Friday, the marriage day of Rudolph and Mina, had come, and the weather
was as beautiful as it ought always to be at Whitsuntide. Beside the
modest farm house at Rexow Schulz the carpenter had erected a peculiar
looking building by Joseph Nuessler's orders. From the outside, the
building was not much of an ornament to the place, for it was made of
rough planks nailed together, and was very like a common shed. But the
inside of this "work of art" was very different. The walls were hung
with sky-blue and yellow carpets, that is to say, one half of the room
was hung with blue and the other half with yellow, and the reason of
there being two colours was that there was not enough of the one to
hang so large a hall, to be got in all Rahnstaedt, especially when it
was wanted in a hurry. There were six great beams put across to support
the roof, for Schulz refused to undertake the business unless he was
allowed to have the beams; indeed he declared that there ought by
rights to be nine supports, the span of the roof was so great. Now the
truth was that the building was much too large, and the expense of it
too great for such an occasion, but Joseph knew nothing of carpentry,
and Mrs. Nuessler was too busy seeing that there was sufficient for her
guests to eat and drink to be able to attend to anything else; while
Braesig was far too grateful to Schulz for his support at the Reform
club to overlook and curtail his plans, so that Mr. Schulz had his own
way in everything, and put up the six beams without anyone saying him
nay. To each of these beams Braesig fastened Chinese lanterns, after
which Christian, the coachman, bestrode the beams in buckskin breeches
every day for a week while festooning them with garlands of oak leaves;
he succeeded in making them look beautiful, but at the expense of his
breeches which the rough wood tore to tatters. Joseph seeing this took
the price of a new pair out of his red purse, for he wanted everyone to
be happy on his daughter Mina's wedding day, and he knew what would
please Christian. "Mother," he called to his wife, "Come and look. What
else can be done now?"--"It looks very nice," she said, "but, good
gracious, we must put candles in those lanterns." She was going away
when a voice addressed her from the clouds, that is to say, from the
clouds of oak leaves, and at the same moment a man's head showed itself
amongst the foliage, and the voice went on solemnly: "That's attended
to already, Mrs. Nuessler." When she looked up, she saw the jolly red
face of her old lover Braesig peering down at her through the oak leaves
and tallow candles, for he had tied the candles round his neck to keep
his hands free for climbing. As soon as he had finished he came down,
and the three stood side by side looking at the effect of the
decorations. "Really Joseph," said Braesig, "its just like one of the
fairy palaces in the thousand and one nights that I read about last
winter in one of the books I got from the lending library." And Joseph
answered: "Yes, Braesig, it all depends upon circumstances. This is only
to last for one night though; I'll have it taken down the day after the
wedding."--"It's very strong," said the carpenter, "these six beams
will last for an age, and any number of fairies can come in here as
soon as they're baked and born."
Next day the fairies came, but not quite as Mr. Schulz had imagined
them. They all came dressed in crinolines, that is to say in petticoats
made of horse hair; not in the bells, barrels, and bee-hives, or clad
in the armour of steel hoops that they delight in at the present day.
Still they liked their petticoats to stick out even then, and old aunt
Klein from Rostock had run a good large hoop of strong oak into her
under petticoat, which had knocked against her sister's shins during
the whole drive, hurting her so much that she had to hop about on one
leg at the marriage. The fairies wore wreaths of real flowers in their
hair, not artificial flowers bought from a milliner. Now that was a
great pity, for at the end of the evening when the dancers were tired,
and their eyes began to close from weariness, and their hair was
somewhat dishevelled as if it had been blown about by the wind, the
poor tired flowers hung their heavy heads towards the earth seeming to
whisper faintly in each other's ears: "I wish it were over; nothing has
ever made me long for the sweet calm night so much as this burning
glare."--Now-a-days people manage better. However tired they may be,
the artificial flowers they wear in their hair are as fresh and neat as
at the beginning of the ball. These flowers might say: "Here we are as
good as ever. The wire and thread on which we rest have kept us firm
and strong, and when we have been put away in a box for a time, we
shall be quite ready to begin again."--Some people say: How much
prettier girls are now than they used to be! Ah well, as long as they
keep their youth, health, and innocence, they may dress in oaken or
steel hoops and artificial flowers for all that I care!
