CHAPTER V.
Erastus found a more systematic order in Petersthal, on his return in the evening, but still much was wanting, as the four physicians with their dozen assistants had only accomplished the half of what the Priest had done single handed in the much larger district of Schönau. The laborers themselves had been obliged to undertake the burial of the dead and the cleaning of the streets, all the healthy men having fled. It was impossible to think of cleaning the houses, the women asserted that they were all too weak to help in any way. They could not even be induced to give up the beds and clothing they had used to be burnt, or to purify and air their houses. Out of humor, angry, and wearied of their fruitless toil, the physicians sat together round one of the carts, which they had fitted up as their night-quarters. The horses were fastened to the trees, whilst each man made ready with the means at hand. Erastus still went about the neighboring houses, to at least aid the sick as far as possible, and only when darkness prevented any further visitation did the conscientious physician seek his own narrow cart. Wearied he stretched himself out and gazed upwards at the starry sky, whose pure beauty formed a singular contrast to the misery going on around him. Jupiter beamed in calm splendor, and to the South shone the ruddy Mars. "Can your conjunctions have anything to do with death, plague and pestilence?" thought the physician, who was generally known as an opponent of astrology. Then he also slumbered off, but in his restless sleep he heard the laborers stealing the provision and guzzling the wine set aside for the sick. Towards morning there was an alarm. Some scoundrels had furtively approached the provision cart and attempted to quietly draw it away. But two of the laborers, who contrary to Erastus' orders had laid down between some sacks, awoke and roared for help, at which the thieves disappeared in the darkness. At day-break the expedition arose with stiff limbs, heavy heads, and in a most dejected condition of mind. The fruitless negotiations with the people demoralised through sickness began anew. As Erastus perceived that in this way he would never attain his object, he determined to copy the example which had been set him the day previous. He turned his back to the scolding women, and directed his steps towards the church, whose steeple ranged high above the houses and trees. Surrounded by a low broken down wall, the small white village church gleamed through the fruit trees amidst wooden crosses and sunken graves. The physician thought of turning this into an hospital, but the narrow space would only hold at the most thirty patients. He had to take hay and straw by force from the stalls, and with these the laborers prepared a clean litter along the walls of the church. Erastus and some of his assistants returned to the carts to fetch blankets and linen. On his return, he saw a column of smoke arising near the chapel and an alarm of fire was raised in the quiet village. A peasant enraged at the forcible abstraction of his hay, had set his whole provision on fire, and stole unmolested away. It was useless to think of extinguishing the flames. With a grim laugh the laborers sat on the walls of the church-yard and looked on at the little church burning down. "If these people will not help themselves in any way," said the physicians, "let us leave them. When the pestilence has raged itself out it will cease of itself." Erastus urged them to make one more house to house visitation. They shrugged their shoulders and left it to him. The well intentioned physician met only with senseless objections or coarse abuse on giving orders in the nearest house, that the infected objects should be burnt. He at length lost all patience, and declared he would hand over no provisions to those who refused to obey his directions. He then together with his laborers began clearing out the empty farm-yards, so that after this work had been completed, the healthy could occupy them instead of their infected dens in the village. Here and there large fires fed by the straw beds of the patients now flamed up, and the disgusting smell of burnt linen filled the entire valley. But Erastus' own people had had already enough of the affair. Nothing was done as quick as he ordered it, or as he had ordered it. The laborers took advantage of the evacuation of the sick-dens to pilfer, as predicted by the peasants, and the villagers stood in angry groups together consulting as to whether they could not resist by force the attacks of these strangers. Finally Erastus was compelled to make the humiliating confession to himself, that without priestly intervention he could never attain his object among this debased population. Paul's miracle on the Kreuzweg appeared to him now in a much milder light. So he sat down on a stone and wrote a letter to the Magister. "Jurists and medical men abdicate, and pray for help from the theologians," he began his request to Paul, asking him whether he could not leave Schönau to itself for a short while, so as to place matters here on a better footing. One of the laborers was despatched to the monastery with this prayer to the miracle-monger, a request disagreeable enough to Erastus, who himself returned once more to his thankless duties. The mood of the peasants had now become belligerent. They stood around the carts in groups and declared that the Kurfürst had sent these provisions for their benefit, and that the Counsellor had no right to withhold them. Some of the men and youths, who had kept out of the way on the previous day, now mingled among the groups. They were presumably the same who had made the nightly attack on the cart containing the provisions. Erastus had to summon his men from their work to guard the wagons. The physicians themselves began to be weary of their work. "Let us give the provisions to this rebellious peasantry and leave them to their fate," they said. Whilst thus a violent discussion arose among the members of the Commission, an impudent youth sprang upon the provision cart and tore down the linen covering. Immediately the women surrounded the cart and seized casks and sacks with eager hands. Suddenly the trot of horses was heard at the entrance of the village. "The police magistrate with four mounted men," cried a laborer, "he knows what is necessary to do." The women crept off, in an instant the crowd dispersed and the young men disappeared behind the houses. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni, "the learned Magistrate," as he was wont to be called by the guests at the Hirsch, appeared on the spot and sprang from his horse. He was a handsome man, this magistrate, but his tall figure was broken down through dissipation. Only a few sparse black hairs covered the head of this man yet in the prime of life, and all the seven mortal sins had left their traces on his worn face. His eyes were crooked, and his legs no longer carried out the wishes of their owner. Although the ends of his moustache curled up grimly, the corners of the mouth were weak and flabby. For so severe a man his bearing was rather affected, as he much liked to show off the learning, which he owed to the old school of humanity at Heidelberg. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni did not like work. Instead of fulfilling his office at the town-hall, he preferred making verses, and the reports of his examinations often read like poems. The Kurfürst wished to dismiss him, but the Amtmann of Heidelberg had rendered to Frederic III., at the death of Otto Heinrich, a signal service. He had enabled the poor Duke of Simmern to enter Heidelberg in sufficient time to possess himself of his legitimate inheritance, which the Duke Albert of Bavaria was already preparing to seize. Thus the Kurfürst felt himself bound down by personal obligations, and many a Prince has been compelled to adopt new reforms to render an official whom he does not wish to offend harmless. Herr Hartmann's bad management had rendered the idea of handing over police management to the Presbyters more acceptable to Frederic III., as the Church alone seemed to have an earnest desire to punish sin. Naturally the Magistrate himself was numbered among the friends of the Geneva Ban who would thus relieve him of a part of his burdensome duties. Such was the man who now appeared on Paolo's battle-field of Schönau. Half rake, half pedant he presented at no time a pleasant appearance, but that day he was as wonderfully decked out as if he had copied Holbein's picture of the plague-doctor. In one hand he had a bottle of vinegar which he clapped to his nose so soon as the smell of burnt bedding reached his nostrils; in the other he held drawn his longest sword, as if to keep away every danger from his person. If he had to touch anything, he dropped the vinegar bottle into his pocket, and brought out a pair of tweazers, with which he held out the objects, although he appeared well protected by thick leather gloves. Doublet and hose were stuffed out with camomile and peppermint, and in case this did not suffice, around his breast and back hung hollow balls pierced with holes, from which spunges steeped in medicines, spread a stupefying odor. Deadly fear and silent rage at the disgusting duty imposed on him were expressed on his dark countenance. His first magisterial duty was to arrest the peasant who had caused the fire, and who for the time was bound to a tree. The soldiers brought about by blows and curses the execution of the precautionary measures, which the physician had been vainly endeavouring for the last twenty-four hours to induce the obstinate peasant-women to adopt. At midday the Magistrate held an inquiry as to how the plague had crept in. At first the women kept a sullen silence, till finally a young wench on whose features idiocy was plainly marked stepped forward and related like some cackling hen her confused tale. Every evening before the outburst of the pestilence, a dog with fiery eyes had run across the village snapping at the houses. Wherever he had stopped, the plague declared itself within seven days. The dog was in fact no one else but the herb-woman of the Kreuzgrund, in whose hut he always disappeared. The infection had left off at the Kreuzgrund, not a single person had died there. "So she is again to the front," said the Magistrate. "In the office there is already a series of papers about her misdeeds. Now is she ripe for the stake. Does not her appearance quite coincide with the story of the mad dog at Ephesus, which Apollonius of Tyana ordered to be stoned to death?" he said turning to the Counsellor. Erastus however returned to his cart, he would have nothing to do with the matter. The Magistrate mounted accompanied by two men, to arrest Mother Sibylla. Near them ran the girl who had accused the witch to act as guide. "That she is a witch," she said panting, "one can know from her always having butter, and yet no one has ever seen her churning. She has charmed my Peter and he now keeps company with Sue, and my mother's pains are also owing to her. But there is her house, I won't go any further, else she will do me some harm." The old woman's hut lay in the woody green Seitenthal, whose stream turned the wheels of Werner's mill. It was a small house black with smoke and age having blind windows. The door was shut, one of the soldiers looked through the cracks: "All is empty, she escaped up the chimney the moment she heard us coming."
