"People talked of this new decree--was it true that the poor folk were to pay sixteen Pomeranian pence for a quart of beer?--O G.o.d!

what the cruelty and avarice of princes could do. But she scarcely believed the report, for she brewed beer herself better than any brewer in the land, and yet could sell the quart for eightpence, and have profit besides. Oh, that princes and ministers could rob the poor man so! ay, they would take the very shirt off his back to glut their own greed and covetousness. And what did they give their hard-earned gold for? To build fine houses for the Prince, forsooth, and fill them with fine pictures from Italy, and statues, as if he were a brat of a school-girl, and must have his dolls to play with."

"What sort is your beer, old dame?" asked a fellow. "Marry, it must be strange trash, I warrant."

_Illa_.--"No, no; if they would not believe her word, let them taste the beer. She wanted nothing further but to prove how the wicked government oppressed the poor folk; for she was a G.o.d-fearing woman, and her heart was filled with grief to see how the princes lately, in this poor Pomerania, squeezed the very life-blood out of the people," &c. Then she lifted up a barrel of beer upon the table (I have already said that Sidonia had brought some with her to sell), and invited the discontented people to taste it, which they were nothing loth to do, and soon broached the said barrel. Then, having tasted, they extolled her beer to the skies--"No better had ever been brewed." Now other troops of the discontented came pouring in from Lastadie, Wiek, &c., cursing, and swearing, and shouting--"The beer must not be raised; they would force the government to take off the tax. Would not their comrades join?"

This was fine fun to the old hag, and she produced another barrel of beer, which the mob emptied speedily, and then began talking, shouting, screaming, roaring like flocks of wild geese; and when the old hag saw that they had got enough under their caps to make them quite desperate, she began--

"Was not her beer as good as any beer in the duchy?"

"Ay, ay--better!" shouted the mob, "Where dost thou live, mother?"

To this she gave no answer, but continued: "Yet this beer cost but eightpence a quart, by which they could see how the wicked and cruel government oppressed them. Oh, it was a sin that cried to Heaven, to see how princes and n.o.bles scourged and skinned the poor folk. They swilled wine of the best, and plenty, in their own gorgeous castles, but grudged poor bitter poverty its can of beer!

Shame on such a government!"

"True, true!" shouted the mob; "she is right: we are scourged and skinned by these worthless n.o.bles. Come, brothers, let us off to the council-hall, and if they will not take off the tax, we'll murder every soul of them."

_Illa_.--"And be a.s.ses for their pains. Was that all they could do--_pray_ the mighty council, forsooth, to lower the tax? Oh, brave fellows! What! had they not the power in their own hands, if they would only be united? Had they never heard how the people of Anklam had, in former times, killed their rulers and governors, and then did justice to themselves? What right had prince, minister, or council to skin a people? They had all stout arms and brave hearts here, as she saw; _could they not right themselves?_--must they needs crouch for their own to prince or minister? Did she lie, or did she speak the truth?"

Here the mob cheered and shouted, "True! true!" and they struck the table till the gla.s.ses broke, roaring, "She is right, brothers. Are we not strong? Can we not right ourselves? Why should we go begging to a council? May the devil take all the covetous, rich knaves, who drink the people's blood!"

_Illa_.--"But may be they wanted a prince--eh? The prince was the shepherd, the council only the dog who bit the sheep as his master commanded. Eh, children? is not a prince a fine thing, to squeeze the sweat and life-blood out of ye, and turn it into gold for himself? For what are his riches but your sweat and blood, if ye reflect on it; and is it a sin to take your own? Methinks if all princes were killed or banished, and their goods divided amongst the people, ye would all have enough. Have ye not heard of that brotherhood who set all princes and governments at defiance for two hundred years, and lived like brothers amongst themselves, dividing all goods alike, so that they were called Like-dealers; and no beggar was found amongst them, for they had all things in common. [Footnote: These Like-dealers were the communists of the Middle Ages, and were for a number of years the plague of the northern seas; until at the beginning of the fifteenth century they were subdued, and many of them captured by the Dutch, who nailed them up in barrels, leaving an aperture for the head, at top, and then decapitated them. The best account of them is found in "Raumer's Historical Note-book," vol. ii. p. 19. And if any one wishes to see the result of communist teaching, they have only to study here the horrible excesses to which it leads.

