CHAPTER III.

THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SETTLEMENT.

As the handsome steamer, panting, foamed up the splendid Hudson River,

the Germans were never tired of viewing the wonderfully beautiful, yet

grand landscape, which, in all its glitter, in all its splendour, lay

spread out before them.

The sun, meanwhile, cast his farewell rosy kiss upon the silver-clear

stream, and the picturesque masses of rock which formed its banks,

towering towards heaven, and covered with a dark-green leafy canopy,

glowed in his friendly light with such magical beauty as touched the

hearts even of the rough Oldenburghers, who, absorbed in one continued

gaze, quite forgot to provide for the comfort of their bodies during the

long night which was drawing nigh.

Pastor Hehrmann, lost in deep reflection, stood on the broad fore-part

of the boat; but his eye was not luxuriating in the view of the wonders

of nature which surrounded him, for it gazed dreamily at the red and

gold clouds which passed slowly across the deep-blue sky. He had left

wife and children in the cabin, and thought himself alone in his silent

meditations, when he felt the gentle pressure of a hand upon his

shoulder, and at the same moment his elder daughter leaned her head,

with its curled locks, upon his shoulder.

"Is it not beautiful here, father?" said the dear girl, looking

affectionately into his eyes; "is it not splendid on this wonderful

stream? Oh! to live here, to be able to call one of those charming

little country houses one's own, how delightful it would be! The people

must be very good who live here."

"And why, Bertha?" asked her father; "do you think that the beauty of

nature alone exercises such an influence upon the human heart? Yes, you

are right--it _should_ do so; but, alas, it is just in the most

beautiful regions, in countries like paradise, that we too often meet

with the worst of men; that the wildest passions rage; and it almost

seems as if where God has poured out the greatest splendour and

gorgeousness upon the earth, there the human heart has remained the only

spot in which hatred and discord, wickedness and discontent, could find

a harbour."

"But I will not wrong the good people of this district," he continued,

smiling, when he saw that his daughter looked at him rather anxiously.

"I speak of the tropical countries; the population of the Hudson is

good; it is descended from the honest old Dutchmen who founded the first

settlements here, and although the present generation----"

"Why so serious, my friends?" said Dr. Normann, who advanced towards

them at this moment, and interrupted their conversation. "You admire the

steep rocky shore--yes, a splendid part of the country, but inconvenient

for travelling; one is often compelled to make circuits of some miles to

get at the river from the land side, and that is, to say the least,

inconvenient; but we are in a dangerous vicinity here, for yonder is the

Haunted Island--yes, yes, the Haunted Island. Oh, you need not wonder

so, it is here as on the Rhine; and if we have not the old castles, or

rather ruins, why every rocky promontory, every singularly-formed cliff,

every old house, has its story and its ghost."

"Oh, pray tell us why it is called the Haunted Island?"

"Well, then," the doctor smiled, "it's certainly a harmless story, but

has cost the inhabitants of this neighbourhood many a shake of the head,

particularly in earlier times. But the Yankees of the present day are a

spoiled, unpoetical, and anything but romantic race; they believe in

nothing which they cannot grasp with their fists, and take not the least

interest in anything, were it even the spirit of their own ancestor,

unless they expect to derive from it some material benefit or other; and

certainly such is not the case with the 'Haunted Visit.'"

"The Haunted Visit," said Bertha, her curiosity now extremely excited.

"Yes," replied Normann, "and here comes your mother and sister, who,

perhaps, would also like to hear of our spiritual neighbourhood." The

last-named persons joined them with a friendly recognition, and the

Doctor thus began his tale:--

"Long ago, when the Dutch were still in quiet possession of this

country, which since _that_ time has changed its masters more than once,

there lived in a little town, on the east bank of the river, a man named

Van Tromp, who, as he had no occupation in particular, served happy

indolence in real Turkish fashion, loafing up and down the streets as

his only business, and, like some hawk in search of an unfortunate

partridge, spying through the still streets after some yet more

unfortunate acquaintance. No sooner did he see a victim, than in a few

bounds he overtook him, and unless the fated one chose to sacrifice a

button, he was obliged to endure and listen to the story which Van Tromp

had in store for him, and which most likely he had already heard from

his own mouth many times before.

"Once upon a time, when, in this manner, he had stepped on board of a

little trading cutter (which in those days, before there were any

steamers, navigated the Hudson), and had there entangled the cook in a

highly interesting conversation--on which occasion he related to him,

for the seventeenth time, how cunningly he had managed to escape being

married--he missed the departure of the little boat, and as he could not

spring ashore again, he resigned himself to his fate, viz., to remain

on board until, in the course of a given number of days, the vessel

should return.

"But here a particular and peculiar misfortune befel him; under

way--namely, when wearied out with story-telling--he had stretched

himself out upon deck, and had fallen asleep; the vessel tacked, the

large sprit-sail swept over the deck, and Van Tromp, whom nobody thought

about, was shoved overboard by the heavy boom. Some affirm that the

whole vessel capsized; but probably that is a fable. Be that as it may,

Van Tromp sank like a stone, and suddenly found himself--and you may

conceive his surprise--at the bottom of the Hudson, among the spirits of

those who, during past centuries, had perished there.

"He might have been very well off here, for, according to the most

authentic intelligence, they lead a very jolly life in the blue depths

down below there; but his eternal propensity to tell stories, which did

not forsake him in his new abode, soon drove away all good company from

him. In the beginning--yes, whilst his anecdotes were yet new--they put

up with it; but when the same, and still the same, were constantly

repeated, and the poor drowned folks had no hope of getting rid of their

tedious story-teller till the day of judgment, it was then that they

resolved, in a council especially called for the purpose, to evade their

otherwise immutable laws, for Van Tromp's benefit as well as their own,

and to permit the former to visit the earth again; only, however, in the

form of a living man, in order not to excite any unnecessary

consternation among the peaceful dwellers on the Hudson.

"Van Tromp was now happy, and soon made excursions through the streets

of his native place again, although in a new form. But of what use was

this change? Of what use were the different voice and varying

clothes--_the stories remained the same_--word for word did they come

back again, as though read from some ancient chronicle; and in a few

days he began to be avoided. The rumour that the drowned man had come

back, and in a different shape, and was wandering among them, spread

like wildfire through the little town, and scarce had he time to

commence one of his old anecdotes, before the auditors, with complete

indifference to their buttons, and even to whole pieces of lining,

sprang back in terror and fled from their spectral neighbour.

"The natural consequence was, that Van Tromp became misanthropical,

sought out lonesome places, talked to himself, and at last withdrew to

this island, which we have just now passed, in order no longer to waste

his stories upon a generation that was unworthy of them. There you have

the simple story of the 'Haunted Visit,' and every farmer upon these

banks here can relate his particular stories drawn from Van Tromp's

life."

Several other Germans, also passengers on board the steamer, now joined

them, and anecdotes and legends followed each other until darkness and

the damp air from the river compelled all to seek the interior of the

vessel.

The remainder of the society had meanwhile passed their time in a

similar manner, only that the four friends--Schmidt, the shoemaker, the

tailor, and the brewer--for whom the landscape had fewer attractions,

spread out a due quantity of provisions between them, and were busied in

doing ample justice to them. But when it suddenly became dark (which, to

their surprise, it did with wonderful rapidity, for in New York they had

not noticed the speedy approach of night), they found themselves in the

highly disagreeable position of people who are very tired, and have no

place where they can properly rest themselves.

"It is very wrong," the shoemaker said, "not to give one so much as a

bottle of straw. Surely one can't walk about all night."

"I should like to lie down on the bare boards," said the brewer, looking

about him, "but these disgusting people do nothing but spit, and in

every direction too, so that one can hardly find a clean place the size

of one's foot. What fellows they are! Why, sandmen among us behave

themselves better."

"When shall we get to Albany, do you think?" asked Schmidt of one of the

engineers, who was pouring some oil on the engine out of a small can.

"Nix versteh!" said the American, shaking his head; "no Dutchman!"

"Well, then, you need not call names, if you don't," exclaimed the

brewer, testily, in a loud voice, so that the man who was addressed

turned round surprised.

"Don't be a fool!" said the tailor, taking hold of the angry man's arm;

"do you think you will sleep any the better for getting your hide full

of blows?"

"But it's true, what business had the fellow to talk about 'Doetsch?'"

"Where can the Committee be?" Schmidt now asked; "and I've seen nothing

of the Oldenburghers either, since we've been aboard."

"Who knows where they've poked themselves to?" grunted the shoemaker,

wrapping himself up more closely in an old mantle with a hundred or so

of capes. "I shall seat myself in a corner and wait till daylight; I'm

tired of standing about." The others followed his example; and soon, in

the wide, and sparingly and weakly lighted lower deck of the great boat,

groups of sleepy passengers sat or lay about in all directions, some

with their heads resting upon their luggage, some alongside of a chest,

and passed the night by no means conveniently, for in addition to their

other discomforts, the cool river air blew in from all sides of the open

boat, feeling anything but beneficial, and awakening lively longings in

the hearts of the travellers for a warm bed.

Day broke at last, and with it the call, "Ashore, ashore!" came to

disturb them from the first slumber, into which, tired with long

watching, and yielding to over-weariness, they had just sunk. The boat

was going alongside the Quay at Albany, and the freight was soon after

got ashore, as the Captain had to return to New York the same morning.

Dr. Normann meanwhile undertook to conduct the ladies to an inn not far

off, whilst the settlers (for this was the name which the society had

now assumed) had enough to do to receive the freight, and get it up to

the somewhat distant railway. The journey was to be continued hence, by

the doctor's advice, by rail as far as Utica, and here the conviction

forced itself upon the settlers that they carried too much luggage with

them, for the carriage by railway was not inconsiderable, and the

constant packing away, and moving backwards and forwards highly

inconvenient and expensive. But the discovery was of no use: the

constant consolation was, "we have brought it so far, and certainly

can't leave it now that we are near the end of our journey."

But the end of their journey was not reached so soon as they expected,

and they had yet many inconveniences to meet before they could hope to

arrive at the spot which was to be the scene of their future labours and

of their domestic repose.

