THE MIGRATION.
We must now pass over a period of nearly a year, and I will merely
relate, in few words, what took place in the settlement and its
neighbourhood in the interim.
The sheriff, accompanied by two constables, had taken away Dr. Normann
to the county town, but the settlers found themselves, in consequence,
involved in infinite trouble, for almost every one of those who had
taken part in the pursuit and capture of that scoundrel was summoned to
give evidence upon oath, before the court; even Bertha and Louisa had to
go there, and Wolfgang subsequently often expressed his opinion that it
would have been better to have allowed him to pursue the course which he
had wished to take, and then there would have been no occasion for all
this trouble; Pastor Hehrmann, on the other hand, declared that he
willingly submitted to it all, for that his conscience could not now
accuse him of shedding, or of being party to the shedding of human
blood.
Dr. Normann, or Wæhler, as his name was discovered to be at the trial,
was found guilty by the jury, and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment
in the House of Correction; it is true, that he subsequently appealed to
the court of the United States, but without obtaining a more favourable
result, and in the early part of the following year, he was delivered
over in irons to the penitentiary of the state.
But how did it fare with the settlers, now that they had arrived in the
foreign, but much-wished-for country? Alas, ill enough! At first,
Helldorf and Schwarz had taken the greatest pains to induce them to
migrate to a healthier district, and that without further loss of time,
but the good folks would only profit by experience, and would first pass
through every successive stage of expectation deceived and hope
destroyed; without which practical lessons, Germans seldom follow
advice. As Helldorf and Schwarz, therefore, soon discovered that further
persuasion was not merely useless, but would even tend to confirm the
obstinate people in their stupid resolution, they gave up preaching of
colours to the blind, who could not see or comprehend them. Werner, on
the other hand, brought into nearer contact with the Hehrmanns, and
emboldened by his adventures and good fortune, sued for the little hand
of the dear, blushing Bertha, and the parents gave their cheerful and
willing assent, on condition that he should settle among them, and, like
themselves, become a farmer. Mindful, however, of the warnings of his
friends, and unwilling, besides, to cultivate a spot where the
inexperienced Germans had been banished by the fraud of a
fellow-countryman, he begged them to grant him a year's delay till he
should have founded a little home for himself, when he would fetch bride
and parents together, and would, with willing heart, work hard, in order
to have all the dear ones beside him.
Pastor Hehrmann, at that time, it is true, shook his head, and replied
very gravely, that he had, once for all, given his word to the
association, faithfully to stay beside them so long as they required
him, and he should be the last to go from so important and self-imposed
a duty. Helldorf, however, gave his opinion, with a laugh, that if there
were nothing else to detain him beside that, Pastor Hehrmann would, no
doubt, be a free and independent man, in the following year, and would
willingly accompany his son-in-law to a healthier climate, and
pleasanter neighbourhood; he, moreover, would warrant, that within a
year, Werner should have made a beginning on a sufficient little
property; and he longed not a little himself for the time when he should
become a neighbour of the families of Hehrmann and Werner.
Accordingly, matters remained thus for the present; Werner, after a stay
of about three weeks, cleared out,--accompanied by Schwarz and Helldorf,
and even by Wolfgang, the latter of whom, however, only intended to view
the country, and to return to the Mississippi, for the present,--across
to the southern part of Missouri, and there the three settled themselves
on the woody banks of the Big Black River.
They had worked and toiled there during three months or so, and with the
little capital which they possessed, and warned by the experience of
Helldorf and Schwarz, they had really performed wonders, when one day,
Werner got hold of that sealed letter of introduction, which was
directed to a distant relative of his own, settled but a few miles from
where they were living. Werner would hitherto, on no account, seek him
out, but now that his own circumstances looked rather more prosperous,
the wish occurred to him to make the acquaintance of the old man, of
whom his uncle had formerly often spoken to him.
