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Of the distress in Pomeranian land--Item, how Sidonia and Johann Appelmann determine to join the robbers in the vicinity of Stargard.
When my gracious lord, Duke Johann Frederick, succeeded to the government, he had no idea of hoarding up his money in old pots, but lavished it freely upon all kinds of buildings, hounds, horses--in short, upon everything that could make his court and castle luxurious and magnificent.
Indeed, he was often as prodigal, just to gratify a whim, as when he flung the gold coins to Dinnies Kleist, merely to see if he could break them. For instance, he was not content with the old ducal residence at Stettin, but must pull it down and build another in the forest, not far from Stargard, with churches, towers, stables, and all kinds of buildings; and this new residence he called after his own name, Friedrichswald.
Item, my gracious lord had many princely visitors, who would come with a train of six hundred horses or more; and his princely spouse, the Duchess Erdmuth, was a lady of munificent spirit, and flung away gold by handfuls; so that in a short time his Highness had run through all his forefathers' savings, and his incoming revenue was greatly diminished by the large annuity which he had to pay to old Duke Barnim.
Therefore he summoned the states, and requested them to assist him with more money; but they gave answer that his Highness wanted prudence; he ought to tie his purse tighter. Why did he build that new castle of Friedrichswald? Was it ever heard in Pomerania that a prince needed two state residences? But his Highness never entered the treasury to look after the expenditure of the duchy--he did nothing but banquet, hunt, fish, and build. The states, therefore, had no gold for such extravagances.
When his Highness had received this same answer two or three times from the states, he waxed wroth, and threatened to pronounce the interdictum seculars over his poor land, and finally close the royal treasury and all the courts of justice, until the states would give him money.
Now the old treasurer, Jacob Zitsewitz, who had quitted Wolgast to enter the service of his Grace, was so shocked at these proceedings, that he killed himself out of pure grief and shame. He was an upright, excellent man, this old Zitsewitz, though perchance, like old Duke Barnim, he loved the maidens and a lusty Pomeranian draught rather too well. And he foretold all the evil that would result from this same interdict; but his Highness resisted his entreaties; and when the old man found his warnings unheeded and despised, he stabbed himself, as I have said, there in the treasury, before his master's eyes, out of grief and shame.
The misery which he prophesied soon fell upon the land; for it was just at that time that the great house of Loitz failed in Stettin, leaving debts to the amount of twenty tons of gold, it was said; by reason of which many thousand men, widows, and orphans, were utterly beggared, and great distress brought upon all ranks of the people. Such universal grief and lamentation never had been known in all Pomerania, as I have heard my father tell, of blessed memory; and as the princely treasury was closed, as also all the courts of justice, and no redress could be obtained, many misguided and ruined men resolved to revenge themselves; and this was now a welcome hearing to Johann Appelmann.
For having given up all hope of the post of equerry, he made acquaintance with these disaffected persons, amongst whom was a miller, one Philip Konneman by name, a notorious knave. With this Konneman he sits down one evening in the inn to drink Rostock beer, begins to curse and abuse the reigning family, who had ruined and beggared the people even more than Hans Loitz. They ought to combine together and right themselves. Where was the crime? Their cause was good; and where there were no judges in the land, complaints would do little good. He would be their captain. Let him speak to the others about it, and see would they consent. He knew of many churches where there were jewels and other valuables still remaining. Also in Stargard, where his dear father played the burgomaster, there was much gold.
So they fixed a night when they should all meet at Lastadie, a suburb of Stettin, near the ducal fish-house; and Johann then goes to Sidonia to wheedle her out of the gold chain, for handsel for the robbers.
"Now," he said, "the good old times were come back in Pomerania, when every one trusted to his own good sword, and were not led like sheep at the beck of another; for the treasury and all the courts of justice were closed. So the glorious times of knight-errantry must come again, such as their forefathers had seen." His companions had promised to elect him captain; but then he must give them handsel for that, and the gold chain would just sell for the sum he wanted. What use was it to her? If she gave it, then he would take her with him, and the first rich prize they got he would marry her certainly, and settle down in Poland afterwards, or wherever else she wished. That would be a glorious life, and she would never regret the young Duke. And had not all the nobles in old time led the same life, and so gained their castles and lands?