Joseph and Mrs. Nuessler had allowed Braesig to invite anyone he liked,
so he had asked a number of nice and pretty girls in Rahnstaedt and the
neighbourhood to the festivities at Rexow, and also some men. If one or
two of these last had rather bowed legs, he thought it did not matter,
for the shape of their legs was clearly seen, and so no one need be
deluded into dancing with them. Besides the Rahnstaedters, Joseph had
made Rudolph invite all their mutual relations to the marriage, and
they were many in number. There were cousins scattered throughout all
Mecklenburg and western Pomerania. There were uncle Lewis, uncle
Christian, uncle John, and cousin Bill of whom Joseph said: "He's my
second cousin, and is a very amusing fellow, especially when eating and
drinking are going on."--Then there were aunt Dina, aunt Stina, aunt
Mina, aunt Lina, aunt Rina--and lastly there was aunt Sophie, who as
Joseph said: "had been a very choice specimen of womanhood in her
youth."--"That must have been a long time ago," remarked Braesig.--One
grand carriage after another drove up to the door at Rexow, and all the
different members of the Nuessler clan crowded round Joseph, greeted
each other heartily, and asked after each other's well-doing during the
last fifteen or twenty years, for they had each lived almost entirely
at home for that time, and had heard nothing of their relations, as
those of them who could write, had never taken the trouble to do
so.--On seeing this Braesig whispered sarcastically to Mrs. Nuessler:
"They're a very faithful and strong race, these Nuesslers! Genial and
hearty too, Joseph is of another stamp from the rest in being so very
thin and silent." He then went to the "temple of art" as the carpenter
called it, and found Schulz sitting in wrapt contemplation of his work
over a bottle of Bavarian beer: "Schulz," he said, "you've done your
part, and I've done mine, but you'll see that Joseph has spoilt the
whole evening with bringing such hosts of his foolish relations here,
by the end of the evening they'll take themselves off like a large dish
of curds."--"I've got nothing to do with it," said Mr. Schulz, "for I
myself am only one of the guests; but if they're what you describe,
then all I can say is: Out! out!"--Braesig now went out into the garden
and wandered up and down like a tree frog; I do not use this simile
because he was wearing a green coat, for he had on his best brown coat
and a yellow waistcoat; no, the reason he was like a tree frog was that
he prophesied bad weather at night. Suddenly he looked over the garden
hedge and saw Joseph's own "phantom" coming towards the house, driven
by a labourer instead of by Christian. On closer inspection he
perceived two women seated in the carriage, and on closer inspection
still, he discovered that it was his own sister, Mrs. Korthals, widow
of a dairy farmer, and her only daughter. They lived in a distant
village in western Pomerania and were in very straitened
circumstances.--"God bless me!" he exclaimed. "My sister! And that must
be her daughter Lotta. This is her doing!" he cried as he rushed
through the kitchen and out into the hall where he met Mrs. Nuessler,
and said to her: "This is your doing, I know. Oh, you are ....."--At
this moment the two women came into the entrance hall in very very
simple dress, but they were both beautiful, _most_ beautiful! The elder
with tears of joy and gratitude rolling down her kind, honest old face;
and the younger with her bright unaffected manner, her large blue eyes
and golden hair. The latter came forward at once and asked: "Where is
my dear good uncle Zachariah?" she had only seen him once long ago when
she was a little child.--"Here, here!" he cried, drawing his sister and
niece forward to where Mrs. Nuessler was standing, and adding: "There
she is. Thank her for this."--When the two women had told Mrs. Nuessler
how happy she had made them by bringing them to Rexow, they looked
round for Braesig, but he was gone. He had forced his way through the
heavy sack-like Nuesslers like a miller who had set his mill properly to
work, and then had taken refuge in the arbour in the garden, where he
employed himself in blowing such loud trumpet blasts on his nose, that
Schulz, the carpenter, came out of the temple of art to see whether it
was the musicians who were coming.