They reached Utica that night. Here the unpacking of all their wares and

utensils took place again, and all had to be got to the canal, where two

boats were lying ready to start immediately for Buffalo.

The unlading and removal in the night formed a very troublesome

business, and the settlers would have grumbled a good deal had not

Pastor Hehrmann, the younger Siebert, and Mr. Herbold, shown themselves

particularly active and attentive on the occasion; but as they lent a

hand everywhere, all was soon got through, and in less than an hour the

horn of the master of the boat blew for departure.

The brewer and the tailor had escaped work this time, and associated

themselves with the remaining members of the Committee; for scarcely had

they descended from the railway carriages before a very elegant

hackney-coach drew up, and a young man opened the door for them. Now,

although M. Von Schwanthal, Siebert senior, Mr. Becher, and Dr. Normann

with Pastor Hehrmann's family, had got into two other coaches, yet the

two who remained behind did not care to waste their money so

thoughtlessly, and the tailor politely declined, saying--

"Much obliged, but riding don't agree with us."

"It costs nothing," replied the young man, who had opened the door for

them, civilly, and in good German; "it belongs to the railroad."

"Nothing at all?" asked the brewer, distrustfully.

"Not a cent!" the other assured him. The word was a lever that raised

the little tailor like a spring into a corner of the vehicle, where,

when the brewer had somewhat more slowly followed him, he comfortably

rubbed his hands, and, laughing, exclaimed--

"Now it agrees with me, and if it went as far as Buffalo!"

It did not go to Buffalo, however, but scarcely a hundred yards off, to

a brilliantly lighted up hotel, where both of them, not a little taken

aback, were ushered into a large dining-room. There was certainly no

time to be lost here, and the tailor, following the example of the

brewer, seated himself at one corner of the long table, at which their

fellow travellers from the cabin had also just taken their places. In a

moment a cup of tea was handed to them, and in like manner successively

several plates with various meats and confectionary. Both, however, ate

very moderately, declined a second cup of tea, and rose again from

table, where they had not felt much at their ease all the time, although

a mass of provisions, heaped upon a multitude of small plates, covered

the board, and three very pretty young women were constantly pressing

them to take first one and then another dish.

"What have we to pay?" asked the brewer, at last, of one of the young

women, as he could see no waiter. The pretty girl, however, only laughed

and shook her head. She understood no German.

"What have we to pay?" the tailor (who appeared to think that the girl

must be hard of hearing) now cried, so that she started back and looked

in amazement at the little thin figure. But another of the girls

standing near, called out a few words in English to the first, who now

smilingly advanced, and said, "Fifty cents."

"Fifty cents," repeated the other, translating it into German--"fifty

cents each person."

"Fifty cents apiece?" asked the brewer, alarmed; and, turning to the

tailor, "I say, why that's a gulden!"

"Sixteen gute groschen for _one_ cup of tea!" grumbled the little man in

a low tone to himself, but pulled out his meagre purse and paid it: so

did the brewer, and both quickly left the brilliantly lighted house, for

Meier (that was the tailor's name) anxiously remarked that they should

have to pay for the lights if they stayed much longer.

They stood still as soon as they got out of the door, and looked at each

other, half in surprise half in grief.

"Sixteen gute groschen for one cup of tea!" repeated the tailor, with

pathos: "half a Spanish dollar of good hard money!"

"And I'm as hungry as a lion," said the brewer; "I ate nothing on

purpose, because I thought we should otherwise have too much to pay."

"That's just my case," complained Meier. "Sixteen gute groschen and

nothing to eat! But, I say, we must not tell about this!"

"No, if you could only hold your jaw!"

"Not a syllable," the little man declared.

At that moment, the horn of the canal boat was heard, and several men

with lanterns came towards the tavern to fetch such of the passengers as

were missing, and who accordingly immediately proceeded on board. It was

not, however, till the following morning that they were able to make

themselves a little acquainted with surrounding objects on board the

conveyance itself.

The canal, bordered by two good walls, might perhaps be from twenty-five

to thirty feet wide, and boats meeting each other could only pass at

certain places. Along the sides were good broad roads, and three horses

were harnessed to the long tow-rope of each boat, but they did not hurry

themselves much, for the whip of the rider was seldom able to get them

beyond a walk. The canal boat itself was clinker built, and about

seventy or eighty feet long and fourteen broad; but the after and fore

parts, divided into cabins, were alone used for the passengers, while

the centre was solely arranged for and devoted to freight. In the first

boat were the Oldenburghers, our four friends, (Schmidt, the brewer, the

shoemaker, and the tailor,) several Saxon peasants with their families,

the cabinet-maker, and the glazier. In the second, on the other hand,

were the Committee, with the remainder of the travellers, so that the

whole number of passengers were pretty equally divided.

As to the passage-money, the Committee had only undertaken to defray the

freight of the cargo; it was left to the travellers to pay their own

fares, and to provide themselves with provisions for their journey,

which of course made it optional with them either to be boarded in the

boat or to supply themselves.

The first boat chose the latter mode unconditionally, which resolution

was influenced not a little by the tailor's relation of the imposition

of the preceding evening, for Meier could not find it in his heart to

keep the secret of their dreadful expense. They consequently bargained

for all such articles as appeared to them necessary for a journey of

several days, at the grocery stores (or shops), of which there were

plenty everywhere near the canal, and which chiefly contained such

things as served for the convenience of travellers; and they fared, if

not so well or so conveniently as the Committee, who preferred having

their board provided for them, yet much more cheaply, and that was the

principal thing in their then circumstances.

They felt most uncomfortable at night, when, for the sake of room, they

were put into hammocks, which were suspended in rows of three, one

above another, from the side. In the second night the ropes at the head

of the shoemaker, who just then was dreaming uneasily about robbers and

wild beasts, gave way, and his head tumbling down, while his legs

remained in the air, he awoke, with such a cry, that all jumped out and

came about him. It was some time before they could pacify him, and at

first he stared at the tailor, who was shaking him, with such wild

rolling eyes, that the latter let him go, and sprang a step backwards.

The travelling in the canal-boat was very slow; the roads (as it rained

during a couple of hours each night) were bad, and almost bottomless,

and in many places the horses could scarcely wade through the mud; but

for this one must be prepared in all travelling by canal. It is slow

work, and the only chance of enjoyment which a traveller on such a

_ride_ has, is to walk afoot alongside when he can. In places where the

road was tolerably elevated and dry, the passengers often got out and

wandered for miles beside the long ark-like box.

In the meanwhile, earnest debates had arisen in the second boat, and

that as to the name of the future town which they were about to found.

Siebert, senior, was unhesitatingly for "Teutonia," while the junior

considered "Hermannstadt" more suitable; Becher was for calling it

"Roma," and Von Schwanthal was of opinion that it must be called the

"Hoffnung," (Hope), as they had began their journey in the "Hoffnung."

Parson Hehrmann supported the latter, and Herbold alone expressed

himself very decidedly against all such German-sounding names, and

required that it should be called "Concordia." As he had Dr. Normann and

the ladies on his side, he carried off the victory at this extraordinary

meeting by an overwhelming majority, and the town was provisionally

christened "Concordia," with a reservation, of course, to take the

opinions of all the settlers on the subject. Some hours might have

elapsed when the boats stopped at a small town, both to change horses

and to unload a great portion of the cargo--at least, of the foremost

boat. Here the whole of the passengers came together once more, and the

debate about the name began again.

"Concordia!" exclaimed the shoemaker. "No, much obliged--that name wont

suit; we are regular Germans, and I don't see why we should have such a

foreign word as that. The pastor's name pleases me better, 'Hoffnung.'"

"Shoemaker's-hope!" laughed the little tailor, giving him a poke in the

ribs; "that would sound well."

"Or Tailor's-cabbage!" grumbled the other, in return.

"But," expostulated Mr. Becher, "'Concordia' means Union, and union, you

know, is to reign among us."

"Well, then, why not call it 'Union' at once?" asked the shoemaker, in

surprise. "Why have such a far-fetched expression, which half of us

don't understand?"

"Can't you understand Concordia?" smiled the cabinet-maker.

"No, nor you neither, however you may make believe!"

"The shoemaker is right," Meier opined; "we'll christen it

'Union,'--that sounds better."

"Or 'Harmony!'" suggested the cabinet-maker.

"Why not 'Harmonika' at once. Would you call the town after a

public-house!" exclaimed the brewer. "Well, what next, I wonder?"

"My good people," said the Pastor Hehrmann, interrupting them, "no

object is gained by this dispute. Besides, I don't see at all why we

should puzzle our brains at present about a name, seeing that the town

which is to receive it does not exist yet; the child has to be born

before it can be christened."

"But why not discuss an affair which hereafter will be by no means

unimportant, and for which we have ample leisure just now?" said

Siebert, senior. "For my part, I should wish for a ballot; everybody can

write a name which he has thought of for the future town, upon a slip of

paper, and let the majority decide."

"Yes, that's it--we'll do that!" all exclaimed. Slips were soon

distributed--every one quickly committed his favourite name to paper by

circulating pencils, and threw the slips into the hat of Mr. Becher, who

went round to collect them.

A sheet of paper was then taken, and Mr. Von Schwanthal volunteered to

act as secretary, and to write down the names as they were read over,

and from these to determine which had the majority.

But what names came to light then!--Oldenburgh, Merseburgh, Osterholz,

Sittensen, Helgoland, Saxony, Germany, Hildburghausen, Dresden, Bremen,

Happy Hope, Goldland, Germania; and, nearly towards the last--amidst

universal laughter--"Anna Maria." "Concordia" had only four votes; but

Pastor Hehrmann and Von Schwanthal's "Hoffnung" was successful: a great

number of the others had adopted this, and "Hoffnung" was read over

eleven times; consequently, as having a majority of voices, it was

pronounced to be the name of the town which was to be built.

"Aboard!--aboard!" the voice of the boatman now exclaimed. "All aboard!

we have stayed here long enough!"

