An Old Story of My Farming Days Volume Iii Part 10

cried a fat voice. I entered, and--well I've seen many a strange thing in my life, many a thing that has quite taken my breath away with surprise, but I never was so much astonished, so much taken aback before--there sat G.o.dfrey with his hair cut short like a reasonable mortal, and that part of his body one had formerly thought like the hollow of Mrs. Nussler's baking trough was now well rounded, and evidently on the increase; his cheeks which were pale and hollow when I first knew him were now sleek and rosy, and his full red lips seemed to say: "We always find our dinner a pleasant thing, and the teeth behind us have done their duty well." The man looked as if he liked good eating, but still one could see that he was one who did his duty to the uttermost. There was nothing untidy about him, everything was as neat and trim as possible, and in short, one saw in G.o.dfrey a specimen of hard work followed by quiet rest and good meals. Well, well. There's very little to be said about Mrs. Lina's personal appearance. She had evidently taken Mrs. Behrens as an example of what a clergyman's wife should be. "Hm!" said I to myself, "there must be something fattening in the air here."

When we had all expressed our pleasure in meeting again, we sat down, and I began to ask questions. It was from Brasig that I got to know of the story I have been telling, but Hawermann also told me a little, for he was always very kind and affectionate to me, and other things I learnt from different people whom I questioned; I wrote it all down at the time when it was fresh in my memory, and as this happened in my youth or strom, I have called the book: "Ut mine Stromtid."

G.o.dfrey gave me a great deal of information, and his wife Lina every now and then helped him with some little incident he had forgotten; when I rose to go on to Pumpelhagen--for I had also known Frank in the days of my youth--G.o.dfrey said: "Yes, go; you'll find everyone a.s.sembled there to-day, and we shall soon follow you with our three girls, the eldest of all, a boy, is at school."

I walked along the path leading from Pumpelhagen to Gurlitz church, thinking of all that I had heard. It was the old old story that has been told ever since the earth was created: Joy and sorrow, birth and death.

The first of our friends who died was Bolster, and he did not die a natural death--I do not mean that he killed himself--no indeed! One day Ruhrdanz, the weaver, came to Rexow with a loaded gun; he put a string round Bolster's neck, and led him away to the garden. The new "crown prince" followed them unnoticed, and as was afterwards said, behaved very badly, by running about yelping. A shot was fired, and then Ruhrdanz came back to the house and told his employers that Bolster had had a Christian death, for he had shot him in the shoulder instead of through the head, thinking it would be less of a shock to him. When Mrs. Nussler had given him a gla.s.s of schnaps, the weaver took up the gla.s.s slowly and drank the contents sadly; then he said, that he and the other Gurlitz labourers had been before the Rahnstadt court of justice that morning, and that they were all condemned to a year's imprisonment, besides which he was to have six months extra, for he was looked upon as the head or ring-leader of the rebellion. He left the room, but came back again to say: "Ah, Mrs. Nussler, don't forget my old woman. All the mischief comes from our having had no papers."

The next to die was Joseph himself. Ever since he had given up his farm, he had led a much busier life than before. He spent the whole day walking about the fields, generally going to the places where no work was going on, and there he would stand for a long time shaking his head and saying nothing. One Sunday, between Christmas and new year's day, when the snow was lying a foot deep over the fields, he went out to walk round the farm, and while doing so fell into one of the deep ditches. He came home quite numb with cold. Mrs. Nussler administered bucketsful of camomile tea, which he drank obediently, but next morning he said: "What can't be, can't be, mother. What must be, must be. It all depends upon circ.u.mstances, and no one can do anything in this case," and soon after that he slept away quietly. He had worked himself to death, and Mrs. Nussler thought the following words the most suitable that could be found for his epitaph: "He died at his post."

Then Moses died. The old man had lived a just and upright life, and he died as he had lived. He died true to his faith, and when he was dead, he was honoured as one of the tribe of Judah, for he was one of that tribe. David went to the funeral with a torn coat and with ashes on his head, and many Christians followed the old Jew to the grave, and saw him laid in the tomb he had made ready for himself. I firmly believe that he is now in Abraham's bosom, even though Christians also go there. Three people visited his grave the day after he was buried, and these were Hawermann and the two Mrs. von Rambow--Frida was paying a visit at Pumpelhagen--Hawermann dried the tears from his eyes as he looked down at the resting place of the old Jew, and the two ladies each put a garland of fresh flowers on it. When they were walking thoughtfully through the town meadows to Rahnstadt, Hawermann said: "He was a Jew in religion, a Christian in practice."

