Sylvia

by Bryce Courtenay

  The incident at the bathhouse: ‘While our Saviour commands us to turn the other cheek, the good Father John who created the stave for your protection blessed it in holy water and advised that you were to use the dagger if in danger. I have no doubt that the woman who attacked you would have cut your face in a most severe manner. Therefore I must pronounce your actions as both very brave and appropriate to the circumstances. You committed the sin of stubbornness, in that you did not forego your bath. It is a minor sin, my child. As for thy being named the Petticoat Angel, it was in response to your singing and a most pleasing compliment.’

  When I reached the confession involving the blood on the rose I began, ‘Father, I must explain the blood on the rose.’

  But he bade me be silent. ‘Sylvia, this is not a matter for the confessional. Two priests are involved, one of whom is a noted scribe and clerk and was present when the blood appeared. Both have witnessed the Miracle of the Birds. It may take a while to prepare this matter for examination by the bishop and the archbishop, then beyond to the Ecclesiastical Council in Rome for a decision to be made. This matter will take a great deal of time. I forbid you to talk any further on the subject. Nicholas tells me that already people in the market are talking about the blood on the Virgin’s white rose, which is most difficult, as these things are soon taken over by the commonfolk and reinterpreted by means of rumour and hearsay. I am now convinced God is working through you for a higher purpose that we do not yet understand.’

  Finally he pronounced my penance. ‘You have sinned in chastising the peasant woman and you sinned with your stubbornness in the bathhouse: you are to say twenty Hail Marys and ask for forgiveness. You may now commence the study and preparations for your first communion and in three months time you may partake of the bread and the wine, the body and the spirit of our blessed Lord.’ He smiled. ‘As further penance you are required to sing a solo Gloria after mass. Let us pray.’

  Afterwards, as Father Hermann was about to take his leave he stopped and asked, ‘Can you read Latin, Sylvia?’

  ‘Nay, Father, but I am most anxious to learn.’

  He seemed only to hear my denial. ‘How long does it take you to learn a part of the mass, a Gloria?’

  ‘If it is sung or said twice,’ I replied.

  ‘Then would you this Sunday sing what I have composed, Summi Regis cor aveto, the first hymn to the Sacred Heart?’ he asked shyly.

  ‘I would be honoured, Father.’

  ‘Good, I will make a time for you to rehearse after you have come for your first confirmation lesson.’

  The next three months were taken up with learning my catechisms, the Scriptures and duties required for my confirmation. I was greatly excited when the time came for the bishop to accept me into God’s Holy Church and so allow me to participate in my first mass. It was for me a most auspicious and exciting occasion as Reinhardt and the girls in Ali Baba’s who belonged to the Church of Rome all attended. Afterwards they threw a grand party in my honour with all the courtesans of every nation and religion at Ali Baba’s joining in. Master Yap, to our great surprise, supplied the food and drink without a single grumble at the extravagance. In a short speech he said anyone who could make the nightingales sing was truly blessed by God.

  It was a momentous afternoon during which there was a great deal of giggling as we, who had attended church, all recognised the bishop as a regular patron at Ali Baba’s who was known to have a very funny proclivity. He required honey to be spread on the lips, breasts, stomach and to the one-eyed dragon’s cave of the courtesan he chose, whereupon he would proceed to feast upon her, to his ultimate satisfaction.

  I did not mention this in my prayers that night, as God must have had a very good reason to create him a bishop, though I couldn’t think what this might be.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Of Whores and Heretics

  WITH FEW EXCEPTIONS I grew most fond of the courtesans at Ali Baba’s and they of me, and soon I knew a great deal about pleasing a man even though I had never laid my hand upon one in a gesture of pleasuring.

  Each had her secrets, the Nubians, the Slavs, Greeks, Egyptians and Chinese as well as all the others, and while they guarded their special talents for male arousal from each other, they told me willingly of their various wiles and the ways and means of pleasing a man. Some men when drunk cannot raise the sword of honour and they told me how this might be done.

