The Witch of Cologne

by Tobsha Learner

  ‘Forgiveness is for our maker to give, not me. Sir, I know you only as the man who betrayed my father and widowed my mother. Your business is with the dead, not the living.’

  ‘Jacob, you must believe me, they promised me they would pardon your father, that if he made a full confession he might even be reinstated to his post in the cathedral. You must understand that they were threatening to destroy the von Tennen name, to take our land. I could not allow that to happen. Ours is an ancient family and—’

  ‘You lie, sir!’

  ‘I have lied many times in my life and practised many deceits, and I have paid penance for them, my boy, both in deed and in spirit. But in this I do not deceive. I have had your father’s body exhumed, he now lies in the family chapel where he belongs. Detlef was my kin, my brother, just as you…’

  The aristocrat’s voice cracks with emotion as he realises how far he has journeyed over the years.

  ‘You are my nephew.’

  Overwhelmed, Jacob sinks into a chair. The count reaches into the leather satchel lying at his feet and pulls out a bottle of Clos Vougeot, an expensive vintage Jacob has only ever dreamt of tasting. The old man uncorks it vigorously and, after tossing the stale claret onto the floor, pours himself and his nephew a glass.

  With an elegant flourish that could only have been taught by a woman of breeding, his mistress perhaps, the count guesses, Jacob lifts the glass to his mouth and allows the delicious liquid to slowly saturate his palate. He is more von Tennen than he realises, the count notes, secretly delighted.

  It has taken Gerhard years of examining his own behaviour—his intense remorse over Detlef’s death, his subsequent immersion in his duties as overseer of the von Tennen estates, his gradual comprehension of the struggles of his serfs—to attain the realisation that all men begin and end equal, in birth, love and death. He is content to have finally found acceptance in his heart. And now he is rewarded, for despite the boy’s mixed heritage and his anger towards his parents, Gerhard is pleased to see that he still displays the virtues and, more importantly, the fortitude of his father’s class.

  ‘Your father died refusing to betray your mother and you. I believe that at the very end he found solace in both his faith and his love for his family.’

  ‘My father was murdered.’

  ‘And it gives me great pleasure to inform you that his murderer, the inquisitor Carlos Vicente Solitario, perished a day later—an act of divine intervention, I am sure.’

  For the first time since the nobleman’s arrival the young poet smiles. The count, encouraged, leans closer.

  ‘Nephew, there are many changes in the Rhineland. I myself have converted to Luther and taken to the plain ways and cloth of the Protestant. The Holy Free City has opened up and many non-Catholics, both Jew and Protestant, now trade freely. Even the nepotism that blighted the city council is being challenged. Nikolaus Gülich, a man your father supported, is at the vanguard of the revolt and his power grows daily. Detlef once urged me to take to heart the plight of my peasants and this I have done. My serfs know neither plague nor starvation. All this I have undertaken in the name and spirit of my dear brother. This has been my penance. But I am old, and finally, and most thankfully, I am dying.’

  Stunned, Jacob looks up. The count suddenly seems to radiate a new frailty.

  ‘I was married once, a loveless arranged affair that proved barren in every way. For all the grief and disaffection between us, you are my heir, Jacob, the only one I have.’

  ‘I, to go to Germania? To inherit the von Tennen estate, the title?’

  The young poet stares at him astonished.

  The count nods, anticipation molten in his veins. To his shock, Jacob leaps up and strides to the door.

  ‘Do not insult me, sir!’

  Startled, the count knocks over his glass of wine.

  ‘I am half Hebrew, this you know well. As such I cannot own German land. Good day to you, sir.’

  With a curt bow Jacob waits at the open door.

  Furious, the count draws himself up stiffly in the chair.

  ‘You are a von Tennen! You will always be a von Tennen, whoever and whatever your mother was! I know it will not be easy, I know there will be hostility and resistance to you as my heir. But I intend to defy all authority that stands between me and my decision.’

  There is a silence; neither man moves. Then Jacob closes the door.

  ‘You must understand that I mean to do well, but entirely on my own talents.’

  ‘But I can help you, just as you can help me. We are family, Jacob. Whatever state, crown and church think. You are my blood.’

  For a moment Jacob seems to waver. His eyes wander down to his mother’s slim volume and to his surprise he finds himself contemplating what his parents would have wanted. Ruth’s dying words float back into his mind: ‘You must fight tyranny always, live for the freedom of belief, freedom of thought—this is our gift to you.’ Is this what he has done with his life so far? How much change can he achieve through his sonnets—which are, he thinks ruefully, merely imaginative allegories in the style of his hero, the English poet Milton.

  He reaches for a chair and sits again. After some moments of intense contemplation he looks up.

  ‘I shall return with you on the following conditions. Firstly, I must be free to pursue my philosophical pursuits and poetic ambitions. Secondly, each peasant on the estate is to be offered a portion of the land he farms.’

