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A Little Garrison
A REALISTIC NOVEL _of_ GERMAN ARMY LIFE of TO-DAY
By FRITZ VON DER KYRBURG (Lieutenant Bilse) · _Translated, Edited and
with a Special Introduction by_ WOLF VON SCHIERBRAND Author of
"GERMANY: THE WELDING OF A WORLD POWER," "THE KAISER'S SPEECHES,"
ETC., ETC.
_NEW YORK_ · FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY · _Publishers_
_Copyright, 1904,_
BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY.
_All rights reserved._
This edition published in January, 1904.
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.
Contents
PAGE
INTRODUCTION vii
CHAPTER
I. An Evening Party at Captain König's 1
II. What Happened at the Casino Dance 29
III. The Consequences of a May Bowl 63
IV. The Case of Sergeant Schmitz 80
V. Officers at a Masquerade 140
VI. A Sensational Event stirs the Garrison 161
VII. An Airy Structure Collapses 207
VIII. Changes in the Garrison 264
IX. Resignations are in Order 282
X. Unto This Last 301
Introduction
In his book, _Le Débâcle_, Zola shows in a vivid and intelligible
manner the downfall of Napoleon III. and his army, and paints in his
usual matter-of-fact tints the actual condition of the great host led
forth to destruction. He makes us read in the soul of the common
French soldier and in that of his commanding officer. The keen
analysis of the characters he portrays enables us humanly to
understand the catastrophe on the plains of Sedan. The whole Second
Empire undermined by corruption; the army, head and front, honeycombed
with loose morals, favoritism, and boundless conceit,--we begin to
perceive the main reasons underlying the utter defeat of a gallant
nation. And this all the more when, side by side with the sombre
painting of Zola, we read the God-fearing letters written home from
the reeking battlefields by William I. and his Iron Chancellor.
Indeed, when the conquering German legions returned, in the spring of
1871, to their own firesides, they presented a body of men of whom any
nation might have been proud. Elated they were at their unparalleled
successes, but not puffed-up or vainglorious.
A generation has passed since then. Is the German army of to-day still
of the same metal? Does it, as a body, still show the same sterling
qualities which led it to victory after victory on the soil of France?
Alas, no. On that point the best and clearest minds in Germany itself
are agreed. Foreign military leaders who have had opportunity to watch
the German soldier of to-day at play and at work, have sent home
reports to their respective governments, saying: "These are not the
men that won in 1870!"
A couple of years ago several American officers of high rank, fresh
from the Philippines, witnessed the great autumn manoeuvres of the
German army, conducted under the supreme command of William II. One of
them, after viewing in stark amazement the senseless attacks of whole
cavalry divisions up steep declivities or down slippery embankments,
exposed all the while to a withering fire from the rifles of infantry
masses, said to the present writer: "If this were actual war, not a
horse or man would be left alive!"
In the Reichstag, the national parliament of Germany, many have been
the heated debates and scorching has been the bitter satire passed
during recent years upon the German army of to-day. And not only the
solid phalanx of Socialists did the criticising on such occasions, but
also not a few members of every other party, even including those of
the Conservative Faction, composed of men who are the very
representatives of the caste from which the Empire's corps of officers
have sprung.
The German newspaper press has sounded of late years, again and again,
the note of alarm, dwelling in scathing articles on signs of decadence
in the nation's whilom pride,--the army. It has pointed out the
growing spirit of luxury in its ranks, the wholesale abuse of power by
the officers and sergeants, the looseness of discipline, the havoc
wrought by "army usurers," the "money marriages," so much in vogue
with debt-ridden officers, the hard drinking and lax morals
prevailing, the gaming for high stakes, which is another festering
sore, and leads to the ruin of so many,--and a whole train of other
evils. The professional, that is, the military, press has joined in
this chorus in more subdued tones.
Throughout the length and breadth of the Empire a spirit of disquiet,
nay, of apprehension, has spread. Are the very foundations trembling
on which the reunited "fatherland" rests?
If any reliance can be placed on an unbroken chain of evidence it
would seem so indeed.
It was in 1786 that Frederick the Great died, leaving an army that he
had raised to the pinnacle of fame. With this army he had faced and
vanquished, standing at bay against almost the whole of continental
Europe, his powerful foes. Little Prussia, a straggling strip of
territory stretching from the ice-bound Niemen to the vine-clad Rhine,
Frederick's genius had lifted until it took rank with the powers that
prescribe laws to the world.
A score of years later, just one short score, the hills of Jena
looked down upon the crushing, disgraceful defeat of this same
Prussian army. The country was dismembered, and as a political force
ceased to exist. The heel of the Corsican despot was on its neck. Even
after the restoration of Prussia by the Vienna Congress in 1815, it
required another half-century to give her back her lost prestige.
Sadowa and Sedan reinstated Prussia, and with her the allied states of
Germany in her former glory.
* * * * *
Is another Jena coming?
Are we on the eve of another international upheaval?
* * * * *
A little book has recently appeared in Germany. Its title is
unpretentious. _Aus einer kleinen Garnison_ ("A Little Garrison") does
not sound very sensational. The book, besides, was written by a simple
lieutenant, Bilse by name. There was apparently nothing to arouse
public attention in its appearance.
And yet, from the instant of its publication, this little book _did_
arouse such attention; more than that, it grew into an enormous
sensational event, and led to developments of such a serious
character that their consequences will be felt for many years to come.
Indeed it seems likely that this little book will indirectly be the
means of the moral reformation of the entire German army.
Shortly after its appearance the authorship of Lieutenant Bilse, who
had written under the pen name of Fritz von der Kyrburg, was
discovered. A court-martial was promptly convened, and he was summoned
to appear before this military tribunal.
