I had lived uninterruptedly for a twelvemonth at Augsburg, save for one

ride to Munich, a city well worth seeing. The Diet being about to

dissolve, I bought a horse, an acquisition which that big dreamer of a

Normann deferred from day to day. Of course, the inevitable happened.

The moment the emperor had announced his forthcoming departure

everybody wanted horses, and he who had ordered himself a handsome

dress, sold it at half-price in order to get a roadster. Normann, who,

in spite of my warnings, had waited till the eleventh hour, unable to

find a suitable mount, took mine, which had been well fed and looked

after in anticipation of the long journey. I by no means relished this

unceremonious proceeding, but I could not help myself, and was

compelled to put up with a seat on a big fourgon, in which I placed the

golden cups intended for Granvelle. At Ulm, Martin Weyer decided that

Normann should give me back my horse when we reached Spires, and that

he should go the rest of the way by the Rhine. When we got to Spires,

Normann was not to be found there, and we finally learnt that he had

gone to the baths of Zell with the chimerical hope of getting rid of

his pimples which disfigured him.

I confided the two pieces of goldsmith's work to Dr. Louis Zigler, the

procurator to our princes, then went by coach to Oppenheim, and by

water to Mayence. On 10 September our ship reached Cologne, and next

morning I went in search of a good horse to pursue my route in company

of friends, when, whom should I meet in the street but Normann. As a

consequence, I was obliged to change my inn, and to part with my

company. Normann was in treaty for a horse, which he finally bought. In

that way we were both provided for, but without a servant, each man

taking care of his own horse; however, the ostlers were excellent, and

there was no need to watch; one had only to command.

We started for the Low Countries on September 12, the emperor going

down the Rhine in a boat. Next day, at the branching off of the high

road, we hesitated. On inquiring at the nearest inn we were told

that one road led to Maestricht, and the other to Aix-la-Chapelle.

The first-named was the shorter by six miles; on the other hand,

Aix-la-Chapelle is the famous city founded by Charlemagne. It contains

the royal throne, it is the city where the emperor is crowned after his

election at Frankfurt. After we had discussed the "for" and "against"

at some length, we hit upon the idea of giving our horses their heads,

and leaving the bridles on their necks. By some subtle and mysterious

intuition the animals chose, according to our secret desire, the road

to Aix-la-Chapelle.

The city itself is large and in ancient style. The country around is

barren, the soil consisting of coal, stone and slate. Previous to the

foundation of the city it was simply a wilderness. There are some

excellent mineral springs; the bath, constructed in beautiful hewn

stone, is square, and about fourteen feet long; three steps enable one

to sit down with the water up to the throat, or to be immersed at a

small depth. Except the baths of the landgravate of Baden, I know of no

other arrangement equally comfortable. At the town hall, castle, and

arsenal of Charlemagne there are hundreds of thousands of sharp iron

arrows stowed away in closed chests. On entering the church one

immediately notices an ivory and gold armchair, fastened with exceeding

great art. At the lower end of the nave, to the west, a huge crown of

at least twelve feet diameter is suspended. I do not know the nature of

the material, but it is gilt and painted in colours. In the way of

relics there are the hose of Joseph. They are only shown at stated

times, but whoever has the privilege of seeing them has a great many of

his sins remitted.

On September 24 we reached Brussels in Brabant, and there I received

the order to go back to my country, the functions of solicitor to the

Imperial Chamber having been conferred upon me. Hence, on St. Denis'

Day, I began this journey of more than a hundred miles, alone and

across unknown countries, with abominable roads, above all in

Westphalia. I was often obliged to stay the night at places which were

more than suspect, and when only half-way my horse came to grief in

consequence of Normann's former rough usage. I had to swop it, paying a

sum of money besides, and was unfortunate enough to have come across a

veritable crock which I was obliged to keep, there being no help for

it. Finally, through good and evil I reached Wolgast on All Saints'

Day.

CHAPTER III

How I held for two Years the Office of _Solicitator_ at the Imperial

Chamber at Spires--Visit to Herr Sebastian Muenster--Journey to

Flanders--Character of King Philip--I leave the Princes' Service

As soon as my nomination was drawn up, I was dispatched with it to

Chancellor Citzewitz, at his estate of Muttrin, near Dantzig. The

principal personages of the land had come to consult him, and he kept

me for more than ten days with him in excellent company, making me

share their favourite recreation, and the thing that bored me most,

namely, the chase, to which the country admirably lends itself. I

returned with the chancellor to Stettin, where my warrant of

appointment was duly signed and sealed.

At Wolgast Duke Philip interrogated me at length in his own study, and

with no one else present, on the condition of affairs at Augsburg and

Brussels. He was much surprised at my boldness in having given him such

a plain and straightforward account of the doings of the court. "If

only one of your letters had been intercepted, they would have strung

you up at the nearest tree," he said. This was no exaggeration on his

part; and supposing such a catastrophe had happened, he would, in spite

of everything, have remained a prince of the empire, while there would

have been an end of me. Of course, my behaviour gave him the measure of

my devotion to him. He promised me a good horse; besides this, the

ducal kitchen provided all that was necessary for a farewell banquet,

and, in fact, at supper some pages brought us two hares from the

prince's larder. I received a hundred crowns for my loyal services, and

an appointment of one hundred and forty per annum; the cost of copying

and dispatch of messengers being charged to their Highnesses.

I went to say good-bye to my parents at Stralsund. My mother had

ordered for my sister chains and clasps which the goldsmith had as yet

not delivered. I paid for them, and, moreover, left thirty crowns at

home. "Use them, if there be any need. I'll manage to make both ends

meet with what remains." Duke Philip had given me a strong and lively

hunter. Behind the saddle I had a small saddle-bag, like the court

messengers. My brother Christian accompanied me as far as Leipzig,

where we wished to be for the fair.

Our journey was an uneventful one, except that one day in Mesnia,

having lost our way, we came at the end of a big forest upon a small

tenement which was the residence of a poor gentleman. The fast

gathering darkness compelled us to knock at the noble's dwelling, which

was inhabited by a young widow of only a few weeks' standing with her

mother-in-law. The bad-tempered old woman roughly refused us shelter.

"Go wherever you like," she snarled. Her daughter-in-law, on the other

hand, said; "We did not expect any one, and we do not keep an inn, but

it is getting darker and darker, and you would have to go a long way

before finding one. If you will be content with our humble

accommodation, you may remain for the night." At these words the other

one storms and raves. "May the devil take you and them. You have found

some youngsters who are to your taste, and you have already forgotten

my son." I tried to appease her. "We have never before been in this

country," I said to her; "at daybreak we'll be able to find our way.

You need not be afraid of our using unsuitable language or doing aught

that is not right, and we'll be satisfied with whatever accommodation

you can give us, as long as our horses have some fodder and some straw.

For all this we'll willingly pay." The virago, however, turned a deaf

ear to this. If we were not the lovers of her daughter-in-law why

should we have come at this late hour in the neighbourhood where no

stranger ever came? The young woman was very patient throughout. After

having provided us with hay and straw for our horses, she took us to a

lofty room of very modest appearance. There was no man or woman servant

to be seen; our supper, though, was none the worse for it. After she

had set all our provisions before us, our hostess sat down and told us

the sad existence she was leading. The bed was moderately comfortable,

and the sheets were clean. We paid more than was asked.

At Leipzig I stopped two days to rest my horse. I gave my brother the

wherewithal for his return journey, and continued my way alone. The

country as far as Frankfurt was known to me. From Butzbach I went by

Niederweisel and the Hundfruck, a route I had often pursued with my

former master, the commander of St. John. It is more direct than by

Friburg, but it swarms with highway robbers. As I was walking my horse

up the slope of the forest I caught sight of two horsemen who were

evidently bent on waiting for me, as they posted themselves, the one to

the left and the other to the right of the road, and when I was between

them they began interpellating me in a gruff voice. "From what

country?" "From Pomerania." "What hast thou got in thy valise?"

"Letters." "Whither art thou going?" "To Spires." "To whom dost thou

belong?" "To the Dukes of Pomerania. Here is my safe-conduct."

Thereupon one of them became more friendly. "And how is his Highness

Duke Philip, that excellent prince? I knew him very well at

Heidelberg." And on my recommendation for them to go their way and to

let me go mine, they looked at me very hard for a few moments, but did

not follow me. I sold my horse and equipment at Frankfurt, and went

down the Main as far as Mayence, whence, going up the Rhine, I got to

Oppenheim, and by the coach to Worms and Spires.

I reached the latter town on January 21, 1549. I hired a room with a

dressing closet at a clothshearer's, who was also a councillor. I also

boarded with him, like many young doctors of law and other notable

persons detained at Spires by their functions or by their wish to get

practical experience.

Dr. Simeon Engelhardt, who, by the express act of a formal decision of

his Imperial Majesty, had not been reinstated in his office of

procurator any more than his brother-in-law, the licentiate Bernard Mey

and Johannes Helfmann had transferred his household goods to Landau. At

his recommendation, Dr. Johannes Portius, for procurator, and I brought

him so many clients that he would accept no fees from me. Engelhardt

remained my advocate, notwithstanding the inconvenience of the distance

between us. How often have I walked the four miles between Spires and

Landau! By starting at the closing of the gates, I reached Landau for

the hour fixed for their opening; the morning sufficed to transact my

business with the doctor, and my return journey was accomplished in the

afternoon. Nor did Engelhardt claim any fees, but I remember having

taken to him a client who for a single act paid him twenty crowns

without his asking. The correspondence, thanks to the Pomeranian

couriers always at my disposal, was equally cheap.

The Lloytz of Stettin chose me as their solicitor.[61] Martin Weyer, in

the "Cammin" affair, did the same. There were others, and all, except

Weyer, paid me handsomely. I was getting well known among the

procurators, and I finally acted _pro principale vel adjuncto notario_.

I earned, then, sufficient to live comfortably without having recourse

to the paternal purse. I even could put aside the whole of my

appointments, and something over. The chief benefit, however, lay in

the acquisition of experience, the fruits of which have extended to the

whole of my family, because my pen has always been the sole means of

livelihood. If that business be well learnt and well carried out, it

leaves no one to starve. Folks may mention the word scribe with as much

contempt as they please; the fact remains that I have had many a choice

morsel, and drunk delicious draughts through being a scribe.

From Spires I wrote to Sebastian Muenster that their Highnesses were

particularly anxious not to hurry the printing of his excellent

_Cosmographie_, because a special messenger was to bring him a

description of Pomerania the moment it was finished, and that it would

prove not the least valuable ornament of his work. He sent word that it

was impossible for him to delay; his step-son was so deeply engaged in

the undertaking that he would be ruined if he missed the next Lent fair

at Frankfurt. I transmitted the reply to Pomerania; the same messenger

brought back a big bundle of notes, unfortunately incomplete, as they

pointed out to me. I promptly sent them to Sebastian Muenster, promising

to let him have the rest the moment I received them. He kindly sent me

an autograph letter, which my children will find joined to that of Dr.

Martin Luther.[62]

It struck me that an interview with Sebastian Muenster would enable me

to inform our princes accurately. The Imperial Chamber had its

vacation. It was an excellent opportunity to see Alsace, flowing with

corn and wine, so many handsome towns, the seat of the Margrave of

Baden, bishops and courts, and, above all, the city of Basle. Hence, I

undertook the journey on foot, an affair of about sixty miles there and

back. At Strasburg I lodged at my friend's, Daniel Capito, a poor home,

but we took our meals at the tavern of the _Ammeister_.[63]

In the church at Basle I saw the stone statue of Desiderius Erasmus, of

Rotterdam. I invited Herr Lepusculus, the fugitive of Augsburg, to

dinner, and we talked of many interesting things. I also became well

acquainted with Sebastian Muenster, who gave me a most hearty welcome. A

huge room of his house contained a quantity of plates, either cast,

engraved on wood or on copper. They had come from Germany, Italy or

France; they were geographical, astronomical, or mathematical drawings,

representing pieces of engineering work for the use of miners, and

views of cities, countries, castles, or convents, that were to figure

in his _Cosmographie_. He was most anxious for me to stay with him, so

that he might show me the objects of interest connected with the town;

unfortunately, my time was too short. After having taken leave of

Muenster and Lepusculus, I went back to Spires on foot.

I was just in time for a message from Pomerania relative to the lawsuit

between Duke Barnim and the town of Stolpe. The latter, on the pretext

of an attempt against its privileges, had deputed Simon Wolder to

attend upon the emperor. Wolder was a young jackanapes without

education, but pushing and cunning, and by dint of intriguing he

obtained the confirmation of the said privileges, and for himself the

Imperial safeguard. The people of Stolpe had their triumph, and to

judge by their swaggering one would have concluded they had no longer

anything in common with their prince and lord. Duke Barnim, though,

having entered the town amidst his soldiers, summoned the council and

the burghers to the Town Hall, and when he got them there, he forbade

those who had had a hand in the intriguing to stir, while the others

should stand aside. The majority of those present changed their

positions; the rest, and notably the Burgomaster Schwabe, a near

relation to the Bishop of Cammin, were imprisoned at Stettin, at

Greiffenberg, and at Treptow, while Simon Wolder fled to the emperor,

who was fighting the white Moors (?) in Africa. He succeeded in

obtaining from the emperor the categorical order for releasing the

prisoners, on the express penalty of being put "under the ban"; but

that injunction arrived too late. The friends of the prisoners humbly

interceded for them, and each liberation was bought at a heavy fine and

after a long detention. As for Wolder, far from resting on his oars, he

pursued his intrigues at the Imperial court, ingratiating himself with

the princes, the nobles, and the cities. He enjoyed great favour; he

dressed magnificently. Where did the money for all this display come

from? In short, at the restoration of the Imperial Chamber, an action

was begun.

