longer came in to me and sent the servant up of an evening, I begged
the woman to tell him that I was ill, and that I wished a doctor to
come to me. The woman told him this (for by this time he understood
Danish, and the woman understood a little German), and when she said,
'I am afraid she will die,' he answered, 'Why the d---- let her die!'
I had daily fevers, heat, but no shivering; and as an obstruction was
the chief cause of my illness, I desired a remedy. The prison
governor ridiculed the idea. When I heard this, I requested he would
come to me, which he did. I spoke to him rather seriously; told him
that it was not the King's will that he should take no more care of
me than he did, that he had more care for his dog than for me (which
was the case). Upon this his manner improved, and he enquired what I
wished for, and I said what I desired, and obtained it. I had become
rather excited at the conversation, so that I felt weak. The woman
cried and said: 'I am afraid you will die, dear lady! and then the
bad maids from the wash-house will wash your feet and hands.' (One of
the maids below had sent very uncivil messages to me.) I replied that
I should not say a word against that. 'What?' said she angrily, 'will
you suffer that? No,' she added with an asseveration, 'I would not! I
would not suffer it if I were in your place.' So I said, like that
philosopher, 'Place the stick with the candlestick at my side, and
with that I can keep them away from me when I am dead.'[110] This
brought her to reason again, and she talked of the grave and of
burial. I assured her that this did not trouble me at all; that when
I was dead, it was all one to me; even if they threw my body in the
sea, it would, together with my soul, appear before the throne of God
at the last day, and might come off better perhaps than many who were
lying in coffins mounted with silver and in splendid vaults. But that
I would not say, as the prison governor did in his levity, that I
should like to be buried on the hill of Valdby, in order to be able
to look around me. I desired nothing else than a happy end. We spoke
of the prison governor's coarseness; of various things which he did,
on account of which it would go badly with him if the Queen knew it;
of his godlessness, how that when he had been to the Lord's Supper,
he said he had passed muster; and other things. There was no fear of
God in him.
[109] In the margin of the MS. is added: 'When this Karen came to
me she left me no peace till I allowed her to clean the floor; for
I feared that which happened, namely that the smell would cause
sickness. In one place there was an accumulation of dirt a couple
of feet thick. When she had loosened it, it had to remain till the
door was opened. I went to bed, threw the bed-clothes over my head,
and held my nose.'[E38]
[E38] 'Anno 1666, soon after Karen, Nil's daughter, came to me, we
first discovered that there was a stone floor to my prison chamber,
as she broke loose a piece of rubbish cemented together, and the
stones were apparent. I had before thought it a loam floor. The
former Karen, Ole's daughter, was one of those who spread the dirt
but do not take it away. This Karen tormented me unceasingly,
almost daily, that we must remove it everywhere, and that at
once--it would soon be done. I was of opinion that it would make us
ill if it was done all at once, as we required water to soften it,
and the stench in this oppressive hole would cause sickness, but
that it would be easier and less uncomfortable to remove one piece
after another. She adhered to her opinion and to her desire, and
thought that she could persuade the prison governor and the
tower-warder to let the door remain open till all had been made
clean. But when the tower-warder had brought in a tub of water, he
locked the door. I went to bed and covered my face closely, while
she scraped and swept up the dirt. The quantity of filth was
incredible. It had been collecting for years, for this had been a
malefactors' prison, and the floor had never been cleaned. She laid
all the dirt in a heap in the corner, and there was as much as a
cartload. It was left there until evening at supper-time, when the
doors were opened. It was as I feared: we were both ill. The woman
recovered first, for she could get out into the air, but I remained
in the oppressive hole, where there was scarcely light. We gained
this from it, that we were tormented day and night with numbers of
fleas, and they came to her more than to me, so much so that she
was often on the point of weeping. I laughed and made fun of it,
saying that she would now have always something to do, and would
have enough to beguile the time. We could not, however, work. The
fleas were thick on our stockings, so that the colour of the
stockings was not to be perceived, and we wiped them off into the
water-basin. I then discovered that one flea produces another. For
when I examined them, and how they could swim, I perceived that
some small feet appeared behind the flea, and I thought it was a
peculiar kind. At last I saw what it was, and I took the flea from
which the small one was emerging on my finger, and it left behind
evidences of birth: it hopped immediately, but the mother remained
a little, until she recovered herself, and the first time she could
not hop so far. This amusement I had more than once, till the fleas
came to an end. Whether all fleas are born in this manner I cannot
tell, but that they are produced from dirt and loam I have seen in
my prison, and I have observed how they become gradually perfect
and of the peculiar colour of the material from which they have
been generated. I have seen them pair.'
