Sidonia, the Sorceress Volume Ii Part 26

So the knight did her will, but when he returned said--

"Diliana, if thou givest me so many nuts to crack when we are married, methinks it will be an evil thing."

To which she answered mildly--

"No, dear George, after marriage it is the wife who cracks all the hard nuts, but to-day, dearest, it is thy office. I know not why, but I have a feeling over me to-day as if the soul of my poor grandmother would be at rest after this execution, and that Sidonia herself will be, in some sense, pardoned through the means of that death-shift, No. 7; yet wherefore I think this I know not."

Just then a dull, hoa.r.s.e, murmuring sound was heard in the distance, like the heaving of the waves when thunder is in the air, and the Lady Matzke's maid rushed in exclaiming--"She's coming! she's coming!" Then Diliana trembled and turned pale, but still advanced to the balcony with her cousin and the young knight.

At length the terrible sorceress herself appears in sight, accompanied by the school, chanting the death-psalm. She wore a white robe seamed with black, and Diliana recognises, with a shudder, that this is indeed Clara's shift, for she had herself thus st.i.tched the seams in order to know it; but besides, the No.

7 was plainly discernible on the neck. She walked barefoot, and round her head was bound a black fillet flowered with gold, from beneath which her long white hair fluttered in the wind.

Diliana contemplates all this awhile shudderingly, then covers her face with both hands, and sobs and weeps, so that the tears pour down through the delicate little fingers, and my younker hath enough to do to comfort her. But when the procession disappears she dries her eyes, re-enters the chamber, and folding her hands across her bosom, walks up and down, praying earnestly, until the red Danish flag shoots up. Then she sighed deeply, and drying her beautiful eyes again said softly--

"May G.o.d have mercy upon her soul, now her tortures are over!"

Scarcely are the words uttered ere a dense cloud of smoke ascends above the fisher's house, rising higher and higher, like a lofty black tower in the air, so that they all conjectured--"Now she is burning on the pile," and shuddered, yet are content withal that at last her fearful life has ended.

Then they all knelt down and repeated the Lord's Prayer; then rising, addressed themselves in earnest for their homeward journey.

And here, with the death of Sidonia, I might justly close my book, merely stating in addition, that her ashes were laid in the burial ground for the poor, and that some time after the gentle Diliana caused a tombstone to be erected over them, out of Christian charity and forgiveness. But as some say his Highness the Duke got his death at the wedding of Diliana, I shall briefly narrate the facts here, to please the curious reader.

For the said Duke was so much taken with the Malmsey wine, that he sat up drinking the whole night, and next morning his legs were swelled to that degree that his boots had to be cut oft with knives. So that when the bridal pair arrived, his Grace had to receive them in slippers, yet rejoiced much at hearing that all was over; and then, scarcely giving Diliana time to recover herself, despatched the whole company off to the church. Not, however, without giving serious admonitions, both to the priest and the knight, George, not to let the ring drop. For if Dr.

Luther, the thoughtless lubberhead, had not let the ring fall at the wedding of his grandfather in Forgau, it would have been better with him and his whole race, as his grandmother of blessed memory had always said, and now indeed he saw she had spoken wisely.

Now my Jobst in the confusion of voices, hearing only the word "monk," thought his Grace was speaking of the monks' heads on the capitals of the pillars in the hall. So seeing two empty flasks, shouted, "Ay, that is for thee, monk!" and pitched them crash!

crash! with such force up at the monks, that the pieces flew about the ears of the musicians who were to play before the bridal pair going to church, and a loud peal of laughter rang through the hall--after which they all set off for the wedding at last. And in truth this was a blessed marriage.

But respecting the ill.u.s.trious and princely race of Pomerania, they perished each and all without leaving behind one single inheritor of their name or possessions. Not, methinks, because of the spell which the demoniac sorceress laid on them, but because He loved this race so well, that He withdrew them from this evil world before the dreadful strifes, wars, and calamities came upon them, which our poor fatherland now endures. For before these storms broke over our heads, He called them one by one from this vale of tears, and truly, the first was his Highness Duke Francis, for in a few months after Sidonia's execution, after a brief illness, on the 27th December 1620, he fell asleep in G.o.d, aged 43 years, 8 months, and 3 days, without leaving children. The next was Bishop Udalricus, who likewise became suddenly ill at Pribbernow, near Stepnitz, with swollen body and limbs, and had to lie there until his death, on the 31st October 1622, when, to the great grief and consternation of the whole land, his young life closed at the early age of 34 years, and he too left no children, though he had a young and beautiful spouse. The next who died was Duke Philip Julius of Wolgast, the only son of Ernest Ludovicus and his spouse Hedwig. He was a wise and just ruler, but followed the others soon, on the 16th February 1625, aged only 40 years, 1 month, and 28 days--likewise, as all the rest, left no children.

