MASTER THOMAS BECOMES A TRAVELLING SCHOLAR.
[Illustration: "The urchin has robbed me of a goose."]
As they would not any longer allow me to tend the goats, I entered the
service of a farmer who had one of my aunts to wife, and was a fiery
passionate man. I had to keep his cows; for at most places in St. Gall
they have not shepherds in common, to mind the cows for all; but
whoever has a mountain whither he can send them during the summer, has
a little shepherd who watches them upon his own property. When I had
been with them a while my aunt Frances came, who wished to send me to
my uncle, Mr. Anthony Platter, that I should learn _the writings_ (such
was their phrase when they wished to send any one to school). That
gentleman was at that time no longer in Grenchen, but was become an old
man at St. Nicholas, in the village that is called Gasse. When my
farmer, whose name was the "Antsche," or "Anthony an der Habzucht," was
aware of my aunt's intention, he was much dissatisfied: and said, "That
I would learn nothing notwithstanding;" and added, putting the
forefinger of his right hand into the palm of the left, "the urchin
will learn just as much as I can drive my finger through." That I saw
and heard myself. My aunt answered, "Oh! who knows? God has not refused
him his gifts: he may yet become a pious priest." And so she led me to
the spiritual gentleman, when I was about nine and a half years old.
Then it was that my sufferings really began, for the gentleman was a
very passionate man, but I a little awkward peasant boy. He beat me
barbarously; often took me by the ears and dragged me from the ground.
I screamed like a goat that had the knife sticking into it, so that
often the neighbours came screaming in to him to know whether he would
kill me out and out. I did not remain long with him. Just at this time
there came one who had travelled to the schools at Ulm and Munich in
Bavaria, a grandson of my old grandfather. This student's name was Paul
Summermatter. My friends had told him of me, and he promised them that
he would take me with him, and in Germany take me to school. As soon as
I heard of this I fell on my knees, and besought God Almighty to help
me away from the priest, who taught me sheer nothing, but on the
contrary beat me unmercifully. I had scarcely learned to sing the
"Salve" a little, and to go about the village with other scholars who
were also with the priest, and were obliged to sing before the houses
for eggs.
Once, when we were about to celebrate mass, the other boys sent me into
the church to fetch a taper. This I thrust alight into my sleeve and
burnt myself so, that I still bear about me the scar of it. When Paul
wished to wander again, I was to come to him to Stalden. Behind Stalden
is a house called "Zum Müllibach;" there my mother's brother, Simon
Summermatter, lived; he was to be my guardian, and gave me a golden
florin: which I carried in my hand to Stalden, and on the way often
looked at it to see whether I had it, and then gave it to Paul. Thus we
left the country. I was then obliged to beg for the necessary money on
the road, and also to share it with Paul my Bacchant. Schools were not
then established in all places; and young persons who wished to learn
any thing, or to prepare themselves for any religious office, which at
that time required but little knowledge, went, either singly or in
greater numbers, after renowned teachers. As they were for the most
part poor people, they lived on alms by the way. And when the thing
degenerated the grown ones were called Bacchants, because they
lived well on what was obtained by begging, and led a wild and
dissolute life: the little ones were called _a-b-c_ fags.[1] They, when
the begging was not sufficient, did not make any scruple about
stealing, which was called "Sharp-Shooting." They were, however,
usually called Scholastics, or Travelling Scholars. So bad were the
school-arrangements; until the Reformation made improvements in this
department also. On account of my simplicity and provincial dialect,
people gave very liberally to me. When I crossed over the Grimsel, and
came into an inn at night, I saw a stove made of tiles of white delft
for the first time, and the moon shone on the tiles. I thought it was a
large calf, for I saw only two tiles shining, and believed them to be
the eyes. In the morning I saw geese, of which I had never seen any
before. When therefore they set on me hissing, as geese are accustomed
to do, I ran away from them with a loud cry, for I thought it was the
devil who wanted to devour me. In Lucerne I saw the first tiled roofs,
and wondered very much at the red colour. Hereupon we came to Zurich:
there Paul waited for several comrades who wished to go with us to
Meissen. In the mean time I went for alms, with which I was obliged
almost entirely to support Paul: for when I came into an inn the people
liked to hear me speak the St. Gall dialect, and gave me liberally. At
that time there was in Zurich a certain fellow, a great rogue, out of
Leak in St. Gall: his name was Carle. He once came to me--for we lodged
in the same house--and said to me, that I should allow him to give me
one blow on the bare back, and that he would give me a Zurich sixer
(sixpence) for it. I allowed myself to be persuaded. He then laid hold
of me stoutly, laid me across a chair, and beat me very sorely. When I
had borne that, he asked me to lend him the sixer again, for he wished
to sup with the landlady at night, and could not pay the reckoning. I
