Читать книгу The Life of Bismarck, Private and Political - George Hesekiel - Страница 15

The Kattenwinkel.—Wust.—Lieutenant Von Katte.—Schönhausen.—Its History.—The Church.—Bishop Siegobodo.—Bismarck’s Mansion.—Interior.—Bismarck’s Mother.—Bismarck’s Birth-Chamber.—The Library.—Bismarck’s Youthful Studies.—Bismarck’s Maternal Grandmother.—The Countess with the Dowry.—Ghost Stories.—Anecdote of a Ghost.—The Cellar Door.—The French at Schönhausen.—The Templars.—The Park.—The Wounded Hercules.—The Pavilion.—Two Graves.—The Orangery.—The Knight’s Demesne.—Departure from Schönhausen.

On leaving Fischbeck for Schönhausen there is on the right the Kattenwinkel, or Kattenland. By this we are not reminded of the old Teutonic tribe of the Catte, of whose relations towards the Cherusci we know very little, but of the old and chivalrous race of Katte, established in this region for the last five hundred years. Almost all the villages whose church spires we see or do not see, in the corner between the Havel and the Elbe, belonged or still belong to the family Von Katte.

Among these villages is Wust. In the church of that place are buried the remains of that Katte, whose friendship for Frederick the Great ended in the tragedy of Küstrin.[22] There is something fantastic, and at the same time touching, in the fact, that, as well as the skull of the executed John Hermann von Katte, the periwig trimmed with blue lace, and worn by him, has been preserved in the family vault at Wust. The Katte family[23] was very numerous, and in this district there is scarcely a church or family mansion which does not bear its canting heraldic coat of arms. By marriages, also, the azure shield, with the white cat bearing the mouse in its mouth, has spread in all directions. It is impossible to contemplate the armorial bearings of the Kattes without thinking of the beheaded friend of the great Frederick. Just as the cat, in the coat of arms, plays cruelly with the mouse, did the furious King Frederick William play with him. It is a milder trait in the tragedy of Küstrin, that the angry King endeavored in his peculiar way to comfort John Hermann’s father, as well as his grandfather, Field-Marshal Count Wartensleben, for the terrible fate of their son and grandson. Frederick William I. was an angry and almost coarsely-severe monarch, but there was nothing of the Oriental despot about him, and, to do him justice, his native benevolence and Christian conscientiousness must not be overlooked. Oriental despots were not, however, then confined to the Orient. The general character of King Frederick William the Severe bears a favorable contrast with those of the other rulers of his time.

As we drove into Schönhausen, the church bell was ringing; but it did not give a clear sound, but appeared dull. The bell of the prettiest village church between the Havel and the Elbe is cracked, and will probably soon be recast; but we can not deny that the very dullness of its sound, amidst the sunlight and blossoms of the well-wooded roadway, had a peculiar effect upon the mind.

Schönhausen is an ancient place, and, like all this portion of the circle of Jerichow, was originally ecclesiastical property. It formed part of the endowment granted in 946 by Emperor Otto I. to the bishopric of Havelberg, founded by him. This grant of Otto’s, in course of time, was considerably divided; Schönhausen and Fischbeck, however, remained attached to the cathedral of Havelberg as maintenance of the bishopric. Until the fifteenth century Schönhausen was an ordinary village, governed by a bailiff. But during the bishopric of John von Schlabrendorf, who occupied the episcopal throne during the peaceful period between 1501 and 1520, the place greatly improved, and made some progress towards becoming a township. In an acknowledgment, still extant, of the year 1547, the receipt runs thus: “Received of the worshipful magistrates and sheriffs of the borough of Schönhausen.” The place had therefore become a borough. The bounds of this borough were very considerable, for, besides the forest-land, they comprehended more than 20,000 acres of arable land. Hence it ensued that Schönhausen, down to recent times, always reckoned more inhabitants than the neighboring township of Jerichow. As, however, there no longer existed any bishops of Havelberg as its protectors, Schönhausen was unable to maintain its rank as a borough, although time has not effaced all similarity in the place to a town or market-place. Schönhausen suffered greatly in the Thirty Years’ War, alternately from the Swedes and the Imperial forces; and of forty-eight farms only one remained. In 1642 the manor-house was plundered and burnt; and in 1651 the whole district was visited by a severe inundation. For many years there was no pastor attached to the church, until the Bismarcks summoned, in 1650, the Rev. Adam Winkler from Grosswulkow.