But they did not appear until later. First of all Kurz and the rector
came, each of them accompanied by his good old wife. When they had been
in the parlour for some little time and had been introduced to the
Nuessler family, uncle Lewis Nuessler, a thick-set, over-bearing sort of
man, went up to Kurz, and said: "You may count yourself fortunate in
having succeeded in arranging a marriage between your son and one of
this family, for we are rich and well-to-do. Look," pointing at uncle
Christian, who had just thrown himself on the sofa, "he's worth fifteen
thousand pounds."--"I've got nothing to do with this," remarked uncle
Christian. Kurz felt very cross, but he restrained all expression of
his feelings for the time. Uncle Lewis went on to ask: "Did you ever
see so many rich people in one room before?" and Kurz, who had now
quite lost his temper, answered: "No, nor so many fools either!" He
then turned away, and his wife, who had overheard what he had said came
up to him, and whispered: "Pray, take care, Kurz. You're beginning your
democratic ways here, and you'd much better go to bed." He would not do
that, however, and he was shunned by all the Nuesslers for the rest of
the evening.
At last parson Godfrey and Lina arrived. They were received with all
honour by their parents because they were to perform the marriage
ceremony. Don't let any one misunderstand me--Lina was not to take any
actual open part in the ceremony, that would never have done, but she
had interfered with Godfrey this once, so far as to read over and alter
the address her husband was to make to the newly married couple, and
she assured Godfrey that she had a perfect right to do so, as it was
more a family matter than a clerical one. She maintained her right as
Mina's twin sister, who cared for her so much more than any other
sister could do, to know what was going to be said to her, and so
Godfrey was obliged to give her her own way.
Hawermann came next, in a glass coach, accompanied by Mrs. Behrens,
Louisa and Anna. Mrs. Behrens would consent to go in no other
conveyance. She had once been obliged to decline an invitation to a
marriage at Rexow, for she happened to be in great sorrow at the time,
so she wanted to go to this wedding in greater state than she would
otherwise have done. She wanted to show by their manner of going how
happy they all were: "For we are all very happy to-day, ar'n't we?" she
said pressing, Hawermann's, Louisa's and Anna's hands alternately. Soon
after they got to Rexow, Hawermann caught sight of Braesig's sister,
whom he had known long years before, and sitting down beside her, began
to talk over old times with her. Every third word they said was,
"Zachariah," and Louisa and Anna took Lotta between them and told her
about "uncle Braesig."
A great harvest waggon covered with flowers and garlands of leaves now
drove up to the door, driven by Christian the coachman, who on that day
acted as postillion. Christian had on his new buckskin breeches, his
whip had a knot of red and blue ribbons on the handle, and he himself
had a wreath of roses round his hat, making it appear as if his old hat
were seizing this opportunity of celebrating its golden marriage day.
On the first cushion in front of the waggon was David Berger, the town
musician who was playing on a clarionette: "Three jolly post boys,
drinking at the Dragon" &c. &c.,[4] and behind him were the rest of the
band, playing the same air but not in the same time, because sitting on
the second, third and fourth cushions they were naturally somewhat
behind Mr. David Berger, who was in possession of the first. Besides
that Mr. Berger himself got wrong when he turned his head quickly, or
when Christian wanted to hasten the horses by using his whip, for at
such times he always felt something tug his back hair; and no wonder;
one of the members of his band had tied the lash of Christian's whip to
his hair, so that whenever the coachman twitched the whip, or when he
himself moved, his hair got a good pull.
Behind this waggon, came another as large, filled with girls dressed in
white, with wreaths of roses and pinks, which peeped shyly out from
amongst their thick curls, as much as to show how ashamed they were of
themselves for appearing to show themselves in rivalry beside the
blooming faces of the young girls. These were the little fairies. And
amongst the fairies sat the post-master in his new uniform, which was
the only one that Rahnstaedt had to boast of, and to the honour of
wearing which he had only lately attained. There he sat like a
chaffinch in his bright new plumage, singing his merriest songs amid a
garden of flowers. This waggon was followed by a third, full of
partners for the fairies, chosen from amongst the best dancers in
Rahnstaedt. Foremost amongst these was Kurz's assistant, Mr. Suessmann,
who was amusing himself by dancing along by the side of the waggon
followed by the rector's youngest pupil, a schoolboy, who footed it
lightly and airily behind him.
The guests all looked supremely happy, but Mrs. Nuessler felt not a
little uncomfortable, for she did not know any of the new arrivals,
Braesig has chosen them more because they could dance well, than for any
other reason. She called Braesig, but before he could come to her
rescue, Christian, the coachman, had smoothed away all difficulties and
had made himself master of ceremonies. He opened the kitchen door and
the dining-room door, and invited all whom he had brought with him from
Rahnstaedt to enter: "Go in, go in," he said, "sit down quietly, and
rest a bit, the other man will soon come." His advice was good, for one
of the groom's men had not yet arrived, and so the marriage could not
take place at once. It was Fred Triddelfitz for whom they were waiting;
he had been induced by Rudolph's entreaties to take off the ban from
the Nuessler's house, and to undertake the office of groom's man.
