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WORLD HISTORIES OF CRIME,
CULTURE AND VIOLENCE

Suicide by Proxy in
Early Modern Germany
Crime, Sin and Salvation
Kathy Stuart
World Histories of Crime, Culture and Violence

Series Editors
Marianna Muravyeva
University of Helsinki
Helsinki, Finland

Raisa Maria Toivo


Tampere University
Tampere, Finland
Palgrave’s World Histories of Crime, Culture and Violence seeks to publish
research monographs, collections of scholarly essays, multi-authored
books, and Palgrave Pivots addressing themes and issues of interdisciplinary
histories of crime, criminal justice, criminal policy, culture and violence
globally and on a wide chronological scale (from the ancient to the modern
period). It focuses on interdisciplinary studies, historically contextualized,
across various cultures and spaces employing a wide range of methodologies
and conceptual frameworks.
Kathy Stuart

Suicide by Proxy in
Early Modern
Germany
Crime, Sin and Salvation
Kathy Stuart
University of California, Davis
Davis, CA, USA

ISSN 2730-9630     ISSN 2730-9649 (electronic)


World Histories of Crime, Culture and Violence
ISBN 978-3-031-25243-3    ISBN 978-3-031-25244-0 (eBook)
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-25244-0

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer
Nature Switzerland AG 2023
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect
to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.
The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and
institutional affiliations.

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature
Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
For Louise
Acknowledgments

My friends and colleagues have been hearing about Suicide by Proxy for a
long time. Now years of research in two dozen archives and libraries across
Germany and Austria have culminated in this book. Throughout, I enjoyed
comradery and intellectual exchange with Duane Corpis, Allyson
Creasman, Alex Fisher, Helmut Graser, Mark Häberlein, Michaela
Schmölz-Häberlein, Christine Johnson, Hans-Jörg Künast, H. C. Erik
Midelfort, Beth Plummer, Ann Tlusty, and Wolfgang Meyer, members of
our longstanding Augsburg Archivstammtisch. Helmut Graser and Helmut
Zäh helped decipher fragmentary Latin passages.
Conversations with Ann Goldberg, David Luebke, Yair Mintzker, and
David Sabean also informed this project. Joel Harrington shared with me
transcriptions of two early suicides by proxy cases in Nuremberg, and
Martin Scheutz alerted me to cases of suicidal iconoclasm in Vienna’s
house of correction. I hashed out a chapter with James Melton and
Jonathan Strom at the James Allen Vann Seminar at Emory University.
Mary Lindemann helped navigate the Staatsarchiv Hamburg. My col-
leagues at the University of California, Davis, Ali Anooshahr, David Biale,
Corrie Decker, Edward Dickinson, Stacy Fahrenthold, Ellen Hartigan-
O’Connor, Bill Hagen, Katie Harris, Kyu Kim, Lisa Materson, Sally
McKee, Lorena Oropeza, Michael Saler, Daniel Stolzenberg, John
Smolenski, and Baki Tezcan provided community and intellectual sup-
port. A special shout-out to Corrie Decker, Ann Tlusty, and Hans-Jörg
Künast for their detailed feedback on the manuscript. Thank you also to
my students Molly Ingram, Hunter Kiley, Pilar Svendsen, Michael Wheeler,

vii
viii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

and Collin Wonnacott for their enthusiasm and engagement. A UC


President’s Fellowship and sabbatical leaves enabled me to conduct the
research for this book. Teaching a UC Davis Summer Abroad Program in
Vienna over several years enabled me to retrace the footsteps of some of
the Viennese murderous protagonists who feature in this book, my stu-
dents in tow.
I could not have written this book without the substantive support by
staff in numerous archives and libraries. The Wien Bibliothek stands out
for the helpfulness and efficiency of its staff. Special thanks also to Michaela
Laichmann and Andreas Weigl of the Wiener Stadt- und Landesarchiv,
Christoph Stöttinger of the Stiftarchiv Lambach, Gergor Gatscher-Riedl
of the Archiv der Marktgemeinde Perchtoldsdorf, and Josef Weichenberger
of the Oberösterreichisches Landesarchiv Linz. Helga Heist, intrepid
researcher of Upper Austrian history, was an invaluable guide. Wolfgang
Meyer and Edeltraud Prestel of the Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg,
Georg Feuerer of the Stadtarchiv Augsburg, and Wilfried Sponsel and
Susanne Faul of the Stadtarchiv Nördlingen helped me unearth obscure
sources and images. Emily Russell and Steven Fassioms, my editors at
Palgrave Macmillan, expertly guided this book through the publication
process.
I had the opportunity to present my research on “Suicide by Proxy” to
a national and even international audience thanks to an invitation by Ira
Glass to participate in an episode on “Loopholes” (#473) on his radio
show This American Life. Serendipitously, two Austrian filmmakers
Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala heard this broadcast. This led to a fruit-
ful and exciting collaboration over several years. They enlisted me as a
historical advisor for their forthcoming feature film, The Devil’s Bath (Des
Teufels Bad) (2023). The film’s protagonist, the fictional suicidal child
murderer Agnes Lizlfellnerin, is a composite of two historical child mur-
derers, Agnes Catherina Schickin (Württemberg, 1704) and Eva
Lizlfellnerin (Upper Austria, 1762), who both appear in the pages of
this book.
Thank you also to my non-historian friends Alain Belkaious, Elke
Berger, Louise Bierig, Anh Bui, Paul Eric Davis, Kristine Fowler, Jeannette
Heulin, Davis Krauter, Dominique Lambert, Jim Mavrikios, Regina and
Josef Merkinger, Cary Norsworthy, Frank Paré, and S. Rope Wolf. And, of
course, Louise Lanoue, my partner in life, to whom this book is dedicated.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ix