Dr. Wisslock resided, although he had but little intercourse with the
neighbourhood, on the high road leading from St. Louis to Arkansas, and
was reputed, as Werner had learnt from some of his neighbours, not only
to be the possessor of a very considerable farm, and much property, but
also, although very eccentric, to be a very good-hearted man.
It was a Sunday, when Werner determined to look him up, and with the
letter in his pocket, he reached, just before dinner-time, the neat and
well-kept fence of the fields of Indian corn, between which, a straight,
broad road led to the homestead. Werner followed this, and arrived
before the house, threw his horse's bridle over a rack erected there
for the purpose, and after tapping twice at the door without receiving
an answer, stepped into the house, and from thence walked into a room,
the door of which stood ajar. Here he found himself at once in the
presence of his relative, Dr. Wisslock, introduced himself briefly and
pithily, and handed him the letter.
"Hem!" said the old man, when he had hastily skimmed through it--"hem?
What has the young gentleman learnt, that he comes dropping, as from the
clouds into the back woods in this way?--educated at a university--eh?"
Werner answered affirmatively.
"And now, all at once, wants to become a farmer?"
"A farmer's life has been described to me," replied the other, "by
several friends, as most suitable for a German."
"Oh, ah! Yes, I dare say!" growled Dr. Wisslock, nodding his head,
significantly; "I dare say, picturesque landscape--hanging woods and
rocks--creepers and wild vines--bleating herds, and bear's flesh--the
usual dream. You'll find out your mistake."
"I scarcely think so," said Werner, smiling; "what I have hitherto seen
of the country, pleases me much."
"You'll think differently when you come to handle the axe and the
plough," grumbled the old fellow, by no means more agreeably disposed by
this reply. "Here, in the woods, there is no getting on without work,
nor without right-down hard work either; we can't buy little niggers and
blackamoors, directly. Do you intend to settle?"
"It's already done," replied Werner, rather shortly, for the reception
of the old man began to displease him.
"Already done?" he asked, surprised, as he stopped a pinch of snuff
midway to his nose. "Already done! why, how long has the young gentleman
been in America, then?" and he opened the letter again, and looked at
its date.
"Almost a year, and for the last half-year I have been your neighbour,
though rather a distant one."
"Oh, the deuce!" exclaimed the old man, and a peculiar kind of movement
played round the corners of his mouth, "the deuce! Then you're perhaps
actually one of the three young Germans who have made such a good start
on the Black River?"
Werner nodded his head silently.
"Very glad to make your acquaintance," continued the old man, becoming
very friendly, and even hearty all at once,--"have heard nothing but
good report of all of you, and was shortly coming to see you. But be
seated, I beg, be seated. So you've carried the introduction about in
your pocket for half a year! Hem! why didn't you come to me at once?
"I had brought introductions to New York and Philadelphia," replied
Werner, "and seeing their result, or rather finding that they had no
result, and, as I now feel well enough, could have had none, I laid by
the rest of the letters in my box, and indeed shouldn't have delivered
this had it not been sealed, and had I not wished besides to make your
acquaintance."
"Hem--hem!" interjected the old man, and one could read in his looks how
pleased he was with the firm, manly behaviour of the young
man--"hem--hem! very reasonable that--must dine with me
first--afterwards I'll take a ride over with you to the Black River--can
sleep there, I suppose--eh? Should like to see your housekeeping
there--hem--hem!--three bachelors--eh? Heaven have mercy upon us!--there
is but one here, and even with him things are bad enough."
The old man chatted away for a long time in his peculiar, but
good-tempered style, and actually trotted over to the "Three Mens'
Farm," (as it was called in the vicinity, from the three proprietors,)
that same evening.
But Dr. Wisslock was not the man to let the matter drop there. If Werner
had brought the letter to him at first, and so, if not directly, still
to a certain extent indirectly, challenged him to assist him, he might
perhaps have met him with the usual American saying, "Help thyself!" But
here was quite a different case--the young man did not want him; he had
proved that he did not want him, and was only come there to make his
acquaintance--that sounded quite differently. Besides, Werner knew
nothing of a clause which was appended to the letter, and which his old
uncle had _not_ read to him with the rest.
