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Sidonia The Sorceress
By William Mienhold
VOLUME I
BOOK II.
CHAPTER XIII.
Of the adventure with the boundary lads, and how one of them promises to admit Johann Appelmann into the castle of Daber that same night-Item, of what befell amongst the guests at the castle.
When Johann and Sidonia proposed to the band that they should pillage the castle of Daber, they all shouted with delight, and swore that life and limb might be perilled, but the castle should be theirs that night. Nevertheless my knave Johann thought it a dangerous undertaking, for they knew no one inside the walls, and Anna Wolde, the witch, could not come with them, seeing that she was lame. So at last he thought of sending Konnemann disguised as a beggar, to examine the courtyard and all the out offices--perchance he might spy out some unguarded door by which they could effect an entrance.
Then Sidonia said she would go too, and although Johann tried hard to persuade her, yet she begged so earnestly for leave that finally he consented. Yes, she must see the very spot where the viper was hatched which had stung her to death. Ah, she would brew something for her in return; pity only that the wedding was over, otherwise the little bride should never have touched a wedding-ring, if she could help it; but it was too late now.
So the three Satan's children slipped out upon the highway from the wood, and travelled on so near to the castle that the noise, and talking, and laughing, and barking of dogs, and neighing of horses, were all quite audible to their ears.
Now the castle of Daber is built upon a hill which is entirely surrounded by water, so that the castle can be approached only by two bridges--one southwards, leading from the town; the other eastwards, leading direct through the castle gardens. The castle itself was a noble, lofty pile, with strong towers and spires--almost as stately a building as my gracious lord's castle at Saatzig.
When Johann observed all this, his heart failed him, and as he and his two companions peeped out at it from behind a thorn-bush, they agreed that it would be hard work to take such a castle, garrisoned, as it was now, by four hundred men or more, with their mere handful of partisans.
But Satan knows how to help his own, for what happened while they were crouching there and arguing? Behold, the old Dewitz, as an offering to the church at Daber upon his daughter's marriage, had promised twenty good acres of land to be added to the glebe. And he comes now up the hill, with a great crowd of men to dig the boundary. So the Satan's children behind the thorn-bush feared they would be discovered; but it was not so, and the crowd passed on unheeding them.
Old Dewitz now called the witnesses, and bid them take note of the position of the boundary. There where the hill, the wild apple-tree, and the town tower were all in one line, was the limit; let them keep this well in their minds. Then calling over six lads, he bid them take note likewise of the boundary, that when the old people were dead they might stand up as witnesses; but as such things were easily forgotten, he, the priest, and the churchwarden would write it down for them, so that it never, by any chance, could escape their memory.
Upon which the good knight, being lord and patron, took a stout stick the first, and cudgelled the young lads well, asking them between terms--
"Where is the boundary?"
To which they answered, screaming and roaring--
"Where the hill, the apple-tree, and the town tower are all in one line."
Then the knight, laughing, handed over the stick to the priest, saying--
"It was still possible they might forget; they better, therefore, have another little memorandum from his reverence."
"No! no!" screamed the boys, "we will remember it to eternity."
However, his reverence just gave them a little touch of the stick in fun, till they roared out the boundary marks a second time.
But now stepped forth the churchwarden, to take his turn with the stick on the boys' backs. This man had been a forester of the old Baron Dewitz, and had often taken note of one of the young fellows present, how he had poached and stolen the buck-wheat, so he gladly seized this opportunity to punish him for all his misdeeds, and laying the cudgel on his shoulders, thrashed and belaboured him so unmercifully, that the lad ran, shrieking, cursing, howling, and roaring, far away in amongst the bushes to hide himself, while the churchwarden cried out--
"Well! if all the other lads forget the boundary, I think my fine fellow here will bear the memorandum to the day of judgment."
And so they went away laughing from the place, and returned to the castle.
But the devil drew his profit from all this, for where should the lad run to, but close to the very spot where the robbers were hiding, and there he threw himself down upon the grass, writhing and howling, and swearing he would be revenged upon the churchwarden. This is a fine hearing for my knave in the bush, so he steps forward, and asks--
"What vile Josel had dared to ill-treat so brave a youth? He would help him to a revenge upon the base knave, for injustice was a thing he never could suffer. The tears really were in his eyes to think that such wickedness should be in the world;" and here he pretended to wipe his eyes. So the lad, being quite overcome by such compassionate sympathy, howled and cried ten times more--
"It was the forester Kell, the shameless hound; but he would play him a trick for it."
Ille.--"Right. He owed the fellow a drubbing already himself, and now he would have a double one, if he could only get hold of him."
Hic.--"He would run and tell him that a great lord wanted to speak to him here in the forest."
Ille.-"No, no; that would scarcely answer; but where did the fellow live?"
Hic.-"In the castle, where his father lived likewise."
Ille.-"Who was his father?"
Hic.--"His father was the steward."
