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The Breitmann Ballads by Charles G. Leland

Part 4 out of 5

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Of Jean Farina's name.
He find it nort', he find it sout',
He find it eferyvhere;
Dere vas no house in all Cologne
Boot J. M. F. vas dere.[64]

De best Cologne in all Cologne
I'll shwear for cerdain sure,
Ish maket in de Jülichsplatz
Und dat at Numero Four.
Boot of dis Cologne in Jülichsplatz
Let dis pe understood,
Dat some of id ish foorst-rate pad,
Vhile some is foorst-rate good.

Boot von ding drafellers moost opserve,
Dis treadful trut I dells,
Fast ash dis Farinaceous crowd
So vast hafe grown the schmells-
Dose awfool schmells in gass' und strass'
Vitch mofe crate Coleridge squalm:
If so he wrote, vot vouldt he write
Apout dem now, py tam?

Of all de schmells I efer schmelt,
Py gutter, sink, or well,
At efery gorner of Cologne
Dere's von can peat dat schmell.
Vhen dere you go you'll find it so,
Don't dake de ding on troost;
De meanest skunk in Yankee land
Vould die dere of disgoost.

Boot noding dinked der Breitmann
Of schmutz or idle schein,
Vhen he sat in Abendämmerung
Und looket owd on der Rhein
Im goldnen gleam - vhile pealin far
Rang shlow, shveet kloster bells,
Und in de dim, plue peaudiful,
Rose distant Drachenfels.

Dey trinket lieb Liebfrauenmilch
So pure ash voman's trut';
De singed de songs of Shermany,
De songs of Breitmann's yout'.
De songs mit tears of vanished years,
Made peaudiful in wein.
Dus endet out de firster tay
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.



"Were diu werlt alle min,
Von deme mere unze an den Rin.
Des wolt ih mih darben,
Daz diu dame von Engellant
Lege an minen armen."
- Carmina Burana.

AM Rhein! Acain am Rheine!
In boat oopon der Rhein!
De castle-bergs soft goldnen
Im Abendsonnenschein,
Mit lots of Rudesheimer,
Und saitenklang und sang,
Und laties singin lieder,
Ash ve go sailin 'long.

Und von fair Englisch dame
Vas dere, so wunderscheen;
Vene'er der Breitmann saw her,
Id made his heartsen pain.
Oh, dose long-tailed veilchen Augen,
Vitch voke soosh hopes und fears,
Deir shape vas nod like almonds,
Boot more like fallin tears.

Und shpecdagles were o'er dem,
De glass of pince-nez kind,
In mercy to de beoples,
Less dey pe shdrucken blind.
Und gazin in dem glasses,
Reflected he pehold
De Rhine, mit all de shdeam-poats,
Und crags in Sonnengold.

De signs upon de bier-haus;
De gals a-washin close;
De wein-garts on de moundain,
Like heafenly shdairs in rows:
De banks, basaltic-paven,
Like bee-hife cells to view;
A donkey shtandin on dem,
Likevise her lofer too.

All dis oopon dos glasses
Vas blainly to pe seen;
One saw whate'er vas nodiced,
Py de schöne Engländrinn.
Boot oh! de fery lofe-most
Of all dat lofe-most pe
Her own plue veilchen Augen-
Herself she couldt not see.

So ist es in dis Leben;
For beaudy oft we spied,
Nor know de cratest peaudy
Ish in our soul inside.
Mein Gott! Vot himmlisch shplendor
Vas seen mitout an toubt,
If some crate bower supernal
Vas toorn oos insite out!

Und gazin long on Natur,
Und gazin long on Man,
Shdill all dings glite vorüber,
Ash since de vorldt pegan:
Ash in dat laity's glasses,
Ve see dem bassin py;
Yet veel a soul beneat' dem,
A schweet eternal eye.

O schöne Englisch maiden
Mit honey-colored hair,
Dat flows ash if a beinen korb
Had got oopsettet dere-
Und all de schweetness of your soul
Vas dripplin from your brain!
Oh shall I efer meet mit dir
Oopon dis eart' acain?

O Englisch engel maiden!
O schveet betaubend dofe!
O Rheinwein und cigarren!
O luncheon, mixed mit lofe!
O Drachenfels und Nonnenwerth!
O Liebeslust und pein!
Dus ents de second chapterlet
Of Breitmann on der Rhein.



(Alt Deutsch.)

HE shtood peside de Kloster-place,
Oopon de Rheinisch shore,
Und dere he saw a lofely face,
He'd seen in treams pefore.

"Feinslieb, und will'st dou go mit me?
Feinsllieb, make no delay;
For rocks ish shdeep und vales ish teep,
Und dings ish in de way."

"Und oh! how can I go mit dir,
Or flyen out of land?
Der bischof holts me py de law,
Der Rheingraf by der hand.

"Liebsherz, if dou could'st landwarts gehn,
I'd follow willingly;
Boot we are leafs, und shdrong's de shdem
Vitch pinds oos to de dree."

"Der briest who helt dee py de law
Ish now a broken man;
Der Rheingraf who vouldt marry dee
Ish in der Kaisar's ban.

"Und if de Kloster-beoples here
Vill shdop your goin to town,
Bei Gott! I'll burn von half of dem,
De oder half I'll trown!

"Denn linger not to back dy drunk,
Boot led our lofe hafe vings;
Dere's milliners in fair Cologne,
Vill make you avery dings."

She toorn her eyes im mondenschein,
She schmile so heafenly;
"Dear lofe, so shendle und so goot!
I'll cut away mit dee.

"Und do not killl de Kloster-volk,
'Tvouldt only bring tiscrace!
Dough if I had de abbess here,
Lort! how I'd slap her vace!"

De moonlighdt blayed oopon de drees,
It shined oopon de blain,
Two forms rode in de mitnight woods,
Und nefer coomed again.



"Vot ish Art? Id ish somedings to drink, objectively
foregebrought in de Beaudiful. Doubtest dou? - denn read, ash
I hafe read, de Dyonisiacs of Nonnus, and learn dat de
oopboorstin of infinite worlds into edernal Light und mad goldnen
Lofeliness - yea of dein own soul - is typifide only py de
Vot! - shdill skebdigal? Tell me denn, O dou of liddle fait,
vere on
eart ish de kunst obtain ids highest form if not in a
Ha! ha! I poke you dere!"
- Caupo Recauponatus, MS. by Fritz Swackenhammer,
candidatus theologiæ
at Tübingen, shoost now
lagerbierwirth in St.
Louis. (Dec. 1869.)

"Cerevisia bibunt homines
Animalia ceteræ fontes."

In a field of goldnen parley
Goot King Gambrinus shlept,
Und treamin' pout de dursty volk,
Dey say he gried und vept.
"In all mine land of Nederland,
Dere crows no mead or wein,
Und wasser I couldt nefer get
Indo dis troat of mein.

"Now hear me on, ye headen gotts!
Und all de Christian too;
Der Bacchus und der Shoopider,
Und Màrie tressed in plue!
Und mighdy Thor, der donner gott,
Und any else dat be!
Der von as helps me in dis Noth,
His serfant I will pe."

Und ash dis sinfull headen
All in de parley lay,
Dere coom in tream an angel
Who soft dese worts tid say:
"Stay oop, dou boor Gambrinus!
For efen all aroundt
Im parley vhere dou shleepest,
Some dings goot to trink ish found.

"Im parley vhere dou shleepest
Dere hides a trink so clear,
Dat men will know zukunftig-
Ash porter- ale- or bier."
Und denn in Nederlandisch
He put de könig troo,
Und gafe him - allwhile treaming-
De recipé to prew.

Oop rose der goot Gambrinus,
Und shook him in de sun:
"Go vay, ye sinfool headen gotts!
Mit you its out und done!
Ye'fe left me mit mine beoples
In error und in durst,
Till in our treadful tryness,
Ve tont know vitch is wurst."

Dat vas der goot Gambrinus
Oonto his palac't vent,
Und loafers troo de Nederland
To all his lordts he sent.
"Leave Odin - or you lose your hets!"
De order vas sefere,
Yet tinged mit mildness, for he sent
De recipé for bier.

