Severe Difficulties after my Marriage--My Labours and Success as a Law-Writer and Notary, and subsequently as a Procurator--An account of some of the Cases in which I was engaged

I trust my children may be enabled to read the following attentively and remember the same as my justification. They will learn that I devoted every moment to my work, and avoided all useless expense, that I kept away from the tavern, went but rarely to weddings or banquets, and only entertained guests when not to do so would have been unbecoming, as, for instance, on occasions of family feasts or of civic repasts. It is--thanks to that retired life, scarcely diversified by the rare indulgence of a favourite dish washed down by a copious libation--that I have been enabled to amass a sufficient competence to make the devil and his acolytes burst with envy. Their jealousy goes as far as to accuse me of having arrived very poor at Stralsund, and to have ransomed the city, magnified my travelling expenses, and abused the custody of the seals. This third part of the story of my life will explain the origin of my fortune. Stralsund has never been instrumental in making my position, and I have never proved false to my oath.

My monetary provision after my wedding consisted of Gottschalk's golden florin, hence, two florins of current coin; my savings and the gratifications were nothing more than a memory. I had nothing to expect from my father. We were in a bare and cold tenement we had rented; in default of a boiler my wife did the washing in an earthen jar. Without money and without a livelihood, I did not dare to ask my father-in-law for the promised two hundred florins, for he had warned me that it was my father's duty to begin paying up. I was obliged to listen to the humiliating words, "To get married without anything to live upon." My wife herself was getting fretful; a loaf of fine flour on our table set her grumbling as a luxury beyond our means. She said to her mother, "You did not advise me; you simply handed me over." A friend of her childhood, a burgomaster's daughter, had married a wealthy old man. Wallowing in luxury, the owner of two houses (I was his tenant), she overwhelmed us with jokes, and asked my wife what she intended to do with her swallow's tail, alluding to the sword I continued to wear.

What a deplorable beginning! God's help has, nevertheless, enabled me to provide during the space of forty-six years for my wants and those of my family. It was not a small affair, considering that the maintenance and starting in life of my children cost more than nine thousand florins, and my household, one year with another, three hundred florins. I, moreover, own a well appointed house, and am enabled to live ex fructibus pecuniae salvo capitali, and for the last forty-six years could truthfully say: "I am better off to-day than yesterday." And I have accomplished all this with my pen. Thanks be to the Lord.

The people of the city asked me to be their scribe. The richest grain merchant, a personage without merit save that of his money, dictated a long petition to me, intended for the sovereign. He was pleased with my editing and writing of it, and he asked me how much he owed me. As I did not care to accept any remuneration, he flung two schellings of Lubeck on the table, exclaiming, "Don't be an ass. Have you not got your paunch to fill?" From the lips of any one else this would have savoured of sarcasm, but that man meant no harm.

The public and private courses of the artistae, philosophi et jurisperiti of Greifswald could only be profitable to a scribe and notary; hence, I spent every available moment attending them. I hired a room in the priory building, and was there from morn till night, only going home to dine, and coming back immediately afterwards. My first clerk was the son of Master Peter Schwarz, but I could do nothing with him; then I took Martin Speckin, who by now is a rich young fellow. His Greifswald people brought him to me; part of his duty was to keep my room at the priory sufficiently heated, and to precede me with the lantern when I went out. He was a zealous servitor.

Meanwhile, I incurred everybody's criticism, and my wife showed her displeasure pretty openly. People, she said, thought it disgraceful for me to return to school once more. My maternal grandmother asked me if as yet I had not learnt to keep a family. The remarks did not affect me in the least. I continued attending the lectures of Joachim Moritz, and day by day it appeared to me I got a better understanding of the practice of law. My interest in useful literature also increased day by day. Crescit amor studii quantum ipsa scientia crescit. Not less true did the other proverb begin to appear: Crescit amor nummi quantum ipsa pecunia crescit. I also followed the public courses of Balthazar Rau, to-day Dr. Rau of the Libellus de anima of Philip Melanchthon. Nor was I ashamed to join his discipuli privati, to whom he expounded at his house the Dialectica of the same author. I felt very satisfied with myself for doing all this, and on February 19, 1552, the Imperial Chamber inscribed my name on the roll of its notaries, on the presentation of Duke Philip.

