Simplicissimus (20 page)
My master’s secretary, who was an evil customer and a real rogue, gave me a lot of material to keep me well supplied on the road we fools take. I did not just believe the things this joker told me, I passed them on to others when the conversation turned that way. Once I asked him what kind of person the regimental chaplain was, since he dressed differently from the others. He said, ‘He is Sir Dicis-et-non-facis, which in plain German means a fellow who gives wives to other men but does not take one himself; he loathes thieves because they do not talk about what they do while he talks about things he does not do; the thieves are not very fond of him either since it is usually when they are being hanged that they have most to do with that kind of person.’ Later on I called the chaplain, who was a good honest priest, by that name and he was mocked while I was thought a nasty, malicious fool and given a thrashing for it.
He also persuaded me that they had torn down and burnt the brothels behind the walls in Prague and the sparks and soot had been blown all over the world, like dandelion seeds, setting it on fire; likewise that none of the brave or stout-hearted soldiers would go to heaven but the simpletons, malingerers and other such whose only military act was to draw their pay; similarly no fashionable cavaliers or gallant ladies but only spineless weaklings, henpecked husbands, tedious monks, joyless priests, pious old bigots, poverty-stricken whores and all kinds of scum who are no use to anyone, as well as young children still crapping all over the benches. He further told me that innkeepers were so called because of all men they were the ones who tried most to keep in with both God and the devil. Talking of warfare, he managed to convince me that they sometimes used gold cannonballs and the more valuable the cannonball the more damage it did. ‘Yes’, he said, ‘you could lead a whole captured army, artillery, munitions and baggage included, by gold chains.’ He also persuaded me that more than half the women wore trousers, although one could not see them, and that many, although they could not perform magic spells and were not goddesses like Diana, made bigger horns grow on their husbands’ heads than Actaeon had. I was such a stupid fool that I believed everything he said.
On the other hand the conversation of my tutor when he was alone with me was of a completely different nature. He introduced me to his son who, as I mentioned earlier, was a company clerk in the Saxon army and a man of quite different qualities from the colonel’s secretary. For that reason the colonel was well disposed towards him and was thinking of getting the captain to release him and making him regimental secretary, a post on which his own secretary also had his eye.
I got on so well with this company clerk who, like his father, was called Ulrich Herzbruder, that we swore eternal friendship, vowing to stand by one another through thick and thin, in joy and sorrow. The fact that this was done with his father’s knowledge made us stick even more firmly to our bond. After that our chief concern was to find a way of allowing me to get rid of my fool’s costume honourably so we could be on an equal footing in public. Old Herzbruder, however, whom I revered and looked up to as if he were my own father, was not in favour of this. He said that if I was in too much of a hurry to change my situation I would end up in prison and in danger of my life. He also foresaw great disgrace approaching for himself and his son which made him more cautious than ever and unwilling to get involved in the affairs of a person whose imminent danger he could see all too clearly. He was afraid that if I revealed the truth about myself he might be drawn into my misfortune because he had known my secret for a long time, had known me inside and out, so to speak, but had not revealed it to the colonel.
Shortly after this it became even clearer to me that the colonel’s secretary was violently jealous of my new brother because he was afraid he might be appointed to the post of regimental secretary over his head. I saw how at times he sulked, how resentment plagued him, and I noticed that he fell into deep thought and kept on sighing whenever he saw either of the Herzbruders. I was sure he was making plans to bring about his downfall. I told my brother of my suspicions, both out of affection and because of the debt I owed him, to put him on his guard against this Judas. He, however, shrugged them off, knowing he was the secretary’s superior with both pen and sword and, besides, being in the colonel’s good books.
