When Braesig had told Hawermann and Mrs. Behrens all the news he had
picked up at Rexow and Guerlitz, and had answered all their questions,
he rose to go away again: "Don't be angry with me, Mrs. Behrens, or you
either, Charles, but you see I must go to the club as soon as I have
put on another pair of boots. You should come with me, Charles. We're
going to choose a new president this evening, for the old one, as he
himself confesses, is quite lost amongst us, I'm going to vote for
lawyer Rein.--Do you know him? He's a nice fellow, and a man of the
world; besides that I must say he's a bit of a wag. Then we have to
decide a very important question--rector Baldrian says that it has a
strong connection with the spirit of the times--I mean that we want to
discover the cause of the large amount of poverty there is in the
world. You should come with me, Charles." But Hawermann was not to be
persuaded, so Braesig went alone.
The first person Braesig recognised on entering the hall of meeting
was--Samuel Pomuchelskopp, who hurried forward to greet him, saying:
"How d'ye do, brother! How are you, Zachariah?" Only a few people saw
the expression of Braesig's face when the squire of Guerlitz thus
addressed him, and of those who saw, hardly anyone understood the
meaning of what he had seen; but Bank the shoemaker told me about it:
"Fritz," he said, "his face looked for all the world as if it had been
reflected in a shoemaker's-ball. His mouth was as large again as it is
by nature, his nose was twice as thick as usual and his face was
glowing like a furnace. Can't you imagine what he looked like when he
answered: 'Mr. Samuel Pomuchelskopp we are not on sufficiently intimate
terms for you to address me so familiarly.' Well, he looked exactly
like the picture of old Hofer, landlord of the Sands in the Tyrol,
which is hanging on the coffee room wall of Fuchs' inn at Ivenack,
except that he hadn't a musket in his hand. Then he turned his back
upon Mr. Pomuchelskopp, and what a back! went to the election table and
gave his vote in a loud clear voice that could be heard all over the
hall, saying: 'I vote for Mr. Rein (pure) for our cause and actions
must be pure, and if a scoundrel should chance to come in amongst us,
he must be turned out' No one understood what he referred to, but there
was a dead silence, for everyone knew that something had happened. When
he went back to his seat everyone made way for him, because he looked
like a bull ready to toss whoever opposed him, but he sat down quietly
in his place, and every member of the club knows all that went on
afterwards."--That was what Jack Bank told me, and I believe that he
told the truth, for he was a great friend of mine and an honourable man
although he was only a shoemaker. He was murdered by a ruffian while
still a comparatively young man when he was standing up for the right.
I mention this fact although it has nothing to do with my story,
because he was my friend, and because I don't wish his virtues to be
known only from the epitaph on his grave stone.
So Zachariah Braesig seated himself in an out of the way corner of the
hall looking like a thunder storm that might burst at any moment. Mr.
Rein was elected president, so he rang the bell, crept into the vat or
pulpit, thanked the members of the club for having done him the honour
of electing him as their president and then added: "Gentlemen, before
we enter on the question of the evening regarding the origin of
poverty, allow me to mention that Mr. Pomuchelskopp of Guerlitz has
applied for admission as member of this Reform club. I believe that no
one has any reason to oppose his being admitted as one of us."--"Ah,"
cried a voice behind him sharply, "are you so sure of that? I beg to be
allowed to speak," and when the new president turned round he saw uncle
Braesig standing beside the pulpit. "Let Mr. Bailiff Braesig say what he
has to say," answered the president, so uncle Braesig clambered into the
pulpit and began: "Fellow-citizens, how long is it since we swore to
maintain liberty, equality, and fraternity in this hall, which used to
be Grammelin's dancing saloon? I will say nothing just now about
liberty, although I have no room to move in this confounded barrel; of
equality I will also say nothing, for our new president shows us a good
example in that respect by always wearing a grey coat, instead of going
about in a blue surtout with brass buttons like some people; but it is
of fraternity that I am going to speak. Fellow-citizens, let me ask if
it is brotherly conduct for a man to threaten to have his neighbour's
boots pulled off, and to leave his fellow man to hop home barefoot
through the snow, and if there should be no snow, through the mud? Is
it brotherly to be proud of saying such things? and of making a fool of
another? I ask you if that is brotherly conduct? and I tell you that
Mr. Samuel Pomuchelskopp is a brother after that fashion. I will say no
more." He descended the pulpit and blew a long trumpet blast of
defiance upon his nose. Wimmersdorf the tailor was the next to speak,
he said that it was a great honour to the Rahnstaedt Reform club that it
was now to number a large landowner amongst its members; as far as he
knew Mr. Pomuchelskopp was the only squire in their ranks, for Mr. von
Zanzel was not to be counted although he had an estate and was a member
of the club, as he neither bought anything in Rahnstaedt nor had
anything made there. He therefore voted for Mr. Pomuchelskopp's
admission. "Bravo!" was shouted by many voices. "Wimmersdorf is right.