My eldest son saw the light on August 29 of the same year. The confinement was a most critical one, and through the midwife's blundering, he had a stiff neck for his life.^[66] On September 1 he was christened, and received the name of Johannes. His two godfathers were the burgomasters Gaspard Bunsow and Peter Gruwel, and his great-grandmother stood as his godmother. My eldest daughter, Catherine, was born on December 6, 1553, and christened the next day.^[67]

The wife of V. Prien, a daughter of the House of Maltzan, had taken possession of the fief of Schorsow, in virtue of the privilege accorded to noble damsels by the laws of Mecklenburg. When she died, and even before she was buried, the Maltzans of Mecklenburg violently invaded the fief. Joachim Maltzan, of Osten and of Nerung, who had helped his cousins by sending them reinforcements, was cited before the Imperial Chamber, in poenam fractae pacis. As he was most uneasy about the issue of the suit, Dr. B. vom Walde and Chancellor Citzewitz advised him to send me to Spires provided with counsel's opinion of Joachim Moritz. I complied with their wish, though the journey was exceedingly inconvenient to me. Joachim Maltzan provided me with two completely equipped horses, and the necessary funds; the chancellor and the doctor promised me a handsome gratification at my return. Instead of a servant, I took my brother Christian, and we started on the Sunday of Quasimodo (the Sunday after Easter). At Spires I fully instructed both procurator and advocate. The document drawn up by Moritz elicited their praise. They had no idea of the existence on the shores of the Baltic of a lawyer of that merit. They soon considered their client as being out of his difficulties, and, my mind at rest, I set out for my return journey to Pomerania.

I got there at Whitsuntide. When sending back the horses to Maltzan, I added my report, which put an end to his anxiety, and at the same time forwarded an account of my expenses day by day, the price of each meal, etc., leaving him to decide the amount of my honorarium. Well, the moment he felt reassured, Maltzan did not show the least inclination to settle with me; on the contrary, he accused me of having been too lavish. "Look at the fellow, and then consider the copious meals he took. May all the evils of Job befall thee." That was his favourite objurgation. In vain did I call to my aid the two counsellors who, as it were, had forced my hand. Maltzan turned a deaf ear to all my requests. At the beginning he would have given hundreds to get over his difficulties, but now he sang out, "I have broken the rope, and I do not care."

He was very rich, but very mean and coarse beyond description. One night at Wolgast, I saw him send his hose at bedtime to be repaired. When early next morning the tailor brought the garment back, he asked a florin for his work. Maltzan refused to give more than a schelling, and overwhelmed the poor wretch with curses. The latter had, however, to take what he could get. Maltzan, who could neither write nor read, was obliged to have a secretary, but in consequence of his avarice, he had to be content with mediocre individuals. Dr. Gentzkow found him one who was satisfied with earning his food and a small salary. After a couple of years, during which his master had dragged him about with him to Rostock and elsewhere, everybody knew him as Maltzan's servant. He knew all Maltzan's investments, as well as the dates of his revenues being due; it was he who stored away the money in linen bags. "Put a hundred crowns into each bag, and place them in a line," said Maltzan. "In that way, I can see at a glance where I am; ten bags make a thousand crowns." One fine morning the secretary stamped a blank sheet of paper with the seal of his employer, departed for Rostock, took on credit at the ordinary tradesman's as much velvet, satin and damask as he could conveniently carry away, filled in the blank sheet in his master's name, then returned and took from each bag only ten crowns in order to dissimulate his theft. After that he went collecting the outstanding debts, farmers' and tenants' rents, etc., and disappeared with a sum sufficient to remunerate a good secretary for a decade of years or more. Maltzan himself had the annoyance of having to make good the merchant's losses. He had never been married, and his property, amounting to a hundred thousand golden florins, fell to two cousins, who spent it in feasting, swilling, and riotous living. One died burdened with debt; the other is alive, but in a similar position. Ill-gotten goods do not last.

The only means of bringing Maltzan to book seemed to me to inform the Spires procurator of everything, and to ask him to write to Maltzan that he was going to lose his case in default of some documents that had remained in my possession. Duke Philip immediately recommended me to hand them over on the penalty of being held responsible for all the damages that might accrue. I promptly replied that I would bring them into court, where I should have the honour of presenting my respects to Signor Maltzan, and to claim at the same time the salary due to me. This had the effect of making the generous gentleman swear like a devil incarnate, to the vast joy and diversion of the prince and the counsellors, who took great pleasure in pouring oil upon the flames. Maltzan was obliged to count out to me there and then a hundred crowns, which was much more than I had originally asked, and he received, besides, a severe reprimand. My energy in the matter was fully acknowledged, and they added: "If ever we should ask you a similar service, you may refuse to render it without the fear of displeasing us."

The sacristan of MÜggenwald committed homicide. The lord of the manor, who wished to get him out of the trouble, entrusted the case to me. A relative of the victim had retained Dr. Nicholas Gentzkow and Christian Smiterlow for the prosecution. I obtained a verdict for the accused.

