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CHAPTER XI  DISCOURSETH OF FOODS, HOUSEHOLD STUFF, AND OTHER NECESSARY
CONCERNS, WHICH FOLK MUST HAVE IN THIS EARTHLY LIFE

    In that wood did I abide for about two years, until the hermit died,
and after his death somewhat longer than a half-year.  And therefore it
seemeth me good to tell to the curious reader, who often desireth to know
even the smallest matters, of our doings, our ways and works, and how we
spent or life.
    Now our food was vegetables of all kinds, turnips, cabbage, beans,
pease, and the like:  nor did we despise beech-nuts, wild apples, pears,
and cherries:  yea, and our hunger often made even acorns savory to us;
our bread or, to say more truly, our cakes, we baked on hot askes, and
they remade of Italian rye beaten fine.  In winter we would catch birds
with springes and snares; but in spring and summer God bestowed upon us
young fledglings from their nest.  Often must we make out with snails and
frogs:  and so was fishing, both with net and line, convenient to us: 
for close to our dwelling there flowed a brook, full of fish and
crayfish, all which did help to make our rough vegetable diet palatable. 
Once on a time did we catch a young wild pig, and this we penned in a
stall, and did feed him with acorns and beech-nuts, so fatted him and at
last did eat him; for my hermit knew it could be no sin to eat that which
God hath created to such end for the whole human race.
    Of salt we needed but little and spices not at all:  for we might not
arouse our desire to drink, seeing that we had no cellar:  what little
salt we wanted a good pastor furnished us who dwelt some fifteen miles
away from us, and of whom I shall yet have much to tell.
    Now as concerns our household stuff, we had enough:  for we had a
shovel, a pick, an axe, a hatchet, and an iron pot for cooking, which was
indeed not our own, but lent to us by the said pastor:  each of us had an
old blunt knife, which same were our own possessions, and no more:  more
than that needed we naught, neither dishes, plates, spoons, nor forks: 
neither kettles, frying-pans, gridirons, spits, salt-cellars, no, nor any
other table and kitchen ware:  for our iron pot was our dish, our hands
our forks and spoons:  and if we would drink, we could do so through a
pipe from the spring or else we dipped our mouths like Gideon’s
soldiers#1 1.  Then for garments:  of wool, or silk, of cotton, and of
linen, as for beds, table-covers, and tapestries, we had none save what
we wore upon our bodies:  for we deemed it enough if we could shield
ourselves from rain and frost.  At other times we kept no rule or order
in our household, save on Sundays and holy-days, at which time we would
start on our way at midnight, so that we might come early enough to
escape men’s notice, to the said pastor’s church, which was a little away
from the village, and there might attend service.  When we came thither
we betook ourselves to the broken organ, from which place we could see
both altar and pulpit:  and when I first saw the pastor go up to the
pulpit I asked my hermit what he would do in that great tub!  So, service
finished, we went home as secretly as we had come, and when we found
ourselves then once more at home, with weary body and weary feet, then
did we eat foul food with fair appetite:  then would the hermit spend the
rest of the day in praying and in the instructing of me in holy things.
    On working days we would do that which seemed most necessary to do,
according as it happened, and as such was required by the time of year
and by our needs:  now would we work in the garden:  another time we
gathered together the rich mould in shady places and out of hollow trees
to improve our garden therewith in place of dung; again we would weave
baskets or fishing-nets or chop firewood, or go a-fishing, or do aught to
banish idleness.  Yet among all these occupations did the good hermit
never cease to instruct me faithfully in all good things:  and meanwhile
did I learn, in such a hard life, to endure hunger, thirst, heat, cold,
and great labour, and before all things to know God and how one should
serve Him best, which was the chiefest thing of all.  And indeed my
faithful hermit would have me know no more, for he held it was enough for
any Christian to attain his end and aim, if he did but constantly pray
and work:  so it came about that, though I was pretty well instructed in
ghostly matters, and knew my Christian belief well enough, and could
speak the German language as well as a talking spelling-book, yet I
remained the most simple lad in the world:  so that when I left the wood
I was such a poor, sorry creature that no dog would have left his bone to
run after me.

