Chapter VI (1)

Courage then, my soul, arise!
Heave no sighs
That nought yet thy rest supplies!
God will not leave thee in sorrow:
Well He knows
When He chose
Help for thee to borrow.

Thus I peacefully beguiled the time, until Doctor Otto Sperling[E32] was brought to the tower; his prison is below the 'dark church.' His fate is pitiable. When he was brought to the tower his feet and hands were chained in irons. The prison governor, who had formerly not been friendly with him, rejoiced heartily at the doctor's misfortune, and that he had fallen into his hands, so that the whole evening he did nothing but sing and hum. He said to the woman, 'My Karen, will you dance? I will sing.' He left the doctor to pass the night in his irons. We could hear that a prisoner had been brought in from the murmuring, and the concourse of people, as well as from the locking of the prison, which was below mine (where iron bolts were placed against the door).[78] The joy exhibited by the prison governor excited my fear, also that he not only himself opened and shut my door, but that he prevented the woman from going out on the stairs, by leaning against the outermost door of my prison. The coachman stood behind the prison governor making signs; but as the prison governor turned from side to side, I could not rightly see him.

[E32] Dr. Otto Sperling, the elder, is often alluded to in the Autobiography of Leonora as 'notre vieillard;' he was a faithful friend of Ulfeldt, and in 1654 he settled in Hamburg, where he educated Corfitz's youngest son Leo. He was implicated in Ulfeldt's intrigues, and a compromising correspondence between them fell into the hands of the Spanish Government, which placed it at the disposal of Hannibal Sehested when he passed through the Netherlands on his way home from his mission to France in 1663. In order to obtain possession of Sperling's person, the Danish authorities used the ruse of sending a Danish officer to his house in Hamburg, and request him to visit professionally a sick person just across the Danish frontier, paying in advance a considerable fee. Sperling, who did not suspect the transaction, was arrested immediately on crossing the boundary, and brought to Copenhagen. He was condemned to death July 28, 1664; but the sentence was commuted, and he died in the Blue Tower December 25, 1681. Otto Sperling, jun., to whom Leonora sent the MS. of her Autobiography, and who often visited her at Maribo, was his son.

[78] The prison cell is outside that in which the doctor is immured. It is quite dark where he is. [Note in the margin.]

On the following day, at about eight o'clock, I heard the iron bolts drawn and the door below opened; I could also hear that the inner prison was opened (the doctor was then taken out for examination). The woman said, 'There is certainly a prisoner there; who can it be?' I said: 'It seems indeed that a prisoner has been brought in, for the prison governor is so merry. You will find it out from Peder; if not to-day, another time. I pity the poor man, whoever he may be.' (God knows my heart was not as courageous as I appeared.) When my door was opened at noon (which was after twelve o'clock, for they did not open my door till the doctor had been conveyed to his cell again), the prison governor was still merrier than usual, and danced about and sang, 'Cheer up! courage! It will come to pass!'

When he had cut up the dinner, he leaned against the outer door of my prison and prevented the woman from going out, saying to me, 'I am to salute you from the Major-General von Alfeldt; he says all will now soon be well, and you may console yourself. Yes, yes, all will now soon be well!' I behaved as if I received his words in their apparent meaning, and I begged him to thank the Major-General for his consolation; and then he repeated the same words, and added, 'Yes, indeed! he said so.' I replied with a question: 'What may it arise from that the Major-General endeavours to cheer me? May God cheer him in return! I never knew him before.' To this the prison governor made no answer at all. While the prison governor was talking with me, the coachman was standing behind him, and showed by gestures how the prisoner had been bound hand and foot, that he had a beard and a calotte on his head, and a handkerchief round his neck. This could not make me wiser than I was, but it could indeed grieve me still more. At the evening meal the woman was again prevented speaking with the coachman, and the coachman again made the same signs, for the prison governor was standing in his usual place; but he said nothing, nor did I.[79] On the following morning the Doctor was again brought up for examination, and the prison governor behaved as before. As he stood there ruminating, I asked him who the prisoner below was. He answered that there was no one below. I let the matter rest for the time, and as we proceeded to speak of other things, the woman slipped out to Peder, who told her quickly who it was. Some days went by in the same manner. When sentence had been pronounced on the Doctor, and his execution was being postponed,[80] and I said nothing to the prison governor but when he accosted me, he came in and said: 'I see that you can judge that there is a prisoner below. It is true, but I am forbidden to tell you who it is!' I answered: 'Then I do not desire to know.' He began to feel some compassion, and said: 'Don't fret, my dear lady; it is not your husband, nor your son, nor daughter, nor brother-in-law, nor any relative; it is a bird which ought to sing,[81] and will not, but he must, he must!' I said: 'I ought to be able to guess from your words who it is. If the bird can sing what can ring in their ears, he will probably do so; but he cannot sing a melody which he does not know!' Upon this he was silent, and turned away and went out.

