It is a singular story, and yet intimately connected with the great
events of modern history, or, what is almost the same thing, with the
history of Napoleon. Those were memorable times. Every farmer could see
the whole array of history man[oe]uvre and pass in review beneath his
dormer-window: kings and emperors behaved like play-actors, and,
sometimes assumed a different dress and a different character in every
scene. And all this gorgeous spectacle was at the farmer's service,
costing him nothing but his house and home, and occasionally, perhaps,
his life. My neighbor Hansgeorge was not quite so unlucky,--as the
story will show.
It was in the year 1796. We who live in these piping times of peace
have no idea of the state of things which then existed: mankind seemed
to have lost their fixed habitations and to be driving each other here
and there at random. The Black Forest saw the Austrians, with their
white coats, in one month, and in the next the French, with their
laughing faces; then the Russians came, with their long beards; and
mixed and mingled with them all were the Bavarians, Wurtembergers, and
Hessians, in every possible uniform. The Black Forest was the open gate
of Germany for the French to enter; it is only ten years since that
Rastatt was placed as a bolt before it.
The marches and counter-marches, retreats and advances, cannonades and
drum-calls, were enough at times to turn the head of a bear in winter;
and many a head did indeed refuse to remain upon its shoulders. In a
field not far from Baisingen is a hillock as high as a house, which,
they say, contains nothing but dead soldiers,--French and Germans
mixed.
[Illustration: He had shot off the forefinger of his right hand.]
But my neighbor Hansgeorge escaped being a soldier, although a fine
sturdy fellow, well fit to stand before the king, and the people too,
and just entering his nineteenth year. It happened in this wise.
Wendel, the mason, married a wife from Empfingen, and on the day before
the wedding the bride was packed on a wagon with all her household
goods, her blue chest, her distaff, and her bran-new cradle. Thus she
was conveyed to the village, while the groom's friends rode on
horseback behind, cracking off their pistols from time to time to show
how glad they were. Hansgeorge was among them, and always shot more
than all the others. When the cavalcade had reached the brick-yard,
where the pond is at your right hand and the kiln at your left,
Hansgeorge fired again; but, almost before the pistol went off,
Hansgeorge was heard to shriek with pain. The pistol dropped from his
hand, and he would have fallen from his horse but for Fidele, his
friend, who caught him in his arms. He had shot off the forefinger of
his right hand, just at the middle joint. Every one came up, eager to
lend assistance; and even Kitty of the brick-kiln came up, and almost
fainted on seeing Hansgeorge's finger just hanging by the skin.
Hansgeorge clenched his teeth and looked steadily at Kitty. He was
carried into the brickmaker's house. Old Jake, the farrier, who knew
how to stop the blood, was sent for in all haste; while another ran to
town for Dr. Erath, the favorite surgeon.
When Old Jake came into the room, all were suddenly silent, and stepped
back, so as to form a sort of avenue, through which he walked toward
the wounded man, who was lying on the bench behind the table. Kitty
alone came forward, and said, "Jake, for God's sake, help Hansgeorge!"
The latter opened his eyes and turned his head toward the speaker, and
when Jake stood before him, mumbling as he touched his hand, the blood
ceased running.
This time, however, it was not Jake's witchcraft which produced the
result, but another kind of magic. Hansgeorge no sooner heard Kitty's
words than he felt all the blood rush to his heart, and of course the
hemorrhage ceased.
[Illustration: Hansgeorge called for his pipe.]
Dr. Erath came and amputated the finger. Hansgeorge bore the cruel pain
like a hero. As he lay in a fever for hours after, he seemed to see an
angel hovering over him and fanning him. He did not know that Kitty was
driving the flies away, often bringing her hand very near his face:
such neighborhood of a loving hand, even though there be no actual
touch, has marvellous effects, and may well have fashioned the dream in
his wandering brain. Then again he saw a veiled figure: he could never
recall exactly how she looked; but--so curious are our dreams--it had a
finger in its mouth, and smoked tobacco with it, as if it were a pipe:
the blue whiffs rose up from rings of fire.
Kitty observed that the closed lips of Hansgeorge moved in his sleep.
