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Sidonia The Sorceress V1

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And as the lads grew up, how she praised their beauty, and curled
their hair and beards herself, telling them they were not to think
of citizen wives, but to look after the richest and highest, for
the proudest in the land might be glad to get them as husbands. So
she prated away during her husband's absence, for he was in his
office all day and most part of the evening. And God knows, bad
fruit she brought forth with such rearing--not alone in Johann,
but also in his brother Wittich, who, as I afterwards heard, got
on no better in Pudgla, where he held the office of magistrate. So
true it is what the Scripture says, "A wise woman buildeth her
house, but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands" (Prov.
xiv.) Then, another Scripture, "As moths from a garment, so from a
woman wickedness" (Sirach xlii.)

For what did this fool do now? As soon as her upright and worthy
husband had left the house, forgetting and despising all his
admonitions respecting this son Johann, she called together all
her acquaintance, and kept up a gormandising and drinking day
after day, all to comfort her heart's dear pet Johann, who had
been used so harshly by his cross father. Think of her fine,
handsome son being stuck down all day to a clerk's desk. Ah! was
there ever such a tyrant as her husband to any one, but especially
to his own born children?

And so she went on complaining how she had thrown herself away
upon such a hard-hearted monster, and had refused so many fine
young carls, all to wed Satan himself at least. She could not make
out why God had sent such a curse upon her.

When the brave Johann heard all this, he begged money from his
mother, that he might seek another situation. Now that there was a
new duke in Stettin, he would assuredly get employment there, but
then he must treat all the young fellows and pages about the
court, otherwise they would not put in a good word for him.
Therefore he would give them a great carouse at the White Horse in
the Monk's Close, and then assuredly he would be appointed chief
equerry. So she believed every word he uttered; but as old Jacob
had carried away all the money that was in the house with him, she
sold the spices that had just come in, for a miserable sum, also
her own pearl earrings and fur mantle, that her dear heart's son
might have a gay carouse, to console him for all his father's hard
treatment.

_Summa_.--When the rogue had got all he could from her, he
took his father's best mare from the stable, and rode up to
Stettin, where he put up at the White Horse Inn, and soon scraped
acquaintance with all the idle young fellows about the court. So
they drank and caroused until Johann's last penny was spent, but
he had got no situation except in good promises. Truly the young
pages had mentioned him to the Duke, and asked the place of
equerry for their jovial companion, but his Highness, Duke Johann,
had heard too much of his doings at Wolgast, and would by no means
countenance him.

Then Johann bethought himself of Sidonia, for he had heard from
his boon companions that she was in the Duke's house behind St.
Mary's. And he remembered that purse embroidered with pearls and
diamonds which his father had given her, so he went many days
spying about the house, hoping to get a glimpse of Sidonia; but as
she never appeared, he resolved to gain admission by playing the
tailor. Wherefore, he tied on an apron, took a tailor's measure
and shears, and went straight up to the house, asking boldly, if a
young maiden named Sidonia did not live there? for he had got
orders to make her a garment. Now the baker's daughter, Trim
Wehlers, suspected all was not right, for she had seen my gay
youth spying about the house before, and staring up at all the
windows. However, she showed the tailor Sidonia's room, and then
set herself down to watch. But the wonders of Providence are
great. Although she could not hear a word they said, yet all that
passed in Sidonia's room was made evident--it was in this wise.
Just before the house rose up the church of St. Mary's, with all
its stately pillars, and as if God's house wished in wrath to
expose the wickedness of the pair, everything that passed in the
room was shadowed on these pillars; so when Trina observed this,
she ran for the other girls, crying, "Come here, come here, and
see how the two shadows are kissing each other. They can be no
other than Sidonia and her tailor. This would be fine news for our
gracious lord!" They would tell him the whole story when his
Highness came that evening, and so get rid of this proud, haughty
dragon who played the great lady amongst them, and ruled
everything her own way. Therefore they all set themselves to watch
for the tailor when he left Sidonia's room; but the whole day
passed, and he had not done with his measurement. Whereupon they
concluded she must have secreted him in her chamber.

