Thereupon the town clerk was grievously dismayed ; and he ran in hot haste back to the council, and informed them in a doleful voice that he considered the worshipful gentlemen were in no small danger ; for he had remarked that each woman had a weighty bunch of keys hanging at her side.
Thereupon their courage deserted them, one and all, and they hung their heads, and stood silent with terror; one wished to escape one way, and one another.
Master Melchior, the baker, said to the priest, " Had I but a few hundred musketeers I would shoot down the whole pack of them, except those who would kneel down and confess!"
Meanwhile the town clerk was cogitating, and at last he spoke. " Gentlemen," he said, "I know of a way by which we may escape from the women. If the gentlemen will cause the two outer doors of the townhall to be locked on the outside, we can go softly down the stairs to the lower council-room, and open the postern doors of the tower, and thus take flight. They will then not be aware what has happened to us. But I do not know where the keys of the posterns are to be found."
This good counsel commended itself to all, and a mighty search was made for the keys ; for the posterns had not been used for many years.
Meanwhile the constables were called, and commanded to tell the ladies to wait awhile patiently where they were. The constables were also to go round to the two outer doors, out of which they were to pass quickly, shutting and locking them behind them.
This plan succeeded. The good women, of whom there were 263, were thus locked in. The keys of the posterns having been found, the town clerk ran down and forced them into the rusty locks, and then ran up and called, "Gentlemen, the coast is clear ! but softly, softly, I implore, that the women may hear nothing, or all the fiends will be let loose upon us !"
Thereupon the gentlemen fled, each one at his utmost speed, most of them leaving behind their hats and gloves. One ran home, another to a neighbour's house, each one where he thought he would be most in safety. One and all could truly say they were filled with terror.
The priest ran at full gallop the whole way down the church street, looking more behind him than before him ; for he felt as though the women were at his heels, and the keys swinging around his head. He shut the parsonage door behind him, and sank down exhausted with his unwonted exertions. He was so wearied he could neither eat nor drink, and his two ladies had hard work to cool and revive him.
Now when the imprisoned women, of whom some were sitting on the window-sills, heard the cries and tumult in the town, and saw the worshipful gentlemen here and there flying through the streets, they knew not what had happened.
Then went the magistrate's wife to the door of the council chamber, lifted the latch, and peeped in, and called aloud, in great astonishment, "The rascals are all gone ! See, here lies a hat, and there a glove, and there a pocket-handkerchief, and the doors are left open ! Come, let us sit on the benches, and send for our husbands, and tell them they are summoned under heavy penalties to come and hear their sentence."
And all the women replied with shouts of laughter, so that the sound of their mirth could be heard in the market-place below.
But after awhile the women found that they were locked in, and they collected in little knots, and began to lament together that their husbands and children and the small babies would be wanting their dinners. They were not aware of the little postern doors below, and they knew of no means of escape. They therefore agreed to call for some women who were standing outside the locked doors, having come too late, so that they were now unable to enter, and they sent these women to the magistrate, begging him to let them out. The women were also to enquire for what purpose they had all been summoned.
Meanwhile the magistrate had returned to his house a wiser man than he had left it. And he bethought him that, may be, all the husbands of Lowenberg were not of his mind with regard to their wives.
Also he observed that many children and servants were running to the town-hall, carrying food and drink to the imprisoned women, which they pushed in at the windows by means of poles. Indeed, one kind friend had provided them with a whole firkin of beer. And, moreover, many men collected round the magistrate's house, enquiring what their wives had clone that they should be thus locked up.
Then the magistrate collected his wits, and sent for the gentlemen of the council to come in all haste for an urgent and necessary consultation.
The four gentlemen of the council, and the town clerk, were found after a long search. But the priest was nowhere to be seen. He sent word from his hiding-place that he was too tired to attend the summons. But a second summons was sent to him, with the order to appear without a moment's delay, because it was he who was the author of all this trouble.
Meanwhile the constable ran to the town-hall—by whose orders none can say—and called through the locked door to his wife, saying, " Tell the other ladies the gentlemen are all assembled again at the magistrate's house, and they will speedily send to unlock the doors, that all may return to their homes."
Thereupon the magistrate's wife made answer, " We are in no hurry. We are well sheltered from wind and weather. Only we should like to know why we were summoned, and for what reason we are locked up."