The dukes of Pomerania had unquestionably cause for anxiety, for their

relations with the emperor were already very strained, and the latter's

victory made him very disinclined to exercise much consideration to the

partisans of the Augsburg confession. Simon Wolder was jubilant; he

looked upon the business as good as won; judges and assessors were

papists, and their Highnesses under a cloud of Imperial disgrace. We

devoted the most serious attention at Spires to the suit; procurator

Ziegler and advocate Johannes Kalte amply did their duty; if need had

been, I was there to spur them on. At Stettin, on the contrary, Martin

Weyer and Dr. Schwallenberger, to whom the affair was entrusted, were

mere sluggards whose conduct was disgraceful. We shall meet with

Schwallenberger again.

In May our counsellors wrote to me to take the two golden cups to

Brussels to them. The rumour ran, in fact, that the emperor's son was

coming from Spain in great pomp; and our envoys hoped to secure,

through the influence of certain important personages, his intercession

with the emperor. I started immediately, going down the Rhine as far as

the Meuse, and pursuing my journey by land by way of s'Hertogenbosch

(Bois le Due) and Louvain.

When I had delivered my precious deposit, the wish to see something of

Flanders impelled me to Ghent. It is a big city, formerly endowed with

important privileges. For instance, the emperor could impose no taxes

in Flanders or demand anything without the assent of the said city.

Charles V has deprived it of its privileges. He has razed a convent and

several houses to the ground, and on their site built a castle with

huge, deep moats filled with water, besides other remarkable outworks,

so that the city is at his mercy. In the centre of Ghent there rises a

high steeple. I climbed to the top, and it is from there that the

emperor and his brother Ferdinand chose the spot whereon to build their

fortress; they traced there, _propriis manibus_, their symbolum in red

chalk.

The castle where Charles V saw the light is a decrepit, unsightly kind

of tenement, surrounded by water, and accessible only by a drawbridge.

At the head of the bridge, on the parapet, there are two bronze

statues; one is kneeling, and behind it there is the second with

uplifted sword. Tradition has it that they represent two men condemned

to death, father and son, for whom no executioner could be found. They

then promised the father a full pardon if he would behead his son. At

his refusal the offer was made to the son, who accepted it with joy and

gratitude, and severed his father's head from the trunk.

In Antwerp I met with Herr Heinrich Buchow, the future counsellor of

Stralsund. We had both heard much about the house of Gaspard Duitz,

about a good mile distant from the city. People compared it to the

castle of Trent, some even said that it was handsomer. We obtained a

letter from the owner to his steward, who showed us everything, and

really rumour had not been guilty of exaggeration. Though there were a

great number of them, each room was differently decorated; each

contained a bed and a table. The hangings were of the same colour as

the bed-curtains, and the cloth on the table which was either of velvet

or damask, black, red or violet, as the case might be. Musical

instruments everywhere, but varying in every room. Here a kettledrum;

there Polish viols, elsewhere lutes, harps, zithers, hautboys,

bassoons, Swiss fifes, etc. The girl who showed us over the place quite

correctly played the kettledrum, the viol and the lute. In front of the

house a beautiful garden cultivated with art, and enhanced by many

exotics. Further on a zoological collection. The ground floor has one

hall of such magnificence that one day Madame Marie entertained her

brother there. The emperor, having looked and appreciated everything,

asked: "To whom, sister mine, belongs this house?" "To our treasurer."

"Well," rejoined the emperor, "our treasurer evidently knows the

science of profit-making."

This Gaspard Duitz, an Italian by birth, a shrewd and even cunning

merchant, had exercised commerce on a large scale at Antwerp, and

failed twice if not three times. When he had thousands upon thousands

of crowns in hand, he asked his creditors for five years' delay. Madame

Marie, for instance, gave him such letters of respite. Of course,

those rogueries made him very wealthy, and when Madame Marie was in

need of money, her treasurer came to her aid. A house in Antwerp,

which had cost him thousands of florins, not having realized his

expectations--the drawbacks of a structure becoming only apparent after

it is finished--he had it razed to the ground and rebuilt according to

his taste.

The Count Maximilian van Buren (the same who, in the Schmalkalden

campaign, took the Dutch horsemen to the emperor), having heard of

Duitz's famous country seat, "invited himself" to it. Master Gaspard

treated his visitor magnificently, showed him everything, and when

taking leave inquired if perchance the count had noticed some fault or

shortcoming in the decorations or general disposition of the whole;

for, if such were the case, he would alter it, even if he had to send

for artists from Venice or Rome. "No," replied the count; "the only

thing wanting is a high gallows at the entrance, with Gaspard Duitz

securely swinging from it." That was the count's acknowledgment of his

host's hospitality, and he might have added: "With a crown on his head,

as an arch-thief."[64]

From Antwerp I went to Malines. What an admirable country! Louvain,

Brussels and Antwerp, three big and handsome cities, are at an equal

distance from each other, and Malines, which one always has to cross to

get to either, stands in the centre. Along the route there are

magnificent castles and lordly dwellings. Malines is a pretty city,

though the smallest of the four; the water is brought there _labore et

industria hominum_, and enables one to reach Antwerp by boat. I saw the

damage caused by the lightning of August 7, 1546, when it fell on a

powder magazine, which was entirely destroyed, together with the outer

wall; huge quarters were hurled on the roofs of houses. There was a

great loss of life and property.

At Malines I went to see Vogel Heine, who, in the days of Maximilian I,

the great-great-grandfather of the present emperor, went in advance to

prepare the night quarters. The emperor had left him sufficient to live

upon; the woman who took care of him had her lodging and firing. Heine

was so old and so decrepit as to be unable to stir from a room that was

constantly heated. People gave the woman a small tip to see her charge,

and in that way she made for herself a small income instead of wages.

From Louvain I took the most direct and shortest road to Juliers and

Cologne; at the latter place I put up at _The Angel_. The host had a

raven that spoke, and even understood what was said to it. If, in the

evening, there was a knock at the door, the bird asked: "Is anybody

knocking?" "Yes," replied the new-comer. But as the travellers' room

happened to be at the back of the house, overlooking the Rhine, nobody

stirred, and the knocking was repeated, the bird, on its part,

repeating the same question. "Can't you hear?" said the claimant for

admission, out of patience, and knocking much louder, so that they

could hear it from the travellers' room. Naturally, the servant came to

open the door, and endeavoured to mollify the would-be guest's anger by

saying that they had heard no knocking. Thereupon the other called him

a liar, or at any rate treated him as such; thereupon the cage with the

bird in it was pointed out as evidence, and everything was well. The

bird, upon the whole, was most remarkable, and many great personages

made the most tempting offers for it, which were always refused. Six or

seven years later, when I visited Cologne again, I inquired what had

become of the bird, and its owner told me that he was then at law with

a gentleman who, coming in drunk, had drawn his sword and cut the

bird's head off. The host assured me that he would sooner have lost

three hundred crowns.

After having gone up the Rhine as far as Mayence, I took the coach to

Spires.

In June 1549 King Philip, the emperor's son, came to Spires with a

numerous suite. His father had appointed the cardinal of Trent, a

Seigneur de Madrutz, as his marshal. The king was then about twenty-two

years of age, my junior by seven. His far from intellectual face gave

little hope of his equalling his father one day. The Elector of

Heidelberg, the other counts palatine, the ecclesiastical electors, all

of them in their state carriages, attended on him when he went to

church. Well, I often saw his father under similar circumstances. When

he came out of his apartments and mounted his horse in the courtyard,

where princes and electors already in the saddle awaited him, he was

the first to take his hat off. If it happened to rain, so much the

worse. He remained bare-headed, and was not the less affable either in

speech or gesture. He held out his hand to everybody, and did the same

when he came back. When, at the foot of the staircase, he turned out,

faced his escort, took off his hat, and bade them farewell in a

gracious manner.

King Philip, on the contrary, was most exacting with the electors and

the princes, though many of them were old men. While the latter

dismounted at the door of the church, Philip went in without troubling

about them, making signs behind his back with his hands for them to

march by his side, but they merely followed him. After the service they

accompanied the king back to the palace. He jumped down, and went up

the stairs without a look or a word of farewell. His marshal had,

nevertheless, told him that there was a great difference between

Spanish and German princes. As a proof of this, he quoted to him the

paternal example, as typified by the consideration shown to the German

nobles by the emperor, but Philip answered: "Between myself and my

father, the difference is as great, for he is only the son of a king; I

am the son of an emperor." After having officially made their

appearance, the princes promptly left for their own States. Philip

spent a few more days hunting and going about, his suite being reduced

to fourteen or twelve horses, and then the Duke of Aarschot came for

him, by order of the emperor, to take him with a magnificent escort to

Brussels.

Notwithstanding my constant reminders to them of the mortal danger of

delay, the Stettin authorities were terribly slow in sending me the

most indispensable documents for the serious lawsuit against the town

of Stolpe. As some people, moreover, were attempting to discredit me

with Duke Barnim, I wrote to Chancellor Falck, who answered me: "You do

not deserve the slightest reproach. All the neglect is on this side;

but, in truth, the whole of your letter is so much Arabic to me,

because I have not the faintest idea of the lawsuit itself." That is

how things are managed at courts.

On the banks of the Rhine it is the custom to organize at twelfth night

a complete court--king, marshal, steward, cup-bearer, etc. As a matter

of course, the court fool is indispensable. The charges are drawn for

by lot; each pays part of the expenses; alone the fool is exempt. In

1550 there gathered round our table a young baron from the Low

Countries, a bright young fellow, with considerable experience of the

world, also several persons of consideration who were detained at

Spires by their law business. It fell to my lot to be king, with the

baron for my marshal. As for the fool, chance had picked out our host,

the priest, and nature seemed really to have created him for the part.

In my capacity of king I had a many-coloured hooded cloak of English

linen made for him. When we had visitors, and, thanks to the gay baron,

this happened frequently, our host put on his cloak and took our guests

to task. We shook with laughter, but he himself fared very well by it,

for his buffoonery brought him many silver and even gold pieces. He

bought himself silver bells for his cap, and his cloak became spangled

with gold and silver coins.

This went on until "kingdom" time, which is celebrated one Sunday

evening between twelfth night and Shrovetide. There are three or four

kingdoms each Sunday, and the masked people of both sexes go from one

gathering to another in fancy dress and accompanied by musicians. They

have the right of three dances with those who give the entertainments.

All this afforded capital opportunities for every kind of dissipation

and debauch. One evening, for instance, it happened that a husband and

his wife, after having danced together, divided for the second dance

and came together for the third, without, however, recognizing each

other. Side by side they went to another house, and having understood

each other's desires by the pressure of their hands, they indulged

their sudden fancy on their way in the penumbra of a clothworker's shop

in the market place, and never did the hallowed joys of matrimony taste

like the forbidden fruit of infidelity; at any rate, so each imagined.

Being anxious to know who was his partner, the swain cut a snippet from

her dress and, moreover, made her a present of a gold piece, then both

joined the rest of the company. The husband was a chamois-leather

dresser, and next morning some one came to buy a skin, and tendered a

large coin. As he had no change himself, he took his wife's satchel and

found the golden piece, which he recognized at once. When the customer

was gone, the dame had to show the gown she wore on the previous

evening, the husband confronted her with the abstracted piece of stuff.

Denial was impossible, but the one happened to be as guilty as the

other.

We gave our fool ample opportunity to adorn his dress. At the carnival

he made himself conspicuous by many pleasant quips and pranks; the

marshal also did wonders, standing erect before his Majesty, and

zealously attending upon him by bringing up the dishes, carving the

viands, and cleaning the table with many genuflections and kissing of

hands. The king paid very dearly for his three or four hours' reign.

Our host was a careless, irresponsible creature, more fit for the life

of camps or of courts than for the priesthood; a gambler, a rogue, a

boaster, a drunkard, a brawler, and an adept at jesting and practical

joking. He did not care whether his boarders were papists or

evangelicals. He was one of the three who celebrated early mass at the

cathedral. His young boarders, the graduates, were fond of cards, and

clever gamblers. They thought that a seasoned gamester like their host

must necessarily be a valuable adviser, so they spent their night round

the board. About three in the morning their landlord cried: "Brothers,

don't you move; I am going to say mass. But it will be short and sweet;

just long enough to blow the dust off the altar, and I'll be back." And

he was as good as his word.

It was a custom to place, during the night of Good Friday, a crucifix

in one of the lateral chapels, and the three priests who said early

mass were deputed to watch over it. Long files of matrons prostrated

themselves, face downward, and deposited their offerings. On one

occasion, towards three in the morning, the reverend guardians who no

longer expected contributors, divided the receipts and began to gamble.

Thanks to his long practice, our host won every penny to the annoyance

of his colleagues. A quarrel ensued at the foot of the cross, followed

by blows; our man being the strongest, the victory and the money

remained with him.

