A Tale of the Kloster Part 5

While he was gone, my brethren and I made search in the forest about us for such timber as we could make into a litter and when the deputy returned, scornfully handing me the hatchet and some strong cord, we cut down a number of saplings suitable to the constable's weight, and with these formed a sort of litter on which he could sit or lie, as it might please him, while the rest of us carried him along. He was much loth to trust himself to what he considered a frail support for his mighty frame, but after showing him it was strong enough to hold him, he finally stretched his length thereon, sending the deputy back with the hatchet, while we waited his return.

But the constable still doubting, growled, but more softly, I thought, "Now what good is all this litter; who shall carry me? My deputies, who are themselves tired, cannot carry me all these miles to Lancaster."

"Nay," replied I, "but we six Brethren are young and strong and we will take hold of the poles and carry thee as far as we are able, after which thy deputies may relieve us until we regain our breath and strength when we shall again take thee on."

He sat up and said slowly and still doubtfully: "Do ye mean to say ye will do this for me?"

"That we will cheerfully," we all a.s.sured him; "though thou hast not treated us over kindly it is not in our minds to remember what thou hast said and done."

"You are not up to some trick?"

"Thou hast good reason to believe we be men of our word," I replied somewhat stiffly; "my brethren are not given to trickery."

The deputy having now returned, my brethren and I took the first turn and hoisting to our shoulders the long poles extending beyond the framework on which our constable sat in royal state, we trudged along quietly but cheerfully, even though our burden was not a light one, our neighbors, the deputies, under the direction of the still distrustful constable, attending to it that we departed not from our proper course, which none of us had the slightest intention of doing. Yet I must record that the human heart, as the Holy Book sayeth in its omniscient wisdom, is a deceitful thing, even in the best of us; for we had not gone far with our rude conveyance when we came to a most foul and dirty pool directly in our way. Brother Martin, being so small and slight and by reason thereof in great danger of destroying the evenness of the litter--which of course would not have been well for the choleric temper of the constable--was placed at my corner, in front of me, so borrowing from my height and strength that the litter would carry more evenly, and also our beloved little tailor be not overly taxed by the burden.

But surely the Evil One doth ever find an easy entrance to idle minds, wherefore we of the Kloster always made it our rule to be busy as far as in us lay. Now in our anxiety to save our Brother Martin from undue labor, we had made the mistake of leaving too little on his shoulders, wherefore instead of having his mind on pious things, he was bent upon evil toward the constable; for it grieves me to say that as we came to this filthy pool and were about to step over it, Brother Martin turned his head about and gave me a sly look and made a motion of his body as of dropping our end of the lifter, which foul deed, had we done it at this juncture would most surely have dropped the majesty of the law into this slimy pool. In truth, so powerful is the mere suggestion of evil to our weak, sinful natures that ere I fully thought what I was about, I had responded by bobbing down a trifle, but recalling myself in due time, straightened up sternly, giving Brother Martin such a withering glance as made him faithful for the rest of the journey, if not for the remainder of his days.

Fortunately, our constable never knew how near he was to a ducking, and as we stepped carefully over the pool--at which he looked with some apprehension--and proceeded thoughtfully on our way, very seldom relieved by the deputies--for whom the farther we had come the more the heat of their persecuting zeal had abated--I could see a.s.surance in the constable's features that we were rising higher and higher in his regard.

CHAPTER VII

THE RIGHT PREVAILS

The Lord trieth the righteous; but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

--Bible.

In brief, we traveled in this way until we reached the City of Lancaster, which to us seemed all bustle and confusion. The constable, as became his dignity, alighted from his litter and took the lead, with his deputies following, and we after the deputies, in single file, creating great excitement, especially as it was conjectured by some that we were Papists--this by reason of our monkish cowls and long cloaks and abstracted air. Others of the idlers whom we pa.s.sed jeered us and spat on us as being spies--of what, I am certain I never could learn--and that we were to be hanged as traitors.

As no one had known of our coming, the idlers and the busybodies were unprepared to give us such greeting as they no doubt would have relished, and we were led without any great difficulty to the court-house where, upon refusal to pay the taxes and in default of bail, we were committed to prison. Here we were held in a cold, bare room which we minded not; for our jailor permitted us to occupy it together, which gave us great joy, and we complained neither at the confinement nor the coa.r.s.e food, but the rather spent our time in praising G.o.d and most of all praying for our persecutors, all of us being unshaken in the hope that deliverance would come from above and that in due time our prison door would be opened unto us.

At last--and in this I believe our constable had a grateful part--when Tobias Hendricks (whose name I write here that his good deed may shine far out into the world), a venerable old man and himself a justice of the peace, came forth and offered bail for us, though knowing none of us except by rumor and repute, taking our bare word for our appearance in court when wanted, we were released from our captivity, and quietly and undisturbed we started out for our beloved Kloster, and upon the twelfth day of our departure with the constable and his eager deputies, we six Brethren once more filed into our little camp on the Cocalico, where we were greeted with all the love and affection that the sobriety of our lives permitted.