[79] In the margin is added: 'When the prison governor was singing to himself on those first days, he said, "You must sing, my bird; where is your velvet robe?" laughing at the same time most heartily. I inferred from that song who it was.'

[80] In the margin is added: 'In order to grieve the Doctor and to frighten him, the prison governor unlocked his cell early on the morning after sentence had been passed, and behaved as if the priest were coming to him.'

[81] That is, give information.

By degrees all became quiet with regard to the Doctor, and no more was said about the matter, and the prison governor came in from time to time when the door was opened, and often made himself merry with the woman, desiring her to make a curtsey to him, and showing her how she should place her feet and carry her body, after the fashion of a dancing-master. He related also different things that had occurred in former times, some of them evidently intended to sadden me with the recollection of my former prosperity: all that had happened at my wedding, how the deceased King had loved me. He gave long accounts of this, not forgetting how I was dressed, and all this he said for the benefit of no one else but myself, for the woman meanwhile stood on the stairs talking with the tower warder, the coachman, and the prisoner Christian.

Maren Blocks, who constantly from time to time sent me messages and kept me informed of what was going on, also intimated to me that she was of opinion that I could practise magic, for she wrote me a slip of paper[82] with the request that I should sow dissension between the Lady Carisse and an Alfelt, explaining at length that Alfelt was not worthy of her, but that Skinckel was a brave fellow (Carisse afterwards married Skinckel). As the letter was open, the coachman knew its contents, and the woman also. I was angry at it, but I said nothing. The woman could easily perceive that I was displeased at it, and she said, 'Lady, I know well what Maren wishes.' I replied, 'Can you help her in it?' 'No,' she declared, and laughed heartily. I asked what there was to laugh at. 'I am laughing,' said she, 'because I am thinking of the clever Cathrine, of whom I have spoken before, who once gave advice to some one desiring to sow discord between good friends.' I enquired what advice she had given. She said that they must collect some hairs in a place where two cats had been fighting, and throw these between the two men whom it was desired to set at variance. I enquired whether the trick succeeded. She replied, 'It was not properly tried.' 'Perhaps,' I said, 'the cats were not both black?' 'Ho, ho!' said she, 'I see that you know how it should be done.' 'I have heard more than that,' I replied; 'show her the trick, and you will get some more sugar-candy, but do not let yourself be again cheated of it by Peder as you were lately. Seriously, however, Peder must beg Maren Blocks to spare me such requests!' That she as well as Maren believed that I could practise magic was evident in many ways. My own remarks often gave cause for this. I remembered how my deceased lord used to say (when in his younger days he wished to make anyone imagine that he understood the black art), that people feared those of whom they had this opinion, and never ventured to do them harm. It happened one day at the mid-day meal, when the prison governor was sitting talking with me, that the woman carried on a long conversation on the stairs with the others respecting the witches who had been seized in Jutland, and that the supreme judge in Jutland at that time sided with the witches and said they were not witches.[E33] When the door was locked we had much talk about witches, and she said, 'This judge is of your opinion, that it is a science and not magic.' I said, as I had before said, that some had more knowledge than others, and that some used their knowledge to do evil; although it might happen naturally and not with the devil's art, still it was not permitted in God's Word to use nature for evil purposes; it was also not fair to give the devil the honour which did not belong to him. We talked on till she grew angry, laid down and slept a little, and thus the anger passed away.

[82] In the margin is added: 'Peder had some time before thrown into me eight ducats in a paper, saying, as he closed the door, "Your maid!" And as the woman knew it, I gave her one of them and Peder one. I know not whether my maid had given him more; she had many more concealed on her person.'

[E33] The name of this judge was Villum Lange, and it is a curious coincidence that a letter from him of a somewhat later time (1670), has been found in one of the archives, in which he speaks of this very affair, and in which he expresses himself very much in the sense here indicated.

Some days after she said: 'Your maid is sitting below in the prison governor's room, and asks with much solicitude after you and what you are doing. I have told Peder of what you have sewed, and of the ribbons you have made, but he has promised solemnly not to mention it to anyone except to Maren, Lars' daughter; she would like so much to be here with you.' I replied: 'It would be no good for her to sit with me in prison; it would only destroy her own happiness; for who knows how long I may live?' I related of this same waiting-maid that she had been in my employ since she was eight years old, all that I had had her taught, and how virtuous she was. To this she replied, 'The girl will like to see what you have sewed; you shall have it again directly.' I handed it to her, and the first time the doors were unlocked she gave it to the prison governor, who carried it to the Queen. (Two years afterwards the prison governor told me this himself, and that when the King had said, 'She might have something given her to do,' the Queen had answered, 'That is not necessary. It is good enough for her! She has not wished for anything better.') I often enquired for the piece of sewing, but was answered that Peder was not able to get it back from the girl.