The command was speedily attended to, and both boats were, before long,

under way again. The weather, which hitherto had been dull and foggy,

now cleared up completely, and a fresh east wind rustled through the

shadowy tree-tops, and rendered the journey a highly agreeable pleasure

excursion. The passengers might have passed their time very well and

pleasantly upon deck, had not the bridges, which followed each other at

short intervals, proved a great hindrance, for every moment the call,

"Look out!" disturbed them, and immediately afterwards, the boat glided

so closely under the beams that they were compelled to lie flat down

upon their faces, to avoid being pushed off.

"We are coming presently to a couple of very low bridges," said the man

at the helm to the passengers of the foremost boat, who were bivouacked

about the deck in picturesque attitudes, and were beguiling their time

partly by stories, and partly by card-playing. "They are much lower

than those we have passed," he continued, when he saw that his first

warning was unheeded; "and besides, we have taken a great deal of the

cargo out of this boat, which will therefore graze much nearer to the

timbers than the hindmost boat. You had better go below."

For awhile, all remained lying still; at last, however, the tailor rose,

and said, "No; I can't swim, and I don't want to be shoved overboard!

Come along!"

Most of them followed him. The glazier alone lay where he was, saying,

with a yawn, "I need not stand up--it's much pleasanter here than below,

in that box!"

The rest slowly retired to the interior of the boat. The shoemaker and

brewer alone stood beside the helmsman, and looked back at the second

boat, which followed at the distance of a hundred yards.

"I say!" remarked the brewer, laughing, "wont it sound comical, when our

town is built, and people say--'It's so many miles to the Hoffnung

(Hope),' or, 'I live near to the Hope'? or, 'I live in the Hope, No. 7,

on the third floor;' people will think it is a public house! What name

did you vote for?" The brewer would, doubtless, have replied, if both he

and the shoemaker had not forgotten the question; for in the same moment

they saw that the helmsman stooped down, heard the loud laugh of the

glazier, and just as they were turning round, were seized by the low

bridge, and unmercifully shoved overboard, head foremost. But the canal

was not deep, and they soon re-appeared, spluttering and blowing, and

had the satisfaction, besides, of being well laughed at from the second

boat, in which all pressed to the windows and to the entrance. When they

got on board again, of course they were obliged to change their clothes;

but they avoided coming too near the helmsman, as the tailor would have

it that he had done it on purpose.

The glazier had enjoyed the joke royally, but would not leave the deck,

although the American at the helm assured him that the next bridge was

lower still. Stretching himself comfortably, he declared that that was

the best place in the whole boat--and remained.

All the passengers, with the exception of this one, were employed in

various ways in the interior of the boat, when suddenly the voice of the

helmsman was heard. "Take care!" he cried; but with so loud, so anxious

a voice, the warning seemed so earnest and urgent, that all, as if

seized by something which they could not explain, remained motionless,

in the attitudes they were in, and a deathlike silence ensued. But this

was broken by such a fearful yell, that it made the blood even of the

bravest run cold. Immediately afterwards the former stillness prevailed,

and the settlers heard the steersman call to the drivers to stop the

horses, while he jumped upon deck. All now rushed up, to see what could

have happened, to drive even the quiet Pennsylvanian from his post. But

what a horrible spectacle presented itself to their view! Pressed

together, with his head shattered and his clothes torn, the glazier lay

there--a corpse, and the American turned away with a shudder, when, on

attempting to raise his head with his hand, he saw the brain, which

pressed out of the wound. The dreadful event was explained in few

words--the man had remained on deck in spite of all warnings, the bridge

had struck him, and unfortunately his head was raised upon his arms,

which hastened the certain death.

All assembled round the body; but help had come too late; and the

conductor was compelled to proceed, in order to give notice to the

authorities of the next town of what had occurred, and to bury the

remains there. Fortunately, the place was not far distant; and the

horses, as though wishing to flee from the fearful load which they

dragged after them, put all their strength and mettle to the draught. In

less than an hour, the boat stopped alongside of the broad masonry quay

of the canal, whence the news of the casualty quickly spread, and half

the town came out to the boat.

The settlers had to leave the burial of the body to some of their

German countrymen resident there, as the boats would not wait so long on

any condition; and paying the expenses out of the little stock of the

deceased, they quitted, with anything but cheerful feelings, the spot

where they had left the first of their company dead behind them.

It was some time, too, before the former easy tone was resumed. The

people had become dejected; for the quick putting aside of the body, the

little ceremony there was made in taking it away, gave them a glimpse of

the little value that _human life_ bore in their new home. Pastor

Hehrmann was particularly affected by the calamity, and exhorted the

young people again, in the most earnest manner, to follow the warnings

of the Americans, who must, of course, be best acquainted with the

dangers of their own land.

The boats approached the little town of Lockport, where one of them was

to take in further cargo. The captain, however, collected the

passage-money before they arrived here, lest any of his passengers might

step on shore, and forget to return. The fares were paid by each of the

settlers, as agreed upon, out of their own pockets. Mr. Siebert, now,

began to confess that they had, perhaps, brought some things which were

not absolutely necessary to their progress, particularly as he now, for

the first time, noticed that the German implements differed essentially

from the American. His voice, however, found no echo, and the old

story--"We've brought them so far with us, and can't leave them now,"

again silenced every objection.

The boats were to remain half a day at Lockport, and the American

advised the Germans to ride over and see the Falls of Niagara, from

which they were not very distant, and whither the locomotive would carry

them in a very short time.

Pastor Hehrmann determined at once to give his family the treat of this

grand view, and Mr. Becher, M. Von Schwanthal, and Dr. Normann offered

to accompany them; the rest did not think it worth while to undertake a

journey expressly on account of a waterfall, but determined, instead, on

viewing the surrounding country, and left the boat before its arrival at

the town, so as to reach there about noon.

It was late before the whole company assembled again from their various

expeditions. The Niagara excursionists were quite delighted with the

lofty and wonderful spectacle which they had enjoyed, and the others,

especially the country people, were equally astonished at the singular

agricultural arrangements which they had met with. Schmidt, especially,

could not contain himself, for he had met with a couple of fellow

countrymen at Lockport, and had learnt a thousand different matters from

them, which it cost him the greatest possible trouble to believe.

"Round every little field, even if it were only half an acre, there is

what they call a fence,"[5] he kept constantly repeating: "why one will

have nothing else to do, all one's life, but to chop wood and split it."

"I should like to know what I'm to do here," said a locksmith, who had

been into one of the log-houses; "why everything is made of wood here

that we make of iron. The fences may be all very well; but when it

comes to hasps, and hinges, and door-locks of wood--why, there is an end

of everything."

"Well, thus much I can see," said the tailor, "they don't use carpets in

their houses, that's certain; and as to their having wooden locks, that

seems to me quite natural; I should like to see the thief that could

find anything in them worth carrying away."

"They've got no wheels to their ploughs," said Schmidt; "not the least

vestige of a wheel."

"And one is not safe of one's life in the street!" exclaimed the tailor:

"a drove of cows comes along every moment; five times have I been

obliged to climb up to the top of one of their high fences; every time

the great brutes looked at me as though they would eat me. But--hallo!

there's the horn blowing again; the boats are off; so now for Buffalo!"

It was nearly evening when they resumed their journey, and consequently

it was night when they reached Buffalo, on Lake Erie, and they remained

on board the canal-boat until the following morning. A steamer was to

leave at ten o'clock for Cleveland, across Lake Erie, and Dr. Normann

advised them not to neglect the opportunity of going by her, as they

would thereby continue their journey most speedily, and also most

cheaply.

The cargo had now to be transhipped for the fourth time, and in

Cleveland yet again, to a canal-boat, as far as Portsmouth; and in

Portsmouth, for the last time, to another steamer. The treasurer now

clearly saw that the cash in hand would only be sufficient for the

payment of the freight, and perhaps would scarcely suffice for that; he

therefore proposed, either to sell a portion of their goods, or else to

leave them behind, as there were daily opportunities of forwarding them

to the Ohio and the Mississippi. However much a large section of the

settlers might still be opposed to this measure, yet the majority saw at

last that it was necessary that something should be done, which ought

indeed to have been done long since, and, after lengthy debates, the

Committee was authorized to sell a portion of the utensils. But however

the Society might debate about the matter, it was impossible to carry it

out, for if the Committee had had as many days as it had hours for the

purpose of carrying into effect such a sale, it would even then have

striven in vain; for, in the first place, the settlers could not agree

concerning the particular articles which were to be parted with, and, in

the next place, there was no buyer to be found, even at the most

reasonable prices; there was only one blacksmith who came forward, and

he would only pay them for certain articles valued as old iron. This was

rather too much of a good thing, and the suggestion of the landlord of

the tavern, where they had put up for the short time, was gratefully

accepted--viz., to leave the things in an old out-building, which in

winter served for a wood-shed, until they should be inquired for.

According to the advice of several Germans there, they took with them,

besides two carts and a wagon, which, if sold, must have been replaced

hereafter at a high price, (although no more than their freight came

to,) only some saws, chains, and axes, and scarcely left themselves time

to get the rest on board the "Ontario" steamer which soon after rang her

bell and commenced her passage to Cleveland, whereby they were compelled

to leave their remaining things exposed on the water-side. The landlord,

however, promised to take care of everything for them, that they need

not make themselves anxious about it, and swung his cap after them

besides, as long as he could see them.

They reached Cleveland in the night; had to unload there, for the fifth

time, and get themselves and their things into a canal-boat, which bore

them through Ohio State to the Ohio River, at the little town of

Portsmouth; and it was here that they got on board the steamer which was

to take them to the mouth of the Big Halchee, and consequently to within

about fifteen miles of their destination, the projected town of

"Hoffnung."

In Portsmouth, again, they only stopped so long as was necessary to

remove their things on board, for when they arrived, the steamer was on

the point of pushing off, and was only prevailed upon to wait for a

short time by the prospect of the large number of passengers. Any

bargaining for freight or passage-money was therefore out of the

question, and before they were aware of it they saw themselves on the

broad Ohio, gliding past its picturesquely beautiful banks.