Mail reports now to hand of this memorable trial show that it created
intense interest in Germany, that it was regarded, indeed, as a _cause
célèbre_ of the first magnitude. The interest in the case was largely
due to the belief that Lieutenant Bilse's novel--for he had given his
terrible arraignment of the army the outward semblance of a
novel--presented a true, if highly unflattering, picture of conditions
as they exist in many German garrison towns. This impression was borne
out by the evidence, which tended to corroborate the account given by
Lieutenant Bilse of the moral tone and the standard of discipline
prevailing among the officers. Part of the revelations have not been
made public, as the examination of some witnesses was conducted _in
camera_. It is understood that their evidence was of a highly
sensational character.
In his examination, Lieutenant Bilse stated that since entering the
service he had "lost all his illusions concerning the character and
duties of an officer's calling." He declared that the social and
regimental tone of the frontier garrison towns was extremely low, and
that the repeated instances of lax discipline, favoritism, and loose
living which he had observed had provoked him to write his book.
In not a single instance were the facts of the various incidents and
events which form, grouped in a loose tissue, the body of his book
disproved or even weakened by the testimony produced at the trial.
Nevertheless the court-martial sentenced the young officer to six
months' imprisonment and to dismissal from the service "for libelling
his superior and commanding officers by the publication of writings in
a peculiarly offensive and damaging form, and also for a breach of
service regulations."
The lieutenant was undoubtedly guilty of a breach of regulations, as
an officer in Germany is prohibited from publishing any printed matter
except over his true name, and is required to give notice of his
intention to the military authorities,--a rule which the young man had
violated.
The German press, in its comments on the case, admits that it has an
importance far beyond the person of the accused.
The Berlin _Post_, one of the chief organs of the aristocracy in
Germany, said:
"In the interest of the army's good name it is urgently
requisite that abuses such as have been partly disclosed
should be speedily and thoroughly eradicated."
The Berlin _Tageblatt_, a leading paper, said:
"Lieutenant Bilse's book should be seriously pondered in
high places."
The _Vossische Zeitung_, one of the oldest and most respected journals
at the German capital, made this comment:
"That such things could be possible in German military corps
would have seemed impossible to the most malevolent critic
... the public confidence must be restored."
The Hamburg _Nachrichten_, Bismarck's old organ, says:
"We regret to admit that the picture is not overdrawn."
And that is the tenor of all the comment of the entire German press.
In the neighboring countries, in the house of Germany's friends,
Austria and Italy, the comment was even more outspoken; while in
France and Russia, although their political affiliations are not
precisely friendly to Germany, more forbearance was shown.
The Bilse book and the Bilse case have since formed the theme of
divers debates in the Reichstag. On an interpellation from some of the
delegates, the Minister of War, General von Einem, made some
interesting admissions. He did not deny that Bilse had stated, in the
guise of fiction, established facts; nor did he repudiate the
statement that the conditions described by the author existed in
duplicate form or worse in many garrisons of the empire.
The Kaiser himself was forced, much against his will, to take notice
of Bilse's book. A detailed report was made to him by the chief of his
Private Military Cabinet, General von Hülsen-Häseler, on all the
essential facts underlying the plot of _A Little Garrison_. He
expressed himself as much grieved at the terrible revelations in it.
In their totality they presented a state of facts of which he himself,
thoroughly acquainted as he had deemed himself to be with conditions
in his army, had been ignorant.
The immediate outcome of this conviction on his part was the issuance
of a secret decree directed to the various commanders of the
twenty-three army corps composing his army. In this decree he called
the attention of these commanders to the awful conditions laid bare in
Bilse's book, and bade them watch hereafter with greater zeal over the
morals and discipline of their various corps. The decree he ordered to
be read by each commanding colonel to his subordinate officers,
threatening with expulsion from the army any officer who should
hereafter be guilty of such heinous behavior as exemplified by the
characters in Bilse's book.
It might, therefore, be supposed that a thorough reform of the whole
moral status of the German army was now under way, or that it had been
at least initiated by this action of the Kaiser. Certainly, there is
no one in all Germany who takes a deeper interest than he in the
welfare of his army, or who has a profounder conviction of its
importance in maintaining the empire's proud position as a world
power. On many occasions the Kaiser has emphasized his belief that
this, "the most precious legacy" left him by his grandfather, must be
kept intact to secure his own throne and the nation's predominance in
the heart of Europe.
* * * * *
But it would be short-sighted to assume this. The causes that have
been at work for thirty years past, undermining and honeycombing the
whole structure of the German army, are too manifold, too much
ingrained in the very fibre of the German people of to-day, and too
complex to yield at the mere bidding of even so imperious a voice as
the Kaiser's. Bilse, in his book, lays a pitiless finger on the ulcers
that have been festering and growing in the bosom of the army; but his
story, after all, is that of only one small garrison, and refers to
but a brief period in the very recent past.
It may be worth while, in order to give the reader a more
comprehensive and more general view of conditions in the German army
of to-day, briefly to survey some patent facts.
The wide spread of the gambling spirit is one of these. Against it the
Kaiser has inveighed in army orders since his accession to the throne,
but all in vain. This evil spirit is as strong to-day as ever. It was
but a few years ago that a monster trial took place in Hanover. It
showed a frightful state of rottenness within even the most renowned
regiments--those of the Guard Corps, in which the scions of nobility
hold it an honor to serve. The details of this trial were a shock to
the whole country, and it ended by dismissal or expulsion from the
army of a score of officers bearing, some of them, the most ancient
and honored names within the empire. Even one of the Kaiser's own
aides-de-camp issued from it with a reputation so besmirched as to
lead to his hasty retirement. More recently still the Club of
Innocents (_Club der Harmlosen_) became the cynosure of all eyes, but
unenviably so. It was not, strictly speaking, a military club, but it
counted in its membership list a majority of active army officers. I
will not go into details, but merely mention that one of the chief
victims of the diabolical machinations practised by a number of
high-titled black-legs--officers of this club--was young Prince
Alfred, a grandson of the late Queen Victoria, whose complete moral
and physical ruin was wrought, soon followed by his death. The Jockey
Club in Berlin, made up largely of officers, and similar organizations
in Potsdam, Charlottenburg, Hanover, Cassel, Dresden, Brunswick,
Cologne, and, in fact, nearly every other garrison town of any
importance within the empire, have all had their list of scandals
during recent years,--scandals brought about by unprincipled gamesters
belonging to their corps of officers. Probably several thousands of
resignations, semi-enforced retirements, or outright dismissals from
the army have been due during the last decade to this one evil of
high play alone.
