Chapter II: A Week in New York (2)
"No one thinks of shooting them," smiled the doctor; "for Heaven's sake, who would waste a charge of powder and shot upon a miserable partridge, when he can get a deer with it? But you'll find all that out when you get there."
All the emigrants appeared to have made up their minds, and they were as eager about the purchase of, and journey to, that spot of land, as though they had had their eyes upon that little point, between the Mississippi and the small town of Jackson in Tennessee, ever since they left home. They would not hear of any other state but Tennessee, and the committee closed the bargain with Dr. Normann on the same evening, paid the purchase money, and received from him the deed, which was handed over to the elder Siebert for safe custody. The latter had hung back a good deal pending the treaty, and returned very superficial answers to several questions addressed to him concerning the condition of the country (which, according to his own account, he had travelled through). However, he concluded the purchase in legal form, and took possession of the muniment of title. He paid the purchase-money out of the funds which remained in his hands, and merely called the emigrants' attention to the fact that the time was at hand when they would have to pay up their remaining contribution, so that the committee might not be fettered in acting for them according to the best of their ability. He appeared to have formed an acquaintance with Dr. Normann very quickly, and towards evening left the tavern in his company.
It now only remained to determine the route which the emigrants should take to reach their new home; but all were soon agreed upon this subject, for every one was afraid of another sea-voyage, and the road by Albany, Buffalo, thence down the Ohio to Portsmouth, from which last-named place they could reach the Big Halchee by steamer, was adopted. It is true that Helldorf, who by this time had become pretty well acquainted with their situation, had recommended them to sell the greater part of their baggage, particularly the ploughs and axes, &c. which they had brought with them; but no one would listen to this, and at last the third day was fixed for their departure.
From New York, they were to start in a steamer for Albany, thence by rail as far as Utica, and from Utica by canal, over Buffalo, to Portsmouth. Their society consisted of sixty-five individuals in all, including women and children, and hitherto everything promised a prosperous journey; the weather, besides, was splendid, and glad hope animated every breast.
Werner, however, persuaded by Helldorf, had not joined the society, and did not intend to follow it for some time to come, as he wished, first of all, to visit Philadelphia and Baltimore. Preparations for the departure of the settlers were now in full activity, and many things which they considered they could not calculate on meeting with in the interior were bought in New York. M. Von Schwanthal, in particular, provided himself with powder and shot, and promised to find fresh meat constantly for the whole party.
Next day was Sunday, and the Oldenburghers had betaken themselves to the German church betimes, to attend divine service; but the shoemaker was anxious to hear an English sermon for once, and easily persuaded the tailor and Schmidt to accompany him: the brewer remained in bed.
The three, therefore, dressed in their Sunday's best, traversed the quiet and almost empty streets, until they came opposite to a church, whence the loud and thundering voice of the preacher resounded. Without long consideration they entered, and found themselves in a small but pretty well filled church, fitted up after the ordinary fashion of evangelical churches, with a high pulpit and small altar. The preacher appeared particularly inspired, and the words seemed "to flow of themselves from his mouth," as the shoemaker expressed it, not a syllable of which, however, could they understand.
Pressed forward by those who arrived later than themselves, our adventurers had got promoted nearly to the centre of the church, and stood almost opposite to the priest; but the countenance of the latter became constantly wilder, his movements more violent, and the little tailor had twice already gently touched the shoemaker, and expressed a wish to retire, when suddenly a woman, who was sitting close beside them, uttered a heart-breaking sigh; Meier turned his head quickly, and saw that she began to turn up her eyes, and gasp for breath.
"I say, there's a woman taken ill!" he said, in a low voice, to Schmidt, who stood just before him.
"Oh, she'll get better again presently, I dare say!" said Schmidt, pacifying him.
But just the same sort of sighing and groaning arose from several sides, and the stout woman near them seemed especially affected by something or other, for her sighs followed each other faster and faster, her limbs began to tremble, and everything showed that she must be dreadfully excited. All at once, a change came over the whole spirit of the fat woman; her gaze was fixed on the tailor, who tremblingly followed her every movement with his eyes; her nostrils dilated, her mouth opened, and, uttering a loud scream, she jumped up.
