The Greifswald Council appoints me the City's Secretary--Delicate Mission to Stralsund--Burgomaster Christopher Lorbeer and his Sons--Journey to Bergen--I settle at Stralsund

The Greifswald magistrates, who had the opportunity of seeing me daily at work, gradually arrived at the conclusion that I could not be altogether devoid of merit, considering that highly placed personages and even the prince himself entrusted me with important affairs. Schoenefeld, being no longer up to the standard required, they offered me his charge on the condition of my completely relinquishing my practice as procurator. In consequence of this, on December 29, 1554, I was appointed secretary to the city of Greifswald.

View of Stralsund.

The first burgomaster of Stralsund, Christopher Lorbeer, had two sons, who spent their time in the chase, in the taverns, and at the brilliant receptions of the nobility and of the opulent burgher class. They took it for granted that they might do anything they liked, and operated with dogs and nets on Greifswald territory. It so happened, though, that several young nobles and rich burghers of the latter town had excellent packs of hounds, and were, in consequence, often invited by the prince. As a matter of course, they objected to this poaching on the part of the Lorbeers. One day the two parties came face to face, and the attitude of the Greifswald people caused the others to face about and to abandon their nets. As a balm to their wounded pride, the Lorbeers, lying in ambush at the inn at Testenhagen, assailed pistol in hand a carter from Greifswald, maltreated him, and finally carried off his best horse. The Greifswald council wrote to Stralsund in the most measured terms, as ought to be done among neighbours. The reply was supercilious, and couched in most intemperate terms. I was, therefore, instructed to draw up an appeal to the duke. The moment was unquestionably exceedingly well chosen, considering the behaviour of Stralsund in the matter of the bow-nets. And although the reports of that lawsuit were as yet not published, I was familiar with them, and had no difficulty in conceiving the irritation of the prince against the Lorbeers. I nevertheless disadvised having recourse to his intervention; I deemed it more prudent to go to Stralsund and discuss the matter.

The moment I had presented my credentials the Stralsund council met in solemn assembly. One of them received me most graciously, and introduced me. Burgomaster Lorbeer's polite anxiety to make room for me on the bench of the council showed to me his secret hope of seeing me betray the interests of my clients, and of metaphorically falling at his feet. After the usual civilities, I pointed out to the meeting the seriousness of the case, going fully into the facts in a firm and perhaps somewhat plain language, reminding them of the Imperial "orders" with regard to the preservation of the public peace. Nor did I scruple to represent, as a good neighbour ought to have done, the danger of obstinacy, above all with a prince who was already more or less displeased.

I could read the exoneration for this bold speech on many a countenance, but Christopher Lorbeer and his staunch adherents, who were not accustomed to hear the truth to their faces, turned colour; their hitherto affable looks changed into scowls, and the burgomaster, beside himself with anger, rose and said: "Thou art too eager to break thy first lance. I beg to submit that this man be strictly watched." "And clapped into gaol if necessary," I retorted. Thereupon Lorbeer walked out, and I was dismissed without being reconducted as I had been introduced. In a little while, word was sent that the affair requiring further examination, the answer would be communicated later on. A couple of hours afterwards Dr. Gentzkow, the syndic, sent for me to come to the St. Nicholas' Church. "I am obliged to admit," he said, "that your language was justified in law as in fact, but Master Christopher has taken mortal offence at it, inasmuch as he is not accustomed to have people adopt this tone with him, or to hear himself and his sons taxed with disturbing the public peace. He can do you a great deal of good or a great deal of harm. His influence, both in the city and in the country, is immense. In short, if the council have rightly interpreted your message, the Greifswald folk desire to terminate this affair in a friendly manner; very well, let us appoint a day at Reinberg to arrange matters as good neighbours should. I am asking you for your best endeavours to bring this about."

The Stralsund people made their preparations for the day in question by slaughtering a great many birds and game, by roasting and boiling the same, and by broaching casks upon casks of beer and wine. Besides the principal burghers of the city related to them by blood and in thorough sympathy, the Lorbeers invited their friends from the neighbourhood, and their young boon companions, who appeared armed with pistols, arquebuses and spikes, so that the gathering looked more like a call to arms than like a friendly meeting. Consequently, some of the councillors and citizens of Stralsund secretly warned the people of Greifswald to send no one to the spot, and my father was particularly cautioned not to let me go, for that I should surely be killed. The Greifswald magistrates remained coy, and did not reply a word to the invitation; then, at the very hour of the invasion of Reinberg by the Lorbeer band, they wrote that if the horse were returned to them in three days they would return the nets sequestrated in just reprisal. If this were not done, the prince would be requested to dispense justice. At the news of Greifswald's abstention from the quasi-festivities the Lorbeer camp broke into an avalanche of imprecations and threats. Wound up with drink, they swore that they would murder everybody. Nevertheless, before the three days had expired, a stable-man brought back the horse, receiving in return the nets; and so there was an end of that disagreement.

