Conrad von Bolanden
The Progressionists, and Angela.
Just then a spare little man appeared in the door. His yellowish, sickly complexion gave evidence that he was employed in the sulphurating of straw. At sight of the commander the sulphur-hued little man shrank back, but his startled look did not escape the restless eye of Mr. Schwefel. He beckoned to the laborer.
"Have you selected your ticket, Leicht?"
"Yes, sir."
"Let me see the ticket."
The man obeyed reluctantly. Scarcely had Schwefel got a glimpse of the paper when his brows gathered darkly.
"What means this? Have you selected the yellow ticket and not the green one?"
Leicht hung his head. He thought of the consequences of this detection, of his four small children, of want of employment, of hunger and bitter need-he was almost beside himself.
"If you vote for the priests, you may get your bread from the priests," said Schwefel. "The moment you hand that ticket to the commissary, you may consider yourself discharged from my employ." With this he angrily turned his back upon the man. Leicht did not reach in his ticket to the commissary. Staggering out of the hall, he stood bewildered hear the railing of the steps, and stared vaguely upon the men who were coming and going. Spitzkopf slipped up to him.
"What were you thinking about, man?" asked he reproachfully. "Mr. Schwefel is furious-you are ruined. Sheer stupidity, nothing but stupidity in you to wish to vote in opposition to the pleasure of the man from whom you get your bread and meat! Not only that, but you have insulted the whole community, for you have chosen to vote against progress when all the town is in favor of progress. You will be put on the spotted list, and the upshot will be that you will not get employment in any factory in town. Do you want to die of hunger, man-do you want your children to die of hunger?"
"You are right-I am ruined," said the laborer listlessly. "I couldn't bring myself to write Shund's name because he reduced my brother-in-law to beggary-this is what made me select the yellow ticket."
"You are a fool. Were Mr. Schwefel to recommend the devil, your duty would be to vote for the devil. What need you care who is on the ticket? You have only to write the names on the ticket-nothing more than that. Do you think progress would nominate men that are unfit-men who would not promote the interests of the state, who would not further the cause of humanity, civilization, and liberty? You are a fool for not voting for what is best for yourself."
"I am sorry now, but it's too late." sighed Leicht. "I wouldn't have thought, either, that Mr. Schwefel would get angry because a man wanted to vote to the best of his judgment."
"There you are prating sillily again. Best of your judgment! – you mustn't have any judgment. Leave it to others to judge; they have more brains, more sense, more knowledge than you. Progress does the thinking: our place is to blindly follow its directions."
"But, Mr. Spitzkopf, mine is only the vote of a poor man; and what matters such a vote?"
"There is your want of sense again. We are living in a state that enjoys liberty. We are living in an age of intelligence, of moral advancement, of civilization and knowledge, in a word, we are living in an age of progress; and in an age of this sort the vote of a poor man is worth as much as that of a rich man."
"If only I had it to do over! I would give my right hand to have it to do over!"
"You can repair the mischief if you want."
"Instruct me how, Mr. Spitzkopf; please tell me how!"
"Very well, I will do my best. As you acted from thoughtlessness and no bad intention, doubtless Mr. Schwefel will suffer himself to be propitiated. Go down into the court, and wait till I come. I shall get you another ticket; you will then vote for progress, and all will be satisfactory."
"I am a thousand times obliged to you, Mr. Spitzkopf-a thousand times obliged!"
The agent went back to the hall. Leicht descended to the courtyard, where he found a ring of timid operators like himself surrounding the sturdy Holt. They were talking in an undertone. As often as a progressionist drew near, their conversation was hushed altogether. Holt's voice alone resounded loudly through the court, and his huge strong hands were cutting the air in animated gesticulations.
"This is not a free election; it is one of compulsion and violence," cried he. "Every factoryman is compelled to vote as his employer dictates, and should he refuse the employer discharges him from the work. Is not this most despicable tyranny! And these very tyrants of progress are perpetually prating about liberty, independence, civilization! That's a precious sort of liberty indeed!"
"A man belonging to the ultramontane party cannot walk the streets to-day without being hooted and insulted," said another. "Even up yonder in the hall, those gentlemen who are considered so cultivated stick their heads together and laugh scornfully when one of us draws near."