At last he came riding into the court, and then dismounting, came into
the room amongst the other guests with such a stately air, bowing
gracefully to the right and left as he entered, that the stupid little
schoolboy whispered to Mr. Suessmann, next whom he happened to be
standing: "What a pity it is that it's all settled, that fellow would
have done capitally." Whereupon Mr. Suessmann looked at the boy
compassionately, and then turning to Braesig who was standing on his
other side asked: "Do you know, sir, that they've chosen me to be
leader of the dance at our fraternity ball, which is to be the day
after to-morrow?" Braesig was on the point of telling him that he would
be a fool if he accepted the position, for Kurz would discharge him at
once if he did, but at that very moment the bride and bridegroom came
in.
Rudolph was a very handsome bridegroom. His usually merry smile had
given place to an expression of serious gravity, and you could see in
his brown eyes a firm determination to fight his wife's battles
gallantly as became a good husband. Yes, he was a handsome bridegroom,
and when does a man ever look better than when he enters the battle of
life full of courage and hope. Who could blame his mother for going up
to him and kissing him, stroking his brown curls, and secretly pulling
his cuffs a little further down over his hands, that they might be
better seen?
And Mina! Mina looked for all the world like a rosy apple lying on a
silver plate surrounded by its green leaves as she stood there in her
white satin gown and myrtle wreath. Outwardly she was calm and still,
but inwardly her heart beat faster than usual, and was filled with hope
and deep happiness at the thought that before Godfrey gave his address,
she and Rudolph would have been married. Mrs. Nuessler wept silently and
whispered to Braesig: "I can't help it, for she is my last, my
youngest." Braesig looked at her affectionately, and said: "Courage Mrs.
Nuessler, it'll soon be over." Then going to Louisa Hawermann, he made
her a bow, and said: "If you are ready, Miss Hawermann, we had better
take our places." On all other occasions he called her "Louie," but he
was groomsman to-day and must address the bridesmaid with whom he had
to stand more distantly than the girl he had known from her babyhood.
Fred Triddelfitz and Anna made the other groomsman and bridesmaid. Then
Kurz and the rector placed themselves one on each side of Rudolph, and
young Joseph was pushed and shoved with great difficulty up to Mina,
while Hawermann had already taken his place at her other side. When
this was done the procession moved off to Schulz's temple of art, where
they found Godfrey standing behind a white and green altar ready to
begin Lina's address.
I know that people have begun to think that a marriage in a house is
hardly a marriage at all, and that a church is the proper place for
such things. I have nothing to say against these notions, because I
myself was married in church even then; my wife being a clergyman's
daughter, nothing else would have been suitable; but in one respect at
least the marriage ceremony was better then, than it is now. We had
nothing in our service that could make anyone feel uncomfortable. I
think that it is unnecessary to read such passages as I allude to
simply because they are in the Bible. If that argument were to hold
good, the parsons might just as well read the Song of Solomon, for it
is also in the Bible. I believe that if Christ were to come into the
world again. He would have mercy on innocent children and would drive
many things that are now tolerated, out of His temple. If such teaching
would be most pernicious from the lips of a mother or even from those
of a saintly priest, what can it be when it proceeds from a young man
who has just preached his first sermon, and entered on the duties of
the living to which he has been appointed, immediately after passing
from the gay life of a student at one of the great universities.
Well, as I said before, the ecclesiastical court had not then appointed
a certain form of address to be used at weddings, so that the old
fashion still prevailed, and young people were married in the same way
as their parents had been before them. Christian Schult says that the
new mode had come in even then, but certainly Godfrey did not know of
it, and even if he had, Lina would never have allowed him to use it.
Lina was a married woman, and she would not have consented to let her
husband make a laughing stock of himself in the eyes of the rich, fat,
drowsy Nuessler-faction, or in those of the Rahnstaedt tradesmen and
school-boys. She would not have allowed her twin-sister's wedding-day
to be spoilt by the orders of any consistory, although she was the most
zealous parson's wife in the world, that is to say, after Mrs. Behrens,
who was still 'the nearest' in all such matters.
