Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine

The Cabinetsräthin imagined that her relations with the Sonnenkamp household would be much more easily maintained, if the Professor's widow and the aunt formed a part of it; then her intercourse would be in a manner with them, and not with this man. In fact it would be her duty to see as much as possible of these noble women, in order to soften their position of dependence; and that advantage, with many others, would be easily secured when she had established herself in that country-house, which of course had several acres of vineyard attached to it.

Thus there was a mingling of motives, with a good and animating result.

Sonnenkamp smiled blandly, but all the while was saying to himself, – These nobles hold together more closely than a band of thieves; in fact they are thieves, for all this impoverished nobility wants to bolster itself up by me.

He acceded politely to the lady's proposition, with the inward reservation, You have not that estate yet, and the Professor's widow may sit for a while longer at her sewing-machine.

They drove by the country-seat of the Prince, who had lately returned from America. Here everything was in perfect order, and a table, with servants in attendance, was spread in a long, narrow pavilion erected in a grove by the roadside. The sound of military music came from a public garden, and the trees were hung with bright-colored lamps. The officers of the Guard were holding a summer-fête here. Bands of music followed each other in quick succession, one beginning to play the moment the other ceased. The officers were already seated at a table spread under a great tent in the middle of the public garden; while at smaller tables near by sat the dignitaries of the capital, with their wives and daughters, in gay summer dresses.

The two carriages drawn by Sonnenkamp's noble horses' attracted great attention. Pranken quickly gave the necessary directions, and established his party at one of the best tables, towards which many eye-glasses were instantly directed. Pranken, after speaking with his comrades and shaking hands with one and another, soon returned to Sonnenkamp and his party.

The Cabinetsräthin leaned in the most friendly way on Sonnenkamp's arm; Pranken escorted Frau Ceres; Roland and the cadet shot arrows at a target, Roland always hitting the bull's eye.

Sonnenkamp was introduced to the General, and received from him a promise soon to visit Villa Eden. Pranken was glad to be able to show a new recruit in the person of Roland.

As evening came on, the bright-colored lamps were lighted. Suddenly there was a firing of cannon, a beating of drums, and a shouting of huzzas, in honor of the arrival of the Prince from his estate to grace the banquet of the officers. Both bands struck up, "Hail to the Chief," and all was rejoicing. Happiest of the whole company, perhaps, was Sonnenkamp, who had been presented to the Prince and received a few commonplace words from him. Though the words were nothing, the world had seen the Prince speak with him and give him a friendly greeting.

They drove back to the capital in a high state of delight. The colored lamps kept shining and the music sounding.

The next morning it was announced in the papers: —

"Yesterday evening the cuirassiers of the guard celebrated their annual festival on Rudolph's Hill. His Highness, Prince Leonhard, graced the entertainment with his presence. Among the guests was Herr Sonnenkamp, of Villa Eden, with his highly-respected family."

CHAPTER IV.

THE PLACE IS TAKEN

While the Sonnenkamp family was at the capital, Eric rode to Wolfsgarten. He had fought down every traitorous, unholy thought within him, or rather had prevented such from rising, and thought only of the obligation that rested on him to show his appreciation of the noble friendship which Bella had certainly manifested towards him, by speaking to her of the excellence and truly admirable elevation of her husband's character. That was his sole purpose, and with a clear and happy spirit he rode on his way.

He found Clodwig alone, Bella having driven out to make a visit. Clodwig was glad to have Eric for once all to himself; in former visits he had too often had to amuse himself with the boy, while Eric walked with Bella. Clodwig told of the son of a friend of his, the Russian Ambassador at Naples, who had come to pursue under his guidance the study of husbandry in Germany. The fact of the abolition of serfdom by the Emperor of Russia was producing a great moral and economic effect. The landowners would have to increase their own resources, as well as those of the soil; from mere landowners they must become husbandmen. The young Prince, like most other princes, had been a little wild in Paris, but there were the germs of good in him, and a power of will which encouraged the most favorable hopes. A sort of sacred zeal for self-sacrifice and devotion to the lower classes was not uncommon among the Russians, and often took such strong possession of the gay and dissipated as to recall the conversion of those saints we are told of, who, from the wildest debauchees, have suddenly been made conscious of their moral responsibilities.