CHAPTER XII:  TELLS OF A NOTABLE FINE WAY, TO DIE HAPPY AND TO HAVE
ONESELF BURIED AT SMALL COST

    So had I spent two years or thereabouts, and had scarce grown
accustomed to the hard life of a hermit, when one day my best friend on
earth took his pick, have me the shovel, and led me by the hand,
according to his daily custom, to our garden, where we were wont to say
our prayers.
    “Now Simplicissimus, dear child,” said he, “inasmuch as, God be
praised, the time is at hand when I must part from this earth and must
pay the debt of nature, and leave thee behind me in this world, and
whereas I do partly foresee the future course of they life and do know
well that thou wilt not long abide in this wilderness, therefore did I
desire to strengthen thee in the way of virtue which thou hast entered
on, and to five thee some lessons for thy instruction by means of which
thou shouldest so rule thy life that, as though by an unfailing clue,
thou mightest find thy way to eternal happiness, and so with all elect
saints mightest be found worthy for ever to behold the face of God in
that other life.”
    These words did drown mine eyes in tears, even as once the enemy’s
device did drown the town of Villingen; in a word, they were so terrible
that I could not endure them, but said:  “Beloved father, wilt thou then
leave me alone in this wild wood?  Must I then…?”  And more I could not
say, for my heart’s sorrow was, by reason of the overflowing love which I
bore to my true father, so grievous that I sank at his feet as if I were
dead.  Yet did he raise me up and comfort me so far as time and
opportunity did allow, and would shew me mine own error, in that he
asked, would I rebel against the decree of the Almighty?  “and knowest
thou not,” says he, “that neither heaven nor hell can do that?  Nay, nay,
my son!  Why dost thou propose further to burden my weak body, which
itself is but desirous of rest?  Thinkest thou to force me to sojourn
longer in this vale of tears?  Ah no, my son, let me go, for in any case
neither with lamentation and tears, nor still less with my good will,
canst thou compel me to dwell longer in this misery when I am by God’s
express will called away therefrom:  instead of all this useless clamour,
follow thou my last words, which are these:  the longer thou livest seek
to know thyself the better, and if thou live as long as Methuselah2#2_,
yet let not such practice depart from they heart:  for that most men do
come to perdition this is the cause--namely, that they know not what they
have been and what they can or must be.”  And further he exhorted me, I
should at all times beware of bad company:  for the harm of that was
unspeakable.  Of that he game me an example, saying:  “If thou puttest a
drop of malmsey3 into a vessel full of vinegar, forthwith it turns into
vinegar:  but if thou pour a drop of vinegar into malmsey, that drop will
disappear into the wine.  Beloved son, before all things be steadfast: 
for whoso endureth to the end he shall be saved; but if it happen,
contrary to my hopes, that thou from human weakness dost fall, then by a
fitting penitence raise thyself up again.”
    Now this careful and pious man gave me but this brief counsel, not
because he knew no more, but because in sober truth I seemed to him, by
reason of my youth, not able to comprehend more in such a case, and
again, because few words be better to hold in remembrance than long
discourse, and if they have pith and point do work greater good when they
be pondered on than any long sermon, which a man may well understand as
spoken and yet is wont presently to forget.  And these three points:  to
know oneself:  to avoid bad company:  and to stand steadfast; this holy
man, without doubt, deemed good and necessary because he had made trial
of them in his own case and had not found them to fail:  for, coming to
know himself, he eschewed not only bad company but that of the whole
world, and in that plan did persevere to the end, on which doubtless all
salvation doth depend.
    So when he had thus spoken, he began with his mattock#4_ 4 to dig his
own grave:  and I helped as best I could in whatever way he bade me; yet
I did not conceive to what end all this was.  Then said he:  “My dear and
only true son (for besides thee I never begat creature for the honour of
our Creator), when my soul is gone to its own place, then do thy duty to
my body, and pay me the last honors:  cover me up with these same clods
which we have even now dug from this pit.”  And thereupon he took me in
his arms and, kissing me, pressed me harder to his breast than would seem
possible for a man so weak as he appeared to be.  And, “Dear child,” says
he, “I commend thee to God his protection, and die the more cheerfully
because I hope He will receive thee therein.”  Yet could I do naught but
lament and cry, yea, did hang upon the chains which he wore on his neck,
and thought thereby to prevent him from leaving me.  But “My son,” says
he, “let me go, that I may see if the grave be long enough for me.”  And
therewith he laid aside the chains together with his outer garment, and
so entered the pit even as one that will lie down to sleep, saying,
“Almighty God, receive again the soul that Thou hast given:  Lord, into
Thy hands I commend my spirit.”  Thereupon did he calmly close his lips
and his eyes:  while I stood there like a stockfish, and dreamt not that
his dear soul could so have left the body:  for often I had seen him in
such trances:  and so now, as was my wont in such a case, I waited there
for hours praying by the grave.  But when my beloved hermit arose not
again, I went down into the grave to him and began to shake, to kiss, and
to caress him:  but there was no life in him, for grim and pitiless death
had robbed the poor Simplicissimus of his holy companionship.  Then did I
bedew or, to say better, did embalm with my tears his lifeless body, and
when I had for a long time run up and down with miserable cries, began to
heap earth upon him, with more sighs than hopefuls:  and hardly had I
covered his face when I must go down again and uncover it afresh that I
might see it and kiss it once more.  And so it went on all day till I had
finished, and in this way ended all the funeral; an “exequiae” and “ludi
gladiatorii” wherein neither bier, coffin, pall, lights, bearers, nor
mourners were at hand, nor any clergy to sing over the dead.