Over many years I subjected them to innumerable gruesome stories about


suicidal child murderers and host desecrators over drinks, dinners, and
walks. Their curiosity and engaging questions helped me figure out ways
to narrate, explain, and contextualize the horrific crimes committed by
suicidal perpetrators to a broader audience, to make the incomprehensible
comprehensible. That, at least, was my goal.
Portions of Chaps. 1 and 2 have been published in “Suicide by Proxy:
The Unintended Consequences of Public Executions in Eighteenth-­
Century Germany,” Central European History 41 (2008): 413–445.
Contents

1 Introduction  1

2 Liturgies of Suicide by Proxy 37

3 “Fear
 God and the Court, while there is still
Time.” Crime and Zealous Prosecution in Early
Modern Hamburg 91

4 “The
 Unbelievably Frequent Examples of such Murders
Committed solely out of Weariness with Life.”
Hamburg, 1668–1810139

5 Mary
 with the Axe: The Cult of the Injured Icon
in Baroque Vienna209

6 The
 Injured Crucifix: The Emperor’s Conscience
and Prisoners’ Defiance263

7 Crime
 and Justice in a Sacred Landscape: Vienna,
1668–1786329

xi
xii Contents

8 Conclusion:
 The Decline of Suicide by Proxy and its
Historical Effacement395

Bibliography407

Index449
Abbreviations

AFMV Acta facultatis medicae Vindobonensis


DAW Diözesanarchiv Wien
FÖWAH Fürstliches Oettingen-Wallersteinisches Archiv, Harburg
GNM Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg
HAB Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel
HMW Historisches Museum der Stadt Wien
HRG Handwörterbuch zur deutschen Rechtsgeschichte
HStAD Hauptstaatsarchiv Dresden
HStAS Hauptstaatsarchiv Stuttgart
ISG Institut für Stadtgeschichte Frankfurt
ÖNB Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna
OÖLA Oberösterreichisches Landesarchiv Linz
ÖWB Oettingen-Wallersteinische Bibliothek
StadtAN Stadtarchiv Nürnberg
StadtBN Stadtbibliothek Nürnberg
StAN Staatsarchiv Nürnberg
StiftAL Stiftsarchiv Lambach
SUBH Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg
SuStBA Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg
UAW Universitätsarchiv Wien
UBA Universitätsbibliothek Augsburg
WB Wien Bibliothek
WD Wiennerisches Diarium
WStLA Wiener Stadt- und Landesarchiv

xiii
List of Figures

Image 1.1 Christoph Murer, “Allegory of Good Government with


Innocence,” 1598. Stained glass, Nuremberg. Detail.
Museen der Stadt Nürnberg, Kunstsammlungen. Inv.-Nr.
33 (MM 295). Photo: Richard Krauss 3
Image 1.2 Christoph Murer, “Politia,” 1597. Stained glass,
Nuremberg, Detail. Nuremberg, Museen der Stadt
Nürnberg, Kunstsammlungen. Leihgabe des Freistaats
Bayern. Inv. Nr. 33 (MM 296). Photo Credits:
Kunstsammlungen der Stadt Nürnberg.
Photo: Richard Krauss 5
Image 1.3 Darstellung der Grausamen Mordthat der Maria Anna
Mayrinn ledig Stands 23. Jahr alt von Oberhausen. Munich:
[1783]. Engraving. StadtAA, Strafamt Nr. 162 10
Image 2.1 Urs Graf d. Ä. Richtstätte. Pen and ink drawing. 1512. The
ALBERTINA Museum, Vienna. Inv. Nr. 3050 39
Image 2.2 Hans Bützer’s petition to the Duke of Württemberg.
Hauptstaatsarchiv Stuttgart, A 209 Bü 166 50
Image 2.3 Roman soldier stabbing an Infant. Figurine in “Rinner
Krippe: Bethlehemitischer Kindermord.” Rinn in Tirol, c.
1760. Volkskunde Museum Wien, Vienna. Photo: Birgit &
Peter Kainz, facsimile digital. ÖMV/35.899 56
Image 2.4 Anderl von Rinn. Engraving, 1724. Volkskunde Museum
Wien, Vienna. ÖMV/34.467 61
Image 2.5 Knife. 1731. Stadtarchiv Nördlingen. R 39 F2 Fasc 9
Selbstmord, Ao 1731 78

xv
xvi List of Figures

Image 2.6 InfantICIDa aVgVstUs, Kunstsammlungen und Museen


Augsburg. Inv. Nr. G9740 86
Image 2.7 Die allhier in Augsburg Ao. 1740 d. 14. Martii von seinem
eignen Vatter grausam ermordete Unschuld Maria Magdalen
Bertzin…. Engraving. 1740. Staats- und Stadtbibliothek
Augsburg: Graph 29/120 87
Image 2.8 Hinrichtung der Maria Elisabetha Beckensteinerin…. 20
Martii 1742…. Engraving. 1740. Staats- und
Stadtbibliothek Augsburg: Graph 29/123 88
Image 3.1 “Van pynlikē sakē dat hogeste belangende.” Miniature.
Hamburg Stadtrecht, 1497. Hamburg Staatsarchiv, 111-1
Senat Cl. VII Lit. La Nr. 2 Vol. 1c, f. 250v 100
Image 3.2 “Hamburgum,” Map (Detail), in Georg Braun and Franz
Hogenberg, Civitates Orbis Terrarum, vol. 4. Cologne:
1588. Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg,
Signatur Kt H 202 112
Image 3.3 Execution of Cord Jastram and Hieronimus Schnitger,
1687. Engraving (Detail). “Außführung Cord Jastrams und
Hieronymi Schnitgers.” Hamburg Staatsarchiv, A 320/22 114
Image 4.1 “Method of Punishing the Idle at the Poor House at
Hamburgh.” 1778. Wellcome Collection 43268i 151
Image 4.2 Soldiers disciplined by riding “the wooden horse.”
Engraving. Hanns Friedrich von Fleming, Der Vollkommene
Teutsche Soldat (Leipzig: Johann Christian Martini, 1726),
184–185. ETH-Bibliothek Zürich, Rar 9315 153
Image 4.3 Frontispiece. Gerhard Hackmann, Catechismus-Schule:
Darinn Die Jugend in den Häuptstücken unserer wahren
Christlichen Religion/ …unterrichtet wird. Hamburg:
Werner, 1641. Forschungbibliothek Gotha, Signatur Theol
8° 00371/09 156
Image 4.4 Title page. Ausführlicher Bericht/ Derer in Hamburg
hingerichteten Missethäters ([Hamburg], c. 1720). Hamburg
Staatsarchiv, 111-1, Senat, CI.VII, Lit, Mb, No.3, Vol. 1 174
Image 5.1 Trinity Column, Vienna, 1693 (Detail). Photo by author 225
Image 5.2 Emperor Joseph I Venerates the Sacrament, 1701. Engraving
by Christoph Weigel (after Caspar Luyken). The ALBERTINA
Museum, Vienna. Historische Blätter Wien 8, Joseph I 227
List of Figures  xvii