"A fine voyage this is!" growled the brewer, when he got time, at last,

to seat himself, weary and tired, on the large chest which contained his

clothes and linen;--"one eternal driving--one eternal lugging about. How

often have I had to haul this cursed box out of one boat into another.

Thank Heaven, this is the last."

"I'm better off there;" laughed the tailor, "my luggage is soon got

across; this little knapsack; the hat-box--the hat lies in the

church--and this handkerchief, with the biscuit and sausage in it, are

all my riches. But, I say, brewer, between ourselves, who is to pay our

passage-money when we've got no more?"

"Why, we're nearly there," replied the brewer.

"Yes; but at present," said the tailor, pulling a long face, "I'm

regularly stumped!"

"No more money?"

"Not a rap."

"Well!" cried the brewer, astonished, "that's a good one; the Committee

will look rather glum."

"Listen," said the shoemaker, who advanced towards them at this moment,

"I've got something on my mind which I should like to tell you."

"Out with it," ejaculated the brewer, encouragingly.

"I have no more money!"

"Come to my heart, companion of my sorrow!" spouted the tailor, in the

mock-heroic style, "now I'm no longer afraid; now there are two of us,

the thing is getting common."

"Well, I'll be hanged if I can see the comfort of that," remarked the

brewer, shaking his head; "the best thing you can do is to go to the

Committee and let them consider the matter."

At this moment they were called by one of the Oldenburghers to the

after-deck, where all the settlers were assembled, (for only Hehrmann's

wife and daughters and Dr. Normann had taken cabin passages,) in order

to confer on an important subject. Five other members of the society had

announced themselves to the Committee as no longer possessing any money

to defray their further travelling expenses, and had applied for the

assistance of the community. They promised to work out every advance so

soon as they should get to their destination. The tailor had his name

and the shoemaker's immediately placed on the list, and the question now

only remained, whether this money was to be supplied out of the funds in

hand or by contributions.

Mr. Siebert, senior, opposed the former proposition with might and main,

and produced the accounts which he had kept of freight and transport

expenses, which, notwithstanding all the bargaining, alone amounted to a

hundred and sixty dollars; so that the whole finances amounted only to

about sixty dollars, while they were still twelve hundred miles from

their new abode.

There was not much to be objected to this--the matter was too clear; but

new difficulties presented themselves when it came to raising a

subscription in order to pay the passage-money of their

fellow-travellers. The Oldenburghers formally opposed it, and declared

that they, too, possessed nothing more, and wished also to be put upon

the list.

Mr. Siebert had behaved rather passively and indifferently hitherto, but

now he came out, and requested all present to give him their attention

for a short time. When all was silent, he turned towards his

fellow-travellers, and, quiet and self-possessed, thus addressed them:--

"Gentlemen, we have come to that point in which our future fortunes, our

future relations to each other, must be ascertained. What was our

intention when we forsook our native land? We intended to found a new

home for ourselves--we intended to buy a strip of land, and to become

farmers. We have got the land--but more is required for farming besides

land merely. We must, as soon as we reach our destination, procure, not

provisions alone, but also utensils for the tillage of the soil, for the

erection of warmer and more substantial habitations; we must purchase

cattle; for however easily cattle may increase in this new country,

still, above all things, the stock must first exist; we must have horses

to draw the ploughs which are to prepare our fields. For all this, money

is required--money, _much_ money; and if we are not in a condition to

raise that, why, our settlement ceases at once, even before it has

begun.

"All this, moreover, was well known to you before we left Bremen, and

_all_ then expressed themselves ready to satisfy such requisitions as

had for their object the founding and maintenance of our new colony, to

the best of their ability, and with cheerfulness. Shall we now, when the

string is first touched, go back from this? Or does _not_ the assistance

of the members (who are necessary to the preservation of the whole)

conduce to the _general_ good? Assuredly it does--and is a principal

condition of the whole. But, as we have touched upon this subject now, I

must go back to our earlier plan, and remind you that the period has now

arrived to put it into execution. Let every one contribute, according to

his ability, towards the common fund, of which an accurate account will

be kept; and the amount subscribed, let it be ever so small, shall yield

interest at four per cent., as pre-arranged; while, as actual occupiers

of the land, the lenders' money is perfectly secured. Besides, this is a

subject long since and frequently discussed; I have even the list here

upon which each of you have entered how much (about) he should be able

and willing to come forward with; the question, therefore, only is,

whether you will perform your former engagements--whether, in fact,

generally, you are minded to carry out your former plans; for now the

time has come for ascertaining this. As it concerns a question,

moreover, which you would probably wish to consider, I request your

reply this afternoon."

The meeting now adjourned, and stormy debates commenced, for the

Emigrants were once more to touch their funds, and that to a more

considerable extent than before, and to place their last money in the

hands of the Committee whom they thereby virtually invested with

absolute authority, for they made themselves entirely dependent upon

them. They considered the matter backwards and forwards; the

Oldenburghers spoke against it; they wanted to divide the land purchased

into as many portions as there were persons who had contributed to its

purchase, so that each might manage his own share on his own account;

but this did not suit the others, who considered the working in common

so much more beneficial and more conducive to their object.

The Committee had gained an important advantage in having joined them in

the 'tween decks; it appeared more natural to them; besides, the little

shanties, which lay scattered all about the banks, also spoke to their

hearts. Thus, they thought to themselves, must their new homes be,

though of course only for the first few years.

The fields adjoining looked so fruitful, the apple and peach orchards

round about the dwellings looked so inviting, that they felt half

inclined to put an end to the question by a hasty resolution; and when,

to crown all, Pastor Hehrmann, Mr. Herbold, and Becher came among them,

and exhorted them to be of good cheer, and when Mr. Becher handed over

100 dollars, and the other two 200 dollars each, before their eyes, to

Siebert, senior, they could not think of considering the matter further;

even the Oldenburghers felt touched; and before two o'clock of the

afternoon, after a narrow inspection, there was found collected, from

all members able to pay, 1932 dollars into the common purse; certainly a

respectable fund to found a modest home in the woods with. The passage

money of the penniless was paid out of this at once, and they undertook

to repay the expenditure so soon as their funds would permit.

Having got over this difficulty, the "settlers" employed themselves in

examining surrounding objects a little more narrowly than hitherto they

had been able to do, on account of the constant bustle. The steamer

itself first claimed their whole attention; it appeared quite different

from the Eastern boats in which they had travelled before. The engine

stood upon deck, and two regular stories were erected, and upon the

latter, whilst the helmsman's place, instead of being aft, was forward,

in a small glass house between the two great chimneys. The cargo was

mostly below in the hold, and the first story, arranged for cabin

passengers only, was not to be approached by deck passengers; but

Siebert, senior, and Pastor Hehrmann had an opportunity of seeing the

whole when they paid the total amount of freight and passage money which

they had collected from the individual members. Pastor Hehrmann,

besides, might have remained there on account of his family, but he

wished, just at that time, to avoid everything which might lead to envy

or discussion. The cabin was beautifully fitted up, the long and large

saloon was closely hung with pictures, and between these, large richly

fringed crimson curtains concealed the sleeping berths for gentlemen,

whilst an apartment in the after-part of the boat was separated by a

glass-door from the rest, and distinguished as the ladies' cabin, to

which was added, besides, a small black shield, with an inscription in

gold letters thereon, announcing, 'no admittance.'

The mode of steering the boat struck them particularly, for, as the

steersman stood in front, two wire ropes issued from the little house in

which the wheel was turned, right through the ship, aft to the rudder.

The two long boilers were placed forward of the engine, and were there

fired by the stokers.

As they stopped at several small towns, they only reached Cincinnati,

the largest city of Ohio State, and, indeed, of the whole of Western

America, on the next day. The Captain announced to them that he should

remain there until the following morning, and, therefore, that they

would have ample time to look about the town, only they must be aboard

by seven the next morning. The people did not need to be told this

twice; they streamed ashore in shoals, and drew off in single groups

through the broad and handsome streets of the town. But everywhere they

met Germans; they saw their countrymen in all parts; and when they got

over some canal bridges into the other part of the town, their mother

tongue sounded out of every door, and out of every open window.

Our party of four, whom we have so often already followed in their

wanderings, again found themselves together, and determined to make a

regular good use of the day, to see whatever was worth seeing and within

reach, without much expense.

They strolled slowly along the quay, or steam-boat landing, as it is

there called, and were just passing one of the innumerable little

clothes-stores, when a young and dapper little fellow, with well-curled

hair, and very shining boots, dived out of the depths of the recess,

approached the four men, cast a scrutinizing glance at them, and then,

without more ado, seized Schmidt round the waist, and dragged him

towards the entrance, whilst he, at the same time, gabbled a lot of

English stuff to him, of which Schmidt did not understand one word.

"Let me go," he cried, peevishly, at last; "or at all events, talk so

that I may understand what you want."

The young man still hung back with his German, which, he undoubtedly

understood; but as he saw that his English was of no use, he begged our

four fellow-travellers in very good, though rather Jewish German, just

to step in and look at his goods.

"We don't want anything," said Schmidt, who did not feel comfortable at

being caught hold of in such a way by a stranger; "our clothes are all

good."

"All good!" repeated contemptuously the young Israelite--"all good? Then

I should like to see what you call bad. And you go across the street in

Cincinnati in that coat? you present yourself before decent people with

those trousers? you wear such a hat upon your head? If I only had a

garden I would change a new suit for this old one; I would, upon my

honour, only to get such a scarecrow for birds as is not to be found

elsewhere in the world--I give you my word of honour, I would."

"Hark ye," said Schmidt, who was getting angry, "what the---- Well, I

wont use bad language--though I was going to say----"

"Don't be angry, my good sir; don't be angry," exclaimed the little

fellow, "the clothes would be good enough if any other person wore them,

but with such a handsome figure as yours, it's a thousand pities to have

such a bundle of rags hanging round you. Here"--he interrupted Schmidt,

who was getting angry again--"I'll sell you a whole suit for----"

"Much obliged," said the latter, and made an effort to free himself from

the hands of the clothes-dealer; "I don't want anything." But the thing

was easier thought of than executed, for the little Israelite held fast,

and overwhelmed poor Schmidt with such a heap of compliments, as to his

appearance, how wrong it was of him to habit his handsome limbs in that

fashion, that at last the latter did not know what to do, and was

already asking the price of a pair of trousers, merely to get rid of the

importunate one, when the brewer, who for some time past had found the

thing going beyond the bounds of his patience, came to the rescue. With

powerful grasp he seized the slender Jew, till the latter sung out

lustily, and said to him--

"Hands off! Hands off, I say! Nobody is forced to buy bargains here; if

we want any clothes, the tailor will make them for us; that's what he's

there for." And seizing his astonished comrade by the arm, he dragged

him by force out of the shop.

