Tales from the German.

Volume I.

by Carl Franz van der Velde.

PREFACE.

Most men, whatever the nature of their avocations, have, or may have, occasional hours of leisure and relaxation. To spend those hours profitably as well as pleasantly, should be a study: to spend them harmlessly, is a duty. Among other recent employments of the little leisure afforded me by absorbing official occupations, has been an attempt to gain some knowledge of the language and literature of Germany; and among the results of that attempt, are ma.n.u.script translations of several pleasant and interesting tales from various German authors, some of which I have been led to suppose might prove acceptable to our reading public. Those now presented are taken almost at random from the thirteen volumes of Van der Velde's works, of which they are a fair specimen. Their princ.i.p.al value consists in their faithful ill.u.s.tration of interesting portions of history not generally familiar. They have, besides, the merit of a peculiarly simple and unpretending style, that gives them an additional charm, and which I have endeavored to preserve in the translation. Whether that endeavor has been successful, however, and whether the English dress I have subst.i.tuted for the graceful German garb, is worthy of the author and suited to the public taste, are questions upon which I feel somewhat doubtful and apprehensive. Should the reader answer them in the affirmative, I shall have the consolation of feeling that the leisure devoted to the work has been harmlessly, if not profitably, employed.

It is proper to add, that in a few cases I have taken the liberty to omit some pa.s.sages, and to alter others, that were deemed incompatible with the ideas of propriety and decorum prevalent in this country.

BOSTON, NOVEMBER, 1837.

PART FIRST.

CHAPTER I.

In October of the year 1718, the royal counsellor, Nils count Gyllenstierna, was sitting before his desk in his cabinet at Stockholm.

Behind him stood Arwed, his son, a tall Swedish youth with blue eyes and golden hair, whose rosy countenance wore a decided expression of courage and resolution. The father suddenly turned his moveable chair so as to face the youth.

'One word is as good as a thousand!' cried he, angrily; 'dismiss for the present your heroic aspirations. You are too young for this war.'

'Not younger than our king was,' quickly answered Arwed, 'when he beat the Danes by Humblebeck and the Muscovites by the Narva!'

'It is a great misfortune for a land when its king is a Don Quixote,'

grumbled the senator; 'every fool in the kingdom quotes his example as authority.'

'O, do not calumniate the hero,' entreated Arwed, feelingly. 'Sweden has had no greater king since Gustavus Adolphus.'

'Nor has she had one who has brought more misery upon the land replied the senator. 'Do not suppose, my son,' proceeded he, calmly, 'that I underrate the qualifications of our lord the king. He has given proof of many, any one of which would render some other princes immortal. He is firm, liberal, brave, just, and knows how to maintain the royal dignity. But all these heroic virtues have, by excess, become more dangerous in him than would be their opposite vices. His firmness, becoming obstinacy, caused his misfortune at Pultowa and rendered him for five painful years the dependant and prisoner of the Turks; his liberality, degenerated into wastefulness, has ruined Sweden; his courage, carried in most cases to the utmost extent of foolhardiness, has led hundreds of thousands of his subjects to butchery or the Siberian mines; his justice has often become cruelty, and the maintenance of his royal prerogative, tyranny.'

'Cruelty and tyranny!' repeated Arwed. 'Surely you judge the greatest man in Europe too severely.'

'Do you remember the Livonian, Patkul?' asked the father--'Patkul, who was compelled, contrary to private right and international law, to make such dreadful atonement for what he had done in behalf of his native land? His horrible death is a dark stain upon Charles's character, and no laurel wreath will ever so conceal the deed that posterity will not discover it on the tablets of history.'

'So also are there spots upon the sun,' said Arwed with some degree of irritation. 'The spirit of the party to which you have attached yourself, my father, permits you to see only the dark side of his character.'

'My party spirit will never sway my judgment,' indignantly replied the senator. 'The true patriot is governed only by a desire to promote his country's welfare, in choosing and adhering to his party. Were the government of our king less arbitrary I would joyfully unite myself with his party; but with monarchs like him, the public good requires an opposition, and every honest-minded n.o.bleman should take his stand upon that side.'

'It does not become me to dispute with you upon such topics,' said Arwed, soothingly. 'As yet I have no voice in public affairs. My arm only is needed. To that, however, in my opinion, my country has a righteous claim; and the question now is, not whether, the king has always chosen the best course for the welfare of his realm, but whether the decision which he has now irrevocably made shall be maintained with blood and treasure. Therefore permit me to go this time, my dear father.'

'Well argued, my son,' said the elder Gyllenstierna gruffly, turning his attention again to his papers; 'but the father has a will of his own, and considers himself as much a sovereign in his own house, as Charles XII is in his kingdom. The king's sinful pa.s.sion for war has already made a sufficient number of childless parents. I will not make to it the offering of my only son.'

'What is my insignificant life in comparison with Sweden's welfare?'

cried Arwed with enthusiasm.

'Sweden's welfare!' said the father, turning towards him again. 'How can Sweden's welfare be promoted by this unholy war? Instead of attempting to regain our blessed German territories, which our enemies have divided among themselves, we go forth to the conquest of Norway, which can never repay the blood and treasure she must cost, and will never be truly loyal unless when garrisoned by our troops.'

'To me it appears to be a n.o.ble attempt,' said Arwed, 'to conquer a part of his own states from an enemy who has taken so much from us.'

