CHAPTER XIX.
"'The story that I am going to tell now happened here in Hermannsburg.'"
"A great many things seem to have happened in Hermannsburg," Flora remarked.
"Yes. Just think what it must be to live in a village with a history.
"'It is, for one thing, a beautiful story for passion week; and then it gives a lovely picture of the relation in which princes and their vassals at that time stood to one another. The Thirty Years' War had brought frightful misery over our country. Havoc and devastation had come even into the churches. So, for example, in this place; the imperial troops had not only plundered the church and carried away everything that was of value; for to be sure the people here were Lutheran heretics; but they had even broken to pieces all the bells in the tower, and driven off no less than five baggage waggons full of brass metal, to be recast for cannon. And the last one, the big bell, was broken up and about to be carried away by the Croats; the horses were even put to the waggon; when suddenly the blast of trumpets and the battle-cry, "God with us!" announced the coming of Lutheran troops, and scared the Croats away. So the metal was left behind. After the Thirty Years' War, gradually the people gathered together again; but the number of them was very small, and many a farm had to lie waste for want of both farmer and farming stock. There are said to have been at first only ten families come back to our parish village, with four oxen and two cows. Besides all that, towards the end of the war epidemics were constantly prevailing, so that, for example, in this parish, in the thirty years from 1650 to 1680, three pastors died one after another of contagious epidemics; namely, Andreas Kruse'" (that was the fellow who stood out so for his church vessels), "Paulus Boccatius, Johannes Buchholz; and the fourth Justus Theodor Breyhan, who died in 1686, was three times at death's door. Those were troubled times!
"'This Breyhan was a childlike good man, whom his parish held in great love and honour, for both in spiritual and in material things there was no better counsellor for them. Like a true father he stood by the bedside of the sick and the dying, to show them how to die happy, and like a good father he comforted the survivors, and by the live and powerful words of his preaching, poured new strength and fresh courage of faith into all hearts. With all that, this man was a singular lover of the sound of the bell. In his opinion it was a remarkable thing, that the heavenly King would allow his bells to be cast of the same metal in which earthly princes cast their guns; and his highest wish was, to get a great church bell again. The metal indeed was still on hand; but who would have it cast? There was only a little bell still hanging up in the tower, which was called the Bingel bell, and dated back to the year 1495 (it is there still) and had been too insignificant to tempt the Croats. With that on Sundays people must be rung to church, and with that the tolling for the dead must be done at funerals. It did, it is true, give out a fine, lovely, clear note; but the good dear Breyhan often wept great tears when he heard the sound of it; it seemed to him that it was too disrespectful to the great King in heaven, that he should have no better bell than that. He could hardly sleep at last for thinking of it. Especially at the high festival days and in Passion week, and on occasion of funerals, he was in great uneasiness. Then it was in the fast season of the year 1680, he was again sick unto death, and in his fevered fancies he was continually praying to the dear Lord that He would not let him die before he could have the bell properly tolled at his burying. He recovered, and on Good Friday was again able to preach. The congregation wept for joy at having their beloved pastor among them again, and never perhaps have more ardent thanks gone up to God from the parish than did that day. The time of the Easter festival passed by, and they rejoiced with one another over the glorious resurrection of the Lord Jesus. The third day of the Easter festival (at that time there were still always three feast days), he told the congregation that they must pray for him faithfully; for the next day he was going on a journey after a bell which in his illness he had promised to the Lord.
"'The next morning his honest old parish farmer Ebel was at the door with a little farm waggon, and asked him where they were to go? and whether it was to be a long or a short journey? You must know the man was under obligation to take several long journeys for his pastor, lasting some days, and several short expeditions of a day only each. "It shall be a short one for to-day," the pastor answered. "I think with God's help to ride to Zelle." So after Ebel had attended morning worship in the parsonage, for he would not willingly have missed that, Breyhan mounted into the waggon, set himself down upon a spread of straw, took his hat off and said reverently—"In God's name!"—and then they went forward, step by step, as the manner was then; for in those days people were not in such a hurry as they are now. Before the city they stopped, and with prayer and thanksgiving ate the breakfast they had brought along with them. Then Breyhan took his vestments out of a clean linen cloth and put them on, and one could see by his lips that he was speaking to himself or praying. Good Ebel felt himself growing quite devotional at the sight, and he drove into the city with twice the spirit he had had before, because now everybody might see that he had a pastor in his waggon.'"
Meredith paused a moment to glance up at the river and hills opposite, and Maggie broke forth,
"The people in that country seem to be very unlike the people in this country?"