Late in the autumn the prison governor began to sicken: he was ill and could not do much, so he let the coachman frequently come alone to lock and unlock both the doctor's door below and mine. The iron bars were no longer placed before the outermost prison below, but four doors were locked upon me. One day, when Peder was locking up, he threw me a skein of silk,[83] saying, 'Make me some braces for my breeches out of it.' I appeared not to have heard, and asked the woman what it was that he had said. She repeated the same words. I behaved as if I did not believe it, and laughed, saying, 'If I make the braces for him, he will next wish that you should fasten them to his breeches.' A good deal of absurd chatter followed. As meal-time was approaching, I said to the woman, 'Give Peder back his silk, and say that I have never before made a pair of braces; I do not know how they are made.' (Such things I had to endure with smiles.)

[83] In the margin is added: 'As my linen was washed in the servants' hall, it once happened that a maid there must unawares have forgotten a whole skein of thread in a clean chemise, at which I said to the woman: "You see how the ravens bring me thread!" She was angry and abused me; I laughed, and answered her jestingly.'

At the time that our former palace here in the city (which we had ceded by a deed when we were imprisoned at Borringholm) was pulled down, and a pillar (or whatever it is) was raised to my lord's shame, the prison governor came in when he unlocked at noon, and seated himself on my bed (I was somewhat indisposed at the time), and began to talk of former times (I knew already that they were pulling down the palace), enumerating everything the loss of which he thought might sadden me, even to my coach and the horses. 'But,' he said, 'all this is nothing compared with the beautiful palace!' (and he praised it to the utmost); 'it is now down, and not one stone is left on another. Is not that a pity, my dear lady?' I replied: 'The King can do what he will with his own; the palace has not been ours for some time.' He continued bewailing the beautiful house and the garden buildings which belonged to it. I asked him what had become of Solomon's temple? Not a stone of that beautiful building was now to be found; not even could the place be pointed out where the temple and costly royal palace had once stood. He made no answer, hung his head, and pondered a little, and went out. I do not doubt he has reported what I said. Since that day he began to behave himself more and more courteously, saying even that His Majesty had ordered him to ask me whether I wished for anything from the kitchen, the cellar, or the confectioner, as it should be given me; that he had also been ordered to bring me twice a week confectionery and powdered sugar, which was done.[84] I begged the prison governor to thank the King's Majesty for the favour shown me, and praised, as was proper, the King's goodness most humbly. The prison governor would have liked to praise the Queen had he only been able to find cause for so doing; he said, 'The Queen is also a dear Queen!' I made no answer to this. He came also some time afterwards with an order from the King that I should ask for any clothes and linen I required: this was written down, and I received it later, except a corset, and that the Queen would not allow me. I never could learn the cause of this. The Queen also was not well pleased that I obtained a bottle-case with six small bottles, in which was sprinkling-water, headwater, and a cordial. All this, she said, I could well do without; but when she saw that in the lid there was an engraving representing the daughter of Herod with the head of St. John on a charger, she laughed and said, 'That will be a cordial to her!' This engraving set me thinking that Herodias had still sisters on earth.

[84] In the margin is added: 'I wrote different things from the Bible on the paper in which the sugar was given me. My ink-bottle was made of the piece of pewter lid which the woman had found, the ink was made from the smoke of the candle collected on a spoon, and the pen from a fowl's feather cut by the piece of glass. I have this still in my possession.'

The prison governor continued his politeness, and lent me at my desire a German Bible, saying at the same time, 'This I do out of kindness, I have no order to do so; the Queen does not know it.' 'I believe that,' I replied, and thanked him; but I am of opinion that the King knew it well. Some days afterwards Maren Blocks sent for her prayer-book back again. I had taught the woman a morning and evening prayer by heart, and all the morning and evening hymns, which she repeated to me night and morning. I offered to teach her to read if she would procure an A B C. She laughed at this jeeringly, and said, 'People would think me crazed if I were to learn to read now.' I tried to persuade her by argument, in order that I might thus get something to beguile the time with; but far from it; she knew as much as she needed. I sought everywhere for something to divert my thoughts, and as I perceived that the potter, when he had placed the stove, had left a piece of clay lying outside in the other room, I begged the woman to give it to me.

