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Sidonia The Sorceress V2

W >> William Mienhold >> Sidonia The Sorceress V2




"No," Dorothea answered, "never would she strip her foot for him.
Die she would if die she must, but that she could never do! If he
could not bleed her through the stocking, he may go his ways."

_Summa_.--As neither prayers nor threatening were of any
avail, the doctor, in truth, had to bleed her through the
stocking; and scarcely had he finished, when Sidonia sent, saying.

"That she, too, was ill, and wished to be bled."

And there lay my hag alone, in bed, as the doctor entered. She was
right friendly.

"And was it indeed true, that absurd fool Dorothea did not choose
to be bled? Now he saw himself what a set of simpletons she had to
deal with in the convent. No wonder that they all blackened her
and belied her. She was sick from very disgust at such malice and
absurdity. Ah, she regretted now not having married when she had
the opportunity; it would have been better, and she had many
offers. But she always feared she was too poor. However, her
fortune was now excellent, for her sister had died without
children, and left her everything--a very large inheritance, as
she heard. But the dear doctor must taste her beer; she had tapped
some of the best, and there was a fresh can of it on the table."

But my doctor was too cunning not to see what she was driving at;
besides, he had heard of her beer-brewing, so he answered--

"He never drank beer; but what ailed her?"

"Ah, she didn't know herself, but she had a trembling in all her
limbs. Would he not take a glass of mead, or even water? Her old
servant should bring it to him."

"No. Let her just put out her hand for him to feel her pulse."

Instantly she stretched forth, not her hand alone, but her whole
naked, dry, and yellow arm from the bed. Whereupon the doctor
spoke--

"Eh? What should I bleed you for? The pulse is all right. In fact,
old people never should be bled without serious cause; for at
seventy or so, mind ye, every drop is worth a groschen."

"What!" exclaimed Sidonia, starting up; "what the devil, do ye
think I am seventy? Why, I am hardly fifty yet."

"Seventy or fifty," answered the doctor, "it is all much the same
with you women-folk."

"To the devil with you, rude churl!" screamed Sidonia. "If you
will not bleed me, I'll find another who will. Seventy indeed! So
rude a knave is not in the land!"

But my doctor goes away laughing; and as the ducal commissioners
had arrived to try Sidonia's case, with the convent chaplain, he
went down to meet them at Sheriff Sparling's, and these were the
commissioners:--

1. Christian Ludeck, state prosecutor; a brother of the priest's.

2. Johann Wedel of Cremzow.

3. Eggert Sparling, sheriff of Marienfliess.

4. Jobst Bork, governor of Saatzig.

This Jobst was son to that upright Marcus whose wife, Clara von
Dewitz, Sidonia had so miserably destroyed. For his good father's
sake, long since dead, their Graces of Stettin had continued him
in the government of Saatzig, for he walked in his father's steps,
only he was slow of speech; but he had a lovely daughter, yet more
praiseworthy than her grandmother, Clara of blessed memory, of
whom we shall hear more anon.

_Summa_.--The doctor found all the commissioners assembled in
the sheriff's parlour. _Item_, Anna Apenborg and the abbess
as witnesses, who deposed to all the circumstances which I have
heretofore related; also, the abbess set forth the prayer of the
sick Dorothea Stettin, that she might be restored to the
sub-prioret out of which the false Sidonia had wickedly talked
her, and now for thanks gave her insolent contempt and mocking
sneers.

Anna Apenborg further deposed, that, looking through the key-hole
of the refectory door one day, she spied the wicked witch boring a
hole in the wall; in this she placed a tun-dish, and immediately
after, a rich stream of cow's milk flowed down into a basin which
Sidonia held beneath, and that same day the best cow in the
convent stopped giving milk, and had never given one drop since.
And because the dairymaid, Trina Pantels, said openly this was
witchcraft, and accused Sidonia and the old hag Wolde of being
evil witches--for she was not a girl to hold her tongue, not
she--her knee swelled up to the size of a man's head, and day and
night she screamed for agony, until another old witch that visited
Sidonia, Lena of Uchtenhagen, for six pounds of wool, gave her a
plaster of honey and meal to put on the knee, and what should be
drawn out of the swelling, but quantities of pins and needles; and
how could this have been, but by Sidonia's witchcraft? [Footnote:
However improbable such accusations may seem, numbers of the like,
some even still more extraordinary, may be found in the witch
trials of that age, by any one who takes the trouble of referring
to them.]

Many witnesses could prove this fact; for Tewes Barth, Dinnies
Koch, and old Fritz were by, when the plaster was taken off.