"That's so-that's so, I have myself seen it," cried Holt. "Those well-bred gentlemen show their teeth like ferocious dogs whenever they see a yellow ticket or an ultramontane. I say, Leicht, has anything happened you? You look wretched!" Leicht drew near and related what had occurred. The honest Holt's eyes gleamed like coals of fire.
"There's another piece of tyranny for you," cried he. "Leicht, my poor fellow, I fancy I see in you a slave of Schwefel's. From dawn till late you are compelled to toil for the curmudgeon, Sundays not excepted. Your church is the factory, your religion working in straw, and your God is your sovereign master Schwefel. You are ruining your health amid the stench of brimstone, and not so much as the liberty of voting as you think fit is allowed you. It's just as I tell you-you factorymen are slaves. How strangely things go on in the world! In America slavery has been abolished; but lo! here in Europe it is blooming as freshly as trees in the month of May. But mark my word, friends, the fruit is deadly; and when once it will have ripened, the great God of heaven will shake it from the trees, and the generation that planted the trees will have to eat the bitter fruit."
Leicht shunned the society of the ultramontanes and stole away. Presently Spitzkopf appeared with the ticket.
"Your ticket is filled out. Come and sign your name to it." Schwefel was again standing near the entrance, and he again beckoned the laborer to approach. "I am pacified. You may now continue working for me."
Carl and Seraphin returned to the Palais Greifmann. Louise received them with numerous questions. The banker related what had passed; Gerlach strode restlessly through the apartment.
"The most curious spectacle must have been yourself," said the young lady. "Just fancy you on the rostrum at the 'Key of Heaven'! And very likely the ungrateful ultramontanes would not so much as applaud."
"Beg pardon, they did, miss!" assured Seraphin. "They applauded and cried bravo."
"Really? Then I am proud of a brother whose maiden speech produced such marvellous effects. May be we shall read of it in the daily paper. Everybody will be surprised to hear of the banker Greifmann making a speech at the 'Key of Heaven.'" Carl perceived the irony and stroked his forehead.
"But what can you be pondering over, Mr. Seraphin?" cried she to him. "Since returning from the turmoil of the election, you seem unable to keep quiet." He seated himself at her side, and was soon under the spell of her magical attractions.
"My head is dizzy and my brain confused," said he. "On every hand I see nothing but revolt against moral obligation, sacrilegious disregard of the most sacred rights of man. The hubbub still resounds in my ears, and my imagination still sees those fat men at the table with their slaveholder look-the white slaves doing their masters' bidding-the completest subjugation in an age of enlightenment-all this presents itself to me in the most repulsive and lamentable guise."
"You must drive those horrible phantoms from your mind," replied Louise.
"They are not phantoms, but the most fearful reality."
"They are phantoms, Mr. Seraphin, so far as your feelings exaggerate the evils. Those factory serfs have no reason to complain. There is nothing to be done but to put up with a situation that has spontaneously developed itself. It is useless to grow impatient because difference of rank between masters and servants is an unavoidable evil upon earth." A servant entered to call them to dinner.
At her side he gradually became more cheerful. The brightness of her eyes dispelled his depression, and her delicate arts put a spell upon his young, inexperienced heart. And when, at the end of the meal, they were sipping delicious wine, and her beautiful lips lisped the customary health, the subdued tenderness he had been feeling suddenly expanded into a strong passion.
"After you will have done justice to your diary," said she at parting, "we shall take a drive, and then go to the opera."
Instead of going to his room, Seraphin went into the garden. He almost forgot the occurrences of the day in musing on the inexplicable behavior of Louise. Again she had not uttered a word of condemnation of the execrable doings of progress, and it grieved him deeply. A suspicion flitted across his mind that perhaps Louise was infected with the frivolous and pernicious spirit of the age, but he immediately stifled the terrible suggestion as he would have hastened to crush a viper that he might have seen on the path of the beautiful lady. He preferred to believe that she suppressed her feelings of disgust out of regard for his presence, that she wisely avoided pouring oil upon the flames of his own indignation. Had she not exerted herself to dispel his sombre reflections? He was thus espousing the side of passion against the appalling truth that was beginning faintly to dawn upon his anxious mind.
But soon the spell was to be broken, and duty was to confront him with the alternative of either giving up Louise, or defying the stern demands of his conscience.
