Hereupon my child besought her judges to go with her to Coserow, where she still had much amber in her coffer which she had found here, and that if it were the gift of the devil it would all be changed, since it was well known that all the presents the devil makes to witches straightway turn to mud and ashes.
But, G.o.d be merciful to us, G.o.d be merciful to us! when we returned to Coserow, amid the wonderment of all the village, and my daughter went to her coffer, the things therein were all tossed about, and the amber gone. Hereupon she shrieked so loud that it would have softened a stone, and cried out, "The wicked constable hath done this! when he fetched the salve out of my coffer, he stole the amber from me, unhappy maid." But the constable, who stood by, would have torn her hair, and cried out, "Thou witch, thou d.a.m.ned witch, is it not enough that thou hast belied my lord, but thou must now belie me too?" But _Dom. Consul_ forbade him, so that he did not dare lay hands upon her. _Item_, all the money was gone which she had h.o.a.rded up from the amber she had privately sold, and which she thought already came to about ten florins.
But the gown which she had worn at the arrival of the most ill.u.s.trious king Gustavus Adolphus, as well as the golden chain with his effigy which he had given her, I had locked up as though it were a relic in the chest in the vestry, among the altar and pulpit cloths, and there we found them still; and when I excused myself therefor, saying that I had thought to have saved them up for her there against her bridal day, she gazed with fixed and glazed eyes into the box, and cried out, "Yes, against the day when I shall be burnt! O Jesu, Jesu, Jesu!" Hereat _Dom.
Consul_ shuddered and said, "See how thou still dost smite thyself with thine own words. For the sake of G.o.d and thy salvation, confess, for if thou knowest thyself to be innocent, how, then, canst thou think that thou wilt be burnt?" But she still looked him fixedly in the face, and cried aloud in Latin, "_Innocentia, quid est innocentia! Ubi libido dominatur, innocentia leve praesidium est._" [Footnote: These words are from Cicero, if I do not mistake.]
Hereupon _Dom. Consul_ again shuddered, so that his beard wagged, and said, "What, dost thou indeed know Latin? Where didst thou learn the Latin?" And when I answered this question as well as I was able for sobbing, he shook his head, and said, "I never in my life heard of a woman that knew Latin." Upon this he knelt down before her coffer, and turned over everything therein, drew it away from the wall, and when he found nothing he bade us show him her bed, and did the same with that. This, at length, vexed the sheriff, who asked him whither they should not drive back again, seeing that night was coming on? But he answered, "Nay, I must first have the written paction which Satan has given her;"
and he went on with his search until it was almost dark.
[Footnote: At this time it was believed that as a man bound himself to the devil by writing, so did the devil in like manner to the man.] But they found nothing at all, although _Dom.
Consul_, together with the constable, pa.s.sed over no hole or corner, even in the kitchen and cellar. Hereupon he got up again into the coach, muttering to himself, and bade my daughter sit so that she should not look upon him.
And now we once more had the same _spectaculum_ with the accursed old witch Lizzie Kolken, seeing that she again sat at her door as we drove by, and began to sing at the top of her voice, "We praise thee, O Lord." But she screeched like a stuck pig, so that _Dom. Consul_ was amazed thereat, and when he had heard who she was, he asked the sheriff whether he would not that she should be seized by the constable and be tied behind the coach, to run after it, as we had no room for her elsewhere; for that he had often been told that all old women who had red squinting eyes and sharp voices were witches, not to mention the suspicious things which _Rea_ had declared against her. But he answered that he could not do this, seeing that old Lizzie was a woman in good repute, and fearing G.o.d, as _Dom. Consul_ might learn for himself; but that, nevertheless, he had had her summoned for the morrow, together with the other witnesses.
Yea, in truth, an excellently devout and worthy woman!--for scarcely were we out of the village, when so fearful a storm of thunder, lightning, wind, and hail burst over our heads, that the corn all around us was beaten down as with a flail, and the horses before the coach were quite maddened; however, it did not last long. But my poor child had to bear all the blame again, [Footnote: Such sudden storms were attributed to witches.]
inasmuch as _Dom. Consul_ thought that it was not old Lizzie, which, nevertheless, was as clear as the sun at noon-day, but my poor daughter who brewed the storm;--for, beloved reader, what could it have profited her, even if she had known the black art?