You're right lad. How can we expect to live if we don't uphold such
people?"--"I don't agree with you," said Schulz the carpenter letting
his head appear above the edge of the pulpit by slow degrees, like that
of a fat old snail out of a shell which has become rather a tight fit.
"That's all nonsense, Wimmersdorf, great nonsense. If the Guerlitz
potentate had ever troubled himself about us before, if he had paid his
bills at once it would have been all very well, but he needs us now. If
he were outvoted, would he go out modestly? I tell you no! And why?
Because he is a great Mogul. Away with him, I say, away with him!" Then
the snail crept back into its shell, but its speech had had a great
effect. "Out with him! Out with him!" cried several voices, while
others shouted: "Go on! Begin again from the beginning!" and a
mischievous journeyman shoemaker sang in a loud clear voice:
"Little snail, pray don't be shy
Point your four-fold horns on high!"
But Schulz was much too wise to show himself again, he knew that he
might only weaken the decided effect his speech had made if he said any
more, so he took his stand by Braesig at the back of the pulpit and
joined him in shouting: "Out, out!" They would certainly have gained
the day if the devil had not sent David and Slus'uhr to take their
places in the speaker's pulpit, where they now made their appearance
their upper lips adorned with moustachios to show their liberal
principles. These two then proceeded to sing Pomuchelskopp's praises as
though to the music of a psaltery and fiddle. Slus'uhr called the
squire of Guerlitz: "An angel of charity."--"Yes, a fine solid angel!"
cried the witty journeyman shoemaker--he had helped many a poor man in
Rahnstaedt (Slus'uhr did not think it necessary to mention that his
friend had charged ten per cent interest for these little loans) and he
was willing to do even more than that for the town. David sang a song
to the same tune, but perhaps his eulogies were even more highly
coloured and spiced than those of the attorney: "Gentlemen!" he began,
making at the same time a peculiarly low bow to the witty shoemaker as
if to ask him to be silent and let him go on: "Gentlemen, consider,
only consider the weal of the whole town. Look here, per primo, there's
Mr. Pomuchelskopp in person, and then there's Mrs. Pomuchelskopp--a
horribly clever woman she is too!--then there are Miss Sally and Miss
Mally, Mr. Gustavus, Mr. Anthony and Mr. Philip; then come Miss Mary,
Miss Sophie and Miss Milly and the little Masters Christian and Josy,
and last of all there's the baby. Wait a bit, I hav'n't done yet--then
there are the housemaids, cooks and nursery maids, and the wenches who
attend to the pigs--now who else is there?--then come the coachman, the
grooms and the cowherd--there's something else he needs? Why shouldn't
he need something? Every one does! You all require coats and trousers,
shoes and boots, stockings, shirts and night shirts. In cold weather
you must have warm coats, and in warm weather, light coats. Then on
Palm Sunday when you are confirmed you must have good coats, and at
Christmas likewise. Ah yes, have I not always said that this Christ you
worship must have been a great man? How busy everyone is at Christmas
time! We fill our shops and keep all sorts of beautiful things. Who
buys them from us? Mr. Pomuchelskopp to be sure! I'll say no more." And
indeed it was not necessary for him to say more, for no sooner had he
finished his speech than all the shoemakers and tailors began in
thought to make shoes and boots for the little Pomuchelskopps, and to
sew trousers and coats for them, while the shopkeepers imagined
themselves doing a large business with Muchel, and Kurz went so far as
to sell him half the contents of his shop--in thought.