The communism of the apostolic age might have been suited to a period in which it would be difficult to say whether faith or love predominated most; but even then it by no means prevented the existence of extreme poverty, for we read frequently in the Acts and Epistles of the _collections_ made for the Christian churches. But in our faithless, loveless, selfish, sin-drowned century, such an attempt at community of goods would not only annihilate all morality completely, but absolutely degrade us back from civilisation and modern Catholicism into the rudest and most meagre barbarism. The apostles of such doctrines now must speak, though perhaps unconsciously, from the sole inspiration of Satan, like Sidonia. The progress of humanity is not to be furthered by such means. Let our merchants no longer degrade human beings into machines for their factories, nor our princes degrade them into automaton puppets for their armies, but of men make _living men_. And the strong energy, the stern will, the vital spiritual power that will thus be awakened, will and must produce the regeneration of humanity.] Wherefore can ye not be Like-dealers also? Are there not rich enough for ye to kill? And if ye are united, who can withstand you? Look at the dog and the cattle--how the poor stupid beasts let themselves be driven, and bit, and beaten, just because they are used to it; but, lo! if the cattle should all turn their horns against the dog and the shepherd, what becomes of my fine pair? So is it with the Prince and his council. Oh, if ye were only united! Fling off the parsons too, for they are prime movers of all your misery. Do they not teach you, and teach you from your youth up, that ye must have princes and priests? Eh, brothers, where is that written in the Scriptures?

"Doth not St. Peter say (1st Epistle, chap, ii.), 'Ye are a royal priesthood'? What then! if ye are kings, princes, and priests yourselves, must ye needs pay for other kings, princes, and priests? Can ye not govern yourselves? can ye not pray for yourselves? In my opinion, yes! Doth not the same St. Peter likewise call ye 'a chosen people,' 'a people of inheritance;'

but, I pray you, where is your inheritance?--poor beggars as ye are--to whom neither priest nor prince will give one can of beer.

Ha! go, I tell you--take back your kingship, your priesthood, your inheritance. Become Like-dealers, brothers, even as the early Christians, who had all things in common, before the greed of priest or prince had robbed them of all. Like-dealers!

Like-dealers! run, run--kill, slay, strike all dead, and never rest until ye drown the last priest in the blood of the last prince!"

As the hag thus spoke, through the horrible inspiration of Satan, the pa.s.sions of the mob rose to frenzy, and they rushed out and joined the bands in the streets, and the crowds that poured from every door; and as they repeated her words from one to the other the frenzy spread (for they were like oil to fire). But the hag with the black plaster on her nose, when she saw herself left alone in the chamber, looked out after them, and laughed, and danced, and clapped her hands.

Now the Prince and court had withdrawn to Colbatz for safety, and a council was summoned in all haste and anxiety. The water-gate was barred likewise, to prevent a junction with the people of Lastadie and Wiek, but the townspeople, who had gathered in immense crowds, broke it in, and joining with the others, proceeded to storm the council-hall, where the honourable council were then sitting. They shouted, roared, menaced, and seizing the clerk, Claude Lorenz, in the chamber, murdered him before the very eyes of the burgomasters, and flung the body out of the window; then rushing down the steps again, proceeded along the corn-market, and by the high street into the horse-market, where they sacked three breweries from the roof to the cellar; and dragging out the barrels, staved in the bottom, and drank out of their hats and caps, shouting, roaring, singing, and dancing, while they swilled the good beer; so that the sight was a scandal to G.o.d and man.

And the uproar waxed stronger and stronger throughout that whole night. Not a word of remonstrance or expostulation will the people listen to; they threaten to hang up the messengers of the honourable council, and show no respect even to a mandate from his Highness, under his own seal and hand, which a horseman brings them. They laugh, mock, fling it into the gutter, sack more breweries, and by ten of the clock, just as the citizens are going to church, they number ten bands strong.

So my worthy father-in-law, Dr. Cramer, with the dean and archdeacon of St Mary's, stood upon the steps at the church-door as the bells rung, and the mob rushed by to sack more breweries.

And he spoke friendly to the rioters--"They should stop and hear what the Word of G.o.d said about the uproar at Ephesus (Acts xix.)."

And some would, and some would not. What did they want with parsons? Strike all the parsons dead. They could play the priest for themselves, and forgive their own sins. Yet many went in, for it was the custom to attend the weekly preaching, and my worthy father-in-law, turning round, addressed them from the nave of the church--me-thinks they needed it!

