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Sidonia The Sorceress V1

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So her Grace rejoiced over Sidonia's departure, but could not
consent to send away the young knights. Her beloved husband and
lord, Philippus Primus, always kept a retinue of such young
nobles, and all the princely courts did the same. What would her
cousin of Brandenburg and Mecklenburg say, when they heard that
she had no longer knights or pages at her court? She feared her
princely name would be mentioned with disrespect.

So Ulrich replied, that at all events, this set of young
boisterers must be sent off, as they had grown too wild and
licentious to be endured any longer; and that he would select a
new retinue for her Grace from the discreetest and most
sober-minded young knights of the court. Marcus Bork, however,
might remain; he was true, loyal, and brave--not a wine-bibber and
profligate like the others.

So her Grace at last consented, seeing that no good would come of
these young men now; on the contrary, they would be more daring
and riotous than ever from rage, when they found that Sidonia had
been sent away; and that business of the window-smashing and the
goat demanded severe punishment. So let Ulrich look out for a new
household; these gay libertines would be sent away.

While she was speaking, the door opened, and Prince Ernest entered
the chamber, looking so pale and haggard, that her Grace clasped
her hands together, and asked him, with terror, what had happened.

_Ille._--"Did she ask what had happened, when all Pomerania
rung with it?--when nobles were beheaded before her face as if
they were nothing more than beggars' brats?--when the delicate and
high-born Lady Sidonia, who had been entrusted to her care by Duke
Barnim himself, was turned out of the castle in the middle of the
night as if she were a street-girl, because, forsooth, she would
not learn her catechism? The world would scarcely credit such
scandalous acts, and yet they were all true. But to-morrow (if
this weakness which had come over him allowed of it) he would set
off for Stettin, also to Berlin and Schwerin, and tell the princes
there, his cousins, what government they held in Wolgast. He would
soon be twenty, and would then take matters into his own hands;
and he would pray his guardian and dear uncle, Duke Barnim, to
pronounce him at once of age; then the devil might take Ulrich and
his government, but he would rule the castle his own way."

_Her Grace_.--"But what did he complain of? What ailed him?
She must know this first, for he was looking as pale as a corpse."

_Ille_.--"Did she not know, then, what ailed him? Well, since
he must tell her, it was anger-anger that made him so pale and
weak."

_Her Grace_.--"Anger, was it? Anger, because the false
wanton, Sidonia, had been removed by her orders from her princely
castle? Ah! she knew now what the wanton had come there for; but
would he kill his mother? She nearly sank upon the ground last
night when he called the impudent wench his bride. But she forgave
him; it must have been the wine he drank made him so forget
himself; or was it possible that he spoke in earnest?"

_Ille_ (sighing).--"The future will tell that." "Oh, woe is
me! what must I live to hear? If thy father could look up from his
grave, and see thee disgracing thy princely blood by a marriage
with a bower maiden!--. thou traitorous, disobedient son, do not
lie to me. I know from thy sighs what thy purpose is--for this
thou art going to Stettin and Berlin."

The Prince is silent, and looks down upon the ground.

_Her Grace_.--"Oh, shame on thee! shame on thee for the sake
of thy mother! shame on thee for the sake of this servant of God,
thy second father, this old man here! What! a vile knave strike
thy mother, before the face of all the court, and thou condemnest
him because he avenged her! Truly thou art a fine, brave son, to
let thy mother be struck before thy face, for the sake of a
harlot. Canst thou deny it? I conjure thee by the living God, tell
me is it thy true purpose to take this harlot to thy wife?"

_Ille_.--"He could give but one answer, the future would
decide."

_Her Grace_ (weeping).--"Oh, she was reserved for all
misfortunes! Why did Doctor Martinus let her ring fall? All, all
has followed from that! If he had chosen a good, humble, honest
girl, she would say nothing; but this wanton, this light maiden,
that ran after every carl and let them court her!"

Here the young Prince was seized with such violent convulsions
that he fell upon the floor, and her Grace raised him up with loud
lamentations. He was carried in a dead faint to his chamber, and
the court physician, Doctor Pomius, instantly summoned. Doctor
Pomius was a pompous little man (for my father knew him well), dry
and smart in his words, and with a face like a pair of
nutcrackers, for his front teeth were gone, so that his lips
seemed dried on his gums, like the skin of a mummy. He was withal
too self-conceited and boastful, and malicious, full of gossip and
ill-nature, and running down every one that did not believe that
he (Doctor Pomius) was the only learned physician in the world.
Following the celebrated rules laid down by Theophrastus
Paracelsus, he cured everything with trash--and asses' dung was
his infallible panacea for all complaints. This pharmacopoeia was
certainly extremely simple, easily obtained, and universal in its
application. If the dung succeeded, the doctor drew himself up,
tossed his head, and exclaimed, "What Doctor Pomius orders always
succeeds." But if the wretched patient slipped out of his hands
into the other world, he shook his head and said, "There is an
hour for every man to die; of course his had come--physicians
cannot work miracles."

