CHAPTER VI
The very same day, a messenger arrived from the Counciller's wife, to call me, and I drove to the city with Joseph and Ludwig. From afar, we heard the booming of cannon, and at the new saw-mill the lumber merchant Schwarzenberg, an ever-faithful patriot, told me: "We have an Emperor; he has been proclaimed at Versailles." This was as it should be. Our great achievements in war were consecrated by the establishment of the German Empire.
Ludwig was dissatisfied because the celebration was held on a Prussian anniversary. He had to acknowledge, however, that the history of Prussia now glided into that of Germany, and that it was not improper thus to exalt a family festival.
O fortunate posterity! you can never know or appreciate our feelings during those days. We had long cherished these aspirations for our country, for a United Germany; the less we could hope for their realization, the deeper they lay in our hearts. Patriotism was like religious martrydom. Our country did not return our love. On the contrary, it was requited by hate and persecution from those high in station, and by neglect and ridicule from the lowly. And, in spite of all, for more than fifty years we stood firm and true, without hope of reward.
In the city, the bells were ringing and all the houses were decorated with flags. The Councillor's wife received us on the stairs and said, "Welcome, great-grandfather! Martha has given birth to a son."
How can I express the emotions that filled my heart! My country united under a powerful, victorious chief, and on the same day a great-grandchild born to me. How can I deserve such unspeakable bliss!
I was allowed to speak to Martha for a minute, and to take my great-grandson in my arms. He opened his eyes, and Martha cried, "He has his grandmother's eyes. When at Strasburg, Julius asked that his name should be Erwin."
The Councillor's wife ordered her to be quiet, adding: "You can now be perfectly happy; the conflict is over, and your husband returns full of honors. You are blessed indeed, and we are blessed through you. Sleep now; when you really want to sleep, you can do so."
I had to leave the room; and, after a while, the new grandmother came to tell me that Martha was sleeping quietly.
I remained in the city. The grandfather came for a day, and told me that he agreed with Julius, who, as he had so greatly distinguished himself, wished to remain in the military service.
My eyes have looked upon the third generation; I was also to see the dream of my youth realized in the establishment of the German Empire, and my family had fairly done their share towards it. But our joys are never unalloyed. No tree in the forest has an uninterrupted growth. A raven comes, rests on its top, and bends and blights the tender sapling.
Yes, a raven of misfortune came. A letter from Annette reported, in a few hasty words, that Richard had disappeared, and that he had probably fallen into the hands of the franc tireurs. There was still some hope of his life. She had started out with Wolfgang to hunt him up. Wolfgang, being an American citizen, could get through the lines. She asked us to move heaven and earth to save Richard. In a postscript, she reminded me of the wounded French officer whom she was nursing when I searched for the Colonel. How wonderful! every good deed meets its reward. The officer had given her a pass, from which she promised herself the best results.
Ludwig was not for a moment alarmed by the danger into which his only son had ventured. He had full confidence in Wolfgang's discretion, and his words were full of assurance that he would not be found wanting.
I believe that this confidence was genuine, but I also believe that he tried, for my sake, to mitigate the shock which the news about Richard had given me.
It puzzled me how Richard, who did not belong to the combatants, could be captured by the enemy; but Ludwig stopped all brooding over it by saying: "Father, will you accompany me to the capital? I wish to see our ambassador; he must give me all possible assistance."
In the capital, all the bells were ringing, and at the railroad station "extras" were announced with the Emperor's proclamation. In the midst of a group of people in the street stood a man reading the words of the Emperor. I knew him; it was Loedinger. His voice trembled; and when he had finished, and the joyful crowd marched through the streets, he saw me and embraced me heartily.
"What have we lived to see?" he cried. "Now we can die in peace. But what is the matter with you? Why do you not cheer with us?"
I told him, in a few words, of the capture of my son, and the worst fears which it justified.
Ludwig went at once to his ambassador, and I to the palace to see the Prince, who would doubtless use his influence for the rescue of my son. In the palace, there was great commotion. They said that no message could be taken to the Prince now, as he was presiding at a session of the Privy Council. I had to wait a long while. In the streets, the rejoicing went on; it could be faintly heard from afar. The whole city was illuminated.