The brother and sister, thinking their guest engaged with his diary, walked into the garden. They directed their steps towards the arbor where Gerlach had seated himself.
He was only roused to consciousness of their proximity by the unusually loud and excited tone in which Louise spoke. He could not be mistaken; it was the young lady's voice-but oh! the import of her words. He looked through an opening in the foliage, and sat thunderstruck.
"You have been attempting to guide Gerlach's overexalted spirit into a more rational way of thinking, but the very opposite seems to be the result. Intercourse with the son of a strait-laced mother is infecting you with sympathy for ultramontanism. Your speech to-day," continued she caustically, "in yon obscure meeting is the subject of the talk of the town. I am afraid you have made yourself ridiculous in the minds of all cultivated people. The respectability of our family has suffered."
"Of our family?" echoed he, perplexed.
"We are compromitted," continued she with excitement. "You have given our enemies occasion to set us down for members of a party who stupidly oppose the onward march of civilization."
"Cease your philippic," broke in the brother angrily. "Bitterness is an unmerited return for my efforts to serve you."
"To serve me?"
"Yes, to serve you. The disturbing of that meeting made a very unfavorable impression on your intended. He scorned the noisy mob, and was roused by what, from his point of view, could not pass for anything better than unpardonable impudence. To me it might have been a matter of indifference whether your intended was pleased or displeased with the fearless conduct of progress. But as I knew both you and the family felt disposed to base the happiness of your life on his couple of millions, as moreover I feared my silence might be interpreted by the shortsighted young gentleman for complicity in progressionist ideas, I was forced to disown the disorderly proceeding. In so doing I have not derogated one iota from the spirit of the times; on the contrary, I have bound a heavy wreath about the brow of glorious humanity."
"But you have pardoned yourself too easily," proceeded she, unappeased. "The very first word uttered by a Greifmann in that benighted assembly was a stain on the fair fame of our family. We shall be an object of contempt in every circle. 'The Greifmanns have turned ultramontanes because Gerlach would have refused the young lady's hand had they not changed their creed,' is what will be prated in society. A flood of derision and sarcasm will be let loose upon us. I an ultramontane?" cried she, growing more fierce; "I caught in the meshes of religious fanaticism? I accept the Syllabus-believe in the Prophet of Nazareth? Oh! I could sink into the earth on account of this disgrace! Did I for an instant doubt that Seraphin may be redeemed from superstition and fanaticism, I would renounce my union with him-I would spurn the tempting enjoyments of wealth, so much do I hate silly credulity."
Seraphin glanced at her through the gap in the foliage. Not six paces from him, with her face turned in his direction, stood the infuriate beauty. How changed her countenance! The features, habitually so delicate and bright, now looked absolutely hideous, the brows were fiercely knit, and hatred poured like streams of fire from her eyes. Sentiments hitherto skilfully concealed had taken visible shape, ugly and repulsive to the view of the innocent youth. His noble spirit revolted at so much hypocrisy and falsehood. What occurred before him was at once so monstrous and so overwhelming that he did not for an instant consider that in case they entered the arbor he would be discovered. He was not discovered, however. Louise and Carl retraced their steps. For a short while the voice of Louise was still audible, then silence reigned in the garden.
Seraphin rose from his seat. There was a sad earnestness in his face, and the vanishing traces of deep pain, which however were soon superseded by a noble indignation.
"I have beheld the genuine Louise, and I thank God for it. It is as I feared, Louise is a progressionist, an infidel that considers it disgraceful to believe in the Redeemer. Out upon such degeneracy! She hates light, and how hideous this hatred makes her. Not a feature was left of the charming, smiling, winning Louise. Good God! how horrible had her real character remained unknown until after we were married! Chained for life to the bitter enemy of everything that I hold dear and venerate as holy-think of it! With eyes bandaged, I was but two paces from an abyss that resembles hell-thank God! the bandage has fallen-I see the abyss, and shudder.
"'The ultramontane Seraphin'-'the fanatical Gerlach'-'the shortsighted Gerlach,' whose fortune the young lady covets that she may pass her life in enjoyment-a heartless girl, in whom there is not a spark of love for her intended husband-how base!
