Growth of the Soil - Knut Hamsun
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"The man--h'm, he doesn't seem to come out of it so well," said
the advocate. "Goes off and buries the body all by himself in the
wood--looks bad, very bad."
"He wanted to have it buried properly, I suppose," said Geissler. "It
hadn't been really buried at all at first."
"Well, of course a woman hadn't the strength of a man to go digging.
And in her state--she must have been done up already. Altogether,"
said the advocate, "I think we've come to take a more humane view of
these infanticide cases generally, of late. If I were to judge, I
should never venture to condemn the girl at all; and from what has
appeared in this case, I shall not venture to demand a conviction."
"Very pleased to hear it," said Geissler, with a bow.
The advocate went on: "As a man, as a private person, I will even go
further, and say: I would never condemn a single unmarried mother for
killing her child."
"Most interesting," said Geissler, "to find the advocate for the Crown
so entirely in agreement with what Fru Heyerdahl said before the
court."
"Oh, Fru Heyerdahl!... Still, to my mind, there was a great deal in
what she said. After all, what is the good of all these convictions?
Unmarried mothers have suffered enough beforehand, and been brought so
low in every human regard by the brutal and callous attitude of the
world--the punishment ought to suffice."
Geissler rose, and said at last: "No doubt. But what about the
children?"
"True," said the advocate, "it's a sad business about the children.
Still, all things considered, perhaps it's just as well. Illegitimate
children have a hard time, and turn out badly as often as not."
Geissler felt perhaps some touch of malice at the portly complacency
of the man of law; he said:
"Erasmus was born out of wedlock."
"Erasmus ...?"
"Erasmus of Rotterdam."
"H'm."
"And Leonardo the same."
"Leonardo da Vinci? Really? Well, of course, there are exceptions,
otherwise there would be no rule. But on the whole...."
"We pass protective measures for beast and bird," said Geissler;
"seems rather strange, doesn't it, not to trouble about our own
young?"
The advocate for the Crown reached out slowly and with dignity after
some papers on the table, as a hint that he had not time to continue
the discussion. "Yes...." said he absently. "Yes, yes, no doubt...."
Geissler expressed his thanks for a most instructive conversation, and
took his leave.
He sat down in the court-house again, to be there in good time. He
was not ill-pleased, maybe, to feel his power; he had knowledge of a
certain piece of wrapping, a man's shirt cut across, to carry--let us
say twigs for a broom; of the body of a child floating in the harbour
at Bergen--ay, he could make matters awkward for the court if he
chose; a word from him would be as effective as a thousand swords. But
Geissler had doubtless no intention of uttering that word now unless
it were needed. Things were going splendidly without; even the
advocate for the Crown had declared himself on the side of the
accused.
The room fills, and the court is sitting again.
An interesting comedy to watch in a little town. The warning gravity
of the advocate for the Crown, the emotional eloquence of the advocate
for the defence. The court sat listening to what appeared to be its
duty in regard to the case of a girl named Barbro, and the death of
her child.
For all that, it was no light matter after all to decide. The advocate
for the Crown was a presentable man to look at, and doubtless also a
man of heart, but something appeared to have annoyed him recently or
possibly he had suddenly remembered that he held a certain office
in the State and was bound to act from that point of view. An
incomprehensible thing, but he was plainly less disposed to be lenient
now than he had been during the morning; if the crime had been
committed, he said, it was a serious matter, and things would look
black indeed if they could with certainty be declared so black as
would appear from the testimony of the witnesses already heard. That
was a matter for the court to decide. He wished to draw attention to
three points: firstly, whether they had before them a concealment of
birth; whether this was clear to the court. He made some personal
remarks on this head. The second point was the wrapping, the piece of
a shirt--why had the accused taken this with her? Was it in order to
make use of it for a certain purpose preconceived? He developed this
suggestion further. His third point was the hurried and suspicious
burial, without any notification of the death to either priest or
Lensmand. Here, the man was the person chiefly responsible, and it
was of the utmost importance that the court should come to the right
conclusion in that respect. For it was obvious that if the man were an
accomplice, and had therefore undertaken the burial himself, then
his servant-girl must have committed a crime before he could be an
accomplice in it.