Not many weeks thereafter, the May Court convened in Lancaster and we six Brethren, agreeable to our promise, put in our appearance before the commissioners and a.s.sessors of taxes who, when they saw before them these six gentle Brethren, in the bloom of youth, who had raised such a warfare against the world, the fear of the Lord came upon our judges so that they did not speak to us otherwise than friendly and offered us every favor.

The first question put to us was, "Will ye be lawful subjects of the king?" To which we replied--but in all respect--that as we had already pledged allegiance to another King we could therefore obey the earthly king only so far as his rights accorded with those of our eternal King.

To this our judges did not demur but asked another question, namely, whether we would pay the taxes? To which we replied respectfully as before, but firmly, not the head tax, because we acknowledged no worldly authority's right over our bodies, since they had been redeemed from men and the world. Moreover, we considered it unjust that, as we were pledged to spend our lives in our present condition, one of great benefit to the country about us, we should be measured by the same standard as vagabonds and be made to pay the same tax as they; that we desired not to be considered disobedient, because it was our rule to live peaceably with all men so far as within us lay, for thus we were enjoined by the Scriptures; but that if the judges would consider us a spiritual family we would be willing to pay of our earthly possessions according to what was just.

All this was granted us and remains unchanged to the present day; for the fear of G.o.d came upon the gentlemen who were our judges when they saw before them men who in the prime of their ages, by penitential works had been reduced in flesh, so that our judges used great moderation and granted us our personal freedom under condition that we should be taxed as one family for our real estate, the judges even asking us how much tax in our judgment would be just and fair--in short, for us to a.s.sess our own rate.

This we refused to do, but finally, after much persuasion, we suggested to the judges that a tax of forty shillings against our settlement as a whole would be fair. This proving satisfactory to the board of judges, we were discharged, and with exceeding grat.i.tude to these gentlemen for their benevolent treatment of us, which was so different from the persecutions we often endured from our neighbors, who were so often bounden to us for our charity, we set out with light hearts and winged feet on our long tramp through forest and field for the Kloster.

It was late in the day and darkness had already come upon us when we left the city of Lancaster, but our joy made the journey seem short and by midnight we arrived in the settlement just as the night watch was in full session.

In all my long life I have never forgotten and shall never forget how we appeared to our Brethren that night as we came to the narrow doorway leading into the _Saal_, I being in the lead. We could hear the fervent prayers that were being offered for our release and for a moment while the Brethren within were kneeling all unconscious of our nearness, I held up my hand and beckoned the Brethren behind me to wait a moment while we stood there silently gazing upon the bowed forms of the worshipers.

I have myself attended more than one of our midnight funerals of some dear Brother or Sister, and though wonderfully impressive and touching to one's heart, even they never touched me more deeply than this impressive sight before us. As we peered into the large _Saal_, with the upper galleries shadowed in darkness, the only light the flickering tallow candles in front of each of our devout Brethren, we saw the dark, mysterious shadows in the corners of the _Saal_ with ourselves standing in such a gloom we were not perceived. But for a few moments we stood thus with a great peace filling our hearts, when suddenly we walked quietly in, the prayer still in progress, and with heads bowed and hands crossed upon our b.r.e.a.s.t.s like the penitents of the olden days ranged ourselves in front of the platform whereon stood our beloved brother and leader, Conrad Beissel, erect, austere; and so far as we could judge from his immovable features, wholly undisturbed by our unexpected arrival, though well we knew that this seeming indifference was but one of discipline and self-control and that the heart within the st.u.r.dy frame was beating warmly for each and every one of us.

The invocation in our behalf being ended there was for a few moments as we stood before our leader a silence so profound as to be almost painful. Then suddenly the powerful voice of Brother Weiser rang throughout the hall in that magnificent, soul-stirring war-hymn of the _Vaterland_ and the Reformation, a hymn as strong and rugged as the mighty warrior who wrote it, "_Eine Feste Burg ist Unser Gott_."

The first line had not yet been completed when it was taken up by all present until the strains of the full-voiced battle cry sounded and resounded throughout the hall. For the time our Brethren had forgotten all the repressing influences of our Kloster life and poured forth their flood of praise and thanksgiving from their very hearts; for such singing had never before shaken the walls of the _Saal_.

After the hymn was ended thanks were duly offered and the night watch closed with a powerful address by Brother Beissel on the power of the beast upon earth, and while I feel not at this late day like stating aught that might savor of malice or revenge, I find in looking over our old records this note made with reference to our recent experience, namely, "Upon those neighbors, however, who had gloated over the misfortunes of the Brethren there fell the terror of the Lord so that they hurriedly left these regions"; and thus the beast received his reward.

