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Sidonia The Sorceress
By William Mienhold
VOLUME I
BOOK III.
FROM THE RECEPTION OF SIDONIA INTO THE CONVENT AT MARIENFLIESS UP TILL HER EXECUTION, AUGUST 19th, 1620.
CHAPTER I.
How the sub-prioress, Dorothea Stettin, visits Sidonia and extols her virtue--Item, of Sidonia's quarrel with the dairywoman, and how she beats the sheriff himself, Eggert Sparling, with a broom-stick.
MOST EMINENT AND ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE!--Your Serene Highness will surely pardon me if I pass over, in libra tertio, many of the quarrels, bickerings, strifes, and evil deeds, with which Sidonia disturbed the peace of the convent, and brought many a goodly person therein to a cruel end; first, because these things are already much known and talked of; and secondly, because such dire and Satanic wickedness must not be so much as named to gentle ears by me.
I shall therefore only set down a few of the principal events of her convent life, by which your Grace and others may easily conjecture much of what still remains unsaid; for truly wickedness advanced and strengthened in her day by day, as decay in a rotting tree.
The morning after her arrival in the convent, while it was yet quite early, and Wolde Albrechts, her lame maid, was sweeping out the refectory, the sub-prioress, Dorothea Stettin, came to pay her a visit. She had a piece of salmon, and a fine haddock's liver, on a plate, to present to the lady, and was full of joy and gratitude that so pious and chaste a maiden should have entered this convent. "Ah, yes! it was indeed terrible to see how the convent gates lay open, and the men-folk walked in and out, as the lady herself had seen yesterday. And would sister Sidonia believe it, sometimes the carls came in bare-legged? Not alone old Matthias Winterfeld, the convent porter, but others--yea, even in their shirt-sleeves sometimes--oh, it was shocking even to think of! She had talked about it long enough, but no one heeded her, though truly she was sub-prioress, and ought to have authority. However, if sister Sidonia would make common cause with her from this time forth, modesty and sobriety might yet be brought back to their blessed cloister."
Sidonia desired nothing better than to make common cause with the good, simple Dorothea--but for her own purposes. Therefore she answered, "Ay, truly; this matter of the open gates was a grievous sin and shame. What else were these giddy wantons thinking of but lovers and matrimony? She really blushed to see them yesterday."
Illa.--"True, true; that was just it. All about love and marriage was the talk for ever amongst them. It made her heart die within her to think what the young maidens were nowadays."
Hæc.--"Had she any instances to bring forward; what had they done?"
Illa.--"Alas! instances enough. Why, not long since, a nun had married with a clerk, and this last chaplain, David Grosskopf, had taken another nun to wife himself."
Hæc.--"Oh, she was ready to faint with horror."
Illa (sobbing, weeping, and falling upon Sidonia's neck).--"God be praised that she had found one righteous soul in this Sodom and Gomorrah. Now she would swear friendship to her for life and death! And had she a little drop of wine, just to pour on the haddock's liver? it tasted so much better stewed in wine! but she would go for some of her own. The liver must just get one turn on the fire, and then the butter and spices have to be added. She would teach her how to do it if she did not know, only let the old maid make up the fire."
Hæc.--"What was she talking about? Cooking was child's play to her; she had other things to cook than haddocks' livers."
Illa (weeping).--"Ah! let not her chaste sister be angry; she had meant it all in kindness."
Hæc.--"No doubt--but why did she call the convent a Sodom and Gomorrah? Did the nuns ever admit a lover into their cells?"
Illa (screaming with horror).--"No, no, fie! how could the chaste sister bring her lips to utter such words?"
Hæc.--"What did she mean, then, by the Sodom and Gomorrah?"
Illa.--"Alas! the whole world was a Sodom and Gomorrah, why, then, not the convent, since it lay in the world? For though we do not sin in words or works, yet we may sin in thought; and this was evidently the case with some of these young things, for if the talk in their hearing was of marriage, they laughed and tittered, so that it was a scandal and abomination!"
Hæc.--"But had she anything else to tell her--what had she come for?"
Illa.--"Ah! she had forgotten. The abbess sent to say, that she must begin to knit the gloves directly for the canons of Camyn. Here was the thread."