"Oh Lord!" cried the tailor, and his knees knocked together. Schmidt looked round for the first time at the inspired one, who moved up and down, stamped with her feet, clenched her hands, and cried and rejoiced.
Schmidt cast his eyes round about, but to his inexpressible surprise nobody seemed to trouble himself about the stout woman; the people did not so much as look round; and as he thought that she must be possessed by an evil spirit, at least, he pressed past the tailor, who made room for him with the greatest pleasure, and took hold of the arms of the woman, who was striking about her violently.
"Break open her thumbs--break open her thumbs!" the shoemaker exclaimed; and Schmidt, poor fellow, good-naturedly tried to comply, when a dreadful cry met his ear; at the same time he felt himself suddenly seized simultaneously by the collar, by the arms, and by the shoulders, and before he could exactly comprehend what was taking place, or what was intended, he lay peacefully alongside of the shoemaker in the street. Scarce had they had time to pick themselves up and look about them, when the door opened once more, and the tailor, without his hat, made a mighty spring, clean over the pavement and gutter, into the carriage-road, where he fell nearly doubled together, but quickly gathering himself up again, and either not heeding or else not hearing the calls of his comrades, he flew along the street in wild haste, till on his turning the corner they lost sight of him.
The passers-by began to take notice, so the shoemaker took hold of Schmidt's arm, and they forsook together a spot where their presence began to attract attention. It was not until they had got into the vicinity of their inn again that Schmidt stopped in surprise, and, staring at the other, said--"Well, I beg of you!--did you ever experience the like in your whole life?"
"For the first time to-day!" the shoemaker replied. "But where can the little one be?"
"We shall be obliged to have him advertised in the newspapers," Schmidt said; "for, with such a start as he took at the church, he'll never stop again till he drops. How he ran, to be sure!"
"Yes; and what did they really turn us out for, after all?" asked the shoemaker; "perhaps it was because you went to the assistance of the fat woman?"
"Ask them," growled Schmidt; "rough people, they are. Well! if they only wait till they catch me in one of their churches again!"
They had, meanwhile, reached their abode, and found the two young people, Helldorf and Werner, who were sitting in the public room, conversing with the brewer. But when the shoemaker and Schmidt told them the story of their wrongs, Helldorf burst into a loud laugh, and explained to them that they had got into a congregation of Methodists, and had offended the latter not a little by laying hands upon a sister who was divinely inspired. But all felt anxious now about the little tailor, who had fled in such fearful haste, no one knew whither, when the latter unexpectedly made his appearance at the door, with haggard eyes, pale colourless cheeks, and quite chopfallen. He really looked very ill.
The landlady, however, quickly filled him up a good bumper of bitters, and he recovered a little by degrees, though it was quite half an hour before he was in a condition to relate, how the fat woman, whilst Schmidt and the shoemaker were being turned out, had attacked him, and (he protested solemnly, and swore that it was true) had tried to bite him; that he recollected nothing further, except having jumped up, and fled with all the strength at his command.
"But, I say, where's your hat?" asked the brewer.
"That must be lying in the church still!" sighed the tailor.
"Yes, but won't you go back, and fetch it?" said the brewer.
"_I!_" exclaimed the tailor, astonished to the last degree; "_I_ go back into _that_ church,--to _that_ fat woman! Brewer! if the whole church were filled with hats, (of the best quality, five and a quarter dollars a piece), and I might have them _all_, I wouldn't put a foot across the threshold." It was useless to press him further; he never saw his hat more.
Mrs. Hehrmann, with her daughters, had by this time recovered from the troubles and hardships of the sea-voyage, and Bertha, in particular, was as blooming as a rose; but she bowed her little head very sadly and sorrowfully when Werner, while sitting beside them and Helldorf, in the little room, on the Saturday evening, for the first time intimated that they would not continue their journey together, but that he proposed, in the first instance, to visit the neighbouring towns.
"I had believed that you would have joined our settlement," she whispered, at last; "but it seems, however,----"
"But, child," her mother interrupted her, "Mr. Werner, no doubt, has his own sufficient reasons, and when he has attended to his business here, perhaps may visit us in Tennessee. He knows that he will be always welcome to us."
