Barbara Blomberg — Complete

by Georg Ebers

  CHAPTER VII.

  Every one in Ratisbon or at the court who spoke of Sir Wolf Hartschwertcalled him an excellent fellow. In fact, he had so few defects andfaults that perhaps it might have been better for his advancement inlife and his estimation in the circle of society to which he belonged ifmore of them had clung to him.

  Hitherto the vice of avarice was the last with which he could have beenreproached. But, when his old friend filled his glass with wine, thedesire that the property left to him might prove larger than he hadexpected overpowered every other feeling.

  Formerly it had been welcome mainly as a testimonial of his old friend'saffection. He did not need it for his own wants; his position at courtyielded him a far larger income than he required for the modest life towhich he was accustomed. For Barbara's sake alone he eagerly hoped thathe had greatly underestimated his foster parents' possessions.

  Ought he to blame her because she desired to change the life of povertywith her father for one which better harmonized with her worth andtastes? He himself, who had lived years in a Roman palace, surrounded byexquisite works of the gloriously developed Italian art, and then inthe one at Brussels, furnished with imperial splendour, did not feelperfectly content in the more than simple room which Blomberg called his"artist workshop."

  A few rude wooden chairs, a square table with clumsy feet, and an opencupboard in which stood a few tin cups, were, the sole furniture of thenarrow, disproportionately long room, whose walls were washed with gray.The ceiling, with its exposed beams, was blackened by the pine torcheswhich were often used for lights. Pieces of board were nailed over thedefective spots in the floor, and the lines where the walls met rarelyshowed a right angle.

  The window disappeared in the darkness. It was in the back of the nicheformed by the unusually thick walls. During the day its small, roundpanes gave the old gentleman light while he guided his graving tool.A wooden tripod supported the board on which his tools lay. The stool,which usually stood on a wooden trestle opposite to it, now occupied aplace before the table bearing the flagon of wine, and was intended forBarbara.

  After the torches had ceased to burn, a single tallow candle in awrought-iron candlestick afforded the two men light, and threatened togo out when, in the eagerness of their conversation, they forgot to usethe snuffers.

  Neither curtain, carpet, nor noteworthy work of art pleased the eye inthis bare, strangely narrow room. The weapons and pieces of armour ofthe aged champion of the faith, which hung high above the window, madeno pretension to beauty. Besides, the rays of the dim candle did notextend to them any more than to the valueless pictures of saints andvirgins on the wall.

  The door of Barbara's little bow-window room stood open. Nothing but asmall oil lamp was burning there. But the articles it contained, thoughdainty in themselves, were standing and lying about in such confusionthat it also presented an unpleasant aspect.

  Yet Barbara's beauty had shed such radiance upon this hideousenvironment that the scene of her industry had seemed to Wolf like anEden.

  Now he could scarcely understand this; but he found it so much theeasier to comprehend that these wretched surroundings no longer suitedsuch a pearl, and that it behooved him to procure it a worthier setting.

  Still, it was by no means easy to ask the captain what he desired toknow, for during the young knight's absence a great many importantthings had happened which Blomberg was longing to tell.

  He was in such haste to do this that he detained Wolf, who wanted tospeak to old Ursel before he began to drink the wine, by the statementthat she suffered from wakefulness, and he would disturb her just as shewas falling asleep.

  The account of the property bequeathed to the young knight was only tooquickly completed, for, though the precentor's will made his foster sonthe sole heir, the legacy consisted only of the house, some portableproperty, and scarcely more than a thousand florins.

  Yet perhaps something else was coming to Wolf; early yesterday Dr.Hiltner, the syndic of the city, had asked his place of residence, andadded that he had some news for him which promised good fortune.

  After these communications Blomberg hoped to be able to mention theimportant events which had occurred in Ratisbon during his youngfriend's absence; but Wolf desired with such eager curiosity to hear thesyndic's news first that it vexed the captain, and he angrily told himthat he would bite off his tongue before he would even say "How areyou?" to that man, and to play eavesdropper to any one was not at all inhis line.

  Here his companion interrupted with the query, What had caused thelearned scholar, whom every one, as well as the precentor, had highlyesteemed, to forfeit his friend's good opinion?

  Blomberg had waited for such a question.

  He had been like a loaded culverin, and Wolf had now touched the burningmatch to the powder. To understand why he, Blomberg, who wished onlythe best fortune to every good Christian, would fain have this thoroughscoundrel suffer all the torments of hell, the young knight must firstlearn what had happened in Ratisbon since the last Reichstag.

