Buddenbrooks (17 page)

BUDDENBR DDKS

They confirmed themselves and each other in this resolve of patient waiting. They began to get used to the noise that rose and fell outside, to feel quieter; to make themselves more comfortable, to sit down on the lower benches and chairs. The natural instinct toward industry, common to all these good burghers, began to assert itself: they ventured to bargain a little, to pick up a little business here and there. The brok-ers sat down by the wholesale dealers. These beleaguered gentlemen talked together like people shut in by a sudden storm, who speak of other things, and now and then pause to listen with respectful faces to the thunder. It was five o'clock--half-past five. It was getting dark. Now and then some-body sighed and said that the wife would be waiting with the coffee--and then Herr Benthien would venture to mention the trap-do or. But most of them were like Herr Stuht, who said fatalistically, shaking his head, "I'm too fat." Mindful of his wife's request Johann Buddenbrook had kept an eye on his father-in-law. He said to him: "This little adventure isn't disturbing you, is it, Father?" Lebrecht Kroger's forehead showed two swollen blue veins under his white wig. He looked ill. One aristocratic old hand played with the opalescent buttons on his waistcoat; the other, with its great diamond ring, trembled on his knee. "Fiddlesticks, Buddenbrook," he said; but his voice showed extreme fatigue. "I am sick of it, that's all." Then he be-trayed himself by suddenly hissing out: "Parbleu, Jean, this infamous rabble ought to be taught some respect with a little powder and shot. Canaille! Scum!" The Consul hummed assent. "Yes, yes, you are right; it is a pretty undignified affair. But what can we do? We must keep our tempers. It's getting late. They'll go away after a bit." "Where is my carriage? I desire my Damage," said the old man in a tone of command, suddenly quite beside himself. His anger exploded; he trembled all over. "I ordered it for five o'clock: where is it? This sitting will never be held .191 Why should I stop any longer? I don't care about being made a fool of. My carriage! What are they doing to my coach-man? Go see after it, Buddenbrook." "My dear Father-in-Law, for heaven's sake be calm. You are getting excited. It will be bad for you. of course I will go and see after the carriage. I think myself we have had enough of this. I will speak to the people and tell them to go home." Close by the little green door he was accosted by Siegis-mund Grosch, who grasped his arm with a bony hand and asked in a gruesome whisper: "Whither away, Herr Consul?" The broker's face was furrowed with a thousand lines. His pointed chin rose almost up to his nose, his face expressed the most desperate resolution; his grey hair streamed dis-tractedly over brow and temples; his head was so drawn in between his shoulders that he really almost achieved his am-bition of looking like a dwarf--and he rapped out: "You behold me resolved to speak to the people." The Consul said: "No, let me do it, Gosch. I really know more of them than you do." "Be it so," answered the broker tonelessly. "You are a bigger man than I." And, lifting his voice, he went on: "But I will accompany you, I will stand at your side, Consul Buddenbrook. Let the wrath of the outraged people tear me in pieces--" "What a day, what a night!" he said as they went out. There is no doubt he had never felt so happy before in his life. "Ha, Herr Consul! Here are the people." They had gone down the corridor and outside the outer door, where they stood at the top of three little steps that went down to the pavement. The street was indeed a strange sight. It was as still as the grave. At the open and lighted windows of the houses round, stood the curious, looking down upon the black mass of the insurgents before the Burgesses' House. The crowd was not much bigger than that inside the hall. It consisted of young labourers from the harbour and granaries, servants, school pupils, sailors from the merchant ships, and other people from the little streets, alleys, courts, and rabbit-hutches round about. There were even two or three women--who had probably promised themselves the same millennium as the Buddenbrooks' cook. A few of the insur-rectionists, weary of standing, had sat down with their feet in the gutter and were eating sandwiches. It was nearly six o'clock. Though twilight was well ad-vanced, the oil lamps hung unlighted above the street. This fact, this open and unheard-of interruption of the regular order, was the first thing that really made Consul Budden-brook's temper rise, and was responsible for his beginning to speak in a rather short and angry tone and the broadest of pronunciations: "Now then, all of you, what is the meaning of this foolish-ness?" The picnickers sprang up from the sidewalk. Those in the back ranks, beyond the foot-pavement, stood on their tiptoes. Some navvies', in the