The Doctor, as he was briefly styled in all the country round, now took
a very particular interest in the plans of the three young people, whom
he liked more and more upon further acquaintance. He inquired about one
thing and the other, and made himself intimately acquainted with all,
and not only helped them with excellent advice, but also subsequently,
cheerfully, and with good will, by act and deed. Meanwhile, he had
ascertained all the particulars, as well concerning the joint-stock
settlement, as of Werner's love, and the worthy family of the Hehrmanns.
But from that moment forward, he urged and urged Werner to go across and
fetch the Hehrmanns out of the swamps, and put them in train to become
acquainted with the _real_ life in the west, that they might not in
those poisonous swamps imbibe a distaste for the noble woods. But Werner
knew but too well that Hehrmann would never desert the settlement so
long as the colony had existence, however few the members might be of
which it might consist.
Besides, he had firmly resolved not to return to the Halchee until he
should be in a position to earn his livelihood, and subsist
independently; such was, however, not yet the case, and full six months
more elapsed before he had erected a little dwelling on his own land,
and had procured all kinds of necessary implements. But when that was
done the old man left him no more peace, and he and Helldorf, who
volunteered as his companion, set out one fresh sunny morning in Autumn,
after nearly a year's absence, to visit his sweetheart, and, with the
parents' blessing, to fetch her home to his quiet cheerful house.
Mounted on hardy ponies, the two friends trotted freshly and merrily
along through the autumnal forest canopy, and although the wondrous
splendour of colour of the foliage, and the thousand various tints of
the fading leaves, now and then riveted their eyes, distracting the gaze
to and fro, and although they could hardly sufficiently admire the
constantly fresh beauties which were presenting themselves, still they
did not, on that account, stay the course of their horses, and after a
difficult ride through the Mississippi swamps, which, although then dry,
were yet overgrown with rank vegetation, reached the broad stream, took
advantage of a ferry kept up near the southern boundary of Kentucky, to
be set across, and now kept along the eastern shore, and at the foot of
the hills as far as Jackson, in order to avoid the low land, and not to
be further detained by the difficulties of the ground.
It was not until the fourth day that they entered upon the narrow bridle
path which the settlers, under Wolfgang's guidance, had in former times
marked out to the little town, by cutting blazes, or large pieces of
bark from the trees standing on this line. But the road, even when they
came quite into the vicinity of the settlement, seemed not to have been
used for a long time past; the blazes were grown over, and the yellow
leaves of Autumn covered, undisturbed, the slightest trace even of a
path. Helldorf smiled quietly to himself, and after they had ridden
silently for some time, merely observed--
"The young colony seems to keep itself pretty independent; at all
events, it does not seem to keep up much intercourse with the interior
of the country."
"Helldorf," said Werner, giving, at the same time, his own beast the
spurs, and pushing on beside his friend as a somewhat more open space
allowed of their riding abreast; "Helldorf, it seems to me as though the
young colony stood in no further connexion at all. I see no cattle
anywhere, nor, indeed, any traces of any having ever pastured here; no
axe is to be heard, no--but, hold!--what was that? That sounded like
one, at least; then, after all, I may have been mistaken."
The men halted for a moment to listen, and then heard distinctly enough
the distant, regular strokes of an axe. The sound came from the quarter
where the settlement lay, and as they now knew that they were near their
destination, they cantered cheerfully along through thorn and thicket,
no longer following the blazed trees, but the guidance of their own
hearing, into the woods.
"It still looks rather rural round the _town of Hoffnung_," said
Helldorf, as he was obliged to leap his nag over a great tree stem which
lay crosswise in his way. Werner made no reply, but raised himself in
the stirrups, and tried to get a view of the clearing, which began to be
discernible through the lighter bush.