"The devil is in the tailors here in America," said Schmidt, when he got

outside. "These fellows are worse than highwaymen, who at all events

wait till it gets dark before they attack you, but that fellow begins at

noon-day."

"And you would have bought something, sure enough," said the shoemaker,

as they turned up the main street.

"What was I to do? he would not let me go."

"Look, here's another clothes-shop, and another Jew inside," said the

tailor; "this makes the fifteenth out of thirty-three houses that we

have passed; they just do swarm here."

Strolling thus up the street, they came between the sixth and seventh

cross streets, opposite to a German tavern, and finding a number of

their fellow-countrymen there, they stopped. But these had been some

time in America, and so soon as they heard that the four men were

new-comers, they set up such a lamentation about bad times, and want of

money, that the settlers felt quite hot and uncomfortable.

It is true, that at first they would not give in to these complaints,

for what Dr. Normann had told them about the country sounded quite

different, but at last, staggered by the testimony of so many

bystanders, doubts began to arise in their minds, and the shoemaker

said,--rather faint-heartedly, however--

"If one can earn a dollar a day at work, I should think that one might

live upon it."

"Yes, if one could get it," replied an old Hanoverian peasant, who,

rather ragged, and with pale cheeks, was sitting on a bench before the

house, nodding hard with his head at the same time. "But they scarcely

pay one twenty-five dollars a month during the harvest, and after that,

poor devils may get on again as best they can. They offered me and my

two sons six dollars a month; the two boys were obliged to accept it,

but I was taken ill, and am eating up nearly all they earn."

"Are they making no railroads, no canals, hereabouts? There's always

plenty of money when they are going on."

"Half a dollar a day, and on wet days they don't work. Payments are made

monthly in paper money, and if one afterwards loses the fourth part

only, one must think one's self lucky."

"But handicraftsmen are well paid here, are they not?" asked the tailor.

"Paid!" exclaimed another, laughing ironically, out of the open door.

"I'm a tailor, and I've worked for two months past for my board."

"But, my good people," said the little fellow, dolefully, "why, it must

be dreadful here in America, then. What is one to do?"

"It's not so bad as the people make out," interposed a farmer, who now

joined them, and whose clean clothes and white fine linen bespoke a

certain easiness of circumstances. "It's not so bad," he repeated, "only

you must not suppose that roast pigeons fly about, crying, 'come eat

me!' First learn the ways and customs, first learn the language of the

country, and you'll work yourself into the whole system of the people

with whom you have to mix. Only don't stop in the towns; out into the

country, become countrymen, breed cattle; if you have to work for small

wages at first, what matter; every man must pay his apprenticeship-fee,

and don't suppose that you can escape doing that here. If for a year, or

even two, things go ill with you, don't abuse the country and the people

directly; no one drops from the sky a master ready-made, and good work

must bide good time."

"Well, that sounds reasonable," said the brewer; "there's no great

lamentation about the matter, nor does he overpraise the thing; so

there's some hope left, that, after awhile, we may earn something on our

land."

"Bought already?" said the farmer.

"Yes; a whole company."

"Good land?"

"It's said to be very good; we haven't seen it yet."

"And bought already; well, that is old-countryman like; the Americans

don't do things that way; they see the land first, and then they don't

always buy it exactly; they go on Congress land, which they have to pay

for in a couple of years, and with their ready money buy cattle; that

doubles its value in three years, and is as good as thirty-three or

forty per cent. Where is your land, then?"

"In Tennessee, on a small river which they call Big Halchee, or

something like that; they've got such break-jaw names here."

"Big Halchee?" said the farmer--"that is a creek, a brook merely; but

the land there is said to be good. 'Tis unhealthy, it is true."

"The deuce it is!" exclaimed the shoemaker, startled. "Dr. Normann told

us it lay in the healthiest part of the State."

"Well, then, it must be a long way up the Creek."

"I don't know what you mean by crick," grunted the brewer; "the place is

said to be fifteen miles from the Mississippi, and there are some houses

upon it."

"Very likely," said the farmer; "I was never up the country there. And

when are you going?"

"Now, directly."

"Now? In August? Well then, I wish you joy of the fever," said the

farmer, laughing, drank the glass of cider which he had called for, and

went off up the street.

The brewer meanwhile ordered some beer, growled something about

nonsensical stuff, fever, fiddlestick, old women's tales, and so on, and

then wandered off with his comrades higher up into the town.

"Well," said the shoemaker, at last, stopping near a shoemaker's

workshop--"if that isn't curious; I begin to think that all the

shoemakers in Cincinnati are confectioners. Only look now at the

gingerbread and sugarcandy in that window there, a whole lot of it; the

few pairs of shoes only seem to be hung beside by way of ornament."

"A pretty sort of ornament, indeed," grinned the tailor. "The shoemaker

is right, though; honeycakes and leather must agree well together here;

but perhaps it isn't a shoemaker's."

"Not a shoemaker's!" bawled the other, peevishly. "I should think I

ought to know a shoemaker when I see one. Don't you see him hammering

away, yonder, between the honeycake and the pink child's-shoe."

"Yes, sure enough," said the little man; "it must be the custom here,

then; opposite yonder is another, and he has got a whole box of

ready-made[6] shoes standing before his door."

"Hallo! he must have been a hard-working fellow," exclaimed the

shoemaker, in astonishment, on perceiving the number of shoes set up in

a large box; "and upon my word all made with little wooden pegs,

too--they don't appear to sew here at all."

"Where shall we go to this evening?" asked the brewer. "I wish there was

something to be seen here."

"Another striped pig, perhaps?" suggested Schmidt.

"Nonsense," growled the other. "But, I say, the Museum yonder, in that

wide street where the red lantern is hanging, is said to be well worth

seeing. What say you?--shall we go in? It only costs a quarter dollar."

"That would be just one half of all that I am worth," said the tailor.

"Well, I'll pay for you, tailor, if Schmidt will pay for the shoemaker."

"Agreed," replied Schmidt. "I'm willing to stand Sam; only I should

like to be shaved first, for my beard feels very prickly--but I have not

seen a sign of a bason[7] anywhere, although I've been constantly

looking for one."

"There are some Germans; perhaps they can tell us where a barber is to

be found."

"Walk down here till you come to the first red-and-white painted pole,

that's a barber's shop."

"What! a little pole with a gilt knob at the top?" asked Schmidt.

"Yes, there are five or six of them in this street."

"Well, that is a curious sign for a barber," said the shoemaker; "I've

been puzzling my brains all day to find out what those poles could

mean."

They soon arrived at one of these shops, whence the cheerful notes of a

fiddle issued towards them. Schmidt went in, while the rest employed

themselves outside in noticing the passers-by, and in looking into the

different shop windows; but they had not waited long, before Schmidt,

with his face all over lather up to his eyes, came running out again,

clapped his hat on his head, and fled.

The three burst into a roar of laughter, and other people also stopped

to see what was the matter.

But Schmidt, who perhaps was a little ashamed, quickly wiped the soap

off with his handkerchief, and turned aside into a side street, whither

his comrades followed him.

"What, in the name of wonder, has happened to you?" asked the brewer.

"Nothing," said Schmidt; "I was a jackass; but I got such a fright when

I saw that tall black fellow with the razor."

"The _black_ fellow?" asked the tailor.

"Yes," said Schmidt. "When I went in, I sat myself down with my face to

the door, and a little white boy lathered me, while at the back of the

shop, behind a sort of curtain, somebody was performing beautifully on

a fiddle; it went so fast, that one could not distinguish the different

notes. When my face had been lathered, the playing suddenly stopped, and

before I was aware of it, one of those negro fellows that run about the

streets here by dozens--a big, dangerous-looking fellow, with great

goggle eyes, and a shining razor in his hand--approached me. I suppose

that he was going to shave me, but I was so startled that up I jumped,

tore the napkin off my neck, caught up my hat, and was out of the house

like lightning; they must have had a good laugh at me."

"Didn't they just laugh!" said the shoemaker; "the black stepped into

the doorway, and grinned till it looked as though his two rows of teeth

stretched from ear to ear. But it was stupid of you, Schmidt; he

wouldn't have cut your head off."

"Oh, I know that well enough, only I was so taken aback at the first

moment; the fellow looked so grim. What am I to do now?"

"Why, go into some other barber's shop, for you must not show yourself

in that one again on any account; it's as well that we leave here

to-morrow morning. There's one down yonder."

Schmidt followed this advice, and went through the operation this time,

but declared positively, that he had again fallen into the hands of a

black.

When this matter had been disposed of, they wandered slowly down

Main-street again, and got entrance tickets for the Museum.

There we must leave them, and follow another section of the travelling

companions--viz., the two Sieberts, Pastor Hehrmann, Becher, and

Herbold, who had likewise walked up into the town, and had sought out a

chemist and druggist named Strauss, to whom they were recommended by Dr.

Normann. He received them in a very friendly manner, and in the

afternoon took a walk with them. Mr. Strauss had not been long in

America himself, but had lived nearly the whole time in Cincinnati, and

appeared to have made himself pretty well acquainted with the state of

affairs there; he did not praise the place much, and showed a

disposition to remove westward. Siebert immediately tried to gain him

over for their colony, but was unable to induce him to promise anything

certain, although the idea of quitting Cincinnati did not seem to be a

difficulty. He inquired with much interest into the plans and prospects

of his countrymen, but shook his head several times very doubtfully,

when the relators got into what he called their "castles in the air." He

had known Dr. Normann for some years, and inquired with much interest

after all that related to him.