It is scarcely necessary to say that, as far as natural history is
concerned, Leonora has committed a mistake.
[110] In the margin is added: 'On the stick there was a tin
candlestick, which was occasionally placed at the side of my bed. I
used it for fixing my knitting.'[E39]
[E39] Leonora alludes to an anecdote told by 'Cicero in Tuscul.
Quaest. lib. i. c. 43.' He recounts that the cynic Diogenes had
ordered that his body should not be buried after his death but left
uninterred. His friends asked, 'As a prey to birds and wild
beasts?' 'Not at all,' answered Diogenes; place a stick by me,
wherewith I may drive them away.' 'But how can you?' rejoined
these; 'you won't know!' 'But what then,' was his reply, 'concern
the attacks of the wild beasts me, when I don't feel them?'
I requested to have the sacrament, and asked M. Buck to come to me at
seven o'clock in the morning, for at about half-past eight o'clock
the fever began. The priest did not come till half-past nine, when
the fever heat had set in (for it began now somewhat later). When I
had made my confession, he began to preach about murder and homicide;
about David, who was guilty of Uriah's death, although he had not
killed him with his own hand. He spoke of sin as behoved him, and of
the punishment it brings with it. 'You,' he said, 'have killed
General Fux, for you have bribed a servant to kill him.' I replied,
'That is not true! I have not done so!' 'Yes, truly,' he said; 'the
servant is in Hamburg, and he says it himself.' I replied: 'If he has
so said, he has lied, for my son gave Fux his death-blow with a
stiletto. I did not know that Fux was in Bruges until I heard of his
death. How could the servant, then, say that I had done it? It was
not done by my order, but that I should not have rejoiced that God
should have punished the villain I am free to confess.' To this he
answered, 'I should have done so myself.' I said: 'God knows how Fux
treated us in our imprisonment at Borringholm. That is now past, and
I think of it no more.' 'There you are right,' he said, as he
proceeded in his office. When all was over, he spoke with the prison
governor outside the door of my anteroom, just in front of the door
of the Dark Church, and said that I made myself ill; that I was not
ill; that my face was red from pure anger; that he had spoken the
truth to me, and that I had been angry in consequence. Christian was
standing inside the door of the Dark Church, for at this time there
were no prisoners there, and he heard the conversation, and related
it to me when I began to get up again and spoke with him at the
door.
Some time afterwards Christian said to me, quite secretly, 'If you
like, I will convey a message from you to your children in Skaane.' I
enquired how this could be done. He said: 'Through my girl; she is
thoroughly true; she shall go on purpose.' He knew that I had some
ducats left, for Peder the coachman had confided it to him, as he
himself told me. I accepted his offer and wrote to my children, and
gave him a ducat for the girl's journey.[111] She executed the
commission well, and came back with a letter from them and from my
sister.[E40] The woman knew nothing of all this.
[111] In the margin: 'The girl was a prostitute to whom he had
promised marriage, and the tower-warder--both the former one and
Chresten--let her in to Christian, went out himself, and left them
alone.'
[E40] This sister was Hedvig, who married Ebbe Ulfeldt, a relative
of Corfitz Ulfeldt. He was obliged to leave Denmark in 1651, on
account of irregularities in the conduct of his office, and went to
Sweden, where he became a major-general in the army. He is the
person alluded to in the Autobiography. Several of Leonora's
children lived in Sweden with their relatives after the death of
Corfitz Ulfeldt; but in 1668 the Danish Government obtained that
they were forbidden the country.
By degrees Christian began to be insolent in various ways. When he
came with his boy's pouch, in which the woman was to give him food,
he would throw it at her, and he was angry if meat was not kept for
himself for the evening; and when he could not at once get the pouch
back again, he would curse the day when he had come to my door and
had spoken with me or had communicated anything to me. She was sad,
but she said nothing to me. This lasted only for a day, and then he
knocked again at the door and spoke as usual of what news he had
heard. The woman was sitting on the bed, crossing herself fifteen
times (he could not see her, nor could he see me). When he was gone,
she related how fearfully he had been swearing, &c. I said: 'You must
not regard this; in the time of the other Karen he has done as much.'