There was a time when "milord" burgomaster Christopher Lorbeer did pretty well as he liked with everybody without meeting with any resistance, and as a matter of course, his wife and children followed suit. Odd to relate, my mission was coincident with the heyday of his fortune, and it was really owing to a few simple words from my lips that his star suddenly waned. He did not mind being treated as ungodly, and as a soul likely to incur eternal punishment, and when I say this I am speaking on the authority of his eldest son, but he objected to being accused of endangering the public peace, or, in other words, to forfeiting his honour; it is that which put him beside himself. His annoyance at having failed in his contemplated revenge against Greifswald and against me seriously undermined his health. A most painful illness confined him to his bed for six months, during which no one was allowed to see him. It seemed a terrible retribution which profoundly moved both the city and the country. The burgomaster's victims raised their voices, and the exactions by which he had hitherto kept up his grand style of living were at an end. When his wife attempted to revictual the establishment as of old, she met with refusals. A grain dealer to whom she had sent her pigs to fatten brought them back to her, pretending "hard times." She was beginning to "ride the high horse" with him, but he pointed to the room of the burgomaster, saying: "Don't forget that 'I command you' is lying there." After a protracted agony, which practically reduced him to the condition of a mere animal, Christopher Lorbeer died on October 16, 1555, and was buried in the choir of the St. Nicholas' Church, by the side of my mother and my two sisters, and under the same flagstone where my father subsequently lay. The council, greatly affected by his death, let three weeks pass before naming a successor to the deceased; after which the syndic, N. Gentzkow, and the first secretary, Anthony Lickow, were solemnly and joyously elected to the dignity.

Though as yet my emoluments were not fixed, the Greifswald council had already given me several proofs of its high confidence. At Stralsund, on the other hand, I was the constant butt of the violent enmity of the most notable citizens, who would have rent me to pieces if they had got hold of me. Stralsund being thus closed to me, no place was more suitable as a residence than Greifswald, where I was born and had many of my kindred. But the owner of the house I rented made me very uncomfortable with his mania for transforming the dwelling into a storehouse for the most lumbering material, such as wood, stone, mortar, sand, etc.; he also used the place for the weddings of his servants, without the least regard for my wife, whether she was sick or in childbed. All our objections were met with the same answer: "If you do not like it you had better move." Hence, I finally made the acquisition of a house in the Fischhandler Strasse (Fishmonger Street), belonging to Johannes Velschow, the father-in-law of Brand Hartmann. Its price was three hundred and fifty florins, payable in four quarterly instalments. Brand Hartmann was the son of that George Hartmann with whom my father had had such grave differences. He felt very wroth at seeing the house his father had built for his use pass into my possession, but the sale was effected in due legal form. I had given the deposit (God's pfenning) and put down the first hundred florins in the presence of several councillors and notable burghers.

Masons and carpenters were set to work at once. The front door had to be widened, the heavy roof to be strengthened, the rooms, stables, cellar and yard to be overhauled. My father had had a great deal of building done in his days and gained much experience. He came to superintend matters. Now and again he somewhat bullied the workmen, and even dismissed them, replacing them by others. Looking back on all this, I cannot help wondering at my audacity, for my purse was practically empty, and the workmen had to be paid on Saturdays. With God's help my practice provided the necessary money every week. My profession took me away from home a great deal; hence, there was some delay in the building operations, but for every florin I lost in that way, I earned ten and more elsewhere.

On September 25, 1555, Duke Philip, with a numerous suite stopped at Stralsund for the night and was entertained by the council. He was going to Bergen, in the island of RÜgen, where he stayed until October 11, and at his return he lay once more at Stralsund, equally at the expense of the city. The aim of the journey was to check the encroachments of the Jasmund nobility, which, not content with cutting down the forest of Stubenitz for its own benefit, conceded the same rights to others--for a consideration. The prince took me with him as secretary. The aristocracy having proposed a friendly settlement, there was much parleying, during which the duke was at a loss to kill time. He was lodged in the apartments of the prior at the monastery of Bergen, and which looked out upon the courtyard, and spent hours in watching from his windows the pages and valets and their constant bickerings, quarrels and fights. He could even hear their opinions of him. One day, when standing in his usual coign of vantage while four Polish violins performed several pieces of music in the room itself, he heard a valet below saying to his fellow, "The people of Stralsund have much better musicians than their prince. What he has got is simply ridiculous. Duke Bogislaw keeps four trumpeters and a kettledrum player; they, at any rate, produce some effect. But this prince up there, with his caterwauling things, is absurd." The duke sent Prior Gottschalck to ascertain who was talking in that strain, but Gottschalck, having noticed a relative of his in the group, made them a sign to be off, and went upstairs, saying that they had been too quick for him, and that he had failed to recognize any one. The prince promptly repeated to his familiars word for word what he had heard on the art of keeping up his rank, and long afterwards he was fond of reminding them of the incident.

