CHRISTIAN WOLF; OR, THE PROGRESS OF CRIME. (From the German of Schiller.) BY M. A. Y. game was plenty there: the owner could not require it all. Wolf became a poacher, and every farthing of his ill-gotten gains was devoted to purchase the favour of the scornful maiden. Now among Johanna's lovers was a certain Robert, gamekeeper to the forest, who was not long in noting the advantage obtained over him by his hitherto despised rival. He marked his generosity, and marvelled where the money came from; nor was his jealous watchfulness long in detecting the secret. With unwearied perseverance he tracked Wolf's every step, and at length succeeded in taking him in the very fact. The law against poaching was then very severe, and it was only by the sacrifice of the whole of his little property that Wolf was en There are no chapters throughout the whole history of man so interesting to a thinking mind, or so universally instructive, as the annals of his errors. To trace out the causes, some trifling, some important, which are productive too often of such fearful results, is a task which, if persevered in, might effectually tend to diminish crime, and consequently one well worthy of the attention of every philanthropist. Philosophers have studied every phenomenon relative to the eruptions of Vesuvius with the minutest care. Why has not as profound attention been bestowed on the outbreaks of sin and crime in the human being? Why should less study be devoted to a moral than to a physical appearance? How many might now be honest, useful members of society, had not their first error been so sternly viewed--had not the un-abled to get off. tempted, the wise in precept, the confident in their untried virtue pointed the finger of scorn at them, visited them with legal and moral punishment, outlawed them from the pale of society, and branded them with the mark of shame! Whether or not the unfortunate whose history I am about to relate might have been reclaimed by mildness, cannot now be proved: I do not claim my reader's clemency on his account, for it could not benefit him now: he perished on the scaffold; but a slight sketch of his life may not be uninteresting or uninstructive. Christian Wolf was the son of the landlord of a small inn at — and assisted his mother, a widow, in all the duties of the ménage until his twentieth year. There was but little business stirring, and Wolf had many idle hours. He was from his boyhood a wild creature, and by no means prepossessing in appearance. A slight, insignificant figure, dull black hair, a flat, broad nose, and projecting upper-lip, and deep-set eyes, constituted a tout ensemble which was by no means attractive to the softer sex, and rendered him a butt for the jokes of his own. But far from being discouraged by these deficiencies, he strove to compensate for them by endeavours to please. Among other fancies, Wolf fancied himself in love; but the maiden of his choice slighted him, and, he feared, to bestow her favours on another. But she was poor, and though his protestations and entreaties could not move her, gifts might. How were these to be obtained? The endeavour to adorn and improve his personal appearance swallowed up all his scanty earnings. Too ignorant to increase his store by speculations, too proud to labour, he saw but one means of attaining his object. The village was bounded by a noble wood: Robert triumphed; his rival was beaten out of the field, for Johanna was a girl of too much spirit to take up with a beggar. Wolf knew his enemy, knew also that he was his rival, and jealousy was added to the pangs of hunger and wounded pride. Necessity now made him what he had before been for love, and again Robert detected him and delivered him up to justice. He had no means of paying the fine, and consequently was committed to prison. Confinement and solitude, far from diminishing his passion for Johanna, served but to increase it; and the instant the term of his imprisonment expired, he flew to his native village; but there were none to welcome him; Johanna scrupled not to speak her scorn; his old companions shunned him, and his mother was no more. Dire poverty vanquished all pride, and he offered himself as day-labourer to all the farmers, but in vain: what was his character? They knew what it was, and would not give him the chance of seeing what, with a little kindness and encouragement, it might become. As a last resource, he besought the miserable post of village swineherd; but who would confide their pigs to the care of one so late the inmate of a jail? With wearied limbs he dragged himself from farm to farm, vainly soliciting permission to earn his bread honestly; and at length, driven by actual starvation, once more sinned against the gamelaws-was once more detected by Robert, and given up to justice. "Such inveterate delinquency could not be too severely punished;" so said the wise and worthy magistrate. He looked into the book of law, and overlooked the cir cumstances which