  Until then the good city had resisted the accursed new religiousdoctrines which had gained a victory in Nuremberg and the other citiesof the empire.

  Here also, as Wolf himself had probably experienced, there had beenno lack of inclination toward the Lutheran doctrine. It was certainlynatural, since it suited the stomach better to fill itself, even duringLent, than to renounce meat; since there were shameless priests whowould rather embrace a woman than to remain unmarried; since the Churchproperty bestowed by pious souls was a welcome morsel to princes andto cities, and, finally, because licentiousness was more relishedthan wholesome discipline. The wicked desires inspired by all the evilspirits and their tool, the Antichrist Luther, had gained the upper handhere also, and Dr. Hiltner, above all others, had prepared the way forthem in Ratisbon. Even at the last Reichstag his Majesty the Emperor hadearnestly, but with almost too much gracious forbearance, endeavouredto effect a union between the contending parties, but directly afterhis departure from the city rebellion raised its head with boundlessinsolence. The very next year the Council formally introduced the evilwhich they called ecclesiastical reformation. The blinded people flockedto the new parish church to attend the first service, which they called"Protestant." Then the mischief hastened forward with gigantic strides.

  "Last year," cried the old gentleman, hoarse with indignation, strikingthe table with his clenched fist as if he were in camp, "I saw them withmy own eyes throw down and drag away, I know not where, the pillar withthe beautiful image of Mary, the masterpiece of Erhard Heydenreich,the architect of the cathedral, which stood in front of the new parishchurch. Songs had been composed in her honour, and she was dear andprecious to you from early childhood, as well as to every native ofRatisbon; the precentor--God rest his soul!--read to me from your letterfrom Rome what exquisite works of art you saw there every day, but thatyou still remembered with pleasure the beautiful Virgin at home.

  "But what do these impious wretches care about beautiful and sacredthings? The temple desecrators removed and destroyed one venerable,holy image after another. True, they did not venture into the cathedral,probably from fear of his Majesty the Emperor, and whoever hadundertaken to lay hands upon the altar painting and the Madonna in ourchapel would have paid for it--I am not boasting--with his life. Though'the beautiful Mary,' in her superabundant mercy, quietly endured theaffront offered, our Lord himself punished it, for he inspired theillustrious Duke of Bavaria to issue an edict which forbids his subjectsto trade with Ratisbon. Whoever even enters the city must pay a heavyfine. This set many people thinking. Ursel will tell you what sinfulprices we have paid since for butter and meat. Even the innocent areobliged to buckle their belts tighter. Those who wished to escapefasting are now compelled by poverty to practise abstinence. It is saidthe Roman King Ferdinand is urging the revocation of the order. If Iwere in his place, I would advise making it more stringent till therebels sweat blood and crept to the cross."

  Then Blombe
rg bewailed the untimely leniency of the Emperor, for therewas not even any rumour of a serious assault upon the Turks. And yet,if only he, Blomberg, was commissioned to raise an army of the cross,Christianity would soon have rest from its mortal foe! But if itshould come to fighting--no matter whether against the infidels or theheretics--in spite of Wawerl and his lame leg, he would take the fieldagain. No death could be more glorious than in battle against thedestroyer of souls. The scoundrels were flourishing like tares among thewheat. At the last Reichstag the Electors of Brandenburg and Saxony,as well as the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, brought their own preachers,whose sermons turned many heads, even the pastor of St. Emmeran's,Zollern, who was a child of Ratisbon. At Staufferhof Baron von Stauff,formerly a man worthy of all honour, had opened his chapel of St. Ann toall the citizens to permit them to participate in the Lutheran idolatry.Two Protestant ministers, one of whom, Dr. Forster, Luther himself hadbrought to Ratisbon, were liberally paid by the Council. Whether Wolfbelieved it or not, Father Hamberger, whom he surely remembered as Priorof the Minorites, and who at that time enjoyed universal esteem, hadtaken a wife, and the rest of the monks had followed the iniquitousexample. Many other priests had married if it suited them, and, insteadof the cowl, wore secular garments. The instruction given in the schoolof poets was perfectly abominable, as he heard from Councillor Steuerer,who was faithful to the Catholic Church, and strove to induce the Dukeof Bavaria to adopt still sterner measures against all this disorder.

