CHAPTER XV.

  THE MARRIAGE PROCESSION TURNED TO STONE.

  The day of the fete had arrived. Roland rode on in front with Pranken,Sonnenkamp walked with the Banker, and Eric with Clodwig. The day wasclear and sunny, without being too warm. A brilliant company left theircarriages upon the hill, and strolled down; the wood-path to the valleybelow.

  Eric tried to lead the conversation to Sonnenkamp's receiving a titleof nobility, but Clodwig at once interrupted him, and, with a tone ofalmost parental authority, warned him against mixing himself up in anyway with that matter. For the first time, there was something inClodwig's look that Eric could not fathom. They went down the path insilence. A struggle was going on in Eric's mind, and in Clodwig alsowas a conflict of feeling concerning his young friend.

  As soon as they reached the valley, Sonnenkamp drew Eric aside, andasked what opinion Clodwig had expressed. Eric replied that he declinedspeaking at all upon the subject.

  "Thank you--thank you very much," ejaculated Sonnenkamp, with noapparent reason.

  By the side of the brook in Heilingthal Joseph had already spread thetable, and Sonnenkamp had only the addition of a few trifles tosuggest. The company assembled was most select, and all expressedsurprise and pleasure at the arrangements that had been made. The longlieutenant was particularly eloquent, and called up a singularexpression in Sonnenkamp's face by always, although he was no Austrian,addressing him as Herr von Sonnenkamp. A band of music, stationed inthe forest, played sweet and lively airs. A great point of interest wasthe group of rocks above where the company were seated, which, thestory ran, had been the living figures of a marriage procession turnedinto stone by spirits from the lower world.

  "What can have been the origin of this tradition?" asked Bella, turningto Eric.

  All gave polite attention, as Eric explained that this was one of themany variations of the Tannhauser tradition, and that nations in thedawn of civilization gave themselves up to a belief in the oldtraditions, which have their root in the ever haunting mystery of theorigin of the earth.

  Suddenly a forester's horn was heard, and rocks and valley becamethe theatre of a strange spectacle. A band of gipsy musicians,fantastically dressed, came suddenly to view, playing wildmelodies,--one young fellow in particular, with raven hair, leaping anddancing as he played upon his fiddle. Great praises were bestowed uponSonnenkamp for his ingenuity in always devising some new entertainment,and his protestations that this was a surprise even to himself, weretaken by some for truth, and by others as modesty. A rapid glance,exchanged between himself and Lootz, would have proved to any one whohad seen it his sincerity in disclaiming all knowledge of theexhibition.

  Bella encouraged the gipsies to wilder and wilder music, and, onlearning that their camp was pitched in the neighborhood, she went tovisit it, accompanied by Roland and some of the ladies. The absence ofProfessor Einsiedel she greatly lamented; as he had told her that thelanguage of the gipsies bore some connection with the Sanscrit. Ericwas much surprised at being able to say a few words to these strangepeople in their own tongue. Bella asked if there was no one in thecompany who could draw, and insisted on the long lieutenant beginning asketch at once of the gipsy camp, the wretched horse eating a wisp ofhay, the wagon, and the old women sitting about an open fire. A wild,impudent looking girl, who wore a large crinoline, and smoked a shortpipe in a free and easy fashion, soon became her especial favorite. Oneold hag, pointing her skinny hand at Roland, cried out:--

  "He shall be our king."

  "Can you not tell fortunes?" asked Bella, extending her hand to the oldwoman.

  "Not yours," said the gipsy. "But I want that one next you to show meher hand." With great reluctance, Manna consented. The old woman gave awild cry, and exclaimed:--

  "You have a lover by your side, but you must go across the water to gethim, and water must flow from your handsome black eyes. But then threesons and two daughters shall you have----"

  Here Manna tore her hand away; and walked on apart from the rest of theparty. Much as she despised this criminal sport, and little as thewhole company believed in it, it yet strangely affected her. CouldPranken have been the originator of it? It almost seemed so, and yet hewas innocent of the whole thing.

