Simplicissimus (25 page)

This is the way I behaved everywhere I went and I acquired a great reputation through it. The more I gave away, the more booty I took, and I thought that the ring, even though it was worth a hundred thalers, was a sound investment.

And that is the end of the Second Book.

You will have realised from the previous book how ambitious I had become in Soest, how I sought and found honour, glory and favour through actions which in others would have deserved punishment. Now I will tell you how I let my folly lead me even further astray so that I lived in constant danger to life and limb. As I have already mentioned, I was so desperate to gain honour and glory that at times it kept me awake at night, and when the mood was on me I would lie in bed thinking up new plots and ploys. The most bizarre ideas occurred to me. I invented a kind of shoe that you put on back to front, so that the heels came underneath your toes, and had some thirty pairs made at my own cost. I used to share them out among my men before we went on a raid, making it impossible to track us since we sometimes wore these, sometimes put them back in our knapsacks and wore our ordinary shoes. If someone came to the place where we had changed them, from the tracks it just looked as if two parties had met there then completely vanished. If, however, I kept my back-to-front shoes on, then it looked as if I were going to the place I had actually come from, or vice versa. Thus if we left tracks on an expedition they were more confusing than a maze, making it impossible for any pursuers to catch me. I was often right next to an enemy party that was setting off to look for me far away, and even more often miles away from the thicket they had surrounded and were searching in the hope of catching me. I did just the same when we were on horseback. It was not unusual for me to have the men dismount at junctions or crossroads and turn the horseshoes back to front. The usual tricks people employed to make a weak party appear strong from their tracks, or a strong party weak, were so common and I valued them so little that I do not think them worth recounting.

I also invented an instrument by means of which, during nights when there was no wind, I could hear a trumpet three hours’ march away, a horse neighing or a dog barking at two hours’ distance and people talking at one. I kept this a close secret and gained quite a reputation through it, since what I did appeared impossible. This instrument, which I usually kept in the pocket of my breeches along with my telescope, was not much use by day, unless we were in a very quiet, lonely place, since you could hear everything that made a noise, from the horses and cows to the smallest birds in the air or frogs in the water. It sounded just as if you were in a market place surrounded by people and animals, all making themselves heard, so that you could not distinguish the one from the other.

I know there are still people who do not believe this, but whether they do or not, it is the truth. Using it, at night I can recognise a person speaking normally from the sound of his voice when he is so far away that by day you would need a good telescope to recognise him from his clothes. However, I am not surprised if people do not believe what I have just written. Even those who saw me use the instrument with their own eyes refused to believe it. I would say, ‘I can hear cavalry coming, the horses are shod’, or ‘I can hear farmers coming, the horses are unshod’, or ‘There are carts coming, but it’s only peasants, I can tell by the way they speak’, or ‘There are musketeers coming, roughly so many, I can tell by the rattle of their bandoliers’, or ‘There’s a village over here or over there, I can hear cocks crowing, dogs barking etc’, or ‘Here comes a herd of cattle, I can hear sheep baaing, cows mooing, pigs grunting’, and so on. At first my comrades thought it was all just talk, then when they saw that I was right each time they assumed it must be magic, and that the devil had revealed to me the things I saw. That, I imagine, is what the reader will be thinking. Nevertheless it often helped me to escape the enemy when they had received information and were coming to capture me. I also think that if I had made my invention known it would have become very common as it is so useful in wartime, especially during sieges. But now back to my story.

If there was no foray for me to take part in, I would go out stealing on my own account and no horse, cow, pig or sheep was safe from me for miles around. I had boots or shoes I could put on horses and cattle until we came to a well-trodden road, so that they left no tracks to follow. There I would put the horseshoes on back to front; for cows and oxen I had specially made shoes that made them look as if they were going in the opposite direction with which I could bring them to a safe place. Fat porkers are so lazy they do not like to journey at night, but I had a masterly way of getting them to move, no matter how much they grunted and refused to stir at first. I soaked a sponge, to which I had attached a strong string, in a savoury mash of meal and water, then let the pig I was after eat the gruel-soaked sponge, keeping tight hold of the string. After that it would follow me unprotesting and give me hams and sausages for my trouble. Whenever I brought back something like this I always shared it with the officers and my comrades so that I was allowed to go off again, and if my plan had been betrayed, or I was spotted executing it, they would help me out. I thought far too much of myself to steal from poor people or to take chickens or other such trifles.