Image 5.3 “Prospect des Grabens.” Engraving by Georg Daniel


Heumann after Salomon Kleiner, in Salomon Kleiner, Vera
Et Accurata Delineatio Omnium Templorum et Coenobiorum
Quae tam in Caesarea Urbe ac Sede Vienna Austriae, quam
in circumjacentibus Suburbys ejus reperiuntur. Vol. 2,
Abbildung der keysserl. Burg und Lust-Häuser. (Augsburg:
Johann Adreas Pfeffel, 1725), plate 99 230
Image 5.4 Devotional image of the Marian icon Maria Grünberg.
Engraving, early eighteenth century. Das wundertthaetige
Bildnis Maria bei den Franziskanern. Volkskunde Museum
Wien, Vienna. AÖMV13.888 234
Image 5.5 Maria Grünberg, or “Mary with the Axe”, Marian icon
above the high altar in the Franciskanerkircher, Vienna.
Photo by author 235
Image 5.6 Priest leads procession bringing last rites to dying
parishioner. “Prospect des Gräfflich Kaysersteinischen
Hauses” (Detail). Engraving by J. A. Corvinus after Sal.
Kleiner. In Salomon Kleiner, Vera Et Accurata Delineatio
Omnium Templorum et Coenobiorum Quae tam in Caesarea
Urbe ac Sede Vienna Austriae, quam in circumjacentibus
[circumiacentibus] Suburbijs [Suburbiis] ejus [eius]
reperiuntur. Vol 3. Das florirende vermehrte Wien.
(Augsburg: Johann Adreas Pfeffel, 1733), plate 211 240
Image 5.7 “Der aergerlicher Laesterer des Hochheiligsten
Sacraments.” Engraving. In Mathias Fuhrmann, Alt- und
Neues Wien, Oder Dieser Kayserlich- und Ertz-Lands-
Fürstlichen Residentz-Stadt Chronologisch- und Historische
Beschreibung. Vol. 2. (Vienna: Johann Baptist Prasser,
1739), with p. 807 244
Image 5.8 Eygentlicher Bericht/Was massen der getrauffte/ jedoch wider
vom Christenthumb abgefallene Jud/ zu Wien den 22.
Augusti 1642…verurtheilt/…wegen der grausamen
Gotteslästerung/… vollzogen worden. Photo: Wien Museum,
Gerichtswesen 1642, IN52093 M. 790 248
Image 5.9 Zerschneiden Zweymahl die Hl. Hostia… Kaberger-
Ketzerbilder, 18th century. Stiftarchiv Schlierbach, Image
10. Photo: OÖLKG/Ernst Grilnberger 256
Image 5.10 “Abbildung der wunderbaren H. Hostien zu Wolfsberg in
Kaernten.” Engraving. Volkskundemuseum Wien, Vienna,
AÖMV/13.808261
xviii List of Figures

Image 6.1 Jüdische neue Zeitung vom Marsch aus Wien… (s.l., s.d).
Vertreibung der Juden aus Wien 1670. Copperplate
Engraving. Photo: Wien Museum. In. Nr. 199198 265
Image 6.2 Emperor Leopold I’s signature under the imperial privilege
founding the house of correction, 1671. Wiener Stadt und
Landesarchiv, Hauptarchivsakten, Privilegien 77, f. 13 266
Image 6.3 Apotheosis of Emperor Leopold I. Frontispiece to 1671
imperial privilege authorizing the founding of the house of
correction. Wiener Stadt und Landesarchiv,
Hauptarchivsakten, Privilegien 77 267
Image 6.4 Vienna’s House of Correction. Water coloring, c. 1850.
Photo: Wien Museum. In. Nr. 15069, C. N. 231 (=
Leopoldgasse Nr. 32) (Das alte Zuchthaus) 272
Image 6.5 Execution of Catherina Jacobin, Vienna, 1769. Engraving.
In Todesurtheil einer ledigen Weibperson, Namens Catherina
J…. Wienbibliothek im Rathaus, C-39975/1769 283
Image 6.6 The ravenstone outside the Scottish Gate, c. 1760.
Anonymous Pen and Ink Drawing. The ALBERTINA
Museum, Inv. 7377, Ansichten (Vues) Wien, äussere
Bezirke 2: Das Hochgericht gegen die Rossau hin 294
Image 6.7 Drawing of instruments of execution included in court
records concerning Joseph Zeitler, executed 1719 in the
territory of the Benedictine Abbey of Lambach for church
robbery. Stiftarchiv Lambach, Criminalia 377, Joseph
Zeitler, 1719 304
Image 6.8 Nicolaus Starck’s signature under his Urfehde of 17
December 1756. Wiener Stadt und Landesarchiv,
Handschriften A 19, fol. 142r 309
Image 6.9 Depiction of blasphemy in Joos de Damhouder, Praxis
rerum criminalium: Gründlicher Bericht und anweisung,
Welcher massen in Rechtfärtigung Peinlicher sachen, nach
gemeynen beschribenen Rechten vor und in Gerichten
ordentlich zuhandeln (Franckfurt am Mayn: Johann Wolfius,
1571), 102v. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München, 4
Crim. 41 323
Image 6.10 Depiction of blasphemy in Joos de Damhouder, Praxis
rerum criminalium: Gründlicher Bericht und anweisung,
Welcher massen in Rechtfärtigung Peinlicher sachen, nach
gemeynen beschribenen Rechten vor und in Gerichten
ordentlich zuhandeln (Franckfurt am Mayn: Nicolaus
Basseus, 1581), 92. Staatliche Bibliothek Regensburg,
999/2 Jur.353. 324
List of Figures  xix