"I need not tell you, my dear madam," answered Werner, "how I appreciate your goodness, and how grateful I am for the friendly sympathy you have constantly shown me; and I hope to be able to prove it hereafter. At present, however, I am compelled to visit Philadelphia as well as Baltimore, to deliver several letters of introduction, which may, perhaps, be of service to me hereafter; it would, therefore, be imprudent in me to neglect them. But, notwithstanding, it is quite possible that I may reach the locality of your settlement soon after you, as Mr. Helldorf tells me that there is a nearer way over the hills."
"Quite right," replied the latter; "and it will probably so happen; for, my dear Werner, if nothing else detain you besides the result of your letters of introduction, your time will not be much taken up. One invitation to dinner at each place where you have delivered such a letter, and you have gone through it all; it is even questionable whether he to whom you were recommended may know you on the following day."
"But, Helldorf, my dear fellow----"
"I know it--I have seen it happen so often. But there's nothing like a trial, and that is soon made."
At that moment, a tap was heard at the door, which opened, and in walked Dr. Normann, with the most agreeable face in the world. He inquired very anxiously after the health of the Hehrmanns, and gave them such good and reasonable advice as to their future conduct, in their new and unaccustomed mode of life, related on the occasion so many experiences and events from his own life, and altogether managed to make himself so agreeable, that even Helldorf lost a portion of his former unaccountable aversion to him, and became more conversable and friendly.
The doctor was particularly obliging to Werner; and, upon hearing that he was going into the interior, promised him some excellent introductions, such as must assure the best reception to him.
"But of what use will they be, doctor?" asked Helldorf; "you know yourself that in this country----"
"I know--perfectly aware of it!" the doctor interrupted him. "But rely upon me, you shall have introductions, to-morrow morning, from a man which will ensure you the reception of a son in his house; and yet I give you my word that, except his name, I myself know as little of the man as you do."
"The doctor speaks in riddles," said Mrs. Hehrmann, smiling; "if you could do that, you would be a conjuror indeed!"
"Anything but that, madam; all that is required is a little knowledge of human nature. But to-morrow I will give my proofs."
"I say, Doctor, you were speaking, not long since, of an invention of yours, on account of which you were staying here," said Helldorf. "Might I ask of what kind it is?"
"Haven't I told you about my invention yet?" simpered Normann. "Yes, I hope that it will make some noise; I have discovered the long-lost art of making inconsumable light. It was known to the ancients, for in long-closed-up sepulchres burning lamps have been found. I am already in communication with the President on the subject, and am going to Washington next week, on that account."
"Why, doctor, this discovery must be of inestimable value!" exclaimed Werner.
"A hundred thousand dollars have been offered me for it in Germany, and the same sum in France; but I am a Republican--Republican, body and soul--and my invention is not to be bought by any king! It was in Arkansas that----"
"Were you ever in Arkansas?" Helldorf burst out, jumping from his chair, and gazing narrowly into the doctor's countenance. The latter appeared to change colour, but soon regained his self-possession, and, looking the young man fixedly in the face, and with a somewhat forced smile, said--
"No; you did not hear me out. It was in Arkansas that I was about to make some experiments on the subject, but at that time I was taken ill at Cincinnati, and could not undertake the journey."
"I beg pardon," said Helldorf; "it was an old recollection--your face seemed so familiar to me."
Again the colour left the Doctor's cheeks a little, but his features remained unmoved, and he said, smiling--"He who lives in America sees many faces, for half the population is constantly on the move; that among them there should frequently be people who resemble each other, is very natural. But," he broke off, abruptly, "I have yet some little business to transact. As to our engagement, Mr. Werner, I am ready to keep my word to-morrow morning. Call for me at half-past eight. Till then, farewell! Mrs. Hehrmann--ladies, I take my leave."
When the Doctor had left them, Helldorf spoke only in monosyllables, and shortly afterwards also withdrew, accompanied by Werner.
"Now I'm sure of it!" he exclaimed, as he wandered down the Sabbath-still street; "now I've got on the fellow's track. Arkansas--Arkansas!--that's the place where I have seen him!"