  Other men are old but have not lost their appetite, yet cannot reach arousal, and they instructed me how such may be truly satisfied and leave with their manliness intact. They showed me how to prolong a young man who pleasures too soon and then how to bring him to frequent pleasure until he cries for mercy so that he may brag to his friends of his achievements and so bring them to taste the courtesan’s delights. Demonstrating on a small marrow they taught me how to use my mouth to best effect. How to enchant a man by touching him in various places and how to massage him so that he becomes so soothed and satisfied that he returns another night for this alone.

  All this was done with much giggling and laughter so thatI became the most knowledgeable courtesan of all but had yet to bed a man. I learned from the Nubian girls how to assuage the pains a man may have to his back or legs and how to soothe the brow or rub the neck to remove a headache.

  And to please the girls in return I had them teach me the songs of their native lands. These lovely melodies I would sing and Reinhardt play when we weren’t busy, or late at night when the drunks snored and the girls could relax a while. It is strange that the lute and the harp and many of the other musical instruments only know some languages, but the flute knows them all. Often there would be tears among the courtesans as they forgot how cruel their earlier lives had been and remembered loved ones in far-off lands.

  I also learned the art of utmost discretion: that unwritten law that whosoever entered Ali Baba’s left it yet a stranger. Should the Pope himself (God forbid) visit, when he left it would be as if he had never been. I was witness to the presence of many of the most noble, rich and important men of Cologne and beyond, bishops and judges, counts and knights, guildmen and rich corn and silk merchants, lawyers, princes and traders from across the seas. What was said or done within was, as if by magic, evaporated in the air once they’d returned to the outside world. If one were to meet them on the street there would not be the merest flicker of recognition.

  It was here also that I learned what everybody seemed to know already: that Reinhardt did not care for a woman’s love. When, afterwards, I thought upon the matter, there seemed a thousand instances when it should have been plain as the nose on my face to see his proclivity. But in my naivety I had thought him ever gallant, true to his promise that he would not attempt to seduce me, when all the while he had no such inclination and it was my own vanity that blinded me. I had often enough suffered through many a lugubrious sermon, delivered from the pulpit of Father Pietrus, that the sin of sodomy was one of the greatest in God’s eyes; that he who loves men in the way that men love women was possessed by demons and would burn in eternal hellfire.

  Jew and sodomite, both were thought to be evil incarnate. Yet I had found Master Israel and Frau Sarah more kind to me than any mortal being other than my own mother and, of course, Reinhardt. Master Yap, another Semite, while snappy and unhappy was a fair man and if he did not treat us with affection we were no exception. Affection was not within his nature and he was born a pessimist, forever waiting for the sky to fall down. Although perhaps I judge him too harshly, for the night I made his nightingales sing he placed a gold coin in my hand. If I was not mistaken, his dark eyes wore a sudden mistiness and he clasped my hand to his chest a little longer than he might otherwise.

  I knew Reinhardt for my fosterer and friend who only wished for our success. He had never harmed me in the least and taught me all he knew of Latin and told me grand stories of olden times and always used his cunning and contrivance in our mutual interest. He was no angel, a consummate liar and ever on t
he lookout for some advantage to himself with little thought of conscience. But no sister could possess a better and more faithful brother and I would still honour him, even if he should be named a sodomite in public and ridiculed by all. Even, I told myself, if the Church condemned me for it. But every night from that time on I prayed that God would forgive him and show him his errant ways, for I told the good Lord that the heavenly choir would possess an even sweeter sound with the accompaniment of Reinhardt’s wondrous flighty flute.

  More and more I was beginning to ask questions of the Holy Church. If Jews who showed Christians kindness, and the sirrah (which was another name used to describe someone of Reinhardt proclivity) proved my valued friends, and both were condemned to Satan’s furious fires, what then of he who fornicates with little girls? Was he not the greater sinner? It seemed not. Father Pietrus never spoke of this infamy as sin. But for his untimely death and the lack of time to make his confession and receive a suitable penance, upon embarking on a crusade the Church had decreed my father’s sins forgiven and he would now rest in paradise. God’s laws, I was discovering, are sometimes difficult to understand.

