CHAPTER XVII.
A year before I left Mecklenburg to go and live in Thuringia, I went to see the old homesteads where I had spent so many happy days when I was young; I went to Rahnstädt, and without stopping there, set out for Gürlitz on a lovely Sunday afternoon in the month of June. I intended to visit Hawermann, Bräsig, and Mrs. Behrens, whom I had known from my boyhood, and whom I had often visited afterwards in Rahnstädt. Godfrey, I had also known in his most methodistical days, and--strangely enough--we were very good friends, although he knew that I had quite a different faith from what he had, perhaps he liked me because I was a very quiet young fellow.
When I got to Gürlitz I went straight to the house that had been built for the widows of the parish clergymen. I took hold of the handle, but the door was locked. "Hm!" said I to myself, "it's Sunday afternoon, and very hot weather; I daresay that they're having a nap." I went to the window, and getting on tip-toe was about to look in, when a voice behind me, said: "You won't see anything there, Sir, for no one lives there now."--"Doesn't Mrs. Behrens live here?"--"She is dead."--"And Hawermann?" I asked. "He has gone to live with his daughter, Mrs. von Rambow, at Pümpelhagen."--"Is the parson at home?"--"Yes, he's at home," said old George, the parson's man, for it was he, "yes he's at home, and so is Mrs. Baldrian, they are at coffee just now."
I went into the parsonage and knocked at the parlour door. "Come in!" cried a fat voice. I entered, and--well I've seen many a strange thing in my life, many a thing that has quite taken my breath away with surprise, but I never was so much astonished, so much taken aback before--there sat Godfrey with his hair cut short like a reasonable mortal, and that part of his body one had formerly thought like the hollow of Mrs. Nüssler's baking trough was now well rounded, and evidently on the increase; his cheeks which were pale and hollow when I first knew him were now sleek and rosy, and his full red lips seemed to say: "We always find our dinner a pleasant thing, and the teeth behind us have done their duty well." The man looked as if he liked good eating, but still one could see that he was one who did his duty to the uttermost. There was nothing untidy about him, everything was as neat and trim as possible, and in short, one saw in Godfrey a specimen of hard work followed by quiet rest and good meals. Well, well. There's very little to be said about Mrs. Lina's personal appearance. She had evidently taken Mrs. Behrens as an example of what a clergyman's wife should be. "Hm!" said I to myself, "there must be something fattening in the air here."
When we had all expressed our pleasure in meeting again, we sat down, and I began to ask questions. It was from Bräsig that I got to know of the story I have been telling, but Hawermann also told me a little, for he was always very kind and affectionate to me, and other things I learnt from different people whom I questioned; I wrote it all down at the time when it was fresh in my memory, and as this happened in my youth or strom, I have called the book: "Ut mine Stromtid."
Godfrey gave me a great deal of information, and his wife Lina every now and then helped him with some little incident he had forgotten; when I rose to go on to Pümpelhagen--for I had also known Frank in the days of my youth--Godfrey said: "Yes, go; you'll find everyone assembled there to-day, and we shall soon follow you with our three girls, the eldest of all, a boy, is at school."
I walked along the path leading from Pümpelhagen to Gürlitz church, thinking of all that I had heard. It was the old old story that has been told ever since the earth was created: Joy and sorrow, birth and death.
The first of our friends who died was Bolster, and he did not die a natural death--I do not mean that he killed himself--no indeed! One day Rührdanz, the weaver, came to Rexow with a loaded gun; he put a string round Bolster's neck, and led him away to the garden. The new "crown prince" followed them unnoticed, and as was afterwards said, behaved very badly, by running about yelping. A shot was fired, and then Rührdanz came back to the house and told his employers that Bolster had had a Christian death, for he had shot him in the shoulder instead of through the head, thinking it would be less of a shock to him. When Mrs. Nüssler had given him a glass of schnaps, the weaver took up the glass slowly and drank the contents sadly; then he said, that he and the other Gürlitz labourers had been before the Rahnstädt court of justice that morning, and that they were all condemned to a year's imprisonment, besides which he was to have six months extra, for he was looked upon as the head or ring-leader of the rebellion. He left the room, but came back again to say: "Ah, Mrs. Nüssler, don't forget my old woman. All the mischief comes from our having had no papers."
The next to die was Joseph himself. Ever since he had given up his farm, he had led a much busier life than before. He spent the whole day walking about the fields, generally going to the places where no work was going on, and there he would stand for a long time shaking his head and saying nothing. One Sunday, between Christmas and new year's day, when the snow was lying a foot deep over the fields, he went out to walk round the farm, and while doing so fell into one of the deep ditches. He came home quite numb with cold. Mrs. Nüssler administered bucketsful of camomile tea, which he drank obediently, but next morning he said: "What can't be, can't be, mother. What must be, must be. It all depends upon circumstances, and no one can do anything in this case," and soon after that he slept away quietly. He had worked himself to death, and Mrs. Nüssler thought the following words the most suitable that could be found for his epitaph: "He died at his post."
Then Moses died. The old man had lived a just and upright life, and he died as he had lived. He died true to his faith, and when he was dead, he was honoured as one of the tribe of Judah, for he was one of that tribe. David went to the funeral with a torn coat and with ashes on his head, and many Christians followed the old Jew to the grave, and saw him laid in the tomb he had made ready for himself. I firmly believe that he is now in Abraham's bosom, even though Christians also go there. Three people visited his grave the day after he was buried, and these were Hawermann and the two Mrs. von Rambow--Frida was paying a visit at Pümpelhagen--Hawermann dried the tears from his eyes as he looked down at the resting place of the old Jew, and the two ladies each put a garland of fresh flowers on it. When they were walking thoughtfully through the town meadows to Rahnstädt, Hawermann said: "He was a Jew in religion, a Christian in practice."