Simplicissimus

by Johann Grimmelshausen

  I often went to see the oldest pastor in the town. He lent me many books from his library and whenever I took one back he would discuss all kinds of thing with me, for we got on very well with each other. Once not only the Martinmas geese and sausage soup were over but also the Christmas festivities I gave him a bottle of Strasbourg brandy as a New Year’s present which, following the Westphalian custom, he liked to sip with sugar candy. Then I paid him a visit and arrived just as he was reading my Chaste Joseph, which my landlord had lent him without my knowledge. I went pale when I saw such a learned man holding a work of mine in his hands, especially when you remember that a man is best known from his writings. He told me to sit down and praised my inventiveness, but criticised me for spending so much time on the love affairs of Potiphar’s wife, quoting from St Matthew, ‘“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” And if you yourself didn’t know how a fornicator feels’, he went on, ‘you wouldn’t have been able to describe that woman’s passions so vividly.’

  I replied that what I had written was not my own invention but that I had taken it from other books simply as a literary exercise.

  ‘Oh, I can well believe that’, he said, ‘but I can assure you that I know more about you than you imagine.’ This gave me something of a shock and I wondered, ‘Was it old Nick told you that?’ When he saw me blush he went on, ‘You are young and strong, handsome and at leisure, and from what I hear you have no worries, indeed you live a life of luxury. Therefore I urge you to bear the dangers of your situation in mind. Beware the beast with braided tresses if you care for your happiness and salvation. You may well think, “What business is it of the pastor’s what I do or don’t do? I don’t take orders from him.”’ (Got it in one, I thought.) ‘It is true my duty is to care for the soul. But you have been generous to me and I can assure you that your well-being here on earth is of as much concern to me, as a Christian, as if you were my very own son. It is a waste which you cannot justify before your heavenly Father to hide the talents he has given you, to misuse the noble mind which I can see in this book. My honest advice as a fatherly friend would be to use your youth and money, which you are wasting at the moment, on study, so that now and in the future you can be of some benefit to God, mankind and yourself. And give up warfare for which, as I hear, you have such a great liking, before you suffer such a disaster that you will demonstrate the truth of the saying, “A young soldier makes an old beggar”.’

  I listened to this sermon very impatiently. I wasn’t used to being spoken to like that. However, I didn’t let it show so as not to lose my reputation for politeness. I even thanked him heartily for his honest advice, which I promised to think over. But to myself I thought, Like shit I will! What business is it of these bible-bashers how I live my life. Just at that time I was at the height of my good fortune and was unwilling to give up the delights of love now I had tasted them. That is what happens to such warnings when young people have got the bit between their teeth and are galloping towards their own destruction.

  Chapter 20

  How the Huntsman gave the honest pastor other fish to fry so that he did not need to correct his own excesses

  I was neither so drowned in lust, nor so stupid that I was not determined to keep everyone’s friendship for as long as I intended to stay in the fortress, that is until the winter was over. I realised what damage it could do for anyone to attract the hatred of the priests since their opinion is highly regarded in all nations, whatever their religion. So the next day I put my tail firmly between my legs, trotted off to the pastor and gave him such a splendid load of bullshit, all dressed up in long words, about how I had resolved to follow his advice that he was delighted, as I could tell from the expression on his face.

  ‘Oh yes’, I said, ‘I have found in your reverence the kind of angelic counsellor I have long lacked, even back In Soest’, and I asked if he would be so good as to advise me which of the universities I should consider attending once the winter was over or the weather suitable for travel.

  He replied that he had studied in Leyden, but he would advise me to go to Geneva, since he could tell from my accent that I came from southern Germany. ‘Jesus and Mary!’ I said, ‘Geneva’s farther from my home than Leyden.’

  ‘What’s this I hear?’ he said in alarm, ‘Does that mean you’re a Papist? God, how I’ve been deceived!’

  ‘How do you mean, sir?’ I replied. ‘Do I have to be a Papist just because I don’t want to go to Geneva?’

  ‘No’, he said, ‘I can tell from the way you called on Mary.’

  ‘Is it wrong for a Christian to speak the name of his Redeemer’s mother?’ I asked.

  ‘I suppose not’, he said, ‘but I beg you in the name of the Lord our God to tell me which religion you belong to. Even though I have seen you in my church every Sunday I doubt very much whether you believe in the Gospel, since during the recent feast to celebrate the birth of Christ you did not come to the Lord’s table either with us of the Reformed Church or the Lutherans.’

  ‘As you can hear’, I replied, ‘I am a Christian. If I weren’t I wouldn’t have attended services so often. Beyond that, however, I must confess that I am neither Papist nor Protestant. I simply believe what is contained in the Twelve Articles of the Christian Faith and I refuse to commit myself to any side until one or the other can furnish convincing proof that it is the one true religion.’