At last I was told that the Prince could not see me today; I must leave my petition with the chief of the Cabinet. He was a relative of my son-in-law, and was favorably inclined towards me. He said that from there no effective steps could be taken; that it was the business of the Imperial government, and that I should address myself to the Prussian ambassador, to whom he gave me a few lines. I felt like a beggar who is sent from house to house.
At the Prussian Embassy, I was informed that the American Minister was attending a conference, and that there was a stranger with him.
I was called in, and found Ludwig with the two ambassadors. All necessary steps had already been agreed upon, and dispatches were at once forwarded to Versailles.
We drove to the station in the American Minister's coach, and Ludwig started for France, at once.
I went to Bertha, and, in spite of the new trouble that poured in upon me, I felt somewhat relieved when with my daughter and her children. Victor looked splendidly in his cadet uniform. Bertha met me with outstretched arms, saying, "Father, we shall soon have peace, and he is now almost a general."
It was not the least part of my sorrow that I had to inform Bertha of our deep anxiety for Richard. In the gladness of her heart, she ascribed it all to the exaggerated fears of Annette. The human heart is selfish; in moments of great happiness it wants to hear nothing of the sorrows of others, and refuses to believe them.
I was compelled to mar the joy of the proud, loving wife; and when Bertha too was filled with alarm, she pitied Annette even more than her brother. She thought it particularly hard that Annette, who was so good and self-sacrificing, should again and again be overwhelmed with sorrow. She believed that Richard had loved Annette before the death of her husband, and that his repentance and severity towards himself caused him to be so bitter to her. He struggled with his love for the woman on whom his eyes had rested with admiration at a time when such admiration was sinful.
On the other hand her natural good humor and buoyancy of spirits made her confident that Richard would surely soon be saved. Richard always was a lucky fellow. She remembered, from childhood, that once while I was coming down the river on a raft with my raftsmen, Richard stood on shore, and, crying "Father!" rushed out into the stream till the water came up to his chin. Balbina ran to the rescue, and, when he was safely ashore he laughed heartily. He had not been conscious of danger or fear.
While Bertha recalled all this, I became more tranquil, and when she expressed her confident hope that we would not live to see another war, I heartily agreed with her.
CHAPTER VII
It was well that I had come up to the capital, for Parliament had been convoked, in order to consider the new constitution, or rather, the question of giving in our adhesion to the North German Confederation.
I scarcely heard the speeches, and did not have the strength to take the floor myself.
When a vote was at last reached, it went hard with me to vote "aye." In spite of my joy that there was now a United Germany, I had labored too long for the establishment of German landed rights, to content myself without their being embodied in laws.
I was deeply moved by a remark of my old and faithful colleague, Loedinger: "I fear that in the new German constitution, it will only be too evident that the movement which brought it about, was not initiated by the people."
We heard from Annette and Wolfgang, who wrote that they had at last obtained a clue to aid them in the search for Richard. He had, for a long time, been dragged about the country, and had then been sent to the Isles d'Hyéres.
Now, for the first time, I learned the details of his capture. Richard had crossed our lines into the enemy's country, being tempted to do so by a desire to investigate certain points of local history. He was arrested by the franc tireurs, who took him for a spy and wanted to shoot him. It was only through the interference of a man who was able to read Richard's journal that he was saved from instant death.
This was all they had been able to discover, up to the arrival of Ludwig, who sent Wolfgang home, and continued the search with Annette.
They were often led astray, and shown prisoners whom they did not know. They would have liked to console and encourage them by the news of the progress of our victorious armies and the certainty of a speedy peace, but they dared not risk it.
Ludwig added to his letter minute directions concerning the mill.
We were now perfectly safe in pushing the enterprise forward, as Bourbaki's forces had been driven into Switzerland and disarmed.