In "Rogation Week" the clergy in their richest vestments, and carrying

crosses, banners, and relics, perambulate the fields, followed by

crowds of men and women. A young priest, thinking this a propitious

time for an assignation, left the procession, and disappeared among the

standing corn, whither a young damsel went after him. Two workmen,

though, had noticed the manoeuvre; they watched for the opportune

moment, surprised the couple, and only left the "black beetle" after

having stripped him of his gown and surplice, both which "proofs

positive" they brought to the dean of the chapter.

I have not the least doubt that the King of Spain interceded in favour

of our princes. Assiduous solicitations, but above all the goldsmiths'

work and the gratifications so much prized at courts and in large

cities, mollified the influential counsellers, the Seigneur de

Granvelle, his son, the Bishop of Arras, and others. The emperor

finally consented to an arrangement, one of the conditions of which was

the payment of a fine of ninety thousand florins. The Imperial

chancellerie demanded three thousand florins for engrossing the act of

reconciliation, which I could have done as elegantly in one day. The

Bishop of Arras, to whom reverted half the chancellery fees, abandoned

them in our favour, but he lost nothing by his generosity. In sum, this

little matter cost two hundred thousand florins.

One of the conditions imposed upon our princes was the acceptance of

the "Interim." The Pomeranian clergy unanimously rejected this work of

Satan. The council of Stralsund summoned the ministers before it to

forbid them pronouncing the word "Interim" from the pulpit, and, above

all, to add any ill-sounding expression to it on the penalty of being

deposed from their sacred office. As for the doctrines themselves, they

were at liberty to weigh and to refute them by the Holy Scriptures. But

superintendent Johannes Freder, an obstinate and narrow-minded man,

replied that as a good shepherd he neither could nor would deliver his

flock to the rage of devouring wolves, for to do this would be to

imperil his own body and soul. He furthermore said that if he were

dismissed God would provide, and that, moreover, men of education were

not liked at Stralsund. The council adjourned the meeting, and two of

its members intimated his dismissal to Freder.

The next day the ministers presented a petition signed by all except

Johannes Niemann. They claimed their liberty of conscience and their

right to serve the cause of truth by denouncing from the pulpit the

damnable abominations of the "Interim." "One must obey God rather than

men," they said. The impetuous Alexis Grosse and Johannes Berckmann

were conspicuous by their anger. They hurled the most offensive

accusations against honest Niemann, and tried to carry things with such

a high hand that the council, greatly irritated, decided there and then

upon the dismissal of Grosse, after payment of the arrears due to him.

The other preachers expected the same fate, but matters went no

farther, so Niemann would have risked nothing by adding his signature

to that of his colleagues. Besides, the Interim was assailed from every

direction; the attacks were made in German, in Latin, in Italian, in

French, and in Spanish. Every line was weighed and refuted in the name

of the Holy Word. The pope, for very shame, did not know where to hide

his face.

Let my children bear in mind the high degree of fortune attained by the

emperor. At the summit of that prosperity, when everything seemed to

proceed according to his desires, he imagined that unhindered he could

break his promise to undertake nothing against the Augsburg confession.

For love of the pope, he contemplated ruining the unshakable stronghold

of Luther. From that moment the emperor's star waned; all his

enterprises failed. Instead of being razed to the ground, Luther's

stronghold was, on the contrary, furnished with solid ramparts, and

to-day it counts powerful defenders in Germany, such as the Duke of

Prussia, the Margrave of Baden, the Margrave Ernest von Pforzheim, and

others, while among other nations the number of champions inspired by

the blood of the martyrs is constantly on the increase. That stronghold

shall set its enemies at defiance for evermore.

At Stettin they went on blackening my character so effectually that Dr.

Schwallenberg succeeded in getting himself sent on a mission to repair

the effects of my supposed neglect. On my side, I had made up my mind

to resign the functions of solicitor, and to leave Spires in December.

I wrote to that effect to Chancellor Citzewitz, giving him the motives

for my decision.

At his arrival Dr. Schwallenberg took up his quarters at a canon's of

his acquaintance--an easy method of being boarded and lodged for

nothing; he had retrenched in that way all along the route, though

taking care to put down his expense in the usual manner. When I

presented myself at his summons, he was at table; he did not ask me to

sit down, adopted a haughty tone, and even wished me to serve him. I,

however, protested energetically. "This is not part of my duty. If

there was an attempt to impose it upon me, I should refuse it; in that

respect I have finished my apprenticeship. On the other hand, the

advocate and I are very anxious to have your views on the affairs of

our princes which have entailed so much writing upon me, at present

without any result. Will you please name your own time?" "I'll see the

advocate by himself," replied Schwallenberg. And, in fact, he went to

the lawyer, but instead of entering upon the discussion of the urgent

questions, he insinuated that I was a fifth wheel on the coach. "Get

him dismissed, and his emoluments will increase your modest fees," he

remarked. The advocate was an honourable man. He replied that I was

being slandered, and that he did not care about earning money by means

of a cabal. Thereupon Dr. Schwallenberg went for a trip to Strasburg.

At his return the arguments of the case were ready, but he refused to

read them, alleging that they had to be submitted to the dukes. I

dispatched a messenger, who also carried a missive from Schwallenberg.

The latter then departed for the Diet of Ratisbon. In due time came the

princes' answer, and feeling certain that it related to the lawsuit, I

opened it and read as follows:

"Very learned, dear and faithful! We are pleased to express to thee our

particular satisfaction at thy diligence at re-establishing our

affairs, so greatly compromised by our solicitor that without thy

arrival on the spot they would have entirely lapsed. As for the

arguments thou hast elaborated with the advocate, we have ordered them

to be returned to thee the moment our counsellors shall have examined

and according to need amended them. We also authorize thee to go to the

Diet of Ratisbon at our cost, etc."

It would be difficult to conceive blacker treachery. For at least a

twelvemonth I had despatched messenger after messenger for

instructions. In spite of that, all the delay had been imputed to me. A

rogue presented as his work arguments not one word of which belonged to

him; he had not even taken the trouble to read the documents. And while

the princes tendered him their thanks, my disgrace was complete.

I had no longer anything to expect from my fellow-men; the Almighty,

however, chose that moment to make my innocence patent to every one,

and to confound my enemies. Thus was Mordecai laden with honours after

the ignominious fall of Haman. Yes, even before the arguments were sent

back from Pomerania, the Chamber delivered the following judgment: "In

the matter of the town of Stolpe and of Simon Wolder against his Grace

Barnim, Duke of Pomerania, etc., we decide and declare that the said

duke is acquitted of all the charges and obligations advanced against

him by the plaintiffs." What hast thou to say against that, infamous

libeller? Hide thy head with shame, vile hypocrite! The feelings with

which I despatched a special messenger to the duke may easily be

imagined. It may be equally taken for granted that I did not mince

matters in pointing out the merits of Dr. Schwallenberg. And although

his diabolical machinations had filled my heart with sadness, they

turned to my profit and my salvation, so true it is that the Lord

converts evil into good. I was, however, strengthened in my decision to

abandon the office of solicitor, and, above all, the princes' service,

and that notwithstanding Citzewitz's offer, both verbal and in writing,

of a profitable position at the chancellerie of Wolgast. I had become

disgusted with the life at courts. A new career was open to me in a

town where, though the devil and his acolytes have not quite given up

the game, there is nevertheless a means of enjoying one's self and to

live and die according to God's precepts. My sister, who was married to

Peter Frubose, burgomaster of Greifswald, proposed to me to marry her

sister-in-law. As I expected to be at Greifswald on New Year's Day, I

wrote to her to arrange the wedding before the carnival. A cabinet

messenger, who was going home for good, sold me a young grey trotting

horse, with its bridle and saddle.

Everything being wound up and settled with the advocates and

procurators, etc., and having taken regular leave of them, I bade

farewell to Spires on December 3, 1550, so disgusted with the Imperial

Chamber as to have made up my mind never to return to it during my

life. I had remained in foreign parts for five years in the interests

of my father's lawsuit, in addition to the two years I had spent in

behalf of the dukes of Pomerania. These years were not altogether

without result. In fact, both in the chancelleries of Margrave Ernest

and of the Commander of St. John, as well as at the secretary's office

of our dukes and at the diets, I furthered my own affairs and amassed

more money than many a doctor. It had all been done by my talent as a

law writer, an art which is neither taught in Bartolus nor in Baldus,

but which requires much application, memory, readiness to oblige and

constant practice. Truly, I had worked day and night, and, as this

narrative shows, incurred many dangers. Many folk after me, dazzled by

my success, tried in their turn to become law writers, but they very

soon succumbed to the monotony of the business, to the incessant

labour, to the protracted vigils, to hunger, thirst, cares and dangers.

Barely one in a hundred succeeds.

I reached Stettin on December 21, and, all things considered, there was

nothing to grumble at in the welcome I received. The counsellors, among

whom were Schwallenberg's confederates, heard my explanations at length

as they said on behalf of the prince. I was warned that they had agreed

upon baulking me of an audience. The next day they informed me that the

duke was as pleased with the energy I had shown as with the tenour of

my report, and that I was authorized to bring a plaint against

Schwallenberg. As for the prince's promise of a gratification, he had

not forgotten it, and he asked me to exercise patience for a few days.

He evidently wished to consult with the court of Wolgast. I answered as

follows:

"Great is my joy to learn that my lord and master appreciates my

devotion and acknowledges how undeserved was my disgrace. I should be

grieved to have to attack Dr. Schwallenberger on the eve of my

marriage. The evidence, however, is conclusive; the duke is more

interested than I in the punishment of the rogue. What, after all, have

I to gain by a lawsuit now that the prince, heaven be praised, thanks

me by word of mouth and in writing? Nor is it possible for me to wait

here for the promised recompense. I prefer to come back after the

wedding."

When they became aware of my determination to abandon the court for the

city, all the counsellors intoned a "hallelujah." There was an

instantaneous change of language and behaviour to me. They were lavish

with offers of service, but the first sentence of Chancellor Citzewitz

at our meeting was: "A plague upon the bird that will not wait for the

stroke of fortune." Here ends the story of my life previous to my

marriage.

PART III

CHAPTER I

Arrival at Greifswald--Betrothal and Marriage--An old Custom--I am in

Peril--Martin Weyer, Bishop

I reached Greifswald on January 1, 1551, at nightfall. I was thirty

years old. After I had written to Stralsund for my parents' consent,

and had conferred with my Greifswald relatives and those of my future

wife, the invitations for the betrothal were sent out on both sides. On

January 5, in the chapel of the Grey Friars, at eight in the morning,

Master Matthew Frubose made a solemn promise to give me his daughter,

in the presence of the burgomasters, councillors, and a large number of

notable burghers. Burgomaster Bunsow gave me a loan of two hundred

florins.

The worshipful council had been obliged to suppress the dances at

weddings, because the manner in which the men whirled the matrons and

damsels round and round had become indecent. Those who infringed the

order, no matter what was their condition, were cited before the minor

court. It so happened that a week after our betrothal my intended and I

were invited to a wedding at one of the principal families. When the

wedding banquet was over, my betrothed came back to me, and, being

ignorant of the council's orders, I danced with her, but most quietly,

and a very short time. Notwithstanding this, an officer of the court

came the next morning and summoned me to appear. At the first blush I

could scarcely credit such an instance of incivility. Moreover, it

boded ill, and I could not help foreseeing struggles, animosities, and

persecution in this manner of bidding me welcome by a satellite of the

hangman after an absence of eight years. Does not the poet say, _Omina

principiis semper inesse solent_? I was very indignant, and ran to the

eldest of the burgomasters. He pointed out to me that urgent and severe

proceedings were necessary against the coarse licence of the students

and others, but my case being entirely different, he promised to stay

all proceedings.

I had not said a word about the dowry, and least of all had I inquired

as to its amount; but my sister told me that my father-in-law gave his

daughter two hundred florins. I made no answer. My chief concern was to

get a wife. According to my brother's calculations, one hundred marks

yearly would suffice to keep the house. Experience told me a different

story.

I went to Stralsund for my wedding clothes and other necessary things.

My father gave me some sable furs he had had for many years. I bought

the cloth for the coat as well as the rest of my marriage outfit. My

father had put in pledge the things I intended offering to my bride. I

was obliged to redeem them. Among several other objects there was a

piece of velvet for collarettes for my betrothed and my sister. At

Frankfurt-on-the-Main I had bought a dagger ornamented with silver.

Those various purchases exhausted my stock of money.

Although I had invited my numerous Stralsund relatives on both sides in

good time, only Johannes Gottschalk, my old schoolfellow and colleague

at the chancellerie of Wolgast, came to my wedding. He made me a

present of a golden florin of Lubeck.

My marriage took place at Greifswald on February 2, 1551. As I was one

of the last to "mount the stone," it may be interesting to give an

account of that old custom. At three in the afternoon, and just before

the celebration of the marriage service, the bridegroom was conducted

to the market place between two burgomasters, or, in default of these,

between the two most prominent wedding guests. At one of the angles of

the place there was a square block of stone, on which the bridegroom

took up his position, the guests ranging themselves in good order about

fifty paces away. The pipers gave him a morning greeting lasting about

five or six minutes, after which he resumed his place in the wedding

procession. The purpose of the ceremony, according to tradition, was to

give everybody an opportunity of addressing some useful remark to the

bridegroom at that critical moment. These remarks were often more

forcible and outspoken than flattering, and were not always

distinguished by their strict adherence to the truth.