This, however, did not strike _Dom. Consul_, and Satan, by the permission of the all-righteous G.o.d, was presently to use us still worse; for just as we got to the Master"s Dam, [Footnote: It is also called to the present day, and is distant a mile from Coserow.] he came flying over us in the shape of a stork, and dropped a frog so exactly over us that it fell into my daughter her lap: she gave a shrill scream, but I whispered her to sit still, and that I would secretly throw the frog away by one leg.
But the constable had seen it, and cried out, "Hey, sirs! hey, look at the cursed witch! what has the devil just thrown into her lap?" Whereupon the sheriff and _Dom. Consul_ looked round and saw the frog, which crawled in her lap, and the constable, after he had blown upon it three times, took it up and showed it to their lordships. Hereat _Dom. Consul_ began to spew, and when he had done, he ordered the coachman to stop, got down from the coach, and said we might drive home, that he felt qualmish, and would go a-foot and see if he got better. But first he privately whispered to the constable, which, howbeit, we heard right well, that when he got home he should lay my poor child in chains, but not so as to hurt her much; to which neither she nor I could answer save by tears and sobs. But the sheriff had heard it too, and when his worship was out of sight he began to stroke my child her cheeks from behind her back, telling her to be easy, as he also had a word to say in the matter, and that the constable should not lay her in chains. But that she must leave off being so hard to him as she had been hitherto, and come and sit on the seat beside him, that he might privately give her some good advice as to what was to be done. To this she answered, with many tears, that she wished to sit only by her father, as she knew not how much longer she might sit by him at all; and she begged for nothing more save that his lordship would leave her in peace. But this he would not do, but pinched her back and sides with his knees; and as she bore with this, seeing that there was no help for it, he waxed bolder, taking it for a good sign. Meanwhile _Dom. Consul_ called out close behind us (for being frightened he ran just after the coach), "Constable, constable, come here quick; here lies a hedgehog in the midst of the road!"
whereupon the constable jumped down from the coach.
This made the sheriff still bolder; and at last my child rose up and said, "Father, let us also go a-foot; I can no longer guard myself from him here behind!" But he pulled her down again by her clothes, and cried out angrily, "Wait, thou wicked witch, I will help thee to go a-foot if thou art so wilful; thou shalt be chained to the block this very night." Whereupon she answered, "Do you do that which you cannot help doing: the righteous G.o.d, it is to be hoped, will one day do unto you what He cannot help doing."
Meanwhile we had reached the castle, and scarcely were we got out of the coach, when _Dom. Consul_, who had run till he was all of a sweat, came up, together with the constable, and straightway gave over my child into his charge, so that I had scarce time to bid her farewell. I was left standing on the floor below, wringing my hands in the dark, and hearkened whither they were leading her, inasmuch as I had not the heart to follow; when _Dom.
Consul_, who had stepped into a room with the sheriff, looked out at the door again, and called after the constable to bring _Rea_ once more before them. And when he had done so, and I went into the room with them, _Dom. Consul_ held a letter in his hand, and, after spitting thrice, he began thus, "Wilt thou still deny, thou stubborn witch? Hear what the old knight, Hans von Nienkerken, writes to the court!" Whereupon he read out to us, that his son was so disturbed by the tale the accursed witch had told of him, that he had fallen sick from that very hour, and that he, the father, was not much better. That his son, Rudiger, had indeed at times, when he went that way, been to see Pastor Schweidler, whom he had first known upon a journey; but that he swore that he wished he might turn black if he had ever used any folly or jesting with the cursed devil"s wh.o.r.e his daughter; much less ever been with her by night on the Streckelberg, or embraced her there.
At this dreadful news we both (I mean my child and I) fell down in a swound together, seeing that we had rested our last hopes on the young lord; and I know not what further happened. For when I came to myself, my host, Conrad Seep, was standing over me, holding a funnel between my teeth, through which he ladled some warm beer down my throat, and I never felt more wretched in all my life; insomuch that Master Seep had to undress me like a little child, and to help me into bed.
CHAPTER XX.
_Of the malice of the Governor and of old Lizzie--item, of the examination of witnesses._
The next morning my hairs, which till _datum_ had been mingled with grey, were white as snow, albeit the Lord otherwise blessed me wondrously. For near daybreak a nightingale flew into the elder-bush beneath my window, and sang so sweetly that straightway I thought it must be a good angel. For after I had hearkened awhile to it, I was all at once able again to pray, which since last Sunday I could not do; and the spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ began to speak within me, "Abba, Father;" [Footnote: Gal. iv. 6.] and straightway I was of good cheer, trusting that G.o.d would once more be gracious unto me His wretched child; and when I had given Him thanks for such great mercy, I fell into a refreshing slumber, and slept so long that the blessed sun stood high in the heavens when I awoke.
