Spring had come, and the air was filled with the resinous odor of the
pines. I was sitting by the open window, and reading in a newspaper
that Bismarck had asked the Diet for a constituent national assembly,
to be voted for directly by the people. Could it be possible? I took up
the country journals: they reviled this proposal, and could not conceal
their fear that the most powerful weapon of the revolutionary party had
been destroyed.
While I was sitting there, buried in thought, I heard a rider rapidly
approaching. It was Ernst. He hurriedly greeted us, and showed us an
order recalling him to his regiment.
Martella cried out aloud. Ernst pacified her. He told us that he was no
longer a subject of this country. He had given notice of his intention
to emigrate, and that would protect him. It was spring-time, and the
best season of the year to go forth into the wide world. I could only
tell him that I doubted whether he would be allowed to leave the
confederation.
"Confederation!" he exclaimed; "what a glorious name!"
He gave me a look that I shall, alas! never forget. He seemed to be
collecting his senses, and as if struggling with his thoughts, and then
said: "As far as I am concerned, my life is of no consequence to me.
But, father, there will be war, in which what the books call Germans
will be fighting against Germans. Have you raised me for this? Is this
all that you are in the world for--that your son should perish, or even
conquer, in a war between brethren? Either issue is equally
disgraceful. I do not know what I would not rather do than take part in
that."
I endeavored to pacify Ernst, and told him that these were diplomatic
quarrels, that would not lead so far after all. I could not conceive of
the possibility of war. However, I consented to Ernst's request to
accompany him to the borough town, in order to confer with the
kreis-director in regard to the steps that were necessary. I sincerely
hoped to obtain further particulars there, and felt that all would
again be peacefully arranged.
My wife had sent for Joseph and had asked him to accompany us, for she
saw how fearfully excited Ernst was, and desired us to have a mediator
with us. She judged wisely.
"I shall return to-morrow," said Ernst to Martella, when all was ready
for our departure.
"And if you do not return to-morrow," she answered, "and even if you
must go to war at once, nothing will happen to you. You are the
cleverest of all; and if you care to become a major, do so; and I shall
learn how to be a major's wife--for I can learn anything."
She was wondrously cheerful; she seemed to have vanquished her fears,
and thus, both for herself and Ernst, lightened the pain of parting.
Joseph informed me that Funk was everywhere joyously proclaiming that
now at last the crash must come, and that proud Prussia with its
Junkers would be cut to pieces, or, to use his own words, demolished.
Ernst beat the bays so unmercifully and drove so furiously, that I
ordered him to halt, and insisted on Joseph's taking the reins. Ernst,
in a sullen mood, seated himself beside me.
In the valley we a saw lumber wagon halting on the road, and from afar
recognized the horses as Joseph's.
Carl, a servant of Joseph's, and son to the spinner who lived up on the
rock, was surrounded by a group of raftsmen, woodsmen, and teamsters,
who were all gesticulating in the wildest manner.
We halted as soon as we reached the team. Carl, a handsome,
light-haired fellow, with a cheerful face and good-natured eyes, came
up to us and told us that this would be his last load; he had been
summoned as a conscript, and would have to leave that very evening and
walk all night, in order to reach the barracks in time.
The old meadow farmer, who had joined the crowd exclaimed, "Yes,
Napoleon is master. When he fiddles, Prussia and Austria must dance as
he chooses, and the small folk will soon follow suit. Yes, there is a
Napoleon in the world again. I knew the old one."
We did not think it necessary to answer the man. While Joseph was
giving his servant money to use by the way, others approached and
declared that they, too, had been conscripted, and requested us to tell
them why there was war.
"You simple rogues," cried out Ernst, "that is none of your business!
If you didn't wish it, there could be no war. You are fools, fearful
fools, if you obey the conscription!"
I snatched the whip from Joseph's hand, and beat the horses furiously
while I called out to the crowd:
"He was only joking!"
Joseph assumed the task of bringing Ernst to reason. He declared that
if I had not been present, he would have written the answer that Ernst
deserved in his face.
"Do so, you trusty Teuton!" replied Ernst.
Speedily controlling himself, Joseph added, "Forgive me; but you are
most exasperating. How can you bear to drag yourself and your father to
the very brink of ruin with such idle speeches? You are unworthy of
such a father."