As soon as the marriage ceremony was concluded, the twins threw
themselves into each other's arms, and Rudolph embraced them both at
once, while Mrs. Nuessler, who was standing a little apart, looked at
them over the edge of her pocket handkerchief, and leant her head on
one side, as though she were listening to something above her--perhaps
it may have been to an angel's song. Then the fat, rich, drowsy
Nuesslers trooped up to offer their congratulations, and young Joseph
took up his stand amongst them and bowed and bowed as if he were the
principal person concerned, and were being married over again: "Uncle
Lewis," he said, "this is my Mina. Cousin Bill, this is our little
governess! What is to be done now, aunt Sophie?" After that, the men of
the Nuessler clan pressed forward in their bright coloured waistcoats,
with heavy gold chains attached to their watches, and after them came
the women with regular flower-pot caps, and tears dropping slowly from
their eyes, thus making it appear as if the flowers had been too much
watered, and so the extra amount of moisture was running out. Then the
men and women of Joseph's clan kissed and embraced Rudolph and Mina as
if to show them that they were ready to receive them into their rich,
fat, drowsy family, thereby making Kurz furious, for they barred his
way so effectually that he could not get near his new daughter-in-law,
and on this occasion his wife quite agreed with him, for she could not
get at her own son. The guests from Rahnstaedt forced their way as near
the bride and bridegroom as they could, and made their curtsies to them
from behind the Nuesslers, for they could do no more. Amongst these Fred
Triddelfitz and little Anna were to be seen, Fred, who had been
appointed commander of the dancing forces reared his tall slight figure
high above the rest, and behind him stood the rector's youngest pupil
ready to carry out as well as he could with his short body and black
cotton stockings, what Fred succeeded in doing with his long body and
black silk stockings. He was Fred's shadow, that is to say, his
noon-day shadow, which is always a short one.
Quite apart from these, four people were standing together without
making any attempt to join the throng round the bride and bridegroom,
for they had enough to do with themselves. These were Hawermann and his
daughter, uncle Braesig and Mrs. Behrens.--Louisa was leaning her head
upon her father's shoulder and looking up in his face. She looked as if
she had been long ill, and had now for the first time got out of her
sick-room into the fresh clear air, and as if the blue sky were telling
her to get better, get better; her father's face was so calm and happy
that it might easily be likened to the sky, from which sun, moon and
stars, rain and dew came to quicken and refresh her heart.--Right in
front of these stood Zachariah Braesig with his arms round little Mrs.
Behrens' round waist. His eyebrows were raised as high as they would
go, and he blew his nose energetically as he said: "My little Mina! My
little god-child! How happy she looks!" and every time one of the fat
old Nuesslers gave Mina a kiss, he bent down and kissed Mrs. Behrens, as
much as to imply, that he thought this would prevent any contamination
of his god-daughter by the foolish old Nuesslers with their wretched
worldly notions.--"You see I did it from such and such a motive," is
the excuse my servant, Lisette, whom I engaged when I came to live at
Eisenach, always makes when she is found fault with about anything, and
does not know what else to say. So Braesig kissed Mrs. Behrens, and she
let him do it and thought no harm, but when she saw aunt Sophie, who
used to be considered a sort of Venus amongst the Nuesslers, kiss
Rudolph two or three times, she was very much shocked, and when Braesig
was about to salute her again, she said: "You ought to be ashamed of
yourself, Braesig. What have I to do with you?"--Then Braesig drew back
rather crestfallen, and said: "Don't take it ill of me, Mrs. Behrens,
my feelings ran away with me." After that he led Mrs. Behrens to
Hawermann, and said: "Now, Charles, you ought to look after this lady.
Louisa is my bridesmaid, for I'm a bachelor, and as both you and Mrs.
Behrens have been married already, you'll go very well together."
