CHAPTER X.
A NEW DAY AND DARK QUESTIONS.
The morning dew glistened on grass, flower, and shrub, and the birdssang merrily, as Eric walked through the park. There was evidenceeverywhere of an ordering, busy, and watchful mind.
Eric heard, on the bank of the river, two women talking with eachother, as they carried on shore the garden-earth out of a boat.
"God be praised," said one, "who has sent the man to us; no one in theplace who is willing to work need suffer poverty any more."
"Yes," spoke the other, "and yet there are people here who are so badas to say all sorts of things about the man."
"What do they say?"
"That he has been a tailor."
Eric could hardly restrain himself from laughing aloud. But a thirdwoman, with a rather thick voice, said,--
"A tailor indeed! He has been a pirate, and in Africa stole agold-ship."
"And supposing he did," said the other, "those man-eaters have heaps ofgold, and are heathens beside, and Herr Sonnenkamp does nothing butgood with his gold."
Eric could not help smiling at these strange tales and implications;and it was also painful to him that great wealth always stirred up newand calumnious reports.
He went on farther. He saw from a height, with satisfaction, how themain building and all its dependencies, with park and garden, werecombined in a beautiful harmony. Near the main building there were onlytrees of a dark foliage, lindens, elms, and maples, which brought out,by contrast, so much the more brightly the brilliant architecture ofthe house built in a good Renaissance style. The arbored walksconverged gradually, as if conducting to the solidly-built mansion,which seemed not to be built upon the ground, but as if it had sprungup from the soil with the scenery that surrounded it; the stonecolonnades, the lawns, the trees, the elevations, all were anintroduction to the house; all was in harmony. The verandas appeared tobe only bearers of the climbing plants, and the whole was a masterpieceof rural architecture, a work of natural poetry according to the lawsof pure art, so that all that was man's handiwork seemed as fresh as ifit had just come out of the builder's hand, and in such perfectpreservation, that one perceived that each tree, each leaf, eachlattice, was owned and carefully cherished by a wealthy man.
Eric, however, was not to be long alone; the valet, Joseph, joined him,and with a pleasing deference offered to inform Eric concerningeverything in the household.
As Eric was silent, Joseph related once more that he had been abilliard-boy at the University, Henry the thirty-second, for all theboys must be called Henry. Then he had been a waiter in the Berne Hotelat Berne, where Sonnenkamp had boarded for almost two summers long,occupying the whole first floor--the best rooms in the world, as Josephcalled them--and had learned to know him, and taken him into hisservice. Joseph gave rather a humorous account of the corps of servantsin the household, that it was a sort of menagerie gathered from allcountries. As in a poultry yard there are all sorts of fowls, and eventhe peacock is not wanting, which shrieks so horribly and looks sobeautifully, so it was with the people here, for Herr Sonnenkamp hadtravelled all over the world. The coachman was an Englishman, the firstgroom a Pole, the cook a Frenchman, the first chamber-maid athoroughgoing Bohemian, and Fraeulein Perini an Italian Frenchwoman ofNice. The master was, however, very strict; the gardeners must notsmoke in the park, nor the grooms whistle in the stable, for all thehorses were accustomed to the whistle of the master, and must not bedisturbed. And moreover, Herr Sonnenkamp would rather not have hisservants look like servants, or have any peculiar dress of servants,and it was only a short time ago that he had given in to his wife, anddressed a few of them in livery. The servants were allowed to speakonly a few words, and there were particular words which Herr Sonnenkampused to each of them, and which each used in answering, and so all werekept in good order.
Joseph related in conclusion, not without self-satisfaction, that hehad spread abroad in the servants' room the fame of Eric's parents; itwas a good thing for people to know where a man came from, for thenthey had a much greater respect. But that Madame Perini was the specialmistress in the household, and would continue to be; she was really aFraeulein, but the gracious Frau called her always Madame.
"The keeper is right," added Joseph. "Fraeulein Perini is a woman withthe strength of seven cats, and a marten into the bargain."