One very beautiful comparison that he employed made a great impression, and brought many to reason. For he spoke of the bees, how, when they wander too far from the hive, they can be brought back by soft, sweet melody, and so might this wild and wandering human swarm be brought back to the true hive by the soft and thrilling melody of G.o.d's holy Word. Then for conclusion he read the princely mandate from the altar; but at this the uproar recommenced, and they ran shouting and screaming out of the church, and to their wild work again, staving in the barrels and drinking the beer; and they insulted a magistrate that spoke mildly to them, and said if they would be quiet, he would try and have the tax removed. So they raged like the bands of Korah and Abiram; wanted to kill every one, all the rich, and divide their goods; for their riches were their blood and sweat. They would drag the four guilds to the council-hall, and the chief burgomasters, and hang them all up, and afterwards the honourable council, and all the priests, &c. So pa.s.sed the first and second day.

On the third morning by six of the clock, his Highness Duke Philip, with all his suite, drove in six coaches from Colbatz up to the Oderstra.s.se, galloping into the middle of the crowd of noisy, drunken rioters, who thronged the gra.s.s-market as thick as bees in a swarm.

He wished to pa.s.s on quickly to the castle, but could not, so he had to see and hear for himself how the insurrection raged, and the mob surrounded the coach of his Highness with loud cries, in which nothing could be heard distinctly, but on one side "Kill him!" and on the other, "Let him go!" This made Bishop Francis wild with anger, and he wanted to jump out of the coach and beat back the people, but Duke Philip gently restrained him. "See you not," he said, "the people are sick? Hot words will increase their sickness." Then he motioned to Mag. Reutzio, the court chaplain, who sat in the coach, to admonish the crowd.

But the moment the reverend M. Reutzio put his head out of the window to address them, the people shouted, "Down with the parson!

what is he babbling for. Dr. Cramer told us all that yesterday. We want no parsons; kill them! kill them! Down with priests! down with princes!" And they sprang upon the horses to cut the traces, but the coachman and outriders slashed away right and left with their horsewhips, so that the mob recoiled; and then with loud shouts of "Make way! make way!" the coachman lashed his horses forward into a gallop.

But behold, as they crossed the Shoe-stra.s.se, a coa.r.s.e, thick-set woman knelt by the kennel with her daughter, a half-grown girl, and they were drinking beer from a barrel like calves. This same woman was knocked down by the foremost horse, so that she fell into the gutter. Hereat she roared and cursed his princely Grace, and flung the beer-can at him, but it fell upon the horse, who grew wild, and dashed off in a mad gallop across the Shoe-stra.s.se into the Pelzerstra.s.se, and up to the castle without pausing, where a large crowd had already collected.

If the sovereign people had been wild before, they were ten times more wild now, and ran to try and get into the castle after his Highness; but the Duke ordered the gates to be closed. He, finding that the courts and corridors were already filled with the members of the venerable council, and three hundred of the militia, bade the men stand to their arms, load the heavy artillery, and erect the blood-standard on the tower, while he and the princes, with the honourable members, considered what could best be done in this grave and dangerous crisis. Whereupon he bade the council attend him in the state banqueting-hall.

Now the honourable council declared they were ready to part life and limb for their liege lord and the ill.u.s.trious house of Pomerania, according to the terms of their oath; but the burghers would not. For when Duke Philip asked, would not the burghers go forth, and help to disperse this armed and unruly mob, the militia made sundry objections, and set forth numerous difficulties.

Whereupon Bishop Francis started up, and exclaimed, "Brother, I pray thee, do not stoop to conciliate the people! If ye know not how to die, I can go forth and die for all--since it has come to this." And he rose to depart.

But his Highness seized him by the hand, and entreated patience yet for one hour more. Then he turned to the militia, and again admonished them of their duty, and bid them remember the oath; but they answered sharply, "Why the devil should we go forth and shoot our brothers, neighbours, and friends? They are more to us than all." _Item_, they recapitulated their objections and difficulties.

Hereupon his Highness exclaimed, "Alas! how comes it that my good people of Stettin are so unruly? If the Stralsunders indeed had risen, I would say nothing, but my dear Stettiners, who have ever been so true and loyal, holding to their province through all adversities, and now--ah! that I should live to see this day!"

Then Bishop Francis spake--"Truly, our good Stettiners are to be known no longer. Were it possible to bewitch a whole people, I would say this witch-devil of Marienfliess had done it. For in all Pomeranian land was it ever heard that the people refused obedience to their Prince as the burgher militia here have dared to refuse this day?"

