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THE RISE OF THE POOR, WEAK, AND WICKED: POOR CARE, PUNISHMENT, RELIGION, AND PATRIARCHY IN LEIPZIG, 1700-1730.

Between 1700 and 1704 the city council of Leipzig, in central Germany, presided over the construction of a new, large combination poor house, orphanage, insane asylum, and penitentiary named St. George. The institution housed nearly one hundred inmates within a year and over two hundred by the 1720's, as well as over twenty employees. Several factors combined to bring about the construction of the house, and the wider prominence of the poor, weak, and wicked in official rhetoric. The number of poor and dislocated individuals was increasing dramatically. Not only need, but also the city council's ability and desire to address poverty and criminality were growing. Further, Pietism, a movement within Lutheranism, was reinvigorating the council's and the broader population's traditional religious interest in the poor, weak, and wicked.

Many details of the social and economic background of poverty and crime in Leipzig; of the city council's ideology regarding poor care and punishment; and of the construction, administration, and internal routine of St. George were typical of institutions around Europe and Anglo-America in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. [1] This case study contributes to discussions about early modem poor care and punishment in two ways. First, I explore interactions among the various groups involved with the house, especially the city council, propertied citizens, and inmates of the house. In most literature, by contrast, the perspectives of these groups are separated out. In particular, emphasis continues to be placed on the authorities' norms and goals. Relating different perspectives not only illuminates the workings of poor care and punishment, but also allows for a broader exploration of the relative positions and authority of men and women from different social groups in Leipzig. Poor care and punishment len d themselves well to such treatment, since they were prominent issues throughout early modern Europe; in Leipzig, they were particularly so during the early eighteenth century. And St. George was the physical and ideological focal point for public demarcation and discussion of the poor and criminal, although it represented only one part of the punishment administered by the council, and of support administered by the council, guilds, and informal social networks. [2] The sources available on the house, unusually rich, provide a rare opportunity to compare pronouncements by councilors, burghers, (as property-owning citizens were known in German towns) and inmates on one subject. They show, as one historian of German cities recently wrote, that "[l]ines of authority which were clear in theory could easily be blurred in practice." [3] The sources include city council protocols, internal memos, correspondence, financial accounts recording the construction and maintenance of the house, investigations into corrupti on and abuse, and last but not least the letters of four inmates, three female and one male, to the city council requesting to be freed, which give rare voice to the objects of discipline.

Second, I explore how religion shaped the ideology and practice of poor care and punishment. This bears on the first issue, since religion structured many of the interactions among councilors, burghers, and inmates. The politics of Protestant German cities were shaped by a sacralization of gender and occupational hierarchies and by an assumption of broad powers by local authorities, including poor care and punishment. [4] While these dynamics have been well explored for the Reformation era, they have been less carefully traced into the eighteenth century, a time of great social and economic change. However, religion remained important in this period, fading only during the upheavals of the late eighteenth century. The council's legitimation of its construction and maintenance of St. George was deeply traditional, based on the patriarchal language of the Old Testament covenant and Ten Commandments. Further, burghers and inmates shared the same language of covenant and Commandments.

Along with traditional concepts and practices, an important new religious trend in Germany, Pietism, also informed the construction of St. George. [5] Leading Pietists, parallel to Puritans and Quakers in England and North America, developed new social and institutional means of realizing the Reformation agenda of caring for, disciplining, and indoctrinating the poor, orphaned, and criminal. In Frankfurt, Philipp Jacob Spener was instrumental in establishing an alms and workhouse in the 1670's that influenced developments around Germany. Appropriately, a new religious movement was aligned with a new institutional form then spreading around Europe, which stressed enclosure, discipline, and work. In Halle, Brandenburg-Prussia, just thirty miles from Leipzig, August Hermann Francke began to build up an extensive and similarly influential system of orphanages and schools in the 1690's. Francke's emphasis was on educating children, especially in religion. Leipzig city councilors, in one of numerous possible insti tutional variations, combined both workhouse and educational models in St. George. They consulted relevant reports and ordinances from Frankfurt, Weimar, and Berlin. [6] Links between Francke and Leipzig were closer: Francke had studied in Leipzig in the 1680's and led a movement of religious revival among students and burghers from 1688 to 1690. He had been forced him to leave Saxony, but retained followers among city councilors, clerics, and other inhabitants, who often visited Halle.

Among European cities, Leipzig was a major trading and university center. [7] Its population, which grew from about 24,000 in 1700 to 30,000 in 1730, placed it among the largest German cities. Long the trade, publishing, and university center of Electoral Saxony, the most powerful Lutheran territory of the Holy Roman Empire, Leipzig came to dominate trade and publishing in all of Germany around 1700. Its fairs, held three times a year, overtook Frankfurt's as the main international trading venues in Germany. The fairs brought both wealth and poverty to the city. At one end of the socio-economic spectrum, city councilors were enjoying a period of unprecedented power: the merchants who made up half of the council (lawyers made up the other half) were accumulating vast wealth, and could count on contributions from other wealthy inhabitants and visitors to the fairs. The council's new power allowed it to put its goals into practice on a previously unseen scale, goals which were just then becoming more grandiose. The construction of the new St. George was among the most prominent exibitions of its power; the council undertook no other public works project of similar scale in this period.

At the other end of the spectrum, laborers who did the heavy lifting and carrying of the fairs often found no regular work during the rest of the year. [8] They swelled the ranks of marginal artisans who were at risk of falling into poverty. Further, there was constant pressure on the city by poor and displaced people from the region around Leipzig, who came seeking work, alms, food, and lodging. Altogether, up to 50% of the city's population was close to or in an actual state of poverty, a proportion which grew throughout the century. Overtaxation and wars brought on by Saxon Elector and Polish King Frederick August II, "the Strong" (r. 1694-1733) compounded the problems. In all of these respects, Leipzig was typical of other large European towns and, with differences of scale, hundreds of smaller ones as well.

I begin by exploring the ideology and agenda of the city council, since this group did establish the framework within which all operated. I then turn to the construction of St. George, roles of burghers in the project, and the everyday practice of administering Sr. George, which shows the implementation of the council's exercise of power and how that power was qualified by interactions with burghers. Finally, I explore the letters written by inmates, who were a heterogeneous group and well informed about their rights, although they accepted many of the inequalities of status and gender propagated by the council.

