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Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

March, 14, 2005

Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

the pot of blood in Kaliís hand...

	    
	
	    Artwork (c) Earthwizard
	       
				
			The Burning Times: The Tale of Stubbe Peeter 
	
	  They said Stubbe Peeter was a werewolf, 
	A Sorcerer who killed and ate his victims; 
	But what is the truth of this? How do we know 
	For sure? And what is the tale in this 
	For us who are the modern witches? 
	In written record we can here the law, 
	The doctors of the hate of Church 
	Against all who were of an other faith: 
	They said he was a wicked man 
	Who from the age of twelve 
	Pursued the arts of magic, 
	necromancy, and sorcery 
	And gave his body to the Devil 
	For a life of earthly pleasure; 
	And the Devil these lawyers tell 
	Has such power of reason 
	And a ready ear to listen 
	To the lewed motions of a cursed man, 
	Promises them their heart's desire to meet 
	If they in body and in soul will give 
	Their pledge to him; but Stubbe Peeter 
	Did not want the gold or silver offered him, 
	All he wanted was the bloody power 
	Of dominion over men; so the Devil 
	Gave him a girdle that shifted him 
	in skin to Wolf, Strong and mighty, 
	with eyes great and large, 
	Which in the night like brands 
	of fire shown brightly; 
	His mouth full of teeth, 
	his hands to paws of clawed beast; 
	But as soon as he took off 
	the girdle back to human form was cast; 
	This made Stubbe Peeter 
	happy and he shook the Devils hand 
	in agreement; So now he walked abroad 
	in Collin, Bedbur, and Cperadt 
	Seeking out both foe and friend, 
	his guise to cruelty transformed 
	To the dark foe of his heart: to 
	quicken them to St. Peter's mark; 
	And if he maiden found deserted 
	in the field he would have her, 
	Then in his guise of wolf 
	would eat her and be done with her; 
	The lawyer continued with his tale 
	showing forth his keening, 
	Telling of the wolf-man's lust 
	for his daughter and his sister: 
	And from his loins: children 
	he had by both of them; 
	And then he met a woman named, 
	Katherin Trompin, who he held in faith 
	For seven years only to find her a She-Devil; 
	There are many other tales we 
	Could relate but will not tell; 
	but only that he lived like this, 
	so full of lust and murder and cruelty 
	For five and twenty years, 
	unsuspected by his peers 
	Until he made the fatal move 
	to kill a young maiden of Christian blood: 
	He attacked her in the forest 
	with friends and cattle bye and bye, 
	But could not feed on her 
	because her collar kept him 
	From harming her, the the cattle 
	ran against him and he ran from them 
	To seek shelter; at this time one, 
	Master Tice Artine, a brewer 
	Dwelling at Puddlewharfe in London town, 
	A man of country birth, and of good reputation, 
	Received letters from this young maiden's people; 
	Then men of hill and dale, of towns 
	All round about gathered together 
	And formed a hunting party 
	To secure this wolfish creature: 
	They found him in the forest 
	But as they were about to shoot him, 
	In the blinking of an eye 
	he transformed himself back into his human form, 
	And these men being afraid 
	began to talk to him and took him home 
	To make sure that he was not 
	the Devil in deguise; and, when 
	In their surety they found him 
	to be true, took him to the local magistrate 
	To have him examined: then they 
	put him to the rack to torture him, 
	But before they could muster him 
	he confessed his crimes of twenty years, 
	And told them of the magick girdle 
	that the Devil had given him; 
	But they sought this magick artifact 
	In the valley where he left it 
	And could not find it, so they 
	Imprisioned him along with his accomplises: 
	His daughter, Stubbe Beell 
	and the gossip Katherine Trompin; 
	He was judged to have his body laid 
	Upon the wheel, and with red hot 
	Pincers he was to have his flesh 
	pulled off from his white bones, 
	His legs were broken, his head cut off, 
	His body burned to ashes. 
	So, gentle reader, I come to the end 
	Of this discourse of the lawyers 
	Who left one final darkened image 
	Of this man: the strung him high 
	Upon a pole which first went through 
	The wheel whereon he was broken, 
	And fastened him; after this 
	they put and image of a wolf framed in wood 
	To show unto all men the shape 
	Of those cruelties. Over that 
	On top of the stake the sorcerer's head 
	Itself was set up, and round 
	About the wheel there hung 
	As it were sixteen pieces of wood 
	About a yard in length 
	That represented the sixteen persons he murdered. 
	So ends this tale of woe 
	Upon one man named Stubbe Peeter; 
	But if you know the ways of witchdom, 
	Then know ye well, that this tale of tales 
	Happened three hundred years in many lands: 
	The burning times we call them: 
	For many women and men suffered 
	This and worse crimes at the hands 
	Of false priests and magistrates 
	Without founded justification. 
	So learn a lesson well, my witchy friends, 
	For we ourselves might find again 
	That such dark religions could revive 
	That set our kin into the fire. 
	So get the word out while you can 
	To all: waken all the Children of the Moon, 
	For this is the time we need to move 
	To turn the Great Wheel of Life 
	And find our kindred spirits 
	To each other bound in perfect harmony. 
	
	    - Earthwizard, aka, Steven Craig Hickman 
	          © January, 9,2004 

poetry

		
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