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Sidonia The Sorceress V2

William Mienhold

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Title: Sidonia The Sorceress V2

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SIDONIA THE SORCERESS

THE SUPPOSED DESTROYER OF THE WHOLE REIGNING DUCAL HOUSE OF

POMERANIA.

TRANSLATED BY LADY WILDE

MARY SCHWEIDLER

THE AMBER WITCH BY WILLIAM MEINHOLD DOCTOR OF THEOLOGY

IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. II.

1894

CONTENTS

SIDONIA THE SORCERESS.

BOOK III.

Continued.

FROM THE RECEPTION OF SIDONIA INTO THE CONVENT AT MARIENFLIESS

UP TILL HER EXECUTION, AUGUST 19TH, 1620.

CHAPTER IV.

How Dorothea Stettin is talked out of the sub-prioret by Sidonia,

and the priest is prohibited from visiting the convent.

CHAPTER V.

How Sidonia wounds Ambrosia von Guntersberg with an axe, because

she purposed to marry--And prays the convent porter, Matthias

Winterfeld, to death--For these, and other causes, the reverend

chaplain refuses to shrive the sorceress, and denounces her

publicly from the altar.

CHAPTER VI.

Dorothea Stettin falls sick, and how the doctor manages to bleed

her--Item, how Sidonia chases the princely commissioners into the

oak-forest.

CHAPTER VII.

How the assembled Pomeranian princes hold a council over Sidonia,

and at length cite her to appear at the ducal court.

ads:

CHAPTER VIII.

Of Sidonia's defence--Item, how she has a quarrel with Joachim

Wedel, and bewitches him to death.

CHAPTER IX.

How a strange woman (who must assuredly have been Sidonia) incites

the lieges of his Grace to great uproar and tumult in Stettin, by

reason of the new tax upon beer.

CHAPTER X.

Of the fearful events that take place at Marienfliess--Item, how

Dorothea Stettin becomes possessed by the devil.

CHAPTER XI.

Of the arrival of Diliana and the death of the convent priest--

Item, how the unfortunate corpse is torn by a wolf.

CHAPTER XII.

How Jobst Bork has himself carried to Marienfliess in his bed to

reclaim his fair young daughter Diliana--Item, how George

Putkammer threatens Sidonia with a drawn sword.

CHAPTER XIII.

How my gracious Lord Bishop Franciscus and the reverend Dr. Joel

go to the Jews' school at Old Stettin, in order to steal the Schem

Hamphorasch, and how the enterprise finishes with a sound.

cudgelling.

CHAPTER XIV.

How the Duke Francis seeks a virgin at Marienfliess to cite the

angel Och for him--Of Sidonia's evil plot thereupon, and the

terrible uproar caused thereby in the convent.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the death of the abbess, Magdalena von Petersdorfin--Item, how

Duke Francis makes Jobst Bork and his daughter, Diliana, come to

Camyn, and what happens there.

CHAPTER XVI.

Jobst Bork takes away his daughter by force from the Duke and Dr.

Joel; also is strengthened in his unbelief by Dr. Cramer--Item,

how my gracious Prince arrives at Marienfliess, and there

vehemently menaces Sidonia.

CHAPTER XVII.

Of the fearful death of his Highness, Duke Philip II. of

Pomerania, and of his melancholy but sumptuous burial.

CHAPTER XVIII.

How Jobst Bork and his little daughter are forced at last into the

"Opus Magicum"--Item, how his Highness, Duke Francis, appoints

Christian Ludecke, his attorney-general, to be witch-commissioner

of Pomerania.

CHAPTER XIX.

How Christian Ludecke begins the witch-burnings in Marienfliess,

and lets the poor dairy-mother die horribly on the rack.

CHAPTER XX.

What Sidonia said to these doings--Item, what our Lord God said;

and lastly, of the magical experiment performed upon George

Putkammer and Diliana, in Old Stettin.

CHAPTER XXI.

Of the awful and majestic appearance of the sun-angel, Och.

CHAPTER XXII.

How old Wolde is seized, confronted with Sidonia, and finally

burned before her window.

CHAPTER XXIII.

How Diliana Bork and George Putkammer are at length betrothed--

Item, how Sidonia is degraded from her conventual dignities and

carried to the witches' tower of Saatzig in chains.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Of the execution of Sidonia and the wedding of Diliana.

CONCLUSION.

Mournful destiny of the last princely Pomeranian remains--My visit

to the ducal Pomeranian vault in Wolgast, on the 6th May 1840.

THE AMBER WITCH.

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER VII.

How the Imperialists robbed me of all that was left, and likewise

broke into the church and stole the Vasa Sacra; also what

more befell us.

CHAPTER VIII.

How our need waxed sorer and sorer, and how I sent old Ilse with

another letter to Pudgla, and how heavy a misfortune this brought

upon me.

CHAPTER IX.

How the old maid-servant humbled me by her faith, and the Lord yet

blessed me, His unworthy servant.

CHAPTER X.

How we journeyed to Wolgast, and made good barter there.

CHAPTER XI.

How I fed all the congregation--Item, how I journeyed to the

horse-fair at Guetzkow, and what befell me there.

CHAPTER XII.

What further joy and sorrow befell us-Item, how Wittich Appelmann

rode to Damerow to the wolf-hunt, and what he proposed to my

daughter.

CHAPTER XIII.

What more happened during the winter--Item, how in the spring

witchcraft began in the village.

CHAPTER XIV.

How old Seden disappeared all on a sudden--Item, how the great

Gustavus Adolphus came to Pomerania, and took the fort at

Peenemuende.

CHAPTER XV.

Of the arrival of the high and mighty King Gustavus Adolphus, and

what befell thereat.

CHAPTER XVI.

How little Mary Paasch was sorely plagued of the devil, and the

whole parish fell off from me.

CHAPTER XVII.

How my poor child was taken up for a witch, and carried to Pudgla.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the first trial, and what came thereof.

CHAPTER XIX.

How Satan, by the permission of the most righteous God, sought

altogether to ruin us, and how we lost all hope.

CHAPTER XX.

Of the malice of the Governor and of old Lizzie--Item, of the

examination of witnesses.

CHAPTER XXI.

De confrontations testium.

CHAPTER XXII.

How the Syndicus Dom. Michelson arrived, and prepared his

defence of my poor child.

CHAPTER XXIII.

How my poor child was sentenced to be put to the question.

CHAPTER XXIV.

How in my presence the devil fetched old Lizzie Kolken.

CHAPTER XXV.

How Satan sifted me like wheat, whereas my daughter withstood him

right bravely.

CHAPTER XXVI.

How I received the Holy Sacrament with my daughter and the old

maid-servant, and how she was then led for the last time before

the court, with the drawn sword and the outcry, to receive

sentence.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Of that which befell us by the way--Item, of the fearful death of

the sheriff at the mill.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

How my daughter was at length saved by the help of the all-merciful,

yea, of the all-merciful God.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Of our next great sorrow, and final joy.

BOOK III. Continued.

FROM THE RECEPTION OF SIDONIA INTO THE CONVENT AT MARIENFLIESS UP

TILL HER EXECUTION, AUGUST 19TH, 1620.

VOL. II.

CHAPTER IV.

How Dorothea Stettin is talked out of the sub-prioret by

Sidonia, and the priest is prohibited from visiting the

convent.

If Sidonia could not be the pastor's wife, she was determined at

least to be sub-prioress, and commenced her preparations for this

object by knitting a little pair of red hose for her cat. Then she

sent for Dorothea Stettin, saying that she was weak and ill, and

no one took pity on her.

When the good Dorothea came as she was asked, there lay my serpent

on the bed in her nun's robes, groaning and moaning as if her last

hour had come; and scarcely had the sub-prioress taken a seat near

her, when my cat crept forth from under the bed, in his little red

hose, mewing and rubbing himself up against the robe of the

sub-prioress, as if praying her to remove this unwonted constraint

from him, of the little red hose.

After Dorothea had inquired about her sickness, she looked at the

cat, and asked wonderingly, what was the meaning of such a strange

dress?

Illa.--"Ah, dear friend, it was dreadful to my feelings to see the

little animal going about naked, therefore I knit little hose for

him, as you see; indeed, I am often tempted to wonder how the Lord

God could permit the poor animals to appear naked before us."

Haec (extending her arms for joy, so that she almost tumbled back

off the stool).--"Oh, God be praised and thanked, at last I have

found one chaste soul in this wicked world! (sobs, throws up her

eyes, falls upon Sidonia's neck, kisses her, and weeps over her:)

ah yes, one chaste soul at last, like herself!"

Illa.--"True, Dorothea, there is no virtue so rare in this

evil world as chastity. Ah, why has the Lord God placed such

things before our eyes? I never can comprehend it, and never will.

What a sight for a chaste virgin these naked animals! What did the

dear sister think on the matter?"

Haec.--"Ah, she knew not what to think, had asked the priest

about it."

Illa.--"And what did he say?"

Haec.--"He laughed at her."

Illa.--"Just like him, the lewd, hypocritical pharisee."

Haec.--"Eh? she was too hard on the good priest. He was a

pure and upright servant of God."

Illa.--"Ay, as Judas was. Had not sister Dorothea

heard----"

Haec.--"No; for God's sake, what? The dear sister frightened

her already."

Illa.--"First, you confess that the priest laughed when you

talked about chastity?"

Haec.--"Yes, true, ah, indeed true."

Illa.--"Then you remember that he preached a sermon lately

upon adul--upon adul--. No, she never could utter the word--the

horrible word. Upon the seventh commandment, to the great scandal

of the entire convent?"

Haec.--"Ah yes, ah yes, she was there, and had to stop one

ear with her finger, the other with her kerchief, not to hear all

the strange and dreadful things he was saying."

Illa.--"And yet this was the man that ran in and out of the

cloister daily at his pleasure, sent for or not--a young unmarried

man--though the convent rules especially declared an old

man. Ah, if she were sub-prioress, this scandal should

never be permitted."

Haec.--"What could be done? it was a blessed thing to live

in peace. Besides, the priest was such a pious man."

Illa.--"Pious? Heaven defend us from such piety! Why, had

she not heard?--the whole convent talked about it."

Haec.--"No, no; for God's sake, what had happened? tell

her--she had been making sausages all the morning, and had heard

nothing."

Illa.--"Then know, ah God, how it pained her to talk of

it--she had heard a great noise in the kitchen in the morning, as

if all the pots and pans were tumbled about, and when she ran in

to see--there was the priest--oh, her chaste eyes never had seen

such a sight--the pious priest making love to her old maid,

Wolde."

Haec.--"Impossible, impossible!--to her old maid, Wolde?"

Illa.-"Yea, and he was praying her for kisses, and praising

her fat hand, and extolling her white hair. But as to what more

she had seen----"

Haec.--"For God's sake, sister, what more?"

Illa (sighing, and covering her face with both hands).--"No,

no, that she could never bring her chaste lips to utter. Oh, that

such wickedness should be in the world (weeping bitterly). But she

would never enter the chapel again, and that priest there; nor

receive the rites from him. But this was not all; the dear sister

must hear how he revenged himself upon her, because she

interrupted his toying with the old hag. It was truth, all truth!

She (Sidonia) grew so ill with fright and horror that she was

unable to disrobe, and threw herself on the bed just as she was,

but growing weaker and weaker hour by hour, sent for the priest at

last, to pray with her, and afterwards to offer up general

supplication for her restoration, in the chapel with all the

sisterhood; but only think, the shameless hypocrite refused to

pray with her, because he spied an end of her black robe out of

the bed, declaring she was not ill at all, that she was a base

liar, all because she had lain down in her convent dress, and

finally went his way cursing and swearing, without even saying one

prayer, or uttering one word of comfort, as was his duty. And now,

alas! she must die without priest or sacrament! To what a Sodom

and Gomorrah she had come! But if an old hag like her maid was not

safe from the shameless parson, how could she or any of them be

safe? What was to be done? unless the dear sister, as

sub-prioress, took the matter in her own hands, and brought him to

task about it?"

At this proposal the other trembled like an aspen leaf, and seemed

more dead than alive. She wept, wrung her hands--for God's sake

what could she do? how could she talk on such a matter? Let the

abbess see to it, if she chose.

Illa.--"Stuff, the old pussy--the less said of her

the better. Why, she was worse than the old maid, Wolde, herself."

Haec.--"The abbess? why, the whole convent, and the whole

world too, talked of her piety and virtue."

Illa.--"Very virtuous, truly, to have the priest locked up

with her; and when some of the sisters wished to remain,

suspecting that all was not right, the priest pushed them out at

the door with his own hands, and bolted it after them, as many

could testify to her had been done this very day. Oh, what a Sodom

and Gomorrah she had been betrayed into! (weeping, sobbing, and

falling upon Dorothea's neck.) I pray you, sister, for the sake of

our heavenly bridegroom, bring this evil to an end, otherwise fire

and brimstone will assuredly and justly be rained down upon our

poor cloister."

Still the other maintained, "That the dear sister must err as

regarded the abbess. It might be her chaste zeal that blinded her.

True enough, probably, what she said of the priest; but the worthy

abbess--no, never could she believe that."

Illa.--"Let her have proof then. It was not her custom to

weaken innocence; call her maid, Wolde."

Then as Wolde entered, Sidonia made a sign, and bid her tell the

sub-prioress all that the shameless priest had done.

Ancilla.--"He had asked her for little kisses, praised her

hands and hair, and her beautiful limp, and had sat up close to

her on the bench, then run after her into the kitchen, gave her

money (shows the money), asked again for kisses, then----"

Sidonia screams--

"Hold your tongue; no more, no more; enough, enough!"

At this story, Dorothea Stettin nearly went into convulsions--she

wrung her hands, crying--.

"How is it possible? O heaven, how is it possible?"

Illa.--"There is something more quite possible also; the

hag shall tell you what she saw at the room door of the abbess."

Ancilla.-"When the scandalous priest left her, he went

straight to the abbess, and there was taken with cramps, as she

heard, upon which all the convent ran thither, and she with the

rest. And he was lying stretched out on a bench, like one dead, no

doubt from shame; but the shame soon went off, and then he got up,

and bade them all leave the room. However, good Anna Apenborg did

not choose to go, for she suspected evil. Whereupon he seized her

by the hand, and put her out along with the others. She saw all

this herself, for she was standing in the passage, waiting to

speak to sister Anna. When, behold, she was pushed out, to her

great surprise, in this way by the priest, and they heard the door

bolted inside immediately after."

At this Dorothea Stettin fell upon Sidonia's bed, weeping,

sobbing, and ready to die with grief; but Sidonia bade her not

take on so; for perhaps, after all, the old hag had not told the

truth, at least concerning the dear, worthy abbess; but two

witnesses would be sufficient testimony. Whereupon she bid Wolde

watch for Anna Apenborg from the window, and beckon to her to come

in if she saw her going by.

And scarcely had Wolde stepped to the window, when she laughed and

said--

"Truly, there stands Anna chatting with Agnes Kleist's maid at the

well. Shall I run and call her?"

"Yes," said Sidonia.

In a little while Wolde returned with sister Anna. The girl looked

wildly round at first, stared at the broom-sticks which lay

crosswise under the table, and then asked, with a trembling voice,

what the good sister wanted with her, while she took a seat on a

trunk near the bed.

"My old maid," said Sidonia, "tells me that the reverend chaplain

took you by the hand, and put you out of the abbess's room, after

which he bolted the door. Is this true or not? Speak the whole

truth."

So Anna related the whole story as Wolde had done; but, while

talking, the curious damsel lifted up a corner of the quilt to

peep under the bed, upon which my cat in his little red hose crept

forth again, mewing and rubbing himself against Anna, at which she

gave a shriek of horror and sprang out of the room, down the steps

and into the courtyard, without ever once venturing to look behind

her. And many think that this cat was Sidonia's evil spirit Chim.

But Anna Apenborg saw afterwards a pair of terrible fiery eyes

glaring at her from Sidonia's window; so others said, that must

have been Chim. But we shall hear more of this same cat presently.

Summa.--Sidonia knew well enough what made the girl scream,

but she turned to Dorothea, and said--

"Ah, see how this wickedness has shocked the poor young nun!

Therefore, dear sister, you must, as sub-prioress, make an end of

the scandal, and prohibit this false priest from visiting the

convent; for, indeed, they who permitted him such freedom amongst

the nuns were more to blame for his sins than he himself."

Poor Dorothea groaned forth in answer--

"Alas, alas! why did I ever accept the sub-prioret? For the couple

of sacks of flour and the bit of corn which she got more than the

others, it was not worth while to be plagued to death. It was all

true about the priest. He must be dismissed. But then she loved

peace. How could she right such matters? Oh, that some one would

relieve her of this sub-prioret!"

Illa.--"That can be easily done if you will. Suppose you

ask Anna Apenborg to take it?"

Haec.--"No, no; Anna had not sense enough for that; but if

the dear sister herself would take it, how happy she would feel."

Illa.--"She was too sick, probably going to die; who could

tell?"

Haec.--"No, no; she would pray for her. The dear sister

could not be spared yet. Let her say yes (falling on her neck and

weeping), only let her say yes."

Illa.--"Well, out of love to her she would say yes; and if

the Lord raised her up from this sick bed, order and decorum

should reign again in the convent."

Haec (again embracing her with gratitude).--"No doubt they

would. She knew well that no such pure-minded nun was in the

convent as her dear sister Sidonia."

Illa.--"But, good Dorothea, in order to get rid of the

priest as soon as possible, we had better send the porter

immediately to summon the abbess and the entire sisterhood here,

for you to tender your resignation in their presence."

Haec.--"But sister Sidonia must promise not to complain of

the priest or the abbess to the Prince."

Illa.--"No, no; I can settle the matter quietly, without

laying a complaint before the Prince."

Haec.--"All right, then. Everything, if possible, in peace."

Hereupon Sidonia despatched the porter to the abbess with a

request that she and the whole convent would assemble in

half-an-hour at the refectory, as she had somewhat to communicate.

Meanwhile she instructed Dorothea in what she was to say, so as

not to disgrace the poor abbess before the whole convent.

At the end of the half-hour, the abbess and the entire sisterhood

appeared, but all with anger and mistrust depicted on their

countenances. Sidonia then spake--

"Since ye and your priest refused to pray for me, I have prayed

for myself, and the Lord hath heard me in my weakness, and made me

strong enough to listen to the request of this good sister,

Dorothea, and promise to fulfil it. Speak, sister Dorothea, what

was your prayer?"

So Dorothea advanced, weeping and wringing her hands--

"Ah, God! she could no longer be sub-prioress. She loved peace too

much. But there were bad doings in the convent--she would say no

more--only they must end. Therefore she had earnestly prayed her

dear sister Sidonia to relieve her from the duties of office, and

become sub-prioress in her stead."

Here she loosed the veil, which differed from the others, by

having a key embroidered in gold thereon--the abbess had two keys

on her veil--and bound it on Sidonia, who had by this time risen

from bed, taking Sidonia's veil for herself. Then leading the

fatal sorceress forward, she said--

"Good mother and dear sisters--behold your sub-prioress!"

Thereupon the abbess and the whole convent remained quite mute, so

great was their horror.

Then Sidonia asked--

"Have they aught to say against it? If so, let them speak."

But they all remained silent and trembling, till at last the

abbess murmured--

"Is this done with your free-will, Dorothea?"

"Ah, yes, yes, truly," she answered. "I told you before with what

earnest prayers I besought the dear sister to release me. God be

thanked she has consented at last. Who can keep order and decorum

so well throughout the convent?"

Then the abbess spoke again--

"Sister Sidonia, I have no opposition to make, as you know full

well. So, if the Prince, and the sheriff, our worthy

superintendent, consent, you shall be sub-prioress. Yet first you

must render an account of your strange doings this past night, for

things were seen and heard in your chamber which could not have

been accomplished without the help of the great enemy himself."

Hereat Sidonia laughed as if she would die. She would tell them

the whole trick. They all knew what a trouble to the convent was

this Anna Apenborg from her curiosity--not once or twice, but ten

times a day, running in and out with her chat and gossip. She had

tried all means to prevent her, but in vain. Even in the middle of

her prayers, the said Anna would come in to tell her what one

sister was cooking, and another getting, or some follies even

quite unfit for chaste ears. And that last night being very sick,

she sent for the priest, upon which she heard Anna calling out

from the window to the porter, "Will he come? will he come?"

Item, she had then crept down to listen at the door. So

after the priest went, notwithstanding all her weakness, she

(Sidonia) determined to give her a good fright, and thus prevent

her from spying and listening any more. Then she called Wolde, and

bid her dance, while she muttered some words out of the

cookery-book. But here Anna called out, "It is not true; there

were three danced. Where is the carl with the deep bass

voice? Who could this be at that midnight hour, but the devil

bodily himself?"

At this, Sidonia laughed louder than before. It was her cat--her

own cat, who was springing about the room, because for divers

reasons she had put little red hose on him. On this she stoops

under the bed, seizes my cat by the leg, who howls (that was the

deep bass voice), and flings him into the middle of the room,

where all the nuns, when they beheld his strange jumps and springs

in the little hose, burst out into loud laughter, in which the

abbess herself could not refrain from joining. So as there was no

evidence against Sidonia, and Anna Apenborg was truly held of all

as a most troublesome chatterbox and spy, the inquiry ended. And

with somewhat more friendliness, putting the best face on a bad

matter, they accepted Sidonia for their sub-prioress.

CHAPTER V.

How Sidonia wounds Ambrosia von Guntersberg with an axe,

because she purposed to marry--And prays the convent porter,

Matthias Winterfeld, to death--For these, and other causes, the

reverend chaplain refuses to shrive the sorceress, and denounces

her publicly from the altar.

Sidonia's first act, as may easily be imagined, was to dismiss the

priest; and for this purpose she wrote him a letter, saying that

he must never more presume to set foot within the cloister, for if

old ice-grey mothers were not safe from him, how could she and the

other maidens hope to escape? If he disobeyed her orders, she

would summon him before the princely consistorium, where strange

things might be told of him.

So the reverend David consented right willingly, and never saw the

nuns except on Sundays in the chapel, but Sidonia herself never

appeared in the nuns' choir. She gave Dorothea many excellent and

convincing reasons for her absence. (But in my opinion, it was

caused by hate and abhorrence of the sacrament and the holy Word

of God; for such are a torment and a torture to the children of

the devil, even as the works of the devil are an abomination to

the children of God.)

When, however, the report came, that the reverend David was indeed

betrothed to Barbara Bamberg, Sidonia presented herself once in

the choir, kneeled down, and was heard to murmur, "Wed if thou

wilt, that I cannot hinder; but a child thou shalt never hold at

the font!" And truly was the evil curse fulfilled.

Meanwhile the fear and the dread of her increased daily in the

convent, for besides old Wolde, two other horrible hags were

observed frequently going in and out of her apartments--true

children of Satan, as one might see by their red, glowing eyes.

With these she practised many horrible sorceries, sometimes

quarrelled with them, however, and beat them out with the

broom-stick; but they always came back again, and were as well

received as ever.

Then she had strifes and disputes with every one who approached

her, and was notorious through all the courts of justice for her

wrangling and fighting, in particular with her brother's son, Otto

of Stramehl, for she sued him for an alimentum pension, and

also demanded that the rents of her two farm-houses in Zachow

should be paid her, according to the sum to which they must have

accumulated during the last fifty years. But he answered, she

should have no money; why did she not live at her farm-houses? He

knew nothing of the rents, the whole matter was past and

forgotten, and she had no claim now on him, and so every month she

wrangled in the courts about this business. Item, she

fought with Preslar of Buslar, because, being a feudal vassal of

the Borks', she required him to kiss her hand, which he refused;

then her dog having strayed into his house, she accused him of

having stolen it. Item, she fought with the maid who acted

as cook in the convent kitchen, and said she never got a morsel

fit to eat. And the said maid (I forget her name now) having

salted the fish too much one day, she ran after her with a

broom-stick--once, indeed, beat her so severely, that she was lame

her life long after.

But worse than the fish-salting was the white kerchief which the

maid wore. For people, she said, might take her at a distance to

be one of the honourable convent ladies, therefore she must wear a

coloured one. This the maid would not do, so she was soon brought

to an untimely end also, along with all others who displeased her.

These things, and many more, came out upon her trial, but for

divers reasons I must pass them over. All her notes, messages, and

letters, she entrusted to the porter, Matthias Winterfeld, who was

often sent, may be five times a week, by her to Stargard. But he

dared not remonstrate, or she would have struck him with the

broom-stick.

However, all this is nothing in comparison with the way she

treated the unfortunate nuns. The younger and prettier they were,

so much the more she boxed, beat, and martyred them, even striking

them with the broom-stick. And if they ever smiled or seemed happy

talking to one another, she abused and reviled them, calling them

idle wantons, who thought of nothing but matrimony. None were

permitted outside the convent gates, not even to visit their

parents: they should not be flying back with their crumbs of

gossip about brides and weddings, forsooth, and such-like improper

thoughts. Neither should they go to the annual fair. She would go

herself and buy everything for them she thought needful, only let

them give her the gold.

