THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
the pillars and undermined the fundamental dogmas of the only true church.
Another event brought further shock. The schoolmaster who had succeeded my father had taken some liberties with one of the pupils, a relative of ours, and was called to account for it. He denied the accusations, and the community soon split into two parties: on the one side the schoolmaster defended by the parish priest, and supported by the count's family and a large part of the population; on the other our family and friends. The quarrel waxed very bitter, as is always the case with such village warfare, and led to violent disputes, once even to a bloody riot, which the one constable of the place was unable to suppress. “There is revolution in the village,” people said. This was the first time that I had heard this fateful word. The priest made himself especially conspicuous by repeating slanderous tales about members of our family. This went so far that even my mother, the gentlest of women, became greatly excited, and one day I overheard her tell the priest to his face that he was a wicked man and a reckless defamer of character—whereupon the clerical gentleman tamely slunk away. To my mind the priest, as the vicar of God and the mouthpiece of His word, had been a holy man. And now to hear my mother, the very embodiment of truthfulness and piety, tell the priest that he was wicked, could not but be to me a dangerous revelation. It tormented me greatly after this not to be able to listen to his Sunday sermons with unshaken faith, and it distressed me beyond measure when I stood near him as a choir-boy to see him perform the holy office of the mass. But my religious observances went on as before.
The unhappy conflict caused by the schoolmaster episode had unforeseen consequences. The schoolmaster indeed had
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