Simplicissimus (45 page)

He wanted to run away, but he was afraid of my musket, so he fell to his knees and offered to lead me through the forest. We set off quickly and walked all that day and the following night – fortunately the moon was very bright – without eating, drinking or resting until we came into sight of Villingen about daybreak, when I sent the labourer back. It was fear that had kept him going, but I was driven by the desire to save my skin and my money. It almost made me think that gold must give a man great strength, for although it was very heavy I didn’t feel especially tired.

I looked on it as a favourable omen that the gate was just being opened when I reached the town. The officer of the watch questioned me. I told him I was a volunteer trooper, from the regiment in which Herzbruder had put me when he released me from the infantry in Philippsburg, who had been captured by the Weimar troops at Wittenweier and forced to serve in their army. Now I was trying to get back to my regiment in the Bavarian army. When he heard this the officer told a musketeer to take me to the commandant. He was still sleeping, having been up half the night on business, so that I had to spend an hour and a half waiting outside his quarters. It was the time of early mass and a crowd of townspeople and soldiers soon gathered round me, all wanting to know how things stood at Breisach. Eventually the noise woke the commandant, who had me brought to him.

He questioned me again and I repeated the statement I had given at the gate. After that he asked for details about the siege and what I had done since, so I told him the truth, namely that I had spent a couple of weeks with another escaped soldier and that we had attacked and robbed a coach carrying the family of a Weimar officer, intending to get enough to buy mounts so that we could return to our regiments properly equipped. But, I went on, the previous day we had been attacked by a corporal and six musketeers who had been sent out to arrest us. My comrade and six of them had been killed; I and the seventh had run off, each to rejoin his own side.

I didn’t say a word about the fact that I was trying to get to my wife in Lippstadt or about my well-lined vests, and I had no qualms about it. What business was it of his after all? Anyway, he didn’t ask. Instead he expressed his astonishment that Oliver and I had accounted for six men and put the seventh to flight. He found it hard to believe, even though my comrade had paid for it with his life. At this I started telling him all about Oliver’s sword, which I was wearing. He liked it so much that I felt obliged, especially if I wanted to get a pass, to give it to him in exchange for one he gave me in return. It was a truly excellent sword, fine and strong, with a perpetual calendar etched on the blade. I believe it must have been forged
in hora Martis
by Vulcan himself and so treated that, like the one described in the
Treasury of Heroes
, it could shatter all other blades and send the most intrepid, lion-hearted enemy running for cover like a timorous mouse. When he dismissed me, having ordered a pass to be written out, I went straight to the inn but I couldn’t make up my mind which to do first, sleep or eat. I had great need of both but I eventually decided to satisfy the demands of my belly first and ordered something to eat and drink. I wondered what I was going to do to get myself and my money safely to my wife in Lippstadt for I no more intended to rejoin my regiment than to chop off my own head.

While I was thus pondering, a man hobbled into the room, supporting himself with a stick. He had a bandage round his head, his arm in a sling and was dressed in such rags I wouldn’t have given a farthing for them. As soon as the servant saw him he tried to throw him out because the beggar gave off a foul stench and was crawling with lice. He begged to be allowed to warm himself a little but got nowhere until I took pity and spoke up for him, at which he was grudgingly allowed to sit by the stove. I could feel his eyes fixed on me, watching me greedily as I tucked in and sighing. When the servant went to fetch my roast he came over to my table, holding out a cheap earthenware cup. It was obvious why he had approached me so I took my jug and filled his cup before he asked. ‘Oh friend’, he said, ‘for your Herzbruder’s sake give me something to eat as well.’ When he said that it cut me to the heart, for I could see now that it was Herzbruder himself. I almost fainted to see him in such a wretched state, but I kept a hold on myself, embraced him and made him sit next to me, at which we both burst into tears, I out of pity, he for joy.

This unexpected meeting meant that we scarcely ate or drank anything as each asked the other what had happened since the last time we were together. However, because the landlord and servant kept bustling to and fro, we could not discuss private matters. The landlord was surprised I let such a lice-ridden fellow join me, but I told him that was the way any decent soldier would treat a comrade in wartime. When I learnt that Herzbruder had been in the hospice until now, living on alms, and saw how badly his wounds had been dressed, I hired a room for him from the landlord and sent for the best surgeon I could find, as well as a tailor and seamstress to clothe him and clear him of lice. I had the doubloons Oliver had taken from the dead Jew’s mouth in a little bag and I emptied it out on the table and said, in the landlord’s hearing, ‘Look, brother, that’s my money and we’re going to spend it together’, as a result of which the landlord looked after us very well. I showed the ruby, which had also come from the above-mentioned Jew and was worth about twenty thalers, to the barber-surgeon and told him that I had to keep what money I had for our board and lodging and clothes for my comrade but that I would give him the ring if he would cure my friend quickly and completely. He was happy with the arrangement and did his best for Herzbruder.

I looked after him as if he were my other self and had a suit of plain grey clothes made for him. First of all, however, I went to see the commandant about my pass. I told him I had come across a comrade who had been badly wounded and that I wanted to wait until he was completely healed since I owed it to my regiment not to leave him behind in such a state. The commandant praised me for this and gave me permission to stay as long as I wanted, also promising that when my comrade was fit enough to go he would provide both of us with the appropriate passes.

