Chapter 8

Said young Werner: "I am ready." Thereupon the little pygmy From the rock pushed back some brushwood, When appeared a small low passage. "Light is needed here for mortals," Said the gnome, who now was rubbing Two hard flints, and soon had lighted By the sparks a piece of pine-wood. With this torch he went ahead then; Werner followed, often stooping, Often even well-nigh creeping, For the rocks were nearly meeting. Soon, however, widely opened At the passage end a cavern Of gigantic height and grandeur. Slender columns there supported Lofty arches of the ceiling; From the walls the gray stalactites Hung in various patterns twining, Marvellous, yet graceful textures; Some like tears which from the walls dropped, Others like the richly twisted Branches of gigantic corals. An unearthly bluish colour All throughout the space was glowing, Mingled with the glaring torch-light From the sharp-edged stones reflected. From the depths a rushing sound rose As from distant mountain-streams. Werner gazed at all this splendour, Felt as in a dream transported To some strange and lofty temple, And his heart was filled with awe.

"My young friend," now said the pygmy, "Tell me, pray, what are you thinking Of the gnome's secluded dwelling? This is but a place for work-days. Fairer ones far in the North lie, Also in the Alpine caverns; But Italia owns the fairest, On the rocky shore of Capri, In the Mediterranean Sea. O'er the sea's blue waters rise up The stalactites' lofty arches, And the waves in the dark cavern With blue magic light are gleaming, And the tide protects the entrance. The Italian gnomes there often Bathe and frolic with the daughters Of old Nereus, the sea-god, And the sailor shuns the grotto. But perhaps in later ages May a sunday-child look in there, Like thyself a travelling minstrel, Or a merry-hearted artist. But now, come, we must go farther!"

Downward stepped he with the torch-light Ever farther, Werner saw how Huge chaotic rocky masses Lay in heaps of wild confusion, Over which was rushing foaming, To the bottomless abyss, a river. Over steep and high rocks clambering, They now entered a new passage. It looked home-like, a large square-room, Of high rocky walls constructed, Fitted for a hermitage; Round about stood slender columns. Ever dropping from the ceiling And through centuries increasing Had stalactites slowly formed them; And some others stood half finished In the process of formation. Now the gnome knocked on the columns, And mysterious solemn tones rang Out in deep harmonious rhythm. "They are tuned," he said, "according To the harmony of the spheres."

In this room a rock was lying. Smooth and round, just like a table; And there motionless and silent Sat a man--looked as if sleeping, Leaned his head upon his right hand. Stony were his lordly features, And the flame of life no longer Played o'er them; and doubtless many Tears had his sad eyes been shedding. Petrified they now were hanging In his beard and from his robes. Werner gazed at him with terror And he asked: "Is this a statue, Or a man of flesh and blood?"

Said the gnome: "This is my guest here, 'Tis the _silent man_, whom many Years I've comfortably sheltered. Once he was a proud old mortal, And I found him in the valley, And I offered then to show him Where to find the nearest village. But he shook his head and broke out In a mocking scornful laughter. Marvellously grand his words were, Now like prayers devout and pious, Like a psalm, such as we gnomes sing Often in the earth's vast bowels; Then like curses unto heaven. Much I could not understand. But it woke the recollections Of the days of time primeval, When the wild ferocious Titans Rocks and mountains tore up o'er us From their firm and deep foundations, And we fled to greater depths. For the man I felt great pity, And I took him to my cavern; And he liked it, when I showed him All the gnomes' incessant labours; And directly felt at home here. Oft together have we listened To the growing of stalactites, Chatted also many evenings Of the things below us hidden; Only when my conversation Turned to men, he grew quite angry; Dark his frowns were, and he broke once Seven columns in his fury. When I wished to praise the sunlight And the skies, he stopped me, saying: 'Speak not of the sky or sunlight! In the sunlight there above us Snakes are creeping, and they sting one; Men are living and they hate one; Up there in the starry heavens We see questions which are waiting For an answer; who can give it?' So he stayed here in the cavern, And the grief which overwhelmed him Was dissolved in tender sadness. Oft I saw him gently weeping; Oft, when a melodious wailing Through the columns' hollow shafts rang, He sat there, his sweet songs singing. But he gradually grew silent. Did I ask him what he wanted, Then he smiling took my hand: 'Gnome, I many songs can sing thee, But the best I have not sung yet. Will you know its name? 'Tis silence. Silence--silence! oh how well one Learns it here in thy deep cavern; Depth creates true modesty. But the cold is o'er me creeping; Gnome! 'tis true, my poor heart freezes. Gnome! dost thou know what true love is? If for diamonds thou art digging, And dost find them, take them with thee, Guard them safely in thy cavern. Gnome, thy heart will never freeze then!'