Johannes Bunsow, the son of the burgomaster, had been a suitor for my

wife's hand; the preliminary arrangements to the marriage were as good

as completed, and the invitations to the betrothal festivities were

about to be sent out when everything was broken off, in consequence of

the exacting demands of the proud wife of the burgomaster from the

parents of the girl. The burgomaster's wife was considerably upset

about all this. It so happened that on the wedding-day at the breakfast

my wife was seated between the dames Bunsow and Gruwel. My father, who

was her cavalier, sat opposite. All at once, the burgomaster's wife

said to the bride, "Eat, my girl, eat, for this is the happiest day of

thy life. I had made other plans for thy happiness, but thou didst not

fall in with them. The culprit is either thy brother or his wife. Keep

thy husband at a distance, for if thou givest him an inch he will take

an ell; therefore, be 'stand-offish' with him in the beginning." At

these words Dame Gruwel exclaimed: "Good heaven, what sad advice! Make

thy mind easy, child; there are many happy days in store for thee."

Eighteen months later, as we were standing talking in the street, Peter

and Matthew Schwarte and I, Dame Bunsow who went by, spoke to us. With

the admirable volubility that distinguishes the women of Greifswald,

she had a word for all of us. "Dear cousins," she said to the

Schwartes, "how do you do? how are your wives? and how are your

children?" Then, turning to me, "And how are you, cousin? How is your

wife? I need not ask you about the children. You are having a good year

of it. In these hard days one may as well save the bread." "That's

farthest from our thoughts," I answered, "but that's because my wife is

not 'stand-offish' enough with me." She knew what I was driving at,

turned crimson, and went away without saying another word.

A week after my marriage, on the Sunday, I returned to Stettin, as had

been agreed upon. It was a fatiguing, not to say dangerous journey,

because of the inundations. From the moment of my marriage the devil

seemed to have declared war against me. It was, I suppose, his revenge

for my having disappointed him by leaving the court, where I might have

proved of great service. On the other hand, his Master, our Lord and

Saviour, took me under His protection. A very heavy snowfall had been

succeeded by a sudden thaw, the effect of a warm and continuous rain.

As a consequence, the overflowing of banks everywhere, the mill-stream

near Ukermuende had swept away the roadway at several spots. On the very

day of my departure, a van laden, among other things, with a case of

sealed letters, registers, documents and parchments, had passed that

way, coming from Wolgast. Our travellers, knowing that they were on the

high road, went ahead. Suddenly the horses fell into a deep rut; the

cart was overturned, and only by a mighty effort did beasts and men

escape drowning. They had to spend the night at Ukermuende to dry the

letters.

I came to the spot of the accident in the afternoon. I was gaily

trotting along, for I was following the highway and the fresh traces of

the vehicle from Wolgast. My good fortune befriended me in the shape of

a miller's lad who was standing by the water. He called out and showed

me a little lower down, to the right, the way to a small burgh, having

passed which I should find a long road and a bridge, the only available

passage left. Though night was gathering fast, I ventured into the

sodden road, beaten by big muddy waves. My horse was soon breast deep

in the water, the force of the current threatening at every moment to

sweep it off its legs. The poor beast was perfectly conscious of its

danger, and reared whenever it felt the ground slipping away. Finally,

the journey was accomplished without serious mishap, though it was

completely dark when I got to the inn at Ukermuende, where the

travellers from Wolgast and the host himself could scarcely believe

their eyes.

I felt confident of having faithfully served Duke Barnim; I was,

therefore, justified in my expectation of a princely remuneration.

Heaven forbid that I should impute unfairness to this excellent

gentleman, but part of the counsellors connected by birth with the

people of Stolpe, were dissatisfied with the issue of the lawsuit,

while others, such as Martin Weyer, had disgraced themselves by

assisting Schwallenberg in his intrigues. In short, they discussed me

so well that the prince only allowed me five and twenty florins as a

gratification, while Duke Philip, whose business had not given me a

hundredth part of the worry, presented me with five and twenty crowns.

The court at Wolgast had waited to see what Stettin should do. Later on

it employed me in a great many cases yielding large fees and spreading

my name throughout the country. From Wolgast they sent me for my

wedding a wild boar and four deer; at Stettin, the marshal told me that

they intended to do likewise, but no one had paid any further attention

to the matter.

On returning from Stettin night overtook me on the heath. It was

infested with wolves, boars, and other dangerous animals; moreover,

strange apparitions and terrible noises were often seen and heard

there. I saw nothing; I heard nothing; and, besides, felt not in the

least afraid.

I have already mentioned that the discussion with regard to the

bishopric of Cammin had been brought before the Imperial Diet.[65]

Canon Martin Weyer, the delegate of the chapter, was on most friendly

terms with the Bishop of Arras; they had studied together at Bologna.

In the course of their discussions on the subject, they put themselves

this question: If the deposition of the bishop is to be persisted in,

where can we find a candidate agreeable to the emperor, and not too

antipathetic to the dukes of Pomerania? Thereupon his Grace of Arras

conceived the idea of proposing Weyer himself. At first, the latter

opposed the project altogether, objecting that he was not of the popish

religion. His interlocutor assured him, however, that there was a means

of arranging with the legate to obtain a dispensation. Briefly, when

restored to favour, the dukes of Pomerania asked the emperor to accept

as Bishop of Cammin Martin Weyer, their faithful subject, servitor and

counsellor, and besides, a saintly man, almost an angel. He soon laid

bare the bottom of his heart, _honores enim mutant mores et magistratus

virum docet_. At the manifest instigation of the legate and of the

Bishop of Arras, the new prelate sent his secretary to Rome to render

homage to the pope, who afterwards granted the bulls _in optima forma_.

I fancied the time had come for Martin Weyer largely to remunerate the

services I had rendered him as his solicitor at the Imperial Chamber

during two years, but to my written requests he answered with very bad

grace when he answered at all. I must admit that having been for a

twelvemonth or so Weyer's companion at Augsburg, and during the journey

to the Low Countries, I did, perhaps, not treat him with sufficient

ceremony according to his taste. I deemed it sufficient to address him

as "Your Grace," without the "serenissime," and that vexed him.

Besides, he failed to digest the defeat of Schwallenberg and his gang,

not the least accessory to which he had been.

I have seen at the chancellerie of Wolgast a missive from Weyer to Duke

Philip couched in the following terms: "From the authentic copy

herewith of the papal bulls, your Grace" (he did not add "serenissime")

"will perceive that his Holiness, yielding to his inclination for my

person even more than to your Grace's recommendation, has entrusted me

with the spiritual government of Cammin." The affair ended in a

convocation of one day at Cammin, where Weyer was assisted by Dr.

Tauber, of Wittenberg, invested with the title of chancellor. It was

positively stated that he had promised him fifteen hundred golden

florins. I went to the convocation with the delegates of Greifswald to

try to drag something from the new bishop, and finally, Canon von Wolde

succeeded in getting thirty crowns for me. I had therefore an

opportunity of witnessing a sitting of the diet.

Two tables covered with black velvet cloths had been placed in the hall

fifteen paces apart. At the one sat Duke Bogislaw, acting for himself

and in the name of his brothers, at that time absent from the country.

Standing before him were the Marshal Ulrich Schwerin, the Chancellor

Citzewitz, and several counsellors and delegates of the States. The

bishop occupied the other table, Tauber standing by his side; and in

front the episcopal counsellors and the delegates of the chapter. Each

party exposed at length the rights with which it was invested.

Citzewitz having said, "The princes are lords of the chapter," Dr.

Tauber replied, "Yes, _sed secundum quid_? His Grace," turning towards

the bishop, "is in plenary possession of the right of administration of

the chapter." Ulrich Schwerin, who was not well versed in letters,

asked the meaning of _secundum quid_. "It's a term of contempt," said

Citzewitz; "it's tantamount to saying that the dukes are princes like

those on the playing cards." Schwerin's angry face was worth watching.

"A plague upon the scoundrel for treating our princes like playing card

personages." From that time Tauber was known throughout the land as the

doctor _secundum quid_.

After a most lengthy disputation, each party presented its formula for

the convocation of the bishop to the diets and sittings. That of the

princes was as follows:

"To our venerable chief prelate, counsellor, dear and faithful Seignor

Martin, Bishop of Cammin. Our greetings, dear, venerable and beloved!

The welfare of our countries and of the common fatherland forbidding us

from further delay in the convocation of a diet, we have decided to

hold it on the ... in our city of Stettin, where we graciously request

you to be present on the said day, to hear our intentions."

As for the bishop, his formula was indited somewhat differently:

"To the high and venerable in God, the Seignor Martin, Bishop of

Cammin, our signal friend. Our friendly greeting, high and venerable in

God, and signal friend. The welfare of our countries and of our common

fatherland forbidding us from further delay in the convocation of a

diet, we have decided to hold it on the ... in our city of Stettin,

where we amicably request you to be present on the said day."

I never knew the issue of the debate, and took no trouble to find out,

as at the conclusion of the first sitting I embraced an opportunity of

returning home by carriage. I am disposed to think that the chapter had

better remain under the authority of the House of Pomerania. Princely

titles are best suited to born princes; people of mediocre condition do

not know how to bear them. They carry their heads too high, and their

would-be magnificence exceeds all bounds.

CHAPTER II

Severe Difficulties after my Marriage--My Labours and Success as a

Law-Writer and Notary, and subsequently as a Procurator--An account of

some of the Cases in which I was engaged

I trust my children may be enabled to read the following attentively

and remember the same as my justification. They will learn that I

devoted every moment to my work, and avoided all useless expense, that

I kept away from the tavern, went but rarely to weddings or banquets,

and only entertained guests when not to do so would have been

unbecoming, as, for instance, on occasions of family feasts or of civic

repasts. It is--thanks to that retired life, scarcely diversified by

the rare indulgence of a favourite dish washed down by a copious

libation--that I have been enabled to amass a sufficient competence to

make the devil and his acolytes burst with envy. Their jealousy goes as

far as to accuse me of having arrived very poor at Stralsund, and to

have ransomed the city, magnified my travelling expenses, and abused

the custody of the seals. This third part of the story of my life will

explain the origin of my fortune. Stralsund has never been instrumental

in making my position, and I have never proved false to my oath.

My monetary provision after my wedding consisted of Gottschalk's golden

florin, hence, two florins of current coin; my savings and the

gratifications were nothing more than a memory. I had nothing to expect

from my father. We were in a bare and cold tenement we had rented; in

default of a boiler my wife did the washing in an earthen jar. Without

money and without a livelihood, I did not dare to ask my father-in-law

for the promised two hundred florins, for he had warned me that it was

my father's duty to begin paying up. I was obliged to listen to the

humiliating words, "To get married without anything to live upon." My

wife herself was getting fretful; a loaf of fine flour on our table set

her grumbling as a luxury beyond our means. She said to her mother,

"You did not advise me; you simply handed me over." A friend of her

childhood, a burgomaster's daughter, had married a wealthy old man.

Wallowing in luxury, the owner of two houses (I was his tenant), she

overwhelmed us with jokes, and asked my wife what she intended to do

with her swallow's tail, alluding to the sword I continued to wear.

What a deplorable beginning! God's help has, nevertheless, enabled me

to provide during the space of forty-six years for my wants and those

of my family. It was not a small affair, considering that the

maintenance and starting in life of my children cost more than nine

thousand florins, and my household, one year with another, three

hundred florins. I, moreover, own a well appointed house, and am

enabled to live _ex fructibus pecuniae salvo capitali_, and for the

last forty-six years could truthfully say: "I am better off to-day than

yesterday." And I have accomplished all this with my pen. Thanks be to

the Lord.

The people of the city asked me to be their scribe. The richest grain

merchant, a personage without merit save that of his money, dictated a

long petition to me, intended for the sovereign. He was pleased with my

editing and writing of it, and he asked me how much he owed me. As I

did not care to accept any remuneration, he flung two schellings of

Lubeck on the table, exclaiming, "Don't be an ass. Have you not got

your paunch to fill?" From the lips of any one else this would have

savoured of sarcasm, but that man meant no harm.

The public and private courses of the _artistae, philosophi et

jurisperiti_ of Greifswald could only be profitable to a scribe and

notary; hence, I spent every available moment attending them. I hired a

room in the priory building, and was there from morn till night, only

going home to dine, and coming back immediately afterwards. My first

clerk was the son of Master Peter Schwarz, but I could do nothing with

him; then I took Martin Speckin, who by now is a rich young fellow. His

Greifswald people brought him to me; part of his duty was to keep my

room at the priory sufficiently heated, and to precede me with the

lantern when I went out. He was a zealous servitor.

