THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
selves to be shot for nothing. You yourself do not think that this insane revolt can succeed; in a few days the Prussians will chase your provisional government across the Rhine. Wherefore then this nonsense which may cost many people their lives?” With this he pulled the cork out of the bottle and filled two glasses. I had no time to consider whether, thirsty as I was, I should drink with my prisoner, when I heard the bell on the church steeple near by give a violent signal of alarm. This could be nothing else than a tocsin; it seemed that the peasants had somehow or other been informed of the danger threatening their priest, and as if this church bell summoned them to his protection. The priest seemed to understand the situation clearly; a sly smile flew across his face.
“How many men have you outside?” he asked.
“Enough,” I answered.
I opened the window and saw crowds of peasants hurrying on from all sides with flails and pitch-forks and bludgeons. My men were still standing in line on the street; some of them seemed to look around with anxiety at the villagers rushing upon the scene. I ordered the lieutenant to post my men with their backs against the house and to let nobody in; in case of an attack, he should defend the door to the utmost of his ability. I directed him to give the same orders to the men who watched the back door of the parsonage. The multitudes in front of the house grew larger and larger. Threatening exclamations were heard; evidently the situation was becoming complicated. Whether the handful of my volunteers could resist that big crowd of fanatic peasants appeared very questionable.
The priest still smiled. “My parishioners will defend me with their lives. It looks to me as if your armed force were in their power.”
Then a happy thought shot across my mind.
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