Dr. Johannes Knipstrow having announced from the pulpit, in the name and by order of the prince, that Master J. Runge was going to succeed him in the office of superintendent, the Greifswald council considered the nomination as an infringement of its rights. Its syndicus at Stralsund, Dr. Gentzkow, formulated before me, a public notary convened for the purpose, both a verbal and written protest, of the latter of which I delivered a duly executed duplicate to the council of Greifswald, the legitimate charge for the same being three crowns.

Bartholomew, of Greifswald, a most intelligent, but also an exceedingly depraved goldsmith, had established himself at Stralsund with his son-in-law, Nicholas Schladenteuffel. As their expenditure exceeded their income, Bartholomew made counterfeit coin, Lubeck, Rostock, Wismar and Stralsund currency. The schellings supposed to issue from the latter city's mint contained nothing but copper. By means of some tartaric composition he made them look so wonderfully like silver as to deceive everybody. In a very short time both the city and the country were inundated with this spurious coin, for Nicholas made large purchases of cattle for the slaughter-houses. Finally, in September 1552, when the farmers and peasantry came to pay their rent, the suspicions of the ducal land-steward were aroused, and the fraud discovered. The witnesses' depositions pointing unanimously to a cattle-dealer of Stralsund, the prince wrote to the council, asking it if they struck money of that description. At that very time Schladenteuffel was going his business rounds. Warning was given, and one morning, when he came back to the city with some cattle, he was apprehended and taken to prison, where his wife and five accomplices promptly joined him. Among the latter there was one of the vicious sedition-mongers mentioned in the first part of my recollections, namely, Nicholas Knigge. He was, in reality, the leader of the gang; he furnished both the copper and the silver, and he found an outlet in Sweden for sham silver, spoons, goblets, jugs, etc. Dr. Gentzkow, whose daughter he had married, had his sentence changed to one of lifelong banishment. Bartholomew, although the people who came to arrest him were close upon his heels, managed to escape.

In the Semmlow Strasse there lived a very rich merchant named C. Middleburgh. His sordid avarice kept him away from church. On the other hand, he carried on an extensive and harmful traffic. He exported Bogislaw schillings and other good coin; he also got hold of gold and silver pieces, and clipped those that appeared to him to be overweight. In spite of this, he did not benefit by his wealth. One day he took the Rostock coach, but instead of coming down at midday to dine with the other travellers, he had a sleep. When the company returned and while the ostler put in the horses, he asked the price of the meal. He was told it was two schellings. "Very well," he said; "I have earned two schellings by going to sleep." He was always ready to lend money on silver plate--of course at high interest. He lived and scraped money for many, many years. His widow continued his trafficking; she was, however, less cautious, and fell into the hands of scoundrels, who reduced her to beggary.

To come back to Middelburg. On October 28, 1552, at two in the afternoon, he found himself in possession of a big cask containing twelve barrels of gunpowder of twenty-four pounds each; hence in all weighing two hundred and eighty-eight pounds. Close to the cask there sat a young servant weaving some kind of woollen lace, and, as it was very cold, she had a small stove filled with charcoal under her feet. At that moment there appeared upon the scene old Tacke and made a payment of a hundred Bogislaw schellings, which, having been carefully counted by Middelburg, were left on the table while he went to the stable for a moment. During his short absence, the servant stirs the incandescent charcoal, a spark of which falls on the floor and ignites the grains of powder; the house and the next to it are blown up; walls, beams, rafters come crashing down with a horrible noise. The city imagines that the end of the world has arrived. Of the young girl herself they found a foot here, an arm there, a leg elsewhere, and fragments of flesh pretty well everywhere. It was never known what had become of the hundred schellings that were lying on the table or of the furniture. One servant-girl was dug out from the ruins without a hurt; she was more fortunate than the brother-in-law of the burgomaster of Riga. They managed to drag him out by sawing some rafters beneath which he was buried, but he died of his wounds on the third day. Two children, though stark dead when picked up, still held a slice of bread and butter in their tiny hands. Three persons from the country, a mother and daughter and the latter's intended husband, who had stopped before the house to make some purchases for their new home, were killed outright on the spot. There were in all seven people killed. The neighbours brought an action against Middelburg which he had to settle. Even as far as the Passen-strasse my father had the window of his entrance hall broken; the stove in one of the upper rooms cracked and could never be used again; a hook used for hanging the salmon to be smoked, and belonging to Middelburg, was found in the gutter on our roof.