Meanwhile, I incurred everybody's criticism, and my wife showed her

displeasure pretty openly. People, she said, thought it disgraceful for

me to return to school once more. My maternal grandmother asked me if

as yet I had not learnt to keep a family. The remarks did not affect me

in the least. I continued attending the lectures of Joachim Moritz, and

day by day it appeared to me I got a better understanding of the

practice of law. My interest in useful literature also increased day by

day. _Crescit amor studii quantum ipsa scientia crescit_. Not less true

did the other proverb begin to appear: _Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa

pecunia crescit_. I also followed the public courses of Balthazar Rau,

to-day Dr. Rau of the _Libellus de anima_ of Philip Melanchthon. Nor

was I ashamed to join his _discipuli privati_, to whom he expounded at

his house the _Dialectica_ of the same author. I felt very satisfied

with myself for doing all this, and on February 19, 1552, the Imperial

Chamber inscribed my name on the roll of its notaries, on the

presentation of Duke Philip.

My eldest son saw the light on August 29 of the same year. The

confinement was a most critical one, and through the midwife's

blundering, he had a stiff neck for his life.[66] On September 1

he was christened, and received the name of Johannes. His two

godfathers were the burgomasters Gaspard Bunsow and Peter Gruwel,

and his great-grandmother stood as his godmother. My eldest daughter,

Catherine, was born on December 6, 1553, and christened the next

day.[67]

The wife of V. Prien, a daughter of the House of Maltzan, had taken

possession of the fief of Schorsow, in virtue of the privilege accorded

to noble damsels by the laws of Mecklenburg. When she died, and even

before she was buried, the Maltzans of Mecklenburg violently invaded

the fief. Joachim Maltzan, of Osten and of Nerung, who had helped his

cousins by sending them reinforcements, was cited before the Imperial

Chamber, in _poenam fractae pacis_. As he was most uneasy about the

issue of the suit, Dr. B. vom Walde and Chancellor Citzewitz advised

him to send me to Spires provided with counsel's opinion of Joachim

Moritz. I complied with their wish, though the journey was exceedingly

inconvenient to me. Joachim Maltzan provided me with two completely

equipped horses, and the necessary funds; the chancellor and the doctor

promised me a handsome gratification at my return. Instead of a

servant, I took my brother Christian, and we started on the Sunday of

Quasimodo (the Sunday after Easter). At Spires I fully instructed both

procurator and advocate. The document drawn up by Moritz elicited their

praise. They had no idea of the existence on the shores of the Baltic

of a lawyer of that merit. They soon considered their client as being

out of his difficulties, and, my mind at rest, I set out for my return

journey to Pomerania.

I got there at Whitsuntide. When sending back the horses to Maltzan, I

added my report, which put an end to his anxiety, and at the same time

forwarded an account of my expenses day by day, the price of each meal,

etc., leaving him to decide the amount of my honorarium. Well, the

moment he felt reassured, Maltzan did not show the least inclination to

settle with me; on the contrary, he accused me of having been too

lavish. "Look at the fellow, and then consider the copious meals he

took. May all the evils of Job befall thee." That was his favourite

objurgation. In vain did I call to my aid the two counsellors who, as

it were, had forced my hand. Maltzan turned a deaf ear to all my

requests. At the beginning he would have given hundreds to get over his

difficulties, but now he sang out, "I have broken the rope, and I do

not care."

He was very rich, but very mean and coarse beyond description. One

night at Wolgast, I saw him send his hose at bedtime to be repaired.

When early next morning the tailor brought the garment back, he asked a

florin for his work. Maltzan refused to give more than a schelling, and

overwhelmed the poor wretch with curses. The latter had, however, to

take what he could get. Maltzan, who could neither write nor read, was

obliged to have a secretary, but in consequence of his avarice, he had

to be content with mediocre individuals. Dr. Gentzkow found him one who

was satisfied with earning his food and a small salary. After a couple

of years, during which his master had dragged him about with him to

Rostock and elsewhere, everybody knew him as Maltzan's servant. He knew

all Maltzan's investments, as well as the dates of his revenues being

due; it was he who stored away the money in linen bags. "Put a hundred

crowns into each bag, and place them in a line," said Maltzan. "In that

way, I can see at a glance where I am; ten bags make a thousand

crowns." One fine morning the secretary stamped a blank sheet of paper

with the seal of his employer, departed for Rostock, took on credit at

the ordinary tradesman's as much velvet, satin and damask as he could

conveniently carry away, filled in the blank sheet in his master's

name, then returned and took from each bag only ten crowns in order to

dissimulate his theft. After that he went collecting the outstanding

debts, farmers' and tenants' rents, etc., and disappeared with a sum

sufficient to remunerate a good secretary for a decade of years or

more. Maltzan himself had the annoyance of having to make good the

merchant's losses. He had never been married, and his property,

amounting to a hundred thousand golden florins, fell to two cousins,

who spent it in feasting, swilling, and riotous living. One died

burdened with debt; the other is alive, but in a similar position.

Ill-gotten goods do not last.

The only means of bringing Maltzan to book seemed to me to inform the

Spires procurator of everything, and to ask him to write to Maltzan

that he was going to lose his case in default of some documents that

had remained in my possession. Duke Philip immediately recommended me

to hand them over on the penalty of being held responsible for all the

damages that might accrue. I promptly replied that I would bring them

into court, where I should have the honour of presenting my respects to

Signor Maltzan, and to claim at the same time the salary due to me.

This had the effect of making the generous gentleman swear like a devil

incarnate, to the vast joy and diversion of the prince and the

counsellors, who took great pleasure in pouring oil upon the flames.

Maltzan was obliged to count out to me there and then a hundred crowns,

which was much more than I had originally asked, and he received,

besides, a severe reprimand. My energy in the matter was fully

acknowledged, and they added: "If ever we should ask you a similar

service, you may refuse to render it without the fear of displeasing

us."

The sacristan of Mueggenwald committed homicide. The lord of the manor,

who wished to get him out of the trouble, entrusted the case to me. A

relative of the victim had retained Dr. Nicholas Gentzkow and Christian

Smiterlow for the prosecution. I obtained a verdict for the accused.

Dr. Johannes Knipstrow having announced from the pulpit, in the name

and by order of the prince, that Master J. Runge was going to succeed

him in the office of superintendent, the Greifswald council considered

the nomination as an infringement of its rights. Its _syndicus_ at

Stralsund, Dr. Gentzkow, formulated before me, a public notary convened

for the purpose, both a verbal and written protest, of the latter of

which I delivered a duly executed duplicate to the council of

Greifswald, the legitimate charge for the same being three crowns.

Bartholomew, of Greifswald, a most intelligent, but also an exceedingly

depraved goldsmith, had established himself at Stralsund with his

son-in-law, Nicholas Schladenteuffel. As their expenditure exceeded

their income, Bartholomew made counterfeit coin, Lubeck, Rostock,

Wismar and Stralsund currency. The schellings supposed to issue from

the latter city's mint contained nothing but copper. By means of some

tartaric composition he made them look so wonderfully like silver as to

deceive everybody. In a very short time both the city and the country

were inundated with this spurious coin, for Nicholas made large

purchases of cattle for the slaughter-houses. Finally, in September

1552, when the farmers and peasantry came to pay their rent, the

suspicions of the ducal land-steward were aroused, and the fraud

discovered. The witnesses' depositions pointing unanimously to a

cattle-dealer of Stralsund, the prince wrote to the council, asking it

if they struck money of that description. At that very time

Schladenteuffel was going his business rounds. Warning was given, and

one morning, when he came back to the city with some cattle, he was

apprehended and taken to prison, where his wife and five accomplices

promptly joined him. Among the latter there was one of the vicious

sedition-mongers mentioned in the first part of my recollections,

namely, Nicholas Knigge. He was, in reality, the leader of the gang; he

furnished both the copper and the silver, and he found an outlet in

Sweden for sham silver, spoons, goblets, jugs, etc. Dr. Gentzkow, whose

daughter he had married, had his sentence changed to one of lifelong

banishment. Bartholomew, although the people who came to arrest him

were close upon his heels, managed to escape.

In the Semmlow Strasse there lived a very rich merchant named C.

Middleburgh. His sordid avarice kept him away from church. On the other

hand, he carried on an extensive and harmful traffic. He exported

Bogislaw schillings and other good coin; he also got hold of gold and

silver pieces, and clipped those that appeared to him to be overweight.

In spite of this, he did not benefit by his wealth. One day he took the

Rostock coach, but instead of coming down at midday to dine with the

other travellers, he had a sleep. When the company returned and while

the ostler put in the horses, he asked the price of the meal. He was

told it was two schellings. "Very well," he said; "I have earned two

schellings by going to sleep." He was always ready to lend money on

silver plate--of course at high interest. He lived and scraped money

for many, many years. His widow continued his trafficking; she was,

however, less cautious, and fell into the hands of scoundrels, who

reduced her to beggary.

To come back to Middelburg. On October 28, 1552, at two in the

afternoon, he found himself in possession of a big cask containing

twelve barrels of gunpowder of twenty-four pounds each; hence in all

weighing two hundred and eighty-eight pounds. Close to the cask there

sat a young servant weaving some kind of woollen lace, and, as it was

very cold, she had a small stove filled with charcoal under her feet.

At that moment there appeared upon the scene old Tacke and made a

payment of a hundred Bogislaw schellings, which, having been carefully

counted by Middelburg, were left on the table while he went to the

stable for a moment. During his short absence, the servant stirs the

incandescent charcoal, a spark of which falls on the floor and ignites

the grains of powder; the house and the next to it are blown up; walls,

beams, rafters come crashing down with a horrible noise. The city

imagines that the end of the world has arrived. Of the young girl

herself they found a foot here, an arm there, a leg elsewhere, and

fragments of flesh pretty well everywhere. It was never known what had

become of the hundred schellings that were lying on the table or of the

furniture. One servant-girl was dug out from the ruins without a hurt;

she was more fortunate than the brother-in-law of the burgomaster of

Riga. They managed to drag him out by sawing some rafters beneath which

he was buried, but he died of his wounds on the third day. Two

children, though stark dead when picked up, still held a slice of bread

and butter in their tiny hands. Three persons from the country, a

mother and daughter and the latter's intended husband, who had stopped

before the house to make some purchases for their new home, were killed

outright on the spot. There were in all seven people killed. The

neighbours brought an action against Middelburg which he had to settle.

Even as far as the Passen-strasse my father had the window of his

entrance hall broken; the stove in one of the upper rooms cracked and

could never be used again; a hook used for hanging the salmon to be

smoked, and belonging to Middelburg, was found in the gutter on our

roof.

The advice of some well-meaning people, and ever growing necessity

caused me to make up my mind to practise as procurator at the Aulic

Court of Wolgast, though Counsellor Joachim Moritz, who boarded with my

uncle, tried to dissuade me. As a professor of law at Greifswald, a

jurisconsult of the court, and an assessor of the tribunal, he had had

some close experience of the idiocy, the ignorance, and the underhand

methods of my future colleagues. "_Procuratorum officium vilissimum

est_," he said to me. In fact, with the exception of Dr. Picht, the

procurators were but little versed _in grammatica vel jure_. When their

dean, who was a judge at Brandenburg, and a Mecklenburg counsellor,

came up for his degree of _licenctia juris_ at Rostock, he referred to

an insolvent litigant, "_Non est solvendus_," which provoked the

repartee of the promoter: "_Recte dicit dominus licentiandus, quia non

est ligatus_."

One day at Rostock we happened to take our dinner at the same table

with this procurator and the burgomaster of Brandenburg who, however,

was fairly well versed in the _grammatica_. The conversation turned on

a witch who was in prison at Brandenburg, and who professed to be

pregnant by the devil. The burgomaster having put the question, "_Quod

diabolus cum muliere rem habere et impregnare eam posset?_" Our

licentiate replied without wincing: "_Imo possibile est, nam diabolus

furat semen a viribus et perfert ad mulieribus_."

Simon Telchow, another procurator, for a long while master auditor at

Eldenow, and who was married to a damsel of noble birth, after having

set up as a brewer at Greifswald, had "to shut up" shop and come back

to his pen. Having contracted at court a taste for drink, he never went

to bed without being "muddled." As a matter of course, he was not very

matutinal. He, moreover, only practised _pro nudo procuratore_, and his

clients had to provide themselves with an advocate. _In causis

mandatorum_, when the _mandatarii_ eluded execution, Telchow asked for

an _arctiorem mandatum_. Sworn procurators there were none in those

days, and as the procedure in general was oral, any one endowed with

the "gift of the gab" could present himself at the bar. Since then

things have changed to the glory of the prince and the advantage of

litigants.

The experience I had gained at Spires was most useful to me in my new

career. The judges, the chancellor, and the litigants themselves seemed

to listen to me with pleasure; nay, this or that party who had not

entrusted me with his cause, made me, nevertheless, accept his money,

because he wished to retain my services, if the occasion required, or,

at any rate, deprive his opponent of them. People came to fetch me from

the country with chariot and horses to mediate between them. I was

brought back in the same manner, and each time, besides the hard cash I

received, I was laden with all kinds of provisions, hares, shoulders of

mutton, haunches of venison or of wild boar, magnificent hams, quarters

of bacon, butter, cheese, and eggs by the dozen, bundles upon bundles

of flax. My reception at home may be easily imagined. There was no

longer any risk of hearing the sad complaint, "Mother, you did not

advise me; you simply handed me over."

