It was late in the autumn when Eric left Lubeck on his way to Rotterdam,
where he was to go on board the good ship _Gustav Barentz_, bound on a
trading voyage to the eastern isles of the Indian Ocean; and, as the
year rolled on, bringing winter in its train--a season which the Dort
family had hitherto always hailed with pleasure on account of its
festive associations--the hours lagged with the now sadly diminished
little household in the Gulden Strasse; for, the merry Christmas-tide
reminded them more than ever of the absent sailor boy, who had always
been the very life and soul of the home circle, and the eagerly sought-
for guest at every neighbourly gathering.
"It does not seem at all the same now the dear lad is away on the seas,"
said old Lorischen, the whilom nurse, and now part servant, part
companion of Madame Dort. "Indeed, I cannot fancy him far-distant at
all. I feel as if he were only just gone out skating on the canal, and
that we might expect him in again at any moment!"
"Ah, I miss him every minute of the day," replied Madame Dort, who was
sitting on one side of the white porcelain stove that occupied a cosy
corner of the sitting-room, facing the old nurse, who was busily engaged
knitting a pair of lambs-wool stockings on the other.
"It is now--aye, just two months since the dear lad left us," continued
Lorischen, "and we've never had a line from him yet. I hope no evil has
befallen the ship!"
"Oh, don't say such a thing as that," said Madame Dort nervously. "The
vessel has a long voyage to make, and would only touch at the Cape of
Good Hope on her way; so we cannot expect to hear yet. I wonder at you,
Lorischen, alarming me with your misgivings! I am sure I am anxious
enough already about poor Eric."
"Ach himmel! I meant no harm, dear lady," rejoined the other; "but,
when one has thoughts, you know, they must find vent, and I've been
dreaming of him the last three nights. I do wish he were safe back
again. The house is not itself without him."
"You are not the only one that thinks that," said Madame Dort. "Why,
even the very birds that come to be fed at the gallery window miss him!
They won't take their bread crumbs from my hand as they used to do last
winter from his; you remember how tame they were, and how they would hop
on his shoulder when he opened the window and called them?"
"Aye, that do I, well! He was a kind lad to bird and beast alike.
There is my old cat, which another boy would have tormented according to
the nature of all boys where poor cats are concerned; but Eric loved it,
and petted it like myself! Many a time I see Mouser looking up at that
model of his ship there, blinking his eyes as if he knew well where the
young master is, for cats have deeper penetration than human folk give
them credit for. I heard him miaow-wowing this morning; and, when I
went to look for him, there he was on the top of the stove, if you
please, gazing up at the little ship, with his tail up in the air as
stiff as a hair-brush! I couldn't make it out at all, and that's what
made me so thoughtful to-day about the dear lad, especially as I'd
dreamt of him, too."
"My dear Lorischen, you absurd creature," laughed out Madame Dort. "I'm
glad you said that. Don't you know what was old Mouser's grievance?
Was I not close behind you at the time the cat was making the noise, and
did not Burgher Jans' dog rush out of the room as the door was opened?
Of course, Mouser got on the stove to be out of his way, and that was
why you thought he was speaking in cat language to poor Eric's little
model ship. What a superstitious old lady you are, to be sure!"
"Ah well, you may think so, and explain it away, madame," said
Lorischen, in no way convinced; "but I have my beliefs all the same; and
I think that cat knows more than you and I do. Dear, dear! There, I
declare it is snowing again. What a Christmas we will have, and how the
dear lad would have enjoyed it, eh?"
"Yes, that he would," rejoined the other. "He did love to watch the
snowflakes come down, and talk of longing to see an Arctic winter; but I
hope it will not fall so heavily as to block the railway, and prevent us
from getting any letters."
"I hope not," replied Lorischen sympathisingly. "That would be a bad
look-out, especially at Christmas time! Look, the roof of the Marien
Kirche is covered already: what must it not be in the open country!"
The old town presented a very different aspect now to what it had done
when Madame Dort had walked by Eric's side to the railway station, for
the red tiles of the houses were hidden from view by the white covering
which now covered the face of nature everywhere--the frozen canal ways
and river, with the ice-bound ships along the quays and the tall poplar
trees and willows on the banks, as well as the streets and market-place,
being thickly powdered, like a gigantic wedding-cake, with snow-dust;
while icicles hung pendent, as jewels, from the masts of the vessels and
the boughs of the trees alike, and from the open-work galleries of the
market hall and groined carvings of the archways and outside staircases
that led to the upper storeys of the ancient buildings around. These
latter glittered in every occasional ray of sunshine that escaped every
now and then from the overhanging clouds, flashing out strange radiant
shades of colouring to light up the monotonous tone of the landscape.