His courage daily increased. The dishes were often brought up
half-an-hour before the prison-governor came. In the meanwhile
Christian cut the meat, and took himself the piece he preferred
(formerly at every meal I had sent him out a piece of fish, or
anything else he desired). The stupid prison governor allowed it to
go on; he was glad, I imagine, that he was spared the trouble, and
paid no attention to the fact that there was anything missing in the
dish. I let it go on for a time, for it did not happen regularly
every day. But when he wanted food for his boy, he would say nothing
but 'Some food in my boy's pouch!' We often laughed over this
afterwards, when he was away, but not at the time, for it grew worse
from day to day. He could not endure that we should laugh and be
merry; if he heard anything of the kind outside, he was angry. But if
one spoke despondingly, he would procure what was in his power.[112]
One day he listened, and heard that we were laughing; for the woman
was just relating an amusing story of the mother of a schoolboy in
Frederichsborg (she had lived there); how the mother of the boy did
not know how to address the schoolmaster, and called him Herr
Willas.[E41] He said, 'I am no Herr.' 'Then Master,' said the woman.
'I am no Master either,' he said; 'I am plain Willas.' Then the woman
said: 'My good plain Willas! My son always licks the cream from my
milk-pans when he comes home. Will you lick him in return, and that
with a switch on his back?' While we were laughing at this, he came
to the door and heard the words I was saying: 'I don't suppose that
it really so happened; one must always add something to make a good
story of it.' He imagined we were speaking of him, and that we were
laughing at him. At meal-time he said to the woman, 'You were very
merry to-day.' She said, 'Did you not know why? It is because I
belong to the "Laetter"'[E42] (that was her family name). 'It would be
a good thing,' he said, 'to put a stop to your laughter altogether;
you have been laughing at me.' She protested that we had not, that
his name had not been mentioned (which was the case); but he would
not regard it. They fell into an altercation. She told me of the
conversation, and for some days he did not come to the door, and I
sent him nothing; for just at that time a poor old man was my
neighbour, and I sent him a drink of wine. Christian came again to
the door and knocked. He complained very softly of the woman; begged
that I would reprove her for what she had said to him, as he had
heard his name mentioned. I protested to him that at the time we were
not even thinking of him, and that I could not scold her for the
words we had spoken together. I wished to have repose within our
closed door. 'Yes,' he answered; 'household peace is good, as the old
woman said.' With this he went away.
[112] In the margin: 'In the time of his good humour he had
procured me, for money and candles, all that I desired, so that I
had both knife and scissors, besides silk, thread, and various
things to beguile the time. This vexed him afterwards.'
[E41] The title 'Herr' was then only given to noblemen and clergy.
Master means 'magister,' and was an academical title.
[E42] The original has here an untranslatable play upon words.
_Leth_ is a family name; and the woman says 'I am one of the Letter
(the Leths),' but laughter is in Danish 'Latter.'
Afterwards he caused us all sorts of annoyance, and was again
pacified. Then he wished again that I should write to Skaane.[113] I
said I was satisfied to know that some of my children were with my
sister; where my sons were, and how it fared with them, I did not
know: I left them in God's care. This did not satisfy him, and he
spoke as if he thought I had no more money; but he did not at that
time exactly say so. But one day, when he had one of his mad fits, he
came to the door and had a can with wine (which I gave him at almost
every meal) in his hand, and he said: 'Can you see me?' (for there
was a cleft in the outermost door, but at such a distance one could
not clearly see through). 'Here I am with my cup of wine, and I am
going to drink your health for the last time.' I asked: 'Why for the
last time?' 'Yes,' he swore, coming nearer to the door and saying: 'I
will do no more service for you; so I know well that I shall get no
more wine.' I said, 'I thank you for the services you have rendered
me; I desire no more from you, but nevertheless you may still get
your wine.' 'No!' he said; 'no more service! there is nothing more to
be fetched.' 'That is true,' I answered. 'You do not know me,' said
he; 'I am not what you think; it is easy to start with me, but it is
not easy to get rid of me.' I laughed a little, and said: 'You are
far better than you make yourself out to be. To-morrow you will be of
another mind.'
[113] In the margin: 'Immediately after the girl had been in
Skaane, he gave her a box full of pieces of wax, on which were the
impressions of all the tower keys; and amongst them was written,
"My girl will have these made in Skaane." I had this from the
woman, who was just then carrying up the night-stool, and on the
following Saturday I gave the box back with many thanks, saying I
did not care to escape from the tower in this way. This did not
please him, as I well saw.'