induced the criminality. "So determined a poacher must be made an example of!" And Wolf was condemned to be branded on the back, and to hard labour for three years has few cares.' My thoughts and purposes in the fortress. This term of imprisonment also were all confusion. The only thing I can expired, and at lengh he was liberated, but came clearly recollect was a fierce desire to do evil. out quite a different being from what he was when The law had been the instrument of my dishe entered. A new epoch in his life had now grace; I had sinned against it from folly first, commenced; but we will cite his own words. and then from dire necessity; now I resolved "I entered the fortress comparatively inno-wilfully to outrage it in every way. Again I cent; I quitted it a hardened villain. When became a poacher, and destroyed every bit of first I was brought there, they confined me with game which I came across; what little I absothree-and-twenty prisoners, two of whom were lutely required to supply the wants of nature I murderers, and the others thieves, forgers, and took, but left the remainder to rot where it fell. vagabonds of every description. When I spoke For many months did I lead this wild, reckof God or religion, they mocked at me, or turned less course of life, shunning all intercourse with my words into blasphemies: they laughed at my fellow-creatures, save such as was absolutely my disgust, sang me lewd songs, told tales of necessary to enable me to procure food, powder, crime, swore, jeered, and rallied. At first I and shot. One morning I had been following shunned them as much as possible, and closed on the track of a deer for some hours, and had my ears to their voices; I lived alone, but gra- almost resolved to give up the pursuit, when a dually the desire, always inherent in human rustling among the bushes attracted my attennature for companionship, drew me towards one tion; I raised my gun to fire, but at that moor two. The next steps were rapid; disgust ment perceived a hat lying on the ground just softened into indifference, and that again gave before me: advancing to it, I beheld Robertplace to imitation, and gradually I became as my enemy-lying asleep beneath the shadow of bad, as debased in mind and manners, as any a large tree, and in the very spot at which I had there; nay, latterly I surpassed them all. I been about to fire. A cold chill passed longed for the day which should restore me to over me, as I gazed on this detested being, freedom; I thirsted for revenge; I hated man- thus given, as it were into my power. kind, for all were better, happier than I. I My arm trembled, my teeth chattered, my regarded myself as a martyr, as a victim, and breath came gaspingly. The deer I had folvowed undying, implacable hatred to all my lowed so long appeared in sight, my gun species, and fully did I keep that vow. hesitated between the two objects; for a moMy first thoughts on recovering my liberty ment I felt uncertain, then came a dark spasm of flew to the spot where had once been my happy fury and revenge, the powers of good and evil home-to the spot where dwelt my enemy. struggled for mastery; another moment was How wildly did my heart beat as I drew near | past-another-revenge was victorious, and the village, and beheld the spire of the villagechurch rising above the wood! but it was not with that desire to behold all I had loved, to retrieve my character, which had animated me on my former return. No; it was a fierce longing for vengeance on the heads of those who had made me what I was. The bells were ringing for evening service as I reached the marketplace, and the people were thronging to church. They gazed on me, they recognized me, and they shunned me! I had always loved children, and 66 won by the appearance of a boy who was playing about, I offered him a groschen. The little fellow ceased from his sports, and, after looking earnestly at me for a moment, flung the coin in my face. Had I been calmer, I might have recollected that my ragged appearance, uncombed hair, and long beard were sufficient to account for the child's action; but in the tumult of my feelings I attributed it to my being a returned felon, and bitter tears forced themselves into my eyes. That boy knew me not, yet he shunned and spurned me: was the brand of shame, then, visible to every eye? was I a marked man, an outcast from my species? This little incident moved me more than all my former punishment; but the time had passed when its effect could be salutary, it did but move me to greater fury. All shun me,' I muttered: they shall have cause to do so. They have taken everything from me which makes life valuable: he who has nothing to lose Robert lay a lifeless corpse. The crack of the shot startled me. Murderer!' I exclaimed, and the silent forest re-echoed Murderer!' Speechless and motionless, I stood by the dead man, and at length burst into an involuntary fit of wild laughter-You will not give evidence against me any