CHAPTER I.

Trumpets sounded, drums rolled, and songs from thousands of voices were heard in the valley and on the hills. All was joyous commotion. Thus, singing, does a nation take the field for its protection and salvation.

In the midst of anxiety for great things, for one's country, we ought to be troubled by no mere personal cares. But who can avoid them? The general sorrow is infinitely divided, and every one must bear his share.

That my son-in-law, two grandchildren, and a faithful servant had gone to face the dangers of the battlefield, was a sorrow like that which many thousands besides myself had to bear. What a heavy burden is that borne by the lonely widow down by the rock! But the knowledge that one child is already in the whirlpool of trouble, and is dragging another after him--that has been given to me alone. How often it occurred to me at that time: had my wife but lived to see the uprising of our Fatherland! It was better thus. She was spared the sight of our youngest son enrolled in the enemy's ranks. That phrase from the Bible, which, when thinking of her, I had so often consoled myself with, remained true: "But for the elect those days shall be shortened." Why had Rautenkron, after keeping his story so long to himself, now divulged it? Had the secret become too burdensome? And why did he cast the load on me? Enough, I had to overcome it.

The presence of my son-in-law had given me new courage, and I agreed with Rothfuss, who said, "When the Colonel is about, every one is more erect in his movements. Yes, he commands even when he says nothing."

I had never seen the Colonel thus. Such joviality beamed from his face that a glance from him was strengthening and rea.s.suring. His only fear was that a premature peace might be concluded with the insolent successor of the tyrant, before all was decided by battle!

Our village and the entire neighborhood were in commotion while the regiment was quartered there. They even constructed a redoubt on Silvertop.

My son-in-law confided to me that the redoubt was perhaps unnecessary, but that his men would lose their good qualities if allowed to lounge about idly; he also hoped that the news of their doings would spread across the Rhine.

The peasants became refractory, and appointed a deputation, and among them was their ruler, the meadow farmer. They said that they had not forgotten how dreadfully the French had behaved in 1796, on account of the building of a fortification in the neighborhood. But the Colonel announced that whoever opposed any military ordinance, would be brought before a court-martial and shot forthwith. From that moment my son-in-law received the name of "Colonel Forthwith." Several of the most notable farmers from the neighboring valley, earnest, patriotic men, led by the burgomaster of Kalkenbach, wanted me to help them to an interview with the colonel. They complained that a young lieutenant wanted to destroy the bridges over the creek, and that he was about to cast burning rosin and tar-barrels into the stream, without reflecting that he thereby ran the risk of setting fire to the whole valley.

The Colonel countermanded this at once. He sent small detachments. .h.i.ther and thither in all directions to build camp-fires on all the hills, leaving often only men enough about them to keep up the fires, which were visible from across the Rhine.

People were to be made to believe that a large army was collected here, and he therefore notified all the towns and villages lying far beyond our valley, of the fact that large numbers of soldiers would be quartered there. On the houses they would chalk the number of men and of horses that were to be provided for. To judge by appearances, it seemed as if hundreds of thousands were at hand.

The Colonel asked Rothfuss if he knew any French sympathizers. He evidently wished that the French should get the most alarming news from us. Rothfuss thought that Funk would be his man; but when my son-in-law consulted me about Funk, I dissuaded him from employing such an instrument. Rothfuss then brought us the news that a journeyman baker from Alsace, who had worked for Lerz, was prowling around and preparing to return home.

The Colonel got Rothfuss to carry the news to this journeyman, that more than a hundred thousand men were encamped in the forest. The few pieces of artillery under his command were constantly moved from place to place, so that all were led to suppose that he had a large number of guns.

The Colonel had orders, in case the enemy should advance on us, to destroy the roads; we supposed that Napoleon's plan must be to separate North and South Germany by a sudden invasion. This was no small matter: we were the first who would have to resist the shock of the enemy's advance, and, so far as I could learn, I felt that the main forces of Germany could not furnish us with immediate protection. We would be sacrificed first, and afterwards would be helped by an offensive movement from the Middle Rhine region.

Rautenkron received, provisionally, the uniform of a hospital steward; for the Colonel was waiting for permission to enroll him. I was present when he asked Rautenkron:

"Do you speak French well?"

"Perfectly."

The Colonel whispered something to him; but Rautenkron with burning cheeks, cried:

"I can never do that; never!"

He then talked confidentially and excitedly to the Colonel; I believe he imparted to him his real name.

The Colonel then ordered him, as he was so well acquainted with the wooded heights, to attend to the further extension of the camp-fires on their tops.

Conny carefully helped in attending to the wants of the numerous garrison. The soldiers were treated in the best manner by the villagers, all of whom were anxious to do their share in the good work.

The old meadow farmer was the only one who did not show himself. He, who was always either at his door or window, and who stopped every pa.s.ser-by to have a chat which should drive dull care away, lay in his little back room and declared that he was ill.

Carl's mother, on the contrary, did not stay in her house for a minute.

She would approach one group of soldiers after another, and ask each man if he had a mother at home. And then she would begin to talk of her Carl, how he was in the lancers, and how they could hunt through every regiment and not find a better or a handsomer fellow. The two sons, who were working as carpenters, had estranged themselves from their mother.

They lived down in the valley, and did not even visit her on Sundays.

They boasted in the taverns that they could sing French songs.

While all this bustle was going on, I was constantly searching for Martella.

Rothfuss was of opinion that she had escaped in male attire; for, wherever he asked after Lerz, the baker,--he had quickly lost all traces of him, however,--he was told of a young man that had been in his company, and who would never enter the room with him.

