CHAPTER II
Bertha informed me that the Colonel was out of danger, and was staying in the city during his convalescence. The physician thought he would be able to lead his regiment within a few weeks. The old spinner had returned homewards with Carl. He had been taken to the hospital of our capital.
"And Anton, of the saw-mill-is he dead?"
"Father, I am telling you the whole truth; but I beg of you, do not seek to learn all these things to-day. Take care of yourself, for our sakes."
I was soon again able to be up, and Bertha could not say enough in praise of the kindness and sympathy of the French people, in whose house I lay.
The housewife now wanted to speak to me, too.
She came, and was quite delighted to receive my heartfelt thanks.
A few days later, I was permitted to visit the Colonel, and the first words he uttered were, "Bertha, now I firmly believe in my recovery. You wear your hair in curls again."
He informed me that he had considered it an ill omen, when Bertha had worn her hair plain. Now that he was out of danger, the curls and happiness were back again.
Then he recounted everything, from the first moment of his being wounded, when he seemed to realize what death is. It seemed like a stroke of lightning; then all was night and utter darkness. His adjutant stepped to his couch, grasped his hand, kissed it, and wept over it. He felt the kisses and the tears, but was unable to give a sign of consciousness, either by a pressure of the hand or by a word; within him, all was life, like a subterranean stream.
I did not long have the pleasure of listening to the reminiscences of the convalescent Colonel. I longed to return home. When the next train started for Germany, it was in charge of Professor Rolunt, who had nursed the Colonel like a brother; they yielded to my entreaties, and, in a well-heated car, I journeyed homewards.
Wolfgang accompanied me to the State capital, and then, in company with Christiane, returned with a load of medicines and delicacies to the theatre of war.
I felt as if I could not get thoroughly well again except at home, and so it proved. When I inhaled the air of our forest-covered mountains, it gave me new life.
The Privy Councillor's wife insisted on my resting at her house for a few days, and by the careful nursing of our physician as well as his confident manner, which of itself was a remedy, I soon gained fresh vigor. It did me good to hear Lady Von Rontheim entwine the memories of our fallen sons. She informed me, briefly and clearly, of what had happened during my illness; for now, when I could again read and understand the papers, I noticed many lapses in my knowledge of events.
While I was living in the little town, Ludwig came. I did not comprehend how I could have omitted to inquire about him; and now he brought with him a refreshing breeze from another hemisphere. As he had previously informed me by letter, he had journeyed to England and then to America, to prevent shipments of arms for the French. He had not had much success, although he offered, through the newspapers, a large reward for any information regarding such shipments.
I felt pained when he said, "We Germans have no friends abroad, because we have not hitherto presented to the world an imposing front. During the last half-century, the German nation was like a man who has the consciousness of honest intentions, and who counts on the recognition of them by others. But neither an individual nor a people obtains recognition gratuitously. They must wrest it from the world; and the best and the easiest way is not to wait for it, but to put your shoulder to the wheel. Now the nations speak in another key; but they would all have rejoiced if the brilliant Frenchman had overpowered us."
This pained me, and I did not wish to believe it. Ludwig proved to me that, in England and America, some of the more far-sighted favored our cause, and that the governments could have easily prevented the shipment of arms and much useless carnage, had they seriously desired it. He considered it infinitely better that we did not need to ask, as we had hitherto done, "What do other nations think of us? How are they inclined towards us?" but that in future others would have to ask, "What do the Germans think of us? How are they inclined?" Ludwig, while abroad, had, with delight, perceived the general curiosity and amazement, in regard to the newly discovered wonder-land-Germany. He declared that we had no idea of the effect our wonderful achievements had had upon the people of all lands. He had everywhere announced the German Emperor, before he even was proclaimed at home.
We at home scarcely know how much we have gained in the esteem of others, and how gigantically our future looms up before the eyes of astonished mankind. They see a thousand different effects flow from this new birth; and I believe they are in the right.
Conny came to town, and, with her and Ludwig, I returned home.
CHAPTER III
When I rode along the forest road, I saw Gaudens at his work. He wore a soldier-cap, and whistled "Die Wacht am Rhein," while clearing up the ditch beside the footpath.
