Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine

CHAPTER III.

A SON OF HAM

On no one of the persons interested in Villa Eden, had the startling events that had taken place produced a greater impression than on the Major. He could find no rest at home, and, since hearing Sonnenkamp's statement, he had lost the best possession he had, – his sound, healthful sleep. He wandered about restlessly all day, often talking with Laadi, throwing the dog sometimes a mushroom fried in fat, and then punishing her severely when she tried to eat it. At night, his inward excitement was so great, that he kept talking in a low voice to himself, and occasionally even roused Fräulein Milch in the hope that she would dispel the disturbing thoughts. Sonnenkamp's flight, and now the news that Bella had gone with him, increased the distemper of his mind.

He summoned all his strength when Knopf brought in the negro, received him most cordially, and insisted upon his staying in his house first. Adams consented; and the Major took him at once to the castle, where the work was still going on.

Fräulein Milch confessed to Herr Knopf that she was oppressed by a fear she could not control, and begged him to stay with them; but he regretted that his duties to Prince Valerian made his stay impossible. So far from allaying Fräulein Milch's anxieties, he rather increased them by the satisfaction with which he dwelt upon the consummate knavery of this Adams.

"I take delight," he repeated, "in observing what a savage the fellow is. A savage nature is not soft, not good-natured, but sly as a tiger-cat. After all, how can you expect a slave to be a model of virtue, and an example of all that is good?"

The good-natured, soft-hearted Knopf took a real pleasure in knowing consummate rascals like Sonnenkamp and Adams. When he had discovered evil in a man, he carried it to extremes at once, like all idealists: the man must instantly be a consummate villain. The royal descent that Adams boasted of, was, according to him, nothing but a lie: he was usurping the character of some man of princely blood who had been drowned. "For," added Knopf, with great satisfaction, "he could not have taken the stamped sailing papers from him before he was launched on the sea of eternity."

He declared to Fräulein Milch that he had caught Adams in the lie; for the man had made a mistake in the dates: and Knopf was not a teacher of history, with all the dates at his tongue's end, for nothing.

On the Major's return with Adams, his disease fairly broke out, and he was obliged to take to his bed.

The Doctor came, and administered soothing remedies, which relieved the Major; but he had no soothing remedies for Fräulein Milch. She was to receive these from a man who had no knowledge of medicine. When the Professorin could not be with Fräulein Milch to relieve her loneliness, and keep up her courage, she sent Professor Einsiedel; and to him the poor woman confided all her uneasiness with regard to Adams. The man would engage in no occupation; he could drink and smoke all day; but that was all. He had worked only while he was a slave, and driven to it; and as lackey he had had nothing to do but to sit in fantastic livery upon the box of the royal coach. So there he remained in the house with Fräulein Milch, doing nothing but inspire her with an unconquerable terror. The greater her fear became, the more pains she took to preserve a friendly manner towards him.

Only to Professor Einsiedel did she complain of the presence of the negro.

"I must take care," she said, "not to let this one black man give me a prejudice against the whole race."

"What do you mean by that?"

Fräulein Milch blushed as she replied, —

"If we do not know a foreign nation, or a foreign race, and our preconceived notions of it are unfavorable, we are very apt to consider the solitary individual who may come under our observation as a representative of the whole, and to charge upon the whole his peculiar characteristics and faults. This Adams, now, is a man who will neither learn nor labor. As a slave, he was used to being taken care of, and as a lackey the same: it would be very unjust to let him prejudice me against the whole race, and to conclude that all negroes have these peculiarities."

"Very good, very reasonable," was the Professor's verdict. "But I should like to know how you come to be so carefully on your guard against prejudices. I know very little about women, to be sure; but I had supposed this quality was not common among them."

Fräulein Milch bit her lip. This acknowledgment of the claim of every individual to be judged by his own merits had had a peculiar origin in herself; but she could not tell it. She felt the Professor's keen glance fixed upon her face, and fancied he must have discovered her secret. She waited, expecting to hear it from his lips, but he was silent: after a pause, she continued, —

"Do you not think with me that the blacks will never be free until they free themselves, until a Moses appears from among their own number, and leads them out of bondage? And do you not think, also, that this generation which has been in bondage must perish in the wilderness, and that the new generation, that has grown up in freedom, will be the one to enter the promised land of freedom?"

