The Amber Witch | Page 2

so deeply marked, as to fill the attentive reader with
feelings of alternate horror and dismay, but the eternal and
unchangeable laws of human feeling and action are often arrested in a
manner so violent and unforeseen, that the understanding is entirely
baffled. For instance, one of the original trials which a friend of mine, a

lawyer, discovered in our province, contains the account of a mother,
who, after she had suffered the torture, and received the holy Sacrament,
and was on the point of going to the stake, so utterly lost all maternal
feeling, that her conscience obliged her to accuse as a witch her only
dearly-loved daughter, a girl of fifteen, against whom no one had ever
entertained a suspicion, in order, as she said, to save her poor soul. The
court, justly amazed at an event which probably has never since been
paralleled, caused the state of the mother's mind to be examined both
by clergymen and physicians, whose original testimonies are still
appended to the records, and are all highly favourable to her soundness
of mind. The unfortunate daughter, whose name was Elizabeth Hegel,
was actually executed on the strength of her mother's accusation.[2]
The explanation commonly received at the present day, that these
phenomena were produced by means of animal magnetism, is utterly
insufficient. How, for instance, could this account for the deeply
demoniacal nature of old Lizzie Kolken as exhibited in the following
pages? It is utterly incomprehensible, and perfectly explains why the
old pastor, notwithstanding the horrible deceits practised on him in the
person of his daughter, retained as firm a faith in the truth of witchcraft
as in that of the Gospel.
During the earlier centuries of the middle ages little was known of
witchcraft. The crime of magic, when it did occur, was leniently
punished. For instance, the Council of Ancyra (314) ordained the whole
punishment of witches to consist in expulsion from the Christian
community. The Visigoths punished them with stripes, and
Charlemagne, by advice of his bishops, confined them in prison until
such time as they should sincerely repent.[3] It was not until very soon
before the Reformation, that Innocent VIII. lamented that the
complaints of universal Christendom against the evil practices of these
women had become so general and so loud, that the most vigorous
measures must be taken against them; and towards the end of the year
1489, he caused the notorious Hammer for Witches (_Malleus
Maleficarum_) to be published, according to which proceedings were
set on foot with the most fanatical zeal, not only in Catholic, but,
strange to say, even in Protestant Christendom, which in other respects
abhorred everything belonging to Catholicism. Indeed, the Protestants
far outdid the Catholics in cruelty, until, among the latter, the

noble-minded Jesuit, J. Spee, and among the former, but not until
seventy years later, the excellent Thomasius, by degrees put a stop to
these horrors.
After careful examination into the nature and characteristics of
witchcraft, I soon perceived that among all these strange and often
romantic stories, not one surpassed my 'amber witch' in lively interest;
and I determined to throw her adventures into the form of a romance.
Fortunately, however, I was soon convinced that her story was already
in itself the most interesting of all romances; and that I should do far
better to leave it in its original antiquated form, omitting whatever
would be uninteresting to modern readers, or so universally known as
to need no repetition. I have therefore attempted, not indeed to supply
what is missing at the beginning and end, but to restore those leaves
which have been torn out of the middle, imitating, as accurately as I
was able, the language and manner of the old biographer, in order that
the difference between the original narrative and my own interpolations
might not be too evident.
This I have done with much trouble, and after many ineffectual
attempts; but I refrain from pointing out the particular passages which I
have supplied, so as not to disturb the historical interest of the greater
part of my readers. For modern criticism, which has now attained to a
degree of acuteness never before equalled, such a confession would be
entirely superfluous, as critics will easily distinguish the passages
where Pastor Schweidler speaks from those written by Pastor
Meinhold.
I am, nevertheless, bound to give the public some account of what I
have omitted, namely,--
1st. Such long prayers as were not very remarkable for Christian
unction.
2d. Well-known stories out of the Thirty Years' War.
3d. Signs and wonders in the heavens, which were seen here and there,
and which are recorded by other Pomeranian writers of these fearful
times; for instance, by Micraelius.[4] But when these events formed
part of the tale itself, as, for instance, the