Peter Thun, of Schleminn, a violent-tempered man, and but too prompt to

fire a shot or to draw the sword, was at constant loggerheads with his

neighbour Ber. They were joint owners of a nice pond. Ber claimed the

exclusive enjoyment of the half adjoining his estate, and which also

happened to be the better stocked with fish. Thun, on the other hand,

maintained that the whole of the pond was joint property. Ber having

planted hemp along the common road, Thun sent his cattle to graze

there, and went himself on horseback so that his mount might trample

the plant down. Finally, a lot of peasants went under the personal

command of Thun to Ber's windmill, and promptly sapped its foundations,

so that it came down with a crash. Naturally, the law is set in motion.

Thun is condemned to indemnify Ber _constrictibus_; then comes an

appeal to the Imperial Chamber, which upholds the first verdict with

_executoriales cum refusione expensarum_; the total amounting to about

nine hundred florins.

Puffed up with his success and purse-proud besides, Ber applauded each

scurvy trick his people played his enemy. Thun, on the other hand, was

not a man to be played with. One of Ber's servants (in fact, his

illegitimate son, a young, brazen and robust fellow), finally assailed

Thun. The latter stood his ground valiantly, but his affrighted wife

seized his arm; the bastard's sword went right through him. Thun's only

heir was his nephew, a minor, the succession was most involved, and its

liquidation cost me a great deal of trouble and a number of fatiguing

journeys. My honorarium was fixed at twenty florins per annum. I only

took ten from the minor, because I never returned from Schleminn

empty-handed. Later on, his guardians made it up to me in presents of

money and in kind; they provided for my building operations splendid

oaks, which made magnificent joists. In sum, this affair yielded a good

three hundred crowns to me.

H. Smeker, of Wuestenfeld, was a character who ruined himself in

litigation and in building. He left this or that structure which was

ready to be roofed in to be spoilt by the rain or the snow, after which

he had it completely razed to the ground. A Mecklenburger named

Negendanck was, it would appear, one of his important creditors. To get

his claim settled he employed a means rather common in his country. One

night he arrived at Wuestenfeld at the head of a troop of armed

horsemen. Smeker was asleep in his room, and his wife, who had just

been brought to bed, lay in an adjoining closet. Lievetzow, her

brother, a handsome young fellow, had been accommodated with a room

near the drawbridge. Negendanck, swearing and bellowing, orders the

bridge to be lowered. Lievetzow, in his shirt, issues from his room and

tries to appease him by informing him of the condition of his sister.

Negendanck replies with a shot which kills the defenceless and

scantily-dressed stripling on the spot. Then, taking the passage by

storm, he gets as far as the invalid's room, lays his hand upon

everything, shatters the silver chest, which he knew where to find,

takes whatever he likes, and finally drags the body of her brother to

the foot of the sister's bed. Smeker, who had been awakened by the

noise, had taken flight in his nightgown. Knowing the moat to be

fordable, he had crossed it with the water shoulders high, and after

making for the stables, had taken refuge in a kind of bog inaccessible

to the horsemen. Negendanck took all the horses and cattle away with

him.

Naturally, the Imperial Chamber was finally called upon to try the

affair. A rule having been granted to prove his allegations, Smeker

came to Greifswald to enlist my services. He was an old man with a grey

head and short beard; a fluffy white gown with large pleats and black

girdle reached to his feet. In short, the feathers pretty well

indicated the nature of the bird. I had so often heard them call out at

Spires, "Smoker _contra_ Negendanck," "the Duke Heindrich of

Mecklenburg _contra_ Heindrich Smoker," as to make the name familiar to

me. To my question if he was the identical Smoker, he replied in a

surly tone, "My name is Smeker, not Smoker."

He produced a host of witnesses, many of whom lived in outlying regions

of Pomerania or Mecklenburg; their hearing involved constant

travelling. Smeker would have never got out of the difficulty by

himself, in consequence of his want of ready money. The moment he found

himself in possession of some, he got hold of the horse of one of his

peasantry as if to ride to the nearest village, and never drew rein

until he got to Spires. If, during his journey, the money ran short, he

borrowed from people who all knew him and were sure of being repaid by

his son Mathias. Not only did he pay nothing to his procurator, Dr.

Schwartzenberg, but the latter had to feed him, to advance the

chancellery fees, and to look to his return journey. Mathias, on the

other hand, was most open-handed. His secretary, who came to Greifswald

in order to watch the proceedings, lavished claret wine and tarts on

the commissaries, and even sent some to my wife. Each session was worth

from between fifty to seventy crowns to me. That secretary appreciated

my trouble like a true expert. Said inquiry brought me about two

hundred and fifty crowns.

On the occasion of a suit before the Imperial Chamber, and in which

little Heindrich gained the day against big Heindrich--that was the

designation of Smeker respectively of himself and his adversary--the

Duke of Mecklenburg, the latter carried off all Smeker's sheep. Among

the flock there was an old ram, accustomed to get a bit of bread at

meal times from his master's hands. The animals either escaped, or

perhaps the duke had them driven back to Wuestenfeld. At any rate, the

ram appeared at the head of the flock, its appetite sharpened by the

march, and, moreover, fond of bread, ran towards the table. No sooner

did Smiterlow catch sight of it than he got up, doffed his hat, and

bade it welcome. "What an agreeable surprise!" he exclaimed. "_Bene

veneritis!_ The soup of princes is not to thy taste, it appears,

inasmuch as thou comest back already." But Smeker caught at the chance

of another lawsuit at Spires which brought me twenty crowns.

His son and his son-in-law, who did their best to save the considerable

paternal fortune, hit upon the idea to credit the suzerain, Duke

Heindrich, with the intention of retiring the fiefs. Starting from that

gratuitous supposition, they pointed out to the old man that the

journeys to Spires became more and more difficult to him; that,

moreover, he incurred the risk of being dispossessed, and that, in such

a case, his son would have the greatest possible trouble to be

reinstated. What, on the other hand, could be more simple than the

averting of the blow by a pretended renunciation in favour of Mathias?

He, the father, would take up his quarters for some time in a house

close by, which he liked very much; he should always come and take his

meals with his sons, or merely eat and drink there when he liked; they

would give him a young, nice and bright peasant girl to take care of

him, for in spite of his age he refused to dispense with female

company. Heindrich Smeker, having been prevailed upon, signed an act

duly engrossed on vellum, which the principal county gentlemen of

Mecklenburg attested with their seals, and to which Duke Heindrich

promptly affixed his ratification.

When the old man's eyes opened to the deception it was too late. He was

furious, and accused his son of having enacted the traitor to him,

calling him all kind of names. Then he begged of me to bring the affair

before the Imperial Chamber, but I had an excellent excuse for

refusing, as I was only a notary. His robust constitution enabled him

to make another journey to Spires--on a cart-horse as usual. Having

been politely bowed out by Dr. Schwartzenberg, he simply wasted his

breath with the other procurators--all of whom knew him. Finally,

Schwartzenberg gave him the money to go home. Like a dutiful son,

Mathias loyally kept his promise and showed his father every attention

and consideration. He invited his father to his table or had his meals

taken to him. He sent him beer and wine, and there was always a capital

bed at his disposal when the fancy took him to lay at his former

domicile. It was the sweetest existence imaginable, but the

administration of his property was denied to him.

The worshipful council of Rostock having been cited before the Imperial

Chamber by the kindred of an individual named Von der Luehe, who had

been beheaded for highway robbery, the commissaries entrusted with the

case took me as their notary in the inquiry made at Rostock, and as

delegate notary in the inquiry set on foot by the plaintiffs. The

_attestationes_ and the _sententia definitiva_ conclusively proved my

assiduity in the matter; hence my honorarium amounted to four hundred

crowns, _plus_ a present in silver worth fifty crowns.

The counsellor Anthony Drache, a most pious gentleman, had only one

brother who was drowned and left no issue. Drache pretended to reduce

the widow's share, in accordance with the feudal laws of Pomerania; but

besides his fiefs or hereditary tenures of land, the deceased possessed

considerable property, the dividing of which was to be effected

according to the urban or local statutes. Duke Philip, of blessed

memory, having carried the affair into court, the trustee of the widow

confided the case to me. I worked it up very conscientiously, assisted

as I was by my particular studies, by the courses I had followed of

Joachim Moritz and other professors at Greifswald, and finally by my

private consultations with Moritz, who was good enough to give me his

directions _in specie_. I had a verdict on all counts, though Dr.

Gentzkow was on the other side, which, moreover, could count on the

sympathy of the judges and even of the prince. This success had the

effect of spreading my name throughout the land, and it prompted Dr.

Gentzkow to propose my appointment as secretary to the council of

Stralsund. My client gave me twenty crowns, a quantity of butter and a

flitch of bacon.

Chancellor Citzewitz took me with him to Stettin, and afterwards to

Stargardt to assist him in a personal lawsuit. There was no question of

honorarium, for we were both of opinion that his kindness to me

warranted such gratuitous service.

In 1553 the Owstin family had a lengthy lawsuit with reference to a

village which Citzewitz finally took away from them. In my capacity of

notary to the Owstins, I received forty crowns for my work. When

Valentin von Eichstadt, the new chancellor, married his daughter to an

Owstin, he bore his predecessor a grudge for his success in the matter.

Meanwhile, the grand marshal of the court of Wolgast, Ulrich Schwerin,

became involved in litigation with Dr. B. vom Walde; the latter and

Citzewitz took sides against Schwerin and Eichstadt, and each tried to

harm the other as much as possible. Duke Ernest Louis intervened. The

report of his displeasure was maliciously exaggerated. In a fit of

despair Citzewitz stabbed himself to death.

J. vom Kalen, at that time high bailiff of Ruegen (although he could

neither read nor write), had sentenced an individual for having caught

a small fish in the stream flowing past his garden. The angler appealed

against the sentence, probably at the instigation of expert people,

wishing to do the bailiff a good turn. The latter had entrusted the

affair to me, merely saying that when I got to Wolgast I should get to

know what it was "all about"; but when I presented myself and obtained

communication of the documents, I declined to move in the matter. I

nevertheless considered myself entitled to the three crowns I had

received as a deposit; besides, they were not claimed.

The city of Pasewalk had to stand the brunt of a man named Fuerstenberg,

who, because matters did not always proceed according to his wishes,

had renounced his citizenship. Not satisfied with that, he one night

nailed to the post before the city gates a placard threatening to set

fire to the place. He was almost as good as his word, for he set fire

to several barns outside the walls. He was arrested at Lebus, and

confined in the tower of the castle. The duke chose me to assist the

two counsellors entrusted with the prosecution by the authorities of

Pasewalk. The prisoner was put to the rack in our presence, judged the

next day, and beheaded by the sword. To our great surprise the council

allowed us to depart without offering the smallest present. On the

other hand, the duke sent to my home two measures of rye, worth at that

time about ten florins.

Holste, the governor of the convent of Puddegla, an eccentric and even

dangerous young man, came to Greifswald to entrust me with his law

affairs. He promised to remunerate me largely, and as an earnest gave

me ten crowns. Shortly afterwards he had a difference with the duke,

who had him confined to his quarters, but I succeeded in settling the

affair to the satisfaction of both. My client was short of money for

the time being, but the convent of Puddegla is situated on the banks of

a beautiful lake teeming with fish (as a rule monks are not in the

habit of choosing the worst spots). There was an abundance of enormous

cray-fish, of various kinds of perch, of breams an ell long, of fat

eels, of carp as black as soot and having only one eye, the fat and

flesh having closed the other; they were indeed fit for a king's table.

Holste filled my conveyance with victuals of that description, and I

was glad to cry quits with him for some time to come.

It was well I felt so disposed, for in a short time he got another

affair on his hands. At first he thought that the advice of his

maternal uncle George vom Kalen, and three captains from Ruegen would be

sufficient to settle matters, and as a matter of course he invited them

to his small property at Wusterhausen, where he filled them with food

and drink night and day. It was all in vain; their brain refused to

suggest a way out of the difficulty except that he should send for me,

which recommendation he followed. I drew up a humble petition to the

duke. As I intended to leave early the next morning, Holste gave me six

crowns, for the liquor that was in him already rendered him more

generous than usual and than there was any occasion, considering the

state of his revenues.

The gentlemen caroused till deep into the night, for long after I had

retired I was awakened by George vom Kalen steadying himself by

grasping my pillow. He came to propose to me to transact his law

business for the future. As I was by no means anxious for that

practice, I declined, though in most guarded terms. Notwithstanding

this refusal, my interlocutor drew three crowns from his wallet, and

slipped them into my purse, which he took from under my pillow. His two

companions follow his example, and present me each with two crowns. In

vain do I point out to them that I cannot accept what I have not

earned, and I take the seven coins from my purse to hand them back.

Thereupon George vom Kalen tells me plainly that if I persist in

refusing this money, he will flay me alive as I am lying there. Knowing

the people with whom I had to deal, I deemed it more prudent to listen

no longer to my scruples. The company resumed their drinking, and by

the time I was back at Greifswald with my thirteen crowns in my pocket,

they were probably still snoring stretched under the table.

A small farmer had got his step-daughter with child. When the truth

leaked out, the girl's mother moved heaven and earth to shield her

husband from the death penalty by flight. As for her daughter, her only

child, to fling her upon the world in that condition was exposing her

to disgrace, to starvation, and perhaps to everlasting punishment. At

the request of some friends, I personally went to Wolgast and presented

a petition to be handed immediately to the prince. After considerable

waiting, I saw him come out of his apartment. "Why does this woman

speak of her daughter and not of her husband?" he asked. "Because he

has taken flight," I answered; "besides, considering the heinousness of

the crime, she is afraid that to mention him will not avail much." "You

lawyers," retorted his Highness, "you have a way of presenting things,

of polishing and whitening the most atrocious and blackest horrors. It

really requires some experience to determine whether your petitions are

compatible either with law, equity, or religion. I am bound to remember

that God has entrusted me with the punishment of gross and impious

excesses. I shall not decide upon this case to-day, but think it over."