"Dismount, we must make an inventory," ordered the Magistrate. The men dismounted and a strong shove soon broke in the door of the empty hut. On entering the soldiers made the sign of the cross to guard themselves from the magic arts of the escaped witch. This was a catholic custom and it was well for them that none of the gentlemen forming the Church Council saw them otherwise they would have been dismissed from the service. The room was empty. Only a large black cat sitting by the hearth, glared with ferocious green eyes at the uninvited guests. "Could that be the witch in person." The sergeant approached, "Jesus, Maria, Joseph," he yelled out as the cat made a spring forward and disappeared through the open door. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni maintained his composure, but nevertheless let his men precede him, so that they might fall victims to any magic curse, which the old woman might have left behind. He also took care not to touch anything. Whatever was to be confiscated, he let the soldiers take away. There was however not much. Above the empty hearth, hung a fox's skin, as well as other furs and hides, placed there by the witch to be dried out. A box with old iron seemed to Herr Hartmann to resemble the nails of a scaffold, and the rope hanging near might have been used for hanging. Brooms leaning against the chimney appeared to him worthy of suspicion. All kinds of flowers and herbs were laid out on boards or in wicker-baskets to be dried: elder, dandelions, camomile, lime-blossoms, and others, though it was not really necessary for the devil to have taught mother Sibylla their properties. The disappointed police-officers looked at each other, was that really a witch's kitchen? The sergeant came a sudden exclamation of joy and pointed to a small trap-door carefully concealed by old clothes. Herr Hartmann pushed it open with his sword, and as it gave way ordered the officer to open it. "Here we have her household ware," said the Amtmann with a furious look. The men entered into the room. The bleached skull of a horse gazed at them with hollowed eyes from the opposite wall. On old pots and broken dishes lay dried wolves' eyes, birds' hearts, owls' feathers and claws. Snakes with black backs and white bellies were seen in tightly corked glass bottles, as well as horribly distended toads. Lizards with far cleverer eyes than those of the men looking at them returned their gaze from the glassy confines in which they were placed. On the window-sill were little bottles with salves, fern-seeds, vervain and all kinds of magic powders. That which however most served to convict the witch, was a basket which the wicked old woman had evidently placed hurriedly down after her last trip, before escaping, for in it lay carefully wrapped up in rags and small boxes, all kinds of snake skeletons, toads' bones, a child's skull, wolf's hair, a bottle with pigeon's blood, and numerous bits of paper on which curious symbols were inscribed, together with a skillet with tinder and flint used to cook the witch's broth in the woods. Herr Hartmann Hartmanni did not appear quite satisfied. "A miserably low slut," he said contemptuously, "the whole find is not worth fifty thalers. Take up the basket, as it is, and the old pots with their contents. This Satan's bride has concealed her more valuable implements, otherwise I should have managed to scrape together a pretty considerable sum out of these confiscated pots and kettles. But Master Hammerling will soon open her mouth, and make her tell, where she has hidden her treasure, the moment we have caught her."
"She won't let herself be caught," said the sergeant, "she is now away with the plague, and God only knows what shape she will assume, and whether she won't appear to us to-night as a nightmare."
"The plague take it," said the Amtmann tremblingly.