Service of the Consul, took off their caps. They stood at attention, nudged each other, and muttered in low tones, " 'Tis Consul Buddenbrook. He be goin' to talk. Hold yer jaw, there, Chrishan; he can jaw like the devil himself! Ther's Broker Gosch--look! What a monkey he is! Isn't he gettin' o'erwrought!" "Carl Smolt!" began the Consul again, picking out and fastening his small, deep-set eyes upon a bow-legged young labourer of about two-and-twenty, with his cap in his hand and his mouth full of bread, standing in front of the steps. "Here, speak up, Carl Smolt! Now's the time! I've been here the whole afternoon--" "Yes, Herr Consul," brought out Carl Smolt, chewing violently. "The thing is--ower--it's a soart o'--we're mak-kin' a involution." "What kind of nonsense is that, then?" "Lord, Herr Consul, ye knaw what that is. We're not satisfied wi' things as they be. We demand another order u' things; tain't any more'n that--that's what it is." "Now, listen, Carl Smolt and the rest of you. Whoever's got any sense will go home and not bother himself over any revolutions, disturbing the regular order of things--" "The sacred order," interrupted Herr Gosch dramatically. "The regular order, I say," finished the Consul. "Why, even the lamps aren't lighted. That's going too far with the revolution." Carl Smolt had swallowed his mouthful by now, and, with the people at his back, stood his ground and made some ob-jections. "Well, Herr Consul, ye may say that. But we're only agin the principle of the voate--" "God in heaven, you ninny," shouted the Consul, forgetting, in his excitement, to speak dialect. "You're talking the sheerest nonsense--" "Lord, Herr Consul," said Carl Smolt, somewhat abashed, "thet's oall as it is. Rivolution it has to be. Ther's Evolution iverywheer, in Berlin, in Paris--" "But, Smolt, what do you want? Just tell me that, if you can." "Lord, Herr Consul, I say we wants a republic; that's wat I be savin'." "But, you fool, you've got one already." "Well, Herr Consul, then we wants another." Some of the bystanders, who understood the matter better, began to laugh rudely and heartily; and although few even heard Carl's answer, the laughter spread until the whole crowd of republicans stood shaking good-naturedly. Some of the gentlemen from inside the hall appeared at the window with curious faces and beer-mugs in their hands. The only person disappointed and pained by this turn of affairs was Siegis-mund Gosch. "Now, people," shouted Consul Buddenbrook finally, "I think the best thing for you all to do is to go home." Carl Smolt, quite crestfallen over the result he had brought about, answered "That's right, Herr Consul. Then things'll be quieted down. And Herr Consul doesn't take it ill of me, do'e, now? Good-bye, Herr Consul!" The crowd began to disperse, in the best of humours. "Wait a minute, Smolt," shouted the Consul. "Have you seen the Kroger carriage? the caleuhe from outside the Castle Gate?" "Yes, sir, Herr Consul. He's here; he be driven up in some court somewhere." "Then run quick and say he's to come at once; his master wants to go home." "Servant, Herr Consul," and, throwing his cap on his head and pulling the leather visor well down over his brows, Carl Smelt ran with great swinging strides down the street, CHAPTER IV WHEN the Consul and Siegismund Gosch returned to the hall, the scene was a more comfortable one than it had been a quarter of an hour before. It was lighted by two large oil lamps standing on the Committee table, in whose yellow light the gentlemen sat or stood together, pouring out beer into shining tankards, touching glasses and talking loudly, in the gayest of humours. Frau Suerkringel, the widow, had con-soled them. She had loyally taken on her enforced guests and given them good advice, recommending that they fortify themselves for the siege, which might endure some while yet. And thus she had profitably employed the time by selling a considerable quantity of her light yet exhilarating beer. As the others entered, the house-boy, in shirt-sleeves and good-natured grin, was just bringing in a fresh supply of bottles. While it was certainly late, too late to consider further the revision of the Constitution, nobody seemed inclined to in-terrupt the meeting and go home. It was too late for coffee, in any case. After the Consul had received congratulatory handshakes on his success, he went up to his father-in-law. Lebrecht Kroger was the only man in the room whose mood had not improved. He sat in his place, cold, remote, and lofty, and answered the information that the carriage would be around at once by saying scornfully, in a voice that trembled more with bitter-ness than age: "Then the mob permits me to go home?" With stiff movements that no longer had in them anything of the charm that had been his, he had his fur mantle put about his shoulders, and laid his arm, with a careless "Merci," on that of the Consul, who offered to accompany him home.