He continued to describe himself as very wicked (it was, however, far
from as bad as he really is). I could do nothing else but laugh at
him. He drank from the can, and sat himself down on the stool
outside. I called him and begged him to come to the door, as I wanted
to speak with him. There he sat like a fool, saying to himself:
'Should I go to the door? No,' and he swore with a terrible oath,
'that I will not do! Oh yes, to the door! No, Christian, no!'
laughing from time to time immoderately, and shouting out that the
devil might take him and tear him in pieces the day on which he
should go to my door or render me a service. I went away from the
door and sat down horrified at the man's madness and audacity. Some
days passed in silence, and he would accept no wine. No food was
offered to him, for he continued, in the same way as before, to cut
the meat before the prison governor came up. As the prison governor
at this time occasionally again came in to me and talked with me, I
requested him that Christian, as a prisoner, should not have the
liberty of messing my food. This was, therefore, forbidden him in
future.
Some days afterwards he threw the pouch to the woman on the stairs,
and said: 'Give me some food for to-night in my lad's pouch.'[114]
This was complied with with the utmost obedience, and a piece of meat
was placed in the pouch. This somewhat appeased him, so that at noon
he spoke with the woman, and even asked for a drink of wine; but he
threatened the woman that he would put an end to the laughing. I did
not fear the evil he could do to me, but this vexatious life was
wearisome. I allowed no wine to be offered to him, unless he asked
for some. He was in the habit every week of procuring me the
newspapers[E43] for candles, and as he did not bring me the
newspapers for the candles of the first week, I sent him no more. He
continued to come every Saturday with the perfuming-pan, and to lock
my door. When he came in with the fumigating stuff, he fixed his eyes
upon the wall, and would not look at me. I spoke to him once and
asked after the doctor, and he made no reply.
[114] In the margin is added: 'At this time there was a peasant
imprisoned in the Dark Church for having answered the bailiff of
the manor with bad language. I sent him food. He was a great rogue.
I know not whether he were incited by others, but he told Karen
that if I would write to my children, he would take care of the
letter. I sent him word that I thanked him; I had nothing to say to
them and nothing to write with. The rogue answered, "Ah so! Ah
so!"'
[E43] The newspapers in question were probably German papers which
were published in Copenhagen at that time weekly, or even twice a
week; the Danish _Mercurius_ (a common title for newspapers) was a
monthly publication.
Thus it went on for some weeks; then he became appeased, and brought
the woman the papers from the time that he had withheld them, all
rolled up together and fastened with a thread. When the prison
governor came in during the evening and sat and talked (he was
slightly intoxicated), and Chresten had gone to the cellar, the woman
gave him back the papers, thanking him in my name, and saying that
the papers were of no interest to me; I had done without them for so
many weeks, and could continue to do so. He was so angry that he tore
the papers in two with his teeth, tore open his coat so that the
buttons fell on the floor, threw some of the papers into the fire,
howled, screamed, and gnashed with his teeth. I tried to find
something over which I could laugh with the prison governor, and I
spoke as loud as I could, in order to drown Christian's voice.[115]
The woman came in as pale as a corpse, and looked at me. I signed to
her that she should go out again. Then Christian came close to my
door and howled, throwing his slippers up into the air, and then
against my door, repeating this frequently. When he heard Chresten
coming up with the cups, he threw himself on the seat on which the
prison governor was accustomed to lie, and again struck his slippers
against the wall. Chresten gazed at him with astonishment, as he
stood with the cups in his hand. He saw well that there was something
amiss between the woman and Christian, and that the woman was afraid;
he could not, however, guess the cause, nor could he find it out; he
thought, moreover, that it had nothing to do with me, since I was
laughing and talking with the prison governor. When the doors were
closed, the lamentations found free vent. The woman said that he had
threatened her; he would forbid her daughter coming on the stairs and
carrying on her talk, and doing other things that she ought not. I
begged her to be calm; told her he was now in one of his mad fits,
but that it would pass away; that he would hesitate before he said
anything of it, for that he would be afraid that what he had brought
up to her would also come to light, and then he would himself get
into misfortune for his trouble; that the prison governor had given
her daughter leave to come to her, and to whom therefore should he
complain? (I thought indeed in my own mind that if he adhered to his
threat, he would probably find some one else to whom he could
complain, as he had so much liberty; he could bring in and out what
he chose, and could speak with whom he desired in the watchman's
gallery.) She wept, was very much affected, and talked with but
little sense, and said: 'If I have no peace for him, I will--yes, I
will--.' She got no further, and could not get out what she would do.