O den a merry sound vas heardt
Of bildin troo de land,
Und de kirchen und de braweries
Vent oop on efery hand;
For de masons dey vere hart at vork,
Und trinkin hart at dat,
Und some hat bricks mitin de hods,
Und some mitin deir hat.

Dey prew it in de Nederland,
Dey prew it on de Rhine;
Boot in de oldt Bavarian land,
Dey make it shdrong und fein.
Und he dat trinks in Munich,
Ash all goot vellers know,
Has got somedings to dink apout,
Vherefer he may go.


Hafe you heardt of Köng Gambrinus?
If you hafen't id vas gueer,
For he vas de first erfinder
Und de holy saint of bier.
Und his bortrait, mit a sceptre,
Fery peaudifool to see,
Hangs on afery lager-bier house,
In de land of Germanie.

Efery vhere de whole world ofer,
Deutschers paint him on de sign,
As a broof dat dey are dealin
In de Bok und Lager line.
Crown und bier-mug, robe und ermine;
German signs of empire, dese,
Mit a long white beard a fallin'
Fery nearly to his knees.

Vonce dis bier-saint, pright und early,
Rose from bett und vent his vay,
To a dark mysderious gastle,
Vhere his lager-donjon lay.
Vhile de lark's first song vas ringin',
Und die roses shone in dew,
Den his soul vas shoost in order
To enshoy de early brew.

Deeply, awfooly he schwilled it,
Till de vaults seem toornin round;
Und vhile tipsy - over tips he-
In he falls - und dere is trowned.
Yet vhile goorglin in de bier-fass,
Biously he gafe his soul:
"Gott verdammich! Donnerwetter!
Himmels sacrament-a-mol!"

Dere dey found der köng "departed,"
Not mitout his stir-up cup:
Moosh dey woonderd dat he berishet
Vhen he might hafe troonk it oop;
Or dat his long peard vitch floatet
Fool a yard on efery side,
Hadn't buoyed him from destrugdion:-
Dus der beer-dead monarch died.

"Sankt Martin war ein frommer Mann
Trank gerne Cerevisiam,
Und hatt er kein Pecuniam
So liess er seinen Tunicam."

(Comment by Herr Schwackenhammer.)

VONCE oopon a dimes in Frankfort der Herr Breitemann exsberiencet
an interfal pedween de periot ven he hat gespent de last
he hat become from home, und de arrifal of de succedin wechsel,
bill of exghange - und, in blain derms, was hard up. Derefore he
vent to dat goot relation who may pe foundt at den or fifdeen per
cent all de worlt ofer, - "mine Onkel," - und poot his tress-goat
oop de shpout for den florins. No sooner vas dis done, dan dere
coomed an infitation from de English laity in whom he vas so
mit lofe in betaken, to geh mit her to a ball-barty. Awful bad
he veel, und sot apout tree hours mitout sayin nodings, und denn
wafin his hand, boorst out mit de vollowin version of dat
lied by Wilhelm Caspary:-

"Mein Frack ist im Pfand-haus."

Mine tress-goat is shpouted, mine tress-goat aint hier,
Vhile you in your ball-ropes go splurgin, mein tear!
To barties mit you I'm infitet you know,
Boot my pest coat ish shpouted - mine poots are no go.
To hell mit mine Onkel - dat rasgally knafe!
Dis pledgin und pawnin has mate me his slafe!
Ven I dink of his sign-bost, den dree dimes I bawl,
Vhile mine plack pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.

Goot night to dee fine lofe - so lofely und rich,
Mein tress-goat ish shpouted - gon-fount efery stitch!
I dinks dat olt Satan troo all mine affairs,
Lofe, business, und fun, has peen sewin his tares.
My tress-goat ish shpouted - mine tress-goat aint here,
While you in your glorie go shinin, mein tear,
Und de luck of der teufel ish loose ofer all,
Vhile my black pants hang lonely und dark on de wall.

Dis four-goin song vas over-set by der Hans Breitmann from de
German of Wilhelm Caspary, whose lyric vas a barody on a
dranslation made indo Deutsch by Freiligrath from anoder boem py
Sir Waldherr Scott, vitch Sir Waldherr vas kit de idée of
from an
oldt Scottish ballad vitch pegin mit de vorts-

"My hearts in de Hielands, mein hearts ish nae hier,
Mein hearts in de Hielands, in wilden revier;
It hoonts for de shtag, und id hunts for de reh,
Mein hearts ist im Hochland wo immer ich geh."

Dis is de original Scotch, as goot as I can mineself rememper
Ven I vas dell der Herr Karl Blind pout dis intercommixture of
perplexified dransitions from Scotch to English, and dence into
German, and dereafter into a barody, vitch vas be done ofer again
Herr Breitmann's own slanguage, he sait it vas a Rattenkönig
- a
phrase too familiar to mine readers to require any wider




DERE'S lighds oopon de Appian,
Dey shine de road entlang;
Und from ein hundert tombs dere brumms
A wild Lateinisch song;
It rings from Nero's goldnen haus;
Evoe! - here he coom!
Fly oud, ye mœnads, from your craves!-
Hans Breitmann's got to Rome!

For vhile de lamp holts oud to purn,
Or von goot shpark ish dere,
Dere's hope for all of dem whose lives
Ish doun in Lemprière.
Von real, shenuine heathen
Is coom at last to home;
Ye shleepin gotts, lift oop your hets-
Hans Breitmann lifes in Rome!

Silenus mit der Hercules,
Dere-to der Maia's sohn,
Ish all unite in Breitmann
To make a stunnin one.
Frau Venus mit de Bacchanals
Ist shmile to see him come;
De Vesta only toorn her pack
Vhen Breitmann kit to Rome.

He vented to de Vacuum,
Vhere de Bope ish keep his bulls;
Boot couldn't vind dem, dough he heardt
Dat all de blace vas fools.
Dere ish here and dere some ochsen,
Right manivest I see;
Boot de bools all comes from Irish priests,
Said Breitemann, said he.

Und goin' py de Vacuum,
Und passin' troo de yard;
Mein Gott! how vas he stoomple, vhen
He see der Schweitzer guard,
Mit efery kinds of colors tresst,
Like shtreamers in de van.
"Hans Wurst ist stets ein Deutscher g'west,"
Das marked der Breitemann.

Und dus replied an guartsmann:-
"I shoys to see you here:
Ich bin dem Bapst sei Laibgaertner.
Dazu a halberthier.
Dis purpur kleid of yellow-plue
Vas made, ash I hafe heard,
Py von Hans Michel Angelo,
Der tailor of our guard.

"Ve're shoost von hoondert dirty strong,
Ve list for twenty year;
De serfice ist not pad, boot dis-
Verdamm das Römisch bier!
For ven mit birra gazzosa
A maiden fills my glass,
She might ash vell gife gift ash say-
'Feinslieb, ich schenk dir dass!'"

Und dus rebly der Breitmann:-
"Un Tedesco Italianazato,
Ein Deutscher toorned Italian, ish
Il diavolo in carnato.
Your clothes are like infernal flames,
Dey burn my fery soul;
Boot to-night we'll trink togedder - nun
Lieb'landsmann lebe wohl!"

At de Sherman artisds' festa,
Vhere all vas pright und fair,
'Tvas fairer und more prighterfull
Vhen Breitmann enter dere.
Und der vaiters in de Greco
(So long he trinked und sot)
Vas called him L'Ubbriacone-
'Tvas de name der Breitmann got.

He saw a veller in de shtreet,
Vot sell some friction-matches;
De kind dey call Infallible,
For dey blazes ven you scratches.
Dey dragged him off to brison,
Und tied him mit a rope;
For in Rome dere's nix Infallible,
Dey said, excebt de Bope.

Hans see de crate Prometheus,
In Corsini's gallery hang;
He tought apout de matches,
Und it made his heart go bang.
It's risk to carry light apout,
Too cheap for efery man;
How de Lucifers is fallen![67]
Ita dixit Breitmann.

He got among de Bope's Zouaves,
Dey trinked from morn to night;
Den frolicked colle belle
Ontil de shky crew pright.
It blease der Breitmann vonderfool,
And dus he often say:
"Zouaviter in modo ish
Der real Roman way."