Hæc.--"Thousand devils! what did she mean?" Illa(crossing herself).--"Ah! the pious sister might let the devils alone, though (God be good to us) the world was indeed full of them!"
Hæc.--"What did she mean, then, by this knitting--to talk to her so--the lady of castles and lands?"
Illa.--"Why, the matter was thus. The reverend canons of Camyn, who were twelve in number, purchased their beer always from the convent--for such had been the usage from the old Catholic times--and sent a waggon regularly every half-year to fetch it home. In return for this goodness, the nuns knit a pair of thread gloves for each canon in spring, and a pair of woollen ones in winter."
Hæc.--"Then the devil may knit them if he chooses, but she never will. What! a lady of her rank to knit gloves for these old fat paunches! No, no; the abbess must come to her! Send a message to bid her come."
And truly, in a little time, the abbess, Magdalena von Petersdorf, came as she was bid; for she had resolved to try and conquer Sidonia's pride and insolence by softness and humility.
But what a storm of words fell upon the worthy matron!
"Was this treatment, forsooth, for a noble lady? To be told to knit gloves for a set of lazy canons. Marry, she had better send the men at once to her room, to have them tried on. No wonder that levity and wantonness should reign throughout the convent!"
Here the good mother interposed--
"But could not sister Sidonia moderate her language a little? Such violence ill became a spiritual maiden. If she would not hold by the old usage, let her say so quietly, and then she herself, the abbess, would undertake to knit the gloves, since the work so displeased her."
Then she turned to leave the room, but, on opening the door, tumbled right against sister Anna Apenborg, who was stuck up close to it, with her ear against the crevice, listening to what was passing inside. Anna screamed at first, for the good mother's head had given her a stout blow, but recovering quickly, as the two prioresses passed out, curtsied to Sidonia--
"Her name was Anna Apenborg. Her father, Elias, dwelt in Nadrensee, near Old Stettin, and her great-great-grandfather, Caspar, had been with Bogislaff X. in the Holy Land. She had come to pay her respects to the new sister, for she was cooking in the kitchen yesterday when the lady arrived, and never got a sight of her, but she heard that this dear new sister was a great lady, with castles and lands. Her father's cabin was only a poor thing thatched with straw," etc.
All this pleased the proud Sidonia mightily, so she beckoned her into the room, where the aforesaid Anna immediately began to stare about her, and devour everything with her eyes; but seeing such scanty furniture, remarked inquiringly--
"The dear sister's goods are, of course, on the road?"
This spoiled all Sidonia's good-humour in a moment, and she snappishly asked--
"What brought her there?"
Hereupon the other excused herself--
"The maid had told her that the dear sister was going to eat her salmon for her lunch, with bread and butter, but it was much better with kale, and if she had none, her maid might come down now and cut some in the garden. This was what she had to say. She heard, indeed, that the sub-prioress and Agnes Kleist ate their salmon stewed in butter, but that was too rich; for one should be very particular about salmon, it was so apt to disagree. However, if sister Sidonia would just mind her, she would teach her all the different ways of dressing it, and no one was ever the worse for eating salmon, if they followed her plan."
But before Sidonia had time to answer, the chatterbox had run to the door and lifted the latch--
"There was a strange woman in the courtyard, with something under her apron. She must go and see what it was, but would be back again instantly with the news."
In a short time she returned, bringing along with her Sheriff Sparling's dairy-woman, who carried a large bundle of flax under her apron. This she set down before Sidonia--
"And his worship bid her say that she must spin all this for him without delay, for he wanted a new set of shirts, and the thread must be with the weaver by Christmas."
When Sidonia heard this, she fell into a right rage in earnest--
"May the devil wring his ears, the peasant carl! To send such a message to a lady of her degree!"
Then she pitched the flax out of the door, and wanted to shove the dairy-woman out after it, but she stopped, and said--
"His worship gave all the nuns a bushel of seed for their trouble, and sowed it for them; so she had better do as the others did."
Sidonia, however, was not to be appeased--
"May the devil take her and her flax, if she did not trot out of that instantly."
So she pushed the poor woman out, and then panting and blowing with rage, asked Anna Apenborg to tell her what this boor of a sheriff was like?