The council: theories and agendas

The general foundations of the council's rule were closely connected to the theory and practice of poor care and discipline; I trace first the general foundations, and then their application. In keeping with the general sacralization of politics during the Reformation, the council's overall role and its relationship with the city's inhabitants were defined in religious terms. [9] The theme of covenant was dramatized at the annual installation of a new governing council: the incoming and outgoing governing city councils participated in the ceremony, held at the city hall; heads of Leipzig guilds and neighborhoods were present as guests. [10] The ceremony opened with readings of the first chapter of the Book of Joshua, Psalm 20, and a prayer by a contemporary author. The reading from Joshua is of particular interest here. It was chosen carefully: Joshua assumed the Mosaic covenant as a ruler over cities and a conqueror of kings. Further, the passage dwells not only on God's pact with Joshua, but also on Joshua 's pact with the population. God commands Joshua to succeed Moses as leader of the Isrealites; there is a clear parallel here between Joshua and the city council. The heart of God's instructions is contained in Verse 7, in which God tells Joshua to "observe to do according to all the law, which Moses my servant commanded thee: turn not from it to the right hand or to the left, that thou mayest prosper whithersoever thou goest." Joshua in turn speaks to "the officers of the people," who represent the burghers of Leipzig, commanding them to cross the river Jordan, leaving behind "your wives, your little ones, and your cattle," to conquer territory on the other side of the river, dominated by the city of Jericho. The officers then swear fealty to Joshua as the successor of Moses and representative of God." [11]

The covenant concept informed the city council's agenda regarding poor care and discipline. A key duty of councilors was to ensure the spiritual and physical welfare of all inhabitants, especially those who were unable to provide for themselves, and to punish those who threatened the common weal; this duty was seen in paternal terms. As governing mayor Franciscus Conrad Romanus stated in his inaugural speech in 1703, building on models of governance derived from the Greek city-states, the good were to be rewarded and the bad punished; justice and obedience were to be upheld "not only by instilling fear, but also through good words." [12]

Such thinking fit well with the practical responsibilities that the council had assumed during the sixteenth century. As in Protestant and Catholic towns throughout Europe, poor care and discipline were localized. Categories and emphases which remained in force until the late eighteenth century were established then. These included a division of beggars into categories of "deserving" and "undeserving," or "able-bodied." The deserving (widowed, orphaned, or disabled) were to be provided with alms by the city or given official "begging letters," and the able-bodied forbidden to beg, and punished if they did. Further, the council emphasized keeping the poor from outside Leipzig from entering and lodging in the city, goals which eluded it. In accordance with its principles, the council converted the existing house of St. George, which had mainly served pilgrims, into a hospital and poor house during the Reformation. In 1631, during the Thirty Years' War, the building burned. From 1668 to 1671, the council erecte d a new building; its institutional form was similar to that of the house built starting in 1700, but on a much smaller scale.

In one practical expression of its agenda, the council attempted to replicate the structure of the patriarchal family, the "holy household," in the new St. George. As elsewhere in Europe, a married couple called the house "father" and "mother" was in charge of operating the house. [13] The couple was invested with considerable power. The house father was to carry the keys of the house with him at all times; he kept account books, supervised other house employees, and had authority over the discipline and punishment of inmates. The house mother's office included duties "like those of the house father in all matters that are appropriate to a woman." She kept an eye on female employees and inmates, supervised the washing and mending of clothes, bought food, and supervised cooking. The status of subordinate employees was parallel to that of journey-men in artisanal households. The rasping master, discipline father, gate guard, teachers, cook, spinning supervisor, nurses, baker, and other employees were to obey t he house "parents" and perform specific duties.

Inmates of various types were integrated into this patriarchally organized house. Orphans were the main object of the "love" of the city council directed at the city's poor and weak. The stated aim of the council was to enable the orphans to go out into the world and lead lives in the social mainstream. When they were "grown," boys were to be started in a trade "or helped to enter another profession for which they show interest." Girls were to be placed in service "with honest people, so that if they want to do good and learn properly they can attain independence and await their fortune [marriage]." [14] The council's success in actually placing the orphans was limited, a common problem in a world where legitimate birth and family networks were crucial to success. Still, the children had steady supervision in the form of house teachers and female employees. Teachers slept in the childrens' rooms, rose with them, supervised their washing and dressing, supervised prayer hours, ate with them, and prepared them for bed in addition to teaching them. The children were given Christmas presents of apples, nuts, Pfefferkuchen, marzipan, and useful items like sewing needles. [15]

Most of the other groups incarcerated in St. George represented those who were to be punished. One purpose of the new house was to suppress prostitution. As Lyndal Roper has shown, the regulation of female sexuality, including the suppression of prostitution, was at the center of the urban political agenda during the Reformation; this agenda had not changed. But the venues in which prostitution was practiced now included new public meeting places like coffee houses, the first of which in Leipzig opened in 1694. The expansion of the fairs also led to an expansion of prostitution. In a memorial of 1701 to the Electoral government, councilors wrote that "we constantly strive to capture the females who are rumored to follow a suspicious and obscene life and turn them from this city." In St. George, prostitutes would "not only be forced to do work suitable to their status and sex and earn their keep, but also, and most importantly, the common weal will be cleansed of them." [16] The incarceration of beggars was i ntended to reinforce another aspect of the ideal of the holy household: the "able-bodied" beggars whom the council targeted were not acting in their proper roles as economically productive workers; rather, they drew money from productive burghers. Despite ideological continuity, incarceration was on a new scale, as was the goal of forcing prisoners to work.

Religion was at the ideological center of the whole project. The city council spent a disproportionate amount of money on the construction of St. George's chapel, which was located on the second floor of the house. 1000 thaler (th.) of the city council's 4000 th. total contribution to the construction of the house were earmarked specifically for the "chapel, steeple, and bell." The only major expenditures on luxury items in the house were for the chapel: an Italian Stuccaturrier was paid 425 th. to finish the ceiling and altar; the confessional was upholstered in red leather and the pulpit covered with red satin; sculptors, metal workers, painters, and carpenters were hired to make and decorate Ionian capitals, pews, grates, and walls. [17]

Pietism was an important influence on St. George. Longtime house pastor Johann Adam Gehr was a committed Pietist. He and leading city councilors probably together introduced Pietist pedagogical methods into the house and made them the backbone of the orphans' experience there. The new methods originated in Halle, where August Hermann Francke was strengthening a link between literacy and religion established during the Reformation. [18] One house teacher mentioned Halle as a model in 1721. The house regularly bought catechisms, Bibles, prayer books, hymnals, and other instructional materials from the Halle presses established by Erancke, as well as writing tablets, paper, and other books from Leipzig merchants. [19] The core of the orphans' education was religious, as was common to all elementary schooling at the time, and it was integrated into a wider scheme of religious life and discipline, which included rising at 5:00 am in the summer and 6:00 am in the winter. Instruction was the same for girls and boys , except that some boys were taught Latin and prepared for university study. Instruction was probably more thorough than that which orphans in many other European cities received; in some areas, for example, boys but not girls were taught to read. Along with the influence of Pietism, this reflected the generally high level of education and literacy in Leipzig and other Saxon towns.

