Nell in Bridewell - Part 4

Above is one sample sentence and one paragraph from "Lenchens Abschied".  In my last post, I mentioned that I was struggling with incredibly long, complex sentences.  So above you can see what I mean!  

Anyhow, below is my translation of the first letter in Nell's Farewell.  This is NOT a perfect, word for word translation, but believe me, you wouldn't want one!  Instead, I believe I've captured the essence of the story and in many places, I've transcribed utilizing modern English.  This story, however, is over 180 years old and I didn't want to lose entirely the atmosphere of that time.  Thus, I left in many embellishments and older words in an attempt to retain some of the ambience of that older time period.

As for provenance, unfortunately nothing has changed. We simply do not know who wrote it nor from where the story came.  Nevertheless, if you enjoyed Nell in Bridewell, I can guarantee that you will enjoy this "addendum".

Nell's Farewell 

Addendum to Nell in Bridewell

by W. Reinhardt

1906

Private print

MARIE TO NELL

Greetings to you my lovely and unfortunate angel! By firmness, resignation, courage, and moral strength, you have traveled the greatest part of a horrible journey through that dark valley of misery. 

Although you haven't competed all of your punishment, caused by your unselfish act of love and awarded to you by men lacking both mercy and compassion, soon, very soon you will put it all behind you.

Soon all memory of your current disgraceful treatment will seem to you like a bad dream!

Listen to the news that I, your most faithful of friends, have for you: 

In eight days, at the latest, you will be set FREE; thus, half of your sentence has been pardoned! The official communication has been sent simultaneous with this letter, but alas, do not be alarmed, my dear Nell.  Compose yourself and be as courageous as before, because a total pardon is simply not possible.  This kindly reduction in your sentence did not come easy as there was little appetite to extend mercy to you, “a traitor to the fatherland”. Further, it will not be granted to you unconditionally, my sweet darling! I have tried everything to avert for you the fate of another chastisement, but alas, in vain.  And so, your formal “Farewell” has not been forgiven!

Let me continue, as the news is NOT completely disheartening:

As a consolation, however, we achieved a concession that will result in a significant reduction in severity. For the official decree will expressly state that you  are to be punished with a “Moderate Farewell”.

Based upon the description of your dreadful “Welcome” (in one of your letters, which I shared with Councilor N., my acquaintance), Councilor N., in order to prevent any more arbitrary enhancements, clarified that the “Moderate Farewell”, to which you will be subjected, will consist of 25 strokes of the rod from a woman's hand on your uncovered posterior.

Try to be calm, my dear Nell! My heart breaks when I think of the horror that this bad news will cause you, but take comfort.  After all, what is this chastisement compared to the 20 strokes with the bull's pizzle from the male Overseer, that your tender behind received at your formal “Welcome”?

After this punishment, you are FREE! Nell, free, and you can fall into the arms of your faithful Isidor, who will seek to repay you with the highest of love for all that you have suffered for him!

Here is how it all came about. Councilor N., that noble, capable government commissioner whom I consulted on your behalf, told me something like this:

I have, contrary to the advice of a large majority, nevertheless invoked the mercy of the Regent.  Then, despite the opposition of some men, who were not very favorably disposed towards me and who had demanded that Nell serve the full term of her sentence and be subjected to repeated severe chastisements, I was able obtained her early release. Unfortunately, despite my strenuous objections, said 'release' can only be granted, with the provision that she be subjected to the customary House of Correction's “Farewell”. 

My argument, that Nell had already been sufficiently physically punished by that excessively severe “Welcome”, was rejected in hand, because and I quote: “one must not judge the crime of high treason too leniently.  Moreover, Nell's offense, aggravated theft, definitely deserves a corresponding severe chastisement.  Finally, if it were deemed appropriate, a special moderation of Nell's “Farewell” would be ordered.”

“This, my dear little Marie,” he said, “is what I have achieved, and Nell's release from prison is already being drawn up.” 

I stood there dismayed, with tears in my eyes. “So, my sweet, little Nell must lie down on that horrible whipping-bench again?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied. “But it won't be so bad, for this time she only gets the rod, and it will be applied by a women's hand.  After all, what are 25 strokes for that firm, healthy Nell?  She'll hardly feel them at all!”

