Part 2 (1/2)

April 30, 1846 MY DEAR MAMMA,.

A thousand thanks for your letter, in which you tell me of Armgard von Schilling's betrothal to Herr von Maiboom of Pbppenrade. Armgard herself sent me an invitation (very fine, with a gilt edge), and also a letter in which she expresses herself as enchanted with her bridegroom. He sounds like a very handsome and refined man. How happy she must be! Everybody is getting married. I have had a card from Munich too, from Eva Ewers. I hear she's getting a director of a brewery. Now I must ask you something, dearest Mamma: Why do I hear nothing of a visit from the Buddenbrooks? Are you waiting for ah official invitation from Gr*? If so, it isn't necessary; and besides, when I remind him to ask you, he says, ”Yes, yes, child, your Father has something else to do.” Or do you think you would be disturbing me? Dh, dear me, no; quite the contrary! Perhaps you think you would make me homesick again? But don't you know I am a reasonable woman, already middle-aged and experienced? I've just been to coffee at Madame Kaselau's, a neighbour of mine. They are pleasant people, and our left-hand neigh-bours, the Gussmanns (but there is a good deal of s.p.a.ce be-tween the houses) are sociable people too. We have two friends who are at the house a good deal, both of whom live out here: Doctor Klaasen, of whom I must tell you more later, and Kesselmeyer, the banker, Gr*'s intimate friend. You don't know what a funny old man he is. He has a stubbly white beard and thin black and white hair on his head, that looks like down and waves in the breeze. He makes funny motions with his head, like a bird, and talks all the time, so I call him the magpie, but Gr* has forbidden 173 B U D D E M B R O O K S me to say that, because magpies steal, and Heir Kesselmeyer is an honourable man. He stoops when he walks, and rows along with his arms. His fuzz only reaches half-way down his head in the back, and from there on his neck is all red and seamy. There is something so awfully sprightly about him! Sometimes he pats me on the cheek and says, ”You good little wifey! what a blessing for Gr* that he has got you.” Then he takes out his eye-gla.s.ses (he always wears three of them, on long cords, that are forever getting tangled up in his white waistcoat) and sticks them on his nose, which he wrinkles up to make them stop on, and looks at me with his mouth open, until I have to laugh, right in his face. But he takes no offence at that. Gr* is very busy; he drives into town in the morning in our little yellow wagon and often does not come back till late. Sometimes he sits down with me and reads the paper. When we go into society--for example, to Kesselmeyer's, or to Consul Goudstikker on the Alster Dam, or Senator Bock in City Hall Street--we have to take a hired coach. I have begged Driinliuh again and again to get a coupe, for it is really a necessity out here. He has half promised, but, strange to say, he does not like to go into society with rne and is evidently displeased when I visit people in the town. Do you suppose he is jealous? Our villa, which I've already described to you in detail, dear Mamma, is really very pretty, and is much prettier by reason of the new furnis.h.i.+ngs. You could not find a flaw in the upstairs sitting-room--all in brown silk. The dining-room next is prettily wainscoted. The chairs cost twenty-five marks apiece. I sit in the ”pensee-rooni,” which we use as a sitting-room. There is also a little room for smoking and playing cards. The salon, which takes up the whole other half of the parterre, has new yellow blinds now and looks very well. Above are the bed, bath, and dressing-rooms and the servants' quarters. We have a little groom for the yellow wagon. I am fairly well satisfied with the two maid-servants. I am not sure they are quite honest, but thank G.o.d I don't have to look after every kreuzer. In short, everything is really worthy of the family and the firm. And now, dear Mamma, comes the most important part of my letter, which I have kept till the last. A while ago I was feeling rather queer--not exactly ill and yet not quite well. I told Dr. Klaasen about it when I had the chance. He is a little bit of a man with a big head and a still bigger hat. He carries a cane with a flat round handle made of a piece of bone, and walks with it pressed against his whiskers, which are almost light-green from being dyed so many years. Well, you should have seen him! he did not answer my questions at all, but jerked his eye-gla.s.ses, twinkled his little eyes, wrinkled his nose at me--it looks like a potato--snickered, giggled, and stared so impertinently that I did not know what to do. Then he examined me, and said everything was going on well, only I must drink mineral water, because I am perhaps a little anaemic. Dh, Mamma, do tell Papa about it, so he can put it in the family book. I will write you again as soon as possible, you may be sure. Give my love to Papa, Christian, Clara, Clothilde and Ida Jungmann. I wrote to Thomas just lately.