I could not content myself at the capital, and journeyed homewards. On the way, I met Baron Arven, who had returned from the field seriously ill, and who hoped to regain his health at home. I accompanied him, and found some pleasure in bearing him company in his deserted mansion-his wife was in Rome, both his sons still in the field. "I shall die at home after all," was his invariable answer whenever we attempted to console him. Our excellent physician prepared me for the worst. I was with Arven in his last hour, and was present when his remains were deposited in the family vault.
Joseph came to take me home.
In war times, one's feelings at last become familiarized with death scenes.
I soon again was called upon to take a part in public life.
The election campaign opened. Remminger, who had returned from the field to get cured of severe rheumatism, brought me the paper which represented our party. In it, he was recommended as delegate to the Reichstag from our district, as a man of merit, and of experience in military matters. I did not begrudge him the honor, nor the office. It gave his life a greater value, though I did not know that he ever took any part in political matters, or even showed any desire in that direction.
I thought it remarkable that in the article, particular stress was laid on the fact, that he was a friend and former comrade of my son-in-law, who had so greatly distinguished himself in the three days' battle against Bourbaki.
What motive could there have been for referring to that fact? However, if it could be of any use to the man, I was content.
He asked me whether I had had any hand in the publication of the article. He had never thought of taking part in politics, but if the place were offered him, he would not shirk the duty. I heard that the article was supposed to have emanated either from Joseph or myself.
We inquired at the office, and were informed that the nomination had been sent in with the stamp of our nearest post-office, and with a rather indistinct signature, which might well be Joseph's.
Joseph asserted that Funk was the author. I did not believe it, because the entire article did not contain a single superlative. He never could, even while writing, restrain his peculiar talent for screaming.
Great thoughts stirred the hearts of men, but littleness, cunning, and mischief-making had not ceased either. But what matters it? A tree grows all the same, whether ants and beetles crawl upon it or not.
A second article shortly afterward appeared in the country papers, in which it was said that military despotism had unmasked its batteries. But the people were awake; the people, who did not pray to the god whose name is Success; but were true to their own eternal aims and ideas. The clamor of victory must not drown the cries for liberty. We still had approved champions in our midst; our district still owned an independent man of large landed property; he should be deputy; they should be made to see at Berlin what plain, strong men tilled our land.
Joseph asserted that the papers of the popular party wanted to draw me to their side. There were inquiries in the journals from different quarters as to who was meant by "the firm man of solid worth," until he was named at last. It was Schweitzer-Schmalz. As usual, it was claimed that South Germany was the only real Germany, just as peasants were said to be the only genuine people. To-day, the peasants; to-morrow, perhaps the so-called laborer. The red waistcoat of Schweitzer-Schmalz was to do service as the popular flag.
Joseph was filled with anger and disgust, and I urged him to accept the nomination himself. He had much influence, and there were few other men in the district so well thought of as he.
I can say much in Joseph's favor; he wishes to see the state honestly served; but he also likes to attend to his business. Just then, Joseph had indeed a heavy load to carry. He had brought a large squad of foresters from the Tyrol, and had to provide several new teams.
We heard that Schweitzer-Schmalz had, at first, declined the proffered offer; but when he found the election was not to cost him any money, only some little condescension towards the poorer people, a few casks of beer, and, more than all else, strong language against military dictation, he declared his readiness. He was plain spoken, and yet cunning enough to declare, at the valley tavern, that, if he should be defeated it would be more of an honor than a disgrace to him. People would then always say, "Here is the man who ought to have been our deputy at the Reichstag. He is a man of the right sort."
The movement continued. It was a sorrowful spectacle for me, to see how the domestic enemies of the Empire inscribed our Frankfort Constitution on their flag, and cried that it must be accepted without debate. What should be done in case it was not accepted, they would not say; they knew as well as we did, that the adoption of the constitution of 1848 was an impossibility. But they wanted to start an opposition, and to surround it with a halo of glory.
On the last day of February, we received the news that the preliminaries of peace were agreed upon, and our German Emperor announced, "We have arrived at the end of the glorious but bloody war which was so wantonly and wickedly forced upon us."