These are the words of a just, but nevertheless merciful prince, and

the petitioner had the proof of it.

Michael Hovisch, the son of poor peasants, had been brought up from his

earliest years in town, put to school, and then into a business

establishment. He succeeded in gaining the confidence of his employers,

who sent him to Sweden and Denmark. Gradually he began to operate on

his own account. Modest in behaviour, neat, and even elegant in

appearance, he could aspire to a good match. Meanwhile Captain Dechow

took it into his head to claim him for gratuitous and enforced

seignorial labour. An old ducal farm had to be rebuilt. In vain did

Hovisch offer a considerable sum instead. Dechow resolved to constrain

him by imprisonment. He was a relentless despot, who tried to make

himself conspicuous by oppressing the peasantry and, wherever it could

be done, also the urban populations. Hovisch was compelled to take

flight. At the request of some personages whom I was anxious to oblige,

and being moreover strongly interested in the young fellow himself, I

personally presented to Duke Philip a petition in which the vexatious

proceedings of the captain were set forth at length. I defy people to

guess the prince's reply. Here it is: "That my subjects load thee with

butter, eggs, cheese, poultry, geese, sheep and the rest, is all very

well, nay, perfect in its way," he said. "Take my word for it, though,"

he went on, "that I can manage to govern them rightly enough with the

assistance of my captain without your meddling." I told Citzewitz

plainly that if the oppressed were thus deprived of their right of

humble petition there was "no saying" how things would end. "Dechow,"

remarked Citzewitz, "is an arbitrary, hasty brute, but he has managed

to ingratiate himself with the duke. Fortunately, his Highness has been

warned. I'll recur to the subject when I get an opportunity; there must

be a change." Dechow left Wolgast for Lubeck, where the people soon got

tired of him. Michael Hovisch was never again heard of. It was the last

time I took it into my head to present a petition, and especially to

wait for its answer.

To sum up, in the space of two years, the occupation of procurator,

and, above all, of notary, brought me eleven hundred and four and

twenty crowns in hard cash.

_Magister_ J. Schoenefeld acted as notary in four cases before the

court presided over by Dr. von Walde. Duke Philip was the plaintiff. As

it happened, Schoenefeld was too old to proceed energetically; the

going from "pillar to post" frightened him; besides, people had become

more exacting. He therefore decided upon handing his documents over to

me, and they contained several interesting items. The prince, for

instance, summoned Lutke Maltzan to prove his right to the fiefs of

Sarow, Gantzkendorf, and Carin. Maltzan declined, pleading prescription

in virtue of thirty years' possession. The fiefs in question had

belonged to Jacob Voss, nephew and ward of Berendt Maltzan, surnamed

"the Bad." (Berckmann and other historians amply explain the reasons

for the sobriquet.) The uncle having advanced two hundred or three

hundred florins on the lands of his nephew, persuaded the latter to go

to the war with a couple or so of horses. He made sure of never

beholding him again. Jacob Voss, a model of honour and courage,

distinguished himself in many a campaign, and the esteem in which he

was held by all enabled him to borrow the necessary sum to redeem the

paternal property. He gave notice to Berendt Maltzan of his intention

to refund the money at the new year, and at the appointed time he

arrived at his uncle's--a fortified domicile, most appropriate to his

brigandage, rapine and exactions. For several days Maltzan loaded him

with kindness, they drank together, played cards and diced; in short,

honest Jacob Voss, instead of redeeming his lands, lost the borrowed

money.

His despair and his thirst for vengeance prompted him to extreme

measures, and with a servant expressly engaged for the purpose, he

several times set fire to his former possessions. Thereupon his uncle

enjoined his tenants to proceed to his nephew's capture. One Sunday

Voss and his companion having fallen asleep in the wood near

Gantzkendorf, which they intended to burn down that night, were

discovered by a little dog of some peasants gathering nuts; and not

later than the Monday following Berendt Maltzan had the son of his

sister "racked" alive. During the journey Jacob Voss apostrophized the

tenants at labour by their names. "Johannes, Peter, Nicholas," he

exclaimed, "can you understand this horrible and ignominious death for

claiming my own property?"

To come back to the suit of the prince against Maltzan. The judge sent

the document to the faculty of law at Leipzig, which asked an

honorarium of forty crowns. Its decision, the seal of which was broken

in the presence of the parties as represented by their counsel and read

there and then, concluded in favour of Maltzan, to the great vexation

of the ducal advisers, Chancellor Citzewitz severely reprimanding Dr.

von Walde for not having opened the reply in order to amend it. An

appeal was entered at the Imperial Chamber, and the case only ended

several years after my establishment at Stralsund. The parties paid me

more than one thousand crowns.

Towards 1542 a Dane said to Christopher von der Lanckin, of Ruegen, that

the willow bow-nets for the catching of fish in the Danish fashion

would be more profitable to him than two big houses he had at

Stralsund. In fact from the time two of those contrivances arrived,

Christopher, who had been very hampered in money matters, settled his

debts very quickly. Struck with the result, two notable burghers of

Stralsund, namely councillor Conrad Oseborn and Olof Lorbeer, the son

of the burgomaster, went into partnership with some of their kindred,

and promptly exploited the invention. The new nets, though, in

consequence of their size, obstructed the entrance to the streams; the

fish no longer passed, and it meant ruin to the inhabitants of the

interior. There were protests on all sides. Duke Philip wrote to

Stralsund; the council replied ironically that fish not being taken by

hand, everybody was free to ply for it as he liked. An inquiry was set

on foot, the prince prohibited the big bow-nets, and had those

belonging to Lorbeer seized. Thereupon the whole gang began to shout

that the liberties of the city were in peril, a galley was fitted out

to guard the nets, and finally, Stralsund resorted to law.

If, in taking the succession of Schoenefeld, I had suspected my

countrymen of being so unreasonable as they were in this instance, I

should certainly have declined the brief, albeit that my presence

counterbalanced the hostility of the inquiring magistrate. In his

examination C. von der Lanckin stated loyally that from his point of

view, the Danish bow-nets were excellent, inasmuch as they had enabled

him to pay his debts, but that on his faith and honour of a gentleman

the new contrivance would ruin the country. The deposition of the

fishermen was very clear: "Whosoever will rid us of those nets will no

longer need to go to church or to say Paters. We ask for nothing else

from heaven from morn till night."

In spite of everything, Stralsund persisted in its wrong. Finally, on

the opinion of counsel and the verdict of September 28, 1554, the duke

gained his cause, and the city was condemned in costs. On the spur of

the moment the council wanted to lodge an appeal, but it thought the

better of it. The suit had lasted twelve years, and had bred between

the two parties a feeling of misunderstanding which only vanished with

the death of the prince. As there had been two hundred and fifty

witnesses, the six hundred crowns I received in fees was, I take it,

not an excessive remuneration.

CHAPTER III

The Greifswald Council appoints me the City's Secretary--Delicate

Mission to Stralsund--Burgomaster Christopher Lorbeer and his

Sons--Journey to Bergen--I settle at Stralsund

The Greifswald magistrates, who had the opportunity of seeing me daily

at work, gradually arrived at the conclusion that I could not be

altogether devoid of merit, considering that highly placed personages

and even the prince himself entrusted me with important affairs.

Schoenefeld, being no longer up to the standard required, they offered

me his charge on the condition of my completely relinquishing my

practice as procurator. In consequence of this, on December 29, 1554, I

was appointed secretary to the city of Greifswald.

[Illustration: View of Stralsund. _From an old Print_.]

The first burgomaster of Stralsund, Christopher Lorbeer, had two sons,

who spent their time in the chase, in the taverns, and at the brilliant

receptions of the nobility and of the opulent burgher class. They took

it for granted that they might do anything they liked, and operated

with dogs and nets on Greifswald territory. It so happened, though,

that several young nobles and rich burghers of the latter town had

excellent packs of hounds, and were, in consequence, often invited by

the prince. As a matter of course, they objected to this poaching on

the part of the Lorbeers. One day the two parties came face to face,

and the attitude of the Greifswald people caused the others to face

about and to abandon their nets. As a balm to their wounded pride, the

Lorbeers, lying in ambush at the inn at Testenhagen, assailed pistol in

hand a carter from Greifswald, maltreated him, and finally carried off

his best horse. The Greifswald council wrote to Stralsund in the most

measured terms, as ought to be done among neighbours. The reply was

supercilious, and couched in most intemperate terms. I was, therefore,

instructed to draw up an appeal to the duke. The moment was

unquestionably exceedingly well chosen, considering the behaviour of

Stralsund in the matter of the bow-nets. And although the reports of

that lawsuit were as yet not published, I was familiar with them, and

had no difficulty in conceiving the irritation of the prince against

the Lorbeers. I nevertheless disadvised having recourse to his

intervention; I deemed it more prudent to go to Stralsund and discuss

the matter.

The moment I had presented my credentials the Stralsund council met in

solemn assembly. One of them received me most graciously, and

introduced me. Burgomaster Lorbeer's polite anxiety to make room for me

on the bench of the council showed to me his secret hope of seeing me

betray the interests of my clients, and of metaphorically falling at

his feet. After the usual civilities, I pointed out to the meeting the

seriousness of the case, going fully into the facts in a firm and

perhaps somewhat plain language, reminding them of the Imperial

"orders" with regard to the preservation of the public peace. Nor did I

scruple to represent, as a good neighbour ought to have done, the

danger of obstinacy, above all with a prince who was already more or

less displeased.

I could read the exoneration for this bold speech on many a

countenance, but Christopher Lorbeer and his staunch adherents, who

were not accustomed to hear the truth to their faces, turned colour;

their hitherto affable looks changed into scowls, and the burgomaster,

beside himself with anger, rose and said: "Thou art too eager to break

thy first lance. I beg to submit that this man be strictly watched."

"And clapped into gaol if necessary," I retorted. Thereupon Lorbeer

walked out, and I was dismissed without being reconducted as I had been

introduced. In a little while, word was sent that the affair requiring

further examination, the answer would be communicated later on. A

couple of hours afterwards Dr. Gentzkow, the syndic, sent for me to

come to the St. Nicholas' Church. "I am obliged to admit," he said,

"that your language was justified in law as in fact, but Master

Christopher has taken mortal offence at it, inasmuch as he is not

accustomed to have people adopt this tone with him, or to hear himself

and his sons taxed with disturbing the public peace. He can do you a

great deal of good or a great deal of harm. His influence, both in the

city and in the country, is immense. In short, if the council have

rightly interpreted your message, the Greifswald folk desire to

terminate this affair in a friendly manner; very well, let us appoint a

day at Reinberg to arrange matters as good neighbours should. I am

asking you for your best endeavours to bring this about."

The Stralsund people made their preparations for the day in question by

slaughtering a great many birds and game, by roasting and boiling the

same, and by broaching casks upon casks of beer and wine. Besides the

principal burghers of the city related to them by blood and in thorough

sympathy, the Lorbeers invited their friends from the neighbourhood,

and their young boon companions, who appeared armed with pistols,

arquebuses and spikes, so that the gathering looked more like a call to

arms than like a friendly meeting. Consequently, some of the

councillors and citizens of Stralsund secretly warned the people of

Greifswald to send no one to the spot, and my father was particularly

cautioned not to let me go, for that I should surely be killed. The

Greifswald magistrates remained coy, and did not reply a word to the

invitation; then, at the very hour of the invasion of Reinberg by the

Lorbeer band, they wrote that if the horse were returned to them in

three days they would return the nets sequestrated in just reprisal. If

this were not done, the prince would be requested to dispense justice.

At the news of Greifswald's abstention from the quasi-festivities the

Lorbeer camp broke into an avalanche of imprecations and threats. Wound

up with drink, they swore that they would murder everybody.

Nevertheless, before the three days had expired, a stable-man brought

back the horse, receiving in return the nets; and so there was an end

of that disagreement.

There was a time when "milord" burgomaster Christopher Lorbeer did

pretty well as he liked with everybody without meeting with any

resistance, and as a matter of course, his wife and children followed

suit. Odd to relate, my mission was coincident with the heyday of his

fortune, and it was really owing to a few simple words from my lips

that his star suddenly waned. He did not mind being treated as ungodly,

and as a soul likely to incur eternal punishment, and when I say this I

am speaking on the authority of his eldest son, but he objected to

being accused of endangering the public peace, or, in other words, to

forfeiting his honour; it is that which put him beside himself. His

annoyance at having failed in his contemplated revenge against

Greifswald and against me seriously undermined his health. A most

painful illness confined him to his bed for six months, during which no

one was allowed to see him. It seemed a terrible retribution which

profoundly moved both the city and the country. The burgomaster's

victims raised their voices, and the exactions by which he had hitherto

kept up his grand style of living were at an end. When his wife

attempted to revictual the establishment as of old, she met with

refusals. A grain dealer to whom she had sent her pigs to fatten

brought them back to her, pretending "hard times." She was beginning to

"ride the high horse" with him, but he pointed to the room of the

burgomaster, saying: "Don't forget that 'I command you' is lying

there." After a protracted agony, which practically reduced him to the

condition of a mere animal, Christopher Lorbeer died on October 16,

1555, and was buried in the choir of the St. Nicholas' Church, by the

side of my mother and my two sisters, and under the same flagstone

where my father subsequently lay. The council, greatly affected by his

death, let three weeks pass before naming a successor to the deceased;

after which the syndic, N. Gentzkow, and the first secretary, Anthony

Lickow, were solemnly and joyously elected to the dignity.

