From GERTRUD VON SAVELBURG to the FRAU
DOCTORIN HEIMSKIRK
NUREMBERG, June 20, 1632.
“DEAR COUSIN,―Since we are here in a condition so doubtful that I know neither what the issue may be nor when I may be able again to send you a letter by a sure and safe hand, it seems well that I should briefly write down day by day such things as you may wish to hear, and thus have something in readiness to send when the opportunity offers. You can scarcely picture the commotion and the anxiety in the midst of which we find ourselves. The fortune of war has willed it that the two great generals of the age should fight out their quarrel beneath our walls, and that our fair city should be the prize of the conqueror. The Friedlander designs to attack, the Swede has pledged his honor to defend us. Our protectors are already busy, entrenching themselves in a vast camp outside our walls, and neither citizens nor peasants are slack in helping them. You would smile to see our Junker August von Labeling in a blouse and leather belt, with a spade on his shoulder, going forth at the head of a band of volunteers enlisted by himself, to help in digging the great trench, six miles in length, that is to enclose the camp. The volunteers and the army have divided the work between them, and vie eagerly with each other as to who shall accomplish most. Every night at supper August proclaims, with proportionate pride, the number of feet ‘we have made today.’ Great is the enthusiasm whenever the king comes to inspect the work; and should he condescend to express satisfaction, a long day's toil beneath a burning sun, weary limbs, and an aching back seem to have become positive pleasures to August. The youth is hovering, with a kind of fascination like that of the moth for the candle, about the steps of the hero king. I fear he will end by entreating his father's permission to enter the Swedish service. And, if only he entreats earnestly enough, there is nothing that can be denied him. There is another matter, also concerning him, of which I may write to thee by and by, and in which I feel myself, if not blameworthy, at least the innocent cause of what may lead to painful embarrassment.
“Meanwhile, though everything is peaceful and orderly, the town is a busy scene. Joseph in the seven years of plenty was not more anxious to lay up food in his storehouses than have been our good burgomaster and the Council of Eight. We must needs feed our defenders—a formidable task enough; and we must provide for our own wants also in what may very soon be a state of siege. Strangers from all parts of the surrounding country have been crowding into the town; and I own I have many misgivings about the consequences. With all the care of our city fathers, and their wise provisions for health and comfort, I fear both the multitude without and the multitude within our walls may ere long have foes to fight other and more formidable than the armies of Wallenstein.
“Most of our Bohemian exiles still manage to get their daily bread; but it is the bitter bread of poverty, won by hard toil and in the humblest callings, for the guilds of the various crafts are very close and jealous of strangers. I could tell you some sad stories of want and privation, but to what end? You do not know any of these people, nor could you do anything to help them.
“Baron von Labeling keeps open house for the Swedish and German officers, and other strangers of good repute. Every day his table is crowded with guests, and not a few are lodged beneath his roof. Of these last the most interesting to me, for many reasons, is the young brother of my friend Giovana Graham.
“I have never yet been deceived in anyone of whom I conceived a favorable first impression. This young Scotch girl, scarcely past the years of childhood, has certainly not disappointed me. I have ever found her tender, wise, and thoughtful as the best of women, and simple, humble, and loving as the most child-like of children. Nor have I, during the months I have watched her closely, detected in her the shadow of guile or untruth. She has but one drawback―the rare beauty you used to admire so much. I could well wish those rich masses of hair less golden, those dark eyes less deep and soft; but I do not think August von Labeling would wish any change in her at all. It is here that I foresee complications, possibly more fraught with danger than his passion for the Swede. It is true she is of gentle blood, and her father was a Freiherr, or baron, in his own land. But this will scarcely satisfy the house of Labeling for its heir and representative. However, the one fascination may possibly counteract the other, and war and glory drive away this boyish fancy of August's. For he is but a boy―a brave, generous, gallant-hearted boy as ever went forth to win his spurs on the battlefield.
“I think I told you in my last letter, amongst things more important, how Giovana's brother came to us at first—dragged by August from under the horse's feet, on the day of the King of Sweden's visit to the town. He is a fine lad of thirteen, very bright and forward. He talks by the hour in his broken German to August and the girls, with whom he is a great favorite, of the King of Sweden's army, and of his adventures since he joined it; or, to use his own words, ‘since I quitted the service of the Marquis of Hamilton on account of his unworthy treatment of my uncle.’ This way of speaking in a boy of his age shows, I think, that with many good qualities there is at present a little too much self-confidence and an independence scarcely befitting his years. I suspect his uncle's weakness of character may be thanked for this; both children speak of him with affection, but in a way that betrays unconsciously how impossible it would be for anyone, even a child, to lean on him for guidance or support.