Mina was holding Rudolph's hand, and as soon as she saw her oldest and
dearest friends standing aside, unable to speak to her, she tried to
force her way through the crowd of closely packed rich, fat, drowsy
Nuessler sandbags, and through the wooden palisades formed by the
serried ranks of school-boys and shopmen, and so get at her friends,
but all in vain. As soon, however, as her husband saw her fruitless
efforts, he placed himself in front of her, pushed aside sandbag number
one, in the person of rich uncle Lewis, and sandbag number two, in that
of the wit, cousin Bill; then seizing the longest post of the palisade,
Fred Triddelfitz himself, he gently lifted him out of the way and
placed his school-boy shadow behind him, and so having made a breech in
the fortifications, he brought his new wife safely beyond the
battlements to where she received warm congratulations coming from the
heart instead of from flower-pots, brilliant waistcoats and heavy gold
watch-chains. After Mrs. Nuessler had embraced and blessed her children,
Rudolph passed his hand across his eyes, and then said: "Suppose we all
go out into the garden for a little."--Schulz, the carpenter, who was
standing near, heard what he said, and backed him up by exclaiming:
"Quite right! Out! out! Go out all of you. We're going to lay the
tables." And beginning with the Nuesslers, he set to work to clear the
room.
When our party--I say _our_--were walking past the celebrated arbour,
Braesig pointed to the cherry-tree, and said: "You must always keep this
tree, Mina, as a memorandum and a sign, for your future was decided
through it and through me, and as we are talking of signs, Mina, just
bring me one of those blue flowers, look there's a nice one." When
Mina had gone to get it, uncle Braesig asked: "Have you always
remembered what I said to you before, when I sent Mina for one of those
flowers?"--Rudolph said that he had, and Braesig after looking at him
scrutinizingly from head to foot, replied: "I believe you."--At this
moment Mina returned with the flower, and Braesig taking it from her,
said: "Thank you, Mina. Now I'll give you my wedding present," at the
same time pulling a thick old black pocket-book out of his brown coat
pocket. He turned over a number of old milk and corn accounts without
finding what he wanted, but at length in the last division of the
pocket-book he discovered a dried flower which he took out, and said:
"Look, my dear little god-daughter, this is the flower you gave me on
the day of your engagement, and it is the same as this," comparing the
two, "now if after long years of married life, Rudolph can give you
this second flower, you will have every right to say: 'I am a happy
woman.' I'll say no more, no more. And I have nothing more to give,
nothing more," so saying he walked away, and our party heard him
muttering: "Nothing but this memorandum. Rudolph's memorandum."--When
we next saw him, he was walking about with his sister, and her daughter
Lotta, and the two women were thanking and blessing him for all the
loving help and brotherly kindness he had shown them for many years.
Mrs. Nuessler now came up to us, and said: "Come away, friends,
everything is ready. But don't take it ill of me if I say that Joseph's
relations must be treated as our principal guests, and must sit next
the bride and bridegroom--for I can't hurt Joseph's feelings you
know--of course Kurz and his wife must be up there too, for, as you
would say, Mrs. Behrens, they are 'the nearest'. And Godfrey and Lina
must be amongst them also, for it's Godfrey's right as parson, and
Lina's as Mina's twin sister, and Joseph too, because he belongs to his
clan. But we, that's you, Mrs. Behrens, Charles, Louisa, and you,
Braesig, will sit at the other end of the table, and I'm sure that we'll
enjoy ourselves."--"_Aller bon hour!_" said Braesig, "but where's Mr.
Suessmann, I must have a little talk with him about our fraternity
ball."--"Oh dear! The poor man is sitting in our back room. He and
Triddelfitz were trying which could jump best over a heap of thorn
branches, when he fell and split part of his clothing, so that
Christian had to provide him with an old pair of blue trousers
belonging to Joseph. He absolutely refuses to show his face in day
light, and is hiding away until the evening, when he hopes that the
unsuitableness of his dress will not be noticed."--"And that's the man
who thinks he can lead the dances at our ball!" said Braesig, as he
followed the rest of our party into the hall.
The company all sat down to table in the temple of art, and Mrs.