The advice of some well-meaning people, and ever growing necessity caused me to make up my mind to practise as procurator at the Aulic Court of Wolgast, though Counsellor Joachim Moritz, who boarded with my uncle, tried to dissuade me. As a professor of law at Greifswald, a jurisconsult of the court, and an assessor of the tribunal, he had had some close experience of the idiocy, the ignorance, and the underhand methods of my future colleagues. "Procuratorum officium vilissimum est," he said to me. In fact, with the exception of Dr. Picht, the procurators were but little versed in grammatic vel jure. When their dean, who was a judge at Brandenburg, and a Mecklenburg counsellor, came up for his degree of licencti juris at Rostock, he referred to an insolvent litigant, "Non est solvendus," which provoked the repartee of the promoter: "Recte dicit dominus licentiandus, quia non est ligatus."

One day at Rostock we happened to take our dinner at the same table with this procurator and the burgomaster of Brandenburg who, however, was fairly well versed in the grammatica. The conversation turned on a witch who was in prison at Brandenburg, and who professed to be pregnant by the devil. The burgomaster having put the question, "Quod diabolus cum muliere rem habere et impregnare eam posset?" Our licentiate replied without wincing: "Imo possibile est, nam diabolus furat semen a viribus et perfert ad mulieribus."

Simon Telchow, another procurator, for a long while master auditor at Eldenow, and who was married to a damsel of noble birth, after having set up as a brewer at Greifswald, had "to shut up" shop and come back to his pen. Having contracted at court a taste for drink, he never went to bed without being "muddled." As a matter of course, he was not very matutinal. He, moreover, only practised pro nudo procuratore, and his clients had to provide themselves with an advocate. In causis mandatorum, when the mandatarii eluded execution, Telchow asked for an arctiorem mandatum. Sworn procurators there were none in those days, and as the procedure in general was oral, any one endowed with the "gift of the gab" could present himself at the bar. Since then things have changed to the glory of the prince and the advantage of litigants.

The experience I had gained at Spires was most useful to me in my new career. The judges, the chancellor, and the litigants themselves seemed to listen to me with pleasure; nay, this or that party who had not entrusted me with his cause, made me, nevertheless, accept his money, because he wished to retain my services, if the occasion required, or, at any rate, deprive his opponent of them. People came to fetch me from the country with chariot and horses to mediate between them. I was brought back in the same manner, and each time, besides the hard cash I received, I was laden with all kinds of provisions, hares, shoulders of mutton, haunches of venison or of wild boar, magnificent hams, quarters of bacon, butter, cheese, and eggs by the dozen, bundles upon bundles of flax. My reception at home may be easily imagined. There was no longer any risk of hearing the sad complaint, "Mother, you did not advise me; you simply handed me over."

Peter Thun, of Schleminn, a violent-tempered man, and but too prompt to fire a shot or to draw the sword, was at constant loggerheads with his neighbour Ber. They were joint owners of a nice pond. Ber claimed the exclusive enjoyment of the half adjoining his estate, and which also happened to be the better stocked with fish. Thun, on the other hand, maintained that the whole of the pond was joint property. Ber having planted hemp along the common road, Thun sent his cattle to graze there, and went himself on horseback so that his mount might trample the plant down. Finally, a lot of peasants went under the personal command of Thun to Ber's windmill, and promptly sapped its foundations, so that it came down with a crash. Naturally, the law is set in motion. Thun is condemned to indemnify Ber constrictibus; then comes an appeal to the Imperial Chamber, which upholds the first verdict with executoriales cum refusione expensarum; the total amounting to about nine hundred florins.

Puffed up with his success and purse-proud besides, Ber applauded each scurvy trick his people played his enemy. Thun, on the other hand, was not a man to be played with. One of Ber's servants (in fact, his illegitimate son, a young, brazen and robust fellow), finally assailed Thun. The latter stood his ground valiantly, but his affrighted wife seized his arm; the bastard's sword went right through him. Thun's only heir was his nephew, a minor, the succession was most involved, and its liquidation cost me a great deal of trouble and a number of fatiguing journeys. My honorarium was fixed at twenty florins per annum. I only took ten from the minor, because I never returned from Schleminn empty-handed. Later on, his guardians made it up to me in presents of money and in kind; they provided for my building operations splendid oaks, which made magnificent joists. In sum, this affair yielded a good three hundred crowns to me.