"H'm," from some one in court.
Axel Stroem felt himself again in danger. He looked up without meeting
a single glance; all eyes were fixed on the advocate speaking. But far
down in the court sat Geissler again, looking highly supercilious, as
if bursting with his own superiority, his under-lip thrust forward,
his face turned towards the ceiling. This enormous indifference to the
solemnity of the court, and that "H'm," uttered loudly and without
concealment, cheered Axel mightily; he felt himself no longer alone
against the world.
And now things took a turn again for the better. This advocate for the
Crown seemed at last to think he had done enough, had achieved all
that was possible in the way of directing suspicion and ill-feeling
towards the man; and now he stopped. He did more; he almost, as it
were, faced round, and made no demand for a conviction. He ended by
saying, in so many words, that after the testimony of the witnesses in
the case, he on his part did not call upon the court to convict the
accused.
This was well enough, thought Axel--the business was practically over.
Then came the turn of the advocate for the defence, a young man
who had studied the law, and had now been entrusted with this most
satisfactory case. His tone itself showed the view he took of it;
never had a man been more certain of defending an innocent person than
he. Truth to tell, this Fru Heyerdahl had taken the wind out of his
sails beforehand, and used several of his own intended arguments that
morning; he was annoyed at her having already exploited the "society"
theme--oh, but he could have said some first-rate things about society
himself. He was incensed at the mistaken leniency of the presiding
justice in not stopping her speech; it was a defence in itself, a
brief prepared beforehand--and what was there left for him?
He began at the beginning of the life-story of the girl Barbro. Her
people were not well off, albeit industrious and respectable; she had
gone out to service at an early age, first of all to the Lensmand's.
The court had heard that morning what her mistress, Fru Heyerdahl,
thought of her--no one could wish for a finer recommendation. Barbro
had then gone to Bergen. Here the advocate laid great stress on a most
feelingly written testimonial from two young business men in whose
employ Barbro had been while at Bergen--evidently in a position of
trust. Barbro had come back to act as housekeeper for this unmarried
man in an outlying district. And here her trouble began.
She found herself with child by this man. The learned counsel for the
prosecution had already referred--in the most delicate and considerate
manner, be it said--to the question of concealment of birth. Had
Barbro attempted to conceal her condition; had she denied being with
child? The two witnesses, girls from her own village, had been of
opinion that she was in that condition; but when they had asked her,
she had not denied it at all, she had merely passed the matter off.
What would a young girl naturally do in such a case but pass it off?
No one else had asked her about it at all. Go to her mistress and
confess? She had no mistress; she was mistress on the place herself.
She had a master, certainly, but a girl could not be expected to
confide in a man upon such a matter; she bears her cross herself; does
not sing, does not whisper, but is silent as a Trappist. Concealment?
No, but she kept herself to herself.
The child is born--a sound and healthy boy; had lived and breathed
after birth, but had been suffocated. The court had been made aware
of the circumstances attending this birth: it had taken place in the
water; the mother falls into the stream, and the child is born, but
she is incapable of saving the child. She lies there, unable even to
rise herself till some time after. No marks of violence were to be
seen upon the body; there was nothing to indicate that it had been
intentionally killed; it had been drowned by misadventure at birth,
that was all. The most natural explanation in the world.
His learned colleague had made some mention of a cloth or wrapping,
considering it something of a mystery why she should have taken half a
shirt with her that day. The mystery was clear enough; she had taken
the shirt to carry stripped juniper in. She might have taken--let us
say, a pillow-case; as it was, she had taken this piece of a. shirt.
Something she must have, in any case; she could not carry the stuff
back in her hands. No, there was surely no ground for making a mystery
of this.
One point, however, was not quite so clear: had the accused been
treated with the care and consideration which her condition at the
time demanded? Had her master dealt kindly with her? It would be
as well for him if it were found so. The girl herself had, under
cross-examination, referred to the man in satisfactory terms; and this
again was evidence in itself of her own nobility of character.
The man, on his part, Axel Stroem, had likewise in his depositions
refrained from any attempt to add to the burden of the girl, or to
blame her in any way. In this he had acted rightly--not to say wisely,
seeing that his own case depended very largely upon how matters went
with her. By laying the blame on her he would, if she were convicted,
bring about his own downfall.