Pomius hated every other doctor in the town, and abused them so
for their ignorance and stupidity, that finally her Grace believed
that no one in the world knew anything but Doctor Pomius, and that
a vast amount of profound knowledge was expressed, if he only put
his finger to the end of his nose, as was his habit.

So, as I have said, she summoned him to attend the young lord; and
after feeling his pulse and asking some questions respecting his
general health, the doctor laid his finger, as usual, to his nose,
and pronounced solemnly--"The young Prince must immediately take a
dose of asses' dung stewed in wine, with a little of the
_laudanum paracelsi_ poured in afterwards--this will restore
him certainly."

But it was all in vain; for the young Prince still continued day
and night calling for Sidonia, and neither the Duchess nor Doctor
Gerschovius could in any wise comfort him. This afflicted her
Grace almost to the death; and by Ulrich's advice, she despatched
her second son, Duke Barnim the younger, and Dagobert von
Schwerin, to the court of Brunswick, to solicit in her name the
hand of the young Princess Sophia Hedwig, for her son Ernest
Ludovicus. Now, in the whole kingdom, there was no more beautiful
princess than Sophia of Brunswick; and her Grace was filled with
hope that, by her means, the influence of the detestable Sidonia
over the heart of the young lord would be destroyed for ever.

In due time the ambassadors returned, with the most favourable
answer. Father, mother, and daughter all gave consent; and the
Duke of Brunswick also forwarded by their hands an exquisite
miniature of his beautiful daughter for Prince Ernest.

This miniature her Grace now hung up beside his bed. Would he not
look at the beautiful bride she had selected for him? Could there
be a more lovely face in all the German empire? What was Sidonia
beside her, but a rude country girl!--would he not give her up at
last, this light wench? While, on the contrary, this illustrious
princess was as virtuous as she was beautiful, and this the whole
court of Brunswick could testify.

But the young lord would give no heed to her Grace, and spat out
at the picture, and cried to take away the daub--into the fire
with it--anywhere out of his sight. Unless his dear, his beautiful
Sidonia came to tend him, he would die--he felt that he was dying.

So her Grace took counsel with old Ulrich, and Doctor Pomius, and
the priest, what could be done now. The doctor mentioned that he
must have been witch-struck. Then more doctors were sent for from
the Grypswald, but all was in vain--no one knew what ailed him;
and from day to day he grew worse.

Clara von Dewitz now bitterly reproached herself for having
concealed her suspicions about the love-drink from her
Grace--though indeed she did so by desire of her betrothed, Marcus
Bork. But now, seeing that the young Prince lay absolutely at the
point of death, she could no longer hold her peace, but throwing
herself on her knees before her Grace, told her the whole story of
the witch-girl whom she had sheltered in the castle, and of her
fears that Sidonia had learned from her how to brew a
love-philtre, which she had afterwards given to the Prince.

Her Grace was sore displeased with Clara for having kept all this
a secret, and said that she would have expected more wisdom and
discretion from her, seeing that she had always counted her the
most worthy amongst her maidens; then she summoned Ulrich, and
laid the evil matter before him. He shook his head; believed that
they had hit on the true cause now. Such a sickness had nothing
natural about it--there must be magic and witchwork in it; but he
would have the whole land searched for the girl, and make her give
the young lord some potion that would take off the spell.

Now the witch-girl had been pardoned a few days before that, and
sent back to Usdom, near Daber; but bailiffs were now sent in all
directions to arrest her, and bring her again to Wolgast without
delay.

So the wretched creature was discovered, before long, in Kruge,
near Mahlzow, where she had hired herself as a spinner for the
winter, and brought before Ulrich and her Grace. She was there
admonished to tell the whole truth, but persisted in asseverating
that Sidonia had never learned from her how to make a love-drink.
Her statement, however, was not believed; and Master Hansen was
summoned, to try and make her speak more. The affair, indeed,
appeared so serious to Ulrich, that he himself stood by while she
was undergoing the torture, and carried on the _protocollum_,
calling out to Master Hansen occasionally not to spare his
squeezes. But though the blood burst from her finger-ends, and her
hip was put out of joint, so that she limped ever after, she
confessed nothing more, nor did she alter the statement which she
had first made.