And out of deadly fear the poor maidens bore this tyranny long

while silently; even the abbess feared to complain, so that

Sidonia soon usurped the entire government of the convent.

But the powder-mill broke out at last into vivid flames, as I

shall narrate here. It was on this wise:--Amongst the novices was

one beautiful young maiden, Ambrosia von Guntersberg by name. She

was fifth daughter of old Ambrosius of Falkenwald, a little town

near Jacobshagen. One day a young nobleman called Ewald von

Mellenthin beheld her in her cloister habit. Think you he forgot

her? No, he can never forget the maiden! One, two weeks pass over,

but she has sunk deeper and deeper into his heart; at last he rose

up and went to Falkenwald to her father, Ambrosius, asking her

hand in honourable marriage.

Now, the old man was well pleased, for he was poor, and had five

daughters; so he bid the young noble write a letter to his

daughter Ambrosia, which he would inclose in one from himself to

her. But no answer arrived from the maiden (we may guess why, for

Sidonia opened and read all the letters that came to the convent,

before they were handed to their owners. Those that displeased her

she burned; no doubt, therefore, the love-letter was the first in

the flames). But the young noble grew impatient for an answer, and

resolved to ride to Marienfliess. So he ties his good horse to a

cross in the churchyard, walks straight up to the convent, and

rings the bell. Immediately the old porter, Matthias, opened to

him, with his hands covered with blood (for he was killing a fat

ox for the nuns, close by); whereupon the noble lord prayed to

speak a few words to the young novice Ambrosia von Guntersberg, at

the grating; and in a little time the beautiful maiden appeared,

tripping along the convent court (but Sidonia is before her).

Ambrosia advanced modestly to the grating, and asked the handsome

knight, "What was his pleasure?" who answered, "Since I beheld you

in Guntersberg, dearest lady, my heart has been wholly yours; and

when I saw how diligently and cheerfully you ruled your father's

house during his sickness, I resolved to take you for my wife, if

such were possible; for I need a good and prudent spouse at my

castle of Lienke, and methinks no better or more beautiful could

be found than yourself. Therefore I obtained your father's

permission to open the matter to you in writing, and he inclosed

my letter in one of his own; but you have neither answered one nor

the other. Whereupon, in my impatience, I saddled my good horse,

and rode over here to have an answer at once from your own

beautiful lips."

When Sidonia heard this, she grew black in the face with

rage--"What! in her presence, before her very face, to dare to

hold such language to a young maiden--a mere child--who knew

nothing at all of what marriage meant. He must pack off this

instant, or the devil himself should turn him out of the

cloister."

Meanwhile the young maiden took heart (for the handsome knight

pleased her), and said, "Gracious Lady Prioress (Sidonia made them

all call her Gracious Lady, as if she were a born princess), I am

no more a child, as you say, and I know very well what marriage

means."

This boldness made the other so wroth that she screamed--"Wait! I

will teach you what marriage is;" and she sprang on her to box

her. But Ambrosia rushed through the side-door out into the court,

Sidonia following; however, not being able to reach her, she

seized up the axe with which the porter had been killing the ox,

and flung it after her, wounding the poor maiden so in the foot

that the red blood poured down over her white stockings, while the

young lover, who could not break the grating, screamed and stamped

for rage and despair. By the good mercy of God the wound was only

slight, still the fair novice fell to the ground; but seeing

Sidonia rushing at her again with the large butcher's knife which

the porter had been using, she sprang up and ran to the grating,

crying out to the noble, "Save me! save me!"

And at her screams all the nuns threw up their windows, right and

left, over the courtyard; but finding the young knight could not

help her, she ran to the old porter, still screaming, "Save me!

save me! she is going to murder me!"

Now the fellow was glad enough to be revenged on Sidonia, for she

had sent him running to Stargard for her late the night before,

and the moment the ox was to be quartered, he was to be off there

again at her command; so he rushed at the vile witch, and seizing

her up like a bundle of old rags, pitched her against the wall

with all his force, adding a right hearty curse; and there she lay

quaking like an old cat, while the handsome young noble laughed

loud from the grating.

But she was up again soon, shook her dry, withered fist at the

porter, and cried, "Ha! thou insolent churl, I will pray thee to

death for this!"

Whereupon she went off to her room, and locked herself up there,

while the fair Ambrosia ran to the grating, and stretching out her

little hands through the bars, exclaimed, "I am yours, dear

knight; oh, take me away from this horrible hell!"

This rejoiced my young noble heartily, and he kissed the little

hands and lamented over her foot--"And was it much hurt? She must

lift it up, and show him if the wound was deep."

So she raised up the dainty foot a little bit, and then saw that

her whole shoe was full of blood; but the old porter, who came by

just then, comforted the handsome youth, and told him he would

stop the blood directly, for the wound was but a trifle. Whereupon

he laid a couple of straws over it, murmured some words, and

behold, in a moment, the blood is staunched! Then the fair novice

thanked him courteously, and prayed him to unlock the wicket, for

she would go and stay a couple of hours with the miller's wife,

while this young noble, to whom she had plighted love and troth,

returned to her father's for a carriage to bring her home. After

what had passed now, never more would she enter the cloister.

But what happened? Scarcely had the good old porter unfastened the

grating, and the young knight taken the fair girl in his arms,

kissing her and pressing her to his heart (well Sidonia did not

see him), when Matthias screamed out, "My God, what ails me?" and

fell flat on the ground. At this the young knight left his bride,

and flew to raise him up. "What could ail him?" But the poor old

man can hardly speak, his eyes are turned in his head, and he

gasped, "It was as if a man were sitting inside his breast, and

crushing him to death. Oh, he could not breathe--his ribs were

breaking!"

The alarmed young noble then helped the poor creature to reach his

room, which lay close by the wicket; and having laid him on the

bed in care of his wife, and recommended him to the mercy of God,

he returned to his own fair bride, to carry her off from this

murder-hole, and place her in safety with the miller's wife. I may

as well mention here that he and the beautiful Ambrosia were

wedded in due time, and lived long in peace and happiness, blessed

with many lovely children; for all the evil which Sidonia tried to

bring upon them, as we shall hear, came to nought, through the

mercy of the great God.

But to return to the porter-on the third day he died; and during

that time, day and night, Sidonia prayed, and was never seen but

once. This was at the dividing of the salmon, when she threw up

her window, and shaking her withered clenched hand at them, and

her long white locks, threatened the nuns on their peril to touch

the tail-piece-the tail-piece was hers.

A general horror pervaded the convent now, in truth, when the

death of the porter was known. Anna Apenborg shut herself up,

trembling, in her cell, and even good Dorothea began somewhat to

doubt the virtues of the vile sorceress; for the corpse had a

strange and unnatural appearance, so that it was horrible to look

upon, by which signs it was easy to perceive that he had been

prayed to death, as the fearful night-hag had threatened.

I must notify these symptoms, for the corpses of many of Sidonia's

victims presented the same appearances; as the corpse of the

reverend David--item, Joachim Wedeln of

Cremzow--item/, Doctor Schwalenberg of Stargard, and Duke

Philip II., and lastly, the abbess, Magdalena von Petersdorf.

Whether her brother's son, Otto of Stramehl, whom she was

suspected also of having prayed to death, presented the like, I

cannot say with certainty. At this same time also his princely

Grace Duke Bogislaff XIII. expired, many say bewitched to death;

but of this I have no proof, as the body had quite a natural

aspect after death. Still he had just arranged to journey to

Marienfliess himself, and turn out Sidonia, in consequence of the

accusations of Sheriff Sparling and the convent chaplain, so that

his sudden death looks suspicious; however, as the medicus,

Dr. Nicolaus Schulz, pronounced, "Quod ex ramis venae portae Epatis

et lienis exporrectis, iste adustus sanguis eo prosiliiset" (for

he died by throwing up a black matter like his brothers); and

further, as the manikin on the three-legged hare did not appear

this time at the castle, I shall not lay the murder on Sidonia, to

increase her terrible burden at the last day, though I have my own

thoughts upon the matter.

Summa.-My gracious Prince died suddenly. Alas, woe!

exactly like all his brothers; he was just sixty-one years old,

seven months, and fifteen days, and a more God-fearing prince

never sat on a throne. But my grief over the fate of this great

Pomeranian house has carried me away from the corpse of the old

porter. The appearances were these:--

1. The face brown, green, and yellow, particularly about the

musculi frontales et temporales.

2. The musculi pectorales so swelled, and the cartilago

ensiformis so singularly raised, that the chest of the corpse

touched the mouth.

3. From the patella of the left leg to the malleolus

externus of the foot, all brown, green, and yellow, blended

together.

And on examination of the said corpse, Dr. Kukuck of Stargard

affirmed and was ready to swear, that no one tittle of the

signature of Satan was wanting thereupon.

Summa.--The poor carl was buried with great mourning on the

following Friday; and the reverend David preached a sermon

thereupon, in which he plainly spoke of his strange and unnatural

death, so that every one knew well whom he suspected. My hag heard

of this instantly, and therefore determined to attend the

sacrament on the following Sunday; for this end she despatched

Wolde to the priest, bidding her tell him she had a great desire

to attend the holy rite, and would go to confession that day after

noon. At this horrid blasphemy a cold shudder fell upon the priest

(and I trust every Christian man will feel the like as he reads

this), for he now saw through her motive clearly, how she wanted

to blind the eyes of the people as to the death of the porter, by

this mockery of the holiest rites of religion. Besides, amongst

the horrible abominations practised by witches, it is well known

that having received the sacred bread, they privately take the

same again from their mouth and feed their familiar therewith. And

one day when the convent was quite still, Anna Apenborg, having

crept down to peep through the key-hole of the refectory door, saw

enough to confirm this general belief.

No wonder then if the good priest stood long silent from horror;

then he spake--"Tell the prioress it is well;" but when Wolde was

gone, he threw himself upon his knees in his closet before God,

and wrestled long in prayer, with tears and wringing of hands,

that He would open to him what was his path of duty.

About noon he became more composed, through the great mercy of the

Lord; and bid his wife, Barbara, come to him, with whom he had

lived now a year and a half in perfect joy, though without

children. To her he disclosed the proposition of the horrible

sorceress, and afterwards spake thus:--

"And because, dear Barbara, after earnest prayer to God, I have

come to the resolution neither to shrive nor to give the Lord's

body to this daughter accursed of hell, do not be surprised if a

like death awaits me as happened to the porter, Matthias. When I

die, therefore, dear wife, take thee another spouse and bear

children. 'For the woman,' says the Scripture, 'shall be blessed

through childbearing, so as she continues in faith, and love, and

in holiness with sobriety' (I Tim. ii.). Thus thou wilt soon

forget me."

But the poor wife wept, and besought him to turn from his resolve,

and not incur the vengeance of Sidonia. So he answered, "Weep not,

or our parting will be more bitter; this poor flesh and blood is

weak enough, still never will I blaspheme the holy rite of our

Church, and 'cast pearls before swine' (Matt. vii.). And wherefore

weep? At the last day they would meet again, to smile for ever in

an eternity of joy. But could he hope for this if he were an

unfaithful steward of the mysteries of God? No; but it was

written, 'Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is thy

sting? Hell, where is thy victory? God be thanked who giveth us

the victory through Christ our Lord' (I Cor. xv.). In God

therefore he trusted, and in His strength would go now to the

confessional."

She must let him go; the sexton would soon ring the bell, and he

wished to pray some time alone in the church. Her tears had again

disturbed his spirit, and made him weak. But he would use the holy

keys of his office, which his Saviour had entrusted to him, to His

glory alone, even if this accursed sorceress were to bring him to

the grave for it. If the Lord will, He could protect him, but he

would still do his duty. Will she not let him go now, that he may

pray?

And when she unwound her arms, he took her again in his, kissed

her, sobbed, and wept; then tearing himself away, went out into

the church by the garden entrance.

Then the poor wife flung herself on a seat, weeping and praying,

but in a little while in came Dorothea Stettin, saying, "That she

was going to confession, and had no small silver for the

offertory. Could she give her change of a dollar?"

Then she asked about the other's grief; and having heard the

cause, promised to go to the priest herself, and beseech him not

to break the staff "Woe" over Sidonia. She went therefore

instantly to the church, and found him on his knees praying behind

the altar. Whereupon she entreated him, after her fashion, not to

break the blessed peace--peace above all things.

Meanwhile the sexton rung the bell, and Sidonia entered, sweeping

the nave of the church to the altar, followed by seven or eight

nuns. But when she beheld Dorothea come out at one side, and the

priest at the other, and that not another soul had been in the

church, she laughed aloud mockingly, and clapped her hands--"Ha!

the pious priest, would he tell them now what he and Dorothea were

doing behind the altar? The sisters were all witnesses how this

shameless parson conducted himself." Though she spoke this quite

loud for every one to hear, yet not one of the nuns made answer,

but stood trembling like doves who see the falcon ready to pounce

upon them. Yea, even as Dorothea came down the altar steps to take

her place in the choir, my hag laughed loud again like Satan, and

cried, "Ah! the chaste virgin! who meetest the priest behind the

altar! Thou shameless wanton, the prioress shall teach thee fitter

behaviour soon!"

Poor Dorothea turned quite pale with fright, and began--"Ah! dear

sister, only listen!"

But the dragon snapped at her, with--"Dear sister, forsooth!

What!--was she to bear this insolence? Let her know that the

gracious Lady Prioress was not to be talked to as 'dear sister '!"

Here the organ struck up the confession hymn; and the whole

congregation being assembled in the church, Sidonia and the seven

nuns ascended the steps of the altar, bowed to the priest, and

then took their seats, whereupon the organ ceased playing.

After a brief silence, the poor minister sighed heavily, and then

spake--"Sidonia, after all that has been stated concerning you,

particularly with regard to the death of the convent porter within

these last few days, I cannot, as a faithful servant of God, give

you either absolution or the holy rite of the Lord's Supper, until

you clear yourself from such imputations before a princely

consistorium."

At this my hag laughed loud from the altar, crying, "Eh?--that was

a strange story. What had she done to the convent porter?"

Ille.--"Prayed him to death, as every one believed, and his

appearance proved."

Haec (still laughing).--"He must have lost his senses. Let

him go home and bind asses' milk upon his temples; he would soon

be better."

Ille.--"She should remember where and what she spoke. Had

she not herself said, she would pray the porter to death?"

Haec (laughing yet louder).--"Oh! in truth, his little bit

of mother-wit was quite gone. When and where had it been ever

heard that one person could pray another to death? Then they might

pray them to life again. Shall she try it with the porter?"

Ille.--"Why then had she threatened it?"

Haec (still laughing).--"Ah! poor man! she saw now he was

quite foolish. Why had she threatened? Why, in anger, of course,

because the vile churl had flung her against the wall. Had he

never heard the poor people say to each other, 'May the devil take

you;' but if one happened to die soon after, did people really

think the devil had taken him? Why, he was as superstitious as an

old spinning-wife."

Ille.--"She had heard his resolve. This was no place to

argue with her; therefore she might go her ways, for he would

verily not give her absolution."

So Sidonia rose up raging from the confessional, clenched her

hand, and screamed out in the still church, so that all the people

shuddered with horror--"Ye are all my witnesses that this

worthless priest has denied me absolution, because, forsooth, he

says I killed the convent porter. Ha! ha! ha! Where is it said in

your Scriptures that one man can pray another to death? But the

licentiousness of the vile priest has turned his brain, and he

wallows in all most senseless superstitions. Did he not run after

my old hag of a servant, as I myself saw; and this was not enough,

but he must take Dorothea Stettin (the hypocritical wanton) behind

the altar alone; and because I and these seven maidens discovered

his iniquity, he refuses me the rites, and must have me before a

princely consistorium to revenge himself. But wait, priest, I will

drag the sheep's clothing from thee. Wait, thou shalt yet repent

this bitterly!"

After the horrible sorceress had so blasphemed, she departed as

quickly as possible from the church, muttering to herself. The

congregation remained silent from fear and terror; and the poor

priest, who seemed more dead than alive, prayed the sexton to

fetch him a cup of water, which he drank; and then being in some

degree recovered, he stepped forth, and addressed the congregation

thus:--

"Dear brethren and friends, after what ye have just heard, ye will

not wonder if I am unable to receive confessions this day, or to

administer the holy communion. Ye all know Dorothea Stettin,

neither is my character unknown to you; therefore remember the

words of St. Peter, 'The devil goeth about as a roaring lion,

seeking whom he may devour.' But we will resist him, steadfast in

the faith. Meet me, then, tomorrow here at the altar, and ye shall

hear my justification. After which, I will shrive those who desire

to be partakers of the holy sacrament."

And on the following morning, the holy minister of God preached

from Matthew v. 11--"Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and

persecute you, and say all manner of evil falsely against you, for

My sake; be glad and comforted, for ye shall be well recompensed

in heaven." And in this powerful sermon he drew a picture of

Sidonia from her youth up; so that many trembled for him when they

remembered her power, though they glorified God for the mighty

zeal and courage that burned in his words. But when Sidonia heard

of this sermon, she became almost frantic from rage.

CHAPTER VI.

Dorothea Stettin falls sick, and how the doctor manages to

bleed her--Item, how Sidonia chases the princely commissioners

into the oak-forest.

Such a public humiliation the good virgin Dorothea Stettin found

it impossible to bear. She fell sick, and repented with bitter

tears of the trust and confidence she had reposed in Sidonia;

finally, the abbess sent off a message to Stargard for the

medicus, Dr. Schwalenberg.

This doctor was an excellent little man, rather past middle age

though still unmarried, upright and honest, but rough as

bean-straw. When he stood by Dorothea's bed and had heard all

particulars of her illness, he bid her put out her hand, that he

might feel her pulse. "No, no;" she answered, "that could she

never do; never in her life had a male creature felt her pulse."

At this my doctor laughed right merrily, and all the nuns who

stood round, and Sidonia's old maid, Wolde, laughed likewise; but

at last he persuaded Dorothea to stretch out her hand.

"I must bleed her," said the doctor. "This is febris

putrida; therefore was her thirst so great: she must strip her

arm till he bleed her." But no one can persuade her to this--strip

her arm! no, never could she do it; she would die first: if the

doctor could do nothing else, he may go his ways.

Now the doctor grew angry. Such a cursed fool of a woman he had

never come across in his life; if she did not strip her arm

instantly, he would do it by force. But Dorothea is inflexible;

say what he would, she would strip her arm for no man!

Even the abbess and the sisterhood tried to persuade her.

"Would she not do it for her health's sake; or, at least, for the

sake of peace?"

They were all here standing round her, but all in vain. At last

the doctor, half-laughing, half-cursing, said--

"He would bleed her in the foot. Would that do?"

"Yes, she would consent to that; but the doctor must leave the

room while she was getting ready."

So my doctor went out, but on entering again found her sitting on

the bed, dressed in her full convent robes, her head upon Anna

Apenborg's shoulder, and her foot upon a stool. As the foot,

however, was covered with a stocking, the doctor began to scold.

"What was the stocking for? Let him take off the stocking. Was she

making a fool of him? He advised her not to try it."

"No," Dorothea answered, "never would she strip her foot for him.

Die she would if die she must, but that she could never do! If he

could not bleed her through the stocking, he may go his ways."

Summa.--As neither prayers nor threatening were of any

avail, the doctor, in truth, had to bleed her through the

stocking; and scarcely had he finished, when Sidonia sent, saying.

"That she, too, was ill, and wished to be bled."

And there lay my hag alone, in bed, as the doctor entered. She was

right friendly.

"And was it indeed true, that absurd fool Dorothea did not choose

to be bled? Now he saw himself what a set of simpletons she had to

deal with in the convent. No wonder that they all blackened her

and belied her. She was sick from very disgust at such malice and

absurdity. Ah, she regretted now not having married when she had

the opportunity; it would have been better, and she had many

offers. But she always feared she was too poor. However, her

fortune was now excellent, for her sister had died without

children, and left her everything--a very large inheritance, as

she heard. But the dear doctor must taste her beer; she had tapped

some of the best, and there was a fresh can of it on the table."

But my doctor was too cunning not to see what she was driving at;

besides, he had heard of her beer-brewing, so he answered--

"He never drank beer; but what ailed her?"

"Ah, she didn't know herself, but she had a trembling in all her

limbs. Would he not take a glass of mead, or even water? Her old

servant should bring it to him."

"No. Let her just put out her hand for him to feel her pulse."

Instantly she stretched forth, not her hand alone, but her whole

naked, dry, and yellow arm from the bed. Whereupon the doctor

spoke--

"Eh? What should I bleed you for? The pulse is all right. In fact,

old people never should be bled without serious cause; for at

seventy or so, mind ye, every drop is worth a groschen."

"What!" exclaimed Sidonia, starting up; "what the devil, do ye

think I am seventy? Why, I am hardly fifty yet."

"Seventy or fifty," answered the doctor, "it is all much the same

with you women-folk."

"To the devil with you, rude churl!" screamed Sidonia. "If you

will not bleed me, I'll find another who will. Seventy indeed! So

rude a knave is not in the land!"

But my doctor goes away laughing; and as the ducal commissioners

had arrived to try Sidonia's case, with the convent chaplain, he

went down to meet them at Sheriff Sparling's, and these were the

commissioners:--

1. Christian Ludeck, state prosecutor; a brother of the priest's.

2. Johann Wedel of Cremzow.

3. Eggert Sparling, sheriff of Marienfliess.

4. Jobst Bork, governor of Saatzig.

This Jobst was son to that upright Marcus whose wife, Clara von

Dewitz, Sidonia had so miserably destroyed. For his good father's

sake, long since dead, their Graces of Stettin had continued him

in the government of Saatzig, for he walked in his father's steps,

only he was slow of speech; but he had a lovely daughter, yet more

praiseworthy than her grandmother, Clara of blessed memory, of

whom we shall hear more anon.

Summa.--The doctor found all the commissioners assembled in

the sheriff's parlour. Item, Anna Apenborg and the abbess

as witnesses, who deposed to all the circumstances which I have

heretofore related; also, the abbess set forth the prayer of the

sick Dorothea Stettin, that she might be restored to the

sub-prioret out of which the false Sidonia had wickedly talked

her, and now for thanks gave her insolent contempt and mocking

sneers.

Anna Apenborg further deposed, that, looking through the key-hole

of the refectory door one day, she spied the wicked witch boring a

hole in the wall; in this she placed a tun-dish, and immediately

after, a rich stream of cow's milk flowed down into a basin which

Sidonia held beneath, and that same day the best cow in the

convent stopped giving milk, and had never given one drop since.

And because the dairymaid, Trina Pantels, said openly this was

witchcraft, and accused Sidonia and the old hag Wolde of being

evil witches--for she was not a girl to hold her tongue, not

she--her knee swelled up to the size of a man's head, and day and

night she screamed for agony, until another old witch that visited

Sidonia, Lena of Uchtenhagen, for six pounds of wool, gave her a

plaster of honey and meal to put on the knee, and what should be

drawn out of the swelling, but quantities of pins and needles; and

how could this have been, but by Sidonia's witchcraft? [Footnote:

However improbable such accusations may seem, numbers of the like,

some even still more extraordinary, may be found in the witch

trials of that age, by any one who takes the trouble of referring

to them.]

Many witnesses could prove this fact; for Tewes Barth, Dinnies

Koch, and old Fritz were by, when the plaster was taken off.

Then Sheriff Sparling deposed, that having smothered his bees

lately, he sent a pot of pure honey to each of the nuns, as was

his custom; but Sidonia scolded, and said her pot was not large

enough, and abused him in a cruel manner about his stinginess in

not sending her more. So, some days after, as he was riding

quietly home to his house, across the convent court, suddenly the

whole ground before him became covered with the shadows of

bee-hives, and little shadows like bees went in and out, and

wheeled about just as real bees do. Whereupon, he looked in every

direction for the hives, for no shadows can be without a body, but

not a hive nor a bee was in the whole place round; but he heard a

peal of mocking laughter, and, on looking up, there was the wicked

witch looking out at him from a window, and she called out--

"Ho! sir sheriff, when you smother bees again, send me more honey.

A couple of pounds of the best--good weight!"

And this he did to have peace for the future.

Now the commissioners noted all this down diligently; but the

state prosecutor shook his head, and asked the abbess--

"Wherefore she had not long ago brought this vile witch before the

princely court?"

To which she answered, sighing--.

"What would that help? She had already tasted the vengeance of the

wicked sorceress, and feared to taste it again. Well, night and

day had she cried to God to free the convent from this she-devil,

and often resolved to unfold the whole Satan's work to his

Highness, though her own life would be perilled surely by so

doing. But she was ready, as a faithful mother of the convent, to

lay it down for her children, if, indeed, that could save them.

But how would her death help these poor young virgins? For

assuredly the moment Sidonia had brought her to a cruel end, she

would make herself abbess by force, and this was such a dread to

the sorrowing virgins, that they themselves entreated her to keep

silence and be patient, waiting for the mercy of God to help them.