H. Smeker, of WÜstenfeld, was a character who ruined himself in litigation and in building. He left this or that structure which was ready to be roofed in to be spoilt by the rain or the snow, after which he had it completely razed to the ground. A Mecklenburger named Negendanck was, it would appear, one of his important creditors. To get his claim settled he employed a means rather common in his country. One night he arrived at WÜstenfeld at the head of a troop of armed horsemen. Smeker was asleep in his room, and his wife, who had just been brought to bed, lay in an adjoining closet. Lievetzow, her brother, a handsome young fellow, had been accommodated with a room near the drawbridge. Negendanck, swearing and bellowing, orders the bridge to be lowered. Lievetzow, in his shirt, issues from his room and tries to appease him by informing him of the condition of his sister. Negendanck replies with a shot which kills the defenceless and scantily-dressed stripling on the spot. Then, taking the passage by storm, he gets as far as the invalid's room, lays his hand upon everything, shatters the silver chest, which he knew where to find, takes whatever he likes, and finally drags the body of her brother to the foot of the sister's bed. Smeker, who had been awakened by the noise, had taken flight in his nightgown. Knowing the moat to be fordable, he had crossed it with the water shoulders high, and after making for the stables, had taken refuge in a kind of bog inaccessible to the horsemen. Negendanck took all the horses and cattle away with him.

Naturally, the Imperial Chamber was finally called upon to try the affair. A rule having been granted to prove his allegations, Smeker came to Greifswald to enlist my services. He was an old man with a grey head and short beard; a fluffy white gown with large pleats and black girdle reached to his feet. In short, the feathers pretty well indicated the nature of the bird. I had so often heard them call out at Spires, "Smoker contra Negendanck," "the Duke Heindrich of Mecklenburg contra Heindrich Smoker," as to make the name familiar to me. To my question if he was the identical Smoker, he replied in a surly tone, "My name is Smeker, not Smoker."

He produced a host of witnesses, many of whom lived in outlying regions of Pomerania or Mecklenburg; their hearing involved constant travelling. Smeker would have never got out of the difficulty by himself, in consequence of his want of ready money. The moment he found himself in possession of some, he got hold of the horse of one of his peasantry as if to ride to the nearest village, and never drew rein until he got to Spires. If, during his journey, the money ran short, he borrowed from people who all knew him and were sure of being repaid by his son Mathias. Not only did he pay nothing to his procurator, Dr. Schwartzenberg, but the latter had to feed him, to advance the chancellery fees, and to look to his return journey. Mathias, on the other hand, was most open-handed. His secretary, who came to Greifswald in order to watch the proceedings, lavished claret wine and tarts on the commissaries, and even sent some to my wife. Each session was worth from between fifty to seventy crowns to me. That secretary appreciated my trouble like a true expert. Said inquiry brought me about two hundred and fifty crowns.

On the occasion of a suit before the Imperial Chamber, and in which little Heindrich gained the day against big Heindrich--that was the designation of Smeker respectively of himself and his adversary--the Duke of Mecklenburg, the latter carried off all Smeker's sheep. Among the flock there was an old ram, accustomed to get a bit of bread at meal times from his master's hands. The animals either escaped, or perhaps the duke had them driven back to WÜstenfeld. At any rate, the ram appeared at the head of the flock, its appetite sharpened by the march, and, moreover, fond of bread, ran towards the table. No sooner did Smiterlow catch sight of it than he got up, doffed his hat, and bade it welcome. "What an agreeable surprise!" he exclaimed. "Bene veneritis! The soup of princes is not to thy taste, it appears, inasmuch as thou comest back already." But Smeker caught at the chance of another lawsuit at Spires which brought me twenty crowns.

His son and his son-in-law, who did their best to save the considerable paternal fortune, hit upon the idea to credit the suzerain, Duke Heindrich, with the intention of retiring the fiefs. Starting from that gratuitous supposition, they pointed out to the old man that the journeys to Spires became more and more difficult to him; that, moreover, he incurred the risk of being dispossessed, and that, in such a case, his son would have the greatest possible trouble to be reinstated. What, on the other hand, could be more simple than the averting of the blow by a pretended renunciation in favour of Mathias? He, the father, would take up his quarters for some time in a house close by, which he liked very much; he should always come and take his meals with his sons, or merely eat and drink there when he liked; they would give him a young, nice and bright peasant girl to take care of him, for in spite of his age he refused to dispense with female company. Heindrich Smeker, having been prevailed upon, signed an act duly engrossed on vellum, which the principal county gentlemen of Mecklenburg attested with their seals, and to which Duke Heindrich promptly affixed his ratification.