The hard drinking indulged in throughout the army, to a degree which
to the ignorant outsider seems incredible, is another evil of perhaps
as great magnitude. Of that Bilse's book gives a faithful impression.
For these excessive drinking habits, and in an equal degree for the
luxurious habits of life, more particularly the indulgence in sybarite
banquets, the Kaiser himself must be held largely to blame, since, by
force of example at the many "love feasts" (_Liebesmähler_) and
anniversary celebrations of every kind which he not only attends at
the quarters of the various regiments throughout the German domain,
but which he very frequently arranges for or encourages himself, he
has taught his army officers a direful lesson. Certainly, the old
Spartan simplicity in food and drink which prevailed in German army
circles during the days of William I., grandfather of the present
ruler, has gone forever.
A direct outgrowth of the luxuriousness prevalent in the German army
of to-day is two other evils which in their consequences on the
morals of the officers can scarcely be overrated. They are epitomized
by the two words "army usury" and "money marriages." To live beyond
one's means leads to indebtedness. And there we have the simple
genesis of the army usurer, so-called. He exists and thrives in every
garrison in the empire, and the broad swath he mows within the ranks
of the army testifies to his diligence and to his successful methods.
It would be going too far to expatiate on this matter. Suffice it to
say that the system by which the usurer brings hundreds, nay
thousands, to disgrace and premature retirement from the army, usually
involving the impoverishment of the officers' families, is wellnigh
perfection in itself. Within his net are driven, at some time or
other, the vast majority of the younger men as well as a great many of
the older ones.
The favorite avenue of escape offered to the young spendthrift officer
is a so-called money marriage. He barters himself, his social
position, and the prestige which the ownership of an old and honored
name still carries with it in Germany, for the gold which his bride
brings him on the wedding day. Dowries must of course correspond in
some measure with the load of debt the young officer has been
accumulating for years, and also with his claims to distinction and
attractiveness. Such dowries vary between a paltry twenty thousand and
several million marks, strictly according to circumstances. There is
an unwritten code in force in this respect, every paragraph of which
is made and provided to cover the individual needs of such impecunious
officers. The matter is well understood throughout the land, and is
looked upon as an established institution, something in which
squeamish scruples are not allowed to interfere with concrete
requirements. No German maiden consciously feels the shame of being
thus made purely an object of barter and sale. She is to the manner
bred. But of course good, fat dowries are often taken by officers,
together with brides, who in other respects by no means realize their
ideas of what a wife should be. Enough said on this dreary subject!
Still another evil, and one which of late has been much ventilated in
Germany, is the abuse of power by officers and non-commissioned
officers towards their subordinates. There has always been too much
of this in the German army, and it would carry us too far afield to
trace here the causes. In itself it seems a strange anomaly that in an
army which calls itself by the proud term of a "nation in arms," and
whose membership is recruited from every stratum of society, there
should be such wholesale maltreatment of the privates by their
superior officers. And yet such is the fact, inexplicable as it seems
at first sight. Against this curse the Kaiser has likewise launched
his thunderbolts at some time or other. But they have had no effect.
If anything there has been an increase in such cases.
At a Reichstag session, in the middle of December, the Kaiser's
spokesman, General von Einem, made the formal admission that during
the preceding year no fewer than fifty officers and five hundred and
seventy-nine non-commissioned officers had been court-martialed and
sentenced for cruelly maltreating their subordinates. When we reflect
that scarcely in one case out of every hundred formal charges are
preferred by the victims, who know themselves completely in the power
of their tyrannous masters, the official record thus stated is indeed
appalling. But here again the Kaiser himself, as chief commander of
the army, must be held largely responsible; for his more than lenient
treatment of the convicted offenders is nothing less than a direct
encouragement to their fellows to continue in these fiendish
practices. One sergeant, a man by the name of Franzki, belonging to
the Eighty-fifth Regiment of the Infantry, was shown at the trial to
have been guilty of no less than twelve hundred and fifty individual
cases of cruelty and of one hundred cases of abuse of power. Another
man, Lieutenant Schilling, of the Ninety-eighth Regiment of Infantry,
stationed in Metz, had a record against him of over a thousand such
cases. Both men were recently tried and convicted, and the degree of
their punishment seems strangely inadequate. Yet in most instances the
Kaiser does not even allow these convicted offenders to serve out
their brief terms of confinement, but issues free pardons to them
after they have undergone but a small portion of their penalty.
