No ecclesiastics, except the spiritual lord; no Jews, women, or servants, were admitted as members; nor were these amenable to the court, all accused being judged by their peers. Accusations brought before this court were only such as would not have been received by the more legal tribunals.

The accused was summoned to appear three times; and if he did not then come forward, judgment was passed on him by default, the oath of the accuser being considered sufficient proof of his guilt, and the condemned criminal was secretly and mysteriously deprived of life. His body was always found with a dagger, on which were the letters S. S. G. G.,[4] plunged into it.

As an instance of the working and rude justice of this tribunal, we read the following:—

“A certain Baron Wolfgang von Cronenburg ravished a nun, and bade defiance to the laws, in his castle; but even here the arm of this secret society reached him, and he was found dead. The nun being pregnant by him was released from her vows, and the possessions of her ravisher bestowed on her and her son.”

An extraordinary pilgrimage was founded about the end of the thirteenth century by an Archbishop of Trèves; the pilgrims were to go to the grave of Saint Willibrod at Epternach, and there join in a general dance in her honour. During this dance the pilgrims of all ranks were linked together; first they advanced, then retired, afterwards ziz-zagging off to the right and left. This custom was kept up for many years, and is still in existence in a modified form.[5]

In 1473, Trèves was selected by Charles the Bold and the Emperor Frederick III. as the place where they should meet and settle the marriage of Mary of Burgundy with Maximilian, the son of Frederick; Charles was on his side to be invested with the rank of King, and receive the title of King of Burgundy.

Frederick arrived, magnificently attended; but Charles, surrounded by his nobles from the rich country of Flanders, outshone the Emperor. The latter invested Charles with the Duchy of Guelders, and a day was fixed for his coronation as King; but before the day arrived Frederick quietly took boat and dropped down the Moselle, being probably instigated by the French emissaries[6] to take this step.

The disgust of Charles defrauded of a crown, and of the towns-people disappointed of a spectacle, must have been excessive.


The abuses of the Romish Church now culminated, and Luther, hurling his bolt against the Roman Bishop, drove the faith of the times into two opposite extremes,—infidelity and superstition. Men’s minds became unhinged; none knew what to believe; fantastic visions of every kind dazzled the eyes of all; the devil seemed to walk on earth, and men who believed in little else sought his protection. Now was the time when people believed that certain charms rendered their bodies invulnerable; and bullets, which never missed, could be cast. Gold was supposed to be obtainable by skill; and above all, the elixir of life, which should enable the possessor to lengthen his term of existence at pleasure, was eagerly sought. One charlatan asserted that gold could be extracted from Jews, and that the ashes of twenty-four of this nation would yield one ounce. In the preceding century a Bishop of Lausanne had believed in the efficacy of a spiritual anathema for driving away grasshoppers and mice, and soon after a Bishop of Coire cursed cockchafers.