When the old man's eyes opened to the deception it was too late. He was furious, and accused his son of having enacted the traitor to him, calling him all kind of names. Then he begged of me to bring the affair before the Imperial Chamber, but I had an excellent excuse for refusing, as I was only a notary. His robust constitution enabled him to make another journey to Spires--on a cart-horse as usual. Having been politely bowed out by Dr. Schwartzenberg, he simply wasted his breath with the other procurators--all of whom knew him. Finally, Schwartzenberg gave him the money to go home. Like a dutiful son, Mathias loyally kept his promise and showed his father every attention and consideration. He invited his father to his table or had his meals taken to him. He sent him beer and wine, and there was always a capital bed at his disposal when the fancy took him to lay at his former domicile. It was the sweetest existence imaginable, but the administration of his property was denied to him.

The worshipful council of Rostock having been cited before the Imperial Chamber by the kindred of an individual named Von der LÜhe, who had been beheaded for highway robbery, the commissaries entrusted with the case took me as their notary in the inquiry made at Rostock, and as delegate notary in the inquiry set on foot by the plaintiffs. The attestationes and the sententia definitiva conclusively proved my assiduity in the matter; hence my honorarium amounted to four hundred crowns, plus a present in silver worth fifty crowns.

The counsellor Anthony Drache, a most pious gentleman, had only one brother who was drowned and left no issue. Drache pretended to reduce the widow's share, in accordance with the feudal laws of Pomerania; but besides his fiefs or hereditary tenures of land, the deceased possessed considerable property, the dividing of which was to be effected according to the urban or local statutes. Duke Philip, of blessed memory, having carried the affair into court, the trustee of the widow confided the case to me. I worked it up very conscientiously, assisted as I was by my particular studies, by the courses I had followed of Joachim Moritz and other professors at Greifswald, and finally by my private consultations with Moritz, who was good enough to give me his directions in specie. I had a verdict on all counts, though Dr. Gentzkow was on the other side, which, moreover, could count on the sympathy of the judges and even of the prince. This success had the effect of spreading my name throughout the land, and it prompted Dr. Gentzkow to propose my appointment as secretary to the council of Stralsund. My client gave me twenty crowns, a quantity of butter and a flitch of bacon.

Chancellor Citzewitz took me with him to Stettin, and afterwards to Stargardt to assist him in a personal lawsuit. There was no question of honorarium, for we were both of opinion that his kindness to me warranted such gratuitous service.

In 1553 the Owstin family had a lengthy lawsuit with reference to a village which Citzewitz finally took away from them. In my capacity of notary to the Owstins, I received forty crowns for my work. When Valentin von Eichstadt, the new chancellor, married his daughter to an Owstin, he bore his predecessor a grudge for his success in the matter. Meanwhile, the grand marshal of the court of Wolgast, Ulrich Schwerin, became involved in litigation with Dr. B. vom Walde; the latter and Citzewitz took sides against Schwerin and Eichstadt, and each tried to harm the other as much as possible. Duke Ernest Louis intervened. The report of his displeasure was maliciously exaggerated. In a fit of despair Citzewitz stabbed himself to death.

J. vom Kalen, at that time high bailiff of RÜgen (although he could neither read nor write), had sentenced an individual for having caught a small fish in the stream flowing past his garden. The angler appealed against the sentence, probably at the instigation of expert people, wishing to do the bailiff a good turn. The latter had entrusted the affair to me, merely saying that when I got to Wolgast I should get to know what it was "all about"; but when I presented myself and obtained communication of the documents, I declined to move in the matter. I nevertheless considered myself entitled to the three crowns I had received as a deposit; besides, they were not claimed.

The city of Pasewalk had to stand the brunt of a man named FÜrstenberg, who, because matters did not always proceed according to his wishes, had renounced his citizenship. Not satisfied with that, he one night nailed to the post before the city gates a placard threatening to set fire to the place. He was almost as good as his word, for he set fire to several barns outside the walls. He was arrested at Lebus, and confined in the tower of the castle. The duke chose me to assist the two counsellors entrusted with the prosecution by the authorities of Pasewalk. The prisoner was put to the rack in our presence, judged the next day, and beheaded by the sword. To our great surprise the council allowed us to depart without offering the smallest present. On the other hand, the duke sent to my home two measures of rye, worth at that time about ten florins.

Holste, the governor of the convent of Puddegla, an eccentric and even dangerous young man, came to Greifswald to entrust me with his law affairs. He promised to remunerate me largely, and as an earnest gave me ten crowns. Shortly afterwards he had a difference with the duke, who had him confined to his quarters, but I succeeded in settling the affair to the satisfaction of both. My client was short of money for the time being, but the convent of Puddegla is situated on the banks of a beautiful lake teeming with fish (as a rule monks are not in the habit of choosing the worst spots). There was an abundance of enormous cray-fish, of various kinds of perch, of breams an ell long, of fat eels, of carp as black as soot and having only one eye, the fat and flesh having closed the other; they were indeed fit for a king's table. Holste filled my conveyance with victuals of that description, and I was glad to cry quits with him for some time to come.