But in spite of all this Braesig and Schulz cried out the more:
"Out! out!"--To which others replied: "No, remain!"--"Out!
out!"--"Remain!"--At last there was a frightful uproar. The material
interests of Rahnstaedt in the shape of Pomuchelskopp's boots, trousers,
&c. opposed the ideal of fraternity; it was a hard battle.--At last the
president's bell produced a lull, and Mr. Rein began: "Gentlemen!" he
said--"Out! out!"--"No, stay!"--"Gentlemen," he said once more, "God be
thanked!"--"Out! out!"--"Stay!"--"Thank God, the opinion of this
assembly has already been so clearly expressed that we may at once
proceed to voting. So: Let all who wish to admit Mr. Pomuchelskopp into
our club go to the musician's platform, and let the rest go to the
other side."--The members of the Rahnstaedt Reform-club were now all in
motion. They stamped their feet as hard as they could on the floor as
they walked, in order to show how firmly their minds were made up. It
sounded in the distance as if Grammelin had set a fuller's mill to work
on his premises, the consequences of which act would soon be seen,
for Grammelin rushed in and exclaimed: "Mr. President, my lads, I
entreat you to choose another way, a quieter way of voting!"--"What!"
cried Thiel, the cabinetmaker. "We _must_ vote or this wouldn't be a
Reform-club."--"That's quite true, Thiel, but your voting is bringing
down the plaster of my ceiling."--They all saw that it was true and so
they agreed to Grammelin's request to vote with their hands instead of
their feet.
The votes were counted and Pomuchelskopp was admitted to be a member of
the Rahnstaedt Reform-club,--Schulz, the carpenter, turned to Braesig:
"Ah, Mr. Braesig," he said, "if things go on like this, what's to become
of Germany?"--"I don't care," said Braesig, "but don't let anyone talk
to me of fraternity."
Then the question of the origin of poverty was brought forward. The
president put the subject clearly before the meeting thus: "When
did poverty first show itself in the world, and why does it still
exist?"--Rector Baldrian was the first speaker. He mounted the pulpit
from behind like everyone else, and as soon as he had taken his place,
he leant forward and took a large bundle of books from his head pupil
that he might the better prove the truth of his statements. When he had
arranged before him on the ledge, the Bible, Xenophon, Plato,
Aristotle, Livy, Tacitus, and as many volumes of Cicero as he happened
to possess, he made a bow, and said that these books were an army of
authorities he had brought to help him.--"Ah, lad," said John Bank to
Deichert, the shoemaker, "it'll be slow work now, I know the man, let's
each send for another glass of beer before he begins."--The rector now
showed from the testimony of the Bible that poverty was known to the
Jews of old.--"That isn't true!" cried a hoarse voice from amongst the
crowd behind the speaker, "these cursed Jews have all the money. _They_
know what a poor fellow feels?"--The rector paid no attention to this
interruption, he showed all that could be learnt from the Bible on the
subject, then taking up Xenophon he explained the condition of the
Spartan Helots, but his audience did not seem to understand a word of
what he was saying. After that he took up Plato, opened it at the part
about the Republic, and added in all good faith that if the
Rahnstaedters had what Plato had imagined for the Athenians on these
evenings, then every Rahnstaedt labourer would have roast-beef and
potatoes every day for dinner, and would be able to drive in a carriage
every Sunday afternoon, and the children would have gold chains instead
of ribbons to tie round their necks.--"He ought to tell us more plainly
how we can have all that?" said some. "Hurrah for Plato, hurrah!" cried
a number of voices.--"I say, lad, does he mean the old Jew Platow who
can only see out of one eye?"--"Ah, lad, I used to know him well,
he has often cut up a bit of beef in my shop," said Krueger, the
butcher.--The president's bell rang and produced silence, then that
rascal Mr. Rein turned to the rector, and begged him in the name of the
assembly to be so kind as to give the Rahnstaedt Reform-club a clear