"These the last words he has spoken. Now for years he has been silent In this spot. He has not died yet Nor is living, but his body Slowly into stone is changing; And I nurse him; heartfelt pity For my silent guest I cherish, Often try to cheer his spirit With the columns' solemn music, And I know it pleases him. Without taking any freedom, I think you too are a minstrel; And the service you can do me Is to play before my guest here."

Then young Werner took his trumpet And began to play; his mournful Strains were ringing through the cavern As if breathing forth deep pity. Then in thinking of his own love, Through the sadness now there mingled Strains of joy--first faint and distant, Then came nearer--fresher, fuller, And the last notes sounded like a Glorious hymn on Easter morning. And the silent man then listened, Nodded gently with his head. Fare-thee-well, dream on in peace, thou Silent man, in thy still cavern, Till the fulness comes of knowledge And of love, to wake the sleeper.

Through the winding cave young Werner With the gnome was now returning. As the spacious dome they entered A great rock the gnome uplifted. Underneath a shrine was hidden, And within were sparkling jewels, Also writings and old parchments. One pale amethyst, and papers Which by age had turned quite yellow, Gave the gnome now to young Werner, Saying: "Take these as mementoes! If the world above doth vex thee, Here thou e'er wilt find a refuge. But when wicked men are saying That gnomes' feet are webbed like geese-feet, Then, by lime-spar and rock-crystal! Say that they are dreadful liars. True, our soles are somewhat flattened; But 'tis only a rude peasant Who so cruelly maligns us. Now good-bye, there is the outlet; Take the pine-torch, light thyself now, I have other things to do."-- Spoke and crept into a crevice.

Musing through the narrow passage Went young Werner, and his head struck Oft against the rocky ceiling Ere he reached again the daylight. Peacefully the evening-bell rang Through the vale as he went homeward.

ELEVENTH PART.

THE HAUENSTEIN RIOT.

Through the Schwarzwald spreads a buzzing. Buzzing as of bees when swarming, As of the approaching storm-wind. In the tavern savage fellows Meet: their heavy fists are striking On the table: "Bring me wine here! Better times are now approaching For this land of Hauenstein." From the corn-loft brings the peasant His old-fashioned rusty musket, Which below the floor was hidden; Fetches also the long halberd. On the walnut-tree the raven Harshly croaks: "Long have I fasted; Soon I'll have meat for my dinner, I shall relish thee, poor peasant!"

Now the people from the mountains. Throng at Herrischried the market; There the seat is of their union, There they hold their union-meeting. But to-day the Hauenstein peasants Came not in black velvet doublets, With red stomachers and white frills, As was usually their custom. Some had buckled on cuirasses, Others wore their leather doublets; In the breeze the flag was waving, And the morning sun was shining On their spears and thick spiked clubs. Near the old church in the market Stood the village elders, with the Union-leader and mace-bearer. "Silence, men!" the beadle shouted. Silence reigned, and on the church-steps Mounted then the peasants' speaker, Holding an official paper, Stroked his long gray beard, and said:

"Inasmuch as the hard war-time Has much injured town and country, And the debt is much augmented; So to meet increased expenses Our most gracious rulers hereby Do exact new contributions; Seven florins from each household, And from all the bachelors two. And next week the tax-collector Comes to gather these new taxes. So 'tis written in this paper." --"Death upon the tax-collector! May God damn him!" cried the people.-- "Now as we ourselves have suffered Quite enough by this sad war, and Many lost their goods and chattels; And because 'tis pledged in writing As one of our privileges, That there shall be no new taxes E'er imposed upon this country, Many this demand consider As a most unjust extortion, Think we should stand up most firmly For our ancient rights by charter, And should never pay a farthing." --"Not a farthing!" cried the people.-- "So we summoned you together For your final resolution."