It was well I felt so disposed, for in a short time he got another affair on his hands. At first he thought that the advice of his maternal uncle George vom Kalen, and three captains from RÜgen would be sufficient to settle matters, and as a matter of course he invited them to his small property at Wusterhausen, where he filled them with food and drink night and day. It was all in vain; their brain refused to suggest a way out of the difficulty except that he should send for me, which recommendation he followed. I drew up a humble petition to the duke. As I intended to leave early the next morning, Holste gave me six crowns, for the liquor that was in him already rendered him more generous than usual and than there was any occasion, considering the state of his revenues.

The gentlemen caroused till deep into the night, for long after I had retired I was awakened by George vom Kalen steadying himself by grasping my pillow. He came to propose to me to transact his law business for the future. As I was by no means anxious for that practice, I declined, though in most guarded terms. Notwithstanding this refusal, my interlocutor drew three crowns from his wallet, and slipped them into my purse, which he took from under my pillow. His two companions follow his example, and present me each with two crowns. In vain do I point out to them that I cannot accept what I have not earned, and I take the seven coins from my purse to hand them back. Thereupon George vom Kalen tells me plainly that if I persist in refusing this money, he will flay me alive as I am lying there. Knowing the people with whom I had to deal, I deemed it more prudent to listen no longer to my scruples. The company resumed their drinking, and by the time I was back at Greifswald with my thirteen crowns in my pocket, they were probably still snoring stretched under the table.

A small farmer had got his step-daughter with child. When the truth leaked out, the girl's mother moved heaven and earth to shield her husband from the death penalty by flight. As for her daughter, her only child, to fling her upon the world in that condition was exposing her to disgrace, to starvation, and perhaps to everlasting punishment. At the request of some friends, I personally went to Wolgast and presented a petition to be handed immediately to the prince. After considerable waiting, I saw him come out of his apartment. "Why does this woman speak of her daughter and not of her husband?" he asked. "Because he has taken flight," I answered; "besides, considering the heinousness of the crime, she is afraid that to mention him will not avail much." "You lawyers," retorted his Highness, "you have a way of presenting things, of polishing and whitening the most atrocious and blackest horrors. It really requires some experience to determine whether your petitions are compatible either with law, equity, or religion. I am bound to remember that God has entrusted me with the punishment of gross and impious excesses. I shall not decide upon this case to-day, but think it over." These are the words of a just, but nevertheless merciful prince, and the petitioner had the proof of it.

Michael Hovisch, the son of poor peasants, had been brought up from his earliest years in town, put to school, and then into a business establishment. He succeeded in gaining the confidence of his employers, who sent him to Sweden and Denmark. Gradually he began to operate on his own account. Modest in behaviour, neat, and even elegant in appearance, he could aspire to a good match. Meanwhile Captain Dechow took it into his head to claim him for gratuitous and enforced seignorial labour. An old ducal farm had to be rebuilt. In vain did Hovisch offer a considerable sum instead. Dechow resolved to constrain him by imprisonment. He was a relentless despot, who tried to make himself conspicuous by oppressing the peasantry and, wherever it could be done, also the urban populations. Hovisch was compelled to take flight. At the request of some personages whom I was anxious to oblige, and being moreover strongly interested in the young fellow himself, I personally presented to Duke Philip a petition in which the vexatious proceedings of the captain were set forth at length. I defy people to guess the prince's reply. Here it is: "That my subjects load thee with butter, eggs, cheese, poultry, geese, sheep and the rest, is all very well, nay, perfect in its way," he said. "Take my word for it, though," he went on, "that I can manage to govern them rightly enough with the assistance of my captain without your meddling." I told Citzewitz plainly that if the oppressed were thus deprived of their right of humble petition there was "no saying" how things would end. "Dechow," remarked Citzewitz, "is an arbitrary, hasty brute, but he has managed to ingratiate himself with the duke. Fortunately, his Highness has been warned. I'll recur to the subject when I get an opportunity; there must be a change." Dechow left Wolgast for Lubeck, where the people soon got tired of him. Michael Hovisch was never again heard of. It was the last time I took it into my head to present a petition, and especially to wait for its answer.

To sum up, in the space of two years, the occupation of procurator, and, above all, of notary, brought me eleven hundred and four and twenty crowns in hard cash.