  He pauses then pulls Ruth’s book protectively towards him. ‘Thirdly, you agree to have a midwife trained in my mother’s techniques to service the women of the region.’

  ‘You drive a hard bargain.’

  ‘Refuse me and you return to your estate without an heir.’

  Again the count is pleased by the uncompromising astuteness of the boy. He shows more ruthlessness than both his mother and father, the aristocrat notes, he is a survivor. After a long sigh, he places a withered hand upon Jacob’s to seal the agreement.

  The youth kneels in a wooden pew of the church, once a Catholic chapel, now stripped back to Lutheran simplicity. The dull afternoon light struggles to breach a large hexagonal window set in the wall behind the altar, its stained glass depicting the crucifixion. Jacob, his knees aching, is looking at the figure of a Teutonic knight in the armour of a medieval nobleman standing at the foot of the cross gazing up into the face of the Saviour. Which of Father’s ancestors is that? he wonders.

  The touch of his uncle’s hand on his shoulder pulls him sharply back to the present. He stands and turns to where the pastor waits at the tomb of Detlef von Tennen, and hears the small choir begin a hymn in plain German.

  Jacob stares at the unadorned marble tomb, its lid pushed to one side, and marvels at how such a vital being could be reduced to dust and bones. Is this all life leads to, the banality of matter? He is young enough to think so, yet staring at the hollowed skull of his father he cannot help but remember being lifted in the air by Detlef’s huge hands, laughing down at the smiling face he recalls as alight with warmth. My father. The mysterious figure whose death has shaped my life.

  For the first time since Jacob was four, he sees before him a physical manifestation of a figure who, after his passing, became myth. So why does the sight not move me? he thinks, wondering at the numbness that seems to paralyse his heart. Is it because, in some ways, the scene is so ordinary? His legs hurt, the back of his neck is cold, he can see a beetle crawling up the side of Detlef’s tomb indifferent to all around it.

  His musings are interrupted by a nudge from his uncle. Jacob picks up the urn that contains his mother’s remains. Surprised at its lightness, he finds himself having to suppress the unexpected desire to laugh; suddenly the sombreness and formality of the occasion seems ridiculous to him. Who are these mourners? None of them, except his uncle, knew his parents, and certainly none of them were party to their marriage. He was the only witness of that great love, but what is the point of such a strong union when this is
where it ends? Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. What remains of the impassioned flesh, the soaring spirit?

  Jacob slowly approaches the tomb and begins to scatter Ruth’s remains over the broken skeleton that was once Detlef von Tennen. As he does so, the faint scent of jasmine floats through the chapel.

  The pastor moves forward. ‘Our Father who art in Heaven, bless and grant rest to these two souls who, parted in life, are now finally united in death.’

  He makes the sign of the cross and the assembled—the count and several servants of the household—lower their heads in prayer.

  As two sturdy peasants push the heavy lid back into place, Jacob notices that two new lines have been etched into the marble above his father’s name. Ruth bas Elazar Saul he reads, engraved in perfect Hebrew, and below, die Frau von Detlef von Tennen.

  Reaching out, he traces the letters with his fingers, and finds himself whispering them aloud in the language his mother taught him. It is then, finally, that the grief bursts through and the boy falls to his knees with a wail of sorrow, pain and deep sadness.

  The priest glances at Gerhard, mortified at the sight of the weeping youth kneeling with his arms around his father’s tomb, but the count ignores him. He walks over to Jacob and, laying his cane upon the ground, lowers himself down beside him, then places one hand on his nephew’s heaving shoulders and the other on his brother’s tomb. For a moment the church is silent but for the sound of the boy’s muffled crying and Gerhard’s voice, direct and clear, asking Detlef for absolution.

  A dove who has made her nest at the back of the shrine joins in with her cooing. After peeping curiously down at the figures clustered around the marble tomb, she flies across the rafters and out into the bright sunlight beyond.

  HISTORICAL BACKDROP

  GERMANIA

  After the Thirty Years’ War between the Lutherans and the Catholics ended in 1648, Germania was a confusing quilt of many small princedoms with religious allegiances split between Catholic and Protestant. However, by 1665 Germania had evolved into the fulcrum upon which an international balance of power turned. There were two main forces: in the north, Prussia was controlled by the Lutheran royal, the Great Elector Frederick William (1640–88); in the south, the Catholic Hapsburg emperor, Leopold I, ruled out of Vienna, and had final jurisdiction over Cologne. Each was the nucleus of an international struggle and each exploited the struggle of its rival.

  At the same time other tensions existed: in the north, there was a push for new territory prompted by Charles X of Sweden; and in the south, by Louis XIV of France and Mahomet IV, Sultan of Turkey.

  The outcome of these struggles was a new European state system, brought into existence by 1715. The German states’ involvement in creating the new political Europe deflected their interest away from attempts to strengthen or alter the German structure of state rights as embodied by the Catholic Holy Roman Empire, of which Cologne was a part.