Boot oh, his heart burned vild mit fire,
His eyes gefilled mit tears,
At de gotts in efery bilder saal,
Mit goats' legs, tails, und ears.
Und he sopped - "Ach liebes Deutschland,
Bist here on every hand?
Was machst du Mephistophelés
So weit im Wälschen Land?"

Boot de wood-nymphs boorst out laughin,
Der Garten-gott dere to,
Und sait - "Oldt Hans! vile you're apout
Ve nefer can look blue."
Den Pan blay on his Syrinx,
To de tune of Mary Blane,
"Don't gry pecause ve're out of town,
Ve're coming pack again.

"Von day you got de yolk und vhite,
De next day only shells;
Von day dey holts a council,
Und de next day - 'someding else!'
Id's bopes und kings, und gotts and dings,
Oopon dis eartly ball;
Boot for me id's all von frolic,
Und a high oldt carnival!

"Rise oop, dou Odin-trafeler,
Und toorn dee to de Nort,
Wherefrom, as Bible dells dee,
Crate efil shall come fort.
Dere is mutterins in Ravenna,
Und ere long dere'll come a turn,
A real hell-bender from de land
Of Dieterich von Bern.

"Und ven der Breitmann's prototype,
Der Fictoor Manuel,
Cooms tromplin, tromplin troo de fern,
To give dis coontry hell.
Und ven in La Comarca,
Der is shtorm all in de air,
Dy Gotts vill gife dee vork, mein Sohn,
Hans Breitmann shall be dere!"

For a yar will nod be ofer
Pefore de Fräntsch will run,
Und de game at last be ented,
Und Italy pe won.
Und denn in roarin battle,
For hishtory so grand,
Dy banner'll lead de Uhlan spears,
All in de Frankenland.


Nota bene. - Dis boem was all written in 1869, pefore
wars; und all de dings prophezeit in it coomed to bass. Herein
Herr Breitmann abbears ash a Seher or Prophet so crate as de
ash nefer vas. Der crate ardist, Mishter W. W. Story, for whom
lied vas written, can proof all dis.


"Robusti sono i fatti."
- Discorso del Terremoto,
del S. Alessandro Sardo.
Venetia, A.D. 1586.

IN San Gianni Lateran,
Dey've cot a flight of shdairs,
More woonderful ash nefer vas,
As Latin pooks declares.
For you kits your sins forgifen,
If you glimes dem knee py knee;
It's such a gitten up a stairs,
I nefer yet did see.

Now as Breitmann vas a vaitin
Among some demi reps,
Ascensionem expectans,
To see dem glime de steps,
Dere came a sinful scoffer,
Who his mind had firmly set
To go dem holy sdairs afoot,
Und do it on a bet!

Boot shoost as he vas startet,
To make dis sassy go,
Der Breitmann caught him py de neck,
Und tripped him off his toe!
Und den dere come de skience,
A la prenez gardez vous;
For he bung his eye and bust his shell,
Und shplit his noshe in dwo.

De briests vere so astonish,
To see him lam de man,
Dat dey shvore a holy miracle
Vas vork by Breitemann.
Says Breitmann, "I'm a heretic,
But dis you may pe bound,
No chap shall mock relishious dings
Vhile I'm a bummin round.

"Und you owes me really noding,
For as I'll plainly show,
At last I've found out someding
Vot I alfays vant to know.
Und now dat I have found it,
In de newspapers I'll brag:
Evviva! Ho trovato,
Vot means a Scala-Wag."[68]


"Altri beva il Falerno, altri la Tolfa.
. . . . . . . .

Toscana re, dite
Pra ch'io parli dite."
- Bacco in Toscano,
di Francisco Redi.

"Si regressum feci metro
Retro ante, ante retro-
Quid si graves sunt acuti?
Si accentus fiant muti?
Quid si placide, plene, plane
Fregi frontem Prisciani?-
Sat est Verbum declinavi
- Barnabæ Itinerarium. London, 1716.

VON efenin ash der Breitmann vent from his weinhaus vinkin,
So peepy mit Falernian vitch he vas starkly trinkin,
He found his hut and goat was gone, - dey'd dook em oud for
Und in deir blace a priester hut und priester mantel lyin.

Der Breitmann poot de triangel oopon his het, and whistled,
Den rop de cloak around his form, and down de Corso mizzled.
De beoples gazed mit staunischment as bey dem he go vheelin,
He look ganz oltra tramontane, so twisty vas his reelin.

Next tay in Vaticano, while he shtared at frescoes o'er
Hans toorned und mit amazemend saw der Pabst vas shoost pefore
Down on his knees der Breitmann vent - for so de law it teaches;
He proke two holes in de bavement - und likevise shblit
his preeches.

"Ego video," says de Bope - "tu es antistes ex Almania,
Est una mala gente et corrupta con insania,
Un fons hereticorum et malorum tut terrible,
Perche non vultis che ego - il Papa - sei infallibile."

"Sit verbo venia," said Hans, "permitte, Sancte Pater,
Num verum est ut noster rum gemixta est mit water?
In cœlis wo die götter live, non semper est sereno,
Nor de wein ash goot ash decet in each spaccio di vino.

"Sunt mihi multi fratres qui si denkunt ut dicisti,
Ego kickerem illos, validê, per sanguine de Christi!
In nostro monasterio si habemus nostrum rentum
Contra infallibilità non curamus rubrum centrum.[69]

"Viginti nostrorum nuper convenere,
In quondam capitulo, simul et dixere;
Papa vult Concilium in Romam tenere,
Quid debemus super hoc ipsi respondere?"[70]

Et dixit noster presul, "Es ist mir omnis unus,
Si Papa est infallibilis, tanquam non sum jejunus,
Si nonus est Pius aut Pius est Nonus-
Diabolis curat. Non accipio dieser onus.

"Si possum me jac&ebreve;re circum vitrum Rhenovini[71]
Es ist mir wurst si Papa est originis divini:
Deus se fecit olim homo, et nahm dis irds'che Leben,[72]
Et nunc Papa noster will sich selbst zum Gott erheben.

"Ita dixit Breitmann et sanctus Pater respondit:
Me piace semper intendere tutto cio che l'on dit,
Sed tu dic mihi la sua ragione:
Tu non homo natus es, solus mangiar maccheroni.

"Tonitrus et cespes!" dixit Johanes Breitmann.
"Si veritatem cupies, tunc ego sum der right man;
Percute semper ferrum dum caldum est et malleable,
Nunc est tuum tempus te facere infallible.

"In nostra America quum Præses decet abire,
Die ultimo fecit omne quod posset imaginire.
Appointet ambasciatores et post-magistros,
Consules et alios, per dextros et sinistros.

"Quum Rex Bomba ista Neapolit-anus,
Compulsus fuit to shin it - ut dixit Africanus-
Fecit ultimo die ducos et countos, vanus.
(Inter alios M'Closkey, tuus Hibernicus chanberlanus.)[73]

"Et quia tu es; ut credo; ultimus Poporum,
Facis bene devenire, quod dicitur High Cockalorum-
Sei magnissimus toad in the puddle, ite caput, magnamente;
Et ERITIS SICUT DEUS, nemine contradicente!

"Unus error solus, Sancte Pater commisisti.
Quia primus infallible non te proclamavisti,
Nam nemo audet dicere: Papa fecit quod non est bonus.
Decet semper jactare super alios probandi onus.

'Conceptio Immaculata, hoc modo fixisti,
Et nemo audet dicere unum verbum, de isti:
Non vides si infallibilis es, et vultis es exdare,[74]
Non alius sed tu solus hanc debet proclamare."

"Figlio mio," dixit Papa; "Tu es homo mirabilis,
Tua verba sunt mi dulcior quam ostriche cum Chablis
In tutta Roma, de Alemania gente,
Non ho visto uno con si grande mente.

"Vero benedetto es - eris benedictus,
Tibi mitterem photographiam in quo sum depictus.
Tu comprendes situatio - il punto et gravamen.
Sunt pauci clerici ut te. Nunc dico tibi. - Amen!"


