Part 11 (1/2)
Clerics or laymen, every one among those notable personages did as he pleased. I myself have seen young Margrave Albrecht, as well as other young princes, drinking and playing ”truc” with certain bishops of their own age, but of inferior birth.[53] At such moments they made very light of t.i.tles. The margrave cried abruptly; ”Your turn, priest.
I'll wager your stroke isn't worth a jot.” The bishop was often still more coa.r.s.e, inviting his opponent to accompany him outside to perform a natural want. The young princes squatted down by the side of the n.o.blest dames on the floor itself, for there were neither forms nor chairs; merely a magnificent carpet in the middle of the room, exceedingly comfortable to stretch one's self at full length upon. One may easily imagine the kissing and cuddling that was going on.[54]
Both princes and princesses spent their incomes in banquets of unparalleled splendour. They arrived with their money caskets full to overflowing, but in a little while they were compelled to take many a humiliating step in order to obtain loans; the rates were ruinous, but anything, rather than leave Augsburg defeated and humbled in their love of display. Several sovereigns, among others the Duke of Bavaria, had received from their subjects thousands of dollars as ”play money.” They lost every penny of it.
Our amba.s.sadors lived very retired. They neither invited nor were invited; nevertheless, when a visitor came, they were bound to offer a collation, and to amuse their guests. One day they entertained Jacob Sturm of Strasburg.[55] During dinner the conversation turned on Cammin. Sturm gave us the history of that bishopric, of its foundation, of its expansion. Then he told us of the ancient prerogatives of the Dukes of Pomerania; of the negotiations set on foot seven years before at the diet of Ratisbon. In short, it was as lucid, as complete, and as accurate a summary of the subject as if he had just finished studying it. Our counsellors greatly admired his wonderful memory. Verily, he was a superior, experienced, eloquent, and prudent man, who had had his share in many memorable days from an Imperial as well as from a provincial view; for, in spite of his heresy, the emperor had at various times entrusted him with important missions. Without him, Sleidan could have never written his History. He avows it frankly, and renders homage to Sturm in many pa.s.sages of his _Commentaries_. n.o.body throughout the empire realized to the same degree as he the motto: ”_Usus me genuit, mater me peperit memoria_.” A person of note having asked him if the towns of the League of Schmalkalden were all at peace with the emperor, he answered: ”_Constantia tantum desideratur_.”[56]
It would be impossible better to express both the isolation of Constance and the mistake to which the Protestants owed their reverses.
Should my children have a desire to know what Sturm was like facially, they will only have to look at my portrait, which bears such a remarkable resemblance to him as to have baffled Apelles to improve upon it.[57] Our amba.s.sadors also received the visits of Musculus and Lepusculus, but each came by himself. The moment for serious debate had struck, for the Interim was being gradually drawn up. The time for jesting had gone by; the only thing to do was to get at the root of matters.[58]
I sometimes brought my countryman, friend, and co-temporary Valerius Krakow home with me. He was secretary to Carlowitz, and, excluded as they were from all negotiations, our counsellors were glad to learn from his lips what was being plotted. During the campaign he had not stirred from the side of Carlowitz, who, in reward for his services, had got him into the chancellerie of Prince Maurice. Another countryman of mine who came to see us was the traban Simon Plate, one of my old acquaintances, for we had pursued our studies together more or less usefully at Greifswald, under George Normann. The counsellors did not care for him, for he was of no earthly use to them. The trabans had some respectable, honest, well set-up and plucky fellows in their ranks, and enjoyed a certain amount of consideration. The emperor was particular about their dress; they wore black velvet doublets, cloaks with large bands of velvet, and the Spanish head-dress of the same material.
Plate was never tired of praising his fellow-soldier sleeping next to him, and the amba.s.sadors gave him leave to bring his friend. He wore a most beautiful golden chain. Plate had not exaggerated. Finally he even took umbrage at the favour shown to the new comer, so that one day he exclaimed: ”No doubt he is very upright and honest. He has shown his courage, consequently he pleases the emperor. It is a pity, though, that he is not a gentleman by birth.” The remark, I am bound to say, displeased our amba.s.sadors greatly, and above all Chancellor Citzewitz; but let my children look to it. I have heard many Pomeranian n.o.bles hold the same language. According to them, intelligence, sound judgment and ability were the exclusive appanage of birth.
