A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Sidonia The Sorceress V1

W >> William Mienhold >> Sidonia The Sorceress V1




"And as we all sprang up, in strode the devil himself bodily, with
his horse's foot and cocks' feathers, and a long calf's tail,
making the most horrible grimaces, and shaking his long hair at
us. Fire came out of his mouth and nostrils, and roaring like a
wild boar, he seized the little dwarf (whom you may remember,
Sidonia), tucked him under his arm like a cock--and just as he was
uttering a curse over his good game being interrupted--and cut his
head clean off; then, throwing the head at me, growled forth--

"'Every day one,
Only Sundays none"

and disappeared through the door like a flash of lightning,
carrying the headless trunk along with him.

"When my comrades heard that the devil was to carry off one of
them every day but Sunday, they all set up a screaming, like so
many rooks when a shot is fired in amongst them, and rushed out in
the night, seizing hold of horses or waggons, or whatever they
could lay their hands on, and rode away east and west, and west
and east, or north and south, as it may be.

"_Summa_.--When I came to my senses (for I had sunk down
insensible from horror, when the head of the dwarf was thrown at
me), I found that the said head had bit me by the arm, so that I
had to drag it away by force; then I looked about me, and every
knave had fled--even my waggon had been carried off, and not a
soul was left in the place of all these fine fellows, who had
sworn to be true to me till death.

"This base desertion nearly broke my heart, and I resolved to
change my course of life and go to some pious priest for
confession, telling him how the devil had first tempted me to sin,
and then punished me in this terrible manner (as, indeed, I well
deserved).

"So next morning I took my way to the town, after observing, to my
great annoyance, that the castle could have been as easily taken
as a bird's nest; and seeing a beer-glass painted on a sign-board,
I guessed that here was the inn. Truth to say, my heart wanted
strengthening sorely, and I entered. There was a pretty wench
washing crabs in the kitchen, and as I made up to her, after my
manner, to have a little pastime, she drew back and said,
laughing, 'May the devil take you, as he took the others last
night in the barn!' upon which she laughed again so loud and long,
that I thought she would have fallen down, and could not utter a
word more for laughing.

"This seemed a strange thing to me, for I had never heard a
Christian man, much less a woman, laugh when the talk was of the
bodily Satan himself. So I asked what there was so pleasant in the
thought? whereupon she related what the young knight Dinnies
Kleist had done to save his castle from the robbers. I would not
believe her, but while I sat myself down on a bench to drink, the
host comes in and confirmed her story. _Summa_, I let the
conversion lie over for a time yet, and set about looking for my
comrades, but not finding one, I fell into despair, and resolved
to get into Poland, and take service in the army there--especially
as all my money had vanished."

Here the old parson said that Sidonia cried out, "How now, sir
knave, you are going to buy castle and lands forsooth, and have no
money? Truly the base villain is deceiving me yet again."

But my knave answered, "Alas! woe that thou shouldst think so
hardly of me! Have I not told thee that my father is going to give
me my heritage? So listen further what I tell thee:--In Poland I
met with Konnemann and Stephen Pruski, who had one of my waggons
with them, in which all my gold was hid, and when I threatened to
complain to the authorities, the cowards let me have my own
property again, on condition that I would take them into my
service, when I went to live at my own castle. This I promised;
therefore they are here with me, as you see. And Konnemann went
lately to my father at my request, and brought me back the joyful
intelligence that he would assign me over my portion of his goods
and property."

So far the Pastor Rehewinkelensis heard. What follows concerning
the wicked knave was related by his own sorrowing father to my
worthy father-in-law, along with other pious priests, and from him
I had the story when I visited him at Marienfliess.

For what was my knave's next act? When he returned to the town,
and heard from his comrades that the coachman of Saatzig was
snoring away there in the stable with open mouth, he stuffed in
some hay to prevent him screaming, and tied him hands and feet,
then drew his horses out of the stall, yoked them to the carriage,
and drove it himself a little piece out of the town down into the
hollow, then went back for Sidonia, telling her that her stupid
coachman had made some mistake and driven off without her, but he
had put all her baggage on his own carriage, which was now quite
ready, if she would walk with him a little way just outside the
town. Hereupon she paid the reckoning, mine host troubling himself
little about the affair of the waggon, and they set off on foot.