The valley stream was frozen tight, the trees were heavily laden with snow. Ludwig reported that he had purchased machines in America and England for our mill. With the aid of these, the winter would, in future, not prevent operations. Finished work could be set up, except when the orders were to ship the articles in separate parts. It seemed as if he contemplated remaining with us, as he had settled up much of his business in America. Besides, on his way home, he had taken some large contracts from building associations. When I expressed surprise at the varied fields of his activity, he said, "Father, I have remembered this from what I have learned of music; you may play a different air with each hand, and still both must be in harmony. My right hand plays the melody 'personal advantage,' my left, the melody 'public weal;' sometimes they change about, too. I have built water-works, that were for the good of many; but they were good for me, too, and I do not think that without this I would have built them so cheerfully. Just now a great mania for building prevails among the people, and we shall be able to give employment to many good laborers who have been driven out of France."
We came to the saw-mill near the bridge. Here, on the same day that the news arrived of Anton's death, a workman had lost three of his ringers by the circular saw. Ludwig went to the man and engaged him as sorter of the different kinds of timber.
The saw-mill was stopped, and all the shutters were closed. Here we met Joseph, who informed us that since the death of his son, the owner of the mill had lost all energy and pleasure in his business. He had removed to a daughter of his in the opposite valley, and wanted to sell the property. "You must buy this, and work for us," cried Ludwig.
Joseph answered sadly that he could not; he said he was in danger of losing everything. He had invested almost his entire property in wood in the Hagenau forest, and if Bourbaki and his army should force their way through, all would be lost over there as well as here.
These were certainly very gloomy prospects, and we could not get any comfort at home; we daily expected the advance of Bourbaki's army, and it was said that preparations were being made to lay the whole country waste.
My sister wrote that in Alsace it was the general belief that there would now be a change. Bourbaki would strike down Germany. Her husband had hung up the pictures and epaulettes again; but with this proviso, that if the French would not deliver them this time, he would have nothing further to do with them, and would become a forester in Germany.
Bertha had returned to the capital, and wrote that the Colonel, with whom Rothfuss had remained, was again at the head of his regiment in the division that opposed Bourbaki's advance towards the Rhine.
At home, I found another cause for deep emotion; it was a letter for me from Ernst. It had been forwarded from the field by the army post. The paper showed the traces of many tears. I was so much overcome, every time I read the letter, that my children took it away from me; but I asked them to return it, and here it is:
"Dear Father and Mother: – See me prostrate at your feet; what I desired to do a thousand times, and again and again postponed, I must now finish.
"I know that, both for you and for me, my deeds have filled many days and nights-nay, whole years-with sadness. I cannot express in words what I have thought and felt while on the march in the hot sun, or at night when I looked up to the stars that shone also on my paternal home. And, oh! how, when on the march and parched with thirst, I longed for a drop of water from our fountain. I write with burning tears, but they cannot blot out the past, nor recall a single wasted hour. Lost! lost! I repent, I suffer deeply. You often told me, mother, 'You must curb your spirit.' I could not succeed in my peaceful home, although I had so many to help me you, father, Martella, my brothers and sisters. From afar, the sound of ardent prayer swells into an eager wail for redemption. I have wasted all. Am I a sacrifice to my country's misery? And now comes the most dreadful consequence of my misdeeds. We have received orders to take ship to fight against Germany. No, not against Germany. The old misery is here again with redoubled force. An officer has confided to me, that several of the lesser German states had called upon France to release them from the tyranny of Prussia.
"I had loaded my gun and pointed it at my head, but, thinking of you, I fired into the air.
"Is it my guilt, or am I but a drop in the stream that overflows its bed?
"O my parents! He who leaves his country is suspended in mid-air, and has no ground to stand upon. It is well that the end is near; but I wish you to know that my soul is with you at home. At this moment, I feel your hands on my head, blessing me.
"May Martella remain forever true! I can say nothing to her. Oh, Richard was in the right. How dared I, who was nothing for myself, bind another life to mine?
"I thank you a thousand times for all the kindness, all the love you bestowed upon me who am unworthy of it, and upon Martella who deserves it.
"I beg forgiveness of my brothers and sisters for the wrongs I have done them.
"Do not mourn for me; I shall find the way to atonement. Console and comfort yourselves with the thought of one who will remember you till death.
"ERNST."
CHAPTER IV
"Father, I did not hitherto wish to speak of it, but now I must tell you," said Ludwig, one day.
