THE HAUENSTEIN RIOT.

Through the Schwarzwald spreads a buzzing.

Buzzing as of bees when swarming, As of the approaching storm-wind.

In the tavern savage fellows Meet: their heavy fists are striking On the table: "Bring me wine here!

Better times are now approaching For this land of Hauenstein."

From the corn-loft brings the peasant His old-fashioned rusty musket, Which below the floor was hidden; Fetches also the long halberd.

On the walnut-tree the raven Harshly croaks: "Long have I fasted; Soon I'll have meat for my dinner, I shall relish thee, poor peasant!"

Now the people from the mountains.

Throng at Herrischried the market; There the seat is of their union, There they hold their union-meeting.

But to-day the Hauenstein peasants Came not in black velvet doublets, With red stomachers and white frills, As was usually their custom.

Some had buckled on cuira.s.ses, Others wore their leather doublets; In the breeze the flag was waving, And the morning sun was shining On their spears and thick spiked clubs.

Near the old church in the market Stood the village elders, with the Union-leader and mace-bearer.

"Silence, men!" the beadle shouted.

Silence reigned, and on the church-steps Mounted then the peasants' speaker, Holding an official paper, Stroked his long gray beard, and said:

"Inasmuch as the hard war-time Has much injured town and country, And the debt is much augmented; So to meet increased expenses Our most gracious rulers hereby Do exact new contributions; Seven florins from each household, And from all the bachelors two.

And next week the tax-collector Comes to gather these new taxes.

So 'tis written in this paper."

--"Death upon the tax-collector!

May G.o.d d.a.m.n him!" cried the people.-- "Now as we ourselves have suffered Quite enough by this sad war, and Many lost their goods and chattels; And because 'tis pledged in writing As one of our privileges, That there shall be no new taxes E'er imposed upon this country, Many this demand consider As a most unjust extortion, Think we should stand up most firmly For our ancient rights by charter, And should never pay a farthing."

--"Not a farthing!" cried the people.-- "So we summoned you together For your final resolution."

Like the distant surf their voices Loudly roared in wild confusion: "Come! stand up! speak out! We must now Hear the Bergalingen Fridli.

He knows best--and all we others Always are of his opinion."

Then stepped out the man thus called for, And upon a big log mounting, Spoke thus with a shrewd expression:

"Do you see at last, dull peasants, What the end will be? Your fathers Once gave up their little finger; Now they want to seize the whole hand.

Only give it, and you'll soon see, How they'll flay your very skin off!

Who can really thus compel us?

In his woods free lives the peasant, Nothing but the sun above him.

So it stands in our old records, In the statutes of our union: Nothing there of rent and socage, Nothing of a bondman's service!

But there's danger we shall have them.

Do you know what will protect us?

Yonder there the Swiss can tell you, And the valiant Appenzellers.

This here!"--and he brandished fiercely O'er his head his thick spiked club.-- "On the fir-tree I heard piping Lately a white bird at midnight: Good old time, that bygone time, Peasants, freemen in their forests; If with spears and guns you seek it, You will see it soon returning.

Now, Amen! my speech is ended."

Then wild cries rose from the people-- "He is right" were many saying; "To the devil with our rulers!

Burn these d.a.m.ned taxation-papers!

All these scribblers may look out soon If this flame can be extinguished With the fluid in their inkstands."

Said another: "Thou, oh governor, Didst consign me to a dungeon; Poor my fare, with only water!

Thou hast wine within thy cellar, And I hope we now shall try it.

Yes, with thee I'll square accounts soon!"

Said a third one: "Thee my musket, Which has brought down many woodc.o.c.ks, I shall use for n.o.bler sport soon.

Then hit well! For we'll be shooting At the great black double eagle."

Thus a murmur through the crowd went.

Just as when the plague is raging, Everywhere infection spreadeth, So were all the peasants' hearts now Filled with pa.s.sion and blind wrath.

And in vain spoke the experienced Villaringen elder, Balthes:

"If a horse's tail is bridled, Not his mouth, no one can drive him.

If the peasant seeks for justice By revolt, all will go badly; In the end he gets a thrashing.

Hence of old we were commanded To obey the ruling powers, And--" but now in voluntary Was he stopped in his sage counsels: "Turn him out, this old fool Balthes!

May G.o.d d.a.m.n him! He is faithless; He's a traitor to his country!"

Thus they howled out, stones were flying, Spears were threatening, and his friends could Hardly get him off in safety.

"To be short, what use of speaking?"

Fridli said, of Bergalingen.

"Who are faithful to our old rights And will go for them to battle, Raise their hands high!" And they raised them All, while loud hurrahs they shouted.

Arms are clanking, flags are waving, Battle-cries--the drums are beating.

And that day large bands were marching From the hills toward the river To attack the forest-cities.

In the forest from the fir-tree Looked the wood-sprite Meysenhartus, Mocking at the peasants' army, Said: "A lucky journey to you!

No need I should now mislead you, As you choose yourselves the wrong track!"

Scouts are riding, watchmen blowing, Women wailing, children crying; Through the vale rings the alarm-bell.

Burghers through the streets are running: "Close the gates! Defend the town-walls!

Bring the guns up to the tower!"

From the terrace saw the Baron This commotion in the forest, How the mountain-paths were darkened By the peasant-bands descending.

"Am I dreaming," said he, "or have All these men indeed forgotten, How a hundred and fifty years since Such mad peasants' jokes were punished?

Yes, indeed, the forest glitters With their helmets and their halberds.

Well devised, you cunning peasants!

While below there on the Danube The proud eagle of the emperor Lets the Turks feel his sharp talons, You think that it will be easy, On the Rhine to pluck his feathers!

Look out well that this your reckoning Won't deceive you; and I swear here, The old Baron will not fail to Greet you with a warm reception."

Turned and went into the castle, And he donned his leathern doublet, Buckled on the heavy broadsword, And gave orders to the household: "Quickly get your weapons ready, Keep good watch upon the towers, Raise the drawbridge, and let no one, While I am away, here enter!

Master Werner, you may order All the rest. Protect my castle, And my daughter, my chief treasure!

Have no fear, dear Margaretta; Brave must be a soldier's child.

Only some few coal-black ravens Come there flying from the forest, Want to get their skulls well battered 'Gainst the walls of this good city.

G.o.d preserve you! I myself go To my post, up to the town-hall."

Margaretta threw herself now In the Baron's arms, who kindly Pressed upon her brow fond kisses.

Shaking Werner's hand then warmly He walked off unto the square.

There the ladies of the convent Wailing went up to the minster: "Show us mercy, Fridolinus!"

By his door the "b.u.t.ton" landlord Asked the Baron: "Is it time now, That we put our gold and silver In the cellar's deepest places?"