"'Ultramontane'? – 'fanatical'? – yes! 'Shortsighted?' by no means. One would need the suspicious eyes of progress to see through the hypocrisy of this lady and her brother-a simple, trusting spirit like mine cannot penetrate such darkness. At any rate, they shall not find me weak. The little flame that was beginning to burn within my heart has been for ever extinguished by her unhallowed lips. She might now present herself in the garb of an angel, and muster up every seductive art of womanhood, 'twould not avail; I have had an insight into her real character, and giving her up costs me not a pang. It is not hollow appearances that determine the worth of woman, but moral excellence, beautiful virtues springing from a heart vivified by faith. No, giving her up shall not cost me one regretful throb."
He hastened from the garden to his room and rang the bell.
"Pack my trunks this very day, John," said he to his servant. "Tomorrow we shall be off."
He then entered in his diary a circumstantial account of the unmasked beauty. He also dwelt at length upon the painful shock his heart experienced when the bright and beautiful creature he had considered Louise to be suddenly vanished before his soul. As he was finishing the last line, John reappeared with a telegraphic despatch. He read it, and was stunned.
"Meet your father at the train this evening." He looked at the concise despatch, and fancied he saw his father's stern and threatening countenance.
The contemplated match had for several years been regarded by the families of Gerlach and Greifmann as a fixed fact. Seraphin was aware how stubbornly his father adhered to a project that he had once set his mind upon. Here now, just as the union had became impossible and as the youth was about to free himself for ever from an engagement that was destructive of his happiness, the uncompromising sire had to appear to enforce unconditional obedience to his will. A fearful contest awaited Seraphin, unequal and painful; for a son, accustomed from childhood to revere and obey his parents, was to maintain this contest against his own father. Seraphin paced the room and wrung his hands in anguish.
CHAPTER VIII.
AN ULTRAMONTANE SON
Greifmann and Gerlach had driven to the railway station. The express train thundered along. As the doors of the carriages flew open, Seraphin peered through them with eyes full of eager joy. He thought no more of the fate that threatened him as the sequel of his father's arrival; his youthful heart exulted solely in the anticipation of the meeting. A tall, broad-shouldered gentleman, with severe features and tanned complexion, alighted from a coupé. It was Mr. Conrad Gerlach. Seraphin threw his arms around his father's neck and kissed him. The banker made a polite bow to the wealthiest landed proprietor of the country, in return for which Mr. Conrad bestowed on him a cordial shake of the hand.
"Has your father returned?"
"He cannot possibly reach home before September," answered the banker. The traveller stepped for a moment into the luggage-room. The gentlemen then drove away to the Palais Greifmann. During the ride, the conversation was not very animated. Conrad's curt, grave manner and keen look, indicative of a mind always hard at work, imposed reserve, and rapidly dampened his son's ingenuous burst of joy. Seraphin cast a searching glance upon that severe countenance, saw no change from its stern look of authority, and his heart sank before the appalling alternative of either sacrificing the happiness of his life to his father's favorite project, or of opposing his will and braving the consequences of such daring. Yet he wavered but an instant in the resolution to which he had been driven by necessity, and which, it was plain from the lines of his countenance, he had manhood enough to abide by.
Mr. Conrad maintained his reserve, and asked but few questions. Even Carl, habitually profuse, studied brevity in his answers, as he knew from experience that Gerlach, Senior, was singularly averse to the use of many words.
"How is business?"
"Very dull, sir; the times are hard."
"Did you sustain any losses through the failures that have recently taken place in town?"
"Not a farthing. We had several thousands with Wendel, but fortunately drew them out before he failed."
"Very prudent. Has your father entered into any new connections in the course of his travels?"
"Several, that promise fairly."
"Is Louise well?"
"Her health is as good as could be wished."
"General prosperity, then, I see, for you both look cheerful, and Seraphin is as blooming as a clover field.
"How is dear mother?"
"Quite well. She misses her only child. She sends much love."
The carriage drew up at the gate. The young lady was awaiting the millionaire at the bottom of the steps. While greetings were exchanged between them, a faint tinge of warmth could be noticed on the cold features of the land-owner. A smile formed about his mouth, his piercing eyes glanced for an instant at Seraphin, and instantly the smile was eclipsed under the cloud of an unwelcome discovery.