We who lived on the borders were delighted beyond measure to know that Alsace-Lorraine had been brought home to us again; and when I was speaking with my folks about it, Rothfuss remarked:
"Now I know how it worked. Those who live along the Rhine, from Basle downward, felt the way you do, when you lie abed in winter time and have too narrow a blanket. Whenever you move, you are uncovered and get cold. Now we have a good double bed; now we can stretch ourselves, and, over there, stand the Vosges mountains; that is a good solid wall; no draft gets through that."
CHAPTER VIII
The ides of March had returned as they had twenty-three years before, but how different now! We stood on a basis of real power, which had been wrested in battle from our restless neighbor.
The armistice with the enemy without was concluded, but at the polls we had to struggle against adversaries within.
The best men of our district came and explained to me how false a game was being played. "They are electioneering for Schweitzer-Schmalz, who would not be so bad a man, but, at the last moment, they mean to drop him and transfer the votes to Funk, who has acquired a considerable fortune by the war."
The men urged me, and Schwarzenberg, the lumber merchant, was not the least among them, to allow myself to be put up as a candidate, both as a matter of right and duty. He claimed that I, who had assisted at the vexatious and fruitless labors at Frankfort, should have the nomination. Only in that way, could the defeat of the Funk party be assured.
I told them what trouble I had, and that I was too old, and unequal to the duties the office would impose upon me.
Then the burgomaster of Kaltenbach, a quiet, worthy man, reminded me that I had often said one should drown domestic griefs in active labors for the Fatherland. He bade me consider what would become of us Germans, if we should fail to secure true unity.
Those who had fallen in France, would, in that case, be disgraced and dishonored by the result.
I could not yield, in spite of all that was said; and Joseph asked me, "If Richard is saved, will you consent?"
"I do not make vows!"
"I did not mean it in that way; but would your mind be sufficiently at ease?"
I asked for time to consider the matter.
There was to be a meeting of electors on the next evening. I was alone, buried in thought; but soon a true and encouraging companion arrived. It was a letter, the handwriting of which I did not recognize; but when I had broken the seal and read the signature, I seemed to hear the voice of sincerity itself-it was a letter from Doctor Wilhelmi, of Berlin.
Ludwig had already informed me that Wilhelmi had returned years ago, and I had heard of his labors with genuine delight. I had often wished to send him a word of cheer, but had not found the opportunity. Now he wrote:
"All hail! thus do I salute you in your forest home. And now let me tell you all about ourselves. My wife and other ladies are at work day and night at the railroad depots, providing the troops, and particularly the sick and wounded ones, with refreshments. One day, a large body of prisoners arrived in charge of one of your country people. My wife observed this as soon as he opened his mouth, and asked him about you. The man had been servant to a sullen and ill-natured forester in your neighborhood, and you may imagine how glad we were to hear of you. For years I have often read your name, and often intended to write to you; now, a messenger had come to us from you.
"We provided him with quarters. He is really becoming spoiled by our friends, for the Berlin folks find the Suabian dialect 'charming, delightful,' and your countryman is a rogue.
"He outherods Herod; speaks the dialect more emphatically than ever Suabian did before, and, when his bravery is praised (he has received many orders) is condescending enough to confess, 'We did not do everything; the Prussians too behaved quite decently.'
"'Quite decently,' is the highest compliment your countrymen ever bestow on any one. When the man gets home he will tell you that the Berlinese are all angels. I sincerely trust that you, too, will soon make their acquaintance.
"How are your children? above all, the daughter who was with you in Strasburg years ago.
"I hear that Ludwig is with you. Tell him to remain; we need men like him.
"What has become of the handsome boy, Arndt's favorite, who was with us in Frankfort? And what of the young student who came to visit us there?
"Write to me, or, what would be better still, come here soon. We need old masons to build up the new state."
His wife had added a postscript saying: "When you come to Berlin, you must stay with us."
Joseph thought the best way to keep Ludwig at home would be to elect him a member of the Reichstag. He had made inquiries of an attorney in the little neighboring town, and had been told that Ludwig had not resided long enough in Germany to be eligible; but that as these were extraordinary times, the Reichstag would probably admit him.
