A dusky swarm of boys and half-grown youths came winding round the nearest street-corner, followed immediately by the head of a mock procession. In the lead marched a fellow dressed in a brown cloak, the hood of which was drawn over his head. His waist was encircled with a girdle from which dangled a string of pebbles representing a rosary. To complete the caricature of a Capuchin, his feet were bare, excepting a pair of soles which were strapped to them with thongs of leather. In his hands he bore a tall cross rudely contrived with a couple of sticks. The image of the cross was represented by a broken mineral-water bottle. Behind the cross-bearer followed the procession in a double line, consisting of boys, young men, factory-hands, drunken mechanics, and such other begrimed and besotted beings as progress alone can count in its ranks. The members of the procession were chanting a litany; at the same time they folded their hands, made grimaces, turned their eyes upwards, or played unseemly pranks with genuine rosary beads.
Next in the procession came a low car drawn by a watery-eyed mare which a lad bedizened like a clown was leading by the bridle. In the car sat a fat fellow whose face was painted red, and eyebrows dyed, and who wore a long artificial beard. Over a prodigious paunch, also artificial, he had drawn a long white gown, over which again he wore a many-colored rag shaped like a cope. On his head he wore a high paper cap, brimless; around the cap were three crowns of gilt paper to represent the tiara of the pope. A sorry-looking donkey walked after the car, to which it was attached by a rope. It was the rôle of the fellow in the car to address the donkey, make a sign of blessing over it, and occasionally reach it straw drawn from his artificial paunch. As often as he went through this manœuvre, the crowd set up a tremendous roar of laughter. The fat man in the car represented the pope, and the donkey was intended to symbolize the credulity of the faithful.
This mock pope was not a suggestion of Shund's or of any other inventive progressionist. The whole idea was copied from a caricature which had appeared in a widely circulating pictorial whose only aim and pleasure it has been for years to destroy the innate religious nobleness of the German people by means of shallow wit and vulgar caricatures. And this very sheet, leagued with a daily organ equally degraded, can boast of no inconsiderable success. The rude and vulgar applaud its witticisms, the low and infamous regale themselves with its pictures, and its demoralizing influence is infecting the land.
The principal feature of the procession was a wagon, hung with garlands and bestuck with small flags, drawn by six splendid horses. In it sat a youthful woman, plump and bold. Her shoulders were bare, the dress being an exaggerated sample of the style décolleté; above her head was a wreath of oak leaves. She was attended by a number of young men in masks. They carried drinking-horns, which they filled from time to time from a barrel, and presented to the bacchante, who sipped from them; then these gentlemen in waiting drank themselves, and poured what was left upon the crowd. A band of music, walking in front of this triumphal car, played airs and marches. Not even the mock pope was as great an object of admiration as this shameless woman. Old and young thronged about the wagon, feasting their lascivious eyes on this beastly spectacle which represented that most disgusting of all abominable achievements of progress-the emancipated woman. And perhaps not even progress could have dared, in less excited times, so grossly to insult the chaste spirit of the German people; but the social atmosphere had been made so foul by the abominations of the election, and the spirits of impurity had reigned so absolutely during the canvass in behalf of common schools, that this immoral show was suffered to parade without opposition.
The very commencement of this sacrilegious mockery of religion had roused Seraphin's indignation, and he had retired from the balcony. His father, however, had remained, coolly watching the procession as it passed, and carefully noting Louise's remarks and behavior.
"What does that woman represent?" he asked. "A goddess of liberty, I suppose?"
"Only in one sense, I think," replied the progressionist young lady. "The woman wearing the crown symbolizes, to my mind, the enjoyment of life. She typifies heaven upon earth, now that exact science has done away with the heaven of the next world."
"I should think yon creature rather reminds one of hell," said Mr. Conrad.
"Of hell!" exclaimed Louise, in alarm. "You are jesting, sir, are you not?"
"Never more serious in my life, Louise. Notice the shameless effrontery, the baseness and infamy of the creature, and you will be forced to form conclusions which, far from justifying the expectation of peace and happiness in the family circle, the true sphere of woman, will suggest only wrangling, discord, and hell upon earth."
The young lady did not venture to reply. A gentleman made his way through the crowd, and waved his hat to the company on the balcony. The banker returned the salutation.
"Official Seicht," said he.
"What! an officer of the government in this disreputable crowd!" exclaimed Gerlach, with surprise.