“Hugh is still confined to a couch by the effects of his accident; and the Lübelings, who are much taken with him, will not hear of his removal to the Swedish field hospital, though he himself, very sensibly, proposed and urged it. At the first a slight circumstance created, quite unjustly, as we know now, what might have grown into a prejudice against him. On the floor of the room where he was laid w1en carried in from the street there was found a crucifix, with a few beads attached to it, evidently broken off from a rosary. In spite of the extreme improbability of a child of his years, and in the Swedish camp too, having had his religion tampered with, some of us took alarm; and the good but rather weak Frau von Gunsdorf especially was disposed to regard the poor boy as a precocious little Jesuit in disguise. But he was so evidently innocent and ingenuous, that suspicion was soon disarmed. Eventually we all came to the conclusion that the bauble belonged to a respectable person of gentlemanly appearance who had helped August to carry him into the house. This man, apparently one of the many strangers here, has called several times to inquire for him, and seen him once, I believe, during his sister's absence. He calls himself Herr Krausman―I wonder if he be related to the Krausmans of Frankfurt.
“These are trivial things to chronicle, and I know not why I write them; save that my thoughts turn instinctively from the great issues at stake, from the fate of kings and armies, of creeds and nations, to these narrow personal details. Eyes strained and sore with gazing on the tournament of heroes may find relief in watching children at their play There is only pain in caring for the great world―pain unredeemed by profit, uncheered by hope. I cannot, like simple Jeanie, trust that all will in the end be well. Does it look like it?
“June 24.―To the question I wrote down yesterday our news of today gives a sad but significant answer. Of late our friends have been jubilant over the successes of our ally, the Elector of Saxony, in Bohemia. Prague, once more, actually in Protestant hands Young, ardent hearts beat high with hope; and even the world-worn and weary felt their pulses stirred. Still, some of us asked with misgivings all too well-founded, as the event has proved, ‘Can any good thing come out of Saxony?’ If it can, we have yet to see it. Already Wallenstein has torn his conquests from the feeble hand of the Saxon, and offered him an ignominious peace, which he is sure to accept, if not too much afraid of the King of Sweden.
“June 25.―We are going to visit the Swedish camp. The baron will escort us; and I have been urged so warmly to be of the party that I do not care to refuse our kind friends. Jeanie, however, remains with her brother, though contrary to his own entreaty. I own I am scarcely sorry, because August—
“June 26.―I was interrupted yesterday by a summons to the bedside of old Franz Rocka, who is dying. He has never been disabused of his happy illusion that Bohemia is ours once more, and that her exiles are looking forward to a glad return to their fatherland. At first I regretted this, because I feared it would make it harder for him to leave a world which still held, as he thought, that dear thing called ‘home.’ But when I saw him, a great calm had come over him. He was content, ‘pacified,’ his daughter called it, like a child in the arms of its mother. ‘Heaven is better than the White Mountain,’ he said. ‘I will lift up mine eyes to the hills― whence cometh my help! But, my children, when you go home, lay a wreath for me on the grave of Magdalen.’ Magdalen was his wife, dead these thirty years. How wonderful this calm that death brings! Or is it death that brings it?―death, or the dawning of a fuller life?
“When I returned, Frau von Gunsdort and the girls were just stepping into the coach to go to Furth, the Swedish headquarters. We saw the whole camp, and we carried away, or at least I did, a sense of the full meaning of that grand word ‘Order,’ which I never had before. It is the secret of strength. It made the old Roman―who said to this man, ‘go,’ and he goeth; to another, ‘come,’ and he cometh; and to his servant, ‘do this,’ and he doeth it―the conqueror and the master of the world. So may this Swede become, if he lives. Conquest and mastery might fall into worse hands. Imagine the heart of Kaiser Ferdinand with the brain of Gustavus Adolphus! That combination would make a demon.
“We dined in the tent of General Bauditzen, of the Blue Brigade, who is a friend of the baron. A Scotchman, Colonel Monro, was of the party, and asked leave to present to us an officer of his regiment whose gallantry he warmly praised, and who, he said, was under special obligations to Baron von Libeling. I found it hard to recognize in the tall, black-bearded, soldierly lieutenant of the Blues that he led up to us Jeanie's ‘Uncle Charles’! Somehow I always pictured to myself a soft-featured, loosely built person, with scarcely more strength and activity of limb than firmness of purpose. Either Jeanie has unintentionally misrepresented him, or, which is possible, a year's soldiering under the firm discipline of the Swede has worked wonders. He expressed, in very suitable terms, his gratitude for the kindness shown to his young relatives, and was invited to visit them at Lübeling Haus. Then came August, with flushed face and shining eyes, to entreat his father to accompany him to the quarters of Colonel Crailsham, the Master of the Royal Household. ‘He has been very kind to me,’ I heard him say. ‘He will do something for me yet with the king.’ All things point in the same direction. Our boy will never rest until he bears a sword in the service of the hero king.