BUDDENBROOK5

The majestic coach, with two large lanterns on the box, stood in the street, where, to the Consul's great satisfaction, the lamps were now being lighted. They both got in. Silent and stiffly erect, with his eyes half-closed, Lebrecht Kroger sat with the rug over his knees, the Consul at his right hand, while the carriage rolled through the streets. Beneath the points of the old man's white moustaches two lines ran down perpendicularly from the corners of his mouth to his chin. He was gnawed by chagrin at the insult that had been offered him, and he stared, weary and chilled, at the cushions opposite. There was more gayety in the streets than on a Sunday eve-ning. Obviously a holiday temper reigned. The people, de-lighted at the successful outcome of the revolution, were out in the gayest mood. There was singing. Here and there youngsters shouted "Hurrah!" as the carriage drove past, and threw their caps into the air. "I really think, Father, you let the matter affect you too much," the Consul said. "When one thinks of it, what a tom-fool business the whole thing was--simply a farce." In order to get some reply from the old man he went on to talk about the revolution in lively tones. "When the propertyless class begin to realize how little they serve their own ends--why, good heavens, it's the same everywhere. I was talking this afternoon with Gosch the broker, a wonderful man, looking at everything with the eyes of a poet and writer. You see, Father, this revolution was made at the esthetic tea-tables of Berlin. Then the people take their own skin to mar-ket--for, of course, they will be the ones to pay for it!" "It would be a good thing if you would open the window on your side," said Herr Kroger. Johann Buddenbrook gave him a quick glance and let the glass down hastily. "Aren't you feeling well, dear Father?" he asked anxiously. "Not at all," answered Lebrecht Kroger severely. "You need food and rest," the Consul said; and in order to 197 BUDDENBRDOKS be doing something he drew up the fur rug closer about his father-in-law's knees. Suddenly--ihe carriage was rolling through Castle Street--a wretched thing happened. Fifteen paces from the Castle Date, in the half-dark, they passed a group of noisy and happy street urchins, and a stone flew through the open win-dow. It was a harmless little stone, the size of a hen's egg, flung by the hand of some Chris Snut or Heine Voss to cele-brate the revolution; certainly not with any bad intent, and probably not directed toward the carriage at all. It came noiselessly through the window and struck Lebrecht Kroger in his chest, which was covered with the thick fur rug. Then it rolled down over the cover and fell upon the floor of the coach. "Clumsy fools!" said the Consul angrily. "Is everybody out of their senses this evening? It didn't hurt you, did it?" Did Kroger was silent--alarmingly silent. It was too dark in the carriage to see his expression. He sat straighter, higher, stiff er than ever, without touching the cushions. Then, from deep within him, slowly, coldly, dully, came the single word: "Canaille." For fear of angering him further, the Consul made no an-swer. The carriage clattered through the gate, and three minutes later was in the broad avenue before the gilt-tipped railings that bounded the Kroger domain. A drive bordered with chestnut trees went from the garden gate up to the ter-race; and on either side of the gate a gilt-topped lantern was burning brightly. The Consul saw his father-in-law's face by this light--it was yellow and wrinkled; the firm, contemp-tuous set of the mouth had given way: it had changed to the lax, silly, distorted expression of a very old man. The car-riage stopped before the terrace. "Help me out," said Lebrecht Kroger; but the Consul was already out, had thrown back the rug, and offered his arm and shoulder as a support. He led the old man slowly for a few paces across the gravel to the white stone steps that went up to the dining-room. At the foot of these, the old man bent at the knee-joints. His head fell so heavily on his breast that the lower jaw clashed against the upper. His eyes rolled--grew dim; Lebrecht Kroger, the gallant, the cavalier a-la-mode, had joined his fathers.