Illa.--"He was a strange man. Ate fish every day, and always cooked the one way, namely, in beer. How this was possible she could not understand. To-day she heard he was to have pike for his dinner."
Hæc.--"Was she asking the fool what he ate? What did she care about his dinners? But what sort of man was he, and did all the nuns, in truth, spin for him?"
Illa.--"Ay, truly, except Barbara Schetzkow; she was dead now. But once when he went storming to her cell, she just turned him out, and so she had peace ever after. For he roared like a bear, but, in truth, was a cowardly rabbit, this same sheriff. And she heard, that one time, when he was challenged by a noble, he shrank away, and never stood up to his quarrel."
But just then in walked the sheriff himself, with a horse-whip in his hand. He was a thick-set, grey-headed fellow, and roared at Sidonia--
"What! thou old, lean hag--so thou wilt spin no flax? May the devil take thee, but thou shalt obey my commands!"
While he thus scolded, Sidonia quietly caught hold of the broom, and grasping it with both hands, gave such a blow with the handle on the grey pate of the sheriff, that he tumbled against the door, while she screamed out--
"Ha! thou peasant boor, take that for calling me a hag--the lady of castle and lands!"
Then she struck him again and again, till the sheriff at last got the door open and bolted out, running down the stairs as hard as he could, and into the courtyard, where, when he was safely landed, he shook the horsewhip up at Sidonia's windows, crying out--
"I will make you pay dear for this. Anna Apenborg was witness of the assault. I will swear information this very day before his Highness, how the hag assaulted me, the sheriff, and superintendent of the convent, in the performance of my duty, and pray him to deliver an honourable cloister from the presence of such a vagabond."
Then he went to the abbess, and begged her and the nuns to sustain him in his accusation--
"Such wickedness and arrogance had never yet been seen under the sun. Let the good abbess only feel his head; there was a lump as big as an egg on it. Truly, he had had a mind to horsewhip her black and blue; but that would have been illegal; so he thanked God that he had restrained himself."
Then he made the abbess feel his head again; also Anna Apenborg, who happened to come in that moment. But the worthy mother knew not what to do. She told the sheriff of Sidonia's behaviour as she drove into the convent; also how she had possessed herself of the refectory by force, refused to knit or spin, and had sent for her, the abbess, bidding her come to her, as if she were no better than a serving-wench.
At last the sheriff desired all the nuns to be sent for, and in their presence drew up a petition to his Highness, praying that the honourable convent might be delivered from the presence of this dragon, for that no peace could be expected within the walls until this vagabond and evil-minded old hag were turned out on the road again, or wherever else his Highness pleased. Every one present signed this, with the exception of Anna Apenborg and the sub-prioress, Dorothea Stettin. And many think that in consideration of this gentleness, Sidonia afterwards spared their lives, and did not bring them to a premature grave, like as she did the worthy abbess and others.
For the next time that she caught Anna at her old habit of listening, Sidonia said, while boxing her--
"You should get something worse than a box on the ear, only for your refusal to sign that lying petition to his Highness."
Summa.--After a few days, an answer arrived from his Grace the Duke of Stettin, and the abbess, with the sheriff, proceeded with it to Sidonia's apartment.
They found her brewing beer, an art in which she excelled; and the letter which they handed to her ran thus, according to the copy received likewise by the convent:--
"WE, BOGISLAFF, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, DUKE OF STETTIN, etc.
"Having heard from our sheriff and the pious sisterhood of Marienfliess, of thy unseemly behaviour, in causing uproars and tumults in the convent; further, of thy having struck our worthy sheriff on the head with a broom-stick--We hereby declare, desire, and command, that, unless thou givest due obedience to the authorities, lay and spiritual, doing this well, with humility and meekness, even as the other sisters, the said authorities shall have full power to turn thee out of the convent, by means of their bailiffs or otherwise, as they please, giving thee back again to that perdition from which thou wast rescued. Further, thou art herewith to deliver up the refectory to the abbess, of which We hear thou hast shamefully possessed thyself.
"Old Stettin, 10th November, 1603.
"BOGISLAFF."