But, good Heaven! how deserted, how forsaken, did that place look! Where
was the bustle and activity of a cheerful, industrious band of settlers,
who must be intent on carrying the stores of harvest to meet the
approaching winter? Where was the realization of those hopes which so
many had nursed and revelled in, whereby a glad provision was to be made
for them, and their children after them? Alas, they had all passed
away!--those plans and fancies, those bold castles in the air, those
notions of public spirit and friendship. Discord and ill will had sown
their seeds even in that secluded colony of the Mississippi swamp, or
rather the seed which had been long sown had sprung up, and ripened its
evil crop, and those expectations which had filled the hearts of the
better sort with cheerful confidence, and for which they had quitted
their native land and everything dear, had there dissolved away into an
evil, painful dream, and yonder stood the ruins, cold and bleak, staring
towards Heaven, as though they would testify to the hateful, evil
disposition of mankind.
"Good Heaven! what has happened here?" said Werner, as he drew in his
horse's reins in alarm--"where are all the people gone who formerly
animated this place?"
"Why, where should they be?" said Helldorf, shrugging his shoulders;
"dispersed in all quarters, as I foretold you. That does not surprise me
much; but that Pastor Hehrmann should not have let us know a word of his
having left the place--that does seem extraordinary."
"There's some one back yonder, chopping," said Werner; "his back is
towards us; now he turns this way. By all that's holy, _that's_
Hehrmann!--may I never see paradise if I did not recognise the face! But
how pale he looks!"
"Hehrmann, and alone here!" replied Helldorf, thoughtfully. "Well, we
will leave the horses behind awhile, for they won't be able to make
their way through this wild chaos of young shoots and old stumps; we can
then soon convince ourselves whether you are right. I hope, at least,
that it may be so; but let us advance--this uncertainty is dreadful."
The man, who had hitherto been chopping at a long stem, now lifted, with
evident difficulty, a heavy log which he had cut off, on to his
shoulder, and stepped with it towards the house; there, outside the
door, he put it down, and a young lad, who came running from another
corner of the clearing, helped him to carry in the load.
Helldorf and Werner hurried forward without exchanging another word, and
in a few minutes were in front of the door, which was opened from
within.
Hehrmann, who, with the assistance of Charles, the former glazier's
apprentice, had just placed the heavy back-log on the fire, stood with
his back towards them, but on his wife and daughters uttering a cry of
surprise, on seeing those who had approached, he turned quickly round
towards the door, and that with no presentiment of any good. But who
shall describe his joyful astonishment, when he recognised the dear and
long-wished for forms of those worthy men, for whose friendly voices he
had so often longed? Who can paint his feelings when he grasped Werner
and Helldorf's hands, and with a hearty, although certainly rather
tremulous voice, bade them a joyful, sincere "Welcome?"
And what said Bertha to this meeting? Oh, my dear reader, thou art not
to know everything; thou must rest satisfied with being told that Werner
had been a full hour in the house, and since he was first welcomed by
Bertha, and yet, as if in absence of mind, kept her little hand lying
warmly and firmly in his. Hast thou ever thus held a being that was
dear--very dear to thee? Then thou knowest what it means, and if thou
hast _not_--then, poor reader, then, any explanations or description
which I might give would not assist thee.
But how poor Werner's heart bled, when he learnt, as he now by degrees
did, the whole story of the sufferings of the young colony. The
prophecies with which those who meant them well had warned them, had
been but too soon fulfilled. Quarrels and discord broke out first when
the people discovered that they could not, as they had actually
supposed, become rich and independent in half a year, and the majority
would no longer work, as they declared that they had no occasion to
labour so hard for their own livelihood, and that they were not disposed
to toil for others of the "Gentry."