When they reached the carriage, Sidonia asked if all her baggage
were really there, for she could not see in the darkness. And when
she felt, and reckoned all her bundles and trunks, and found all
right, my knave said, "Now, she saw herself that he meant truly by
her. Here was even a nice place made in the straw sack for her,
where he had sat down first himself, that she might have an easy
seat. _Item_, she now saw his own carriage which he had
fished up in Poland and kept till now, that he might travel in it
to Bruchhausen to receive his heritage, and he was going there
this very night. She saw that he had lied in nothing."

Whereupon Sidonia got into the carriage with him, never
discovering his knavery on account of the darkness, and about
midnight they reached the inn at Bruchhausen.




CHAPTER XVIII.

_How a new leaf is turned over at Bruchhausen in a very fearful
manner--Old Appelmann takes his worthless son prisoner, and
admonishes him to repentance--Of Johann's wonderful conversion,
and execution next morning in the churchyard, Sidonia being
present thereby._


My knave halted a little way before they reached the inn, for he
had his suspicions that all was not quite right, and sent on the
forenamed Pruski to ascertain whether the money was really come
for him. For there was a bright light in the tap-room, and the
sound of many voices, which was strange, seeing that it was late
enough for every one to be in bed. Pruski was back again
soon--yes, it was all right. There were men in there from
Stargard, who said they had brought gold for the young
burgomaster.

Marry! how my knave jumped down from the carriage, and brought
Sidonia along with him, bidding Pruski to stay and watch the
things. But, behold, as my knave entered, six men seized him,
bound him firmly, and bid him sit down quietly on a bench by the
table, till his father arrived. So he cursed and swore, but this
was no help to him; and when Sidonia saw that she had been
deceived again, she tried to slip out and get to the carriage, but
the men stopped her, saying, unless she wished a pair of handcuffs
on, she had better sit down quietly on another bench opposite
Johann. And she asked in vain what all this meant. _Item_, my
knave asked in vain, but no one answered them.

They had not long been waiting, when a carriage stopped before the
door, more voices were heard, and, alas! who should enter but the
old burgomaster himself, with Mag. Vito, Diaconus of St. John's.
And after them came the executioner, with six assistants bearing a
black coffin.

My knave now turned as white as a corpse, and trembled like an
aspen leaf; no word could he utter, but fell with his back against
the wall. Then a dead silence reigned throughout the chamber, and
Sidonia looked as white as her paramour.

When the assistants had placed the coffin on the ground, the old
father advanced to the table, and spake thus--"Oh, thou fallen and
godless child! thou thrice lost son! how often have I sought to
turn thee from evil, and trusted in thy promises; but in place of
better, thou hast grown worse, and wickedness has increased in
thee day by day, as poison in the young viper. On thy infamous
hands lie so many robberies, murders, and seductions, that they
cannot be reckoned. I speak not of past years, for then truly the
night would not be long enough to count them; I speak only of thy
last deeds in Poland, as old Elias von Wedel related them to me
yesterday in Stargard. Deny, if thou darest, here in the face of
thy death and thy coffin, how thou didst join thyself to the
Lansquenets in Poland, and then along with two vile fellows got
entrance into Lembrowo, telling the old castellan, Elias von
Wedel, that thou wast a labourer, upon which he took thee into his
service. But at night thou (O wicked son!) didst rise up and beat
the old Elias almost unto death, demanding all his money, which,
when he refused, thou and thy robber villains seized his cattle
and his horses, and drove them away with thee. _Item_, canst
thou deny that on meeting the same old Elias at Norenberg by the
hunt in the forest, thou didst mock him, and ask, would he sell
his castle of Lembrowo in Poland, for thou wouldst buy it of him,
seeing thy father had promised thee plenty of gold?

"_Item_, canst thou deny having written me a threatening
letter, declaring that if by this very night a hundred dollars
were not sent to thee here at Bruchhausen, a red beacon should
rise up from my sheepfolds and barns, which meant nothing else
than that thou wouldst burn the whole good town of Stargard, for
thou knowest well that all the sheepfolds and barns of the
burghers adjoin one to the other? Canst thou deny this, O thou
lost son? If so, deny it now."

Here Johann began again with his old knavery. He wept, and threw
himself on the ground, crawling under the table to get to his
father's feet, then howled forth, that he repented of his sins,
and would lead a better life truly for the future, if his hard,
stern father would only forgive him now.

But Sidonia screamed aloud, and as the burgomaster in his sorrow
had not observed her before, he turned his eyes now on her, and
exclaimed, "Woe, alas! thou godless son, hast thou this noble
maiden with thee yet? I thought she was at Saatzig; or perchance
thou hast made her thy wife?"

_Ille_.--"Alas, no; but he would marry her soon, to make
amends for the wrong he had done her."