  Very recently men hitherto blameless, like Andreas Weinzierl and GeorgSeidl, had sent their eighteen-year-old sons to the Universityof Wittenberg, where the Lutheran heresies were flourishing mostluxuriantly.

  But the worst of all was that even faithful sons and daughters of HolyChurch could not keep themselves wholly untouched by such mischief.Among these, alas! were he and his Wawerl, for he had been obliged toallow the girl to join the choristers who sang in the Convivium Musicum,which the Council had established in the summer three years before. Twocouncillors were assigned to each Convivium, and thus these arrangementswere in Protestant hands.

  "Of course," he added dejectedly, "I wished to forbid her taking part inthem, but, though with me it is usually bend or break, what can a mando when a woman is pestering him day and night, sometimes begging withtears, sometimes with caresses?

  "Besides, many a good Catholic entreated me to give up my opposition.They, do not grudge the girl her progress, and how much she already owesto the music teacher who now directs the Collegium Musicuin! Singing iseverything to her, and what else can I give the poor child? At anyrate, the Netherlander whom the Council brought here three years ago--soconnoisseurs say--scarcely has his equal anywhere in knowledge andability. The man came to me and frankly said that he needed the girl'svoice for the Convivium, and, if I refused to let Wawerl take part, hewould stop teaching her. As he is a just man of quiet temperament andadvanced in years."

  "Where is he from, and what is his name?" Wolf eagerly interrupted.

  "Damian Feys," replied the captain, "and he is a native of Ghent in theNetherlands. Although he is in the pay of the city, he has remained--hetold me so himself--a good Catholic. There was nothing to be feared forthe child on the score of religion. The anxieties which are troubling meon her account come from another source."

  Then, with a mischievous mirthfulness usually foreign to his nature,Wolf raised his goblet, exclaiming:

  "Cast them upon me, Father Blomberg! I will gladly help you bear them asyour loyal son-in-law."

  "So that's the way of it," was the captain's answer, his honest eyesbetraying more surprise than pleasure.

  Yet he pledged Wolf, and, touching his glass to his, said:

  "I've often thought that this might happen if you should see how she hasgrown up. If she consents, nothing could please me better; but howmany lovers she has already encouraged, and then, before matters becameserious, dismissed! I have experienced it. If you succeed in putting anend to such trifling, may this hour be blessed! But do you know the hugemaggots she keeps under her golden hair?"

  "Both large and small ones," cried Wolf, with glowing cheeks. "Truthfulas she is, she did not conceal from the playmate of her youth a singleimpulse of her ambitious soul."

  "And did she give you hope?" asked the captain, thrusting his headeagerly forward.

  "Yes," replied the youth firmly; but he quickly corrected himself,and, in a less confident tone, added, "That is, if I could offer her acare-free life."

  "There it is," sighed the old man. "She knows what she wants, and holdsfirmly to it. You are the son of a knight, and on account of the musicwhich you can pursue together--With her everything is possible andlittle is impossible. In any case, you will have no easy life with her,and, ere you order the wedding ring----" Here he suddenly stopped, fora bird-song, high, clear, and yet as insinuatingly sweet as though,on this evening in late April, the merriest and most skilful featheredsongsters which had recently found their way home to the fresh greenleafage on the shore of the Danube had made an appointment on the stepsof the gloomy house in Red Cock Street, rose nearer and nearer to thetwo men who were sitting over their wine.

  It was difficult to believe that this whistling and chirping, trillingand cuckoo calling, came from the same throat; but when the bird notesceased just outside the door, and Barbara, with bright mirthfulness andthe airiest grace, sang the refrain of the Chant des Oiseaux, 'Car lasaison est bonne', bowing gracefully meanwhile, the old enemy of theTurks fairly beamed with delight.

  His eyes, wet with tears of grateful joy, sought the young man's,and, though he had just warned him plainly enough against courtinghis daughter, his sparkling gaze now asked whether he had ever met anequally bewitching marvel.

  "The deuce!" he cried out to his daughter when she at last paused andextended her hand to him. He leaned comfortably farther back in hisarm-chair as he spoke, but she kissed him lightly on the forehead, whileher large blue eyes shone with cheerful content.

  She had gained her object.