The prison governor saw that she had taken it, but did not ask the reason. I mixed the clay with beer, and made various things, which I frequently altered again into something else; among other things I made the portraits of the prison governor and the woman, and small jugs and vases. And as it occurred to me to try whether I were able to make anything on which I could place a few words to the King, so that the prison governor should not observe it (for I knew well that the woman did not always keep silence; she would probably some time say what I did), I moulded a goblet over the half of the glass in which wine was brought to me, made it round underneath, placed it on three knobs, and wrote the King's name on the side--underneath the bottom these words ... il y a un ... un Auguste.[E34]

[E34] The words 'under the bottom ... to ... Auguste,' inclusive, have been struck out in the MS., and it has been impossible to read more than what here is rendered. In the Autobiography, where the same occurrence is related, Leonora says that she put on it the names both of the King and of the Queen; that on the bottom she wrote to the Queen, and that it was the Queen who discovered the inscription; from which it would appear that the Queen at all events was included in her ingeniously contrived supplique.

I kept it for a long time, not knowing in what way I could manage to get it reported what I was doing, since the woman had solemnly sworn to me not to mention it: so I said one day: 'Does the prison governor ask you what I am doing?' 'Yes, indeed he does,' she replied, 'but I say that you are doing nothing but reading the Bible.' I said: 'You may ingratiate yourself in his favour and say that I am making portraits in clay; there is no reason that he should not know that.' She did so, and three days after he came to me, and was quite gentle, and asked how I passed my time. I answered, 'In reading the Bible.' He expressed his opinion that I must weary of this. I said I liked at intervals to have something else to do, but that this was not allowed me. He enquired what I had wanted the clay for, which the woman had brought in to me; he had seen it when she had brought it in. I said, 'I have made some small trifles.' He requested to see them. So I showed him first the woman's portrait; that pleased him much, as it resembled her; then a small jug, and last of all the goblet. He said at once: 'I will take all this with me and let the King see it; you will perhaps thus obtain permission to have somewhat provided you for pastime,'[85] I was well satisfied. This took place at the mid-day meal. At supper he did not come in. The next day he said to me: 'Well, my dear lady, you have nearly brought me into trouble!' 'How so?' I asked. 'I took the King a petition from you! the Queen did not catch sight of it, but the King saw it directly and said, "So you are now bringing me petitions from Leonora?" I shrank back with terror, and said, "Gracious King! I have brought nothing in writing!" "See here!" exclaimed the King, and he pointed out to me some French writing at the bottom of the goblet. The Queen asked why I had brought anything written that I did not understand. I asserted that I had paid no attention to it, and begged for pardon. The good King defended me, and the _invention_ did not please him ill. Yes, yes, my dear lady! be assured that the King is a gracious sovereign to you, and if he were certain that your husband were dead, you would not remain here!' I was of opinion that my enemies well knew that my husband was dead. I felt that I must therefore peacefully resign myself to the will of God and the King.

[85] In the margin is added: 'The prison governor told me afterwards that the clay things were placed in the King's art-cabinet, besides a rib of mutton, which I used as a knife, which he also gave to the King; hoping (he said) in this way to obtain a knife for me.'

I received nothing which might have beguiled the time to me, except that which I procured secretly, and the prison governor has since then never enquired what I was doing, though he came in every evening and sat for some time talking with me; he was weak, and it was a labour to him to mount so many steps. Thus we got through the year together.

The prison governor gradually began to feel pity for me, and gave me a book which is very pretty, entitled 'Wunderwerck.'[E35] It is a folio, rather old, and here and there torn; but I was well pleased with the gift. And as he sat long of an evening with me, frequently till nine o'clock, talking with me, the malicious woman was irritated.[86] She said to Peder, 'If I were in the prison governor's place, I would not trust her in the way he does. He is weak; what if she were now to run out and take the knife which is lying on the table outside, and were to stab him? She could easily take my life, so I sit in there with my life hanging on a thread.'

[E35] This book was doubtless the German translation of Conr. Lycosthenes' work, 'Prodigiorum ac Ostentorum Chronicon.' It is an amusing illustrated volume, much read in its time. The translation in question appeared in Basle, 1557.

[86] In the margin is added: 'The day that the prison governor had taken away the clay things the woman was very angry with me, because I gave him a small jug which I had made; she said it was made in ridicule of her, the old slut with the jug! I ought to have given him the cat which I had also made. I said, "I can still do so."'

Absurd as the idea was, the knife was not only in consequence hidden under the table, but the prison governor for a long time did not venture to come to me, but sat outside by my outermost door and talked there just as long as before, so that I was no gainer.[87] (I did not know what the woman had said till three years afterwards, when it was mentioned by the prisoner Christian, who had heard the woman's chatter.)

[87] In the margin is added: 'At first when the prison governor's fear was so great, he did not venture to be alone in the outer room. Peder and the tower warder were not allowed both to leave him at the same time. I did not know the reason for this.'

