factories fabricated 13,702 pieces of cloth, and traders carried their strong work far into Bohemia and the Empire, but especially into Poland. The city seal, a lion in the town gate, was of pure gold. In 1629, the town had already suffered much from the war. The citizens, demoralized and tortured, had lost the greater portion of their old spirit. Lichtenstein's dragoon regiment--Imperialists--were quartered in the neighbouring city, and supported the proselytizing Jesuits by sword and pistol. The burgesses of the town of Löwenberg, dreading their arrival, were obliged to dismiss their old pastors; they separated from them with tears, the populace followed them weeping to their dwellings, bearing with them their last parting gifts as an expiation. The Jesuits succeeded them; the night before they came, a horned owl took up its abode in the church tower, to the terror of the citizens, and alarmed the town all night long by its hootings. The Jesuits preached after their fashion daily, promising freedom from all contributions, and from the infliction of billeting, and special favour and privileges from the Emperor; but to the refractory temporal destruction. They went so far, that the intimidated burgesses were driven to the determination of accepting confirmation; most of the men of the community took the Lord's Supper according to the Roman Catholic custom, unblessed by the cup. The more steadfast of the citizens, however, were compelled to go away in misery. Hardly had the Jesuits left the town, when the people fell back again, the citizens rushed to the neighbouring villages, where there were still evangelical pastors, and were there married and baptized; their churches standing empty under a Roman Catholic priest. There were new threatenings, and new deeds of violence. The upright burgomaster Schubert was carried off to severe imprisonment, but the Council now declared boldly that they would die for the Augsburg Confession; the burgesses pressed round the governor of the province in wild tumult. The executioners of the Emperor, "_the beatifiers_" rode through the gates; great part of the citizens flew with their wives and children out of the town; all the villages were full of exiles, who were brought back with violence by the soldiers and apostate citizens, and put into prison till they could produce certificates of confession; those who fled further, were driven into Saxony. A new Council was now established--as was the custom in those times--of unworthy and disreputable men. The houses abandoned by the citizens were plundered; many waggons heavily laden with furniture were bought of Roman Catholic neighbours, by the soldiers, and carried off. The new Council lived in a shameless manner. The King's judge--an apostate Löwenberger advocate--and the Senators, ill treated the secret Protestants, and endeavoured to enrich themselves from the town property. Two hundred and fifty citizens lived in exile