Another anecdote: A lot of boys were noisily playing in the courtyard, and one of the most turbulent was the illegitimate son of the bailiff (his real father having sent him to school, though he bore the name of his putative parent, Arndts, the tailor of Bergen). His Highness having given order to drive the yelling beggars away and to box their ears if necessary, the footmen executed his orders to the letter, right and left. The prince noticed, though, that they spared Arndts, and he shouted that he more than any of the others deserved correction, but the servant to whom the recommendation was addressed simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Do you hear me?" cried the duke; "rub it into the little devil." "Oh, no," replied the flunkey. "Oh, yes, lay it on thickly." "Nay, nay; heaven preserve me from doing such a thing." "And why, what's to prevent you?" "What? to trounce the son of a bailiff! I should repent it afterwards." At these words the duke burst out laughing. He told the story to every one, even in the bailiff's presence. On one occasion the boy was sent for and placed by the side of his father. His eyes, his nose, his head and his legs were compared with those of his sire. The governor of Cammin, after having made the lad march up and down the room, said to the bailiff, "That's your son, right enough; he is shaped like you."

The attempt at conciliation having failed, the parties met at the monastery in a large room provided with chairs, seats and two tables, one for his Highness, the other for the pares curiae. I took place at the latter in my capacity of notarius judicii. The chancellor, in his master's name, gave a summary of the facts, after which, the prince, rising from his seat, came to the second table, and there, facing me, he made a long speech, not at all badly composed. I only give its conclusion: "In your presence, Master Notary, I maintain having been animated by most friendly intentions towards my subjects, but they rejected all attempts at settling matters. In consequence of this, and as a guarantee of my rights, I command you to state everything that has happened, including the present declaration, and to draw up a duly attested act which you shall remit to me in consideration of your lawful remuneration." The matter did not go farther that day, but the duke instructed me to pursue the inquiry jointly with the Governor of Cammin, which took us several days.

The "instrument" gave me a great deal of trouble, filling, as it did, seven of the largest skins of parchment, constituting fourteen sheets. It contained more matter than a quire of paper. There was no room to affix my signature and the signum notariatus at the end of the deed, according to custom, so I made an impression in wax of my seal engraved on lead, and suspended it from the string holding the sheets together. His Highness, without asking, gave me a fee of thirty crowns.

Magister Joachim Moritz, professor juris at Greifswald and ducal counsellor, had never been to Stralsund, and knew nobody there. At my return from Bergen he asked me to "put him up" at my father's, which I was very glad to do. Having risen early to see the city, he went shortly after seven into St. Nicholas' to hear the sermon. Zabel Lorbeer, who caught sight of him, mistook him for his former boon companion, George Steinkeller. The likeness between these two seems to have been so striking as to have deceived people generally. Many a gentleman upon beholding Moritz on the bench at Wolgast, said to his neighbour, "And where the devil did Steinkeller get his knowledge of the law from, to constitute him a judge?" Lorbeer, then, coming from behind, takes Moritz by the ears and shakes him for full a minute, the professor, altogether nonplussed, asking himself all the while who it could be giving him such an energetic welcome. He made sure it was me. Finally, he managed to turn round, and Lorbeer, perceiving his mistake, was most profuse with apologies. Moritz was fond of relating the adventure, especially in the hearing of the Stralsunders, and no one enjoyed the story more than the duke.

The Stralsund council took the opportunity of my visit (which happened during the very week of Burgomaster Lorbeer's funeral), to offer me the position of secretary. My surprise may easily be imagined. I considered myself so compromised in the eyes of the Stralsunders that, without the company of the governor of Cammin and the commission I held of the prince, I should not have deemed myself safe in the city. Those overtures, though, caused me as much pleasure as they did to my kindred; nevertheless, I felt bound not to give a definite answer until I was relieved of my engagement at Greifswald, although I had not taken the oath. Being anxious to hasten my return, the Stralsund council sent me a messenger to Greifswald with a saddle-horse.