description of Plato's Republic. That was a terrible request! The
perspiration stood in large drops on the poor rector's forehead as he
three times began to explain the nature of that ideal Republic, and as
often broke down, because his own ideas regarding it were not of the
clearest. At last he said that Plato's Republic was a republic, and
that he was sure all of his politically educated hearers knew what a
republic was. As everyone was agreed on that point, the rector went on
to speak about the Romans, and told his audience as a very curious fact
that the Romans had now and then suffered from starvation, and had then
shouted at the tops of their voices for "panem et circenses." "Now, my
dear hearers," he continued, "you must know that 'panem' signifies
'bread,' and 'circenses' 'public games'."--At this moment Deichert, the
shoemaker, sprang upon his bench, in spite of the efforts Jack Bank
made to drag him back by the coat tails, and exclaimed: "The old Romans
weren't such fools after all, and what they did we Rahnstaedters can do
any day. Why as things are now if I and Boekel, Juerendten and others
were to play a game at vang-toon when we are sitting together at
Pfeifer's, the mayor would have our cards taken away from us, and we
should have to appear in the town hall with Daddy Pfeifer and pay a
fine and costs! Why, I say again like the old Romans: Let's have free
public games."--"You're right there, lad," cried Juerendt, "three cheers
for the old Romans and Mr. Baldrian."--"Hurrah! hurrah!" and once more
"Hurrah!" was shouted.--The rector bowed his thanks both for himself
and the Romans, and as he saw how often the president glanced at the
clock, he soon brought his speech to a conclusion. "My honoured
hearers," he said, "when we consider the poverty at present amongst
ourselves, we find that it is only the children of poor people and of
journeymen who are obliged to go about our town begging." He then came
down from the pulpit with his army of authorities under his arm.
He was succeeded by John "For my part".--"Gentlemen," he said, "for my
part, I am a dyer," here he stretched both hands out over the edges of
the "vat" to show how blue they were dyed by his work, "I was in Mr.
Baldrian's school when I was a boy, and I say that he's right, we must
have a republic. You may choose Plato's if you like, for my part, or
any other; but what the rector says of the journeymen is a sin and a
shame; I mean the journeymen, for my part, and not the rector.
Gentlemen, I, for my part, have travelled to other lands in my calling
as a journeyman dyer."--"You sat quietly at home with your mother,"
cried a voice.--"What's that you say? I went as far as Birnbaum in
Poland, and even further; for my part, onward was my motto, as far as
the blue sky extends and an honest dyer in blue can get work," here he
beat upon his breast. "And gentlemen," he went on, "I could, for my
part, have two men under me; but I can't manage it, for indigo is too
dear."--"Ah, you rogue!" cried Deichert, the shoemaker, "you use
logwood."--"I think, for my part, that you're talking nonsense,"
replied John.--"What indigo?" exclaimed a number of voices, "he dyes
with logwood!"--"Yes," cried the wit, "anyone can tell the women who
get their things dyed by him in a moment, they all have a washed out
look, for that wretched logwood comes off so dreadfully."--"Young man,"
asked John with a grand air, "have you ever examined my tubs?"--"You
should hold your tongue when people speak of poverty. You're a rich
man," cried another.--"For my part, gentlemen, I think that's all bosh.
It's true that I've built myself a new house ...."--"Of logwood," cried
the shoemaker.--"Of logwood," shouted a dozen voices.--"No," cried the
dyer, "of pine, with oaken posts."--"Of logwood!" was shouted again by
the assembly.--"For my part, gentlemen," exclaimed the dyer beating his
breast with his blue hand and drawing himself up to his full height,
"I'm a Rahnstaedt citizen and that's all that I've got to say."--"And
it's quite enough," cried a number of voices.--"Then you're a very good
thing," said some of the labourers, "down with the slow coach, we know
all that he has to say." So John "For my part" had to come down from
the speaker's desk.