“So,” I replied a little irritably, “you don't think this is much of a punishment, do you? My dear, beautiful Helen, who has long passed her adolescence, and has become a delightful, desirable woman, must be positioned on the bench, like a schoolgirl with her skirts lifted up, backside bared and prepared for a birch whipping.  You think she'll hardly suffer very much? I should have hoped that you, Mr. Councilor, would have helped her in avoiding further suffering, but now I see that I was very much mistaken.”

He looked at me with a half-smile: “So, my dear little Marie, recriminations are your thanks for the fact that in a few days Nell will be set free!  Next, to have the three long months, which she still had to serve, be remitted? Oh, yes, little Marie, ingratitude is also a transgression, for which even a cute girl like you should have her skirts rolled up and her delicate round, hind-cheeks treated to a sound dose of the birch!”

“Forgive me!” I replied totally embarrassed, “Forgive me for neglecting to thank you, and forgive me for my rash words. However, now I must quickly write to Nell, that freedom beckons, and give her both notice and some reassurance for what is in store for her.”

That was the gist of my conversation with Councilor N., my sweet Nell! I weep with you when in a few days, or perhaps in only a few hours, you await trembling and fearful of the shameful and painful strokes of the rod, while bound to that evil whipping-bench. Then subsequently twitching, writhing, and screaming and yet finding no help anywhere. Nell, if I could relieve you of this punishment, if I could suffer for you, how gladly I would! 

Do you remember how you were once punished in place of me? Oh, back then in the glorious, golden days of our youth! You may have long forgotten that little episode, but I remember the entire incident as if it had happened only yesterday. Both of us were probably about 13-years-old when mischievously during our religion lesson, I made the most ridiculous drawing of our honorable Choirmaster and secretly slipped that picture to you. When you were supposed to recite your Bible verse, it fell out of your pocket and unfortunately, fell into the hands of our justly enraged teacher. Do you remember when you had to step up to his desk, and while you walked past my seat red in the face, I whispered to you in a low voice in fear, “Nell, don't betray me!?” 

You looked at me with your deep, blue eyes, and — you sweet child, who is suffering innocently even today — you betrayed nothing; you remained silent!  Oh, Nell, the fear I felt then! You had to hold out your dear, tender little hands, oh, and endure three strokes on each with the Spanish cane. Just as you were about with tears in your eyes to return to your place, the Choirmaster's young daughter, always smiling and always quick-witted, entered with a rod. We could see in her eyes, it was a pleasure for her, to take the beautiful Nell, the darling of the whole class, who she had never punished with her rod and was delighted at the opportunity.

At the time, my entire body trembled with fear, and yet this fear arose primarily from my base selfishness. I did not dare to voluntarily confess my guilt, and feared even more, that you would not stand firm and instead, avoid the impending pain by pleading innocent. But no, my Nell only wept softly to herself, and did not answer any questions asked by the Choirmaster.  Then his daughter, who had moved a chair to the front of that black table, where we could all see you and your chastisement. Forcefully, she seized you by the arm and dragged you to the table. Ah, my sweet darling, even then your beauty and grace did not shield you from severe punishment. I can still see you before me, in that stylish, short skirt, with long black stockings decorated with light blue garters, which were hidden under your skirts, and finally, your lace panties.  Your hair flowing down almost to your round, well-form cheeks and your innocent face crimson blushing with anxiety and fear, like a small, hearty angel you stood before us! The other girls, myself included despite my fear, waited with curiosity to see what your punishment would be. Further, many of us, who were envious of your beauty, were looking forward to hearing you, who often laughed, cry under the whippy rod of the pretty mamselle.

And how slowly she tied the rose ribbons of the rod. How slowly, in spite of your entreaties and pleas, she lifted your little skirts, one after the other, up to your waist, before she even put you in the position, that girls to be spanked usually have to take. Then your lace panties were pulled down to your calves. Finally, by picking up your little shirt, we could see saw your snow-white, tender, full cheeks, which was undoubtedly quite shameful for you. Strange feelings flooded the more mature of us girls, including me, to see one our peers stripped like that in front of us, and our red-flushed cheeks clearly showed what a lively interest we all took in you and your punishment.

“I want to kiss Nell,” whispered my neighbor, “She's so beautiful!”