"He is on hand to maintain order," explained Greifmann. "You see some policemen, too. Mr. Seicht sympathizes with progress. At the last meeting, he made a speech in favor of common schools; he sounded the praises of the gospel of progress, gave a toast at the banquet to the gospel of progress, and has won for himself the title of evangelist of progress. He once declared, too, that the very sight of a priest rouses his blood, and they now pleasantly call him the parson-eater. He is very popular."
"I am amazed!" said Gerlach. "Mr. Seicht dishonors his office. He advocates common schools, insults all the believing citizens of his district, and runs with mock processions-a happy state of things, indeed!"
"His conduct is the result of careful calculation," returned Greifmann. "By showing hostility to ultramontanism, he commends himself to progress, which is in power."
"But the government should not tolerate such disgraceful behavior on the part of one of its officials," said Gerlach. "The entire official corps is disgraced so long as this shallow evangelist of progress is permitted to continue wearing the uniform."
"You should not be so exacting," cried Louise. "Why will you not allow officials also to float along with the current of progress until they will have reached the Eldorado of the position to which they are aspiring?"
"The corruption of the state must be fearful indeed, when such deportment in an officer is regarded as a recommendation," rejoined Mr. Conrad curtly.
A servant appeared to call them to table.
"Would you not like to see the celebration?" inquired Louise.
"By all means," answered Gerlach. "The excitement is of so unusual a character that it claims attention. You will have to accompany us, Louise."
"I shall do so with pleasure. When sound popular sentiment thus proclaims itself, I cannot but feel a strong desire to be present."
The procession had turned the corner of a street where stood Holt and two more countrymen looking on. The religious sentiment of these honest men was deeply wounded by the profanation of the cross; and when, besides, they heard the singing of the mock litany, their anger kindled, their eyes gleamed, and they mingled fierce maledictions with the tumult of the mob. Next appeared the mock pope, dispensing blessings with his right hand, reaching straw to the donkey with his left, and distorting his painted face into all sorts of farcical grimaces.
The peasants at once caught the significance of this burlesque. Their countenances glowed with indignation. Avenging spirits took possession of Mechtild's father; his strong, stalwart frame seemed suddenly to have become herculean. His fist of iron doubled itself; there was lightning in his eyes; like an infuriated lion, he burst into the crowd, broke the line of the procession, and, directing a tremendous blow at the head of the mock pope, precipitated him from the car. The paper cap flew far away under the feet of the bystanders, and the false beard got into the donkey's mouth. When the mock pope was down. Holt's comrades immediately set upon him, and tore the many-colored rag from his shoulders. Then commenced a great tumult. A host of furious progressionists surrounded the sturdy countrymen, brandishing their fists and filling the air with mad imprecations.
"Kill the dogs! Down with the accursed ultramontanes!"
Some of the policemen hurried up to prevent bloodshed. Mr. Seicht also hurried to the scene of action, and his shrill voice could be heard high above the noise and confusion.
"Gentlemen, I implore you, let the law have its course, gentlemen!" cried he. "Gentlemen, friends, do not, I beg you, violate the law! Trust me, fellow-citizens-I shall see that the impertinence of these ultramontanes is duly punished."
They understood his meaning. Sticks and fists were immediately lowered.
"Brigadier Forchhaem," cried Mr. Seicht, in a tone of command-"Forchhaem, hither! Put handcuffs on these ultramontanes, these disturbers of the peace-put irons on these revolutionists."
Handcuffs were forthwith produced by the policemen. The towering, broad-shouldered Holt stood quiet as a lamb, looked with an air of astonishment at the confusion, and suffered himself to be handcuffed. His comrades, however, behaved like anything but lambs. They laid about them with hands and feet, knocking down the policemen, and giving bloody mouths and noses to all who came within their reach.
"Handcuff us!" they screamed, grinding their teeth, bleeding and cursing. "Are we cutthroats?" The bystanders drew back in apprehension. The confusion seemed to be past remedying. A thousand voices were screaming, bawling, and crying at the same time; the circle around the struggling countrymen was getting wider and wider; and when finally they attempted to break through, the crowd took to flight, as if a couple of tigers were after them.
Many of the spectators found a pleasurable excitement in watching the battle between the policemen and the peasants; but they would not move a finger to aid the officers of the law in arresting the culprits. They admired the agility and strength of the countrymen, and the more fierce the struggle became, the greater grew their delight, and the louder their merriment.
