Seldwyla Folks: Three Singular Tales

by Gottfried Keller

It may easily be supposed that a town of that stripe could have no more distasteful neighbors than Seldwyla, and behind their woods, too, they would forever think up new methods of interfering with and annoying them. Any Seldwylian whom they caught on their own soil was seized and tortured to get at the facts regarding the latest breach of the peace or any other misdemeanor charged upon their neighbor's score. And on their account, to get even, the Seldwyla people made fast every man of Ruechenstein and, on their public market square, administered to him six choice blows with the rod, on the spot which they deemed specially adapted for that purpose. This, though, was as far as they ever went, for they had a prejudice against bloody spectacles, and amongst themselves never indulged in corporal punishments. But in addition to this mild chastisement they would also blacken the long nose of the culprit, and then they would let him run home. That was why there always were in Ruechenstein several specially disgruntled persons with noses dyed black that but slowly were recovering their pristine hue, and these naturally were particularly zealous in trying to unearth miscreants that could be dealt with severely and subjected to castigation or torture.

The Seldwylians on their part kept this black paint constantly ready in a huge iron pot, and upon this was limned the Ruechenstein town escutcheon, and they denominated this pot the "friendly neighbor." This and the huge paint brush belonging to it was always suspended under the arch of the gate fronting towards Ruechenstein. When this tincture had dried up or been used up it was renewed and the occasion utilized to get up a frolicsome procession ending with a gay banquet, all with a view to rendering the neighbor ridiculous. And because of this at one time the latter became so wrathful that their whole town turned out, banners flying, to inflict punishment on the Seldwylians.

But these, informed of this intention, quickly issued forth and waylaid the Ruechenstein hosts, attacking them unawares. However, the Ruechensteiners had marching at the head of their column a dozen of graybearded and fierce-looking civic soldiers, with new ropes tied to the handles of their long swords, and these wore such an unholy mien as to scare the merry Seldwylian blades. The latter, in fact, began to back out, and they were on the point of losing the fight if a clever conceit had not saved them. For just for fun they had been carrying along the punitive pot of paint, etc., "the friendly neighbor," and instead of a banner the long paint brush. With quick intuition the bearer of the latter dipped his brush deeply into the dark liquid, bounded ahead of his comrades like a flash, and bedaubed the faces of the leading rank of foes a sable hue before these knew what he was about. So that all those in front, threatened immediately with this indelible paint, turned and fled, and that nobody of them all further felt like marching in the van of the host. With that the whole outfit began to sway, and a strange terror fell on them all, whereas the Seldwylians now, their courage restored, manfully went up against the men of Ruechenstein, pressing them back towards the rear, in the direction of their own town. With savage laughter the Seldwyla people took advantage of the occasion, and wherever their foes dared to defend themselves the dreaded paint brush came into instant action, handled with supreme skill by means of its long shaft, and in the mêlée there was indeed no lack of real heroism. For twice already the daring painters had been pierced by arrows and fallen to rise no more. But each time some other equally courageous fellow had sprung into the gap, and had treated the foe in the same ignominious manner.

In the end the Ruechensteiners were totally defeated, and they fled with their banner towards the clump of woods which led to their town, with the Seldwyla people on their heels. Barely were they able to find refuge in their town, and to close the gate thereof, and the latter, too, was painted all over by the pursuing foe with the black paint, together with its drawbridge, until the Ruechensteiners, somewhat recovered and collected again, threw potfuls of whitewash upon the heads of the uproarious painters.

But because a few Seldwylians of note who in the heat of combat had penetrated into the town and there been taken prisoner, and also about a dozen of the Ruechensteiners had likewise been seized and held by the victors, there was effected an armistice after the lapse of a few days. The prisoners were exchanged on both sides, and a regular peace was concluded, in which both sides gave way a bit. There had been fighting enough to suit them for a spell, and there was a desire for a mutual adjustment. So it came to pass that both sides made fair promises of future good behavior. The Seldwyla people bound themselves to give up the iron paint pot, and to abolish it forever, and the people of Ruechenstein solemnly relinquished all rights of seizure against Seldwylians out walking or strolling in the Ruechenstein territory, and all other privileges and prerogatives on either side were carefully weighed and mostly abolished.

To confirm this agreement a day was appointed, and as place of meeting was chosen the mountain clearing where the chief fight had occurred. From Ruechenstein came a few of the younger councilmen; for their elders had not succeeded in overcoming their strong feelings of reluctance to consort with their ancient foes on terms of quasi friendship. The Seldwyla people on their part showed up in goodly numbers, brought the "friendly neighbor," the heraldic paint pot, as well as a small cask of their choicest and oldest wine, grown on the municipal vineyards, with them, and also a number of their finest silver or gilt tankards and trenchers which belonged to their municipal treasure. In this way they nicely befooled the delegates from Ruechenstein, glad to escape for even a short spell the rigid regimen of their own town, and they were so charmed at this reception that they, instead of immediately returning after the consummation of their errand, allowed themselves to be inveigled in following the tempters to Seldwyla itself. There they were escorted to the town hall, where a grand feast was awaiting them. Beautiful ladies and maidens attended the occasion, and more and more tankards, beakers, and flagons were set up on the banqueting board, so that with the glitter and sheen of all this precious metal and the gleaming of all these bewitching eyes the poor Ruechensteiners clean forgot their original mission and became as gay as larks. They sang, since they knew no other tunes, one Latin psalm after another, while the Seldwylians on their part hummed wicked drinking songs, and finally they wound up in the midst of the noise by inviting their new Seldwyla friends to make a return visit to their own town, being most particular to include the Seldwyla ladies in the invitation, and promising them the most hospitable reception.

