Simplicissimus (54 page)

And so the die was cast. I sent for my Da, or foster-father, who was with my cattle in Baiersbronn, and made over my farm to him and his wife, with the proviso that after his death my bastard, Simplicius, who had been left on my door-step, would inherit it, there being no legitimate heirs. By the time I had given instructions for the upbringing and education of my bastard son, gathered together what money and jewels I had and saddled my horse, the blockade had been unexpectedly lifted, so that before we knew it we were marching to rejoin the main army. I acted as steward to the colonel, keeping his whole household supplied by robbing and stealing – what the military call foraging.

Torstenson’s promises, of which he had made so much on my farm, were nothing like so firm as he had pretended; indeed, I had the impression he was rather looked down on. ‘Damn!’, he said to me, ‘some wretch must have been running me down to the general, I can see I won’t be staying here for long.’ Since he suspected I would not sit around waiting for ever, he forged letters suggesting he had been charged with recruiting a new regiment in Livonia, where he came from, and used them to persuade me to embark with him at Wismar and sail to Livonia. Things were just as bad there. He not only had no regiment to recruit, he was a penniless nobleman and everything he had came from his wife.

Although I had been deceived twice and taken so far from home, I went along with him for a third time. He showed me letters he had received from Moscow in which (he claimed) he had been offered a senior position in the army. At least that was how he translated them and went on and on about how excellent the pay would be. Since he was setting off with his wife and children, I assumed he wouldn’t be going without good reason, and went with him, full of optimism. Anyway, I could see no means of getting back to Germany. However, as soon as we had crossed the Russian frontier and met various discharged German soldiers, especially officers, I started to get worried and said to the colonel, ‘What the hell are we doing? We’ve left the place where there’s a war going on to go to a country that’s at peace, where soldiers have no value and are being discharged.’ However, he continued to reassure me, saying I should leave everything to him, he knew his way around much better than these fellows who were not up to much at all.

After we arrived safely in Moscow I immediately realised it was hopeless. It was true the colonel conferred daily with dignitaries, but more with bishops than with boyars. I didn’t like this hobnobbing with priests, but it didn’t arouse my suspicions, though I did spend a long time thinking about it, without being able to work out what he was up to. Finally he informed me there were no prospects in war and that his conscience was urging him to embrace the Greek Orthodox religion. Since he could not help me as he had promised, his honest advice was to do the same. His Majesty the Czar had already had good reports of my character and abilities, and if I showed willing, he would graciously confer upon me, as a gentleman of rank, a fine estate with many serfs. It was an offer I could hardly afford to refuse, he went on, since any man would be better advised to have such a great monarch as a bounteous lord than as an ill-disposed prince.

I was dismayed at this and didn’t know what to say. If we had been anywhere else, the colonel would have felt my answer rather than heard it. In the circumstances, however, given that I was virtually a prisoner in that place, I had to change my tune. I remained silent for a long time before deciding on my answer. I had come, I finally told him, imagining I would serve His Majesty the Czar as a soldier and he, the colonel, was the one who had persuaded me to do so. Since the czar had no need of my services, there was nothing I could do about it, nor could I blame him for having made such a long journey in vain as he had not summoned me here. That he condescended to show me such royal favour was an honour I could boast about but not, with all due respect, accept, since I could not at the moment bring myself to change my religion. I only wished I was back home on my farm in the Black Forest and not having to rely on others or cause them inconvenience.’

‘You must do as you think best, sir’, he replied. ‘However, I would have thought that if God and fortune smiled on you, you would have had the grace to appreciate it. But if you don’t want to be helped, nor to live like a prince, I hope you will at least recognise that I have spared no pains to do my best for you.’ With that he made a low bow and walked out, leaving me sitting there, and not even giving me time to accompany him to the door.

While I was still sitting there perplexed and reviewing my situation, I heard two Russian carriages pull up outside our lodgings. I went to the window and saw my good colonel and his sons get into one, his wife and daughters into the other. The carriages bore the Czar’s livery and contained several priests, who received the couple with expressions of obsequious good will.

From that time on, although I didn’t realise it, I was secretly kept under observation by members of the Czar’s bodyguard. I didn’t see the colonel or his family again, so that I had no idea what had become of them. During that time, as you can well imagine, not a few grey hairs appeared on my head, and not a few strange ideas inside it, either. I sought out the German craftsmen and merchants who resided in Moscow and told them of my plight and how I had been duped. At first they were sympathetic and made suggestions about how best to get back to Germany, but the moment they got wind of the fact that the czar was determined to keep me in Russia, by force if necessary, they all clammed up. They didn’t want to know me, and I was even finding it difficult to get a roof over my head, for I had already sold my horse, saddle and bridle and spent the proceeds, and every day I was taking out another of the ducats I had so wisely sewn into my clothes. Finally I started selling my rings and jewels, hoping to keep myself going until I found an opportunity of getting back to Germany. In this way three months passed since the colonel and all his household had turned Greek Orthodox and been rewarded with an extensive noble estate and many serfs.

At that time a decree was published, that applied both to Russians and foreigners, announcing heavy penalties for idlers, since they took the bread out of the mouths of honest working people. Any foreigners who were unwilling to work had to leave the country within a month and the city within twenty-four hours. Fifty of us assembled, therefore, planning to make our way together through Poland to Germany. We had not been two hours out of the city, however, when we were overtaken and stopped by a troop of Russian cavalry under the pretence that the czar was mightily displeased we had had the audacity to gather in such large numbers and march through his country without a passport or even so much as a by-your-leave. For this, they added, His Majesty would be well within his rights to send us to Siberia.