Your dutiful daughter, ANTONIE.

August 2, 1845 MY DEAR THOMAS,.

I have read with pleasure the news of your meeting with Christian in Amsterdam. It must have been a happy few days for both of you. I have no word as yet of your brother's further journey to England via Dstende, but I hope that with G.o.d's mercy it has been safely accomplished. It may not be too late, since Christian has decided to give up a professional career, for him to learn much that is valuable from his chief, Mr. Richardson; may he prosper and find blessing in the mercantile line! Mr. Richardson, Threadneedle Street, is, as you know, a close business friend of our house; I consider myself lucky to have placed both my sons with such friendly-disposed firms. You are now experiencing the good result of such a policy; and I feel profound satisfaction that Heir van der Kellen has already raised your salary in the quarter 175 of a year you have been with him, and that he will continue to give you advancement. I am convinced that you have shown and will continue to show yourself, by your industry and good behaviour, worthy of these favours. I regret to hear that your health is not so good as it should be. What you write me of nervousness reminds me of my own youth, when I was working in Antwerp and had to go-to Ems to take a cure. If anything of the sort seems best for you, my son, I am ready to encourage you with advice and a.s.sistance, although I am avoiding such expense for the rest of us in these times of political unrest. However, your Mother and I took a trip to Hamburg in the middle of June to visit your sister Tony. Her husband had not invited us, but he received us with the greatest cor-diality and devoted himself to us so entirely during the two days of our visit, that he neglected his business and hardly left me time for a visit to Duchamps in the town. Antonie is in her fifth month, and her physician a.s.sures her that every-thing is going on in a normal and satisfactory way. I have still to mention a letter from Herr van der Kellen, from which I was pleased to learn that you are a favoured guest in his family circle. You are now, my son, at an age to begin to harvest the fruits of the upbringing your parents gave you. It may be helpful to you if I tell you that at your age, both in Antwerp and Bergen, I formed a habit of making myself useful and agreeable to my princ.i.p.als; and this was of the greatest service to me. Aside from the honour of a.s.sociation with the family of the head of the firm, one acquires an advocate in the person of the princ.i.p.al's wife; and she may prove invaluable in the undesirable contingency of an oversight at the office or the dissatisfaction of your chief for some slight cause or other. As regards your business plans for the future, my son, I rejoice in the lively interest they indicate, without being able entirely to agree with them. You start with the idea that the market for our native products--for instance, grain, rape-seed, hides and skins, wool, oil, oil-cake, bones, etc.--is our chief concern; and you think it would be of advantage for you to turn yourself to the commission branch of the busi-ness. I once occupied myself with these ideas, at a time when the compet.i.tion was small

it has since distinctly increased), and I made some experiments in 'them. My journey to Eng-land had for its chief purpose to look out connections there for my undertakings. To this end I went as far as Scotland, and made many valuable acquaintances; but I soon recognized the precarious nature of an export trade hither, and decided to discourage further expansion in that direction. Thus I kept in mind the warning of our fore-father, the founder of the firm, which he bequeathed to us, his descendants: ”My son, attend with zeal to thy business by day, but do none that hinders thee from thy sleep at night.” This principle I intend to keep sacred, now as in the past, though one is sometimes forced to entertain a doubt, on con-templating the operations of people who seem to get on better without it. I am thinking of Strunk and Hagenstrom, who have made such notable progress while our own business seems almost at a stand-still. You know that the house has not enlarged its-business since the set-back consequent upon the death of your grandfather; and I pray to G.o.d that I shall be able to turn over the business to you in its present state. I have an experienced and cautious adviser in our head clerk Marcus. If only your Mother's family would hang on to their groschen a little belter! The inheritance is a matter of real importance for us. I am unusually full of business and civic work. I have been made alderman of the Board of the Bergen Line; also city deputy for the Finance Department, the Chamber of Commerce, the Auditing Commission, and the Almshouse of St. Anne, one after the other. Your Mother, Clara and Clothilde send greetings. Also several gentlemen--Senator Mb'llendorpf, Doctor Overdieck, Consul Kistenmaker, Gosch the broker, C. F. Kbppen, and Herr Marcus in the office, have asked to be remembered. G.o.d's blessing on you, my dear son. Work, pray, and save.