The construction of St. George and the role of burghers

The new St. George was a prominent architectural presence in Leipzig. The house that it replaced had been located outside the city wall, away from public consciousness; it had been a plain structure without distinguishing features. The new house was built just inside the wall, in a part of town (the Bruhl) dominated by taverns, inns, and the poor; a position that also highlighted the marginal position of the inmates. [20] Councilors made much of the fact that it was strongly fortified, making escape difficult for the inmates. In 1725-26 and 1732-35 entirely new buildings were added at substantial cost on adjoining property acquired by the council. [21]

As it constructed St. George, the city council concretely expressed its magisterial authority. The council used several modern strategies to bring the house into the public limelight. Inmates were simultaneously locked up and put on view, becoming newly prominent in the process. The city council financed the construction largely by public subscription, thereby both publicizing its project and showing its reliance on burghers' participation. Over 200 Leipzigers and over seventy visitors from other cities contributed over 9000 th. to the total cost of 14,757 th. [22] A collection box set up at the construction site of the new building brought in an additional 400 th. The city council offered tours of the institution and its inmates after construction was finished in 1704. Most visitors came to inspect the institution in the first three years of its existence, but a steady stream continued to come in the years following. [23]

The city council ornamented the house to express its ideals to the general population. In 1726 a sculptor from Dresden was commissioned to make two statues representing "Love" (Die Liebe) and "Punishment" (Die Strafe) to flank the front entrance of a building newly added to St. George. The statues highlighted the city council's dual mission in the city as a whole and in the institution in particular: to help the "good" and punish the "bad." The same sculptor was also commissioned to make a large stone sculpture of St. George himself in his classic pose on horseback slaying a dragon; a Leipzig harnessmaker added a gilded harness for the horse. [24] A large stone block over the front door carried a Latin inscription that glorified the role of the city council. House director Johann Ernst Kregel, a senior councilor elected to oversee the house's affairs, contributed 1,637 th. to top the building with a steeple in 1704. He made his donation "from good intentions, to the honor of God, the best of this house, and the ornamentation of this worthy city." Indeed, the house was often referred to as a civic "ornament"

By aggressively promoting religious activities in the house, the city council strove not only to expand its control over inmates, but also to assert its power in the religious arena over other civic institutions. The city council initiated services that a large number of burghers attended and appointed a cleric to hold them, thereby successfully invading cultural territory controlled by the Leipzig clergy. In the old house, a cleric from another church had held simple services that were attended only by inmates; traditionally, services for the general population were held only in Leipzig's two main churches. A protracted struggle for power over the services in the St. George's chapel began in June, 1703, which the council eventually won. [25]

This brings us to the subject of burghers. They were involved with St. George in a variety of roles. Burghers flocked to services in the new chapel, and actively demanded admission when they were initially denied it. By mid-1705 the St. George pastor was preaching to large crowds of four to five hundred people, most of them not inmates. When he was questioned by the Leipzig Superintendent about burghers attending services, the newly installed house pastor stated that the house guards allowed "students, burghers, and other honorable men and women" in. The burghers," continued the pastor, "complained that they had made large contributions to the poor house and it was not fair that they were not let in. They also threatened to stop contributing to the alms box if they were not allowed to attend services." [26]

The response of burghers to other dimensions of the city council's project was mixed. Like their peers around Europe, many burghers continued to give alms to "undeserving" beggars on the street, and some interfered when beadles arrested beggars. The city council, like authorities elsewhere, repeatedly issued laws forbidding this. But burghers responded with enthusiasm to other dimensions of the house, for in several ways it served their interests. We have seen that they voluntarily contributed about two-thirds of the cost of construction of the new building in 1700-1704. Most of the contributors from Leipzig whose occupations were listed were members of the local elites: twenty city councilors, twenty-five merchants, and eighteen further men listed as having university degrees. Several tradesmen from prosperous trades also contributed: three shopkeepers, two book dealers, two pharmacists, a jeweler, a barber (who donated his free services for six years), and a soapmaker. Almost all of the non-Leipzigers came from trade centers with close connections to Leipzig; most were probably visitors to the fairs. Their home cities, Hamburg, Augsburg, Nuremberg, Zurich, Basel, and central German towns like Gera, Magdeburg, and Chemnitz, mirrored the geography of Leipzig's inter-city trade. The contributors from Leipzig and outside were overwhelmingly male.

Some burghers actively supported the coercive aspects of the house. In 1708 the Leipzig shopkeepers and merchants petitioned the city council for intensified punishment of thieves, who often roamed the city in gangs; they should be "not only flogged but also imprisoned for a few years or for life, and be put to odious work like street cleaning, construction, or digging ... in chains and on a diet of bread and water." [27] Individual artisans had their apprentices incarcerated up to several weeks for insubordination. And as we will see below, families used the house as a depository for relatives.

The practice of discipline and charity

Everyday practices within St. George were clearly guided by the council's formal ideals: councilors used a variety of strategies to establish a well-ordered household. However, overcrowding, underfunding, and the very extension of patriarchal authority to house parents undermined the council's actual exercise of power. When abuses became obvious, investigations were launched, and were documented with great precision. These records exist in their lurid detail because councilors felt compelled to uphold their reputations and feared negative publicity among inhabitants of Leipzig. However, the effectiveness of the investigations varied,

The composition of the inmates in St. George was constant: about half were orphans, and a quarter each were classified as "poor, old, and melancholy," and as "prisoners." Beggars, who were incarcerated only for short periods, were listed separately. In the 1720's about a hundred passed through the house each year. [28] The city council attempted to establish order among this heterogeneous population through a strategy parallel to its method of ruling the city generally. Just as it separated the larger population of Leipzig into groups defined by occupation and gender, and invested their relationships with religious meaning, so it separated the employees and inmates of St. George into categories whose dress, food, and daily activities were minutely defined and regulated.