And now it was Henny's turn--our brave old Henny! Pomuchelskopp had gone to live in Rostock, taking with him his whole family in the blue gla.s.s coach with the coat of arms on the panel, and a string of wagons full of furniture. When trade grew better again he gained a nickname for himself. He was called 'much too cheap,' for he never lost an opportunity of telling every one who would listen to him, how sad had been his fate in selling Gurlitz, as he had done, and he always ended his story by heaving a tempestuous sigh and saying: "Much too cheap; very much too cheap!" His brave old Henny looked after the house strictly, and kept up discipline; but the devil seemed to possess all the Rostock maid servants, they would not submit to the treatment, that the Gurlitz maids had had to bear. No servant would remain for more than a week, except the cook, a Pasel, and even she turned restive, and worthless creature that she was, rebelled after being in the house three months. Henny was exasperated with such conduct, and seizing the tongs, knocked her on the head with them. The cook made no answer, for she fell down senseless on the hearth. A doctor came and talked a great deal about suffusion, &c., but the end of it was that the poor woman had to be taken to the hospital. The doctor was an honest man, so he made the case known to the authorities, and Henny had to undergo trial for her misdeeds. She could not have been touched if she had used a stick of the same length and thickness as the tongs she had handled so courageously! But tongs are not mentioned in Mecklenburg law books, so Henny was condemned, besides paying costs, and damages to the injured servant, to six weeks imprisonment. Muchel protested, appealed, supplicated, but it availed him nothing; Henny had to suffer imprisonment because of the great courage she had shown. Pomuchelskopp told everyone he could get to listen to him how unjustly his wife had been treated; he reviled the judges, and unfortunately for him, these great personages heard what he had said and gave him four weeks in jail for his evil speaking. He tried to buy himself off, but in vain; even senator Bank said: no, they would see how the coward liked his quarters. So the husband and wife occupied different parts of the same prison during the Christmas and New Year's holidays of 1852--1853; when they had been there for a fortnight, the jailer went to his wife, and said: "What a difference there is between these two people, Sophie; he walks restlessly up and down his room cursing G.o.d, and the whole world, while she sits stiff and straight in the same place and att.i.tude as when she first came here." Meanwhile Mally and Sally gave a large tea-party to their gentlemen and lady friends in honour of their parents' misfortunes, and Mr. Sussmann who had taken another place as shopman somewhere in Mill Street, of course out of compa.s.sion for his employer, was one of the guests.

As soon as our two old friends were once more free, Pomuchelskopp went to the parlour and bewailed his fate to his two daughters, and Henny made her way straight to the kitchen where she found a charwoman in command, for while she had been out of the house, a great indignation meeting had been held in Slepegrell's dancing room, when all the Rostock maid servants entered into a solemn covenant with each other, that none of them should take the Pomuchelskopp's place. That was the reason of the charwoman being there. "What do you get a day?" asked Henny. "One and four pence," was the answer. Henny s.n.a.t.c.hed up the tongs, but presently bethought herself of what had happened on the last occasion. The effort of restraining herself was too great; she was taken ill upon the spot; in three days she was dead, and in other three days she was buried. Neither Pomuchelskopp nor his two daughters know where she lies, and whenever they are asked their invariable answer is: "Over there,--she is buried over there." Gustavus, who is now a farm bailiff, and who often goes to town on business, is the only one who knows the place. He sometimes takes one of the little ones with him, and showing him the grave, he says: "Look, Chris; that's where our mother lies."

I have been obliged to relate a great many sad events, and am not nearly done yet; but why should I not tell some of the pleasant things I also heard at the parsonage. For many a long year there was much happiness in the house that had been built for the widows of the clergymen of Gurlitz. Mrs. Behrens would sit at the window in the evenings looking at her husband's grave, and ah, how often she longed to go to him; then, when Dorothy brought in the lamp, she turned away from the window, and seeing the old furniture, the old pictures, and even the duster lying in its old place, she would recall to her memory how she and her pastor used to sit under those pictures and look at the homely objects she saw around her, and she was glad to live. Hawermann worked and laboured diligently; no longer for strangers, but for his children and his children's children, for Louisa had several pretty little girls. Once he had a pleasant surprise. Fred Triddelfitz came to see him--of course he was dressed in a blue surtout--accompanied by the little member of the women's council, and told him that he had a good estate in Pomerania, and that he was engaged to little Anna. He talked a great deal to Hawermann that evening about his arrangements, and when he was gone, Brasig said: "You were right again, Charles--but who would have thought it? Your grey hound has become a sensible man, but don't you crow over that as your doing, it was Anna not you who reformed him," As for Brasig himself, he employed himself in going about the country and picking up news. Now he was at Rexow, now at Pumpelhagen, and now at Rahnstadt, but his favourite place of resort was Hohen-Selchow. He went there nearly every three months, and when he came home he said: "All's going on well, Charles, he has quite given up farming, and spends his day in the barn inventing. His inventions are no good of course; but Bremer says that he couldn't wish for a better master, and Mrs. von Rambow's as happy and contented as a blessed angel in Paris. But Charles, Mr. von Rambow's by no means stupid. He has invented something that I mean to adopt. This is it. Take an old hat, cut a good sized hole in the front of it and put a small lantern inside, and then you may ride as safely by night as by day." Brasig was as good as his word, and really made use of Alick's discovery, the effect of which was to terrify all the people he happened to meet. But once when he was at Hohen-Selchow he had an attack of gout that would have been of little consequence, but which seized both legs and then mounted into his stomach, because of a chill he got on his journey home. And that caused his death.