Holt had been carried on with the motion of the crowd. When he dealt the blow to the fellow in the car, he was beside himself with rage. The genuine furor teutonicus had taken possession of him so irresistibly and so bewilderingly as to leave him utterly without any of the calm judgment necessary to measure the situation. After his first adventure, he had submitted to be handcuffed, and had watched the struggle between Forchhaem and his own comrades in a sort of absence of mind. He had stood perfectly quiet, his face had become pale, and his eyes looked about strangely. The excitement of passion was now beginning to wear off. He felt the cold iron of the manacles around his wrists, his eyes glared, his face became crimson, the sinews of his powerful arm stiffened, and with one great muscular convulsion he wrenched off the handcuffs. Nobody had observed this sudden action, all eyes being directed to the combatants. Shoving the part of the handcuff which still hung to his wrist under the sleeve of his jacket, Holt disappeared through the crowd.
The resistance of the peasants was gradually becoming fainter. At length they succumbed to overpowering force, and were handcuffed.
"Where is the third one?" cried Seicht. "There were three of them."
"Where is the third one? There were three of them," was echoed on every hand, and all eyes sought for the missing one in the crowd.
"The third one has run away, sir," reported Forchhaem.
"What's his name?" asked Seicht.
Nobody knew.
A street boy, looking up at the official, ingenuously cried, "'Twas a Tartar."
Seicht looked down upon the obstreperous little informant.
"A Tartar-do you know him?"
"No; but these here know him," pointing to the captives.
"What is the name of your comrade?"
"We don't know him," was the surly reply.
"Never mind, he will become known in the judicial examination. Off to jail with these rebellious ultramontanes," the official commanded.
Bound in chains, and guarded by a posse of police, these honest men, whose religious sense had been so wantonly outraged as to have occasioned an outburst of noble indignation, were marched through the streets of the town and imprisoned. They were treated as criminals for a crime, however, the guilt of which was justly chargeable to those very rioters who were enjoying official protection.
The procession moved on to the ground selected for the barbecue. A motley mass, especially of factory-men, were hard at work upon the scene. The booths, spread far and wide over the common, were thrown open, and around them moved a swarm of thirsty beings drawing rations of beer and sausages, with which, when they had received them, they staggered away to the tables. Degraded-looking women were also to be seen moving about unsteadily with brimming mugs of beer in their hands. There were several bands of music stationed at different points around the place.
The chieftains of progress, perambulating the ground with an air of triumph, bestowed friendly nods of recognition on all sides, and condescendingly engaged in conversation with some of the rank and file.
Hans Shund approached the awning where the woman with the bare shoulders and indecent costume had taken a seat. She had captivated the gallant chief magistrate, who hovered about her as a raven hovers over a dead carcass. Moving off, he halted within hearing distance, and, casting frequent glances back, addressed immodest jokes to those who occupied the other side of the table, at which they laughed and applauded immoderately.
The men whom Seraphin had met in the subterranean den, on the memorable night before the election, were also present: Flachsen, Graeulich, Koenig, and a host of others. They were regaling themselves with sausages which omitted an unmistakable odor of garlic, and were of a very dubious appearance; interrupting the process of eating with frequent and copious draughts from their beer-mugs.
"Drink, old woman!" cried Graeulich to his wife. "Drink, I tell you! It doesn't cost us anything to-day."
The woman put the jug to her lips and drained it manfully. Other women who were present screamed in chorus, and the men laughed boisterously.
"Your old woman does that handsomely," applauded Koth. "Hell and thunder! But she must be a real spitfire."
Again they laughed uproariously.
"I wish there were an election every day, what a jolly life this would be!" said Koenig. "Nothing to do, eating and drinking gratis-what more would you wish?"
"That's the way the bigbugs live all the year round. They may eat and drink what they like best, and needn't do a hand's turn. Isn't it glorious to be rich?" cried Graeulich.
"So drink, boys, drink till you can't stand! We are all of us big-bugs to-day."
"And if things were regulated as they should be," said Koth, "there would come a day when we poor devils would also see glorious times. We have been torturing ourselves about long enough for the sake of others. I maintain that things will have to be differently regulated."
"What game is that you are wishing to come at? Show your hand, old fellow!" cried several voices.
"Here's what I mean: Coffers which are full will have to pour some of their superfluity into coffers which are empty. You take me, don't you?"
"'Pon my soul, I can't make you out. You are talking conundrums," declared Koenig.
"You blockhead, I mean there will soon have to be a partition. They who have plenty will have to give some to those who have nothing."
"Bravo! Long live Koth!"
"That sort of doctrine is dangerous to the state," said Flachsen. "Such principles bring about revolutions, and corrupt society."
"What of society! You're an ass, Flachsen! Koth is right-partition, partition!" was the cry all round the table.
"As you will! I have nothing against it if only it were practicable," expostulated Flachsen; "for I, too, am a radical."