"I think, Sir," continued the soldier, "it would be as well to leave her property untouched, one never knows how she may revenge herself. It once came to pass, that the Magistrate at Mosbach, after he had confiscated the witch's rubbish, went quietly to bed thinking that his beloved wife was already there; she however turned out to be the witch, pulled his leg out of the socket and otherwise injured him, then she vanished up the chimney, and what he had taken from her, had the next morning disappeared, in spite of having been carefully deposited under lock and key. I vote that we leave it all, as it is."
The Magistrate turned pale. "We can perhaps affix a seal," he murmured. At this instant a long dark figure appeared at the doorway. "Good Heavens," ejaculated the sergeant.
"Holy Martin," stuttered out the Magistrate, utterly regardless of the protestant doctrines.
"Is not the Counsellor Erastus here?" inquired Magister Laurenzano in his musical voice.
"Oh, is it you, Magister," said the Magistrate quite relieved. "You will find the Counsellor in the village, but could you not tell us, where to find the old witch, who lives in this hole?"
"What is she guilty of now?" asked Paul.
The Amtmann answered pathetically. "Strong evidence is adduced, that it was she, who caused the pestilence." Seeing the Magister turn pale, Herr Hartmann raised his arm in a tragic manner. The sight of the learned and renowned pulpit orator inspired him. "Not without reason," began he his declamation, "is this wicked old woman named Sibylla. She has gathered near the Linsenteich the herbs, whose juices, as Plinius tells us, infuse corruption through all the channels of the body. By the white stone, where thorn and thistle thickly growing prevent an access, by the marshy alder stream, by all solitary moors, among the reedy thickets of the Kimmelsbach, in short everywhere, where the tread of man is seldom heard, has she been seen crouching, ensnaring toads and conversing with will-o-the wisps. Among the ruins of the Heiligenberg, where vipers wreath, and in yonder silent woods, where the mountain-cock was her solitary companion, has she been seen, as she divided the invisible regions of the air with hazel-twigs, brought down hail, and murmured invocations whilst crouching in the dust. She has poisoned the source of this brook, so that it brought the plague into the town, and transformed in the similitude of a dog has dropped the poisonous foam in the dark evening hour, on the thresholds of those houses, in which according to evidence the plague first broke out. See here the implements of Satan," and he rapped upon the confiscated wares of the witch, "behold the black and white wand of Circe," said he, taking up a half-pealed hazel-stick from the corner and handing it to the Magister. A lurid fire gleamed in the widely distended eyes of the young Priest, excited at the account of these horrors. "Behold," continued the Magistrate carried away by his own discourse, "the hellish distillations, which she obtained drop by drop from the roots and stalks of plants, see, how she bottled the night-dew and poison of the fulsome toad, to sprinkle over innocent children, here in this kettle did she boil the poisonous vapours, which rising upwards to the clouds came down again as the seeds of pestilence, and behold moreover how this beauteous green wooded valley is already withered by the breath of the witch." Paul Laurenzano turned pale with excitement, his breath came and went quickly and audibly. The old fire of fanaticism gleamed in his dark eye. "I think I know who has concealed her," he said with tremulous voice. "Come, I will guide you."
The Amtmann strode reverentially at the side of the young clergyman. The soldiers followed at a short interval leading the Magistrate's horse. Having proceeded for a brief space, the Magister left the road, and followed the course of a stream towards a mill. "Even in Schönau," he now said, "the report has spread, that the old witch brought in the plague, and as she was not safe in her house, you will find her concealed by the old Dissenter, Miller Werner." Behind the green orchard, overshadowed by poplars and elders, lay the mill sought for by the troop of police, an emblem of peace. The front window-shutters were closed, but the clappering wheels untiringly spoke by day and night the praise of the man, who even during these terrible times had not ceased working, but made bread for the starving inhabitants out of the newly gathered in harvest. The inhabitants of the mill had not heard the arrival of the soldiers owing to the noise of the wheels, but the Magistrate rapped loudly with the pommel of his sword on the closed shutters.