"Uns ist in alten Maeren
wunders viel geseit
Von Helden lobebaeren,
von grosser Arebeit.
Von Festen und Hochzeiten,
von Weinen und Klagen,
Von kuehnen Recken Streiten,
möht Ihr nun Wunder hören sagen."
- Der Nibelungen Lied.

DO oos, in anciend shdory,
Crate voonders ish peen told
Of lapors fool of glory,
Of heroes bluff und bold;
Of high oldt times a-kitin,
Of howlin und of tears,
Of kissin and of vightin,
All dis we likes to hears.

Dere growed once dimes in Schwaben,
Since fifty years pegan,
An shild of decend elders,
His name Hans Breitemann.
De gross adfentures dat he had,
If you will only look,
Ish all bescribed so truly
In dis fore-lyin book.

Und allaweil dese lieder
Vere goin troo his het,
De writer lay von Sonntay
a-shleepin in his bett;
Vhen, lo! a yellow bigeon
Coom to him in a dream,
De same dat Mr. Barnum
Vonce had in his Muséum.

Und dus out-shprach de bigeon:
"If you should brint de songs
Or oder dings of Breitmann
Vhich to dem on-belongs,
Dey will tread de road of Sturm and Drang,
Die wile es möhte leben,[75]
Und be mis-geborn in pattle-
To dis fate ish it ergeben."

Und dus rebly de dreamer:
"If on de ice it shlip,
Denn led id dake ids shanses,
Rip Sam, und let 'er rip!
Dou say'st id vill pe sturmy:
Vot sturmy ish, ish crand,
Crates heroes ish de beoples
In Uncle Samuel's land.

"Du bist ein rechter Gelbschnabel,[76]
O golden bigeon mine,
Und I'll fighdt id on dis summer,
If id dakes me all dis line.
Full liddle ish de discount,
Oopon de Yankee peeps."
"Go to hell!" exglaim de bigeon;
Foreby vas all mine shleeps.

Dere vent to Sout Carolina
A shentleman who dinked,[77]
Dat te pallads of der Breitmann
Should papered pe und inked.
Und dat he vouldt fixed de brintin
Before de writer know:
Dis make to many a brinter,
Fool many a bitter woe.

All in de down of Charleston,
A druckerei he found,
Where dey cut de copy into takes
Und sorted it around.
Und all vas goot peginnen,
For no man heeded mooch.
Dat half de jours vas Mericans
Und half of dem vas Dutch.

Und vorser shtill, anoder half
Had vorn de Federal plue,
Vhile de anti-half in Davis grey
Had peen Confeterates true.
Great Himmel! vot a shindy
Vas shdarted in de crowd,
Vhen some von read Hans Breitmann,
His Barty all aloud!

Und von goot-nadured Yankee,
He schwear id vos a shame,
To dell soosh lies on Dutchmen,
Und make of dem a game.
Boot dis make mad Fritz Luder,
Und he schwear dis treat of Hans,
Vos shoost so goot a barty
Ash any oder man's.

Und dat nodings vas so looscious
In all dis eartly shpeer,
Ash a quart mug fool of sauer-kraut,
Mit a plate of lager-bier.
Dat de Yankee might pe tam mit himself,
For he, der Fritz, hafe peen,
In many soosh a barty
Und all dose dings hafe seen.

All mad oopsproong de Yankee,
Mit all his passion ripe;
Und vired at Fritz mit de shootin-shtick,
Vheremit he vas fixin type.
It hit him on de occupit,
Und laid him on de floor;
For many a long day afder
I ween his het was sore.

Dis roused Piet Weiser der Pfaelzer,
Who vas quick to act und dink;
He helt in hand a roller
Vheremit he vas rollin ink.
Und he dake his broof py shtrikin
Der Merican top of his het,
Und make soosh a vine impression,
Dat he left de veller for deat.

Allaweil dese dings oonfolded,
Dere vas rows of anoder kind,
Und drople in de wigwam
Enough to trife dem plind.
Und a crate six-vooted Soudern man
Vot hafe vorked on a Refiew,
Shvear he hope to Gott he mighd pie de forms
If de Breitmann's book warn't true.

For de Sout' vas ploundered derriple,
Und in dat darksome hour
He hafe lossed a yallow-pine maiden,
Of all de land de vlower.
Bright gold doublones a hoondered
For her he'd gladly bay
Ash soon ash a thrip for a ginger-cake,
Und deem it cheap dat day.

To him antworded a Yorker
Who shoomp den dimes de boun-ti-ee:
(De only dings he lossed in de war
Was a sense of broperty.)
Says he, "Votefer you hafe dropped
Some oder shap hafe get,
Und de yallow-pine liked him petter ash you,
On dat it is safe to bet!"

Dead pale pecame dat Soudern brave,
He tidn't so moosh as yell,
Boot he drop right on to de Yorker,
Und mit von lick bust his shell.
Denn out he flashed his pig-sticker,
Und mit looks of drementous gloom,
Rooshed vildly in de pattle
Dat vas ragin round de room.

Boot in angulo, in de corner-
Anoder quarrel vas grow
'Twix a Boston shap mit a Londoner;
Und de row ish gekommen so:
De Yankee say dat de H-u-mor
Of soosh writin vas less dan small,
Dough it maket de beoples laughen,
Boot dat vas only all.

Denn a Deutscher say, by Donner!
Dat soosh a baradox
Vould leafe no hope for writers
In all Pandora's bænder box.
'Twas like de sayin dat Heine
Hafe no witz in him goot or bad,
Boot he only kept sayin witty dings
To make beoples pelieve he had.

Denn de oder veller be-headed
Dat dere vas not a shbark of foon
In de pad spelt lieds when you lead dem
Into Englisch correctly done:-
Den a Proof Sheet veller respondered,
For he dink de dings vas hard,
"Dat ish shoost like de goot oldt lady
Ash vent to hear Artemus Ward.

"Und say it vas shames de beoples
Vas laugh demselfs most tead
At de boor young veller lecturin,
Vhen he tidn't know vot he said."
Hereauf de Yankee answered,
"Gaul dern it:- Shtop your fuss!"
And all de crowd togeder
Go slap in a grand plug-muss.

De Yankee shlog de Proof Sheet
Soosh an awfool smock on de face,
Dat he shvell right oop like a poonkin
Mit a sense of his tisgrace;
Boot der Deutscher boosted an ink-keg
On dop of de oder's hair:
It vly troo de air like a boomshell - denn-
Mine Gotts! - Vot a sighdt vas dere!

Denn ofer all de shapel
Vierce war vas ragin loose;
Fool many a vighten brinter
Got well ge-gooked his goose.
Fool many a nose mit fisten,
I ween was padly scrouged;
Fool many an eye pright gleamin
Vas ploody out-gegouged.

Dô wart ûfgehouwen,[78]
Dere vas hewin off of pones;
Dô hôrte man darinne
Man heardt soosh treadful croans.
Jach waren dâ die Geste,
De row vas rough and tough,
Genuoge sluogen wunden-
Dere vas plooty wounds enough.

De souls of anciend brinters
From Himmel look down oopon,
Und allowed dat in a chapel
Dere was nefer soosh carryins on.
Dere was Lorenz Coster mit Gutemberg,
Und Scheffer mit der Fust,
Und Sweynheim mit Pannartz trop deers,
Oopon dis teufel's dust.

Dere vas Yankee jours extincted
Who lay upon de vloor,
Dere vas Soudern rebs destructed,
Who vouldt nefer Jeff no more.
Ash deir souls rise oop to Heafen,
Dey heardt de oldt brinters' calls,
Und Gutemberg gifed dem all a kick
Ash he histed dem ofer de walls.

Dat ish de vay dese Ballads
Foorst vere crooshed in ploot and shdorm,
Fool many a day moost bass afay
Pefore dey dook dis form.
De copy flootered o'er de preasts
Of heroes lyin todt,
Dis vas de dire peginnin-
Das war des Breitmann's Noth.

Dis song in Philadelphia
Long dimes ago pegun,
In Paris vas gondinued, und
In Dresden ist full-done.
If any toubt apout de facts,
In nople minds ish grew,
Let dem ashk Carl Benson Bristed,
He knows id all ish drue.