Eric wished to hinder this revelation, but Joseph begged him to alloweverything to be spoken out, and to pardon him as being a Universityacquaintance. He only added the information that Pranken was to marrythe daughter of the house.
"Ah! that is a beauty! not exactly a beauty, but lovely and charming;formerly she was so frolicsome, no horse was too wild for her, no stormon the Rhine too violent; she hunted like a poacher, but now she isonly sad--always sad--vilely sad."
Eric was glad when the gossiping youth suddenly drew out his watch, andsaid:--
"In one minute the master gets up, and then I must be near him. He is aman always up to time," he added as he went away.
Like confused echoes which gradually mingle into one sound, Ericthought upon all that he had now heard about the daughter of the house.And was not this the girl with wings, who had met him the day beforeyesterday in the convent? Involuntarily standing still, and staring ata hedge, a whole life-picture presented itself to his mind. Here is achild sent to the convent, removed from all the world, from allintercourse with people; she is taken out of the convent, and they sayto her: "Thou art the Baroness Pranken!" and she is happy with thehandsome and brilliant man, and all the dazzling splendor of the worldis showered upon her through him. It seems as if he had called it allinto being, and this without knowing what kind of a man her husbandis,--it will be indeed a good thing for her not to know.
He shook his head. What was the little cloister-plant to him?
Eric saw nothing more of the gorgeous beauty of the garden; he hastenedout of it with his eyes fixed upon the ground, wandered through thepark, and just as he came out of a copse of trees by the pond,Sonnenkamp met him. He had a foreign look in his short grayplush-jacket fastened with cord, and was especially glad to find Ericalready up, proposing to himself to show him the house and grounds.
He directed his attention first to a large tuft of prairie-grass; hesmiled as Eric imagined a stampede of buffaloes, and he made a peculiarmotion of throwing, in describing how he had caught many a one with thelasso.
Then he led Eric to an elevation set out with beautiful, plane-trees,which he pointed out as the very crown of the whole place. He pridedhimself very much upon these fair and flourishing trees, adding that insuch a tract as the wine-district, destitute of shade, a thickly shadedplace was a thing to be taken into consideration against a hot day ofsummer.
"You will perceive that I have gone beyond my own territory, in orderto add to its beauty; above there upon the height is a group of trees,which I have kept in order and thinned out, laying out paths, andmaking new plantations, in order to get a picturesque view. I havebuilt my house not to please the eyes of others, but where I couldhave the best prospect from it. The peasant's house yonder was builtafter a plan of my own, and I was very properly obliged to contribute apart of the cost. That plantation beyond is a screen to hide theglaring stone-quarry; and that pretty church spire above there in themountain-village,--that was built by me. I was very highly praised fordoing it, and a great deal of flattering, pious incense was burned forme, but I can assure you that my sole motive in doing it was to gain afine view. I am obliged to change the whole character of the region--avery difficult job--and here comes in the covetousness of people. Justsee, a basket-maker builds him a house yonder, with a horribly steeproof covered with red tiles, that is a perpetual eye-sore to me; and Icannot reach the fellow. He wishes to sell the house to me for anextravagant price, but what can I do with it? He may just keep it, andaccommodate himself to my arrangements."
There was a violent energy in Sonnenkamp's manner of speaking,remin
ding Eric of an expression of Bella's, that the man was aconqueror; such an one has always something tyrannical in him, anddesires to arrange and dispose everything in the world according to hisown individual taste, or his own personal whims. The villages, thechurches, the mountains, and the woods, were to him only points in thelandscape, and they must all come into one favorite angle of vision.
And now Herr Sonnenkamp conducted his guest through the park, andexplained to him how he had arranged the grounds, and how through thedisposition of elevations and depressions he had broken up theuniformity; but that in many cases he had only to bring out the naturaladvantages, and give them their right effect: he pointed out thecareful disposition of light and shadow, and how he oftentimes set outa clump of trees, a little group of the same species; which he mingledtogether not in sharp and distinct contrast, but in regular gradationof colors, such as we see in nature.
