Your mountain Sack, your Frontignac,
Tokay, and twenty more, sir,
Your Sherry and Perry, that make men merry,
Are deities I adore, sir;
And well may Port
Our praise extort,
When from his palace forth he comes,
And glucks and gurgles, fumes and foams.
Gluck, gluck,
Hickup, gurgle and gluck.
OLD SONG.
If one were to judge the traits of the vulgar from the indulgence
they exhibit towards certain vices, or certain instances of their
occurrence, it would be easy to show that man is, at bottom, a
good-natured animal. It is certain that he betrays an extraordinary
leniency in the case of a vice which all unite, in the abstract, to
condemn; and that many men derive an importance from the sacrifice of
reputation and mind to the Imp of the Bottle, which they might have
failed to purchase by a life of wisdom and sobriety. It is not
uncommon to find, in some rural districts, men of gross and degraded
habits, whom a rational creature would spurn from him with contempt,
and who are indeed the butts of ridicule or objects of commiseration,
even among their own immediate neighbours; but who, strange to say,
are regarded with a species of admiration, growing directly out of
their profligacy. Such, we are sorry to say, are some of the rustic
professors of law and physic, who, possessing a little talent, but no
industry, prefer whiling the period of probationary idleness at the
door, or in the bar-room, of the village tavern, to devoting it in
the closet to that labour which is the only stepping-stone to
distinction and fortune; and thus contracting a love for something
more than idleness, and slipping, little by little, towards the
bottom of the hill, are seen at last, downdraughts, with swollen
visages and seedy garments, mingling among the coarse and base,
themselves perhaps the coarsest and basest. You will see such a man
gibed and laughed at by the lowest of his companions, as something
that even they can despise; for whatever may be the hatred with which
the humble regard the more lofty, they are the first to appreciate
the degradation of a downfall; but the next moment you will hear them
talk of him with praise. Is it 'the poor doctor at the Cross-Roads?'
'Oh, he is a ruined man, to be sure, and a sot; but he cures, when
another man fails; somewhat dangerous now and then, when too "far in
for it," but a marvellous hand at "rheumatisms and the fever."' Is it
'crusty Ned Jones, the lawyer?' 'Drinks like a fish, but with more
sharp stuff in his brain than all the bar beside; a devil of a fellow
to corner a witness, break a will, pick a flaw in an indictment, and
set a jury a-sobbing: great pity he drinks,--but he's a tremendous
orator, and all the better for a glass or two, in a hard case.' We
have heard of a lawyer, a lover of his glass, who reformed his
habits, and lost his practice.
The worthy Affidavy, who played so prominent a part in the jury of
inquest, was one of this unfortunate class of beings, although he had
commenced the world with as fair prospects as could be derived from a
moderate share of talent, and some native energy of character, and
was yet in the prime of his years. He had sunk into poverty and
neglect, was any man's fellow, and every man's scorn; yet the lower
he sunk, the loftier became men's opinions of his natural parts and
his professional knowledge; and Squire Schlachtenschlager was wont to
say, 'he pelieved Affidafy mate petter speeches now than he tidt
afore, fen he fas a soper man.' While such generous opinions
prevailed, the lawyer had still 'something to do' in the way of his
profession; but the sad condition of his outward man showed that this
was far from being profitable. Indeed, if the truth must be told, his
admirers, though of humours sufficiently litigious, were oftener
inclined to employ than able to pay; and those of better estates,
however they marvelled at the sagacity, and applauded the speeches of
the man of buckram, were rather shy of applying to him for
assistance, until they felt their cases to be growing desperate. The
consequence of this state of things was, that Mr. Theophilus Affidavy
was compelled to resort to many shifts to obtain a subsistence, that
added little to his reputation; and would indeed have been hooted
from the county, had he not been protected by the armour of imputed
genius, which his habits seemed to fasten around him.
The account he received of the wealth of the unfortunate Hyland
produced a strong effect upon his acquisitive propensities; and he
saw at a glance, that if his counsel could be of no benefit to the
prisoner, it might undoubtedly be of some to himself. "He is a Hawk
of the Hollow," he muttered to himself, "and so every one will be
against him. Good! There will be much apparent merit therefore in
undertaking his defence. His case is bad,--awful bad--better! To
volunteer in such a case, will infer at once the possession of
extraordinary skill, worthy of extraordinary reward. He has
money--excellent! But, botheration, the other Jack-brains will find
that out, and dive at him before me. Must have Schlachtenschlager's
horse, if I have to steal him--nobody else will lend me one. An old
ass; but can twist him round my thumb as easily as a tape of
tobacco."
Such were the reflections of the attorney, as with his brother
jurors, one of whom had given him a seat in his little Jersey wagon,
he followed Schlachtenschlager, to share the feast this worthy had
prepared for his associates at the Green Tree.