When he awoke, the first thing he called for was his pipe. He had the
finest pipe in the village; and we must regard it more closely, as it
is destined to play an important part in this history. The head was of
Ulm manufacture, marbleized so that you might fancy the strangest
figures by looking at it. The lid was of silver, shaped like a helmet,
and so bright that you could see your face in it, and that twice
over,--once upside-down and once right side up. At the lower edge also,
as well as at the stock, the head was tipped with silver. A double
silver chain served as the cord, and secured the short stem as well as
the long, crooked, many-jointed mouthpiece. Was not that a splendid
pipe?
"And who shall dare
To chide him for loving his pipe so fair,"
even as an ancient hero loved his shield?
What vexed Hansgeorge most in the loss of his finger was, that he could
not fill his pipe without difficulty. Kitty laughed, and scolded him
for his bad taste; but she filled his pipe nevertheless, took a coal
from the fire to light it, and even drew a puff or two herself. She
shook herself, and made a face, as if she was dreadfully disgusted.
Hansgeorge had never liked a pipe better than that which Kitty started
for him.
Although it was the middle of summer, Hansgeorge could not be taken
home with his wound, and was compelled to stay at the brickmaker's
house. With this the patient was very well content; for, although his
parents came to nurse him, he knew very well that times would come when
he would be alone with Kitty.
The next day was Wendel's wedding; and when the church-bell rang and
the inevitable wedding-march was played in the village, Hansgeorge
whistled an accompaniment in his bed. After church the band paraded
through the village where the prettiest girls were, or where their
sweethearts lived. The boys and girls joined the procession, which
swelled as it went on: they came to the brickmaker's house also.
Fidele, as George's particular friend, came in with his sweetheart to
take Kitty off to the dance; but she thanked them, pleaded household
duties, and remained at home. Hansgeorge rejoiced greatly at this, and
when they ware alone he said,--
"Kitty, never mind: there'll be another wedding soon, and then you and
I will dance our best."
"A wedding?" said Kitty, sadly: "who is going to be married?"
"Come here, please," said Hansgeorge, smiling. Kitty approached, and he
continued:--"I may as well confess it: I shot my finger off on purpose,
because I don't want to be a soldier."
Kitty started back, screaming, and covered her face with her apron.
"What makes you scream?" said Hansgeorge. "A'n't you glad of it? You
ought to be, for you are the cause."
"Jesus! Maria! Joseph! No, no! surely I am innocent! Oh, Hansgeorge,
what a sinful thing you have done! Why, you might have killed yourself!
You are a wild, bad man! I never could live with you; I am afraid of
you."
She would have fled; but Hansgeorge held her with his left hand. She
tried to tear herself away, turned her back, and gnawed the end of her
apron: Hansgeorge would have given the world for a look, but all his
entreaties were in vain. He let her go, and waited a while to see
whether she would turn round; but, as she did not, he said, with a
faltering voice,--
"Will you be so kind as to fetch my father? I want to go home."
"No; you know you can't go home: you might get the lockjaw: Dr. Erath
said you might," returned Kitty,--still without looking at him.
"If you won't fetch anybody, I'll go alone," said Hansgeorge.
Kitty turned and looked on him with tearful eyes, eloquent with
entreaty and tender solicitude. George took her offered hand, and gazed
long and earnestly into the face of his beloved. It was by no means a
face of regular beauty: it was round, full, and plump; the whole head
formed almost a perfect sphere; the forehead was high and strongly
protruding, the eyes lay deep in their sockets, and the little pug
nose, which had a mocking and bantering expression, and the swelling
cheeks, all proclaimed health and strength, but not delicacy or
refinement. George regarded her in her burning blushes as if she had
been the queen of beauty.
They remained silent for a long time. At last Kitty said, "Shall I fill
your pipe for you?"
"Yes," said George, and let go her hand.
This proposal of Kitty's was the best offer of reconciliation. Both
felt it as such, and never exchanged another word on the subject of
their dispute.
In the evening many boys and girls, with flushed cheeks and sparkling
eyes, came to take Kitty to the dance; but she refused to go.
Hansgeorge smiled. When he asked Kitty to go as a favor to him, she
skipped joyfully away, and soon came back in her holiday gown. Another
difficulty arose, however. With all their good nature, none of the
comers cared to give up their dance and stay with Hansgeorge; and Kitty
had just announced her intention, when, fortunately, old Jake came in.
For a good stoup of wine,--which they promised to send him from the
inn,--he agreed to sit up all night, if necessary.