Image 7.1 Edict on Child Murders. “Wie es mit Bestrafung des


Kinder-Mords zu halten,” 22 March 1706. Archiv der
Marktgemeinde Perchtoldsdorf, Patente, Karton 344 339
Image 7.2 Anonymous photo of the “Wheel Cross” (Räderkreuz),
Column with Pieta adjacent to execution site on the
Wienerberg, taken 1868 prior to its demolition.
“Mariensäule an der Triesterstraße vor der
Matzleinsdorfer[linie] b[eim] Richtplatz.” Photo: Wien
Museum, Inv. Nr. 78.369/1, 10 341
Image 7.3 Parcel map showing execution sites on the Vienna
Mountain, c. 1730. Wiener Stadt- und Landesarchiv, Pläne
und Karten: Sammelband, P1, Pläne und Karten, 50,
Gegend vor der Martleinsdorfer Linie 343
Image 7.4 Execution of Catherina Jacobin, Vienna, 1769. Engraving.
In Todesurtheil einer ledigen Weibperson, Namens Catherina
J…. Wienbibliothek im Rathaus, C-39975/1769 349
Image 7.5 Frontispiece, in “Verzeichnis deren von einer Hochlöblichen
Privilegierten Kays. Königl. Todtenbruderschaft
übernohmenen Malleficanten.” Wienbibliothek im Rathaus,
HIN-19008362
Image 7.6 Frontispiece, in Probatica Piscina del Purgatorio Situata Fra
Li Sacri Monti Austriaci (Vienna: Maria Rittia Vedova,
1638). National Library of the Czech Republic, Prague,
Shelf Mark 36 E 000081 365
Image 7.7 Execution Procession departing from Vienna’s prison,
Engraving by Johann August Corvinus after Salomon
Kleiner, in Salomon Kleiner, Vera Et Accurata Delineatio
Omnium Templorum et Coenobiorum Quae tam in Caesarea
Urbe ac Sede Vienna Austriae, quam in circumjacentibus
Suburbys ejus reperiuntur, vol. 1. (Augsburg: Johann Adreas
Pfeffel, 1724), plate 41 373
Image 7.8 “Wahrhafte Bildnuß Francisci Nadasti wegen
aufrührerischem Meineid in dem Rathaus zu Wien enthaupt
den 30. April 1671.” Engraving (Detail). Photo: Wien
Museum. Inv. Nr. 37988 378
xx List of Figures

Image 7.9 Procession of a Confraternity. “Prospect des Hoch-Gräffl.


Traunischen Gebäudes in der Herren-Gassen.” Engraving
by J. A. Corvinus after Sal. Kleiner. In Salomon Kleiner,
Vera Et Accurata Delineatio Omnium Templorum et
Coenobiorum Quae tam in Caesarea Urbe ac Sede Vienna
Austriae, quam in circumjacentibus [circumiacentibus]
Suburbijs [Suburbiis] ejus [eius] reperiuntur. Vol 3. Das
florirende vermehrte Wien. (Augsburg: Johann Adreas
Pfeffel, 1733), plate 202 380
Image 7.10 The Poor Sinners’ Graveyard. “Prospect des Bürgerl.
Hospitals-Gotts-Acker nebst der Capelle St. Rochi, vor dem
Kärnter Thor. a. S. Caroli Borromaei Kirche.” Engraving by
J. A. Corvinus after Sal. Kleiner. In Salomon Kleiner, Vera
Et Accurata Delineatio Omnium Templorum et Coenobiorum
Quae tam in Caesarea Urbe ac Sede Vienna Austriae, quam
in circumjacentibus [circumiacentibus] Suburbijs [Suburbiis]
ejus [eius] reperiuntur. Vol. 4. Des florirenden vermehrten
Wiens fernere Befolgung. Plate 47 382
CHAPTER 1

Introduction

In 1598 the Swiss artist Christoph Murer completed a stained-glass win-


dow for the city hall of the Lutheran free imperial city of Nuremberg. An
allegory of good government, it was one in a cycle of four windows com-
missioned by Nuremberg’s patrician city councilors. This window and its
companion pieces fell within the genre of “Images of Justice” that hung in
court rooms and city council chambers throughout Europe. City govern-
ments commissioned the art works and set the iconographical program to
communicate their ideology of governance.1 Murer’s windows expressed
the self-image of Nuremberg councilmen as benevolent and vigilant city
fathers and protectors of the innocent. The 1598 window centers on a
naked, golden-haired, baby boy chained to a marble slab, resembling a
sacrificial altar.2 The boy, a personification of Innocence, is under threat by
a knife-wielding Jew to his left, clearly identified by the circular badge on
his shoulder. This was the yellow circle, the traditional stigma symbol Jews
were required to wear since the late Middle Ages. To the baby’s right is an

1
Katja Sperling, “Christoph Murers Glasgemälde für den Rat und für Patrizierfamilien der
Stadt Nürnberg.” (Master’s thesis, Friedrich-Alexander-Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg,
1991), 61. On “Images of Justice,” see Wolfgang Schild, “Gerechtigkeitsbilder,” in Recht
und Gerechtigkeit im Spiegel der europäischen Kunst, eds. Wolfgang Pleister and Wolfgang
Schild (Cologne: DuMont Buchverlag, 1988), 86-171.
2
Charles Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft: Print and Visual Culture in sixteenth-century
Europe (London: Routledge, 2007), 233.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 1


