Electoral Grace looked rather vexed, and began to uphold the men of Cologne. Upon which his Highness cut him short, saying, “Marry, brother, you know the old proverb 'The men of Cologne Have no hues of their own, But the men of Stettin For where truly could your fellows find the true green in their sandy dust-box? Marry, cousin, one Pomerania is worth ten Margravates; and I will show your Grace just now that my land in winter is more productive than yours even in autumn." His Grace here alluded to the fisheries; for along the way, for twelve or fourteen miles, the fishermen had been ordered to set their nets by torchlight the night before, in holes dug through the ice, so that on the arrival of the princely party the nets might be drawn up, and the draught exhibited to their Graces. Now, when they entered the fresh Haff, which lay before them like a large mirror, six miles long and four broad, his Grace of Pomerania called out "See here, brother, this is my first storeroom; let us try what it will give us to eat." Upon which he signed to Dinnies Kleist to steer over to the first heap of nets, which lay like a black wood in the distance. These belonged to the Ziegenort fishermen, as the old schoolmaster, Peter Leisticow, himself told me; and as they had taken a great draught the day before, many people from the towns of Warp, Stepenitz, and Uckermund were assembled there to buy up the fish, and then retail it, as was their custom, throughout the country. They had made a fire upon a large sheet of iron laid upon the ice, while their horses were feeding close by upon hay, which they shook out before them. And having taken a merry carouse together, they all set to dancing upon the ice with the women to the bagpipe, so that the encampment looked right jovial as their Graces arrived. out Now when the grand train came up, the peasants roared "Donnerwetter,* look at the plötz-eaters! See the cursed plötz-caters! Donnerwetter, what plötz-caters!" + And now they observed, during their shouting, that the water had risen up to their knees; and when the ducal procession rushed up, the abyss re-echoed with a noise like thunder, so that the foreign princes were alarmed, but soon grew accustomed thereto. Then the pressure of such a crowd upon the ice caused the water to spout out of the holes to the height of a man. So that by the time they were two bowshots from the nets, all the folk, the women and children especially, were running, screaming, in every direction, trying to save themselves on the firm ice, to the great amusement of their Graces, while a peasant cried out to the sleigh drivers "Stop, stop! or ye'll go into the cellar!" Hereupon his Grace of Pomerania beckoned over the Ziegenort schoolmaster, and asked him what they had taken, to which he answered "Gracious Prince, we have taken bley; the nets are all loaded; we've taken seventy schümers, and your Grace ought to take one with you for supper." Now his Highness the Elector wished to see the nets emptied, so they rested a space while the peasants shovelled * A common oath, + Plotz-caters was a nickname given by the Pomeranians to the people of the Margravates. For the plotz (Cyprinus Exythrophthalmus) is a very poor tasteless fish, while the rivers of Pomerania are stocked with the very finest of all kinds. In return, the men of the Marks called the Pomeranians "* Feather-heads," from the quantity of moorpalms (Eriophorum vaginalum) which grow in their numerous rich meadows. A schümer was a measure which contained twelve bushels. out the fish, and pitched them into the aforesaid schümers. But ah! woe to the fish-thieves who had come over from Warp and other places; for the water having risen up and become all muddy with fish-slime, they never saw the great holes, and tumbled in, to the great amusement of the peasants and pastime of their Graces. How their Highnesses laughed when the poor carls in the water tried to get hold of a net or a rope or a firm piece of ice, while they floundered about in the water, and the peasants fished them up with their long hooks, at the same time giving many of them a sharp prod on the shoulder, crying out— "Ha! will ye steal again? Take that for your pains, you robbers!" Now when their Graces were tired laughing and looking at the fish hauled, they prepared to depart; but the schoolmaster prayed his Highness of Stettin yet again to take a schümer of fish for their supper, as their Graces were going to stop for the night in Uckermund. “But what could I do with all the fish?" quoth the Duke. To which the carl answered in his jargon— "Eh! gracious master, give them to the plötz-eaters; that will be something new for them. Never fear but they'll eat them all up!" Hereupon his Highness the Elector grew nettled, and cried out "Ho! thou damned peasant, thinkest thou we have no bley?" "Well, ye've none here," replied the man cunningly. So their Graces laughed, and ordered a couple of bushels of the largest to be placed upon the safety sleigh. Now when they had gone a little farther and found the ice as smooth as glass, the henchman let loose the bear and the wolf-dogs after it. My stout Bruin first growls and paws the ice, then sets himself in earnest for the race, and, on account of his sharp claws, ran on straight for Uckermund without ever slipping, while the hounds fell down on all sides, or tumbled on their backs, howling with rage and disappointment. Yet more pleasant was the hare-hunt, for hounds and hares both tumbled down together, and the hares squeaked and the hounds yelped; some hares indeed were killed, but only after infinite trouble, while others ran away after the bear. After the hunt they came to another fishery, and so on till they reached Uckermund, passing six fisheries in succession, whereof each draught was as large as the first, so that his Grace the Elector marvelled much at the abundance, and seeing the nets full of zannats at the last halting-place, cried out "Marry, brother, your storeroom is well furnished. I might grow dainty here myself. Let us take a bushel of these along with us for supper, for zannat is the fish for me!" This greatly rejoiced his Grace of Stettin, who ordered the fish to be laid on the sumpter sleigh, and in good time they reached the ducal house at Uckermund, Dinnies Kleist still keeping foremost, and waving his two banners over his head, while Barthold Barnim and the other skaters hung weary and tired upon the backs of the sleighs. CHAPTER XXI. How Sidonia meets their Graces upon the ice-Item, how Dinnies Kleist beheads himself, and my gracious lord of Wolgast perishes miserably. THE next morning early the whole train set off from Uckermund in the highest spirits, passing net after net, till the Duke of Mecklenburg, as well as the Elector, lifted their hands in astonishment. From the Haff they entered the Pene, and from that the Achterwasser.* Here a great crowd "A large bay formed by the Pene. of people stood upon the ice, for the town of Quilitz lay quite near; besides, more fish had been taken here than had yet been seen upon the journey, so that people from Wolgast, Usdom, Lassahn, and all the neighbouring towns had run together to bid for it. But what happened? Alas! that his Grace should have desired to halt, for scarcely had his sleigh stopped, when a little old woman, meanly clad, with fisher's boots, and a net filled with bley-fish in her hand, stepped up to it and said "My good Lord, I am Sidonia von Bork; wherefore have you not replied to my demand for the præbenda of Barbara von Kleist in Marienfliess?" “How could he answer her? He knew nothing at all of her mode of living, or where she dwelt.” Illa.—" She had bid him lay the answer upon the altar of St. Jacob's in Stettin. Why had he not done so?” “That was no place for such letters, only for the words of the Holy Spirit and the Blessed Sacrament of his Saviour; therefore, let her say now where she dwelt." Illa.—“The richest maiden in Pomerania could ill say where the poorest now dwelt," weeping. "The richest maiden had only herself to blame if she were now the poorest; better had she wept before. The præbenda she could never have; let her cease to think of it; but here was an alms, and she might now go her ways." Illa.-(Refuses to take it, and murmurs.) "Your Grace will soon have bitter sorrow for this.” As she so menaced and spat out three times, the thing angered Dinnies Kleist (who held her in abhorrence ever since the adventure in the Uckermund forest), and as he had lost none of his early strength, he hit her a blow with the blood-standard over the shoulder, exclaiming, "Pack off to the devil, thou shameless hag! What does the witch mean by her spittings? The præbenda of my sister Barbara shalt thou never have!" |