_Item_, her Grace, and the priest, and all the bystanders
exhorted her in vain to confess the truth (for her Grace was
present at the torture). At last she cried out, "Yes, I know
something that will cure him! Mercy! mercy! and I will tell it."

So they unbound her, and she was going straightway to make her
witch-potion, but old Ulrich changed his mind. Who could know
whether this devil's fiend was telling them the truth? May be she
would kill the young lord in place of curing him. So they gave her
another stretch upon the rack. But as she still held by all her
assertions, they spared her any further torture.

But, in my opinion, the young lord must have obtained something
from her, otherwise he could not have recovered all at once the
moment that Sidonia was brought back, as I shall afterwards
relate.

_Sum total_.--The young Prince screamed day and night for
Sidonia, and told her Grace that he now felt he was dying, and
requested, as his last prayer upon this earth, to be allowed to
see her once more. The maiden was an angel of goodness; and if she
could but close his dying eyes, he would die happy.

It can be easily imagined with what humour her Grace listened to
such a request, for she hated Sidonia like Satan himself; but as
nothing else could satisfy him, she promised to send for her, if
Prince Ernest would solemnly swear, by the corpse of his father,
that he would never wed her, but select some princess for his
bride, as befitted his exalted rank--the Princess Hedwig, or some
other--as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to be able to quit
his bed. So he quickly stretched forth his thin, white hand from
the bed, and promised his dearly beloved mother to do all she had
asked, if she would only send horsemen instantly to Stettin, for
the journey by water was insecure, and might be tedious if the
wind were not favourable.

Hereupon a great murmur arose in the castle; and young Duke
Bogislaus fell into such a rage that he took his way back again to
Camyn, and his younger brother, Barnim, accompanied him. But the
anger of the Grand Chamberlain no words can express. He told her
Grace, in good round terms, that she would be the mock of the
whole land. The messengers had only just returned who had carried
away Sidonia from the castle under the greatest disgrace; and now,
forsooth, they must ride back again to bring her back with all
honour.

"Oh, it was all true, quite true; but then, if her dearest son
Ernest were to die--"

_Ille_.--"Let him die. Better lose his life than his honour."

_Hæc_.--"He would not peril his honour, for he had sworn by
the corpse of his father never to wed Sidonia."

_Ille_.--"Ay, he was quick enough in promising, but
performing was a different thing. Did her Grace think that the
passion of a man could be controlled by promises, as a tame horse
by a bridle? Never, never. Passion was a wild horse, that no bit,
or bridle, or curb could guide, and would assuredly carry his
rider to the devil."

_Her Grace_.--"Still she could not give up her son to death;
besides, he would repent and see his folly. Did not God's Word
tell us how the prodigal son returned to his father, and would not
her son return likewise?"

_Ille_.--"Ay, when he has kept swine. After that he may
return, but not till then. The youngster was as great a fool about
women as he had ever come across in his life."

_Her Grace_ (weeping).--"He was too harsh on the young man.
Had she not sent away the girl at his command; and now he would
let her own child die before her eyes, without hope or
consolation?"

_Ille_.--"But if her child is indeed dying, would she send
for the devil to attend him in his last moments? Her Grace should
be more consistent. If the young lord is dying, let him die; her
Grace has other children, and God will know how to comfort her.
Had he not been afflicted himself? and let her ask Dr. Gerschovius
if the Lord had not spoken peace unto him."

_Her Grace_.--"Ah, true; but then neither of them are
mothers. Her son is asking every moment if the messengers have
departed, and what shall she answer him? She cannot lie, but must
tell the whole bitter truth."

_Ille_.--"He saw the time had come at last for him to follow
the young princes. He was of no use here any longer. Her Grace
must give him permission to take his leave, for he would sail off
that very day for his castle at Spantekow, and then she might do
as she pleased respecting the young lord."

So her Grace besought him not to leave her in her sore trouble and
perplexity. Her two sons had sailed away, and there was no one
left to advise and comfort her.

But Ulrich was inflexible. "She must either allow her son quietly
to leave this miserable life, or allow him to leave this miserable
court service."

"Then let him go to Spantekow. Her son should be saved. She would
answer before the throne of the Almighty for what she did. But
would he not promise to return, if she stood in any great need or
danger? for she felt that both were before her; still she must
peril everything to save her child."