  ‘Now I really do believe you are a soldier at heart, ready to risk your life’, he said, ‘since you live without church or religion and with no thought for the future, recklessly putting your eternal salvation in jeopardy. How can a mortal man, who is going to be damned or saved at the end, be so rash? Were you brought up in Hanau and is that all you were taught of Christianity? Tell me, why are you not following your parents in the pure Christian religion? And why will you not acknowledge the Reformed Faith before all others when its foundations are so clear for all to see, both in nature and in Holy Writ, that neither the Papists nor the Lutherans will ever be able to overturn them?’

  ‘But, pastor’, I answered, ‘that is what all the other churches say of their faith as well. Which one should I believe? Do you think it’s easy for me to entrust my soul’s salvation to one that the other two decry and accuse of false doctrine? You should read – but with my impartial eye! – the things Conrad Vetter and Johann Nas have to say in print against Luther, what Luther and his supporters say against the Pope and especially what Spangenberg has said against St. Francis, who for hundreds of years has been looked up to as a holy and godly man. Which one should I join when each is screaming that the others are the work of the devil? Do you think I am wrong to wait until my mind has developed sufficiently for me to be able to tell black from white? Would anyone advise me to jump straight in, like a fly into hot porridge? I hope, in all conscience, you would not, sir. What is certain is that one is right and the other two wrong. But if I were to choose without mature reflection, I could just as well end up with the wrong one and spend all eternity regretting it. I would sooner keep off the roads altogether than take the wrong one. Besides, there are more religions than just the ones we have in Europe, that of the Armenians, for example, the Abyssinians, Greeks and Georgians, and whichever one I choose I must join my fellow believers in denouncing all the others. But if you will be my Ananias and make the scales fall from my eyes I will be for ever grateful and follow the faith you yourself profess.’

  To this he answered, ‘You are in great error, but I pray to God that He will enlighten you and pull you out of the mire. For my part I will give you such proof of the truth of our confession from Holy Writ that all the forces of Hell could not shake it.’ I replied that I would look forward to it eagerly, but to myself I thought, ‘I’ll be quite happy with your religion if it stops you going on about my love affairs.’ You can see from this what a wicked, godless wretch I was to put the pastor to all that wasted effort simply so that he would leave me in peace as far as my life of depravity was concerned, th
inking that by the time he had finished with his proofs I would be over the hills and far away.

  Chapter 21

  How the Huntsman unexpectedly became a married man

  Opposite my lodgings lived a superannuated lieutenant-colonel with an extremely beautiful daughter who gave herself aristocratic airs. I would have very much liked to make her acquaintance and, although she did not at first seem to be the kind of girl whom I could love to the exclusion of all others and for ever, I took many a walk past her windows and gave them ever more longing looks. But she was so closely guarded that I had not once been able to speak to her. I couldn’t just march straight in, since I didn’t know her parents and in any case they seemed of much too high rank for one so lowly born as I felt I was. I got closest to her when we were going into or out of church; I timed my entrances and exits so well that I often managed to give a few sighs, at which I was a master even though they came from a false heart. However, she took them so coolly that I assumed she would not be as easily seduced as the daughter of an ordinary citizen, and the more unlikely it seemed I would get her, the hotter my desire for her became.

  The star that shone over our first meeting was the one the students carry around at that time of the year in everlasting remembrance of the star that guided the Three Wise Men to Bethlehem, and I took it to be a good omen that it was one of them that lit my way to her lodgings when her father himself sent for me. ‘Monsieur’, he said, ‘I have asked you to come because of your neutral position between townspeople and soldiers. I need an impartial witness for a project I have involving both sides.’ I assumed he had some important matter in mind, since the table was covered with papers and writing materials, and assured him I was happy to offer my services for any lawful business and that I would consider it a great honour if I should be in the fortunate position of being able to give him any help he wanted.

  All it turned out to be was the setting-up of a kingdom, as is the custom in many places at that time of year: it was Twelfth Night, the Feast of the Three Kings, and I was to see that things were done properly and the offices shared out fairly by lot, without respect of person. For this important business, at which his secretary was also present, the lieutenant-colonel had sweets and wine served, as he was very fond of his drink and in any case it was after dinner. The daughter drew the lots, I read out the names and the secretary wrote them down while the parents looked on. There is not much else to tell about our first meeting, but the parents complained about the long winter nights and gave me to understand that, if it would help me pass the time, I would be welcome to visit them in the evenings as they themselves did not go out very much. That was precisely what I had long hoped for.

  After that evening, when I only indulged in a little mild flirting with the girl, I once more set my lures and played the giddy fool so that both the young lady and her parents must have thought I had swallowed the bait, though I was not even half in earnest. Just like the witches, I decked myself out in my finery as night was falling and I was going to see her, and the day I spent poring over my romances. From them I composed love-letters to the object of my affections, as if we lived five hundred miles apart or had not seen each other for years. Eventually I became a familiar visitor, since the parents put no particular obstacles in the way of my courtship; indeed, they even suggested I should teach their daughter to play the lute. Now I could go in and out whenever I liked, not just in the evening, so that I changed my usual ditty:

  Like the bat I shun the light

  And only spread my wings at night

  and composed a song rejoicing in the good fortune which had brought me, after many a pleasant evening, such blissful days when I could feast my eyes on my beloved. In the same song I also bemoaned the harshness of fate that did not allow me to spend my nights, like my days, in the delights of love. Although it turned out a little free, I sang it to my beloved with adoring sighs and a charming melody. The lute also played its part joining me, as it were, in begging the girl to cooperate in making my nights as pleasurable as my days. The answer I got was rather cool. She was a very intelligent girl and knew how to put me down politely for my flights of fancy, however neatly I delivered them. I was very careful not to speak of marriage and if it ever cropped up in the conversation I made sure anything I said was very ambiguous. Her sister, who was already married, noticed this and made sure we were not left alone together as much as before. She could see that her sister was deeply in love with me and that in the long run it was likely to end in tears.