Then Sheriff Sparling deposed, that having smothered his bees
lately, he sent a pot of pure honey to each of the nuns, as was
his custom; but Sidonia scolded, and said her pot was not large
enough, and abused him in a cruel manner about his stinginess in
not sending her more. So, some days after, as he was riding
quietly home to his house, across the convent court, suddenly the
whole ground before him became covered with the shadows of
bee-hives, and little shadows like bees went in and out, and
wheeled about just as real bees do. Whereupon, he looked in every
direction for the hives, for no shadows can be without a body, but
not a hive nor a bee was in the whole place round; but he heard a
peal of mocking laughter, and, on looking up, there was the wicked
witch looking out at him from a window, and she called out--

"Ho! sir sheriff, when you smother bees again, send me more honey.
A couple of pounds of the best--good weight!"

And this he did to have peace for the future.

Now the commissioners noted all this down diligently; but the
state prosecutor shook his head, and asked the abbess--

"Wherefore she had not long ago brought this vile witch before the
princely court?"

To which she answered, sighing--.

"What would that help? She had already tasted the vengeance of the
wicked sorceress, and feared to taste it again. Well, night and
day had she cried to God to free the convent from this she-devil,
and often resolved to unfold the whole Satan's work to his
Highness, though her own life would be perilled surely by so
doing. But she was ready, as a faithful mother of the convent, to
lay it down for her children, if, indeed, that could save them.
But how would her death help these poor young virgins? For
assuredly the moment Sidonia had brought her to a cruel end, she
would make herself abbess by force, and this was such a dread to
the sorrowing virgins, that they themselves entreated her to keep
silence and be patient, waiting for the mercy of God to help them.
For truly the power of this accursed sorceress was as great as her
wickedness."

Here answered Dr Schwalenberg--

"This power can soon be broken; he knew many receipts out of
Albertus Magnus, Raimundus Lallus, Theophrastus, Paracelsus, &c.,
against sorcery and evil witches."

This was a glad hearing to the state prosecutor, and he answered
with a joyful mien and voice--

"Marry, doctor, if you know how to get hold of this evil hag, do
it at once; we shall then bind her arms, so that she can make no
signs to hurt us, and clap a pitch-plaster on her mouth, to stop
the said mouth from calling the devil to her help; after which, I
can easily bring her with me to Stettin, and answer for all
proceedings to his Grace. Probably she is a-bed still; go back,
and pretend that, upon reflection, you think it will be better to
bleed her. Then, when you have hold of her arm, call in the
fellows, whom the sheriff will, I am sure, allow to accompany
you."

"Yes, yes," cried the sheriff, "take twenty of my men with you, my
good doctor, if you will."

"Well, then," resumed the state prosecutor, "let them rush in,
bind the dragon, clap the pitch-plaster on her mouth, and she is
ours in spite of all the devils."

"Right, all right," cried the doctor; "never fear but I'll pay her
for her matrimonial designs upon me."

And he began to prepare the plaster with some pitch he got from a
cobbler, when suddenly the state prosecutor screamed out--

"Merciful God! see there! Look at the shadow of a toad creeping
over my paper, whereon I move my hand!"

He springs up--wipes, wipes, wipes, but in vain; the unclean
shadow is there still, and crawls over the paper, though never a
toad is to be seen.

What a commotion of horror this Satan's work caused amongst the
bystanders, can be easily imagined. All stood up and looked at the
toad-shadow, when the abbess screamed out, "Merciful God! look
there! look there! The whole floor is covered with toad-shadows!"
Hereupon all the women-folk ran screaming from the room, but
screamed yet louder when they reached the door, and met there
Sidonia and her cat face to face. Round they all wheeled again,
rushed to the back-door, out into the yard, over the pond, and
into the oak-wood, without daring once to look behind them. But
the men remained, for the doctor said bravely, "Wait now, good
friends, patience, she can do us no harm;" and he murmured some
words.

But just as they all made the sign of the cross, and silently put
up a prayer to God, and gathered up their legs on the benches, so
that the unclean shadows might not crawl upon their boots, the
horrible hag appeared at the window, and her cat in his little red
hose clambered up on the sill, mewing and crying (and I think
myself that this cat was her spirit Chim, whom she had sent first
to the sheriff's house to hear what was going on; for how could
she have known it?).

_Summa_.--She laid one hand upon the window, the better to
look in, and clenching the other, shook it at them, crying out,
"Wait, ye accursed peasant boors, I, too, will judge ye for your
sins!" But seeing her cousin, Jobst Bork, present, she screamed
yet louder--"Eh! thou thick ploughman, hath the devil brought thee
here too? Art thou not ashamed to accuse thy own kinswoman? Wait,
I will give thee something to make thee remember our
relationship!"