It is the custom in the army to appoint old and well-tried soldiers to the position of provost-sergeant, and we had one in our regiment. He was such an out-an-out rascal, an arch-villain, that you could well say he was much more experienced than necessary. He was a true sorcerer and black magician who knew a spell for finding out thieves and another to make not only himself as bullet-proof as steel, but others too. He could also put whole squadrons of troopers in the field and looked just as poets and painters represent Saturn, though without scythe and bill-hook. Although his constant presence added to the misery of the poor troopers who fell into his cruel hands, there were people who enjoyed the company of this killjoy, foremost among them being Oliver, the colonel’s secretary. The more his envy of young Herzbruder (who was of a very cheerful disposition) grew, the thicker his intimacy with the provost-sergeant became. I had no problem calculating that the conjunction of Saturn and Mercury boded no good for honest Herzbruder.
Just at that time the colonel’s wife gave birth to a son. The christening feast was almost princely and young Herzbruder was asked to wait at table. He was happy to do the colonel this favour and that gave Oliver the chance of putting into effect the scheme he had long since had in mind. When it was all over the colonel missed his silver-gilt goblet, which he thought it was unlikely he had mislaid since it had still been there after all the guests had left. The page said that he thought the last time he saw it Oliver had it, but he would not swear to it. The provost-sergeant was consulted and ordered that if he could recover the goblet by magic he should do it in such a way that the thief would be revealed to the colonel alone. Some officers from his own regiment had been present and, he said, if one of them had perhaps let himself be tempted he would not want to shame him publicly.
Since we were all sure of our innocence, we laughed and joked as we came into the colonel’s great tent where the sorcerer was to perform his magic. We all looked at each other, wanting to know what was going to happen and where the lost goblet would reappear. Then the sorcerer muttered a few words and puppies started to jump out of people’s pockets, sleeves, boots, flies and any other openings in their dress, one, two, three or more at a time. They were all very handsome, with different colours and markings, and it was a hilarious sight to see them scurrying here and there round the tent. The tight calfskin breeches that the Czech arquebusiers had made for me were so full of puppies that I had to take them off and since my shirt had disintegrated long ago in the forest I stood there naked. Finally one leapt out of young Herzbruder’s flies. It was wearing a gold collar and it was the nimblest of them all. The tent was so full of puppies scrabbling round we couldn’t move without treading on them, but the one from Herzbruder’s breeches ate them all up. And when it had finished it grew smaller and smaller while its collar grew bigger and bigger until it turned into the colonel’s goblet.
Then not only the colonel but everyone present was forced to the conclusion that no one other than Herzbruder had stolen the goblet. The colonel said to him, ‘You ungrateful fellow! I would never have believed it of you. Is this the reward for all the kindness I have shown you? I was going to appoint you regimental secretary in the morning, now you deserve to be hanged this very evening. And I would do it, too, if it wasn’t for your honest old father. Get out of my camp right away and never let me see your face again.’
Herzbruder tried to defend himself but did not get a hearing since his guilt appeared self-evident. As he left, his father collapsed unconscious and it took all our efforts to bring him round and even the colonel tried to comfort him, saying that a God-fearing father should not have to answer for the sins of his son. That was how Oliver used the devil’s help to obtain the position he had long been striving for but had not been able to get by honest means.
As soon as the captain heard the story he removed Ulrich Herzbruder from his post as company clerk and put him with the pikemen. From that time on he was so generally despised that any dog might piss on him and he often wished he were dead. His father was so stricken with grief over the affair that he fell seriously ill and prepared himself for death. Since he had previously prophesied that he would face danger to life and limb on the 26th of July and that day was close at hand, he obtained permission from the colonel for his son to visit him so that he could talk to him about his inheritance and give him his last will and testament.
I was also present at the meeting and both witnessed and shared their sorrow. I saw that the son did not need to justify himself to his father. He knew what kind of person his son was and how well brought up, and he was convinced of his innocence. As a man of profound understanding and insight, he had no difficulty deducing from the circumstances that it was Oliver who had conspired with the provost-sergeant to concoct the predicament his son was in. But what could he do against a sorcerer? If he attempted to avenge himself he could expect even worse. Moreover he was making himself ready for death and yet could not die happy knowing he would leave his son behind in such disgrace. His son, for his part, could not face living with the shame and wanted to die before his father. Their grief was so heart-rending I could not hold back my tears.
