Richard told us of his experiences while with the French, and we could not help asking ourselves: "Shall we ever be at peace with these neighbors of ours?"

"I have learned to know the French," said Richard, "and suffered much at their hands. The people amused themselves by insulting me while I was being led through the streets; I had to march in chains for a whole day; and still, through all the ravings of this sanguine people, I could see its mighty soul."

At these words, Offenheimer rushed up to Richard, and, embracing him, said, "A wounded enemy is an enemy no longer, and thus we have ceased to be enemies of suffering France."

He begged Richard to tell him more, and so he continued: "In spite of their impa.s.sioned feelings, and of the fact, utterly incomprehensible to them, that we were impolite enough not to let them whip us, there is a real elevation of soul in them, although it is obscured by their theatrical phrases. But their belief in themselves is something grand.

They cling to it, even now, when they are sorely beaten. I am confident that the French will, in time, become honestly tolerant, and not in the sham sense that makes its professors say: 'You, poor fellow, have a false belief, but I do not attack it.' The French have a beautiful faith in themselves, but they must acquire faith in others, and not consider themselves the whole of humanity."

Nations have much the same ideas as individuals. After a silent combat, they can scarcely believe that it arose from a trifling cause, and now the French will not remember what a trivial pretext they had for this war.

The Chinese self-sufficiency of the French, who believed themselves to be the sole representatives of civilization, is now broken down. Their morbid desire for revenge can only be temporary. The people, deeply wounded in its vanity, and swindled out of its love of truth by sycophantic word-mongers, will come to reason.

Wilhelmi based great hopes on the projected university of Strasburg. It was to form an intellectual bond of union. With great warmth of feeling, he demonstrated that it was typical of the real character of our people, that, first of all, an inst.i.tution of learning was established in the newly recovered province.

Then Ludwig rose, and with an enthusiasm in which all the fervor of his youth broke forth, again said: "And something more is in store for us, and, for that reason, I wish to remain an American citizen. You, Wilhelmi, and I have learned to know America. We love our old home, but we also love the New World, which is the land to initiate great thoughts, the land in which humanity, through untrammelled liberty, cannot but reach great results. It is pitiful and, at the same time, sad, that the American who has made money, and wishes to do something for the public good, knows of nothing better than to build a church.

"My idea--and I have distinguished friends who agree with me--is to establish, as our celebration of the centennial of American independence, a German University in America; an International High-School. I need not point out to you, how great a significance such an inst.i.tution would possess for the New World, as well as for the Old.

After our German students have studied for a year at the American Athens, how much wider their range of vision will be, and how much greater their knowledge of the world! In this way, a cable of quite a different kind would be laid; an intellectual electric current, binding the Old World to the New."

Richard took Ludwig's hand, and congratulated him on having conceived this grand idea.

"Thus should it be," he cried; "let Germany be fully and entirely its own, and then send the messengers of its intellectual life to all the world. The ancients carried their G.o.ds of marble and bronze, wherever they went; we carry divine thoughts over the whole inhabited globe."

Offenheimer whispered something to Richard, who pressed his hand gratefully.

I sat there quietly and felt unutterably happy, because my children possessed new ideals so different from our own. Their clear, organizing minds stretched into the far distance, and their schemes embraced the welfare of all mankind.

When in Strasburg, I felt deeply pained that such men as Ludwig and Wilhelmi should be driven into exile. Not always does our life give an answer to such questions. I received one now.

We were interrupted by Ikwarte, who begged to be excused. He had noticed his brother among the marching soldiers. He was sergeant and had received the Iron Cross; he had recognized him, and called out to him from the procession. Ikwarte now asked permission to go and seek his brother.

Ludwig granted it of course. We were all pleased with Ikwarte's firm sense of duty, to which even his brotherly love had to yield.

As Ikwarte was leaving the room, Julius entered with his wife. She carried my great-grandson on her arm.

For a while, every one turned to them. Then Ludwig began:

"It is well that you have come, Julius! We are here among friends; are you ready to answer a question regarding your future?"