"You seem very familiar with the Old Testament," said the Professor.

Fräulein Milch colored up to the border of her white cap.

"But you have the right idea," continued Professor Einsiedel. "I hope you understand me. The black race has developed nothing original: as far as we can yet see, it contributes nothing to the intellectual possessions of the human family. Certainly no outsider can free them; but our new age, the only redeemer which we acknowledge, culture, will reach and deliver them. Are you acquainted with the recent investigations into the Japhetic races?"

"Alas! no."

"Certainly; I forgot myself. But you must know that the sons of Ham, this, of course, you have learned from the Bible, are without a history: they bring nothing of their own conquest, acquisition, creation, into the great Pantheon. It is the Semitic, Japhetic races that must free the descendants of Ham."

The Professor was about to lay before Fräulein Milch the result of the latest investigations; to tell her what extraordinary discoveries had been made among the Egyptian papyri; how it was proved that the author or the compiler of the Bible had not understood Egyptian; in fact, that the contents of the Bible had existed before in Egyptian writings, and the deliverance of the slaves was the only one great act of the mythical Moses in the whole ancient world. In his delight at finding so good a listener, he was about to deliver himself at great length, when Claus came in, having been sent by the Doctor to take Adams home with him. Fräulein Milch whispered in his ear that he would have difficulty in making Adams work, at which he cried with a smile, —

"Yes, yes: slaves and rich men are alike in that. The slave does nothing because his master feeds him, and the rich man does nothing because his money feeds him."

Fräulein Milch impressed upon Claus that he must treat the black man kindly, and remember that he did not represent the black race. The field-guard laughed heartily, and carried Adams off to his house.

The dogs barked fiercely, and the women screamed in terror, when the negro appeared. The screams soon ceased; but, whenever Adams went out of the house, the dogs set up a fresh chorus of barks.

CHAPTER IV.

BELLA'S LEGACY

When the Doctor came with the Professorin, he was highly rejoiced that Adams had left the house, and still more that the Major was able to sit up in bed, and smoke his long pipe. After enjoining upon him great quiet, he went with the two women into the sitting-room, and there informed them that he had reason to be proud; for Bella had written to him from Antwerp, and to no one else. He read the letter to them which was as follows, —

"You alone are no puppet; you never made a pretence of friendship for me, and therefore you shall have a keepsake. I give you my parrot. The parrot is the masterpiece of creation: he says nothing but what he is taught. Adieu!

"BELLA."

The ladies exchanged glances of surprise; and Fräulein Milch rejoiced the Doctor by saying, for once in her life, an unkind word; for she could not help expressing pleasure that Frau Bella had come to such an end. The Doctor, on the other hand, said, in a tone of complaint, —

"I feel a want now that she is gone. I miss in her a sort of barometer of thought and an interesting object of study. Strange! now that this woman is gone we see, for the first time, how widely her influence was extended, – more widely perhaps than was her due. But still the story pleases me, as a proof that there still exist persons of courage and strong will."

"You like eccentricity," suggested the Professorin.

"Oh, no! What seems eccentric to others appears to me the only natural and consistent course, Bella could not have acted otherwise than she has: this very step was a part of her heroism. Your son can tell you that I suspected something of this sort before it happened. There is much in common between Bella and Sonnenkamp. Both are quick and clear in judgment where others are concerned; but, when self is touched, they are tyrannical, malicious, and self-asserting. And, now that she is fairly gone, I may say that she has fled a murderess: to be sure, she did not kill Clodwig with poison or dagger, but she smote him to the heart with killing words and thoughts. He confessed to me that it was so, and now I may repeat it."

"I am confounded," said the Professorin. "With all her culture, how were such things possible?"

"That was just it," broke in the Doctor delighted. "All this intellectual life was nothing to Frau Bella: she found herself in it, she knew not how. She had to destroy something, or what would she have done with all this culture? Formerly there was hypocrisy only in religion; now there is hypocrisy in education. But, no: Frau Bella was no hypocrite, neither was she really ill-natured; she was simply crude."

"Crude?"

"Yes. Thought of others educates at once the heart and the mind; Frau Bella thought only and always of herself; of what she had to say and to feel."