CHAPTER XIII  HOW SIMPLICISSIMUS WAS DRIVEN ABOUT LIKE A STRAW IN A
WHIRLPOOL

    Now a few days after the hermit’s decease I betook myself to the
pastor abovementioned and declared to him my master’s death, and
therewith besought counsel from him how I should act in such a case.  And
though he much dissuaded me from living longer in the forest, yet did I
boldly tread in on my predecessor’s footsteps, inasmuch as for the whole
summer I did all that a holy monk should do.  But as time changeth all
things, so by degrees the grief which I felt for my hermit grew less and
less, and the sharp cold of winter without quenched the heat of my
steadfast purpose within.  And the more I began to falter the lazier did
I become in my prayers, for in place of dwelling ever upon godly and
heavenly thoughts, I let myself be overcome by the desire to see the
world:  and inasmuch as for this purpose I could do no good in my forest,
I determined to go again to the said pastor and ask if he again would
counsel me to leave the wood.  To that end I betook myself to his
village, which when I came thither I found myself in flames:  for a party
of troopers had but now plundered and burned it, and of the peasants
killed some, driven some away, and some had made prisoners, among whom
was the pastor himself.  Ah God, how full is man’s life of care and
disappointment!  Scarce hath one misfortune ended and lo!  we are in
another.  I wonder not that the heathen philosopher Timon5#5_set up many
gallows at Athens, whereupon men might string themselves up, and so with
brief pain make an end to their wretched life.
    These troopers were even now ready to march, and had the pastor
fastened by a rope to lead him away.  Some cried, “Shoot him down, the
rogue!”  Others would have money from him.  But he, lifting up his hands
to heaven, begged, for the sake of the Last Judgment, for forbearance and
Christian compassion, but in vain; for one of them rode him down and
dealt him such a blow on the head that he fell flat, and commended his
soul to God.  Nor did the remainder of the captured peasants fare any
better.  But even when it seemed these troopers, in their cruel tyranny,
had clean lost their wits, came such a swarm of armed peasants out of the
wood, that it seemed a wasps’-nest had been stirred.  And these began to
yell so frightfully an so furiously to attack with sword and musket that
all my hair stood on end; and never had I been at such a merrymaking
before:  for the peasants of the Spessart and the Vogelsberg are as
little wont as are the Hessians and men of the Sauerland and the Black
Forest to let themselves be crowed over on their own dunghill.  So away
went the troopers, and not only left behind the cattle they had captured,
but threw away bag and baggage also, and so cast all their booty for the
peasants:  yet some of them fell into their hands.  This sport took from
me well-nigh all desire to see the world, for I thought, if ‘tis all like
this, then is the wilderness far more pleasant.  Yet would I fain hear
what the pastor had to say of it, who was, by reason of wounds and blows
received, faint, weak, and feeble.  Yet he made shift to tell me he knew
not how to help or advise me, since he himself was now in a plight in
which he might well have to seek his bread by begging, and if I should
remain longer in the woods, I could hope no more for help from him;
since, as I saw with my own eyes, both his church and his parsonage were
in flames.  Thereupon I betook myself sorrowfully to my dwelling in the
wood, and because on this journey I had been but little comforted, yet on
the other hand had become more full of pious thoughts, therefore I
resolved never more to leave the wilderness:  and already I pondered
whether it were not possible for me to live without salt (which the
pastor had until now furnished me with) and so do without mankind
altogether.