Und now, dese Breitmann shdories
In gebrindt in many a lant,
Sogar in far Australia
Dey're gestohlen und bekannt:-
"Geh hin mein Puch in alle VVelt
Steh auss was dir kompt zu!
Man beysse Dich, man reysse Dich
Nur dass man mir nichts thu!



DERR BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich
Vas fighten high und low,
"Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein!
It's dime for us to go.
Zieh dein Kanonenstiefel an,
Und schleife Dir das Schwert,
Schon lang her han mer nichts gethan,
Der Weg ist reitenswerth."[80]

"Oopon vitch side? I hartly know
Boot von side in dis war:
Dere ist de holy Russ-land
All mit a holy Tsar;
But I pe not a holy-er,
Nor you von Saint, I fear;
Out line is holy ploonder,
Mit sacred Lager-bier.

"Dere's von Constantinoble-man
Vot write to me, und say
He kits me an commission
To make me Breitmann Bey,
Und if I mounts de turpan
Und keeps de Muslin law,
Und bribes ein wenig, den I rise
To Breitemann Pasha.

"Dis much is drue, dat Toorkey is
A real Powder land,
Und if dey're goin' to touch it off,
Vy, ve moost pe on hand.
Und if ve shpring into de airs
Vhile meddlin' in de fuss,
I rader dink some Russian bears
Vill shpring along mit us."

Und ven he kit to Turkreich
Der Breitmann work like mad,
Und kit ein corps togeder,-
Mein Gott! vat men he had!
Mit Polers und mit Shipsies,
Ungaren, Turks, und such,
Und allerlei Gesindel. "Hei!"
Says Hans: "dis beats de Dutch!"

Den onwards to his Schicksal[81]
Und forvarts troo de night,
Und oopwarts to his mission,
Und downvarts in de vight.
Until in de Bulgáren
Von night his horse he strode,
Und meet a tausand Kossacks
Pefore him on de road.

Slap forward rode der Breitmann
Right on de Kossack spears,
But forvarts coom deir leader
And halted his careers,
Und gry, "O Turkisch Ritter,
I am de Capitán,
And if you want a shindy,
Step up, and I'm your man."

Dey fightet like der teufel,
Dey fightet mit deir swords,
Und Breitmann vould hafe kilt him,
But 'twas not on de cards,
For de Kossack fire a bistol
As his retreadt pegan,-
Down from his horse all senseless
Flop! went der Breitemann.

Vhen he hafe kit his senses,
Der Breitmann find he lay
Insite a nople castell,
Upon a canapé;
Und py his side a lady
So wunderschön to see,
Vas shlisin oop a lemon
Indo a cop of thée.

Den to himself say Breitmann,
Aldough he hold his jaw,
"Dis is de vinest womans,
Py Gott! I efer saw.
Vot lofeliness! vot muscle!
Mit efery himmlisch charm!
She measures twenty inches,
Bei Donner! roundt de arm."

De lady see his glances
So noble und so game,
Und yust as he reflected
She dink of him de same,
Und she say, "Wie gehts?" in English,
"Du galiant cavalier,
Who art pecome de captive
All of my bow und spear.

"I am a gal dis mornin',
Yestreen I vas a knight,
Old hoss - you nearly smashedme,
I guess, in that small fight;
And if I hadn't shot you
I think I should have ran."
"Gottshimmel mit Potzbomben!
Egsclaim der Breitemann.

"But say, O nople lady,
Vot got you in dot set
Of plackgards - vilt dou dell me?"
De dame rebly: "You bet!
My father came from Boston,
And when this war began
He got a splendid contract,
All with the Russi-án,

"To sell the army shoe-strings;
But I have read of fights,
And I dream of war and glory,
For I go for women's rights;
Then I read a book of poems
Which fairly turned my head,
The ballads of Hans Breitmann"--
"Oh --- ho!" Hans Breitmann said.

"And as I think the Breitmann
Must be the greatest man
Who ever went a-fighting
Since History began,
I dressed me like a soldier,
For I am stark of limb;
With Breitmann for a model,
And try to act like him.

"Oh, tell me, noble captive,
While rolling in this storm
Which men call life, hast ever
Beheld Hans Breitmann's form?
Oh, could I once embrace him,
And gaze into his eye,
And feel his arms around me,
Then I would gladly die.

"He is the man of mortals,
The Odin of them all,
A higher Incarnation,
The 'Menschheitsidéal,'[82]
A being made to worship,
To me an earthly Gott"--
"Py shings!" exglaim Hans Breitmann,
"Dis ding is gettin hot!

"O laity! - nople gountess!
Dis man of whom you dink
Ish lyin' here pefore you,
Half tead for want of trink,
Likewise for lofe of you, too,
Done up mit lofe and durst,
Und mit de two togeder,
I don't know vitch is vorst.

"And dou canst safe dy hero
From bitter Todespein,
If dou hast in de Keller
Only one Fass of wein.
Nay, doubt not - in my pocket
Is dot vitch brofes de man,
My bassport, und drei tavern bills
Against der Breitemann."

De laity she emprace him
Oontil he nearly bust.
"Potz-blitz!" gasp out der Breitmann,
"She is a squeezer - yust!"
De damé she vas vealty,
Likewise an orphan too,
Mit a castel und a titel,
So Breitmann put it troo.

So soon the paar vere marrit,-
Hei! vot a dimes dey had!
Hei! how dey life togeder
So clorious und clad!
Now he has cot a titel
Dot was a Capitán;
Hier hat de tale ein Ende
Of Herr Count Breitemann.


ICH bin ein Deutscher, und mein name is Cobus Hagelstein,[83]
I coom from Cincinnàti, and I life peyond der Rhein;
Und I dells you all a shdory dot makes me mad ash blitz,
Pout how a Yankee gompany vas shvindle me to fits.

I heardt apout dis gompany, und vished to see dot same,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft vos ids name;
Dot is de name in Sherman - in English it will say
Dot it insures your life mit fire, ven you de money pay.

Now, I hod a liddle house-line vhere I life so shtill ash mice,
Und yoost drei tausand dollar vos dot little pilding's brice;
I vos always yoost so happy ash ein Kaisar in de land
Dill at last I kit in drople, for mein haus vas abgebrannt.

Den I goes undo dot gompany und dells em right afay
(Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft), und I say,
"At last de youngest day ist coom for you to plank de cash,
And you moost bay me monies, for mine haus is purned to ash."

Den de segredary answered, "All dis is fery drue,
Boot you know ve have de option to pild your house anew;
Dere ist a lot of beoples vot burns deir hauser doun,
Den coom to kit de money pack all over in de toun."

I look indo de bapers und I find it ash he say,
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft need not bay;
So I dells em all to go ahet und pild anoder shdore,
Und dey make me von in Yankee shdyle more petter ash pefore.

Den I met der segredary dereafter on a day,
Of Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, und he say,
"You've found oos vellers honoraple und honest in our line,
Vy tont you go insure de life of Madame Hagelstein?"

I poots mine dum oopon mine nose, and vinks him mit mine eye,
Und says I cooms to do it ven de océan runs dry,
Ven gooses turn to ganders, und de bigs kits shanged to shvine;
Oh, den I makes insure de life of Madame Hagelstein.

"I haf dried you on insurance, ash you know, yust vonce pefore,
Und ven mein haus vas abgebrannt you pild anoder shdore;
Id's drue you pild it goot enough, boot I dell you allaweil,
I vas liket id moosh petter if it vas in Sharman shdyle.

"Now, if I goes insure my wife anoder dime mit you
Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, I knows vot it would
If from dis vorldt Frau Hagelstein should rise to Himmel life,
Inshtead of paying gelt you'd kit for me a Yankee vife!"

I poots mine dum pelow mine eye, und vinks him merrily,
Und say, "Go find soom Deutscherman dot is more creen ash me.
Dere's blendy of dem creen enough, I know, peyond der Rhein,
But none among dem wears de name of Cobus Hagelstein."



