When ruddy clouds are driving past,
’Tis more than I can bear;
Thus did the soldiers all march by,
And thou, too, thou wert there.
When leaves are falling on the ground,
’Tis more than I can bear;
Thus fell full many a valiant lad,
And thou, too, thou wert there.
And now I sit so still and sad,
’Tis more than I can bear;
My evening meal I eat alone,
For thou, thou art not there.
I wish I could add one of Klaus Groth’s tales (“Vertellen,” as he calls
them), which give the most truthful description of all the minute details
of life in Dithmarschen, and bring the peculiar character of the country
and of its inhabitants vividly before the eyes of the reader. But, short
as they are, even the shortest of them would fill more pages than could
here be spared for Schleswig-Holstein. I shall, therefore, conclude this
sketch with a tale which has no author,—a simple tale from one of the
local Holstein newspapers. It came to me in a heap of other papers,
fly-sheets, pamphlets, and books, but it shone like a diamond in a heap of
rubbish; and, as the tale of “The Old Woman of Schleswig-Holstein,” it may
help to give to many who have been unjust to the inhabitants of the
Duchies some truer idea of the stuff there is in that strong and staunch
and sterling race to which England owes its language, its best blood, and
its honored name.
“When the war against Denmark began again in the winter of 1863, offices
were opened in the principal towns of Germany for collecting charitable
contributions. At Hamburg, Messrs. L. and K. had set apart a large room
for receiving lint, linen, and warm clothing, or small sums of money. One
day, about Christmas, a poorly clad woman from the country stepped in and
inquired, in the pure Holstein dialect, whether contributions were
received here for Schleswig-Holstein. The clerk showed her to a table
covered with linen rags and such like articles. But she turned away and
pulled out an old leather purse, and, taking out pieces of money, began to
count aloud on the counter: ‘One mark, two marks, three marks,’ till she
had finished her ten marks. ‘That makes ten marks,’ she said, and shoved
the little pile away. The clerk, who had watched the poor old woman while
she was arranging her small copper and silver coins, asked her,—‘From whom
does the money come?’
“ ‘From me,’ she said, and began counting again, ‘One mark, two marks,
three marks.’ Thus she went on emptying her purse, till she had counted
out ten small heaps of coin, of ten marks each. Then, counting each heap
once over again, she said: ‘These are my hundred marks for
Schleswig-Holstein; be so good as to send them to the soldiers.’
“While the old peasant woman was doing her sums, several persons had
gathered round her; and, as she was leaving the shop, she was asked again
in a tone of surprise from whom the money came.
“ ‘From me,’ she said; and, observing that she was closely scanned, she
turned back, and looking the man full in the face, she added, smiling: ‘It
is all honest money; it won’t hurt the good cause.’
“The clerk assured her that no one had doubted her honesty, but that she
herself had, no doubt, often known want, and that it was hardly right to
let her contribute so large a sum, probably the whole of her savings.
“The old woman remained silent for a time, but, after she had quietly
scanned the faces of all present, she said: ‘Surely it concerns no one how
I got the money. Many a thought passed through my heart while I was
counting that money. You would not ask me to tell you all? But you are
kind gentlemen, and you take much trouble for us poor people. So I’ll tell
you whence the money came. Yes, I have known want; food has been scarce
with me many a day, and it will be so again, as I grow older. But our
gracious Lord watches over us. He has helped me to bear the troubles which
He sent. He will never forsake me. My husband has been dead this many and
many a year. I had one only son; and my John was a fine stout fellow, and
he worked hard, and he would not leave his old mother. He made my home
snug and comfortable. Then came the war with the Danes. All his friends
joined the army; but the only son of a widow, you know, is free. So he
remained at home, and no one said to him, “Come along with us,” for they
knew that he was a brave boy, and that it broke his very heart to stay
behind. I knew it all. I watched him when the people talked of the war, or
when the schoolmaster brought the newspaper. Ah, how he turned pale and
red, and how he looked away, and thought his old mother did not see it!
But he said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him, Gracious God, who
could have thought that it was so hard to drive our oppressors out of the
land? Then came the news from Fredericia! That was a dreadful night. We
sat in silence opposite each other. We knew what was in our hearts, and we
hardly dared to look at each other. Suddenly he rose and took my hand, and
said, “Mother!”—God be praised, I had strength in that moment—“John,” I
said, “our time has come; go in God’s name. I know how thou lovest me, and
what thou hast suffered. God knows what will become of me if I am left
quite alone, but our Lord Jesus Christ will forsake neither thee nor me.”
John enlisted as a volunteer. The day of parting came. Ah, I am making a
long story of it all! John stood before me in his new uniform. “Mother,”
he said, “one request before we part—if it is to be”—“John,” I said to
him, “I know what thou meanest,—O, I shall weep, I shall weep very much
when I am alone; but my time will come, and we shall meet again in the day
of our Lord, John! and the land shall be free, John! the land shall be
free!” ’
“Heavy tears stood in the poor old woman’s eyes as she repeated her sad
tale; but she soon collected herself, and continued: ‘I did not think then
it would be so hard. The heart always hopes even against hope. But for all
that’—and here the old woman drew herself up, and looked at us like a
queen—‘I have never regretted that I bade him go. Then came dreadful days;
but the most dreadful of all was when we read that the Germans had
betrayed the land, and that they had given up our land with all our dead
to the Danes! Then I called on the Lord and said, “O Lord, my God, how is
that possible? Why lettest Thou the wicked triumph and allowest the just
to perish?” And I was told that the Germans were sorry for what they had
done, but that they could not help it. But that, gentlemen, I could never
understand. We should never do wrong, nor allow wrong to be done. And,
therefore, I thought, it cannot always remain so; our good Lord knows his
own good time, and in his own good time He will come and deliver us. And I
prayed every evening that our gracious Lord would permit me to see that
day when the land should be free, and our dear dead should sleep no more
in Danish soil. And, as I had no other son against that day, I saved every
year what I could save, and on every Christmas Eve I placed it before me
on a table, where, in former years, I had always placed a small present
for my John, and I said in my heart, The war will come again, and the land
will be free, and thou shalt sleep in a free grave, my only son, my John!
And now, gentlemen, the poor old woman has been told that the day has
come, and that her prayer has been heard, and that the war will begin
again; and that is why she has brought her money, the money she saved for
her son. Good morning, gentlemen,’ she said, and was going quickly away.
“But, before she had left the room, an old gentleman said, loud enough for
her to hear, ‘Poor body! I hope she may not be deceived.’
“ ‘Ah,’ said the old woman, turning back, ‘I know what you mean; I have
been told all is not right yet. But have faith, men! the wicked cannot
prevail against the just; man cannot prevail against the Lord. Hold to
that, gentlemen; hold fast together, gentlemen! This very day I—begin to
save up again.’
“Bless her, good old soul! And, if Odin were still looking out of his
window in the sky as of yore, when he granted victory to the women of the
Lombards, might he not say even now:—
“ ‘When women are heroes,
What must the men be like?
Theirs is the victory;
No need of me.’ ”
1864.