And as she began to murmur some words, and spat out before them
all, the state prosecutor jumped up and rushed out after the
women, and Sheriff Sparling rushed out after him, and they never
stopped or stayed till both reached the oak-wood.

But Jobst said calmly, "Cousin, be reasonable; it is my duty!" My
doctor, however, wanted to pay her off for the marriage business,
so he seized a whip with which Sheriff Sparling had been thrashing
a boor, and hurrying out, cried, "I will make her reasonable! Thou
old hag of hell! here is the fit marriage for thee!" and so whack,
whack upon her thin, withered shoulders.

Truly the witch cried out now in earnest, but began to spit at the
same time, so that the doctor had given but four strokes when the
whip fell from his hand, and he tottered hither and thither,
crying, "O Lord! O Lord!" At this the sorceress laughed
scornfully, and mocking his movements, cried out likewise, "O
Lord! O Lord!" and when the poor doctor fell down flat upon the
earth like the old porter and others, she began to dance, chanting
her infernal psalm:--

"Also kleien und also kratzen,
Meine Hunde und meine Katzen"

And the cat in his little red hose danced beside her. After which,
she returned laughing to the convent to pray him to death, while
the poor fellow lay groaning and gasping upon the pavement. None
were there to help him, for the state prosecutor and Wedeln had
made off to Stargard as quick as they could go, and Sheriff
Sparling was still hiding in the bush. However, Jobst and the old
dairy-woman helped him up as best he could, and asked what ailed
him? to which he groaned in answer, "There seemed to be some one
sitting inside his breast, and breaking the _cartilago
ensiformis_ horribly asunder. Ah, God! ah, God! he was weak
indeed! his hour was come; let them lay him in a coach, and carry
him directly to Stargard."

This was done as soon as the sheriff could be found; but my
doctor's screams never ceased for three days, after which he gave
up the ghost, and the corpse had the same appearance as that of
the convent porter, which I have already noticed. Thus it happened
with the wise!

But Johann Wedeln fared little better, as we shall see; for after
the doctor's strange death, he said openly everywhere, he would
never rest till the accursed witch was burned. Anna Apenborg
repeated this in the convent, and to Sidonia's maid, upon which
the witch sent for Anna, and asked was the report true? And when
the other did not deny it, she exclaimed, "Now for this shall the
knave be contracted all his life long, and twist his mouth
_thus_." Whereupon she mimicked how his shoulders would be
drawn up to his ears, and twisted her mouth in horrible
contortions, so that it was a shame and sin to look at her. And
truly this misfortune fell upon him from that hour. And afterwards
when he heard of her wickedness, from Anna Apenborg and others,
and brought her to an account for her sorcery in Stettin, she made
him bite the dust and lie in his coffin ere long, out of malice
and terrible revenge, as we shall hear further on.




CHAPTER VII.

_How the assembled Pomeranian princes hold a council over
Sidonia_ [Footnote: Note of Bogislaff XIV.--I was not present
at this council, for I was holding my espousals at the time. (The
Duke married the Princess Elizabeth von Schleswig Holstein in
1615, but left no heirs.)] _and at length cite her to appear at
the ducal court._


When the state prosecutor, Christian Ludeck, reached Stettin with
his appalling news, the Duke was seriously troubled in mind as to
how he could best save the holy sisterhood, and indeed the whole
land, from the terrible Satanic power and murderous malice of this
cruel sorceress. So he summoned all the princes of his family to a
convocation on a certain day, at Old Stettin; but when they
arrived, his Grace was absent, for he had gone to Coblentz on some
business, and here was the matter.

His steward, Jeremias Schroter, was an unworthy agent, as his
Grace heard; and when the time came for the poor people to get
their oats or corn, he sent round and made them all give their
receipts first, saying "They should have their corn after;" but
when they went to bring it home, he beat them, and asked what they
meant--he had their receipts: they were cheats, and should get no
more corn from him.

Now, a poor parson's widow came up all the way to Stettin, to
complain of the steward to his Highness, who was shocked at such
knavery, and determined to go down himself to Coblentz and make
inquiries; for the steward swore that the people were liars, and
had defamed him.

The Duke therefore bid the chancellor, Martin Chemnitz, entertain
his princely brothers until his return, which would not be before
evening, and to show them his painting and sculpture galleries,
and whatever else in the castle might please them. And now to show
the good heart of his Grace, I must mention that, seeing the poor
widow was tired with her six miles' walk, he bid her get up beside
the coachman on the box of his carriage, and he would drive her
himself to her own place.