One day when the prison governor intended to go to the holy communion, he stood outside my outermost door and took off his hat, and begged for my forgiveness; he knew, he said, that he had done much to annoy me, but that he was a servant. I answered, 'I forgive you gladly!' Then he went away, and Peder closed the door. The woman said something to Peder about the prison governor, but I could not understand what. Probably she was blaming the prison governor, for she was so angry that she puffed; she could not restrain her anger, but said: 'Fye upon the old fool! The devil take him! I ought to beg pardon too? No' (she added with an oath), 'I would not do it for God's bitter death! No! no!' and she spat on the ground. I said afterwards: 'What does it matter to you that the prison governor asks me for my friendship? Do you lose anything by it? If you will not live like a Christian and according to the ordinances of the Church, do not at any rate be angry with one who does. Believe assuredly that God will punish you, if you do not repent of what evil you have done and will not be reconciled with your adversaries before you seek to be reconciled with God!'

She thought that he had done nothing else than what he was ordered to do. I said, 'You good people know best yourselves what has been ordered you.' She asked, 'Do I do anything to you?' I answered, 'I know not what you do. You can tell any amount of untruths about me without my knowing it.' Upon this she began a long story, swearing by and asserting her fidelity; she had never lied to anyone nor done anyone a wrong. I said: 'I hear; you are justifying yourself with the Pharisee.' She started furiously from her seat and said, 'What! do you abuse me as a Pharisee?' 'Softly, softly!' I said; 'while only one of us is angry, it is of no consequence; but if I get angry also, something may come of it!' She sat down with an insolent air, and said, 'I should well imagine that you are not good when you are angry! It is said of you that in former days you could bear but little, and that you struck at once. But now'----(with this she was silent). 'What more?' I said. 'Do you think I could not do anything to anyone if I chose, just as well as then, if anyone behaved to me in a manner that I could not endure? Now much more than then! You need not refuse me a knife because I may perhaps kill you; I could do so with my bare hands. I can strangle the strongest fellow with my bare hands, if I can seize him unawares, and what more could happen to me than is happening? Therefore only keep quiet!'

She was silent, and assumed no more airs; she was cast down, and did not venture to complain to the prison governor. What she said to the others on the stairs I know not, but when she came in, when the room was locked at night, she had been weeping.[88]

[88] In the margin is added: 'Some time after this dispute I had a quarrel with her about some beer, which she was in the habit of emptying on the floor, saying, "This shall go to the subterraneous folk." I had forbidden her to do so, but she did it again, so I took her by the head and pushed it back with my hand. She was frightened, for this feels just as if one's head was falling off. I said, "That is a foretaste."'

On Sunday at noon I congratulated[E36] the prison governor and said: 'You are happy! You can reconcile yourself with God, and partake of His body and blood; this is denied to me (I had twice during two years requested spiritual consolation, but had received in answer that I could not sin as I was now in prison; that I did not require religious services). And as I talked upon this somewhat fully with the prison governor, I said that those who withheld from me the Lord's Supper must take my sins upon themselves; that one sinned as much in thought as in word and deed; so the prison governor promised that he would never desist from desiring that a clergyman should come to me; and asked whom I wished for. I said: 'The King's Court preacher, whom I had in the beginning of my troubles.' He said: 'That could scarcely be.' I was satisfied whoever it was.

[E36] This custom of congratulating persons who intend to communicate, or just have done so, is still retained by many of the older generation in Denmark.

A month afterwards I received the holy communion from the German clergyman, M. Hieronimus Buk, who behaved very properly the first time, but spoke more about the law than the gospel. The prison governor congratulated me, and I thanked him, for he had brought it about.

1665. In this year, on Whitsun-eve, the prison governor ordered May-trees to be placed in my inner prison, and also in the anteroom. I broke small twigs from the branches, rubbed off the bark with glass, softened them in water, laid them to press under a board, which was used for carrying away the dirt from the floor, and thus made them flat, then fastened them together and formed them into a weaver's reed. Peder the coachman was then persuaded to give me a little coarse thread, which I used for a warp. I took the silk from the new silk stockings which they had given me, and made some broad ribbons of it (The implements and a part of the ribbons are still in my possession.) One of the trees (which was made of the thick end of a branch which Peder had cut off) was tied to the stove, and the other I fastened to my own person. The woman held the warp: she was satisfied, and I have no reason to think that she spoke about it, for the prison governor often lamented that I had nothing with which to beguile the time, and he knew well that this had been my delight in former times, &c.[89]

[89] In the margin is added: 'I made the snuffers serve as scissors. When Balcke came to me and brought me at my desire material for drawers, and requested to know the size, I said I could make them myself. He laughed, and said, "Who will cut them out?" I replied I could do it myself with the snuffers. He begged to see me do it, and looked on with no little astonishment.'