This invitation was accepted unanimously, amidst great enthusiasm on both sides, and when the delegates from Ruechenstein at last departed, they did so under the happiest auspices, smiling blissfully from all the choice wine under their belts, and deeming themselves conquerors of the handsome Seldwyla ladies besides, since a number of these, laughing and in rosy humor, gave them safe conduct as far as the gates of the city.

Of course, things took on a somewhat different hue when these jolly young councilmen of Ruechenstein on the following day awoke in their stern city and had to give an account of their stewardship and of the whole proceedings on the day previous. Little was wanting indeed, and they would have been incarcerated and subjected to ardent tests on the charge of having been bewitched. However, they themselves had also a right to speak with authority, and notwithstanding that the whole matter already seemed to them a mistake on their part, they nevertheless stuck to their bargain, and strongly represented to their elder colleagues that the very honor of the city demanded a resplendent reception of the Seldwylian folks. Their views gained acceptance among a section of the citizens, especially when they described the magnificent table silver that had been brought out to honor them, and when they spoke of the handsome Seldwyla ladies and their gracefulness and beautiful attire. The men were of opinion that such ostentatious hospitality must not go unrebuked and unrivaled, and that it was necessary to reciprocate at the coming return visit of their ancient foes by a display of their own wealth, jeweled and precious tableware glittering in their own iron safes aplenty. The women again were itching to circumvent on such a favorable occasion the strict decrees against too profuse finery from which they had been suffering so long, and under the guise of civic patriotism to make a gaudy display of all their hidden trinkets and gorgeous silks. For in their coffers and lockers there was slumbering enough of costly stuffs to outshine the Seldwyla ladies tenfold, they thought. If that had not been the case they would surely long ago have rebelled against the severe sumptuary decrees in vogue and brought the regiment in power to its fall. Therefore, everything considered, the promise made by the Ruechenstein emissaries was formally approved, to the great grief of the elder and sterner members of the council.

To offset this piece of laxity they were unable to hinder these latter, the graybeards of the city, resolved, however, to enjoy another kind of spectacle on their own account, and thus they began to make their arrangements to have an execution performed on the very day when the Seldwyla people were to dwell within their walls, and thus to dampen at least, so far as they could, the unseemly spirit of merriment which otherwise would go unchecked. And so while the younger members of the council were busy with their preparations for the feast, the others quietly made arrangements for another show after their own heart, and for that purpose they selected a young, fatherless boy who was just then caught in the net of their barbarous laws. It was a very handsome boy of eleven, whose parents had both been engulfed in the recent wars, and who was being educated and taken care of by the town. That is to say, he had been put to board with the parish beadle, a conscienceless and pitiless scoundrel, and there the little fellow--a slender, vigorous and well-formed child enough--had been treated just like a domestic animal, the wife aiding her husband in the task. The boy had been named Dietegen, and this his baptismal name was all he really owned in the world. It was his sole piece of property, his past and his future. He was dressed in rags, and had never even had a holiday garment, so that if it had not been for his good looks he would have presented a miserable appearance. He had to sweep and dust, and to do all the tasks that usually fall to a maid servant, and whenever the beadle's wife did not happen to have anything to do for him in her own house she lent him out to women neighbors for a trifle, there to do anything that might be asked of him. They all thought him, in spite of his strength and skill to do any work demanded of him, a stupid fellow, and this because he obeyed silently all the orders he received and because he never remonstrated. Yet it was the truth that none of the women was able to look him in his fiery eyes for long, and these eyes would often wander about as keen as an eagle's.

Now several days before Dietegen had been sent on an errand to the cooper in order to fetch some vinegar for a lettuce salad that his foster parents wanted to prepare. Their vinegar the couple had been keeping for a long time customarily in a small jug, and this was almost black with age and had always been deemed cheap tin, having been bought many years ago by the mother of the beadle's wife for a couple of pennies from a peddler. But in reality the little jug was of silver. The cooper of whom the vinegar was to be purchased dwelt rather far, in a lonesome place near the city wall. As now the boy came walking along with his small vessel, an ancient Hebrew came past him with his bag, and threw a rapid glance at the curiously fashioned little jug, and stopped the boy with the request to be allowed to examine this vessel more closely. Dietegen handed it to him, and the Jew quickly and secretly scratched the surface of the vessel with his thumb nail, offering then to the astonished boy a pretty crossbow in exchange, and this he produced at once out of a bag made of moth-eaten otterskin, with a few bolts to boot. Boy-like, Dietegen at once seized the weapon and relinquished his small jug to the Jew, who then at once disappeared. Rejoicing in his good fortune the boy now began to aim and shoot at the small gate of the near-by door of a tower, and without being at all disturbed he continued this enticing sport, forgetting everything else, until dusk came and then moonlight, improving his aim steadily, and shooting by the bright light of the orb.