Kurz was the next to address the meeting: "Fellow citizens," he said,
"we came here to talk of poverty and the honourable gentleman who spoke
last told us about indigo instead. It's enough to bring down a
judgment upon him! How can we tradesmen be expected to pay our taxes
when every dyer imports his own indigo. Now the honourable gentleman
who spoke last does this in order that no one may guess how much
logwood he adds to the tub of indigo! He takes care to keep his trumps
out of sight."--"You always peep at the cards," cried some one behind
him; he stared Braesig full in the face, and then went on as if nothing
had been said to interrupt him: "If he chose he might buy his indigo
from me at a much lower price than he can get it in Rostock. But,
gentlemen, our subject is poverty. If matters remain as they are we
shall soon all be poor."--"He's right there, lad," said Deichert to
Jack Bank.--"Fellow citizens," continued Kurz, "I bought myself a
carriage and horses to send about the country side with my wares, for I
must neglect no possible mode of turning an honest penny in these hard
times."--"These small profits don't seem likely to come any more," said
Fred Sievert, the driver.--"But," Kurz went on, "they took possession
of my carriage last year at Tetterow."--"Because you didn't pay the
tax," interrupted Fred Sievert.--Kurz cared nothing for such a small
matter as an interruption, for he had once been turned out of the
meeting and had come back again at another time, so he went on: "The
mayor sent for me and asked me, what van I employed to carry my
wares.--'My own van,' I answered.--'Then you do it per se,' he
said.--'No,' I said, 'not per sea; Rahnstaedt isn't a sea port town; per
van.'--'Oh, I was talking Latin,' he said with a laugh."--"Fellow
citizens, what is the world coming to when our judges begin to talk
Latin? When our horses and carriages are put under arrest? That's the
way to become poor! How are we trades-people to carry on business when
we make such very small profits on coffee, sugar, tobacco and snuff as
we now do?"--"You'd better hold your tongue about your confounded
snuff," interposed Deichert, "it gave me such a swelled nose," and he
covered his nose with his hand, but did not make much by that action,
for everyone laughed when they saw that it stretched out beyond his
hand both to the right and left.--"Fellow citizens," said Kurz, "I know
very well that poverty must exist, but I think it ought to be kept
within reasonable bounds. I mean, it should never be more than each man
can deal with by himself without becoming a burden on his neighbours.
But is that possible in the present sad condition of our town? Fellow
citizens, I have been struggling for many years past to put an end to
certain unjust privileges in the possession of which some people are
revelling through the favouritism of the authorities."--"I say, lad,"
said Thiel, the cabinetmaker, to Juerendt, "you'll see that he's going
to speak about the town jail, and if he does, he'd better get out of
that, for Wredow, the baker, is my brother-in-law."--And sure enough he
was right!--"Fellow citizens," cried Kurz, "I mean the town jail; that
un ....."--"Down with him!" shouted Thiel, the cabinet-maker.--"Yes,
down with him!" was echoed throughout the hall.--"We won't listen to
anything about jails or pails," cried a number of voices.--"He won't
allow anyone to make a small profit except himself," said Fred
Sievert.--"He wants to have everything for himself, and the town
jail into the bargain."--The president rang the bell in the most
inhuman manner, while Kurz gesticulated wildly, and shouted: "Fellow
citizens ...."--"What's all this row 'fellow citizen'?" said Thiel and
Deichert while dragging the unfortunate shopkeeper out of the pulpit by
the tails of his coat. He soon disappeared into the hollow of the
"vat", but his two hands were long to be seen grasping the sides
of it convulsively, reminding one of a pot of soup boiling on the
kitchen fire, in which the fat bubbles up with a sound like "town
jail--jail--jail," then all was silent and Kurz fell almost fainting
into Braesig's arms. Braesig and Schulz took him out of the room between
them.--"Hold your foolish tongue," said uncle Braesig shoving Kurz into
the room next to that in which the meeting was held, "do you want to be
turned out in good earnest?"--Then the two old fellows placed
themselves on guard, one on each side of Kurz, like the two men in the
"willen Manns-Gulden" who watch a rampant lion lest he should suddenly
spring upon the people. The only difference was that Braesig and Schulz
acted more wisely than the wild men in having each a long pipe instead
of a whip in their hands.