Like the distant surf their voices Loudly roared in wild confusion: "Come! stand up! speak out! We must now Hear the Bergalingen Fridli. He knows best--and all we others Always are of his opinion." Then stepped out the man thus called for, And upon a big log mounting, Spoke thus with a shrewd expression:

"Do you see at last, dull peasants, What the end will be? Your fathers Once gave up their little finger; Now they want to seize the whole hand. Only give it, and you'll soon see, How they'll flay your very skin off! Who can really thus compel us? In his woods free lives the peasant, Nothing but the sun above him. So it stands in our old records, In the statutes of our union: Nothing there of rent and socage, Nothing of a bondman's service! But there's danger we shall have them. Do you know what will protect us? Yonder there the Swiss can tell you, And the valiant Appenzellers. This here!"--and he brandished fiercely O'er his head his thick spiked club.-- "On the fir-tree I heard piping Lately a white bird at midnight: Good old time, that bygone time, Peasants, freemen in their forests; If with spears and guns you seek it, You will see it soon returning. Now, Amen! my speech is ended."

Then wild cries rose from the people-- "He is right" were many saying; "To the devil with our rulers! Burn these damned taxation-papers! All these scribblers may look out soon If this flame can be extinguished With the fluid in their inkstands." Said another: "Thou, oh governor, Didst consign me to a dungeon; Poor my fare, with only water! Thou hast wine within thy cellar, And I hope we now shall try it. Yes, with thee I'll square accounts soon!" Said a third one: "Thee my musket, Which has brought down many woodcocks, I shall use for nobler sport soon. Then hit well! For we'll be shooting At the great black double eagle." Thus a murmur through the crowd went. Just as when the plague is raging, Everywhere infection spreadeth, So were all the peasants' hearts now Filled with passion and blind wrath. And in vain spoke the experienced Villaringen elder, Balthes:

"If a horse's tail is bridled, Not his mouth, no one can drive him. If the peasant seeks for justice By revolt, all will go badly; In the end he gets a thrashing. Hence of old we were commanded To obey the ruling powers, And--" but now in voluntary Was he stopped in his sage counsels: "Turn him out, this old fool Balthes! May God damn him! He is faithless; He's a traitor to his country!" Thus they howled out, stones were flying, Spears were threatening, and his friends could Hardly get him off in safety.

"To be short, what use of speaking?" Fridli said, of Bergalingen. "Who are faithful to our old rights And will go for them to battle, Raise their hands high!" And they raised them All, while loud hurrahs they shouted. Arms are clanking, flags are waving, Battle-cries--the drums are beating. And that day large bands were marching From the hills toward the river To attack the forest-cities.

In the forest from the fir-tree Looked the wood-sprite Meysenhartus, Mocking at the peasants' army, Said: "A lucky journey to you! No need I should now mislead you, As you choose yourselves the wrong track!"

Scouts are riding, watchmen blowing, Women wailing, children crying; Through the vale rings the alarm-bell. Burghers through the streets are running: "Close the gates! Defend the town-walls! Bring the guns up to the tower!" From the terrace saw the Baron This commotion in the forest, How the mountain-paths were darkened By the peasant-bands descending. "Am I dreaming," said he, "or have All these men indeed forgotten, How a hundred and fifty years since Such mad peasants' jokes were punished? Yes, indeed, the forest glitters With their helmets and their halberds. Well devised, you cunning peasants! While below there on the Danube The proud eagle of the emperor Lets the Turks feel his sharp talons, You think that it will be easy, On the Rhine to pluck his feathers! Look out well that this your reckoning Won't deceive you; and I swear here, The old Baron will not fail to Greet you with a warm reception."

Turned and went into the castle, And he donned his leathern doublet, Buckled on the heavy broadsword, And gave orders to the household: "Quickly get your weapons ready, Keep good watch upon the towers, Raise the drawbridge, and let no one, While I am away, here enter! Master Werner, you may order All the rest. Protect my castle, And my daughter, my chief treasure! Have no fear, dear Margaretta; Brave must be a soldier's child. Only some few coal-black ravens Come there flying from the forest, Want to get their skulls well battered 'Gainst the walls of this good city. God preserve you! I myself go To my post, up to the town-hall."

Margaretta threw herself now In the Baron's arms, who kindly Pressed upon her brow fond kisses. Shaking Werner's hand then warmly He walked off unto the square.

There the ladies of the convent Wailing went up to the minster: "Show us mercy, Fridolinus!" By his door the "Button" landlord Asked the Baron: "Is it time now, That we put our gold and silver In the cellar's deepest places?" Said the Baron: "Shame upon you! It is time to take your weapons And to help defend the city. Show the same zeal as when fishing!"

