Sylvia (21 page)

‘And so they amended the proposition to allow some insects to be spared. The pretty butterfly in particular. Then, of course, the geese and ducks and chickens raised a last-minute objection and insisted that the words “birds of the air” be changed to “all the birds”. “We birds who do not care to fly, who honk and quack and cackle and teach our young to cheep, are also worthy of our keep!” they honked and quacked and cackled most indignantly.

‘And so as quick as an egg may be laid, a second amendment was duly made. And thus it was that they all finally agreed to return.'

I stood and addressed the children. ‘Now would you like to see how it was when the birds returned?' I asked.

In one accord they shouted that they would. So I walked to the centre of where they all sat and cautioned them to be quiet as mice and then I began to call. The blue jay, always inquisitive, was the first to arrive and sit upon my shoulder. Then a chattering magpie came and landed upon my outstretched hand. As each mating call went out, birds of lovely twittering, raucous chatter, soft cooing, sharp tapping, hooting, chirping, warbling, piping, clacking, trilling, tweeting, cackling and screeching, even the mournful cawing crow came flying in to share in this tumultuous and most glorious din. I saved to beckon the raven, for its appearance is said to bring ill fortune, though I doubt this true, even though it is a sooty-black and beady bird and its cawing can be often heard. Then to complete the glory of the coming of the birds, I sent out the mating call of the nightingale. Now hundreds of birds sat upon the shoulders, hands and heads of every street child but none upon Frau Sarah who looked somewhat forlorn. Then last of all, two nightingales came to flutter above and then to land upon her outstretched hands and then to sing the song of the rising sun and the coming of the dawn.

After I had sent the birds away to brighten up this lovely day, I asked Nicholas if he would persuade the children to leave. ‘We will tell folk to come this afternoon, Fräulein Petticoat,' he promised.

And so the children left to find a way to break their fast, as children hate to delay a rumbling stomach. Frau Sarah sat silently a while upon the rock. Finally she spoke. ‘Sylvia, I have today witnessed a miracle and I am a Jew and do not believe in such phantasmagoria. Now I well see how you learned to sing such notes with glorious clarity and pitch. But the calling of birds confounds me. Whether a Christian or Jew, it is a God-sent gift.'

‘Nay, I told thee once before, there is a natural cause – their mating call cannot be resisted,' I protested. But I could see she did not believe me and thought it modesty or a way I had to deny my power so that she refrained from questioning me too closely. And so I learned the Jew is just as superstitious as we Christian folk. And that all the world would rather have a great wonder than a simple explanation.

Much to my dismay Frau Sarah now declared, ‘Sylvia, methinks thou art a
wunderkind
. I am not sure that what is planned for you in a
winkelhaus
is in thy best endeavour. What is it that I might better do for thee?'

‘Oh, nay, Frau Sarah! I love to sing and I will do my best to please you,' I cried.

‘Is that then enough for thee?'

I had never been asked such a question and knew not how I might answer her. ‘Frau Sarah, I hunger to learn,' I said at last, ‘to read and then to write in Latin. Alas, I am a peasant and have been told by the priest that it is written that God has made me as I am and that I must be content with my lot. Learning, the Holy Church has proclaimed, is not for such as me – my peasant sensibility and reason cannot tolerate it and I will find myself confounded with every conundrum and so will end in madness. If this be true, then I pray to God that he expunge my name from this Holy writ and grant me His precious gift of knowledge.'

‘Latin, not German? You wish to be a scholar?'

‘Aye, there is much I ask myself about God's word and think perchance the answers have been written down in Latin.'

‘Aye, so they might, but they were writ in Hebrew first.'

‘Nay, in Latin! I must learn the language of God's Holy Word and that is most
definitely
in Latin!' I insisted.

‘Sylvia, God's word was first writ in Hebrew and thereafter Greek and then it was translated into Latin.'

‘Are you sure?' I asked, confused, thinking she must surely be wrong.
How might a Jewess know such a thing
? I asked myself.