_Hic_.--"This thou hast ten times promised, but in vain, and
thy sins have increased a hundredfold; because, like all
profligates, thou hast shunned the holy estate of matrimony, and
preferred to wallow in the mire of unchastity, with any one who
fell in the way of thy adulterous and licentious eyes."

_Ille_.--"Alas! his heart's dearest father was right; but he
would amend his evil life; and, in proof of it, let the reverend
deacon, M. Vitus, here present, wed him now instantly to Sidonia."

_Hic_.--"It is too late. I counsel thee rather to wed thy
poor soul to the holy Saviour, like the repentant thief on the
cross. See--here is a priest, and there is a coffin."

Here the executioner broke in upon the old, deeply afflicted
father, telling him the coffin was too short, as, indeed, his
worship had told him, but he would not believe the young man was
so tall. Where could he put the head? It must be stuck between his
feet, or under his arm, cried out another. So some proposed one
thing and some another, till a great uproar arose.

Upon which the old mourning father cried out--"Do you want to
break my heart? Is there not time enough to talk of this after?"

Then he turned again to his profligate son, and asked him--

"Would he not repent, and take the holy body and blood of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ, as a passport with him on this long
journey? If so, let him go into the little room and pray with the
priest, and repent of his sins; there was yet time."

_Ille_.--"Alas, he had repented already. What had he ever
done so wicked that his own bodily father should thirst after his
blood? The courts were all closed, and law or justice could no man
have in all Pomerania. What wonder then if club-law and the right
of the strongest should obtain in all places, as in the olden
time?"

_Hic_.--"That law and justice had ceased in the land was,
alas! but too true. However, he was not to answer for this, but
his princely Grace of Stettin. And because they had ceased in the
land, was he, as an upright magistrate, called upon to do his duty
yet more sternly, even though the criminal were his own born son.
For the Lord, the just Judge, the Almighty and jealous God, called
to him daily, from His holy Word--'Ye shall not respect persons in
judgment, nor be afraid of the face of man; for the judgment is
God's.' [Footnote: Deut. i. 17.] Woe to the land's Prince who had
not considered this, but compelled him, the miserable judge, to
steep his father's hands in the blood of his own son. But
righteous Abraham conquered through faith, because he was obedient
unto God, and bound his own innocent son upon the altar, and drew
forth his knife to slay him. Therefore he, too, would conquer
through faith, if he bound his _guilty_ son, and drew out the
sword against him, obedient to the words of the Lord. Therefore
let him prepare himself for death, and follow the priest into the
adjoining little chamber."

When Johann found that his father could in no wise be softened, he
began horribly to curse him and the hour of his birth, so that the
hair of all who heard him stood on end. And he called the devil to
help him, and adjured him to come and carry away this fierce and
unnatural father, who was more bloodthirsty than the wild beasts
of the forest--for who had ever heard that they murdered their own
blood?

"Come, devil," he screamed; "come, devil, and tear this
bloodthirsty monster of a father to pieces before my eyes, so will
I give myself to thee, body and soul! Hearest thou, Satan! Come
and destroy my father, and all who have here come out to murder
me, only leave me a little while longer in this life to do thy
service, and then I am thine for eternity!"

Now all eyes were turned in fear and horror to the door, but no
Satan entered, for the just God would not permit it, else,
methinks, he would have run to catch such a morsel for his supper.
However, the old man trembled, and seemed dwindling away into
nothing before the eyes of the bystanders as his son uttered the
curse. But he soon recovered, and laying his quivering hands upon
the head of the imprecator, broke forth into loud weeping, while
he prayed thus--

"O Thou just and Almighty God, who bringest the devices of the
wicked to nought, close Thine ears against this horrible curse of
my false son; remember Thine own word--'Into an evil soul wisdom
cannot enter, nor dwell in a body subject unto sin.' [Footnote:
Wisdom i. 4.] Thou alone canst make the sinful soul wise, and the
body of sin a temple of the Holy Ghost. O Lord Jesus Christ, hast
Thou no drop of living water, no crumb of strengthening manna for
this sinful and foolish soul? Hast Thou no glance of Thy holy eyes
for this denying Peter, that he may go forth and weep bitterly?
Hast Thou no word to strike the heart of this dying thief--of this
lost son, who, here bound for death, has cursed his own father,
and given himself up, body and soul, to the enemy of mankind? O
blessed Spirit, who comest and goest as the wind, enter the
heavenly temple, which is yet the work of Thy hands, and make it,
by Thy presence, a temple of the Most High! O Lord God, dwell
there but one moment, that so in his death-anguish he may feel the
sweetness of Thy presence, and the heaven-high comfort of Thy
promise! O Thou Holy Trinity, who hast kept my steps from falling,
through so much care and trouble, through so much shame and
disgrace, through so much watching and tears, and even now through
these terrible curses of my son, come and say Amen to this my last
blessing, which I, poor father, give him for his curse.