"But he has never been there," suggested Werner.
"Lies! lies!" exclaimed Helldorf. "I saw how he changed colour, for he recognised me, too, at that moment! But he wore a beard then, which disguised him, and passed by a different name. There he was Dr. Wähler--I am certain of it--and was challenged for cheating at play, and secretly shot his challenger on his way to the ground!"
"That would be horrible!" said Werner.
"It is him--I know him!" Helldorf declared. "Now Heaven have mercy upon the poor settlers, for there can no longer be any doubt but that the rascal has cheated them!"
"But how can that be possible?" Werner objected. "You yourself pronounce the deed correct and genuine, the land must be in existence! I can't conceive----"
"Time will show!" Helldorf exclaimed. "But that this is the villain, I could swear! I am only curious to know in what manner he will procure letters of introduction for you to-morrow."
"Is it not possible to bring him to account, if he has been guilty of anything so dreadful?" asked Werner.
"How!" replied Helldorf, with a shrug of the shoulders. "Where are the proofs?--where are the people now who then lived in yonder scene? Oh, my dear Werner, a year--a single year--makes a wonderful change here in America! However, I have not yet done with this villain, for he whom he shot was my best friend; the good Doctor may, therefore, look out for himself, if his path crosses mine! But now good night, Werner. Say not a word of what I have just confided to you, and let him give you the letters of introduction to-morrow morning; perhaps, we shall get at some explanation of the Doctor's character."
Werner did not retire to rest until late, and wild dreams disturbed his slumber; he was, therefore, up early, and at the hour appointed stood at the doctor's room. He was just dressed, and met him at the door, and taking the young man's arm, confidentially, walked with him to an hotel in Chatham Street, where he inquired whether a certain Mr. Smith, from the country, was staying there?
On receiving the waiter's reply in the affirmative, he told him to announce two strangers who wished to speak to Mr. Smith upon business; and, turning with a smile to Werner, who asked him once more in astonishment whether he really did not know the man, said, "You may convince yourself of that."
Mr. Smith immediately asked the gentlemen up stairs, and the waiter showed them into a small, clean-looking room, where the stranger stepped forward to meet them, and politely asked them to be seated.
"Mr. Smith," Dr. Normann now began, "although I am a complete stranger to you, still I have heard of your considerable tracts of land, and of the advantageous position of your proposed town. A party of Germans have arrived here, and another ship is expected to follow in a few weeks, all of whom intend to settle somewhere in the interior. This young man, Mr. Werner,"--the American bowed,--"is commissioned to look about for a suitable spot for them, and upon my advice, purposes visiting your neighbourhood. If I might request of you the favour of some introductions for my friend, which might facilitate his business, you would not only greatly oblige us, but perhaps also attract a settlement of industrious Germans into your vicinity."
The expression of the American's face had brightened up more and more during these words. He now rose very politely, shook hands with both of them, and said some very obliging words to young Werner, to which the latter, abashed by such boundless impudence, and not himself sufficiently master of the English language, could only reply by a silent bow. Without wasting another word, the American went to a writing-table, and after the lapse of a very few minutes, handed over an open letter of introduction to his own family, as well as to his two brothers, who lived in the same neighbourhood, and who were therein requested to show all possible civility to the bearer, and to assist him in seeing the country, and especially in becoming acquainted with their part of it. In vain did Werner try to stammer out a few words, which were intended to inform the American that he had no part in this breach of confidence: the latter, who probably supposed that he was endeavouring to express his thanks, drowned his words in a stream of compliments. Dr. Normann took him by the arm, and, before he knew exactly what was going forward, he found himself, in a few minutes, in the street again, with the letter of introduction in his pocket-book, and the doctor's arm in his own.
"Well--haven't I kept my word?" he asked, laughing, as they walked down Chatham-street towards the Post-office; "am I not a conjuror? Yes, my dear Mr. Werner, take hold of the weak points of the Americans and you may do what you like with them, but, unless you do that, they're as tough as hickory."