However, from several points of view, the most serious evil of all
that has grown up within the German army since the close of the
Franco-German War of 1870-1871 is the cleavage in sentiment between
the army and the nation. That also has been demonstrable on many
occasions during recent years. I recall the case of Lieutenant von
Brüsewitz, of Carlsruhe. This young officer ran his sword through the
back of a defenceless civilian by whom he fancied himself insulted in
a restaurant, the man dying within a few hours of the deed. His
murderer attempted no other exculpation, or indeed explanation, than
by saying that according to the army code of honor he was forced to
avenge on the spot the insult offered him. Brüsewitz was sentenced to
merely a mild type of confinement for a term of two years, but was
pardoned by the Kaiser at the expiration of a twelvemonth. A more
recent case was that of a young navy lieutenant who likewise stabbed
to death with his sword a former schoolfellow and townsman who had not
saluted him on the street with sufficient ceremoniousness. That, he
said, was his only reason for killing the man, and he, too, received a
very mild sentence. Even worse was the case of two officers quartered
in a small garrison of the province of East Prussia, close to the
Russian border. These men, being somewhat in liquor on New Year's Eve,
mortally wounded one civilian and gravely wounded another for no other
reason than that these men had shouted a song distasteful to them, the
whole occurrence happening in the street after midnight. The officers
got off with a ludicrously small punishment.
Such facts as these--and they could be multiplied indefinitely--show,
above all, one thing: the striking difference in the conception of
what is termed "honor" obtaining between the officers in the army and
the bulk of the population, the citizen element. The so-called "army
code" embodies views which it is euphemism to call mediæval--remnants
of the dark ages. And yet these views are not excused; no, they are
upheld and endorsed by the Kaiser, his government, and by the army in
a body.
The "code" also brings about that other absurdity, the army duel, as a
mode of settling all serious "affairs of honor." About that enough has
been written in Germany itself to fill whole libraries, and yet the
foolish thing continues. The Kaiser, grown up in all the prejudices of
caste as held by his ancestors and by the present generation of the
upper classes in Germany, has done nothing to eradicate this evil. The
provisions made by him, and now carried out, for regulating the
practice of duelling in his army, have had only the effect of
rendering the duel as an institution still more respectable.
The main reason which impelled me to secure the authority for
presenting his little work in an English dress was the fact that it
tells a truthful tale about an organization of such first-rate
importance as the German army. It paints that organization not only as
he himself saw it, but as in its essential features it really is. In
doing this Lieutenant Bilse has not only rendered an enormous service
to his own country,--as indeed many thousands of Germans are
recognizing to-day,--but he has also enabled the rest of the world to
gain a clear insight into the inner mechanism of the most powerful
fighting-machine in the world, has shown its hidden flaws, its grave
organic defects, and has thus permitted us truly to gauge its
inherent power. But interwoven with his criticism there is the hope,
nay the conviction, that the main part of the machine is still sound.
A book of this kind, "written from the inside," has a strong merit of
its own not to be measured by its purely literary qualities; for
these, I am free to admit, are not of the highest order. There is
talent in it, when considering that it is the first effort of a
literary tyro; but its great value lies in its intense realism,
interpreting that word in its higher sense.
I have been compelled to make some alterations and omissions in my
work of translation. The omissions have been due to the conviction
both of myself and of my publisher, that the author has in certain
instances given a mass of unnecessary details to which serious
objection might be urged, in this country at least, on the score of
clean literary taste. The alterations were either dictated by similar
considerations or grew indirectly out of them.
With these exceptions mentioned, however, my translation may fairly
claim to be true to the spirit of the original. Even the strictest
moralist will not cavil at seeing equivocal situations painted in
Bilse's book when his purpose in doing so has been the radical
exposure of ills existing in a body around which cluster so many
traditions of honor and duty well done as is the case with the German
army. And there is no excuse to be offered by me for furthering that
task.
WOLF VON SCHIERBRAND.
NEW YORK, JANUARY 1, 1904.
A Little Garrison
CHAPTER I
AN EVENING PARTY AT CAPTAIN KÖNIG'S
Standing in the centre of her parlor, a spacious and cosy one, Frau
Clara König let her eyes glide over the arrangements made for the
reception of her guests.
For this was her regular _soirée musicale_, when she saw assembled
about her, one evening each week, those of her more intimate friends
who dallied habitually with Euterpe, loveliest of the Muses. To-night,
however, her invitations had not been so restricted, for she had asked
some other families to come, largely for the laudable purpose of
admiring the musical achievements of the "artists."
Here she placed a chair in its proper place; there she smoothed with
tapering fingers one or the other of the tidies, products of her own
skilful needle, which, in every hue and size, adorned the furniture.
She tested the various lamps; opened and shut piano and parlor organ
to convince herself of the absence of dust; and finally minutely
inspected sundry vases, deftly manipulating their lovely contents, so
that each flower and each enfolding leaf stood out to greatest
advantage. This was one of her specialties. At none of her parties,
even in mid-winter, was there a lack of tastefully grouped nosegays
and bits of green on mantel and corner brackets.
Frau Clara was a woman of about thirty, with a well-proportioned
figure and a rather pretty, rosy face. Her lively blue eyes and a
wealth of well-groomed hair combined to give her a look of pleasant
youthfulness.
These last touches done, she seated herself on a low stool, for her
thoughts pronounced it all good.
And now the heavy drapery was thrust aside, and her husband
appeared--a tall man with a black moustache. He, too, came to attend
to his share of the preparations. He lit up the chandelier. Usually he
gauged the number of gas jets lit by the number of guests expected,
one for each. But inasmuch as there were only five jets and about a
dozen guests to come, he indulged in the luxury of igniting them all.
He did this with various groans at the latest outrageous gas bill, and
next inspected the stoves. Then he also sank down into a seat.
Albrecht König was captain in the cavalry regiment quartered in the
town. His squadron was always in apple-pie order, for he devoted to it
his entire energy during waking hours. Brief intervals of leisure he
filled by glancing at the _Deutsche Zeitung_, studying the
money-market reports, toiling in the large garden behind the house,
which he always kept in almost as good order as his squadron, and
superintending his hennery, the useful output of which he sold to his
wife at more than current prices.[1] And if there was nothing else to
do, he had scientific skirmishes with his nine-year-old, attended
wine-tests,[2] or practised on the piano, an instrument which he
played almost as well as might have been wished by his friends.