Eventually the two of them agreed to bear their cross patiently and put their trust in God. The son, however, ought to think of ways of quitting the regiment and seeking his fortune elsewhere, but the problem was that they had no money for him to buy himself out. It was only while they were bemoaning the way poverty kept them imprisoned in their plight, cut off from all hope of improvement, that I remembered the ducats I still had sewn up in my donkey’s ears. I asked them how much they needed. ‘If someone came along with a hundred thalers for us’, the son replied, ‘I am sure it would solve all our troubles.’
‘Then cheer up, brother’, I replied. ‘If that is what you need I will give you a hundred ducats.’
‘What is this, brother?’ he said, ‘Are you really a fool to make a joke out of our misery?’
‘No, no’, I said, ‘I will supply the money.’ I took off my jerkin, slipped one of the donkey’s ears off my arm and made him count out a hundred ducats himself and put them in his pocket. The rest I kept, saying, ‘This I will use to look after your father, if he needs it.’
They threw their arms around me and kissed me; they were so overjoyed they hardly knew what they were doing. They wanted to draw up a document making me joint heir to old Herzbruder along with his son, or a note to the effect that, if God should help them to recover their estate, they would gratefully pay me back the sum with interest. I refused both offers, trusting in their constant friendship. Then young Herzbruder wanted to swear an oath to have his revenge on Oliver or die, but his father forbade it, telling him that the man who killed Oliver would die at my hands. ‘But’, he said, ‘I am sure that neither of you will kill the other since I foresee that neither will be killed by weapons.’ After that he made us swear an oath to love each other till death and stand by each other in all adversity.
Young Herzbruder bought himself an honourable discharge from the captain with thirty ducats. With the rest, and a measure of good fortune, he made his way to Hamburg where he equipped himself with two horses and enlisted in the Swedish army as a volunteer trooper, leaving our father in my care.
There was no one among the colonel’s men better suited to care for old Herzbruder than I and so, since the patient himself was also more than happy with me, the colonel’s wife, who showed him much kindness, gave me the job of nursing him. Being well looked after and also relieved of his worry about his son, the old man’s health improved daily so that he was almost completely recovered before the 26th of July. However, he so dreaded that day that he decided to remain on the sick list until it was past. In the meantime he was visited by all kinds of officers from both armies who wanted to know what the future held for them. As he was a good mathematician and expert at casting horoscopes as well as being an excellent palmist and physiognomist his prophecies were seldom wrong. He even predicted the date of the Battle of Wittstock because he told so many who came to him they were threatened with a violent death on that day.
He had told the colonel’s wife, six weeks before she was due, that she would have her baby in the camp because Magdeburg would not fall to us before that time. He made it clear to the treacherous Oliver, who insisted on pestering him, that he would die a violent death, adding that whenever and wherever it happened, I would avenge it and kill his murderer, with the result that from then on Oliver treated me with respect. He told me the whole course of my future life in great detail, as if it were past and he had been with me all the time. I paid little attention however and later on I remembered things he had predicted after they had occurred. Above all, he warned me to beware of water because he was afraid it might bring about my end.
When the 26th arrived he warned me and an orderly the colonel had sent at his request not to let anyone into his tent. He lay in bed and spent all the time in prayer. In the afternoon, however, a lieutenant from the cavalry camp rode over asking for the colonel’s equerry. He was directed to us and when we turned him away he refused to accept it and made all sorts of promises to the orderly to let him in to the equerry whom, he said, he urgently had to see before that evening. When that didn’t work he started swearing and blinding. A pox on it but he had ridden over so many times to see the equerry and had never found him in; now that the old man was here, was he going to have to leave again without having had a single word with him? He dismounted and started unfastening the tent-flap. I tried to stop him and bit his hand, for which I got a good box on the ears. When he saw the old man he said, ‘I do beg you to forgive me, sir, for taking the liberty of coming to have a word with you.’