_Ille_.--"Yes, he would be ready on her slightest summons;
and he doubted not but that Sidonia would soon give her trouble
and sorrow enough. But he could not remain now, without breaking
his knightly oath to Duke Philip, his deceased feudal seigneur of
blessed memory, and standing before the court and the world as a
fool."

So after many tears her Grace gave him his dismissal, and he rode
that same day to Spantekow, promising to return if she were in
need, and also to send her a new retinue and household
immediately.

This last arrangement displeased Marcus Bork mightily, for he had
many friends amongst the knights who were now to be dismissed, and
so he, too, prayed her Grace for leave to resign his office and
retire from court. He had long looked upon Clara von Dewitz with a
holy Christian love, and, if her Grace permitted, he would now
take her home as his dear loving wife.

Her Grace replied that she had long suspected this
betrothal--particularly from the time that Clara told her of his
advice respecting the concealment of the witch-girl's visit to
Sidonia; and as he had acted wrongly in that business, he must now
make amends by not deserting her in her greatest need. Her sons
and old Ulrich had already left her; some one must remain in whom
she could place confidence. It would be time enough afterwards to
bring home his beloved wife Clara, and she would wish them God's
blessing on their union.

_Ille_.--"True, he had been wrong in concealing that business
with the witch-girl, but her Grace must pardon him. He never
thought it would bring the young lord to his dying bed. Whatever
her Grace now commanded he would yield obedience to."

"Then," said her Grace, "do you and Appelmann mount your horses
instantly, ride to Stettin, and bring back Sidonia. For her dearly
beloved son had sworn that he could not die easy unless he beheld
Sidonia once more, and that she attended him in his last moments."

It may be easily imagined how the good knight endeavoured to
dissuade her Highness from this course, and even spoke to the
young Prince himself, but in vain. That same day he and Appelmann
were obliged to set off for Stettin, and on their arrival
presented the following letter to old Duke Barnim:--

"MARIA, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, BORN DUCHESS OF SAXONY, &c.

"ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE AND MY DEAR UNCLE,--It has not been concealed
from your Highness how our clear son Ernest Ludovicus, since the
departure of Sidonia, has fallen, by the permission of God, into
such a state of bodily weakness that his life even stands in
jeopardy.

"He has declared that nothing will restore him but to see Sidonia
once more. We therefore entreat your Highness, after admonishing
the aforesaid maiden severely upon her former light and unseemly
behaviour, to dismiss her with our messengers, that they may
return and give peace and health to our dearly beloved son.

"If your Highness would enjoy a hunt or a fishing with a tame
sea-gull, it would give us inexpressible pleasure.

"We commend you lovingly to God's holy keeping.

"Given from our Castle of Wolgast, this Friday, April 15, 1569.

"MARIA."




CHAPTER XIV.

_How Duke Barnim of Stettin and Otto Bork accompany Sidonia back
to Wolgast._


When his Highness of Stettin had finished the perusal of her
Grace's letter, he laughed loudly, and exclaimed--

"This comes of all their piety and preachings. I knew well what
this extravagant holiness would make of my dear cousin and old
Ulrich. If people would persist in being so wonderfully religious,
they would soon become as sour as an old cabbage head; and Sidonia
declared, that, for her part, a hundred horses should not drag her
back to Wolgast, where she had been lectured and insulted, and all
because she would not learn her catechism like a little
school-girl."

Nor would Otto Bork hear of her returning. (He was waiting at
Stettin to conduct her back to Stramehl.) At last, however, he
promised to consent, on condition that his Highness would grant
him the dues on the Jena.

Now the Duke knew right well that Otto wanted to revenge himself
upon the people of Stargard, with whom he was at enmity; but he
pretended not to observe the cunning knight's motives, and merely
replied--

"They must talk of the matter at Wolgast, for nothing could be
decided upon without having the opinion of his cousin the
Duchess."

So the knight taking this as a half-promise, and Sidonia having at
last consented, they all set off on Friday with a good south wind
in their favour, and by that same evening were landed by the
little water-gate at Wolgast. His Highness was received with
distinguished honours--the ten knights of her Grace's new
household being in waiting to receive him as he stepped on shore.

So they proceeded to the castle, the Duke having Sidonia upon one
arm, and a Cain under the other, which he had been carving during
the passage, for the Eve had long since been finished. Otto
followed; and all the people, when they beheld Sidonia, uttered
loud cries of joy that the dear young lady had come back to them.