more, good friend,' I cried, turning the face of the corpse upwards. The eyes were wide open, and seemed to fix themselves on me with a cold, stony gaze. A sudden revulsion of feeling came over me; until then I had sinned in very recklessness; now, now, oh God! But one short hour before, and I had regarded myself as one of the most degraded of human beings, now I felt that my former self was an enviable being compared with the present. Wild thoughts came rushing through my brain-Thou shalt do no murder;' was echoed and re-echoed in my ears by voices loud as thunder, and every horrid detail of an execution which I had witnessed in my childhood stood forth before my mind's eye with all the vividness of reality. Vainly did I try to recall all the injuries I had received from my victim, all the causes I had had to hate him; the memory of it was blotted out, blotted out with blood! and all seemed a horrid dream. "The crack of a whip awoke me once more to a consciousness of outward things, and, turning, I fled into the wood. I was pennyless, and the thought crossed me that Robert had formerly possessed a watch; it could be of no use to the dead, and yet I had not courage to return to that fatal spot. Some thoughts of the all-seeing eye of Heaven, and of the devil, crossed my bewildered mind, but were chased away by the recollection that I had nothing to lose, all to gain, and I returned. The watch was there, and also a purse, containing a small sum. Already had I seized both, when suddenly I paused, it was not shame, it was no fear of increasing my crime by adding robbery to murder, which stayed my hand, but pride. I flung the watch from me, and took but a portion of the money; I would not be thought to have murdered him for gain: no, it was vengeance, and such it should appear. "Once more I fled, nor paused for hours in my rapid course. At first the rapidity of my motions banished thought, but gradually, as my breath came heavily, and my limbs refused to bear their burden further, all the past returned, and I lived each minute detail over again. Thousands of horrible images flitted across my brain, and agonized my mind. Was it always to be thus were these haunting visions to be ever before me? If so, what a penance would it be to live; and yet I had not the courage to commit suicide, an undefined fear of eternity withheld me. I feared to die, I dreaded life. Ah! those awful hours crowded with mental tortures! words cannot give the faintest notion of their wretchedness. Slowly, feebly, and almost unconsciously, with folded arms, and my hat pressed down over my brows, I was pacing along a narrow thicket path, when suddenly a rough, sonorous voice shouted 'Halt!' and, raising my eyes, I found myself confronted by a fierce, wild-looking man, bearing on his shoulder a huge knotted club; his skin was dingy as that of a Mulatto, his form giant-like, his eyes gleamed out like live coals from beneath his shaggy brow. Instead of a girdle, a cord was twisted two or three times round his waist, and sustained a large knife and a horse-pistol. He repeated his summons, seizing me, at the same time, by the arm; at first the voice of a human being had terrified my guilty soul, but the sight of this evident outlaw reassured me; for in my present situation, it was honest men, and not thieves or vagabonds, I had cause to dread. passed my lips that day; the fear of fainting with hunger had more than once crossed my mind; how eagerly, therefore, did I grasp the proffered refreshment, how greedily place it to my parched lips! New life seemed infused into my body, new courage into my soul, by this drink; I felt less miserable, less wretched, and, as I looked on my companion, less alone. He had thrown himself on the ground, and I followed his example; after the exchange of a few words, he said— And your name?' "Christian Wolf.' ""Wolf!' he exclaimed. Wolf, the poacher! welcome, comrade, most welcome! I have sought you long, your fame is well known to me; I have reckoned on you this many a day.' "On me?' "Yes, on you. You have been wronged, oppressed, imprisoned, branded, your property confiscated, your good name blighted; and for what? because you shot a few hares, or a deer or wild boar. Brother, is not man worth more than a hare? But, tell me, what brought you here?' "I related my history to him, and almost before it was ended he had sprung up, and drawn me impatiently with him, ejaculatingCome with me; question not, but follow quickly!' He drew me rapidly along, it might be for about a quarter of a mile, and at each step the forest became thicker and more intricate; I followed almost mechanically, until suddenly his shrill whistle startled me into observation. We stood on the edge of an abrupt chasm: A second whistle, proceeding from the very bowels of the earth, replied to him, and a ladder arose slowly up. My guide descended it, and bade me await him there- I must tie up the dogs,' he said, or else, you being a stranger, they will tear you