"Doctor, I shall never make use of this letter of introduction; for I consider----"
"Pooh, pooh, my good friend!" exclaimed the doctor, laughing; "wait till you've been a year or two in America, and all that will come round; then you'll become what the Americans call 'smart.' Take notice of that word; in those five letters is comprised a whole dictionary."
Werner was going to reply rather bitterly, but suddenly bethinking himself of another course, he bade the other "Good morning," and leaving the doctor, who stepped into a shop near Astor House, turned back, and walked to the right, up Broadway.
There he sought Helldorf, to whom he related the whole proceeding; but Helldorf only laughed, and replied, that it was just what he had expected; that the doctor was a thoroughbred sharper, and, as he feared, was not content with what he had already squeezed out of the society.
"He has other views," he continued, talking half to himself, "otherwise he would have disappeared immediately after the success of his plan--the sale of the land--but we'll observe him, and Heaven have mercy upon him if he gives us a hold upon him."
The next day was fixed for the departure of the society as well as of Werner; but the latter had soon completed what little arrangements he had to make, and determined to seek the Hehrmanns once more, and to pass the last few hours in New York, at all events, with them; he was, however, by no means agreeably surprised to find the doctor already there again, and to hear that the latter had determined to make the journey as far as Cincinnati (where he gave out that he had business) with them. Werner, it is true, soon forgot all lesser cares in the absorbing pain of a parting from his beloved, for it was in vain to try to conceal from himself with what earnestness his heart clung to the Pastor's little daughter; and he only pressed Helldorf's hand in silence, when the latter asked him, in a whisper, if he did not also think "that the air of Tennessee would agree particularly well with him?"
In the meantime, the travellers had many things to arrange, and had their hands full of business; the committee, therefore, gratefully accepted the offer of Dr. Normann, to assist the Messrs. Siebert in the care of the freight, while Mr. Hehrmann and Becher, with the help of Werner and young Helldorf, endeavoured to procure what conveniences they could for the women.
Dr. Normann, quite in American fashion, had with him only a small portmanteau, not much bigger than a knapsack, in order, he said, to have his things sent after him subsequently; but the more baggage, on the other hand, did the "allies" carry with them, and the committee began already to perceive that it would not have been so much amiss if they had paid a little more attention to what the Captain of the "Hoffnung" had told them about this. But after dragging their goods so far, they considered that they must now go through with it, and before long the last article was stowed away in the mighty steamer. The New York clocks struck five, the ship's bell rang for the third time, and the ropes and planks were drawn in; the white steam rose into the clear air in puffs, which followed each other more and more quickly--the colossus gained life, and the wheels struck and pressed with a splash the little waves behind them. The boat pushed from the shore--it strove, panting, against the descending water--struck the waves away on each side--and now, with the mighty power of her boilers and cylinders, the vessel dashed forward on her clear and mirror-like course.
Helldorf tried in vain to drag Werner from the landing-place, where, pressed upon by the crowd driving hither and thither, he could hardly stand. His eyes hung upon the outlines of the boat, now becoming each minute less distinct, where but a few seconds before he thought that he had remarked the waving of a fluttering handkerchief, and only when she had disappeared round a bend in the river, did he yield his arm to his friend, and wander silently by his side, back into the city.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] One hundred and sixty acres of land is not more than one farmer would take; consequently, very far short of the wants of a party of sixty-five persons. Probably the author means it as another satire on the ignorance of emigrants.--TR.
[2] A sechser is a small German coin, value six German pfennings, or rather more than an English halfpenny; a cent. I need hardly say, is the hundredth part of a dollar, or about a halfpenny sterling.--TR.
[3] In German, "du" (thou) is used only in addressing those with whom one is on familiar terms; but "sie" (you) is always employed either in speaking to strangers, or to persons whom it is wished to treat with respect.--TR.
[4] This is much exaggerated; two men can chop and clear--i. e. log and burn--fifteen acres of hard woodland in fifteen weeks; and allowing, as is the fact, that land in the condition referred to in the text would take twice as long to clear as the original wood, still that would only make it thirty weeks' work for two men. Not the work of several years for twenty or thirty men, although unused to this work.--TR.
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The wanderings and fortunes of some German emigrantsChapter II: A Week in New York (2)
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