The Colonel had, of course, no time to sympathize with my concern about Martella, and once when I spoke of her he said:

"We should be glad to be thus rid of her. Such a creature does not, after all, belong in our family. You and mother have very likely been wasting all your kindness on an unworthy person."

I did not agree with him. Yes, now at last I could understand many things in Martella' s disposition that had heretofore been mysteries to me. But I dared not talk about them, and the time to mourn for a single grief had not arrived.

CHAPTER II.

On the evening of the last day of July, the Colonel returned, heated from the effects of a long ride. A sharpshooter brought in a despatch.

He opened it, and forthwith sent his adjutant off; then he asked me to have a good bottle of wine brought up, and to sit down beside him. He confided to me that his detachment was getting ready to march, that he would move off by daylight, and that he would leave but a few men behind to attend to the campfires. I became much moved on Bertha's account, and asked the Colonel whether he had any wishes which he desired to have attended to.

"No," answered he, "my will is in the hands of Herr Offenheimer, the lawyer. But the time is come for me to speak to you, dear father, of myself. Perhaps we shall never be together again. I do not wish to leave the world and not be really understood by you."

And so, leaning back in the large chair, he began in his peculiarly sonorous, firm voice: "I do not like to speak of myself. I have learned to move through life with closed lips. You are my father, and were my comrade in a bold and hazardous undertaking. I am your pupil, although you have shown great discretion in keeping everything from me which might interfere with the profession I was to follow. Without your knowing it, I developed at an early age. When crossing the prison yard as a boy, I often saw the brother of Bertha's mother leaning against the iron bars; The picture of this refined man, with his delicate features, his large eye, his white brow, and light beard, haunted me in my dreams. Do criminals look like that? I do not know whether my childish heart put that question, but I believe it did. I stood on the balcony as they carried his body away. I saw it placed on the wagon. At that moment a feeling awoke in me that there are other and higher objects in this world than princes, discipline, parole, epaulettes, and orders.

"On that same day, I heard, for the first time, the words, _German unity_. It became a sort of secret watchword for me; of that I am sure.

My father spoke of the n.o.ble enthusiast; the post-adjutant called him a demagogue. I looked the word up in my Greek dictionary.

"I entered the military school. I learned about the Greek and Roman heroes; I heard of Socrates, and always pictured him to myself like the pale man behind the prison bars. I soon became reserved, and kept my thoughts to myself; outwardly I was obedient and punctilious. My father became commandant of the capital; as ensign, I was appointed as page to our Prince. I was present at the great festivities in honor of the sons of Louis Philippe, who were visiting our Court. I heard some one in the crowd say they were only princes of the revolution. I studied modern history in secret. The Opposition in our Parliament was also often discussed. I heard some names mentioned with derision and hate--yes, with scorn. These men were pointed out to me in the street. I did not understand how they could thus walk the streets, since they were in opposition to our Prince.

"The year 1848 came. The men that had been named with scorn became ministers of state; they were ent.i.tled the saviours of the Fatherland.

"On that 6th of August, on which we did homage to the regent Archduke John, I was as in a dream. The face of that man behind the prison bars accompanied me everywhere. That for which he suffered and died--had it not come? What are we soldiers? Are we nothing but the body-guard of the Prince? Against whom are we fighting?

"Soldiering does not allow of much thinking. In the spring of 1849 we took the field. The first order I gave was directed against the revolutionary volunteers; the first man I killed looked wonderfully like him who had been behind the bars. I tried to forget all this, and succeeded. Then I met you and Bertha.

"What has happened since, you know; what went on within me I will not bring to light.

"For a long time I have lived quietly, and have worked industriously. I desired, above all things, to be a good soldier; to be well grounded in my profession.

"I had asked for leave of absence to fight the Circa.s.sians; I wanted to see real war. Leave was not granted me, but I was appointed as teacher in the school for non-commissioned officers. I studied many things there, and worked earnestly with my friend, Professor Rolunt.

"In 1859 I felt our alienation most bitterly. We were not allowed to join in the Schiller festival. What would our civilization be without our poets? Whole dynasties of princes can be wiped away, and no one misses them; but just think of Schiller's name and works being obliterated! And why should we soldiers not join in the festivities?

Has he not elevated our Fatherland and all of us? But he who would have dared to give utterance to such thoughts at that time would have been cashiered.

"In the year 1866, I had the good fortune to fight against a foreign foe in Schleswig-Holstein, and while at the front was promoted to a captaincy. I had a major who was, now that I consider it, merely stupid, and who was, therefore, of most revolting military orthodoxy.

Had he not been of n.o.ble birth, he would scarcely have been made a woodcutter. As it was, he barely managed to get himself advanced in grade. As long as I was a lieutenant, it was easier to bear; but when I was made a company commander, I was inwardly rebellious and had to remain silent. Yes, you political gentlemen complain of tyranny, but we suffer far more from it than you do. Discipline is necessary, but to bear with such blockheads who disgrace you, and can do nothing but curse and swear--and this fellow did not even understand his duties--is harder than you think.

"The year 1866 came. No one, not even you, could see what was going on within me. My misery began. What are we? Were we to have a different commander every day? We were--now I can utter the word--praetorians, nothing else; and Prussia is quite right in altering our military system. We must know who our chief is. Up to now, we merely fought as soldiers, and dared not ask what the end would be. Everything was discipline; we partook of the Lord's Supper on account of discipline, and as an example for the troops.