The inmates were marked in ways that articulated their respective roles as objects of love and punishment. Male prisoners were assigned the onerous work of rasping wood, and female prisoners of spinning, The orphans also did some work, but spent several hours a day in instruction. By 1715, provisions had been made for separating the mentally ill and beggars into separate chambers. [29] The groups of inmates wore different clothing obtained from prescribed sources, and received different rations of food. [30] While the staples for all groups were soup, cooked vegetables, and bread, the quality of the soup and in particular the amount and quality of meat that each received varied. Significantly, all the inmates became equals on religious occasions: they were to "receive cake (Scollen) at Christmas and for two days at Easter and Pentecost. Those who go to communion receive a half pound of meat and a pint of beer each time." But orphans and adult inmates attended separate daily prayer hours. [31] Even during Sun day services, which, like prayer hours, were mandatory, inmates were seated separately. According to a plan drawn up by director Kregel in 1703, orphans were to sit on benches at the rear of the ground floor. Artisans employed to teach the orphans trades were to sit in the first balcony, and "sinful women" in the second. Prisoners were to hear the service from a secure room in the basement beneath the chapel, through a hole in the chapel floor. The director was to sit in an enclosed pew at the rear of the church. [32]

Several circumstances common around Europe prevented the realization of the city council's ideal of a well-ordered institution. The rising tide of poverty and displacement, especially after the 1710's, led to the house being constantly overfilled and underfunded. As a result of overcrowding, different groups of inmates were mixed together by day and night. Attempts to make money by the inmates' forced labor were frustrated by the poor health of many inmates. Some of the female prisoners were breast feeding or had small children. Further, officials complained that many prisoners were not incarcerated long enough to become productive workers. [33] Not least, order in the house was disrupted by the abusive and corrupt ways of many employees, especially house fathers and mothers, abuses which derived from the very extension of the city council's patriarchal authority to them. Reports of spoiled food, stealing, and the abuse of inmates were repeatedly made, and these reports led to investigations in which violati ons of health, diet, and general treatment were documented in detail.

The degree of attentiveness that leading city councilors brought to their position as overseers varied. The first director, Kregel, invested considerable effort in ensuring proper administration. In 1707 he complained of house father Schussler's "evil nature and his wife's bad ways," which had not improved despite reprimands. Schussler could not keep track of finances, "frequented tobacco collegia," had raped one teenage orphan and had her spirited away, and allowed a friend to abuse others. Kregel threatened to resign if the council did not fire Schussler; the council obliged. [34] By contrast, a later house director, Caspar Bose, was lax and was even accused of being abusive by one inmate.

An important reason for councilors to combat such problems was fear of negative publicity in the city. Although large by German standards of the time, Leipzig was still small enough for rumors of corruption and abuse to spread rapidly. Gossip could be spread by former inmates. For example, in 1718, house pastor Gehr told a group of city councilors that "there has been talk nor only in our house, but also in the city that one of the orphans' teachers has a more than permissible acquaintance with the house mother. If [a former inmate] were to speak of them, it would sound bad." Councilors called in and interrogated Maria Magdalena Wagenhold, who had spent several months in St. George and was spreading the gossip. Wagenhold said she had nor witnessed anything herself, but had heard from several female employees of incidents going back four years concerning a relationship between the house mother and a teacher. The teacher resigned on the order of the council several months later. [35]

Fear of bad publicity and the conscientiousness of individual city councilors led to two extensive investigations of the house in 1721 and 1724. In both years the governing mayor was Adrian Steger, suggesting that he or a councilor in his rotating group was attentive to the situation in the house. Steger delegated not house director Bose, but rather councilors who were not connected to the house to lead the investigations, which indicates that Bose was lax in his duties. The extent of the abuses also suggests this: the protocols and reports of the 1724 investigation filled over a hundred pages. [36] Senior councilors visited the house to interrogate employees and inmates; others were summoned to the city hall to be interrogated. In both cases the accusations were similar although the house father and mother in charge in 1724, Johann and Maria Sibylla Nautze, were more malevolent than their predecessors, Johann Gottfried Gehr (the brother of the house pastor) and his wife. Councilors wrote in 1721 that "it ha s been noted that the house father has no respect, especially for the women and the grown orphan girls." [37] The Nautzes and their subordinate employees regularly and severely beat the inmates. They were reported to be "unmerciful" to the children and to "melancholy" inmates. In 1724, a seamstress stated that scabies had become so bad that "it is almost unbearable to be around the children, and there are not three who are healthy and without rashes on their hands, feet, or elsewhere." In addition, Frau Nautze stole food, especially meat, and sometimes sold it back to the inmates; sick inmates were given the same food as others; the children's clothing was not changed often enough; and hardly any soap was used to wash inmates' clothes. [38]

The councilors were more attentive to some abuses than others. They laid particular emphasis on the quality of food, and were meticulous in documenting reports of bad food. Their attention derived from the city council's responsibility to provide adequate food for all inhabitants of Leipzig, a basic obligation throughout early modern Europe. [39] The descriptions of the food served to inmates were indeed vivid. The teachers reported in 1721 that "the soup is usually water soup, and often mouse and rat excrement, flies, and maggots are in it ... the meat is often spoiled, e.g. stinking. This past Wednesday and on July 9 ... some of the boys who ate it became ill and vomited." [40] One adult, appealing to the parental role of the city council as well as the house mother and father, wrote in the name of all orphan children" to the city council: "our meat yesterday stank like carrion ... Several orphan girls with Herr Buchner [a teacher] told the house father and mother this, but they became angry and said that those who did not want to eat their food could leave it. But such an unfatherly answer does not still our hunger. Please have mercy on us, our fathers ... " [41] In response, councilors made announced and unannounced visits to the kitchen while the food was being prepared, and to the dining room during meals. During the 1724 investigation, an official fished extraneous substances out of the soup fed to inmates and folded them into a piece of paper, writing on it, "The enclosed has been found in the soups in the prison and orphan house." The findings are still preserved inside the grease-stained paper, which was bound into the investigation file: wood chips, pieces of an evergreen plant, and grain husks. [42]

In contrast to their close attention to food, the councilors' interest in documenting reports of sexual abuse was slight. None of the reports of rape seems to have been followed up by questioning of the victims, or even by close questioning of witnesses. The interrogations of employees and inmates on the subject of abuse focused on beatings rather than sexual abuse. This situation reflects the priorities of the city council and also those of burghers, since the investigations were geared to the fear of negative gossip about the city council's regime. It was matters that were defined as basic to the council's public duties that were stressed during the investigations, and these did not include preventing sexual abuse.