But our Lord G.o.d hath not withdrawn so many and n.o.ble princes from the world without sending forth strange and wonderful signs to forewarn the land; for, without speaking of the great thunderclap which was heard all of a sudden in the middle of clear fine weather, the winter after Sidonia's death, and the numberless mock suns that appeared in different places, or of that strange rain, when a sulphureous matter, like starch in appearance, fell from the air (_item_, a snow-white pike was caught at Colzow in Wellin, seven quarters long, and half an ell broad, with red round eyes, and red fins), a stranger wonder than all was seen at Wolgast; for suddenly, during a review held there, one of the soldier's muskets went off without a finger being laid on it, and the ball went right through the princely Pomeranian standard with such precision, that the arms seemed to have been cut out all round with a sharp knife. At Stettin also, in the castle-chapel, one of the crowns suspended over the stalls fell down of itself; but still more awful was what happened respecting Bogislaus XIII., last father of all the Pomeranian princes. For all along, by the pillars of the aisle, there are figures in armour representing the deceased dukes. And during the sermon one Sunday, the sword fell clanging to the ground from the hand of the armed figure representing Bogislaus XIII., though no human hand ever touched it. At this sight every one was troubled in spirit, but woe, alas!

we now see what all these supernatural signs and wonders denoted!

Yet still we have one n.o.ble prince remaining with the ancient blood of Pomerania in his veins. May the Lord G.o.d spare him long to us, and bless him, like Abraham, with a son in his old age.

Such an Isaac would be a blessed sight to me; for when the last branch falls, I know that my poor heart will break also!

DR. THEODORUS PLoNNIES.

CONCLUSION.

_Mournful destiny of the last princely Pomeranian remains--My visit to the ducal Pomeranian vault in Wolgast, on the 6th May 1840._

Bogislaf XIV., who as a truth-loving, amicable, and pious glossator, has annotated so many places in our text, found this "last and happy hour," which he had so long desired, on the 10th March 1637. When he had attained the age of fifty-seven years, his death occurred at a period of unexampled misery, the like of which before or since was never seen in our whole German fatherland. Yet the destiny of the Zantalides which followed the princely Pomeranian house, seemed in no way propitiated even by their death. No; it raged, and rages still, against the last poor remains of their mouldering clay. Bogislaff, during the horrors of the thirty years' war, remained for _seventeen_ years unburied, because none of the princes who fought for the possession of Pomerania' would consent to bear the expense of the burial, and the land was too poor to take the cost upon itself.

Yet his corpse suffered no further indignities like those of his princely kinsfolk of Wolgast. For after ninety-four years we find him still lying calmly in his coffin, looking upward to his G.o.d through the little window which he so often sighed after. We shall first take a look at him before we descend into the Wolgast vault to contemplate the disgusting sacrilege which has been perpetrated and permitted there. Every reader of sensibility will feel interested in the following details, which are taken from Oelrich's valuable work, "Memorials of the Pomeranian Dukes," p.

87:--

"On the 19th of April 1731, a royal commission opened the vault in the castle-church of Stettin, wherein many of the n.o.ble princes of Pomerania lay buried, and the coffin of Duke Bogislaff was broken open by especial command. The body was found quite perfect. Even the face was tolerably preserved, though the eyes had fallen in; for the skin had dried over the features, and the beard was long and somewhat red; the coffin was lined throughout with violet velvet (some say black), bordered with stones which had the appearance of turquoise. The corpse was dressed in a surplice, similar in form to that worn by priests at the present day, but fringed with silver, and likewise ornamented with turquoise. Upon the left hand there was a diamond ring and another. The diamond was quite pale, and the right hand was lying close to the side, as if going to seize the dagger. Farther, they found a long and ma.s.sive gold chain suspended round the neck, and upon the breast a silver plate, like the bottom of a silver beaker, upon which the Pomeranian arms were engraved.

"Beneath the coffin of this last Duke of Pomerania lay the ducal flag, but the pole was broken in two, either from design or in consequence of decay; and above the coffin were remains of c.r.a.pe and mouldered fragments of velvet. _Lave anima pia!_

"But the princely remains of Wolgast had indeed a mournful destiny. True; they were not left unburied for a number of years, but they were plundered and outraged, in such a disgraceful and revolting manner, by church-robbers, that it is impossible even to read the account of it in the Swedish protocol of 21st June 1688, from which h.e.l.ler gives extracts in his 'Chronicle of the Town of Wolgast,' p. 346, without as much pain as emotion.