"I am on my way to the industrial exhibition," said he, "and I thought I would pay you a visit in passing. I wish you not to put yourself to any inconvenience, my dear Louise. You will have the goodness to make me a little tea, this evening, which we shall sip together."
"I am overjoyed at your visit, and yet I am sorry, too."
"Sorry! Why so?"
"Because you are in such a hurry."
"It cannot be helped, my child. I am overwhelmed with work. Harvest has commenced; no less than six hundred hands are in the fields, and I am obliged to go to the exhibition. I must see and test some new machinery which is said to be of wonderful power."
"Well, then, you will at least spare us a few days on your return?"
"A few days! You city people place no value on time. We of the country economize seconds. Without a thought you squander in idleness what cannot be recalled."
"You are a greater rigorist than ever," chided she, smiling.
"Because, my child, I am getting older. Seraphin, I wish to speak a word with you before tea."
The two retired to the apartments which for years Mr. Conrad was accustomed to occupy whenever he visited the Palais Greifmann.
"The old man still maintains his characteristic vigor," said Louise. "His face is at all times like a problem in arithmetic, and in place of a heart he carries an accurate estimate of the yield of his farms. His is a cold, repelling nature."
"But strictly honest, and alive to gain," added Carl. "In ten years more he will have completed his third million. I am glad he came; the marriage project is progressing towards a final arrangement. He is now having a talk with Seraphin; tomorrow, as you will see, the bashful young gentleman, in obedience to the command of his father, will present himself to offer you his heart, and ask yours in return."
"A free heart for an enslaved one," said she jestingly. "Were there no hope of ennobling that heart, of freeing it from the absurdities with which it is encrusted, I declare solemnly I would not accept it for three millions. But Seraphin is capable of being improved. His eye will not close itself against modern enlightenment. Servility of conscience and a baneful fear of God cannot have entirely extinguished his sense of liberty."
"I have never set a very high estimate on the pluck and moral force of religious people," declared Greifmann. "They are a craven set, who are pious merely because they are afraid of hell. When a passion gets possession of them, the impotence of their religious frenzy at once becomes manifest. They fall an easy prey to the impulses of nature, and the supernatural fails to come to the rescue. It would be vain for Seraphin to try to give up the unbelieving Louise, whom his strait-laced faith makes it his duty to avoid. He has fallen a victim to your fascinations; all the Gospel of the Jew of Nazareth, together with all the sacraments and unctions of the church, could not loose the coils with which you have encircled him."
In this scornful tone did Carl Greifmann speak of the heroism of virtue and of the energy of faith, like a blind man discoursing about colors. He little suspected that it is just the power of religion that produces characters, and that, on this very account, in an irreligious age, characters of a noble type are so rarely met with; the warmth of faith is not in them.
"Mr. Schwefel desires to speak a word with you," said a servant who appeared at the door.
The banker nodded assent.
"I ask your pardon for troubling you at so unseasonable an hour," began the leader, after bowing lowly several times. "The subject is urgent, and must be settled without delay. But, by the way, I must first give you the good news: Mr. Shund is elected by an overwhelming majority, and Progress is victorious in every ward."
"That is what I looked for," answered the banker, with an air of satisfaction. "I told you whatever Cæsar, Antony, and Lepidus command, must be done."
"I am just from a meeting at which some important resolutions have been offered and adopted," continued the leader. "The strongest prop of ultramontanism is the present system of educating youth. Education must, therefore, be taken out of the hands of the priests. But the change will have to be brought about gradually and with caution. We have decided to make a beginning by introducing common schools. A vote of the people is to be taken on the measure, and, on the last day of voting, a grand barbecue is to be given to celebrate our triumph over the accursed slavery of religious symbols. The ground chosen by the chief-magistrate for the celebration is the common near the Red Tower, but the space is not large enough, and we will need your meadow adjoining it to accommodate the crowd. I am commissioned by the magistrate to request you to throw open the meadow for the occasion."
The banker, believing the request prejudicial to his private interests, looked rather unenthusiastic. Louise, who had been busy with the teapot, had heard every word of the conversation, and the new educational scheme had won her cordial approval. Seeing her brother hesitated, she flew to the rescue:
"We are ready and happy to make any sacrifice in the interest of education and progress."