[1] This has reference to the not uncommon habit in German
households, especially those of officers and the higher
classes, of keeping husband's and wife's exchequer strictly
separate.--TR.
[2] "Wine tests." In the wine-growing districts of Germany
men possessed of a delicate "wine tongue" delight in
attending public or private meetings where new vintages are
sampled and their prices and marketable qualities
determined.--TR.
A noise in the hall told of the arrival of the first guest. A heavy,
dragging step and a snorting breath told them who it was. The door
opened, and Agricultural Counsellor von Konradi made his appearance. A
rather fleshy sort of man, with glasses on his aristocratic nose, over
the tops of which his eyes sought the lady of the house. His hair was
dyed a fine dark shade, and envy proclaimed that this was done on
account of the fair sex; for he was unmarried. His two ideals in life,
however, were a good dinner and several bottles of even a better wine
to go with it. Since he realized both of these ideals in the captain's
house, he was fond of going there. As to the rest, he was held to be a
gentleman.
While he was at the critical point in a story embodying his profound
grief at the arrival from his estate of a pheasant in a scandalously
unripe condition, the door opened again and admitted the spouse of
Captain Kahle.
Of a dainty, petite figure, and with a face that seemed to belong to
a _gamin_, she presented on the whole a graceful enough _ensemble_.
But there were two drawbacks--her rather large mouth was wreathed in a
stereotyped smile, and when she opened it it gave utterance to a voice
of somewhat unpleasant, strident timbre.
Three youngish men followed on her heels. The first of them was
Lieutenant Pommer, who was somewhat of a general favorite because of
his unaffected, frank demeanor. Occasionally it became a trifle rough
or rude; but you always knew where you had him. With special ardor he
saluted Frau Kahle, and it looked almost droll to watch the contrast
between him, a burly, corpulent fellow, and this tiny, fragile figure
that resembled a Dresden china shepherdess.
The second one was Lieutenant Müller. Those who did not know him could
have guessed from his stiff, self-contained mien that he must be the
regimental adjutant. Housewives dreaded him, for his appetite was
Gargantuan. With stoic defiance of all warning glances he was in the
habit of demolishing thrice the quantity of the daintiest eatables
apportioned to each guest. After everybody else had put down his
fork, his invariable way was to help himself once more liberally,
saying it was his favorite dish.
The last of the trio was Lieutenant Kolberg, an amazingly pale young
man with _moustaches à la Kaiser_. He led a life against which
moralists might have urged arguments, and there had been various
scandals connected with his past.
While the other guests were waited for, a few groups were being
formed. Lieutenant Kolberg approached Frau Kahle and measured her from
top to toe with approval. The adjutant made a clever attempt to find
out from the hostess what particular dishes were in store for him.
Having ascertained this, he at once swore they were his special
delectation. Herr von Konradi was chatting with Captain König about a
wine-testing trip into the Moselle district which they were jointly
planning in order to replenish their respective cellars.
Another lady entered, one whose corpulency and unskilfully powdered
face and arms made an unpleasing contrast with a badly fitting robe
of black and yellow. She ran up to Frau Clara and squeezed her hand in
her wobbly fingers, expressing joy at the invitation. To the gentlemen
who sidled up to her one after the other she extended that same chubby
hand with a fatuous smile, but holding it so high that they could not
do otherwise than touch it with their lips.
This was Frau Captain Stark, the latest spouse in the regiment, though
probably past the demi-century line.
Her lord, likewise of rotund shape, came after her. He wore a black
Vandyke beard, and his special forte was a carefully trained and
extremely long nail on the little finger. It was said that this nail
demanded a goodly portion of his leisure hours. His voice told its own
story of bonhommie and unctuous Rhine wine.
Behind this couple hove in sight the figure of the commander.
Everybody stepped aside with a show of deference, and all around he
was saluted with deep bows, while he slowly stepped up to Captain
König and his lady. The bowlegs and the robust body were not relieved
by a face of finer mould, and thus it was that Colonel von Kronau
scarcely corresponded with the popular conception of a dashing cavalry
officer. Most striking about him was a tear that permanently glistened
in the corner of his eye. This tear he always allowed to grow to a
certain size, when he would, by a dexterous motion born of long
practice, propel it from its resting-place over at his _vis-à-vis_,
either at the latter's feet or in his face, as the case might be. It
largely depended on the size of the tear and the rank of his
_vis-à-vis_.
The lady who accompanied him and who had the face and manners of a
governess was his better half. She had squeezed herself on this
occasion into a dowdy dress of pearl-gray silk, with a purple collar
of velvet.
Almost simultaneously the remainder of the invited personages filed
in. There was First Lieutenant Borgert. His shifting eyes seldom
looked squarely at any one whom he deigned to address. He was fleshy,
but his movements were nevertheless elastic and suave. Behind him
stood First Lieutenant Leimann, under-sized and prematurely bent, with
a neck several sizes too short for him and a suspicion of deformity
between the shoulders. A pear-shaped head protruded from between them,
fitfully lit up by a pair of pig's eyes, which either restlessly shot
glances or else were so completely buried under their lids as to
become invisible. A monocle hung down his bosom from a broad ribbon,
but he never used it, for fear of becoming ridiculous.
These two gentlemen dwelt together in the same house, each occupying a
floor, and were inseparables. Though perennially short of cash, they
saw no reason to deny themselves the luxuries of this mundane sphere.
On the contrary, they lived like heirs to great fortunes.
"Pardon me, my gracious lady,"[3] remarked Leimann to the hostess,
"but my wife could not come immediately, having her old
complaint--nervous headache, you know!" In saying this he made a face
as though he didn't himself believe what he was saying. "But she will
doubtless come a bit later."