Becher had then, first of all, withdrawn himself from the affair, and
given up what he termed a hopeless business; Siebert, junior, had
followed him, and immediately afterwards the elder one had also
disappeared, and that, as Hehrmann, Herbold, and Von Schwanthal could
not conceal from the rest of the settlers, with a pretty considerable
portion of the common funds. Pastor Hehrmann had then had great
sacrifices to make, and gave up the greater part of his already much
diminished property to pacify those who made the loudest complaints, and
to stave off the ruin of all his hopes, which else would have taken
place at once. But what hurt him more than all was the ungrateful
conduct of those whom he had most obliged, whom he had most actively
supported. People who, without means of their own, had been hitherto
supported from the common stock of the society, showed themselves the
most discontented; the most embittered quarrels and disputes followed
the distaste for work, and although the better men among them, and
Hehrmann as the foremost of these, gave way, and again and again
endeavoured to restore a good understanding--although representations
and even prayers were wasted upon the disturbers, it was in vain. "We
are all equal here," was the eternal answer; "and if I'm to toil and
moil here, I should like to know what for," said the stupid fellows, who
either could not, or would not see, that by such bad faith they not only
destroyed the society, but also brought the greatest evils upon
themselves, as they now went off without knowing the language, without
money, and without friends, into a strange country, and had to toil and
plague themselves for yet stranger people, and that, perhaps, for six or
seven dollars a month, and without receiving either thanks or a friendly
word in return. Von Schwanthal had left later, in order to see Arkansas;
for an American, who had passed through, had told him so much of the
shooting in Arkansas, that he could no longer resist the newly awakened
and mighty love of hunting any longer. He embarked himself and his
baggage, after having formally taken leave of the colony, for Little
Rock, and intended, as he had told Pastor Hehrmann at parting, to lead a
regular hunter's life in the new state.
Becher had gone to New Orleans, and the rest gradually dispersed to all
quarters of the compass. Hehrmann saw them, one after another, take
their leave, or even forsake the place without leave-taking; but when he
was left almost alone, and wished himself to seek a better, healthier
home, when his last friend had disappeared with Wolfgang, who had
cleared out for Missouri as late as seven months since, he found, to his
alarm, that he no longer possessed the means. He had given away
everything--sacrificed all, in order that he might not see his favourite
plan, the union of Germans in, a fraternal society, founder. He had,
when they learnt from Buffalo that the things left behind there were
gone, and could not be traced, and the landlord pretended to know
nothing about anything of the kind--when subsequently link after link
of the chain fell away, when those forsook him on whom he had calculated
most--even when ridicule or contemptuous laughter met his ear, he had
never hesitated. "We are melted down to a few," he used to say to those
few, "but we can yet prove that people who religiously are in earnest in
the good cause, can carry it through in spite of the greatest
difficulties."
But he soon discovered that those who continued with him were, for the
most part, merely compelled to do so, because they did not possess a
single dollar wherewith to pay their passage anywhere else, and gladly
seized upon the first opportunity which offered, without troubling
themselves much as to what became of Pastor Hehrmann and his family,
whom they left alone in the swamps.
One only continued with them honestly and faithfully--one only never
forgot how well, how kindly he had been taken by the hand by this
family, when he himself stood alone and friendless. This was Charles,
the former glazier's apprentice, and richly did he requite all the
benefits he had received, especially during the past summer, when Pastor
Hehrmann, himself, was confined to his bed for weeks, by fever. Oh, how
often, how ardently had they longed for Werner to come back--that he
might keep his word, and seek them again in their now disconsolate
solitude! Alas! the mother had already begun to doubt, and had said--
"You'll see, my child; he has acted like the rest of them; he has gone
off, far, far away, and no longer thinks of those, formerly his so dear
friends, whom he has left behind."
"Or, perhaps, lies ill and helpless himself among strangers," worthy
Hehrmann would then usually interrupt her, for still he never could make
up his mind to think ill of any one, unless, as, alas! had latterly
often been the case, he was compelled to do so, against his will. Bertha
would on such occasions stealthily press her father's hand, and wipe a
tear from her eye, for still she did not doubt her lover's word; but the
idea that he might be ill and suffering, might stand in need of her
help, that alone it was which pained her, and which, however much she
might strive against it, oppressed her with melancholy.
