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JOSEPH IN THE SNOW,
AND
THE CLOCKMAKER.
BY AUERBACH.
TRANSLATED BY LADY WALLACE.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
SAUNDERS, OTLEY, AND CO.,
66, BROOK STREET, HANOVER SQUARE.
1861.
LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,
AND 14, CHARING CROSS.
THE CLOCKMAKER.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
PAGE
Introduction
CHAPTER I.
A Good Name
CHAPTER II.
The Mourner And His Companion
CHAPTER III.
Work And Good Deeds
CHAPTER IV.
Each One For Himself
CHAPTER V.
Pilgrim's Adventures
CHAPTER VI.
The World steps in
CHAPTER VII.
The Civilities of a Landlord's Pretty Daughter
CHAPTER VIII.
Happiness dawns, and a new Mother speaks
CHAPTER IX.
A Parley with Friends
CHAPTER X.
A Dinner with Petrowitsch
CHAPTER XI.
The Great Clock plays its Melodies, and fresh ones are added
CHAPTER XII.
A good Escort, and Thoughts of the Future
CHAPTER XIII.
Lion, Fox, and Magpie
CHAPTER XIV.
Presses, and Eyes are opened
CHAPTER XV.
Young Hearts.--A Proposal
CHAPTER XVI.
A Heart is won
CHAPTER XVII.
A Friend's Opinion
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Rebuff, and a Betrothal
CHAPTER XIX.
First Visit to a New House
CHAPTER XX.
A First Drive
CHAPTER XXI.
A Gay Wedding,--and a Hard Nut to crack
CHAPTER XXII.
A Morning Gift
THE CLOCKMAKER
OF
THE BLACK FOREST.
There is a house on the declivity of a hill, on which the morning sun
long lingers, and the eyes of those who gaze on this house sparkle with
pleasure, for they augur from that glance that its inhabitants are
happy. They are so; but their happiness is of a peculiar nature, for
they have striven long and hard, before they at last acquired it. They
have stood on the very threshold of death, though eventually restored
to the living.
The wife appears at the door--her face is fair, pretty, and youthful,
but her hair is white as snow--she smiles at an old woman who is
working in the garden, and calls to the children to be less noisy; a
thriving young fir plantation forms a background to the house.
"Come in, Franzl, and you children also; 'Wilhelm is to set off to-day
on his travels," says the young woman with white hair.
The old woman comes up to her slowly; her figure is bent, and she is
already taking hold of her apron, in order to dry the tears that are
fast rising to her eyes. In a short time the husband comes out of the
house with a young lad, who has a knapsack on his shoulders.
"Wilhelm," says the father, "take leave of your mother here, and be
sure you conduct yourself so that whatever you do, you may be able to
think:--'My father and mother may know this;' and then, please God! you
will, one day, once more cross this threshold in peace."
The mother embraces the lad, and says, sobbing:--
"I have nothing more to say; your father has said all; but if you find
a plant of Edelweiss on the Swiss mountains bring it home for me."
The youth walks on, and his brothers and sisters call after him, "Good
bye, Wilhelm!" While the father, turning to his wife, says:--"Annette,
I only mean to go as far as the boundary with Wilhelm and Lorenz.
Pilgrim will go on with them to their first night's quarters. I shall
return soon."
"Quite right, but don't hurry back, and above all, don't take the
parting so to heart; and tell Lisle Faller, as you pass, that I wish
her mother and her to dine here."
The father goes forward with his son, and the mother says to the old
woman:--
"It is a great comfort to me, that young Faller goes with Wilhelm on
his travels."
We can relate why the young mother with the white hair, begged her son
to bring her home a plant of Edelweiss from his travels.
It is a hard, painful, almost cruel story, but the sun of love beams
brightly, at last, through the clouds.
CHAPTER I.
A GOOD NAME.
"She was an excellent woman."
"Few like her left."
"She was one of the good old-fashioned sort."
"Come when you would, she was always ready to bestow help and comfort."
"What trials she had gone through! she had buried four children and her
husband, and yet she was always kind and cheerful."
"Lenz will miss her sadly; he will discover now what a mother he had."
"Oh, no! he knew that well enough during her life, and always strove to
please her."
"He must marry soon, now."
"He can choose whoever he likes; any house he knocks at will gladly
throw open the door to him, he is so good and steady."
"Besides, he must have a considerable sum of money."
"And he is heir to his rich uncle, Petrowitsch."
"How well the Choral Society sung at the funeral today! it quite went
to the heart."