  I was not alone in my high regard for the Pied Piper of Hamelin. The girls at Ali Baba’s treated him as if he were one of them. They would spend hours with him on their presentation and manner of dressing so they would appear the more comely. They consulted him on the tone they chose to colour their lips or prepare their eyes or what style their hair or what gown to wear so that they would seem all the more alluring. He became the authority on their every beauty concern and they faithfully followed his every whim, even though sometimes I would think he had gone too far with his outrageousness.

  He made them to walk with their shoulders thrown back and to bounce off their toes, heels slightly raised so their hips swung provocatively. ‘Thy arse must move as two round river stones set to grinding corn!’ he’d shout out. ‘It should be the promise of the rich treasure that lies buried in thy pussy cave that the one-eyed dragon must, at any cost, hasten to enter and so save the maiden in distress! Look at the Nubian, she can do it without thinking!’ The girls would squeal with laughter and do as he bade, practising for hours with the courtesan from Africa showing them how to drive men crazy by viewing from behind.

  They loved, admired and respected him and took his advice in other matters concerning their health – some small blemish to the skin or the misconduct of their bowels or bladders or the sweetness of their breath. He would obtain herbs and cures from Frau Sarah and claim them as his own, Reinhardt the good doctor in attendance. He patched their quarrels, made them laugh when they were sad and told them outrageous stories that set them to giggling until they couldn’t stop. I had never seen him happier and Master Yap, despite his pessimistic disposition, respected him.

  But, oh dear! When his pied suit was finally ready what a to-do this caused at Ali Baba’s. With the courtesans all watching, Reinhardt commenced the grand parade. He had them all clapping and giggling and ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ as he played the part of musician-extraordinaire with the greatest style and a little playful buffoonery. His new mincing step was a wonder to behold for he had caused heels to be placed on his pointy boots so when he walked it gave a haughty and most provocative look. Soon he contrived new suits even more extravagant and outrageous than his pied one, so that most of what he earned was paid back at once to Master Israel since the Pied Piper of Hamelin’s taste in apparel fell well beyond our clothing contract with Frau Sarah.

  Frau Sarah had been right about featuring us in Master Yap’s winkelhaus. I had always supposed that the men who visited had no ear for music. I had grown accustomed to our receiving no applause as they sat unresponsive among the cushions, drinking wine and listening to the courtesans whispering sweet nothings in their ears. But it seemed I was quite wrong. We were soon invited to noble houses and rich men’s homes as the musical entertainment and we commanded the highest fees. Other musicians of a high quality, mostly French and Italian, soon heard of the Jewess Sarah’s fame and contacted her, requesting that they be placed under her care. Frau Sarah kept to the same strict rules and chose only the best of their kind. This suited some and others not and those who would not abide by her dictates – no drunkenness, theft, dalliance or loud and boastful behaviour – were soon sent on their way.

  By the end of one year she had built a thriving business and Master Israel was also obliged to expand his tailoring shop. This came about not only because Frau Sarah dressed all her entertainers but also from Reinhardt’s foppish style of dressing being noted by young noblemen who flocked to the little Jewish tailor so they might be attired with the same design, cut and fit. Soon Master Israel had six good women doing his needlework and another tailor and apprentice working for him. Frau Sarah appointed a cousin who was a bootmaker and Reinhardt designed boots of every colour for him to make with heels the height of her forefinger. These came to be called ‘Hamelin heels’ and were soon all the rage among the best-dressed young nobles and knights. Frau Sarah ran all these businesses and seemed all the happier for it. ‘My most cherished hope is that I never again have cause to thread a needle other than when it brings me joy, such as making a garment for you, Sylvia,’ she had once said.

  Her reputation for the quality, discretion, courtly manners, cleanliness and suitable attire of her musicians soon spread in Cologne and Bonn and at castles in the nearby countryside. No event of importance, christening, wedding feast or any other celebration among the high society, was complete without her furnishing the means of musical entertainment.