Meanwhile the young princes arrived, and the court marshal, the
chancellor, the aforesaid state prosecutor, and other high
officials, received them on behalf of his Highness. Doctor Cramer,
_vice-superintendens_, my esteemed father-in-law, was also
present--_item_, Doctor Constantius Oesler.

They were first led into the picture-gallery by the chancellor
(although Duke George cared little about such matters), where
there was a costly collection of paintings by Perugino, Raphael,
Titian, Bellini, &c.--_item_, statues, vases, coins, and
medals, all of which his Grace had brought lately from Italy. Here
also there was a large book, covered with crimson velvet, lying
open, in which his Grace the Duke had written down many extracts
from the sermons of Doctor Cramer and Mag. Reutzio, with marginal
Latin notes of his own; for the Duke had a table in his oratory or
closet in St. Mary's Church, that he might write down what pleased
him, and a Greek and Latin Bible laid thereon. This book was,
therefore, a right pleasing sight to Doctor Cramer, who stood and
read his own sermons over again with great relish, while the
others examined the paintings.

When they grew weary, the chancellor conducted them to the
library, which contained ten thousand books. But Duke Ulrich said,
"Marry, dear brothers, what the devil is there to see here? Let us
rather go down to the stables, and examine my new Danish horses;
then come up to my quarters (for his Grace lived with his brother,
Duke Philip), and have a good Pomeranian carouse to pass away the
time; for as to these fooleries, which have cost our good brother
such a mint of money, I would not give a dollar for them all."

So they ran down the steps leading to the stables; but first he
brought them into the hunting-hall, belonging to his quarter,
which was decorated, and covered all along the walls with
hunting-horns, rifles, cross-bows, and hunting-knives and pouches,
with the horns of all sorts of animals killed in the chase.
Whereupon Duke George said, "He was content to remain here--the
horses he could see on the morrow."

So he sat down by the wine-flask, which lay there already upon the
table; and while Duke Ulrich was trying to persuade him to come to
the stables, saying he could have the wine-flask after, the door
opened, and his Highness Duke Philip unexpectedly entered the
apartment.

He embraced all his dear brothers, and then, turning to Duke
Francis, the bishop, said, "Tell me, dear Fra (so he always called
him, for his Grace spoke Italian and Latin like German), is there
any hope of a christening at thy castle? Oh, say yes, and I will
give thee a duchy for my godchild."

But Bishop Francis answered mournfully, "No!" Then Duke Philip
turned to another--"How say you, brother--mayhap there is hope of
an heir to Wolgast?"

"None, alas!" was the answer.

"No, no!" exclaimed the Duke, "and there is no hope for me
either--none!" Then he walked up and down the hall in great
agitation, at last stopped, and lifting up his hands to heaven,
cried, "Merciful God, a child, a child! Is my whole ancient race
to perish? Wilt Thou slay us, as Thou didst the first-born of
Egypt? Oh! a child, a child!"

Here Doctor Cramerus advanced humbly, and said, "Your Highness
should have faith. Remember what St. Paul says (Rom. iv.)
concerning the faith of Abraham and Sarah; and Abraham was a
hundred years old, whereas your Highness is scarce forty,
therefore why despair of the mercy of God? Besides, many of his
brothers were still unwed."

Hereat his Grace stood silent, and looked round at his dear
brothers; but Duke George exclaimed, "You need not look at me,
dear brother, for I mean never to marry" (which, indeed, was the
truth, for he died some short time after at Buckow, whether
through Sidonia's witchcraft I know not, at the age of thirty-five
years, and unmarried. One thing, however, is certain, that his
death was as strange as the others; for in seven days he was well,
sick, dead, buried). [Footnote: There was formerly a Cistercian
monastery at Buckow, in the chapel of which still hangs a picture
of this Prince. Like most of his race, the face is in the highest
degree unmeaning; indeed, nothing more can be said of him than
that he was born and died.]

_Summa_.--His Highness first excused himself to his
illustrious brothers for his absence, and related the cause, how
his knave of a steward had been oppressing the poor, whereupon he
determined to go himself and avenge their injuries; for a prince
should be the father of his people, and it was a blessed work, the
Scripture said, to visit the fatherless and widows in their
affliction (James i. 27). So he hid himself in a little closet,
where he could hear everything in the widow's house, and then bid
her send for the steward; and when he came, the widow asked for
her corn, as usual, but he said, "She must give him the receipt
first, and then she might have it;" upon which she gave him the
receipt, and he went away. Then the Duke bid the widow send a
peasant and his cart for the corn; however, the old answer came
back--"She was a cheat--what did she mean? He had her receipt in
his hand."