in pieces.' I stood alone; how easy would escape have been! I had but to draw up the ladder, and pursuit would have been impossible. I gazed into the deep chasm, and thought of the depths of hell, from which there is no return. I resolved to fly while yet it was in my power, and had already stretched out my hand to grasp the ladder, when these words were thundered in my ears-What worse can you become, Murderer!' The time for repentance was past, the blood I had shed floated like a sea before my eyes, and cut off all hopes of retreat, and I descended. As we approached the bottom, a spacious cave became visible, in which eighteen or twenty men lay stretched around a coal fire, and several women. Welcome, Wolf!' they exclaimed, thronging round me, and the welcome sounded hearty and sincere, and was accompanied by something of respect. One grasped my hand, another caught hold of my dress, and all appeared to receive me as an old and valued friend. The feast which my arrival 66 6 Will you join us? Will you become our leader? We will all receive you as such; is it not so, comrades?' "A reply in the affirmative burst from every lip. My brain reeled, my pulses throbbed, my heart beat high; the world had scorned and cast me off, but these people received me with honour; 'tis true they were rogues and thieves, perchance even worse, but what was I? If I declined their offer and quitted them, I must starve, and was certain of being hanged; if I joined them, I might still come to the scaffold eventually, but in the interim enjoyment and plenty would be mine. My choice was made. "I accept your offer, comrades, and remain with you,' I exclaimed, so that Marie is mine;' and I pointed to one of my fair neighbours. All agreed, and I was solemnly proclaimed captain, and sole master of the person and affections of Marie." Here let me glide silently over the history of Christian Wolf, while he was bandit chief; the details are horrible, without being instructive, and he was guilty of every atrocity save murder. "No, no," he cried, when tortured to induce confession, "my hands were imbued in human blood but once!" His fame spread throughout all the adjoining country-men feared to travel without a strong escort, the peasantry trembled at the name of Wolf, the citizens barricaded each door and window, and even the nobility did not feel quite secure in their castles. A price was set on his head, and troops despatched in every direction to take him dead or alive. But fortune appeared to befriend him; he escaped or frustrated every snare laid to entrap him, and availed himself of the superstitious fears thus raised in the minds of the peasantry, who believed that he had entered into a compact with the devil, who protected and assisted him. A year fled by thus, and was Wolf happy? No! The victorious, celebrated bandit captain, the hero of romances, the performer of prodigies, often suffered from hunger, cold, and want of every common necessity; he saw himself surrounded by envy, hatred, malice, rebellion, and treachery. Government had promised a free pardon to any one of his associates who would betray him, and he read in the side-long glance, the whispered threat, or open taunt, how little dependance was to be placed on the "fidelity to death" they had sworn to him. Remorse was gnawing at his heart, conscience slept not, but goaded him to madness with its stings; again he awoke to a sense of what he was, and wished that the bitter tears which forced themselves from his eyes could blot out the past; nay, gladly would he have shed his heart's best blood to do so. Suddenly a gleam of hope dawned amid the darkness-was it not possible to atone for the past, to live a new life, to become a new being? The seven years' war was at this period just broken out, and levies of troops were being raised in every district; on this the unfortunate Wolf founded his hopes, and wrote the following letter to the lord of the manor, under whom he had once lived :— "If your princely Highness will condescend to look down on one so lost, if a criminal, such as he is who now dares to address you, is not beyond all reach of mercy, grant me your attention, my gracious Lord. I am a murderer and a thief-the laws condemn me to death—justice pursues my steps. I will deliver myself up if you will grant my prayer. I hate life, and do not fear death; but it is hard to die without having lived. I would fain live to atone, in some measure, for the past-to reconcile myself to outraged justice. If I perish on the scaffold, it will be an example to the world; but not an atonement for the evil I have done. I hate crime, and long-so fervently—to become better. I have shown that I have courage; that I can make myself feared by my country let me have an opportunity of making that courage of service to it. Full well do I know that what I ask is strange; that I have no right to attempt to enter into any treaty with justice: but as yet I am free, and I will not voluntarily appear before