So three large logs were found, each hauled by twenty-four horses though two would have been sufficient and brought up in sight of the enemy towards evening. In the meantime I had also got hold of three blunderbusses and a large barrel from a castle and set them up the way I wanted them. Once it was dark they were taken up to our sham artillery. I gave the blunderbusses a double charge and fired them through the barrel, which had had the bottom knocked out, as if we were firing three trial shots. It made such a thunderous noise that anyone would have sworn blind they were great siege guns or demi-culverins.
The general had to laugh at our fake salvo and once more offered the enemy terms, with the proviso that if they did not accept them that evening they would suffer for it the next day. At that hostages were exchanged, terms agreed and one of the town gates handed over to us that same night. All this turned out very well for me. Not only did the general pardon me for having broken his ban on duelling but he ordered the lieutenant-colonel, in my presence, to give me the first ensign’s post to fall vacant. This, however, did not suit the lieutenant-colonel, for he had too many cousins and in-laws waiting for a post for me to be given precedence over them.
Chapter 11
Contains all kind of things of little importance and great self-importance
Nothing else of note happened to me on that expedition. When I got back to Soest I discovered that the Hessians from Lippstadt had captured the servant I had left behind with my baggage in my quarters together with a horse which he had taken out to graze. From him the enemy learnt more about the way I went about things and came to respect me even more, for until then they had accepted the general rumour that I had magic powers. He told them that he had been one of the ‘devils’ that had given the Huntsman of Werl such a fright at the sheep-farm. When the said Huntsman heard this he felt so humiliated that he made himself scarce again, leaving Lippstadt to join the Dutch. For me, however, the capture of my servant turned out to be a great piece of good fortune, as will become apparent from later instalments of my story.
Now I began to tone down my behaviour, since I had such great hopes of soon being made ensign. I associated more and more with the officers and with the young noblemen who were hoping to achieve what I imagined would soon be mine. That made them my worst enemies, though to my face they behaved as if they were my best friends; the lieutenant-colonel was no longer so well-disposed towards me either because he had been ordered to promote me over the heads of his relatives. My captain, an old miser, also bore me a grudge because I had much finer horses, clothes and arms than he and no longer treated him to free drink as liberally as before. He would have been happier to see my head chopped off than an ensign’s post promised me, since he had hoped to inherit my splendid horses.
The lieutenant hated me for a careless word I had let slip recently. It happened during the last expedition when we were both sent to act as look-out in a particularly exposed position. When it was my turn to keep watch, which had to be done lying down, even though it was pitch dark, the lieutenant crawled up to me on his belly, like a snake, and said, ‘Look-out, can you see anything?’ to which I replied, ‘Yes, sir.’
‘What? What?’ he said.
‘I can see that you’re afraid’, I said.
From then on I was completely out of favour with him and I was always the first to be sent wherever the danger was greatest. He kept looking for any opportunity to give me a good thrashing before I was made ensign, because until then I could not resist. The sergeants were no less hostile to me either because I was preferred to them. Even the love and friendship of the ordinary soldiers was beginning to waver, since it looked as if I despised them because, as I said, I had started associating more with my betters, who liked me none the better for it.
The worst thing about all this was that no one told me how everybody was against me and I was not aware of it myself because those who would rather have seen me dead were most friendly to my face. In my blindness I felt secure and grew more and more arrogant. And even when I did know that some people were annoyed – for example nobles and officers of rank when I cut a more splendid figure than them – that still didn’t stop me. After I had been made lance-corporal I thought nothing of wearing a doublet that cost sixty thalers, fine red breeches and white satin sleeves, trimmed all over with gold and silver, which was what the highest officers wore at the time, so that I stuck out like a sore thumb. I was a young fool with my spendthrift ways. Had I behaved differently, had I used the money I threw away on this finery to grease the right palms, I would not only have soon become ensign, I would not have made so many enemies. And as if that were not enough, I decked out my best horse – the one Tearaway had taken from the Hessian captain – with such a saddle, bridle and other accoutrements that when I mounted it you would have thought me a noble knight, another St. George even.