Switzerland AG 2023
K. Stuart, Suicide by Proxy in Early Modern Germany, World
Histories of Crime, Culture and Violence,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-25244-0_1
2 K. STUART

old hag, the stereotypical witch, topless, her withered breasts sagging, her
unkempt hair hanging freely. The witch grabs the child by the hair, hold-
ing him prone for the Jew’s knife. Behind the witch, a soldier thrusts his
halberd toward the child. These are the vices of avarice (the Jew), envy
(the witch), and war (the soldier). The Jew represented more than avarice,
of course. To any early modern viewer, the Jew with a knife evoked the
specter of Jewish ritual murder. This was an iconography with which
Murer’s Nuremberg patrons were thoroughly familiar. Perhaps the most
iconic representation of Jewish ritual murder ever created was produced in
Nuremberg just over a century earlier. Schedel’s World Chronicle, pub-
lished 1493, includes a richly detailed image of the alleged martyrdom of
Simon of Trent in 1475, the case after which all subsequent accusations of
Jewish ritual murder were modeled.3
Murer’s work portrays an infernal alliance between the blood-thirsty
Jew and the child-murdering witch. Behind the aggressors to the left, a
crowned figure, a negligent king, shirks his responsibility as ruler by cover-
ing his eyes so as not to see the horrible scene unfolding before him. He
too will be held to account for his dereliction of duty. Truth thrones above
this scene. She holds a book with the words “The Word of God endures
forever” (Isaiah 40:8), the bible verse that became the logo of the
Protestant Reformation.4 This was a declaration of Nuremberg’s Lutheran
identity. Truth is assisted by Justice, sword, scales and orb in hand, and by
Peace, who stand to the left and right of the city’s coat of arms. The
virtues collectively represent the wise governance of Nuremberg’s city

3
Hartmut Schedel, Weltchronik (Nuremberg: Anton Koberger, 1493), fol. 254r. This
image can be viewed in high resolution in color, digitized at the Germanisches
Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg: http://dlib.gnm.de/item/2Inc266/568/html. On the
paradigmatic significance of the Simon of Trent case, see Magda Teter, Blood Libel: On the
Trail of an Antisemitic Myth (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2020), 43-151.
Wolfgang Treue, Der Trienter Judenprozess: Voraussetzungen, Abläufe, Auswirkungen
(1475-1588) (Hannover: Hahn, 1996). R. Po-Chia Hsia, Trent 1475: Stories of a Ritual
Murder Trial (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1992).
4
F. J. Stopp, “Verbum Domini Manet in Aeternum. The Dissemination of a Reformation
Slogan, 1522-1904,” in Essays in German Culture and Society, eds. Siegbert S. Prawer,
R. Hinton Thomas and Leonard Forster (London: Institute of Germanic Studies, 1969),
123-235.
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"But Mike isn't coming back again," said Jack; "he's
going to stay in Calvington all day at his aunt's; aren't you,
Mike? And so you'd just have to toil these weary miles back
again in the heat and dust. Don't be a fool now, Peter!"

I did not like being called a fool, and so, although my


conscience told me I was doing wrong, I handed my letter
to Mike, and he drove away.

"Now come along with me, Peter," said Jack, when Mike
had disappeared round a turning in the road.

"Come where?" I asked.

"Down to the sea," said Jack; "we can be there in three


minutes across this field."

"Oh, no," I said. "I must go home now."

"Nonsense about going home!" he said. "That's the very


thing you mustn't do! Your mistress will soon smell a rat if
you go home now. She'll want to know why you've been so
quick, and then it will all come out. Let us see, if you
walked to Calvington, you could not be back here before
two o'clock at the earliest; so we've two hours and a half, at
least, to enjoy ourselves. I'll take you to the Robber's Cave.
You've never seen it, have you?"

"No, never," I said. "I should like to see it very much;


but I think I ought to go back."

"Don't be such a stupid!" said Jack, as he sprang over


the stile which led into the field.

I knew I was doing wrong, and yet I followed him, for—


I am ashamed to say—I was afraid of him. I could not bear
to be laughed at, or to be called a fool or a stupid, so I did
what my conscience told me, again and again, that I ought
not to do.

Yet for a time all seemed very pleasant. I told


conscience to be quiet, and made up my mind to enjoy
myself till two o'clock.

It was cool and pleasant by the sea, and we had a


bathe, and then we climbed along the cliff to the Robber's
Cave. It was a very curious place, and we examined every
nook and corner of it, and we sat inside it for some time, for
it was so pleasant and refreshing to get out of the glare and
heat of the sun.

But while we were sitting down in the cave talking and


laughing we suddenly heard a rumble of distant thunder.

"It seems to be a storm coming up," said Jack; "let's


climb up and see."

The sky was wonderfully changed since we went into


the cave about half an hour before; it was quite black now,
and the birds flew about wildly in all directions.

We climbed down from the cave, and picked our way


along the shore over the rough rocks and shingles, until we
came to the pathway leading up to the top of the cliffs. As
we went along, the storm increased; and by the time we
reached this path it had begun to rain.

"We shall have a pelter in a minute," said Jack; "let's


run for it."

We went at a tremendous pace up the cliff, and then


tore across the field, for the rain was coming down very fast
now. We did not stop to breathe till we had rushed through
the open door of a public-house which stood on the road,
about a hundred yards from the path leading down to the
sea.

"Now," said Jack, "we're all right; that was well done!
But we're only just in time," he said, as there came a vivid
flash of lightning, a loud clap of thunder, and a tremendous
downpour of rain.

"What will you drink, Peter?" he said. "Whiskey or


beer?"