"Or of such a Fatherland," answered Ernst.
I felt so oppressed that I could hardly breathe.
We rode on for a little while, and at last Ernst inquired, in a
submissive tone, "Will you permit me to smoke a cigar?" I nodded
approval, and from that time until we reached the town, not a word was
uttered.
On the road that led up to the kreis-director's house, we saw the young
iron merchant, Edward Levi, an honorable and well-educated young man.
He was standing at the door of his warehouse, and saluted us in
military fashion.
Ernst beckoned to him to approach.
"Have you not already received your discharge?"
"I have; and you, I suppose, will now soon be an officer?"
"So I have heard."
We reached the director's house. The director could of course only
confirm the fact that Ernst's notice of his intention to emigrate was
as yet without legal effect. He furnished us with a certified copy of
it, and added that he might be able to procure Ernst's discharge; but
that, at all events, Ernst would be obliged for the present to join the
troops.
Rontheim believed that war was imminent, and I could not help noticing
an expression of deep emotion in the features of the man whose face was
always veiled in diplomatic serenity. In those days I heard the sad
question which so often afterward would seem to rend our hearts:
"What will become of Germany--what will become of the world--if Austria
be successful?"
I could easily see that it was as painful to him as it was to me to
have a son go forth to war.
On our way down the steps we met the director's daughter.
She extended her hand to Ernst, while she said, "I congratulate you."
"For what, may I inquire?"
"Your betrothal."
"Ah, yes; I thank you."
"I presume your intended is full of sad thoughts now."
"She does not do much thinking on the subject."
"Is your nephew obliged to join the army?"
"My nephew! Who can you mean?"
"Julius Linker," blushingly answered the young girl.
"No; he is not yet liable to military duty."
"Will you be good enough to give my kindest greetings to my brother?"
"With pleasure."
On our way Ernst seemed quite amused, and indulged in jokes at the
thought of Julius' being such a child of fortune. His life was
evidently moving in a smooth current, for the half-fledged youth had
already been lucky enough to win the love of so charming a girl.
I felt quite reassured to find that Ernst's thoughts had taken another
direction. He emphatically declared himself ready to join his regiment,
and asked me to let him have some money. He thought there was no need
of my accompanying him to the capital, but I felt loth to leave him,
and, although I should not have done so, I promised to endeavor to
procure his discharge.
We again met Joseph, who expressed his regret that the conscription of
his valuable servant Carl would oblige him to return to his home, for
he had intended to accompany us to the capital.
It was necessary for him, however, to go to the fortress, for he had
accepted a contract to furnish fence rails.
Joseph is a very active patriot, but he is quite as active as a
business man. He has the art of combining both functions, and Richard
once said of him with justice: "With Joseph, everything is a stepping
stone, and all events contribute to the success of his business plans."
We were seated in the garden of the Wild Man Tavern, when we heard a
great uproar in front of the house of Krummkopf, the lumber merchant.
A company of conscripts had marched up before the house, in which there
resided a young man who had purchased his discharge from military
service, and they cursed and swore that they who were poor were obliged
to go to war, while the rich ones could remain at home.
Joseph, who recognized many of his workmen among the young folks,
succeeded in pacifying them.
We accompanied Ernst to the railway. At the depot I found Captain
Rimminger, the lumber merchant, who was just superintending the loading
of some planks. When I told him that he ought to feel glad that he was
no longer a soldier, he silently nodded assent. He did not utter a
word, for he was always exceedingly careful to avoid committing
himself.
At the depot we saw conscripts who were shouting and cheering, mothers
who were weeping, and fathers who bit their lips to control their
emotion.
At every station where Ernst left the train, I feared that he would not
come back; but he did return and sat by my side quietly, speaking only
in reply to my questions. For a while he would sit absorbed in thought,
and then he would stand up and lean against the side of the railway
coach, in which position he would remain immovable. I felt much grieved
that the heart of this child had become a mystery to me.
We arrived at the capital. I had lost sight of Ernst in the crowd, but
afterwards found him talking with the ensign, the director's son. Ernst
desired to go to the barracks at once. I accompanied him to the gate,
which he entered without once turning to look back.