CHAPTER V

A YEAR and two months later, on a misty, snowy morning in January of the year 1850, Herr and Madame Gr� sat at breakfast with their little three-year-old daughter, in the brown wainscoted dining-room, on chairs that cost twenty-five marks apiece. The panes of both windows were opaque with mist; behind them one had vague glimpses of bare trees and bushes. A red glow and a gentle, scented warmth came from the low, green-tiled stove standing in a corner. Through the open door next it one could see the foliage-plants in the "pensee-room." On the other wall, half-drawn green stuff portieres gave a view of the brown satin salon and of a lofty glass door leading on to a little terrace beyond. The cracks in this door were carefully stopped with cotton-wool, and there was nothing to be seen through its panes but the whitish-grey mist beyond. The snow-white cloth of woven damask on the round table had an embroidered green runner across it, laid with gold-bordered porcelain so translucent that it gleamed like mother-of-pearl. The tea-kettle was humming. There was a finely worked silver bread-basket in the shape of a curling leaf, with slices and rolls of fine bread; under one crystal bell were little balls of butter, under another different sorts of cheese, white, yellow, and green. There was even a bottle of wine standing before the master of the house; for Herr Gr� had a full breakfast every morning. His whiskers were freshly curled, and at this early hour his rosy face was rosier than ever. He sat with his back to the salon, already arrayed in a black coat and light trousers with a pattern of large checks, eating a grilled chop, in the English manner. His wife thought this very elegant, but also very disgusting--she had never brought herself to take it instead of her usual breakfast of bread and butter and an egg- Tony was in her dressing-gown. She adored dressing-gowns. Nothing seemed more elegant to her than a handsome negligee, and as she had not been allowed to indulge this passion in the parental house she was the more given to it as a wife. She had three of these dainty clinging garments, to the fashioning of which can go so much more taste and fantasy than to a ball-gown. To-day she wore her dark red one. Its colour toned beautifully with the paper above the wainscoting, and its large-flowered stuff, of a beautiful soft texture, was embroidered all over with sprays of tiny glass beads of the same colour, while row after row of red velvet ribbons ran from neck to hem. Her thirk ash-blonde hair, with its dark red velvet band, curled about her brows. She had now, as she was herself well aware, reached the highest point of her physical bloom; yet her pretty, pouting upper lip retained just the nai've, pro-vocative expression of her childhood. The lids of her grey-blue eyes were reddened with cold water. Her hands, the white Buddenbrook hands, finely shaped if a little stumpy, their delicate wrists caressed by the velvet cuffs of her dressing-gown, handled her knife and fork and tea-cup with motions that were to-day, for some reason or other, rather jerky and abrupt. Her little daughter Erica sat near her in a high chair. She was a plump child with short blonde hair, in a funny, shapeless, knitted frock of pale blue wool. She held a large cup in both tiny hands, entirely concealing her face, and drank her milk with little sighs of satisfaction. Frau Gr� rang, and Tinka, the housemaid, came from the entry to take the child from her high chair and carry her upstairs into the play-room. "You may take her walking outside for a half-hour, Tinka," said Tony. "But not longer; 201 BUDDENBRDOKS and put on her thick jacket. It is very damp and foggy." She remained alone with her husband. "You only make yourself seem absurd," she said then, after a silence, obviously continuing an interrupted conversation. "What are your objections? Give me some reason. I can't be always attending to the child." "You are not fond of children, Antonie." "Fond of children, indeed! I have no time. I am taken up with the housekeeping. I wake up with twenty things that must be done, and I go to bed with forty that have not been done." "There are two servants. A young woman like you--" "Two servants. Good. Tinka has to wash up, to clean, to serve. The cook is busy all the time. You have chops early in the morning. Think it over, Gr�. Sooner or later, Erica must have a bonne, a governess." "But to get a governess for her so soon is not suited to our means." "Our means! Goodness, you are absurd! Are we beggars? Are we forced to live within the smallest limits we can? I think I brought you in eighty thousand marks--" "Oh, you and your eighty thousand marks--!" "Yes, I know you like to make light of them. They were of no importance to you because you married me for love! Good. But do you still love me? You deliberately disre-gard my wishes. The child is not to have a governess. And I don't even speak any more of the jcoupe, which we need quite as much as we need food and drink. And why do you insist on our living out here in the country, if it isn't in accordance with our means to keep a carriage so that we can go into soci-ety respectably? Why do you never like it when I go in to town? You would always rather just have me bury myself out here, so I should never see a living soul. I think you are very ill-tempered." Herr Gr� poured some wine into his glass, lifted up 2D2 one of the crystal bells, and began on the cheese. He made no reply. "Don't you love me any more?" repeated Tony. "Your silence is so insulting, it drives me to remind you of a certain day when you entered our landscape-room. You made a fine figure of yourself! But from the very first day after our marriage you have sat with me only in the evening, and that only to read the paper. Just at first you showed some little regard for my wishes. But that's been over with for a long while now. You neglect me." "And you? You are ruining me." "I? I am ruining you?" "Yes, you are ruining me with your indolence, your ex-travagance, and love of luxury." "Oh, pray don't reproach me with my good upbringing! In my parents' house I never had to lift a finger. Now I have hard work to get accustomed to the housekeeping; but I have at least a right to demand that you do not refuse me the ordinary assistance. Father is a rich man; he would never dream that I could lack for service." "Then wait for this third servant until we get hold of some of those riches." "Oh, you are wishing for my Father's death. But I mean that we are well-to-do people in our own right. I did not come to you with empty hands." Herr Gr� smiled an embarrassed and dejected smile, although he was in the act of chewing his breakfast. He made no other reply, and his silence bewildered Tony. "Gr�," she said more quietly, "why do you smile and talk about our 'means'? Am I mistaken? Has business'been bad? Have you--?" Just then somebody drummed on the corridor door, and Herr Kesselmeyer walked in.