Sonnenkamp smiled in a very friendly way, when Eric, in order to showthat he comprehended, replied, that a park must appear to be naturebrought into a state of cultivation; and that the more one knows how toconceal the shaping hand and the disposing human genius, and allows allto appear as a spontaneous growth, so much the more is it in accordancewith the pure laws of art.
A little brook, which came down from the mountain and emptied intothe river, was made to wind about with such skill, that it keptdisappearing and appearing again at unexpected points, saying by itsmurmur, "Here I am."
In the disposition of resting-places, particularly good judgment wasexhibited. Under a solitary weeping-ash that cast a perfectly circularshadow, a pretty seat was placed for a single person, and it seemed tosay invitingly, "Here thou canst be alone!" The seat, however, wasturned over, and leaned up against the tree.
"This is my daughter's favorite spot," Sonnenkamp said.
"And have you turned over the seat, so that no one may occupy it beforeyour child returns?"
"No," Sonnenkamp replied, "that is entirely by chance, but you areright, so it shall be."
The two went on farther, but Eric hardly saw the beautiful, comfortablebenches, and hardly listened while Sonnenkamp declared to him that hedid not place these on the open path, but behind shrubbery, so thathere was a solitude all ready made.
A table was placed under a beautiful maple, with two seats opposite oneanother. Sonnenkamp announced that this place was named the school; forhere Roland at intervals received instruction. Eric rejoined that henever should teach sitting in the open air; it was natural to giveinstruction while walking, but regular, definite teaching, whichdemanded concentration of the mind, demanded also an enclosed space inwhich the voice would not be utterly lost.
Sonnenkamp had now a good opportunity to tell Eric what conclusion hehad arrived at in regard to the matter in hand, but he was silent. Asan artist takes delight in the criticisms of an intelligent observer,who unfolds to him concealed beauties which he was hardly aware ofhimself, so he took delight in perceiving how understandingly, and withhow much gratification, Eric took note of the various improvements, andof the grouping of trees and shrubs.
They stood a long time before a group where the gloomy cedar was placednear the hardy fir, and the gentle morning breeze whispered in thefoliage of the silver poplar, and caused the white leaves to glistenlike little rippling waves upon the surface of a lake.
Near a little pond with a fountain was a bower of roses, upon a gentleelevation, patterned according to a dream of Frau Ceres; and hereSonnenkamp remained stationary, saying:
"That was at the time when I was still very happy here in oursettlement, and when everything was still in a sound and healthycondition."
Eric stopped, questioning whether he ought to tell Herr Sonnenkamp ofyesterday's strange occurrence. Sonnenkamp said, accompanying his wordswith peculiar little puffs, as if he were lightly and carefully blowinga fire,--
"My wife often has strange whims; but if she is not contradicted shesoon forgets them."
He appeared suddenly to remember that it was not necessary to say this,and added with unusual haste,--
"Now come, and I will show you my special vanity. But let me ask youone thing; does it not seem dreadful to you, who are a philosopher,that we must leave all this, that we know we must die; and whileeverything around continues to grow green and bloom, he who planted andacquired the means to plant is here no more, but moulders in the dust?"
"I should not have believed that you indulged in such thoughts."
"You are right to answer so. You must not ask such questions, for noone knows their answer," said Sonnenkamp sharply and bitterly; "but onething more. I wish Roland to understand rightly this creation of mineand to carry it on, for such a garden is not like a piece of sculpture,or any finished work of an artist; it is growing, and must beconstantly renewed. And why should there not be granted us thecertainty of transmitting to our posterity what we have conquered,created, or fashioned, without fear that strangers will at some timeenter into possession and let all go to waste?"
"You believe," answered Eric, "that I know no answer to the first ofyour questions, and I must confess, that I do not quite understand thesecond."
"Well, well, perhaps we will talk of it again--perhaps not," Sonnenkampbroke off. "But come now and let me show you my special pride."
Das landhaus am Rhein. English Page 22