"To be candid with you," he said, at last, "I don't altogether trust

that gentleman."

"How so?" exclaimed Mr. Siebert, in some alarm.

"Well, he has told me such stories about inventions which he pretends to

have made, some of which are really ridiculous; brags so much of

Republican-American sentiments, and altogether plays the part of such an

extraordinarily clever and wonderfully rich man, that I have become

somewhat distrustful of him, the more particularly, because, as far as

regards the latter assumption, I have strong proofs to the contrary; but

I may be mistaken; he may be a very honourable man, and a clever one he

certainly is."

Thus conversing about one thing and the other, they had wandered through

most of the streets of the town, and had returned to Main-street again,

when Strauss suddenly stopped before a low, wide building, with a wooden

staircase, and said--

"By the bye, we were talking, this morning, about the politics of the

Germans here; would you like to attend a German political meeting this

evening?"

"Willingly," they all said; "where is it held?"

"Just here, where we are standing, in the house of a fellow-countryman,

of course, who, besides, keeps very good beer. Cincinnati is, moreover,

the Munich[8] of North America. But here is the place; and, as I hear,

the speechifying has commenced----"

They walked in, and found a pretty numerous assemblage of Germans, who

were mostly sitting round a table, talking together in a very animated

manner, and only ceasing when one of them, by rattling a tin can,

intimated a wish to address the assembly.

The election of President was at hand, and the Democrats were trying

their utmost to get the Democrat Polk elected President; whilst the

Whigs were noways behind hand in _their_ exertions in opposition, and to

carry their candidate to the Capitol at Washington. But, instead of

being satisfied with praising their own respective candidates, and

placing them in the most favourable light, both parties were chiefly

engaged in blackening the character of the man put forward by the

opposite party, in such a dreadful manner, that if what they said were

true, no respectable dog could have accepted a piece of bread at his

hands.

In such a meeting they now found themselves, and the settlers had

already listened with great attention to the addresses of various

orators, whose words were frequently interrupted by shouts of

approbation, and rewarded by thunders of applause.

"It must be admitted," said Becher, when, after awhile, they had walked

up and down outside the house to cool themselves--"it must be admitted

that they have a peculiar way of speaking here--such violent abuse of

one man, whose only offence appears to be, that their opponents wish to

make him President; their style would not suit my taste; however,

different countries, different manners; probably the Whigs are not much

better."

"Worse still, if possible, worse still," said Strauss, laughing. "But

could you understand all that the people inside there were saying?"

"Well," replied Pastor Hehrmann, "I have listened pretty attentively,

but I cannot say that I comprehended everything; some of their sentences

seemed very bombastic."

"Yes," Becher interrupted him; "now that you mention it, I think I

could also affirm that those portions of the speeches which the people

applauded most loudly, contained nothing further than very vague ideas;

the good folks seem easily satisfied."

"Will you believe me," smiled Strauss, "that I will go in and talk

nonsense for five minutes--nonsense, pure barefaced nonsense--and that

at the conclusion it shall be hailed with loud plaudits?"

"Well, I don't think them quite so bad as that comes to, either," said

Pastor Hehrmann, with a deprecating shake of the head; "they are

actuated with the best intentions--viz., that of having the affairs of

the republic, in which they live, managed as well as possible; and if

they are not exactly learned men, still they probably can distinguish

sense from nonsense."

"Well," said Strauss, "we can make the experiment. Come in with me; only

keep serious; that's all I ask of you."

The meeting was powerfully excited by a speech which had just been made.

Here and there violent blows of fists upon the table testified what

strength their owners were capable of using should they be called upon

to combat for the right cause, and all of them were talking and

hallooing together.

Strauss had to rattle the tin can several times; at last the excitement

abated a little, and the new orator stood upon a chair.

"Gentlemen,"--he now began, after casting a searching glance round the

circle, and making some very long pauses, particularly in the

commencement, as though he were overcome by his feelings, until at last,

by degrees, he got into full swing, as Mr. Becher afterwards observed,

and pursued the thread of his discourse with more animated words and

gesticulations,--"It is with satisfaction--that I do myself the

honour--of standing up in this place--which it would be impossible to

express. I see that you are determined to remain true to your former

well-tried and honourable opinions. I see the fire of courage and of

patriotism beaming in your eyes. I see that you will not bow down again

under that yoke which you have but recently shaken off, together with

the old country, your former home." (No, no, no! from several parts of

the room.)--"Gentlemen, it is not only necessary that we should show

firm resolution in the exertions which we have attained by the

perseverance of our dear fellow-countrymen, and with iron determination

refuse to join a party which tries to frighten us by trickery and

bragging; no, we must also, conscious of our worth, in the hope of real

and irresistible conviction, endeavour to carry out that feeling which

inflames us with holy ardour, that feeling for justice and freedom which

is a birthright of Germans!" (Bravo! bravo! from all

sides.)--"Gentlemen," Strauss, becoming warmer, now proceeded--"you have

an internal conviction of the words of truth. Although British gold and

selfish opinions may oppress a portion of this holy republic, although

tyranny and oppression may threaten with chains and sharpened swords,

have you ever been dismayed? Did you not return gloriously and

triumphantly from the former battle?" (Hurrah for Strauss!

hurrah!)--"Yes, my dear fellow-countrymen, you understand my feelings,

but you also know, as I do, that a party cannot triumph in whose hearts

a participation in deceit and seductive appearances has taken root,

whose independence and convictions are attacked by venal brokers and

agents, in which the blind fanaticism of thousands aimed at a height

which, by chimerical hopes and impressions, composed of promises and

deceptions, sought in vain to attain that goal which comes to meet and

bless an honest heart." (Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for Strauss! the crowd

exclaimed, and the rejoicing and clattering of drinking vessels for some

moments drowned every other word.) "No, no, and no, again I say,"

continued Strauss, as soon as the noise had abated a little. "When the

heart does not with loud throbs throw itself into the arms of

liberty,--when strength does not stretch out its powerful hands into

one great alliance--where talent and knowledge do not work together with

firm and inflexible unanimity, where, during generations, evil has not

been held in contempt and good honoured--of what avail are the

fine-drawn nets of the hypocrites, who appear to spread their yarns with

cunning fingers? Let them spread them, let them contrive--the

tricksters! let the nets become closer and closer daily, which are to

conceal their guilt with an easily rent and transparent covering. Let

them rejoice in their vileness--let them, with gnashing teeth, defile

the throne of truth, which is firmly wound round the hearts of our party

with twenty-handed arms! Let them go on patiently. But as for us, I

point with luminous finger to the oriflamme of youthful Immortality--for

us, I say, away, away with cunning and false shame! away with fraud,

away with false appearances! We, my brothers, are German democrats, and

let our motto be, 'German perseverance and German truth!'"

"Hurrah!" screamed the crowd once more, in ear-piercing chorus, as

Strauss descended from the chair, and several approached, and shook

hands with him in a friendly manner.

Pastor Hehrmann, however, had quietly gone out as soon as the speech was

concluded; the rest now followed him; and Strauss, as soon as he joined

them, smilingly asked them whether he had been as good as his word.

"Deuce take it!" exclaimed Becher, "but that was a capital speech; and

how pleased they were with it!"

"That was nothing," whispered Strauss; "there were too many of the

'honourables' there, and one must not lay it on too thick with them. But

the other day I was in my element; they called upon me for a speech, and

I talked such stuff to them that at last I began to be ashamed myself.

At the conclusion I compared _our_ president to a comet, and said, that

'as the latter the more it stretches backward the broader it becomes, so

shall we in our progress grow and increase in strength, till, like a

brilliant comet in the night sky of the opposite party, we shall break

our way shining and flaming to the zenith of the firmament.' You should

have heard the applause; and the lacemaker from down in Front-street,

who has made a couple of thousand dollars or so, and therefore considers

himself a wonderfully clever fellow--but who, I may observe in passing,

is a dreadful Whig and a blockhead, and had only come to our meeting to

hear what was going forward,--went away, saying, 'It's all very well,

anybody can deal in abuse.'"

"But I don't consider it right to mystify the people in such a way as to

their feelings; why not speak to them in clear distinct words? why not

endeavour to strengthen them in pure unadulterated truth?"

"Mr. Hehrmann," said Strauss, becoming more serious, "I could answer

that question by another, but we will confine ourselves to what is

political. You dare not do it; no one would listen to you at last, and

the people would say, 'He will only tell us what we know well enough

already,' whether they know it or not. No, to be a Mentor of the people,

I, for one, shall not aspire; but if they will be made fools of it's

their own fault. If they would only learn to _think_ before they would

_abuse_, all that would not happen; but you may convince yourself, from

every individual, with a few exceptions, that what I say is correct.

Thousands of my worthy fellow-countrymen, some of whom even pass for

political luminaries, know and understand as little of American politics

as most German reviewers know of the books which they review. They just

cast a glance into them, and criticize away.

"The Germans here follow the multitude, and many of our German Tom

Noddys, who with puffed-up cheeks look down upon their poorer

countrymen, although they themselves, but a few months before, scarcely

had salt to their bread, become Whigs; because they now come in contact

with rich Americans who are Whigs, and who see through these

addle-heads, flatter them, and lead them by the nose so long as they

want to make use of them. You cannot conceive what a contemptible animal

is one of these German parvenus who has become rich. But it is getting

late, and we had better go to bed; farewell, therefore, until to-morrow;

I'll come round to the boat before it starts."

The settlers followed the advice of the apothecary, and, wearied with

the constant wandering about, retired to rest. Pastor Hehrmann, however,

continued silently to walk up and down the deserted deck in deep musing,

till weariness overcame him also, and he laid himself down, wrapped in

his cloak, beside the little cabin of the pilot, there in the open air,

to await the rising sun.

The dawn was yet contending with the increasing light of the young day,

and the crew, who had been busy at work cleaning the various decks, had

just concluded their labours, when the door of one of the sleeping

apartments in the ladies' cabin opened, and the pastor's elder daughter

stepped out into the fresh morning air, to greet the first rays of the

awakening day. The neighbourhood, still and pleasant, lay before her;

the river murmured and splashed lightly against the sides of the boat;

fishes leaped out of the water; single boats, with snow-white sails,

glided quickly across the stream, and all nature rested, overspread with

such a lovely charm, that the dear and good girl gently folded her

hands, and with her clear eyes turned toward the equally pure sky,

prayed inwardly.