‘Aye, my husband Israel is a scholar of all three, Hebrew, Greek and Latin, and speaks as well the Arabian tongue, for he was born and raised in Jerusalem where all are needed.'

I could not believe my ears. ‘Frau Sarah, if it is discovered that God has granted me permission to learn, will Master Israel teach me Latin?'

‘I will ask him, but I cannot say how he will feel about teaching you.'

‘Why? Because I am a Christian?'

‘Nay, because you are a woman.'

It was the same reply as the ratcatcher had given me. ‘But will you ask him, please, Frau Sarah?' I begged.

‘Of course.'

‘But what if I should fail him?'

Frau Sarah laughed. ‘Then, as you say, it will be God's will. But I would be most surprised if God doth not grant thee permission to learn, Sylvia. Do you play chess?' she asked suddenly.

‘Nay, “six, two and one” is the only game I know, it is played with dice,' I explained.

‘He will teach you chess and if you prove a sprightly opponent, quick to grasp the game and show a natural cunning and a love to conquer him, then I feel sure he will agree to teach you Latin.'

‘But he is a male and you have said he must not be seen to be conquered?'

She laughed her merry laugh. ‘You are a quick learner, Sylvia, but chess has no gender.'

‘Perhaps I shall fail, I know little of games.'

‘Aye, to a Jew chess is not just a game. It is the very game of life. If you fail, then you must accept, once again, it may be God's will.'

I was constantly surprised that she so often talked of God as if He was to her, a Jew, as close as He was to me, a Christian. Had I not been taught by the priest that Jews were Christ killers? If this were so, why then did they worship the same God the Father but crucified His son? It was to this kind of question I longed to find the answer. ‘Has Master Israel taught thee to play chess?'

‘Nay, I have not felt the need and am, besides, not gifted.' She held up both her hands. ‘Perhaps a small gift with these and another with herbs. Israel says I am nimble with needle and thread and I can count and write numbers and add and subtract and multiply, so I do the business and that is as well. Israel is a fine tailor and a scholar, but does not much care for numbers and has a muddled head for money.'

I did not think that it might be possible to find a Jew who did not care about money. ‘Are all Jewish tailors also scholars?' I asked.

‘Nay, but every Jew may study to be one. It is our tradition. Knowledge, we are taught, is power, and ignorance enslavement. Here in Cologne we have a great rabbinical teacher, Rabbi Brasch the Good. He would have every Jewish boy a scholar.'

‘And female?'

‘Alas, no. It is not forbidden to a woman to have knowledge. In our past there has also been many a wise prophetess, but women may not be taught with men in the synagogue and it is there that knowledge is given out.'

‘Then how shall she learn?'

‘Alas, she must garner what she may from her father or her husband or even her brother. But not all men, like Israel, are forthcoming. We Jewish women have a saying: “Honey obtained without a sting is not as sweet. Knowledge has a price and is capital hard-gained, so we must spend it wisely.” '

And so I understood that chess was to be the sting I must feel if I was to be granted the sweet gift of learning.
Did God play
chess?
I asked myself.
Who better than He knew the game of life?
I knew I must pray to Him to grant me yet another opportunity. My requests were piling up and I had yet done nought to earn His grace and knew that I must soon prove a worthy penitent or He might forsake me, thinking me only an asker and not a giver.

We began to gather herbs and Frau Sarah was surprised that I knew them all by name and also their cooking uses and those that brought a balance of humours in the body and those for melancholia or bilious upset and other maladies.

‘You must teach me what you know, Sylvia,' she said.

‘Nay, I know only a little and of most of it, I caution, thou should be most wary. It is peasant lore where herbs and maladies are as often mixed with superstition.'

‘Tell me of such as you know – the herbalist within me grows most curious.'

‘Well, if a woman is pregnant and four or five months gone, and she eats nuts or acorns or any fresh fruits, then it frequently happens that the child is silly.'

Frau Sarah laughed. ‘And another?'