"Don't break in my windows. Peace-breaker," called out the voice of old Werner, "is that the way you ask for bread?" The shutter flew open and the weather-beaten face of the gray headed miller appeared. Surprised, yet without fear, he surveyed the group before his house, whilst the red head of his boy, sprinkled over with flour, like the stalk of a red lily, cropped up behind him curious to hear what all this was about? But before the Baptist could express any astonishment the Magistrate began: "You are sheltering the old witch. Give her up else you will find yourself in the square tower, which you well know."
"Of what is she accused?" asked the old Miller calmly.
"Of spreading the plague," answered Herr Hartmann Hartmanni with due solemnity.
"And you, the Prince's Magistrate believe, that an old woman can have caused all the misery which the united officials of the Palatinate could not prevent? In that case, sir, do not lay your hand on her, lest she injure you through incantations."
"You admit then, that she is here?" asked the Magistrate.
The Baptist made a sign behind his back, and his red-headed boy disappeared through a door leading from within. Instead of answering the question, he then said,
"It is curious, for weeks we have been waiting for the officials to aid in stemming the pestilence. My provisions are devoured, my faithful Martha is worn to a shadow through running, watching and attending others, government however let us rot and perish. But now, now that the plague is almost gone, riders and carts come to take off an old woman who is accused of being the cause of all the trouble." Herr Hartmann Hartmanni was rather taken aback at this unexpected onslaught, but a tremendous noise at the back of the house prevented him from making any answer. A horrible crowing, squeaking, and grunting was heard to proceed from a distant hay-rick. The horse of the sergeant leapt wildly neighing with emptied saddle over the garden hedge, whilst its gigantic master lay miserably grovelling in the dust. The other police officer cursed and swore, whilst endeavoring to hold on to the bridle of the dismounted magistrate's shying steed without letting his own bolt. Paul sprang forwards to discover the cause of the confusion. An old woman ran in his way thinking to reach the mountains unobserved. He laid tight hold of her and immediately the sergeant who had been thrown off picked himself up and seized the old woman by the arm. "Devils' witch," he said, "we will serve thee out for this." At the same moment loud spanks and mournful wails were heard from behind the house. "He who does not hear, must feel, foolish boy," roared the angry voice of the Miller. "How often have I told you not to play the devil. Now thou alone hast made the matter look bad." The two groups met together at the door, the angry Miller holding his howling son by the ear, the Parson and the sergeant hauling along the old woman, who let her feet drag over the ground, uttering the most bestial cries. "Did I not sell you the snakes," she said every now and then to the Parson, "let me go. You also use snakes for your enchantments." At this disgusting sight the Miller let his boy loose. "Shame on you," he cried, "to thus ill-use an old woman, you especially, a Priest!"
"Witch and heretic house together, that has ever been an old custom," replied the Magister angrily, whilst the sergeant and his officer bound the old woman and then threw her on the ground.
"You have given shelter to the witch," now said the Magistrate, "we heard in your yard with our own ears the neighing of the devilish host, who with horns, tails, and claws galloped close past the sergeant as he lay on the ground...."
"Dost thou see, George, what thou hast brought about," interposed the Miller, seizing his boy once more by the arm and shaking him. "He it was who imitated the hellish voices, to laugh over your fright, other devils are not to be found in my house. You will make yourselves ridiculous, if it is known, that you let yourselves be taken in by a child."
Solemnly Herr Hartmann Hartmanni turned round to the red-headed George, who stood sheepishly near the fence not understanding the extent of the danger to his person. "Good, then he goes also with us to Heidelberg, and if he be not found guilty of more devilish arts, he will nevertheless get his quantum satis of birching for ridiculing the district magistrate."
"You will certainly never lock up a mere child in the witch's tower for a boyish trick for which he has been already punished?" said the Miller. "What will become of a child in this terrible prison, he will be frightened to death."
"You will keep him company," now broke in the Magister, "Herr Hermanni, I accuse this Baptist and heretic of intriguing for his sect contrary to the prince's mandates. He has lately availed himself of the terror caused by the plague, and also re-baptised certain families living in Schönau. Besides this you are witness, that he is in communication with the witch who is to be found on all cross-roads."