"How much it must have touched poor Lenz! he usually sings with them,
and he has the best voice of them all."
"Very true--he did not shed a tear during the funeral service, but when
his companions were singing, he cried and sobbed as if his heart would
break."
"This is the first funeral that Petrowitsch did not leave the village
to avoid: indeed, it would have been too bad if he had not shown this
last mark of respect to his sister-in-law."
It was thus the men were conversing while going along, through the
valley, and up the hill. They were all in black, for they were coming
from a funeral. In the churchyard below, near which a few houses
are clustered--the Inn of the Golden Lion parading itself in the
centre--they had just buried the widow of the clockmaker, Lenz of the
Morgenhalde, and all had a good word to say of the deceased, for each
individual felt they had lost a kind friend when the good woman quitted
the world.
The mourners seemed deeply affected, and sorrow was evident on every
face, for just as some fresh grief revives former ones, so those who
had just seen the earth scattered on the newly dug grave, had taken the
opportunity of visiting the graves of their own relations, shedding
tears over their silent resting place, and uttering fervent prayers.
We are in the district inhabited by the clockmakers of the Black
Forest, a wooded and mountainous tract of country, where its streams on
one side flow towards the Rhine, and on the other to the Donau, which
has its source not far from this. The men have a pious, composed air;
the number of women considerably exceeds that of the men, for a vast
proportion of the latter are dispersed through the world, pursuing
their traffic in clocks. Those who stay at home are generally pale,
bearing traces of their sedentary occupation; the women, on the
contrary, who work in the fields, are fresh coloured, and have a
quaint, original appearance from the broad black ribbons tied under
their chins, according to the fashion of the country.
The cultivation of land is however on a small scale, consisting
chiefly, with the exception of a few large farms, of gardens and meadow
land. In some spots, a narrow strip of plantation runs along the valley
down to the stream, and at intervals may be seen a solitary fir,
stripped of its branches to the crown, as if to show that both pasture
and arable land have been gained from the wood. The village, or rather
the district, is some miles in length, its cottages being scattered
along the valley and on the adjacent hills. The houses are built of
solid logs of wood, fitted together in cross beams--the windows are
placed in front in regular succession, a very bright light being
indispensable for the trade of clockmaking. The backs of the houses are
invariably sheltered from storms by a hill or a wood, and heavy
thatched roofs project far in front, as an additional defence against
wind and weather, harmonizing in colour with their background,--narrow
footpaths leading through green meadows to the dwellings of man.
Here and there a woman branches off from the group passing along the
valley, making a sign with her hymnbook towards her home, where her
children are watching from the narrow rows of windows, or running
hastily down the meadow to meet their mother; and when these good
creatures take off their Sunday clothes, they sigh heavily, thinking of
the mournful death of their kind friend, and yet they feel how good a
thing it is, that those nearest and dearest to them are still left, to
be loved and cherished. Indoor work, however, does not seem to prosper
today. The attractions of the world without, still seem to absorb the
villagers, who do not find it so easy to dismiss them from their
thoughts.
The balancemaker from Kunslingen, celebrated for his superior brass and
leaden weights, who accompanied the groups to the nearest cross road,
said in a thoughtful tone:--
"What a senseless thing it does seem, after all, to die! Lenz's good
mother had gathered such a vast store of wisdom and experience, and now
she is laid in the ground, and all her sagacity and good sense lost to
the world for ever."
"At all events her son seems to have inherited her goodness," said a
farmer.
"Yes; but experience and knowledge every man must acquire for himself,"
said a little old man, whose face was like a note of interrogation--he
was nick-named the Proebler (experimenter) though his real name was
Zacherer, because, instead of applying steadily to the usual routine of
clockmaking, he was constantly trying all kinds of new experiments, and
consequently in very poor circumstances.
"The old customs were far better and more sensible," said an old man
who lived on the other side of the valley, Schilder-David by name. "In
those good old days, we had a substantial funeral feast, which was
greatly needed as a restorative, after such a long journey and so much
sorrow; for nothing makes a man more hungry and thirsty than the
exhaustion of grief. At that time, too, it was the schoolmaster who
pronounced the funeral exhortation, and if he was sometimes a little
lengthy, what did it matter? Now this is all done away with, and I am
so hungry, and so weary, that I can scarcely move from the spot."
"And I too!" "And I!" resounded on all sides; and Schilder-David
continued:--"And what are we to do when we get home? our day is
gone--of course we are glad to give it up, for the sake of paying
proper respect to any one we liked; but in former times it was far
better arranged, for we did not get home till night, and then we had no
occasion to think about work."