Ille.--"Ah, then, he kept the keys of the castle?"
Hic.--"Oh yes, and the key of the back entrance also, which led through the gardens. His father kept one key, and the gardener the other."
Ille.--"Well, he would tell him a secret. This very Kell had deceived him once, like a knave as he was, and he was watching to punish him, but he daren't go up to the castle in the broad daylight, particularly now while the wedding was going on. How long would it last?"
Hic.--"For three days more; it had lasted three days already, and the castle was full of company, and great lords from all the country round, a great deal grander even than old Dewitz, were there."
Ille.--"Well, then, it would be quite impossible to go up to the castle and flog the churchwarden before all the company--he could see that himself. But supposing he let him in at night through the garden door, couldn't they get the knave out on some pretence, and then drub him to their heart's content?"
So the lad was delighted with the plan, particularly on hearing that he was to help in the drubbing; but then if the forester recognised him, what was to be done? he would be ruined. To which Johann answered--
"Just put on an old cloak, and speak no word; then, neither by dress nor voice will he know thee; besides, the night will be quite dark, so fear nothing. We'll teach him, I engage, how to beat a fine young fellow again, or to rob me of my gold, as he did, the base, unworthy knave."
Here the lad laughed outright with joy. "Yes, yes, that would just do; and he could put on his father's old mantle, and bring a stout crab-stick along with him."
Hic.--"All right, young friend; but how was he to get into the castle garden? Was there not a drawbridge which was lifted every night?"
Hic.--"Oh yes; but his father very often sent him to draw it up, and he could leave it down for tonight; then he would get the forester, by some means, into the shrubbery, where it was dark as pitch, and they could thrash the dog there without any one knowing a word about it."
Ille.-"Good! Then when the tower-clock struck nine, let him come himself and admit him into the garden--time enough after to run for the forester, while he was hiding himself in the shrubbery, for no one must know a word about his being there." Then he gave the lad a knife, and told him if all turned out well he should have a piece of gold in addition. "Ah! they would give him a warm greeting, this dog of a forester! But after he had called him out, the lad must pretend as if he had nothing to do with the matter, and go back to the house, or slip down some by-path."
So the lad jumped with joy when he got hold of the knife, and skipped off to the castle, promising to be at the drawbridge when nine o'clock struck from the tower, to admit his good friend into the garden.
Meanwhile my gracious Lady of Wolgast was making preparations for her departure on the morrow from the castle, for she had been attending the wedding festivities with her four sons, and Ulrich, the Grand Chamberlain; but previous to taking leave of her dear son, Duke Johann Frederick, she wished to make one more attempt to induce him to take off the interdict from the country, and allow the courts of justice to be re-opened, for thus would the land be freed from these wild hordes who haunted every road, and filled all hearts with fear.
For this purpose she went up to his own private chamber in the castle, bringing old Ulrich along with her; and when they entered, old Ulrich, having closed the door, began--"Now, gracious lady, speak to your son as befits a mother and your princely Grace to do."
Upon which he took his seat at the table, looking around him as sour as a vinegar-cruet.
So the Duchess lifted up her voice with many tears, and prayed his Highness of Stettin to stem all this violence that raged in the land, as a loving Prince and father towards his subjects. He had resisted all her entreaties until now, with those of his dear brothers and old Ulrich; and had not even his host and the whole nobility tried to soften his heart towards his people, who were suffering by his hard resolve? But surely he would not refuse her now, for she had come to take her leave of him, and had brought his old guardian and his brothers to plead along with her; besides, who knew what might happen next? For she heard, to her astonishment, that Sidonia was not dead at all, as they supposed, but roaming through the country with her accursed paramour. Had she known this, never would she have permitted this long journey, dear even as the bride was to her heart, but would have stayed at Wolgast to watch over her heart's dear son, Ernest, and his young spouse, who rightly feared to put themselves in danger again, after the sore peril they had encountered in the Stettin forest; and who knew what might happen to her on the journey homeward? for if she encountered Sidonia, what could she expect from her but the bitterest death? (weeping.) Ah, this all came upon them because the young Duke had despised the admonitions of his blessed father upon his death-bed, and thought not of that Scripture which saith, "The father's blessing buildeth the children's houses, but the curse of the mother pulleth them down." [Sirach iii. II.] She had never cursed him yet, but that day might come.
Then Duke Johann answered, "He was sad to see his darling mother chafe and fret about these same courts of justice, but his princely honour was pledged, and he could not retract one word until the states came back to their duty, and gave him the gold he demanded. For how could he stand before the world as a fool? He had begun this castle of Friedrichswald, and had ordered all kinds of statues, paintings, etc., from Italy, for which gold must be paid. How, then, if he had none?"
"But those were idle follies," his mother answered, "and showed how true were the words of Solomon--'When a prince wanteth understanding, there is great oppression.'" Prov. xxviii. 16.
