Tells how the Amtshauptmann and the French Colonel nearly embraced
each other; how my Mother pulled the Amtshauptmann by the tail of
his coat; and how the Corsican dragon carried off my Father and
my uncle Herse.
When the Herr Amtshauptmann left the Court of Justice, he went straight
across to the other side of the hall to a place where he had often been
before and often came afterwards, namely my mother's room--for we lived
in the Rathhaus.
My mother sat knitting, and we children were playing about her; for
what do children know of cares? But she was sad and anxious; she sat
there silent and perhaps did not even hear the noise which we were
making round her. She probably still knew nothing of the difficulty in
which my father was, for it was not his custom to tell all his little
troubles; but there is a curious fact about women--a man may see at
once which way the wind blows, but a woman will have known a long time
before that a change was at hand.--Well, the old Herr came into my
mother's room and said,--
"Good morning, my dear friend. How are you? Much troubled with all
these Frenchmen? What say you, eh?"
My mother held out her hand to him. She was very fond of the fine old
man who used to come and sit by her side for many an hour, pouring out,
in his simple and open-hearted way, the experience of his grey hairs.
Not but what he was merry and lively enough when he related the
exploits of his Jena student-days, and what he and his brother, Adolph
Diedrich,--"The Professor _juris utriusque_ at Rostock, my friend--"
had done in their students-society, the "amici." My mother held out her
hand to him, for she could not get up; she had become lame during a
severe illness, and I never saw her otherwise than,--when she was at
her best,--sitting on a chair knitting away as industriously as if her
poor, weak hands were strong and well; or,--at her weaker times,--lying
in bed, in pain, reading her books. What the books were which she read,
I know no longer; but novels they were not; I only remember this much,
that the Herr Amtshauptmann's Marcus Aurelius was sometimes amongst
them, for I had to carry it backwards and forwards.
It was not the Amtshauptmann's habit needlessly to alarm women, and so
instead of talking about the troubles in the Court of Justice, he began
about the bad weather, and he was just giving a short description of
the pools in the Stemhagen market-place--for it was not paved in those
days,--when the door opened and the French colonel came in. He made my
mother a stiff bow, and advanced towards the Amtshauptmann.
We children left our playthings and crept, in a little knot, into the
corner behind the tile-stove, like chickens when a kite is overhead,
and wondered what this meant. Probably my mother also wondered, for she
gazed anxiously at the old Herr in whose face there was a cold, haughty
look that she had never seen before.
But the Colonel did not take it ill, and there was a friendly
politeness in his tone as he said to the old gentleman, "I beg your
pardon. I heard just now in the court the name of 'Weber.' Is your name
'Weber?'"
"Joseph Heinrich Weber," replied the Amtshauptmann shortly and stood as
erect as a pillar.
"Have you not a brother named 'Adolph Diedrich?'"
"Adolph Diedrich, professor at Rostock," answered the old Herr without
moving a limb.
"Herr Amtshauptmann," said the French officer and stretched out both
hands towards him, "let what passed between us this morning be
forgotten. You are dearer to me than you think. I have read a name on
your stick that is engraved deeply in my heart. Look here 'Renatus von
Toll!'"
"And you know that man?" asked the old Herr, and it was as if the sun
had risen over his face.
"How should I not?" said the Colonel, "why, he is my father."
"What!" exclaimed the Amtshauptmann. "What say you, eh? What say you,
eh?" And he held the colonel out at arm's length and looked into his
eyes. "You the son of Renatus von Toll?"
"Yes, and he has often spoken to me of his two best friends, 'the
Webers,' 'the tall Mecklenburgers.'"
"My friend," cried the old Herr, turning to my mother, "of whom have I
talked to you oftenest? What say you, eh? Of the fine Westphalian,
Renatus?"
My mother nodded her head; she could not speak, for there was something
in the old gentleman's delight that brought the tears into her eyes;
and we silly youngsters came out from behind the stove and grew bolder,
and it all seemed to us as happy as if one of our cousins had come.
"My boy, my boy!" cried the Amtshauptmann, "I ought to have known you,
if the damned French uniform.... No, no, I did not mean to say that,"
he added quickly as he saw the blood rush into the Colonel's face.
"Tell me, my boy, has your father still the clear brown eyes? What say
you, eh? Has he still the curly brown hair?--Such a splendid man he
was, my friend!" said he to my mother, "God has written the word 'man'
on his forehead."
The Colonel now said that the brown eyes were still there, but that the
hair had turned white.