Louisa, too, who had, by this time, grown up to full, blooming
womanhood, had latterly become strikingly sad and melancholy, and had
even, when the conversation turned upon Werner and his friends, several
times left the room, and afterwards returned, with eyes dimmed and red
with crying.
Such was the posture of affairs at the "Hoffnung," or "Hope," as they
had (with so little presentiment of the result) named the town, which,
indeed, was destined to remain a hope, merely. But Werner and Helldorf
now sat down beside Hehrmann, who in this one year seemed to have added
ten to his age, and spoke to him of courage and comfort.
"You cannot stay here any longer," said Helldorf, at last. "Wolfgang,
too, has particularly commissioned us to bring you away, at all events.
We have capital land, in Missouri, and although not adequately
furnished, still have such conveniences as a farmer in the woods needs.
A farm lies ready for you: you can begin to work, and till it, at once;
cattle there are also; so that with what yet remains here----"
"Oh, my good Mr. Helldorf!" said Hehrmann, shrugging his shoulders, "it
would certainly be difficult to begin with what remains here. Not a
single head remains--not even a single horse, to perform the most
needful work. The people have left me nothing, and what cows and pigs we
had, were all eaten half-a-year ago. I would gladly have bought a cow
again, in order to have milk for my family, at least--but, in the first
place, I could not spare time to leave the farm so long, and then I
doubted whether the price might not be beyond my means. Our ready money
has, perhaps through our own fault, very much dwindled down."
"Hem!" said Helldorf, reflectively, not wishing to let it be seen how
much all that he heard pained him; "hem--then matters are indeed come to
extremity. But, my dear Mr. Hehrmann, don't let that trouble you; you
have purchased experience dearly, it is true, but yet, perhaps, not too
dearly; you are all still healthy, you know; consider how it fared with
poor Wolfgang. No; from henceforward, I trust a better life is in store
for you. You will come with us--won't you?"
"Gladly, to a healthier climate," replied he. "I have done all that God
or man can require of me, and now I owe it to my family to lead them
hence; in order to do so, I certainly stand much in need of your help,
but, if I keep my health, be assured that you will not have obliged one
who will be ungrateful."
"Enough, enough!" said Helldorf, smiling; "who knows how soon we may not
hold you to your word."
"But what is to become of Charles?" asked Madame Hehrmann--"we cannot
leave the poor boy here all alone."
"No, certainly not," said Werner; "he shall go with us, and if he has a
liking for farming, shall found a home for himself; so far as it is in
our power to help him, he may rely upon us. That he has kept with you so
honestly and faithfully deserves not only our warmest thanks, but also
some return, and he shall never find us behindhand."
The preparations for removal were soon made; the little which the
settlers had left Pastor Hehrmann, and which was really worth carriage,
such as the clothes and linen of the family (of which, however, very
much had been carried off) was got together. But the little
family-council, which was called for the purpose, really did not know
how that little was to be transported as far as the Mississippi, as the
horses could not possibly carry all, and the road was too long to make
more than one journey. At this juncture, Helldorf made a suggestion
which was immediately accepted, and quickly put into execution--namely,
to form a light raft on the then swollen Halchee, to cover it with the
boards which roofed the house, and upon this to float down their whole
stock. They had no occasion to chop trees for this purpose, but took a
small log-hut rudely erected for storing Indian corn, but which, as no
Indian corn had been yet raised, had never been used, carried the short
and not very heavy stems to the rivulet, tied them together with such
ropes as yet remained, and soon found that the new construction answered
its purpose admirably.
The things were then made fast upon it, and Helldorf and Charles
undertook to steer it down stream. Werner and Hehrmann were to lead the
little caravan towards the Mississippi, for which the two saddles were
by ingenious contrivances turned into side saddles. One of these was
occupied by Madame Hehrmann, and Bertha and Louisa occupied the other by
turns.