  There is no point in my relating every trivial stage of my courtship in detail, every romance that has been printed contains more than enough of that kind of tomfoolery. All the reader needs to know is that eventually I was allowed first of all to kiss my sweetikins and then to take certain other liberties. This much desired progress I pursued with all kinds of persuasion until my beloved let me in at night and I slipped into bed with her as if we belonged together. Now, since everyone knows what usually happens in this kind of story, you’re probably thinking I did something improper. Not in the least! All my hopes were dashed. I encountered more resistance than I would ever have thought possible in a woman. The only things she was interested in were her reputation and marriage, and even though I promised her the latter with the most bloodcurdling oaths she refused to grant me anything before we were pronounced man and wife. She did permit me to stay lying beside her in bed and, quite worn out with disgust, I fell into a peaceful sleep.

  My awakening, however, was rude. At four in the morning the lieutenant-colonel was standing beside the bed, a pistol in one hand and a torch in the other. ‘Arquebusier!’ he shouted to his servant, much more loudly than necessary since he was standing beside him, sword in hand. ‘Quick, fetch the priest!’ This was what woke me up and I immediately realised what danger I was in. ‘Oh no’, I thought, ‘that’ll be so you can make your confession before he makes mincemeat of you.’ I kept my eyes shut, hoping he would go away, but he said, ‘You libertine! Bringing shame and dishonour on my house! Would I do you wrong if I broke your necks, both yours and this trollop’s who has become your whore? Oh you beast, how is it that I haven’t already torn the heart out of your body, chopped it up and thrown it to the dogs?’ At that he ground his teeth and rolled his eyes like a deranged animal.

  I didn’t know what to do and my bedmate could do nothing but cry. When I had finally recovered from the shock, however, I tried to protest our innocence, but he just told me to shut up and started upbraiding me again, telling me I had repaid the great trust he had put in me with the worst betrayal possible. Then his wife arrived and launched into a fresh sermon so that I wished I was anywhere else but there, even lying in the middle of a prickly thorn bush would have been better. I do believe that if the servant had not come back with the pastor she would have still been going on two hours later.

  Before they arrived I had tried to get out of bed several times, but the lieutenant-colonel’s threatening gestures kept me lying there. Now I realised how a man’s courage drains away when he’s caught in the act and I knew how a burglar feels when he’s been apprehended after having broken in but before he has stolen anything. I thought back to the time when, if I had been attacked by the lieutenant-colonel and two arquebusiers, I would have straightaway sent all three of them packing. Now I was lying there like any other coward without the courage to raise my voice, never mind my fists.

  ‘Isn’t that a fine sight!’ he said to the pastor. ‘And I have to call you to witness my shame!’ Scarcely had he spoken these words than he started ranting and raging again so that all I could understand were bits about ‘wringing his neck’ and ‘washing my hands in blood’. He was foaming at the mouth like a wild boar and behaving as if he were about to go out of his mind. I kept thinking, ‘Now he’s going to put a bullet through your head.’ The pastor had to hold him back physically, to stop him, as he put it, doing something he would later regret.

  ‘Come now, colonel’, he said, ‘listen to reason.
Remember the phrase about making a virtue of necessity. This fine young couple – you would be hard put to it to find another like it in the whole land – is not the first, and will certainly not be the last to give in to the irresistible power of love. This misdeed, for misdeed we must call it, can easily be put right by the couple themselves. I cannot approve of this anticipation of wedlock, but that does not mean these young people deserve to be hung, drawn and quartered. No one knows about this indiscretion and there will be no stain on your reputation, colonel, if you can just keep it secret, forgive them, consent to their marriage and announce it by publishing the banns in church in the usual way.’

  ‘What!?’ he replied, ‘I have to go cap in hand and see that they come out of it with honour, instead of giving them the punishment they deserve? I was going to tie them up together and drown them in the Lippe before it gets light. No, you must marry them on the spot, that’s why I sent for you. Otherwise I’ll wring their necks like a couple of chickens.’

  I thought, ‘What can you do? It’s a case of needs must when the devil drives. And you certainly won’t have to be ashamed of the girl. In fact, when you consider your own origins, you’re scarcely good enough to do up her shoelaces.’ Out loud, however, I swore by all that was holy that we had done nothing to be ashamed of, but the answer I got was that then we should have behaved in such a way that no one would suspect we had done anything to be ashamed of. As things were, the suspicion had been aroused and wouldn’t go away.