The church and the manor-house are situated close together upon an eminence, and from the churchyard there is a fine view. This venerable sanctuary was consecrated on the 7th of November, 1212, and built by Bishop Siegobodo of Havelberg, at the beginning of his episcopate, he being one of the first spiritual shepherds who busied himself in the establishment of Christianity in this neighborhood. Its patron saints were the Virgin and the martyr Willebrod. In order to increase the sanctity of this church, which, from the rarity of churches at that time, was frequented by the inhabitants of an extensive district, a rich collection of relics was established there. Among these were relics of the holy martyr of Thebes, of the martyr Sebastian, of Bishop Constantine, of the Abbot Ægidius, of St. Alban, and others. These were discovered on the repair of the altar in 1712, contained in a sealed casket, together with an original record by Bishop Siegobodo as to the consecration of the church and the deposit of the relics. The church of Schönhausen is the largest, handsomest, and most perfect village church in the whole district—its shape in grand simplicity is that of a tri-naved basilica. Its origin from the Havelberg bishops is also shown by the broad tower transept, the cathedral of Havelberg having been the pattern of all churches in the vicinity. The Landrath August von Bismarck especially promoted the interior decorations of the church; he also, in great measure, restored the manor-house. He presented the handsomely carved pulpit and staircase in the centre, as well as the splendid and richly carved oak dais opposite the pulpit. He also set up the altar and altar-piece. To his parents he erected a memorial with oval portraits; the costume of the pictures is that of the middle of the seventeenth century. His own mural inscription, erected by his son, is at a little distance, but it is far inferior in execution. Under these memorial tablets is placed, in a style of the utmost simplicity, that of the mother of our Minister-President.

The mansion of the Bismarcks is close to the church. It is entered by a gateway with walled railings, having to its left the farm building, and in front of it a tall and handsome lime-tree, which, as it were, marks the boundary between the offices and the special courtyard of the mansion. At a few paces from the lime stands a sandstone vase, and we then find ourselves in front of the house where Bismarck was born.

It is a plain, massive, quadrangular building of the last few years of the seventeenth century, the enormous foundation-walls of which date from the early castle first inhabited by the Bismarcks: this was ravaged and burnt during the Thirty Years’ War. The house is in two stories, with a high roof. On the right a wing is built out, extending as far as a sandstone vase. The park begins on the left with magnificent alleys of chestnuts and limes.

The doorway is as simple as the house, without steps or porch. The shield above it bears on the right the arms of the Bismarcks, and on the left those of the Kattes—the cat with the mouse. The inscription to the right is August von Bismarck, that on the left is Dorothea Sophia Katte, anno 1700.

Round the corner, by a door leading to the garden, the house can be entered through a handsome and spacious garden saloon. The ceiling of this room is decorated with the armorial bearings.

This ground-floor leads into a large hall, whence there is a heavy, broad, and dark staircase to the upper rooms. The next room is the comparatively low-ceilinged dining-room, hung with white tapestry; and here we also found the ceiling borders and the two fireplaces richly ornamented with carving. On the side-tables stand busts of Frederick William III. and Frederick William IV., the latter as Crown Prince. The furniture is plain.

From the dining-room the door to the left leads into two handsome reception-rooms, the one ornamented with oil paintings, the other decorated in the Japanese style. Here are, in the corners, casts of Kiss’s Amazon, and Rauch’s Walburga riding on the stag.

To the right of the dining-room is situated the sitting-room of Countess Bismarck, tapestried in green. The pictures and lithographs are of the time of Frederick William III., and over the chimney-piece is the medallion portrait of a woman, probably an antique beauty. The principal object in this room is the portrait of the Minister-President’s mother.