But Sidonia began to weep. "Let him do what he would, she would never give the chain; and if he beat her, she would scream for help through the streets, and betray all his plans to the authorities. Now she saw plainly how she had been deceived. He had talked her out of all her gold, and now wanted to bring her to the gallows at last. No, never should he get the chain--it was all she had left; and she had determined at last to go and live quietly at her farm in Zachow, as soon as she could obtain a vehicle from Regenswald to Labes."
When Johann heard this, he was terribly alarmed, and kissed her little hands, and coaxed and flattered her--"Why did she weep? There were plenty of herons' feathers now in the garden behind St. Mary's, for the birds were moulting. She could easily get some of them, and they were worth three times as much as the gold chain. Did she think it a crime to take a few feathers from that old sinner, Duke Barnim, or his girls? And if she really wished to leave him, she could sell the feathers even better in Dresden than here."
It was all in vain. Sidonia continued weeping--"Let him talk as he liked, she would never give the chain. He was a knave through and through. Woe to her that she had ever listened to him! He was the cause of all her misery!" and so she went on.
But the cunning fox would not give up his prey so easily. He now tried the same trick which he had played so successfully at Wolgast upon old Ulrich, and at Stargard upon his father; in short, he played the penitent, and began to weep and lament over his errors, and all the misery he had caused her. "It was, indeed, true that he was to blame for all; but if she would only forgive him, and say she pardoned him, he would devote his life to her, and revenge her upon all her enemies. The moment for doing so was nigh at hand; for the young lord, Prince Ernest, who had so shamefully abandoned her, was coming here to Stettin with his young bride, the Princess Hedwig of Brunswick, to spend the honeymoon, and would he not take good care to waylay them on their journey to Wolgast, and give them something to think of for the rest of their lives?"
When Sidonia heard these tidings, her eyes flashed like a cat's in the dark. "Who told him that? She would not believe it, unless some one else confirmed the story."
So he answered--"That any one could confirm it, for the whole castle was filled with workmen making preparations for their reception; the bridal chamber had been hung with new tapestry, and painters and carvers were busy all day long painting and carving the united arms of Pomerania and Brunswick upon all the furniture and glass."
Illa.--"Well, she would go into the town to inquire, and if his tale were true, and that he swore to marry her, he should have the chain."
Ille.--"There was a carver going by with his basket and tools--let her call him in, and hear what he said on the matter."
So my cunning fellow called out to the workman, who stepped in presently with his basket, and assured the lady politely, that in fourteen days the young Duke of Wolgast and his princely bride were to arrive at the castle, for the Court Marshal had told him this himself, and given him orders to have a large number of glasses cut with their united arms ready with all diligence.
When Sidonia heard this, and saw the glasses in his basket, she handed the golden chain to Johann, and the carver went his way. Then the aforesaid rogue fell down on his knees, swearing to marry her, and never to leave her more, for she had now given him all; and if this, too, were lost, she must beg her way to Zachow.
So the gallows-bird went off with the chain, turned it into money, drank and caroused, and with the remainder set off for Lastadie, to meet the ringleaders, near the ducal fishhouse, as agreed upon.
But Master Konneman had only been able to gather ten fellows together; the others held back, though they had talked so boldly at first, thinking, no doubt, that when the courts of justice were reopened, they would all be brought to the gallows.
So Johann thought the number too small for his purposes, and agreed with the others to send an envoy to the robber-band of the Stargard Wood, proposing a league between them, and offering himself (Johann Appelmann, a knight of excellent family and endowments) as their captain. Should they consent, the said Johann would give them right good handsel; and on the appointed day, meet them in the forest, with his illustrious and noble bride; and as a sign whereby they should know him, he would whistle three times loudly when he approached the wood.
Konneman undertook to be the bearer of the message, and returned in a few days, declaring that the robbers had received the proposal with joy. He found them encamped under a large nut-tree in the forest, roasting a sheep upon a spear, at a large fire. So they made him sit down and eat with them, and told him it was a right jolly life, with no ruler but the great God above them. Better to live under the free heaven than die in their squalid cabins. The band was strong, besides many who had joined lately, since the bankruptcy of Hans Loitz, and there were some gipsies too, amongst whom was an old hag who told fortunes, and had lately prophesied to the band that a great prize was in store for them; they had just returned with some booty from the little town of Damm, where they had committed a robbery. One of their party, however, had been taken there.
When Johann heard the good result of his message, he summoned all his followers to another meeting at the ducal fish-house, gave them each money, and swore them to fidelity; then bid them disperse, and slip singly to the band, to avoid observation, and he would himself meet them in the forest next day.