Plate showed himself in a better light on another occasion. Our counsellors had received several visits, and some flagons had been joyously emptied. When our guests were gone, Moritz Damis, captain of Ukermunde, a rollicking, lively creature, suddenly took a fancy to go to the court ball which was taking place that evening, not in the apartments of the emperor, but in those of his sister and niece, who likewise occupied the Fugger mansion in the wine market. His colleagues, who had not forgotten the emperor's threat to the landgrave, ”I'll teach you to laugh,” were afraid of a scandal, and pointed out that our princes were in disgrace; but Damitz got angry.
”Our princes will give me money, but they cannot give me health,” he exclaimed. ”What am I doing here? Why should I deny myself the sight of such rejoicings? How am I to keep alive? I may as well make up my mind never to cast eyes on Pomerania again.” Saying which, he rushed down the stairs; a counsellor tried to hold him back by his golden chain, the links of which, however, broke, and our captain ran to the ball.
Simon Plate had remained perfectly cool, and they asked him to follow the madcap. There was no difficulty for Plate to get inside the ball-room, and the first person of note of whom he caught sight was the puissant and renowned warrior-chief, Johannes Walther von Hirnheim,[59]
moodily walking to and fro at the lower end of the room. Damitz had noticed standing close by the dancers a handsome woman gorgeously dressed and glittering with jewels, and in less time than it takes to tell he had addressed her: ”Charming creature,” he said, ”are you not going to dance?” ”Oh no, sir,” was the answer; ”dancing is only fit for young people, and I am an old woman.” ”What, are you married?” asked the captain. ”I could have sworn that you were only a girl, and if I were told to choose with the most beautiful woman here, my choice would fall upon you.” ”Ah, sir, you are merely jesting.” ”And what is your husband's name?” the captain went on unabashed. ”Johannes Walther von Hirnheim.” ”Johannes Walther? Oh, I know him well.” The husband, somewhat curious with regard to the captain's conversation, had drawn near, though still continuing to walk up and down in silence. Damitz, though, taking no notice of either him or Simon Plate, continued his interrogatory. ”Have you any children?” ”No; G.o.d has ordained it otherwise.” ”Ah, if I had such a wife, I know what I am. G.o.d would soon grant us children.” This incursion of the captain into the physical domain induced Simon Plate to interfere, to turn the conversation, and to take Damitz back to his domicile.
In December our amba.s.sadors decided to send one of their body to Pomerania, and Heindrich Normann was selected for the journey. It was bitterly cold, and Normann endeavoured to provide against it. He put on a linen nightcap, over that a fur one, and a second of cloth, with a big m.u.f.fler fastened behind and in front (just as the peasantry still wear it), and finally a thick hat, embroidered in silk. On his hands white thread gloves, chamois leather ones lined with fur; over these, and over the latter again thicker gloves of wolf's skin. His body was encased in a linen s.h.i.+rt, a knitted tightly-fitting garment in the Italian fas.h.i.+on; over that a vest of red English cloth, a doublet wadded with cotton, another lined jacket, a long coat of wool trimmed with wolf's skin, covering the whole; finally, on his feet, linen socks, Louvain gaiters reaching above the knee, cloth hose, stockings lined with sheep's skin, and high boots. When everybody had done giving special commissions, the servants hoisted him into the saddle, for he could have never got into it without their help. He went as far as Donauwerth; when he got there, his equipment decidedly seemed to him too uncomfortable. As, however, he had no desire to be frozen to death, he turned his horse's head and made for the good city of Augsburg.
Inasmuch as the narrative of Sleidan is very incomplete, I am going to write the story of Sebastian Vogelsberg. Having been an eye-witness, I made it my business to note down his last speeches. Vogelsberg was tall and of imposing appearance, his width being in proportion to his height; in short, a handsome, well-proportioned man with a head as round as a ball, a beard reaching to his waist, and an open face. No painter could have found a better model for a manly man. He had a certain amount of education. According to some people, he had been a schoolmaster in Italy. Count Wilhelm von Furstenberg, who entered the ”paid” service of the belligerent monarchs as a colonel, took him as a semi-secretary, semi-accountant. Vogelsberg, having been promoted to an ensigns.h.i.+p, rendered distinguished service in the field; Ambitious, glib of tongue, not to say eloquent and rarely at a loss what to do, he quickly attained the grade of captain, and high and mighty potentates soon preferred him to Furstenberg. The latter felt most annoyed at this, belonging as he did to a cla.s.s of men to whom merit is inseparable from birth. He constantly inveighed against Vogelsberg, who, in his turn, did not spare his rival. Pamphlets were printed on both sides. The count appears to have begun; he appealed to his peers, their honour seemed to him at stake. The Protestant States sided with Vogelsberg, their co-religionist, while the popish camp swore mortal hatred to him.