And seeing that my heart was still of good cheer, I sat up in my bed, and sang with a loud voice, "Be not dismayed, thou little flock:" whereupon Master Seep came into the room, thinking I had called him. But he stood reverently waiting till I had done; and after marvelling at my snow-white hair, he told me it was already seven; _item_, that half my congregation, among others, my ploughman, Claus Neels, were already a.s.sembled in his house to bear witness that day. When I heard this, I bade mine host forthwith send Claus to the castle, to ask when the court would open, and he brought word back that no one knew, seeing that _Dom. Consul_ was already gone that morning to Mellenthin to see old Nienkerken, and was not yet come back. This message gave me good courage, and I asked the fellow whether he also had come to bear witness against my poor child? To which he answered, "Nay, I know naught save good of her, and I would give the fellows their due, only----"
These words surprised me, and I vehemently urged him to open his heart to me. But he began to weep, and at last said that he knew nothing. Alas! he knew but too much, and could then have saved my poor child if he had willed. But from fear of the torture he held his peace, as he since owned; and I will here relate what had befallen him that very morning.
He had set out betimes that morning, so as to be alone with his sweetheart, who was to go along with him (she is Steffen of Zempin his daughter, not farmer Steffen, but the lame gouty Steffen), and had got to Pudgla about five, where he found no one in the ale-house save old Lizzie Kolken, who straightway hobbled up to the castle; and when his sweetheart was gone home again, time hung heavy on his hands, and he climbed over the wall into the castle garden, where he threw himself on his face behind a hedge to sleep. But before long the sheriff came with old Lizzie, and after they had looked all round and seen no one, they went into an arbour close by him, and conversed as follows:--
_Ille_.--Now that they were alone together, what did she want of him?
_Illa_.--She came to get the money for the witchcraft she had contrived in the village.
_Ille_.--Of what use had all this witchcraft been to him? My child, so far from being frightened, defied him more and more; and he doubted whether he should ever have his will of her.
_Illa_.--He should only have patience; when she was laid upon the rack she would soon learn to be fond.
_Ille_.--That might be, but till then she (Lizzie) should get no money.
_Illa_.--What! Must she then do his cattle a mischief?
_Ille_.--Yes, if she felt chilly, and wanted a burning f.a.ggot to warm her _podex_, she had better. Moreover, he thought that she had bewitched him, seeing that his desire for the parson"s daughter was such as he had never felt before.
_Illa_ (laughing).--He had said the same thing some thirty years ago, when he first came after her.
_Ille_.--Ugh! thou old baggage, don"t remind me of such things, but see to it that you get three witnesses, as I told you before, or else methinks they will rack your old joints for you after all.
_Illa_.--She had the three witnesses ready, and would leave the rest to him. But that if she were racked she would reveal all she knew.
_Ille_.--She should hold her ugly tongue, and go to the devil.
_Illa_.--So she would, but first she must have her money.
_Ille_.--She should have no money till he had had his will of my daughter.
_Illa_.--He might at least pay her for her little pig which she herself had bewitched to death, in order that she might not get into evil repute.
_Ille_.--She might choose one when his pigs were driven by, and say she had paid for it. Hereupon, said my Claus, the pigs were driven by, and one ran into the garden, the door being open, and as the swineherd followed it, they parted; but the witch muttered to herself, "Now help, devil, help, that I may----" but he heard no further.
The cowardly fellow, however, hid all this from me, as I have said above, and only said, with tears, that he knew nothing. I believed him, and sat down at the window to see when _Dom. Consul_ should return; and when I saw him I rose and went to the castle, where the constable, who was already there with my child, met me before the judgment-chamber. Alas! she looked more joyful than I had seen her for a long time, and smiled at me with her sweet little mouth: but when she saw my snow-white hair, she gave a cry, which made _Dom. Consul_ throw open the door of the judgment-chamber, and say, "Ha, ha! thou knowest well what news I have brought thee; come in, thou stubborn devil"s brat!" Whereupon we stepped into the chamber to him, and he lift up his voice and spake to me, after he had sat down with the sheriff, who was by.