[3] "My gracious lady"--"Gnädige Frau"--a term of politeness
used to-day indiscriminately in Germany toward married
women.--TR.
"Sorry to hear it," Frau Clara sweetly answered, "but I hope she will
soon feel well enough to appear."
After little Lieutenant Bleibtreu, a special friend of the house and
the only subaltern in Captain König's squadron, had in his turn
saluted everybody, the servant announced that the meal was served. The
diners, in couples, ranged strictly according to rank, passed in. The
dining-room looked cheerful, and the table had been arranged with Frau
Clara's customary taste.
Everybody having been served, conversation started slowly. "The
weather has turned so fine of late that we can commence playing
tennis," remarked Frau Colonel von Kronau.
"Certainly," chimed in her husband, masticating vigorously. "I shall
call a meeting of the club next week, and then nothing will stand in
the way."
"Charming!" enthusiastically fluted Frau Stark. "I love it
passionately, and you, of course, will all join in? You, my dear Frau
Kahle, were one of the most zealous members last season. And how is it
with you, Frau König?"
"I'll have to forego the pleasure," she replied, "for it does not
agree with me."
"And your husband?"
"I don't know how to play," the captain said; "but I like to watch
graceful ladies at it."
Frau Stark bit her lips and shot an angry glance at the captain. "What
did he mean by 'graceful ladies,' anyway?" she thought. That was meant
for her, no doubt. And she remembered unpleasant comment made because
she with her fifty years had started riding a patient old mare
belonging to her husband's squadron. One of the sergeants was giving
her lessons.
"Some civilians, I believe, will join," broke in the colonel. "I will
have a list circulating."
Everybody knew this was buncombe, the colonel being extremely
unpopular in civilian circles, and they smiled incredulously.
"I will join you," said Herr von Konradi, "provided the heat is not
excessive. Next week, however, I have no leisure. I must sow my peas,
or it will be too late."
"Yes," put in König, "or they will not thrive."
"What? Not thrive? Peas will always turn out well if properly
attended to," said the colonel's wife, with a touch of asperity.
"I fear I must contradict you, my gracious lady," retorted the
captain. "Last year's did not turn out well anywhere."
"They must be sowed at moonlight, and not a word be spoken, then they
will do finely, every time," said the Frau Colonel, eagerly. "But
don't imagine that I am superstitious. I am simply stating a fact."
It was a bold thing to do, for whatever the colonel's wife said must
not be gainsaid, yet Lieutenant Bleibtreu could not help it. He
laughingly said: "Sowing, therefore, bacon in between while the sun is
shining, we'll have one of my favorite dishes ready made."
The colonel's lady merely transfixed him with an envenomed stare.
After a dramatic interval she resumed: "But, come to think of it, I
myself won't have leisure next week. My goose-liver _pâtés_ are not
yet finished."
"You prepare them yourself?" asked the agricultural counsellor with
deep interest.
"Of course. I do up six potfuls every year. The colonel dotes on this
kind of stuff."
"And where do you procure your truffles, may I ask? I am myself
looking for a trustworthy person."
"Truffles? Nonsense, it tastes every bit as good without them--that is
all imagination."
"Oh, but you must excuse me, my gracious lady; truffles are the very
soul of a goose-liver _pâté_. Without them it is insipid--'Hamlet'
with Hamlet left out."
"'Hamlet'?" rejoined the lady with the governess face. "We were
talking of truffles."
Herr von Konradi shrugged his shoulders. Nobody else said a word. Just
then Frau First Lieutenant Leimann entered. She looked as fresh and
bright as the morning star.
"A thousand pardons, Frau König," she smiled, "but I had to finish
some important letters." And she sat down in the place reserved for
her.
"We heard you were suffering from headache," was the general remark.
"Headache? Yes, I forgot--I did have it. But that is such an old story
with me that I scarcely think of mentioning it any more."
She was a handsome young woman, and the fact was made more apparent
by the really tasteful gown she wore.
During all this time the adjutant had not said a word. He attended
strictly to the business that had brought him here. His voracity
attracted no attention, because everybody was used to it. Off and on
he merely emitted a species of grunt in token of approval or dissent
of what had been said. He was still eating when the hostess finally
gave the signal to rise. Then everybody wished everybody else a
"blessed digestion,"[4] and made for the adjoining rooms, where the
ladies were served with coffee and the men with cordials, beer, and
cigars.
[4] "Blessed digestion"--"Gesegnete Mahlzeit"--is the
universal greeting in Germany after meals.--TR.
Informal chatting was indulged in. The colonel, after briefly
despatching a trifling matter connected with the service, for which
purpose he retained Müller, who was fairly oozing with good cheer,
retired to a quiet corner with Frau Stark. Since their conversation
was carried on in whispers, First Lieutenant Borgert, despite
strenuous efforts to overhear, could only catch a phrase or a single
word from time to time.
"You _must_ manage it," he heard her say.
"Let us hope that the annual inspection will turn out well," replied
the colonel. "Last time our direct superiors were finding fault with
your husband. It began in the stables, and I heard some talk about
it."
"Never mind all that, Colonel, my husband _must_ be promoted to be
major. I tell you plainly, if you drop him I shall--"
"Have no fears, my most gracious lady. I have given him a very
brilliant report, though he doesn't deserve it, as you know. But I
shall do my best."
"And you owe me your best, Colonel, as you very well know, for without
me you would be to-day--"
Captain König came up.
"Will the Herr Colonel not accompany us next week on a wine-testing
trip up the Moselle? Agricultural Counsellor von Konradi will make one
of the party. Some exquisite growths are to be sold."
"Certainly, my dear König. You know that I always join in such
expeditions. And with you in particular I like to go, for your dinner
has shown me once more that you own a faultless 'wine tongue.'"