"Nothing, thank you," I said; "I never take anything of


the kind."

"Oh, rubbish," he said; "you must drink something. Now


you've come to take shelter here, for the good of the house
you couldn't be so mean as to come in and to take nothing."

A third time conscience raised her warning voice, and a


third time I would not listen to her, and for the very same
reason—because I was a coward, afraid to do that which I
knew was right.

"Two for whiskey," said Jack to the landlord, as he


opened the door of the little inn parlor.
CHAPTER X.
THE STORM.

WE were sitting with our glasses in our hands, and Jack


was making all sorts of absurd speeches, and was proposing
my health, and the landlord's health, and the health of the
rest of the company in the room, when there came art
unusually bright flash of lightning, which made us all start,
followed immediately by a peal of thunder, which sounded
as if the house were falling over our heads.

"Good gracious!" said Jack. "That was a whacker! I shall


have to drink Mr. Thunder's health next!"

But I could not join in the laugh with which he followed


this silly speech. That flash of lightning had made me think
of the storm on the night of Salome's fifth birthday; and
with the thought of the storm came the remembrance of
Salome's text:

"One shall be taken, and the other left," and of


Salome's sorrowful words, as she clung to me that night:

"You mustn't be left, Peter; they must take you too!"

Then I thought of the first rule on my card: "Do nothing


that you would not like to be doing when Jesus comes." I
certainly should not like to be sitting drinking whiskey and
neglecting my duty, as I was doing then.

I thought of the second rule on my card: "Go to no


place where you would not like to be found when Jesus
comes." I certainly should not like to be found in this public-
house, and in the company of the idle drinking fellows with
whom the room was filled.

I thought of the third rule on my card: "Say nothing


that you would not like to be saying when Jesus comes."
There were a great many silly and foolish things I had said
since I came into that place which I should not like to have
been saying if that flash of lightning had been the flash of
glory at the appearing of the Lord Jesus Christ. What if He
were really to come while I was there!

I felt very much afraid, and Jack told me I was as glum


as an old sulky owl. I was very glad when the rain was over,
and I could get outside again. Then I bid Jack good-day,
and hurried home as fast as I could.

I took off my tidy clothes, and went at once into the


stable to clean and polish the harness. I kept an anxious
eye on the road all the afternoon, hoping to see the doctor's
carriage on its way to the house. But the hours went by,
and tea-time came, and he had not arrived.

"Master Reggie has got a bad turn, he has," said Bagot


to his wife; "it's going to be croup, our lady thinks. I wish
that doctor would look sharp; I do indeed."

But time still went on, and no doctor appeared. Could


Mike have delivered my letter, or was it possible that he had
forgotten it? I got more and more anxious every moment.
At last I could bear it no longer, and I did what I ought
to have done long before—I told the whole story to Bagot. I
did not omit to tell him of the storm, and how it had
reminded me of the three forgotten rules.

"Ay, Peter, my lad," he said, "it's a sad tale, that is; but
I'm glad you've made a clean breast of it, I am, and I'm
very thankful the Lord didn't come to-day and find you
wandering out of His ways. I'll step across and tell our lady,
and see what she thinks had best be done."

"Wait a minute, Bagot," I said; "tell her I've gone off


now to see if the doctor has got the letter. I will start at
once, and go as quick as ever I can."

"Get a bit of supper first, my lad," said Bagot, kindly.

But I would not hear of waiting a moment, and I set off


at a running pace towards Calvington. Of course I could not
keep this up long, and it seemed a long way; but the air
was cooler than in the morning, which was a great help to
me.

It must have been about ten o'clock when I reached the


doctor's house. His gig was standing at the door, and the
doctor came out and jumped into it as I came up. He was
just setting off for Grassbourne. He had only received my
mistress's letter a few minutes before. The careless Mike
had dropped it on the road, and some one had picked it up
and brought it to the doctor's house.

I told him how ill Master Reggie was, and that my


mistress thought that he was going to have croup; and he
ran back into his surgery to get several things that might be
wanted, and then drove off at a tremendous pace towards
Grassbourne.
I went home more slowly than I had come, and it was
near midnight when I reached the avenue gate. To my
surprise, I found Bagot standing there, leaning against the
gate, as if he were waiting for me. He was very kind to me
—more kind than I deserved, I thought; but he seemed
very downcast.

"Is he worse, Bagot?" I asked.

"No, he's a wee bit better, he is," said Bagot. "The


doctor is going to stay till morning, though. I've been
helping his man to take the horse out, I have."

He took me in, and Mrs. Bagot was still up, and had a
good supper ready for me on the table. She, too, was more
kind to me than ever; but neither of them spoke much while
I was eating my supper.

As soon as I had finished, Bagot said, taking an


envelope from his pocket—"Shall I give it him now, old
wife?"

"Yes, Jem," she said, "now that he's had his supper, you
had best let him read it."

Bagot handed me a telegram, and I read as follows:


"Salome is very ill indeed, and cries for you. Can you be
spared to come and see her?"

I sat looking at it for a long time without speaking.

Then Bagot said, "Poor lad, I'm awful sorry for you, I
am; but cheer up—maybe she'll be better soon."

"Can I go, do you think, Bagot?" I said.


"Yes, I'm sure you may," he said. "Run over with the
letter to the house, and ask to speak a word with our lady.
They're all sitting up with the child."

I went as he advised me, and the cook gave me a jug of


hot water to carry, which was wanted upstairs, and I took it
as quietly as I could into the sickroom.

I TOOK IT AS QUIETLY AS I COULD INTO THE SICK-ROOM.

Master Reggie was in great pain, gasping for breath,


and the doctor and his mother and the nurse were standing
round him, doing all they could to help him. He saw me
come in, and smiled, and tried to speak, but I could not tell
what he said.

My mistress followed me out of the room.


"Can you ever forgive me, ma'am?" I said.

