"The heat-lark warbles forth his sepulchral melodies." S. S. BLICHER.
The peninsula of Jutland possesses nothing of the natural beautywhich Zealand and Funen present--splendid beeches and odoriferousclover-fields in the neighborhood of the salt sea; it possesses atonce a wild and desolate nature, in the heath-covered expanses andthe far-stretching moors. East and west are different; like thegreen, sappy leaf, and grayish white sea-weed on the sea shore.From the Woods of Marselisborg to the woods south of ColdingerFjord, is the land rich and blooming; it is the Danish Nature inher greatness. Here rises the Heaven Mountain, with its wildernessof coppice and heather; from here you gaze over the rich landscape,with its woods and lakes, as far down as the roaring Cattegat.
The western coast, on the contrary, lies without a tree, withoutbushes, with nothing but white sand-hills stretching along theroaring ocean, which scourges the melancholy coast with sand-stormsand sharp winds. Between these contrasts, which the east and westcoasts present, the Hesperides and Siberia, lies the vast heathwhich stretches itself from the Lyneborg sand to the Skagen's reef.No hedge shows here the limits of possession. Among the crossingtracks of carriage wheels must thou seek thy way. Crippled oaks,with whitish-green moss overgrown to the outermost branches, twistthemselves along the ground, as if fearing storms and the sea-mist.Here, like a nomadic people, but without flocks, do the so-calledTartar bands wander up and down, with their peculiar language andpeculiar ceremonies. Suddenly there shows itself in the interior ofthe heathy wilderness a colony--another, a strange people, Germanemigrants, who through industry compel the meagre country tofruitfulness.
From Veile, Otto wished to take the road through Viborg, as themost direct and the shortest to his grandfather's estate, which laybetween Nisumfjord and Lemvig.
The first heath-bushes accosted him as dear friends of hischildhood. The beautiful beech-woods lay behind him, the expanse ofheath began; but the heath was dear to him: it was this landscapewhich formed the basis of many dear recollections.
The country became ever higher with brown heights, beyond whichnothing was visible; houses and farms became more rare, the cherryorchards transformed themselves into cabbage-gardens. Only singlespots were free from heather, and here grew grass, but short, andlike moss or duckweed which grows upon ponds: here birdscongregated by hundreds, and fluttered twittering into the air asthe carriage drove past.
"You know where to find the green spot in the heath, and how tobecome happy through it," sighed Otto. "Could I only follow yourexample!"
At a greater distance rose bare hills, without ling or ploughedland; the prickly heath looked brown and yellow on the sharpdeclivities. A little boy and girl herded sheep by the way-side;the boy played the Pandean pipe, the little girl sang a psalm,--itwas the best song which she knew how to sing to the traveller, inorder to win a little present from him.
The day was warm and beautiful, but the evening brought the coldmist from the sea, which, however, in the interior of the countryloses something of its power.
"That is a kiss of welcome from my home," said Otto; "the death-kissof the mermaid! In Funen they call it the elf maiden."
Within the last few years a number of children have been sent fromthe Orphan Asylum to the heath, in order that, instead ofCopenhagen rogues, they may become honest Jutland peasants. Ottohad a boy of this description for his coachman. The lad was verycontented, and yet Otto became low-spirited from his relation.Recollections from his own life stirred within his breast. "Returnthanks to God," said he, and gave the lad a considerable present;"on the heath thou hast shelter and a home; in Copenhagen, perhaps,the sandy beach would have been thy nightly resting-place, hungerand cold the gifts which the day would bring thee."
The nearer he approached the west, the more serious became hisframe of mind; it was as if the desolate scenery and cold sea-mistentered his soul. The pictures of the gay country-seat at Funenwere supplanted by recollections of his home with his grandfather.He became more and more low-spirited. It was only when a singlemile separated him from his home that the thought of surprising hisdear friends conquered his melancholy.