ASH on de Alapama biz,
Deep sinnin long I sat,
I dinks von ding for dinkin
Py afery Diplomat;
Und dat ist: dat voll many a ding
Vot ist de facto done,
May pe de jure unbossible,
Und officiél unknown,

Von dimes in San Franciscus,
Im Californian land,
Among de Californaments
Dere woned a Deutscher band;
Und shief among dese heroes
Dere shone Herr Fritzerl Schnall,
Who nefer vouldt pelief in nichts
Dat vas not lōgicál.

Vell den: von tay as Fritzerl
Vas valk Dolores Shtreet,
Mein Gott! how he vas over-rush
Ein gut oldt friendt to meet;
Hans Liederschnitz aus Augsburg,
Vot professed in Bayrisch bier-
"Gottskreuz! du alter Schlingel!"
Cried Fritz: "Was mochst du hier?"

Now in des dimes I scribe of,
Dree ways der vere bakannt,
Und only dree, to get to
Das Californigen Landt.
De virst de Plains coom ofer;
De next, de Istmoos troo;
De dird aroundt Cape Horné,
All ofer de ocean plue.

But de first lot of surveyors
For de railroad overland,
Vas seek a new vay northwarts,
All for de Eisenbahn,
Und mit dem, der professor
Of Lager vent along;
So he kommed to San Franciscus,
Und den into dis song.

But ash unto Herr Fritzerl
Dis news vas unerheard,
He couldt not know de tidings
Wherevon he had no vord;
Und derefore dis here quesdion
He makes to Hans: "Old hoss,
I kess de vay you kit hier,
You kommed de Blains agross?"

"Nein, nein," sayt Liederschnitzerl;
"I komm not ash you say."
"Vell, den," antworded Fritzerl,
"It pe's anoder vay.
If you komm de Blains not über,
I see vot you hafe do:
You make an longer um-way
Und gross de Istmoos troo."

"Nein, nein," acain saidt Schnitzerl,
"Dat road I nefer know,
Und vas not ride de Istmoose!"
Cried Fritz, erstaunisched, "SO
You komm de Blains not über,
Nor gross de Istmoose troo?
Vell, den - to make de Horn aroundt
Vas all dat you could do!"

"I shvears py Gott!" says Schnitzerl,
"So sure as you vas porn,
Exshept oopon some ochsen
I nefer saw a horn.
Dat ish - mitwiles, too - while-en--
I hafe von in mine hand,
Und trink to dy Gesundheit,
Im lieben Vaterland."

Erstaunished stoot der Fritzerl:
No wort herout brought he:
Und sinned, und sinned - den sighftserd.
"Potz blitz! how vash dis pe?"
Ontill a light from Himmel
Vlash down into him shtraight,
Ash Heafen in Yacob Böhme
Vlash from a bewter blate.

Den laut he cry, eye-shbarklin,
Ash droonk mit Truth tifine,
Like der Wahrheitseher Novalis:
"Herr Gott! es leuch't mir ein!
If you komm de Blains not over,
Nor py Horn, nor py canál,
Den I shwears you dis, Hans Schnitzerl,
Du bist not here at all!"


Go in for Wahrheit,
Und for Pure Reason seek;
If it land you in a pog-hole,
Den die dere - like a brick!
Gott brosber all logikers,
Und pless deir nople breed;
Und so ist komm zu ende
Dis Breitmanns letzte Lied.


DOT vos a schwartz Zigeuner[84]
Dot on a viddle played,
Und oonderneat' a fenster
He mak't a serenade.

Dot vos a lofely gountess
Who heardt de gypsy blay'n.
Said she, "Who make dot musik
Vot sound so wunderscheen?"

Dot vos de schwartz Zigainer
Who vos fery quick to twig;
Und he song a mournvoll pallad
How his hearts vos proken - big!

Dot vos de lofely gountess
Said, "Dell me who you are?"
He saidt, "Mein name is Janosch,
De Lord of Temesvar."

Dot vos de lofely gountess
Said, "Come more near to me,
I vants to dalk on piz'ness:
I'll trow you down de key."

Dot vos de moon kept lightin'
De gountess in her room,
Boot somedings moost have vrighten
De minstrel tid not coom.

Dot vos a treadfool oudgry
Ven early in de morn
Dey foundt de hens vos missin,
Und all de wash vos gone!

Dot vos a schwartz Zigeuner
Vot sot oopon de dirt
A-eatin roasted schickens
All in a new glean shirt.



FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
Dey say dere comes a dorn.
Boot let dem say yoost vot dey will,
Dis ding I will soopose,
I'll immer prick mein finger still,
If I may pfluck die Ros'.
Ach, Rosalein, du schöne mein,[85]
Dot man vas nefer born
Vot did deserfe to win de Rose,
Vot couldt not stand de Dorn.

Blutfärbig ist die schöne Ros',[86]
Und dot ist yoost a sign
Dot I moost lose a liddle Blut
To make de Rosé mein.
Wer Rosen bricht die Finger sticht;
Das ist mir ganz égal,
Der bricht sie auch in Winter nicht,
Und kits no Rose at all.
Was wir hier treiben und kosen, love,
De joy or misery,
Soll bleiben unter der Rosen, love!
Und our own secret pe![87]


Von Dorn ride out in hoonting gear,
Mit his horse und his Hundé too,
Und his mutter she say,
"Bring home a deer,
Mein Sohn, votefer you do!"
"You know, gewiss, dot I nefer miss,
Und ven you hear mine horn,
Pe sure dot a deer is comin' here,"
Said der Ritter Veit von Dorn,
Mit his deer so fein, tra la la la!
Mit his deer so fine, tra lé!
Tra la la - tra la la la!
Tra la la - la la lé!

Von Dorn he ridet im greenen wood
Till dere, peneat a dree,
He sah a maid wie Milch und Blut.
As fair ash a maid could pe.
Und der Ritter he spies her great plack eyes,
"Id's petter, I'll pe shwore,
To hafe a dear oopon two feet
Dan von dot roons on four.
Mit a deer so fein, tra la la la!
Mit a deer so fine, tra lé!
Tra la la - tra la la la!
Tra la la - la de lé!

Der Ritter ridet pack to home:
"Ach, mutter - all ist goot;
I prings you here de finest dear
In all de greené woot."
De mutter she looks, mit joy surprise,
"Hast Recht, mein lieber Sohn;[88]
Dere vas nefer a deer vot hafe soosh eyes
Ash de dear vot you hafe won!"
Mit her eyes so plack, tra la, la la!
Mit her eyes so plack, tra lé!
Tra, la, la - tra la, la, la!
Tra la la - la de lé!

Nota bene. - Dis song moost pe sung mit exbression.


VEN de winter make oos shifer
Und de bonds is froze mit ice,
To shlide und shkate on de rifer,
Mit de poys und gals is nice.
Ven de horses hafe deir bits on,
Und de roats pe vite mit shnow,
To vly in a sleigh like blitzen
Is de yolliest dings I know.

"Und its high, hooray!" saidt Breitmann
"For de gals on de Dutchtown-side;
Und it's lebe hoch! for de yunglins,
Vot'll go mit de gals to ride;
Und it's hip, herjé! for de drifers
Vot nefer dake no odds!
Und it's vivat! for de vellers,
Vot'll shtand de apple-tods!"

Der Breitmann pooled his mits on,
Der Breitmann crocked his vip,
"Now its fly like dunner blitzen,
Mein shildren, let 'er rip!
Like de eagles on de shtorm-cloudt
A-vlyin' to deir nest;
Dere is opple-yack a-vaitin
For de von dot times de rest.

"Oh mein Rapp, du bist de pestest
Of horses in de land!
Dou canst trafel on de grafel,
Und canst shell it on de sand!
Oh Rapp! - dere's money on id,
Ton't let de Gelt go blue!
I vants you show de beoples
Dis tay vot you can do!"

Der Breitman mit his mädchen
Vas in a shblentit shleigh,
Fritz Laufer mit his Mina,
Vas yoosht agross de vay;
Mit pop-slets und mit yoompers,
Mit horses and mit mules,
Dere vas more ash vifty fellers
Come mit deir ve-hi-cules.

Id's "Ein-Zwei-Drei!" togedder
Dey hollered klein und gross,
Like de wind in shtormy wetter,
Stracks vent de Deutschers los!
Dey crock de vips like mooskets,
Dey ring from berg to berg,
"Hooray!" exsglaim Hans Breitmann:
"Dot sounds like Gettysburg!"