As we made our way back I learnt what my situation was. The officer in command of the troop told me plainly that the czar would not let me leave the country. His advice was to submit to His Majesty’s will, convert to their religion as the colonel had done and not turn my nose up at a fine estate, assuring me that if I declined I would be forced to stay there as a servant. One could not blame His Majesty, he said, for refusing to let such an experienced man as the colonel had said I was leave his country. At this I spoke slightingly of myself, pointing out that the colonel must have credited me with more skills, ability and knowledge than I actually possessed. It was true that I had come to their country to serve His Majesty the Czar and the admirable Russian nation by risking my life to fight their enemies, but I could not agree to change my religion. If, however, there was any way at all I could serve the czar without going against my conscience, there would be no lack of effort on my part.

I was separated from the others and given lodgings with a merchant where on the one hand I was openly kept under surveillance, on the other fed with delicious food and fine wines from the court kitchens. People came to visit me every day and invited me out to dine with them now and then. There was one in particular, a crafty old fox who had doubtless been told to work on me. He came round to chat with me every day, for by now I could speak Russian fairly well. He discussed all kinds of technical matters with me, siege engines and other types of machinery, fortifications, artillery etc. Finally, after he had several times sounded me out to see if I was willing to do as the czar wished and found no sign at all of my changing my mind, he asked whether, if I would not become Russian, I would not at least reveal some of my knowledge to them. His Majesty, he assured me, would esteem it an honour and reward my cooperation with royal favours. I replied that it had all along been my humble desire to serve His Majesty. That was the reason why I had come to his country in the first place, and I was still of a mind to do so, even though I was kept more or less a prisoner. ‘Oh, not at all, sir’, he said, ‘you are not being kept prisoner. It is just that His Majesty loves you so much he cannot bear to lose you.’

‘Why then’, I asked, ‘am I being kept under surveillance?’

‘Because His Majesty is concerned lest you come to some harm’, he replied.

Now that he was clear about my willingness to serve the czar he told me that His Majesty was considering extracting saltpetre in his own territories and manufacturing gunpowder. Since, however, there was no one there who was familiar with the process, I would be doing His Majesty a great service if I would undertake the task; they would see to it that I had sufficient funds and manpower. He added his own personal request that I should not reject His Majesty’s proposition, since they had already been reliably informed that I was familiar with these matters.

‘Sir’, I replied, ‘I can only repeat what I said before: if I can serve the czar in any way, apart from changing my religion, then I will do so to the best of my ability.’ At this the Russian, who was one of their great magnates, got very merry and kept drinking my health, even more than a German would have.

The next day two boyars came with an interpreter to make the final arrangements and to give me a splendid Russian coat, a present from the czar. A few days after that I started searching for soil containing saltpetre and teaching the Russians who had been assigned to me how to separate it from the soil and purify it. At the same time I drew up designs for a powder mill and taught others to make charcoal, so that we were very soon producing both fine powder for muskets and coarse powder for cannons in great quantities. I had enough men under my command as well as my own special servants to look after or, rather, keep an eye on me.

After I had made such a good start, the Livonian colonel came to see me, in Russian costume and with a splendid retinue of servants, doubtless hoping to persuade me by this show of magnificence to become Russian Orthodox. However, I was well aware that the clothes came from the czar’s wardrobe and had only been lent to him in order to bait the hook for me, this being very common practice at the Russian court.

To help the reader understand how things were done there, I will give an example from my own experience. Once, when I was busy at the powder mill I had had built beside the river outside Moscow, telling the men their tasks for that day and the next, the alarm was suddenly given because the Tartars were less than twenty miles away, 100,000 strong, still advancing and plundering as they went. My men and I had to go to the Kremlin immediately, where we were equipped and mounted from the czar’s armoury and stables. Instead of a cuirass, I was fitted out with a padded silk jerkin which would stop any arrow, but would not keep out a bullet. To that was added boots, spurs and a princely helmet with a heron plume together with a sabre sharp enough to split hairs, mounted in pure gold and studded with precious stones; from the czar’s stables I was put on a horse the like of which I have never before seen, never mind ridden. I, my saddle and bridle were all aglitter with gold, silver, precious stones and pearls, and at my side I had a steel mace that shone like a mirror and was so well made and balanced that anyone I hit with it was a dead man. The czar himself could not have been better accoutred than I was.

I was followed by a white flag with a double eagle and people poured out to join it from all quarters, so that in less than two hours we were forty thousand horse strong, sixty thousand after four hours, and with these we proceeded to advance against the Tartars. Every fifteen minutes I received new orders from the czar, all of which boiled down to the same thing: I had claimed to be a soldier and this was my chance to show His Majesty that I really was one. All the time our numbers were augmented by both individuals and small contingents and such was the confusion I could not tell who was supposed to command the whole horde or set them in battle order.

I will not say much about this encounter, which is not really central to my story. We suddenly came upon the Tartars, their horses tired and laden with booty, in a valley or deep dip in the ground, when they least expected it, and charged them from all sides with such fury that we scattered them straight away. As soon as we attacked I called out in Russian to those following me, ‘Off we go, and let everyone do as I do!’ They all shouted this to each other and I gave my horse free rein and charged the enemy, splitting the skull of the first I encountered, a young prince, so that my mace was spattered with his brains. The Russians followed my heroic example, so that the Tartars could not withstand the attack and turned in general flight. I fought like a man possessed, or like someone who is desperately seeking death and cannot find it, striking down everyone, Tartar or Russian, who came into my path. At the same time those Russians whom the czar had assigned to keep me under surveillance followed me so closely that my back was always covered. The air was full of arrows, as if a hive of bees had swarmed, and one struck me in the arm because I had rolled up my sleeves to deal out slaughter with my mace and sabre unhampered. Before I was wounded by the arrow I was revelling in the bloodshed, but when I saw my own blood flowing my laughter quickly turned to an insane fury.