For truly the power of this accursed sorceress was as great as her

wickedness."

Here answered Dr Schwalenberg--

"This power can soon be broken; he knew many receipts out of

Albertus Magnus, Raimundus Lallus, Theophrastus, Paracelsus, &c.,

against sorcery and evil witches."

This was a glad hearing to the state prosecutor, and he answered

with a joyful mien and voice--

"Marry, doctor, if you know how to get hold of this evil hag, do

it at once; we shall then bind her arms, so that she can make no

signs to hurt us, and clap a pitch-plaster on her mouth, to stop

the said mouth from calling the devil to her help; after which, I

can easily bring her with me to Stettin, and answer for all

proceedings to his Grace. Probably she is a-bed still; go back,

and pretend that, upon reflection, you think it will be better to

bleed her. Then, when you have hold of her arm, call in the

fellows, whom the sheriff will, I am sure, allow to accompany

you."

"Yes, yes," cried the sheriff, "take twenty of my men with you, my

good doctor, if you will."

"Well, then," resumed the state prosecutor, "let them rush in,

bind the dragon, clap the pitch-plaster on her mouth, and she is

ours in spite of all the devils."

"Right, all right," cried the doctor; "never fear but I'll pay her

for her matrimonial designs upon me."

And he began to prepare the plaster with some pitch he got from a

cobbler, when suddenly the state prosecutor screamed out--

"Merciful God! see there! Look at the shadow of a toad creeping

over my paper, whereon I move my hand!"

He springs up--wipes, wipes, wipes, but in vain; the unclean

shadow is there still, and crawls over the paper, though never a

toad is to be seen.

What a commotion of horror this Satan's work caused amongst the

bystanders, can be easily imagined. All stood up and looked at the

toad-shadow, when the abbess screamed out, "Merciful God! look

there! look there! The whole floor is covered with toad-shadows!"

Hereupon all the women-folk ran screaming from the room, but

screamed yet louder when they reached the door, and met there

Sidonia and her cat face to face. Round they all wheeled again,

rushed to the back-door, out into the yard, over the pond, and

into the oak-wood, without daring once to look behind them. But

the men remained, for the doctor said bravely, "Wait now, good

friends, patience, she can do us no harm;" and he murmured some

words.

But just as they all made the sign of the cross, and silently put

up a prayer to God, and gathered up their legs on the benches, so

that the unclean shadows might not crawl upon their boots, the

horrible hag appeared at the window, and her cat in his little red

hose clambered up on the sill, mewing and crying (and I think

myself that this cat was her spirit Chim, whom she had sent first

to the sheriff's house to hear what was going on; for how could

she have known it?).

Summa.--She laid one hand upon the window, the better to

look in, and clenching the other, shook it at them, crying out,

"Wait, ye accursed peasant boors, I, too, will judge ye for your

sins!" But seeing her cousin, Jobst Bork, present, she screamed

yet louder--"Eh! thou thick ploughman, hath the devil brought thee

here too? Art thou not ashamed to accuse thy own kinswoman? Wait,

I will give thee something to make thee remember our

relationship!"

And as she began to murmur some words, and spat out before them

all, the state prosecutor jumped up and rushed out after the

women, and Sheriff Sparling rushed out after him, and they never

stopped or stayed till both reached the oak-wood.

But Jobst said calmly, "Cousin, be reasonable; it is my duty!" My

doctor, however, wanted to pay her off for the marriage business,

so he seized a whip with which Sheriff Sparling had been thrashing

a boor, and hurrying out, cried, "I will make her reasonable! Thou

old hag of hell! here is the fit marriage for thee!" and so whack,

whack upon her thin, withered shoulders.

Truly the witch cried out now in earnest, but began to spit at the

same time, so that the doctor had given but four strokes when the

whip fell from his hand, and he tottered hither and thither,

crying, "O Lord! O Lord!" At this the sorceress laughed

scornfully, and mocking his movements, cried out likewise, "O

Lord! O Lord!" and when the poor doctor fell down flat upon the

earth like the old porter and others, she began to dance, chanting

her infernal psalm:--

"Also kleien und also kratzen,

Meine Hunde und meine Katzen"

And the cat in his little red hose danced beside her. After which,

she returned laughing to the convent to pray him to death, while

the poor fellow lay groaning and gasping upon the pavement. None

were there to help him, for the state prosecutor and Wedeln had

made off to Stargard as quick as they could go, and Sheriff

Sparling was still hiding in the bush. However, Jobst and the old

dairy-woman helped him up as best he could, and asked what ailed

him? to which he groaned in answer, "There seemed to be some one

sitting inside his breast, and breaking the cartilago

ensiformis horribly asunder. Ah, God! ah, God! he was weak

indeed! his hour was come; let them lay him in a coach, and carry

him directly to Stargard."

This was done as soon as the sheriff could be found; but my

doctor's screams never ceased for three days, after which he gave

up the ghost, and the corpse had the same appearance as that of

the convent porter, which I have already noticed. Thus it happened

with the wise!

But Johann Wedeln fared little better, as we shall see; for after

the doctor's strange death, he said openly everywhere, he would

never rest till the accursed witch was burned. Anna Apenborg

repeated this in the convent, and to Sidonia's maid, upon which

the witch sent for Anna, and asked was the report true? And when

the other did not deny it, she exclaimed, "Now for this shall the

knave be contracted all his life long, and twist his mouth

thus." Whereupon she mimicked how his shoulders would be

drawn up to his ears, and twisted her mouth in horrible

contortions, so that it was a shame and sin to look at her. And

truly this misfortune fell upon him from that hour. And afterwards

when he heard of her wickedness, from Anna Apenborg and others,

and brought her to an account for her sorcery in Stettin, she made

him bite the dust and lie in his coffin ere long, out of malice

and terrible revenge, as we shall hear further on.

CHAPTER VII.

How the assembled Pomeranian princes hold a council over

Sidonia [Footnote: Note of Bogislaff XIV.--I was not present

at this council, for I was holding my espousals at the time. (The

Duke married the Princess Elizabeth von Schleswig Holstein in

1615, but left no heirs.)] and at length cite her to appear at

the ducal court.

When the state prosecutor, Christian Ludeck, reached Stettin with

his appalling news, the Duke was seriously troubled in mind as to

how he could best save the holy sisterhood, and indeed the whole

land, from the terrible Satanic power and murderous malice of this

cruel sorceress. So he summoned all the princes of his family to a

convocation on a certain day, at Old Stettin; but when they

arrived, his Grace was absent, for he had gone to Coblentz on some

business, and here was the matter.

His steward, Jeremias Schroter, was an unworthy agent, as his

Grace heard; and when the time came for the poor people to get

their oats or corn, he sent round and made them all give their

receipts first, saying "They should have their corn after;" but

when they went to bring it home, he beat them, and asked what they

meant--he had their receipts: they were cheats, and should get no

more corn from him.

Now, a poor parson's widow came up all the way to Stettin, to

complain of the steward to his Highness, who was shocked at such

knavery, and determined to go down himself to Coblentz and make

inquiries; for the steward swore that the people were liars, and

had defamed him.

The Duke therefore bid the chancellor, Martin Chemnitz, entertain

his princely brothers until his return, which would not be before

evening, and to show them his painting and sculpture galleries,

and whatever else in the castle might please them. And now to show

the good heart of his Grace, I must mention that, seeing the poor

widow was tired with her six miles' walk, he bid her get up beside

the coachman on the box of his carriage, and he would drive her

himself to her own place.

Meanwhile the young princes arrived, and the court marshal, the

chancellor, the aforesaid state prosecutor, and other high

officials, received them on behalf of his Highness. Doctor Cramer,

vice-superintendens, my esteemed father-in-law, was also

present--item, Doctor Constantius Oesler.

They were first led into the picture-gallery by the chancellor

(although Duke George cared little about such matters), where

there was a costly collection of paintings by Perugino, Raphael,

Titian, Bellini, &c.--item, statues, vases, coins, and

medals, all of which his Grace had brought lately from Italy. Here

also there was a large book, covered with crimson velvet, lying

open, in which his Grace the Duke had written down many extracts

from the sermons of Doctor Cramer and Mag. Reutzio, with marginal

Latin notes of his own; for the Duke had a table in his oratory or

closet in St. Mary's Church, that he might write down what pleased

him, and a Greek and Latin Bible laid thereon. This book was,

therefore, a right pleasing sight to Doctor Cramer, who stood and

read his own sermons over again with great relish, while the

others examined the paintings.

When they grew weary, the chancellor conducted them to the

library, which contained ten thousand books. But Duke Ulrich said,

"Marry, dear brothers, what the devil is there to see here? Let us

rather go down to the stables, and examine my new Danish horses;

then come up to my quarters (for his Grace lived with his brother,

Duke Philip), and have a good Pomeranian carouse to pass away the

time; for as to these fooleries, which have cost our good brother

such a mint of money, I would not give a dollar for them all."

So they ran down the steps leading to the stables; but first he

brought them into the hunting-hall, belonging to his quarter,

which was decorated, and covered all along the walls with

hunting-horns, rifles, cross-bows, and hunting-knives and pouches,

with the horns of all sorts of animals killed in the chase.

Whereupon Duke George said, "He was content to remain here--the

horses he could see on the morrow."

So he sat down by the wine-flask, which lay there already upon the

table; and while Duke Ulrich was trying to persuade him to come to

the stables, saying he could have the wine-flask after, the door

opened, and his Highness Duke Philip unexpectedly entered the

apartment.

He embraced all his dear brothers, and then, turning to Duke

Francis, the bishop, said, "Tell me, dear Fra (so he always called

him, for his Grace spoke Italian and Latin like German), is there

any hope of a christening at thy castle? Oh, say yes, and I will

give thee a duchy for my godchild."

But Bishop Francis answered mournfully, "No!" Then Duke Philip

turned to another--"How say you, brother--mayhap there is hope of

an heir to Wolgast?"

"None, alas!" was the answer.

"No, no!" exclaimed the Duke, "and there is no hope for me

either--none!" Then he walked up and down the hall in great

agitation, at last stopped, and lifting up his hands to heaven,

cried, "Merciful God, a child, a child! Is my whole ancient race

to perish? Wilt Thou slay us, as Thou didst the first-born of

Egypt? Oh! a child, a child!"

Here Doctor Cramerus advanced humbly, and said, "Your Highness

should have faith. Remember what St. Paul says (Rom. iv.)

concerning the faith of Abraham and Sarah; and Abraham was a

hundred years old, whereas your Highness is scarce forty,

therefore why despair of the mercy of God? Besides, many of his

brothers were still unwed."

Hereat his Grace stood silent, and looked round at his dear

brothers; but Duke George exclaimed, "You need not look at me,

dear brother, for I mean never to marry" (which, indeed, was the

truth, for he died some short time after at Buckow, whether

through Sidonia's witchcraft I know not, at the age of thirty-five

years, and unmarried. One thing, however, is certain, that his

death was as strange as the others; for in seven days he was well,

sick, dead, buried). [Footnote: There was formerly a Cistercian

monastery at Buckow, in the chapel of which still hangs a picture

of this Prince. Like most of his race, the face is in the highest

degree unmeaning; indeed, nothing more can be said of him than

that he was born and died.]

Summa.--His Highness first excused himself to his

illustrious brothers for his absence, and related the cause, how

his knave of a steward had been oppressing the poor, whereupon he

determined to go himself and avenge their injuries; for a prince

should be the father of his people, and it was a blessed work, the

Scripture said, to visit the fatherless and widows in their

affliction (James i. 27). So he hid himself in a little closet,

where he could hear everything in the widow's house, and then bid

her send for the steward; and when he came, the widow asked for

her corn, as usual, but he said, "She must give him the receipt

first, and then she might have it;" upon which she gave him the

receipt, and he went away. Then the Duke bid the widow send a

peasant and his cart for the corn; however, the old answer came

back--"She was a cheat--what did she mean? He had her receipt in

his hand."

Upon this the Duke drove himself to the knave, and made him, in

his presence, pay down all the arrears of corn to the widow; then

he beat him black and blue, for a little parting remembrance, and

dismissed him ignominiously from his service. After this he had

thoughts of driving round to visit Prechln of Buslar, for the

rumour was afloat that Sidonia had bewitched his little son

Bartel, scarcely yet a year old, and made him grow a beard on his

chin like an old carl's, that reached down to his little stomach.

But as his dear brothers were waiting for him, his Grace had given

up this journey, particularly as he wished to hear their opinions

without delay as to what could be done to free the land from this

evil sorceress Sidonia. Hereupon he bade Christian Ludeck, the

state prosecutor, to read the proceedings at Marienfliess from his

notes.

As he proceeded to read the Acta, the listeners crossed and

blessed themselves; at last Duke Francis, the bishop, spake--"Did

I not say well, when years ago, in Oderkrug, I prayed our father

of blessed memory to burn this vile limb of Satan for a terrible

example? But my good brother Philip sided against me with my

father, and he was deemed the wiser. Who is the wiser now, I

wonder--eh?"

Then Duke Philip asked Dr. Cramer, "What he thought of the matter

as theologus?" who answered, "Your Grace must spare me; I

will accuse no one, not even Sidonia, for though such things

appear verily to be done by the help of the devil, yet had they no

proof, seeing that no medicus had hitherto dissected any

one of the cadavera which it was avowed Sidonia had

bewitched to death."

Hereupon Dr. Constantius spake that he had already, by legal

permission, dissected the body of his colleague, Dr. Schwalenberg,

and delivered over the visum repertum to his Grace's

chancellor. Then he described the appearances, which were truly

singular, particularly that of the cartilago ensiformis.

Item, concerning the valvulae tricuspidales, through

which the blood falls into the heart. They were so powerfully

contracted that the blood was forced to take another course, for

which reason, probably, the corpse seemed so dreadfully

discoloured. Item, the vena pulmonalis had burst,

from which cause the doctor had spit blood to the last. And

lastly, the glandulae sublinguales were so swollen that the

tongue could not remain in the mouth. Such a death was not

natural; that he averred. But whether Sidonia's sorcery had caused

it, or it were sent as a peculiar punishment by God, that he would

not say; he agreed with the excellent Dr. Cramer, and thought it

better to accuse no one.

"Now by the cross!" cried Duke Francis, "what else is it but

devil's work? But the lords were very lukewarm, and resolved not

to peril themselves; that he saw. However, if his brother,

Duke Philip, permitted the whole princely race to be thus

bewitched to death, he would have to answer for it at the day of

judgment. He prayed him, therefore, for the love of God, to send

for the hag instantly, and drag her to the scaffold."

Hereat Duke Philip sank his head upon his arm, and was silent a

long space. But the state prosecutor gave answer--"Marry! will

your Episcopal Highness then take the trouble to tell us, who is

to seize the hag? I will do it not, and who else will? for,

methinks, whoever touches her must needs be sore tired of life."

"If no one else will," returned the bishop, "my Camyn executioner,

Master Radeck, will surely do it, for he never feared a witch;

besides, he knows all their arcana."

Meanwhile, as Duke Philip still sat in deep thought, and played

with a quill, the door opened, and a lacquey entered with a

message from the noble Prechln of Buslar, requesting an

audienza of his Grace. He had an infant in his arms which a

wicked witch had prayed to death, and the child had a beard on it

like an old man, so that all in the castle were terrified at the

sight.

His Grace Duke Philip instantly started up. "Merciful God! is it

true?" waved his hand to the lacquey, who withdrew, and then

walked up and down, exclaiming still, "Merciful God! what can be

done?"

"Torture! burn! kill!" cried Duke Francis, the bishop "and

to-morrow, if it be possible. I shall send this night for my

executioner! trust to him. He will soon screw the soul out of the

vile hag; take my word for it."

"Ay! torture! burn! kill!" cried also the state prosecutor, "and

the sooner the better, gracious master. For God's sake, no mercy

more!"

Here the door opened, and Prechln of Buslar entered, pale as the

infant corpse that lay upon his arms. This corpse was dressed in

white with black ribbons, and a wreath of rosemary encircled the

little head; but, what was strange and horrible, a long black

beard depended from the infant's chin, which the wind, as the door

opened, blew backward and forward in the sorrowing father's face.

After him came his wife, wringing her hands wildly from grief, and

an old serving-maid.

Truly the whole convocation shuddered at the sight, but Bishop

Francis was the first to speak--

"And this is no devil's work?" he exclaimed. "Now, by my faith, ye

and your wise doctors are fools if ye deny this evidence. Come

nearer, poor fellow; set the corpse of your child down, and tell

us how it came to pass. We had heard of your strange affliction,

and just spoke thereon as you entered. Ha! the sorceress cannot

escape us now, methinks."

Now, when the mourning father began to tell the story, his wife

set up such a weeping and lamentation, and the old nurse followed

her example after such a lugubrious fashion, that their lordships

could not hear a word. Whereupon his Grace Duke Philip was obliged

earnestly to request that the women should keep silence whilst

Prechln of Buslar spoke.

I have already mentioned what grudge Sidonia had against him,

because he refused to acknowledge himself her feudal vassal by

kissing her hand; also, how she accused him afterward of stealing

her dog. This the poor knight related now at length, and with many

tears, and continued--

"During the strife between them, she one day spat upon both his

little sons, and the eldest, Dinnies, a fine fellow of seven years

old, who was playing with a slipper at the time under the table,

died first. But the accursed witch had stepped over to the cradle

where his little Bartholomew lay sleeping, while this old nurse,

Barbara Kadows, rocked him, and murmuring some words, spat upon

him, and then went away, cursing, from the house. So the spell was

put upon both children that same day, and Dinnies took sick

directly, and in three days was a corpse; but on his little Memi

first grew this great black beard which their lordships all saw,

and then he likewise died, after crying three days and three

nights in horrible torture." The old nurse confirmed all this, and

said--

"That when the horrible hag knelt down by the cradle to blow upon

the child, she turned up her eyes, so that nothing but the whites

could be seen. Ah! what a wicked old hag that could not spare a

child like that, and could put such an old man's beard on its

little face."

Then Duke Philip asked the knight if he had accused Sidonia of the

witchcraft, and what had she answered?

"Ah yes, he had done so, but by letter, for he feared to go to

Marienfliess, lest it might happen to him as to others who met her

face to face, and his messenger brought back a letter in answer,

by which their lordships could see how her arrogance equalled her

wickedness," and he drew forth her letter from his bosom, and

handed the same to his Highness. Now Bishop Francis would have

prevented his brother touching the letter, but Duke Philip had a

brave heart, and taking it boldly, read aloud as follows:--

"SIDONIA, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, PRIORESS OF THE NOBLE CONVENT OF

MARIENPLIESS, LADY AND HEIRESS OP THE LANDS AND CASTLE OF

STRAMEHL, LABES, REGENWALD, WANGERIN, AND OTHERS--GREETING."

"GOOD FRIEND AND VASSAL,"

"Touching your foul accusation respecting your two brats, and my

bewitching them to death, I shall only say you must be mad. I have

long thought that pride would turn your brain: now I see it has

been done. If Bartel has got a beard, send for soap and shave him.

As to yourself, I counsel you to come to Marienfliess to old

Kathe, she knows how to turn the brain right again with a wooden

bowl. Pour hot water therein, three times boiled, set the bowl on

your head, and over the bowl an inverted pot; then, as the water

is drawn up into the empty pot, so will the madness be drawn up

out of your brain into the wooden bowl, and all will be right

again. It is a good receipt; I counsel you to try it. She only

desires you to kiss her hand in return. Such is the advice of your

feudal lady and seigneuress,

"SIDONIA BORK."

His Highness had hardly finished reading the letter, when Bishop

Francis cried out--

"What the devil, brother, hast thou made the murderous dragon a

prioress?"

But his Highness knew nothing of it, and wondered much likewise.

Whereupon the state prosecutor told them how it came about, and

that poor Dorothea Stettin had been talked out of her situation by

the dragon, as was all here to be seen set down in full in the

indictment; but, as the case was not now under discussion, he

would pass it over, although great quarrels and scandal prevailed

in the convent in consequence, and poor Dorothea lay sick,

earnestly desiring to be restored to her prioret.

Bishop Francis now grew yet more angry--

"Give the witch a prioret in hell," he cried. "What would his dear

brother do, now that the proofs were in his hands?"

To which Duke Philip answered mildly--

"Dear Fra, think on my symbol, C. & R." (that is, Christo et

Reipublicae, for Christ and the State). "Let us not be

over-hasty. Suppose that Dr. Constantinus should first dissect

this poor infant, and see what really caused its death."

Thereat the doctor plunged his hand in his pocket, to draw forth

his case of instruments, but the mother screamed out, and ran to

tear the child from him--"No, no; they should never cut up her

little Memi!" Item, the maid screamed out, "No, no; she

would lose her life first!" Item, the father stood still

and trembled, but said never a word.

What was to be done now? His Grace repented of his hastiness, and

at last said--

"Well, then, friends, let the doctor examine the infant

externally, look into its mouth, &c."

And when the parents consented to this, his Grace prayed them

gently to withdraw with him into another apartment while the

examination was made, as such a sight might give them pain. To

this also they consented, and his Grace led the way to another

hall (giving a sign privately to the doctor to do his business

properly), where a splendid collation was served. After which,

just to detain them longer, his Grace brought them to visit the

picture-gallery.

Summa.--When they returned, the dissection had been

accomplished, at which sight the parents and the maid screamed;

but his Grace confuted them, saying--

"That the ends of justice required it. He would now take the case

into his own hands, and they might return quietly to their own

castle and bury their infant, who would sleep as well dissected as

entire."

Having at last calmed them somewhat, they kissed his hand and took

their leave.

Meanwhile the two young Dukes, Ulrich and George, finding the time

hang heavy, had slipped away from the council-board, and gone down

to the ducal stables.

When his Highness noticed their absence, he sent a page bidding

them return and give their opinion in council as to what should be

done next. But they sent back an answer--"Let the lords do what

they pleased; as for them they were off to the chase, seeing it

was pleasanter to hunt a hare than a witch."

Now Bishop Francis stormed in earnest.

"Marry, some folk would not believe in witchcraft, till they stood

with their heels turned toward heaven; and here these idle

younkers must needs ride off to the chase when the life and death

of our race hangs in the balance. I say again, brother, torture,

burn, kill, and as soon as may be."

But Duke Philip still answered mildly--

"Dear Fra, the medicus hath just pronounced that the corpse

of the poor child presents no unnatural appearances; and as to the

beard, this may just as well be a miraculum Dei as a

miraculum damonis, therefore I esteem it better to cite

Sidonia to our court, and admonish her strenuously to all good."

This course had little favour from Bishop Francis; but when the

state prosecutor agreed with his Highness, and Dr. Cramerus

praised so Christian and merciful a resolve, he was at last

content, particularly as some one said (I forget who, but I rather

think it was the chancellor, Martinus Chemnitz), that Mag. Joel of

Grypswald gave it as his opinion that it would be a matter of

trouble and danger to seize the witch, seeing that her familiar,

the spirit Chim, was a mighty and strong spirit, and capable of

taking great revenge on any who laid hand upon her; but that he,

Mag. Joel, would do for him easily if he came in his way.

This intelligence gave the bishop great comfort, and he instantly

despatched a letter to Mag. Joel, bidding him come forthwith to

Stettin, whilst the chancellor prepared a Citationem realem

sive personalem for Sidonia, which contained the following:--

"WE, PHILIP, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, &c.,

"Command thee, Sidonia von Bork, conventual and not prioress of

the noble convent of Marienfliess, to appear before us, at our

court of Stettin, on the 15th day of July, at three of the clock,

to answer for the evil deeds whereof thou art accused, under

punishment of banishment, forfeiture, and great danger to thy body

and life. Against such, therefore, take thou heed.

"Signatum, Old Stettin, 10th July 1616.

"PHILIPPUS, manu sua."

CHAPTER VIII.

Of Sidonia's defence--Item, how she has a quarrel with Joachim

Wedel, and bewitches him to death.

At three of the clock on the appointed day, the grand Rittersaal

(knights' hall) of the stately castle of Old Stettin was crowded

with ministers, councillors, and officials, who had met there by

command of their illustrious mightinesses, Duke Philip, Prince and

Lord of Stettin, and Francis, Bishop of Camyn. Amongst the nobles

assembled were Albert, Count of Eberstein, Lord of Neugarten and

Massow; Eustache Flemming, hereditary Grand Marshal; Christoph von

Mildenitz, privy councillor and dean of the honourable chapter of

Camyn; Caspar von Stogentin, captain at Friedrichswald; Christoph

von Plate, master of the ceremonies; Martin Chemnitz, Chancellor

of Pomerania; Dr. Cramer, my worthy lord father-in-law,

vice-superintendens; Dr. Constantius Oesler,

medicus; Christian Ludeck, attorney-general; Mag. Joel of

Grypswald, and many others. These all stood in two long rows,

waiting for their princely Graces. For it was rumoured that

Sidonia had already arrived with the fish-sellers from Grabow,

which, indeed, was the case; and she had, moreover, packed seven

hogsheads of her best beer on the waggon along with her, purposing

to sell it to profit in the town; but the devil truly got his

profit out of the said beer, for by it not only our good town of

Stettin, but likewise the whole land, was nearly brought to ruin

and utter destruction, as we shall hear further on.