He remained now again a long time with me after meals, for his fear had passed away, or he had, perhaps, forgotten, as his memory began to fail him. He said then many things which he ought not. He declined perceptibly, and was very weak; he would remain afterwards sitting outside, reading aloud, and praying God to spare his life. 'Yes,' he would say, 'only a few years!' When he had some alleviation, he talked unceasingly. Creeping along the wall to the door, he said, 'I should like to know two things: one is, who will be prison governor after me? The other is, who is to to have my Tyrelyre?' (That was Tyre, his wife.) I replied: 'That is a knowledge which you cannot obtain now, especially who will woo your wife. You might, perhaps, have already seen both, but at your age you may yet have long to live.' 'Oh!' said he, 'God grant it!' and looked up to the window. 'Do you think so, my dear lady?' 'Yes, I do,' I replied. A few days afterwards, he begged me again to forgive him, if he had done me any wrong since the last time, for he wished to make reconciliation with God before he became weaker, and he wept and protested, saying, 'It indeed grieves me still that I should have often annoyed you, and you comfort me.' On Sunday at noon I congratulated him on his spiritual feast.

Thus he dragged on with great difficulty for about fourteen days, and as I heard that two men were obliged almost to carry him up the stairs, I sent him word that he might remain below on the ground floor of the tower, and that he might rest assured I would go nowhere. He thanked me, crawled up for the last time to my door, and said, 'If I did that and the Queen heard of it, my head would answer for it.' I said: 'Then confess your weakness and remain in bed. It may be better again; another could meanwhile attend for you.' He took off his cap in recognition of my advice, and bade me farewell. I have never seen him again since then. One day afterwards he crawled up in the tower-chamber, but came no farther.

A man of the name of Hans Balcke was appointed in his place to keep watch over the prisoners. He was very courteous. He was a cabinet-maker by trade; his father, who had also been a cabinet-maker, had worked a good deal for me in the days of my prosperity. This man had travelled for his trade both in Italy and Germany, and knew a little Italian. I found intercourse with him agreeable, and as he dined in the anteroom outside, in the tower, I begged him to dine with me, which he did for fourteen days. One day, when he carved the joint outside, I sent him word requesting him to come in. He excused himself, which appeared strange to me.

After he had dined, he said that Peder the coachman had jeered at him, and that he had been forbidden to dine with me. When he afterwards remained rather long with me talking, I begged him myself to go, so that this also might not be forbidden. He had on one occasion a large pin stuck in his sleeve, and I begged him for it. He said, 'I may not give it you, but if you take it yourself, I can't help it.' So I took it, and it has often been of use to me. He gave me several books to read, and was in every way courteous and polite. His courtesy was probably the reason why the prisons were not long entrusted to him, for he was also very good to Doctor Sperling, giving him slices of the meat which came up to me, and other good food. In his childhood he had been a playfellow of the doctor's children. He talked also occasionally a long time with the doctor, both on unlocking and locking his door, which did not please the servants.[90] The prison governor lay constantly in bed; he endeavoured as often as he could to come up again, but there was little prospect of it. So long as the keys were not taken from him, he was satisfied.

[90] In the margin is added: 'While Balcke filled the place of prison governor, he drank my wine at every meal, which had formerly fallen to the tower warder, the coachman, or the prisoner Christian, when the old prison governor had not wished for it, so that this also contributed to Balcke's dismissal.'

My maid Maren, Lars' daughter, had risen so high in favour at court, that she often sat in the women's apartment, and did various things. One day the woman said to me, 'That is a very faithful maiden whom you have! She speaks before them up there in a manner you would never believe.' I replied: 'I have permitted her to say all she knows. I have no fear of her calumniating me.' 'Have you not?' she said ironically. 'Why does she throw herself, then, on her bare knees, and curse herself if she should think of returning to you?' I said: 'She wished to remain with me (according to your own statement), but she was not allowed; so she need not curse herself.' 'Why then do you think,' said she, 'that she is so much in favour at court?' 'Do you mean,' I replied, 'that if anyone is in favour at court, it is because their lips are full of lies? I am assured my maid has calumniated no one, least of all me; I am not afraid.'

The woman was angry, and pouted in consequence for some time. Some weeks afterwards Maren, Lars' daughter, was set at liberty, and became waiting-maid to the Countess Friis: and Balcke brought me some linen which she still had belonging to me. The woman was not a little angry at this, especially as I said: 'So faithful I perceive is my maid to me, that she will not keep the linen, which she might easily have done, for I could not know whether it had not been taken from her with the rest.'

All my guards were very ill satisfied with Balcke, especially the woman, who was angry for several reasons. He slighted her, she said, for he had supplied a basin for the night-stool which was heavier than the former one (which leaked); but she was chiefly angry because he told her that she lived like a heathen, since she never went to the sacrament. For when I once received the holy communion, while Balcke was attending to me, he asked her if she would not wish to communicate also, to which she answered, 'I do not know German.' Balcke said, 'I will arrange that the clergyman shall come to you whose office it is to administer the Lord's Supper to the prisoners.' She replied that in this place she could not go with the proper devotion: if she came out, she would go gladly. Balcke admonished her severely, as a clergyman might have done. When the door was closed, she gave vent to puffing and blowing, and she always unfastened her jacket when she was angry.