He said that yester-even, after he had caused me to be carried like one dead to Master Seep his ale-house, and that my stubborn child had been brought to life again, he had once more adjured her, to the utmost of his power, no longer to lie before the face of the living G.o.d, but to confess the truth; whereupon she had borne herself very unruly, and had wrung her hands and wept and sobbed, and at last answered that the young _n.o.bilis_ never could have said such things, but that his father must have written them, who hated her, as she had plainly seen when the Swedish king was at Coserow. That he, _Dom. Consul_, had indeed doubted the truth of this at the time, but as a just judge had gone that morning right early with the _scriba_ to Mellenthin, to question the young lord himself.
That I might now see myself what horrible malice was in my daughter. For that the old knight had led him to his son"s bedside, who still lay sick from vexation, and that he had confirmed all his father had written, and had cursed the scandalous she-devil (as he called my daughter) for seeking to rob him of his knightly honour. "What sayest thou now?" he continued; "wilt thou still deny thy great wickedness? See here the _protocollum_ which the young lord hath signed _manu propria!_" But the wretched maid had meanwhile fallen on the ground again, and the constable had no sooner seen this than he ran into the kitchen, and came back with a burning brimstone match, which he was about to hold under her nose.
But I hindered him, and sprinkled her face with water, so that she opened her eyes, and raised herself up by a table. She then stood awhile, without saying a word or regarding my sorrow. At last she smiled sadly, and spake thus: That she clearly saw how true was that spoken by the Holy Ghost, "Cursed be the man that trusteth in man;" [Footnote: Jer. xvii. 5.] and that the faithlessness of the young lord had surely broken her poor heart if the all-merciful G.o.d had not graciously prevented him, and sent her a dream that night, which she would tell, not hoping to persuade the judges, but to raise up the white head of her poor father.
"After I had sat and watched all the night," quoth she, "towards morning I heard a nightingale sing in the castle garden so sweetly that my eyes closed, and I slept. Then methought I was a lamb, grazing quietly in my meadow at Coserow. Suddenly the sheriff jumped over the hedge, and turned into a wolf, who seized me in his jaws, and ran with me towards the Streckelberg, where he had his lair. I, poor little lamb, trembled and bleated in vain, and saw death before my eyes, when he laid me down before his lair, where lay the she-wolf and her young. But behold a hand, like the hand of a man, straightway came out of the bushes, and touched the wolves, each one with one finger, and crushed them so that naught was left of them save a grey powder. Hereupon the hand took me up, and carried me back to my meadow."
Only think, beloved reader, how I felt when I heard all this, and about the dear nightingale too, which no one can doubt to have been the servant of G.o.d. I clasped my child with many tears, and told her what had happened to me, and we both won such courage and confidence as we had never yet felt, to the wonderment of _Dom.
Consul_, as it seemed; but the sheriff turned as pale as a sheet when she stepped towards their worships and said, "And now do with me as you will, the lamb fears not, for she is in the hands of the Good Shepherd!" Meanwhile _Dom. Camerarius_ came in with the _scriba_, but was terrified as he chanced to touch my daughter"s ap.r.o.n with the skirts of his coat; and stood and sc.r.a.ped at his coat as a woman sc.r.a.pes a fish. At last, after he had spat out thrice, he asked the court whether it would not begin to examine witnesses, seeing that all the people had been waiting some time both in the castle and at the ale-house.
Hereunto they agreed, and the constable was ordered to guard my child in his room, until it should please the court to summon her.
I therefore went with her, but we had to endure much from the impudent rogue, seeing he was not ashamed to lay his arm round my child her shoulders, and to ask for a kiss _in mea presentia_. But, before I could get out a word, she tore herself from him, and said, "Ah, thou wicked knave, must I complain of thee to the court; hast thou forgotten what thou hast already done to me?" To which he answered, laughing, "See, see!
how coy;" and still sought to persuade her to be more willing, and not to forget her own interest; for that he meant as well by her as his master; she might believe it or not; with many other scandalous words besides which I have forgot; for I took my child upon my knees and laid my head on her neck, and we sat and wept.
CHAPTER XXI.
_De confrontatione testium_.
When we were summoned before the court again, the whole court was full of people, and some shuddered when they saw us, but others wept; my child told the same tale as before. But when our old Ilse was called, who sat on a bench behind, so that we had not seen her, the strength wherewith the Lord had gifted her was again at an end, and she repeated the words of our Saviour, "He that eateth bread with Me hath lift up his heel against Me:" and she held fast by my chair. Old Ilse, too, could not walk straight for very grief, nor could she speak for tears, but she twisted and wound herself about before the court, like a woman in travail. But when _Dom. Consul_ threatened that the constable should presently help her to her words, she testified that my child had very often got up in the night, and called aloud upon the foul fiend.