Now the Duke had a private key of the house, and was in the habit
of walking over from Oderburg after dusk almost every evening; but
as there was no sign of him now, they despatched a messenger,
bidding him come quick to his house, and his Grace would hear and
see marvels. How the young girls gathered round him when he
entered, all telling him together about Sidonia. And when at last
he made out the story, his Grace fell into an unwonted rage (for
he was generally mild and good-tempered) that a poacher should get
into his preserves. So he runs to Sidonia's door and tries to open
it, but the bolts are drawn. Then he threatened to send for Master
Hansen if she did not instantly admit him, at which all the girls
laughed and clapped their hands with joy. Whereupon Sidonia at
last came to the door with looks of great astonishment, and
demanded what his Grace could want. It was bed-time, and so, of
course, she had locked her door to lie down in safety.

_Ille_.-"Where is that tailor churl who had come to her in
the morning?"

_Illa_.-"She knew nothing about him, except that he had gone
away long ago."

So the girls all screamed "No, no, that is not true! She and the
tailor had been kissing each other, as they saw by the shadows on
the wall, and making love."

Here Sidonia appeared truly horrified at such an accusation, for
she was a cunning hypocrite; and taking up the coif-block
[Footnote: A block for head-gears.] with an air of offended
dignity, said, turning to his Grace, "It was this coif-block,
methinks, I had at the window with me, and may those be accursed
who blackened me to your face." So the Duke half believed her, and
stood silent at the window; but Trina Wehlers cried out, "It is
false! it is false! a coif-block could not give kisses!" Whereupon
Sidonia in great wrath snatched up a robe that lay near her on a
couch, to hit the baker's daughter with it across the face. But
woe! woe! under the robe lay the tailor's cap, upon which all the
girls screamed out, "There is the cap! there is the cap! now we'll
soon find the tailor," pushing Sidonia aside, and beginning to
search in every nook and corner of the room. Heyday, what an
uproar there was now, when they caught sight of the tailor himself
in the chimney and dragged him down; but he dashed them aside with
his hands, right and left, so that many got bleeding noses, hit
his Grace, too, a blow as he tried to seize him, and rushed out of
the house.

Still the Duke had time to recognise the knave of Wolgast, and was
so angry at his having escaped him, that he almost beat Sidonia.
"She was at her old villainy. No good would ever come of her. He
saw that now with his own eyes. Therefore this very night she and
her baggage should pack off, to the devil if she chose, but he had
done with her for ever."

When Sidonia found that the affair was taking a bad turn, she
tried soft words, but in vain. His Highness ordered up her two
serving wenches to remove her and her luggage. And so, to the
great joy of the other girls, who laughed and screamed, and
clapped their hands, she was turned out, and having nowhere to go
to, put up once more at the White Horse Inn.

Now Johann knew nothing of this until next morning, when, as he
was toying with one of the maids, he heard a voice from the
window, "Johann! Johann! I will give thee the diamond." And
looking up, there was Sidonia. So the knave ran to her, and swore
he was only jesting with the maid in the court, for that he would
marry no one but her, as he had promised yesterday, only he must
first wait till he was made equerry, then he would obtain letters
of nobility, which could easily be done, as he was the son of a
_patricius_; but gold, gold was wanting for all this, and to
keep up with his friends at the court. Perhaps this very day he
might get the place, if he had only some good claret to entertain
them with; therefore she had better give him a couple of diamonds
from the purse. And so he went on with his lies and humbug, until
at last he got what he wanted.

Sidonia now felt so ashamed of her degradation, that she resolved
to leave the White Horse, and take a little lodging in the Monk's
Close until Johann obtained the post of equerry. But in vain she
hoped and waited. Every day the rogue came, he begged for another
pearl or diamond, and if she hesitated, then he swore it would be
the last, for this very day he was certain of the situation. At
last but two diamonds were left, and beg as he might, these he
should not have. Then he beat her, and ran off to the White Horse,
but came back again in less than an hour. Would she forgive him?
Now they would be happy at last; he had received his appointment
as chief equerry. His friends had behaved nobly and kept their
word, therefore he must give them a right merry carouse out of
gratitude; she might as well hand him those two little diamonds.
Now they would want for nothing at last, but live like princes at
the table of his Highness the Duke. Would she not be ready to
marry him immediately?

