Your most faithful
v.B.
Schönhausen, Sunday Evening.
(Postmarked Jerichow, September 30, '50.)
My Beloved Nan,– * * * I regained possession of my things in Berlin at some cost, after twenty-four hours had elapsed; when I left, the unfortunate Jew had not yet claimed his. Partly on my account and partly on Hans', we had to stay in Berlin two days, but this time the bill was more reasonable. * * * May the devil take politics! Here I found everything as we left it, only the leaves show the rosiness of autumn; flowers are almost more plentiful than in summer; Kahle has a particular fondness for them, and on the terrace fabulous pumpkins are suspended by their vines from the trees. The pretty plums are gone; only a few blue ones still remain; of the vine, only the common green variety is ripe; next week I shall send you some grapes. I have devoured so many figs today that I was obliged to drink rum, but they were the last. I am sorry you cannot see the Indian corn; it stands closely packed, three feet higher than I can reach with my hand; the colts' pasture looks from a distance like a fifteen-year-old pine preserve. I am sitting here at your desk, a crackling fire behind me, and Odin, rolled into a knot, by my side. * * * Mamsell received me in pink, with a black dancing-jacket; the children in the village ridicule her swaggering about her noble and rich relations. She has cooked well again today, but, as to the feeding of the cattle, Bellin laments bitterly that she understands nothing about it, and pays no attention to it, and she is also said to be uncleanly; the Bellin woman does not eat a mouthful prepared by her. Her father is a common cottager and laborer; I can easily understand that she is out of place there, with her grand airs and pink dresses. Up to this time the garden, outside of Kahle's keep, has cost one hundred and three rix-dollars this year, and between now and Christmas forty to fifty will probably be added for digging and harvesting, besides the fuel. The contents of the greenhouse I shall try to have care of in the neighborhood; that is really the most difficult point, and still one cannot continue keeping the place for the sake of the few oranges. I am giving out that you will spend the winter in Berlin, that in the summer-time we intend going to a watering-place again, and that, therefore, we are giving up housekeeping for a year. * * * Hearty love to our parents. I shall celebrate father's birthday with you, like a Conservative, in the old style. May the merciful God, for His Son's sake, preserve you and the children. Farewell, my dear Nan.
Your v.B.
Since leaving Reinfeld I no longer have heartburn; perhaps it is in my heart, and my heart has remained with Nan.
Schönhausen, October 1, '50.
My Angel,—I am so anxious that I can hardly endure being here; I have the most decided inclination to inform the government at once of my resignation, let the dike go, and proceed to Reinfeld. I expected to have a letter from you today, but nothing except stupid police matters. Do write very, very often, even if it takes one hundred rix-dollars postage. I am always afraid that you are sick, and today I am in such a mood that I should like to foot it to Pomerania. I long for the children, for mammy and dad, and, most of all, for you, my darling, so that I have no peace at all. Without you here, what is Schönhausen to me? The dreary bedroom, the empty cradles with the little beds in them, all the absolute silence, like an autumn fog, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock and the periodic falling of the chestnuts—it is as though you all were dead. I always imagine your next letter will bring bad news, and if I knew it was in Genthin by this time I would send Hildebrand there in the night. Berlin is endurable when one is alone; there one is busy, and can chatter all day; but here it is enough to drive one mad; I must formerly have been an entirely different mortal, to bear it as I did. * * * The girl received the notice to leave very lightly and good-naturedly, as quite a matter of course; Kahle, on the other hand, was beside himself, and almost cried; said he could not find a place at Christmas-time, and would go to the dogs, as he expressed it. I consoled him by promising to pay his wages for another quarter if he failed to find a place by New Year's. The girl is quite useless except in cooking, of which more orally. I cannot enumerate all the little trifles, and certainly Kahle does not belong to the better half of gardeners. * * * I feel so vividly as if I were with you while writing this that I am becoming quite gay, until I again recollect the three hundred and fifty miles, including one hundred and seventy-five without a railroad. Pomerania is terribly long, after all. Have you my Külz letter, too? Bernhard has probably kept it in his pocket. Do not prepay your letters, or they will be stolen. Innumerable books have arrived from the binder; he claims one section of Scott's Pirate is missing; I know nothing about it. The tailor says that he has been able to make only five pair of drawers from the stuff; presumably he is wearing the sixth himself. Farewell, my sweetheart. Write as often as you can, and give love and kisses to every one from me, large and small. May God's mercy be with you.
Your most faithful v.B.
Schönhausen, October 10, '50.
My Darling,—In a sullen rage I swoop down upon my inkstand after just lighting the Town Councillor downstairs with the kindliest countenance in the world. He sat here for two and a half hours by the clock, moaning and groaning, without the least regard for my wry face; I was just about to read the paper when he came. From ten to two I crawled about the Elbe's banks, in a boat and on foot, with many stupid people, attending to breakwaters, protective banks, and all sorts of nonsense. This is, in general, a day of vexations; this morning I dreamed so charmingly that I stood with you on the seashore; it was just like the new strand, only the mud was rocks, the beeches were thick-foliaged laurel, the sea was as green as the Lake of Traun, and opposite us lay Genoa, which we shall probably never see, and it was delightfully warm; then I was awakened by Hildebrand, accompanied by a summoner, who brought me an order to serve as a juror at Magdeburg from October 20th to November 16th, under penalty of from one hundred to two hundred rix-dollars for each day of absence. I am going there by the first train tomorrow, and hope to extricate myself; for God so to punish my deep and restless longing for what is dearest to me in this world, so that we shall not have the fleeting pleasure of a couple of weeks together, would, indeed, be incredibly severe. I am all excitement; that is our share in the newly achieved liberty—that I am to be forced to spend my few days of freedom sitting in judgment over thievish tramps of Jews, like a prisoner in a fortress. I hope Gerlach can free me; otherwise I shall never speak to him again. Tomorrow I shall at once drop you a line from Magdeburg, to tell you how I succeed. * * * The people have abandoned the dike-captain conspiracy against me; the Town Councillor says he will not press it at all. He chattered to me for hours about his land-tax commission, in which his anxiety drove him to rage against his own flesh, and also, unfortunately, against ours. Our chief misfortune is the cowardly servility towards those