Upon this the Duke drove himself to the knave, and made him, in
his presence, pay down all the arrears of corn to the widow; then
he beat him black and blue, for a little parting remembrance, and
dismissed him ignominiously from his service. After this he had
thoughts of driving round to visit Prechln of Buslar, for the
rumour was afloat that Sidonia had bewitched his little son
Bartel, scarcely yet a year old, and made him grow a beard on his
chin like an old carl's, that reached down to his little stomach.
But as his dear brothers were waiting for him, his Grace had given
up this journey, particularly as he wished to hear their opinions
without delay as to what could be done to free the land from this
evil sorceress Sidonia. Hereupon he bade Christian Ludeck, the
state prosecutor, to read the proceedings at Marienfliess from his
notes.

As he proceeded to read the Acta, the listeners crossed and
blessed themselves; at last Duke Francis, the bishop, spake--"Did
I not say well, when years ago, in Oderkrug, I prayed our father
of blessed memory to burn this vile limb of Satan for a terrible
example? But my good brother Philip sided against me with my
father, and he was deemed the wiser. Who is the wiser now, I
wonder--eh?"

Then Duke Philip asked Dr. Cramer, "What he thought of the matter
as _theologus_?" who answered, "Your Grace must spare me; I
will accuse no one, not even Sidonia, for though such things
appear verily to be done by the help of the devil, yet had they no
proof, seeing that no _medicus_ had hitherto dissected any
one of the _cadavera_ which it was avowed Sidonia had
bewitched to death."

Hereupon Dr. Constantius spake that he had already, by legal
permission, dissected the body of his colleague, Dr. Schwalenberg,
and delivered over the _visum repertum_ to his Grace's
chancellor. Then he described the appearances, which were truly
singular, particularly that of the _cartilago ensiformis_.
_Item_, concerning the _valvulae tricuspidales_, through
which the blood falls into the heart. They were so powerfully
contracted that the blood was forced to take another course, for
which reason, probably, the corpse seemed so dreadfully
discoloured. _Item_, the _vena pulmonalis_ had burst,
from which cause the doctor had spit blood to the last. And
lastly, the _glandulae sublinguales_ were so swollen that the
tongue could not remain in the mouth. Such a death was not
natural; that he averred. But whether Sidonia's sorcery had caused
it, or it were sent as a peculiar punishment by God, that he would
not say; he agreed with the excellent Dr. Cramer, and thought it
better to accuse no one.

"Now by the cross!" cried Duke Francis, "what else is it but
devil's work? But the lords were very lukewarm, and resolved not
to peril themselves; _that_ he saw. However, if his brother,
Duke Philip, permitted the whole princely race to be thus
bewitched to death, he would have to answer for it at the day of
judgment. He prayed him, therefore, for the love of God, to send
for the hag instantly, and drag her to the scaffold."

Hereat Duke Philip sank his head upon his arm, and was silent a
long space. But the state prosecutor gave answer--"Marry! will
your Episcopal Highness then take the trouble to tell us, who is
to seize the hag? I will do it not, and who else will? for,
methinks, whoever touches her must needs be sore tired of life."

"If no one else will," returned the bishop, "my Camyn executioner,
Master Radeck, will surely do it, for he never feared a witch;
besides, he knows all their _arcana_."

Meanwhile, as Duke Philip still sat in deep thought, and played
with a quill, the door opened, and a lacquey entered with a
message from the noble Prechln of Buslar, requesting an
_audienza_ of his Grace. He had an infant in his arms which a
wicked witch had prayed to death, and the child had a beard on it
like an old man, so that all in the castle were terrified at the
sight.

His Grace Duke Philip instantly started up. "Merciful God! is it
true?" waved his hand to the lacquey, who withdrew, and then
walked up and down, exclaiming still, "Merciful God! what can be
done?"

"Torture! burn! kill!" cried Duke Francis, the bishop "and
to-morrow, if it be possible. I shall send this night for my
executioner! trust to him. He will soon screw the soul out of the
vile hag; take my word for it."

"Ay! torture! burn! kill!" cried also the state prosecutor, "and
the sooner the better, gracious master. For God's sake, no mercy
more!"

Here the door opened, and Prechln of Buslar entered, pale as the
infant corpse that lay upon his arms. This corpse was dressed in
white with black ribbons, and a wreath of rosemary encircled the
little head; but, what was strange and horrible, a long black
beard depended from the infant's chin, which the wind, as the door
opened, blew backward and forward in the sorrowing father's face.
After him came his wife, wringing her hands wildly from grief, and
an old serving-maid.

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