Nothing annoyed me more than the fact that I wasn’t a nobleman and so could not dress my servant and groom in my livery. I thought to myself, everything has to start somewhere, if you can get a coat of arms, that will mean you already have your own livery, and when you become ensign, you have to have a seal, even if you’re not Lord So-and-so. It was not long before I acted on this idea and had an earl marshal devise a coat of arms for me. It had three red masks on a white field; the crest was the bust of a young jester in calfskin costume with two hare’s ears and little bells hanging down at the front. I thought this best suited my name, Simplicius. I also wanted to have the fool to remind me, in my future greatness, of what I had been in Hanau, to stop me becoming too haughty, for I already had no small opinion of myself. Thus I became the first of my name, family and escutcheon, and if anyone had tried to make fun of me because of it, he would certainly have found me offering him the choice of swords or pistols.
Although at the time I wasn’t yet interested in women, I used to accompany the nobles when they went visiting young ladies, of whom there were many in the town, in order to let myself be seen and to show off my fine hair, clothes and plumes. I have to say that as far as my looks were concerned I was preferred to all others, but at the same time I overheard the spoilt minxes compare me to a handsome, well carved wooden statue, completely lacking in spirit and sparkle, for my outward appearance was the only thing they liked about me. Apart from playing the lute, there was nothing I could do or say to please them, since I still knew nothing about love-making. However, when those who were at ease in the company of young ladies also started making fun of my wooden manner and gaucheness, just to curry favour with them and show off their own fluency, I simply said I was happy at the moment to get my pleasure out of a gleaming sword or a good musket. The ladies backed me up, which annoyed the others so much that they secretly swore to kill me, though there was not one of them had the guts to challenge me, or to give me cause to challenge him. A slap would have been enough, or a mild insult, especially since I gave them all a provocative stare. From this the ladies guessed I must be a pretty resolute young man and said out loud that my good looks and sense of honour were more persuasive than all the compliments Cupid ever devised, which only made the others angrier than ever.
Chapter 12
How Lady Luck unexpectedly presented the Huntsman with a noble gift
I had two fine horses that were my pride and joy; every day when I had nothing else to do I exercised them in the riding-school or through the town and fields. It wasn’t that the horses had anything to learn, I just wanted people to see that these beautiful beasts belonged to me. When I went cantering down a street or, rather, the horse pranced down it with me on its back, the simple folk would watch me and say to each other, ‘Look, that’s the Huntsman. What a fine horse! What a magnificent plume!’ or, ‘Lord, look at the man!’ and I would prick up my ears and wallow in it, as if the Queen of Sheba had compared me to Solomon in all his glory. But, fool that I was, I didn’t hear what sensible people thought or my enemies said of me. The latter doubtless hoped I would break my neck because they could not match me; others
certainly thought that if everyone got their due I would not be riding round in such splendour. In a word, the wisest doubtless considered me a young show-off whose ostentation would not last long, since it was based on a poor foundation, being supported by uncertain booty alone. And to tell the truth, I must admit that this assessment was not far wrong, even though at the time I couldn’t see it. All I knew was that I could make things hot for any man who had to deal with me, so that even though I was little more than a child I could still pass as a good soldier. But what made me such a great personage was the fact that nowadays the least stable-boy can shoot the greatest hero in the world dead. Had gunpowder not been invented my main food would have been humble pie.