Magister J. Schoenefeld acted as notary in four cases before the court presided over by Dr. von Walde. Duke Philip was the plaintiff. As it happened, Schoenefeld was too old to proceed energetically; the going from "pillar to post" frightened him; besides, people had become more exacting. He therefore decided upon handing his documents over to me, and they contained several interesting items. The prince, for instance, summoned Lutke Maltzan to prove his right to the fiefs of Sarow, Gantzkendorf, and Carin. Maltzan declined, pleading prescription in virtue of thirty years' possession. The fiefs in question had belonged to Jacob Voss, nephew and ward of Berendt Maltzan, surnamed "the Bad." (Berckmann and other historians amply explain the reasons for the sobriquet.) The uncle having advanced two hundred or three hundred florins on the lands of his nephew, persuaded the latter to go to the war with a couple or so of horses. He made sure of never beholding him again. Jacob Voss, a model of honour and courage, distinguished himself in many a campaign, and the esteem in which he was held by all enabled him to borrow the necessary sum to redeem the paternal property. He gave notice to Berendt Maltzan of his intention to refund the money at the new year, and at the appointed time he arrived at his uncle's--a fortified domicile, most appropriate to his brigandage, rapine and exactions. For several days Maltzan loaded him with kindness, they drank together, played cards and diced; in short, honest Jacob Voss, instead of redeeming his lands, lost the borrowed money.

His despair and his thirst for vengeance prompted him to extreme measures, and with a servant expressly engaged for the purpose, he several times set fire to his former possessions. Thereupon his uncle enjoined his tenants to proceed to his nephew's capture. One Sunday Voss and his companion having fallen asleep in the wood near Gantzkendorf, which they intended to burn down that night, were discovered by a little dog of some peasants gathering nuts; and not later than the Monday following Berendt Maltzan had the son of his sister "racked" alive. During the journey Jacob Voss apostrophized the tenants at labour by their names. "Johannes, Peter, Nicholas," he exclaimed, "can you understand this horrible and ignominious death for claiming my own property?"

To come back to the suit of the prince against Maltzan. The judge sent the document to the faculty of law at Leipzig, which asked an honorarium of forty crowns. Its decision, the seal of which was broken in the presence of the parties as represented by their counsel and read there and then, concluded in favour of Maltzan, to the great vexation of the ducal advisers, Chancellor Citzewitz severely reprimanding Dr. von Walde for not having opened the reply in order to amend it. An appeal was entered at the Imperial Chamber, and the case only ended several years after my establishment at Stralsund. The parties paid me more than one thousand crowns.

Towards 1542 a Dane said to Christopher von der Lanckin, of RÜgen, that the willow bow-nets for the catching of fish in the Danish fashion would be more profitable to him than two big houses he had at Stralsund. In fact from the time two of those contrivances arrived, Christopher, who had been very hampered in money matters, settled his debts very quickly. Struck with the result, two notable burghers of Stralsund, namely councillor Conrad Oseborn and Olof Lorbeer, the son of the burgomaster, went into partnership with some of their kindred, and promptly exploited the invention. The new nets, though, in consequence of their size, obstructed the entrance to the streams; the fish no longer passed, and it meant ruin to the inhabitants of the interior. There were protests on all sides. Duke Philip wrote to Stralsund; the council replied ironically that fish not being taken by hand, everybody was free to ply for it as he liked. An inquiry was set on foot, the prince prohibited the big bow-nets, and had those belonging to Lorbeer seized. Thereupon the whole gang began to shout that the liberties of the city were in peril, a galley was fitted out to guard the nets, and finally, Stralsund resorted to law.

If, in taking the succession of Schoenefeld, I had suspected my countrymen of being so unreasonable as they were in this instance, I should certainly have declined the brief, albeit that my presence counterbalanced the hostility of the inquiring magistrate. In his examination C. von der Lanckin stated loyally that from his point of view, the Danish bow-nets were excellent, inasmuch as they had enabled him to pay his debts, but that on his faith and honour of a gentleman the new contrivance would ruin the country. The deposition of the fishermen was very clear: "Whosoever will rid us of those nets will no longer need to go to church or to say Paters. We ask for nothing else from heaven from morn till night."

In spite of everything, Stralsund persisted in its wrong. Finally, on the opinion of counsel and the verdict of September 28, 1554, the duke gained his cause, and the city was condemned in costs. On the spur of the moment the council wanted to lodge an appeal, but it thought the better of it. The suit had lasted twelve years, and had bred between the two parties a feeling of misunderstanding which only vanished with the death of the prince. As there had been two hundred and fifty witnesses, the six hundred crowns I received in fees was, I take it, not an excessive remuneration.