  When she sang this song she was safe from any troublesome questions.Besides, Gombert, of Bruges, the director of the imperial orchestra, whohad arrived in Ratisbon that very day, was the composer of the charmingbird-song, and she knew from her singing master that, though her voicewas best adapted to solemn hymns, nothing in the whole range of secularmusic suited it better than this "Car la saison est bonne." She longedfor the praise of such a musician, and Wolf must accompany her to him.

  The young knight had not only been joyfully surprised, but most deeplydelighted by the bewitching execution of this most charmingly arrangedrefrain.

  Maestro Gombert and his colleague Appenzelder, the conductor of the boychoir, must hear it on the morrow. And how gladly Barbara consented tofulfil this wish!

  She had received the greatest praise, she said, in the motet of theBlessed Virgin, by Josquin de Pres, in the noble song 'Ecce tu pulchraes'. Her teacher specially valued this master and his countrymanGombert, and his exquisite compositions were frequently and gladly sungat the Convivium.

  This pleased Wolf, for he had a right to call himself, not only thepupil, but the friend of the director of the orchestra. As, seizing thelute, he began Gombert's Shepherd and Shepherdess, Barbara, unasked,commenced the song.

  When, after Barbara's bell-like, well-trained voice had sung many othermelodies, the young knight at last took leave of his old friends, hewhispered that he had not expected to find home so delightful.

  She, too, went to rest in a joyous, happy mood, and, as she lay in hernarrow bed, asked herself whether she could not renounce her ardentlonging for wealth and splendour and be content with a modest life atWolf's side.

  She liked him, he would cherish her, and lovingly devote the greatskill which he had gained in Italy and the Netherlands to the finalcultivation of her voice. Her house would become a home of art, her lifewould be pervaded and ennobled by song and music. What grander existencecould earth offer?

  Before she found an answer to this questio
n, sleep closed her wearyeyes. But when, the next morning, the cobbler's one-eyed daughter, who,since old Ursel's illness, had done the rough work in the chambers andkitchen, waked her, she speedily changed her mind. It was hard torise early after the day's ironing and the late hour at which shehad retired, and, besides, when Barbara returned from mass, the maidreported that Frau Lerch had been there and left the message that FranItzenweck wanted the laces which had been promised to her early thatday.

  So Barbara was obliged to go to work again immediately after the earlybreakfast. But, while she was loosening the laces from the pins andstirring her slender white fingers busily for the wretched pittance, hersoul was overflowing with thoughts of the most sublime works of music,and the desire for success, homage, and a future filled with happinessand splendour.

  Vehement repugnance to the humble labour to which necessity forced herwas like a bitter taste in her mouth, and, ere she had folded the laststrips of lace, she turned her back to the work-table and pressed bothhands upon her bosom, while from the inmost depths of her tortured soulcame the cry: "I will never bear it! In one way or another I will put anend to this life of beggary."

  Thanks to old Ursel's care, Wolf had found his bed made and everythinghe needed at hand in his foster parents' deserted lodging. To avoiddisturbing the sick woman, he removed his shoes in the entry, and thenglided into his former little room. Weariness had soon closed his eyesalso, but only for a few hours. His fevered blood, fear, and hope drovehim from his couch at the first dawn of morning.

  Ere returning to the two men the evening before, Barbara had hastilyspoken to Ursula, and brought her whatever she preferred to receive fromher hands rather than those of the one-eyed maid who spent the nightwith her--her Sunday cap and a little sealed package which she kept inher chest. When Wolf tapped at her door early the next morning, she wasalready up, and had had her cap put on. This was intended to give hera holiday appearance, but the expression of her faithful eyes and thesmile upon her sunken mouth showed her darling that his return was afestival to her.

  The stroke of apoplexy which had attacked the woman of seventy had beenslight, and merely affected her speech a little. But she found plenty ofwords to show Wolf how happy it made her to see him again, and to tellhim about his foster parents' last illness and death.

  The precentor and organist, aided by Bishop Pangraz Sinzenhofer andBlasius, the captain of the city guard, had endeavoured to collect thepapers which proved Wolf's noble birth. The package that Barbarahanded to her the evening before contained the patent of nobility newlyauthorized by King Frederick at Vienna and the certificate of baptismwhich proved him to be the only son of the Frank Knight UllmannHartschwert and the Baroness Wendula Sandhof.

  His mother's family died with her; on his father's side, as theprecentor had learned, he still had an uncle, his father's olderbrother, but his castle had been destroyed during the Peasant War. Hehimself had commanded for several years a large troop of mercenaries inthe service of the Queen of England, and his three children, a son andtwo daughters, had entered monastic and conventual life.