"But be on your guard," he said, as if instructing Eric. "No aristocracy in the world is so eager for knowledge as that of Russia; but unhappily their zeal and aspirations run themselves out in a year or two, and they easily fall back into lazy indifference. They have a great talent for imitation, but how persevering it will be, or whether they can produce anything new, remains to be proved. Perhaps this freeing of the serfs is a great moral turning-point."

Eric thought it a glorious proof of the free spirit of the age, that this enfranchisement was the work not of the clergy, whose office it might seem peculiarly to be, but of pure and simple humanity, having no ecclesiastical stamp.

"That idea had not occurred to me," answered Clodwig, expressing his gratitude in word and tone.

The two men were still engaged in far-reaching discussions concerning the power of the spirit, and Clodwig was just expressing his pain at the power which brute force exercises over the spirit, so much greater than man is willing to acknowledge to himself, when Bella entered. Her face glowed as she greeted Eric; and her companion, an elegant but rather blasé-looking young man, gave him a gracious salutation. He was glad, he said, that Eric spoke French so fluently, for his own German was very clumsy; and he added that Eric's French descent was apparent in his accent, which was such as only a French tongue was capable of.

After separating for a short time, the party reassembled for a second breakfast in the room opening on the garden.

Clodwig must have strongly impressed upon the Russian the advantages he would derive from intercourse with Eric, for the young man addressed him at once by saying, "I should be very glad if you would let me learn something from you."

He said it so confidingly, and with so much of a child's submission, that Eric gave him his hand, saying, —

"I am sure I shall be able to learn something from you too."

"Except whist, which every one says I play exceedingly well, I am afraid there is nothing to be learned from me," laughed the Russian.

Then, as a man who at once looks to the producers for a knowledge of the products of a country, he said, —

"I hear that philosophy has gone out of fashion in Germany; can you tell me any reason for the fact?"

Clodwig nodded; the topic was well chosen, and the question modestly put.

Eric suggested as his opinion, without having any definite information to give on the subject, that perhaps philosophy was regarded less as a separate science, and had become the groundwork of all the sciences.

"Are you of opinion," asked the Prince, "that the categorical imperative of Kant, and the French Revolution, have tended to the same results?"

Bella laid back her head, and looked up into the blue sky. The men were entering upon themes which, in deference to her, ought to be postponed to another time, but she would be patient and listen.

Eric explained that the principle of Kant, "So act that you can wish the rule of your actions to be the rule of all human actions," established the same ideal as the French Revolution, with its equality before the law; there are to be no more privileged classes.

"But does not this equality destroy all greatness, all genius?" asked the Russian.

Bella thought this a good opportunity for breaking her silence, and quickly choosing her side, she added: – .

"I would go further, and ask if richly endowed natures do not make new laws in the intellectual and political world, as well as the æsthetic."

Clodwig smiled to hear his wife thus trotting out her hobby-horse, but Eric answered, smilingly, – "That is the miserable mistake for which Jesuitism in the Church, and frivolity in the world, are equally answerable. Peculiar natures have been granted by the world, and have come to claim for themselves, certain exceptional privileges and immunities, which, if generally allowed, would be subversive of human society. What are called superior natures have greater responsibilities than others, but no exceptional rights. Before God and the moral sense of humanity, we are all equal, as Christianity exhaustively expresses in the words, 'we are all children of God.' Children are equal before their father. But the Church grants indulgences; the State, rights of primogeniture; sophistry, moral exemptions. No single man of iron will come to establish the new kingdom of equality; the kingdom is at hand; its road is the iron rail, its horse is the steam."

"You speak well; it is a great pleasure to me to have made your acquaintance," said the Prince to Eric. "I pray you to come often to see me; or will you let me come to you?"