I smiled, and said at last: 'Christian is mad. I will put a stop to
it to-morrow: let me deal with him! Sleep now quietly!'
[115] In the margin: 'It was wonderful that the governor did not
hear the noise which Christian made. He was telling me, I remember,
at the time, how he had frightened one of the court servants with a
mouse in a box.'
She fell asleep afterwards, but I did not do so very quickly,
thinking what might follow such wild fits. Next day towards noon I
told her what she was to say to Christian; she was to behave as if
she were dissatisfied, and begin to upbraid him and to say, 'The
devil take you for all you have taught her! She has pulled off her
slippers just as you do, and strikes me on the head with them. She is
angry and no joke, and she took all the pretty stuff she had finished
and threw it into the night-stool. "There," said she, "no one shall
have any advantage of that."' At this he laughed like a fool, for it
pleased him. 'Is she thoroughly angry?' he asked. 'Yes,' she replied;
'she is indeed.' At this he laughed aloud on the stairs, so that I
heard it. For a fortnight he behaved tolerably well, now and then
demanding wine and food; and he came moreover to the door and
related, among other things, how he had heard that the prince (now
our king) was going to be married. I had also heard it, though I did
not say so, for the prison governor had told me of it, and besides I
received the papers without him. And as I asked him no questions, he
went away immediately, saying afterwards to the woman, 'She is angry
and so am I. We will see who first will want the other.' He
threatened the woman very much. She wished that I would give him fair
words. I told her that he was not of that character that one could
get on with him by always showing the friendly side.[116] As he by
degrees became more insolent than could be tolerated, I said one day
to the prison governor that I was surprised that he could allow a
prisoner to unlock and lock my doors, and to do that which was really
the office of the tower-warder; and I asked him whether it did not
occur to him that under such circumstances I might manage to get out,
if I chose to do so without the King's will? Christian was a
prisoner, under sentence of death; he had already offered to get me
out of the tower. The prison governor sat and stared like one who
does not rightly understand, and he made no reply but 'Yes, yes!' but
he acted in conformity with my warning, so that either he himself
locked and unlocked, or Chresten did so. (I have seen Christian
snatching the keys out of Chresten's hand and locking my door, and
this at the time when he began to make himself so angry.)
[116] In the margin is added: 'He enticed the prison governor to
throw a kitten that I had down from the top of the tower, and he
laughed at me ironically as he told the woman of his manly act, and
said, "The cat was mangy! the cat was mangy!" I would not let him
see that it annoyed me.'
If Christian had not been furious before, he became so now,
especially at the time that Chresten came in with the perfuming-pan
when the woman was above. He would then stand straight before me in
the anteroom, looking at me like a ghost and gnashing his teeth; and
when he saw that I took the rest of the fumigating stuff from
Chresten's hand (which he had always himself given me in paper), he
burst into a defiant laugh. When the doors were unlocked in the
evening, and Christian began talking with the woman, he said: 'Karen,
tell her ladyship that I will make out a devilish story with you
both. I have with my own eyes seen Chresten giving her a letter. Ay,
that was why she did not let me go in with the perfuming-pan, because
I would not undertake her message to Skaane. Ay, does she get the
newspapers also from him? Yes, tell her, great as are the services I
have rendered her, I will now prepare a great misfortune for her.'
God knows what a night I had! Not because I feared his threat, for I
did not in the least regard his words; he himself would have suffered
the most by far. But the woman was so sad that she did nothing but
lament and moan, chiefly about her daughter, on account of the
disgrace it would be to her if they put her mother into the Dark
Church, nay even took her life. Then she remembered that her daughter
had spoken with her on the stairs, and she cried out again: 'Oh my
daughter! my daughter! She will get into the house of correction!'
For some time I said nothing more than 'Calm yourself; it will not be
as bad as you think,' as I perceived that she was not capable of
listening to reason, for she at once exclaimed 'Ach! ach!' as often
as I tried to speak, sitting up in bed and holding her head between
her two hands and crying till she was almost deluged. I thought,
'When there are no more tears to come, she will probably stop.'