It was impossible to consider the documents and depositions in the
present case without feeling the deepest sympathy for this young girl
in her forsaken situation. And yet there was no need to appeal to
mercy on her behalf, only to justice and human understanding. She and
her master were in a way betrothed, but a certain dissimilarity of
temperament and interests prevented them from marrying. The girl could
not entrust her future to such a man. It was not a pleasant subject,
but it might be well to return for a moment to the question of the
wrapping that had been spoken of before; it should here be noted that
the girl had taken, not one of her own undergarments, but one of her
master's shirts. The question at once arose: had the man himself
offered the material for the purpose? Here, one was at first inclined
to see a possibility, at any rate, that the man, Axel, had had some
part in the affair.
"H'm," from some one in court. Loud and hard--so much so, indeed,
that the speaker paused, and all looked round to see who might be
responsible for the interruption. The presiding justice frowned.
But, went on the advocate for the defence, collecting himself again,
in this respect, also, we can set our minds at rest, thanks to the
accused herself. It might seem well to her advantage to divide the
blame here, but she had not attempted to do so. She had entirely and
without reserve absolved Axel Stroem from any complicity whatever in
the fact of her having taken his shirt instead of something of her own
on her way to the water--that is, on her way to the woods to gather
juniper. There was not the slightest reason for doubting the
asseveration of the accused on this point; her depositions had
throughout been found in accordance with the facts, and the same was
evidently the case in this. Had the shirt been given her by the man,
this would have been to presuppose a killing of the child already
planned--the accused, truthful as she was, had not attempted to
charge even this man with a crime that had never been committed. Her
demeanour throughout had been commendably frank and open; she had
made no endeavour to throw the blame on others. There were frequent
instances before the court of this delicacy of feeling on the part of
the accused, as, for instance, the fact that she had wrapped up the
body of the child as well as she could, and put it away decently, as
the Lensmand had found it.
Here the presiding justice interposed, merely as a matter of form,
observing that it was grave No. 2 which the Lensmand had found--the
grave in which Axel had buried the body after its removal from the
first.
"True, that is true. I stand corrected," said the advocate, with
all proper respect for the president of the court. Perfectly true.
But--Axel had himself stated that he had only carried the body from
one grave and laid it in the other. And there could be no doubt but
that a woman was better able to wrap up a child than was a man--and
who best of all? Surely a mother's tender hand?
The presiding justice nods.
In any case--could not this girl--if she had been of another
sort--have buried the child naked? One might even go so far as to say
that she might have thrown it into a dustbin. She might have left it
out under a tree in the open, to freeze to death--that is to say, of
course, if it had not been dead already. She might have put it in the
oven when left alone, and burnt it up. She might have taken it up to
the river at Sellanraa and thrown it in there. But this mother did
none of these things; she wrapped the dead child neatly in a cloth
and buried it. And if the body had been found wrapped neatly when the
grave was opened, it must be a woman and not a man who had so wrapped
it.
And now, the advocate for the defence went on, it lay with the court
to determine what measure of guilt could properly be attributed to the
girl Barbro in the matter. There was but little remaining for which
she could be blamed at all--indeed, in his, counsel's, opinion, there
was nothing. Unless the court found reason to convict on the charge
of having failed to notify the death. But here, again--the child was
dead, and nothing could alter that; the place was far out in the
wilds, many miles from either priest or Lensmand; natural enough,
surely, to let it sleep the eternal sleep in a neat grave in the
woods. And if it were a crime to have buried it thus, then the accused
was not more guilty than the father of the child--as it was, the
misdemeanour was surely slight enough to be overlooked. Modern
practice was growing more and more disposed to lay more stress
on reforming the criminal than on punishing the crime. It was an
antiquated system which sought to inflict punishment for every mortal
thing--it was the _lex talionis_ of the Old Testament, an eye for an
eye and a tooth for a tooth. There was no longer the spirit of the law
in modern times. The law of the present day was more humane, seeking
to adjust itself according to the degree of criminal intent and
purpose displayed in each case.