In a quiet tone, Julius answered, he would first have to know what it was all about.

Smiling, Ludwig said: "Allow me to tell you that I am a Colonel."

Julius bowed, and Ludwig continued: "How grand it was that the American officers, at the end of their war, returned to civil life, while here in Germany a standing army draws our best energies away from productive labor."

Quietly but not without confidence, Julius replied: "It seems to me that Uncle Ludwig is still thinking of the revolutionary times, of the long forgotten stone age of German history. There is no separation now between soldier and citizen, and it is very questionable whether any one has the right to call us soldiers unproductive laborers. Our work creates a race of men who give firmness and character to our political life. What the schools are unable to finish, we perfect. To cultivate the great forest of men, is a higher aim than to reclaim a forest of trees."

"Oh," interrupted Wolfgang, and Julius turned to him and said: "Dear Wolfgang, I do not think meanly of that either; it is also a part of the work that society has before it. But each one must choose his post and guard it faithfully."

Ludwig insisted to the contrary, and squarely put it to Julius that he should leave the army, and take charge of his grandfather's estate. He could, if his country called him, always return to his duty. He hinted, and not very delicately, that one should not allow one's self to be seduced by the outward glitter of the soldier's life.

Without any irritation, but in determined language, Julius declared that he fully recognized how great a spectacle it was to see a victorious army return home in triumph, and lay down its arms; that it would have been desirable that the conclusion of peace should produce the disarmament of Europe. Such a disarmament, however, is only possible in America, where there is but one powerful nation. In conclusion, he eulogized the high mission of the soldier's life as a school for men.

Ludwig rose and said: "Here is my hand; I am converted. Father, I have now decided. I shall accept the estate."

I do not know how it came to pa.s.s, but Martha had laid my great-grandson in my arms, and when the boy raised his eyes to mine, I felt as if I was looking forward into the future.

You, my child, rested beside a mother's heart during the battles; you slept during the triumphant march, and now, around you, great words and thoughts wander forth into the world. When, at some future time, you shall learn how your father fought and suffered for home and country, may it sound to you like a fable from the old, dark days, that, long ago, we had to fight the monsters who despised the people. Stand firm and pure in the new life of nations, amongst whom the battle will only be for the possession of the n.o.blest treasures of the intellectual world.

AT HOME, _July_ 22.

I did not find my comrade Rothfuss. He died full of happiness and peace. On the last morning, he said to Johanna: "The German Empire is not the right thing after all. One must die in it, just as before. Our Emperor should order a different state of things, but never mind. 'He who is wet to the skin, need not dread the rain.' If I could only lie down in my grave for my master, as I once had myself locked up for Ludwig."

My grandson the vicar, who is chaplain at the neighboring fortress, was with him in his last hours.

Ludwig has taken the family estate for his son Wolfgang; not, as is customary, at the family valuation, but at its full market value.

I shall resign my post.

So far, the memoirs up to the evening before the anniversary of Gustava's death. They were written in the afternoon, with a firm hand.

After that, he walked out into the forest. Carl, who was in the fields, saw him drinking from the Gustava fountain, and rejoiced to see the master walking so st.u.r.dily.

He was found in the woods he had planted, beneath a white pine tree, stretched out in death. His face was toward the earth, and rested on the wild thyme.

The second tablet of the grave-stone bears the following inscription:

HERE RESTS, IN THE SOIL OF OUR UNITED COUNTRY, HEINRICH WALDFRIED, BORN MAY THE 10TH, 1800; DIED JULY THE 22D, 1871.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Throughout, the translator will, according to the German custom, use the word "bride" to designate a woman who is only betrothed.]

[Footnote 2: This name means: Lizzy, the huntress.]

[Footnote 3: Director or governor of the district or department.]

[Footnote 4: Feast commemorative of the dedication of a church.]

[Footnote 5: I am waiting (dialect).]

[Footnote 6: _Guten Ort._]