It was my custom on these outings to ride over every path and track, every ditch, marsh, thicket, hill and stream in order to familiarise myself with them and fix them in my memory so that if it ever came to a skirmish with the enemy I could exploit any advantage a place might offer for attack or defence. With this in mind I was once riding along an old wall not far from the town where there had formerly been a house. As soon as I saw it I thought it would be an ideal spot to lie in ambush, or to retreat to, especially if we dragoons were outnumbered and pursued by cavalry. I rode into the courtyard, the walls of which were in a fairly ruinous state, to see whether one could take refuge there on horseback if necessary and how it could be defended on foot. I rode round, inspecting everything closely, but when I was about to ride past the cellar, the walls of which were still sound, I could not get my horse, which was usually never afraid of anything, to go where I wanted, despite all my coaxing and cajoling. I spurred him till I began to feel sorry for him, but it was still no use. I dismounted and led him by the bridle down the ruined steps, which was what he was shying at, to have a look at the place for future reference. He still kept backing as much as he could, but with much coaxing and stroking I eventually managed to get him down. As I patted him I realised he was sweating with fear and his eyes were fixed on one corner of the cellar where he absolutely refused to go, yet where I could not see the slightest thing to make the most skittish animal take fright.
While I stood there in amazement, watching the horse trembling with fear, I was also suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread, as if I were being pulled up by the hair and at the same time had a bucket of cold water poured over me. I still couldn’t see anything, but my horse’s strange behaviour made me imagine we must both be under a spell and that I would never get out of the cellar alive. So I tried to go back up the steps, but my horse would not follow, which made me even more terrified and so confused that I didn’t know what I was doing. Finally, taking one of my pistols, I tied my horse to the trunk of a large elderberry that was growing there, intending to go and look for some people to help me get my horse out. While I was doing this, however, it occurred to me that perhaps there was a treasure hidden in the old masonry and that was why the place was haunted. I had a closer look round, especially at the corner where my horse refused to go, and I noticed that one part of the wall there, about the size of an ordinary window-shutter, was different from the rest in both colour and workmanship. When I started to go towards it I had the same feeling as before, as if my hair were standing on end, which strengthened my suspicion that there must be a treasure hidden there.
I would ten, no, a hundred times sooner have been exchanging shots with an enemy than be seized with such dread. Something was tormenting me but I had no idea what it could be, since there was nothing to be seen or heard. I took the other pistol from the saddle holster, intending to escape myself and leave the horse there, but I could not get up the steps, it felt as if there was a strong wind pushing me back. That really made my flesh creep. Finally it occurred to me to fire my pistols to get the farmers working in the fields nearby to come and help me and, since I could think of no other way of getting out of that eerie, bewitched place, that is what I did. I was so angry or desperate (even now I don’t know exactly what I felt) that I aimed my pistols at the spot where the cause of this uncanny experience seemed to lie. The two balls hit the aforementioned piece of masonry so hard they made a hole in it big enough to put both hands through. After the shots my horse neighed and pricked up his ears, which revived my spirits. I don’t know whether that was the point at which the ghost or wraith disappeared or whether the beast was simply glad to hear the shooting, but it gave me new heart. I no longer felt afraid, nor could I feel anything trying to impede me, so I went over to the hole my pistol shots had made. As I started to pull down the wall I discovered such a large treasure of silver, gold and jewels that I could still be living in comfort on it today, if only I had managed to keep it and invest it safely. There were six dozen silver cups in the old German style, a large gold chalice, several double goblets, four silver and one gold salt cellar, an old German gold chain, various diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds set in rings and other items of jewellery, a whole casket full of large pearls, though all of them were spoilt or discoloured, and then in a mouldy leather bag eighty of the oldest and finest Joachimsthalers. There were also eight hundred and ninety-three gold coins with the French coat of arms and an eagle on them which everybody refused to accept because, so they said, they could not read the inscription.