The soliloquy of the lawyer seemed to infer a doubt of the
performance of the promise Schlachtenschlager had so generously made
of lending him a horse. This doubt was engendered by a sudden change
in the sky, which, from having been perfectly clear and placid,
suddenly began to be covered with clouds, and these of an appearance
so gloomy and menacing that full half the jurors became alarmed, and,
excusing themselves from accepting the proffered hospitality, hurried
to their homes, leaving the revels to be shared by those who dwelt in
the Squire's immediate neighbourhood. The attorney, wonderful to be
said, had as strong an impulse to be gone as others, although fully
sensible of the excellence of the magistrate's potables, and of the
painful sacrifice he should make in tearing himself away; but on the
other hand, he perceived that a violent thunderstorm was brewing, and
he knew the Squire to be a prudent man, who loved his beast as he
loved his wife, and indeed a great deal better, and would be loath to
lend him after the storm had once set in. For this reason, as soon as
he had reached the inn, he reminded the Squire of his promise, swore
he would drink but a single glass, and then be off, without waiting
for the rain.
The Squire scratched his head, and replied,
"Vy, Mr. Affidafy, I don't know. The veather vill be padt, and I
don't like it: it vill pe padt on the horse. So, Affidafy, ve vill
vait a little and see; and, pesides, my poy," added the dignitary,
clapping him on the shoulder, as if to atone by condescension for the
disappointment he inflicted, "ve fill not forget the dtrinking, and
the jolly-making. Py mine heart, my poy, ve fill have petter fun for
you than trampling about in the rain mit a stumpling horse. Fat, man,
fy we're all Deutschers put you! Here's Jake Musser, and Hans
Fackeltrager, and Alberick Klappermuhle, and Franz Beschwerlich, and
Simson Kleiber, and mineself; and then there's you. Mine Gott, ve
fill be jolly; for I will proach a parrel of Nierensteiner,--mine
soul! it is as goodt as any in the whole Rheingau! and I do keep it
for mineself. And ve fill dtrink and ve fill sing, as if ve fas all
in the Rheingau itself; for my voman, Gott pless her, she is cone to
the fillage, and the poys is out a looking after the ploodty Hawks.
Aha, Affidafy, my poy! you shall see fat it is to dtrink Rhine wine,
mit six goodt Deutschers to help you. Fat do you say, poys? can you
sing the Rheinweinlied in a t'under-storm? Aha, you see, Affidafy!
Fell, if ve are few, vy ve fill be merry."
It was in vain to pursue his desire, at such a moment; and indeed the
attorney's blood tingled with joy at the thought of the flowing
bowls, offered in such an oration. "Very well, you old fool," he
muttered to himself, "I will drink till your cursed sour old cider
trash, that you call Rhine wine, has opened your heart; and then,
botheration, I will bubble you out of the best horse in your stable.
Well, it is well it's no worse: it _will_ rain, and that cats and
dogs."
The indications of the weather were not falsified by the event. In
less than half an hour after all were safely housed, the heavens were
covered with pitchy clouds, from which were discharged dazzling
thunderbolts. Then came a terrific blast of wind, rending boughs from
the trees, and making the chimneys rock on the housetop; and this
again was followed by a furious driving rain, falling in such
torrents as promised in a few hours to swell the smallest brooks into
impassable rivers. This continued until nightfall, and was then only
terminated to be succeeded by deceitful intervals of calm, broken in
upon, even when least expected, by violent gusts of wind and rain.
It is not our design to pursue the conversation, nor to describe the
revels of the six Deutschers and their American companion, under the
roof of the Herr Schlachtenschlager. Secure from the tempest, they
defied its rage, and made even the roar of the thunder and the plash
of the rain contribute to their enjoyment. Armstrong has described,
in a few lines that find a responsive chord in every bosom, the
luxurious addition to the comfort of a warm bed, produced by the
tumult of a midnight tempest:
"Oh! when the growling winds contend, and all
The sounding forest fluctuates in the storm,
To sink in warm repose, and hear the din
Howl o'er the steady battlements, delights
Beyond the luxury of vulgar sleep."
The same cause is said by those who are philosophic in such matters,
to add peculiar zest to the hissing of the tea-kettle, and the rattle
of the punch-bowl. Perhaps, then, it was the violence of the storm,
rather than the excellence of the liquor, which betrayed the worthy
Schlachtenschlager and his guests into a degree of conviviality
somewhat inconsistent with the melancholy duties they had just
rendered to the commonwealth and the dead. But whatever was the
cause, it is very certain they forgot the dead and the commonwealth
together, and by nightfall were seven of the happiest men in all the
rebellious colonies of America. By that time Affidavy was as
glorified in his spirit as the rest; and suddenly starting up in the
midst of a crashing peal of thunder, he hiccuped, and then roared,
"Success to the Rhine wine, sweet or sour! and the devil take him
that won't sing its praises as loudly as e'er a rascal of the
Rheingau itself! So up, you German pigs, and let's sing! up, you
Hanz, Franz, Alberick, Jake, and Simson! up, you old rogue
Schlachtenschlager, for you can sing like a cherubim! and up, you
jolly dog, Teff Affidavy, who is up already, and can sing as well as
the best! join hands, bring flowers, crown the cup, and sing the
Rheinweinlied like seven angels--the Rheinweinlied, you hard-headed,
jolly dogs, in broad Deutsch! and after that, we'll sing it in my own
translation, botheration, which is better than the original, for all
that ass, Jingleum, says _he_ made it. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" responded the happy six; and in an instant every man was
singing, at the top of his voice, the famous Rheinweinlied--a song of
such noble and heart-stirring capacity, at least so far as the music
is concerned, that if it be objected to it, that it has sometimes set
a singer beside himself, it may be wondered how any one can hear it
and keep sober at all. The winds blew, the rain fell, and the
lightning flashed, while this jolly company rose round the table, and
sang in concert the praises of old father Rhine.