Hansgeorge had got Dr. Erath to preserve his finger in alcohol, and
intended to make Kitty a present of it; but, with all her strength of
nerve, the girl dreaded it like a spectre, and could hardly be induced
to touch the phial. As soon as Hansgeorge was able to leave the house,
they went into the garden and buried the finger. Hansgeorge stood by,
lost in thought, while Kitty shovelled the earth upon it. The wrong he
had done his country by making himself unfit to serve it never occurred
to him; but he remembered that a part of the life which was given him
lay there never to rise again. It seemed as if, while full of life, he
were attending his own funeral; and the firm resolve grew in him to
atone for the waste committed of a part of himself by the more
conscientiously husbanding what yet remained. A thought of death
flitted across his mind, and he looked up with mingled sadness and
pleasure to find himself yet spared and the girl of his heart beside
him. Such reflections glimmered somewhat dimly in his soul, and he
said, "Kitty, you are quite right: I committed a great sin. I hope it
will be forgiven me." She embraced and kissed him, and he seemed to
have a foretaste of the absolution yet to come.
[Illustration: Kitty embraced and kissed him.]
One would expect to find in a man a peculiar fondness for the spot
where a part of his bodily self is buried. As our native country is
doubly dear to us because the bodies of those we love are resting
there,--as the whole earth is revealed in all its holiness when we call
to mind that it is the sepulchre of ages past, that
"all who tread
The earth are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom,"--
so must a man who has already surrendered a part of his dust to become
dust again be attracted by the sacred claims of earth, and often turn
to the resting-place of his unfettered portion.
Thoughts like these, though vaguely conceived, cannot be supposed to
have taken clear form and shape in such a mind as that of our friend
Hansgeorge. He went to the brickmaker's house every day; but it was in
obedience to the attraction, not of something dead, but of a living
being. But, joyfully as he went, he sometimes came away quite sad and
downhearted; for Kitty seemed intent upon teasing and worrying him. The
first thing she required, and never ceased requiring, was that he
should give up smoking. She never allowed him to kiss her when he had
smoked, and before she would sit near him he was always obliged to hide
his darling pipe. In the brickmaker's room he could not smoke on any
account; and, much as he liked to be there, he always took his way home
again before long. Kitty was not mistaken in often rallying him about
this.
Hansgeorge was greatly vexed at Kitty's pertinacity, and always came
back to his favorite enjoyment with redoubled zest. It appeared to him
unmanly to submit to a woman's dictation: woman ought to yield, he
thought; and then it must be confessed that it was quite out of his
power to renounce his habit. He tried it once in haying-time for two
days; but he seemed to be fasting all the time: something was missing
constantly. He soon drew forth his pipe again; and, while he held it
complacently between his teeth and struck his flint, he muttered to
himself, "Kitty and all the women in the world may go to the devil
before I'll stop smoking." Here he struck his finger with the steel,
and, shaking the smarting hand, "This is a judgment," thought he; "for
it isn't exactly true, after all."
At last autumn came on, and George was pronounced unfit for military
service. Some other farmers' boys had imitated his trick by pulling out
their front teeth, so as to make themselves unable to bite open the
cartridges; but the military commission regarded this as intentional
self-mutilation, while that of George, from its serious character, was
pronounced a misfortune. The toothless ones were taken into the carting
and hauling service, and so compelled to go to the wars, after all.
With defective teeth they had to munch the hard rations of the
soldiers' mess; and at last they were made to bite the dust,--which,
indeed, they could have done as well without any teeth at all.
In the beginning of October, the French general Moreau made good his
famous retreat across the Black Forest. A part of his army passed
through Nordstetten: it was spoken of for several days before. There
was fear and trembling in all the village, and none knew which way to
turn. A hole was dug in every cellar, and every thing valuable
concealed. The girls took off their strings of garnets with the silver
medallions, and drew their silver rings from their fingers, to bury
them. All went unadorned, as if in mourning. The cattle were driven
into a secluded ravine near Eglesthal. The boys and girls looked at
each other sadly when the approaching foe was mentioned: many a young
fellow sought the handle of his knife, which peeped out of his
side-pocket.