With affectionate regards, YOUR FATHER.

BUDDENBRD DKS.

October B, 1846 DEAR AND HONOURED PARENTS,.

The undersigned is overjoyed to be able to advise you D the happy accouchement, half an hour ago, of your daughter, my beloved wife Antunie. It is, by G.o.d's will, a daughter; I can find no words to express my joyful emotion. The health of the dear patient, as well as of the infant, is unexception-able. Dr. Klaaserj is entirely satisfied with the way things have gone; and Frau Grossgeorgis, the midwife, says it was simply nothing at all. Excitement obliges me to lay down my pen. I commend myself to my worthy parents with the most respectful affection. B. GRUNLICH. If it had been a boy, I had a very pretty name. As it is, I wanted to name her Met a, but Gr* is for Erica.

CHAPTER II.

”WHAT is the matter, Betsy?” said the Consul, as he came to the table and lifted up the plate with which his soup was covered. ”Aren't you well? You don't look just right to me.” The round table in the great dining-room was grown very small. Around it there gathered in these days, besides the parents, only little Clara, npw ten years old, Mamsell Jung-mann, and Clothilde, as humble, lean, and hungry as ever. The Consul looked about him: every face was long and gloomy. What had happened? He himself was troubled and anxious; for the Bourse was unsteady, owing to this complicated Schleswig-Holstein affair. And still another source of dis-quiet was in the air; when Anton had gone to fetch in the meat course, the Consul heard what had happened. Trina, the cook, who had never before been anything but loyal and dutiful to her mistress, had suddenly shown clear signs of revolt. To the Frau Consul's great vexation, she had been maintaining relations--a sort of spiritual affinity, it seemed--with the butcher's apprentice; and that man of blood must have influenced her political views in a most regrettable way. The Consul's wife had addressed some reproach to her in the matter of an unsuccessful sauce, and she had put her naked arms akimbo and delivered herself as follows: ”You jus' wait, Frau Consul; 'tain1 goin' t' be much longer--there'll come another order inter the world. 'N' then I'll be sittin' on the sofa in a silk gownd, an' you'll be servin' me.” Natu-rally, she received summary notice. The Consul shook his head. He himself had had similar troubles. The old porters and labourers were of course re-179 spectful enough, and had no notions in their heads; but sev-eral here and there among the young ones had shown by their bearing that the new spirit of revolt had entered into them. In the spring there had been a street riot, although a con-st.i.tution corresponding to the demands of the new time had already been drafted; which, a little later, despite the opposition of Lebrecht Kroger and other stubborn old gentlemen, be-came law by a decree of the Senate. The citizens met to-gether and representatives of the people were elected. But there was no rest. The world was upside down. Every one wanted to revise the const.i.tution and the franchise, and the citizens grumbled. ”Voting by estates,” said some--Consul Johann Buddenbrook among them. ”Universal franchise,” said the others; Heinrich Hagenstrb'm was one of these .5till others cried ”Universal voting by estates”--and dear knew what they meant by that! All sorts of ideas were in the air; for instance, the abolition of disabilities and the general ex-tension of the rights of citizens.h.i.+p--even to non-Christians! No wonder Buddenbrook's Trina had imbibed such ideas about sofas and silk gowns! Oh, there was worse to come! Things threatened to take a fearful turn. It was an early [Jctober day of the year 1848. The sky was blue, with a few light floating clouds in it, silvered by the rays of the sun, the strength of which was indeed not so great but that the stove was already going, behind the polished screen in the landscape-room. Little Clara, whose hair had grown darker and whose eyes had a rather severe expression, sat with some embroidery before the sewing-table, while Clothilde, busy likewise with her needlework, had the sofa-place near the Frau Consul. Although Clothilde Buddenbrook was not much older than her married cousin--that is to say, only twenty-one years--her long face already showed p.r.o.nounced lines; and with her smooth hair, which had never been blond, but always a dull greyish colour, she presented an ideal portrait of a typical old maid. But she was con- tent; she did nothing to alter her condition. Perhaps she thought it best to grow old early and thus to make a quick end of all doubts and hopes. As she did not own a single sou, she knew that she would find n.o.body in all the wide world to marry her, and she looked with humility into her future, which would surely consist of consuming a tiny in-come in some tiny room which her influential uncle would procure for her out of the funds of some charitable establishment for maidens of good family. The Consul's wife was busy reading two letters. Tony related the good progress of the little Erica, and Christian wrote eagerly of his life and doings in London. He did not give any details of his industry with Mr. Richardson of Threadneedle Street. The Frau Consul, who was approaching the middle forties, complained bitterly of the tendency of blond women to grow old too soon. The delicate tint which corresponded to her reddish hair had grown dulled despite all cosmetics; and the hair itself began relentlessly to grey, or would have done so but for a Parisian tincture of which the Frau Consul had the receipt. She was determined never to grow white. When the dye would no longer perform its office, she would wear a blond wig. On top of her still artistic coiffure was a silk scarf bordered with white lace, the beginning, the first adumbration of a cap. Her silk frock was wide and flowing, its bell-shaped sleeves lined with the softest mull. A pair of gold circlets tinkled as usual on her wrist. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Suddenly there was a noise of running and shouting: a sort of insolent, hooting and cat-calling, the stamping of feet on the pavement, a hub-bub that grew louder and came nearer. ”What is that noise, Mamma?” said Clara, looking out of the window and into the gossip's gla.s.s. ”Look at the people! What is the matter with them? What are they so pleased about?”