"Do you think," asked the Professorin with some hesitation, "that these two persons can be happy together for a single hour?"

"Certainly not, according to our ideas of happiness. They have no real affection for each other: pride and disappointment, and a desire to shock the world, have induced them to make their escape together. There is one other motive which persons like us cannot enter into. I tried for a long time to discover it, and believe at last that I have succeeded: it is the consciousness of beauty. I am a beauty: that is a principle on which a whole system is founded. Other people are only made for the purpose of seeing and admiring the beauty. Bella committed an act of treason against herself when she married Clodwig: she could not have done it except in a moment of forgetfulness of this great principle. But how can we judge such people aright? The longer I live, the more clearly I see that human beings are not alike: they are of different species."

"You want to provoke us by heresies."

"By no means: that is the reason why this anti-slavery fever is distasteful to me. This claiming equality for all men is a wrong."

"A wrong?"

"Yes. Men are not all the same kind of beings; one is a nightingale that sings on a tree; another is a frog that croaks in the marsh. Now, to require of the frog that he should sing up in a tree is a wrong, a perversion of Nature. Let the frog alone in his marsh, he is very well off there, and to him and his wife his song sounds as sweet as that of the bird to his mate. Men are of different kinds."

The Major called from his room to know what the Doctor was talking so loudly and excitedly about. Fräulein Milch soothed him by telling him it was nothing for a sick man to hear, though she confessed that they had been talking of Bella. As she re-entered the sitting-room, a messenger arrived from Villa Eden with intelligence which summoned the Doctor and the Professorin thither instantly: Frau Ceres was dangerously ill.

The Doctor and the Professorin made all haste back to the Villa.

CHAPTER V.

THE BLACK HORROR

"Henry, come! Henry, come back! these are your trees, and your house. Come back! I will dance with you. Henry, Henry!"

Such was Frau Ceres' incessant cry.

She refused all nourishment; she insisted on waiting till her husband said "Dear child, do take something." Only after the most urgent entreaties of Fräulein Perini, did she at last consent to eat something. She wanted to embroider, and took up her work; but the next moment she laid it down again.

Weeping and lamenting, she went through the gardens and greenhouses.

Fräulein Perini had the greatest difficulty in soothing her.

Then Frau Ceres reprimanded the gardener for raking over the paths. The marks of her husband's feet were in the gravel, and they must not be removed, or he would die.

At other times, she would sit at the window for hours together, looking out upon the hills and the clouds, and the river where the boats were sailing up and down; and all the while she would be grieving in a low voice to herself, —

"Henry, I grieved you sorely, I wounded you; you may whip me as you would your slaves; only let me be with you, forgive me. Do you remember that day when you came out to me, and Cæsar played the harp, and I danced in my blue frock and my gold-colored shoes? Do you remember?" – "Manna," she suddenly cried; "Manna, bring your harp and play for me. I want to dance; I am still pretty. Come, Henry!"

Suddenly she turned to Fräulein Perini, and asked, "He is coming back, is he not?" Her tone was so quiet and natural as for the moment to re-assure them.

"Tell him he shall marry Frau Bella when I die," she suddenly began again, her great eyes gazing vacantly before her. "Frau Bella is a handsome widow, very handsome; and he shall give her my ornaments, they will look so well on her."

"Pray, do not speak so."

"Come, we must see that his heaths are well taken care of. He taught me all about them. We will have some good bog-earth dried and pounded and sifted. Then, when he comes home, he will say, 'That was very clever of you, Ceres: you did that well.'"

She went with Fräulein Perini to the hot-house, and gave intelligent directions to the head gardener that he should be careful to keep the heaths very moist, and not in too high a temperature.

Fräulein Perini sent one of the boys who was working in the garden to fetch Eric. Her anxiety was so great, she could not bear to be left longer alone with Frau Ceres.

Frau Ceres appeared very composed. After examining all the heaths, and lifting each one up to see that the saucers were kept properly damp, she left the hot-house, saying as she went, —

"It is quite time that Captain Dournay should learn the care of plants. These scholars fancy there is nothing they can learn from us: I can assure them they can learn a great deal from my husband. There are more than two hundred heaths at the Cape. Yes, you may take my word for it; he told me so. Now let us go back into the house."