"Good morning, Bertha!" whispered a voice, softly; and the maiden

started back, exclaiming "Oh!" with a glad voice--but she receded still

farther, pale and frightened, when she saw the sharp eyes of Dr. Normann

fixed upon her with a keen though friendly expression. He now climbed

quickly over the paddle-box down to the gallery of the ladies' cabin,

and approached the young girl, who timidly drew back, exclaiming,

reproachfully--"Doctor, you must have mistaken the place."

"No, my dear Bertha," said the doctor, seizing her hand, which she,

half mechanically, let him do. "No, I do not mistake, but the boat will

leave in a few hours, and I myself cannot leave Cincinnati, on account

of business, until the expiration of some weeks. It is therefore not

possible for me to part from you thus, without having first declared

myself."

Bertha would have withdrawn her hand, but he would not let her, but

continued, more passionately,

"Bertha, there is no time now to choose convenient times and places; I

am on the point of losing you. You must, during the whole time you have

known me, have remarked with what devotion I love you."

"Sir!" said Bertha, alarmed.

"Do not take away this hand from me," the doctor continued, with ardent

looks; "do not reject the heart of one who is capable, nay, the whole

wish of whose soul is to make you happy; do not turn your dear face

away; say at least that you are not angry with me."

"Leave me, sir, I beg of you," said the girl, who was now really

alarmed; "I can give you no hopes to encourage feelings which I cannot

reciprocate."

"I have startled you, Bertha, have I not?" asked the doctor; "you are

angry with me on that account."

"I am not angry with you; no, do not misunderstand me; you have been so

disinterestedly obliging to my parents, and to the whole company, that I

cannot help giving you my whole esteem."

"Oh! why that cold word--esteem?" said Normann.

"Do not demand more; I cannot, I dare not, ever feel more, I----"

"You love another; you love yonder young man, who----"

"Sir," said the otherwise so-retiring girl, drawing herself up proudly,

"I believe that I am not bound to give any account of my feelings to

you." With these words, she endeavoured to go back on the gallery, in

order to return into the cabin, whither the doctor dared not have

followed her, but he barred her passage, and said, in a low tone, but

gravely: "Bertha, I love you--love you with a passion that startles even

myself. Bertha, you _must_ be mine; do not rob me of every hope; say, at

least, that you may, one day."

"Sir, you will oblige me to call for assistance if you do not let me go.

You cannot hope to force me to love you? Farewell; _if_ we ever meet

again, may this conversation be forgotten by both of us. I bear no

ill-will towards you."

With these words, she stepped past the doctor, who no longer sought to

detain her, but looked darkly after her, and then murmuring something

between his teeth, quickly regained the upper deck; without looking

round, he jumped off the other side of the paddle-box in a bound or two

on to the lower deck of the boat, strode over the plank, and disappeared

in a few minutes more among the buildings of the town.

The Captain was as good as his word, as to their early departure; it was

not yet seven o'clock when his bell sounded for the first time, and soon

after, the mooring ropes were got in. Strauss, who wished to take leave

of his new friends, could scarcely press their hands, before the engines

began to work, and in a very short time more, the boat panted, hissing

and foaming, down the stream towards the father of the waters--the

Mississippi.

At breakfast, all the 'tween deck passengers assembled in the lower

deck, but they were not a little astonished on finding that Dr. Normann

had disappeared so mysteriously without taking leave. Pastor Hehrmann,

it is true, might have given them some explanation, for he had been an

unintentional spectator from the upper, or so-called hurricane deck, of

the whole interview between his daughter and the doctor; but the latter,

in hurrying off, had not observed Hehrmann, and as his daughter said

nothing on the subject, the pastor determined not to allude in any way

to what had taken place.

"What can have become of the doctor!" exclaimed Becher, when he had been

sought for everywhere, and the conviction forced itself upon them that

he was not on board. "This morning I saw him running hastily into the

town. I called after him, too, but he either did not, or would not hear

me."

"Probably," suggested the elder Siebert, "he went to look after

something or other, and did not think that the boat would start so soon.

Is his luggage still on board?"

"If I am not much mistaken, he carried that under his arm," replied

Becher, "but I will not positively affirm it."

M. Von Schwanthal now gave a different turn to the conversation as well

as to the thoughts of the settlers, by describing the Museum--where, on

the preceding evening, he had fallen in with our four-leaved shamrock,

Schmidt, the shoemaker, the tailor, and the brewer,--in such a droll

manner, that all assembled round him.

"They call it a Museum of Natural History," he said, laughing; "a couple

of cupboards full of stuffed birds, and hideous drawn-out beasts, are

the only things that belong to natural history in the place; but there

are plenty of other things; for example, mammoth's bones, Indian weapons

and dresses; a cuirass, picked up after the battle of Waterloo, on

which, if I mistake not, the hero's blood yet sticks; a French

postillion's boot--the latter was shown as something particularly

curious; a piece of steam-boiler that had burst and was blown from the

steamer, I don't know how many hundred yards, upon the shore; snakes in

spirits-of-wine; and, above all things, a horrible room-full of relics

of criminals; ropes and nightcaps of people who have been hanged;

awfully distorted heads of malefactors in spirits; hands and feet cut

off; knives and axes, with which deeds of murder have been done, and on

which the blood may yet be seen. Pish! a shudder runs through me at the

very thought of it."

"And then the large dolls," said the tailor.

"Yes, splendid wax-figures, representing nothing but tales of murder and

robbery, and then such attitudes! One thing amused me very much; under a

glass-case there stood a kind of machine, put together of iron and

brass wheels: it is true it was immovable, but below was a label pasted

on it, whereon was written, 'Perpetuum mobile.'"

"And the last was pretty, too," said the shoemaker, who could not

conceive why the Committee laughed at this; "there came in one of these

negroes, and threw a whole lot of plates in the air, and danced about

underneath them without letting one fall to the ground."

"But how about 'Hell?'" smiled Von Schwanthal, glancing sideways at the

brewer; the other three burst out into a hearty laugh.

"Well," said the brewer, rather vexed, "I should like to know who would

not have been startled. They've got a concern there which they call

Hell, a whole room-full of devils, poor souls, snakes, and I don't know

all what. On one side there was a railing, so I leant quietly against

it, and was looking at a tall skeleton that stood close beside me and

had frightful claws; but while I was thinking of nothing of the kind, it

turned suddenly round and sprang right at me--it looked horrid."

"The brewer did not make a bad jump either," Von Schwanthal continued,

taking up the narrative; "but unfortunately he alighted upon the corns

of an old lady, who began to abuse him soundly."

"She must have been a German," said the brewer; "for though she

spluttered out nothing but English gibberish, yet the first word she

said was 'Rindvieh.' (brute or ox, lout,) I understood that."

"That wouldn't be difficult for you," tittered the tailor.

Siebert, senior, had meanwhile looked round once more after Dr. Normann,

but without being able to see or hear anything of him, and the emigrants

had to comfort themselves with the fact, that he had promised to visit

them very shortly in their new settlement. For the moment, also, their

senses were too much occupied with the present, in seeing all that was

new, which glided past them, sometimes on the river, sometimes on the

shore, and as the weather was warm and beautiful, they spent the greater

part of the day, as of the night, on deck.

Bertha, after the doctor left the boat, had given vent to her distressed

feelings, in her lonely berth, by a healing flood of tears; but

determined on concealing the conversation which had taken place from her

parents, in order not to trouble them unnecessarily, and at breakfast

she appeared collected and almost cheerful.

The boat pursued its course with rushing speed down stream, and already,

on the second evening, reached the mouth of the Ohio, the little town of

Cairo, at the south-west angle of Illinois State. But here the

passengers had the mortification to discover that they were to be

removed into another boat--"the Orinoco," upon one of the largest of the

Mississippi steamers, as the smaller, "Dayton," hoped to do more

business on the Ohio, which just then could not be conveniently

navigated by the larger vessels, by reason of the want of water. But

they did not experience much inconvenience in the matter, for the little

vessel laid herself close alongside of the larger one, and in less than

three hours all was ended, and their position was at the same time

considerably improved, as well as regards room as convenience.

Now, therefore, they found themselves, for the first time, on the mighty

Mississippi River; Pastor Hehrmann gazed gloomily out upon the yellow

surface of its waters, which with headlong rapidity rolled themselves

down in enormous breadth between its flat banks.

"And I had pictured to myself such a lovely idea of this mighty

Mississippi!" he murmured to himself; "and now it looks so desert and

wild, so malicious and spiteful: many a thing loses its charm when it is

looked at near at hand."

The remaining settlers seemed less unpleasantly surprised by the grand

surface of water which spread itself out before them.

"That's something like a river!" said the tailor; "one almost feels as

though one were going to sea again; I really should not know which way

to steer to get down it."

"It's a good job the pilot isn't quite so stupid," said the shoemaker,

and the little one probably concurred in this view, for he simply nodded

his head.

But the weather did not continue so favourable as it had been. From the

other side of the river, from above the close tree-tops, dark heavy

masses of cloud rolled themselves on towards them, spread all over the

sky, and made the neighbourhood look yet more dreary and more

forbidding. Now and then single clouds discharged their loads of water,

and the rain streamed down at those moments with such fearful force that

the people in the boat, which rushed through it, felt quite anxious and

frightened. But while they were sitting in the dry and tolerably

comfortable space of the lower deck, awaiting the clearing up of the

weather, the by no means agreeable cry of "wood aboard! wood aboard!"

was heard through the boat, and, well or ill, _all_ had to turn out, for

_all_ had engaged, when they paid less passage-money than they otherwise

would have done, to help to carry the wood for the firing of the boat. A

certain Republican spirit had prompted them not to shrink from a kind of

work which some other passengers who travelled with them did not shun.