Mrs. Behrens, Mrs. Nussler, and his old friend Charles Hawermann came round his bed, and Mrs. Behrens asked: "Dear Brasig, shall I not send for the young parson."--"No, don't, Mrs. Behrens. You've called me an old heathen all my life long; perhaps I was wrong in acting as I have, but oh, how I always hated methodistical twaddle..... It's better to leave me alone, and I like it better so. Charles, remember that my sister's child, Lotta, is to have 300, and the rest of my money is to go to the Rahnstadt school; for, Charles, Mrs. Behrens has enough to live on, and so have you, but my heart aches for the poor little school-children. Mrs. Nussler has to live, my G.o.d-child Mina has to live, you have to live, Charles, and you all have to live, while I have to die." Soon after that he became delirious, and his mind went back to the time of his boyhood; he thought he was herding his father's sheep, and that an old ram was giving him great trouble, so he called Mrs.

Nussler to help him, and she seated herself on his bed and supported him in her arms. He then began to talk of his three sweethearts, and Mrs. Nussler, saying over and over again that it was she alone he had really loved, and Mrs. Nussler, kissed the words away from his mouth: "I know that, Brasig; my dear old Zachariah, I know that," she said.

His delirium grew worse, and he spoke of his having been appointed a.s.sessor--of the law of evidence--of young Mr. von Rambow and Lake Lauban, and of his having thrown the pistol into the water, and of having lost four pence on a wager. And then a wonderful light came over his face as he told his dear old love, Mrs. Nussler, stories about the twins, especially Mina, and of Charles Hawermann and Louisa, but all confusedly and mixed up together. He held Mrs. Nussler's hand tight all the while. Suddenly he raised himself and said: "Mrs. Nussler, please put your hand on my head; I have always loved you. Charles Hawermann, will you rub my legs, they're so cold." Hawermann did as he was asked, and Brasig said very slowly with one of his old smiles: "In style I was always better than you." That was all.

Our dear little Mrs. Behrens was not long in following him.--There are very few people who are happy here on earth, and who are yet quite happy to die. She was one of the few, she was perfectly satisfied with her lot here below, but whenever she thought of the world above, a picture of old times came into her mind, and the happy sound of old days rang in her ears, for she always imagined Heaven to be like a pretty little village church, where the angels sang and her pastor preached. She is now with him once more, and let us think of her as putting on his gown and bands for him and singing with him in the heavenly quire; not "songs for the dying," as of yore, but "songs of the Resurrection."

As I was thinking over all of these events, I turned the corner of the path at the arbour where so many of the Pumpelhagen family had sat in their hour of sorrow, and I saw three little girls of from four to eleven years old playing on the gra.s.s. A lady with a kind, gentle, and happy face was seated in the arbour sewing, she let her work fall into her lap, and smiling at the little girls threatened them with her finger, saying: "There can be too much of a good thing." Beside her was a strong active looking man reading a newspaper. He put the paper down and shook his head as much as to say that he could not attend to it just then. A little further off sat an old man with a small maiden of twelve years old leaning against his knee, he interrupted her childish chatter to say to the lady: "Let them make as much noise as they like, Louie, they'll be only too apt to grow steady and wise before their time."--When I got quite round the corner the old man exclaimed: "Bless me! Isn't that?"--And Frank and Louisa came forward to welcome me, and Frank said: "That's right, Fritz, I am glad that you've come to see us."--I said: "My Louisa," for my wife's name is Louisa, "wishes to be very kindly remembered to you, Mrs. von Rambow."--And then there was a great deal of talk amongst us for a little while, but our pleasure did not last long, for suddenly there was noise and rus.h.i.+ng in the garden as if the wild huntsman and his pack had broken loose, and I saw running towards us four boys with brown eyes and brown cheeks, grey trousers and grey jackets. A tiny little lad of six rushed up to Frank, threw his arms round his knees, and shouted over his shoulder: "I'm first!"--"Yes," said another, who might perhaps be twelve years old, "I should think so, for you ran through the meadow; but I say what a mess you're in! Won't mother scold you!"--The little fellow looked down at his trousers, and certainly if his mother was satisfied, he might be so too.--"Won't your parents be here soon?"--"Yes," said the eldest, "They're just behind us. Our grandmother's coming too, and Mrs. von Rambow, who arrived at our house yesterday evening."--"What, Frida!"