Just then the evil tidings arrived that the mob were sacking the house of one of the chiefs of the council, whereupon his Highness Duke Philip called out again, "Will ye stand by me or not? Here is no time for hesitation, but action. Will ye follow me? Speak, lieges!"

Hereat a couple of hundred voices responded "Yes, yes;" but the "yes" fell as dull and cold upon the ear as the clang of a leaden bell.

However, Bishop Francis instantly exclaimed, "Good! Go then, all of ye, to the armoury, and arm yourselves with speed. Meanwhile I shall see to the loading of the cannon in the castle court. Then whosoever among you is for G.o.d and the Prince, follow me to victory or death."

But Duke Philip interposed. "Not so, dear brother; not so, my good lieges; let us try first what reconciliation will do, for they are my erring children."

And though Duke Francis was sore displeased and impatient, yet my gracious Prince despatched his chief equerry, Andreas Ehlers, as herald to the people, dressed in complete armour, and with a drawn sword in his hand, accompanied by three trumpeters, to read a new princely proclamation to the people.

So the herald rode first to the gra.s.s-market, and when the trumpet sounded, the people stood still and listened, whereupon he read the following proclamation, in a loud voice:--

"The Serene and Ill.u.s.trious Prince and Lord, Lord Philip, Duke of Stettin, Pomerania, Ca.s.suben, and Wenden, Prince of Rugen, Count of Gutzkow, and Lord of the lands of Lauenburg and Butow, our gracious Prince, Seigneur, and Lord, hereby commandeth all present, from Lastadie, Wiek, Dragern, and other places a.s.sembled, to lay down their arms, and retire each man to his own home in peace and quietness, without offering further molestation to his loyal lieges, burghers, and citizens, on pain of severe punishment in person and life, and deprivation of all wonted privileges.

Further, if they have aught of complaint against the honourable council or burgesses, let them bring the same before his Highness himself. Meanwhile the quart of beer, until further orders, shall be reduced to its original price, as agreed on yesterday in council, and be sold henceforth for one Stralsund shilling.

"Signatum, Old Stettin, the 18th July, 1616.

"PHILIPPUS, _manu sua_."

When the herald had finished reading, and shown the princely signature and seal to the ringleaders, a great murmur arose among the crowd, of which, however, the herald took no heed, but rode on to the horse-market, where he likewise read the proclamation, and so on through the princ.i.p.al thorough-fares. Then he returned to the gra.s.s-market, but lo! not a soul was to be seen; the crowds had all dispersed, and quietness reigned everywhere. Whereupon the herald rode joyfully to the horse-market, to see if the like had happened there, and truly peace had returned here too. And all along the princ.i.p.al streets where the proclamation had been read, the people were thoroughly subdued by this princely clemency and authority.

So when the herald returned to the castle, and related the success of his mission, the tears filled the eyes of his Grace Duke Philip, and taking his lord brother by the hand, he exclaimed, "See, dear Francis, how true are the words of Cicero, '_Nihil tam populare quam bonitas_.'" [Footnote: (Nothing so popular as kindness.)] Then they both went forth and walked arm in arm throughout the town, and wherever his Grace saw any group still gathered round the beercans, he told them to be content, for the beer should be sold to them at the Stralsund shilling. And thus the riot was quelled, and the town returned to its accustomed quietness and order.

Now truly the same Cicero says, "_In imperita muit.i.tudine est varietas et inconstantia et crebra tanquam tempestatum, sic sententiarum commutatio_." [Footnote: (The senseless mult.i.tude are changeful and inconstant as the weather, and their opinions suffer as many mutations.)]

CHAPTER X.

_Of the fearful events that take place at Marienfliess--Item, bow Dorothea Stettin becomes possessed by the devil._

Meanwhile Satan hath not been less busy at Marienfliess in Sidonia's absence, than at Old Stettin in her presence. But he cunningly changed his mode of action, not to be recognised, and truly Dorothea Stettin was the first he practised on. For having recovered from her sickness, she one day presented herself at church in the nun's choir as usual; but while joining in the closing hymn, she suddenly changed colour, began to sob and tremble in every limb, then continued the chant in a strange, uncertain voice, sometimes treble, sometimes ba.s.s, like that of a lad whose beard is just beginning to grow. At this the abbess and the sisterhood listened and stared in wonder, then asked if the dear sister had fallen ill again?

"No," she answered gruffly, "she only wanted to be married. She was tired of playing the virgin. Did the abbess know, perchance, of any one who would suit her as bridegroom? For she must and would be married!"