THE RHEINWEINLIED.
I.
Bekränzt mit Laub den lieben vollen Becher,
Und trinkt ihn fröhlich leer.
In ganz Europia, Ihr Herren Zecher!
Ist solch ein Wein nicht mehr.
II.
Ihn bringt das Vaterland ans seiner Fülle:
Wie wär er sonst so gut?
Wie wär er sonst so edel, wäre stille
Un doch voll Krafft und Muth?
III.
Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsre Reben;
Gesegnet sei der Rhein!
Da wachsen sie am ufer hin, und geben
Uns diesen Labewein.
IV.
So trinkt ihn denn, und lasst uns alle Wege
Uns freum und fröhlich seyn!
Und wüsster wir wo iemand traurig läge,
Wir gäben ihm den Wein.
"Bravo! bravissimo! bravississimo!" cried Affidavy. "Here's to you,
you dogs--'_Ihr Herren Zecher!_' And now for _my_ paraphrase. All you
that don't know it, why you may sing the German lingo over again: the
two will go very well together."
So saying, he burst forth on the following _rifacimento_ of the
original; the others, in general, holding fast to their own more
sonorous expressions; the effect of which Babel-like intermixture of
languages was to increase the noise, if it did not add to the spirit
of the author.
I.
The right Rhine wine!
We'll crown the cup with roses,
And quaff about, and laugh about,
Till all eyes wink!
Such joys divine
Sure mother Nature owes us:
So laugh about, and quaff about,--
Come, drink, boys, drink!
II.
Our Father-land!
'Tis that the vine produces:
How else should be this jolly wine
So good, so good?
Long as we stand,
We'll put it to its uses:
So laugh about, and quaff about,
As true souls should!
III.
Oh Rhine! old Rhine,
With milk and honey flowing!
There grows the tree so well love we,
The Vine, the Vine!
There clusters shine
On branches ever growing:
So laugh about, and quaff about
The good Rhine wine!
IV.
Come, drink, ha! ha!
And, sure, we'll all be merry;
Come, drink, ha, ha! come, laugh, ha, ha!
Oh! ha, ha, ha!
As full are we
As e'er a Rhine-wine berry:
So laugh about, and quaff about,--
Oh! ha, ha, ha!
It may be supposed that Affidavy had long since, in the joy of
revelry, discharged from his mind all memory of the case which had so
inflamed his fancy, and was content to leave it to be snapped up by a
more fortunate rival. How far this was from the truth may be inferred
from a phenomenon that presented itself about an hour after
nightfall, at which period he appeared on the porch, followed by
Schlachtenschlager and the rest, all singing with as much zeal as
before, but vastly out of time and tune. A saddled horse stood at the
door, on whose back some assisted the attorney to clamber, while
others were seen holding by railing and pillar, and venting much good
counsel with a deal of bad music. The Squire himself stood embracing
a pillar, now poking forth his bare noddle to the drops trickling
from the porch-roof, and now withdrawing it, to utter divers
'teufels!' and 'donners!' as the cold element profaned his visage of
dignity, yet still maintaining his stand, and expatiating on the
merit of the service he was rendering his guest.
"You see, Affidafy, man," he cried, "I'm a goodt-natured fellow: put
there's my horse, my pest horse, and it's a padt night; and,
Affidafy, man, you're as dtrunk as a chudge, poor man. But ho, ho!
that's no matter, for ve're all so:
'As full are ve
As ever vas a Rhine-fine perry:'
Very goodt that, Affidafy!--Fell, ve're all mortal sinners; and, mine
Gott, there is but little left in mine parrel, and Nierensteiner
costs money. Fell! goodt pye, Affidafy, my poy, goodt night. Take
goodt care of the horse, for he's my pest horse, Affidafy, for I'm a
goodt-natured fellow as ever it vas. Goodt night, Affidafy!"----And
"Goodt night, Affidafy!" muttered all, as the attorney, fetching a
desperate reel in the saddle, waved a graceful adieu, and turned to
depart. Instead of replying, however, to the farewell, he burst out
again with
'The right Rhine wine!'
and the others obeying the invitation, again opened their lips, and
chanted _Bekränzt mit Laub_, till he was out of sight. Then they
staggered back into the house, to continue their orgies; where we
will leave them, to follow the course of the attorney.