The matter was brought before the election committee, but was not carried, as we should not be so sure of our voters if we had to go before the county a second time. The country people could with difficulty be induced to lose a work-day; the high pitch of patriotic sentiment that now obtained might not last long.
I accepted the nomination.
I have nothing to report in regard to the election campaign, except this; it was the first time we had been obliged to fight the new clerical party.
I do not like to speak of clerical machinations. France was conquered, and France was the last stay of the Papal power. Our victories had enabled the King of Italy to enter Rome. There was now an attempt to set on foot a carefully disguised opposition in our own country. A prebendary belonging to the diocese, travelled through our district, and held secret conferences with the pastors, to induce them to influence votes for a champion who had made himself notorious, by the strong language he had used.
Joseph finds out everything, and thus he soon learned that the lower clergy leaned towards the patriotic side, but that they would not risk open opposition. And, apropos of that, an amusing story was in circulation.
The prebendary asked the sleek and wily pastor of Rottenhoch, "And how do matters stand in your village? What are you able and willing to do?"
"Whatever the Right Reverend Bishop commands, shall be done."
The Right Reverend turned and twisted as best he might: but the priest could not be made to understand that his superiors desired to avoid giving explicit orders; and the others, who saw that the attempts to secure his compliance always elicited the same reply, bit their tongues to keep from laughing outright.
It was the first Sunday after Easter, on a bright spring day, when my friends came to take me to the meeting of the voters.
Rothfuss went with Carl, the young meadow-farmer, and said, "Yes, Carl, you are lucky; you begin in your young days. This is the first chance I have ever had to tell our man what he should say to the Emperor for me. But it is a good thing after all; and mind what I tell you-before the election we will only take one drink; not a drop more."
At the same time, he swore at the workmen at the mill, who had allowed themselves to be influenced by Funk. He declared that they were even capable of voting against me. Carl said that, as far as his two brothers were concerned, it was true. They had been expelled from Alsace, had received employment in Ludwig's mill, and now publicly said that they would give their votes to Funk.
At the meeting, it happened just as Joseph had predicted. Schweitzer-Schmalz stepped forward and declared that a man like himself could not leave his large estate and go to Berlin; they should, therefore, give the votes intended for him, to that intrepid man of the people-Funk.
But now something happened that took us all by surprise. Funk mounted the rostrum. He laid it down that a constitution without fundamental rights was a farce, and it cut me to the quick when he dared to add, "We uphold the old German flag-the sacred flag of freedom-immaculate, and shall not desert our colors."
In conclusion, he said. "I implore you not to call on me now. The time will come when they must call us to save our liberties; that time has not yet arrived.
"For the present, we will leave the pseudo-Prussian to the undisturbed enjoyment of the national beggars' broth filled with imperial dumplings, which is being served up in the famous spiked helmet.
"I thank you," he cried, when the yelling which followed this speech had somewhat abated, "for the votes with which you honor me. I esteem them highly, but we must wait. So let us bide our time."
Joseph prevented me from answering. He mounted the stand, and said that Herr Funk deserved all possible praise for his shrewdness. He knew that he could not be successful, and had therefore declined, in order to try his chances at some future time. "Herr Funk waits; we, too, can wait."
I was elected by a large majority; and the walk homeward, surrounded by my electors, was one of the happiest hours of my life. It was even more joyful than when, twenty-three years earlier, I was elected a delegate to Frankfort. I forgot my anxiety about Richard.
When I took leave of Rothfuss at the railway station, he held me by the hand, a long while, and said: "Oh master, if it was only not so far to Berlin, you should have taken me along, anyhow. Keep yourself well, right well; and don't drink any water; Willem says there is good wine to be had at Berlin, too."
A tear glistened in his eye, and the leave-taking from this faithful companion moved me deeply. He had never before been so anxious and concerned about me.
Many friends told me, "This new labor will wear you out."
Be it so, I am here to be of use.