"It is practicable! All things are practicable," exclaimed Koth. "Our age can do anything, and so can we. Haven't we driven religion out of the schools? Haven't we elected Shund for mayor? It is the majority who rule; and, were we to vote in favor of partition to-morrow, partition would have to take place. Any measure can be carried by a majority, and, since we poor devils are in the majority, as soon as we will have voted for partition it will come without fail."
"That's sensible!" agreed they all. "But then, such a thing has never yet been done. Do you think it possible?"
"Anything is possible," maintained Koth. "Didn't Shund preach that there isn't any God, or hell, or devil? Was that ever taught before? If the God of old has to submit to being deposed, the rich will have to submit to it. I tell you, the majority will settle the business for the rich. And if there's no God, no devil, and no life beyond, well then, you see, I'm capable of laying my hand to anything. If voting won't do, violence will. Do you understand?"
"Bravo! Hurrah for Koth!"
"There must be progress," cried Graeulich, "among us as well as others. We are not going to continue all our lives in wretchedness. We must advance from labor to comfort without labor, from poverty to wealth, from want to abundance. Three cheers for progress-hurrah! hurrah!", And the whole company joined in frantically.
"There comes Evangelist Seicht," cried Koenig. "Though I didn't understand one word of his speech, I believe he meant well. Although he is an officer of the government, he cordially hates priests. A man may say what he pleases against religion, and the church, and the Pope, and the Jesuits, it rather pleases Seicht. He is a free and enlightened man, is he. Up with your glasses, boys; if he comes near, let's give him three rousing cheers."
They did as directed. Men and women cheered lustily. Seicht very condescendingly raised his hat and smiled as he passed the table. The ovation put him in fine humor. Though he had failed in securing a place in the assembly, perhaps the slight would be repaired in the future. Such was the tenor of his thoughts whilst he advanced to the climbing-pole, around which was assembled a crowd of boys. Quite a variety of prizes, especially tobacco-pipes, was hanging from the cross-pieces at the top of the mast. The pole was so smooth that more than ordinary strength and activity were required to get to the top. The greater number of those who attempted the feat gave out and slid back without having gained a prize. There were also grown persons standing around watching the efforts of the boys and young men.
"It's my turn now," cried the fellow who had carried the cross in the procession.
"But, first, let me have one more drink-it'll improve the sliding." He swallowed the drink hastily, then swaying about as he looked and pointed upward, "Do you see that pipe with tassels to it?" he said. "That's the one I'm going after."
Throwing aside his mantle, he began to climb.
"He'll not get up, he's drunk," cried a lad among the bystanders. "Belladonna has given him two pints of double beer for carrying the cross in the procession-that's what ails him."
"Wait till I come down, I'll slap your jaws," cried the climber.
The spectators were watching him with interest. He was obliged to pause frequently to rest himself, which he did by winding his legs tightly round the pole. At last he reached the top. Extending his arm to take the pipe, it was too short. Climbing still higher, he stretched his body to its greatest length, lost his hold, and fell to the ground. The bystanders raised a great cry. The unfortunate youth's head had embedded itself in the earth, streams of blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils-he was lifeless.
"He's dead! It's all over with him," was whispered around.
"Carry him off," commanded Seicht, and then walked on.
One of the bystanders loosed the cross-piece of the mock crucifix; the corpse was then stretched across the two pieces of wood and carried off the scene. As the body was carried past, the noise and revelry everywhere ceased.
"Wasn't that the one who carried the cross?" was asked. "Is he dead? Did he fall from the pole? How terrible!"
Even the progressionist revellers were struck thoughtful, so deeply is the sense of religion rooted in the heart of man. Many a one among them, seeing the pale, rigid face of the dead man, understood his fate to be a solemn warning, and fled from the scene in terror.
The progressionist element of the town was much flattered by the presence at its orgies of the wealthiest property owner of the country.
The women had already made the discovery that the millionaire's only son, Mr. Seraphin Gerlach, was on the eve of marrying a member of the highly respectable house of Greifmann, bankers. But it occasioned them no small amount of surprise that the young gentleman was not in attendance on the beautiful lady at the celebration. Louise's radiant countenance gave no indication, however, that any untoward occurrence had caused the absence of her prospective husband. The wives and daughters of the chieftains were sitting under an awning sipping coffee and eating cake. When Louise approached leaning on her brother's arm, they welcomed her to a place in the circle of loveliness with many courtesies and marks of respect.
Mr. Conrad strolled about the place, studying the spirit which animated the gathering.