"Very flattering, Colonel. But I see you are still cigarless;
everything is laid out in my room."
The colonel stepped into the next room. Frau Kahle was flirting with
Lieutenant Pommer in one corner, while several young men were doing
that with the pretty hostess in the other corner. Just then First
Lieutenant Leimann entered from the dining-room, and behind him his
spouse, making a wry face. Her mien became sunny, however, when First
Lieutenant Borgert stepped up to her and inquired with solicitude as
to the cause of grief.
"Oh! The usual thing," she snapped. "My husband has scolded me. You
know his ungentlemanly ways. Always rude and offensive."
"What was the trouble this time?"
"Merely the fact that I had excused my lateness at table by pleading
unfinished letters, while he had urged a headache. I am tired of his
eternal fault-finding."
"That is valid reason for a divorce, my bewitching lady," smiled
Borgert. "Look for another husband if you are tired of the present
one."
She peered into his face inquiringly. "You don't imagine how serious I
am."
"Ah, if that's the case, my dear lady, there is no time like the
present for planning a change. How, for instance, would I do for a
substitute? Now, honor bright?" and he playfully fondled her plump
little hand.
She took this just as smilingly. "Before I answer," she said,
coquettishly lowering her eyelids, "I must know what you have to offer
me."
"Let us sit down then and discuss this most alluring topic in its
various bearings," laughingly remarked he; and he led her to a divan,
where they sat down side by side.
"Now, then, pay close attention, please," continued he. "I offer you
an elegant home, a neat turnout, a tolerably groomed nag, a villa on
Lake Zurich, and a host of serving genii."
"And who is to pay for it all?"
"Pay?" His wonderment was great. "Pay for it? Why, what is the use of
doing that? It has become unfashionable, and besides, so much good
money is frittered away by paying. _I_ never pay, and yet I manage to
live pretty comfortably."
"All very well, but there is my husband to think of besides," joked
the pretty woman.
"Of course you still have him; but meanwhile you might try and
accustom yourself to me--as his successor, you know."
Frau Leimann nodded cheerfully and then buried her empty little head
in her hand, dreamily scanning the carpet. The others had left the two
in sole possession of the room. The eyes of the officer sought hers,
and there was a peculiar expression in them when they met.
"Why do you look at me that way?" said she. "You make me almost fear
you."
"Afraid of your most dutiful slave?" whispered he, and his breath
fanned her cheek. "Ah, no. But do not forget our conversation,
loveliest of women. Things spoken in jest often come true in the end."
She looked up and smiled as if enchanted at the idea. Then she rose,
and when he grasped one of her hands she made no effort to wrest it
away. He imprinted a long-drawn kiss on it. She shivered and then
rapidly glided into the adjoining room, where the jumble of sounds
produced by tuning a variety of musical instruments was now heard. The
strident notes of violins, the rumbling boom of a cello, and the
broken chords of a piano were confusedly mingling, and the male guests
were slowly dropping in or taking up a position, a half-smoked Havana
or cigarette between the lips, just outside the door, so as to combine
two sources of enjoyment. Borgert had remained behind in the next
room, and was now studying intently a letter the contents of which
plunged him in a painful reverie. At last he put back the letter in
his breast pocket, audibly cursing its sender, and then joined the
group nearest him.
At the parlor organ Captain König was seated, while his wife had taken
charge of the piano accompaniment. Herr von Konradi and First
Lieutenant Leimann stood ready with their violins, while Lieutenant
Bleibtreu, the violoncello pressed between the knees, occupied the
rear. The auditors, at least the majority of them, were comfortably
ensconced in chairs or sofas, near the mantelpiece, and around a
table on which a small battery of beer mugs, steins, and tankards was
solidly planted.
They began to play: a trio by Reinhardt. It sounded well, for the
performers had practised their respective parts thoroughly. But there
were some disturbing factors, as is always the case with amateurs. The
unwieldy agricultural counsellor rose on his creaking boots with every
note he drew, and frequently snorted in his zeal. Leimann, too, was
one of those one must not look at while performing, for his
queer-shaped head had sunk between his shoulders and his bowed back
presented a rather unæsthetic picture. The cellist, whose fingers were
rather thick, occasionally grasped the wrong string, but tried to make
up for this by bringing out the next tones with doubled vigor. The
trio was followed by violin solos, and lastly by a Liszt rhapsody,
played by the Königs with warm feeling and sufficient technique.
For _finale_ the small audience overwhelmed the players with praise,
and some more or less correct remarks were made about the different
compositions.
"Oh, my dear Lieutenant Bleibtreu," cried Frau Stark, "I must resume
my cello practice with you. It is such a soulful instrument, and I
used to play it with tolerable proficiency in my younger days."
Bleibtreu made a grimace, and Captain König whispered to him that the
elderly lady was unable to distinguish one note from another.
Borgert had looked on nonchalantly from the door during the concert.
Once in a while he glanced sharply at Frau Leimann, who was cosily
reclining in an arm-chair, her eyes half closed, a prey to thoughts.
The players had now taken seats at the large table, and the
conversation turned to trivial affairs of the day, the Frau Colonel
assuming the lion's share of it, for she was decidedly talkative. Thus
another hour passed; and when the clock on the mantel marked half-past
ten, Colonel von Kronau gave his better half a look of understanding,
and the latter slightly nodded in reply, and rose, saying to the lady
of the house, with a smile:
"Dear Frau König, it was charming of you to prepare such an enchanting
evening for us. But it is time for us to be going. Many thanks!"