It is true that they had not taken into account that their clothes were

not suitable, and that they possessed neither the practice nor the

endurance required to bear, without grumbling, a hardship which they now

discovered was none of the lightest.

The evening set in; it became dark, and rained as though the skies were

coming down; and during several hours they had to clamber up the steep

and slippery river-bank, about twenty or thirty feet in height, and get

down again with three or four heavy pieces of cordwood on their

shoulders, in doing which they not unfrequently slipped and fell, and

sometimes hurt themselves considerably without receiving any comfort in

return, except that, when after three hours' work, they went on board

again, tired and worn out, with torn and soiled clothes, they were

laughed at into the bargain by the crew of the "Orinoco." In return for

this, and for a repetition of the same work two or three times more,

they saved a dollar per man on the whole voyage.

The next day was not much better; the weather remained dull and rainy,

and the wood-carrying had to be done twice more; but they were now

hourly approaching nearer and nearer to the object of their journey, and

the captain told Siebert, senior, who spoke English, that he should land

them about one in the morning at the mouth of the Big Halchee.

"Do you know the place?" asked Siebert.

"No, I do not; but the pilot thinks it is a little creek of that name,

and lies between Randolph and the northern boundary of Tennessee."

"What is the name of the town at the mouth of it, then?"

"Town!--there's no town at the mouth."

"No town! Well, then, some little place?"

"Yes; a cordwood-chopper lives there with his family, if he has not

moved away yet. Those people are always on the move."

"Strange!" grumbled Siebert to himself; but the idea did not seem to

please him, that only a solitary wood-cutter should occupy the mouth of

their river; for he concluded, not unreasonably, that many settlers must

have located themselves there, had the watercourse been of any

magnitude; he said nothing about it, however. And now preparations

commenced in earnest for getting ready all their cargo of valuables, in

order not to be detained too long with the unloading when the boat

should land. It was unpleasant, of course, that it should rain and be

dark when they reached the place of their destination, but that could

not be helped; all were glad to be so near the goal, and had not the

least fear for the future. They were aware, no doubt, that they should

have to make shift with the few buildings which they should find upon

their farm, but still it was a beginning, and comforts might be obtained

by and by.

Night came on--the rain poured down in streams--all nature seemed in

agitation; but the mighty boat hissed and hurried through the roaring

storm, dashing with its paddles the yellow waves the wilder, towards the

steep and loose river hanks, where they broke, so that here and there

large lumps of earth were loosened and precipitated with a splash into

the flood.

"But we can't land in weather like this," said Von Schwanthal to

Siebert, senior; "the captain will have to lie-to until to-morrow

morning."

"That he wont;" said Siebert, shaking his head, "we needn't reckon upon

that; these captains of steamers are a rough, hardened set of fellows;

no, he would put us ashore if it rained pebble-stones."

"If there's only a good tavern not far from the shore we may there await

better weather."

"Well, I hope there may be!" sighed Siebert, and went to his box, to

cord it and get it ready.

Bustling activity now reigned everywhere among the passengers, but not

the best of humours; the weather had put them out, and the greater part

of them sat about, grumbling, agitated by uncomfortable feelings, in the

corners of the 'tween decks.

Midnight was past, when the bell rang for landing, while the thunder

outside accompanied its sound, which echoed far out into the darkness.

Not long after a firebrand was swung on the left shore, and the vessel

took a sweep in order to lie-to with her stern to the stream; the

captain at the same time stepped to the 'tween decks, and cried--

"Big Halchee--who's for the shore?"

The sailors and stokers followed, and seized everything that came to

hand, and put it ashore; but not above, at the top of the bank, but

close to the river's edge, where about fifteen cords of wood were

already piled up. These meanwhile were carried aboard by another portion

of the workpeople, and the whole scene was a dreadfully confused and

disordered one. Women complained, children cried, men swore; the rain

meanwhile actually _flooded_ from the sky, and the women, as well the

Hehrmanns as the other families, could only be got up the steep bank of

the shore with considerable trouble, where they perceived, by the glare

of a pine-torch, a solitary small and low house, the door of which was

open, while in the chimney there burned a slightly glimmering fire.

The owner of the house and of the cordwood accompanied them as far as

the entrance, and made signs for them to enter. But Siebert, who had

previously exchanged a few words with him, whispered, as the latter

turned away, "Don't crowd too near the bed; the wife of our host lies

there; she died about an hour since!"

There was something so awfully quiet in the words, that Pastor Hehrmann

looked round terrified after the American; but he went quietly down to

the steamer to receive the price for his wood. There the captain, out of

particular civility, had caused an old tarpaulin to be spread over the

goods which had been tumbled ashore, and which covering he intended to

fetch away on his upward journey: Siebert, however, quickly bought it of

him for five dollars, for he now saw how necessary it would be for their

use, and then followed the rest into the shanty. All could not have

found space in this, even had the dread of the corpse not driven the

greater part of them into the most distant part of the room;

fortunately, however, there was also a so-called kitchen, or

smoking-house, behind the dwelling, and here a great number of the

settlers were billetted, at least for the night. Oh, how anxiously all

waited the morrow.

It was a fearful night; the storm roared round the house, so that the

weak boarding which formed the roof clappered and tumbled, and here and

there the rain poured through in streams. The mosquitoes appeared

insatiable, and swarmed round the poor tortured ones in an almost

unbearable manner. The little children, in particular, alarmed by the

novelty of all that surrounded them, would not be quieted, and by their

cries increased the strangeness, the unearthliness of their situation;

and before them all, still and motionless, careless of mosquitoes, or of

any other disturbance, the young woodsman sat beside the bed of his dead

wife, which was hung over with a thin mosquito curtain.

Silently he stared into the now bright flaming fire in the chimney, and

his left hand all the night through clasped the hand of the corpse. The

elder Siebert, it is true, once tried to approach him and to offer

consolation, but the unhappy man merely made a sign to him to leave him

alone, and stared uninterruptedly into the fire on the hearth. He was

beside his wife, and seemed not to remark the presence of the many

strangers.

Pastor Hehrmann, seated at the head of the bed where the corpse lay, had

collected his family around him, and had spread his large, wide cloak

over them, to defend them as well from the annoying insects as from the

single drops of rain which penetrated. But, comforting all in their

unpleasant position, he concluded a simple but touching prayer, which he

spoke aloud, with the words, "May the Almighty make our departure as

glad and as happy as our arrival is inauspicious and melancholy."

A loud hearty 'Amen' from every lip replied to this, and then deep

silence reigned throughout the house of affliction.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Fences, in America, are formed of poles of wood, split lengthwise,

which ordinarily surround the fields in a zig-zag form, and are intended

to preserve the grain from the cattle, which run about freely. In the

West, where there is wood in abundance, this arrangement is universal;

but in the East, and particularly in the vicinity of towns, they are

beginning to raise quickset hedges, or at least to apply the wood in the

most economical way, so as to make as little wood as possible surround a

great space.--_Note by the Author._

Many old countrymen, upon their first arrival in America, are disgusted

with the rail fences, and talk about the quickset hedges which they will

have upon their land; but it all ends in talk. Wood is adopted for

fences in America, as well because of its abundance as because the white

and black thorns, used in quickset hedges in England, although they

grow, yet do not generally thrive there; besides, the planting, filling

up gaps, pruning, ditching, &c., requires much labour, and that is

expensive there. Cattle, also, are so used to the bush, that they would

make no difficulty of walking through a quickset hedge, unless it were

many years old, and well made. Every man can swing the axe there, and

most of their woods grow tall in the stem, without knots or branches,

for fifty feet or so, and split readily, sometimes even without the

wedge. They therefore cut trees, such as ash, oak, elm, birch, and (for

the lower rails, to resist the effects of wet) cedar, into twelve or

sixteen feet lengths, and then split them, either with the axe alone, or

with the assistance of a mall and wedges, into rails of a convenient

thickness. These are laid upon the surface of the ground in zig-zag, as

mentioned by the author, each overlapping the other by six inches or so,

and so on to the height of from six to twelve feet, and, in well-made

fences, stakes are also driven firmly into the ground, near the places

where the rails meet, one inside and one outside of the fence, at an

inclination towards it, their points meeting and crossing each other at

the junction of the top rails, and forming, by such crossing, a

receptacle for a heavy rail or rider, as it is called, which tops it

all, and serves to give the whole stability; thus all nails and

iron-work, which are expensive, or wooden pegs, which would require

labour, are dispensed with, and a fence is obtained, having nearly the

strength of a brick wall, and capable of restraining cattle. Fences

without stakes and riders are also used, especially for temporary

purposes, supporting themselves by the zig-zag ground-plan and their own

weight, but are liable to be invaded by a breachy ox, and are also more

liable to be put out of their position. An ox is, in America, termed

"breachy" when he has learned to lift the rails off with his horns,

which he does by the ends one after another, like any Christian, until

it is low enough for him to step over; but if properly staked and

ridered he cannot do so. Such oxen are not very common, but never can be

cured of the habit, and however well they may work in the yoke, have to

be fattened and killed forthwith. When the two or three lower rails, and

also the stakes, are of wood, capable of resisting the effect of damp,

such as cedar, black ash, &c., a well-made fence will last for an

indefinite number of years, but otherwise seven or eight years suffice

to rot the lower rails, and to make constant patching necessary, which

is almost as bad as making a new fence, for, to get at one of the lower

rails, the fence has to be taken down for many lengths on each side, and

never can be relaid so well. In the Canadas, and the Northwestern states

of the Union, the ground, during winter, is covered with snow, for a

distance of ten degrees and more south of corresponding latitudes in the

Old World, and this is the season when the timber is easily got out of

the bush, or of the swamps, into the clearings, either on low sleighs,

or by being snagged--that is, dragged out by oxen and a logging

chain.--TR.

[6] It is not customary for shoemakers in Germany to keep a large stock

of shoes; those in the text, of course, were not all made by the seller,

but probably in New England, where there are whole towns where nothing

else is done. The wooden pegs would surprise an English shoemaker as

much as they did the German.--TR.

[7] A brass bason is the German barber's sign--TR.

[8] Munich is celebrated throughout Germany for the goodness of its

beer.--TR.