Madame Dort rose from her chair and went to the window where she
remained for some little time watching the fast descending flakes that
came down in never-ceasing succession.
"I'm afraid it is going to be a very heavy fall," said she presently,
after gazing at the scene around in the street below. Then, lifting her
eyes, she noticed that the heavy mass of snow-clouds on the horizon had
now crept up to the zenith, totally obscuring the sun, and that the wind
had shifted to the north-east--a bad quarter from whence to expect a
change at that time of year.
"But, dear me, there is Fritz! I wonder what brings him home so early
to-day?" she exclaimed again after another pause. "See," she added,
"the dear child! He has got something white in his hand, and is waving
it as he comes up the stairway. It's a letter, I'm sure; and it must be
from Eric!"
Old Lorischen bounced out of her chair at this announcement and was at
the door of the room almost as soon as her mistress; but, before either
could touch the handle, it was opened from without, and Fritz came into
the apartment.
"Hurrah, mother!" he shouted out in joyful tones. "Here's news from
Eric at last! A letter in his own dear handwriting. I have not opened
it yet; but it must have been put on board some passing vessel homewards
bound, as it is marked `ship's letter,' and I've had to pay two
silbergroschen for it. Open it and read, mother dear; I'm so anxious to
hear what our boy says."
With trembling hands Madame Dort tore the envelope apart, and soon made
herself mistress of the contents of the letter. It was only a short
scrawl which the sailor lad had written off hurriedly to take advantage
of the opportunity of sending a message home by a passing ship, as his
brother had surmised--Eric not expecting to have been able to forward
any communication until the vessel reached the Cape; and, the stranger
only lying-to for a brief space of time to receive the despatches of the
_Gustav Barentz_, he could merely send a few hasty lines, telling them
that he was well and happy, although he missed them all very much, and
sending his "dearest love" to his "own little mother" and "dear brother
Fritz," not forgetting "darling, cross old Lorischen," and the "cream-
stealing Mouser."
"Just hear that, the little fond rascal!" exclaimed the worthy old
nurse, when Madame Dort read out this postscript. "To think of his
calling me cross, and accusing Mouser of stealing; it is just like his
impudence, the rogue! I only wish he were here now, and I would soon
tell him a piece of my mind."
Eric added that they had had a rough passage down the North Sea, his
vessel having to put into Plymouth, in the English Channel, for repairs;
and that, as she was a bad sailer, they expected to be much longer on
the voyage than had been anticipated. He said, too, that if the wind
was fair, the captain did not intend to stop at the Cape, unless
compelled to call in for provisions and water, but to push on to Batavia
so as not to be late for the season's produce. He had overheard him
telling the mate this, and now informed those at home of the fact that
they might not be disappointed at not receiving another letter from him
before he reached the East Indies, which would be a most unlikely case,
unless they had the lucky chance of communicating a second time with a
homeward-bound ship--a very improbable contingency, vessels not liking
to stop on their journey and lay-to, except in answer to a signal of
distress or through seeing brother mariners in peril.
"So, you see," said Madame Dort, as soon as she had reached the end of
the sheet, "we must not hope to hear from the dear boy again for some
time, and can only trust that all will go well with him on the voyage!"
She heaved a heavy sigh from the bottom of her mother's heart as she
spoke, and her face looked sad again, like it had been before Eric's
letter came.
"Yes, that's right enough, mutterchen," answered Fritz hopefully; "but,
you can likewise see that Providence has watched over our Eric so far,
in preserving him safely, and there is now no reason for our feeling any
alarm on his account. We shall hear from him in the spring, without
doubt, telling us of his safe arrival at Java, and saying what time we
may look forward to expecting him home. At any rate, this dear letter
comes welcome enough now, and it will enable us to have a happier
Christmas-tide than we should otherwise have passed."
"Ach, that it does," put in old Lorischen, beginning again to bustle
about the room with all her former zest in making preparations for the
coming festival, which her melancholy forebodings about Eric and
superstitious, fears anent the cat's colloquy in the morning had
somewhat interrupted: "we shall have a right merry Christmas in spite of
the dear lad's absence. We must remember that he will be with us in
spirit, at least, and it would grieve him if we were down-hearted!"
This wise reflection of the old nurse, coupled with Fritz's hopeful
words, appeared to have a cheering influence on Madame Dort, whom many
trials had made rather more despondent than could have been expected
from her bright, handsome face, which did not seem sometimes to have
ever known what sorrow was; although, like Eric's, it exhibited for the
moment every passing mood, so that those familiar with her disposition
could almost read her very thoughts, her nature being so open.
