The wanderings and fortunes of some German emigrants

by Friedrich Gerstäcker

"Hehrmann, and alone here!" replied Helldorf, thoughtfully. "Well, we will leave the horses behind awhile, for they won't be able to make their way through this wild chaos of young shoots and old stumps; we can then soon convince ourselves whether you are right. I hope, at least, that it may be so; but let us advance—this uncertainty is dreadful."

The man, who had hitherto been chopping at a long stem, now lifted, with evident difficulty, a heavy log which he had cut off, on to his shoulder, and stepped with it towards the house; there, outside the door, he put it down, and a young lad, who came running from another corner of the clearing, helped him to carry in the load.

Helldorf and Werner hurried forward without exchanging another word, and in a few minutes were in front of the door, which was opened from within.

Hehrmann, who, with the assistance of Charles, the former glazier's apprentice, had just placed the heavy back-log on the fire, stood with his back towards them, but on his wife and daughters uttering a cry of surprise, on seeing those who had approached, he turned quickly round towards the door, and that with no presentiment of any good. But who shall describe his joyful astonishment, when he recognised the dear and long-wished for forms of those worthy men, for whose friendly voices he had so often longed? Who can paint his feelings when he grasped Werner and Helldorf's hands, and with a hearty, although certainly rather tremulous voice, bade them a joyful, sincere "Welcome?"

And what said Bertha to this meeting? Oh, my dear reader, thou art not to know everything; thou must rest satisfied with being told that Werner had been a full hour in the house, and since he was first welcomed by Bertha, and yet, as if in absence of mind, kept her little hand lying warmly and firmly in his. Hast thou ever thus held a being that was dear—very dear to thee? Then thou knowest what it means, and if thou hast not—then, poor reader, then, any explanations or description which I might give would not assist thee.

But how poor Werner's heart bled, when he learnt, as he now by degrees did, the whole story of the sufferings of the young colony. The prophecies with which those who meant them well had warned them, had been but too soon fulfilled. Quarrels and discord broke out first when the people discovered that they could not, as they had actually supposed, become rich and independent in half a year, and the majority would no longer work, as they declared that they had no occasion to labour so hard for their own livelihood, and that they were not disposed to toil for others of the "Gentry."

Becher had then, first of all, withdrawn himself from the affair, and given up what he termed a hopeless business; Siebert, junior, had followed him, and immediately afterwards the elder one had also disappeared, and that, as Hehrmann, Herbold, and Von Schwanthal could not conceal from the rest of the settlers, with a pretty considerable portion of the common funds. Pastor Hehrmann had then had great sacrifices to make, and gave up the greater part of his already much diminished property to pacify those who made the loudest complaints, and to stave off the ruin of all his hopes, which else would have taken place at once. But what hurt him more than all was the ungrateful conduct of those whom he had most obliged, whom he had most actively supported. People who, without means of their own, had been hitherto supported from the common stock of the society, showed themselves the most discontented; the most embittered quarrels and disputes followed the distaste for work, and although the better men among them, and Hehrmann as the foremost of these, gave way, and again and again endeavoured to restore a good understanding—although representations and even prayers were wasted upon the disturbers, it was in vain. "We are all equal here," was the eternal answer; "and if I'm to toil and moil here, I should like to know what for," said the stupid fellows, who either could not, or would not see, that by such bad faith they not only destroyed the society, but also brought the greatest evils upon themselves, as they now went off without knowing the language, without money, and without friends, into a strange country, and had to toil and plague themselves for yet stranger people, and that, perhaps, for six or seven dollars a month, and without receiving either thanks or a friendly word in return. Von Schwanthal had left later, in order to see Arkansas; for an American, who had passed through, had told him so much of the shooting in Arkansas, that he could no longer resist the newly awakened and mighty love of hunting any longer. He embarked himself and his baggage, after having formally taken leave of the colony, for Little Rock, and intended, as he had told Pastor Hehrmann at parting, to lead a regular hunter's life in the new state.

Becher had gone to New Orleans, and the rest gradually dispersed to all quarters of the compass. Hehrmann saw them, one after another, take their leave, or even forsake the place without leave-taking; but when he was left almost alone, and wished himself to seek a better, healthier home, when his last friend had disappeared with Wolfgang, who had cleared out for Missouri as late as seven months since, he found, to his alarm, that he no longer possessed the means. He had given away everything—sacrificed all, in order that he might not see his favourite plan, the union of Germans in, a fraternal society, founder. He had, when they learnt from Buffalo that the things left behind there were gone, and could not be traced, and the landlord pretended to know nothing about anything of the kind—when subsequently link after link of the chain fell away, when those forsook him on whom he had calculated most—even when ridicule or contemptuous laughter met his ear, he had never hesitated. "We are melted down to a few," he used to say to those few, "but we can yet prove that people who religiously are in earnest in the good cause, can carry it through in spite of the greatest difficulties."

But he soon discovered that those who continued with him were, for the most part, merely compelled to do so, because they did not possess a single dollar wherewith to pay their passage anywhere else, and gladly seized upon the first opportunity which offered, without troubling themselves much as to what became of Pastor Hehrmann and his family, whom they left alone in the swamps.