CHAPTER XIV:  A QUAINT COMEDIA OF FIVE PEASANTS

    So now that I might follow up on my design and become a true
anchorite, I put on my hermit’s hair-shirt which he had left me and
girded me with his chain over it: not indeed as if I needed it to mortify
my unruly flesh, but that I might be like to my fore-runner both in life
and in habit, and moreover might by such clothes be the better able to
protect myself against the rough cold of winter.  But the second day
after the above-mentioned village had been plundered and burnt, as I was
sitting in my hut and praying, at the same time roasting carrots for food
over the fire, here surrounded me forty or fifty musqueteers:  and these,
though amazed at the strangeness of my person, yet ransacked my hut,
seeking what was not there to find:  for nothing had I but books, and
these they threw this way and that as useless to them.  But at last, when
they regarded me more closely and saw by my feathers what a poor bird
they had caught, they could easily reckon there was poor booty to be
found where I was.  And much they wondered my hard way of life, and
shewed great pity for my tender youth, specially their officer that
commanded them:  for he shewed me respect, and earnestly besought me that
I would shew him and his men the way out of the wood wherein they had
long been wandering.  Nor did I refuse, but led them the nearest way to
the village, even where the before-mentioned pastor had been so ill
handled; for I knew no other road.
    Now before we were out of the wood, we espied some ten peasants, of
whom part were armed with musquets, while the rest were busied with
burying something.  So our musqueteers ran upon them, crying, “Stay! 
Stay!”  But they answered with a discharge of shot, and when they saw
they were outnumbered by the soldiers, away they went so quick that none
of the musqueteers, being weary, could overtake them.  So then they would
dig up again what the peasants had been burying:  and that was the easier
because they had left the mattocks and spades which they used lying
there.  But they had made few strokes with the pick when they heard a
voice from below crying out, “O ye wanton rogues, O ye worst of villains,
think ye that Heaven will leave your heathenish cruelty and tricks
unpunished?  Nay, for there live yet honest fellows by whom your
barbarity shall be paid in such wise that none of your fellow men shall
think you worth even a kick of his foot.”  So the soldiers looked on one
another in amazement, and knew not what to do.  For some thought they had
to deal with a ghost:  to me it seemed I was dreaming:  but the officer
bade them dig on stoutly.  And presently they came to a cask, which they
burst open, and therein found a fellow that had neither nose nor ears,
and yet still lived.  He, when he was somewhat revived, and had
recognized some of the troop, told them how on the day before, as some of
his regiment were a-foraging, the peasants had caught six of them.  And
of these they first of all, about an hour before, had shot five dead at
once, making them stand one behind another; and because the bullet,
having already passed through five bodies, did not reach him, who stood
sixth and last, they had cut off his nose and ears, yet before that had
forced him to render to five of them the filthiest service in the world*
.  But when he saw himself thus degraded by these rogues without shame or
knowledge of God, he had heaped upon them the vilest reproaches, though
they were willing now to let him go.  Yet in the hope one of them would
from annoyance send a ball through his head, he called them all by their
right names:  yet in vain.  Only this, that when he had thus chafed them
they had clapped him in the cask here present and buried him alive,
saying, since he so desired death they would not cheat him of his
amusement.
    Now while the fellow thus lamented the torments he had endured, came
another party of foot-soldiers by a cross road through the wood, who had
met the above-mentioned boors, caught five and shot the rest dead:  and
among the prisoners were four to whom that maltreated trooper had been
forced to do that filthy service a little before.  So now, when both
parties had found by their manner of hailing one another that they were
of the same army, they joined forces, and again must hear from the
trooper himself how it had fared with him and his comrades.  And there
might any man tremble and quake to see how these same peasants were
handled:  for some in their first fury would say, “Shoot them down,” but
others said, “Nay:  these wanton villains must we first properly torment:
 yea, and make them to understand in their own bodies what they have
deserved as regards the person of this same trooper.”  And all the time
while this discussion proceeded these peasants received such mighty blows
in the ribs from the butts of their musquets that I wondered they did not
spit blood.  Bur presently stood forth a soldier, and said he:  “You
gentlemen, seeing that it is a shame to the whole profession of arms that
this rogue (and therewith he pointed to that same unhappy trooper) have
so shamefully submitted himself to the will of five boors, it is surely
our duty to wash out this spot of shame, and compel these rogues to do
the same shameful service for this trooper which they forced him to do
for them.”  But another said:  “This fellow is not worth having such
honour due to him; for were he not a poltroon surely he would not have
done such shameful service, to the shame of all honest soldiers, but
would a thousand times sooner have died.”  In a word, ‘twas decided with
one voice that each of the captured peasants should do the same filthy
service for ten soldiers which their comrade had been forced to do, and
each time should say, “So do I cleanse and wash away the shame which
these soldiers think they have endured.”
    Thereafter they would decided how they should deal with the peasants
when they had fulfilled this cleanly task.  So presently they went to
work:  but the peasants were so obstinate that neither by promise of
their lives nor by any torture could they be compelled thereto.  Then one
took the fifth peasant, who had not maltreated the trooper, a little
aside, and says he:  “It thou wilt deny God and all His saints, I will
let thee go whither thou wilt.”  Thereupon the peasant made the reply,
“he had in all his life taken little count of saints, and had had but
little traffic with God,” and added thereto with a solemn oath, “he knew
not God and  had no art nor part in His kingdom.”  So then the soldier
sent a ball at his head:  which worked as little harm as if it had been
shot at a mountain of steel.  Then he drew out his hangar and “Beest thou
still here?” says he.  “I promised to let thee go whither thou wouldst: 
see now, I send thee to the kingdom of hell, since thou wilt not go to
heaven”:  and so he split his head down to the teeth.  And as he fell,
“So,” said the soldier, “must a man avenge himself and punish these loose
rogues both in this world and  the next.”
    Meanwhile the other soldiers had the remaining four peasants to deal
with.  These they bound, hands and feet together, over a fallen tree in
such wise that their back-sides (saving your presence) were uppermost. 
Then they stript off their breeches, and took some yards of their
match-string and made knots in it, and fiddled them therewith so
mercilessly that the blood ran.  So they cried out lamentably, but ‘twas
but sport for the soldiers, who ceased not to saw away till skin and
flesh were clean sawn off the bones.  Me they let go to my hut, for the
last-arrived party knew the way well.  And so I know not how they
finished with the peasants.