gave him the sixpence, but never got it again. Thus were my innocency
and inexperience abused. After we had waited for company about eight or
nine weeks, we set out for Meissen; for me, a very long journey,
because I was not accustomed to travel so far, and besides that, I was
obliged to provide my provisions on the way. We travelled eight or nine
together--three little fags, and the rest great Bacchants, as they were
called, and I was the smallest and youngest of the fags. When I could
not get on vigorously, my relation Paul walked behind me with a rod or
stick, and beat me on the bare legs; for I had no hose on, but bad
shoes. I cannot now remember all that befel us on the road; but some
adventures I have not yet forgotten. When we were upon the journey, and
were speaking of all sorts of things, the Bacchants narrated to one
another how it was the custom in Meissen and Silesia for the fags to be
allowed to steal geese and ducks, and other articles of provision, and
that nothing was done to them on that account if they could only escape
from the owner. In my simplicity I believed every thing, for I knew
nothing of the commandments of God, and had had no experience of the
world. We were one day not far from a village; there was a great flock
of geese there, and the herdsman was not at hand, but pretty far off
with the cowherds. Then I asked my comrades, the fags, "When shall we
be in Meissen, that I may throw at the geese and kill them?" They said,
"We are there already." Then I took a stone, threw it, and hit one on
the foot. The others fled away, but the lame one could not follow. I
took another stone, threw, and hit it on the head, so that it fell
down; for when with the goats, I had learned to throw well, so that no
shepherd of my age was superior to me: could also blow the shepherd's
horn, and leap with the pole; for in such arts I exercised myself with
my fellow-shepherds. I then ran to it, and caught the goose by the
neck, and put it under my little coat, and went along the road through
the village. Then the gooseherd came running after, shouting through
the village, "The urchin has robbed me of a goose." I and my fellow
fags ran off, and the feet of the goose hung out from under my little
coat. The peasants came out of their houses with halberds, and followed
us. When I now saw that I could not escape with the goose, I let it
fall. I jumped aside into a thicket outside the village; but my two
comrades ran along the road and were overtaken by two peasants. They
then fell down on their knees and begged for mercy, for that they had
done them no harm. The peasants therefore seeing that he was not there
who had let the goose fall, went back into the village and took the
goose along with them. When I saw how they ran after my companions, I
was in a great fright, and said to myself, "O God! I believe that I
have not blessed myself to-day:" as I had been taught that I should
bless myself every morning. When the peasants came into the village
they found our Bacchants in the public-house; for they had gone before,
and we came after. Then the peasants thought that they ought to pay for
the goose, which would have made about two bats (four-pence), but I do
not know whether they paid it or not. When they came to us again they
laughed, and asked how it had happened. I excused myself with saying,
that I thought such was the custom of the country; but they said that
it was not yet time. When, however, some of the Bacchants behaved
themselves very rudely towards us, some of us, with Paul, determined to
run away from the Bacchants, and go by way of Dresden to Breslau. On
the way we had to suffer much from hunger, so that several days
we ate nothing but raw onions with salt; some days roasted acorns,
crab-apples, and wild pears. Many a night we lay in the open air,
because no one would suffer us in the houses, no matter how early we
might ask for lodging. Now and then the dogs were set at us. When
however we came to Breslau there was an abundance of every thing; yes,
every thing was so cheap that the poor fags used to eat too much, and
often made themselves sick. At first we went to school in the cathedral
of the Holy Cross; when however we heard that in the principal parish
of St. Elizabeth there were several Swiss, we went thither. There were
there two from Bremgarten, two from Mellingen, and others, besides a
number of Suabians. There was no difference made between the Suabians
and the Swiss; they addressed one another as countrymen, and protected
one another. The city of Breslau has seven parishes, each a separate
school: and no scholar was allowed to go singing into another parish;
else they immediately shouted "Ad idem! ad idem!" Then the fags ran
together, and beat one another very sorely. There were, as was said at
that time, several thousand Bacchants and fags in the city at once, who
all lived upon alms. It was said also that there were some that had
been there twenty, thirty, or more years, who had had their fags that
were obliged to wait upon them. I have often in one evening carried my
Bacchants five or six loads of provisions home to the school where they
lived. People gave to me very willingly, because I was little, and a
Swiss; for they were uncommonly fond of the Swiss. They also felt great
compassion with the Swiss, because just at that time they had suffered
sorely in the great battle at Milan; so that the common people said,
"The Swiss have now lost their Pater-Noster." For before that, they
imagined that the Swiss were quite invincible.