"Yes, Johann; the Lord bless thee and keep thee in the death hour.
The Lord shed his grace on thee, and give thee peace in thy last
agonies!

"Yes, Johann; the Lord bless thee and keep thee, and give thee
peace upon earth, and peace above the earth! Amen, amen, amen!"

When the trembling old man had so prayed, many wept aloud, and his
son trembled likewise, and followed the priest, silently and
humbly, into the neighbouring chamber.

Then the old man turned to Sidonia, and asked why she had left her
worthy cousin Marcus of Saatzig?

Upon which she told him, weeping, how his son had deceived her, in
order to get her once more into his power, in order that he might
rob her, and all she wanted now was to be let go her way in peace
to her farm-houses in Zachow.

But this the old man refused.

"No; this must not be yet. She was as evil-minded as his own son,
and needed an example to warn her from sin. Not a step should she
move till his head was off."

And, for this purpose, he bid two burghers seize hold of her by
the hands, and carry her to the scaffold when the execution was
going to take place. The grave must be nearly ready now, which he
bade them dig in a corner of the churchyard close by, and he had
ordered a car-load of sand likewise to be laid down there, for the
execution should take place in the churchyard.

Meanwhile the poor criminal has come out of the inner chamber with
M. Vitus, and going up to the bench where the poor father had sunk
down exhausted by emotion, he flings himself at his feet,
exclaiming, with the prodigal son in the parable--

"Father, I have sinned before heaven and in thy sight, and am no
more worthy to be called thy son."

Then he kissed his feet, and bedewed them with his tears.

Now the father thought this was all pretence, as formerly, so he
gave no answer. Upon which the poor sinner rose up, and reached
his hand to each one in the chamber, praying their forgiveness for
all the evil he had done, but which he was now going to expiate in
his blood. _Item,_ he advanced to Sidonia, sighing--

"Would not she too forgive him, for the love of God? Woe, alas!
She had more to forgive than any one; but would not she give him
her pardon, for some comfort on this last journey; and so would he
bear her remembrance before the throne of God?"

But Sidonia pushed away his hand.

"He should be ashamed of such old-womanish weakness. Did he not
see that his father was only trying to frighten him? For were he
in earnest, then were he more cruel even than her own unnatural
father, who, though he had only left her two cabins in Zachow, out
of all his great riches, yet had left her, at least, her poor
life."

Hereupon the poor sinner made answer--

"Not so; I know my father; he is not cruel; what he does is right;
therefore I willingly die, trusting in my blessed Saviour, whose
body will sanctify my body in the grave. For had I committed no
other sin, yet the curse I uttered just now is alone sufficient to
make me worthy of death, as it is written--'He that curseth father
or mother shall surely be put to death.'" [Footnote: Exodus xxi.
17.]

When the old man heard such-like words, he resolved to put his
son's sincerity to the test, for truly it seemed to him impossible
that the Almighty God should so suddenly make the crooked
straight, and the dead to live, and a child of heaven out of a
child of hell. So he spake--

"Thy repentance seemeth good unto me, my son, what sayest thou?
will it last, think you, if I now bestow thy life on thee?"

Hereat Sidonia laughed aloud, exclaiming--

"Said I not right? It was all a jest of thy dear father's." But
the poor sinner would not turn again to his wallowing in the mire.
He sat down upon a bench, covering his face with his hands, and
sobbed aloud. At last he answered--

"Alas! father, life is sweet and death is bitter; but since the
Holy Spirit hath entered into me with the body of our Lord, I say,
death is sweet and life is bitter. No; off with my head! 'I find a
law in my members warring against the law of my spirit, and making
me a prisoner under the law of sin;' [Footnote: Romans vii. 23.]
for if I see my neighbour rich and I am poor, then the demon of
covetousness rises in me, and my fingers itch to seize my share.
Or, if the foaming flask is before me, how can I resist to drain
it, for the spirit of gluttony is within me? Or, if I see a
maiden, the blood throbs in my veins, and the demon of lust has
taken possession of me. 'Oh, wretched man that I am, who will
deliver me from the body of this death?' You will, dearest father.
You will release me from this life, as you once gave it to me, for
it is now a life in death. Ah! show mercy! Come quickly, and
release me from the body of this death!"