Summa.--When all the afore-named were ranged in rank and

order, the great doors of the hall were flung wide open, and Duke

Philip entered first. Every one knows that he was small, delicate,

almost thin in person, pale of face, with a moustache On his upper

lip, and his hair combed a la Nazarena. [Footnote: Divided

in the centre, and falling down straight at each side, as in the

pictures of our Saviour.] He wore a yellow doublet with

silver-coloured satin sleeves, scarlet hose trimmed with gold

lace, white silk stockings, and white boots, with gold spurs;

round his neck was a Spanish ruff of white point lace, and by his

side a jewel-hilted sword; his breast and girdle were also

profusely decorated with diamonds. So his Highness advanced up the

hall, wearing his grey beaver hat, from which drooped a stately

plume of black herons' feathers, fastened with an aigrette of

diamonds. This he did not remove, as was customary, until all

present had made their obeisance and deferentially kissed his

hand. Duke Francis followed in his episcopal robes, with a mitre

upon his head, and a bishop's crook of ivory in his hand. The

other young dukes, Ulrich, George, and Bogislaus, remained

cautiously away. [Footnote: Note of Bogislaff XIV.--Yes; but not

out of fear. I was celebrating my espousals, as I have said.]

And the blood-standard waved from the towers, and the princely

soldatesca, with all the officers, lined the castle court, so that

nothing was left undone that could impress this terrible sorceress

with due fear and respect for their illustrious Graces.

And when the order was given for Sidonia to be admitted, the two

Princes leaned proudly on a table at the upper end of the hall,

while the assembled nobles formed two long lines at each side.

Three rolls of the drum announced the approach of the prisoner.

But when she entered, accompanied by the lord provost, in her

nun's robes and white veil, on which the key of her office was

embroidered in gold, a visible shudder passed over her frame;

collecting herself, however, quickly, she advanced to kiss their

Graces' hands, but Bishop Francis, after he had drawn his

symbolum with chalk before him on the table, namely, H, H,

H, that is, "Help, helper, help," cried out, "Back, Satan! stir

not from thy place; and know that if thou shouldst attempt any of

thy diabolical sorceries upon my dear lord and brother here (as

for me, this honourable, consecrated, and priestly robe saves me

from thy power) thou shalt be torn limb from limb, and thy members

flung to feed the dogs, while thou art yet living to behold it,

accursed, thrice-accursed witch!"

And his Grace, in his great rage against her, struck the table

with his ivory crook, so that he broke a bottle filled with red

ink which stood thereon, and the said ink (alas! what an evil

omen) poured down upon Duke Philip's white silk stockings, and

stained them red like blood.

Meanwhile Sidonia exclaimed, "What! is there no leech here to feel

the pulse of his Serene Highness? Surely the dog-days, that we are

in the middle of, have turned his brain completely. Any little bit

of mother-wit he might have had is clean gone. What! she had

scarcely entered--knew not yet of what she was accused, and she

was 'Satan!' 'a thrice-accursed witch!' who was to be cut up into

little bits to feed dogs! Had any man ever heard the like? Would

the nobles of Pomerania, whom she saw around her, suffer one of

their own rank--a lady of castles and lands--to be thus handled?

She called upon them all as witnesses, and after the

audienza a notary should be summoned to note all down, for

she would assuredly appeal to the states of the kingdom, and bring

her cause before the Emperor."

Hereupon Duke Philip interposed--"Lady, our dear brother is of a

hasty temperament; yet you can scarce wonder at his speech, or

take it ill, when you consider the terrible evils which you have

brought upon our ancient and illustrious race. However, as an

upright and good prince must judge the cause of his subjects

before his own, I shall first inquire what caused the sudden

illness of the sheriff, Eggert Sparling, and of the abbess,

Magdalena, that time they brought my father's letter to you?--that

letter which you said was a forgery, and flung into the fire."

Illa.--"What caused it? How could she remember? It was a

long time ago; but so far as she recollected, they came in when

she was brewing beer or cooking sausages, and she opened the

window to admit fresh air; before this window they both sat and

talked, to be out of the smell of the cooking; could they not have

got rheumatism by such means? Let his Grace ask the doctors did it

require witchcraft to give a man the rheumatism, who sat in a

draught of air?"

The Duke.--"But both were cured again as quickly as they

had taken it."

Illa>/i>.--"Ah, yes! She would have done her best to cure even

her greatest enemy, for the holy Saviour had said, 'Bless them

that curse you; do good to them that hate you; pray for them that

persecute you.' To such commands of her Lord she had ever been a

faithful servant, and therefore searched out of her cookery-book

for a sympatheticum, but for thanks, lo, now what she gets!

Such was the way of this wicked world. Perhaps my gracious lord

would like to know of the sympatheticum; she would say it

for him, if he wished."

"Keep it to yourself, woman," roared Duke Francis, "and tell us

why you burned my father's letter?"

Illa.--"Because, in truth, she deemed it a forgery. How

could she believe a knave who had already deceived his own

gracious Prince? For did not this base sheriff appropriate to his

own use eleven mares, one hundred sheep, sixteen head of cattle,

and forty-two boars, all the property of his Highness, to the

great detriment of the princely revenue. Item, at the last

cattle sale he had put three hundred florins into his own bag, and

many more evil deceits had this wicked cheat practised."

"Keep to the question," cried Duke Philip, "and answer only what

you are asked. What was that matter concerning the priest which

caused you to complain of him to our princely consistorium?"

Illa.--"Ay! and no notice taken, though it was a scandal

that cried to Heaven, how this licentious young carl was admitted

into the convent as chaplain, when the regulations especially

declared that an honourable old man should hold the office.

She prayed, therefore, that another priest might be appointed."

Hereat my worthy father-in-law, Dr. Cramer, said, "Good lady, be

not so hasty; from all we have heard, this priest is a right

worthy and discreet young man."

Illa.--"Right worthy and discreet, truly! as her old maid

could testify; or the abbess, with whom he locked himself up; or

Dorothea Stettin, with whom he was discovered behind the holy

altar. Fie! The scandal that such a fellow should be convent

chaplain! and that a Christian government should suffer it!"

(spitting three times on the ground.)

The Duke.--"The inquiry concerning him was pending. For

what cause had she forced herself into the sub-prioret?"

Illa.--"She! Forced herself! Forced herself into the

sub-prioret! What devil had invented this story? Why, the abbess

and the whole convent were witness that she was forced into it;

for as Dorothea Stettin was ashamed after that business behind the

altar when she was discovered with the priest--besides, was a

weak, silly thing at all times--she had consented to relieve her

from the sub-prioret at her (Dorothea's) earnest supplication and

prayer."

The Duke.--"Wherefore had she treated the novices with such

cruelty, and run at them with axes and knives, to do them grievous

bodily harm?"

Illa.--"They were a set of young wantons, always gossiping

about marriage and loons, therefore she had held a strict hand

over them, which she would not deny; particularly as if any of the

nuns fell into sin, the law decreed that she was to be beheaded.

Was she therefore wrong or right? Truly the abbess said nothing,

for she was as bad as any of them, and had locked herself up with

the priest."

The Duke.--"What caused the sudden death of the convent

porter?"

Illa.-"What! was this, too, laid on her as a crime? Why, at

last, if any one died in Wolgast, or another in Marienfliess

during her absence, she would have to answer for it."

The Duke.--"But Dr. Schwalenberg had died in the self-same

way, and as suddenly--tumbling down dead upon the pavement."

Illa.--"The knave was so drunk when he ran after her with a

horsewhip to beat her, that he tumbled down on the stones; and

mayhap the shock killed him, as it did that other knave who flung

her against the wall; or that he got a fit; for such would have

been a just judgment of God on him, as it is written (Malachi iii.

5), 'I will be a swift witness for the widow and the orphan.' Ah!

truly she was a poor orphan, and the just God had been her swift

witness; for which, all praise and glory be to His name for ever"

(weeping).

Here Christoph Mildenitz, canon of Camyn, exclaimed, "Marry, thou

wicked viper, I have seen the corpse of this same Schwalenberg

myself, and every one, even the physicians, said that he had died

no natural death."

Illa.--"Must the fat canon put in his word now? Ha! this

was her thanks for the gloves she had knit him, and which he wore

at this present moment, for she knew them, even at that distance,

by the black seams round the thumbs. But so it was ever: she had

no greater enemies than those whom she had done kindness to."

The Duke.--"Prechln von Buslar also accused her of having

brought his two sons to death, and making a long man's beard grow

upon the little Bartel."

Illa (laughing).--"Ah! it is easy to see by your Grace that

we are in the dog-days. Your Highness must pardon my mirth; but

who could help it? Merciful God! are Thy wonders, sent to fright

the world and turn men from sin, to be called devil's sorceries!

To what a pass is the world come! Has your Highness forgotten all

history? Know you not that God gives many signs to His people, and

speaks in wonders? Yet, when did men, till now, say that these

signs were of the devil alone, and persecute and destroy helpless

women by reason of them? Speak, gracious Duke--speak, ye noble

lords--have ye not tortured, and burned, and put to death weak and

innocent women without number for these things, and must ye needs

now seek my life? And when was it ever known, till now, that

nobles sat in judgment upon one of their own rank--a lady of as

high blood and proud descent as any of ye here--for old wives'

tales like these, and children's fooleries? Speak! Whoso saith I

lie, let him step forward and convict me." [Footnote: It was a

fact that the persecution of witches had risen at this period

almost to a mania.]

There was a dead silence in the hall when she had ended, and even

Duke Philip looked down ashamed, for he could not but acknowledge

that she spoke the truth, however unwillingly he believed aught

the vile sorceress uttered.

At last Bishop Francis spake--"Why then didst thou blow upon the

children of Prechln of Buslar, if it were not to bewitch them to

death?"

Whereupon the witch answered scornfully--"If that could kill, then

were we all dead long since, for the wind blows on us every

minute, and we blow upon our hot broth to cool it, yet who dies

thereof? How could a bishop be so sunk in superstition? As to

Prechln of Buslar, no wonder if God had smitten him for his pride

and arrogance, as it is said (Luke i. 51), 'He scatters such as

are proud of heart,' for, though her feudal vassal, he had refused

to do her homage; therefore here was no witch-work, but only God's

work, testifying against sinful haughtiness and pride.

"Moreover, it was false that she had blown upon the children; the

silly fool Prechln had imagined it all--nothing was too absurd for

stupidity like his to believe; and what then? Can't people die but

by witchcraft? Did St. Peter bewitch that covetous knave Ananias

(Acts v.) when he fell down dead at his feet for having lied to

the Holy Ghost? Let the honourable convocation answer her truly."

Summa.--The end of all was (as we may imagine) that the cunning

Satan was allowed to depart in peace, only receiving a wholesome

admonition from his Highness Duke Philip, and another from my

worthy father-in-law, Dr. Cramer.

But what happened as she returned to her lodgment in the Ruedenberg

Street? Behold Joachim Wedel of Cremzow, whom she had made

contracted, sat at his window to enjoy the air, but the evil hag

no sooner looked up and saw him than she began to mock him,

twisting her mouth awry, even as he twisted his mouth. When he

observed her, his face grew red with anger, and he cried out of

the window, "Ha, thou accursed witch, I am not so

help--help--help--helpless as thou thinkest; so do not

twi--twi--twi--twist thy mouth at me that way."

To which Sidonia only answered with the one word "Wait!" and

passed on, but returned soon again with a notary and two witnesses

(one was the landlord of the inn where she had left her beer),

stepped up to the chamber where Joachim sat, and bid them take

down that he had called her an accursed witch while she was

quietly going along the street to her lodgment.

Poor Wedel vainly tried to speak in his defence; the hag

maintained her assertion, and prayed that the just God who brought

all liars to destruction would avenge her cause, if it were His

gracious will, for the Scripture said (Psalm v. 7), "I will

destroy them that speak leasing." Therefore she left him and all

her other enemies in the hand of God. He would take vengeance!

And oh, horror! scarcely had she returned to her lodgment when the

poor man began to scream, "There is some one sitting within my

breast, and lifting up the breast-bone!" Thus he screamed and

screamed three days and three nights long; no physician, not even

Dr. Constantinus, could help him, and finally, when he died, his

body presented the same appearances precisely as those of Dr.

Schwalenberg and the convent porter, as the doctors who dissected

him affirmed upon oath. He was a clever man, learned and well

read, and left Annales behind him, a work which this cruel

witch caused to remain unfinished.

And further, it was a strange thing (whether of witchcraft or of

God, I cannot say) that except my gracious Duke Philip, almost

every one present at this remarkable colloquium died within

the year; for example, Count Albert, Eustache Flemming, Caspar von

Stogentin, Christoph von Mildenitz--all lay in their graves before

the year was out. [Footnote: Some place the death of Joachim Wedel

so early as 1606. The whole matter is taken, almost word for word,

from the criminal records in the Berlin Library; and, according to

Daehnert, the first question on the book concerned the death of

this man. His, Annales include the years from 1501 to 1606;

they contain the whole history of that period, but the work has

never been printed. Daehnert, however, vol. ii. Pomeranian Library,

gives some extracts therefrom; also, in Franz Kock's

"Recollections of Dr. John Bugenhagen," Stettin, 1817, we find

this chronicle quoted.]

CHAPTER IX.

How a strange woman (who must assuredly have been Sidonia)

incites the lieges of his Grace to great uproar and tumult in

Stettin, by reason of the new tax upon beer.

My gracious Prince will perhaps say, "But, Theodore, how comes it

that this hag, who in her youth could not be brought to learn the

catechism, quoted Scripture in her old days like a priest?"

I answer--Serene Prince and Lord, that seems in my opinion because

the evil witch found that Scripture, when not taught of God, can

be made to serve the devil's purposes. For this reason she studied

therein; not to make honey, but to extract poison, as your Grace

may have perceived in her strifes with individuals, and even with

the constituted authorities. Further, methinks, she must also have

studied in history books, for how else could she have discoursed

upon political matters so as to raise the whole population of

Stettin into open revolt, as we shall soon see. However, I leave

these questions undecided, and shall only state facts, leaving the

rest for your Highness's judgment.

The day following that on which Sidonia had been tried before the

noble convocation (and she must have still been in the town, I

think, for it was late in the previous evening when she bewitched

Joachim Wedel), the priest of St. Nicholas read out after the

sermon, before the whole congregation, the ducal order declaring

that, from that date forward, the quart of beer, hitherto sold for

a Stralsund shilling, should not be sold under sixteen Pomeranian

pence. This caused great murmurs and discontent among the people;

and when they came out of church they rushed to the inn, where

Sidonia had been staying, to discuss the matter freely, and

screamed and roared, and gesticulated amongst themselves, saying,

"The council had no right to raise the price of beer; they were a

set of rogues that ought to be hung," &c., and they struck

fiercely on the table, so that the glasses rang. Just then an old

hag came to the door, but not in a cloister habit. She had a black

plaster upon her nose, and complained how she had hurt herself by

falling on the sharp stones, which had put her nose out of joint.

"People talked of this new decree--was it true that the poor folk

were to pay sixteen Pomeranian pence for a quart of beer?--O God!

what the cruelty and avarice of princes could do. But she scarcely

believed the report, for she brewed beer herself better than any

brewer in the land, and yet could sell the quart for eightpence,

and have profit besides. Oh, that princes and ministers could rob

the poor man so! ay, they would take the very shirt off his back

to glut their own greed and covetousness. And what did they give

their hard-earned gold for? To build fine houses for the Prince,

forsooth, and fill them with fine pictures from Italy, and

statues, as if he were a brat of a school-girl, and must have his

dolls to play with."

"What sort is your beer, old dame?" asked a fellow. "Marry, it

must be strange trash, I warrant."

Illa.--"No, no; if they would not believe her word, let

them taste the beer. She wanted nothing further but to prove how

the wicked government oppressed the poor folk; for she was a

God-fearing woman, and her heart was filled with grief to see how

the princes lately, in this poor Pomerania, squeezed the very

life-blood out of the people," &c. Then she lifted up a barrel of

beer upon the table (I have already said that Sidonia had brought

some with her to sell), and invited the discontented people to

taste it, which they were nothing loth to do, and soon broached

the said barrel. Then, having tasted, they extolled her beer to

the skies--"No better had ever been brewed." Now other troops of

the discontented came pouring in from Lastadie, Wiek, &c.,

cursing, and swearing, and shouting--"The beer must not be raised;

they would force the government to take off the tax. Would not

their comrades join?"

This was fine fun to the old hag, and she produced another barrel

of beer, which the mob emptied speedily, and then began talking,

shouting, screaming, roaring like flocks of wild geese; and when

the old hag saw that they had got enough under their caps to make

them quite desperate, she began--

"Was not her beer as good as any beer in the duchy?"

"Ay, ay--better!" shouted the mob, "Where dost thou live, mother?"

To this she gave no answer, but continued: "Yet this beer cost but

eightpence a quart, by which they could see how the wicked and

cruel government oppressed them. Oh, it was a sin that cried to

Heaven, to see how princes and nobles scourged and skinned the

poor folk. They swilled wine of the best, and plenty, in their own

gorgeous castles, but grudged poor bitter poverty its can of beer!

Shame on such a government!"

"True, true!" shouted the mob; "she is right: we are scourged and

skinned by these worthless nobles. Come, brothers, let us off to

the council-hall, and if they will not take off the tax, we'll

murder every soul of them."

Illa.--"And be asses for their pains. Was that all they

could do--pray the mighty council, forsooth, to lower the

tax? Oh, brave fellows! What! had they not the power in their own

hands, if they would only be united? Had they never heard how the

people of Anklam had, in former times, killed their rulers and

governors, and then did justice to themselves? What right had

prince, minister, or council to skin a people? They had all stout

arms and brave hearts here, as she saw; could they not right

themselves?--must they needs crouch for their own to prince or

minister? Did she lie, or did she speak the truth?"

Here the mob cheered and shouted, "True! true!" and they struck

the table till the glasses broke, roaring, "She is right,

brothers. Are we not strong? Can we not right ourselves? Why

should we go begging to a council? May the devil take all the

covetous, rich knaves, who drink the people's blood!"

Illa.--"But may be they wanted a prince--eh? The prince was

the shepherd, the council only the dog who bit the sheep as his

master commanded. Eh, children? is not a prince a fine thing, to

squeeze the sweat and life-blood out of ye, and turn it into gold

for himself? For what are his riches but your sweat and blood, if

ye reflect on it; and is it a sin to take your own? Methinks if

all princes were killed or banished, and their goods divided

amongst the people, ye would all have enough. Have ye not heard of

that brotherhood who set all princes and governments at defiance

for two hundred years, and lived like brothers amongst themselves,

dividing all goods alike, so that they were called Like-dealers;

and no beggar was found amongst them, for they had all things in

common. [Footnote: These Like-dealers were the communists of the

Middle Ages, and were for a number of years the plague of the

northern seas; until at the beginning of the fifteenth century

they were subdued, and many of them captured by the Dutch, who

nailed them up in barrels, leaving an aperture for the head, at

top, and then decapitated them. The best account of them is found

in "Raumer's Historical Note-book," vol. ii. p. 19. And if any one

wishes to see the result of communist teaching, they have only to

study here the horrible excesses to which it leads.

The communism of the apostolic age might have been suited to a

period in which it would be difficult to say whether faith or love

predominated most; but even then it by no means prevented the

existence of extreme poverty, for we read frequently in the Acts

and Epistles of the collections made for the Christian

churches. But in our faithless, loveless, selfish, sin-drowned

century, such an attempt at community of goods would not only

annihilate all morality completely, but absolutely degrade us back

from civilisation and modern Catholicism into the rudest and most

meagre barbarism. The apostles of such doctrines now must speak,

though perhaps unconsciously, from the sole inspiration of Satan,

like Sidonia. The progress of humanity is not to be furthered by

such means. Let our merchants no longer degrade human beings into

machines for their factories, nor our princes degrade them into

automaton puppets for their armies, but of men make living

men. And the strong energy, the stern will, the vital

spiritual power that will thus be awakened, will and must produce

the regeneration of humanity.] Wherefore can ye not be

Like-dealers also? Are there not rich enough for ye to kill? And

if ye are united, who can withstand you? Look at the dog and the

cattle--how the poor stupid beasts let themselves be driven, and

bit, and beaten, just because they are used to it; but, lo! if the

cattle should all turn their horns against the dog and the

shepherd, what becomes of my fine pair? So is it with the Prince

and his council. Oh, if ye were only united! Fling off the parsons

too, for they are prime movers of all your misery. Do they not

teach you, and teach you from your youth up, that ye must have

princes and priests? Eh, brothers, where is that written in the

Scriptures?

"Doth not St. Peter say (1st Epistle, chap, ii.), 'Ye are a royal

priesthood'? What then! if ye are kings, princes, and priests

yourselves, must ye needs pay for other kings, princes, and

priests? Can ye not govern yourselves? can ye not pray for

yourselves? In my opinion, yes! Doth not the same St. Peter

likewise call ye 'a chosen people,' 'a people of inheritance;'

but, I pray you, where is your inheritance?--poor beggars as ye

are--to whom neither priest nor prince will give one can of beer.

Ha! go, I tell you--take back your kingship, your priesthood, your

inheritance. Become Like-dealers, brothers, even as the early

Christians, who had all things in common, before the greed of

priest or prince had robbed them of all. Like-dealers!

Like-dealers! run, run--kill, slay, strike all dead, and never

rest until ye drown the last priest in the blood of the last

prince!"

As the hag thus spoke, through the horrible inspiration of Satan,

the passions of the mob rose to frenzy, and they rushed out and

joined the bands in the streets, and the crowds that poured from

every door; and as they repeated her words from one to the other

the frenzy spread (for they were like oil to fire). But the hag

with the black plaster on her nose, when she saw herself left

alone in the chamber, looked out after them, and laughed, and

danced, and clapped her hands.

Now the Prince and court had withdrawn to Colbatz for safety, and

a council was summoned in all haste and anxiety. The water-gate

was barred likewise, to prevent a junction with the people of

Lastadie and Wiek, but the townspeople, who had gathered in

immense crowds, broke it in, and joining with the others,

proceeded to storm the council-hall, where the honourable council

were then sitting. They shouted, roared, menaced, and seizing the

clerk, Claude Lorenz, in the chamber, murdered him before the very

eyes of the burgomasters, and flung the body out of the window;

then rushing down the steps again, proceeded along the

corn-market, and by the high street into the horse-market, where

they sacked three breweries from the roof to the cellar; and

dragging out the barrels, staved in the bottom, and drank out of

their hats and caps, shouting, roaring, singing, and dancing,

while they swilled the good beer; so that the sight was a scandal

to God and man.

And the uproar waxed stronger and stronger throughout that whole

night. Not a word of remonstrance or expostulation will the people

listen to; they threaten to hang up the messengers of the

honourable council, and show no respect even to a mandate from his

Highness, under his own seal and hand, which a horseman brings

them. They laugh, mock, fling it into the gutter, sack more

breweries, and by ten of the clock, just as the citizens are going

to church, they number ten bands strong.

So my worthy father-in-law, Dr. Cramer, with the dean and

archdeacon of St Mary's, stood upon the steps at the church-door

as the bells rung, and the mob rushed by to sack more breweries.

And he spoke friendly to the rioters--"They should stop and hear

what the Word of God said about the uproar at Ephesus (Acts

xix.)."

And some would, and some would not. What did they want with

parsons? Strike all the parsons dead. They could play the priest

for themselves, and forgive their own sins. Yet many went in, for

it was the custom to attend the weekly preaching, and my worthy

father-in-law, turning round, addressed them from the nave of the

church--me-thinks they needed it!

One very beautiful comparison that he employed made a great

impression, and brought many to reason. For he spoke of the bees,

how, when they wander too far from the hive, they can be brought

back by soft, sweet melody, and so might this wild and wandering

human swarm be brought back to the true hive by the soft and

thrilling melody of God's holy Word. Then for conclusion he read

the princely mandate from the altar; but at this the uproar

recommenced, and they ran shouting and screaming out of the

church, and to their wild work again, staving in the barrels and

drinking the beer; and they insulted a magistrate that spoke

mildly to them, and said if they would be quiet, he would try and

have the tax removed. So they raged like the bands of Korah and

Abiram; wanted to kill every one, all the rich, and divide their

goods; for their riches were their blood and sweat. They would

drag the four guilds to the council-hall, and the chief

burgomasters, and hang them all up, and afterwards the honourable

council, and all the priests, &c. So passed the first and second

day.

On the third morning by six of the clock, his Highness Duke

Philip, with all his suite, drove in six coaches from Colbatz up

to the Oderstrasse, galloping into the middle of the crowd of

noisy, drunken rioters, who thronged the grass-market as thick as

bees in a swarm.