Sidonia scarcely looked at the letter, but thrust it under the pot on the fire, where it soon blazed away to help the brewing, and exclaimed--
"They had forged it between them; the Prince never wrote a line of it. Nor would he have sent it to her by the hands of her enemies. Let it burn there. Little trouble would she take to read their villainy. But never fear, they should have something in return for their pains."
Hereupon she blew on them both, and they had scarcely reached the court, after leaving her apartment, when both were seized with excruciating pains in their limbs; both the sheriff and the abbess were affected in precisely the same way--a violent pain first in the little finger, then on through the hand, up the arm, finally, throughout the whole frame, as if the members were tearing asunder, till they both screamed aloud for very agony. Doctor Schwalenberg is sent for from Stargard, but his salve does no good; they grow worse rather, and their cries are dreadful to listen to, for the pain has become intolerable.
So my brave sheriff turns from a roaring ox into a poor cowardly hare, and sends off the dairy-woman with a fine haunch of venison and a sweetbread to Sidonia: "His worship's compliments to the illustrious lady with these, and begged to know if she could send him anything good for the rheumatism, which had attacked him quite suddenly. The Stargard doctor was not worth the air he breathed, and his salve had only made him worse in place of better. He would send the illustrious lady also some pounds of wax-lights; she might like them through the winter, but they were not made yet."
When Sidonia heard this she laughed loudly, danced about, and repeated the verse which was then heard for the first time from her lips; but afterwards she made use of it, when about any evil deed:--
"Also kleien und also kratzen, Meine Hunde und meine Katzen."
["So claw and so scratch, My dogs and my cats."]
The dairy-woman stood by in silent wonder, first looking at Sidonia, then at Wolde, who began to dance likewise, and chanted:--
"Also kleien und also kratzen, Unsre Hunde und unsre Katzen."
["So claw and so scratch, Our dogs and our cats."]
At last Sidonia answered, "This time I will help him; but if he ever bring the roaring ox out of the stall again, assuredly he will repent it."
Hereon the dairy-mother turned to depart, but suddenly stood quite still, staring at Anne Wolde; at length said, "Did I not see thee years ago spinning flax in my mother's cellar, when the folk wanted to bring thee to an ill end?"
But the hag denied it all--"The devil may have been in her mother's cellar, but she had never seen Marienfliess in her life before, till she came hither with this illustrious lady."
So the other seemed to believe her, and went out; and by the time she reached her master's door, his pains had all vanished, so that he rode that same day at noon to the hunt.
The poor abbess heard of all this through Anna Apenborg, and thereupon bethought herself of a little embassy likewise.
So she bid Anna take all sorts of good pastry, and a new kettle, and greet the Lady Sidonia from her--"Could the dear sister give her anything for the rheumatism?" She heard the sheriff was quite cured, and all the doctor's salves and plasters were only making her worse. She sent the dear sister a few dainties--item, a new kettle, as her own kettle had not yet arrived. Item, she begged her acceptance of all the furniture, etc., which she had lent her for her apartment.
At this second message, the horrible witch laughed and danced as before, repeating the same couplet; and the old hag, Wolde, danced behind her like her shadow.
Now Anna Apenborg's curiosity was excited in the highest degree at all this, and her feet began to beat up and down on the floor as if she were dying to dance likewise; at last she exclaimed, "Ah, dear lady! what is the meaning of that? Could you not teach it to me, if it cures the rheumatism? that is, if there be no devil's work in it (from which God keep us). I have twelve pounds of wool lying by me; will you take it, dear lady, for teaching me the secret?"
But Sidonia answered, "Keep your wool, good Anna, and I will keep my secret, seeing that it is impossible for me to teach it to you; for know, that a woman can only learn it of a man, and a man of a woman; and this we call the doctrine of sympathies. However, go your ways now, and tell the abbess that, if she does my will, I will visit her and see what I can do to help her; but, remember, my will she must do."
Hereupon sister Anna was all eagerness to know what her will was, but Sidonia bade her hold her tongue, and then locked up the viands in the press, while Wolde went into the kitchen with the kettle, where Anna Apenborg followed her slowly, to try and pick something out of the old hag, but without any success, as one may easily imagine.