  In the matter of courtly manners I was of course greatly lacking. Peasants are not shown how to behave in polite company and I was to discover that chastity and modesty were not enough in the complexities of modern society, in particular my table manners. Frau Sarah approached me on the matter the first time when we were to visit the home of a rich merchant to entertain, and I was confounded at how complex the simple matter of eating could become.

  ‘Men shall want you as their pretty daughter,’ she declared, ‘and so you will need to mind your manners well when eating, for it is here that most are first judged and if found wanting it is difficult to recover the initial advantage you possessed from your appearance.’

  ‘But I know nought of manners,’ I cried, alarmed. In the winkelhaus we ate our evening meal in the kitchen and so no mannerly ways were required, as all within ate in the same accustomed way.

  ‘Thou art such a pretty one and sprightly and quick of mind that I constantly place you beyond your station and forget you are a peasant girl but lately arrived in the city,’ she said.

  ‘How does one learn manners?’ I asked. ‘For I would greatly desire to have them for myself, Frau Sarah.’

  And so began a lesson that would continue for many months. As she pinned and tucked and stitched my gowns she made me learn a list of what to do when I supped with a man, or a lady or anyone from that time on. ‘Manners,’ she explained, ‘are not for parading, but must instead be a natural part of your demeanour, so you do not ever have to think upon them in company and you affect them unknowingly in private.’

  I was amazed how complex these mannerisms were. While sitting at a table, no elbow to lean upon it, hands scrubbed and nails well groomed and clean. Food to be plucked from the bowl with only the forefinger and thumb, and if a lady, the remaining three fingers extended so they do not touch the food. If your hands cannot wait until the water bowl and cloth are brought at the conclusion of the feast then the underpart of thy garment sleeves must be used to wipe them. The salt is not to be touched with the food where it sits in the salt dish. This instruction I found most curious, for I had never encountered salt but knew it only for a precious commodity and should I come upon it, then I would know myself to be in the grandest company. Moreover, I would not touch it at all, not knowing what quantities to be used.

  There was one instruction I already understood: if you can, please refrain from belching at the table. Never sta
rt to eat before all are ready to partake. Strangest of all, if thine own bowl, and perchance the contents is soup or curds, the bowl is not to be brought up to the mouth and supped, but the contents taken up with a spoon, scoop by scoop. This is a mannerism most inconvenient, for the soup may well be cold by the time thy bowl is emptied by such laborious means and is easily spilled when carried the journey from bowl to mouth. Nor must thou, under any circumstances, gnaw a bone with thy teeth.

  These were but the barest necessities to good manners and there were many other rules of behaviour that I would learn so I could pass for a respectable and respectful maiden. My good fortune was that, while a Jew and kosher and therefore not able to attend a feast or dine with Gentiles, Frau Sarah, who had once been a serving maid in a noble house, knew all the courtly ways and rehearsed me in these social niceties. She seemed to very much enjoy this teaching.

  In the months that followed she would often regale me with pieces of advice that were always cogent to the time of my development as a woman and the experience I underwent in our partnership. For instance, she might say things such as, ‘They say you cannot turn a crow into a falcon, but we shall prove them wrong, Sylvia. A pretty woman may happily slip between the sheets of an emperor’s bed providing her manners are correct, her body clean, her breath sweet and her mind nimble. But most of all, if she can curry favour with his courtiers and win their trust.

  ‘It is seldom the king who is the high-lofty, but those that fawn in his service and are protective of their own position and puffed-up with self-importance. The Jew knows that the biggest bribe is not always to the master, but most often to those who guard access to him. If the servant’s right hand is held open and the left is a fist, the right will close when gold is placed upon it and the left open to reveal the key to his master’s presence. Always look where the bribe is best placed. Even when there is more than sufficient and there is no need for further gain, greed is never satisfied and lies in almost every heart, curled as a serpent, ready to strike.’