Banishing her gloom away, apparently by the mere effort of will, she now
proceeded to assist Lorischen in getting the room decorated for the
Christmas Eve feast, of which all partook with more merriment and
content than the little household in the Gulden Strasse had known since
the sailor boy left. Nay, it seemed to them, happy with the tidings of
his safety and well-being, that Eric was there too in their midst; for
they drank his health before separating for the night, and his mother,
when placing the surprise presents, which were to tell the members of
the family in the morning that they had not been overlooked in the
customary distribution of those little gifts that form the most pleasing
remembrances of the festive season in Germany, did not omit also to fill
the stocking which Eric had suspended from the head of his bedstead
before leaving--he having laughingly said that he expected to find it
chock-full when he returned home in time for the next Christmas feast,
as he was certain that Santa Claus would never be so unkind as to forget
him because he chanced to be away and so missed his turn in the usual
visit of the benevolent patron of the little ones!
Time passed on at Lubeck, the same as it does everywhere else. The year
turned and the months flew by. Winter gave place to spring, when the
adamantine chains with which the ice-king had bound the rivers and
waters of the north were loosed asunder by the mighty power of the
exultant sun; the snow melted away from the earth, which decked itself
in green to rejoice at its freedom, smiling in satisfaction with
flowers; while the trees began to clothe their ragged limbs and branches
in dainty apparel, and the birds to sing at the approach of summer.
June came, when Madame Dort had fully expected to hear of Eric's arrival
at Batavia; but the month waned to its close without any letter coming
to gladden the mother's heart again, nor was there any news to be heard
of the good ship _Gustav Barentz_ in the commercial world--not a single
telegram having been received to report her having reached her
destination, nor was there any mention of her having been seen and
signalled by some passing vessel, save that time when she was met off
the Cape de Verde Islands in the previous November. It began to look
ominous!
But, while Madame Dort was filled with apprehension as to the fate of
her younger son, a sudden conjuncture of circumstances almost made her
forget Eric. This was, the unexpected summons of Fritz from her side,
to battle with the legions of Germany against the threatened invasion of
"the Fatherland" by France.
At the time, it looked sudden enough. A little cloud, no bigger than a
man's hand, had arisen on the horizon of European politics, which, each
moment, grew blacker and more portentous; and, in a brief while, it
burst into a war that deluged the vine-clad slopes of Rhineland and the
fair plains of Lorraine with blood and fire, making havoc everywhere.
Now, however, looking back on all the events of that terrible struggle
and duly weighing the surroundings and impelling forces leading up to
it, allowing also for all temporary excuses and pretexts, and admitting
all that can be said for partisanship on either side, there can be no
use in blinking at the pregnant fact that the real cause of the war
arose from a desire to settle whether the French or the Germans were the
strongest in sheer brute force--just in the same way as two men, or
boys, fight with nature's weapons in a pugilistic encounter to strive
for the mastery, thus indulging in passions which they share with the
beasts of the field!
The long, steady, complete preparation for war on each side shows that
this very simple and intelligible motive was at the bottom of it all;
and it is pitiable to think, for the sake of human nature, when
recapitulating the history of this fearful conflict of fifteen years ago
which caused such misery and murderous loss of life, that two of the
most polished, advanced, educated, and representative nations of Europe
at that time should not have apparently attained a higher code of
civilised morality than that adopted by the natives of Dahomey--one,
ruled over by the blood-stained fetish of human sacrifice! As the world
advances, looking at the matter in this light, we seem to have exchanged
one sort of barbarism for another, and the present one appears almost
the worse of the two, by the very reason of its being mixed up with so
much scientific advancement, cultural refinement, and the higher
development of man. It is like the old devil returning and bringing
with him seven other devils more powerful for evil than their original
prototype, this prostitution of learning, intellect, and philosophy to
the most debasing influences of human nature!
These thoughts, however, did not affect either Fritz or his mother at
the time.