“June 29.―There is much fear of scarcity in the city. Moreover, Wallenstein is certainly coming.
“June 30.―Wallenstein is here! His standards may be seen from the top of the Frauen Tower. The excitement is intense. We know, however, that the Swede does not intend to give battle, and he is not likely to allow his hand to be forced.
“July 1.―Lieutenant Graham has come to visit us. He seems very grateful for the care taken of his nephew and niece, to both of whom he is evidently much attached. After his visit, Jeanie said to me with great feeling, ‘God has been very good to us. I cannot but see that my dear uncle is not the same man that he used to be. I am glad now that Hugh stayed with him, and I am not afraid for him anymore.’ She added, ‘You have been as a mother to me, so I must needs tell you what God has done for us.’ Dear child, her love is very sweet to me. I often dream and speculate about her future. If indeed the visions of our sanguine friends were realized, and I could take her back with me to Bohemia as my adopted daughter, I might make her in wealth and position quite equal to the Lübeling. But I never let my mind dwell upon this return as amongst things possible—nay, I scarcely hope for it. I do not wish to go back to Savelburg now. Let the dead bury their dead.
“July 5.―There is fighting going on even now. Those on the walls can hear the firing distinctly. God defend the right!
“July 7.― Only chance encounters. No general engagement, and no likelihood of such. The wary Swede will not be tempted out of his entrenchments. Wallenstein, we hear, is entrenching himself also. Do the great rivals mean to stand gazing at each other all the summer?
“July 12.―Lieutenant Graham comes here often. I scarce like him so well as I did at first Not that I have any definite fault to find with him: he seems a brave, honest gentleman. I have been told that the new Lord of Savelburg is with Wallenstein, that he is a gallant soldier, chivalrous and honorable, but of late rather suspected of wavering in his allegiance to the cause he has espoused, and to which his services have been so splendidly rewarded.
“July 18.―The weather is very hot, but the town continues healthy. There is no actual scarcity of food, though there is much apprehension of it, especially amongst the poorer classes. We hear they are suffering in the camp for want of forage for the horses, but there is still food enough for the men.
“July 25.―Evil reports of the king's men! They are learning the ways of the Imperialists, and betaking themselves to plunder and outrage. Not the native Swedes, however, but the German auxiliaries—the ‘mixed multitude’ that have joined them since their great successes. Still, these are fighting under the king's standard, and he must be held responsible for them.
“July 30.―Two victories for our friends. Colonel Deubatel has surprised Freystadt; and the king in person has defeated and made prisoner General Spar.
“August 2.― Yesterday the king rebuked, with a severity no less than tremendous, those officers who had either committed or connived at the depredations which have been bringing his army into disgrace. Not content, however, with rebuking as a king and a general, he pleaded with them as a man and a Christian to desist from crimes which would ruin themselves and their country. We are told that even hardened veterans were melted into tears by his eloquence. But will it prove effectual? The soldiers have some excuse in that they are suffering, not actual hunger, indeed, but scarcity. Short rations and nothing to do would try the temper of any army. There is also much sickness in the camp; and we fear that it will spread to the city. We have already a few cases of fever amongst us.
“August 4.―The Swede never leaves his work half done. Lieutenant Graham tells us today of a severe proclamation addressed to the delinquent Germans. ‘If you dare pretend to desert or mutiny,’ concludes the king, ‘I have enough left of my faithful and valiant Swedes to cut you all to pieces, even in Wallenstein's presence; for, having reason and Christianity on my side, I will be obeyed.’ He has hanged a lieutenant for theft, also a private soldier, whose prayer for mercy he answered with these words: ‘Friend, every soldier is my child, yet is it better that thou shouldest die than that the wrath of God should descend, for this thy sin, upon thee and me, and all this multitude assembled round us.’
“August 6.―I have just learned accidentally that Herr Krausman has been often here to see Hugh, but never when Jeanie was at home. It is curious
“August 7.―Your letter has come to hand, and I hear, with sincere pleasure, of your good health and prosperity, and of that of your worthy husband and your children. I am glad that Hanschen has recovered so well from the measles, and only wonder none of the rest have taken the infection. I see that you reproach me with filling my former letters with matters of public concern, to the exclusion of those personal details which you say would interest you more. But, dear friend, I have no such details to give. When I say of myself ‘I am in good health,’ all is said. Still, what relates to the children, Jeanie and Hugh, does, after a fashion, concern me personally, and you will own I have not spared to tell you of them. Now the post is leaving in all haste, so that I have only time—with hearty commendations for the Herr Doctor and kisses for the children—to subscribe myself thy loving cousin,
“GERTRUD VON SAVELBURG.”