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 a.s.sisted at the vexatious and fruitless labors at Frankfort, should have the nomination. Only in that way, could the defeat of the Funk party be a.s.sured.

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 const.i.tution 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.