Meanwhile Fred Sievert had shown that the poverty they were suffering
from was caused by their having to pay so much for keeping up the
roads, and had proposed that the road tax should be done away with.
Wimmersdorf the tailor had then given it as his opinion that something
must be done for the poor, and had thought that, at that moment, the
only feasible plan was to write on the door of the Grand Duke's castle
it Rahnstaedt that it was "national property." If the castle were sold
and the money that it brought were distributed amongst the poor, he
considered that there would be no more pauperism in Rahnstaedt. This
motion was carried unanimously, and seven men were sent to the castle
armed with Grammelin's stable lantern and a bit of chalk to see about
putting the plan into execution.
"Christian," said a voice behind Mr. Pomuchelskopp, "I like this sort
of thing very much. You can write too, so you must write that on our
squire's front door to-morrow evening." Pomuchelskopp looked round; he
thought he recognised the voice, and found himself--face to face with
one of his own labourers, who had joined the Reform club before him,
and who had the assurance to nod to him on catching his eye. He was
very much taken aback, and did not in the least know what to do. He
asked himself what card he should play, whether being 'master' was
still a trump card, or whether 'fraternity' had taken its place.
Something had to be done at once. He must at least bring the opinion of
the meeting round to his side. So just as Braesig and Schulz came back
into the hall after having seen Kurz safe home, the president said:
"Mr. Pomuchelskopp is going to make us an address." Pomuchelskopp
forced his way slowly through the crowd, and as he passed them, he
seized the opportunity of shaking hands with Thiel the carpenter, of
giving Wimmersdorf the tailor a friendly slap on the back, and of
speaking to the witty journeyman shoemaker. When he had got into the
tribune, he said: "Gentlemen." Now it always makes a great impression
when a man dressed in a blue surtout with brass buttons addresses a
crowd of smock-frocked labourers and poorly dressed mechanics as
"gentlemen," so a murmur went through the hall: "He's right!"--"He
knows how to treat us!"--"Gentlemen," repeated Pomuchelskopp as soon as
the murmurs had ceased, "I am not an orator, but a simple farmer. I
have heard better speakers," here he bowed to rector Baldrian, John
'For my part' and Wimmersdorf, and even Fred Sievert's services were
recognised by Mr. Pomuchelskopp on account of his speech about the
road money, "and I have also heard worse," here he glanced towards
the door out of which Kurz had been led but a short time before,
"than myself, but gentlemen, I didn't come here because of your
eloquent speeches, but because of the _principles_ that actuate
you."--"Bravo, bravo!"--"Gentlemen I am heart and soul for liberty,
heart and soul for equality, and heart and soul for fraternity. I am
very grateful to you for having admitted me into your noble
association." He now pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and
placed it on the ledge by his side. "Gentlemen, you were talking about
poverty. I have spent many a silent hour in thinking over that
question, and have passed many a sleepless night in considering how the
evil may best be remedied." He wiped the perspiration from his forehead
with the handkerchief as if to impress his auditors with the deep
anxiety this subject caused him. "Of course, Gentlemen," he went on, "I
allude to the poverty that exists in small towns, for there is no such
thing as poverty in the country."--"Oh! oh!" cried a voice behind him,
"It's time for you to speak, Christian."--"Our labourers," pursued
Muchel, paying no attention to the displeasure to which his last remark
had given rise, although he knew who had spoken quite well, "our
labourers have each a free house and garden, grazing for a cow, as well
as hay and straw for its winter fodder; they have fire wood and peat;
as much potato and flax land as they require, and every week they are
given a measure of barley and the same quantity of rye or three
shillings in money. Then there's all the thresher's corn, and the
labourer's wives can make six pence a day besides if they like. Now, I
ask you gentlemen, if the labourers in town are as well off as that?