The outcomes of the investigations varied, and the removal of house parents did not necessarily depend on them. Director Kregel had had one house father dismissed even without an investigation. The investigation of 1721 led indirectly to the departure of house father Gehr. Councilors "seriously warned [Gehr] to observe his office and duties better." [43] Just three months after the investigation was concluded, the house teachers wrote to the council reiterating numerous complaints, [44] Gehr was now fined 10 thaler, a substantial amount. He either was fired or resigned the next year. In spite of the disturbing findings of the 1724 investigation, however, the Nautzes were merely admonished to "follow their duties" as laid down in their contracts. [45] They remained in their positions until the 1740's.

The inmates speak

Between 1708 and 1724 three women and one man wrote to the Leipzig city council asking to be released. The inmates explained the reasons for their incarceration, provided details on their backgrounds, and made a case for their release. Their letters give voice to individuals who appear as objects in most sources. They reveal how the very concept of covenant, as well as the complexity of Scripture, allowed for appropriation by informed objects of discipline. The letters are structured by specific concepts of obligations: each inmate held the city council to its role as an executor of a divine covenant. They also reflected knowledge of secular legal procedure. The letters thus show that while absorbing official political and religious tenets, ordinary inhabitants learned not only the Catechism but also how to argue for their own rights. However, the inmates accepted many of the premises of official doctrine. Their appeals were shaped by gender-specific expectations of roles to be played in a patriarchal househo ld: the women stressed being obedient wives and good mothers, whereas the man promised to support his wife after his release. Further, whereas the women appealed to councilors as guarantors of patriarchal ideals, which in two cases had been violated by their relatives, the man promised to fulfill those ideals himself. How typical were these individuals of inmates in Leipzig and other cities? They belonged to the one-half of St. George inmates (excluding beggars) who were classified as "poor, old, and melancholy" and as "prisoners." Three came from sub-burgher backgrounds, but only one of them was impoverished; the fourth was a noblewoman. People from rural backgrounds, who made up a large proportion of the poor, were not represented. The reasons for these inmates' incarcerations were typical for Europe. However, their literacy, while common for Saxony and some other towns in northern Europe, was less typical.

The letters of Maria Glafey are the most extensive, and allow for the most detailed discussion of inmates' concepts of justice and their rights. Glafey was committed to St. George in 1721 after the death of her husband Adam, a former sergeant (Wachtmeister) in official service in the nearby principality of Saxony-Gotha. During the investigation of abuses of 1724, she wrote a series of letters to Dr. Johann August Holtzel, the city councilor in charge of the investigation. [46] Glafey, then aged 52, comes across as a perhaps eccentric but clear-headed woman. Like many other older inmates, she was relegated to St. George because she fell through the cracks of her family's social network. She wrote that she had been placed "with the old people" because she did not get along with her son and his wife. Earlier, her own mother had excluded her from her will. Glafey based her arguments on Scripture, especially on the Old Testament covenant and the Ten Commandments. She sprinkled her letters with Scriptural quotes a nd references. She was proud of her mastery of the Bible, writing that "I can tell you six hundred Biblical sayings (Spruche) by heart." Her implicit claim was that the care of poor widows was among the responsibilities of a covenant between the city council and God. Unlike the other inmates, Glafey did not appeal to local laws or employees' contracts, although she did name other inmates who would testify to her claims. Her lack of concern with secular law and procedure was reflected in the form of her letters. She does not seem to have consulted other inmates about style or address. Her orthography and punctuation were oral and her handwriting fluid but hard to read. She left no margins, and wrote one letter on the back of a sheet of paper that had been used before. Rather, her guide was her deeply seated, Scripturally based conviction that she was being wronged.

Glafey shared with city councilors a belief in the binding nature of righteousness as defined by the Decalogue. In this spirit she wrote, "I tell you that in this house violence goes before justice ... I am now forced to be in a house in which there are people who do not obey the holy Ten Commandments." She had internalized official ideals of female behavior and the inequalities they entailed, but used them to profile herself as righteous: she wrote that "in thirty-three years of marriage I never received a single blow from my husband, for I knew of the obedience of Abraham's wife Sarah, and held to it.' [47] She referred to female inmates at St. George who engaged in sex outside of marriage as "whores."

Glafey chronicled the treatment she had received from the house father, house mother, and other employees in harrowing detail. She had been whipped and beaten a number of times, left alone in unheated rooms during the winter, fed poorly or not at all, forced to do hard manual labor, called a prostitute, threatened, and insulted in other ways. For the previous year and a half, she had been placed in "the hole" (das Loch), as solitary confinement was known in the early modern world. [48] The house father made a point of humiliating her when he brought visitors through on tours of the house. Often her mistreatment reduced her to lying in bed for weeks on end. Nevertheless, Glafey demanded rather than requested better treatment. She did appeal in moving terms to the good intentions of Holtzel as a caretaker of the poor and weak. But her pleas for mercy were overshadowed by threats based on her unshakeable confidence in her close relationship with God, and her conviction that God would reward those who did good a nd punish evildoers. For example, she wrote, "I order God to avenge me. He will repay Herr Bose for what he has done to me... May the Herr Doctor let me speak with him just once, for I can talk with God but not with Herr Doctor Holtzel ... God says, if you do too much to the widow, I will punish you." Implicitly comparing herself to wealthy councilors, Glafey wrote, "Christ says how difficult it will be for a rich man to enter God's kingdom: a camel will pass through the eye of a needle before even one rich person will. I am a very poor woman."

Glafey's confidence was shaped by contact with Pietists. The form that her contacts took drives home the connection among literacy, religion, and concepts of rights. Glafey had grown up in the house of the Pietist city councilor Abraham Christoph Platz. [49] She related that she had been instructed in reading and writing by August Hermann Francke himself and had heard his sermons; she would have been in her teens then, since Francke lived in Leipzig from 1684 to 1690. Glafey based the central point of her letters on the message of Francke's last sermon in Leipzig: "God sees, God hears, God punishes," which she had made the "firm foundation of my heart." In one letter, referring to this Old Testament warning, Glafey threatened the city council with divine punishment if she did not receive decent treatment. On the front of another letter she simply wrote the message above the address.