cried Louisa. "I'm so glad!"--A few minutes later, Rudolph and Mina came in sight, and they might be said to resemble the noontide of a beautiful day, when the sunlight is brightening the landscape far and wide, when the shadows are short, and when men pull off their coats that they may work better and more easily. Rudolph is now a man of weight amongst his colleagues, for he has not only given up the old system of farming, which in many respects was a mistaken one, but makes money by the change for himself and teaches others to follow his example, thus benefitting the whole land. Behind them came Mrs. Nussler and Frida. Mrs. von Rambow looked round her half sadly when she reached the arbour, and after the first words of welcome, Louisa said to her eldest daughter: "Frida, bring your aunt a chair," for she remembered that Mrs. von Rambow had once said that she disliked sitting on the bench where she had been so miserable.--Mrs. Nussler went to Hawermann and asked: "How are you, brother Charles?"--"Very well, thank you," shouted Hawermann, for his sister had grown very deaf. "And you?"--"Very well except for my deafness. You say that must have been caused by a chill. But, how did I get a chill without knowing it? I'll tell you, Charles, it comes from Joseph's having talked so much during the last years of his life, that he must have strained my ears. He couldn't help it you know, it was his nature to talk."--Parson G.o.dfrey now arrived with Lina and three children. The children all played together while their parents talked. Towards evening tables were spread in the open air, one for the parents alone, and one for the children.

Louisa's eldest daughter managed everything at the children's table, and grandfather Hawermann looked after the other, and they both acted on a different plan from that of our old acquaintance Henny. How kind and gentle they all were that day at Pumpelhagen.--While we were all enjoying ourselves at supper we saw some one coming up the garden path.

It was Fred Triddelfitz accompanied by his little wife. Everybody jumped up to welcome them, and for a few minutes there was a regular fire of questions and answers. Suddenly that monster Fred Triddelfitz caught sight of me, and asked: "How did you get here, Fritz?"--"And how did you get here?" I asked in my turn.--"Why, Fritz, I hav'n't seen you for seven cold winters," he said.--"Nor I you, Fred," I replied.--And so we went on Fritzing and Fredding each other till everyone was laughing at us.--"Fritz," he asked, "do you still write books?"--"Yes, Fred, I've got a whole heap of my books now."--"Well then, Fritz, do me a favour; I entreat of you _not_ to bring me into one of your books."--"Ah," I said, "I can't gratify you there, Fred, for I've got you in one already."--"What am I doing in it?" he asked quickly.--"You're at the '_randyvoo_' in the great ditch, you know."--"What's that?" asked Louisa, who was sitting opposite me.--Frank laughed heartily and said: "I'll tell you afterwards."--"No, no," cried Fred.--"What's the meaning of all this?" asked Anna, looking first at me, Fritz Reuter, and then at her husband, Fred Triddelfitz.--I was silent, and he said: "I'll tell you another time."

Old grandfather Hawermann laughed aloud. When we were alone together after supper, Fred laid his hand on my arm, and asked: "Who told you about the rendez-vous?"--"Brasig," I answered.--"So I thought," he said, "well, Brasig was the chief actor in the whole story."--"You're right there," I replied.

Perhaps I may be asked: Where are Pumpelhagen, Gurlitz and Rexow? You will look for them in the map in vain, and yet they are in Germany; indeed I hope that they may be found in more than one district of our fatherland. Pumpelhagen is wherever a n.o.bleman lives who thinks no higher of himself than of his fellowmen, who looks upon the lowest of his labourers as his brethren, and who works with and for them. Gurlitz is wherever a clergyman is to be found who preaches what he believes to be the truth, but who is not self-sufficient enough to expect that his people should hold the faith exactly as he holds it; who makes no difference between rich and poor, and who is not contented with preaching alone, but who works amongst his people, helping and counselling them whenever it is needful. Rexow is wherever a middle-cla.s.s man labours to increase the knowledge and usefulness of others, as well as his own, and who thinks more of the good of those amongst whom he lives than of heaping up riches. Wherever these three places are bound to each other by the love of sweet tender-hearted women and merry children, the three villages may be found close together.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: _Translator's note_. Muschuken (from monsieur) is the Mecklenburg name for rusks.]

[Footnote 2: _Translator's note_. One of the Chauffeurs who infested the Rhineland.]

[Footnote 3: _Translator's note_. A corruption of "injuriarum."]

[Footnote 4: _Translator's note_. Wer niemals einen Rausch gehabt, das ist kein braver Mann, &c. &c.]

[Footnote 5: _Translator's note_. Bowl is made of wine, water, herbs and fruit highly iced.]

THE END.