He wished to pass on quickly to the castle, but could not, so he

had to see and hear for himself how the insurrection raged, and

the mob surrounded the coach of his Highness with loud cries, in

which nothing could be heard distinctly, but on one side "Kill

him!" and on the other, "Let him go!" This made Bishop Francis

wild with anger, and he wanted to jump out of the coach and beat

back the people, but Duke Philip gently restrained him. "See you

not," he said, "the people are sick? Hot words will increase their

sickness." Then he motioned to Mag. Reutzio, the court chaplain,

who sat in the coach, to admonish the crowd.

But the moment the reverend M. Reutzio put his head out of the

window to address them, the people shouted, "Down with the parson!

what is he babbling for. Dr. Cramer told us all that yesterday. We

want no parsons; kill them! kill them! Down with priests! down

with princes!" And they sprang upon the horses to cut the traces,

but the coachman and outriders slashed away right and left with

their horsewhips, so that the mob recoiled; and then with loud

shouts of "Make way! make way!" the coachman lashed his horses

forward into a gallop.

But behold, as they crossed the Shoe-strasse, a coarse, thick-set

woman knelt by the kennel with her daughter, a half-grown girl,

and they were drinking beer from a barrel like calves. This same

woman was knocked down by the foremost horse, so that she fell

into the gutter. Hereat she roared and cursed his princely Grace,

and flung the beer-can at him, but it fell upon the horse, who

grew wild, and dashed off in a mad gallop across the Shoe-strasse

into the Pelzerstrasse, and up to the castle without pausing,

where a large crowd had already collected.

If the sovereign people had been wild before, they were ten times

more wild now, and ran to try and get into the castle after his

Highness; but the Duke ordered the gates to be closed. He, finding

that the courts and corridors were already filled with the members

of the venerable council, and three hundred of the militia, bade

the men stand to their arms, load the heavy artillery, and erect

the blood-standard on the tower, while he and the princes, with

the honourable members, considered what could best be done in this

grave and dangerous crisis. Whereupon he bade the council attend

him in the state banqueting-hall.

Now the honourable council declared they were ready to part life

and limb for their liege lord and the illustrious house of

Pomerania, according to the terms of their oath; but the burghers

would not. For when Duke Philip asked, would not the burghers go

forth, and help to disperse this armed and unruly mob, the militia

made sundry objections, and set forth numerous difficulties.

Whereupon Bishop Francis started up, and exclaimed, "Brother, I

pray thee, do not stoop to conciliate the people! If ye know not

how to die, I can go forth and die for all--since it has come to

this." And he rose to depart.

But his Highness seized him by the hand, and entreated patience

yet for one hour more. Then he turned to the militia, and again

admonished them of their duty, and bid them remember the oath; but

they answered sharply, "Why the devil should we go forth and shoot

our brothers, neighbours, and friends? They are more to us than

all." Item, they recapitulated their objections and

difficulties.

Hereupon his Highness exclaimed, "Alas! how comes it that my good

people of Stettin are so unruly? If the Stralsunders indeed had

risen, I would say nothing, but my dear Stettiners, who have ever

been so true and loyal, holding to their province through all

adversities, and now--ah! that I should live to see this day!"

Then Bishop Francis spake--"Truly, our good Stettiners are to be

known no longer. Were it possible to bewitch a whole people, I

would say this witch-devil of Marienfliess had done it. For in all

Pomeranian land was it ever heard that the people refused

obedience to their Prince as the burgher militia here have dared

to refuse this day?"

Just then the evil tidings arrived that the mob were sacking the

house of one of the chiefs of the council, whereupon his Highness

Duke Philip called out again, "Will ye stand by me or not? Here is

no time for hesitation, but action. Will ye follow me? Speak,

lieges!"

Hereat a couple of hundred voices responded "Yes, yes;" but the

"yes" fell as dull and cold upon the ear as the clang of a leaden

bell.

However, Bishop Francis instantly exclaimed, "Good! Go then, all

of ye, to the armoury, and arm yourselves with speed. Meanwhile I

shall see to the loading of the cannon in the castle court. Then

whosoever among you is for God and the Prince, follow me to

victory or death."

But Duke Philip interposed. "Not so, dear brother; not so, my good

lieges; let us try first what reconciliation will do, for they are

my erring children."

And though Duke Francis was sore displeased and impatient, yet my

gracious Prince despatched his chief equerry, Andreas Ehlers, as

herald to the people, dressed in complete armour, and with a drawn

sword in his hand, accompanied by three trumpeters, to read a new

princely proclamation to the people.

So the herald rode first to the grass-market, and when the trumpet

sounded, the people stood still and listened, whereupon he read

the following proclamation, in a loud voice:--

"The Serene and Illustrious Prince and Lord, Lord Philip, Duke of

Stettin, Pomerania, Cassuben, and Wenden, Prince of Rugen, Count

of Gutzkow, and Lord of the lands of Lauenburg and Butow, our

gracious Prince, Seigneur, and Lord, hereby commandeth all

present, from Lastadie, Wiek, Dragern, and other places assembled,

to lay down their arms, and retire each man to his own home in

peace and quietness, without offering further molestation to his

loyal lieges, burghers, and citizens, on pain of severe punishment

in person and life, and deprivation of all wonted privileges.

Further, if they have aught of complaint against the honourable

council or burgesses, let them bring the same before his Highness

himself. Meanwhile the quart of beer, until further orders, shall

be reduced to its original price, as agreed on yesterday in

council, and be sold henceforth for one Stralsund shilling.

"Signatum, Old Stettin, the 18th July, 1616.

"PHILIPPUS, manu sua."

When the herald had finished reading, and shown the princely

signature and seal to the ringleaders, a great murmur arose among

the crowd, of which, however, the herald took no heed, but rode on

to the horse-market, where he likewise read the proclamation, and

so on through the principal thorough-fares. Then he returned to

the grass-market, but lo! not a soul was to be seen; the crowds

had all dispersed, and quietness reigned everywhere. Whereupon the

herald rode joyfully to the horse-market, to see if the like had

happened there, and truly peace had returned here too. And all

along the principal streets where the proclamation had been read,

the people were thoroughly subdued by this princely clemency and

authority.

So when the herald returned to the castle, and related the success

of his mission, the tears filled the eyes of his Grace Duke

Philip, and taking his lord brother by the hand, he exclaimed,

"See, dear Francis, how true are the words of Cicero, 'Nihil

tam populare quam bonitas.'" [Footnote: (Nothing so popular as

kindness.)] Then they both went forth and walked arm in arm

throughout the town, and wherever his Grace saw any group still

gathered round the beercans, he told them to be content, for the

beer should be sold to them at the Stralsund shilling. And thus

the riot was quelled, and the town returned to its accustomed

quietness and order.

Now truly the same Cicero says, "In imperita muititudine est

varietas et inconstantia et crebra tanquam tempestatum, sic

sententiarum commutatio." [Footnote: (The senseless multitude

are changeful and inconstant as the weather, and their opinions

suffer as many mutations.)]

CHAPTER X.

Of the fearful events that take place at Marienfliess--Item,

bow Dorothea Stettin becomes possessed by the devil.

Meanwhile Satan hath not been less busy at Marienfliess in

Sidonia's absence, than at Old Stettin in her presence. But he

cunningly changed his mode of action, not to be recognised, and

truly Dorothea Stettin was the first he practised on. For having

recovered from her sickness, she one day presented herself at

church in the nun's choir as usual; but while joining in the

closing hymn, she suddenly changed colour, began to sob and

tremble in every limb, then continued the chant in a strange,

uncertain voice, sometimes treble, sometimes bass, like that of a

lad whose beard is just beginning to grow. At this the abbess and

the sisterhood listened and stared in wonder, then asked if the

dear sister had fallen ill again?

"No," she answered gruffly, "she only wanted to be married. She

was tired of playing the virgin. Did the abbess know, perchance,

of any one who would suit her as bridegroom? For she must and

would be married!"

Think now of the horror of the nuns. Still they thanked God that

such a scandalum had happened during the singing, and not

at the blessed sermon. Then they seized her by the arms, and drew

her away to her cell. But woe, alas! scarcely had she reached it,

when she threw herself upon her bed in strong convulsions. Her

eyes turned so that only the whites were to be seen, and her face

grew so drawn and strange that it was a grief to look upon it, and

still she kept on screaming in the deep, gruff man's voice--"For a

bridegroom! a bridegroom!" she that was so modest, and had such a

delicate, gentle voice. Whereupon all the sisters rushed in to

hear her the moment the sermon was over; item, the priest

in his surplice.

But the unfortunate maiden no sooner beheld him, than she cried

out in the deep bass voice--"David, I must marry; wilt thou be my

bridegroom?" And when he answered, "Alas, poor girl! when was such

speech ever heard from you before? Satan himself must have

possessed you!" she cried out again, "Hold your chatter--will you,

or will you not?"

"How can I take you?" replied the priest; "you know well that I

have a wife already." Whereupon the gruff bass voice answered,

with mocking laughter, "Ha! ha! ha! what matter for that? Take

more wives!"

Here some of the young novices laughed, but others who had never

wept bis dato, now broke out in violent weeping, and the

abbess exclaimed, "Oh, merciful God! who hath ever heard the like

from this our chaste sister, whom we have known from her youth up?

Oh! deliver her from this wicked devil who reigns in her soul and

members!"

But at the mention of the holy name, the evil one raged more

furiously than ever within her. He tore her, so that she foamed at

the mouth, and--ah! woe is me that I must speak it--uttered coarse

and shameful words, such as the most shameless groom or jack-boy

would scarce pronounce.

These sent all the novices flying and screaming away; but the

abbess remained, with some of the nuns, also the priest, who

prepared now to exorcise the devil with the most powerful

conjurations. Yet ere he began, a strange thing happened; for the

possessed maiden became suddenly quite still, all her members

relaxed, and her eyes closed heavily as if in sleep. But it was

not so, for she then began, in her own soft, natural voice, to

chant a hymn in Dutch, although they all knew she never had

learned one word of that language. The words were these:--

"Oh, chaste Jesu! all whose being

Was so lovely to our seeing,

Thoughts and speech, and soul and senses,

Filled with noblest evidences.

Oh! the God that dwelt in Thee,

In His sinless purity!

Oh, Christ Immanuel,

Save me from the sinner's hell!

Make my soul, with power divine,

Chaste and holy, ev'n as Thine!"

Then she added in her own tongue--"Ah! ye must pray much before

this devil is cast out of me. But still pray, pray diligently, and

it will be done.

"Guard, Lord Christ, our deepest slumber,

Evil thoughts may come in dreams;

And the senses list the murmur,

Though the frail form sleeping seems.

Oh! if Thy hand do not keep us,

Even in sleep, from passion's flame,

Though our eyes close on temptation,

We may fall to sin and shame!

Amen."

"Yes, yes, oh, pray for me; be not weary, her judgment is

pronounced."

"What mean you?" spake the abbess, "whose judgment hath been

pronounced?"

Illa.--"Know you not, then? Sidonia's."

Haec.--"How could she have bewitched you? She is far from

here."

Illa.--"Spirits know no distance."

Haec.--"How then hath she done this?"

Illa.--"Her spirit Chim summoned another spirit last

evening, who entered into me as I gasped for air, after that

strife between you and your maid, for I was shocked to hear this

faithful creature called a thief."

Haec.--"And is she not a thief?"

Illa.--"In no wise. She is as innocent as a new-born

child."

Haec.--"But there was no one else in the chamber when I laid

down my purse, and when she went away it was gone."

Illa.--"Ah! your dog Watcher was there, and the purse was

made of calf's skin, greased with your hands, for you had been

rolling butter; so the dog swallowed it, having got no dinner.

Kill the dog, therefore, and you will find your purse."

Haec.--"For the love of Heaven! how know you aught of my

rolling butter?"

Illa.--"A beautiful form like an angel sits at my head, and

whispers all to me."

Haec.--"That must be the devil, who has gone out of thee,

for fear of the priest."

Illa.--"Oh, no! He sits under my liver. See!--there is the

angel again! Ha! how terribly his eyes are flashing!"

Haec.--"Canst thou see, then? Thine eyes are close shut"

(opening Dorothea's eyes by force, but the pupil is not to be

seen, only the white).

Illa.--"I see, but not through the eyes--through the

stomach."

Haec.--"What? Thou canst see through the stomach?"

Illa.--"Ay, truly! I can see everything: there is Anna

Apenborg peeping under the bed; now she lets the quilt drop in

fright. Is it not so?"

The abbess clasps her hands together, looks at the priest in

astonishment, and cries, "For the love of God, tell me what does

all this betoken?"

To which the priest answers, "My reason is overwhelmed here, and I

might almost believe what the ancients pretended, and Cornelius

Agrippa also maintained, that two daemones or spirits attend

each man from infancy to the grave; and that each spirit strives

to blend himself with the mortal, and make the human being like

unto himself, whether it be for good or evil. [Footnote: Cornelius

Agrippa, of the noble race of Nettersheim, natural philosopher,

jurist, physician, soldier, necromancer, and professor of the

black art--in fine, learned in all natural and supernatural

wisdom, closed his restless life at Grenoble, 1535. His principal

work, from which the above is quoted (cap. xx.), is entitled De

Occulta Philosophia. That Socrates had an attendant spirit or

demon from his youth up, whose suggestions he followed as an

oracle, is known to us from the Theages of Plato. But of

the nature of this genius, spirit, or voice, we have no certain

indications from the ancients, though the subject has been much

investigated in numerous writings, beginning with the monographs

of Apulejus and Plutarch. The first (Apulejus), De Deo

Socratis, makes the strange assertion, that it was a common

thing with the Pythagoreans to have such a spirit; so much so,

that if any among them declared he had not one, it was

deemed strange and singular.]

"However, I esteem this apparition to be truly Satan, who has

changed himself into an angel of light to deceive more easily, as

is his wont; therefore, as this our poor sister hath also a

prophesying spirit, like that maiden mentioned, Acts xvi. 16, let

us do even as St. Paul, and conjure it to leave her. But first, it

would be advisable to see if she hath spoken truth respecting the

dog."

So my dog was killed, and there in truth was the purse of gold

found in his stomach, to the wonderment of all, and the great joy

of the poor damsel who had been accused of stealing it.

Immediately after, the poor possessed one turned herself on the

couch, sighed, opened her eyes, and asked, "Where am I?" for she

knew nothing at all of what she had uttered during her sleep, and

only complained of a weakness through her entire frame. [Footnote:

That poor Dorothea was in the somnambulistic state (according to

our phraseology) is evident. A similar instance in which the

demoniac passed over into the magnetic state is given by Kerner,

"History of Possession," p. 73. I must just remark here, that

Kieser ("System of Tellurism") is probably in error when he

asserts, from the attitudes discovered amongst some of the

Egyptian hieroglyphics, that the ancients were acquainted with the

mode of producing the magnetic state by manipulation or passes,

for Jamblicbus enumerates all the modes known to the ancients of

producing the divining crisis, in his book De Mysteriis

AEgyptorium, in the chapter, Insperatas vacat ab actione

propria, page 58, and never mentions manipulation amongst

them, of which mode, indeed, Mesmer seems to have been the

original discoverer. The ancients, too, were aware (as we are)

that the magnetic and divining state can be produced only in young

and somewhat simple (simpliciores) persons. Porphyry

confirms this in his remarkable letter to the Egyptian priest of

Anubis (to which I earnestly direct the physiologists), in which

he asks, "Wherefore it happens that only simple (aplontxronz

kai nxonz) and young persons were fitted for divination?" Yet

there were many even then, as we learn from Jamblich and the later

Psellus, who maintained the modern rationalistic view, that all

these phenomena were produced only by a certain condition of our

own spiritual and bodily nature; although all somnambulists affirm

the contrary, and declare they are the result of external

spiritual influences working upon them.] After this, the

evil spirit left her in peace for two days, and every one hoped

that he had gone out of her; but on the third day he began to rage

within the unfortunate maiden worse than ever, so that they had to

send quickly for the priest to exorcise him. But behold, as he

entered in his surplice, and uttered the salutation, "The peace of

our Lord Jesus Christ be upon this maid," the evil spirit with the

man's coarse voice cried out of poor Dorothea's mouth--

"Come here, parson, I'll soon settle for you."

Then it cursed, swore, and blasphemed God, and raged within the

poor maiden, so that the foam gathered on her pale lips. But the

reverend David is not to be frightened from his duty by the foul

fiend. He kneeled down first, with all present, and prayed

earnestly to God; then endeavoured to make the possessed maiden

repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Creed after him; but the devil

would not let her. He raged, roared, laughed scornfully, and

abused the priest with such unseemly words that it was a grief and

horror to hear them.

"Wait, parson," it screamed, "in three days thou shalt be as I am.

(Namely, a spirit; though no one knew then what the devil meant.)

I will make thee pay for this, because thou tormentest me."

But neither menaces nor blasphemies could deter the good priest.

He lifted his eyes to heaven, and prayed that beautiful prayer

from the Pomeranian liturgy, page 244, which he had by heart:--

"O Lord Jesu Christ, Thou Son of the living God, at whose name

every knee must bend, in heaven, upon the earth, and under the

earth; God and man; our Saviour, our brother, our Redeemer; who

hast conquered sin, and death, and hell, trod on the devil's head

and destroyed his works--Thou hast promised, Thou holy Saviour,

'that whatever we ask the Father in Thy name, Thou wilt grant unto

us.' Therefore, by that holy promise, we pray Thee, Lord Christ,

to look with pity upon this our sister, who hath been baptized in

Thy holy name, redeemed by Thy precious blood, washed from all

sin, anointed by Thy Holy Spirit, and made one with Thee, a member

of the living temple of Thy body. Relieve her from the tyranny and

power of the devil; graciously cast out this unclean spirit, that

so Thy holy name may be praised and glorified, for ever and ever.

Amen."

Then he laid his hand upon the sick maiden's head, while the

hellish fiend raged and roared more furiously than ever, so that

all present were seized with trembling, and exclaimed--

"In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and in the strength of the

Lord Jesus Christ, and in the power of the Lord Jesus Christ, I

bid, desire, and command thee, thou unclean spirit, to come forth,

and give place to the Holy Spirit of God! Amen."

Whereupon the convulsions ceased in the sick maiden's limbs, and

she sank down gently on her bed, as a sail falls when the cords

are loosed and the wind ceases; and thus she lay for a long time

quite still.

After which, she said in her own natural voice--

"Now I see him no more!"

"Who is it that you see no more?" asked the abbess.

Illa.--"The evil spirit, my angel says. He has gone forth

from me. Woe, woe, alas!"

Haec.--"Why dost thou cry, alas, when he has in truth gone

out from thee?"

Illa.--"My angel says, he will first strangle the priest who

has cast him forth, then will he return, as it is written in the

Scripture (Matt. xi. 24), 'After three days I will return to my

house from which I had gone forth.' Ah, look! the good priest is

growing pale. But let him be comforted, for he shall have his

reward in heaven, as the Lord saith (Matt, v.)."

Haec.--"But why does the great God permit such power to the

devil, if what thou sayest be true?"

Illa is silent.

Haec.--"Thou art silent; what says thy angel?"

Illa.--"He is silent also--now he speaks again."

Haec.--"What says he then?"

Illa.--"The wisdom of God is silent."

The abbess repeats the words, while the priest falls back against

the wall, as white as chalk, and exclaims--

"Your angel is right. I feel as if a mouse were running up and

down through my body. Alas! now the bones of my chest are

breaking. Farewell, dear sisters; in heaven we shall meet again.

Farewell; pray for me. I go to lay my head upon my death-pillow."

And he was scarcely gone out at the door when a great cry and

weeping arose amongst the sisters present, and the abbess asked,

weeping likewise--

"Is this, too, Sidonia's work?"

Illa.--"Whose else? She hath never forgiven him because he

rejected her love, and hath only delayed his death to a fitting

opportunity."

Haec.--"Merciful God! and will this murderous nun be brought

to judgment?"

Illa.--"Yes, when her hour comes, she will be burned and

beheaded--not many years after this."

Haec.--"And what will become of you? Will you die, if Satan

often takes up his dwelling-place in your heart?"

Illa.--"If you do not prevent him, I shall die; if he leave

me, I shall grow well."

Haec.--"What can we, miserable mortals, do to prevent him?"

Illa.--"Jobst Bork of Saatzig has three rings, which the

spirits made, and gave to his grandmother in Pansin. Item,

he has also a beautiful daughter called Diliana, and as no second

on earth bears her name, [Footnote: In fact, I have nowhere else

met with the name "Diliana," whereas that of "Sidonia" is by no

means uncommon. Virgil calls Dido "Sidonia" (AEn. i, v. 446), with

somewhat of poetic license, for she was not born in Sidon but in

Tyre. About the time of the Reformation this name became very

common in the regal houses. For example, King George of Bohemia,

Duke Henry of Saxony, Duke Franz of Westphalia, and others, had

daughters called "Sidonia." For this reason, therefore, the proud

knight of Stramehl probably gave the same name to his daughter. In

the Middle Ages I find only one Sidonia or Sittavia, the spouse of

Count Manfred of Xingelheim, who built the town of Zittau, and

died in the year 1021.] so is there no other who equals her in

goodness, piety, humility, chastity, and courage. If this Diliana

lays one of the rings on my stomach, in the name of God, the devil

can no more enter in me, and I shall be healed. But what do I

see?--there she comes herself."

Haec.--"Who comes?"

Illa.--"Diliana. She has run away from her father, and will

offer herself as servant to Sidonia, because old Wolde is sick."

Haec.--"She must be foolish then, if this be true."

Illa.--"Ay, she is foolish, but it is from pure love, which

indeed is a godlike folly; for Sidonia hath bewitched her poor

father, and he grows worse and worse, and her prayers to the

sorceress are of no avail to help him, so she hath privately left

her father's castle, to offer herself as servant to Sidonia; for

no wench, far or near, will be found who will take old Wolde's

place, and she hopes, in return for this, that the sorceress will

give her something from her herbal to cure her old father. Ha!

what do I see? How her beautiful hair streams behind her upon the

wind! How she runs like a deer over the heather, and looks back

often, for her heart is trembling lest her father might send after

her. Now she enters the wood; see, she kneels down, and prays for

her father and for herself, that God will keep her steps. Let us

pray also, dear sisters, for her, for the poor priest, and for the

unfortunate maiden."

Whereupon they all fell upon their knees, and the possessed virgin

offered up so beautiful a prayer that none had ever heard the like

before, and every face was bedewed with tears. After which she

awoke, and, as the first time, remembered nothing whatever of what

had passed, or of what she had uttered.

CHAPTER XI.

Of the arrival of Diliana and the death of the convent

priest--Item, how the unfortunate corpse is torn by a wolf.

Scarcely had the abbess returned to her apartment when Diliana

sprang in, with flowing hair, and her beautiful, blooming face

looking like a rose sprinkled with morning dew. So the worthy

matron screamed first with wonder that all should be true, then

taking the lovely young maiden in her arms, pressed her to her

heart, and asked--

"Wherefore comest thou here, my beloved Diliana?"

Illa.--"I have run away from my father, good mother, and

will serve my cousin Sidonia Bork as her waiting-maid, hoping that

in return she will give him something out of her herbal to heal

his poor frame, which is distracted day and night with pain, even

as she healed you and Sheriff Sparling; and she will do this, I am

sure, because I hear that her maid, Anne Wolde, is sick, and no

one in all the country round will take service with her, they

say."

Haec.--"Poor child, thou knowest not what thou dost. She

will slay thee, or ill-treat thee in her wickedness, or may be

bring some worse evil than either on thee."

Illa.--"And I will do as the Lord commanded--if she strike

me on one cheek, I will turn to her the other also, whereby she

will be softened, and consent to help my poor father."

Haec.--"She will help him in nothing, and then how wilt

thou bear the disgrace of servitude?"

Illa.--"Disgrace? If the soul suffer not disgrace, the

body, methinks, can suffer it never."

Haec.--"But how canst thou do the duties of a serving-wench?

Thou, brought up the lady of a castle!"

Illa.--"I have learned everything privately from Lisette;

trust me, I can feed the pigs and sheep, milk the cow, and wash

the dishes, &c."

Haec.--"But what put it into thy head, child, to serve her

as a maid?"

Illa.--"When I last entreated my cousin Sidonia to help my

poor father, she said, 'Get me a good maid who will do my business

well, and then I shall see what can be done to help him. Now, as

no one will take service with her, what else can I do, but play

the trencher-woman myself, and thus save my poor father's life?"

Haec.--"Thou hast saved it once before, as I have heard."

Illa is silent.

Haec.--"How was it? Tell me, that I may see if they told me

the story truly."

Illa.--"Ah, good mother, speak no more of it. It was as you

have heard, no doubt."

Haec.--"People say that a horse threw your father, dragged

him along, and attempted to kick him, upon which, while all the

men-folk stood and gaped, you flew like the wind, seized the

bridle of the animal, and held him fast till your father was up

again."