  "I should like to pronounce a ban," cried Bella.

  "What sort of one?" asked all present.

  "That for the next fifty years the gipsies should be under its power;that no poet should dare to sing of them."

  Manna went on with the others, but she and all around her seemed as ina dream. In her heart she felt that all this had happened, in orderthat the thought of it might one day serve to recall the world to hermind, when she had left it forever. It already seemed distant; amongthe things of the past. She stood in the life about her as not a partof it, and she was not of it, for the one thought was ever present toher of renouncing it altogether. This year in the world was her trialyear, and she rejoiced to think that several months of it were alreadygone.

  Bella, who prided herself upon her skill in reading character, oftenshook her head, and confessed to her brother that she could makenothing out of Manna; in vain she tried to win her confidence; therewas something at bottom which she could not fathom. Manna never spoketo Bella of her desire to return to the convent. Bella now put her armabout Manna's waist, and teased her about the three sons and twodaughters, but the girl only smiled as if the words had been addressedto some other person.

  On the brow of the hill, under the shade of the pine-trees, carpet'shad been spread for the ladies, where they rested, while the gentlemenstill sat at table, and, at the suggestion of the long lieutenant, whohad finished his sketch, passed round the wine.

  "Why are you not of the nobility?" asked the long lieutenant ofSonnenkamp.

  "Because Herr Sonnenkamp is a citizen," replied Clodwig.

  "Citizens can be made nobles when they have millions----"

  At an angry sign from Pranken the young man was here brought to asudden pause. The Cabinetsrath, however, thought it his duty to add, inconsideration of Clodwig's being an influential member of the Committeeon Orders, whose good opinion was therefore important:--

  "Truly, if nobleness of mind, great powers, beneficence, and worthof character raise one to the ranks of nobility, our Herr Sonnenkampis--will certainly become a nobleman."

  The long lieutenant considered himself a great wit, and wits are noteasily suppressed, even when they have not been drinking champagne; hetherefore exclaimed:--

  "Excellent--delicious! Count von Wolfsgarten, you are the wisest of usall; are you also of opinion that a million must have a title? I mean,of course, not the million, but the man who has the million?"

  "It is most amiable of you," replied Clodwig, "to exercise in my favoryour sovereign right to point out the wisest of us all."

  "Thanks," cried the long lieutenant, "that blow told. But I pray youlet me have your opinion."

  "I think," said a stout retired court-marshal who boasted of havingalready lost sixteen pounds at the Baths, "I think that our noble hosthas the right to require that this discussion should not be continuedat this time and in this place. Does not your Excellency agree withme?" he added, turning to Clodwig.

  Before the Count had time to answer, Sonnenkamp broke in:--

  "On the contrary, I should be most happy if my honored guests would sofar favor me as to continue the discussion, and allow me to be alistener; I should take it as a proof that they did not regard me asstranger."

  Clodwig, who had broken through his usual strict rule of temperance,and allowed himself to be persuaded to drink two glasses of champagne,suddenly assumed a knowing look and said:--

  "In that case, Herr Sonnenkamp, let us hear your own opinion upon thesubject."

  "Yes, yes," cried the long lieutenant; "the man who has earnedmillions, and has got up such a fairy entertainment as this, must----"

  "Pray, let Herr Sonnenkamp speak," interrupted Clodwig.

  "
My honored guests," began Sonnenkamp, "I have visited every part ofthe inhabited globe, and have learned that there is and must beeverywhere an aristocracy, one class distinguished above the rest."

  "It is so among horses and dogs," broke in the long lieutenant."Countess Dingsda of Russia, has two grayhounds descended from theEmpress Katherine---- I mean from the Empress Katherine's dogs."

  The Court-marshal who had lost the sixteen pounds of flesh admonishedthe long lieutenant in a whisper to hold his tongue, for he wasexposing himself and putting out the whole company. The longlieutenant, passed his hand over his brow, and softly promised to obey.