Helldorf had wished, at first, to take the women with him upon the raft,
upon which they certainly might have performed the journey very
smoothly. And the otherwise so bashful Louisa had been quite ready to
throw aside all fear, and to confide herself to the care of the new
captain of the raft, as he called himself in joke; but Madame Hehrmann
feared to trust herself to so fragile a conveyance, and the land journey
consequently received the preference.
They reached the stream without any accident, and were there compelled
to avail themselves of Wolfgang's almost ruinous hut, to avoid an
approaching storm, and to await the arrival of a steamer, going up
stream. Fortunately, the latter happened first. It was the Marmion, a
dreadfully slow boat, which crept along the shore like a snail, but, on
that very account, landed anywhere whenever a signal was made to take in
passengers or goods. She was bound for Cincinnati, and they availed
themselves of her as far as Benton, in Missouri, landed there, hired a
large carrier's wagon, to the teamster of which they entrusted their
whole luggage, bought some more horses, and then prosecuted their
journey quickly, and without further hindrance.
They thus reached a spot, within about a mile of their future abode,
where speculative heads had, in earlier times, planned a town which did
not answer, and was abandoned. An old Yankee lived by himself upon the
spot, and had planted the clearing, destined for public buildings, with
Indian corn.
Here, to Werner's astonishment, Dr. Wisslock came to meet them, saluted
the company very politely, and then, as opportunity occurred, appeared
to have much and important business to discuss with Helldorf. The latter
had not left Louisa's side during the whole ride from Benton, and must
have had a great many very interesting things to tell her, for the two
had often, out of mere absence of mind, lagged several hundred yards in
the rear, and could only be brought up with the main body by repeated
shouts and signals.
Werner could not imagine what, in the name of wonder, could have induced
Dr. Wisslock to ride thus far to meet them, and then to carry on this
conversation aside, which surely could have very well kept till the end
of their journey. But he did not remain long in the dark as to the
object of this mysterious conduct, for Helldorf suddenly advanced toward
the Hehrmann family, who were encamped under a wide spreading hickory,
and proposed--Werner's astonishment may be conceived--formally for
Louisa's hand!
"And in order that you, dear father," he turned to him, "may no longer
stand alone in the world--in order that you may not be forsaken by your
_children_ also, as others have forsaken you, come and live with me, on
my farm, and we will conduct our farming together, so that it shall be a
pleasure to us both, and so that you may look forward with courage and
confidence to an old age, cheerful and free from care."
"I protest against that," exclaimed Werner, without leaving any one else
time to speak. "I have priority--you come with me and Bertha; or, if you
won't do that--at least, live alternately with each, so that each of
your children may enjoy your society."
"Hallo there, young gentleman!" said Dr. Wisslock, who had by this time
approached, and taken hold of Werner's arm. "First of all, that young
lady yonder, who has suddenly turned so red, has got a word to say, and
then we two have also a crow to pick together."
"We two?" said Werner, astonished.
"Yes, we two," continued the old man, without losing his gravity, whilst
Louisa, as if dyed in crimson, hid her blushing face in her mother's
bosom, and at last, when Helldorf again and again pressed her, merely
reached him her little hand without looking at him or changing her
posture.
"But, my dear doctor, what, in the first place, have you to say to me?"
"That I'll explain directly to the young gentleman. Does he suppose that
he brings me a letter, in which my cousin--but that would be a secondary
matter--no, the best friend of my youth--charges me, by all that I hold
dear, to care for him as for a son!"
"But, my good----"
"Hear me out!--to care for him as for a son, I say. Does the young
gentleman suppose that I have so quickly forgotten all that I owe his
old uncle? and that is all I possess. No, indeed! In order, however,
that I may, in discharging a portion of my obligation, yet derive a
benefit from it, I have planned the thing in this way:--The young
gentleman marries Pastor Hehrmann's elder daughter, and goes to live on
my farm, which he----"
"Doctor----"
"Hear me out, I say!--which he uses and works as though it were his own.