With all this gorging and guzzling I gradually started to lead a life of self-indulgence. I had forgotten what the hermit had taught me. I was still young and had no one to guide me, no one I could look up to. The officers joined in my gluttony, and those who should have been telling me off and punishing me, instead encouraged me to try out all the vices, with the result that I became so wicked and ungodly no villainy was too great for me. The consequence was that I was secretly envied on all sides: by my comrades because I was better at thieving and by the officers because I was so bold and successful at forays and had made a greater name for myself than they had. I am sure there were one or two among them who would have soon sacrificed me had I not been so liberal with my money and goods.

I continued my depredations. I was having some devil’s masks made and frightening costumes with cloven hooves to go with them to help me terrify the enemy and also take goods from our friends unrecognised (it was the episode with the priest’s bacon that had given me the idea for this). At this point I heard there was a man in Werl who was an excellent raider, dressed himself in green and went round the countryside, though especially those areas that owed tribute to us, committing atrocities such as rape and pillage under my name. This brought serious complaints against me and would have cost me dear if I had not been able to prove I had been elsewhere at the time when he had carried out some of his attacks disguised as me. I could not let him get away with this and determined to stop him going round in my name, taking booty in my dress and bringing shame on me. With the knowledge of the commandant in Soest I challenged him to meet me in the field with swords or pistols. He did not have the guts to turn up, so I let it be known that I intended to take my revenge on him even if, to do it, I had to beard him in the lair of the commandant of Werl himself, who did not punish him. I publicly declared that if I met him out on a foray I would treat him as an enemy.

I not only abandoned work on the masks, for which I had had great plans, I also chopped up my green suit into little pieces and burnt it publicly outside my quarters in Soest, even though my clothes were worth over a hundred ducats without the plumes and other accoutrements. I was so furious about the whole affair that I swore that the next person to call me Huntsman would have to kill me if he did not want to die at my hands, for that was what would happen, even if it cost me my life. I refused to lead forays (which I was not bound to do, since I was not an officer) until I had had my revenge on the impostor in Werl. I stopped taking part in any military activities, except for my guard duty, unless I was specifically ordered to do something, which I would then carry out in a very lethargic fashion, like any malingerer. This was soon public knowledge throughout the area and made the enemy’s raiding parties so confident and bold that they daily took up position outside at the very gates of our camp. I found this unbearable, but what I found even more unbearable was the fact that the Huntsman of Werl was still pretending to be me and taking a lot of booty.

While everyone was thinking I was sitting twiddling my thumbs and was likely to do so for a long time, I was in fact spying out everything my double in Werl did. I discovered that not only did he use my name and my clothes, he also went out secretly at night to steal things, whenever there was something for the taking. At this I immediately awoke from my torpor and made my plan accordingly. I had trained my two servants so that they were as obedient as a pair of spaniels. They were so loyal they would have gone through fire for me if necessary, since with me they had plenty to eat and drink and plenty of booty. One of them I sent to my enemy in Werl. He claimed that since I, his former master, had started to live the life of a chicken-livered idler and had sworn never to go out on a foray again, he had refused to stay with me any longer and had come to offer his services to the dragoon in Werl, who had taken over my Huntsman’s dress and behaved like a real soldier. He knew all the paths and tracks in the area, he said, and could give him a lot of tips to help him take good booty. The poor, simple-minded fool believed him and took him on.