Thereupon the unfortunate Sidonia handed over her two last jewels,
but never laid eyes on the knave for two days after, when he came
to tell her it was all up with him now, the traitors had deceived
him, he had got no situation, and unless she gave him more money
or jewels he never could marry her. She had still golden armlets
and a gold chain, let her go for them, he must see them, and try
what he could get for them. But he begged in vain. Then he
stormed, swore, threatened, beat her, and finally rushed out of
the house declaring that she might go to the devil, for as to him
he would never give himself any further trouble about her.




CHAPTER VII.

_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,
[Footnote: 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.




CHAPTER VIII.

_How Johann and Sidonia meet an adventure, at Alten Damm--Item,
of their reception by the robber-band._


Now Johann Appelmann had a grudge against the newly appointed
equerry to his Highness, for the man had swilled his claret, and
been foremost in his promises, and yet now had stepped into the
place himself, and left Johann in the lurch. The knave, therefore,
determined on revenge; so invented a story, how that his father,
old Appelmann, had sent for him to give him half of all he was
worth, and as he must journey to Stargard directly, he prayed his
friend the equerry to lend him a couple of horses and a waggon out
of the ducal stables, with harness and all that would be
necessary, swearing that when he brought them back he would give
him and his other friends such a carouse at the inn, as they had
never yet had in their lives.

And when the other asked, would not one horse be sufficient,
Johann replied no, that he required the waggon for his luggage,
and two horses would be necessary to draw it. _Summa_, the
fool gives him two beautiful Andalusian stallions, with harness
and saddles; _item_, a waggon, whereon my knave mounted next
morning early, with Sidonia and her luggage, and took the miller,
Konneman, with him as driver.

But as they passed through Alten Damm, a strange adventure
happened, whereby the all-merciful God, no doubt, wished to turn
them from their evil way; but they flung His warnings to the wind.

For the carl was going to be executed who belonged to the
robber-band, that had committed a burglary there, in the town,
some days previously. However, the gallows having been blown down
by a storm, the linen-weavers, according to old usage, came to
erect another. This angered the millers, who also began to erect
one of their own, declaring that the weavers had only a right to
supply the ladder, but they were to erect the gallows. A great
fight now arose between weavers and millers, while the poor thief
stood by with his hands tied behind his back, and arrayed in his
winding-sheet. But the sheriffs, and whatever other honourable
citizens were by, having in vain endeavoured to appease the
quarrel, returned to the inn, to take the advice of the honourable
council.

Just at this moment Johann and Sidonia drove into the middle of
the crowd, and the former leaped off and laughed heartily, for a
miller had thrown down a poor lean weaver close behind the
criminal, and was belabouring him stoutly with his floured fists,
whilst the poor wretch screamed loudly for succour or assistance
to the criminal, who answered in his _Platt Deutsch_, "I
cannot help thee, friend, for, see, my hands are bound." Upon
this, Johann draws his knife from his girdle, and slipping behind
the felon, cuts the ropes binding him.

He straightway, finding himself free, jumped upon the miller, and
turned the flour all red upon his face with his heavy blows. Then
he ran towards the waggon, but the guardsman caught hold of him by
the shoulder, so the poor wretch left the winding-sheet in his
hand, and jumping, naked as he was, on the back of one of the
horses, set off, at top speed, to the forest, with Sidonia
screaming and roaring fleeing with him.

Millers and weavers now left off their wrangling, and joined
together in pursuit, but in vain; the fellow soon distanced them
all, and was lost to sight in the wood.

When he had driven the waggon a good space, and still hearing the
roaring of the people in pursuit, he stopped the horses, and
jumped off, to take to his heels amongst the trees. Whereupon
Konneman threw him a horse-cloth from the waggon, bidding him
cover himself with it; so the carl snapped it up, and rolled it
about his body with all alacrity. Now this horse-cloth was
embroidered with the Pomeranian arms, and the poor Adam looked so
absurd running away in such a garment, that Sidonia,
notwithstanding all her fright, could not help bursting into a
loud mocking laughter.

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