But the old doctor, with whom ploughing and chopping have not exactly
agreed for the last two years, must be fed and nursed until his end, in
return for which he engages besides to find the young gentleman and his
family in medicine and medical attendance during any illnesses which may
occur--_without_ the use of calomel--and gratis. When I happen to die,
of course he inherits what I have scraped together here; but it is to be
hoped that he will have quite enough to do with me, and can very well
afford to leave his wife's parents to their other son, whom, by-the-bye,
he may always take as a pattern for himself. So now the young gentleman
may speak--is he content?"
"Dear doctor--your goodness--you--you heap benefits upon me which--I
really don't know--Bertha----"
"Well, of course, that's understood," the doctor quickly interrupted
him; "you must first ask your bride whether she will undertake the
arduous office of sick nurse to an old man like me--she of course has
the principal voice in the matter, for hers will be the greatest burthen
and trouble. Well, miss," he said, turning with gravity to the charming
girl, "Do you say 'Yes' or 'No,' to the bargain?"
Bertha, with agitated feelings, seized the old man's hand, and assured
him, that she would always be a good, faithful daughter to him. This so
pleased the doctor, that he first looked kindly and fixedly in her
bright eyes, and then, all at once, without further warning, took hold
of her head, and gave her a hearty kiss.
Is there any need of further description of these happy people?
Hardly--Love and Friendship made to them their rude home in the woods a
paradise, and the old doctor, who had been already vegetating there for
many long years past, forsaken and alone, completely revived, in the
midst of them, to a new and almost-forgotten existence.
What became of the other settlers remained for the most part unknown.
Von Schwanthal had gone to Arkansas, as already mentioned; the elder
Siebert was subsequently met by Becher in New Orleans, but he was not
destined long to enjoy the fruits of his breach of trust; he died of
yellow fever, and was robbed, by a mulatto woman, who had waited on him
during his brief sickness, of everything which he called his, and, by
reason of total absence of funds, was earthed away with a thousand
others whom "Yellow Jack" had swept off about the same time, in the
Potter's field, in a wet, swampy soil. The brewer made his way to
Cincinnati, and was quite hearty, when the shoemaker subsequently met
him there; Herbold, too, started a distillery, somewhere in Ohio state,
and Schmidt was, after a lapse of some years, reported to have been seen
in Illinois. The poor tailor fared, perhaps, the most strangely; he was
very lucky at first, went to Little Rock, got work there, and earned so
much money that he was enabled to begin business on his own account, in
a small way; but then bad times came, money got scarce, and saving had
to be practised, to which rule of conduct, Meier, who, by this time, had
begun to play the dandy a little, would, on no account, conform. The
natural consequence did not fail to ensue: he got into debt, and
accepted an offer of marriage from a rather elderly lady, on condition
that she should pay his debts; this was done, and Meier was now to
become a happy husband. But not wishing to carry the joke to that
length, he endeavoured to escape southward, on a steamer which happened
to be there at the time, but was discovered, and, on that very day,
united in the holy bands of matrimony to his forgiving bride.
Next year, they learnt that Dr. Normann, or Wæhler--perhaps even that
was not his real name--had been transferred to the Penitentiary of the
State; but of Turner, no further trace was ever found, save that Pastor
Hehrmann affirmed at a subsequent period that he had seen him at St.
Louis, whither he had gone on business; he had too quickly disappeared
again, however, for the former to make himself certain of the fact. Nor
did any one know the name there.
But what cared the happy ones about these scoundrels? They left them to
their own shame and dishonour, and to the contempt of all good and
honest men; whilst they themselves toiled and laboured on, in their
allotted, although narrow sphere of life, according to the best of
their ability, and the "Three Men's Farm," as the settlement still
continued to be called--when Schwarz, too, afterwards sought unto
himself, from among the daughters of the land, a dear little wife--was
soon reputed to be one of the best in the United States.
THE END.
T. C. Savill, Printer, 4, Chandos-street, Covent-garden.