Illa.--"Well, mother, there was nothing very wonderful in

that."

Haec.--"Also, they tell that one day at the hunt you came

upon a part of the wood where two robbers were beating a noble

almost to death, after having plundered him. You sprang forward,

menaced them, and finally made them take to their heels, after

which you helped the poor wounded man upon your own palfrey, like

a good Samaritan indeed, and without thought of the danger or

fatigue, walked beside him, leading the horse by the bridle until

clear out of the wood, and thus----"

Illa.--"Ah, good mother, do not make me more red than I am;

for know, the poor wounded noble thought so much of what I had

done, that he must needs ask me for his bride, though truly I

would have done the like for a beggar."

Haec.--"Then it was George Putkammer, and thou wilt not have

him?"

Illa.--"I may say with Sara (Tobias iii.), 'Thou knowest,

Lord, that I have desired no man, and have kept my soul pure from

all evil lusts;' but indeed to save my father's life is more to me

than a bridegroom. A bridegroom may be offered many times in life

to a young thing like me, but a father comes never again."

Haec.--"God grant that thou mayest save him, but never tell

thy cousin Sidonia of George Putkammer's love, else, methinks, it

will be all over with thee."

Illa.--"But if she ask me, I cannot lie unto her----"

Just then the cry was heard, "The priest is dying;" whereupon the

abbess, Diliana, indeed the whole convent, rushed out to visit him

at the glebe-house. The priest, however, was dead when they

arrived, and his corpse had the same signature of Satan as the

others who died before him, save only that his right hand was

uplifted, and had stiffened into the same position in which he

held it when he exorcised the evil spirit out of Dorothea.

So they all stood around pale and trembling, while they listened

to his poor widow telling how his breast-bone rose up higher and

higher, until at length he died in horrible agony.

But behold, the door flies open, and Sidonia, who had just

returned from her long journey, enters, with her long black habit

trailing after her through the chamber. Whereupon they all become

dumb with horror and disgust, and stand there like so many marble

or enchanted figures.

"Ah, what is this I hear," exclaimed the accursed sorceress, "just

on my return home? Is the worthy and upright man really dead? Woe!

alas, that I could have saved him from this! How did it happen?

Thank God that I was not here at the time, or the wicked world,

which lays all manner of crimes upon me falsely, might have

accused me of this likewise. Yes, I thank God a thousand times

that I was absent! Speak, poor Barbara! how did it happen that

your dear spouse fell so suddenly ill?"

But the poor wife only trembled, and sank powerless against the

bed where the corpse of her husband lay stretched; for when

Sidonia advanced close to it, the red blood oozed from the mouth

of the dead man, as if to accuse his murderess before God and man.

And no one could speak a word, not even a sob was heard in answer

to her questions; whereupon the sorceress spake again--

"Alas, what is all this which has happened in my absence! Good

Dorothea, they tell me, is possessed by a devil; but, at least,

people can see now that I am as innocent as a new-born infant;

though, assuredly, some terrible sinner must be lurking amongst

us, though we know it not, or all this judgment would not come

upon the convent. I would not willingly condemn any Christian

soul; but, if I err not, the old dairy-woman is the person!"

This she said from revenge, because the woman had refused to give

her seven cheeses for a florin, when she was on her way to

Stettin. Of the misfortunes which grew out of these same cheeses

for the poor dairy-woman, we shall hear more in due time.

At this horrible hypocrisy and falsehood the abbess could no

longer hold her peace, and cried, "In my opinion, sister, you err

much; the old dairy-mother is a pious and honest woman, as all the

convent can testify, and attended diligently on our dead pastor

here to be catechised."

Illa.--"Who then, else? It was incomprehensible. A thousand

times thank God that she had been away during it all. Now they

must hold their tongues, they who had blackened her to the Prince;

but his Grace had done her justice, and dismissed her honourably

from the trial at Stettin."

Haec.--"I have a different version of the story; for his

Highness has commanded you to resign the sub-prioret to Dorothea

Stettin forthwith--item, you are to be kept close within

the convent walls, for which purpose I shall order the great

padlock to be placed again upon the gates. Thus his Grace

commands; and as we have a chapter assembled here already, I may

announce the resolve with all due form."

Illa.--"What! you tell me this, in the presence of the

priest's wife and your serving-wenches? Do they belong to the

chapter of noble virgins? I shall forward a protocollum to

his Highness, setting forth all that has happened in my absence,

and get all the sisterhood to sign it, that the Duke may know what

kind of folk the abbess summons to her chapter; but as touching

the sub-prioret, it is well known to you all how it was forced

upon me by Dorothea, as I fully explained to the princes in

council. However, speak, sisters; if ye indeed wish this light,

silly creature, this devil-possessed Dorothea Stettin, for your

sub-prioress again, take her, and welcome--I will not prevent you.

She can teach you all the shameful words which, as I hear, flow so

liberally from her lips--eh, sisters, will ye have the wanton or

not?"

And when the nuns all cried "No, no!" the accursed witch went on--

"Well, then, I bid ye all to assemble instantly in my apartment,

to testify the same to his Highness; also to bear witness of the

evil deeds done in my absence, for that the poor priest has died

no natural death, is evident; therefore his Grace, I trust, will

probe the business to the uttermost, and find out who is the evil

Satan amongst us--ay, and tear off the deceitful mask, that my

good name thereby may be justified before the Prince and the whole

world."

Diliana now stepped forward from amidst a crowd of serving-women

among whom she had concealed herself, and bowed low in salutation

to Sidonia; but the witch laughed scornfully, and cried, "What!

has your worthy father sent you to me?"

Illa.--"Ah, no; she came out of her own free will, to serve

her good cousin Sidonia, for she heard that no maid could be found

to hire with her, therefore she would play the serving-wench

herself, and ask no other wages but a cure from her receipt-book

for her dear father, who was daily growing worse and worse."

Haec.--"She required much from her maid; and on her way home

she had bought six little pigs--item, she had a cow, cocks

and hens, geese, and seven sheep. All these the maid must feed and

look after, besides doing all the indoor work."

Illa.--"She could do all that easily, for old Lisa had

instructed her in everything."

Haec.--"But how was it that she was not ashamed to play the

serving-wench--she, a castle and land dowered maiden, with that

illustrious name she bore?"

Illa.--"There was but one thing of which men need be

ashamed, and that was sin; but this was not sin."

Haec.--"She was very sharp with her answers. Why did she not

talk to her father, who had made her brother's son, Otto of

Stramehl, give up to him her two farm-houses in Zachow, with all

the rents appertaining; but Otto had been justly punished by the

good God, for she had just got tidings of his death."

Illa.--"But my father will restore you all, good cousin, as

he wrote to you himself."

Haec.--"Ay, the old houses, may be, he'll give back, but

will he restore the rents that have been gathering for fifty

years? No, no, he refuses the money, even as my nephew Otto

refused it (but God has struck him dead for it, as I said before).

[Footnote: He died suddenly just at this time; and Sidonia

confessed, at the eleventh torture question, that she had caused

his death, (Daehnert, p. 430.)] Oh, truly these proud knights of my

own kin and name stood bravely for me against the world! ay, I owe

them many thanks for turning me out, a poor young maiden,

unfriended and alone, till I became a world's wonder, and the

scorn of every base and lying tongue; but persecution was ever the

lot of the children of God."

Illa.--"Her poor father had not the gold; for five

rix-dollars a year would amount in fifty years to five hundred

rix-dollars, and such a sum her father could not command."

Haec.--"Yet he had enough to spend on horses, falcons,

hunting, and the like; only for her he had naught."

Illa (kissing her hand).--"Ah, good cousin, leave him in

peace, and help him if you can; I will serve thee as well as I am

able--my life long, if you ask it of me."

Haec.--"Away! thou silly, childish thing; how should the

meek Sidonia ever bear to be served by a noble lady as thou art?

If the world had not blackened me before, it might begin now in

earnest, and justly."

Illa.--"Ah, good, kind cousin, will you then heal my father

for nothing?"

Haec.--"Well, I shall see about it, if, perchance, it be

God's will."

Illa (kissing her hand again).--"Dear cousin, how good you

are! Now see, all of ye, what a kind cousin I have in Sidonia, who

has promised to cure my loved father" (dancing for joy like a

child).

Haec.--"Come, then, all present, to my apartment; thou,

Diliana, mayest draw up the protocollum, and better,

perhaps, than a bad notary. Come!"

So they all proceeded to the refectory, and the

protocollum, was drawn up and signed, and Sidonia compelled

the new convent porter to carry it off, that very night, to his

Highness at Stettin.

Meanwhile the poor widow, along with some other women, including

the old dairy-mother, prepared the poor priest's corpse for

burial, and they put on him his black Geneva gown--item,

black plush breeches, which his brother-in-law in Jacobshagen had

made him a present of. I note the plush breeches especially, for

what reason my readers will soon see; and because the parsonage

swarmed with rats, they had the corpse carried before nightfall

into the church, and set down close beside the altar; and by

command of the sheriff the windows were thrown open to admit fresh

air, on account of the dead body lying there.

An hour after the poor widow went into the church, to see if the

blood yet flowed from the mouth of her dear murdered husband. But

what sees she?--the corpse is lying on its face in the coffin in

place of on its back. She calls the dairy-mother in, trembling

with horror, and they turn him between them. Then they go forth,

but return in a little while again, and see, the corpse is again

turned upon its face. And no one is able to comprehend how the

corpse can turn of itself, or be turned by any one, for the widow

has one key of the church and the abbess has the other; therefore

the poor wife, simple as she is, resolves to hide herself in the

church for the night, and light the altar candles, that she might

see how it happened that the corpse turned in the coffin. And the

dairy-mother agreed to watch with her; item, Anna Apenborg,

who heard the story from them; item, Diliana, for as

Sidonia had no bed to give her, the young maiden had gone to sleep

with Anna, and there the priest's maid told them of the horrible

way her poor master's corpse had turned in the coffin. So the

weeping widow let them all watch with her gladly, for she feared

to be alone, but warned them to speak no word, lest the evil-doer,

whoever it might be, should perceive them, and keep away. There

was no man within call, either, to help them, for the porter had

gone away to Stettin; so they four, after commending themselves to

God, went secretly into the church at ten of the clock, laid the

corpse right upon its back, and lit candles round it, as the

custom is. Item, they lit the candles on the altar, and then hid

themselves in the dark confession-box, which lay close by the

altar, and from which they could see the coffin perfectly.

After waiting for an hour or more, sighing and weeping, and when

the hour-glass which they had brought with them showed it was the

twelfth hour--hark! there was a noise in the coffin that made them

all start to their feet, and at the same instant the private door

of the nuns' choir opened gently, and something came down the

steps of the gallery, step by step, on to the coffin, and the

blood now froze in their veins, for they perceived that it was a

wolf; and he laid his paws upon the corpse, and began to tear it.

At this sight the poor widow screamed aloud, whereupon the wolf

sprang back and attempted to make off, but Diliana bounded on its

track, crying, "A wolf! a wolf!" and seeing upon the altar an old

tin crucifix, which some of the workmen who had been opening the

vault had brought up from below, she seized it and pursued the

wolf out of the great gate into the churchyard, while the rest

followed screaming. And as the wolf ran fast, and made for the

graves, as if to hide itself, the daring virgin, not being able to

get near enough to strike it, flung the crucifix at the unclean

beast, when lo! the wolf suddenly disappeared, and nothing was to

be seen but Sidonia in the clear moonlight, standing trembling

beside a grave.

"Good cousin!" exclaimed Diliana in horror, "where has the wolf

gone? we were pursuing a wolf." Upon which the horrible and

accursed night-raven recovered herself quickly, and pointing with

her finger to the crucifix which lay upon the ground, said with a

tone of mingled scorn and anger, "There, thou stupid fool! he sank

beneath that cross!"

The poor innocent child believed her, and ran forward to pick up

the crucifix, looking in every direction around for the wolf; but

the others, who were wiser, saw full well that the wolf had been

none other than Sidonia herself, for her lips were bloody, and

round them, like a beard, were sticking small black threads, which

were indeed from the black silk hose of the poor corpse. And when

they looked at her horrible mouth they trembled, but were silent

from fear; all except the inquisitive Anna Apenborg, who asked,

"Dear sister, what makes you here at midnight in the churchyard?"

Here the horrible witch-demon mastered her anger, and answered in

a melancholy, plaintive tone, "Ah, good sister Anna! I had a

miserable toothache, so that I could not sleep, and I just crept

down here into the fresh air, thinking it might do me good. But

what are you all doing here by night in the churchyard?"

No one replied; indeed, she seemed not to care for an answer, but

put up her kerchief to her horrible and traitorous mouth, and

turned away whimpering. The others, however, went back to the

church, where the corpse truly lay upon its back as they had left

it, but the hose were rent at the knee, and the flesh torn and

bloody.

How can I tell now of the poor widow's screams and tears?

Summa.--The corpse was buried the next day, and as no man

had been a witness of the night-scene, only the weeping women, no

one would believe their strange story, neither on the last trial

would the judges even credit so wild a tale as that Sidonia could

change herself into a wolf, and pronounced as their opinion, that

fear must have made the women blind, or distracted their heads,

and that no doubt a real wolf had attacked the corpse, which was

by no means a strange or unusual occurrence. (But I have my own

opinion on the subject, and many who read this will think

differently from the judges, I warrant.)

For no more horrible vengeance could have been devised by

Beelzebub himself, the chief of the devils, than this of the

she-wolf Sidonia Bork (for Bork means wolf in the Gothic tongue),

to revenge herself on the priest because he disdained her love.

But why and wherefore the unfortunate corpse was found so often

turned upon its face, that I cannot explain, and it must ever

remain a mystery, I think. However, I shall pass on now to other

matters, for truly we have had enough of these disgusting horrors.

[Footnote: One of the most inveterately rooted of our

superstitions is this belief in the existence of man-wolves. Ovid

mentions it in his Lycaon, and even Herodotus. Many modern

examples are given in Dr. Weggand's natural history, which book I

recommend to all lovers of the marvellous, for they will find much

in it which far surpasses what we have related above concerning

Sidonia. The belief in a vampire, which Lord Byron has clothed

with his genius, belongs to the same order of superstitions; and

Horst, in his Magic Library, furnishes some very curious remarks

concerning it. Even Luther himself believed in the possibility of

such existences.]

CHAPTER XII.

How Jobst Bork has himself carried to Marienfliess in his bed,

to reclaim his fair young daughter Diliana--Item, how George

Putkammer threatens Sidonia with a drawn sword.

Now Jobst Bork of Saatzig had but this one daughter, the fair

Diliana, whom he loved ten times more than his life; and no sooner

had he heard of her flight than he guessed readily whither, and

for what cause, she had flown; for, that day and night her

thoughts were bent on how to help him, he knew well; also, the

teachings of old Lisa were not unknown to him. So he resolved to

go and seek her, and sent for twelve peasants to carry him, as he

was, in his bed, to Marienfliess, for his limbs were so contracted

from gout that he could neither ride, walk, nor stand.

Accordingly, next morning early, the twelve peasants bearing the

couch on which lay the poor knight, entered the great gate of the

convent, and they set down the bed, by command of the knight, just

beneath Sidonia's window. Whereupon the miserable father stretched

forth his right hand, and cried out, as loud as he was able,

"Sidonia Bork, I conjure you by the living God, give me my child

again!"

Three times he repeated this adjuration. So we may imagine how the

whole convent ran together to see who was there. Anna Apenborg and

Diliana were, however, not amongst them, for they had been up late

watching by the corpse, and were still fast asleep; item,

Sidonia, I think, was snoring likewise, for she never appeared,

until at last she threw up the window, half-dressed, and screamed

out, "What wants the cursed knave? Hath the devil possessed you,

Jobst, in earnest? Good people, take the fellow to Dorothea's

cell--they are fit company for one another!"

But the knight again stretched forth his trembling arm from the

bed, and repeated his adjuration solemnly, using the same words.

At this, Sidonia's face glowed with anger; and seizing her

broom-stick, she rushed out of the room, down the steps, and into

the courtyard, while her long, thin, white hair flew wildly about

her face and shoulders, and her red eyes glared like two red coals

in her head. (I have omitted to notice that this horrible Satan's

hag had long since got his signature in her red eyes; for, as the

slaves of vice are known by their ash-pale colour, and the

black circle round their eyes, so the slaves of Satan are

known by the red circle.) But when the evil witch reached

the spot where the sick knight lay on his bed, and saw the crowd

standing round him, she changed her demeanour, and leaning on the

broom-stick, exclaimed, "Methinks, Jobst, you are mad; and you and

your daughter ought to be put at once into a mad-house; for, judge

all of ye who stand here round us, how unjustly I am accused.

Yesterday this man's daughter comes to me, and says she will play

my serving-wench, if I promise to cure her father; just as if I

were the Lord God, and could heal sickness as I willed; but I

refused to take her, as was meet, and the whole convent can

testify this of me; when, see now, here comes this fool of a

father, and, taking the Lord's name in vain, demands his daughter

of me, though I never had her, nor detained her; and she can go

this moment whither she likes, as ye all know."

Hereupon the abbess herself advanced to the bed, and spake--"In

truth, you err, sir knight. Sidonia hath refused to accept your

daughter's service! But here comes the fair maiden herself--ask

her if it is not so."

And Diliana, who had thrown on her clothes in haste, and ran with

Anna out of her cell, sprang forward, and fell sobbing upon her

father's bosom, who sobbed likewise, and cries, in an agitated

voice, "God be thanked, I have thee again; now I shall die happy!

Ah! silly child, how couldst thou run away from me! Dearest!--my

heart's dearest!--my own joy-giving Diliana! ah, leave me not

again before I die--it will not be long, perhaps."

Here the weeping of the peasants interrupted him, for they loved

the good knight dearly, and the rude boors sobbed, and blew their

noses, in great affliction, like so many children. But the knight

was too proud to beg a cure from Sidonia; he would rather

die--better death than humiliation. So he spake--"Children, lift

me up again, in the name of God, and bear me home; and thou, my

Diliana, walk thou by my side, sweet girl, that my eyes may not

lose thee for an instant."

So the peasants lifted up the bed again on their shoulders; but

Diliana exclaimed, "Wait, ah, my heart's dearest father, you do

our good cousin Sidonia sore injustice. Only think, she has

promised to cure you, without any recompense at all! Is it not

true, dear cousin? Set the bed down again, good vassals! Is it not

true, dear cousin?"

As she thus spoke, and kissed the claws of the horrible hell-wolf

with her beautiful bright lips, such an expression of rage and

unutterable hatred passed over Sidonia's face, that all, even the

peasants, shuddered with horror, and nearly let the bed fall from

their trembling hands; but the fair young girl was unaware of it,

for she was bending down upon the hand of the evil sorceress.

However, my hag soon composed herself; and, no doubt, fearing the

vengeance of Duke Francis, or hoping perhaps to cover her evil

deeds by this one public act of charity, and so gain a good name

before the world, and the fair opinion of their Highnesses, to

whom she had written the day previous, she rested her arm once

more upon the broom-stick, and turning to the crowd, thus spake--

"Ye shall see now that Sidonia hath a truly Christian heart in her

bosom; for, by the help of God, I will try and heap coals of fire

upon mine enemy's head. Yes, he is mine enemy. None have

persecuted me more than he and his race, though, God be good to

me, it is my own race likewise. His false father was the first to

malign me, and yet more guilty was his still falser mother; but

God punished her hypocrisy with a just judgment, for she died in

child-birth of him, so true is it what the Scripture says, 'The

Lord abhors both the bloodthirsty and deceitful man.' Ah, she was

deceitful beyond all I have met with upon earth--also, this her

son, the false Clara's son, hath made my nephew, Otto of Stramehl,

in a traitorous and unknightly manner, give him up my two

farm-houses at Zachow, and he now refuses to restore me either my

farms or the rents thereto belonging."

Here Jobst cried out, "'Tis false, Sidonia! I shall say nothing of

thy statements respecting my parents, for all who knew them

testify that they were righteous and honourable their life long,

therefore let them rest in their graves; but as touching thy

farm-houses, thou shalt have them back, as I have already written

to thee. The accumulated rents, however, thou canst not have, for

it were a strange and unjust thing, truly, to demand fifty years'

rent from me, who have only been in possession of the farms for

half a year."

"What! thou unjust knave," screamed Sidonia furiously; but then

suddenly strangled the wrath in her throat with a convulsion, as

if a wolf were gulping a bone, and continued--"It may be a hard

struggle to help one of thy name, but I remember the words of my

heavenly Bridegroom (oh, that the horrible blasphemy did not choke

her), 'I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse

you, do good to them that hate you;' and so, Jobst Bork, I will do

good to thee out of my herbal, if the merciful God will assist my

efforts, as I hope."

Then she turned her hypocritical, Satanic eyes up to heaven,

sighed, and stepping to the bed, murmured some words; then asked,

"How is it with thee now, Jobst? is there ease already?"

"Oh yes, good cousin," he answered, "I am better, much better,

thanks, good cousin! Lift me up again, children, and bear me

homeward--I thank thee, cousin!" and with these words he was borne

out of the convent gates, the fair young Diliana following him

closely; and scarcely had they left the town and reached the moor,

when the knight called out from the bed, "Oh, it is true, my own

dear daughter--praise be to God, I am indeed better; but I am so

weary!"

And he sank back almost immediately into a deep sleep, which

continued till they reached the castle of Saatzig, and the bearers

laid the bed down again in its old place in the knight's

chamber--still he woke not.

Then Diliana kneeled down beside him, and thanked the Lord with

burning tears; sprang up again quickly, and bade them saddle her

palfrey, for she must ride away, but would return again before a

couple of hours. If her father woke up in the meantime, let them

say he must not be uneasy, for that she would return soon and tell

him herself whither and on what errand she had been.

Hereupon she went to a large cabinet that stood in her father's

chamber, took out a little casket containing three golden rings,

mounted her palfrey, and rode back with all speed on the road to

Marienfliess. But I must here relate how these magic golden rings

came into possession of the family; the tradition runs as

follows:--

A long while ago the castle of Pansin, which had originally

belonged to the Knights Templars, became a fief of the Bork

family, and the Count who was then in possession went to the wars

in the Holy Land, leaving his fair young wife alone in her sorrow:

and lo! one night, as she was weeping bitterly, a spirit appeared

in her chamber, and motioned her to rise from bed and follow him

to the castle garden. But she was horror-struck, and crept

trembling under the quilt. Next night the ghost again stood by her

bed, made the same gestures even menacingly, but she was

frightened, and hid her head beneath the clothes.

The third night brought the ghost likewise; but this time the fair

lady took courage, rose from bed, and followed him in silence down

the steps into the castle garden, on to a small island, where the

two streams, the Ihna and the Krampehl, meet. Here there was a

large fire, and around it many spirits were seated. Hereupon her

ghost spake--

"Fear nothing, but fill thy apron with coals from the fire, and

return to the castle; but, I warn thee, do not look back."

The fair chatelaine did as she was desired, filled her apron, and

returned to the castle; but all the way, close behind her, there

was a terrible uproar, and the rushing and roaring as of many

people. However, she never looked back, only on reaching the

castle gates she thought she might take one peep round just as she

was closing them; but, lo! instantly her apron was rent, and the

coals fell hither and thither on the ground, and out of all she

could only save three pieces, with which she rushed on to her own

apartment, never again looking behind her, though the uproar

continued close to her very heels all the way up to her chamber

door; and trembling with dread, and commending herself to all the

saints, she at last threw herself on her bed once more in safety.

But next morning, on looking for the coals, she found three golden

rings in their stead bearing strange inscriptions, which no man

hath been able to decipher until this day. As to those she had

dropped at the castle gate, they were nowhere to be seen; and on

the fourth night the ghost comes again, and scolds her for

disobeying his orders, but admonishes her to preserve the three

rings safely, for if she lost one, a great misfortune would fall

upon the village, and the castle be rent violently--item,

but two of her race would ever be alive at the same time; if the

second were lost, her race would be reduced to direst poverty; and

if the third ring were lost, the race would disappear entirely

from the earth.

After this, when her knightly spouse returned from Jerusalem, and

she told him the wonderful story of the three rings, he had a

costly casket made for them, in which they were safely locked,

with a rose of Jericho placed above them, which he had himself

brought from the Holy Land; and this wonderful treasure has been

preserved by the Count's descendants with jealous care, even until

this day. I have said that no man could read the inscriptions on

the rings: they were all the same--the three as like as the leaves

of a trefoil. They were all large enough for the largest man's

thumb, and made of the purest crown gold: the shield was of a

circular form, bearing in the centre the figure of a Knight

Templar in full armour, with spur and shield, keeping watch before

the Temple at Jerusalem; but what the characters around the figure

signified, I leave unsaid, and many, I am thinking, will leave

unsaid likewise. [Footnote: It is a fact, that no one up to the

present time has been able to decipher this very remarkable

inscription, not even Silvestre de Sacy himself, to whom it was

sent some years ago. Dreger's reading, given in Daehnert's

Pomeranian Library, iv. p. 295, is manifestly wrong--Ordo

Hierosolymitamis. But two of the rings are forthcoming now;

and in fulfilment of the tradition, a tremendous rent really

followed the loss of the first in the old castle of Pansin, which

may yet be seen in this fine ruin, whose like is not to be found

in all Pomerania, nor, indeed, in the north of Germany. The two

remaining rings, with the rose of Jericho, are still to be seen in

the original casket, which is of curious and costly workmanship,

and this casket is again enclosed in another of iron, with strong

hoops and clasps. Should any of my readers desire to discover the

meaning of the inscription, he will do me the highest favour by

communicating the same to me.]