I pointed out to my friends and to the magistrates at Greifswald that, although I had to a certain extent begun my functions, there had as yet been no positive agreement; not a syllable had been uttered, for instance, about salary. Why then should I decline the important Stralsund appointment? My uncle and godfather, Burgomaster Bertram Smiterlow, summoned the council to the chancellerie, and a fixed salary of eighty florins was allotted to me. Never had a secretary been so well paid. I asked to let the matter stand over till the next morning, so that I might consult with my family. My wife's relatives implored me to accept; my father-in-law, a centenarian, promised me, with tears in his eyes, a hundred florins if I stayed. At the instance of all these, I declared myself ready to receive the luck-penny (the earnest-money) commensurate with the dignity of the office and of the council, it being, furthermore, understood that I should be allowed to remain at the chancellerie and not be elected to the council. The camerarii counted me out eight crowns as earnest-money, and my predecessor, Johannes Schoenefeld, sent me word to engross my own act of appointment. More than one precedent justified me in expecting about a year's salary as earnest-money, but after some hesitation I took the eight crowns.

My father-in-law was anxiously waiting for the result of the interview. I flung the money on the table. "Just look, father," I exclaimed, "did I not sell myself at my worth? You had better get your hundred florins ready." But he had apparently recovered from his first depression, and seemed not at all touched by my obvious sacrifice, for he said tetchily, "If it suits you to go, very well, go; but you'll not have one florin as far as I am concerned." I felt hurt, although I fully intended to refuse the hundred florins, lest my brother-in-law should look askance at me.

I put the Stralsund horse up in Burgomaster Smiterlow's stable, my own not being ready. My first impulse was to send it back the same day. Then I began to reflect that it would be better to draw up my "act of appointment"; after that, the letter to the Stralsund council would not take long. In drawing up the act, I could, however, not help noticing that neither the period nor the place of payment was stated, and next morning I went to ask Schoenefeld about all this. He told me that I should receive two florins one day from this person, and half a florin the next from another, so that at the end of the year the eighty florins would be complete. I certainly did congratulate myself for having kept a back door open, for the misunderstanding was very serious, casual instalments and fixed appointments being by no means the same thing. After leaving Schoenefeld, I ran against Burgomaster Smiterlow and the camerarii in the market-place, and told them that if Schoenefeld's version was true, I preferred returning the wretched earnest-money. "Your conduct will surprise them," they replied. "To summon the council at such a short notice is no more possible than to take back the earnest-money without its leave." I, on the other hand, maintained that it was yet time to arrange affairs. "Should I be deserving of the magistrates' confidence if I were so incapable of conducting my own affairs? I am going to the burgomaster at once to deposit the earnest-money on his daughter's table. She'll know right enough to whom to hand it. After which I shall get into the saddle and take the road to Stralsund." Thereupon the council was summoned.

I went to tell my wife, her brother, and my sister whom he had married. My wife, not satisfied with shedding tears, declared categorically that she should not leave Greifswald. She would take a room somewhere and earn her living knitting. My sister and her husband were also much excited. "What shall you do with your nice house?" said my sister. "Why vex our parents? Stop here out of consideration for them; here where there are so many opportunities of being useful to them." An old aunt, a sensible, upright and honest matron whom my wife had called to her aid was the only one to express a contrary opinion. "Dear nephew," she said, "though I should be too pleased to keep you near me, for after God you are the prop of my old age, I'm bound to admit that there is no comparison between the post of Greifswald and that of Stralsund. If I placed an obstacle to your stroke of good fortune, my conscience would reproach me afterwards, so take my advice and carry out your plan. Do you remember how your wife mourned her mother? Does she still cry at the mention of her name? Well, she'll get just as used to living at Stralsund." My wife's tears flowed all the faster at these words.

The messenger from Stralsund went to saddle my horse. Booted and spurred I joined him almost immediately, and had the animal brought round to Burgomaster Smiterlow's door where, somewhat impatiently, I awaited on the steps his return from the Town Hall. He told me that no secretary in the past had received the appointments allotted to me, and that no secretary in the future was likely to receive them, and yet I had still found better; hence the council felt most reluctant to hamper my career and sent their best wishes for my welfare. I immediately got into the saddle and left the town, avoiding our house, on the threshold of which I could see my wife standing surrounded by her kindred. It was on November 29, 1555. My residence at Greifswald dated from January 1, 1551. During that period my earnings amounted to five thousand three hundred florins, exclusive of presents in kind, which often exceeded the strictly necessary. Here ends the third part of the story of my life.

THE END