At my servant’s suggestion he and his comrade went with him one particular night to a sheep-farm to steal some fat sheep. I was lying in wait for them with Tearaway and my other servant. We had bribed the shepherd to tie up his dog and let the others dig their way into the sheep-fold unhindered, promising we would give them a warm welcome. Once they had made a hole in the wall the Huntsman of Werl wanted my servant to go in first but he said, ‘No, there might be someone on watch inside who’ll hit me over the head. I can see you don’t know the first thing about the business. First of all we have to send in someone on reconnaissance.’ He drew his sword, stuck his hat on the end and pushed it in through the hole several times. ‘That’s the way to see if there’s anyone at home or not.’ After that it was the Huntsman of Werl who was the first to crawl in and Tearaway immediately caught him by his sword-arm and asked if he surrendered. His companion heard this and decided to make a run for it. However, since I didn’t know which of them was the Huntsman of Werl and was quicker than him, I ran after him and soon caught him. I asked, ‘Which side?’

‘The Emperor’s’, he answered.

‘Which regiment?’ I asked. ‘I’m in the imperial army too. Only a villain would deny his lord.’

‘We’re from the dragoons in Soest’, he replied, ‘and we’ve come to get a few sheep. If you’re with the Empire too, brother, I hope you’ll let us go.’

‘You’re from Soest?’ I said. ‘Who are you then?’

‘My comrade in the sheep-fold is the Huntsman’, he replied.

‘Villains, that’s what you are’, I said. ‘Why are you plundering your own district? The Huntsman of Soest is not such a fool as to be caught in a sheep-fold.’

‘Sorry, I meant the Huntsman of Werl’, the other replied.

While this discussion was going on, my servant and Tearaway came up with the impostor. ‘So there you are, you scoundrel, at last we meet. If it wasn’t for the respect I have for the imperial uniform, I’d blow your brains out on the spot. Until now I have been the Huntsman of Soest and unless you take up one of these swords and face up to me like a true soldier, you are nothing but a craven blackguard.’ As I was saying this my servant, who like Tearaway was dressed in a horrible devil’s costume with huge goat’s horns, put two similar swords I had brought from Soest on the ground at our feet and offered the Huntsman of Werl the choice. The Huntsman was so terrified at this that he did what I did when I spoilt the dance in Hanau and made such a mess of his trousers that no one could stay near him. He and his comrade were trembling like drenched dogs, fell to their knees and begged for mercy. But Tearaway boomed, as if his voice were coming from inside a hollow jug, at the Huntsman, ‘You’re going to fight or I’ll wring your neck.’

‘Oh, good sir Devil, I didn’t come here to fight. If your devilship will spare me that I will do whatever you want.’

While he was gabbling away my servant put one of the swords in his hand and gave me the other but he was trembling so much he couldn’t keep hold of it. The moon was bright and the farmer and his servants could see and hear everything from their hut. I called him over so that I should have a witness. When he came he pretended he could not see the two in devil’s costumes and asked what I thought I was doing, quarrelling with these fellows in his sheep-fold. If I had anything to settle with them we should find another place for it. Our disputes were nothing to do with him, he went on, he paid his monthly ‘conterbissions’ and hoped we would leave him and his sheep-farm in peace. Then he asked the other two why they allowed me to lord it over them and did not just knock me down.

‘You ungrateful idiot’, I said, ‘they were going to steal your sheep.’

‘Then they can kiss the arses of all my sheep and mine too’, he said and went off.

After that I started to press for a duel again, but the poor Huntsman of Werl was so terrified he couldn’t even stand up, so that eventually I came to feel sorry for him. Then he and his comrade made such moving speeches that I ended up forgiving and forgetting everything. Tearaway was unhappy with this and forced the Huntsman to kiss the arses of three sheep (that was the number he had intended to steal) and also scratched him all over the face, so that he looked as if he had been joining the cats at their feeding bowl. I was content with this poor revenge, but the Huntsman was so ashamed he soon vanished from Werl. His comrade told everyone he met, and backed it up with violent oaths, that I had two genuine devils at my beck and call, with the result that I was more feared, but less loved, than ever.