  The contents of the package confirmed all these statements. Moreover,the very Dr. Hiltner, of whom Barbara's father had spoken sodisagreeably, had paid a visit the day before to Ursel, who had won theesteem of the preceptor's old friend, and told her that he wished totalk with Wolf about an important matter.

  It afforded the young man genuine pleasure to wait upon the faithful oldwoman and give her her medicine and barley-gruel. His mother had broughthim to Ratisbon when he was a little boy four years old, and Ursel atthat time had been his nurse. She had clung more closely to him than thewoman to whom he owed his life, for his mother had deserted him totake the veil in the convent of the Sisters of St. Clare, but hermaid-servant Ursel would not part from him. So she was received by hisfoster parents when they adopted him, and had served them faithfullyuntil their deaths.

  The wrinkled countenance of the old woman, who, even on her sick-bed,retained her neat appearance, expressed shrewdness and energy.

  Wolf's services were a pleasure and an honour. A grateful, affectionateglance acknowledged each, and meanwhile he became clearly aware of thetreasure which he, the orphaned youth, possessed in this faithful oldfriend.

  If he saw aright, she might yet live a long time, and this gave himheartfelt joy. With her he would lose the last witness of his childhood,the chronicle, as it were, of his earliest youth. He could notunderstand why he had never before induced her to tell him herrecollections.

  During his boyhood, which was crowded with work, he had been contentwhen she told him in general outlines that, during the Peasant War,fierce bands had attacked his father's castle, that one of his ownbondmen had slain him with an axe, and that his mother had fled withWolf to Ratisbon, where her brother lived as provost of the cathedral.He had invited her, at the outbreak of the peasant insurrection, toplace herself under his protection.

  The old woman had also described to him how, amid great hardships, theyhad reached the city in midwinter, and finally that his mother foundBaron Sandhof, her brother, at the point of death, and, after her hopeof having a home with the provost of the cathedral was baffled, she hadtaken the veil in the convent of the Dominicans, called here the BlackPenitents. Wolf's foster father, the organist Stenzel, who was closelyconnected with his uncle, had rendered this step easier for the desertedwidow by receiving the little boy in his childless home.

  Ursel must give him more minute particulars concerning all these things.

  His mother, who knew that he was well cared for, had troubled herselfvery little about him, and devoted her life to the care of her ownsalvation and that of her murdered husband, who had died without thebenefit of the holy sacrament.

  When he was fifteen, she closed her eyes on the world, and the hourwhen, on her death bed, she had asked of him a vow to be faithful to theCatholic Church and shut his heart against heresy, was as vividly beforehis memory as if she had just passed away.

  He did not allude to these things now, for his heart urged him toconfide to the faithful old woman what he thought of Barbara, and thebeautiful hopes with which he had left her.

  Ursel closed her eyes for a while and twirled the thumb of the hand shecould use around the other for some time; but at last she gently noddedthe little head framed in her big cap, and said carelessly:

  "So you would like to seek a wife, child? Well, well! It comes onceto every one. And you are thinking of Wawerl? It would certainly befortunate for the girl. Marriages are made in heaven, and God's millsgrind slowly. If the result is not what you expect, you must not murmur,and, above all things, don't act rashly. But now I can use my heavytongue no longer. Remember Dr. Hiltner. When duty will permit, you'llfind time for another little chat with old Ursel."

  Casting a loving farewell glance at Wolf as she spoke, she turned overon the other side.

  As his footsteps receded from her bedside, she pressed her lips morefirmly together, thinking: "Why should I spoil his beautiful dream ofhappiness? What Wawerl offers to the eyes and ears of men is certainlymost beautiful. But her heart! It is lacking! Unselfish love would beprecisely what the early orphaned youth needs, and that Wawerl willnever give him. Yet I wish no heavier anxieties oppressed me! One thingis certain--the husband of the girl upstairs must wear a different lookfrom my darling, with his modest worth. The Danube will flow uphillbefore she goes to the altar with him! So, thank Heaven, I can consolemyself with that!"

  But, soon after, she remembered many things which she had formerlybelieved impossible, yet which, through unexpected influence, hadhappened.

  Then torturing uneasiness seized her. She anxiously clasped heremaciated hands, and from her troubled bosom rose the prayer that theLord would preserve her darling from the fulfilment of the most ardentdesire of his heart.