On their way, they came to an open space, where was a pond, and a little fountain playing.

Suddenly Frau Ceres uttered a piercing cry. Down the broad path towards them came the black man Adams, with Roland on one arm, and Manna on the other.

"You are changed into a negro! Who did that to you? Henry! Fie, Henry! Take off the black skin!" With piercing cries, she threw herself upon Adams, and tore the clothes from his body; then sank lifeless on the ground before him. They were just bearing her into the house, when Doctor Richard and the Professorin arrived.

Frau Ceres never woke.

Her body was laid in the great music room; and the flowers that Sonnenkamp had so tenderly cared for were set about his wife's corpse. Here in the music room, where the young people had so often sung and danced – would there ever be dancing and music here again?

The friends came, and kissed and embraced Roland; Lina also appeared, and embraced Manna in silence. By a pressure of the hand, a silent embrace, each one expressed to the mourners his sympathy, his desire to help them.

Pranken appeared also among the mourners, and, with Fräulein Perini, knelt beside the body.

After a blessing had been pronounced in the church, the funeral-train moved towards the burial-ground.

The members of the music-club had been gathered together by Knopf and Fassbender, and sang at the open grave. Roland stood leaning on Eric, while the Mother and aunt Claudine supported Manna.

Eric's thoughts reverted to that day in spring when he had sat over his wine with Pranken, and had looked out at the churchyard where the nightingale was singing. Who could have foretold then that he would be standing here a mourner at the grave of the mother of his betrothed, and of his pupil?

The music ceased, and the Priest advanced to the edge of the grave. There was a hush for a while over the whole assembly. The chattering of the magpies, and the screaming of the nut-peckers, was heard in the trees.

After repeating a prayer in a low tone, the Priest raised his voice, and cried, —

"Thou poor rich child from the New World! Now thou art in the new world indeed. Thou hast gone hence with thy sins unforgiven, in delusion, in frenzy. Thou hast left thy children behind to atone, to suffer, to sacrifice, for thee. They will do it: they must do it. Children, God is your father; the church is your mother. Hearken unto me. Here we stand beside an open grave. Ye can live without us, without the church; but, when ye come to die, ye must call upon us: and, though ye have scorned us, we shall come full of grace and compassion; for God so commandeth us. O thou departed one! now thou art ennobled; for death gives nobility: thou art decked with ornaments fairer than thy diamonds; for, with all thy worldliness, thou didst have a believing spirit. Grief set her crown of thorns upon thee: thou hast suffered much, and thou wilt be forgiven. But I call upon ye who stand here this day alive: Ye can build country houses, and furnish them sumptuously; but the prince of all life, which is death, shall come and mow you down, and ye shall moulder in the ground. A house of boards, that is the country house which is decreed to every one, deep in the bosom of the earth. But woe to those men whose holy ark is the fire-proof safe! The men of so-called philosophy and natural science come and flatter the believers in the fire-proof safe, and when the bolt from heaven falls, they say, 'There is a lightening-rod on our house, we have nothing to fear.' And if death comes, what say ye then? Ye have no answer. O ye poor, rich children! Turn unto us! The arms of mercy are open to receive you; they alone can defend you. To that rich young man the answer was: – I speak not of how the wealth was won from which the young soul will not part; I only call – no, it is not I who call – my passing breath but bears the eternal word. Leave all that thou hast and follow me. Wilt thou too, go hence weeping, because thou canst not give up the riches of the world? Oh! I call thee – no, He who has brought this day upon us, who looks down from the height of heaven into this grave – He calls to thee: Rend asunder the bonds of slavery! Thou art thyself a slave: be free! And thou, noble maiden, who hast the highest in thyself, look down into this grave, and forward to the time when such a grave shall open for thee. Save thyself! Despise not the hand that will save thee. Days of sorrow, nights of desolation will come upon thee. In the day thou wilt ask, 'Where am I?' and for what is my life on the earth? And thou wilt send forth thy voice weeping into the night, and wilt shudder at the night of death? Thou knowest what is salvation; thou bearest it in thyself. And now? Faithless – thrice faithless! Faithless to thyself, to thy friends, to thy God!" Beating himself upon the breast, he cried in a voice broken by tears, —