No! The court could never convict this girl. It was not the object of
a trial to secure an addition to the number of criminals, but rather
to restore to society a good and useful member. It should be noted
that the accused had now the prospect of a new position where she
would be under the best possible supervision. Fru Lensmand Heyerdahl
had, from her intimate knowledge of the girl, and from her own
valuable experience as a mother, thrown wide the doors of her own home
to the girl; the court would bear in mind the weight of responsibility
attaching to its decision here, and would then convict or acquit the
accused. Finally, he wished to express his thanks to the learned
counsel for the prosecution, who had generously refrained from
demanding a conviction--a pleasing evidence of deep and humane
understanding.
The advocate for the defence sat down.
The remainder of the proceedings did not take long. The summing up was
but a repetition of the same points, as viewed from opposite sides, a
brief synopsis of the action of the play, dry, dull, and dignified. It
had all been managed very satisfactorily all round; both the advocates
had pointed out what the court should consider, and the presiding
justice found his task easy enough.
Lights were lit, a couple of lamps hanging from the ceiling--a
miserable light it was, the justice could hardly see to read his
notes. He mentioned with some severity the point that the child's
death had not been duly notified to the proper authorities--but that,
under the circumstances, should be considered rather the duty of the
father than of the mother, owing to her weakness at the time. The
court had then to determine whether any case had been proved with
regard to concealment of birth and infanticide. Here the evidence
was again recapitulated from beginning to end. Then came the usual
injunction as to being duly conscious of responsibility, which the
court had heard before, and finally, the not uncommon reminder that in
cases of doubt, the scale should be allowed to turn in favour of the
accused.
And now all was clear and ready.
The judges left the room and went into another apartment. They were to
consider a paper with certain questions, which one of them had with
him. They were away five minutes, and returned with a "No" to all the
questions.
No, the girl Barbro had not killed her child.
Then the presiding judge said a few more words, and declared that the
girl Barbro was now free.
The court-house emptied, the comedy was over....
Someone takes Axel Stroem by the arm: it is Geissler. "H'm," said he,
"so you're done with that now!"
"Ay," said Axel.
"But they've wasted a lot of your time to no purpose."
"Ay," said Axel again. But he was coming to himself again gradually,
and after a moment he added: "None the less, I'm glad it was no
worse."
"No worse?" said Geissler. "I'd have liked to see them try!" He spoke
with emphasis, and Axel fancied Geissler must have had something to do
with the case himself; that he had intervened. Heaven knows if,
after all, it had not been Geissler himself that had led the whole
proceedings and gained the result he wished. It was a mystery, anyway.
So much at least Axel understood, that Geissler had been on his side
all through.
"I've a deal to thank you for," said he, offering his hand.
"What for?" asked Geissler.
"Why, for--for all this."
Geissler turned it off shortly. "I've done nothing at all. Didn't
trouble to do, anything--'twasn't worth while." But for all that,
Geissler was not displeased, maybe, at being thanked; it was as if he
had been waiting for it, and now it had come. "I've no time to stand
talking now," he said. "Going back tomorrow, are you? Good. Good-bye,
then, and good luck to you." And Geissler strolled off across the
street.
* * * * *
On the boat going home, Axel encountered the Lensmand and his wife,
Barbro and the two girls called as witnesses.
"Well," said Fru Heyerdahl, "aren't you glad it turned out so well?"
Axel said, "Yes"; he was glad it had come out all right in the end.
The Lensmand himself put in a word, and said: "This is the second
of these cases I've had while I've been here--first with Inger from
Sellanraa, and now this. No, it's no good trying to countenance that
sort of thing--justice must take its course."
But Fru Heyerdahl guessed, no doubt, that Axel was not over pleased
with her speech of the day before, and tried to smooth it over, to
make up for it somehow now. "You understood, of course, why I had to
say all that about you yesterday?"
"H'm--ye--es," said Axel.
"You understood, of course, I know. You didn't think I wanted to make
things harder for you in any way. I've always thought well of you, and
I don't mind saying so."
"Ay," said Axel, no more. But he was pleased and touched at her words.