"I do forgive you, Peter," she answered, "for I know how


sorry you are. And I think—I hope—it would not have made
much difference if the doctor had been here before, for he
says that I had done all that could have been done before
he came."

Then I handed her the telegram, and tears came in her


eyes as she read it, for I had told her about Salome, and
she knew how much I loved her.

"Trouble everywhere, Peter," she said. "Yes, you may


go, and you may stay a few days if you can be of any use."

I thanked her very much, and she crept into the room
again.

We did not go to bed for a long time after that. We sat


round the kitchen fire, and Bagot stepped over to the house
every half-hour to ask in the kitchen how the child was; and
it was not until he brought us word that Master Reggie was
asleep, and that the doctor said all danger was over for the
present, and that he was preparing to go home, that we
could make up our minds to go upstairs.

I had a very short night, for the train started at eight


o'clock, and I had to walk to the station.

When I arrived at home, I went at once upstairs to


Salome's room, and I found my mother, looking very worn
and tired, watching beside her. Salome seemed to be quite
unconscious; she did not know me when I went in, though
my mother said she had called for me many times in the
night. She was talking wildly and strangely, and I thought
she looked very ill indeed. My mother said she did not know
what was the matter with her; she had been ill now for
some days, and every day she grew worse.

The doctor came soon after I arrived, and my mother


went downstairs with him, and left me with Salome. When
she came back, she said—

"Peter, it's a bad job; we oughtn't ever to have sent for


you; the doctor says he is pretty certain now that it's scarlet
fever, which hasn't come out properly. Whatever shall we
do?"

And my poor mother burst into tears.

CHAPTER XI.
A TERRIBLE TIME.
OF course my going back to Grassbourne, to carry the
infection with me, was out of the question. I wrote to my
mistress, and told her the state of the case, and then I was
able to relieve my poor mother very much, by taking entire
charge of Salome.

She was very ill, and as the days went by she grew
worse. The doctor was proved right in his opinion of the
complaint, for the very day after I arrived Bartholomew and
Jude were both taken ill with the fever, and two days after
that Thomas fell ill, and about a week after, Matthew and
Simon were also smitten.

It was a terrible time. As I look back upon it now, I


wonder how we ever bore up as we did. We had six of them
ill at once, so ill that the doctor shook his head each time
he saw them, and said he was afraid they would none of
them pull through. My poor mother was up night and day,
going from one bed to another with a white and anxious
face.

My father said little, as was his nature under all


circumstances, but he felt it deeply. He would wander about
the house sighing loudly, and would stand beside the doors
of the two sick-rooms for hours together, that he might be
at hand to fetch or to carry anything, or to help us in any
way he could. He felt it all the more, I think, from his
having so little to do. He was a very honorable man, and he
made no secret of our having the fever in the house. As
soon as the doctor had told him that it was a case of
malignant scarlet fever, he had let all his customers know,
for he thought that concealment in such a case was both
cruel and wicked.

So few came to the shop, and the till was very empty
during that time of sorrow.
I had much time for thought during the weeks which
followed. As I was sitting up at night, watching beside
Salome and Jude and Simon, my mind was very busy, and
my heart was very much troubled. And yet I could not pray.
I felt as if there were a great wall between me and God,
and if I tried to pray, the words seemed to come back to
me, as if they could not pierce the separating wall. It was
my sin which had come between me and my Master. I knew
that well enough, and I was very miserable when I thought
of it.

But one night I took up Salome's Testament, the one I


had given her on her fifth birthday, which was lying on a
table near her bed. I opened it to see if I could get any
word of comfort, and my eyes fell upon these words:

"The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter."

If an angel had said them to me, they could not have


seemed to come more direct from heaven.

I had sinned against my Lord, the Lord who had loved


me so much, yet now He was turning His face not away
from me, but towards me; He was looking at me, not with
anger, nor with scorn, but with tender, sorrowful love. Oh!
How could I ever grieve such a Master as that. Like Peter in
the Gospels, as I sat in that quiet sickroom, I wept bitterly.

And then came comfort; I could pray now. That look of


the Lord Jesus had taken away the wall. I could call on Him
now and ask Him to forgive me, and never to let me leave
Him again.

If I had not come back to the Lord Jesus that night, and
had the comfort of feeling His presence very near me, I do
not know how I should have gone through the next terrible
week. Sickness and sorrow had been in our home before;
but now the angel of death drew near.

I had felt sure from the very first that Salome would
die. She seemed to me so unlike every one else, and so fit
for heaven, that I had no doubt whatever in my own mind
that the Master's voice would call her to Himself.

"'One shall be taken, and the other left,'" I said to


myself over and over again, as I sat beside her at night,
"Salome taken—Peter left."

Even the sound of her breathing seemed to be saying


the same words to me in the dark, silent night. "'One taken,
another left; one taken, another left.'" And the steps of the
passers-by in the street, when morning dawned, echoed the
same words, "'One taken, another left.'"

But the words were to come true in a different way from


what I had expected.

CHAPTER XII.
SALOME'S RECOVERY.

IT was the night on which Salome seemed most ill;


indeed, her face looked so altered and strange, that I
thought every breath might be her last. I felt sure that the
angel of death was in the room that night.

He was in the room, but it was not for Salome that he


had come. Little Jude was taken, and Salome was left. And
two days afterwards the angel of death came again, and
Bartholomew was taken; and then after a few more days,
Simon and Thomas were taken, and still Salome was left.
But the doctor still would give very little hope; she might
pull through, he said, but he did not think it was likely that
she would.

That was a terrible time for us all.

It was a terrible time for my poor father, for he loved


his children very deeply, and after he and I had followed
one little coffin after another to the grave, he would come
home and sit for hours with his head resting on his hands,
not speaking a word, but full of sorrowful thought.

It was a terrible time for my poor mother. I felt sure she


would be ill when it was all over. She had cried bitterly when
little Jude was taken; but after that she seemed as if she
could not cry, as if her tears were locked up, and as if she
were doing everything she did in her sleep. Indeed, I
believe it seemed to her more like an awful dream than a
real trouble.

