The _Lanzknecht's_ lance was eighteen feet long: he wore a helmet and breastplate, and was taught to form suddenly and to preserve an impenetrable square. Before him all light and heavy cavalry went down, and that great arm of modern war did not recover from its disgrace and neglect till the time of Frederic. But his character was very indifferent: he went foraging when there was no campaign, and in time of peace prepared for war by systematic billeting and plundering. It was a matter of economy to get up a war in order to provide employment for the _Lanzknecht_. Hans Sachs wrote a very amusing piece in 1558, entitled, "The Devil won't let Landsknechts come to Hell." Lucifer, being in council one evening, speaks of the _Lanzknecht_ as a new kind of man; he describes his refreshing traits of originality, and expresses a desire to have one. It is agreed that Beelzebub shall repair as a crimp to a tavern, and lie in wait for this new game. The agent gets behind a stove, which in Germany would shield from observation even Milton's Satan, and listens while the _Lanzknechts_ drink. They begin to tell stories which make his hair stand on end, but they also God-bless each other so often, at sneezing and hiccupping, that he cannot get a chance at them. One of them, who had stolen a cock and hung it behind the stove, asks the landlord to go and fetch the poor devil. Beelzebub, soundly frightened, beats a hasty retreat, expressing his wonder that the _Lanzknecht_ should know he was there. He apologizes to Lucifer for being unable to enrich his cabinet, and assures him that it would be impossible to live with them; the devils would be eaten out of house and home, and their bishopric taken from them. Lucifer concludes on the whole that it is discreet to limit himself to monks, nuns, lawyers, and the ordinary sinner. The songs of the _Lanzknecht_ are cheerful, and make little of the chances of the fight. Fasting and feasting are both welcome; he is as gay as a Zouave.[11] To be maimed is a slight matter: if he loses an arm, he bilks the Swiss of a glove; if his leg goes, he can creep, or a wooden leg will serve his purpose:-- It harms me not a mite, A wooden stump will make all right; And when it is no longer good, Some spital knave shall get the wood. But if a ball my bosom strikes, On some wide field I lie, They'll take me off upon their pikes,-- A grave is always nigh; Pumerlein Pum,--the drums shall say Better than any priest,--Good day! [Footnote 11: Who besings himself thus, in a song from the Solferino campaign:-- "Quand l'zouzou, coiffé de son fez, A par hasard queuqu' goutt' sous l'nez, L'tremblement s'met dans la cambuse; Mais s'il faut se flanquer des coups, Il sait rendre atouts pour atouts, Et gare dessous, C'est l'zouzou qui s'amuse! Des coups, des coups, des coups, C'est l'zouzou qui s'amuse."]