Glafey's treatment apparently did not improve after the start of the investigation, and her letters do not seem to have helped her cause. Her first five letters at least went unanswered, and director Bose had her beaten for sending them. The tone of the later letters was increasingly desperate. She concluded the last one thus: "I beg of you, High and Honorable Doctor [Holtzel], in the name of the miracles of Christ and of God's mercy, please release me from my punishment, I cannot remain in the hole any longer ... if I have done anything, I beg you to have me beaten to death ... please let me go to Reichenbach [to her daughter], then I will be content, but please soon, I beg of you, help me soon." It seems that her request for release was not granted and that she remained in the house until her death six years later, in 1730: the Leipzig mortuary register lists her as an inmate of the house. [50]

The background of the next letter writer was very different from Glafey's. Johanna Wilhemina von Rochau was committed to St. George in June, 1709 by order of her father, a chamberlain at the Electoral court at Dresden. The court master of ceremonies, writing to the city council on her father's behalf, claimed that von Rochau had been arrested on the spoken order of the Elector because "she has been leading a scandalous and restless life, thus prostituting her gender." Her offence was to have become pregnant by an unnamed man, apparently a person of high standing; she had given birth six months previously. A court intrigue of some kind stood behind von Rochau's incarceration: no written warrant was issued and she was committed under an alias, Tiefenbach ("deep brook"). Von Rochau reacted vigorously to the deprivation of her liberty. She wrote three letters to the city council, one to Elector August, and one to the Electoral government. In her first letter to the city council, she apologized for not having the letter composed by a lawyer: "because of a lack of money, I myself composed it and had it copied by a prisoner, for my handwriting is not very legible." The prisoner's handwriting was immaculate and the phrasing polished. It is also possible that she received legal advice from one of the house teachers or another employee. But von Rochau's handwriting and general level of literacy were better than she admitted: she wrote the other letters herself in a clear and fluent hand, using official forms of address and modish French and Latin phrases. [51]

Von Rochau framed her case in terms of secular legal procedure and religious ethics, with a plea for mercy cast in gendered terms. The thrust of all her arguments was the same: she had been wronged and deserved to be set free. It is worth noting that she stated her case purely as one who had been wronged. She had not accepted the patriarchal claim put forward by the master of ceremonies and her father that bearing an illegitimate child was a sin, and she did not apologize. Using secular legal argumentation, she demanded a copy of a written order calling for her incarceration. Without such an order the authorities had no right to jail her: "my most honored [city councilorsi must know that the Raison for incarceration must be communicated in writing even to the worst criminals, among which I am certainly not." She requested at the very least to be put in touch with a lawyer. [52] Von Rochau also used religious argumentation centered on an ideal of paternal behavior and the injunction to reconcile with one's en emies: she wrote that the master of ceremonies, her father, and other "enemies" despised her and sought her "complete ruin and downfall. But may God have mercy and convert my father to the good! that he have a fatherly, merciful, and Christian heart toward me. For otherwise the state of both our souls is a poor one indeed." Von Rochau also argued from her position as a mother: "please set me free and restore to me my poor, small, innocent flesh and blood of which I have been robbed. For God and man know that a mother and child belong together." [53] Finally, von Rochau intimated that the authorities were especially out of line in incarcerating a noblewoman.

In contrast to Glafey's letters, von Rochau's resulted in her release. By September, the city council started passing along her complaints to the Dresden authorities. The council's financial concerns meshed with von Rochau's desire to be liberated: "we have been feeding and keeping her, but she herself is protesting vehemently against her incarceration and demands to be released, as can be seen from the enclosed." Her health did not permit her to work; on account of occasional deep depression she had been receiving better and more expensive care than other inmates; and she had "hardly any clothes, which because of the cold air presents a danger to her health. This state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue." [54] When von Rochau's father attended the January, 1710 fair the house director dispatched the house father to his quarters at a wig-maker's. The father stated that Johanna Wilhemina "had been his daugher, but he now had no more responsibility for her." The city council could release her if it desir ed. Soon afterward, Johanna Wilhemina was indeed released. [55]

The third woman's letters are not as extensive as those of Glafey and von Rochau, and information about her is more sparse; but the letters add to the picture of individuals' concepts of justice and their rights. In late 1708 Anna Elisabeth Muller, the wife of a lieutenant, was incarcerated for stealing. Her case was complex because she was seriously ill, with convulsions, bleeding from her mouth, and white discharge. The Leipzig authorities exchanged concerned memos about Muller, noting that she could infect other inmates and suggesting that she be moved to the city hospital. [56] In this correspondence, Muller appears as an unfortunate object of discipline. However, she was able to make a coherent case for her release. [57] The content of her two letters was similar; one was written by the same male prisoner who had written von Rochau's first letter (an early modern jailhouse lawyer), while the other was in her own somewhat difficult but literate hand. Perhaps the prisoner helped Muller compose her letter, and Muller then copied it. Her request was structured less formally than the others and her tone was far less strident, perhaps because the reason for her incarceration was clear. But by arguing that she had spiritually atoned for her crime, she was arguing that she had earned the right to be released. Muller presented herself as a reformed sinner: she had stolen only a few things and had given them back because she had felt guilty. On the basis of this internal atonement, which she had expressed by giving back the things, she deserved to be released. She also appealed to the male authorities as a poor and ill woman with the hope of being granted clemency: she was sick and had five children to care for. Muller's fate is unclear. [58]

Finally, in 1718 Valentin Schulrze, a man from Leipzig, wrote to the council in his own practiced hand requesting to be freed. [59] His social status seems to have been moderate although nor well off: he lived in rented rooms, but was married. He had spent four years in Sr. George as a prisoner, where he had been sentenced when his landlord took him to court after a quarrel. He noted his "miserable and poor" condition in the house. In effect, Schultze accepted the legitimacy of his incarceration, but argued that he deserved to be released because he had atoned, served time, and behaved well: "I have spent a considerable amount of time in this penitentiary, and have conducted myself well. Therefore, I most humbly ask and implore my most Honorable and Esteemed Sirs to release me." Schultze's argument that he had "improved" accorded with the council's policy that criminals were to be incarcerated until they showed improvement. Emphasizing Decalogic definitions of appropriate behavior (and indicating that he had been incarcerated because he was generally quarrelsome), Schultze added, "I promise Sanctissime to live in peace and harmony with my wife, and not cause my neighbors (Neben-Christen) any vexation." He promised to fulfill the central role of the head of a patriarchal household by "support[ing] myself and my family in a Christian and honorable way." Finally, by using extremely submissive language Schultze represented himself as an obedient subject of the council's authority. The council accepted Schultze's argumentation: it decided to release him "in return for a solemn vow." [60]

These letters expand our understanding of the social composition of Leipzig's inmate population as well as how inmates related to the council. They illustrate the social diversity of the inmate population, the fluidity of the category of social marginality, and the ease with which women in particular were susceptible to being committed by their families. Surely at least Glafey and von Rochau would not have imagined themselves as future inmates before their incarceration.