Poor father and mother, they had no heavenly


comforter; the Lord was not at that time their Friend and
their Saviour! But this very sorrow, which seemed the worst
thing which could have happened to us, was to be used by
God to bring them to Himself.

One night—I think it was the night after Simon and


Thomas had been laid in the grave—we were sitting in
Salome's room. She was conscious now, and the fever had
quite left her; but she was very weak—so weak that I was
afraid to let her talk; so weak that she was as helpless as a
little baby. Matthew was much better; he had not had the
fever so badly as the others, and he was sitting up in bed.

"There seems nothing to do," said mother that night, as


she sat by the fire in her black dress; and for the very first
time since little Jude had died she burst into tears.

I knew it would do her good to cry, so I did not stop her,


but I laid my head on her shoulder, and we cried together,
and my father, who was sitting near Salome's bed, groaned
aloud.

We sat in silence for a long time, and we thought


Salome was asleep, for she had her eyes shut, but she
suddenly opened them, and said:

"Read a bit, please, dear Peter."

I took up her Testament and read aloud:

"The Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a


shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump
of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:

"Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up


together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the
air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

"Wherefore comfort one another with these words."


"Don't you wish Jesus would come to-night, father," said
Salome, "and bring Simon, and Thomas, and Bartholomew,
and Jude with Him? We would all go flying up to meet them
then; wouldn't we, father?"

My father did not speak; but he took hold of Salome's


thin hand and kissed it.

"She's always talking about that, Peter," said my


mother. "Ever since you gave her that Testament, her head
has been running on that.

"'Mother,' she says, 'would the angels take you?'

"'Jude,' she says, 'would you be taken, or left?'

"'Thomas,' she says, 'wouldn't it be nice if Jesus came


to-day?'

"And the boys listened to her wonderful; they did,


indeed. Simon, he talked a deal about it just before he died,
and about his sins being washed away. I don't know much
about it," said poor mother, crying more than ever; "I've
toiled, and worked, and slaved to get you food and clothes,
and to keep you clean and decent. But I haven't thought
about these things as I should, and it seems to me, if the
Lord was to come, the angels would be carrying you all
away, and leaving me behind."

"And me!" said father, with another groan.

"Oh, no!" said little Salome, with all the strength she
had. "Father and mother must come, too; mustn't they,
Peter? Kneel down and ask Jesus to wash their sins away,
and then He won't forget to send the angels for them when
He comes in the sky."
So I knelt down and said a very simple little prayer; and
when I rose from my knees both my father and mother
were crying.

They said nothing more then, but I have every reason


to believe that they did indeed come to the Lord Jesus as
their Saviour that very night, and that, from that time, both
father and mother loved and served the Lord Jesus, and
longed for His appearing, feeling sure that in that great day
they would be taken, and not left.

CHAPTER XIII.
GREAT SORROW.

SALOME grew stronger every day, and the doctor was


astonished at her recovery.
How good God has been to spare her to me! I said to
myself again and again. It seemed almost like getting her
back from the dead.

But just as things at home grew a little brighter, and I


was rejoicing over Salome's first going downstairs, I got a
letter from Bagot, which filled me with sorrow and grief. For
it told me that little Master Reggie, whom we all loved so
dearly, had been taken away from us. The Master had
come, and had called for him, and the child had heard His
voice, and had gladly hastened to meet Him. It was another
severe attack of croup which had carried him off, and a few
hours after he was taken ill, the call had come.

Bagot wrote in great distress, and he said my poor


mistress was very ill, and very much broken down. She
wished him to say that she would be glad if I could come
back whenever the doctor thought it was safe for me to do
so. She sent me her kindest sympathy in my trouble, and
she wished me to tell my poor mother how often she had
thought of her, and had prayed that the Lord would be her
Comforter.

I felt leaving home very much, for they all seemed to


cling to me and to lean on me after that time of sorrow. My
father had aged a great deal, and had turned in a few
weeks into an elderly man.

My poor mother said over and over again that she had
nothing to do.

"Oh, Peter," she said one day, "I used to grumble, and
to think I had a hard time of it, with so many to cook for,
and so many clothes to mend, and so many stockings to
darn, and such lots of things to wash and to iron, and so
much to see after. But now, God knows, I would give all I
have to have one of those busy days back again. I didn't
know, till they were gone, how much I should miss them all.
God forgive me if I ever grumbled at having to work for
them!"

It was a very different home now—so quiet and still,


with so many empty beds and silent rooms, with so much
space at the large dinner-table, which used to be so well
filled, with so many vacant chairs, and with a row of caps
hanging on the pegs in the passage, which were never
taken down from their places, but which mother seemed as
if she could not take away. Every one who came to the
house must have noticed the difference in our once merry,
noisy home.

Yet it was a different home in another way, for now both


father and mother were leading their children in the way to
heaven.

It was a great effort to my father to open the Bible and


begin family prayer, but he made it. It was a great effort for
my mother to put on her bonnet, and, in the face of
astonished neighbors, to go to church again, but she made
it. And when I left them, I had the joy of knowing that
whenever the cry was heard:

"Behold the Bridegroom cometh: go ye out to meet


Him!"

We should, as a family, be all ready to obey the


summons; for in that great day when the King shall gather
together His own, every one of us would be taken—none of
us would be left behind.

I went to Calvington by the early train, and walked from


the station to Grassbourne. Mrs. Bagot gave me a warm
welcome when I arrived at the cottage.
"I'm glad to see you, my lad," she said; "I am, indeed.
The master and me have been awful lonesome without you,
we have, indeed. What with our lady's trouble, and the loss
of that dear boy, we've been very dull and low altogether."

She told me I should find Bagot in the garden, and I


went to look for him.

I MET MY MISTRESS COMING OUT OF THE HOUSE.

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