The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 10. Коллектив авторов
explaining on this occasion the reasons therefor. Even those letters which, like my last ones, I took occasion to send by a courier, are not secure from indiscretions at Berlin; those to me as well as those from me; but those which go by the regular mail are always opened, except when there is no time for it, as the gentleman who will read this could probably testify. But all that, for better, for worse, forms part of the petty ills of my new position.
In my thoughts I must always ask you and our dad to forgive me for depriving you of the pleasure and the happiness of your old days, inasmuch as I transplant to such a distance the bright child-life, with all its dear cares, and take Johanna away a second time from her father's house; but I see no other way out of it, which would not be unnatural, or even wrong, and the strong arm which separated us when we hoped to be united can also unite us when we least expect it. You shall at least have the conviction, so far as human purpose can give it, that I shall wander, together with Johanna, with the strong staff of the Word of God, trough this dead and wicked activity of the world, whose nakedness will become more apparent to us in our new position than before, and that to the end of our joint pilgrimage my hand shall strive, in faithful love, to smooth Johanna's paths, and to be a warm covering to her against the breath of the great world.
Your faithful son, v.B.
Frankfort, May 18, '51.
My Darling,—Frankfort is terribly tiresome; I am so spoiled by so much affection and so much business that I am only just beginning to suspect how ungrateful I always was to some people in Berlin, to say nothing of you and yours; but even the cooler measure of fellowship and party affiliation which came to me in Berlin may be called an intimate relationship compared with intercourse here, which is, in fact, nothing more than mutual mistrust and espionage, if there only were anything to spy out or to conceal! The people toil and fret over nothing but mere trifles, and these diplomats, with their consequential hair-splitting, already seem to me more ridiculous than the Member of the Second Chamber in the consciousness of his dignity. If foreign events do not take place, and those we over-smart Diet people can neither direct nor prognosticate, I know quite definitely now what we shall have accomplished in one, two, or five years, and am willing to effect it in twenty-four hours if the others will but be truthful and sensible for a single day. I have never doubted that they all use water for cooking; but such an insipid, silly water-broth, in which not a single bubble of mutton-suet is visible, surprises me. Send me Filöhr, the village-mayor, Stephen Lotke, and Herr von Dombrowsky, of the turnpike-house, as soon as they are washed and combed, and I shall cut a dash with them in diplomatic circles. I am making headlong progress in the art of saying nothing by using, many words; I write reports of many pages, which read nice and smooth as editorials; and if Manteuffel, after he has read them, can tell what they contain, he can do more than I. Each of us makes believe that he thinks the other is full of ideas and plans, if he would but speak out, and yet we none of us know a jot better than the man in the moon does what is to become of Germany. No mortal, not even the most malevolently skeptical Democrat, will believe what a vast amount of charlatanism and consequential pomposity there is in this diplomacy. But now I have done enough scolding, and want to tell you that I am well, and that I was very glad and gave thanks to the Lord that, according to your last letter, all was well with you, and that I love you very much, and look at every pretty villa, thinking that perhaps our babies will be running about in it in summer. Do see that you get the girls to come along, or if they absolutely refuse, bring others from there with whom we are already somewhat acquainted. I don't care to have a Frankfort snip in the room, or with the children; or we must take a Hessian girl, with short petticoats and ridiculous head-gear; they are half-way rural and honest. For the present I shall rent a furnished room for myself in the city; the inn here is too expensive. Lodgings, 5 guilders per day; two cups of tea, without anything else, 36 kreutzers (35 are 10 silbergroschen), and, served as the style is here, it is insulting. Day before yesterday I was at Mayence; it is a charming region, indeed. The rye is already standing in full ears, although the weather is infamously cold every night and morning. The excursions by rail are the best things here. To Heidelberg, Baden-Baden, Odenwald, Hamburg, Soden, Wiesbaden, Bingen, Rüdesheim, Niederwald, is a leisurely day's journey; one can stay there for five or six hours and be here again in the evening; hitherto I have not yet availed myself of it, but shall do so, so that I may escort you when you are here. Rochow left for Warsaw at nine o'clock last night; he will arrive there day after tomorrow at noon, and will most likely be here again a week from today. About politics and individuals cannot write you much, because most letters are opened, When once they are familiar with your address on my letters and with your handwriting on yours, they will probably get over it, because they have no time to read family letters. Do not be afraid of the local aristocracy; as to money, Rothschild is the most aristocratic, but deprive them all of their money and salaries, and it would be seen how little each one is aristocratic in himself; money doesn't do it, and otherwise—may the Lord keep me in humility, but here the temptation is strong to be content with one's self.
Countess Pückler, sister of the Countess Stolberg, resides at Weistritz, near Schweidnitz. Now, farewell; I must go out. God's blessing be with you. Give F. and M. much love. Your most faithful v.
B.
Frankfort, May 27, '51.
My Darling,—* * * On Friday there was a ball at Lady Cowley's, which lasted until five in the morning; they all dance here as if possessed; the oldest delegates of fifty, with white hair, danced to the end of the cotillion, in the sweat of their brows. At midnight "God Save the Queen" was solemnly played, because her birthday was dawning, and it was all a transparency of English coats-of-arms and colors from top to bottom, and very many odd, stiff ladies, who "lisp English when they lie," as I read once upon a time the translation of that passage in Faust; that is to say, they all have a passion for talking bad French, and I am altogether forgetting my English, as I have discovered to my dismay. * * * Oftentimes I feel terribly homesick, and that is to me an agreeable sadness, for otherwise I seem to myself so aged, so dryly resigned and documentary, as if I were only pasted on a piece of card-board. * * * Give your dear parents my heartfelt love, and kiss Annie's pretty hand for me, because she stays with you so sweetly-Now, I shall not write another word until I have a letter from you in hand. Yesterday I attended the Lutheran church here; a not very gifted, but devout, minister; the audience consisted, apart from myself, of just twenty two women, and my appearance was visibly an event. God bless and keep you and the children.
Your most faithful v.B.
Frankfort, Ascension Day—Evening.
(Postmarked Berlin, June 1, '51.)
My Heart,—How good it is of you all that, directly after I had mailed my complaint of lack of news, there arrives such a shower of letters. A thousand thanks to your dear parents, and I shall answer dad tomorrow, when I am less hurried than today, for on this dear holiday, after a big dinner, I must still write some long despatches. I was at the French church today, where at least there was more congregation and devotion, and the minister was passable, too, but I cannot talk French with my dear, faithful Lord and Saviour; it seems to me ungrateful. For the rest, they sang pretty hymns, these insipid Calvinists, almost in the sweet Catholic tune which you always play. * * *
Your most faithful v.B.
Your letter had been opened again.
Frankfort, June 4, '51.
My Darling,—Were you not going to write to me any more? I was resolved even yesterday not to put pen to paper until I should have a letter from you, but, anyway, I will be good, and tell you that I am well and love you, even if you let your little inkstand dry up. I long exceedingly for you and the children, and for quiet, comfortable domesticity at Schönhausen or Reinfeld. As soon as I have finished my hitherto rather unimportant occupations, my empty lodgings, and the whole dreary world behind, face me, and I know not where to set my foot, for there is nothing which particularly attracts me. Day before yesterday I ate at Biberich, with the Duke of Nassau, the first fresh herrings and the first strawberries and raspberries of the season. It is certainly a delightful piece of earth along the Rhine, and I looked pensively from the castle windows over to the red cathedral of Mayence, which, almost four years ago, we both went to see very early in the morning, in times for which we were not then sufficiently grateful