you, to be bound in chains. I implore for grace; I have no claims to urge, but one thing I would have borne in remembrance, that my crimes were preceded by my punishment; that until the law branded me a felon, my offences had been merely venial. Had more mercy been shown, then I had not now, perhaps, had so much need to plead for it. Most noble Prince, if it is in your power to gain my pardon, I implore you, do it! The life you bestow on me shall be devoted to the service of my country. May I entreat that you will be pleased to make known your reply to my petition through the medium of the public prints. If I am pardoned, I will instantly appear in the capital; if not-then justice must do her part, and I will do mine." To this no answer was vouchsafed. Again he wrote, and with as little success. Hopeless of obtaining pardon, he resolved to fly the country, and enlist in the army of the king of Prussia; and escaping from his followers, he set off on his journey. The unsettled state of the times rendered watchful vigilance absolutely necessary, and every traveller was obliged to produce a passport and undergo the strictest scrutiny. It was evening when Wolf arrived at the gates of a small town, and the door-keeper eyeing the strange-looking figure of the stranger, refused him ingress until he had shown his pass. Wolf had foreseen this demand, and provided himself with one which he had stolen long before from a merchant; but the cunning official was too experienced to be thus imposed upon. Full well he knew that the haggard, pale, ill-clad being before him, mounted on a skeleton of a horse, could not by any possibility be the rich Herr von and accordingly he bade the stranger follow him to the Amt-house, where he went to take counsel with his superior officer. This person found the passport to be every way correct, and consequently decided that they had no right to detain the bearer of it; but being fond of gossip and news, he desired exceedingly to have a chat with one who appeared, from it, to have come from the very theatre of action at that time; and accordingly dispatched his own secretary, to return the pass and invite the stranger to take a glass of wine with him. Meanwhile, a crowd of idlers had assembled to gaze on the détenu, and laugh and jeer at his strange appearance. Wolf, whose conscience was ever awake, fancied that they recognised the horse, which was a stolen one, or some portion of his attire, all of which had been obtained at different times in the same honourable way; and when the secretary came with the polite invitation of his master, he regarded this as a snare to get him quietly into their power; conscience made a coward of him; and, putting spurs to his horse, he set off at full gallop. Off flew the whole crowd of idlers after him; some following up the chase for fun, others from a love of mischief, and others from suspicion. The fugitive rode for dear life, and had already distanced all his pursuers, when he discovered that the street down which he had turned was no thoroughfare; and he paused in despair, and stood fiercely at bay, pointing a pistol at those who approached him. Fortune had evidently deserted him, for a sly fellow crawled along the ground, and coming behind him, mastered his arms and dragged him down. The shouting and excited populace quickly escorted him back to the Amt-house. "Who and what are you?" demanded the magistrate. "A man who has resolved to answer no questions but such as are civilly put," was the reply. A few more similar answers, and the magistrate committed him to prison; but, reflecting in the course of the night that the prisoner might be the person he gave himself out for, and that the rudeness of his replies might have been occasioned by the rough manner in which he had been questioned, he caused him again to be brought before him on the following morning. Wolf, too, had not been without his reflections; and these led him to resolve on confiding to the magistrate who he really was, and beseeching him to procure for him pardon, and permission to end his life usefully and honestly. This resolve he carried out: what success attended him may be gathered from his fate. Christian Wolf perished on the scaffold! THE WOODMAN'S CHILD. BY MRS. F. B. SCOTT. When the streaks of early morning You may hear a voice of laughter See, her tangled curls are shaken Musing by the fairy fountain, Forth at noon, with voice so merry, From the smoke-wreathed hut, Gathers she the scarlet berry And the wild wood-nut: Or, with fragile, sun-burnt fingers Lifting flowers up, Whilst the summer dew-drop lingers In each mossy cup. How the sunbeam's ardent wooing Home returning, when the even As the oak-tree, when enlacing Round about the father stealing On her joyous brow; Every leaf of that fair blossom Lies in slumber curl'd; Every page in that young bosom Shelter'd from the world: Heaven keep her spirit's beauty Pure and undefiled; Heaven bless the filial duty Of the Woodman's Child. |