Nuessler's neat maid-servants went about in their pointed caps and white
aprons--for it was not the custom in those days to hire waiters in
shabby black coats, white neckcloths, and white cotton gloves, the
thumbs of which somehow always get covered with gravy while the man is
bringing in the roast. The fat Nuesslers eat as much as if they were
possessed by a party of French commissioners of supply, such as we used
to have quartered on us in 1812, and were required to provision an army
for the invasion of Russia. As soon as the fricassees and other such
dishes were finished, they attacked the puddings gallantly, and after
they had done their duty by them, they had roast pigeons and asparagus,
at the same time expressing great surprise that the pigeons in
Mecklenburg were not as large as geese, and complaining of the
asparagus not being as thick as hop-poles. When the roast was brought
in, cousin Bill, the wit of the Nuessler clan, rose, struck his glass to
enforce silence, shouted, "Hush!" three times, took up his wine glass,
and said: "Let us drink to the health of old General Knoosymong (que
nous aimons) who used to be a very celebrated personage, and whose
fame is still great amongst, &c.," as he said this he looked at the
young couple, and winked his left eye at Mina, and his right eye at
Rudolph. Then uncle Lewis--don't misunderstand me; it was _rich_ uncle
Lewis--stood up, and said: "What a wag you are, William!" and Braesig
whispered to Mrs. Behrens, "I know that you dislike the Reform-club,
but I assure you that our wit, the journeyman shoemaker, can make much
better jokes than that."--Poor Mrs. Nuessler was sitting on thorns, for
she was afraid lest Joseph should now begin to make a speech; but
Joseph refrained from doing so; he intended to keep his speech for the
benefit of the neighbourhood, and not to throw it away on the world at
large, so he only said: "Give Lewis another glass of wine, Bill. Lewis,
give Bill another glass of wine."--When the Bowl[5] was brought in, and
the champagne, the fat old Nuesslers wishing to be polite said that they
had some of the same quality in their own cellars at home, and Freddy
Triddelfitz, the shopmen and school-boys drank one glass after another
to pass the time. The left wing of the army of wedding guests which was
composed of the dancers who had come from Rahnstaedt in the waggons now
became so excited that the little member of the women's council, told
their commander, Fred Triddelfitz, that if he went against the enemy
after that fashion he would soon have to beat a retreat, and just as he
was making arrangements to prevent the necessity of such a retreat, he,
and all present were startled by an unexpected disturbance.--Nay, only
think how often an unconscious animal is inspired with a happy
thought!--Bolster--Joseph's Bolster--our old friend Bolster, who had
been adorned for the occasion by Christian with a green wreath round
his neck, and another round his tail, jumped upon the white and green
altar which was standing immediately behind the bride and bridegroom,
and at which Godfrey and Lina had performed the ceremony. He looked at
the newly married couple with his honest old autocratic face, licked
Mina with his tongue and slapped Rudolph on the cheek with his tail,
and then turning round licked Rudolph and slapped Mina. When he had
done this, the old dog sat down on the altar with quiet dignity, and
looked round the room with a satisfied air as much as to say that he
was pleased with everybody, and intended to remain where he was till
the end of the feast.--Suddenly Joseph sprang to his feet, exclaiming:
"For shame. Bolster! Down! down!"--Uncle Braesig jumped up, and cried:
"Joseph, how dare you treat your best friend so ill on this solemn
occasion!" then turning to Godfrey, he added: "Reverend Sir, let
Bolster remain where he is. The dog is showing his love on a Christian
altar, and he knows it, although you don't. Bolster is a wise dog. I
know it as a fact, for when I was showing my love up in a cherry-tree,
he showed his by lying under the bench in the arbour. Reverend Sir,
Bolster may be cited as a witness to the marriage, because he was
present when they engaged themselves to each other."--Godfrey grew pale
with indignation when he heard such horrible sentiments, but he did not
succeed in expressing his opinion, for the humming and buzzing around
him had now grown deafening, as everyone had seized the opportunity of
rising from table and pushing back their chairs, amid shouts of "out!
out!" from Schulz, the carpenter. In the confusion that ensued the
rector's youngest pupil tripped over a heap of Mrs. Nuessler's best
porcelain plates, which were immediately scattered in fragments
throughout the room. He stood looking at the work of destruction, and
groping in his waistcoat pocket for some treasure the presence of which
was unknown to himself as to others; when Mrs. Nuessler passed by and
saw the broken plates, he blushed and said that he would gladly pay for
the damage he had done, but he didn't happen to have enough money with
him. Mrs. Nuessler smiled, patted him kindly on the shoulder, and said:
"That's a good joke! But I must punish you," and taking him by the hand
she led him to Braesig's niece, Lotta, saying: "You must dance a great
deal to-night to make up for my broken plates."--He paid his debt
honourably by dancing his best.