"Yes, I mean it," said Fru Heyerdahl. "But I was obliged to try and
shift the blame a little your way, otherwise Barbro would have been
convicted, and you too. It was all for the best, indeed it was."
"I thank you kindly," said Axel.
"And it was I and no other that went about from one to another through
the place, trying to do what I could for you both. And you saw, of
course, that we all had to do the same thing--make out that you were
partly to blame, so as to get you both off in the end."
"Ay," said Axel.
"Surely you didn't imagine for a moment that I meant any harm to you?
When I've always thought so well of you!"
Ay, this was good to hear after all the disgrace of it. Axel, at any
rate, was so touched that he felt he must do something, give Fru
Heyerdahl something or other, whatever he could find--a piece of meat
perhaps, now autumn was come. He had a young bull....
Fru Lensmand Heyerdahl kept her word; she took Barbro to live with
her. On board the steamer, too, she looked after the girl, and saw
that she was not cold, nor hungry; took care, also, that she did not
get up to any nonsense with the mate from Bergen. The first time it
occurred, she said nothing, but simply called Barbro to her. But a
little while after there was Barbro with him again, her head on one
side, talking Bergen dialect and smiling. Then her mistress called her
up and said: "Really, Barbro, you ought not to be going on like that
among the men now. Remember what you've just been through, and what
you've come from."
"I was only talking to him a minute," said Barbro. "I could hear he
was from Bergen."
Axel did not speak to her. He noticed that she was pale and
clear-skinned now, and her teeth were better. She did not wear either
of his rings....
And now here is Axel tramping up to his own place once more. Wind and
rain, but he is glad at heart; a mowing-machine and a harrow down at
the quay; he had seen them. Oh, that Geissler! Never a word had he
said in town about what he had sent. Ay, an unfathomable man was
Geissler.
Chapter VIII
Axel had no long time to rest at home, as it turned out; the autumn
gales led to fresh trouble and bothersome work that he had brought
upon himself: the telegraph apparatus on his wall announced that the
line was out of order.
Oh, but he had been thinking overmuch of the money, surely, when he
took on that post. It had been a nuisance from the start. Brede Olsen
had fairly threatened him when he went down to fetch the apparatus
and tools; ay, had said to him in as many words: "You don't seem like
remembering how I saved your life last winter!"
"'Twas Oline saved my life," answered Axel.
"Ho, indeed! And didn't I carry you down myself on my own poor
shoulders? Anyway, you were clever enough to buy up my place in
summer-time and leave me homeless in the winter." Ay, Brede was deeply
offended; he went on:
"But you can take the telegraph for me, ay, all the rubble of it for
me. I and mine we'll go down to the village and start on something
there--you don't know what it'll be, but wait and see. What about a
hotel place where folk can get coffee? You see but we'll manage all
right. There's my wife can sell things to eat and drink as well as
another, and I can go out on business and make a heap more than you
ever did. But I don't mind telling you, Axel, I could make things
awkward for you in many odd ways, seeing all I know about the
telegraph and things; ay, 'twould be easy enough both to pull down
poles and cut the line and all. And then you to go running out after
it midway in the busy time. That's all I'll say to you, Axel, and you
bear it in mind...."
Now Axel should have been down and brought up the machines from the
quay--all over gilt and colouring they were, like pictures to see. And
he might have had them to look at all that day, and learn the manner
of using them--but now they must wait. 'Twas none so pleasant to have
to put aside all manner of necessary work to run and see after a
telegraph line. But 'twas the money....
Up on the top of the hill he meets Aronsen. Ay, Aronsen the trader
standing there looking and gazing out into the storm, like a vision
himself. What did he want there? No peace in his mind now, it seems,
but he must go up the fjeld himself and look at the mine with his own
eyes. And this, look you, Trader Aronsen had done from sheer earnest
thought of his own and his family's future. Here he is, face to face
with bare desolation on the forsaken hills, machines lying there to
rust, carts and material of all sorts left out in the open--'twas
dismal to see. Here and there on the walls of the huts were placards,
notices written by hand, forbidding any one to damage or remove the
company's property--tools, carts, or buildings.
Axel stops for a few words with the mad trader, and asks if he has
come out shooting.
"Shooting? Ay, if I could only get within reach of him!"