Weary of fruitless polemics, and knowing full well that it would have been folly to take the law into his own hands, Vogelsberg decided upon bringing an action before the Imperial Chamber for damages for defamation of character. I was at the time clerk to his procurator, Dr.
Engelhardt; consequently, I knew every particular of the affair. After protracted debates, the court finding for Vogelsberg, condemned Count Wilhelm to a fine of four hundred florins, a sentence which caused Wilhelm's brother, Frederick von Furstenberg, and everybody who bore the t.i.tle of count to consider themselves the injured parties.
Three _causae proaegoumenae_, to use the language of the dialecticians, may be plainly discerned in this drama; namely, religion, the soldierly qualities of Vogelsberg, and the hostility of the n.o.bles and papists.
We may add two _causae procatarcticae_: the first, mentioned by Sleidan, to the effect that a twelvemonth previously Vogelsberg had taken a regiment of landsknechten to the King of France; the second, which I saw with my own eyes at Wissenburg on the Rhine, that Vogelsberg had built himself in that Imperial town a beautiful mansion of hewn stone with the arms of France, three big _fleurs de lis_ artistically sculptured over the door. The papists, feeling confident that in the probable event of a new war of religion, the valiant captain would give them a great deal of trouble, and thirsting as they did for his blood, like a deer in summer pants for cooling streams, they took time by the forelock. Their skill in exploiting with his Imperial Majesty the _causae irritatrices_ stood them in good stead.
They were instrumental in getting two doctors of their following appointed as judges. The one was German, and the other Welch, but both promptly p.r.o.nounced a sentence of death which was immediately carried out.
On February 7, 1548, shortly after eight in the morning, an ensign-corps of soldiers from the outskirts of ”Our Lady,” and two other ensign-corps from the outskirts of ”St. Jacob,” took up their position in the square of the Town Hall. Sleidan says the scaffold was erected for the purpose of executing Vogelsberg. This is an error on Sleidan's part. The scaffold had been there for six months, and had served many times. An officer from the Welch, whom they call _magister de campo_ was detached from the troops with about thirty men to fetch the condemned man from the Peilach tower. The latter was brought back to the sound of drums and fifes.
Vogelsberg wore a black velvet dress and a Welch hat embroidered with silk. At his entrance into the circle surrounding the scaffold he caught sight of Count Reinhard von Solms, whose nose was half-eaten away by disease, and Ritter Conrad von Boineburg. Without taking any notice of the count, a relentless papist, who detested him on account of Furstenberg, he asked of the ritter: ”Herr Conrad, is there any hope?” ”Dear Bastian,” replied Boineburg, ”May G.o.d help you.”
”Certainly, He will help me,” was Vogelsberg's rejoinder. And with his firmest step, his head erect, and his usual a.s.surance, he climbed the steps to the scaffold.