"I am not sure that it is competent for me in the present instance to grant the desired permission," replied Greifmann. "The grass would be destroyed, and perhaps the sod ruined for years. My father is away from home, and I would not like to take the responsibility of complying with his honor's wish."
"The city will hold itself liable for all damages," said Schwefel.
"Not at all!" interposed the young lady hastily. "Make use of the meadow without paying damages. If my brother refuses to assume the responsibility, I will take it upon my self. By wresting education from the clergy, who only cripple the intellect of youth, progress aims a death-blow at mental degradation. It is a glorious work, and one full of inestimable results that you gentlemen are beginning in the cause of humanity against ignorance and superstition. My father so heartily concurs in every undertaking that responds to the wants of the times, that I not only feel encouraged to make myself responsible for this concession, but am even sure that he would be angry if we refused. Do not hesitate to make use of the meadow, and from its flowers bind garlands about the temples of the goddess of liberty!"
The leader bowed reverently to the beautiful advocate of progress.
"In this case, there remains nothing else for me to do than to confirm my sister's decision," said Greifmann. "When is the celebration to take place?"
"On the 10th of August, the day of the deputy elections. It has been intentionally set for that day to impress on the delegates how genuine and right is the sentiment of our people."
"Very good," approved Greifmann.
"In the name of the chief-magistrate, I thank you for the offering you have so generously laid upon the shrine of humanity, and I shall hasten to inform the gentlemen before they adjourn that you have granted our request." And Schwefel withdrew from the gorgeously furnished apartment.
Meanwhile a fiery struggle was going on between Seraphin and his father. He had briefly related his experience at the Palais Greifmann; had even confessed his preference for Louise, and had, for the first time in his life, incurred his father's displeasure by mentioning the wager. And when he concluded by protesting that he could not marry Louise, Conrad's suppressed anger burst forth.
"Have you lost your senses, foolish boy? This marriage has been in contemplation for years; it has been coolly weighed and calculated. In all the country around, it is the only equal match possible. Louise's dower amounts to one million florins, the exact value of the noble estate of Hatzfurth, adjoining our possessions. You young people can occupy the chateau, I shall add another hundred acres to the land, together with a complete outfit of farming implements, and then you will have such a start as no ten proprietors in Germany can boast of."
Seraphin knew his father. All the old gentleman's thought and effort was concentrated on the management of his extensive possessions. For other subjects there was no room in the head and heart of the landholder. He barely complied with his religious duties. It is true, on Sundays Mr. Conrad attended church, but surrounded invariably by a motley swarm of worldly cares and speculations connected with farming. At Easter, he went to the sacraments, but usually among the last, and after being repeatedly reminded by his wife. He took no interest in progress, humanity, ultramontanism, and such other questions as vex the age, because to trouble himself about them would have interfered with his main purpose. He knew only his fields and woodlands-and God, in so far as his providence blessed him with bountiful harvests.
"What is the good of millions, father, if the very fundamental conditions of matrimonial peace are wanting?"
"What fundamental conditions?"
"Louise believes neither in God nor in revelation. She is an infidel."
"And you are a fanatic-a fanatic because of your one-sided education. Your mother has trained you as priests and monks are trained. During your childhood piety was very useful; it served as the prop to the young tree, causing it to grow up straight and develop itself into a vigorous stem. But you are now full-grown, and life makes other demands on the man than on the boy; therefore, with your fanaticism.
"To my dying hour I shall thank my mother for the care she has bestowed on the child, the boy, and the young man. If her pious spirit has given a right direction to my career, and watched faithfully over my steps, the untarnished record of the son cannot but rejoice the heart of the father-a record which is the undoubted product of religious training."
"You are a good son, and I am proud of you," accorded Mr. Conrad with candor. "Your mother, too, is a woman whose equal is not to be found. All this is very well. But, if Louise's city manners and free way of thinking scandalize you, you are sheerly narrow-minded. I have been noticing her for years, and have learned to value her industry and domestic virtues. She has not a particle of extravagance; on the contrary, she has a decided leaning towards economy and thrift. She will make an unexceptionable wife. Do you imagine, my son, my choice could be a blind one when I fixed upon Louise to share the property which, through years of toil, I have amassed by untiring energy?"