He caught sight of the red roof of the house, saw the willowplantations, and heard the bark of the yard-dog. Upon the hillockbefore the gate stood a group of children. Otto could no longerendure the slow driving through the deep ruts. He sprang out of thecarriage, and ran more than he walked. The children on the hillockbecame aware of him, and all looked toward the side from whence hecame.
The slow driving, and his being absorbed in melancholy fancies, hadrelaxed his powerful frame; but now in one moment all hiselasticity returned: his cheeks glowed, and his heart beat loudly.
From the court resounded singing--it was the singing of a psalm. Hestepped through the gateway. A crowd of peasants stood with baredheads: before the door stood a carriage, some peasants were justraising a coffin into it. In the doorway stood the old preacher,and spoke with a man clad in black.
"Lord Jesus! who is dead?" were Otto's first words, and hiscountenance became pale like that of a corpse.
"Otto!" all exclaimed.
"Otto!" exclaimed also the old preacher, astonished; then seizedhis hand, and said gravely, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath takenaway; blessed be the name of the Lord!"
"Let me see the face of the dead!" said Otto. Not a tear came tohis eye; surprise and sorrow were too great.
"Shall I take out the screws?" inquired the man who had justscrewed up the coffin.
"Let him sleep the eternal rest!" said the preacher.
Otto stared at the black coffin in which his grandfather lay. Thecarriage drove away with it. Otto followed after with the preacher,heard him throw earth upon it, heard words which he did notcomprehend, saw the last corner of the coffin, and it was thenremoved from his sight. All was as a dream to him.
They returned back to the preacher's abode; a pale figureapproached him: it was Rosalie--old Rosalie.
"We have here no abiding-place, we all hasten toward futurity!"said the old preacher. "Strengthen yourself now with meat anddrink! The body cannot suffer like the soul. We have accompaniedhim to His sleeping chamber; his bed was well prepared! I haveprayed the evening prayer; he sleeps in God, and will awaken tobehold His glory. Amen!"
"Otto! thou dear Otto!" said Rosalie. "The bitterest day brings methis joy! How have I thought of thee! Amongst strangers shouldstthou receive the tidings of his death! with no one who could feelfor thy sorrow! where thou shouldst see no eye weep for what thouhast lost! Now thou art here! now, when I believed thee so fardistant--it is a miracle! Thou couldst only have received theletter to-day which carried the intelligence of thy grandfather'sdeath to thee!"
"I wished to surprise you," said Otto. "A melancholy surpriseawaited me!"
"Sit down, my child!" said the preacher, and drew him toward thecovered table. "When the tree falls which gave us shade and fruit,from which we, in our own little garden, have planted shoots andsown seeds, we may well look on with sadness and feel our loss: butwe must not forget our own garden, must not forget to cherish thatwhich we have won from the fallen tree: we must not cease to livefor the living! I miss, like you, the proud tree, which rejoiced mysoul and my heart, but I know that it is planted in a bettergarden, where Christ is the gardener."
The preacher's invitation to remain with him, during his stay, inhis house, Otto declined. Already this first night he wished toestablish himself in his own little chamber in the house ofmourning. Rosalie also would return.
"We have a deal to say to each other," said the old preacher, andlaid his hand upon Otto's shoulder. "Next summer you will hardlypress my hand, it will be pressed by the turf."
"To-morrow I will come to you," said Otto, and drove back with theold Rosalie to the house.