All of them expressed their opinions and wishes in very low whispers, to avoid being punished themselves. Then, your chastisement began. Mamselle, who had been slapping your cheeks continuously while she undressed you, laid you across the chair. One of us, you remember her, Wilhelmine B., had to hold firmly your little feet. Mamselle herself took hold of your little hands, and then Mamselle ordered each of us to give a stroke or two, because you had so rudely attacked the honor of the Choirmaster and so openly showed disrespect for our religion.

Nell, the beautiful, ample Nell, was stripped bare before us, and we ourselves were forced to chastise her!  Believe me, my dear friend, and forgive me even now years later, I quite forgot that I should have been the one lying over that chair and getting spanked.

Well, with me, although I was neither skinny nor unattractive at the time, I wouldn't been much trouble. I would have positioned my bottom, perhaps even with tightly drawn skirts, and then been spanked quickly— but with you!  Yes, my little Nell, your beauty and kindness hurt you back then as much as it does today! The charming Helen, for whom even older gentlemen in the street looked back; the ideal of all the pupils and students of our little town. Nell, whose beauty was unreservedly acknowledged even by women, and not only that, as it often happened at our games, the landing of slaps on your skirt was enjoyed by many of our classmates! 

You know, dear Nell, how strict our Choirmaster was. How often one or the other of us had to lie over his knees and let herself be spanked either with the rod on her bare bottom or with the Spanish cane on stretched panties or tight skirt.  We'd then watch her wriggle and scream loudly in pain all the time begging for it to end, but all these chastisements, which often took place before our eyes, would not make us feel anything, but sympathy or compassion. 

It was different with you.... You know, my sweet darling! It was the first and only time you had ever been spanked at school, and none of us had ever seen the splendor of your bare backside. Such a wonder vision we had, that we immediately in love with you, but also in part due to the effect the spanking had on you.

You remember how you felt back then, don't you? Mamselle held you tight, and we came up to you one by one, and you got a stroke or two from each of us. Some used their hands, some that convenient rod, others the ruler or the thin Spanish cane. I had given you two so-called “smacks” with the flat of my hand, on your round bare buttocks already covered in stripes, but I could not stop there. I had simply had to replicate the wonderful sound that spanking stick makes when it lands on firm flesh. So, I grabbed the stick by the handle and lashed it with all my strength right across the middle of your bare cheeks.

Oh, how you screamed, how you bucked your bottom up and down and kicked your legs. I could see your behind quivering in severe pain when you were finally allowed to get up and go to your room.  Walking was difficult.  Your legs hardly seemed to carry you, so you shuffled along rather slowly holding your throbbing backside. It was almost an hour before your weeping and tears subsided. Of course, you spent the following three hours rubbing your bottom trying to soothe the torment in your flaming cheeks.

When your punishment was over, and our excitement had subsided, we all felt deep regret and sorrow for you, and tried to make up for what we lacked in compassion with words of comfort, kisses, and hugs. “I am grateful to you till my dying days,” I pledged to you on the way home, and begged for forgiveness with my hot tears. But you, sweet, good and noble one, embraced me like a sister, pressed a hot kiss on my lips, and said, “Oh, little Marie, I suffered it gladly for you!  It did not hurt so much!” 

Nevertheless, when at your house I picked up your skirts and began soothing your cheeks with my hands, I felt how hot and welted they were.  Then I noticed that one of the welts, the one I caused with that hard stroke of the spanking stick, was greatly swollen.

Yes, just as you sacrificed yourself for your best friend back then, you have sacrificed yourself now for your beloved Isidor.  Indeed, you have suffered terrible things just to save him!

There would be no justice on earth if a lifetime of happiness were not to descend upon you. In a few days more, you will be a free woman, and will leave this house of horrors! How dreadful it would be if you had to remain in House of Correction for those last three months, which have now been pardoned! And no doubt during that time, they would have found frequent opportunities to spank and whip you for both real or imaginary infractions! So, take comfort, dear Nell, it won't be much worse than the spanking you got way back then from your schoolmates.

Nell, I am always with you in spirit, my most faithful, loyal, and trusted friend! May God give you strength and courage for the final “Farewell” which awaits you!

Yours,

Marie.