Eric, who, in his excitement, had said more than he intended, expressed his thanks, saying at the same time that he must consecrate his time and strength to his pupil. He was angry with himself at thus speaking out his whole heart on every occasion, instead of adopting the light conversational tone of society. He thought he knew what the young noble meant by his compliment. A beautiful way of speaking, indeed! A new dish, a new sauce, new music, charming capriccios! None but a fool would expose the treasures of his heart to them.

Eric was struck with the expression of Bella's face; it was set and hard. What have I done, she thought, that he should read me such a lesson about no one claiming exemption from the rule of morality? She was thoroughly angry, and with difficulty forced a smile to her face. She soon controlled herself, however, and managed to make the two young men enter upon a little passage of arms before her.

The Prince had the advantage of Eric in a knowledge of current events, and in practical experience of the world. Eric readily granted the victory to be on his opponent's side in many instances.

As they were walking in the garden, the Prince leaning familiarly on Eric's arm, he asked if Eric was acquainted with Herr Weidmann, to whom Clodwig intended to send him.

Eric replied that he had only seen him once or twice, but that he was universally esteemed.

"If you should happen to have any friend like yourself," said the Prince, pressing Eric's arm as he spoke, "if you should know any one whom you could recommend to be my guide and instructor, I could make provision for him for life, or – excuse the question – would you yourself perhaps – ?"

Eric declined the honor, but promised to bear the subject of an instructor in mind.

Bella joined them, and Eric walked by the side of the other two, his mind agitated by a variety of emotions. He had pondered so carefully on the best way of drawing himself and Bella back from that dangerous boundary line of friendship, and here his pains had been thrown away, for another already occupied his place. His vanity was secretly wounded that this man of the world, with his prettily-dressed nothings, should at once have become a greater favorite than he with his tiresome solidities and all his historical luggage. At heart he was indignant at Bella's familiarity with the Russian, and a strange confusion of feeling arose within him. Should he be glad to think this woman nothing but a coquette, trifling now with one man and now with another? or did, Bella thus act only to make less marked her intimacy with himself, which she desired not to display before others?

His mind was harassed by opposite emotions; one moment he was glad of the lesson he had received, for now he could go back to his work with an unburdened mind; the next he was again angry with himself for his ignorance of the ways of polite society.

The Doctor's arrival changed as usual the current of the conversation. One sharp glance embraced Bella, Eric, and the Russian, and seemed to reveal to him their respective positions. Bella and the Doctor always had a little private warfare going on between them.

CHAPTER V.

A HARSH JUDGMENT

The Doctor desired Eric to tie his horse to the back of the carriage, and drive with him part way to the villa.

When the two were seated together, the Doctor began, after first puffing out a long breath: —

"A beautiful woman is Countess Bella, and a clever. She loves her parrot, which, apparently, is allowed to fly at liberty in the forest, but must return obediently to his mistress's shoulder."

"Permit me one observation," interrupted Eric. "I have noticed that here in the country, and wherever the society is limited, the conversation is apt to turn upon a third person, and generally – not in your case, perhaps, but in the case of most persons whom I have heard talk – in a not very charitable way. Do you not consider this a proof of narrowness, or whatever else of that nature you may choose to call it?"

The Doctor perceived that Eric was disinclined to pursue this subject, but he nevertheless replied: —

"The human race affords the most abundant material for conversation, and of that race the most inexhaustible matter is furnished by the variety woman. I am not meaning now to speak of Bella, but of myself. I have discovered in this woman an entirely new variety."

"With your permission, honored Herr Doctor, the Countess seems to be in perfect health."

"Did you never know Frau Bella before?"

"But slightly," said Eric reluctantly.

"I, however, knew her well. She made a marriage of convenience, as many others have done, and I think none the worse of her for it. My opinion on such matters differs from that of most men. The Countess is modest as far as her talents are concerned, but is proud of her morality. I happen to know that she told the Count before the betrothal, that she was too insignificant for him, was, in fact, not worthy of him. In regard to intellect, her modesty was sincere, though somewhat exaggeratedly expressed. She has talent, but no soul; she is all seasoning, no solid food. But morally this confession was perfectly true; morality with her is only propriety."