I one day went up to two gentlemen or country squires in the
market-place, (I heard afterwards that the one was called Benzenauer,
the other Tucker,) who were walking there, and asked alms from them, as
poor fags were accustomed to do. Tucker said to me, "From whence are
you?" and when he heard that I was a Swiss, he was surprised, together
with Benzenauer, and said to me, "But are you really a Swiss? If that
is the fact, I will adopt you as a son, and I will assure you of that
here before the council in Breslau; but, in return, you must promise to
remain with me, and accompany me wherever I go." I answered, "In my
native place I was given in charge to a certain person; I will ask him
about it." But when I asked my relation Paul about it, he said, "I have
conducted you out of your own native place, and I will conduct you to
your own friends again, and then whatever they bid you, that you can
do." I therefore declined this offer. But whenever I came before the
house I was not allowed to go empty away. Thus I remained for a time in
Breslau; was also three times ill in one winter, so that they were
obliged to bring me into the hospital, for the travelling scholars had
a particular hospital and physicians for themselves. Sixteen hellers
were also paid weekly from the Town-house for each sick person, by
which one person could be well supported. Care was then taken of the
patients, and they had good beds, only they were not clean; so that I
rather lay upon the floor than in the beds. During the winter the fags
lay upon the floor in the school; but the Bacchants in small chambers,
of which there were several hundreds at St. Elizabeth's. But in summer,
when it was hot, we lay in the church-yard: collected grass, such as is
spread in summer before the doors on Sunday in the gentlemen's
streets,[2] and lay in it, like pigs in the straw. When however it
rained we ran into the school; and when there was thunder we sang
responsories and other sacred music the whole night, with the
Subcantor. Now and then after sapper, in summer, we went into the
beer-houses to beg for beer. And the drunken Polish peasants would then
give us so much, that I was often unable to find my way to the school
again, though only a stone's throw from it. In short, there was plenty
to eat here, but there was not much study; and of true piety no one had
an idea. In the school at St. Elizabeth's, indeed, nine Bachelors of
Arts read lectures at the same hour, and in the same room; still the
Greek language had not yet made its way anywhere in the country;
neither had any one printed books, except the Preceptor, who had a
printed Terence. What was read had first to be dictated, then pointed,
then construed, and at last explained; so that the Bacchants had to
carry away thick books of notes when they went home.
From Breslau eight of us migrated again to Dresden; had however to
suffer much from hunger on the way. We then determined to separate for
one day; some went to see after geese; some after turnips, and carrots,
and onions; some about a pot; we little ones however were to procure
bread and salt in the neighbouring town of Neumark. In the evening we
intended to assemble again outside the city, and there take up our
lodging, and cook what we might have. About a gunshot distant from the
city there was a well, by which we wished to remain during the night;
but when the fire was seen, they fired at us; still no one was hit. We
therefore took ourselves off behind a ridge to a little rivulet and
thicket. The bigger companions hewed branches down, and made a hut;
others plucked the geese, of which they had managed to get two; others
cut the turnips into the pot, and put the head and feet and the like in
also; others made two wooden spits, and began to roast; and as soon as
it was a little brown, we took it from the spit and ate it, and the
turnips too. To none of us did it occur that we were partaking of
stolen provisions, and so were worthy of punishment in the sight of God
and man. In the night we heard something making an odd noise. There was
a wear near us from which the water had been let off the day before,
and the fish were springing up to the wall; we therefore took as many
as we could carry in a shirt, and on a stick, and set off for the
nearest village. There we gave part of them to a peasant, that, in
return, he should boil the others in beer for us.
From Dresden we went to Nuremberg. On the way, not far from Dresden, it
happened that I went into a village to request alms, and came before a
peasant's house. Then the peasant asked me where I came from. When he
heard that I was a Swiss, he asked, if I had any companions. I
answered, "My companions are waiting for me outside the village."
"Desire them to come hither," said he, and he got a good meal ready for
us; also beer enough to drink. When we were comfortable, and the
peasant with us, he said to his mother, who was lying in bed in the
room, "Mother, I have often heard from you, that you would like to see
a Swiss before you die: there you see several; I have invited them for
your sake." Then the mother raised herself up, thanked the son for
bringing such guests, and said, "I have heard so much good of the
Swiss, that I very much desired to see one: methinks that I will now
die more willingly; therefore make yourselves merry." Whereupon she
laid herself down again, and we set out again after we had thanked the
peasant. From thence we came to Munich, where Paul and I found lodging
with a soap-boiler of the name of Hans Schräll, who was a Master of
Arts of Vienna, but an enemy to the clerical state. Him I helped to
make soap, rather more than I went to school; and travelled about with
him to the villages to buy ashes. Paul at length determined to pay a
visit to our home, for we had not been at home during five years.
Accordingly, we went home to St. Gall. My friends were then unable to
understand me, and said, "Our Tommy speaks so profoundly, that no one
can understand him:" for, being young, I had learned something of the
language of every place where I had been.