[Footnote: Only one of these robbers was seized-he was whipped and banished; the second hanged himself, and the other escaped.

One was a Jew; the other two were the s.e.xton and gravedigger of the church.]

"Yet the Swedish Government seemed content to rest with the simple investigation, and took no trouble about, or showed the least respect for, the ashes of those to whom they were indebted for land and people. For the coffins lay there just as the robbers left them--broken open with axes and hatchets, or wrenched asunder with crowbars, and still lie in this state. However the vault was closed up, and no one was permitted to enter it unless in the presence of one of the reigning family; for this reason very few ever beheld these mournful remains. I myself would probably never have had an opportunity of so doing, only that the Prussian Government resolved on building some additions to the Wolgast church; and, at the same time, desired the foundation to be evened, for it had sunk in various places, and afterwards to wall up the princely vault for ever. In order to work at the foundation, it was necessary to remove the great stone which covered the entrance to the vault, and many along with myself availed themselves of this last opportunity to visit the interior.

Therefore, on the day named above, I descended with deep emotion the steps that led to it. I found the vault was divided into two compartments, having vaulted roofs of about seven or eight feet high. In the first part.i.tion no coffin whatever was to be seen, but I could distinguish already the glitter of the tin coffins in the second compartment, which was reached by a further descent of a few steps, and lit up by the torches and lanterns of numerous visitors who had preceded me. The coffins were nine in number, and mostly covered with tin; each lay on a tressel of mason-work, and bore the marks, more or less, of the violence that had been employed to wrench them open.

"The strong Philip I. began the mournful range. A gentleman handed me his skull, in which scarcely a tooth was wanting. Then I searched in the adjoining coffin for that of his spouse Maria, 'my gracious Lady of Wolgast,' of Doctor Theodore's History. I found it, took it in the other hand, and cannot describe the strange feeling which came over me.

"When I had indulged some time in strange and deep emotions, I laid down the honourable relics again in their coffins, and stepped to that of Ernest Ludovic, the unfortunate lover of the still more unfortunate Sidonia. According to the protocol of 1688, which I held in my hand, there was to be seen there a violet velvet mantle, and a cap without anything inside. There they were--nothing more to find--all fallen in dust, the weak head as the weak heart! Close to him lay his unfortunate wife, Sophia Hedwig of Brunswick, both the most beautiful persons of their time.

"But my interest was excited most by the contemplation of Philip Julius, the last Duke of Pommern-Wolgast, who has only received a pa.s.sing notice in this book, but who was one of the most gifted, and probably the most lamented Prince of his thousand-year-old race. His coffin was of far costlier workmanship than the others, and decorated with a row of gilded angels' heads; near it stood the black wooden tressel, upon which it had originally been placed, and which looked as fresh as if it had been only just placed there, instead of having lain in the vault for two hundred and fifteen years. A strange sensation crept over me! We were both silent, till at last the gentleman began to search with his hand in the grey mouldering dust, and along with some rags of velvet, he brought up a damp, discoloured sc.r.a.p of paper, which he carelessly tore; but I instantly seized it, and joined the pieces together again, for the signification of such little notes in the coffins of old times was not unknown to me.

"And, in fact, I found what I sought; there was not only marked on it the date of the Duke's burial, the 6th of May, which had a mystic significance to me, since it was on the very 6th of May that I was now standing to contemplate these mute yet eloquent graves, but also there was noted down the text from which the funeral sermon had been preached (2 Tim. iv. 7), as well as the list of the psalms sung on the occasion, among which the closing psalm--'When sorrow a.s.sails thee,' is still to be found in most hymn-books. But my poor old Pomeranian heart could bear no more: I placed the paper again in the coffin; and, while the tears poured from my eyes as I ascended the steps, those beautiful old verses came into my head, and I could not help reciting them aloud:--

'So must human pomp and stat In the grave lie desolate.

He who wore the kingly crown, With the base worm lieth down: Ermined robe, and purple pall, Leaveth he at death's weird call.

Fleeting, cheating human life, Souls are perilled in thy strife; Yet the pomps in which we trust, All must perish!--dust to dust.

G.o.d alone will ever be; Who serves Him reigns eternally!'"

MARY SCHWEIDLER

THE AMBER WITCH

THE MOST INTERESTING TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT EVER KNOWN

PRINTED FROM AN IMPERFECT Ma.n.u.sCRIPT BY HER FATHER ABRAHAM SCHWEIDLER, THE PASTOR OP COSEROW IN THE ISLAND OF USEDOM

EDITED BY

WILLIAM MEINHOLD DOCTOR OF THEOLOGY

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY

LADY DUFF GORDON