That having been done, I went back to Herzbruder, sat down beside his bed and, as we were now alone, asked him to tell me, openly and frankly, how he came to be in such a miserable state. I thought he might perhaps have been removed from his lofty position, stripped of his rank and plunged into his present wretched state because of some grave error or piece of negligence, but he said, ‘As you know, I was Count Götz’s aide-de-camp and intimate personal friend. You will also know how badly this last campaign, in which he had overall command, went for us. We not only lost the Battle of Wittenweier but were unable to lift the siege of Breisach. Because of all the unjust rumours that are flying about and because the Count has been summoned to Vienna to answer his critics, I have deliberately adopted this low condition out of both shame and fear. I often wish I could either die in it or at least remain hidden until Count Götz has proved his innocence, for as far as I know he has always been loyal to the Emperor. The fact that he had no luck at all last summer has, in my opinion, more to do with divine providence, which grants victory as it sees fit, than to the Count’s negligence.

While we were trying to relieve Breisach and I saw how sluggishly things were going on our side, I armed myself and joined in the attack on the pontoon bridge, charging as if I intended to lift the siege on my own. This was neither my business nor my duty; I did it to set an example and because we had achieved so little during the whole summer. As luck, or rather bad luck would have it, I was among the first that came face to face with the enemy on the bridge, where things got pretty hot. Being the first in the attack meant I was last in the retreat when the furious onslaught of the French forced us back, and so the first to fall into the hands of the enemy. I received a shot in my right arm and another in my thigh so that I could neither run nor use my sword. Since space was too cramped and the fighting too fierce for much negotiation about quarter I got a crack over the head which sent me tumbling to the ground, and as I was dressed in fine clothes I was rapidly stripped naked and thrown for dead into the Rhine.

In this plight I cried out to God, putting all my reliance on Him, and as I made various vows I felt Him come to my aid: the Rhine washed me up on shore, where I plugged my wounds with moss, and although nearly freezing to death, I felt a particular strength within me, sufficient to crawl away. With God’s assistance I came, badly wounded as I was, to a band of Merode’s Brethren and soldier’s wives who all took pity on me, even though they did not know me. They told me it was very doubtful the siege would be lifted, which hurt me more than my wounds. They took me to their fire, where they revived me and gave me some clothes, and even before I had got round to bandaging up my wounds I saw that our side was giving up the attack for lost and preparing for an ignominious retreat. I was so upset by this that I decided not to tell anyone who I was, in order to avoid any mockery. I joined a group of wounded from our army who had their own surgeon and gave him a gold cross I still had round my neck, for which he treated my wounds until we got here.

In this wretched state I have survived so far, Simplicius, and I intend to keep my identity secret until I see what happens to Count Götz. Your kindness and loyal friendship are a great comfort to me and a token that God has not abandoned me. When I came out of early mass this morning and saw you standing outside the commandant’s quarters it seemed to me God had sent you instead of one of his angels to help me in my time of need.’

I comforted Herzbruder as well as I could. I told him I had more money than the doubloons he had seen and that it was all at his disposal. I also told him about Oliver’s death and the way I had avenged it. This news cheered him up, which also improved his physical state, so that his wounds began to heal visibly with every day.

When Herzbruder had recovered his strength and his wounds healed he told me that in his hour of need he had vowed to make a pilgrimage to Einsiedeln and since he was now so close to Switzerland he was determined to go ahead with it, even if it meant begging his way there. I was attracted by this idea and offered him money and my company, indeed, I was all for going straight out to buy two horses for the journey. It wasn’t piety that made me want to go, but my desire to see the Swiss Confederation, that being the only country where peace could still be found. I loved Herzbruder almost more than myself and was delighted at the thought of being able to help him on his journey. However he rejected both my assistance and my company, saying he had to do the journey on foot, and with dried peas in his shoes. If I were to accompany him I would not only distract him from his devotions but would find his slow, laborious pace very tedious.

His real reason for trying to get rid of me, however, was because he had qualms about using money that had been gained by robbery and murder for such a sacred journey. On top of that he did not want to put me to too great an expense and told me candidly that I had already done more than I owed or that he thought he could ever repay. That set off a charmingly friendly argument, the like of which I have never heard before. Each of us maintained he had not done as much for the other as a friend should, that he had not even had the chance to make up for the good turns he had received from the other. All this did nothing to persuade him to accept me as a travelling companion until I realised it was both Oliver’s money and my ungodliness that disgusted him. So I had recourse to lies and convinced him it was my desire to mend my ways that made me want to go to Einsiedeln, arguing that if he prevented me from carrying out this good intention and I were then to die, he would bear a heavy responsibility. This persuaded him to allow me to visit the holy place with him, especially as I made a great show of regret for my wicked life (although it was all a lie) and convinced him I too had resolved to do penance by walking to Einsiedeln with my boots full of dried peas.

This squabble was scarcely finished than another broke out. Herzbruder was far too conscientious. He wouldn’t have it that I should accept a pass from the commandant which stated I was going to rejoin my regiment. ‘But we’re going to Einsiedeln’, he said, ‘ with the intention of leading better lives, aren’t we? And you want to start out with deceit, throwing dust in people’s eyes? Did not Christ say, “He that denieth me before men shall be denied before the angels of God.” What a pair of faint hearts we are. If all those who professed the faith or were martyred in Christ’s name had behaved in the same way, how few saints there would be in heaven! Let us entrust ourselves to God’s protection and in His name follow our devout purpose and desires. If we leave everything to Him, He will lead us where our souls will find peace.’ I objected that one should not presume upon God’s will but accept the world as it was and use any means that were necessary. Going on pilgrimage was rather unusual among soldiers, and if we revealed our plan we were more likely to be arrested as deserters. I also pointed out that the Apostle Paul, with whom we could not begin to compare ourselves, had adapted to the customs of his times, and eventually he agreed I should take a pass stating I was going to join my regiment. Using this, we left the town just as the gates were being shut, taking a man we could trust to guide us. We set off in the direction of Rottweil, but soon turned off on by-ways, crossed the Swiss frontier during the night and came to a village the following morning where we kitted ourselves out with long black robes, pilgrim’s staffs and rosaries and paid off the guide.