The coins, rings and jewels I stuffed into my pockets and down my boots, breeches and holsters; since I was only out riding for pleasure and had not brought my saddle-bag, I cut the blanket off my saddle (it was lined so served well as a sack), packed the rest of the silver in it, hung the gold chain round my neck, leapt back up into the saddle and set off for my quarters. As I was coming out of the courtyard I noticed two peasants who ran off the moment they saw me. Having six legs and a level field to ride over, I easily caught up with them and asked them why they were trying to get away, what was it had frightened them so much? They told me they thought I was the ghost that lived in the deserted mansion and used to give people who came too close a terrible mauling. When I asked them more about it they told me that everyone was so afraid of the spectre that for years hardly anyone had gone near the place, apart from the occasional stranger who was lost and happened to end up there. The story going round the countryside was that there was an iron chest full of money there, guarded by a black dog and a maiden with a curse on her. According to the old story, which they had heard from their grandparents, a nobleman would come, a stranger who knew neither father nor mother, release the maiden from the curse, open the chest with a fiery key and take away the hidden money. They told me lots of other silly tales like that, but they are not worth wasting ink on. Finally I asked them what they were doing there, since it was a place they avoided. They said they had heard a shot and a loud cry, so had come running to see if there was anything they could do. I told them I had fired my pistols, hoping someone would come and help me as I had been very frightened, but knew nothing about a cry. They replied, ‘You could hear shots from this castle for a long time before anyone from the neighbourhood would go in. It’s such an uncanny place that we wouldn’t believe your lordship had been there if we hadn’t seen you riding out.’
Then they bombarded me with questions: What was it like in there? Had I seen the maiden? Had I seen the black dog on the iron chest? If I had had a mind to, I could have told them all kinds of tall stories, but I said nothing, not even that I had found the treasure. I just went on my way to my quarters where I examined and gloated over my find.
Chapter 13
Simplicius’s strange notions and castles in the air, and how he put his treasure into safe keeping
It is not without good reason that some people, who know the value of money, look on it as their god. If there is anyone who has experienced its impact, its almost divine powers, then that person is me. I know how someone feels who has a considerable supply of it; I have also learnt, and that more than once, what it is like not to have a penny. I think I could go so far as to say that its powers and effects are much greater than those of all precious stones. Like diamonds, it drives away m
elancholy; like emeralds it makes people love and enjoy their studies (which is why in general more children of rich than of poor parents become students); like rubies it takes away fear and makes people cheerful and happy; like garnets it often disturbs their sleep; on the other hand, like jacinth it also has great power to promote rest and sleep; like sapphires and amethysts it strengthens the heart and makes people glad, well-behaved, lively and mild; like chalcedony it drives away bad dreams, makes people happy, sharpens their wits and, if they are in dispute with someone, makes them win (especially if they grease the judge’s palm with it); it gets rid of lustful and lecherous thoughts, especially since beautiful women can be had for money. All in all, money can do more than one can say (I have already said something on this subject in my book Black and White) if only you know how to use it and invest it properly.
The money I had amassed from plunder and finding this treasure had a strange effect. In the first place it made me even more arrogant than I had been, so that it irked me that I was only called Simplicius. It disturbed my sleep, like amethyst, because I spent many nights lying awake wondering how best to invest it and get even more. It improved my arithmetic, since I worked out how much the silver and gold objects might be worth and added the sum to the rest that I had hidden here and there or kept with me in bags. It came to a pretty penny even without the precious stones! My hoard also gave me a taste of money’s mischievous and evil nature by using me to demonstrate the saying, ‘The more you have, the more you want’. I became such a miser anyone would have hated me. It also put all sorts of foolish plans and strange notions into my head, but I didn’t follow up any of the ideas I had. Once I thought of leaving the army and settling down somewhere to spend my days filling my stomach and staring out of the window, but I very quickly changed my mind when I considered what a free life I led and what hopes I had of becoming a person of consequence. I said to myself, ‘Hey, Simplicius, why don’t you get ennobled and use your moneybags to recruit a company of dragoons for the Emperor? You’d be the perfect young gentleman and who knows how high you might rise in time.’ However, when I remembered that my greatness could be cut short by one disastrous engagement or quickly brought to an end along with the war by a peace treaty, that plan lost its appeal. Then I started wishing I had reached my majority, for if I had, I told myself, I would find a beautiful, rich, young wife, buy a noble estate somewhere and lead a quiet life. I would raise cattle, which would easily ensure me a decent income. However, I knew I was much too young and let that plan drop too.
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