But the old, unclean night-bird would not let his blessed Highness go to his grave in peace (probably because he had called her an accursed witch). For the 18th of the same month, when all the nobles and estates were assembled to witness the ceremonial of interment, along with several members of the ducal house, and other illustrious personages, such a storm of hail, rain, and wind, came on just at a quarter to three, as they had reached the middle of the service, that the priest dropped the book from his hands, and the church became so suddenly dark, that the sexton had to light the candles to enable the preacher to read his text. Never, too, was heard such thunder, so that many thought St. Jacob's Tower had fallen in, and the princes and nobles rushed out of the church to shelter themselves in the houses, while the most terrific lightning flashed round them at every step.
Yet truly it must have been all witch-work, for when the funeral was over, the weather became as serene and beautiful as possible.
And a great gloom fell upon every one in consequence, for that it was no natural storm, a child could have seen. Indeed, Dr. Joel, who was wise in these matters, declared to his Highness Duke Bogislaff XIII. that without doubt it was a witch-storm, for the doctor was present at the funeral, as representative of the University of Grypswald. And respecting the clouds, he observed particularly that they were formed like dogs' tails, that is, when a dog carries his tail in the air so that it forms an arc of a circle. And this, indeed, was the truth.
Summa.—As by the death of Duke Barnim the government devolved upon Duke Casimir of Rügenwald, the estates proceeded thither to offer him their homage, but the Prince hesitated, said he was sickly, and who could tell whether it would not go as ill with him as with his brothers? But the estates, both temporal and spiritual, prayed him so earnestly to accept the rule, that he promised to meet them on the next morning by ten of the clock, in the great Rittersaal (knights' hall), and make them acquainted with his decision.
The faithful states considered this a favourable answer, and were in waiting next morning, at the appointed hour, in the Rittersaal. But what happened? Behold, as the great door was thrown open, in walked the Duke, not with any of the insignia of his princely station, but in the dress of a fisherman. He wore a linen jacket, a blue smock, a large hat, and great, high fisher's boots, reaching nearly to his waist. Item, on his back the Duke carried a fisherman's basket; six fishermen similarly dressed accompanied him, and others in a like garb followed.
All present wondered much at this, and a great murmur arose in the hall; but the Duke threw his basket down by his side, and leaned his elbow on it, while he thus went on to speak: "Ye see here, my good friends, what government I intend to hold in future with these honest fishers, who accompanied me up to my dear brother's funeral. I shall return this day to Rügenwald. The devil may rule in Pomerania, but I will not; if you kill an ox there is an end of it, but here there is no end. Satan treats us worse than the poor ox. Choose a duke wheresoever you will; but as for me, I think fishing and ruling the rudder is pleasanter work than to rule your land."
And when the unambitious Prince had so spoken, he drew forth a little flask containing branntwein [Footnote: Whisky] (a new drink which some esteemed more excellent than wine, which, however, I leave in its old pre-eminence; I tasted the other indeed but once, but it seemed to me to set my mouth on fire—such is not for my drinking), and drank to the fishers, crying, "What say you, children—shall we not go and flounder again upon the Rügenwald strand?" Upon which they all shouted, "Ay! ay!"
His Grace then drank to the states for a farewell, and leaving the hall, proceeded with his followers to the vessel, which he ascended, singing gaily, and sailed home directly to his new fishing-lodge at Neuhausen.
Such humility, however, availed his Grace nothing in preserving him from the claws of Satan; for scarcely a year and a half had elapsed when he was seized suddenly, even as his brothers, and died on the 10th May 1605, at the early age of forty-eight years, one month, twenty-one days, and seventeen hours.
But to return to the states. They were dumb with grief and despair when his Grace left the hall. The land marshal stood with the staff, the court marshal with the sword, and the chancellor with the seals, like stone statues there, till a noble at the window called out—