Conclusion

How did councilors, burghers, and inmates interact, and what power did each hold? At first glance, it seems that the city council held nearly all power: it built and administered St. George, passed laws regulating begging and crime, and decided who would be incarcerated and freed. However, burghers influenced the council in different ways. The council relied on burghers for financial contributions to the project. The house was intended to serve burghers' interests by functioning as a jail for insubordinate apprentices and thieves who disrupted business, and as an asylum or depository for relatives. And the council's investigations of 1721 and 1724 were motivated in part by fear of negative publicity. Interactions between burghers and inmates were more complex. On the one hand, many burghers acted as the council's partners in building and touring St. George, and in supporting the coercive aspects of the house. While many of their actions, such as attending services in the St. George chapel and protesting the arrest of beggars, were sympathetic to inmates and potential inmates, through them burghers functioned as a group distinct from them and profiled their relative wealth and generosity. On the other hand, burghers fell into many groups, ranging from rich merchants to marginal artisans. The line dividing them from the destitute could thus be thin. The two groups also interacted on many levels in their everyday lives. For example, many poor newcomers to the city lodged with burghers, a practice the council repeatedly forbade. [61] Maria Glafey herself had grown up in the house of a city councilor. Finally, in their interactions with the council, inmates of St. George had little or no financial and social leverage. But they, like burghers, were a diverse group, and their status as inmates generally was not permanent. On the basis of the knowledge they obtained before and during their incarceration, they were at least able to appeal to the council when norms concerning their care were violated or when they felt the y had atoned for their crimes, in two cases successfully.

To turn to the second issue with which this essay is concerned: how did religious concepts and practices influence poor care and punishment, and what role did religion play in the interactions among councilors, burghers, and inmates?

Religiously defined patriarchy was central to the construction and administration of St. George, and it structured the complex relations among social groups. City councilors used the language and imagery of Scripture to legitimate their authority over burghers and inmates, who accepted the often crass inequalities of status and gender that were basic to official norms. The model of the "holy household" organized the administration and daily practices of St. George, and seating during services in the chapel was planned to express hierarchies among inmates. The extension of patriarchal power to the house father and mother regularly led to the degradation of inmates. However, inherent to the language of covenant and Ten Commandments was a concept of reciprocal obligations, which inmates adopted in requesting freedom, and house employees used to protest abuse. Food customs associated with communion and religious holidays levelled differences at least among inmates. And Pietists' emphasis on literacy cut across so cial lines and increased the assertiveness of inmates like Glafey. Further, the council used patriarchal ideals in part because they appealed to many burghers. Religious thought and practice thus operated on many levels. The principles established during the Reformation proved remarkably flexible, and were adapted for use in a changing social environment.

Department of History

Millersville, PA 17551-0302

ENDNOTES

Thanks to Richard Fulmer, Kirsty McClure, Jotham Parsons, Mack Walker, Tracey Weis, and the anonymous readers of this journal for their comments on drafts of article. Some of the ideas were discussed at Women's Studies graduate seminars at Johns Hopkins University in 1995 and 1996.

(1.) Recent overviews: for Germany, Wolfgang von Hippel, Armut, Unterschichten, Randgruppen in der fruhen Neuzeit (Munich, 1995); for Europe, Robert Jutte, Poverty and Deviance in Early Modern Europe (New York, 1994). On discipline, see most famously Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish. The Birth of the Prison (New York, 1977).

(2.) Martin Dinges, "Fruhneuzeitliche Armenfursorge als Sozialdisziplinierung? Probleme mit einem Konzept," Geschichte und Gesellschaft 17 (1991), 5-29; Katrin Keller, "Armut und Tod im alten Handwerk. Formen sozialer Sicherung im sachsischen Zunftwesen des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts," P. Johanek, ed., Stadtische Armen- und Krankenfursorge in Spatmittelalter und fruher Neuzeit (forthcoming).

(3.) Christopher Friedrichs, "Artisans and urban politics in seventeenth-century Germany," in Geoffrey Crossick, ed., The Artisan and the European Town, 1500-1900 (Aldershot, 1997), 41-55; 49.

(4.) See especially Lyndal Roper, The Holy Household. Women and Morals in Reformation Augsburg (London, 1989). Mary Lindemann, Patriots and Paupers. Hamburg, 1712-1830 (New York, 1990), emphasizes the centrality of poor care and discipline to urban governance.

(5.) Udo Strater, "Pietismus und Sozialtatigkeit. Zur Frage nach der Wirkungsgeschichte des 'Waisenhauses' in Halle und des Frankfurter Armen-, Waisen- und Arbeitshauses," Pietismus und Neuzeit 8(1982), 201-230.

(6.) Stadtarchiv Leipzig (StadtAL), Stift. IV.28. Armen-Anstalten zu Franckfurth am Mayn, Weimar, Berlin. (c. 1700).

(7.) Wolfgang Martens, ed., Leipzig: Aufklarung und Burgerlichkeit (Heidelberg, 1990).

(8.) Helmut Brauer, ed. and intro., Der Leipziger Rat und die Bettler, Quellen und Analysen zu Bettlern und Bettelwesen in der Messesstadt bis ins 18. Jahrhundert (Leipzig, 1996) provides a valuable account both of the council's policies and of the poor.

(9.) The covenant was a model for various early modem political ideologies. See Gerhard Oestreich, "The religious covenant and the social contract," in Neostoicism and the early modern state (New York, 1982), 135-154.

(10.) One of three groups of about twelve, each headed by a mayor, rotated to take office. See Gustav Wustmann, Quellen zur Geschichte Leipzigs, Vol. II (Leipzig, 1895), Introduction, 59-128.

(11.) The Bible, King James Version. These tenets were celebrated before the general population during a festive worship service held in the church of St. Nicholas.

(12.) StadtAL, Tit. VIII.41. Protocoll in den Drey Rathen, 1687-1709. August 27, 1703, 734-37.

(13.) Instructionen for the house father, house mother, rasping master, and discipline father, July 16, 1706. StadtAL, Das Hospital St. Georgen, 23-32, 33-36', 37-42, 43-47'. The other employees are mentioned in passing.

(14.) Suggestions of a city councilor, n.d., c. 1700. StadtAL, Stiff. III.A.14, Acta, Das Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus betr., 12-29' 26'. See also Brauer, Der Leipziger Rat, 76.