Farther on again to the right we enter the bed-chamber; in yonder alcove, now divided from the room by a red curtain, Otto von Bismarck was born, on the 1st of April, 1815. In this alcove his cradle stood, but it is now only occupied by the bed in which his father died.

It is a simple apartment, presenting a comfortable and cosy aspect.

The third door in the background of the green sitting-room leads to the library, a spacious chamber painted red, having in the centre a ponderous and broad table. The books are contained in two bookcases. The collection is not inconsiderable in number, but their arrangement is confused.

It was worth while to cast a glance into the book-shelves, and see what books were studied by Count Bismarck in his youth. In one of the cases we found honest old Zedler’s voluminous Universal Lexicon of the Sciences and Arts; next to it the extensive collection, “Theatrum Europæum,” still an indispensable companion; a General History of Germany, a Universal History, both written in the pedantic tone of the last century; Gledow’s “History of the Empire;” a historical Labyrinth of Time, and Ludwig Gottfried’s “Historical Chronicle of the Four Monarchies.” Theology was represented by Dr. Martin Luther’s German writings. Next to a collection of old travels, stood a Political and News Lexicon, with Busching’s “Geography.” The other bookcase, in its upper shelves, appears dedicated to the Belles Lettres. Voltaire and the Letters of Count von Bussy stood peacefully beside Frederick von Schlegel’s works and Leopold Schefer’s “Lay Breviary;” next to Basedow’s “Introduction” was lying Herschel’s “Popular Astronomy.”

Turning from the books to the pictures, we find them of special interest, as they chiefly depict members of the family. A couple of portraits of Bismarck’s only sister when very young, evidence some remote likeness to the mother.

No portrait of the Minister-President himself anywhere exists in the house. There was, however, one of his brother, the Royal Chamberlain, Bernhard von Bismarck, of Külz, Provincial Councillor in the circle of Naugard—a youthful face, not much like the Minister-President. Count Bismarck is also personally unlike his mother, although we can scarcely doubt her influence over his mental qualities. We may mention among the pictures a very interesting one of his maternal grandmother, and also one of his uncle General von Bismarck.

By chance we noticed, half-concealed by the enormous stove, the portrait of a lady. The original had scarcely been a beauty; her features were hard and unformed, though this might partly have been the painter’s fault. This picture had its little history.

BISMARCK’S ARMORIAL BEARINGS.

Madame Bellin, the housekeeper, told us that during the absence of Bismarck’s father on a journey, she had found it in a loft, cleaned it, and brought it down to the library. She asked her master on his return whose portrait it was, and learned that it was that of a young countess who had in his youth been suggested to him as a wife, with a dowry of one hundred thousand thalers.[24] We could readily understand that Herr von Bismarck found few charms in the picture, but the housekeeper, who was struck with the dowry, exclaimed, “Ah! gnädiger Herr, I should have had her if she had possessed a hundred thousand thalers!” Bismarck’s father replied, with a smile, “Well, you can have her yourself, if you like her so much.”

In those days people had a great deal of respect for a hundred thousand thalers, and such a sum of money was then respectfully called a ton of money. In our times a hundred thousand thalers form no great amount of wealth, although one does not instinctively put one’s hand in one’s pocket to give the poor possessor a trifle by way of charity. At least, such was the expression of a well-known young nobleman lately, on speaking of the difference in the times. However, the portrait of the young countess with the hundred thousand thalers has hung in the library behind the stove at Schönhausen ever since.

The peculiarity of the paternal mansion of Bismarck consists in its quadrangular form, its thick walls, its massive heavy staircase, the depth and low pitch of its rooms, and the almost extravagant use of stucco on the ceilings, friezes, stoves, and panels. But the whole mansion impresses you with an air of comfort and homely solidity; there is a historical air of noble simplicity throughout the whole of the apartments.