He looked for a long while at the crowd. All the windows were occupied by members of the n.o.bility. At those of the Town Hall there were serried rows of electors, princes of the Church and of the empire, barons, counts, and knights. In a manly voice and as steady a tone as if he were at the head of his troops, Vogelsberg began to speak: ”Your serenissime highnesses, highnesses, excellencies, n.o.ble, puissant, valiant seigneurs and friends. As I am this day ...” At that moment the _magister de campo_ (quarter-master-general) told the executioner to proceed with his duty, but the latter, addressing the condemned man, said: ”Gracious sir, I shall not hurry you. Speak as long as you please.” Thereupon Vogelsberg went on: ”I am to lose my life by order of the emperor, our very merciful and gracious master, and I now will tell you the cause of my death-warrant. It is for having raised ten ensign-companies last summer for the coronation of the praiseworthy King of France. No felonious act can be imputed to me during the ten years I served the emperor. As I am innocent, I beseech of you to keep me in kind memory, and to pity my undeserved misfortunes. Watch over my kindred, so that they may not come to grief on account of all this, and may benefit by the fruit of my services, for the whole of my life was that of an honest man. I am being sacrificed to the implacable resentment of that infamous Lazarus Schwendi.” The latter was at the window facing the scaffold, and suddenly disappeared, but Vogelsberg did not interrupt his speech. ”He came to me to Wissemburg to tell me that he was in disgrace in consequence of the murder of a Spanish gentleman in the suite of his Imperial Majesty, and that the Spaniards were also looking for me. He proposed to me to fly to France together, and borrowed two hundred crowns of me. I even gave him a horse as a present for his advice. Well, the traitor took me straight to the Spaniards. While I was in prison I asked him, for my personal need, for some of the crowns I had lent him, but he turned a deaf ear to all my requests. I beg of you to be on your guard against that skunk of a thief who bears the name of Lazarus Schwendi. No one ought to have any dealings with him. He has even dared to denounce to his Imperial Majesty his Serenissimo Highness the Elector Palatine as having entered into a league with the King of France. It is an infamous slander. If I had another life to stake, I should stake it on that. I have been refused the last a.s.sistance of a minister, of a confessor--a refusal which has no precedent. I nevertheless die innocent and redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ.” After this he walked round the circle, though above it, asking everybody to forgive him as he forgave everybody. Then he seated himself. The executioner divided his long beard into two and knotted the two ends together on the skull. Having craved his pardon, and invited him to say a Pater and the Credo, he performed his office.
The head rolled like a ball from the scaffold to the ground; the executioner caught it by the beard and placed it between the legs of the body, spreading a cloak over the whole, except the feet which showed from under it.
After that the officer and his thirty arquebusiers went to fetch Jacob Mantel and Wolf Thomas, of Heilbron, who had been brought to Augsburg at the same time as Vogelsberg. Thomas was left at the foot of the scaffold. Mantel walked round the platform and said a few words, which many people could not hear. As his stiff leg made it difficult for him to kneel down, the executioner slipped a footstool under the paralyzed limb. He failed to sever the head at the first stroke, and had to finish the operation below; then he once more covered up the body.
There only remained Wolf Thomas. To judge by his dress and bearing he was not an ordinary man. He stared fixedly at the feet of Vogelsberg, showing from under the cloak; then he took his eyes off, and told those around that he had been a loyal and faithful soldier for twenty-seven years, and that he died absolutely innocent, his sole crime consisted in having served the King of France during three months, as many an honest n.o.ble and squire had done before him without incurring the least punishment. He asked those around to forgive him as he forgave them, and to pray for him as he would intercede in their favour, he being firmly a.s.sured of a place near the Almighty. He asked those who promised to say a Pater and the _Credo_ for him to hold up their hands.
After that he was beheaded.
At the termination of the triple execution the executioner cried in a loud voice from the scaffold: ”In the name of his Imperial Majesty it is expressly forbidden to any one to serve the King of France on the penalty of sharing the fate of these three men.”
The death of Vogelsberg caused universal regret. The unanimous opinion was that a soldier of such mettle was worth his weight in gold to a warlike monarch. Sleidan alleges erroneously that the two judges exculpated Lazarus von Schwendi. It was the emperor who caused to be printed and distributed everywhere a small proclamation of half a sheet, declaring Schwendi free from all blame, inasmuch as he strictly carried out the Imperial orders, and that the speech of Vogelsberg was obviously dictated by the desire to escape the most fully deserved punishment.
The King of France, it was said, was so displeased at the cry of the executioner from the scaffold that by his orders the Marquis de Saluces, on his return from Germany, was arrested and beheaded. This was the n.o.bleman who at Wittenberg had disadvised the execution of the Elector of Saxony.
In April, Augsburg witnessed the arrival of Muleg-Ha.s.san, King of Tunis. Thirteen years previously he had been driven forth by Barbarossa; subsequently he was re-established on his throne by the emperor, but his eldest son had ousted him and put his eyes out. A fugitive and wretched, he came to place himself under the protection of the emperor, and was soon joined in his exile by one of his sons. I often met these two on horseback, in company of Lasky, the Polish amba.s.sador, who spoke their language.