Debit and Credit / Translated from the German of Gustav Freytag

by Gustav Freytag

"It is on that side that our greatest danger lies," said the baron to Anton on the morning after the memorable market-day. "The villagers are our natural outposts. If you can induce the people to establish a systematic watch, let it be on the north; we will then try to maintain a regular communication with them. Do not forget the beacons and places of rendezvous. As you are already on such friendly terms with the rustics, you will be able to manage that part of the business best. Meanwhile, I shall drive, accompanied by young Sturm, to the next circle, and try to come to the same understanding with the landed gentry there."

Accordingly, Anton rode off to Neudorf. There he found that fresh evil tidings had arrived in the night; some German villages had been surprised by armed bands, the houses searched for arms, and many young people dragged away. No one was working in the fields at Neudorf. The men sat in the bar of the public house, or stood about without any purpose, every hour expecting an attack.

Anton's horse was immediately surrounded by a dense crowd, and in a few minutes the bailiff had gathered the whole population together. Anton proceeded to state what might be done to guard the village against the danger of a sudden surprise; for instance, he advised the calling out of a regular peasant militia, sentinels on the road along the border, patrols, a rallying-place in the village, and other precautions which the baron had pointed out. "In this way," said he, "you will be able to procure our help in a short time, to defend yourselves against a weak foe, or to summon the military to your aid against a strong. In this way you will save your wives and children, your household goods, and, perhaps, your cattle from plunder and ill treatment. It will be no small labor, indeed, to keep watch thus night and day, but your village is a large one. Perhaps these measures will soon be enjoined by the government, but it is safer for all not to wait for that."

His pressing representations and the authority of the intelligent bailiff brought the community to a unanimous resolve. The young men of the village took up the matter eagerly, many professing themselves ready to buy a gun; and the women began to pack up their most valuable effects in chests and bundles.

From Neudorf, Anton went on to Kunau, where similar regulations were made; and finally it was arranged that the young men of both villages should come every Sunday afternoon to the baron's estate to be drilled.

When Anton returned to the castle, the existing means of defense on the estate itself had to be taken into consideration. A martial fever prevailed in the German colony: all were affected by it, even the most peaceful: the shepherd and his dog Crambo, who had, by night patrols, sentinels, and other disturbances, been worked up to such a state of excitement that he took to flying at the legs of all strangers—an act he had often rebuked in his young associate. All thoughts turned on weapons of warfare and means of defense. Alas! the mood of mind was all that could be desired, but the forces were very small. To make up for that, the staff was a distinguished one. First of all, there was the baron—an invalid, it is true, but great in theory; then Karl and the forester, as respective leaders of the cavalry and infantry; while Anton was not to be despised in the commissariat and fortification department.

The baron now left his room each day to hold a council of war. He superintended the drill, heard reports from surrounding districts, and sent off messengers to the German circles. A remnant of military ardor lit up his face. He good-humoredly rallied the baroness about her fears, spoke words of encouragement to his German tenantry, and threatened to have all the evil-disposed in the village locked up at once, and kept on bread and water. It was touching to all to see how the blind man stood erect, musket in hand, to show certain niceties of manipulation to the forester, and then bent his ear down to ascertain whether the latter had thoroughly acquired them. Even Anton put on something of a martial panoply. He stuck a cockade in his cap; his voice assumed a tone of military severity, and ever since the Rosmin day he took to wearing an immense pair of water-proof boots, and his step fell heavy on the stair. He would have laughed at himself if any one had asked for what purpose he gave this particular outward expression to his state of mind; but no one did ask. It seemed natural and congruous to all, and especially to Karl, who never himself appeared but in such remnants of his dress uniform as he had carefully preserved, and who curled his mustache, and sang military songs all day long. As the greatest danger was to be apprehended from the lawless in their own village, he summoned all the men who had once served, and, with the aid of the forester, who was respected as a magician, made an impressive speech, addressed them as comrades, drew his sword, and cried, "We military men will keep order among the boors here." Then ordering a few quarts of brandy, he sang wild martial songs in chorus with them, gave them new cockades, and constituted them a species of militia. Thus, for a time at least, he gained a hold over the better part of the population, and heard through them of any conspiracy that was carried on in the tavern.

When the whole force of the estate was mustered before the castle walls, the men stared in amazement at each other. They had all been metamorphosed by the last few days. The agent looked like a wild man from some outlandish swamp, where he daily stood up to the hips in water. Those from the new farm resembled forms of a vanished era. The forester, with his close-cut hair, long beard, and weather-beaten coat, looked an old mercenary of Wallenstein's army, who had been asleep in the forest depths for two hundred years, and now reappeared on the stage, violence and cruelty being again in the ascendant. The shepherd marched next to him, resembling a pious Hussite, with the broad brim of his round hat hanging low on his shoulders, a stout leathern girdle round his loins, and in his hand a long crook, to which he had fastened a bright steel point. His phlegmatic face and thoughtful eyes made him as strong a contrast as possible to the forester. All in all, the armed force of the estate did not amount to more than twenty men; consequently, it was very difficult to maintain any regular system of watching, either in the castle or the village. Each individual, it was plain, would have to make the greatest efforts, but none of them complained.

The next step was to see to the securing of the castle—to protect it from any nocturnal assault in the rear. Anton had a strong wooden fence run up from one wing to another. Thus a tolerably large court-yard was inclosed, and an open shed was roughly built on to the walls, to shelter fugitives and horses, if need were. The windows of the lower story were also strongly boarded; and as all the entrances were on this side of the house, strangers were allowed as little ingress as possible. The well that supplied the castle lay outside the fence, between the farm-yard and the castle: on which account, a large water-butt was made and filled each morning.

Next came tidings from Rosmin. The locksmith appeared, after being repeatedly sent for, to strengthen bolts and bars. He brought with him military greetings from the militia, and the fact that a company of infantry had entered the town. "But there are but few of them," said he, "and we militiamen have severe duty."