Schönhausen would of course not be a correct dwelling-house for an ancient family, if proper ghost stories did not pertain to it; and the ancient structure does not look as if these were deficient. On the contrary, there never was a house more like a haunted house than this cradle of Bismarck’s. Those, indeed, who were able to tell of the ghosts which flitted about the mansion are long since buried, and we were obliged to content ourselves with a very poor remainder of these traditions; but what is still preserved was quite sufficient to satisfy the charm of terror in the ladies, at times guests at the mansion, if not to arouse terror of a real kind, without any delightful sensation. The library was especially “uncanny;” a faithful servant, who slept there when the family was from home, often woke up in the night with a cold breath to disturb him; he perceived that there was a “something” unpleasantly close to him, and his usually fearless spirit was seized with icy horror. It was by no means so unpleasant when the “something” evinced its presence in some more definite manner, as, for instance, when it came tramping up the oak staircase outside, or banged itself down with a dull thud. The man who related this was not at all wanting in courage; he knew that he was quite alone in the house; he always concluded it to be thieves, but if he put out his hands they encountered nothing, and if he went out from the room he found no one there. It is very easy to laugh at these things, but that is all of no use; the unexplained always has its terrors until some false or true solution of the enigma is found.

One night, Bismarck, before he was Minister, occupied the bedroom in which he was born; he had guests in the mansion—among others a certain Herr von Dewitz. The next day a hunting party was to take place, and a servant had been instructed to awaken his master at an early hour. Suddenly Bismarck awoke; he heard the door of the library in the adjacent chamber open, and thought he perceived soft footsteps. He concluded it was the servant coming to awaken him. At that moment he heard Herr von Dewitz exclaim, “Who’s there?” He sprang from the bed, the clock struck twelve, and there was nobody to be seen. He had felt or heard something, as other persons had before him, which was susceptible of no explanation. Another of the Bismarcks had also seen something; if we are not mistaken this was an uncle of the Minister’s, the General von Bismarck, who died in 1881. He saw, certainly only in a dream, a fleeting white form that beckoned to him; he followed, and it led him down into the cellar, the most ancient part of the building, and there showed him a door in which there was cut an opening in the form of a heart. He thought from the motions of the apparition that it signified to him the existence of a concealed treasure. This was, as already stated, all a dream, but the dream was so vivid, it made such an impression on him, that on the next morning he examined the cellar closely; he found, hidden behind rubbish and lumber, a little door with a heart-shaped opening in it, the existence of which was quite unsuspected by any of the members of the family. The door had now been found, but alas! no treasure was discovered, for the door only concealed a hidden passage leading into the Church.

In the library door there are three deep cracks, commemorating the presence of evil spirits of any thing but a ghostly nature; they were French soldiers, who in 1806 pursued the young and lovely lady of the mansion, and endeavored to break down the door with their bayonets, when the fugitive had locked it behind her. Bismarck’s father sheltered his wife from the attentions of the children of the “grande nation” in the forest, but his ready money, among which was a considerable sum in louis-d’ors, he buried under the solitary pavilion in the park island. His astonishment was great, when, on his return, he found his treasure disturbed, but not stolen, though the louis-d’ors were scattered about. Not the French, but the dogs, had discovered it, had scratched up the earth, and thrown the gold pieces contemptuously aside.

It does not seem that Schönhausen had ever been in the possession of the Soldiers of the Holy Virgin—the Order of the Temple; but in the ghostly chronicles of the mansion the Knights Templars play a considerable part. Their long white mantles with the red cross are certainly particularly adapted for this; but it is a sign of the deep impression made by the sudden destruction of the mighty Order, upon the people of these districts, that in all mysterious narratives, all secret subterranean passages, treasure hoards, and similar circumstances, we find the Templars with their long white cloaks occupying a conspicuous place. At the same time, there is much avarice mingled with this, for the most extravagant traditions found credence as to the wealth of the Templars. Buried treasures of the Order were suspected everywhere, and the poor Templars were doomed to guard the riches which they had accumulated during their lives, as ghosts, forever.

From the mansion we passed on to the upper terrace of the park, and wandered down the cool shady alley of limes, the branches of which bent to the ground, forming a verdant arbor of singular beauty. In this magnificent spot the lord of the mansion often had the table spread for himself and friends. The park is remarkably distinguished for fine rows of trees, both old and new, and the lime-tree seems ever to have been the favorite tree of the Bismarcks of Schönhausen.