Though as yet my emoluments were not fixed, the Greifswald council had

already given me several proofs of its high confidence. At Stralsund,

on the other hand, I was the constant butt of the violent enmity of the

most notable citizens, who would have rent me to pieces if they had got

hold of me. Stralsund being thus closed to me, no place was more

suitable as a residence than Greifswald, where I was born and had many

of my kindred. But the owner of the house I rented made me very

uncomfortable with his mania for transforming the dwelling into a

storehouse for the most lumbering material, such as wood, stone,

mortar, sand, etc.; he also used the place for the weddings of his

servants, without the least regard for my wife, whether she was sick or

in childbed. All our objections were met with the same answer: "If you

do not like it you had better move." Hence, I finally made the

acquisition of a house in the Fischhandler Strasse (Fishmonger Street),

belonging to Johannes Velschow, the father-in-law of Brand Hartmann.

Its price was three hundred and fifty florins, payable in four

quarterly instalments. Brand Hartmann was the son of that George

Hartmann with whom my father had had such grave differences. He felt

very wroth at seeing the house his father had built for his use pass

into my possession, but the sale was effected in due legal form. I had

given the deposit (God's pfenning) and put down the first hundred

florins in the presence of several councillors and notable burghers.

Masons and carpenters were set to work at once. The front door had to

be widened, the heavy roof to be strengthened, the rooms, stables,

cellar and yard to be overhauled. My father had had a great deal of

building done in his days and gained much experience. He came to

superintend matters. Now and again he somewhat bullied the workmen, and

even dismissed them, replacing them by others. Looking back on all

this, I cannot help wondering at my audacity, for my purse was

practically empty, and the workmen had to be paid on Saturdays. With

God's help my practice provided the necessary money every week. My

profession took me away from home a great deal; hence, there was some

delay in the building operations, but for every florin I lost in that

way, I earned ten and more elsewhere.

On September 25, 1555, Duke Philip, with a numerous suite stopped at

Stralsund for the night and was entertained by the council. He was

going to Bergen, in the island of Ruegen, where he stayed until October

11, and at his return he lay once more at Stralsund, equally at the

expense of the city. The aim of the journey was to check the

encroachments of the Jasmund nobility, which, not content with cutting

down the forest of Stubenitz for its own benefit, conceded the same

rights to others--for a consideration. The prince took me with him as

secretary. The aristocracy having proposed a friendly settlement, there

was much parleying, during which the duke was at a loss to kill time.

He was lodged in the apartments of the prior at the monastery of

Bergen, and which looked out upon the courtyard, and spent hours in

watching from his windows the pages and valets and their constant

bickerings, quarrels and fights. He could even hear their opinions of

him. One day, when standing in his usual coign of vantage while four

Polish violins performed several pieces of music in the room itself, he

heard a valet below saying to his fellow, "The people of Stralsund have

much better musicians than their prince. What he has got is simply

ridiculous. Duke Bogislaw keeps four trumpeters and a kettledrum

player; they, at any rate, produce some effect. But this prince up

there, with his caterwauling things, is absurd." The duke sent Prior

Gottschalck to ascertain who was talking in that strain, but

Gottschalck, having noticed a relative of his in the group, made them a

sign to be off, and went upstairs, saying that they had been too quick

for him, and that he had failed to recognize any one. The prince

promptly repeated to his familiars word for word what he had heard on

the art of keeping up his rank, and long afterwards he was fond of

reminding them of the incident.

Another anecdote: A lot of boys were noisily playing in the courtyard,

and one of the most turbulent was the illegitimate son of the bailiff

(his real father having sent him to school, though he bore the name of

his putative parent, Arndts, the tailor of Bergen). His Highness having

given order to drive the yelling beggars away and to box their ears if

necessary, the footmen executed his orders to the letter, right and

left. The prince noticed, though, that they spared Arndts, and he

shouted that he more than any of the others deserved correction, but

the servant to whom the recommendation was addressed simply smiled and

shrugged his shoulders. "Do you hear me?" cried the duke; "rub it into

the little devil." "Oh, no," replied the flunkey. "Oh, yes, lay it on

thickly." "Nay, nay; heaven preserve me from doing such a thing." "And

why, what's to prevent you?" "What? to trounce the son of a bailiff! I

should repent it afterwards." At these words the duke burst out

laughing. He told the story to every one, even in the bailiff's

presence. On one occasion the boy was sent for and placed by the side

of his father. His eyes, his nose, his head and his legs were compared

with those of his sire. The governor of Cammin, after having made the

lad march up and down the room, said to the bailiff, "That's your son,

right enough; he is shaped like you."

The attempt at conciliation having failed, the parties met at the

monastery in a large room provided with chairs, seats and two tables,

one for his Highness, the other for the _pares curiae_. I took place at

the latter in my capacity of _notarius judicii_. The chancellor, in his

master's name, gave a summary of the facts, after which, the prince,

rising from his seat, came to the second table, and there, facing me,

he made a long speech, not at all badly composed. I only give its

conclusion: "In your presence, Master Notary, I maintain having been

animated by most friendly intentions towards my subjects, but they

rejected all attempts at settling matters. In consequence of this, and

as a guarantee of my rights, I command you to state everything that has

happened, including the present declaration, and to draw up a duly

attested act which you shall remit to me in consideration of your

lawful remuneration." The matter did not go farther that day, but the

duke instructed me to pursue the inquiry jointly with the Governor of

Cammin, which took us several days.

The "instrument" gave me a great deal of trouble, filling, as it did,

seven of the largest skins of parchment, constituting fourteen sheets.

It contained more matter than a quire of paper. There was no room to

affix my signature and the _signum notariatus_ at the end of the deed,

according to custom, so I made an impression in wax of my seal engraved

on lead, and suspended it from the string holding the sheets together.

His Highness, without asking, gave me a fee of thirty crowns.

_Magister_ Joachim Moritz, _professor juris_ at Greifswald and ducal

counsellor, had never been to Stralsund, and knew nobody there. At my

return from Bergen he asked me to "put him up" at my father's, which I

was very glad to do. Having risen early to see the city, he went

shortly after seven into St. Nicholas' to hear the sermon. Zabel

Lorbeer, who caught sight of him, mistook him for his former boon

companion, George Steinkeller. The likeness between these two seems to

have been so striking as to have deceived people generally. Many a

gentleman upon beholding Moritz on the bench at Wolgast, said to his

neighbour, "And where the devil did Steinkeller get his knowledge of

the law from, to constitute him a judge?" Lorbeer, then, coming from

behind, takes Moritz by the ears and shakes him for full a minute, the

professor, altogether nonplussed, asking himself all the while who it

could be giving him such an energetic welcome. He made sure it was me.

Finally, he managed to turn round, and Lorbeer, perceiving his mistake,

was most profuse with apologies. Moritz was fond of relating the

adventure, especially in the hearing of the Stralsunders, and no one

enjoyed the story more than the duke.

The Stralsund council took the opportunity of my visit (which happened

during the very week of Burgomaster Lorbeer's funeral), to offer me the

position of secretary. My surprise may easily be imagined. I considered

myself so compromised in the eyes of the Stralsunders that, without the

company of the governor of Cammin and the commission I held of the

prince, I should not have deemed myself safe in the city. Those

overtures, though, caused me as much pleasure as they did to my

kindred; nevertheless, I felt bound not to give a definite answer until

I was relieved of my engagement at Greifswald, although I had not taken

the oath. Being anxious to hasten my return, the Stralsund council sent

me a messenger to Greifswald with a saddle-horse.

I pointed out to my friends and to the magistrates at Greifswald that,

although I had to a certain extent begun my functions, there had as yet

been no positive agreement; not a syllable had been uttered, for

instance, about salary. Why then should I decline the important

Stralsund appointment? My uncle and godfather, Burgomaster Bertram

Smiterlow, summoned the council to the chancellerie, and a fixed salary

of eighty florins was allotted to me. Never had a secretary been so

well paid. I asked to let the matter stand over till the next morning,

so that I might consult with my family. My wife's relatives implored me

to accept; my father-in-law, a centenarian, promised me, with tears in

his eyes, a hundred florins if I stayed. At the instance of all these,

I declared myself ready to receive the luck-penny (the earnest-money)

commensurate with the dignity of the office and of the council, it

being, furthermore, understood that I should be allowed to remain at

the chancellerie and not be elected to the council. The _camerarii_

counted me out eight crowns as earnest-money, and my predecessor,

Johannes Schoenefeld, sent me word to engross my own act of

appointment. More than one precedent justified me in expecting about a

year's salary as earnest-money, but after some hesitation I took the

eight crowns.

My father-in-law was anxiously waiting for the result of the interview.

I flung the money on the table. "Just look, father," I exclaimed, "did

I not sell myself at my worth? You had better get your hundred florins

ready." But he had apparently recovered from his first depression, and

seemed not at all touched by my obvious sacrifice, for he said

tetchily, "If it suits you to go, very well, go; but you'll not have

one florin as far as I am concerned." I felt hurt, although I fully

intended to refuse the hundred florins, lest my brother-in-law should

look askance at me.

I put the Stralsund horse up in Burgomaster Smiterlow's stable, my own

not being ready. My first impulse was to send it back the same day.

Then I began to reflect that it would be better to draw up my "act of

appointment"; after that, the letter to the Stralsund council would not

take long. In drawing up the act, I could, however, not help noticing

that neither the period nor the place of payment was stated, and next

morning I went to ask Schoenefeld about all this. He told me that I

should receive two florins one day from this person, and half a florin

the next from another, so that at the end of the year the eighty

florins would be complete. I certainly did congratulate myself for

having kept a back door open, for the misunderstanding was very

serious, casual instalments and fixed appointments being by no means

the same thing. After leaving Schoenefeld, I ran against Burgomaster

Smiterlow and the _camerarii_ in the market-place, and told them that

if Schoenefeld's version was true, I preferred returning the wretched

earnest-money. "Your conduct will surprise them," they replied. "To

summon the council at such a short notice is no more possible than to

take back the earnest-money without its leave." I, on the other hand,

maintained that it was yet time to arrange affairs. "Should I be

deserving of the magistrates' confidence if I were so incapable of

conducting my own affairs? I am going to the burgomaster at once to

deposit the earnest-money on his daughter's table. She'll know right

enough to whom to hand it. After which I shall get into the saddle and

take the road to Stralsund." Thereupon the council was summoned.

I went to tell my wife, her brother, and my sister whom he had married.

My wife, not satisfied with shedding tears, declared categorically that

she should not leave Greifswald. She would take a room somewhere and

earn her living knitting. My sister and her husband were also much

excited. "What shall you do with your nice house?" said my sister. "Why

vex our parents? Stop here out of consideration for them; here where

there are so many opportunities of being useful to them." An old aunt,

a sensible, upright and honest matron whom my wife had called to her

aid was the only one to express a contrary opinion. "Dear nephew," she

said, "though I should be too pleased to keep you near me, for after

God you are the prop of my old age, I'm bound to admit that there is no

comparison between the post of Greifswald and that of Stralsund. If I

placed an obstacle to your stroke of good fortune, my conscience would

reproach me afterwards, so take my advice and carry out your plan. Do

you remember how your wife mourned her mother? Does she still cry at

the mention of her name? Well, she'll get just as used to living at

Stralsund." My wife's tears flowed all the faster at these words.

The messenger from Stralsund went to saddle my horse. Booted and

spurred I joined him almost immediately, and had the animal brought

round to Burgomaster Smiterlow's door where, somewhat impatiently, I

awaited on the steps his return from the Town Hall. He told me that no

secretary in the past had received the appointments allotted to me, and

that no secretary in the future was likely to receive them, and yet I

had still found better; hence the council felt most reluctant to hamper

my career and sent their best wishes for my welfare. I immediately got

into the saddle and left the town, avoiding our house, on the threshold

of which I could see my wife standing surrounded by her kindred. It was

on November 29, 1555. My residence at Greifswald dated from January 1,

1551. During that period my earnings amounted to five thousand three

hundred florins, exclusive of presents in kind, which often exceeded

the strictly necessary. Here ends the third part of the story of my

life.

THE END

INDEX

Aarschot, 273

Acquapendente, xx. 5, 151, 171

Aepinus, Johannes, 39, 249

Affenstein, Ritter Wolf von, 246

Agricola, Johannes, 246

Aix-la-Chapelle, 19, 254, 255

Albrecht, Duke of Mecklenburg, 63, 64, 72, 80, 107, 231

Alexander III., 96

Algau, 192, 221

Alpinus, Johannes, 12

Alsace, 223

Alsen, Island of, 63

Altenkirchen, 40

Altenkuke, Heinrich, 187

Altingk, Johannes, 45, 46

Werner, 45