Page:The Reminiscences of Carl Schurz (Volume One).djvu/50

 father and “Ohm Rey,” the husband of a sister of my mother's, a wideawake and jovial man, who owned a large farm about an hour's walk from Liblar. This circle met often in happy social intercourse. The conversation at such times was by no means restricted to local topics, nor to the transaction of every-day business. These men read newspapers, took an interest in all that happened in the outer world, and discussed, if not with thorough knowledge, at least with eager interest and sympathy, the events that moved humanity at large. Not seldom was I present at these talks, leaning against the arm of my father's chair or crouching unnoticed in the corner of the room, a silent and receptive listener. Here it was that I first heard of the struggles of Abdel-Kader in Algiers and of the hero Schamyl in the Caucasus; of the repeated attempts upon the life of Louis Philippe in France and the Carlist wars in Spain, with the generals of high-sounding, musical names, and—what especially excited me—of the imprisonment of the Archbishop of Cologne for Jesuitic conspiracies against the Prussian Government. And so on. Much of what I heard was at first to me little more than mere sound. Still I asked many questions, which were answered by my father and by my uncles as well as they could. And although perhaps the mind of the boy thereby acquired but little clear understanding of things, the feeling took early root in me that we in our little village were a part of a great world, the affairs of which concerned us, too, and demanded our attention and sympathy.

In this family circle I also heard for the first time about America. A peasant family of our village, by the name of Trimborn, emigrated to the United States. I still have before my eyes the picture of their departure. One afternoon a wagon loaded with trunks, boxes and household utensils started from a neighboring cottage; the village-folk wished good luck to