The Miller drew himself to his full height. "And thou priest of Baal, darest thou speak of cross-roads. Who is it makes appointments with innocent girls after sun-down on the cross-roads, yes, and the worst in repute of the whole district, where evil spirits, or rather evil passions abound." And once more the Miller pushed his boy to the front and called out: "Look on that boy, he it is to whom thou didst entrust thy filthy message." Pale as death Paul made a step backwards. Had when in decent company the whole of his clothes suddenly fallen off his body, he would have scarcely felt such a shock, as he did at his moral nakedness being thus exposed. A painful silence now reigned, all the more annihilating for the young Priest, as the audience had lately been increased, attracted by the noise the Heidelberg physicians together with the laborers and numerous peasant women had hastened up. All watched Paul's lips intently, to hear how he would answer such a serious charge. But he remained silent. It seemed to him as if he had become transparent, and every one pried into his filthy secrets with mocking eyes.
Then the witch on the ground squeaked out. "He it was who enticed Herr Erastus' fair haired daughter of a dark night to the Holtermann."
"What sayest thou of my daughter?" cried out Erastus, approaching the old woman in a rage.
"Well, the Counsellor must best know where it was that his daughter broke her little foot. The Parson wanted to play at marriage with her on the cross-road, where the Evil One meets his mistress every night. But others came before the gentleman, and the bride sprang into the Heidenloch, and that was too humid a bride-chamber for Sir Parson."
"You keep silent, old Dragon," whispered the old Miller, giving her a kick with his foot, but the bound witch only called out her wondrous tale doubly loud to the people around. Erastus' features became distorted, he laughed through very excitement. He resembled at that moment in his maddening sorrow the Devil himself, as his enemies averred; his hair bristled up, his face became black, whilst the white of his eye gleamed horribly from out of his darkened countenance. The cowardly Magistrate drew back. Among what sort of people had he fallen! He had long known Erastus to be a heretic; but now his daughter was a witch; he himself perhaps a sorcerer; did not the terrible man look exactly like one at that moment. And the foreign Parson moreover, whom Herr Hartmanni had never trusted, and who, as he the Magistrate of the district had just been informed, also bought witches' wares, held converse with the Evil one on the cross-road, and brought young maidens to his nightly revels. Not to mention the Baptist, his devilish boy, and the bound witch herself, who fixed him with an evil glare. Everyone who stood there must be clapped into the witches' tower on the Zwinger, but to do this he must have a warrant from the Kurfürst. He must also return with at least half a company of crossbow-men to this valley and root out all heresy and witchcraft. Without saying a word he mounted his horse and rode out of shot of his dreadful neighbors. Then he called out: "The examination can take place in Heidelberg, my business here is at an end. Sergeant, you deliver the witch and incendiary into the tower." He then set spurs to his horse, ordered the other officers in the village to follow him and trotted away as quick as he possibly could down the valley, still in mortal terror of being pursued by this conventicle of witches and heretics. The sergeant and the officer placed the fettered witch between their horses and thus brought her to the village, when being bound together with the peasant to a cart they made their way to the Tower. The Miller had in the meanwhile taken his boy by the arm; they went into the house to the old Martha. Erastus remained behind; he went up close to the young Priest, who stood silently leaning against a pear tree. "Magister Laurenzano," said the wretched father in a husky voice, "is there any truth in the statement made by the witch?" The young Priest remained silent. He looked down as if overwhelmed. "Did you entice Lydia by night to the Holtermann?" now shrieked the Physician in wild despair. The Priest bowed his head. The tall physician fell prostrate on the ground. His companions sprang forwards and carried him to one of the carts, whilst the Priest with his face buried in his hands hastened away.
All was once more still in front of the Miller's house. The frightened fowls ran hither and thither in the down-trodden grass. The mill-wheels clappered their monotonous old song, and gaily gleamed the rivulet in the bright midday sun, while many colored butterflies and dark dragonflies hovered around it. The passionate sobbing of women arose from the interior of the mill. After a while, Father Werner and his son appeared at the edge of the wood, both bearing knapsacks on their backs. The Miller knew, what to expect at the return of the Magistrate and made his way to the nearest frontier. Red-headed George on the other hand seemed not to consider the matter in so serious a light; he followed after his enraged progenitor quite calmly. "Father do not hurry so," he said panting, "the Heidelberg police are always late."