"I must beg you – " interposed Eric.

"And I must beg you," broke in the Doctor, "to let me finish my sentence. Her morality I mean is that of the world, which considers only the outward marriage essential, and knows no relation of marriage save a relation of the outward tie. To Count Clodwig, purity and beauty are a law; every sin against them offends his nature; he could not be guilty of the smallest violation of them, even if no mortal eye should detect it."

In the pause which ensued, Eric's heart beat hard. Was the man describing Clodwig's purity, in order to show him how base would be the slightest approach to injuring or betraying such a friend?

The Doctor continued: —

"A man can receive no higher honor than that of being Clodwig's friend. I do not love the aristocracy; nay, I may even say I hate them; but in this Count Clodwig there is a nobleness which perhaps can only come to perfection through the fostering care of generations, and cannot be fully developed among us commoners, where everything is a fresh conquest smelling of the new varnish, which is always likely to crack away. There is a steady, even temperature about Clodwig, never amounting to a hot blaze, but always a beneficent warmth. You see I have learned from you to make illustrations," he said playfully, then continued, more seriously: —

"His one passion is for rest, which makes it the more remarkable that he should have sacrificed so much of it for your sake. I do not agree with the wicked world in pronouncing Countess Bella to be a very dragon of virtue. On the contrary, she must have every week, or every month at farthest, some fair name to destroy, or, better, some guilty person to use her cat's claws upon; like a well-trained hound, she likes best to attack a poor hare in the eyes; then she is satisfied, perfectly polite and obliging, harming nobody, for she is not really cruel and pitiless. She speaks very kindly of any one so long as he is unfortunate; when people are humbled she readily pardons them; as soon as a man is sick she is most kindly disposed towards him, but as long as he keeps well he need expect nothing but severity from her. She has beautiful and abundant hair, but that does not please her so much as the being able to tell of this woman or that, how many pounds of false hair she wears. If she can say that any woman is scrofulous, she is quite happy; for she would have only the Prankens perfectly sound. Once let her make an assertion, and she never retreats from it; better that her husband, Pranken, the whole world, should be illogical, than that she should be mistaken. Bella von Wolfsgarten never allows herself to be mistaken. She has never worn an unbecoming dress, has never said a word which might not be engraved upon stone. That she calls character; that she calls strength, – never to confess to a mistake. Let the logic of the whole world go to the devil first! She can make the eggs dance nicely in conversation. Did you ever receive one of her dainty little notes? She can dance even upon paper with the most supple grace."

Eric passed his hand across his brow; he no longer knew where he was. The Doctor threw away a half-smoked cigar, and continued: —

"The wicked world hopes, and, alas! its hopes cannot be fulfilled without stabbing our noble Clodwig to the heart, – it hopes that this dragon of virtue will one day find its unsaintly George. But that would have to be a man whose ambition is, as we say, to be successful with the women; not one to whom the words love, magnanimity, aspiration, are realities, and who could not use them as a cloak for other ends."

Eric knew not what to answer. He clenched his fist to keep himself still, for he felt himself trembling.

The Doctor pulled a string which brought the drag against the wheel; the wagon went creaking and scraping down the hill; they looked over the precipice, at the bottom of which a little brook was babbling over rocks. Such an abyss had opened before Eric. When they were driving again comfortably through the valley, the Doctor resumed: —