  HAPSBURG EMPIRE

  By 1665 the Hapsburg Empire was a shadow of its former tyrannical self. Weakened by the Thirty Years’ War, the young Emperor Leopold was under attack from the Sultan of the aggressive Ottoman Empire, Mahomet IV, and threatened by the ambitions of the French King Louis XIV who was battling the Hapsburgs for territories in the Spanish Netherlands.

  As the Wittelsbach electors of Bavaria (of which Maximilian Heinrich was one) were traditionally allied with France, Leopold had to remain constantly vigilant to ensure that his power over those territories of the Holy Roman Empire was not undermined.

  THE NETHERLANDS

  Jan de Witt was the councillor pensionary of Holland from 1653–72, and led the Dutch Republic after the end of its war of independence. A remarkable intellectual in his own right, he was the champion of many resident philosophers and scientists who had taken refuge in the tolerant (and comparatively secular) Netherlands. In 1665 Holland was embroiled in an expensive and bloody sea war with the English, primarily over trading rights and ownership of the spice islands. As a result, de Witt came under increased pressure from the royalists within his own country.

  Holland was allied with France, but Louis XIV persuaded England and Sweden to betray their alliance with Holland, and England united with France to invade the Dutch Republic in April 1672. During this period the young Prince William of Orange was increasingly gaining support and when de Witt’s older brother, Cornelius, was arrested in July 1672, de Witt resigned as political leader of Holland. When de Witt visited his brother in prison, both men were attacked and killed by a large crowd. Holland reverted back to a royalist state.

  GLOSSARY

  abba: Hebrew for ‘father’.

  alguacil: the sheriff of a Spanish municipality, executive officer of the courts and responsible for maintaining the security of the prison.

  anusim: Hebrew term for Jews forced to convert to Catholicism. (Anus: singular masculine; anusa: singular feminine.)

  Ashkenazim: Jews of Eastern Europe and Germany.

  auto-da-fé: The public declaration of the judgement passed on persons tried in the courts of the Spanish Inquisition, followed by the execution of the sentences imposed, including burning of heretics at the stake.

  Ba’al Shem: An expert at calling up demons.

  barras: A coarse linen fabric, sackcloth.

  barvell: A thick leather apron worn by workmen and fishermen.

  Beth Din: A rabbinical court with authority over communal ecclesiastical matters.

  boarhound: Predecessor to the Great Dane, originally known as the English hound, a cross between a mastiff and an Irish greyhound. Bred specifically for boar hunting and popular in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The last record of the breed was 1860.

  bombazine: A twilled fabric woven from silk and wool.

  brith: The Jewish ritual of circumcision.

  bruja: Spanish for ‘witch’.

  bürgermeister: Mayor.

  catalpha: A silk textile.

  cheder: Jewish primary school.

  cornet: Headdress in the shape of a coif, fitted at the back of the head with long flaps either side of the face.

  damassin: Brocade or damask fabric with gold or silver patterns woven into it.

  dornex: A fabric with a linen warp and wool weft, used for furnishings.

  ducape: A heavy corded silk.

  dybbuk: An evil spirit which has not been laid to rest.

  ferrandine: A fabric made of silk and wool.

  Gaffeln: Board of councillors particular to Cologne, made up of merchants from the city’s various guilds.

  gehenna: A place where the wicked are punished after death (Hell).

  golem: A giant man made from mud brought to life by supernatural means.

  hep: Ancient cry from the Latin meaning ‘Jerusalem has fallen’. Still heard in pogroms in the seventeenth century.

  Hevra Kadisha: Jewish society which looks after the burial of the dead.

  hongreline: Thigh-length overcoat with flared skirt.

  kammerhund: Chamber dog. An early breed of Great Dane favoured by the aristocracy.

  kittel: A white garment worn on important religious occasions. Sometimes used as a burial shroud.

  Lilith: The first wife of Adam. After being cast out of Eden she became queen of demons, seducer of men (conceiving her demon children through their nocturnal emissions) and killer of newborn babies by strangling them. Snwy, Snsnwy and Smnglf were the three angels sent by God to negotiate with Lilith when she was cast out of Eden. They threatened to kill a hundred of her sons every day unless she stopped strangling newborns. Lilith’s argument was that she had been created solely for this purpose but promised she would not harm a newborn if she should see the images of the three angels at the birthing, hence the use of the Three Angels amulet.

  limpieza de sangre: Literally, ‘purity of blood’; a term used to signify freedom from Semitic blood.

  lustring: A glossy silk cloth often used for petticoats.

  Magen David / Shield of David: A six-pointed
star formed by two equilateral triangles of equal size imposed upon one another. An amulet for protection in popular usage from thirteenth century onwards.

  mezuzah: Case containing parchment inscribed with religious texts and nailed above the front door of a house.

  mikvah: Ritual bathhouse for women.

  mohel: An expert in Jewish laws pertaining to circumcision and trained to carry out the procedure.

  musico: Bordello disguised as a theatre.

  paduasoy: A rich strong silk fabric used for vestments.