In summa.--When Diliana arrived with these rings, the poor

Dorothea lay again in the devil's fetters. She roared, and

screamed, and raged horribly, and tore her bed-clothes, and foamed

at the mouth, and even abused and reviled the beautiful young

virgin, who took, however, no heed thereof, but with permission of

the abbess laid the three rings upon the stomach of the sick nun,

who immediately became quite still, and so lay for a little while,

after which, with a loud roar, Satan went out of her, while the

windows clattered and the glasses rang upon the table. Then she

fell into a deep sleep, and on awakening remembered nothing of

what had happened, but seeing Diliana prepared to set out on her

homeward ride, asked with wonder, "Who is this strange young

maiden, and what does she here?"

After this, as I may as well briefly notice here, Dorothea became

quite well, and by the mercy of God remained for ever after

untouched by the demon claws of the great enemy of mankind.

Meanwhile the good Diliana felt it to be her duty to descend to

the refectory, and thank the hell-dragon for the refreshing sleep

which her father, Jobst, had obtained by her means. But, ah! how

does she find my dragon? Her eyes shoot fire and flame, and in an

instant she flew at poor Diliana on the subject of marriage--

"What! she wanted to marry too! She was scarcely out of school,

and yet already was thinking about marriage!"

"Good cousin," answered the other, "I have indeed no thoughts of

marriage, and no desire for it has ever entered my heart."

"What!" screamed my dragon; "you lie to me, child! The whole

convent talks of it; and Anna Apenborg herself told me that you

are betrothed to that beardless boy George Putkammer. Fie! a

fellow without a beard."

Hereupon she began to spit out. But George Putkammer that instant

clattered up the steps; for the news had come to Pansin, of which

castle Jobst Bork had made him castellan, seeing that he set much

store by the brave young knight, and would willingly have had him

for his son-in-law, if his fair little daughter Diliana had not

resisted his entreaties, bis dalo; the news came, I say,

now that Diliana had run away from her father, and gone to play

the serving-wench to Sidonia. So the knight seized his good sword,

and went forth, like another Perseus, to save his Andromeda, and

deliver her from the dragon, even if his own life were to pay the

cost. He knew not that the damning dragon despised the service of

the mild, innocent girl, nor that Jobst Bork had gone to offer

himself as a sacrifice in her place.

So he clattered up the steps, dashed open the door, and finding

Sidonia in the very act of spitting out, he drew his sword, and

roared--

"Dare to touch even a finger of that angel beside thee, and thy

black toad's blood shall rust upon this sword."

And when Sidonia started back alarmed, he continued--

"O Diliana, much loved and beautiful maiden, what does my queen

here? Where have you heard that the angels of God seek help and

shelter from the devil, as you have done here? Return with me to

Saatzig, and, by my faith, some other means shall make this vile

wretch help your poor father."

Sidonia now screamed with rage--

"What wants this silly varlet here, this beardless young

profligate? Ha, youngster, thou shalt pay for thy bold, saucy

tongue!"

Ille.--"Hold thy accursed mouth, or I will give thee such a

blow that thou shalt never need it again, but to groan. Listen,

cursed beast of hell, and mark my words. Since our gracious Lord

of Stettin handles thee so gently, and lets thee heap evil upon

evil at thine own vile will, I and another noble have sworn

solemnly to rid the land from such a curse. Let it cost our lives

or not, we shall avenge our country in thy blood, unless thou

ceasest to work all thy diabolical wickedness. Now, therefore,

hear me. Delay one instant to heal the upright Jobst and to remove

thy accursed witch-spell from off him, and this sword shall take a

bloody revenge; or if but a finger ache of this beautiful maiden

here, thy death is certain. Think not to escape. Thou mayst lame

me, like Jobst or Wedel, or murder me as others, it will not help

thee; for my friend hath sworn, if such happen, that he will ride

straight to Marienfliess, and run his sword through thy body

without a word. Two horses stand, day and night, ready saddled in

my stall, and in a quarter of an hour we are here--he or I, it

matters not, whichever is left alive, or both together, and we

shall hew thee from head to foot, even as I hew this jar in two

that stands upon the table, so that human hand shall never lift it

more."

So saying, he struck the jar with his sword, when it flew into a

thousand pieces, and the beer dashed over the hag's clothes, so

that she raised a cry of terror, for such speech had no man ever

yet dared to hold to her.

But the brave Diliana seized hold of the young knight's sword,

crying--

"For God's sake, sir knight, what mean you? You do my good cousin

sore injustice; I have never seen you thus before. Sidonia hath

declined to take me for her maid, and has helped my poor father,

of her own free will, for he was here yesterday, and now rests

safe in Saatzig in a deep and healthful sleep; for which cause I

come hither to thank my good cousin for her kindness. Where is

your justice, sir knight--your honour? Bethink you how often you

have extolled these noble virtues yourself to me!"

As the knight listened, and heard that her father was already

cured, he marvelled greatly; inquired all the particulars, but

shook his head at the end, saying--

"'A corrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit, and figs are not

to be gathered from thorns.' That she has helped your father, I

take as no sign of her kindness, but of her fear; therefore my

resolve stands good. Sidonia, thou accursed hag, touch but one

finger of this maiden or her father, and I will hew thee in

pieces, even as I cleft this jar. But you, fair lady, permit me to

ride home with you to your father's castle, and see how it stands

with the brave knight's health, and whether he has in truth been

cured."

Meanwhile Sidonia hath spat forth again, and begins running like a

wild cat in her rage round the room, so that her kerchief falls

off, and her two sharp, dry, ash-coloured shoulder-bones stick up

to sight, like pegs for hanging baskets on; and she curses and

blasphemes the young knight and his whole race, who, however,

cares little for her wrath, but gently taking Diliana by the hand,

said tenderly--

"Come, dear lady, come from this hell-hole, and leave the old

dragon to dance and rage at her pleasure, as much as she likes."

The lady, however, withdrew her hand, saying, "Ride back alone to

Saatzig, sir knight! It is not seemly for a young maiden to ride

through the wood with a young man alone. Besides, I must stay a

little, and comfort my poor cousin for all your hard words--see

how you have vexed her!"

But Sidonia paused, and laughed loud and long, mocking the young

knight's disappointment; so after he had again prayed the maiden

in vain to accompany him, he left the refectory in silence, sprang

upon his barb, and rode on to the wood, resolving to wait there

till Diliana came up.

And in truth he had to wait long. At last, however, she appeared

through the trees, and on seeing him she was angry, and bade him

ride his ways. So my knight entreats for the love of God that she

will listen to him, for he can no longer live without her. By day

and by night her image floats before him, and wherefore should she

be so hard and cruel-hearted towards him? Better to have let him

die at once under the hands of the murderers in the forest, than

to let him die daily and hourly before her eyes, of the bitter

love-death. Was he, then, really such an object of abhorrence to

her, such a fire in her eyes? Alas! alas! could she but know his

torments!"

"Sir knight," she answered, "you are no fire in my eyes, unless it

be the cold fire of the moon. Have patience, sir knight; why do

you press me for a promise when you have heard my resolve?"

Ille.--"Patience! How could he have patience longer? Ah!

her father had long since consented, but she was but as the moon

in the brook to the child who tries to lay hold of it, since she

had talked of the moon."

Haec.--"Sir knight, you compel me to a confidence."

Ille. (riding up close to her palfrey).--"Speak! dearest

Diliana."

Haec (drawing back).--"Come no nearer. What if any one saw

us. Listen! Yesterday six weeks, my grandmother, Clara von Dewitz,

who died, as you know, giving birth to my father, appeared to me

in a dream. She was wrapped in a bloody shroud, and her eyes were

starting forth horribly from her head, when I shuddered with

terror, and the poor ghost spoke--'Diliana, I am Clara von Dewitz,

and thou art the one selected to avenge me, provided thou dost

keep thy virgin honour pure in thought, word, and deed!' With

this she disappeared, and now, sir knight, judge for yourself what

is henceforth my duty."

Now the knight tried to laugh her out of her belief in this ghost

story, said it was all fancy, the same had often happened to

himself; not once, but a hundred times, had he seen a ghost, as he

thought, but found out afterwards there was no ghost at all in the

business, &c. However, his words and smiles have no effect. She

knew what she knew, and whether she was deceived or not about this

apparition of her grandmother, time would show, and bis

dalo, she would remain obedient to her commands, and preserve

her virgin honour pure in thought, word, and deed, even if it were

to be for her life long, until she saw clearly what purpose God

destined her to accomplish.

Now as my poor knight began his solicitations again yet more

earnestly, the fair maiden drew herself up gravely, and said,

"Adieu! sir knight, ride your own path, I go mine! At present I

shall select no spouse; but if I ever give my hand to man, you

shall be the selected one, sir knight, and no other. Now return to

your own castle. If you wish to see my father, come to-morrow to

Saatzig, for I shall ride there alone now. Farewell!"

And off she cantered on her palfrey, hop, hop, hop, as fast as an

arrow from a bow, and her red feathers gleamed through the green

leaves of the forest trees, so that my knight stood watching, her,

filled with as much joy as sorrow, for the maiden now seemed to

him so beautiful, and he watched her as long as a glimpse of her

feathers could be had through the trees, and then he listened as

long as the tramp of her palfrey could be heard (for he told me

this himself), then he alighted, and kneeling down, prayed to God

the Lord to bless this beautiful darling of his heart, whilst he

sobbed like a child, for sorrow and the sweet anguish of love.

Then he rose up, and obedient to her commands, took his way back

to the stately castle of Pansin.

But next morning early, he was at Saatzig, where the good knight

Jobst receives him joyfully at table, quite restored to health.

Nor has aught evil happened to the beautiful Diliana, as the

knight feared from the spitting of Sidonia. However, he heard from

the maiden, that after he left the refectory, Sidonia spat a

second time, probably to remove the first witch-spell (for no

doubt she feared the knight would hold his word, and hew her in

pieces if aught evil happened to the fair young maiden). And for

the rest, the knight ceased to trouble Diliana with his

solicitations; but he made father and daughter promise to give him

instant notice if but a finger ached, and he would instantly find

one sure way to bind the wild beast of Marienfliess for ever,

namely, with his good sword.

CHAPTER XIII.

How my gracious Lord Bishop Franciscus and the reverend Dr.

Joel go to the Jews' school at Old Stettin, in order to steal the

Schem Hamphorasch, and how the enterprise finishes with a sound

cudgelling.

Meanwhile my gracious Duke Francis was puzzling his brain, day and

night, how best to bind this malicious dragon, and hinder her from

utterly destroying his whole race. He wanted to effect, by the

agency of spirits, what George Putkammer had already effected by

his good sword, as we have related before. So his Highness must

needs send for Dr. Joel, in all haste, to Old Stettin, to ask him

whether it were not possible to break the power of the evil witch

by spiritual agency; for as to human, it was out of the question,

since no one could be found to lay hands on her. They would as

soon touch the bodily Satan himself.

Whereupon my magister answered, that he had already, to

serve his Grace, consulted divers spirits as to what could be done

in this sore strait, but none would undertake a contest with

Sidonia's spirit, which was powerful and strong, and, acting in

concert always with the spirit of old Wolde, had the might in

himself, as it were, of two demons. For this reason they must try

two modes of casting out the evil thing. The first was to exorcise

the sun-spirit, according to the form in the Clavicula

Salomonis, for he was the most powerful of all the astral

spirits, and question him as to what should be done. But for this

conjuration a pure young virgin was necessary, not merely pure in

act, but in thought, in soul. Even her very garments must be woven

by a virgin's hands, otherwise the holy angels, who neither marry

nor are given in marriage, would not appear. For they obey only

the summons of one who is as pure as themselves, in body and in

soul. Such a being he had once possessed in his only little

daughter, a virgin of eighteen years. All her clothes had been

spun and woven by virgin hands, and as she had a brave spirit, she

had often helped him to cite the astral angel Och. But the

last time she had assisted at the conjuration, the angel himself

had strangled her with his own hands, twisting her neck so

horribly that her tongue hung out of her mouth. And thus she died

before his very face. The cause was, as he, poor father, had heard

afterwards, that she had suffered a young student to kiss her, and

so the pure virginity of her soul was lost. Now if the gracious

Prince knew of any such pure virgin, who besides must be brave and

courageous as an amazon, matters would proceed easily, they would

make an end of the demon Sidonia without the least difficulty. He

had the clothes ready, all spun by virgins; item, all the

necessary instruments.

So my gracious Prince sits and thinks awhile, then shakes his

head, and says, laughing, "Methinks such a virgin were rarer than

a white raven. It would be easy to find one pure in form, but a

virgin pure in soul--and then as brave as Deborah and Judith. Mag.

Joel, such a virgin, methinks, is not to be had, and you did evil

to put your poor little daughter to such a test. For woman-flesh

is a weak flesh since the day of Eve, as we all know. But you

talked of a second mode: what is it? Let me hear."

Hereupon the magister sighed for grief, wiped his eyes, and

spake--"Ah, yes! you are right, my good lord. Fool that I was, I

might have had my little daughter still, for though she only

allowed the student to kiss her, yet by that one kiss the pure

mirror of her soul was dimmed, and before the angels of God she

was henceforth unholy. However, as touching the second method, it

is the Schem Hamphorasch, through which all things are possible."

The Duke.--"What is the Schem Hamphorasch?"

Ille.--"The seventy names of the Most High and ever-blessed

God, according to the seventy nations, and the seventy tongues,

and the seventy elders of Moses, and the seventy disciples of

Christ, and the seventy weeks of Daniel. To him who knows this

name, the holy God will appear again as He did aforetime in the

days of the patriarchs."

The Duke.--"You are raving, good Joel; yet--but how can

this be possible?"

Ille.--"I am not raving, gracious Prince; for tell me,

wherefore is it that the great God does not appear to men now as

He did in times long past? I answer, because we no longer know His

name. This name, or the Schem Hamphorasch, Adam knew in Paradise,

and therefore spake with God, as well as with all animals and

plants. Noah, Abraham, Moses, Elijah, &c.--all knew this name, and

performed their wonders by it alone. But when the beastly and

idolatrous Jews gave themselves over to covetousness and all

uncleanness, they forgot this holy name; so, as a punishment, they

endured a year of slavery for each of the seventy names which they

had forgotten; and we find them, therefore, serving seventy years

in Babylonian bonds. After this they never learned it again, and

all miracles and wonders ceased from amongst them, until the

ever-blessed God sent His Son into the world, to teach them once

more the revelation of the Schem Hamphorasch; and to all who

believed on Him He freely imparted this name, by which also they

worked wonders; and that it might be fixed for ever in their

hearts, He taught them the blessed Pater Noster, in which they

were bid each day to repeat the words, 'Hallowed be Thy name.'

Yea, even in that last glorious high-priestly prayer of His--in

face of the bitter anguish and death that was awaiting Him, He

says, 'Father, keep them in Thy name;' or, as Luther translates

it, 'Keep them above Thy name.' For how easily this name is lost,

we learn from David, who says that he spelt it over in the night,

so that it might not pass from his mind (Psalm cxix. 55).

Item, after the resurrection, He gave command to go and

baptize all nations-not in the name of the Father, of the Son, and

of the Holy Ghost, as Luther has falsely rendered the passage, but

for, or by, the name-that such might always be kept

before their eyes, and never more pass away from the knowledge of

mankind. And the holy apostles faithfully kept it, and St. Paul

made it known to the heathen, as we learn (Acts ix, 15). And all

miracles that they performed were by this name. Now the knowledge

remained also with the early Christians, and each person was

baptized by this name; and he who knew it by heart could

work miracles likewise, as we know by Justin Martyr and others,

who have written of the power and miraculous gifts of the early

Church. But when the pure doctrine became corrupted, and the

Christian Church (like the Jewish of former times) gave itself up

to idolatry, masses, image-worship, and the like, the knowledge of

the mystic name was withdrawn, and all miracles have ceased in the

Church from that up to this day."

While Magister Joel so spake, his Highness Duke Francis fell into

a deep fit of musing. At last he exclaimed, "Good Joel, you are a

fanatic, an enthusiast--surely we know the name of God; or what

hinders us from knowing it?"

Ille.--"You err, my gracious Prince, for this name is the

holy and mystic Tetragrammaton, 'Jehovah,' which is the

chief and highest name of God, and which truly is found written in

the Scriptures; but of the true pronunciation of the name no man

knoweth at this day, for the letters J H V H are wanting in all

the old manuscripts." [Footnote: For those who are unacquainted

with Hebrew, I shall just observe here, that, in fact, the proper

pronunciation of the name "Jehovah" is a vexed question with the

learned up to this hour. Ewald, one of the latest authorities, and

who has taken much trouble in investigating the subject, says,

that there is the highest probability that the word should be

pronounced "Jahve," signifying, He who should come

(hoxrcho'menos), for which reason the Baptist's disciples asked

Christ (Matt. xi. 13), "Art Thou He who should come?"--namely, the

Messias, Jahve, or, as we call it, Jehovah. Compare Heb. x. 37;

Hagg. ii. 6, 7; Rev. i. 8. I must observe, next, that all the

Theophanisms (God manifestations) recorded in the Old Testament,

to which the theosophistic, cabalistic Dr. Joel refers, were

considered by the earty Christian fathers as manifestations to the

senses, not of God--whom no man hath seen or can see--but

of the asarchos Christ. Even the elder rabbins understand, in

these Theophanisms, not God, but the Mediator between God

and the world--the angel Metatron. For the rest, I need scarcely

remark that the exegesis of Dr. Joel is false throughout. The

Bible has been so tortured to support each man's individual,

strange, crude dogma, that it is no wonder even Protestants are

falling back upon tradition as the best and surest

interpreter of Scripture, and the clearest light to read it by.]

Magister Joel continues--"But be comforted; there were some

faithful souls on the earth, who did not entirely lose the

remembrance of the Schem Hamphorasch; and your Highness will

wonder to hear, that even in this very town the secret exists, in

the possession of an old man, who has it, really and truly, locked

up in his trunk, though, I confess, he is as great a rogue himself

as ever breathed."

Hereupon his Grace jumped up, and embraced the magister.

"Let him not spare the gold; only bring him this treasure. How

could it be done? How did the man get it? Let him tell the whole

story."

Ille.--"It was a long story; but he would just give it in

brief:--A Jew out of Anklam, named Benjamin, went on a pilgrimage

to Jerusalem; and having suffered great hardships and distress by

the way, was taken in and sheltered by a hermit, in the desert,

who converted and baptized him. The Jew stayed with the old hermit

till he died; and the old man, as a costly legacy, left him the

Schem Hamphorasch, written on seventy palm-leaves. But as Benjamin

could not read a word of Hebrew, he resolved to return home to

Pomerania, where his mother's brother lived-the Rabbi Reuben Ben

Joachai, of Stettin. However, when he presented himself, poor and

naked as he was, at his uncle's door, the rabbi pushed him away,

and shut the door in his face the moment he said he had a favour

to ask of him. This treatment so afflicted Benjamin that he took

ill on his return to the inn; but having nothing wherewith to pay

the host, he sent a message to his uncle, the rabbi, bidding him

come to him, as he had a secret to impart.

"When the rabbi arrived, Benjamin asked, 'What he would give for

the Schem Hamphorasch, for people told him that it was the

greatest of all treasures?--to him, however, it was useless, since

he could not read Hebrew.'

"Hereat the rabbi's eyes sparkled; he took the palm-leaves in his

hand, and seeing that all was correct, offered a ducat for the

whole; this Benjamin refused. Whereupon, after many cunning

efforts to possess himself of it, which were all in vain, the

rabbi had to depart without the treasure. However, Benjamin,

suspecting that he would come back for it in a little while, cut

out two of the leaves from revenge, and when my knave of a rabbi

returned, he sold him the incomplete copy for five ducats at last.

"This same Benjamin I (the magister) attended afterwards in

hospital when he was dying, and as the poor wretch had no money,

he gave me himself, upon his death-bed, the two abstracted

palm-leaves out of gratitude, being all he had to offer. These two

are now in my possession, and if we could only obtain the other

portion, your Highness would have the holy and mystic Schem

Hamphorasch complete. But how to get it? Gold he had already

offered in vain to the Jew, Rabbi Reuben, who even denied having

the Schem Hamphorasch at all; but his servant, Meir, for a good

bribe, told him in confidence that his master, the rabbi, really

and in truth had this treasure, though the knave denied the fact

to him. It lay in a drawer in the Jewish school, beside the book

of the law or the Thora, and my magister thought they might

manage to gain admittance some night into the Jews' school by

bribing the man Meir well. Then they could easily possess

themselves of the Schem Hamphorasch (which indeed was of no use to

the old knave of a rabbi), for the drawer could be known at once

by the tapestry which hung before it, in imitation of the veil of

the Temple. If they once had the treasure, the angel Metatron

would appear to them, the mightiest of all angels, and his

Highness could not only obtain his protection against the devil's

magic of the sorceress of Marienfliess, but also induce him to

look graciously upon his Grace's dear spouse, whom this evil

dragon had bewitched, as all the world saw plainly, so that she

remained childless, as well as all the other dukes and duchesses

of dear Pomerania land, who were rendered barren and unfruitful

likewise by some demon spell."

Hereupon his Grace cried out with joy, "True, true! I will make

him do all that; and when I obtain the Schem Hamphorasch I will

learn it myself by heart, and repeat it day and night like King

David, so that it never shall go out of my head--item, all

priests in the land shall learn it by heart; and I will gather

them together three times a year at Camyn, and hear them myself,

man by man, repeat this said Schem Hamphorasch, so that never more

can it pass from the memory of our Church, as it did from that of

the filthy Jews, or the impure Christians of the Papacy."

Summa.--The rabbi's servant, Meir, is bribed, and he

promises to admit them both next night into the Jews' school, for

there was to be a meeting there of the elders, and his master, the

said Rabbi Reuben Ben Joachai, was to examine a moranu or

teacher. They could conceal themselves in the women's gallery,

where no one would discover them, and after every one had gone,

slip down and take what they pleased out of the drawer, then make

off, for he would leave the door open for them--that was all he

could do--his master might come, &c.

So all was done as agreed upon; the Prince and Mag. Joel crept up

to the women's gallery, in which were little bull's-eyes, through

which they could see clearly all that was going on; and scarcely

were the candles lit when my knave of a rabbi enters (he was a

long, dry carl, with a white beard, and ragged coat bound round

the waist with a girdle); item, the candidate, I think he

was called David, a little man, with curly red beard, and long red

locks falling down at each side upon his breast; item,

seven elders, and they place themselves in their great hats round

a table. Then the Rabbi Reuben demands of the candidate to pay his

dues first, for a knave had lately run away without paying them at

all; the dues were ten ducats.

When the candidate had reckoned down the gold, Rabbi Reuben

commenced to question him in Hebrew; whereupon the other excused

himself, said he knew Hebrew, but could not answer in it; prayed,

therefore, the master would conduct the examination in German.

Hereupon my knave of a rabbi looked grave, seemed to think that

would be impossible, consulted with the elders, and finally asked

them, if the candidate David paid down each of them two ducats,

and ten to himself, would they consent to have the examination

conducted in the language of the German sow? Would they consent to

this, out of great charity and mercy to the candidate David?

"Yea, yea--even so let it be," screamed the elders; "God is

merciful likewise."

So my David again unbuttoned his coat, and reckoned down the fine;

whereupon the examination began in German, and I shall here note

part of it down, that all men may know what horrible blindness and

folly has fallen upon the Jews, by permission of the Lord God,

since they imprecated the blood of Christ upon their own heads.

Not even amongst the blindest of the heathen have such base, low,

grovelling superstitions and dogmas been discovered as these

accursed Jews have forged for themselves since the dispersion, and

collected in the Talmud. Well may the blessed Luther say, "If a

Christian seeks instruction in the Scripture from a Jew, what else

is it than seeking sight from the blind, reason from the mad, life

from the dead, grace and truth from the devil?"

And this madness and blindness of the accursed race would never

have been fully known, only that the examination was held in

German (for in general it is conducted in Hebrew, to please the

vain Jews), by which means the Prince and Doctor Joel heard every

word, and wrote it all down on their return home; and when

afterwards his Highness Duke Francis succeeded to the government,

he banished this rabbi and the elders, with their whole forge of

blasphemy and lies, for ever from his capital.