What can a labourer want more?"--"Nothing! nothing!" cried all the town
labourers. "Gentlemen," said a journeyman carpenter named Stephen
Rutschow, "I am a journeyman carpenter, and my wages in summer are ten
pence a day, one penny of which I have to give back to my master. I'd
much rather be one of Mr. Pomuchelskopp's labourers than what I
am."--"You donkey!" cried Schulz. "You might have had plenty of work
all spring, but you're too fond of lounging about."--"Silence!
silence!"--"Gentlemen," continued Pomuchelskopp, "I have told you
what the position of my labourers is, and will now tell you how
they're treated. Any labourer may give warning at any time and go to
another place. Isn't my conduct worthy of all honour? Isn't that
enough?"--"Christian speak, the time has come," cried the same voice as
before. "Gentlemen," said Pomuchelskopp in conclusion, "I have been
induced to become a member of your noble association because of your
high principles, and because of the great poverty existing in all small
towns such as this. You shall see that--although I am not a rich man--I
will do all that lies in my power to help you. And now, gentlemen, I
ask you to help me in return, for if town and country are only true to
each other, order will be maintained, and everything will be conducted
to a peaceful end by this most admirable assembly. Long live the
Rahnstaedt Reform club!"--"Hurrah!--Hurrah!--Hurrah!" was shouted from
every corner of the hall, interspersed here and there with: "Three
cheers for Mr. Pomuchelskopp!" Muchel then returned to his seat bowing
and smiling.
The very moment he left it, the pulpit was again filled, and Zachariah
Braesig's red face showed itself above the book board. His face did not
shine down on the assembly with the peaceful radiance of the sun or
moon, no, it more nearly resembled the thunderbolt that God sometimes
sends down upon the world as a punishment for its sins. "Fellow
citizens," he cried, looking at his fellow citizens with an expression
that seemed to say that he had devoured two of them for breakfast that
morning, and intended to pick out the fattest of them for supper,
"Fellow citizens, if Mr. Samuel Pomuchelskopp had remained quietly in
his own farm-yard at Guerlitz, I should have said nothing; if he had not
spoken too familiarly to me here tonight; if he had not told a whole
string of most unblushing lies in this sublime corner of our
fatherland," here he thumped the "vat" to show that it was it he
alluded to, "I should have said nothing."--"That's got nothing to do
with it," interrupted Wimmersdorf, "that's only abuse."--"Silence! He
can speak as well as anybody."--"Mr. Wimmersdorf," said Braesig, "if you
don't like my speech you may shut your ears for all _I_ care, as I
think you're a foolish fellow. Now you may go and have me taken up for
libel if you like, I am bailiff Braesig."--"Quite right--go on," was the
cry. "Fellow citizens, I repeat that I should have said nothing, for I
hold it to be very wrong of any farmer, or of any man, to speak against
a master in the presence of his labourers. But when a man,"--"a great
Mogul!" shouted Schulz--"places himself on the altar of fraternity in
order to throw dust in the eyes of this assembly, and knowingly give
them a false idea of the condition of his labourers, I _will_ speak.
Fellow citizens, my name is bailiff Zachariah Braesig."--"Hear,
hear."--"Mr. Samuel Pomuchelskopp has told you that there's no poverty
in the country, because he has arranged everything that affects the
labourers so perfectly. 'Bonus,' as our honoured president says--but,
fellow citizens, these things sound very well, in like manner as with
the roast beef and plums of life--they are uncommonly good to eat--but
very few of us can get them. For example, take the houses. To the right
of Guerlitz farm is a kind of pig sty, that is called a cottage, in
which Willgans lives--is Willgans here?" Willgans was not there. "It
doesn't matter. The thatch has never been mended during the last three
years, so that the rain comes in in streams, and when there is a storm
whilst he and his wife are out harvesting, the children may be seen
paddling about in the kitchen like frogs in a pond. When he asked
his master to have it mended, Mr. Pomuchelskopp said his name was
Willgans (wild goose) and water was always pleasant for geese to swim
in."--"Faugh! He oughtn't to have said that."--"And now with regard to
the grazing and hay for a cow. Where is the field for the cow to graze
in? About two miles and a half from the village, at the very edge of
the estate, is a large meadow on which nothing but twitch and fir trees
will grow, and the women have to go all that distance three times a day
to milk the cows. That's to say, three of them have to do so, for
eighteen labourers out of the whole one and twenty have lost their
cattle from disease, and the three cows that remain are just like
dancing masters, their figures are so slight and elegant!"--"What a
great Mogul the fellow is!" cried Schulz from behind. "Out with him,
out with him!"--"Silence! Let Mr. Braesig go on."--"Yes, fellow
citizens, I will go on. As for the fire wood and peat: The peat is bad,
it crumbles away without giving any heat, and the fire wood is nothing
but any branches and cones the children can find in the woods and bring
home on their backs. And the potato and flax land? Where is it? A poor
bit of ground at the outside of the estate. And who manures it? The
birds manure it, and when one sees the few handfuls of potatoes that
are dug in autumn, one clasps one's hands above one's head and
exclaims: 'Great God! And that's what's to feed the people and the pigs
all winter!' But they can't live on it, they steal what more they
require. They don't steal from Mr. Pomuchelskopp; they know better than
to do that; but they steal from the neighbours, and a friend of mine,
Mrs. Nuessler, has given orders that if any of the Guerlitz labourers are
caught stealing from her potato-stores, they are to be let off, for
they're starving."--"Hurrah for Mrs. Nuessler!" cried John Bank.