I said nothing, but I thought the evil humour must have vent, or she will be choked; and this was the case, for she abused Balcke with the strongest language that occurred to her. She used unheard-of curses, which were terrible to listen to: among others, 'God damn him for ever, and then I need not curse him every day.' Also, 'May God make him evaporate like the dew before the sun!' I could not endure this cursing, and I said, 'Are you cursing this man because he held before you the word of God, and desires that you should be reconciled with God and repent your sins?' 'I do not curse him for that,' she said, 'but on account of the heavy basin which the accursed fellow has given me, and which I have to carry up the steep stairs;[91] the devil must have moved him to choose it! Does he want to make a priest of himself? Well, he is probably faultless, the saucy fellow!' and she began again with her curses.

[91] In the margin: 'It is indeed a bad flight of stairs to the place where the basin was emptied.'

I reproved her and said: 'If he now knew that you were cursing him in this way, do you not think he would bring it about that you must do penitence? It is now almost two years since you were at the Lord's table, and you can have the clergyman and you will not.' This softened her a little, and she said, 'How should he know it, unless you tell him?' I said, 'What passes here and is said here concerns no one but us two; it is not necessary that others should know.' With this all was well; she lay down to sleep, and her anger passed away; but the hate remained.

The prison governor continued to lie in great pain, and could neither live nor die. One day at noon, when Balcke unlocked (it was just twenty weeks since he had come to me), a man came in with him, very badly dressed, in a grey, torn, greasy coat, with few buttons that could be fastened, with an old hat to which was attached a drooping feather that had once been white but was now not recognisable from dirt. He wore linen stockings and a pair of worn-out shoes fastened with packthread.[92] Balcke went to the table outside and carved the joint; he then went to the door of the outer apartment, stood with his hat in his hand, made a low reverence, and said, 'Herewith I take my departure; this man is to be prison governor.' I enquired whether he would not come again to me. He replied, 'No, not after this time.' Upon this I thanked him for his courteous attendance, and wished him prosperity.[93]

[92] In the margin is added: 'Gabel had said (I was afterwards informed) that I was frightened at the appearance of the man, and thought it was the executioner. I did not regard him as such, but as a poor cavalier, and I imagined he was to undertake the duties which Peder the coachman performed.'

[93] In the margin: 'Balcke has waited upon me for twenty weeks, and he was accused of having told me what happened outside. In proof of this it was alleged that he had told me that Gabel had been made Statholder, to whom I afterwards gave this title in M. Buck's hearing. Balcke one day could not restrain himself from laughing, for while he was standing and talking with me, the woman and the man were standing on the stairs outside, chuckling and laughing; and he said, "Outside there is the chatter market. Why does not Peder so arrange it that it is forbidden? You can get to know all that goes on in the world without me."'

Peder the coachman locked the door, and the new prison governor, whose name was Johan Jaeger,[E37] never appeared before me the whole day, nor during the evening. I said to the woman in the morning, 'Ask Peder who the man is;' which she did, and returned to me with the answer that it was the man who had taken the Doctor prisoner; and that now he was to be prison governor, but that he had not yet received the keys. Not many days passed before he came with the Lord Steward to the old prison governor, and the keys were taken from the old man and given to him. The old man lived only to the day after this occurred. In both respects his curiosity was satisfied; he saw the man who was to be prison governor after him (to his grief), and the doctor who attended him obtained his Tyrelyre before the year was ended.

[E37] It was a Colonel Hagedorn that entrapped and arrested Dr. Sperling, and Jaeger played only a subordinate part in that transaction. He is stated to have been a cousin of Gabel, and to have been formerly a commander in the navy. He was appointed prison governor on June 12, 1665, and Balcke therefore doubtless only held the appointment provisionally.

The new prison governor Jaeger[E37b] did not salute me for several weeks, and never spoke to me. He rarely locked my doors, but he generally opened them himself. At length one day, when he had got new shoes on, he took his hat off when he had opened the door, and said 'Good morning.' I answered him, 'Many thanks.' The woman was very pleased while this lasted. She had her free talk with Peder the coachman (who still for a couple of months came to the tower as before) and with the prisoner Christian, who had great freedom, and obtained more and more freedom in this prison governor's time, especially as Rasmus the tower-warder was made gatekeeper, and a man of the name of Chresten was appointed in his place. Among other idle talk which she repeated to me, she said that this prison governor was forbidden to speak with me. I said, 'I am very glad, as he then can tell no lies about me.' I am of opinion that he did not venture to speak with me so long as Peder brought up the food to the tower, and was in waiting there; for when he had procured Peder's dismissal on account of stealing, he came in afterwards from time to time. The very first time he was intoxicated. He knew what Peder had said of Balcke, and he informed me of it.[94]

[E37b] It was a Colonel Hagedorn that entrapped and arrested Dr. Sperling, and Jaeger played only a subordinate part in that transaction. He is stated to have been a cousin of Gabel, and to have been formerly a commander in the navy. He was appointed prison governor on June 12, 1665, and Balcke therefore doubtless only held the appointment provisionally.