This increased her arrogance, so that when her Grace received her,
and began a godly admonishment upon her past levities, and
conjured her to lead a modest, devout life for the future, Sidonia
replied indiscreetly--"She knew not what her Grace and her parson
meant by a modest, devout life, except it were learning the
catechism of Dr. Gerschovius; from such modesty and devoutness she
begged to be excused, she was no little school-girl now--she
thought her Grace had got rid of all her whims and caprices, by
sending for her after having turned her out of the castle without
any cause whatever--but it was all the old thing over again."

Her Grace coloured up with anger at this bitter speech, but held
her peace. Then Otto addressed her, and begged leave to ask her
Grace what kind of order was held at her court, where a priest was
allowed to slap the fingers of a noble young maiden, and a
chamberlain to smite her on the face? Had he known that such were
the usages at her court of Wolgast, the Lady Sidonia (such he
delighted to call her, as though she were of princely race) never
should have entered it, and he would now instantly take her back
to Stramehl, if her Grace would not consent to give him up the
dues on the Jena.

Now her Grace knew nothing about the dues, and therefore said,
turning to the Duke--"Dear uncle, what does this arrogant knave
mean? I do not comprehend his insolent speech." Hereupon Otto
chafed with rage, that her Grace had named him with such contempt,
and cried--"Then was your husband a knave, too! for my blood is as
noble and nobler than your own, and I am lord of castles and
lands. Come, my daughter; let us leave the robbers' den, or mayhap
thy father will be struck even as thou wert."

Now her Grace knew not what to do, and she lamented loudly--more
particularly because at this moment a message arrived from Prince
Ernest, praying her for God's sake to bring Sidonia to him, as he
understood that she had been in the castle now a full quarter of
an hour. Then old Otto laughed loudly, took his daughter by the
hand, and cried again, "Come--let us leave this robber hole. Come,
Sidonia!"

This plunged her Grace into despair, and she exclaimed in anguish,
"Will you not have pity on my dying child?" but Otto continued,
"Come, Sidonia! come, Sidonia!" and he drew her by the hand.

Here Duke Barnim rose up and said, "Sir Knight, be not so
obstinate. Remember it is a sorrowing mother who entreats you. Is
it not true, Sidonia, you will remain here?"

Then the cunning hypocrite lifted her kerchief to her eyes, and
replied, "If I did not know the catechism of Doctor Gerschovius,
yet I know God's Word, and how the Saviour said, 'I was sick and
ye visited Me,' and James also says, 'The prayer of faith shall
save the sick.' No, I will not let this poor young lord die, if my
visit and my prayer can help him."

"No, no," exclaimed Otto, "thou shall not remain, unless the dues
of the Jena be given up to me." And as at this moment another page
arrived from Prince Ernest, with a similar urgent request for
Sidonia to come to him, her Grace replied quickly, "I promise all
that you desire," without knowing what she was granting; so the
knight said he was content, and let go his daughter's hand.

Now the good town of Stargard would have been ruined for ever by
this revengeful man, if his treacherous designs had not been
defeated (as we shall see presently) by his own terrible death. He
had long felt a bitter hatred to the people of Stargard, because
at one time they had leagued with the Greifenbergers and the Duke
of Pomerania to ravage his town of Stramehl, in order to avenge an
insult he had offered to the old burgomaster, Jacob Appelmann,
father of the chief equerry, Johann Appelmann. In return for this
outrage, Otto determined, if possible, to get the control of the
dues of the Jena into his own hands, and when the Stargardians
brought their goods and provisions up the Jena, and from thence
prepared to enter the river Haff, he would force them to pay such
exorbitant duty upon everything, that the merchants and the
people, in short, the whole town, would be ruined, for their whole
subsistence and merchandise came by these two rivers, and all this
was merely to gratify his revenge. But the just God graciously
turned away the evil from the good town, and let it fall upon
Otto's own head, as we shall relate in its proper place.

So, when the old knight had let go his daughter's hand, her Grace
seized it, and went instantly with Sidonia to the chamber of the
young lord, all the others following. And here a moving scene was
witnessed, for as they entered, Prince Ernest extended his thin,
pale hands towards Sidonia, exclaiming, "Sidonia, ah, dearest
Sidonia, have you come at last to nursetend me?" then he took her
little hand, kissed it, and bedewed it with his tears, still
repeating, "Sidonia, dearest Sidonia, have you come to nursetend
me?"

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