When he ceased, the old man sprung up like a youth, and pressing
his lost son to his heart, sobbed forth like him of the Gospel--

"O friends, see! 'This my son was dead, but is alive again; he was
lost, and is found.' Yea, yea, see all that nothing is impossible
with God. O Thou Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, now I
have nothing more to ask, but that I too may soon be released from
the body of this death, and go forth to meet my new-found son
amidst the bright circle of the Holy Angels."

Then the son answered--

"Let me go now, father. See, the morning dawn shines already
through the window; so hath the loving mercy of my God come to me,
who sat in darkness and the shadow of death. Farewell, father; let
me go now. Away with this head in the clear early morning light,
so that my feet be fixed for evermore upon the path to peace."

And so speaking, he seized M. Vitus by the hand, who was sobbing
loudly, as well as most of the burghers, and the executioner with
his assistants bearing the coffin were going to follow, when the
old man, who had sunk down upon a bench, called back his son,
though he had already gone out at the door, and prayed the
executioner to let him stay one little while longer. For he
remembered that his son had a welt upon his neck, and he must see
whether it would interfere with the sword. Woe, woe! if he should
have to strike twice or thrice before the head fell!

So the executioner removed the neck-cloth from the poor sinner
(who, by the great mercy of God, was stronger than any of them),
and having felt the welt, said--

"No; the welt was close up to the head, but he would take the neck
in the middle, as indeed was his usual custom. His worship may
make his mind quite easy; he would stake his life on it that the
head would fall with the first blow. This was his one hundred and
fiftieth, and he never yet had failed."

Then the unhappy criminal tied his cravat on again, took M. Vitus
by the hand, and said--

"Farewell, my father; once more forgive me for all that I have
done!"

After which he went out quickly, without waiting to hear a word
more from his father, and the executioner followed him.

Meanwhile the afflicted father was sore troubled in mind. Three
times he repeated the text--"Ye shall not respect persons in
judgment, nor be afraid of the face of man, for the judgment is
God's." Then he called upon God to forgive the Prince who, by
taking away law and justice from the land, had obliged him to be
the judge and condemner of his son. How the Lord dealt with the
Prince we shall hear farther on. One while he sent mine host to
look over the hedge, and tell him if the head were off yet. Then
he would begin to pray that he might soon follow this poor son,
who had never given him one moment of joy but through his death,
and pass quickly after him through the vale of tears.

The son, however, is steadfast unto the end. For when they reached
the churchyard, he stood still a while gazing on the heap of sand.
Then he desired to be led to the spot where his grave was dug; and
near this same grave there being a tombstone, on which was figured
a man kneeling before a crucifix, he asked--

"Who was to share his grave bed here?"

Whereupon M. Vitus replied--

"He was a _rector scholæ_ out of Stargard, a very learned
man, who had retired from active life, and settled down here at
Bruchhausen, where he died not long since."

Whereat the poor sinner stood still a while, and then repeated
this beautiful distich, no doubt by the inspiration of the Holy
Ghost, to warn all learned sinners against that demon of pride and
vain-glory which too often takes possession of them.

"Quid juvat innumeros scire atque evolvere casus
Si facieuda fugis et fugienda facis?"

["What is the use of knowledge and all our infinite learning,
If we fly what is right and do what we ought to fly?"]

Then he looked calmly at his grave, and only prayed the
executioner not to put his head between his feet; after which he
returned to the sand-heap and exclaimed--

"Now to God!"

Upon which, M. Vitus blessed him yet again, and spake--

"O God, Father, who hast brought back this lost son, and filled
this foolish soul with wisdom; ah! Jesus, Saviour, who, in truth,
hast turned Thy holy eyes on him as on the denying Peter and on
the dying thief. O Holy Spirit, who hast not scorned to make this
poor vessel a temple for Thyself to dwell in, that in the
death-anguish this sinner may find the sweetness of Thy presence
and the heaven-high comfort of Thy promises! O Thou Holy
Trinity--to Thee--to Thee--to Thee--to Thy grace, Thy power, Thy
protection, we resign this dying mortal in his last agonies. Help
him, Lord God! _Kyrle Eleison!_ Give Thy holy angels command
to bear this poor soul into Abraham's bosom. O come, Lord Jesus;
help him, O Lord our God. _Kyrie Eleison!_ Amen."

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.