[94] In the margin is added: 'While Balcke waited on me, a folding table was brought in for the bread and glasses, and also for the woman's food, which she did not take till the doors had been locked. There was nothing there before but the night-stool to place the dishes on: that was the woman's table.'

Before I mention anything of the prisoner Christian's designs against me, I will in a few words state the crime for which he was in prison. He had been a lacquey in the employ of Maans Armfelt. With some other lacqueys he had got into a quarrel with a man who had been a father to Christian, and who had brought him up from his youth and had taken the utmost care of him. The man was fatally wounded, and called out in the agonies of death: 'God punish thee, Christian! What a son you have been! It was your hand that struck me!' The other lacqueys ran away, but Christian was seized. His dagger was found bloody. He denied, and said it was not he who had stabbed the man. He was sentenced to death; but as the dead man's widow would not pay for the execution, Christian remained for the time in prison, and his master paid for his maintenance. He had been there three years already when I came to the prison, and three times he was removed; first from the Witch Cell to the Dark Church; and then here where I am imprisoned.[95] When I was brought here, he was placed where the Doctor is, and when the Doctor was brought in, Christian was allowed to go freely about the tower. He wound the clock for the tower-warder, locked and unlocked the cells below, and had often even the keys of the tower.

[95] In the margin is added: 'At that time there was a large double window with iron grating, which was walled up when I was brought here; and Christian told me afterwards how the maids in the store-room had supplied him with many a can of beer, which he had drawn up by a cord.'

I remember once, when Rasmus the tower-warder was sitting at dinner with the prison governor in my outermost cell, and the prison governor wished to send Peder on a message, he said to Rasmus: 'Go and open! I want Peder to order something. 'Father,' said Rasmus, 'Christian has the key.' 'Indeed!' said the prison governor; 'that is pretty work!' And there it rested, for Rasmus said, 'I am perfectly sure that Christian will not go away.' Thus by degrees Christian's freedom and power increased after Peder the coachman left, and he waited on the prison governor at meals in my outermost room.

One day, when the woman had come down from above, where she had been emptying the utensils in my room, and the doors were locked, she said to me: 'This Christian who is here has been just speaking with me upstairs. He says he cannot describe the Doctor's miserable condition, how severe is his imprisonment, and what bad food he gets, since Balcke left. He has no longer any candle except during meal-time, and no light reaches him but through the hole in his door leading into the outer room. He begged me to tell you of it; his eyes were full of tears, such great pity had he for him.' I said: 'That is all that one can do, and it is the duty of a Christian to sympathise with the misfortune of one's neighbour. The poor man must have patience as well as I, and we must console ourselves with a good conscience. The harder he suffers the sooner comes the end; he is an old man.'

Two days afterwards she came again with some talk from Christian. The Doctor sent me his compliments, and he asked constantly if I was well; she said also, that Christian would give him anything I liked to send him. I regarded this as a snare, but I said that Christian could take a piece of roast meat when the prison governor was with me, and that he should look about for something into which wine could be poured, and then she could secretly give some from my glass, and beg Christian to give my compliments to the Doctor. This was accepted, and I had rest for a few days. Christian conformed entirely to the woman, caused a dispute between her and the tower-warder, and made it immediately right again; so that there was no lack of chatter. At last she said one day: 'That is an honest fellow, this Christian! He has told me how innocently he got into prison and was sentenced. He is afraid that you may think he eats and drinks all that you send to the Doctor. He swore with a solemn oath that he would be true to you, if you would write a word to the Doctor.[96] I hope you do not doubt my fidelity!' and she began to swear and to curse herself if she would deceive me. She said, he had taken a no less solemn oath, before she believed him. I said: 'I have nothing to write to him. I do not know what I have to write.' 'Oh!' said she, 'write only two words, so that the old man may see that he can trust him! If you wish for ink, Christian can give you some.' I replied: 'I have something to write with, if I choose to do so, and I can write without ink and paper.'

[96] In the margin is this note: 'Christian had at that time given me some pieces of flint which are so sharp that I can cut fine linen with them by the thread. The pieces are still in my possession, and with this implement I executed various things.'