Here the Duke grew angry. "It was false; he did not want understanding. Well it was that no one had dared to say this to him but his mother."
But my gracious lady could not hear him plainly; for his Serene Highness, Barnim the younger, who had drunk rather freely at dinner, began to snore so loudly, that he snored away a paper which lay before old Ulrich, upon which he had been sketching a list of propositions for the reconciliation of the Duke and the estates of the kingdom.
Hereupon the old chamberlain cursed and swore--"May the seven thousand devils take them! One snarls at his mother, and the other snores away his paper! Did the Prince think that Pomerania was like Saxony, when he began these fine buildings at Friedrichswald? His Grace had a house at Stettin; what did he want with a second? Was his Grace better than his forefathers? And would not his Grace have Oderburg when old Duke Barnim died? and castles and towns all round the land?"
But the Duke answered proudly, "That Ulrich should remember his guardianship had ended. He knew himself what to do and what to leave undone."
Herewith the young Lord Bogislaff broke in--"Yet, dearest brother, be advised by us. Bethink you how I resigned my chance of the duchy at the Diet of Wollin, and now I am ready to give you up the annuity which I then received, if it will help your necessities, and that you promise thereupon to release the land from the interdict, that all this fearful villainy and lawlessness which is devastating the country may have an end."
Ille.--"Matters were not so bad as he thought; besides, why cannot the people defend themselves, and take care of their own skin?"
Hic.--"So they do; but this only increased injustice and lawlessness." Then he related many examples of how the despairing people of the different towns had executed justice, after their own manner, upon the robbers who fell into their hands. In Stolpschen, for instance, three fellows had been caught plundering the corn, and the peasants nailed them up to a tree, and whipped them till they dropped down dead. Well might Satan laugh over the sin and wickedness that reigned now in poor Pomerania.
Item, he related how the peasants in Marienfliess were going to burn a witch, without trial or sentence. Item, how many peasants and villagers had hung up their own bailiffs, or strangled them. Item, how the priests had been chased away from many places, so that they now had to beg their bread upon the highway; and in such towns God's service was no more heard, but each one lived as it pleased him, and the peasants did as they chose. And now he would ask his heart's dear brother, which would be more upright and honourable in the sight of the great God--to build up this castle of Friedrichswald, or to let it fall, and build up the virtue and happiness of his people? He could not build the castle without money, and he had none; but he could restore his land to peace and happiness by a word. Let him, then, open these long-closed courts of justice, for this was his duty as a Prince; and let him remember that every prince was ordained of God, and must answer to Him for his government.
Hereupon the Stettin Duke made answer--"Pity, good Bogislaff, thou wert not a village priest! Hast thou finished thy sermon? Truly thou wert never meant for a prince, as we heard from thy own lips, the day of the Diet at Wollin. Thou hast no sense of princely honour, I see, but I stand by mine; and now, by my princely honour, I pledge my princely word, that, until the states give me the money, the land shall remain in all things as it is."
Here old Ulrich sprang to his feet (while my gracious lady sobbed aloud), clapped the table, and roared--"Seven thousand devils, my lord! are we to be robbed and murdered by those vile cut-throats that infest the land, and your Grace will fold your hands and do nothing, till they drive your Grace yourself out of the land, or run a spear through your body, as they would have done to your princely brother of Wolgast, only he had faithful vassals to defend him? If it is so to be, then must the nobles make their petition to the Emperor, and we shall see if his Imperial Majesty cannot bring your Grace to reason, though your mother and we all have failed to move you."
Here the little Casimir, who was playing with the paper which his brother had snored away, ran up to his mother, and pulling her by the gown, said, "Gracious lady mamma, what ails my brother, the Stettin Duke? Is he drunk, too?"
At which they all laughed, except Duke Johann, who gave a kick to his little brother, and then strode out of the room, exclaiming, "Sooner my life than my honour; I shall stay here no longer to be tutored and lectured, but will take my journey homewards this very night." And so he departed, but by a small side-door, for old Ulrich had locked the chief door on entering.
Now, indeed, her Grace wept bitterly: ah! she thought the evil had left her house, which the fatal business at her wedding had wrought on it, when Dr. Martinus dropped the ring; but, alas! it was only beginning now; and yet she could not curse him, for he was her son, and she had borne him in pain and sorrow.
Summa.--If many were displeased at these proceedings of his Grace, so also was the Lord God, as was seen clearly by many strange signs; for on that same night Duke Barnim the elder died at Oderburg, and all the crosses, knobs, and spires throughout the whole town turned quite black, though they had only been newly gilded a year before, and no rain, lightning, or thunder had been observed.
[Footnote: The Duke died 29th September 1573, aged 72 years.--Micraelius. 369.]
But this was all clearly to show the anger of God over the sins of the young Duke, and by these signs He would admonish him to repentance, as a father might gently threaten a refractory child. As to what further happened his Grace when he went out by the little door, and the danger that befell him there, we shall hear more in another chapter.