_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 a.s.sistants 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 a.s.sistants had placed the coffin on the ground, the old father advanced to the table, and spake thus--"Oh, thou fallen and G.o.dless 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 G.o.dless son, hast thou this n.o.ble 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 unchast.i.ty, 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 pa.s.sport 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d"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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d? 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 G.o.d?"
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 G.o.d should so suddenly make the crooked straight, and the dead to live, and a child of heaven out of a child of h.e.l.l. 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.