Here, therefore, are some of the most remarkable questions; but I

must premise that K. means my Knave, namely, the rabbi, and C. the

Candidates. [Footnote: Lest my reader might think that what

follows is a malicious invention of my own to bring the Jews into

disrepute, I shall add the precise page of the Talmud from which

each question is taken (from Eisenmenger's "Judaism Unveiled,"

Koenigsberg, 1711, and other sources). The Jews, I know, endeavour

to deny that they hold these doctrines; but it is nevertheless

quite true that all their learned men who have been converted to

Christianity since the time of the Reformation confessed that

these dogmas were intimately woven into their belief, and formed

its groundwork.]

K.--"Which is holier, the Talmud or the Scriptures?"

C.--"I think the Talmud."

K.--"Wherefore, wherefore?"

C.--"Because Raf Aschi hath said, he who goes from the

Halacha (the Talmudical teaching) to the Scripture will have no

more luck; [Footnote: Talmud, tract. Chagiga, fol. X. col. I. Raf

Aschi, the author the Gemara, a portion of the Talmud.] and good

luck we all prize dearly above all things--eh, my master?"

K.--"Right, right. Who is he like who reads only in the

Scripture, and not in the Talmud? What say our fathers of blessed

memory?"

C.--"They say that he is like one who has no God."

[Footnote: Talmud, tract. Eruvin.]

K.--"Can the holy and ever-blessed One sin? What is the

greatest sin He has committed?"

C.--"First; He made the moon smaller than the sun."

K.--"Our rabbis of blessed memory are doubtful upon this

point, as Jonathan, the son of Usiel, says, in the Targum of

Moses. [Footnote: The ancient Chaldee paraphrase of the Old

Testament is called Targum by the Jews. It is split into the

Jerusalemitan, and the Babylonian Targum.] But which is the

greatest sin of all that the holy and ever-blessed One committed?"

C.--"I think it was when He forswore himself. [Footnote:

Talmud, tract. Sanhedrin.] For He first swore, saith Rabbi

Eliaser, that the children of Israel, who were wandering in the

desert, should have no part in eternal life; and then His oath lay

heavy on Him, so that He got the angel Mi to absolve Him

therefrom."

K.--"It was, in truth, a great sin, but a greater,

methinks, was, that He created the accursed Nazarene--the

Jesu--the idol of the children of Edom. I mean the Christ."

C.--"Rabbi, that is not in the Talmud."

K.--"Fool! it is the same. I have said it, therefore

it is true. Knowest thou not, when a rabbi says, 'This thy right

hand is thy left, and this thy left hand is thy right,' thou must

believe it, or thou wilt be dammed?" [Footnote: Targum upon Deut.

xvii. 11.]

Here all the elders cried out--

"Yea, yea; the word of a rabbi is more to be esteemed than the

words of the law, and their words are more beautiful than the

words of the prophets, for they are words of the living God."

[Footnote: Talmud, tract. Sanhedrin.]

K.--"Now answer--what says the Talmud of that Adam Belial,

that Jesu, that crucified, of whom the Christians say that he was

God?"

C.--"That he was the son of an evil woman, who learned

sorcery in Egypt, and he hid the sorcery in his flesh, in a wound

which he made therein, and with the magic he deceived the people,

and turned them from God. He practised idolatry with a baked

stone, and prostrated himself before his own idol; and finally, as

a fit punishment, he was first stoned to death, upon the eve of

the passover, and then hung up upon a cross made of a

cabbage-stalk, after which, Onkelos, the fallen Titus' sister's

son, conjured him up out of hell." [Footnote: Although the Jews

deny that Christ is named in the Talmud, saying that another Jesus

is meant, yet Eisenmenger has fully proved the contrary, on the

most convincing grounds.]

K.--"Is it possible to find more detestable Gojim than

these impure and dumb children of Talvus--these Christian swine?"

[Footnote: Children of Edom, children of harlots, swine, dogs,

abominations, worshippers of the crucified, idolaters, are titles

of honour freely given to Christians by the rabbis.--See

Eisenmenger.]

C.--"No; that were impossible."

K.--"It permitted us to deceive them and spoil them of

their goods."

C.--"Eh? Wherefore are we the selected people, if we could

not spoil the children of Edom? They are our slaves, for we have

gold and they have none."

K.--"Good, good; but where is it written that we may spoil

the swine and take their goods?"

C.--"The Talmud says, it is permitted to deceive a Goi, and

take his goods." [Footnote: Tract. Bava Mezia.]

K.--"Forget not the principal passage, Tract. Megilla, fol.

l3--'What, is it then permitted to the just to deal deceitfully?

And he answered, Yea, for it is written, With the pure thou shalt

be pure, and with the froward thou shalt learn frowardness.'

[Footnote: 2 Sam. xxii. 27; a specimen of how the Talmudists

interpret the Bible.] Item, it is written expressly in the

Parascha Bereschith, 'It is permitted to the just to deal

deceitfully, even as Jacob dealt;' and if our fathers of blessed

memory acted thus, we were fools indeed not to skin the Christian

dogs and flog them to the death. (Spitting out.) Curse on the

unclean swine!"

C.--"I will be no such fool, rabbi, and if they compel me

to take an oath, I will do as Rabbi Akkiva of blessed memory."

K.--"Right, my son; pity thou canst not speak Hebrew;

methinks then thou wouldst have been a light in Israel. Speak--how

hath the Rabbi Akkiva sworn?"

C.--"The Talmud says, 'Hereupon the Rabbi Akkiva took the

oath with his lips, but in his heart he abjured it." [Footnote:

Talmud, tract. Calla.]

K.--"The Rabbi Akkiva, of blessed memory, was but a sorry

liver. Canst thou, too, defend the violation of the marriage vow?"

C.--"With the wives of the unclean Christian dogs,

wherefore not? For Moses saith (Lev. xx. 10), 'He who committeth

adultery with his neighbour's wife shall be put to death;'

so saith the Talmud, the wives of others are excepted; and

Rabbi Solomon expressly says on this passage, that under the word

'others' the wives of Gojim, or the Christian dogs, are meant."

[Footnote: Eisenmenger quotes a prayer-book of the Jews on this

subject, called The Great Tephilla.]

K.--"Yea, cursed be they and their whole race. Dost thou

curse them daily, as is thy duty?"

C.--"My duty is to curse them once; I curse them thrice."

[Footnote: Talmud, tract. Sanhedrin.]

K.--"Then wilt thou be recompensed threefold when Messias

comes, and the fine dishes and the fine clothes will grow out of

the blessed earth of themselves, that it will be a pleasure to see

them. [Footnote: Talmud, tract. Kethuvoth.] Speak--what saith the

Talmud? How large will the grapes then be?"

C.--"So large that a man will put a single grape in the

corner of his house, and tap it as if it were a beer-barrel. Is

not that almost too large, master!"

K.--"Look at my pert wisehead! Knowest thou not, that he

who mocks the words of the wise goes straight to hell, as happened

to that disciple who laughed at the Rabbi Jochanan when he said

that precious stones should be set in the gates of Jerusalem,

three ells long and three ells broad? [Footnote: Talmud, tract

Bava Bathra.] Item, hast thou not read how Rabbi Jacob Ben

Dosethai went one morning from Lud to Ono for three miles in pure

honey, or how Rabbi Ben Levi saw grapes in the land of Canaan so

large that he mistook them for fatted calves. What, then, will it

not be when Messias comes? [Footnote: In tractat Kethuvoth] But

who will not partake these blessings?"

C.--"The accursed swine, the Christians." [Footnote:

Eisenmenger ii. 777, &c. On this point he brings forward numerous

quotations from the later rabbinical writings; for it is certain

that on this subject the Talmud judges more mildly.]

K.--"Wherefore not?"

C.--"Because they cat swine's flesh, and believe on the

Talvus, who deceived the people through his sorceries."

K.--"All true; but when the Talmud says that the impure

Nazarene brought all his sorceries out of Egypt, what say our

rabbis of blessed memory against that?"

C.--"That he secretly stole the Schem Hamphorasch out of

the Temple, and stitched it into his flesh." [Footnote: An extract

from the horrible book of curses against the Saviour, the

Toledotk Jeschu, is given in Eisenmenger; the entire is

printed in Dr. Wagenseil's Tela Ignea Satanae]

K.--"What is the Schem Hamphorasch?"

C.--"God's wonder, His greatest! the seventy names of the

holy and ever-blessed God; and to him who knows them will the

angel Metatron appear, as he appeared to our forefathers, and all

stones can he turn to diamonds, and all loam to gold."

K.--"Dost thou know, my son, that I myself possess this

Schem Hamphorasch?"

C (clasping his hands).--"Wonder of God! can it be? And

have you all these riches?"

K.--"One of the accursed Christian dogs deceived me, and

kept back two of the leaves (may God plague him in eternity for

it), but still it effects much. I sell the holy Schem in little

pieces, as a cure for all diseases; yea, even bits no larger than

a grain will bring three ducats; item, I sell bits of it to

the dying to lay upon their stomachs, that so they may gain

eternal blessedness. Wilt thou buy a little grain too--eh? Ask the

elders here if ever better physic were found than the least grain

of dust from the holy Schem Hamphorasch?"

So the elders swore as my knave bid them, and said that no better

physic could be, and told of the various diseases which it had

cured in their own persons; item, that no Jew in the whole

town was without a morsel, be it large or small, to lay on his

stomach when dying; "but the greater the piece," said the rabbi,

"the greater the blessedness."

Now as the red-haired disciple seemed much inclined to purchase a

bit, the rabbi went over to the drawer, withdrew the tapestry, and

lifting up the golden jad, [Footnote: The jad--a gold or silver

hand with which a priest pointed out each line to the reader of

the Tora.] pointed smilingly to the palm-leaves therein with it.

"This," he said to the disciple, "was the ever-blessed Schem

Hamphorasch itself, if he had not already believed his words."

Meanwhile the aforesaid Meir, the rabbi's servant, crept forth

from under the women's gallery, and spake--"Now may ye stick two

Christian dogs dead, who are hiding here to steal the blessed

golden treasure from my master the rabbi: the clock has struck

eleven, and the Christian swine are snoring in all quarters of the

city. Up to the women's gallery! up to the women's gallery! There

they sit! Their six ducats I have safe: kill the dumb

uncircumcised dogs! strike them dead! For a ducat I will fling

them into the Oder. Come, come! here are knives! here are knives."

When the Duke and Doctor Joel heard all this, and saw all through

the little bulls'-eyes, they jumped up and clattered down the

stairs, the Duke drawing his dagger, which by good luck he had

brought with him. But the Jews are already on them, and the rabbi

strikes the Duke on the face with the golden jad, screaming--

"Accursed dog! there is one golden blow for thee, and a second

golden blow for thee, and a third golden blow for thee; put them

out to interest, and thou wilt have enough to buy the Schem

Hamphorasch." And the others fell upon the doctor, beating him

till their fists were bloody, and sticking him with their knives.

So my magister roared, "Oh, gracious lord! tell your name,

I beseech you, or in truth they will murder us--they will beat us

to death!"

But the Duke had hit the rabbi such a blow with his dagger across

the hand, that the golden jad fell to the ground, and the Duke,

leaning his back against a pillar, hewed right and left, and kept

them all at bay.

But this did not help, for the traitor knave, Meir, creeping along

on his knees, got hold of the Duke's foot, and lifting it up

suddenly in the air, made him lose his balance, and my gracious

Prince stumbled forward, and the dagger fell far from his hand,

upon which he cried out, "Listen, ye cursed Jewish brood! I am

your Prince, the Duke of Pomerania! My brother shall make ye pay

for this: your flesh shall be torn from the bones, and flung to

dogs by to-morrow, if you do not instantly give free passage to me

and my attendant." Then taking his signet from his finger, he held

it up, and cried, "Look here, ye cursed brood; here are my

arms--the ducal Pomeranian arms--behold! behold!"

At this hearing, the rabbi turned as pale as chalk, and all the

others started back from Dr. Joel, trembling with terror, while

the Duke continued--"We came not here to steal the Schem

Hamphorasch, as your traitor knave has given out, but to hear your

accursed Satan's crew with our own ears, which also we have done."

"Oh, your Highness," cried the rabbi, "it was a jest--all a mere

innocent jest. The accursed knave is guilty of all. Come, gracious

Prince, I will unbar the door; it was a jest--may I perish if it

was anything more than a merry jest, all this you have heard."

And scarcely had the door been closed upon the Duke and Dr. Joel,

when they heard the Jews inside falling upon the traitorous knave

and beating him till he roared for pain, as if in truth they had

stuck him on a pike. But they cared little what became of him, and

hastened back with all speed to the ducal residence.

CHAPTER XIV.

How the Duke Francis seeks a virgin at Marienfliess to cite the

angel Och for him--Of Sidonia's evil plot thereupon, and the

terrible uproar caused thereby in the convent.

After his Highness found that to obtain the Schem Hamphorasch was

an impossible thing, he resolved to seek throughout all Pomerania

for a pure and brave-hearted virgin, by whose aid he could break

Sidonia's demon spells, and preserve his whole princely race from

fearful and certain destruction. He therefore addressed a circular

to all the abbesses, conjecturing that if such a virgin were to be

found, it could only be in a cloister; and this was the letter:--

"FRANCISCUS, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, DUKE OF POMERANIA, STETTIN,

CASSUBEN, AND WENDEN, BISHOP OF CAMYN, PRINCE OP RUGEN, COUNT OF

GUTZKOW, LORD OF THE LANDS OF LAUENBURG AND BUTOW, &C.

"WORTHY ABBESS, TRUSTY AND GOOD FRIEND,--Be it known to you that

we have immediate need of the services of a pure virgin--but in

all honour--and are diligently seeking for such throughout our

ducal and ecclesiastical states; but understand, not alone a

virgin in act--for they can be met with in every house--but a

virgin in soul, pure in thought and word, for by her agency we

mean to build up a holy and virtuous work; as Gregory Nyssensis

says (De Virginitate, Opp. tom. ii. fol. 593):--'Virginity

must be the fundamentum upon which all virtue is built up, then

are the works of virtue noble and holy; but virginity, which is

only of the form, and exists not in the soul, is nothing but a

jewel of gold in a swine's snout, or a pearl which is trodden

under foot of swine.'

"Further, the said virgin must be of a brave, steadfast, and

man-like spirit, who fears nothing, and can defy death and the

devil, if need be.

"If ye have such a virgin, upon whom, with God's help, I can build

up my great virtuous work, send her to our court without delay,

and know that we shall watch over such virgin with all princely

goodness and clemency; but know also, that if on trial such virgin

is not found pure in thought and word, great danger is in store

for her, perchance even death.

"Signatum Camyn, 1st September 1617.

"FRANCISCUS, manu sua.

"Postscriptum.--Are the winter gloves ready? Forget not to

send them with the beer-waggon; my canons esteem them highly."

When this letter reached the abbess of Marienfliess by the

beer-waggon of the honourable chapter of Camyn, she was much

troubled as to how she ought to proceed. Truly there were two

young novices lately arrived, of about fifteen or sixteen, named

Anna Holborne and Catharina Maria von Wedel. These the abbess

thought would assuredly suit his Highness--item, they were

of a wonderful brave spirit, and had gone down at night to the

church to chase away the martens, though they bit them cruelly,

because they prevented the people sleeping; and, further, never

feared any ghost-work or devil's work that might be in the church,

but laughed over it. When these same virgins, however, heard what

the abbess wanted, they excused themselves, and said they had not

courage to peril their lives, though in truth they were pure

virgins in thought and word. But they could not hold their tongue

quiet, but must needs blab (alas, woe!) to Anna Apenborg, who runs

off instantly to the refectory to Sidonia, whom she had appeased

by means of some sausages, and tells her the whole story, and of

his Grace's wonderful letter.

So my hag laughed--never suspecting that she was the cause of

all--and said, "She would soon make out if such a virgin were to

be found in the convent; but would Anna promise secrecy?" And when

the other asseverated that she would be as silent as a stone in

the earth, my hag continued--

"I have got a receipt from that learned man, Albertus Magnus--his

book upon women--and we shall try it upon the nuns; but thou must

hold thy tongue, Anna."

"Oh, she would sooner have her tongue cut out than blab a word;

but what was the receipt?"

Here Sidonia answered, "She would soon see. She would give the

sisterhood a little of her fine beer to drink, with some of it

therein; and as she had got fresh sausages, and other good things

in plenty by her, she would pray the abbess and the whole convent

to dine with her on the following Monday; then the dear sister

should see wonders."

And in truth my hag was so shameless, that on Sunday, after

church, she prayed all the virgins, saying, "Would the dear

sisters eat their mid-day meal with her next day, to show that

they forgave her, if she had ever been over-hasty? Ah, God! she

loved peace above everything; but they must each bring their own

can, for she had not cans enough for all; and her new beer was

worth tasting-a better beer had she never brewed."

Summa.--All the sisterhood gladly accepted her invitation,

thinking from her Christian mildness of speech in the church that

she indeed wished to be reconciled to them; item, the

abbess promised to come, holding that compliance brings grace, but

harshness disfavour; but here the reverse was the case.

Early on this same Monday, the waggon returned laden with beer for

the honourable chapter, and the abbess despatched an answer by it

to his Highness the Bishop, as follows:--

MOST REVEREND BISHOP AND ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE, MY FRIENDLY SERVICES

TO YOUR GRACE.

"GRACIOUS LORD,--Concerning the matter of which your Highness

writes, I think there is no lack here of such virgins as you

describe, but none are of steadfast enough heart to brave the

great danger with which your Highness says they are menaced; for

we have a nature like all women, and are weak and faint-hearted.

But, methinks, there is one brave enough, and in all things pure,

who would be of the service your Grace demands--I mean Diliana

Bork, daughter of Jobst Bork of Saatzig; I counsel your Grace,

therefore, to try her.

"Now, as touching the winter gloves, I shall send some along with

this; but Sidonia will knit no gloves, and says, 'The fat canons

are like enough to old women already, without putting gloves on

them;' by which your Highness may judge of her impure mouth. God

better her.

"Your princely Grace's and my reverend Bishop's humble servant and

subject,

"MAGDELENA V. PETERSDORFIN.

"Marienfliess, 5th Sept. 1617."

Now when twelve o'clock struck, and mid-day shone on the blessed

land, all the nuns proceeded in their long black habits and white

veils to Sidonia's apartment, each with her beer-can in her hand

(woe is me! how soon they rushed back again in storm and anger).

Then they sat down to the sausages and other good morsels, while

Anna Apenborg was on tiptoe of expectation to see what would

happen; and old Wolde was there quite well again (for ill weeds

never die--no winter is cold enough for that). And she filled each

of their cans with the beer which Sidonia had brewed, after a new

formula; but, lo! no sooner had they tasted it than first Dorothea

Stettin starts up, and Sidonia asks what ails her.

To which she answers: "She is not superstitious, but there was

surely something wrong in the beer. She felt quite strange." And

she left the room, then another, and another--in fine, all who had

tasted the beer started up in like manner and followed Dorothea.

Only the abbess and some others who had not partaken of it

remained. Anna Apenborg had disappeared amongst the first, and

presently a terrific cry was heard from the courtyard, as if not

alone the cloister, but the whole world was in flames. Curses,

cries, menaces, threats, screams, all mingled together, and shouts

of "Run for a broomstick! the accursed witch! the evil hag! let us

punish her for this!"

Whereupon the abbess jumps up, flings open the window, and beholds

Dorothea Stettin so changed in mien, voice, gestures--in fine, in

her whole being--that she was hardly to be recognised. She looks

black and blue in the face, has her fists clenched, stamps with

her feet, and screams.

"For God's sake! what ails you, Dorothea?" asked the alarmed

abbess. But no answer can she hear; for all the virgins scream,

roar, howl, and curse in one grand chorus, as if indeed the last

day itself were come. So she runs down the steps as quick as she

can, while Sidonia looks out at the window, and laughing, said,

"Eh, dear sisters, this is a strange pastime you have got; better

come up quickly, or the pudding will be cold."

At this the screeching and howling were redoubled, and Dorothea

spat up at the window, and another flung up a broomstick, so that

my hag got a bloody nose, and drew in her head screaming now

likewise.

Then they all wanted to rush up into the refectory, each armed

with a broomstick to punish Sidonia, and they would not heed the

abbess, who still vainly asked what had angered them? but the

other sisters who were descending met them half way, and prevented

their ascent; whereupon the abbess raised her voice and called out

loud: "Whoever does not return instantly at my command as abbess,

shall be imprisoned forthwith, and condemned to bread and water

for a whole day! Item, whoever speaks until I address her,

shall be kept half-a-day on bread and water. Now Dorothea,

speak--you alone, and let every one of you descend the steps and

return here to the courtyard." This menace availed at last, and

with many sobs and groans, Dorothea at last told of Sidonia's

horrible plot, as Anna Apenborg had explained to them. How she had

invited them on purpose to disgrace them for ever in the eyes of

the Prince and of the whole world, and the abbess could now judge

herself, if they had not a right to be angry. But she must have

her sub-prioret back again, out of which the scandalous witch had

tricked her, and the abbess must forthwith despatch a messenger to

his Highness, praying him to chase this unclean beast out of the

convent, and into the streets again, from which they had taken

her; for neither God nor man had peace or rest from her.

Sidonia overhearing this from the window, stretched out her grey

head again, wiped away with her hand the blood that was streaming

from her nose, and then menacing the abbess with her bloody fist,

screamed out, "Write if you dare! write if you dare!" So the

curses, howls, yells, screeches, all break loose again; some pitch

their shoes up at the windows, others let fly the broomsticks at

the old hag, and Dorothea cried out, "Let all pure and honourable

virgins follow me!" Yet still a great many of the sisters gathered

round the abbess, weeping and wringing their hands, and praying

for peace, declaring they would not leave her; but all the younger

nuns, particularly they who had drunk of Sidonia's accursed beer,

followed the sub-prioress, and as the discontented Roman people

withdrew once to the Aventine mount, so the cloister malcontents

withdrew to the Muhlenberg, howling and sobbing, and casting

themselves on the ground from despair. In vain the abbess ran

after them, conjuring them not to expose themselves before God and

man: it was all useless, my virgins screamed in chorus--"No, that

they would never do, but to the cloister they would not return

till the princely answer arrived, expelling the dragon for ever.

Let what would become of them, they would not return. The jewel of

their honour was dearer to them than life."

Now Sidonia was watching all this from her window, and as she

justly feared that now in earnest the wrath and anger of the two

Princes would fall on her, she goes straight to the abbess, who

sits in her cell weeping and wringing her hands, menaces her again

with her bloody fist, and says, "Will you write? will you write?

ay, you may, but you will never live to hear the answer!" Upon

which, murmuring to herself, she left the chamber. What can the

poor abbess do? And the cry now comes to her, that not only the

miller and his men, but half the town likewise, are gathered round

the virgins. Oh, what a scandal! She wrings her hands in prayer to

God, and at last resolves to lay down her poor life, so that she

may fulfil her hard duty bravely as beseems her, goes then

straight to the Muhlenberg and arranges the evil business

thus:--Let the virgins return instantly to the cloister, and she

would herself write to the Duke, and despatch the messenger this

very night. But she begged for just two hours to herself, that she

might make her will, and send for the sheriff's secretary to draw

it up properly; also to search for her shroud which lay in her

chest. For since her cruel children demanded her life, she would

give it to them. The Duke's answer she would never live to hear.

So Sidonia had prophesied just now.

Then she descended the hill, chanting that beautiful hymn of Dr.

Nicolai's, while the virgins followed, and some lifted up their

weeping voices in unison with hers:--

'Awake! the watchers on the tower

Chant aloud the midnight hour;

Awake, thou bride Jerusalem!

Through the city's gloomy porches

See the flashing bridal torches;

Awake, thou bride Jerusalem!

Come forth, come forth, ye virgin choir,

Light your lamps with altar fire!

Hallelujah! in His pride

Comes the Bridegroom to His bride;

Awake, thou fair Jerusalem!

Zion heard the watchers singing,

From her couch in beauty springing,

She wakes, and hastens joyful out.

Lo! He comes in heavenly beauty,

Strong in love, in grace, in duty;

Now her heart is free from doubt.

Light and glory flash before Him,

Heaven's star is shining o'er Him,

On His brow the kingly crown,

For the Bridegroom is THE SON.

Hallelujah! follow all

To the heavenly bridal-hall,

There the Lamb holds festival!'

But behold, as they reached the convent gates, chanting their

heavenly melody, there stood the demon-witch, dancing and singing

her hellish melody--

"Also kleien und also kratzen,

Meine Hunde und meine Katzen."

And old Wolde and the cat, in his little red stockings, danced

right and left beside her.

At this horrible sight the poor virgins scampered off hither and

thither to their cells, like doves flying to their nests, without

uttering a word, only the abbess exclaimed--"But two hours, my

children, in the church!" Whereupon she goes, makes her will, and

prepares her shroud. Item, sends for the dairy-mother,

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