The priest was at last induced to attend the council at the magistrate's house. He found the worshipful gentlemen lamenting to one another their great weariness, and the great shock which had left them spent and exhausted, so great had been their fear, and so great the danger they had escaped.
Whereupon some cups of wine were handed round, " but what was done besides I have not," observed the chronicler, " been able to discover, as all was settled in haste, and not taken down in writing. But this I know, that each one upbraided the other, and manybitter reproaches passed backwards and forwards. And the conclusion they came to at last was, to send an embassy to the ladies to release them on the spot, and to address them in the most friendly manner, requesting them politely to leave the town-hall."
The ambassadors were his wool-worship, Herr Mumer, Master Daniel, and the town clerk.
When they reached the town-hall, they walked in amongst the women, and the town clerk began his speech. " Honourable, most honourable, virtuous, and most gracious ladies, his reverence the priest, and his worship the imperial magistrate, and the worshipful council desire to wish you good-day, and wonder greatly that you have taken so ill their harmless summons, entirely misunderstanding their intentions. And since, ladies, you desire to know for what purpose you were summoned, I am permitted to tell you the real cause. It is, that as sermons are to be preached during Passion-week concerning the Holy Sacrament, the council desired to exhort you to attend these sermons diligently. Also they desired to request you to attend the Easter services, and to show a liberal spirit, as the purse of his reverence the priest is well-nigh empty, owing to the small number of citizens left in the town."
Then said Master Daniel, thinking to improve upon the speech of the town clerk, " The ladies must distinctly understand that this is a friendly conference. For the most worshipful council are not in the habit of hanging anyone before they catch him."
Here Master Daniel was silenced by nudges on either side on the part of Herr Mumer and the town clerk, who perceived how rash and foolish was the speech he had begun to make.
But the women burst forth into loud laughter and noise. "Yes, yes," they said, "we quite understand. They liken us to people who are on their way to the gallows !"
And many an evil name did they call the gentlemen of the council, so that the magistrate's wife had to silence them, saying, " Be quiet, be quiet, all of you ;" and then she turned to Master Daniel, and said, " Hear, dear brother-in-law, you do not understand what you are about. You are far too small, all of you, to force our consciences. Oh, how will God judge you, and my husband also ; for he himself is acting openly against his conscience ! Your father, Master Daniel, and my husband's father, were good and reverend Lutheran pastors. They taught you in a very different way from that in which you are now walking. Now you say you are good Catholics. Those who lead evil lives may well want a new religion, but as to being Catholics, you well know that, when you have been drinking, you can speak irreverently enough of the mother of God. And you well know that if you were to be deprived of all you gain by your change of religion, of the good incomes you get by it, which you speedily consume in feasting and drinking; and if you had, on the contrary, to go back to your plane and your shavings, we should hear no more of your popery.
God will judge you, be assured of that. Never shall you take from us our faith. As to being hanged, that will perchance be rather your fate than ours."
Then said the burgomaster's wife, " If you had nothing more to say to us, you might as well have left it to the priest to preach it to us from the chancel. It was not necessary to lock us up to hear it. I am not to be forced in that manner to go to church. When we had our good old pastors and preachers I went to church with great gladness, and was comforted there by the word of God. Now, when I go there, I am pained and angered, and can only tell my grief to God in heaven. As to that Easter-penny, each one is free to give or not to give—any can give it who wish to do so."
But the other women burst forth with such angry words that the gentlemen were terrified, and asked leave to depart without saying another word.
Now when these gentlemen returned to the magistrate's house, the priest and the other gentlemen had already left. They therefore related their interview with the ladies, and returned home.
The women mean while were wending their way, each one to her house. But the magistrate took the matter most seriously and sadly to heart. It was now plain to him that he had made a fool of himself, and that he would never hear the last of his folly, but be mocked and derided for evermore.
He walked up and down the room, and muttered and murmured to himself. At last he said, "Give me something to eat."
Thereupon the cloth was laid, and his maid and the children brought in the dinner, namely, a dish of crawfish, and a white loaf, and cheese, with butter besides.
But the good gentleman, being violently enraged, took first the loaf, then the butter, and the tin butter-dish with it, and threw them out of the window into the market-place. Also the crawfish he threw about all over the room, and then seized the sausage, which was on the table, and which the children were watching with hungry eyes, for all this time they had been waiting for their dinner. Yes ; so filled was he with wrath, that he smashed in pieces the dishes and plates, and everything he could lay hands on, so that the neighbours ran together in crowds to see what was amiss. Then he ran from the room and shut himself up, still muttering loudly to himself, and the next day he got up early, and left the town, and gave up his post to Herr Melchior, the baker.