  "Let us hear you further," urged Clodwig, and Sonnenkamp continued,--

  "It is fortunate also for barbarous races, when they possess certainfamilies who present them, in historical continuation, the variousdecisive points in their career, and when new families becomedistinguished by courage or wisdom, and form, as it were, a newdynasty."

  Clodwig observed that the sweat stood in great drops on Sonnenkamp'sforehead, and said, with great friendliness,--

  "It might be said that the distinctive prerogative of the nobility wasto unite culture and courage; one should never be separated from theother. I hope you will understand me aright when I say that the titlesof nobility perpetuate the remembrance of the gifts, the acquisitionsof transcendent genius in a former time, and they have now become aninherited right, or rather involve an inherited duty. The nobleman isthe free human being, uniting in himself the gifts of nature andfortune, and preserving a certain chain of connection through the everchanging generations of men. Nobility is a kind of public office towhich a man is born. The nobleman should act out his own nature, but isbound at the same time by the conditions of history."

  "May the wine freeze in my body, if I understand a word of what he issaying," said the long lieutenant to the Court Marshal, who was tryinghard to fight off the sleep which, contrary to all the rules of thetreatment, was stealing over him. He suddenly woke up and said,--

  "Yes, yes; you are perfectly right; but do keep quiet."

  "You yourself," said the Marshal, "must reverence an honest pride inthe virtues and bravery of our ancestors. The man who walks through agallery, from whose walls the pictures of a long line of progenitorslook down upon and watch his steps, receives a life-long impression;through his whole life he is followed by the watchful eye of hisancestors."

  "True, true!" cried many voices.

  "And what follows from that?" asked Clodwig. "Let us return to ouroriginal question."

  "Just what I am doing. Why should not these historical conditions beconstantly reversed?"

  "Quite right; that is the proper way to state the question," repliedClodwig. "Is this an age which can concede any special duties, and withthem any special privileges, to the nobility? This is the day of equalrights; there are no more members of a privileged class. There are buttwo classes of men, men of renown and men without renown. The nobilitywhich claims to rest upon hereditary honor is effete; it isincontestably a dying institution. Of what use are coats of arms? Ofnone but to be embroidered on fire-screens, sofa cushions, andtravelling-bags. The equal, universal duty of bearing arms furnishesthe reasonable claim to nobility. Science, art, business, are thefactors of our time, which the whole people without distinction isequally bound to take part in. We stand in opposition to history. Thenobleman was of importance so long as landed property was thefoundation of the nation's power. That time is passed, since those highchimneys have reared themselves into the air; since the power ofmovable property, ideal possessions--for all state securities are butideal possessions--has surpassed that of landed estates, those dayshave been no more. One advantage of this personal property is, that itcannot be clutched by the dead hand; the hand of inheritance is a deadhand. I am not opposed to having the nobleman of the present day givehis name to business transactions; there are better things than titlesand orders by which not only money, but influence, can be gained. Ithank the noble Jacob Grimm for exposing, as he does in his essay onSchiller, the folly of supposing that Goethe and Schiller can beennobled. The nobility of to-day means nothing but a name, adesolation; we go so far as to bestow it even upon the Jews."

  "But you, certainly," interrupted the Banker, "would not deny the equalrights of the different religions, the moment this equality of rightsknocks at the emblazoned door of nobility?"

  "Equal rights!" exclaimed Clodwig. "Quite right, my friend descendedfrom an ancient race. But is it not an absurd perversion to use equalrights for the abolishment of equal rights? If anybody can become anoble, without the necessity of having been born so, of course the Jewscan; but they ought not to desire it, they ought to see the disloyaltyof it. So far as I see, the Jews--I am speaking now with no referenceto their religion--are a living lesson to us not to judge of men bywhat they believe, but by their progress in virtue and culture. TheJews are, according to our way of regarding them, a race made up ofnobles--for who has a longer and purer pedigree?--or they are a peoplein a certain degree proud of being descended from slaves. I am indebtedto an old rabbi, whom I once met at the Baths, for a noble thought."

