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 Müggenwald 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 grammaticâ vel jure. When their dean, who was a judge at Brandenburg, and a Mecklenburg counsellor, came up for his degree of licenctiâ 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."