In the town-hall were assembled Councillors and burgomaster. Many of the city-fathers Made wry faces, as though fearing The last judgment-day was coming. On their hearts their sins were pressing Like a hundredweight; they cried out: "Save us, God, from this great evil, And we'll promise all our lifetime Ne'er to take unlawful interest, Never to defraud the orphan, Ne'er to mix sand with our spices." Even one proposed this motion: "Let us send out to these peasants Meat and wine in great abundance, Also of doubloons some dozens, That from hence they may depart; They in Waldshut may look out then, How they drive away these fellows."

Now the Baron came among them: "My good sirs! I do believe you Hang your heads. To work now bravely! When the Swedes the town beleagured, Then 'twas grave, but this is only Child's play. Surely you have always Liked to hear and make good music; So the booming guns will please you. Let the orchestra strike up now! And these fellows, when they hear you, Homeward soon will all go dancing, E'er the emperor's own detachment Plays for them the grand finale."

Thus he spoke. In times of terror Oft a brave word at the right time Can work wonders; many cowards From example drink in courage; And one single iron will leads Oft along the wavering masses. Thus the council looked up strengthened To the Baron's gray moustaches. "Yes, this is just our opinion, We'll defend our city bravely, And the Baron shall command us; For he knows well how to do it. Death to all these cursed peasants!" Through the streets th' alarm is sounded To the town-gate, where a narrow Dam leads on to terra firma, Ran well armed the younger people. On the bastion stood commanding Fludribus, the fresco-painter, Who had there assembled round him Some young lads who with great effort An old gun were hauling up there. Smiling looked at them the Baron, But great Fludribus said gravely: "Devotees of art can boast of Stores of universal knowledge. Let them have a chance, and they will Rule the state as well as armies. My keen eye sees well there's danger In this spot; and as Cellini From the Castle of St Angelo Shot the constable of France once. So--alas at foes inferior-- Cannonades here Fludribus."

"Only do not kill them all off!" Said the Baron; "and be sure first To get balls enough and powder; For, the gun you there are dragging Will not be of use without them!"

To the Rhine-bank came the peasants In great crowds, and looked up growling At the high walls of the city And the well-closed city-gate. "In his den the fox is hiding, He has barred his hole most firmly, But the peasants will unearth him," Fridli said, of Bergalingen. "Forward! I will be your leader!" Drums were beating the assault now, Heavy muskets cracking loudly; Through the powder-smoke ran shouting All these hordes against the town-gate. On the walls to best advantage Had the Baron placed his forces; And was tranquilly then looking At the crowd of wild assaulters. "'Tis to be regretted," thought he, "That such strength is idly wasted. Out of these strong country lubbers One might form a splendid regiment." His command is heard: "Now fire!" The assaulters then were welcomed With a well-aimed thundering volley, And they fled in all directions; Like a swarm of crows dispersing, When the hail-shot flies among them.

And not few of them had fallen. 'Neath an apple-tree was lying By the shore one who spoke feebly To a comrade passing by him: "Greet from me my poor old mother, Also my Verena Frommherz. Say, she can with a good conscience Marry the tall Uickerhans now. For, poor Seppli here is staining The white sand with his true heart's blood!"

Whilst this happened by the town-gate, Some were trying if the city Could be entered by a back-way. On the Rhine below were lying Fishing-boats beside a cabin, Where in traps they caught the salmon. There another crowd streamed onward. An audacious lad from Karsau Led them; for, he knew each byway Near the river, and had often Many fish at night-time stolen From the nets of other people. In three fishing-boats, well manned, thence Were they rowing up the river. Willow-trees and heavy brushwood, And a bend there in the river Saved them from discovery. Where the garden of the castle On arched walls is far projecting O'er the Rhine, they stopped their barges, And quite easy was the landing.

On the roof of the pavilion Which once Fludribus had painted Sat the black cat Hiddigeigei. With surprise the worthy cat saw Spear-heads far below him glistening; Saw a man, too, upward climbing On the stone wall, tightly holding With his teeth a shining sabre; And how others followed after. Growling said then Hiddigeigei: "Best for a wise cat it would be Ever to remain quite neutral To man's foolish acts of daring; But I hate these boorish peasants, Hate the smell of cows and stables. If they triumph, woe to Europe; For, it would destroy completely The fine atmosphere of culture. Now look out below, you fellows! Since the geese by cries of warning Saved the Capitol of Rome once, Animals are taking interest In the history of the world."

Up he sprang in furious anger, Curved his back, his hair all bristling, And commenced a caterwauling Fit to take away one's hearing.