Note E38 — A RECORD OF THE SUFFERINGS OF THE IMPRISONED COUNTESS LEONORA CHRISTINA. (continued 5)

‘Anno 1666, soon after Karen, Nils’ daughter, came to me, we first discovered that there was a stone floor to my prison chamber, as she broke loose a piece of rubbish cemented together, and the stones were apparent. I had before thought it a loam floor. The former Karen, Ole’s daughter, was one of those who spread the dirt but do not take it away. This Karen tormented me unceasingly, almost daily, that we must remove it everywhere, and that at once—it would soon be done. I was of opinion that it would make us ill if it was done all at once, as we required water to soften it, and the stench in this oppressive hole would cause sickness, but that it would be easier and less uncomfortable to remove one piece after another. She adhered to her opinion and to her desire, and thought that she could persuade the prison governor and the tower-warder to let the door remain open till all had been made clean. But when the tower-warder had brought in a tub of water, he locked the door. I went to bed and covered my face closely, while she scraped and swept up the dirt. The quantity of filth was incredible. It had been collecting for years, for this had been a malefactors’ prison, and the floor had never been cleaned. She laid all the dirt in a heap in the corner, and there was as much as a cartload. It was left there until evening at supper-time, when the doors were opened. It was as I feared: we were both ill. The woman recovered first, for she could get out into the air, but I remained in the oppressive hole, where there was scarcely light. We gained this from it, that we were tormented day and night with numbers of fleas, and they came to her more than to me, so much so that she was often on the point of weeping. I laughed and made fun of it, saying that she would now have always something to do, and would have enough to beguile the time. We could not, however, work. The fleas were thick on our stockings, so that the colour of the stockings was not to be perceived, and we wiped them off into the water-basin. I then discovered that one flea produces another. For when I examined them, and how they could swim, I perceived that some small feet appeared behind the flea, and I thought it was a peculiar kind. At last I saw what it was, and I took the flea from which the small one was emerging on my finger, and it left behind evidences of birth: it hopped immediately, but the mother remained a little, until she recovered herself, and the first time she could not hop so far. This amusement I had more than once, till the fleas came to an end. Whether all fleas are born in this manner I cannot tell, but that they are produced from dirt and loam I have seen in my prison, and I have observed how they become gradually perfect and of the peculiar colour of the material from which they have been generated. I have seen them pair.’

It is scarcely necessary to say that, as far as natural history is concerned, Leonora has committed a mistake.