Schönborn appeared deep in thought, but he nodded. “We must do away with this nonsense throughout the entire Reich. But we are perhaps ahead of our times.” Then he turned to the two doctors. “Are you familiar with the Cautio Criminalis, by the Jesuit priest Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld? You ought to go to meet this outstanding scholar personally in Cologne. Even back then, Spee was convinced that torture was never useful in finding the truth. Probably after enough turns of the wheel, even I would confess on the rack to having danced with the devil. It’s such nonsense!”
“I believe the actors are to be tortured today,” Simon said softly. “If even one of them confesses to having put a curse on the suffragan bishop, we’ll have a hard time presenting our case.”
“I see what you’re trying to say.” Johann Philipp von Schönborn rose from the pew. “Very well, I’ll do what I can to see if my friend Philipp will put off the torturing for a while. I’m afraid, though, that there are limits to what I can do, especially since this Malcolm, the director of the group, actually was found in possession of some magical trinkets. By the day after tomorrow at the latest, when I leave Bamberg to return home, you’re on your own. By then you’ll have to present evidence convincing enough for even the most slow-witted citizens to understand.”
“It’s hard to fight superstition,” Samuel said.
“You’re telling me?” The elector extended his hand. When Simon and Samuel tried to kneel before him, Schönborn gently pulled them back to their feet. “Here, where no one is watching, that’s really unnecessary, gentlemen. Sometimes I wish there were a little less etiquette and a little more honesty in our daily dealings.” One last time he looked deep into Simon’s eyes. “I trust you, Master Fronwieser. Bring me the true culprit, and I’ll support you. Philipp needs my money to finish building his bishop’s residence, so I have a little influence over him. But you must realize that even I am powerless against a whole city that has gone mad.”
He turned away and left the building, where the guards outside reverently bowed before him.
Jakob and Jeremias were standing in front of a shelf in the bishop’s archives, leafing intently through some papers. The heavy volume in Jakob’s hands bearing the inscription 1628 was by far the largest he’d ever seen. It was secured both by string and glue. The title of the proceedings was announced in large letters on the leather cover: TRIAL OF THE BAMBERG CHANCELLOR DOCTOR GEORGE HAAN.
“Was the accused in fact the Bamberg chancellor himself?” Jakob asked, turning to Jeremias in surprise.
The old man nodded. “The witch trials allowed the powerful to settle some scores among themselves. No fewer than six burgomasters were executed, along with a few council members.” A smile passed over his face. “They burn just the way you and I do, as you perhaps know from your own experience.” Then he turned serious again. “But the trial of George Haan was something special. Haan was a smart man and was at first protected by the prince-bishop. The other noblemen were annoyed that he wasn’t originally from Bamberg, and in addition, he didn’t want to end the witch trials, just cut back on them. Until then, the accuser and the judge had been sharing the assets of the condemned party, and Haan wanted to forbid that. He also wanted to disband the Witches Commission.”
“The bastards were afraid they wouldn’t get their cut,” Jakob growled.
“Indeed.” Jeremias turned to the next page and pointed to some names. “And for that reason, some of the councilors concocted a plot that eventually led to the downfall of the entire Haan family.”
Jakob stared at him in astonishment. “The entire family?”
“They started with his wife and his daughter, accusing them both of having an affair with the devil. The ever-so-high-and-mighty gentlemen also accused the two women of making an ointment from the bodies of children, with which they could influence the weather. And, of course, witch’s marks were found on their bodies.” Jeremias scratched his bald head. “I clearly remember how my servants finally found the marks under the mother’s armpit. They pierced them with a knife, but no blood came out, and that settled the matter.”
With growing disgust, Jakob stared at the former executioner Michael Binder, who spoke so casually about his past deeds. Jakob, too, had been ordered, one time in Schongau, to search for such witch’s marks-suspiciously shaped birthmarks with which the devil allegedly branded witches as a sign of their alliance. But he was able to stop the investigation before it got to that point.
“After the woman and her daughter came the chancellor himself and his son,” Jeremias continued casually. “I must say that the old nobleman was rather steadfast under torture, but eventually he gave in, too, and confessed he had kissed the devil’s anus.” He winked at Jakob. “You know, yourself, that in the end they all confess, though in his case we had to be pretty firm. We beheaded him before throwing his body in the fire.”
Jakob closed his eyes as his revulsion spread like a bad taste in his mouth.
He is only a tool, just like you. He’s not to blame.
But it was hard to cling to this conviction.
“What happened then?” he asked, to take his mind off it.
“After the old guy came another daughter and a daughter-in-law-in this way almost the entire Haan family was wiped out, even though they had once belonged to the most distinguished and powerful families in all of Bamberg.”
Jakob stared in shock at the large document in his hand, describing in matter-of-fact, prosaic words the story of so much grief.
“It’s clear someone wanted to do away with the chancellor,” he said finally. “But the entire family? What was the reason for that?”
“It sounds pointless and cruel, but it was part of the plan,” Jeremias explained. “When his wife and eldest daughter were accused of witchcraft, the chancellor went to the Imperial Court in Speyer to enter an appeal. That was a serious error, but one provoked intentionally by his adversaries. The Bamberg prince-bishop resented Haan for taking things into his own hands and refused to support him, and the remaining members of the family were also eliminated so there would be no witnesses later. I believe that after the witch trials, other members of the family also died under mysterious circumstances. In a few years, all the Haans had disappeared.”
“Who was behind all that?” Jakob asked.
“Hm. .” Jeremias seemed to be thinking it over, then he opened the book to the page where the individual members of the commission were named. They were the same names as those on Jakob’s list.
“Well, presumably they were all somewhat involved in it,” Jeremias concluded, “but I’m guessing it was principally the chairman-who, as I recall, had earlier been promised the position of chancellor.”
“And who was the chairman?” Jakob clenched his fists; he was having trouble keeping his voice down. “For God’s sake, don’t make me drag it out of you.”
Jeremias leaned down to inspect the document. “God, isn’t it here somewhere?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Indeed it is, but it’s crossed out several times in ink. Probably someone was trying to wipe the slate clean afterward. But wait. .” He turned the sheet over and found another note. Someone had signed the transcript of the interrogation in a large, flowing script.
“Aha!” Jeremias said triumphantly. “But in this place the good fellow forgot to cross out his name.” He stopped and stared at it. “Well, that’s certainly interesting. Look who we have here.”
Jakob’s eyes weren’t as good as they used to be, and it took a while until he could make anything of the scribbles. When he finally was able to read it, he exhaled loudly. He knew the name-at least the surname.
Dr. Johann Georg Harsee
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jakob said, shaking his head. “Is he perhaps-”
“Yes, indeed, he just happens to be the father of our present suffragan bishop,” Jeremias said with a grin. “After Haan’s death, he became the chancellor, and isn’t it strange-all these men and women who in some way were connected with the commission at that time met their deaths, and the son of the presiding judge was transformed into a werewolf. If I didn’t know it had to be satanic magic, I’d believe God himself was taking sweet revenge.”