Not being the only son of a widow, in which case he might have been
exempted from service, Fritz, when he had reached his eighteenth year,
had been compelled to join the ranks of the national army; and, after
completing the ordinary course of drill, had been relegated to the
Landwehr and allowed to return home to his civic occupation. But, when
the order was promulgated throughout the German empire to mobilise the
vast human man-slaying machine which General Moltke and Prince Bismark
had constructed with such painstaking care that units could be
multiplied into tens, and tens into hundreds, and hundred into
thousands--swelling into a gigantic host of armed men almost at a
moment's notice, ready either to guard the frontier from invasion, or to
hurl its resistless battalions on the hated foe whose defeat had been
such a long-cherished dream--the young clerk received peremptory orders
to join the headquarters of the regiment to which he was attached. The
very place and hour at which he was to report himself to his commanding
officer were named in the general order forwarded along with his railway
pass, so comprehensive were the details of the Prussian military
organisation. This latter so thoroughly embraced the entire country
after the absorption of the lesser states on the collapse of Koniggratz,
that each separate individual could be moved at any given moment to a
certain defined point; while the instructions for his guidance were so
complete and perfect, that they could not fail to be understood.
Fritz had to proceed, in the first instance, to the capital city of his
state, Hanover, now no longer a kingdom, but only a small division of
the great empire into which it was incorporated. For him there was no
chance of evasion or getting out of the obligation to serve, for the
whilom "kingdom" having withstood to the last during the six weeks' war
the onward progress to victory of the all-devouring Prussians, her
citizens would be at once suspected of disloyalty on the least sign of
any defection. Besides, a keen official eye was kept on the movements
of all Hanoverians, their patriotism to the newly formed empire being
diligently nourished by a military rule as stern and strict as that of
Draco.
"Oh, my boy, my firstborn! and must I lose thee too?" exclaimed Madame
Dort, when Fritz made her acquainted with the news of his summons to
headquarters. "Truly Providence sees fit to afflict me for my sins, to
try me with this fresh calamity!"
"Pray do not take such a sombre view of my departure, dear mother," said
Fritz. "Why, probably, in a month's time I will be back again in old
Lubeck; for, I'm sure, we'll double up the French in a twinkling."
"Ah, my child, you do not know what a campaign is, yet! The matter will
not be settled so easily as you think. War is a terrible thing, and the
Prussians may not be able to crush the whole power of the French nation
in the same way in which they conquered Austria and Saxony, and subdued
our own little state four years ago."
"But, mother recollect, that now we shall be fighting all together for
the Fatherland," said Fritz, who like most young Germans was well read
in his country's history, and to him the remembrance of the old war
time, when Buonaparte trampled over central Europe, was as fresh as if
it were only yesterday. "We've long been waiting for this day, and it
has come at last! Besides, dear mutterchen, you forget that the
Landwehr, to which I belong, will only act as a reserve, and will not
probably take any part in the fighting--worse luck!" He added the
latter words under his breath, for it was not so long since he had
abandoned his barrack-room life for him to have lost the soldierly
instincts there implanted into him; and, truth to say, he longed for the
strife, the summons to arms making him "sniff the battle from afar like
a young war-horse!" The French declaration of war and the proclamation
of the German emperor had roused the people throughout the country into
a state of patriotic frenzy; so that, from the North Sea to the Danube,
from the Rhine to the Niemen, the summons to meet the ancient foe was
responded to with an alacrity and devotion which none who witnessed the
stirring scenes of that period can ever forget.
Fritz was no less eager than his comrades; and, considerably within the
interval allowed him for preparation, he and the others of his corps
living in the same vicinity were on their way to Hanover.
This second parting with another of her children almost wrung poor
Madame Dort's heart in twain; but, like the majority of German mothers
at the time, she sent off her son, with a blessing, "to fight for his
country, his Fatherland"; for, noble and peasant alike, every wife and
mother throughout the length and breadth of the land seemed to be
infected with the patriotism of a Roman matron. Madame Dort would be
second to none.
"Good-bye, my son," she said, "be brave, although I need hardly tell
your father's son that, and do your duty to God and your country!"
"I will, mother; I will," said Fritz, giving her a last kiss, as the
train rolled away with him out of the station to the martial strains of
"Der Deutsche Vaterland," which a band was playing on the platform in
honour of the young recruits going to the war.
The widow had to-day no son left to support her steps homeward to the
desolate house in the Gulden Strasse, now bereaved of her twin hopes,
Fritz and Eric both; only old Lorischen was by her side, and she felt
sadly alone.
"Both gone, both gone!" she murmured to herself as she ascended the
outside stairway that led to her apartments in the upper part of the
house. "It will be soon time for me to go, too!"
"Ach nein, dear mistress," said the faithful servant and friend who was
now the sole companion left to share the deserted home. "What would
become of me in that case, eh? We will wait and watch for the truants
in patience and hope. They'll come back to us again in God's good time;
and they will be all the more precious to us by their being taken from
us now. Himmel! mistress, why we've lots of things to do to get ready
for their return!"