This next day the gentlemen kept quiet until towards evening. Then the priest sent for the constable and told him to go in his name, and in the name of the vice-magistrate Melchior, to the burgomaster's wife and another lady, and desire them to come to him to the parsonage next morning after mass.
But the ladies said in reply, they would not go to the priest unless the burgomaster himself commanded them to do so.
The constable therefore went to the burgomaster, who said, "As far as I am concerned I desire them to go, or I shall be blamed if they do not."
Therefore next morning, being Friday, they went at the hour appointed, and with them the magistrate's wife, who had not been invited there.
Then began the priest to speak to them in the most friendly manner, and requested them most politely to comply with his wishes, and to declare themselves of the holy religion which their husbands had adopted, the religion which could alone give salvation to the soul. They would find peace and comfort in doing so, and all other matters would go well with them.
Thereupon the women straightway made answer, and said, " No, we have been taught otherwise by our parents, and our former pastors, and we found peace and comfort in the way they taught us. We cannot conform to your religion."
Then said the priest, " At least, dear ladies, come to church, and if you have any doubts or difficulties, come to me as often as you wish, and I will assuredly teach you with all diligence."
The ladies replied, " No, the good gentleman need give himself no trouble on our behalf ; we will not conform,"
" Ah !" said the priest, " but surely the ladies will set a good example, and at least go to church for mass ; and not hinder and stumble others who have already declared, ' If the ladies go, we will go also!'"
The ladies answered, " But we will not go ; neither will we hinder others if they desire to go. They must follow their own consciences, for they are answerable to God alone."
Now when the priest saw that his entreaties were in vain, he implored them yet once more, saying, " Well, well, at least you can say to the other ladies and women that you asked for a fortnight's space to consider, and that your request was granted."
Then answered the women with wrathful mien, " No, dear sir, we did not learn from our parents to tell lies, and we will not learn it from you ; therefore we desire that you should excuse our doing so." And forthwith they went away.
While the three ladies were with the priest a great number of women ran together with wondrous speed, many more than had assembled on the first day.
Of this Herr Franze became aware, and, running and panting, he came in hot haste to the burgomaster, and said, " Sir, I entreat you, in the name of God, be warned by me, and forbid the priest to meddle with the women, for there are a multitude of them come together ; all the bread market and all the houses in the church street are full of them ! May God preserve us, that we and the priest be not massacred by them !"
The good burgomaster was so ill in bed that he could move neither hand nor foot. He sent in haste to the priest, and told him in plain German that he had endangered the whole city by his venturesome proceedings, and that never in any town had such things been attempted before ; and if he were to fall a victim to the fury of the women, he, the burgomaster, would not be answerable for it.
Then answered the priest, "Alas ! sir burgomaster, be not so wroth with me. I see that I have been deluded by that rash man, Herr Melchior; and things have turned out quite otherwise than he led me to expect. I beseech you, sir, advise the women all to return home ; for that which has happened shall never happen again, I solemnly assure you."
When the women heard this, and found that no harm had befallen the three ladies, further than what has been related above, they were well content ; and they went home and laid by their bunches of keys, though each one in a corner where they might have them at hand, either by day or by night, in case they might have need of them.
So far the old chronicle.
Soon after the priest was banished from Lowenburg in disgrace ; for, despite his promises to the burgomaster, he persisted in his meddlesome ways, and in other objectionable practices, having amongst other things opened a tavern for selling beer.
Master Melchior, becoming desperate, enlisted as a soldier, and later on was hanged at Prague.
And the brave women ? We hear no more of them. We may hope that they fled with their husbands and children to some more peaceful home.
For from that time the miseries of Lowenberg increased each year. In 1639 only forty citizens remained, who were deeply in debt. In 1641 they unroofed their houses with their own hands, and went to live in thatched huts, in order to have no more taxes to pay. By the time peace was proclaimed, in 1648, the whole town was in ruins. Some few citizens returned after the peace, and made some of the houses habitable ; but eighty-seven per cent. of the inhabitants had perished. In the year ,184.5 the population had increased to 4500 souls ; that is to say, 2000 less than in the years preceding the disastrous war,