At this time, one David Grosskopf was pastor of Marienfliess. He was a learned and pious man, and like other pious priests, was in the habit of gathering all the women-folk of the parish in his study of a winter's evening, particularly the young maidens, with their spinning-wheels. And there they all sat spinning round the comfortable fire, while he read out to them from God's Word, and questioned them on it, and exhorted them to their duties. Thus was it done every evening during the winter, the maidens spinning diligently till midnight without even growing weary; or if one of them nodded, she was given a cup of cold water to drink, to make her fresh again. So there was plenty of fine linen by each New Year's day, and their masters were well pleased. No peasant kept his daughter at home, but sent her to the priest, where she learned her duties, and was kept safe from the young men. Even old mothers went there, among whom Trina Bergen always gave the best answers, and was much commended by the priest in consequence. This pleased her mightily, so that she boasted everywhere of it; but withal she was an excellent old woman, only the neighbours looked rather jealously on her.
This same priest, with all his goodness and learning, was yet a bad logician; for by his careless speaking in one of his sermons, much commotion was raised in the village. In this sermon he asserted that anything out of the usual course of nature must be devil's work, and ought to be held in abhorrence by all good Christians: he suffered for this after-wards, as we shall see. On the Monday after this discourse, he journeyed into Poland, to visit a brother who dwelt in some town there, I know not which.
Then arose a great talking amongst the villagers concerning the said Trina Bergen; for the cocks began to sit upon the eggs in place of the hens, in her poultry-yard, and all the people came together to see the miracle, and as it was against the course of nature, it must be devil's work, and Trina Bergen was a witch.
In vain the old mother protested she knew nothing of it, then runs to the priest's house, but he is away; from that to the mayor of the village, but he is going out to shoot, and bid her and the villagers pack off with their silly stories.
So the poor old mother gets no help, and meanwhile the peasants storm her house, and search and ransack every corner for proofs of her witchcraft, but nothing can be found. Stay! there in the cellar sits a woman, who will not tell her name.
They drag her out, bring her up to the parlour, while the old mother sits wringing her hands. Who was this woman? and how did she come into the cellar?
Illa.—"She had hired her to spin, because her daughter was out at service till autumn, and she could not do all the work herself."
"Why then did she sit in the cellar, as if she shunned the light?"
Illa.—"The girl had prayed for leave to sit there, because the screaming of the young geese in the yard disturbed her; besides, she had been only two days with her."
"But who in the devil's name was the girl? It was easy to see she had bewitched the hens, for everything against the course of nature must be devil's work."