‘Again there is a matter concerning the pregnant woman. If she eats bull's meat, or ram's or buck's, or boar's or cock's or gander's flesh or that of any begetting animal, then it sometimes happens that the child is humpbacked and ruptured.'

‘Sometimes? That is most convenient. Not
all
the time as might be true if the meat of the male beast or bird were the cause of this deformity.'

‘Aye, it is this “sometimes” and this “frequently” that causes me to doubt. While acorns eaten green are known to contain some little poison and will cause stomach cramps, fruit and nuts, if fresh and brown, methinks cannot create a silliness in children born.'

‘And of beauty? Is there peasant herbal lore of this? Or how to keep the body fresh?'

She laughed when I confessed I knew nought about their uses to make a woman comely and a man cease to stink. ‘We peasants have little time for vanity and think that stench is a natural part of men, nay, women also, for we work upon the land and with domestic beasts, the cow, pig, goat and sheep – all have their own peculiar smell and each night they share our dwelling.' I laughed. ‘If all smell the same then none shall stink.'

We came suddenly upon a cluster of mushrooms and as she rushed to pick them I quickly stayed her hand. ‘They are poison!' I cried alarmed. ‘You cannot eat them!'

Frau Sarah ignored me and took a small linen bag from her basket and, plucking each one, carefully placed them within the bag. ‘Ah, glory be, today has been most propitious. Look, we have come upon a cluster of Ruth's Truth!' she exclaimed excitedly.

‘Nay! Beware!' I cried again. ‘They are poisonous and you name them wrongly, they are Satan's Shadow!'

Frau Sarah laughed. ‘We call them Ruth's Truth. I will show you how to use them and by their use how you can confound the mind.' Then she turned and placed her hand upon my shoulder and looked into my eyes and spoke sincerely. ‘Sylvia, you have shown me your Miracle of the Birds when I did challenge you. You did so in the nicest way, so that I did not feel ashamed for doubting you. Instead, you told a story to the street children and so most gently overcame my doubting. Now I shall share with you the secrets of this magic mushroom discovered by the wise and faithful Ruth, the great Hebrew prophetess. Its secrets have been passed on by countless generations of Jewish women herbalists. But you must tell no male of it, or use this mushroom's magic power without first careful thought. It has strength to possess another's mind, especially to capture a man's and turn it to your own design. If men know you possess such power they will call you a sorceress. If in Christian company, beware! For the priest will name thee “witch”. I warn you, if taken yourself, you will behold visions beyond this earth, sometimes of heaven and sometimes of a darker place. Try it
only
once when you are alone and in a safe place, then save it for when you will most need it.'

‘But it
is
Satan's Shadow! I know it well and may not touch it lest I will be harmed in body and soul!' I cried, alarmed.

‘Satan's Shadow, is it? Is this also peasant lore? Who called it that? Men, you may be sure. Your priests perhaps? Then you should know that Satan strives to make us ignorant while God seeks to make us wise. I can but show you how to use this magic mushroom and then you must yourself decide if it is Satan's hand that guides you or that of the wise and gentle Ruth, worthiest of all Hebrew women.'

‘Oh no, Frau Sarah!' I cried. ‘The worthiest of all Hebrew women is the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God!'

‘Ah, Sylvia, we Jews have strange superstitions of our own, but none as unlikely as a virgin birth. Our prophets and rabbis and, let me assure you, all Jewish men are far too arrogant to think that we women might conceive without their noble intervention.'

And so, with these disquieting words, we returned to the Jewish Quarter where Frau Sarah was to do the final fitting for the white gown I would wear in St Martin's square that afternoon.

There, outside the great church, we would test the ratcatcher's doubtful notion that busy folk would gather to hear him play and me to sing. Despite my fear of this encounter with the people of Cologne, I could barely contain my excitement that Master Israel might agree to teach me Latin if at first I could master chess, the game of life. I would then know if God had granted me, a peasant sinner and not yet a confessed and worthy penitent, the true gift I desired most of all.