'It appears so to you,' answered his father, 'because you are a young simpleton, who are dazzled by the brilliancy of the enterprise. Would to G.o.d there were not even older fools who hold the same opinions.

However wise or foolish this expedition may be, you can take no part in it. You have your answer, with which you will please retire and leave me alone. I have pressing business.'

He turned again to his table and immediately resumed his writing. Arwed remained standing there with a sad countenance, his large blue veins swelling almost to bursting. His lips were already parting to reply, but he recollected himself and left the cabinet with pa.s.sionate haste.

Startled by the loud slamming of the door, the senator peevishly turned his eyes in that direction;--near it he saw a little billet lying upon the floor, which he took up and brought to his writing table.

'A three-cornered billet,' murmured he, examining it. 'Fine gilt-edged paper, redolent of perfume,--it must be a love-letter!' He cut the delicate knot which served for a seal, and, as he read, his brows became knitted with anger. Then seizing a silver bell which lay upon the table before him, he rung it violently. 'My secretary!' cried he to the servant who answered the bell.

'Very tender,' said he, after having re-perused the note. 'An amorous intrigue at court, and yet the youth desirous of engaging in the Norwegian war! It is strange--but it pleases me.'

Brodin, the count's secretary, an old, true, experienced, hereditary servant, now stepped softly into the cabinet, gently closing the door after him.

'A billet-doux, that my son has just dropped here,' cried the senator, advancing and handing the letter to him. 'It is signed with the name only of Georgina. Who is this Georgina?'

'I am not indeed so happy,' answered the secretary, with a satyr-like smile, 'as to know the christian names of all the females with whom count Arwed might possibly form tender connections. Nevertheless, I have provided myself, partly from curiosity and partly that I might be enabled to answer inquiries, with a genealogical list of those ladies now resident at Stockholm, from which some pertinent information may perhaps be gained. Fortunately I have the list now with me, if your excellency will condescend to make present use of it,--however, I cannot guarantee that you will find there the Georgina in question, as the taste of my lord, your son, like that of other young cavaliers, may possibly have led him into a lower circle, of which hitherto I have been unable to find any tolerably correct catalogue.'

'Produce it!' cried the senator, with ill-humor;--and the secretary drew forth his geneological list.

'H-m, h-m,' hummed he, perusing it. 'I cannot find any Georgina, and yet the name must be very common at Stockholm. '_Eureka_!' he suddenly exclaimed; 'here stands a Georgina! but whether it be the right one must be determined by further evidence.'

'Come, be expeditious!' impatiently cried old Gyllenstierna.

'Georgina Henrike Dorothea Baroness von Goertz,' read Brodin, 'daughter of George Heinrich Freiherrn von Goertz, privy counsellor and lord marshal of the duke of Holstein Gottorp Durchlaucht, and temporary prime minister and director of the finance commission of his royal Swedish majesty.'

'He is out of his senses!' loudly exclaimed Gyllenstierna, interrupting his secretary in his tedious narration. 'The maiden is yet but a mere child!'

'According to my notes, past fourteen,' replied the secretary; 'but she looks as if she were eighteen. She has been confirmed this year at the time of Easter; and has thereby acquired, as it were, a privilege in regard to such love affairs; besides, she is the only Georgina among the ladies of this capital.'

'Indeed!' cried the senator, 'the youth flies high--that cannot be denied, and is most gratifying to me. But a Goertz! Never!'

Startled by the vehemence of this _never_, the secretary shrunk back for a moment--but, again approaching his master, 'might I presume,'

said he, submissively, in favor of the count Arwed, 'to state that a connection with the family of the premier cannot diminish the l.u.s.tre of the house of Gyllenstierna, but on the contrary must conduce greatly to its advantage.'

'Heigh, heigh, Brodin!' exclaimed old Gyllenstierna. 'Have you grown gray at court and yet understand no better how to make skilful combinations? Could I forgive this foreigner that he has foisted himself upon Sweden, that he rules her as tyrannically as her sovereign himself, and that he would willingly grind her in the dust with his chimerical experiments--yet would sound policy forbid every connection with his family. His authority is ephemeral. He stands with the king and must fall with him. The _living_ Charles might venture to send his boot to Stockholm to preside in the council instead of himself. The minister of the _deceased_ Charles will have a difficult task--and will be compelled to exert himself to save honor and life in the catastrophe which will doubtless occur.'

'Our royal master is yet but thirty-six years of age,' observed Brodin: 'and is a giant in mental and physical strength.'

'But he daily sets his life upon a cast in the dangerous game of war,'

answered Gyllenstierna. 'Instead of avoiding personal danger, as a royal commander should, he seeks it more recklessly than the lowliest soldier of his army. No, that guaranty is very unsafe. It would be folly to confide in the fortunate star of Goertz, and senselessly bind myself to him by the ties of blood. Arwed must give up his foolish love.'

'That,' said Brodin, rubbing his hands, 'will be likely to be rendered difficult by the headstrong disposition of the young lord.'

'I am aware of it,' said Gyllenstierna. 'Yet when I have the will and the power, I never suffer an interruption of my course. Arwed has just now been soliciting leave to join the Norwegian expedition. He shall set off for Norway this very night, and thus will his attention be directed to other affairs.'