The Jews were more unfortunate than any others. Rob a farmer of every
thing you can carry away, and you must still leave him his field and
his plough; but all the possessions of the Jews are movables,--money
and goods: they, therefore, trembled doubly and trebly. The Jewish
Rabbi--a shrewd and adroit man--hit upon a lucky expedient. He placed a
large barrel of red wine, well inspirited with brandy, before his
house, and a table with bottles and glasses beside it, for the unbidden
guests to regale themselves. The device succeeded to perfection,--the
more so as the French were rather in a hurry.
In fact, the storm passed over, doing much less damage than was
expected. The villagers collected in large groups to view the passing
troops. The cavalry came first, then a long column of infantry.
Hansgeorge had gone to the brick-yard with his comrades Xavier and
Fidele: he wished to be near Kitty in case of emergency. The three
stood in the garden before the house, leaning upon the fence,
Hansgeorge calmly smoking his pipe. Kitty looked out of the window and
said, "George, if you'll stop smoking you may come into the house with
your friends."
"Wo are quite comfortable here, thank you," replied Hansgeorge, sending
up three or four whiffs in quick succession.
On came the cavalry. They rode in entire disorder, each apparently
occupied with himself alone; and nothing showed that they belonged
together save the common interest manifested in any deviltry undertaken
by any one of them. Several impudently kissed their hands to Kitty,--at
which Hansgeorge grasped his jack-knife and Kitty quickly closed the
sash. The infantry were followed by the forage-wagons and the pitiable
cavalcade of the wounded and dying. This was a wretched sight. One of
them stretched forth a hand which had but four fingers. This curdled
Hansgeorge's blood in his veins: it seemed to him as if he himself were
lying there. The poor sufferer had nothing but a kerchief round his
head, and seemed to shiver with cold. Hansgeorge jumped over the fence,
pulled off his fur cap, and set it on the poor man's head; then he gave
him his leathern purse with all the money in it. The poor fellow made
some signs with his mouth, as if he wished to smoke, and looked
beseechingly at Hansgeorge's pipe; but the latter shook his head. Kitty
brought some bread and some linen, and laid them on the cart. The
maimed warriors looked with pleasure on the blooming lass, and some
made her a military salute and garbled some broken German. No one asked
whether they were friends or foes: the unfortunate and helpless have a
claim on every one.
Another troop of cavalry brought up the rear. Kitty stood at the window
again, while Hansgeorge and his comrades had returned to their post at
the garden-gate. Suddenly Fidele exclaimed, "Look out: the marauders
are coming."
Two ragged fellows in half-uniform, without saddle or stirrup, came
galloping up. While yet a few yards off, they stopped and whispered
something to each other, at which one of them was heard to laugh. They
then rode up slowly, the one coming very near the fence. Quick as a
flash he tore the pipe out of Hansgeorge's mouth, and galloped off at
the top of his horse's speed. Putting the still-burning pipe into his
mouth, he puffed away merrily in derision. Hansgeorge held his chin
with both his hands: every tooth seemed to have been torn out of his
jaw. Kitty laughed heartily, crying, "Go get your pipe, Hansgeorge:
I'll let you smoke now."
"I'll get it," said Hansgeorge, breaking a board of the fence in his
fury. "Come, Fidele, Xavier; let's get our horses out and after them: I
won't let the rascals have my pipe, if I must die for it."
His two comrades went away and took the horses out of the stable. Kitty
came running over, however, and called Hansgeorge into the house. He
came reluctantly, for he was angry with her for laughing at him; but
she took his hand, trembling, and said, "For God's sake, Hansgeorge,
let the pipe alone. I'll do any thing to please you if you'll only mind
me now. How can you let them kill you for such a good-for-nothing pipe?
Do stay here, I beg of you."
"I won't stay here! I don't care if they do send a bullet through my
head! What should I stay here for? You never do any thing but tease
me."
"No, no!" cried Kitty, falling upon his neck: "you must stay here! I
won't let you go."
Hansgeorge felt a strange thrill pass through him; but he asked,
saucily, "Will you be my wife, then?"
"Yes, yes, I will, Hansgeorge! I will!"
They embraced each other with transport, and Hansgeorge exclaimed,
"I'll never put a pipe into my mouth again as long as I live: if I do,
I hope I may be----"
"No, no; don't swear, but keep your word: that's much better. But now
you will stay here, won't you, Hansgeorge? Let the pipe and the
Frenchman go to the devil together."
Xavier and Fidele now came riding up, armed with pitchforks, and cried,
"Hurry up, Hansgeorge! hurry up!"