"For God's sake, what can have happened?"
"Nothing bad, quite the contrary; I am resolved to remain here. I did not wish to tell you until peace was restored, but I think that this is the time when the news will do you most good."
I deemed it my duty to advise him to delay before making up his mind, but he replied, "I have considered everything. Whatever a man may achieve in this world, be it ever so great or important, if he has not done his whole duty to his parents, all else is vain. I remain with you, and to public duties I will devote as much of my life as can be spared from you."
Thus spoke my son, whose roving life in America we thought had made him harsh and cold.
I inquired whether he had already consulted his wife. He replied that there was no doubt of her consent, because she would simply and gladly consent as soon as he should tell her that it was for the best.
Conny at once consented. She mentioned that her father had always prophesied that she would some time return to Europe. She now felt particularly happy, because, if it should turn out that a German confederation with an emperor at its head would be established, the ideal of her father's life, and for the sake of which he went into exile, would be realized.
While our eyes were wandering from the warlike past to a peaceful future, we were thrilled over and over again by the thought that our army stood like a gigantic wall in the path of the advancing Bourbaki.
Ludwig told me that, in connection with some friends, he intended to start a new building association for the public benefit. He had found the starting point with some former friends from the gymnasium. Their object was to locate some grand industrial establishments in the country, in order to avert the threatened overcrowding of the large cities, by giving profitable employment to the dwellers in the rural districts. He intended to transfer his mill to the company, and also to enlarge it.
Martha, who had remained with her mother in the city, sent us a letter from Julius. He wrote about the great sortie from Paris, and what heavy sacrifices it had cost us. He was very happy to have been able to give proofs of his valor, and he had received the Iron Cross of the first class on the field of battle.
Madam Von Rontheim begged me to hold myself in readiness to return to the city within a few days.
It was towards evening when the sounds of great rejoicing were heard in the village. All flocked together, and we heard loud cries, "Rothfuss is here again!" Rothfuss came with two horses harnessed to his vehicle, and two following in the rear.
"I bring four captured Frenchmen," he cried: "I have bought them honestly. Of course I paid only for their hides. They are not much more than skin and bone anyway, but in a week I shall feed four new horses into their skins. When they taste the fodder from our mountain forests, they will think, 'What a fine country Germany is; there they feed horses on sweet herbs.'"
Rothfuss also brought the great news that our German troops had pushed Bourbaki and his men to the wall; just as might have been done in a tavern fight.
We did not quite understand what he really meant. Then Joseph brought the newspaper. Alsace was free; and his joy over the victory was enhanced by the certainty that his timber in the Hagenau forest was now all safe.
We read about the three days' battle before Belfort; and as long as valor and endurance are remembered, history will have a glorious page to unfold there.
My daughter Johanna came down to enjoy a few days' rest with us. In spite of the great hardships she had undergone, she had become stronger, and looked more cheerful. She wanted to deliver her good news in person. Her daughter had become engaged to a man who had lost his right arm. Christiane had nursed him faithfully, and fallen in love with him, and Johanna is right in saying, "She will always love him the more because of her having to take care of him; she is just the wife for an invalid."
On the very next day, we had a triumphal entry in our village. Carl was well again, but carried his left arm in a sling. Rothfuss harnessed his four "Bourbakis" (they were lean as yet, but lively) and drove Carl and his mother, four-in-hand. Down at the saw-mill, Marie mounted beside Carl and rode along into the village.
Rothfuss stopped before the house of the meadow-farmer. Nobody was to be seen there, but all cried, "Hurrah for the meadow-farmer!"
"You must say the old farmer," commanded Rothfuss, "because Carl is now the young meadow farmer. Come out, old fellow; Napoleon had to abdicate, too. Give up your flail to Carl, the conqueror."
At last the door opened. The old meadow farmer came out and welcomed Carl. It seemed as if the cheering would never end. Carl becomes the meadow farmer! After this everything is possible.
"Have you any news of my faithful nurse, the Captain's wife?" asked Carl, when he entered our room; and the old woman, who had not heard a word, also asked, "How is the worthy lady?"
Just then, as it happened, a letter arrived from her.