1B1.

”My G.o.d!” shouted the Frau Consul, throwing down her letters and springing ID the window. ”Is it--? My G.o.d, it is the Revolution! It is the people!” The truth was that the town had been the whole day in a state of unrest. In the morning the windows of Benthien the draper's shop in Broad Street had been broken by stones--although G.o.d knew what the owner had to do with politics! ”Anton,” the Consul's wife called with a trembling voice into the dining-room, where the servants were bustling about with the silver. ”Anton! Go below! Shut the outside doors. Make everything fast. It is a mob.” ”Oh, Frau Consul,” said Anton. ”Is it safe for me to do that? I am a servant. If they see my livery--” ”What wicked people,” Clothilde drawled without putting down her work. Just then the Consul crossed the entrance hall and came in through the gla.s.s door. He carried his coat over his arm and his hat in his hand. ”You are going out, Jean?” asked the Frau Consul in great excitement and trepidation. ”Yes, my dear, I must go to the meeting.” ”But the mob, Jean, the Revolution--” ”Oh, dear me, Betsy, it isn't so serious as that! We are in G.o.d's hand. They have gone past the house already. I'll go down the back way.” ”Jean, if you love me--do you want to expose yourself to this danger? Will you leave us here unprotected? I am afraid, I tell you--I am afraid.” ”My dear, I beg of you, don't work yourself up like this. They will only make a bit of a row in front of the Town Hall or in the market. It may cost the government a few window-panes--but that's all.” ”Where are you going, Jean?” ”To the a.s.sembly. I am late already. I was detained by business. It would be a shame not to be there to-day. Do you think your Father is stopping away, old as he is?” 'Then go, in G.o.d's name, Jean. But be careful, I beg of you. And keep an eye on my Father. If anything hit him--'” ”Certainly, my dear.” ”When will you be back?” the Frau Consul called after him. ”Well, about half past four or five o'clock. Depends. There is a good deal of importance on the agenda, so I can't exactly tell.” ”Oh, I'm frightened, I'm frightened,” repeated the Frau Consul, walking up and down restlessly.