"I am not going with you," said Hansgeorge.
"What will you give us if we bring your pipe back?" asked Fidele.
"You may keep it."
They rode off post-haste down the Empfingen road, Hansgeorge and Kitty
looking after them. At the little hill by the clay-pit they had nearly
caught up to the marauders; but when the latter found themselves
pursued they turned, brandished their swords, and one of them drew a
pistol. Fidele and Xavier, seeing this, turned round also, and returned
faster than they had come.
From that day Hansgeorge never touched a pipe. Four weeks later his and
Kitty's banns were read in the church.
[Illustration]
One day Hansgeorge went to the brickmaker's: he had come unperceived,
having taken the back way. He heard Kitty say to some one inside. "So
you are sure it is the same?"
"Of course it is," said the person addressed, whose voice he recognised
as belonging to Little Red Meyer, a Jewish peddler. "Why, they were
always seen together: for my part, I don't see how he ever made up his
mind to marry anybody else."
"Well," said Kitty, laughingly, "I only want to make him stare a little
on our wedding-day. So you won't disappoint me, will you?"
"I'll do it as sure as I want to make a hundred thousand florins."
"But Hansgeorge mustn't hear a word about it."
"Mum's the word," said Little Red Meyer, and took his leave.
Hansgeorge came in rather sheepishly, being ashamed to confess that he
had been listening. But when they sat closely side by side, he said,
"Kitty, don't let them put any nonsense into your head: it's no such
thing. They once used to say that I was courting the maid at the Eagle,
who is now in Rothweil: don't you believe a bit of it. I wasn't
confirmed then: it was nothing but child's-play."
Kitty pretended to lay great stress on this matter, and put Hansgeorge
to a world of trouble to clear himself. In the evening he did his best
to pump the whole secret out of Little Red Meyer; but all in vain: his
word was "mum."
Hansgeorge had many things to go through with yet, and, in a manner, to
run the gauntlet of the whole village. On the Sunday before the
wedding, he, as well as his "playmate" Fidele, adorned their hats and
left arms with red ribbons, and went, thus accoutred, from house to
house, the groom that was to be repeating the following speech at
every call:--"I want you to come to the wedding on Tuesday, at the
Eagle. If we can do the same for you, we will. Be sure to come. Don't
forget. Be sure to come." Thereupon the housewife invariably opened the
table-drawer and brought out a loaf of bread and a knife, saying,
"There! have some bread." Then the intended groom was expected to cut a
piece from the loaf and take it with him. The loss of his forefinger
made Hansgeorge rather awkward at this operation; and many would hurt
his feelings unintentionally by saying, "Why, Hansgeorge, you can't cut
the bread. You oughtn't to get married: you are unfit for service."
Hansgeorge rejoiced greatly when this ordeal was over.
[Illustration: The wedding was celebrated with singing and rejoicing.]
The wedding was celebrated with singing and rejoicing, although there
was no shooting, as it had been strictly forbidden since Hansgeorge's
misfortune.
The dinner was uncommonly merry. Immediately after it, Kitty slipped
out into the kitchen, and came back with the memorable pipe in her
mouth: no one, at least, could say that it was not the same. Kitty
puffed away a little with a wry face, and then handed it to Hansgeorge,
saying, "There, take it: you have kept your word like a man, and now
you may smoke as much as you please. I don't mind it a bit."
Hansgeorge blushed up to the eyes, but shook his head. "What I have
said is said, and not a mouse shall bite a crumb off: I'll never smoke
again in all my life. But, Kitty, I may kiss you after you've done
smoking, mayn't I?"
He strained her to his heart, and then confessed, laughing, that he had
overheard a part of Kitty's talk with Little Red Meyer, and had
supposed they were speaking of the maid at the Eagle. The joke was much
relished by all the company.
[Illustration: The pipe was hung up over the wedding-bed.]
The pipe was hung up in state over the wedding-bed of the young couple;
and Hansgeorge often points to it in proof of the maxim that love and
resolution will enable a man to overcome any weakness or foible.
* * * * *
Many years are covered by a few short words. Hansgeorge and Kitty are
venerable grandparents, enjoying a ripe old age in the midst of their
descendants. The pipe is an heirloom in which their five sons have a
common property: not one of them has ever learned to smoke.