"I suspect you had little capability of thinking at all," shrewdly
observed young Faller, in his sonorous voice. He was the second bass
singer in the choral society, and carried his music books under his
arm. His mode of walking, and his general bearing, showed that he had
been a soldier. "A funeral feast," he continued, "would have been
quite contrary to the wishes of Lenz's mother. 'Everything in its due
season--joy and mourning,' was her motto. I was apprenticed to old Lenz
for five years and three quarters, and at school with young Lenz."
"I suppose you could have talked as glibly as the schoolmaster, and
have given us the funeral oration;" said Schilder-David, muttering
something of conceited singers, who imagined the world only began when
they sang from notes.
"Indeed I could," rejoined the young man, who either did not hear these
last words, or, at all events, affected not to do so. "I could have
pronounced as great a eulogium on the deceased; and, when so good a
person has just been laid in the grave, I think it is more fitting and
congenial not so immediately to discuss other matters, and all kinds of
worldly pleasures and occupations.
"My old master, Lenz, was a person, who if all men were like him, there
would be no more need for either judges, soldiers, prisons, or houses
of correction, in the world. Our old master was severe, and would allow
no apprentice to exchange his file for the turning lathe, till he could
polish an octagon with a free hand, so that it looked as if it had been
in the turning-machine; and we were all obliged to learn how to make
small clocks, for a workman who can finish small things properly is
sure not to fail in larger ones. No clocks or watches were ever sent
out of his house in which there was the smallest defect, for he said,
'It is both for my honour and that of our district, that our good name
should remain untarnished.' I will only give you one instance, to
enable you to judge of the influence he exercised over us young people.
When young Lenz and I became journeymen, we began to smoke. The old man
said: 'Very well, if you choose to smoke I cannot prevent you, and I do
not wish you to do it secretly. Unfortunately for me I also indulge in
the bad habit of smoking, but I tell you fairly, that if you smoke I
must give it up, whatever it may cost me; for it is not possible that
we should all smoke.' After this, we, of course, gave up all idea of
such a thing, for we would rather have had all our teeth drawn than
caused our old master to give up his pipe.
"His excellent wife is now on the road to heaven, and her guardian
angel is no doubt saying to her, 'You have been a worthy woman--few
better in the world. Perhaps you have had your faults; you spoiled your
son considerably, and prevented him travelling to other countries,
which would have done him good, and made him less delicate; but your
thousand good deeds, which no one knew but God, and your never
listening to evil of others, making the best of everything, and reading
the Bible to Petrowitsch, all that will not be forgotten now, and
surely you will have your reward.' And if she is offered any recompense
in heaves, I am sure she will say, 'Give it to my son; and, if there is
any to spare, there is such and such a one who stands in grievous need
of it--help them--I am weary of watching over others.' You could
scarcely believe how little she ate; her husband often laughed at her
for it, but it is sure and certain enough, that seeing others enjoy
their food seemed to satisfy her, and the son is just as good hearted
as the mother was. What a kind heart he has! I would gladly go to the
death for him."
This was the way in which the clockmaker Faller talked, and his deep
bass voice often trembled from emotion. The others, however, did not
let him have all the praise of Lenz to himself. The Proebler declared,
that Lenz was the only one in the whole district, who understood
something more than what had been known here from time immemorial, and
Schilder-David added: "He passes no man without striving to serve him;
every year he repairs the old organ of the blind man at Fuchsberg, and
does it for nothing; he often spends an entire holiday mending it, and
he has helped me too. He came one day to visit me, and saw how hard I
was working to make my wheel revolve properly. He went straight to the
miller, and talked to him, and settled it all, and then came and
fetched me to an upper loft, where he arranged my workshop, and
fastening my wheel to that of the mill, I found I could work three
times as fast and with one half the trouble."
Every one was as eager to contribute his offering in praise of Lenz, as
if he had been an almsbox.
The balancemaker said nothing for some time, but he nodded approvingly;
but he is the wisest of them however, for at last he says, that all
that has been stated is true, but that enough has not been said, and
that he knows something more. "There is no workman better than Lenz to
work for; everything must indeed be very neat and properly finished,
but then you not only get your full wages, but kind and honest words
into the bargain, which is best of all."
Faller now left the group, and turned along the mountain path to
his house, and the others also dispersed in different directions,
after each had taken a pinch out of the Proebler's birch snuffbox.
Schilder-David went on alone with his stout staff farther up the
valley, for he lived a good way on the other side of the country, and
was the only one of his parish who had crossed the valley to attend the
funeral.