"True, true," said the Amtshauptmann, "of course. It must be so; Adolph
Diedrich's is quite grey too. But now, friend, you must come up to the
Schloss with me and stop there awhile. God knows, this is the first
time that I ever invited a French officer to stay with me. But you are
not properly a French officer, you are a German.--The son of Renatus
von Toll can only be an honest German, my friend," he said turning to
my mother. "What say you, eh?"
My mother had seen that the Colonel turned hot and cold alternately
during this speech of the Amtshauptmann's, and she had made all manner
of signs to him, but in vain; and, on his coming nearer to her, as he
asked the last question, she plucked him gently by his coat-tail as a
sign to him to be quiet. At this, the old Herr turned sharply round and
asked--
"Why are you pulling me?"
It was now my mother's turn to be red. But, in the meanwhile, the
colonel had recovered himself; he made a sort of half-bow to my mother,
and said firmly and earnestly to the old Herr,--"I must refuse your
invitation, Herr Amtshauptmann, for we march in half an hour. And, as
concerns this uniform which does not please you,--and cannot please
you, I grant it--I cannot dishonour it by taking it off in the hour of
danger. You say that I am a German, my father's son must be a
German--you are right--but, if you regard it as a crime that I am on
the other side, you must lay the blame on my sovereign and not on me.
When I became a soldier, the Elector of Cologne was in league with the
Emperor; and when I went to Spain four years ago the whole of Germany
and all her princes lay at his feet. I returned from Spain three weeks
ago, and I find Germany quite changed. What I have felt concerns myself
alone, and if there is any human soul to whom I can speak of it, it can
only be my father. For my father's oldest friend this must be enough;
it is more than I have said to any other human being."
The old Herr had been standing at the beginning of this speech, looking
the Colonel straight in the face, and every now and then giving a shake
of his head; but, as he became aware that there was a sad earnestness
in the young man's face, his eyes sought another place to rest on, and
when the Colonel had ended, he said, "That's quite another matter;" and
he leant towards my mother and said, "My friend, what say you, eh? He
is right, is he not? Renatus von Toll's son is right. Pity, that he
_is_ right!" and he took the Colonel by the hand: "My dear young
friend,--and so you cannot stay here?" And, on the colonel's assuring
him that it was not possible, he cried out to me, "Fritz, boy, you can
run an errand for me; run to Neiting--to the Frau Amtshauptmann,--and
tell her to come down here, something joyful has happened. Do you hear?
Say something _joyful_. She might else be anxious, my friend," he added
to my mother.
Well, away I ran as fast as I could up to the Schloss, and it was not
long before the Frau Amtshauptmann was walking along by my side slowly
and quietly as was her wont, and I hopped round about her like a little
water-wagtail, so that she had enough to do to keep me from under the
waggons and from the horses' feet.
As we crossed the market-place the French were fast getting ready to
march. The guns stood there with the horses fastened to them; the
battalion was formed into line; and one could see that they were on the
point of starting.
The Frau Amtshauptmann went into the Rathhaus, but she did not get far,
for she was seized upon in the hall by Mamsell Westphalen and the two
maids; and, before she knew where she was going, she was in the midst
of complaints, about "murder and killing," from Witte the baker, and
Droz, and Miller Voss, each one telling her his story; and round them
and their complaints, gathered Herr Droi's wife and children, crying
and entreating; and the Frau Meister Stahl caught Mamsell Westphalen by
the skirt of her gown, as if Mamsell were going to spring into the
water, and she must save her from suicide. Witte still every now and
then fired off a "robbers," but there was not more than half a charge
of powder left in him, and, when he saw the grief of the watchmaker's
wife, he thought of his own family, and called to me;--
"Fritz, will you run over to my house, my boy? You shall have a bun for
it,--and call to my son Johann and my daughter Struewingken, and tell
them they are to come over here, for the rascally French are going to
take me to their God-forgotten country as they have already done my
brown five-year-old."
I gave the message, and when I came back again with Struewingken and
Johann and the bun, there were Miller Voss's cousin Heinrich and the
Miller's wife and Fieka in Heinrich's cart before the Rathhaus; for,
after all, the mounted Gensdarmes had found their way to the Gielow
Mill at last and had cleared out the nest. Now the sobbing and crying
began again, and the only one who remained quiet was Fieka. She asked
her father softly,--
"Have you given up the money?"
The Miller pointed towards the court of justice, and said, "It lies
there."
"Then be of good heart, father; God will not forsake us."
During the whole of this time, my father had been walking up and down
the hall wrapped in his own thoughts. He cannot have been easy in his
mind, for he constantly stopped for a moment and passed his hand
through his hair when he heard the wailing of the women, and once he
went up to Herr Droi and told him he need not be alarmed as things did
not look badly for him.