The hostess made some polite objections; but when she saw that the
Starks too, and the agricultural counsellor began to take formal
leave, she desisted from any further attempts to retain her guests,
not dissatisfied, on the whole, that but a small circle remained. For
with them it was not necessary to weigh words as carefully as in the
presence of the colonel. It frequently happened that he, the day after
a social gathering, took occasion to reprove his captains and
lieutenants for a careless turn of phrase or for something which he
construed as a lack of respect shown to him or his wife.
Those five gone, the others moved their chairs closer together around
the table, and some fresh, foaming nectar was served. Borgert started
the talk.
"Did you notice how this Stark woman again had a whispered confab with
the colonel?" he said. "Such manners I think they ought to leave at
home, for there they are not very particular. Just fancy, the other
day I was witness when Stark threw a slipper at his wife, and she on
her part had received me in a horribly soiled and frowzy morning
gown."
"I saw worse than that," interrupted Leimann. "Last week they had in
my presence one of their frequent matrimonial disagreements, and the
fat one, her husband, clinched the matter by shouting at her: 'Hold
your tongue, woman!' A nice, lovable couple, those two!"
"Anyway, it seems as if she lorded it over him pretty effectually,"
broke in the adjutant. "Day before yesterday Stark had had his fill at
the White Swan, and when he became a trifle noisy and quarrelsome his
wife arrived on the scene and behaved simply disgracefully. Finally
she tucked him under her arm and took him home amidst the shouts and
laughter of the other guests. I don't think their meeting at home can
have been an angelic one."
"That sort of thing happens every little while," remarked Pommer; "at
least at the Casino[5] she appears whenever he does not depart
punctually at mealtime, and calls him hard names before the very
orderlies."
[5] "Casino"; the military club houses are so called.--ED.
"Well, she is keeping a sharp eye on him just now," said Captain
König, good-humoredly, "for he wants to get his promotion as major,
or, rather, it is her ambition to become Frau Major."
"Why, there can be no idea of that," interjected Borgert, with a great
show of righteous indignation. "If this totally incapable idiot
becomes major I ought to be made at least a general. Though it is
queer that the colonel is evidently moving heaven and earth in his
behalf."
"Good reason why," retorted Leimann, calmly.
"How so?"
"Don't you know the story? And yet it is in everybody's mouth."
"Then tell us, please, because we know not a word of it, and I scent
something fiendishly interesting!" And Borgert rubbed his hands in
anticipation.
"Why, last year the colonel had, with his usual want of tact, insulted
a civilian--a gentleman, you know. The latter sent him a challenge.
Our good colonel began to feel queer, for while he is constantly
doing heroic things with his mouth, he is by no means fond of risking
his skin. So after some talk with her, this Stark woman went to see
the gentleman in question as peacemaker. She told him that the colonel
was really innocent in the whole matter, and that she herself had been
the cause of the trouble, having spread a false report under an
erroneous impression. She managed to tell her yarn with so much
plausibility as entirely to deceive and bamboozle the other party, who
thereupon withdrew his challenge with expressions of his profound
regret. So, you see, she saved the colonel's life, for the civilian is
known as a dead shot. Since then she has the colonel completely in her
power, and no matter what she tells him to do, he executes her orders
like a docile poodle dog,--a fact which we all see illustrated every
day."
"Well, that explains the whole mystery, of course," delightedly
shouted Borgert. "Don't you know any more such stories? For it is
really high time to call a halt. He has manners like a ploughboy's,
and she like a washerwoman's. I'll collect a few more tales of the
sort. It is simply shameful that one must submit to the dictation of
this woman."
"There are rumors that she had peculiar relations with a well-known
nobleman in her younger days; but I know nothing positive, mind you."
"Where in the world did you hear that now?"
"My military servant told me. He happens to hail from the neighborhood
she comes from."
* * * * *
During this delectable interchange of gossip the wife of First
Lieutenant Leimann had listened with gleaming eyes and heightened
color; it seemed wonderfully interesting to her. Captain König, on the
other hand, sucked his cigar thoughtfully, and his wife toyed with the
embroidered border of the table-cover.
"Why so lost in thought, my gracious lady?" Borgert said.
"I was merely wondering what stories you gentlemen might hatch against
_us_," she said with some dignity.
He was about pathetically to disclaim any such fell designs, when it
was noticed that Frau Kahle had risen to bid farewell, and with her
Lieutenant Pommer, whose escort home she had accepted, her husband
being off on a short official trip.
They were barely gone, when Borgert remarked:
"I think we ought to subscribe for this poor Kahle woman, just enough
to enable her to buy a new dress. I don't think she has anything to
wear besides this faded, worn-out rag of hers. I am sick of seeing
it."
"But you ought to see her at home," interjected Müller, in a minor key
of disdain. "There she looks worse than a slovenly servant girl. And
she doesn't seem to find time to patch up her dirty gown, while her
boy, the only child she has, runs about the streets like a cobbler's
apprentice from the lower town. One thing, though, that urchin _does_
know--he can lie like Satan."
"Inherited from his mother, of course," remarked Borgert, when a cold
and reproachful look out of Frau Clara's eyes made him stop in the
middle of his sentence. There was an embarrassed silence for a minute,
and when the talk was resumed it no longer furnished such
"interesting" material. Captain König's yawning became more
pronounced, and Leimann was leaning back in his chair, dozing, with
mouth half open. His wife, too, showed unmistakable signs of ennui,
now that the scandal she loved no longer poured forth. Her features, a
moment ago smooth and animated, now looked worn and aged, losing all
their charm. Müller was still digesting audibly, and hence it seemed
the proper moment for adjourning.
Amid unanimous assurances that "this has been the most enjoyable
evening this season," the leave-taking was finally effected, and the
captain accompanied his last guests down the stairs, and returned
after shooting the strong bolt at the house door.
As he turned off the gas in the drawing-room, he said to Frau Clara:
"Quite interesting, this evening! These are two gentlemen we shall
have to be on our guard against."