Edited by Melanie Edwards

1#1  Gideon, a soldier in the book of Judges in the Bible, led an army of
Israelites against the opposing Midianites.  God told Gideon he had too
large of an army so Gideon reduced the size several times.  Finally
Gideon told the men to drink from a river.  Gideon kept in his army only
those who got down and lapped the water like dogs, which reduced the
force to 400 men.  This story is often interpreted as showing how God
chose the less alert soldiers to magnify the proportions of his victory. 
“Gideon,” Anchor Bible Dictionary (New York:  Double Day, 1992), vol. 2,
pp. 1013-1015.
#22 According to the book of Genesis in the Bible, Methuselah lived 969
years and was the oldest man in history.  “Gideon,” Anchor Bible
Dictionary (New York:  Double Day, 1992), vol. 4, pp. 800-801.
#33  Malmsey is a type of sweet wine from made from the Malvasia grape
and produced in Monomvasia, a city in southern Greece.  Monemvasia,
famous for this wine, was a fortress and commercial center in the Middle
Ages and thus its wine became world famous.  “Monemvasia,” Encyclopedia
Britannica (Chicago:  Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1997), vol. 8, p.
250.  “Malmsey,” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary
(Springfield, Mass:  Mirriam-Webster, Inc., 1986), p. 1368.
#44   A mattock is a tool used for digging with the blade and handle at
right angles, a mixture of an ax and a pick.  “Mattock,” The American
Heritage Dictionary of the English Language (New York:  Dell Publishing
Co., 1976), p. 435.  “Mattock,” Webster’s Third New International
Dictionary (Springfield, Mass:  Mirriam-Webster, Inc., 1986), p. 1394.
#55  Timon, a philosopher born around 320 B.C. in northern Peloponnese,
Greece, studied with Stilpo at Megara and Phyrron of Elis.  First a
dancer, he eventually became famous by lecturing and eventually retired
to Athens to write.  He eventually died around 230 B.C. in Athens, and
although none of his complete works survive, some fragments still remain,
including prose, tragedies, comedies, poems, and a few sarcastic attacks
on the more dogmatic philosophers, called silloi.  “Timon,” Encyclopedia
Britannica  (Chicago:  Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1997), vol. 11, p.
782.
6#6*Viz. "ihnen den Hintern zu lecken."  [Goodrick]
 
 
 
 