Herr Droi nodded his head and said, "Bon!" became a whole inch taller,
planted one leg out in front of the other, and put one arm confidently
akimbo.
It seemed now as if everything was ready for marching, for the Adjutant
called the colonel out of my mother's room. When the colonel came out
his face had become pleasant again, and he went, with the
Amtshauptmann, towards the prisoners and ordered that Mamsell
Westphalen and the two maids should be set free; and Mamsell Westphalen
ducked three times by way of curtseying and said--"I thank you, Herr
Colonel von Toll."
The Herr Amtshauptmann caught sight of his wife in the crowd, and set
her also free and, scarcely had he introduced her to the Colonel and
told her what had happened, when the Adjutant gave the commands to
march and Miller Voss, Witte the baker and Herr Droz to bring out.
Fieka had taken her father's arm, and would not let it go. They forced
her away from him, but she remained quite quiet and said, "Father, I
shall stay by you wherever they may take you."
For the baker it was easier work; he spat three times, let off at
random a few "rogues and vagabonds," told Johann shortly what he was to
do, and went out. But, with the watchmaker the case was very sad: his
wife and children hung about him, and cried, in French and German, till
it would have moved the very stones to pity.
My father could now stand it no longer; he stepped forward, and asked
upon what ground the watchmaker was to be led away prisoner. The man
was a naturalised citizen, and had never in his life committed any
crime. No one could reckon it as a crime that he had slept up at the
Schloss, for the Herr Colonel and the Herr Adjutant had also slept up
there. As to his having on the uniform, why that was natural, seeing
that he had served under the French, and his still putting it on now
and then could not be taken ill by them, for the man showed by doing so
that he still thought with pleasure of the time when he had worn it in
their ranks.
"He has abused the uniform!" shouted the Adjutant.
My father cried back that it was not true; that it was no abuse, when
anyone got rid of a pack of thieves and rascals by an innocent trick;
and the proof that they had had to deal with fellows of that sort was
to be found in the Chasseur's valise.
The Adjutant looked at my father savagely and spitefully, as if he
would have liked to run him through the body, the colonel stepped up
with a face in which a thunderstorm was gathering, and made a sign with
his hand to lead away the watchmaker; but my father sprang forward and
cried,--"Stop! The man is innocent, and if any one here is guilty, it
is I, for it was at my command that he acted. If anyone is to be
arrested for it, you must arrest me."
"Be it so," said the colonel coldly, "let that man free, and take this
one here."
"My friend," cried the Herr Amtshauptmann, "what are you doing?"
"My duty, Herr Amtshauptmann," said the Colonel and gave him his hand.
"Farewell, Herr Amtshauptmann, my time is up," and so saying, he went
out of the house.
The whole thing was done so quickly that the greater number of those
who were there did not know what the question was. I least of all, for
I was still but a little mite then; but I understood enough to see that
my father had got himself into danger. Naturally, I now began to cry,
and just as the little Droi's were drying their tears, mine were
running down my cheeks. I followed close on my father's heels as he was
pushed out into the street; the Amtshauptmann also followed.
"Herr Amtshauptmann," said my father, "comfort my poor wife. And you
Fritz," he said to me, "go and fetch my hat."
I ran in, and got the hat, and when I brought it to him, he lifted me
up and kissed me and whispered in my ear, "Tell your mother I shall
soon be back again."
The procession now set off, two men in front and two behind and, in the
middle, Miller Voss, Witte the baker, and my father. As they passed by
the engine-house, the door opened, and who should come out, but my
uncle, the Rathsherr Herse, also with two men; for the colonel of
artillery had had him locked up there on account of the escape of the
peasants with their teams.
"Why, Herr Rathsherr, what has happened to you?" said my father.
"It's for the Fatherland, Herr Burmeister," cried my uncle Herse, "I
entered into a conspiracy with Mamsell Westphalen; and now the Corsican
dragon has got me in his claws; but it really is because of Miller
Voss's horse and cart and the stupid old peasants."
They now briefly told each other their stories, and my uncle Herse
marched down the street, with his cocked hat and red collar, so
majestically that he looked almost as if he were commanding the whole.
My uncle Herse was no coward; he was not afraid; he regarded this as a
day of the greatest glory to him and, looking as if he had grown a
couple of inches taller from the rain during the night, he walked along
the Brandenburg road, greeting right and left, Christians and Jews. He
winked to the Captain of the Fire Brigade not to betray what he knew;
and put his finger to his lips as he passed by Solomon's the Jew as a
sign that he was to be silent. And scarcely was he outside the gate
when old Stahl, the weaver, began telling everybody that the French had
taken the Herr Rathsherr with them; they were going to make him a
general,--but the others would all be hanged.