(15.) StadtAL, Rechnungen des St. Georgen-Hauses, 1704-1740, rubric Ausgaben in Gemein.

(16.) Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, November 12, 1701. 9-10'.

(17.) StadtAL, Rechnung Uber Den gefuhrten Bau des von E. Edl. Hochw. Rat he dem Hospital zu St. Georgen, May 1, 1700 to December 2, 1704, 76-98. In many areas, Lutherans continued to confess in traditional confessionals before taking communion until the nineteenth century.

(18.) See James Van Horn Melton, Absolutism and the Eighteenth-Century Origins of Compulsory Scholing in Prussia and Austria (New York, 1988), and Richard Gawthrop and Gerald Strauss, "Protestantism and Literacy in Early Modern Germany," Past and Present 104 (1984) 31-55.

(19.) StadtAL, Rechnungen des St. Georgen-Hauses, 1704-1740, rubric Ausgaben in Gemein.

(20.) St. George was originally established in 1212, named for a popular saint who was associated with many causes.

(21.) The cost of the building added in 1725-26 was 17,400 th.; that of 1732-35, 21,405 th. Unbound sheets, 1725-26 and 1732-35 Rechnungen.

(22.) The list of donors: Rechnung uber den gefuhrten Bau, 1-11.

(23.) Rechnung des St. Georgen-Hauses. The house father led the tours and took half the proceeds.

(24.) The statues of Love and Punishment cost 60 th., and that of St. George 160 th. Unbound sheet in 1725-26 Rechnung.

(25.) Sachsisches Hauptstaatsarchiv Dresden, Loc. 9882, Die von dem Rath zu Leipzig in dem nauangelegten sogenannten Armen- und Waysen-Hausse erbauete neue Capelle oder Kirch ... 1703-1706; StadtAL, Tit. VII.B.49, Acta, Anrichtung einer Kirche im neuenArmen- und Waisenhause betr., 1705.

(26.) Thomas Ittig's account of his questioning of pastor Elias Hoffmann on June 25, 1705: Neue Capelle oder Kirch, 49-49', 50-51'.

(27.) Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, January 31, 1708, 127-128'.

(28.) Lists of inmates: 1701 and 1702: Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, 11. 1717, 1723, and 1728: Hospital St. Georgen, 10-13', 163-165, 223-224.

(29.) City council to Dresden authorities, December 29, 1715, Zucht- Armen- und WaisenHaus, 208-215; 212.

(30.) StadtAL, Stift III.A.106, Verschiedene, das Georgenhospital betr. Schriftstucke, Memorial to the city council, February 2, 1671, 7'; Speise-Zeddel, 1717, Hospital St. Georgen, 7-9.

(31.) Teachers' Instruction, c. 1706. Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, 81-84; 82.

(32.) Account of Leipzig Consistory protonotary, November 23, 1703, 41-41', 44-44'. Neue Capelle oder Kirch.

(33.) Hospital St. Georgen, August 24, 1717, 1-6'; 5. The annual Rechnungen do show modest, variable profits on the sale of rasped wood, cotton, and knit mittens and socks, but the amount never exceeded several hundred thaler a year.

(34.) November 17, 1707, Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, 114-119'.

(35.) This incident: ibid., 68-77.

(36.) StadtAL, Stift III.A.17. Acta, Die Untersuchung des Zucht-und Waysenhau[beta]es zu St. George alhier betr., 1724.

(37.) April 17, 1721. Ibid., 160-161.

(38.) Interrogations of Johann Adam Muller, April 5; of the house sexton and nurse, April 14; and Maria Elisabeth Sander, April 3; ibid., 16'-20', 25'-27 and 27-28', and 7-11'.

(39.) See Bernd Roeck, Backer, Brot und Getreide in Augsburg (Sigmaringen, 1987).

(40.) Johann Christoph Buchner, Johann George Olbricht, and Martin Ludwig, Praeceptores, August, 1721. Hospital St. Georgen, 150-151.

(41.) Aug. 14, 1721; ibid., 153.

(42.) Untersuchung, 31a.

(43.) April, 1721. Hospital St. Georgen, 156-157'.

(44.) Buchner, Olbricht, and Ludwig to city council, August, 1721. Ibid., 150-151.

(45.) Protocol of concluding discussion, August 26, 1724. Untersuchung, 52-53'.

(46.) The letters: Untersuchung, 54-57'. Three letters, one long and two shorter, are preserved. Glafey referred to the last as the sixth she had written. Glafey's husband's occupation is listed in the registry of her death: StadtAL, Ratsleichenbuch 1728-1733, August 4, 1730; 149.

(47.) The Sarah of Genesis (Chapters 11-23) was not characterized primarily as obedient to Abraham. At one point God even commanded Abraham to obey her (21:12). But in the New Testament she was held up as a model of married obedience: "Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands ... even as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord ..." (I. Peter 3:1 and 6).

(48.) Thanks to Richard Fulmer for this reference.

(49.) See Platz's autobiography, Lebens-Lauff u. letzter Abschied HERRN D. Abraham Christoph Plazens ... (Leipzig, 1729), cited in Martin Petzoldt, "'Wirst du deine Kirche fristen?'. Christentum und Kirche," in A. Frey & B. Weinkauf, Leipzig als ein Plei[beta]athen. Eine geistesgeschichtliche Ortsbestimmung (Leipzig: Reclam, 1995), 41-74; 69-70.

(50.) See note 47.

(51.) The handwriting and signature match the signature of the first letter. The letters: Zucht-Armen-und Waisen-Haus, 156-162, 169-172.

(52.) An die Landes-Regierung, Cantzler und Rathe, August 14 and 30, September 4 and 8, 1709. Ibid., 159, 169-169', 170, 171-172.

(53.) To city council, ibid., 161'.

(54.) City council to August, Sept. 9, 1709, ibid., 173-174'.

(55.) Report of house father Schopfel to city council, January 4, 1710; ibid., 177-177'.

(56.) November and December, 1708. Ibid., 137, 167-168'.

(57.) August 14 and 21, 1709; ibid., 161-166.

(58.) In December, 1708, the Dresden authorities ordered the city council to transfer Muller to the city hospital (Lazareth). But Muller was in St. George until at least August, 1709.

(59.) Letter of June 13, 1718. Zucht- Armen- und Waisen-Haus, 300-300'.

(60.) Note at the bottom of Schultze's letter.

(61.) Brauer, Der LeiPziger Rat, 58.
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