On the wall, separating the terrace from the park itself, there is growing a very handsome birch-tree, which appears to have been self-sown. It has rooted itself deep into the stone, breaking down a portion of the wall, and now grows up amidst ruins and wreaths of roses, like the green flag of a victor.

The park is laid out according to the antique French style, with straight hedges, basins, and statues; but Nature has long since overcome the garden shears of Lenotre.

It is easy to perceive from the lower park itself that the lord of the manor is no longer present, and that the farm is leased. Between the tall noble avenues and picturesque foliage, broad patches planted with vegetables may be observed. This gives a homely, but scarcely a neglected, appearance to the place, as it does not destroy the general beauty of the view.

By an avenue, adorned with really splendid limes, we reach a small bridge, leading across the mantled pool which divides the park from the fields. On this side is the cool shade of the limes; yonder in the sunshine is Indian corn and beet-root. By this bridge stands a statue of Hercules with its hand on its back, cut in sandstone, on the north side of which the Junker Otto Bismarck once fired off his rifle—the marks of which musketry are still visible—and he ever afterwards used to assure his friends that Hercules put his hand there because the shot still pained him! On one thigh, evidently by a later hand, some person has written “Adam.” This person, obviously somewhat wanting in his knowledge of mythology, no doubt was led to the explanation by the very primitive style of costume. But so long as the country side contents itself with such explanations, there is not much to be said against it. It is somewhat more reprehensible to decapitate the gods, to provide a whetstone for the scythe. This fate, however, a somewhat massive Flora has had to undergo; and there it stands behind a thicket, apparently mourning the loss of its curly head.

Upon a small artificial island in the park stands a lonesome pavilion in the style of the Regent, half hidden by trees and overgrown with moss. The poet might select it for the scene of the catastrophe of a romance. We did not cross the wooden bridge, because our friendly guide warned us against the gnats which for a long time, in many sorts and sizes, have enjoyed their innocent lives in that locality.

We did, however, visit two solemn places in the park—two graves. In a dark shrubbery, grown quite wild, lies an elder brother of Bismarck, deceased as a child. The cast-iron cross has evidently been erected over the grave at a later time.

At the very remotest corner of the park, close by the sedgy shore, we found the second grave. Here Captain von Bismarck, a cousin of the Minister, reposes. Above the last resting-place of the wearied soldier is another iron cross. This was the favorite spot of the old gentleman during his lifetime; beneath the trees, on the banks which now watch over his grave, he used in summer time to muse every day over his quiet fishing-rod, or gaze dreamily across into the blooming meadows beyond the water. At his express desire he was buried in this spot.

Besides the six-and-twenty farms and subsidiary patches, there is also at Schönhausen a knight’s demesne (Rittergut), formerly likewise the property of the Bismarcks, but which had to be sold in time of need. It now belongs to Dyke Captain Gaertner. It is related that the Minister wished to repurchase it, but Captain Gaertner, who did not wish to part with the property, asked 150,000 thalers more than the value, upon which Bismarck observed, “I would have given 50,000 thalers more than it was worth, but I can not agree to a larger sum.” This is only a popular tale, for the truth of which we can not vouch.

In taking leave of Schönhausen, we may be allowed to say that, in the general picture of the place, we seem to recognize individual traits of the man there born—or, rather, that the sight of Schönhausen has shown us features which point to cognate and similar facts in the outward appearance of Bismarck. It is difficult to express this in words, but the sentiment remains; and in this we need not appeal to posterity, as is the custom of authors when they feel assured that they will be unintelligible to their readers, but rather to all those alike familiar with Bismarck and his estate of Schönhausen.

Be health and blessings ever near

The mansion old by woods surrounded,

The cradle, so to Prussia dear,

Of him who Germany refounded.

By strength of thought and weapon’s might

He conquered, striving for the right;

Peace to the house and hail the star

That Prussia’s glory beams afar!

EARLY YOUTH.