Der Breitmann und der Laufer
Vere half a mile ahet,
For ven id coom to driven,
De oder Dootch vere deadt.
Dey vly like teufel's arrows,
Mit imps oopon em gay,
Dey killt five hoondred shbarrows
Vot kit indo de vay.

Dey vly like rats und blitzen,
De fery gals vos doomb,
Und Breitmann kept his wits on,
To see vot shanse vouldt coom;
He know'd de pace dey clipped it
Moost enden in a shquall
By de vay der Laufer ripped it,
Und de shteeds vere ganz egál.

Der Laufer he vos leadin'
Hans Breitmann ash he goed,
Boot he tidn't see a soplin'
Dot vos lyin' in de road.
Id yank dem out like marples,
Mitout a will or shall;
Hets downvarts in a shnow-pank,
Vent Laufer mit his gal.

Und ash Breitmann comed oonto it
Id kit indo his vay,
Und tossed him mit his mädchen
Right indo Laufer's shleigh;
Hans crab de reins like blitze',
Und go ahet like sin:
"Adjé, mein lieber Fritze![89]
Dis dimes I scoop you in!"

He vly avay like shvallows
To vhere a davern lay,
Vhere de opple-tod vos ploomin'
Among de Deutschers gay.
Der Breitmann as he vonisht
Yoost cast von look pehind,
At de lecks of Fritz - und Mina-
A-vafin in de wind.

Homburg vor der Höhe, Hesse-Nassau,
1, 1888.


IT was stiller, dimmer twilight - amber toornin' into gold,
Like young maidens' hairs get yellow und more dark as dey crow
Und dere shtood a high ruine vhere de Donau rooshed along,
All lofely, yet neclected - like an oldt und silent song.

Out shpoke der Ritter Breitmann, "Ven I hafe not forgot,
Ich kenn an anciendt shtory of dis inderesdin shpot,
Of the Deutscher Middleolter vot de Minnesingers sung,
Ven dot olt ruine oben vas a-bloomin, fair, und yung.

"Vonce dere lifed a noble fraülein - fery peautiful vas she,
More ash twendy dimes goot lookin - it is in de historie;
Und mit more ash forty quarters on her woppenshield,[90] dot men
Might beholdt mitout a discount she vas of de upper ten.

"But dough lofely as an angel, mit eyes of turkos plue,
She vas cruel ash a teufel, und de vorst man efer knew.
Vonce ven a nople young one kneeled down to her mit lofe,
She kicket him mit her slipper und oopset him on de shtove.

"Und said, 'I do refuse you, as you may plainly see;
Und from dis day henseforvart mine refuse you shall pe,
Und when I do run afder you like dogs run afder men,
Den I vill pe your vife, yung man - boot keep avay dill denn!'

"He lishten to her crimly, and no single vort he said,
Boot de bitter dings she spoken poot der teufel in his head;
For she hafe not learned de visdom, vich is alvays safe and
'Don't go to pourin' water on a mouse ven id ist trowned.'

"Vonce, at de end of autoom, ven de vind vos bitter cold,
Dis maiden out a-ridin' met a voman poor and old;
Her feets vere bare and pleedin', and she said, 'Ah! ton't refuse
To gife me, nople lady, yoosht de vorst of your oldt shoes!'

"De lady boorst out laughin', 'Fool here, or fool me dere,
You give to me a couple, I gives to you a pair.'
Denn she rode avay a-laughin'; de old voman says 'I wete,
I'll give you shoes, my lady, dot vill fit your soul and feet!'

"Dis voman vas a vitchè, an bitter one dere to,
All dot vot she had shpoken she light enough could do;
De Ritter did not know it, but he told her of his love,
And how dot shkornful lady hat oopset him mit de shtove.

"Out spoke de grimme witchè, 'She shall pay dee well to
If yo pring to me de measure of dat lady's liddle foot.'
He got it from her shoemaker, and gafe id to de vitch,
Denn she gafe it to de damsel pooty soon as hot as pitch.

"Von morn de lofely lady, on openin' her toor,
Found de nicest pair of gaiter boots she efer saw pefore;
Dey vitted her exoctly - mitouten any doubt-
Boot, mein Gott! how she vas shrocken ven dey 'gun to valk

"Und ash de poots go valkin', like de buds go mit de stem,
It vollowed dot de lady had to valk apout in dem.
Dey took her out into de street - dey run her on de road,
Bym-by she saw a man ahead vot led her vhere she goed.

"Vhen he vent valkin' longsome denn longsome vas her pace,
Vhen he roon like a greyhound she skompered in a race;
He led her o'er de moundains und cross de lonely plain,
Until de evenin' shadows, ven he took her home again.

"Denn she dink mit hate and fury of dis man she used to skoff,
Und den go at de gaiters - boot she couldn't pull dem off,
She vork mit all de servants, boot 'tvasent any use,
Und so she hafe to go to bett - a-shleepin' in her shoes.

"Next mornin' off dey shtarted, apout de broke of day,
Den he led her to a castle in de woods and far away,
And shpeak to her, 'My lady - I dink at last you see
Dat de dime has come in earnesdt vhen you've cot to vollow me!'

"Oh vat ish female nature? Oh vat ish mortal pride?
How all dot shtands de firmest most quickly shlips aside
De cloudts dot o'er de moundains look shkornful at de plain,
Ere long mit shtormy wetter come toomble down in rain.

"So de storm-cloud of Superbia vhich shweep her soul above,
Vas meltet mit his shternness and be-turnèd into love,
As his words like donner wetter croshed ven de lightnin' flies,
So downward coom de torrents of dear trops from her eyes.

"Und she gry, 'Mit shame I own it, to say de fery least,
I gonfess dat in dis matter I hafe acted like a peast;
Ven I made of you my refuse, I dinked it no account,
But now de pack is on my back it seems a big amount.

"'But if you vish to ved me, I vill do vat you require.
He answered, 'Now you're talkin' - dot is yoost vot I
For I am very willin', and you do not refuse,
Boot remember vot you bromised - send de vitch a pair of shoes!'

"She answered, 'I vill follow verever you may go,
All ofer hills and falleys, in sunshine, rain, or schnow,
All over in der Welt, dear, I'll vander on vith thee,
I do not care how rough de road or dark de path may be!

"'Or in de bloomin' meadows, vhere de grass is soft and sweet,
Or in de rocky passes, vhere de stones are under veet,
Or if I vear de shoes, love, vitch you hafe given me,
Or if I moost go barefoot, is all de same to me.'

"He drew away de gaiters. She said, 'As I'm rich
I vill fill dem both mit money, and take dem to de vitch.'
Ja wohl, she saw die Hexe, and takin' her aside,
She danked her for de lesson vot hat dook avay her pride.

"On de vay vhen dey vere married, how vere dey all erstaun
To see a lofely lady come in mit golden crown,
All in a rosy-silken dress vot shined as pright as glass,
Said, 'My dears, I am de vitch dot fetch dis ding to pass.

"'You know I look so ogly vonce, und now am peautiful,
Dot ist de vay dot all dings vork ven folks pe dutiful.
Ash de lily toorns to vhitey vot once vas dirty green,
So all ist fair ven virdue ist runnin' de machine.'"

Dis is de vondrous shtory vot de Ritter Breitmann told
Besides the rooshin' Danube of de schloss so grey und old,
Vhile a shmokin' of his meerschaum; und till all time pe gone
The rustlin' of de vasser tells de tale for ever on.

Dat is an alt legende, und yet 'tis efer new,
Und to efery von dot hears it it fits yoost like a shoe.
Und dis de shinin' moral dot in de oyster lies-
Some day you may roon after de dings you vonce despise!

Vienna, 1888.