  "What was it?" asked the Banker.

  "He said to me--we were in Ostend at the time, walking on the sea-shoreand talking of the negro, discussing his capability for freedom andculture, and this rabbi made a very beautiful remark----"

  Clodwig paused for a time as if trying to recall something, then,laying the finger of his left hand upon the bridge of his nose, hesaid,--

  "The rabbi declared that the looking back to a past time of slavery wasa great spur to ambition, and that many things which at first sightappear strange in the Jews, may be accounted for by the important factof their tracing their history back to a period of slavery. They havehad implanted in them, by their bondage in Egypt, a pride and ahumility, a steady resistance to oppression, a quick perception ofinjustice and of every injury inflicted on others, and hence asympathy, which is unparalleled in history."

  "Certainly."

  "A Jew with a coat of arms," continued Clodwig, "with helmet and shieldand all the gewgaws--the very sight of them should be an offence tohim, for at the time when men wore helmets and shields, his ancestors,the Jews, were servants of the emperor, and almost outside theprotection of the laws. A Jew may become Christian from conviction,because, apart from the dogma, he perceives the advance in civilizationand culture which the religion of Jesus has accomplished. Many changetheir faith from want of deep principle, not having the courage, or notfeeling it to be their duty, to inflict upon themselves and on theirchildren a life-long martyrdom. But a Jew with a title is the mostridiculous anachronism that can be imagined. To become a citizen, toenter that class which is ever increasing in numbers and importance, isthe right and the duty of a Jew. But shall there be a union of Jewishnoble families, who, like others, shall marry only among themselves?The more we think of the matter, the more absurd the contradictionsthat arise. However, I did not mean to speak of the Jews, and pray thecompany to pardon me for having thus strayed from our main point."

  "Had we not better put an end to the discussion altogether?" suggestedPranken.

  "I have done; only one word more. A piece of music always leaves apainful impression if we have not heard the final cadence, and,therefore, let me say, in a few words, that I consider the raising of acitizen to the ranks of the nobility a historical absurdity, to use noharsher term. The man who leaves the ranks of the citizens is adeserter, an apostate, I will not say a traitor and a fool also, forforsaking the conquering banner of the people. I understand thetemptation; they want to secure their possessions to their family, toestablish the right of entail; the sons want to be knights; but it is astinted race after all, a mongrel stock, from which no good tree cangrow."

  Clodwig had several objects in view in speaking thus; he wanted to makea direct appeal to his companions in rank, and he wanted, once for all,to divert from their purpose Sonnenkamp and the Banker, who he knew hadalso been induced to aspire to a ti
tle.

  Perceiving a peculiar expression in the countenance of his old friend,he turned to him, and said:--

  "I see you have something on your mind you would like to say."

  "Nothing of any consequence," replied the Banker, with a shrug of hisshoulders, offering his gold snuff-box to Clodwig and Sonnenkamp. "Ourhost is a perfect example of what is called in America 'a self-mademan,' a term of great distinction. There is no term in our languagewhich exactly expresses it. To have inherited nothing, but to have woneverything by his own effort, is the greatest pride of an American.'Self made man' is, so to speak, the motto upon his shield. Theirpresident elect, Abraham Lincoln, is the best example of this class,who, from being a rail-splitter and a boatman, has attained the highesthonor. Are you personally acquainted with Lincoln?"

  "I have not the honor," replied Sonnenkamp.

  Roland here approached the gentlemen, and requested them to join therest of the company, as the plan was to have the band play, while allwalked together to the place where they had left the carriages. Allarose from table. The nobles from the various German principalitiesstared at one another in amazement, and if any magical change couldhave come over them, would certainly have been turned into stone, asthe bridal procession had been. The long lieutenant and the sleepyCourt-marshal would have made most grotesque figures. How was it that anobleman, a Count von Wolfsgarten, could use such language? The manmust be drunk!