"When I say the wicked world, I am not using merely a figure of speech. I must explain to you what this new variety is that I have discovered in Frau Bella. It is this. There have been, and there exist still, many women who are, or who imagine themselves to be, no matter which, very unhappy, or consider themselves very unfortunate because they have such inferior husbands, – men who love horses, dogs, and such like, while they themselves are lofty, unappreciated, ethereal souls. This new variety, however, which Frau Bella represents, is different. She is unhappy because of the greatness of her husband. Had she one of those well-trained puppets which are in the world for the purpose of wearing a court-dress, she might be unhappy, but loftily so; she could look upon herself as a fair flower-crowned victim, suffer with patience, bewail her fate, be on a pinnacle in fact, a being ever debarred from the noblest emotions of the heart. But by the side of the husband she has, she grows constantly more odious, more insignificant. He humiliates her by casting her into the shade; nay, more: by condemning her immature ideas only by a raising of his eyebrows. In fact, – she does not, I think, acknowledge it to herself, – she hates her husband for making solemn earnest of her light trifling with intellectual and moral things; he compels her to acknowledge mistakes and follies, and severely enough is he punished for doing so. I understand now the fable of the Harpies. The modern harpies besmear every noble thought till it becomes unpalatable and nauseous; and thus must Clodwig wrestle and fight for the common daily bread of the spirit. With all this, she is not without nobleness; she likes to help the sick, only is somewhat despotic in recommending her remedies. But do you know what the most dangerous thing about Frau Bella is?"

"Indeed I do not; I cannot imagine what climax you have yet to reach."

"A very simple one. We hear the devil talked about in the churches, but in these days he appears as a very complaisant, very noble and self-sacrificing demon, who comes to us and says, – Here, you are the friend of this woman; avail yourself of her esteem for you, her confidence in you, to put her in the right frame of mind; you must teach her to appreciate her husband, to honor him as he desires to be honored. This sophistical demon seems to be very subtle, but is really the clumsiest of all; for never did one human being learn to value another, least of all, a wife her husband, through a third person's influence. There is a final impulse of life, and a final impulse of love, which must come from the person himself; and where that does not exist, the tongues of angels would be employed in vain. Have you seen the head of Medusa? The ancients esteemed the victory over Medusa to be the greatest achievement of Theseus; she is poisonous beauty. In ancient times she hardened men to stone, in modern, she softens them into effeminacy. I have a special hatred against this Frau Bella; do you know why? Because she makes a hypocrite of me every time I go to Wolfsgarten. I have no business to be so polite as I am to her; and the fact that I am so, out of regard to Clodwig, is no excuse. No one has such a bad effect upon me as this Frau Bella; she makes a hypocrite of me, and she kindles in me such a passion for destruction as I had not thought myself capable of. She is a quack doctress. If I prescribe a medicine, she always knows beforehand what I am going to prescribe. Medicinally I have pretty much broken down her pretensions, but intellectually she has more than ever. She has family medicines and figures of speech at her tongue's end, as if she had been a deep student, whereas the root of her whole nature is want of reverence, an impertinent meddling with every subject; for everything is a vain show to her mind; she has no respect even for herself, knowing that she is herself nothing but a vain show. One deep-rooted trait in her is ingratitude. Come what may to her, she will still be ungrateful. If you want to see the exact opposite to Bella, look at the Major, who is grateful for everything, even for the very air he breathes. That old child of a Major is seventy years old, and has not yet lost faith in human goodness. If the devil incarnate were to appear, he would find something good in him; but this Bella is without principle. A man may be evil-minded, and yet have strength and active powers left for the world's service; but an evil-minded woman is wholly evil and only evil. Do you know who would be a fit mate for Frau Bella?"

"I know nothing about it," cried Eric in despair; he felt as if he must jump out of the wagon.

"The only man who would do for her, the only man capable of subduing and governing this whole menagerie which bears the name of Bella, is Herr Sonnenkamp; in fact, there is a secret sympathy between them."

Eric was glad he could laugh; but the Doctor continued: —

"I am a heretic, my young friend; I believe that woman is an inferior variety in the human race. A man can never be so bad as a woman, can never be so hypocritical. For the latter quality, to be sure, women are not responsible, having been taught from childhood that the world cares only for appearances. But the main defect is, that they have no broad humanity; they, do not go down to the first principles from which all things start; they regard everything as being sewed and colored, in the same way that their hats and mantillas are by the mantuamakers. On the other hand, they stand under the curse of the beasts: they cannot heartily rejoice with another; slander is a peculiar symptom of blood-thirstiness. Throughout all nature, the female is the crudest."