THIS Glossary was prepared entirely by Mr. NICHOLAS TRÜBNER.
am not aware that he had any assistance in writing it. I mention
this because I have never met with any person who was so equally
familiar with obscure and obsolete old German facetious
literature (as the text indicates), and at the same time with
Americanisms. I should say that in all of the later ballads, or
at least in fully one half of all in the book, the author was
indebted to him for ideas, suggestions, and emendations, and that
the work would never have been what it is - sit verbo
- but
for him. Mr. Trübner was a poet, even in English, as his
translation from Scheffel's poems indicates. A very few words
have been added to explain the poems in the ballads which appear
for the first time in this edition.


Abenddämmerung,(Ger.) - Evening dim light; twilight.
Abendgold,(Ger.) - Evening gold.
Abendroth,(Ger.) - Evening red.
Abendsonnenschein,(Ger.) - Evening sunshine.
Abbordez-moi vodre mére,(German-French) - Bring me
your mayor.
Ach weh,(Ger.) - Oh, woe.
Allatag,(Ger. dial.) - Every day.
Alla weil - All the while; always.
Allegader - All together.
Alles wird ewig zu eins,(Ger.) - And all for ever becomes
Alter Schwed',(old Swede) - A familiar phrase like "old
Anamile,(Amer.) - Animal.
Annerthalb Yar, Anderthalb Jahr,(Ger.) - Year and a half.
Anti Word: Antwort - Answer.
Antworded,(Ger.) - Answered.
Apple-tod,(Amer.) - Apple toddy. Spirit distilled from
Arbeiterhalle - Working-man's hall.
Arminius,(Herman.) - The Duke of the Cheruskans, and
destroyer of
the Roman legions under Varus, in the Teutoburg Forest.
Armlos - Unarmed.
Aroom, Herum - Around.
Arrière pensée,(Fr.) - A reserved thought or
Aufgespannt,(Ger.) - Stretched, bent.
Augen,(Ger.) - Eyes.
Augenblick,(Ger.) - Twinkling of an eye.
Aus,(Ger.) - Out.

Bach,(Ger.) - Book.
Baender-box - Band-box.
Baldface corn,(Amer.) - Plain maize whisky.
Barell-hell pars - Parallel-bars; a part of the gymnastic
Barrick,(Pennsylvania Ger. for Berg) - Mountain.
Bauern,(Ger.) - Peasants.
Be-ghostet,(Ger. Begeistert) - Inspired.
Begifted, - Beschenkt - Gifted.
Begreifen,(Ger.) - Understand.
Beheaded, Behauptet,(Ger.) - Asserted.
Bei Leib und Leben,(Ger.) - By my body and soul.
Bekannt, Beknown - Known.
Bellin,(Ger. Bellen) - To bark.
Bemarket,(Ger.-Eng.) - Remarked.
Be-mark,(Ger. Bemarken) - Observe.
Bemarks,(Ger. Bemerkungen) - Remarks.
Bemerkbàr,(Ger.) - Observable. Should be noticed.
Bemoost,(Ger.) - Mossgrown, in student's language, ein
, an old student.
Bender,(Amer.) - A spree; a frolic. To "go on a
bender" -
to go on a spree.
Be-raised - Raised, with the augment, literal for Ger.
Berauscht,(Ger.) - Intoxicated.
Besoffen,(Ger.) - Drunk.
Bestimmung des Menschen - Vocation of Man, title of one
of Fichte's works.
Betaubend,(Ger.) - Enchanting.
Bewises,(Ger. Beweist, from Beweisen) -
Bibliothek - Library.
Bienenkorb,(Ger.) - Beehive.
Birra gazzosa,(Italian) - Aerated, gaseous beer.
Bischof,(Ger.) - Bishop.
Bix Büchse,(box) - Rifle. Bess in Brown Bess is the
of the German Büchse, (Brown being merely an
epithet;) French, buse tube; Flemish, buis.
found in blunderbuss, arquebuss.) See Blackley's "Word
Blaetter,(Ger.) - Leaves.
Blei - Lead.
Blitz,(Ger.) - Lightning.
Blitzen,(Ger.) - Lightning.
Blokes,(English) - Men.
Bock - A strong kind of German beer.
Boemisch - Bohemian.
Boerenvolk,(Flem.) - Peasants.
Bole Jack road - Near Murfreesboro, Tennessee.
Bool - Bull.
Bornirtheit - Limitedness of capacity.
Bouleverse - Boulevard.
Bountiee,(Amer.) - Bounty-money paid during the war as a
to soldiers. To jump the bounty, was to secure the
premium and
then run away.
"This is the song of Billy Jones,
Who jumped the boun-ti-ee."
- American Ballad of 1846.
Bowery - A street at New York, inhabited principally by
Branntewein,(Ger.) - Spirits.
Brandy smash,(Amer.) - A plain half-glass mint julep of
sugar,ice, spirits, and mint. A regular julep is larger,
contains more ingredients.
Brav,(Ger.) - Good.
Breit,(Ger.) - Broad.
Bring it down to dots - Reduce it to figures.
Brisner - Prisoner.
Broosh-pinder - Brushbinder,(Ger. Buerstenbinder.)
Brushmaker. The brushmakers are supposed, probably on
of their throat-parching business, to be always thirsty.
Brummed - growled - (Ger. Brummen).
Brücke,(Ger.) - Bridge.
Bugs - In America all insects, especially Coleoptera.
Bummer,(Amer.) - A fellow haunting low taverns; applied
the late civil war in the United States to hangers-on of
army. Probably a corruption of the German
Bumming - From Bummer.
Bushwhackers - Guerillas.
Bust his shell - Broke his head.
Butterbrod,(Ger.) - Buttered bread.
By-Nearly; Beinahe - Almost, nearly.

Came - Game.
Camine - Chimney-piece.
Canyon,(Span. Cañon) - A narrow passage
between high and
precipitous banks, formed by mountains or tablelands,
with a river running beneath. These occur in the great Western
prairies, New Mexico, and California.
Carmagnole - A wild street dance.
Carmosine,(Ger.) - Crimson. French, cramoisoi.
Carnadine - Incarnadine.
Change their lodge - Shift from one "society" to another.
Chroc, Chrocus, Crocus - An Alemannic leader, who overran
according to Gregory of Tours.
Chunk - A short thick piece of wood, or of anything else;
a chump.
The word is provincial in England, and colloquial in the
Cinder - Suende; sin.
Clam - The popular name of a bivalvular shell-fish, the
Clavier,(Ger.) - Piano.
Colle belle,(Ital.) - With the beauties.
Comedy - Committee.
Conradin - The last of the imperial house of the
Hohenstaufen -
beheaded at Naples in 1268.
Coot - (To cut) a dash, (to come out a "swell,")
to dress extravagantly.
Corned,(Amer.) - Made drunk.
Coster - The inventor of the art of printing, according
to the Dutch.
Crate - Great.
Crecian pend - When Breitmann says "Dat pend of the bow
the Crecian pend," it is a rather eqivocal compliment.
"Grecian bend" has lately become a common newspaper
expression. Smuggling done by women is called a "Case of
Grecian bend." The present style of skirt, full at the
is favourable to it.
Crislies - Grisly,(bear.)

Da ist er! Schau! - There he is! look!
Damit,(Ger.) - Therewith.
Dampfschiff - Steamboat.
Deck - A pack of cards, piled one upon another.
Demperanceler, Temperenzler - Temperance man.
Dessauerinn - A woman from Dessau.
Deutschland - Germany.
Die Hexe - The witch.
Die wile as möhte leben - During all its life.
Daz wolde er immer dienen
Die wile es möhte leben.
- Kutrun. XV. Aventiure, 756th verse.
Dink - he, they think; my dinks - my thoughts.
Dinked - he, they thought.
Dishtriputet - Instead of attributed.
Dissembulatin' - Dissembling.
Dissolfed - Instead of resolved.
D'lusion - Instead of allusion.
Donnered,(Ger.) - Thundered.
Donnerwetter,(Ger.) - Thunder and lightning.
Dooks - Ducks.
Doon - Tune.
Doonderblix - Thunder and lightning.
Dorn - A thorn. Dorn lieder - Thorn-songs.
Drawed he in - (literal rendering of the German Zog er
Dreimal,(Ger.) - Three times.
Drocks - Drakes, dragons; (Ger. Drachen.)
Druckerei - Printing-office.
Dummehrlichkeit,(Ger.) - Honest simplicity.

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