  They joined the ladies. Clodwig and Eric lingered a little behind. Erichad not spoken a word during the discussion, and Clodwig expressed hisvexation at having inconsiderately opened his whole mind to persons,who did not want to listen to serious words.

  "I am grateful to you for it," replied Eric.

  "I will try to think," said Clodwig in conclusion, "that I have beentalking only to you."

  The two went together into the woods, where the ladies had now risenfrom their carpeted resting-place, and, seating themselves on theground, watched the young people dancing on the meadow below.

  Sonnenkamp stood leaning against a tall pine-tree, as if turned intostone, and almost wishing that the whole company might be actuallypetrified like the marriage procession. A butterfly, which flew overClodwig's head, and fluttered back and forth in the valley beforeSonnenkamp's eyes, might have told him what Clodwig was saying to Ericon the hill.

  "You asked me this morning my opinion on this matter; I think you knowit now. I have declared distinctly, that I shall decidedly oppose allconferring of titles upon new men. I do not mind telling you, however,my young friend, that Herr Sonnenkamp's chances are very good, for myvoice is not decisive."

  Eric was strangely tempted to go down to where Sonnenkamp was standingand tell him this. He had witnessed the man's disappointment to-day,and would have been glad to encourage him, feeling sympathy for one whodesired all things for his son's sake.

  He restrained himself, however, being resolved to keep himself alooffrom the whole matter. He told Clodwig how Roland had wished, on theevening of the ball, to confide to him the secret of their being aboutto receive a title, but that it was his intention not to mention thesubject to the boy, although his father had opened the way for him todo so. Roland had thus far been keeping the matter quietly in his ownmind, and it seemed better now to ignore it altogether, than to havethe son conceive any disapprobation of his father's proceedings.Clodwig agreed perfectly with his young friend, and repeatedlyexpressed his present contentment at Eric's having rejected hisproposal to live with him, for there was a wider and richer field ofusefulness open to him where he was.

  Both were refreshed by their quiet intercourse.

  The long lieutenant now broke in upon Sonnenkamp's solitary musings.The butterfly flew up again, and might have told those on the hill whatwas passing in the valley below.

  "Herr von Sonnenkamp," began the long lieutenant, "have the negroes anymusical talent?"

  "The negroes are very fond of a kind of music of their own, which isnothing but noise," replied Sonnenkamp; "and many wise men considerthat conversation which--" he paused for a word, but seemed to findnone sharp enough, and at the same time sufficiently polite. At last hesaid--"which perhaps might pass for such in the little capital."

  He joined the gay company, and, while the band played, they all walkedto the place where the carriages were waiting.

  It so happened, neither knew how, that Manna and Eric walked togetherthrough the woods. They went on, side by side, in silence, though eachhad so much to say to the other.

  "I hear," Manna began at last, "that Count Clodwig expressed himselfwarmly against rank; did he think that distinction of birth was in anyway opposed to religion?"

  "He said nothing of the kind."

  Again they went on in silence.

  "I wonder where our friend, Professor Einsiedel, has been to-day,"began Manna again; "I am a pupil of his, too, now."

  "It is a great privilege," answered Eric, "to know such a liberal,devout mind."

  They said no more, but both felt that there was a sort of sympathyestablished between them by their reverence for the same man. Not onlywas their faculty of reverence now the same, but there was a commonobject of their reverence.

  "Eric! Manna!" suddenly cried a voice, which was repeated by all theechoes of the forest. They stood startled at hearing their names thuscoupled together, and sent back again, and again, by the stone figuresof the bridal procession.

  Roland came back to find them, and, giving his right hand to Manna andhis left to Eric, led them thus to the carriage, in which all tooktheir seats.

 
Berthold Auerbach's Novels