Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1884-08-27
THE STORY OF SEFCHEN

The story of "Sefchen," as Josepha,
the first girl he ever loved, was general
~ called, has been told before now in
the "reminiscences of Heinrich Heine"
(Berlin, 1869, but only the bare facts
are there given, whereas the poet him.
self in his memoirs, of which the con-
clusion was announced in the last num-
Der of the Gartenlaube, tells it with all
the mystic details which make his first
love affair appear as one of Germany's
richest fairy tales. Until Sefchen came
to live with her grandmother she had
been an outcast. Fourteen years she
had passed at the home of her grand
father, the hangman, who was the
pariah of the district. Besides the
grandfather and his servants, the child
knew nobody and grew up to be a
dreamy girl, who sometimes showed
signs of obstinacy which formed strik-
ing contrast to her sensitive, shrinking
nature.
The grim hangman taught her to read
old books, which were her sole compan-
ions. Now and then the men went
away for days and the child remained
behind at the Freyhaus, which stood in
the midst of a forest, with no other
neighbors than the bodies of the GRIMM
ais dangling from the gallows. To her
young lover Sefchen told the story of
her childhood, of the three old nodding
crones who were left in charge of the
house when the master went out, and
who spent their time in spinning,
L.
was especially in winter nights, when
the wind shook the old oaks outside and
curious groan came out of the large,
Pickering fire, that poor Sefchen felt
very frightened in the old house; she
feared the visit of thieves, not living
thieves, but the dead men from the
gallows, who had torn their letters an
knocked at the low windows, demand
ing admittance to get little warmth.
Their frozen grimaces were pititul to
behold. They could only be banished
by threatening them with an execution
ers sword. At the sight of that they
vanish as in whirlwind." There was
now and then feast day at the Frey
haus, and this was when the grandfath-
er prepared for great execution. On
such days his colleagues from the
neighborhood came on a visit; grand
preparations were made; they ate and
drank, but they spoke little, and they
never attempted song. Instead of the
Jug with wooden lid, which is special
" kept in public houses for the use of
the execut1oner and his men, they drank
out of silver jugs, forgetting that they
were a company of communicated
men, whom no girl outside their own
circle would ever marry. s
When Sefchen was eight years old
such festival was announced. On a
bright autumn day an unusual number
of guests arrived, mostly very old men
with snowy hair or bald heads; long
red cloaks hid the executioner's sword
and their old-fashioned apparel. They
were the oldest executioners, who had
come from long distance; they shook
hands increasingly, but spoke little ex-
cept in secret language of signs. At
ter dark the master sent all his servants
.out of the house, ordered three dozen
bottles of the best Rheinwein to be
placed on stone table standing under
a group of oaks, and torches to be light
ed around. Even the dog-kennel was
covered with a blanket. Sefchen was
told to bring the large silver Jug, orna-
mented with dolphins and sea gods,
then TO go at once to bed in her little
room. The latter command Sefchen
did not fulfill, bat stood, an Eve eight
years old, hidden behind the trees near
to where the torches burned. Soon the
old men came out of the house, walking
toward the table in a solemn process
sion. Sitting down in a half-circle,
they remained for long time immoya-
BILE, muttering something which the
child thought were prayers; then her
grandfather rose, poured wine into the
jug, and each old man in turn emptied
it, amid much shaking of hands. After
the jug had made the round the grand
father made a speech, of which Sefchen
heard little and understood less; but it
was a sad speech, for large tears dropped
from the eyes of the speaker, and
all hearers wept bitterly and sobbed
like children:
"The moon looked down with such
melancholy from out of her foggy veil
in the starless sky, that the heart of the
little listener was almost breaking with
pity. The grief of one little old man
touched her especially, for he cried
louder than the rest, and groaned SO
loud that she plainly understood some
of his words. He cried necessarily:
80 God, o God, the misfortune has
lasted so long that no human soul can
bear it any longer! Oh, Thou art un-
just, unjustp His companions had
great trouble in quoting him."
At last they all rose, threw their red
cloaks of, took their swords under their
arms, and, walking two and two to-