After the services were over and the Brethren were wending their ways toward their _Kammers_ for their much-needed rest I asked our superintendent about Sonnlein; for though I had said naught of him during these occurrences, yet he was in my heart and in my anxiety most of the time. I can still see and hear our leader, almost shocking me by laughing, a thing he was most rarely guilty of, as he said, "Thy Sonnlein is safe enough in thy _Kammer_, but I a.s.sure thee not only did I pray and hope for thy deliverance for thine own sake and the sake of our Kloster, but I do confess in all love for thee and thy boy that hadst thou not soon returned to take care of him I had either been compelled to give up my life here or give up thy boy."

I fear I did not even take time to thank him, but hastened to my cell where I found my boy soundly sleeping.

It was no doubt thoughtless for me to waken him, but I could not help it, and when he did awake to throw his arms about my neck and hold me tight, I felt that, perhaps, it was no great sin after all to rouse him from his sleep. After very many questions as to where I had been and why the bad men had taken me, and all such questions as only an eager, trusting child can ask, I finally told him it was time to go to sleep, which he did without any great difficulty.

As he lay there sleeping in all the sweet innocence of childhood and health, I looked first at him and then out through the little window at the perfect beauty of G.o.d's handiwork in his heavens, and then I went to my rest, proud to be a son of him who created me in his image and who had put me into a world which, though full of dark and evil deeds, yet held in it, if we only looked aright, so much of beauty and joy and peace and love.

CHAPTER VIII

OUR FIRST LOSS

Let nothing make thee sad or fretful, Or too regretful; Be still; What G.o.d hath ordered must be right, Then find in it thine own delight, My will.

--Paul Fleming.

The year 1738 is deeply graven on my memory, because it marked the first death among the Solitary, our Brother Martin Bramer. Secondly, because his death followed so swift upon the appearance of that strange being, woman, witch, or devil, who, time and again, thrust herself so violently into our lives.

In the first month of the new year, and on a day when the sun was shining clear and bright, there being no snow on the ground, I was on my way to the Brother woods for an armful of firewood for the hall. Close upon where the Brother woods merged into the Sister woods stood a mighty oak within a little clearing on the Brothers' side, a favorite haunt of the Solitary for their rare moments of rest from their daily work.

I had about reached the clearing under the shelter of the wide-reaching arms of the old oak when suddenly, for I was in my customary fashion of deep meditation with mine eyes toward the ground, I walked into Brother Martin, almost overthrowing him, for that our tailor was so small and slight. However, we gravely saluted each other as though naught had happened; for each knew it had been a mere accident, and were about to pa.s.s on when I caught sight of his face, and saw from his more than usual pallid features and the twitching lips that he was suffering from some great shock. Never of robust health he had not been well lately, and I thought he was suffering more than usual from his infirmity.

I hailed him with brotherly solicitude, "Thou art not well, Brother Martin! I fear the Solitary press upon thee too sorely for thy keeping of them clad as becomes their orders."

"Nay, nay, Brother Jabez," he replied gently; but I could hear the trembling and the fear in his voice, "It is not my labors, which though toilsome, lie pleasantly on me, because I love my work, and those for whom I labor and strive to please seem to love me for what I do for them"; and indeed this was true, for his gentle, unaffected devotion to us and Him we served made our Brother Martin universally loved.

"But surely," I insisted, "thou'rt not well; thou'rt disturbed and suffering, that I see plainly. I beseech thee tell me what so sorely weighs on thee."

He looked up at me, his pale, bloodless lips quivering, and whispered into mine ear, clutching mine arm and leaning on it as though he needed my protection, "I have seen the Evil One in woman's form," and then he gasped, "I shall surely die."

"Nay, nay, my brother," I replied, as though laughing at his foolish fears, "'tis true the Evil One comes to us at times in woman's form to lure us, as Solomon sayeth, 'to the gates of h.e.l.l'; but when the fiend comes as such it is not in horrid, repulsive shape, but like those beautiful beings who came to Saint Anthony with such artful, seductive enchantments that none but saint could say them nay. Surely if this Evil One hath appeared to thee thou needst not look for thy immediate dissolution, but mayst expect some grace from the fair devourer."

But my poor brother would not be comforted, and merely stood shaking his head, saying mournfully, "This was no beautiful enchantress; no seductive siren, as thou sayest; 'twas the foul fiend in his foulest, most awful form, long, tangled hair falling every way over a face through which there gleamed eyes on fire with the hatred of h.e.l.l. I saw the eternal enmity of the Evil One in those piercing eyes."

"Where was all this, Brother Martin?" for I saw he could not be laughed out of his terror.