Then the ball began. First of all there was the polonaise--Fred
Triddelfitz led, for Mr. Suessmann had not yet made his appearance. And
where did he lead the dancers. Through the hall, through the garden,
the kitchen, the entrance hall, the parlour, Mrs. Nuessler's bedroom,
and back again through part of the garden to the hall, so that Joseph's
fat relatives were puffing and blowing for want of breath, and Braesig
called out to ask why they had not gone through the farm-yard when Mr.
Triddelfitz seemed so anxious to take them a long round. Even Joseph
took part in this dance, and the only difference between him and the
other men was that he had two partners instead of one, for he had aunt
Sophie on one side and Bolster on the other, and he looked, when seen
between aunt Sophie's flower-pot and Bolster's garlands, either like a
pearl set in gold, or an ass between two bundles of hay. When the
polonaise had come to an end, David Berger played a slow waltz to the
tune of: "Du, du liegst mir am Herzen, Du, du liegst mir im Sinn," and
in the distance another band was heard playing: "Nuse Katt hett negen
Jung'n." Then, when he went on to the lines: "Du, du machst mir viel
Schmerzen, Weisst ja wie gut ich dir bin," there came from the
distance: "Mina den Kater, smit'n in't water," and so on, for Mrs.
Nuessler had arranged that the servants and villagers should dance in
the dairy. The musicians there were old Hartloff, who had only one eye,
Wichmann, a carpenter, Ruehrdanz, the weaver, and several others.
Hartloff had given each of his followers a large tumbler of beer, at
the same time entreating them to do their best, and not to allow
themselves to be beaten by these town musicians, who if the truth were
known could not hold a candle to them, so they played their best, and
Christian the coachman kept them well supplied with beer. Sometime
afterwards Rudolph and Mina came into the dairy and danced, Mina with
Christian, and Rudolph with the cook. The overseer cheered the bride
and bridegroom, and Hartloff fiddled away so vehemently that Ruehrdanz
and his clarionette could not possibly keep up with him, and were at
last obliged to give up the attempt. When Rudolph and Mina had left
them. Christian and the cook went behind the door and talked. "Well,
Dolly," said Christian, "what must be, must be!"--"Why, Christian,
whatever's the matter with you?"--"Ah, Dolly, you and I are engaged,
and what's right for one, can't be wrong for another; we must go to
them, they can't take it ill of us if we do." Then Dolly said: she felt
a little shy, but if she went, she would dance with Mr. Braesig, for she
knew him. And Christian answered that he would dance with the mistress.
No one thought it in the least strange, when a few minutes later,
Christian took his place in the temple of art with Mrs. Nuessler as his
partner, while Braesig danced with Dolly. Such things could be done in
those days, and it is a great pity that they cannot be done now--in
many places, at least. Joy and sorrow ought both to bring rich and poor
together. Why does the master, who on his death-bed wishes to be
followed to the grave by his sorrowing dependents, not also desire to
share his joy with them.
Mina's wedding day was one of great happiness to all at Rexow, but it
would be quite impossible to enter into a detailed account of
everything that was done. This at least I can testify that Fred
Triddelfitz remained leader of all the dances; and that Anna often
blushed when she was his partner, and he generally was able to persuade
her to dance with him. Between the dances Anna used to take refuge with
Louisa as though she felt more comfortable when under her protection. I
know that the little schoolboy missed two dances because he had
involved himself in an arithmetical puzzle, as to how much his
predecessor got as schoolmaster and whether he was sacristan as well.
Whether he was very poor, whether he had taken a lease of the
shoemaker's potato plot, which cost so much the square pole, and
lastly, whether if he himself attained to such a position, rich uncle
Braesig would help him a little, so that he might marry Lotta, whose
beautiful blue eyes and golden hair had captivated him. He cast one or
two hasty glances at his new black dress coat for which he had already
paid Kurz one third of the price on account. I know that the only
unhappy man in the whole company was Mr. Suessmann, and he was only
unhappy when he happened to look down and see Joseph's old worn out
blue trousers.
Yes, that was a happy day, but everything comes to an end. The little
fairies, shopmen, schoolboys, and dancers drove home with David Berger
and the dance music. The old people had gone earlier. Then Joseph took
all the men of his clan and showed them their rooms, while Mrs. Nuessler
did the same for the women. Every married woman was given a comfortable
bed, but the unmarried ones, with Aunt Sophie at their head, were put
into the large blue room which they had to share with each other.