The Young Carpenters of Freiberg | Page 9

is muttering and grumbling about there. Oh, whatever
will become of her?'
Jüchziger lived with his wife in the town, and the elder men gave
Conrad leave to run on ahead, that he might have time to tell his mother
about the destruction of her house, and prepare her for the outburst of
passion she might expect when her husband reached home.
The citizens of Freiberg were preparing at all points for the expected
siege. All the corn, hay, and straw stored at their farms in readiness for
the coming winter was brought into the city, and every care was taken
betimes that there should be no danger of famine; for experience
teaches that more strongholds have been conquered by hunger than by
hard fighting. The fear that the Swedes inspired in the city increased

when it became known that Leipzig and Pleissenburg had fallen into
their hands on November 28, and that Silberstadt was their next
destination. It was a fortunate circumstance that armies in those days
could not move so quickly as they can now. Thanks to this fact,
Freiberg had time to make all due preparation for the enemy's reception.
John George II., 'the father of his people,' was not remiss in caring for
the mountain city. He sent Lieutenant-Colonel George Hermann von
Schweinitz, a brave and experienced commander, with three companies
of infantry and one of dragoons, to conduct the defence. These troops
mustered only two hundred and ninety men all told; yet this little band,
aided by the citizens, gloriously held at bay for two long months an
entire Swedish army of eight brigades, with a hundred and nine pieces
of artillery.
Hillner, the journeyman carpenter, was still a free man; for Jüchziger
had determined to find some other way of satisfying his thirst for
vengeance, and had therefore laid aside his schemes till a more
convenient season. In spite of the dark and doubtful future, busy life
reigned in the workshop of the carpenter's widow, as it re-echoed once
again to the din of tools wielded by the two journeymen and the
apprentice. One day--it was the 4th of December in the memorable year
1642--the hollow roll of drums was heard coming down the street, and
the senior journeyman, laying his plane on the bench, crossed the
workshop to look out at the window facing the street. Having done so,
he at once left the workroom and went out to the street door, followed
by his two comrades, to watch the entrance of the regular soldiers, who
were just marching into the town.
There were, as has already been said, only two hundred and ninety men,
yet the mere sight of them awakened joyful and reassuring feelings in
the breasts of all who saw them. The roll of the drums in itself had an
inspiriting effect. As the townspeople gazed at the long, level lines, and
heard the heavy, regular tramp beneath which the very pavement
seemed to shake; as they saw each bronzed face with its look of
stedfastness and assured courage, the open iron helmet on the head, the
breastplate covered by a military coat reaching to the knees and
allowing the body free play from the hips, the halberd grasped in the

strong right hand, and the shield in the left, bearing the Saxon
coat-of-arms,--as these various points were noted and remarked on,
each moment brought fresh courage to hearts that had been almost
ready to despond. In all ages there have been jealousies and strife
between the military and the respectable burgher class, and Freiberg
was no exception to this rule. But to-day the soldiers were welcomed
with loud and joyful shouts, which they, fully conscious of their own
value, acknowledged by friendly nods as they passed along the streets.
Conrad Schmidt, standing beside the miner's little daughter Dollie,
watched the warlike procession with the curious eyes of youth. From
time to time he stole a glance at the senior journeyman, observing his
movements with surprise and some amusement. The young man had
taken off his blue apron, and held it rolled up in his left hand, while his
right grasped the carpenter's square, exactly as the soldiers held their
halberds. His whole bearing was changed; he had become positively
warlike; his eyes flashed, and his feet rose and fell in measured time, as
though he could hardly restrain himself from marching off at the sound
of the drum. Conrad laughed and shook his head merrily, but kept back
a speech he had been on the point of making when he saw the change in
his old friend.
'I was right after all,' he said to himself. 'If he were just to let his beard
grow, he would be exactly like'-- His sentence was left unfinished, for
at this moment he heard