"Hurrah!" was shouted throughout the hall, and again, "hurrah!"--"And
the flax," pursued Braesig, "is only so long," showing about a foot's
length on his arm, "indeed Attorney Slus'uhr, who is a particular
friend of Mr. Pomuchelskopp, said jestingly in my presence, that the
Guerlitz women all wear short chemises because the staple of the flax is
too short to make long cloth."--"What a wretch the fellow is, to make a
joke about other folk's misery," cried Schulz, "Out with him, out with
him!"--"Fellow citizens," continued Braesig, "I tell you that the
houses, cow's grass, fire wood and peat, potato and flax land are the
roast beef and plums of the labourers in the country; they are pleasant
things, but are not to be had, that's the reason of the poverty in
country districts. What is the cause of poverty in towns? I will tell
you, fellow-citizens, for I have lived in Rahnstaedt long enough to have
observed the human nature to be seen here; _the great poverty in towns
arises from the extreme pauverte to be found there?_" Having said this
he descended the pulpit, and "Bravo!" was shouted throughout the hall.
"He's right!" said some. "Long live Mr. bailiff Braesig!" cried others.
The president then closed the meeting, for he said that no one would
care to speak after that last address. Everyone surrounded Braesig,
congratulated him, and shook him warmly by the hand. The only
exceptions to the general rule were Pomuchelskopp and David Berger,
leader of the town band; for the one had slipped away quietly, and the
other had run home to collect his fellow musicians. When Braesig got out
at the inn door he found himself in the presence of seven performers on
brass instruments, who stood round him in a half circle, and played:
"See the conquering hero comes!" in his honour, while David Berger, who
had put on his spectacles, beat time with one of Grammelin's billiard
cues. The Guerlitz labourers then came up to uncle Braesig, and Ruehrdanz
the weaver said: "Don't be afraid, Sir; you've stood by us, and we'll
stand by you." And so when Braesig was solemnly conducted through the
marketplace and through all the principal streets in Rahnstaedt, this
small band of oppressed and saddened men followed him faithfully, for
it was the first time that any one had spoken as though he understood
and felt for them in their dire necessity, and the knowledge that one
is not quite forsaken does more to develop and keep alive the good that
is in the human heart than any admonitions however well intended.
Braesig said a few words of farewell to his guard of honour when they
all reached Mrs. Behrens' house. He said he could not ask them in, as
it was a sort of parsonage, but added that he invited all present to
drink a bowl of punch at Grammelin's on the following evening. The
invitation was accepted with a 'hurrah,' and when Braesig was
comfortably in bed and was telling his friend Charles all the events of
the evening, the musicians struck up: "High stand the laurels o'er the
bed where the warrior sleeps." Meanwhile the Guerlitz labourers were
walking home talking gravely and seriously as they went. "We must
rebel, lads," said Ruehrdanz the weaver "there's no help for it, but let
us act quietly and firmly, not violently; for what would the Grand Duke
and Mr. Braesig say if we were to be so ungrateful for his speech as to
act like brutes instead of honest men?"