CHAPTER V
Annette wrote:
"What happiness it is to write to you! This is the first time that I address you as your real and true daughter. Do you remember how ill you took it when I once called you Patriarch? You were right, because bandying sharp speeches was a great fault of mine. Too much of the intellectual was my misfortune and that of all of us. Now I am nothing but a quiet ant, crawling up a tree and bearing my tiny mite; to be one ant amongst a thousand is now my only ambition. I do not wish to be anything for myself. I must give you an extract from Richard's letter. What is dearest and most beautiful in it, I cannot, of course, repeat to you. He writes:
"'Hitherto, our happiness consisted in the general belief that every one was a nobody, unless he was something quite apart, because the people as a whole were held in but little esteem. Germany was like the educated Jew, who is always intent on hearing from others, "How do they regard me?" "What do they think of me?" You yourself,'-but here he begins praising me-enough of that.
"'It gave me great pleasure to have Johanna with us in the hospital for a few days, which enabled us, by working together, to gain a better appreciation of each other. She has gathered experience and insight from other sources than myself, and she insists that nature is better than what we call principle. We can afford to let the latter pass, here and there. She acknowledges that unbelievers, as she calls us, are capable of virtuous actions. This war has taught all of us not to ask for dogmas, but for deeds.
"'I am scarcely able to-day, to write a letter in my own name. It was general mail-day, and I sat for hours at the bedside of the sick, writing word for word as they dictated. I am glad to have learnt enough French to be able to write for the officer whom you may remember. How manifold are the relations of life with which I have become familiarized! There is much wonderful beauty hidden in the world, and every people and every station in life has its share.
"'I had to add postscripts to two letters announcing the death of those in whose name they were written. One was the son of honored parents, and the other was himself the head of a family, and leaves four children.
"'Midnight. – I could not write further. Now all is hushed; and I do not wish to sleep before fulfilling my duty towards you. I find it hateful, when in full health, to say, "I cannot," and, therefore, continue writing. I feel as if mother were sitting beside me and saying, "Tell my husband everything. The best remedy against fear is to know the whole truth." But I must inform you about Martella.
"'The next day. – Last night, while I was writing the last sentence, Wolfgang came. He informed me that he had told you all. I may then speak of ourselves again.'
"Richard has written me: 'Remember that you once told me you would go through the wide world with me. That may now come to pass. Through varied labors which have given entire satisfaction, I have received an offer of employment in the foreign service, and it may happen that we shall have to begin our married life in the new world. I leave my quiet study, or rather I shall not return to it. I may be able to influence the living present, and you, my good and lovely wife, shall win admiration and respect in the highest circles. I am proud to place you in life's highest stations, and for this reason I joyfully surrender my solitary, peaceful studies and long-cherished plans of scientific investigation.'
"How I replied to Richard you will see by these lines, which I copy for you without conventional modesty; they are from a second letter, in answer to mine:
"'A thousand times, I kiss your hands and press you to my heart. You are my good genius. Pardon every unpleasant thought which, in the erring past, I may have harbored against you. Even then, despite myself, my mother knew you better than I did; her blessing rests upon your head. You have liberated me and brought me back to myself; I receive all willingly from your hands.
"'How clever and how pointed are your accounts of the nothings of diplomatic life which you noticed in Paris at the house of your sister-in-law, the wife of our ambassador.
"'Pardon me that I was just a little jealous of the title of nobility, and that I thought you might regret having to change it for a plain civilian name. I thank you for scolding me so merrily about it; but I reproach myself very seriously that I could entertain such a thought for a single instant.
"'How much you are in the right! I dare not abandon my innermost convictions. Your Christian admonition has gone right to my heart: yes, I would have been doing violence to my soul.
"'Now all is bright and free within and around me. It is settled. I shall keep on the straight line marked out for me; I am born and bred a man of letters. You see clearly what I could not confess to you or myself. For your sake the glitter of life allured, and attracted me. I fondly imagined your queenly form moving among those the world call noblest; but you, my lovely wife, are greater, purer, and freer than I am. You do not wish to shine; you will live for me, and I am to live for my ideal. It is decided; I am fortified against all temptation. I shall remain true to my calling, to you, and to myself.'
"I have told you all. I hope the time is not far off when this horrible war, this killing and dying, will be but as a shadowy dream in our memories. There must be peace at last, and peace will bring home to you
"Your happy daughter,"Annette."