The domestics kissed the hand and coat of the young master--hewished to prevent this; the old woman wept. Otto stepped into theroom; here had stood the corpse, on account of which the furniturehad been removed, and the void was all the more affecting. The longwhite mourning curtains fluttered in tire wind before the openwindow. Rosalie led him by the hand into the little sleeping-roomwhere the grandfather had died. Here everything yet stood asformerly--the large book case, with the glass doors, behind whichthe intellectual treasure was preserved: Wieland and Fielding,Millot's "History of the World," and Von der Hagen's "Narrenbuch,"occupied the principal place: these books had been those most readby the old gentleman. Here was also Otto's earliest intellectualfood, Albertus Julius, the English "Spectator," and Evald'swritings. Upon the wall hung pikes and pistols, and a large oldsabre, which the grandfather had once worn. Upon the table beneaththe mirror stood an hour-glass; the sand had run out. Rosaliepointed toward the bed. "There he died," said she, "between sixand seven o'clock in the evening. He was only ill three days; thetwo last he passed in delirium: he raised himself in bed, and shookthe bed posts; I was obliged to let two strong men watch besidehim. 'To horse! to horse!' said he; 'the cannons forward!' Hisbrain dreamed of war and battles. He also spoke of your blessedfather severely and bitterly! Every word was like the stab of aknife; he was as severe toward him as ever!"
"And did the people understand his words?" asked Otto with awrinkled brow.
"No, for the uninitiated they were dark words; and even had theypossessed any meaning, the men would have believed it was thesickness which spoke out of him. 'There stands the mother with thetwo children! The one shall fall upon the flank of the enemy andbring me honor and joy. The mother and daughter I know not!' Thatwas all which I heard him say about you and your mother and sister.By noon on the third day the fever had spent itself; the strong,gloomy man was become as weak and gentle as a child; I sat besidehis bed. 'If I had only Otto here!' said he. 'I have been severelyattacked, Rosalie, but I am now much better: I will go to sleep;that strengthens one.' Smilingly he closed his eyes and lay quitestill: I read my prayers, withdrew gently so as not to wake him; helay there unchanged when I returned. I sat a little while besidehis bed; his hands lay upon the coverlid; I touched them, theywere ice-cold. I was frightened, touched his brow, his face--he wasdead! he had died without a death-struggle!"
For a long time did they converse about the dead man; it was nearmidnight when Otto ascended the narrow stairs which led to thelittle chamber in the roof, where as child and boy he had slept.All stood here as it had done the year before, only in nicer order.Upon the wall hung the black painted target, near to the centre ofwhich he had once shot. His skates lay upon the chest of drawers,near to the nodding plaster figure. The long journey, and theoverpowering surprise which awaited him on his return, had stronglyaffected him: he opened the window; a large white sand-hill roselike a wall straight up before it, and deprived him of all view.How often, when a child, had the furrows made by rain in the sand,and the detached pieces, presented to him pictures,--towns, towers,and whole marching armies. Now it was only a white wall, whichreminded him of a winding-sheet. A small streak of the blue sky wasvisible between the house and the steep slope of the hill. Neverbefore had Otto felt, never before reflected, what it was to standalone in the world, to be lovingly bound to no one with the band ofconsanguinity.
"Solitary, as in this silent night do I stand in the world!solitary in the mighty crowd of human beings! Only ONE being can Icall mine! only ONE being press as kindred to my heart! And Ishudder at the thought of meeting with this being--I should blessthe thought that she was dead! Father! thou didst ruin one beingand make three miserable. I have never loved thee; bitternessgerminated within my breast when I became acquainted with thee!Mother! thy features have died out of my recollection; I reverethee! Thou wast all love; to love didst thou offer up thy life--more than life! Pray for me with thy God! Pray for me, ye dead! ifthere is immortality; if the flesh is not alone born again in grassand the worm; if the soul is not lost in floods of air! We shall beunconscious of it: eternally shall we sleep! eternally!" Ottosupported his forehead upon the window-frame, his arm sanklanguidly, "Mother! poor mother! thou didst gain by death, even ifit be merely an eternal sleep,--asleep without dreams! We have onlya short time to live, and yet we divide our days of life withsleep! My body yearns after this short death! I will sleep--sleeplike all my beloved ones! They do not awaken!" He threw himselfupon the bed. The cold air from the sea blew through the openwindow. The wearied body conquered; he sank into the death-likesleep, whilst his doubting soul, ever active, presented him withliving dreams.