p. 68The Farmer of Münster

The Missionsblatt for 1852 gave a series of interesting contributions under the title of “The Red Farmer.” The subject of these sketches was a most excellent farmer in Münster, province of Westphalia, whom the young people called “The Red Farmer,” on account of an old-fashioned red coat in which he used to appear in town and at church. Many good and beautiful things are told of him in these sketches, which were written by his son, a priest, who speaks of his excellent father as follows:

“He was a good educator, although he followed only his own good common-sense, and had never in his life read a book on education. I was of a quick, excitable nature, and easily carried away by impulse. But my father knew how to curb my impulses and render me tractable by various humiliations. When I quarrelled with a servant or with any of my three brothers I would have to be the first to offer the hand of reconciliation if I would not fall under his displeasure, which I feared above all things. If I was angry about something and would neither eat nor speak, a strict order was given that no one should pay any attention to me. None should ask me what was the matter; none should ask me to eat; they were to leave me entirely alone, and not trouble themselves about me. This was an intolerable punishment, and I soon began to repent of my anger and stubbornness.”

“He scarcely ever had recourse to corporal punishment. He punished me as often as possible through myself by opposing me with the opposite of the fault by which I had offended. I was once sitting at the fire when he came home from the field; a young colt had been harnessed to be taught to work. My father thought I would be delighted to see them taming the spirited animal, and therefore invited me to go with him. But I was in an ill-humor because my mother gave me only a very small piece of bread and butter, and I replied that I did not want to go out. My father noticed my obstinacy and replied: ‘Well, then, if you do not want to accompany me you can stay where you are.’ I was soon after punished for not complying with his wish, as some hot water from the kettle spilled on my foot. But this was not all; in the afternoon I was anxious to go into the garden and get some pears. I asked my father, who was cleaning seed corn in the kitchen, if he would go with me and knock the pears from the tall pear tree in the garden. He answered: ‘I could easily spare the time, but at present I care as little to go out with you as you did this morning when I asked you to go out with me.’ Thus he showed me how petty and contemptible my stubbornness was.”

“Another time I was playing in the barn. My father came with the keys to fasten the doors, but I did not want to go out, and begged him to go away again and not spoil my fun. He gave me the reason why he wanted to close the doors just then and asked me again to come out. I did not regard the reasons and repeated my request to stay. What did he do? He shut the doors and left me there till evening without food or drink. At first it was not at all unpleasant, and I continued my sport. But after an hour, when the bell on the roof of the house called the folks to supper and I was terrified at the moaning of the wind, I became restless and tried to get out. But in spite of all my efforts I could scarcely move the heavy doors, much less open them. My cries frightened a great owl that with loud hoot and clatter flew out from under the roof. No one paid any attention to the little prisoner. Night was coming on and no rescuer appeared. My repentance through anxiety and terror reached the highest grade. Then, for the first time in my life, I learned to pray from my heart. I went on my knees and recited all the prayers I knew. At last my father came and opened the door. When I promised not to go against his will again he remained silent.”

“He seldom censured or blamed, and seldom resorted to positive punishment. He punished me through myself. He was accustomed in the long winter evenings to hold a kind of school. Once I showed reluctance to go into the room, and declared openly that I would rather remain with the servants and help cut turnips for the cattle. My two sisters followed my father very willingly. After a time I heard singing in the room. My father was teaching them the song ‘Prince Eugene, the Noble Knight,’ etc. I threw aside the knife with which I was cutting turnips, took my books and inkstand, and hastened to the room. It was locked, and I could not join in the amusements of the others. I sat down sadly on the step and bewailed my fault. But when the others came out and showed me the beautiful picture-book which my father had brought home from town that afternoon and given to them for their willingness to learn I almost died of sorrow. Thus was my self-will severely punished, and yet without the rod.”

“While he did not let my faults go unpunished he knew how to suitably reward me when I deserved it. When I had for several days distinguished myself by obedience and diligence I would know without being told why I received the reward which he gave in such a pleasant, kindly manner. To know that father was pleased with us was the sweetest of all rewards. At noon and in the evening he made, very cleverly too, all kinds of toys for us. Once he made a little wagon and harness so that we could make the big dog draw us about; another time he made a fiddle, with which we amused ourselves. For my sisters he made work-boxes, needle-cases, and cradles for their dolls. While he was thus employed we made ourselves busy holding the boards, etc., and giving our opinion as to the way in which the playthings ought to be made. He would always answer kindly our countless questions. If we pleased him we could stay with him while thus employed, but whoever fell under his displeasure received the order to go away and do some work elsewhere. p. 70And when all three of us had in any manner offended him then the work intended for our amusement was immediately stopped. He would treat us coldly, scarcely look at us, and appear as if he did not care for us. It is now thirty years since then, yet I can recall to mind how happy we were when our conduct met his approval, and how miserable we felt when through some fault we had lost his love and friendship.”

“Every Sunday afternoon we had to give an account of our work at school by showing our lessons and copy-books. If the teacher came to our house we had to go and meet him in a friendly manner and invite and accompany him into the room, when a strict investigation of our lessons and conduct would take place. Only then could we retire. When our parents showed great love and respect for the teacher it increased our esteem for him.”

“When I studied later at the gymnasium he continued the same strict control. When I came home in vacation I would be asked, even before I got my pack off my back, ‘Well, where is your testimonial? Let us see how it looks.’ I drew forth my report, which he examined with the greatest care and compared with the previous one, of which he kept a copy. If my progress was satisfactory he rejoiced exceedingly. Once I came home with a heavy heart, for my report began thus: ‘Conduct: good, but the pupil was punished once for an error.’ With a trembling hand I reached it to my strict judge, for I feared to be sent back again. Fortunately he made a mistake in reading it. Instead of reading, ‘Punished for an error,’ he read, ‘Punished through an error,’ and he considered this an apology on the part of the teacher for having punished me by mistake; and so I came well out of it. My teacher had long observed my reverence and awe for my father, and he knew well how to use them for my benefit by threatening to inform him if I was negligent or remiss. All other punishments were as nothing to me in comparison with this threat. Even after my father’s death this awe of him saved me in danger of sin when I remembered that he, in heaven, knew my conduct.”

“My father’s favorite recreation was to play with us children at noon and in the evening. Nuremberg toys were unknown to us, but we had our wooden horse, our wagon, our swings and see-saws, our bows and arrows, as well as the town children. My father took great pleasure in making these toys for us.”

“Every Sunday afternoon when the weather was fine we went with him and mother walking in the woods and fields. We used to call it ‘going around.’ How our little dog with his red collar ran hither and thither, while our parents followed us and took pleasure in answering our thousand questions! We then learned to observe not only the birds and flowers, but also the goodness and love of God in the waving grain. ‘Father,’ I once asked on one of these walks, ‘why does God make the stalk so slender that it can scarcely support the heavy ear?’ He answered: ‘Do you see that little bird? Now look; it tries to pick grain out of the ear, but when it lights on the stalk it bends down and its attempts are in vain.’ ‘Yes, yes; I now see that God has ordered it wisely. The bean-stalk can be thicker, because the birds cannot swallow the beans,’ I answered.”

“In like manner he taught us to admire the wisdom of God in the notches and joints of the stem, in the covering of the kernel, and in a thousand other things in nature. This afforded me great pleasure, which he would still more increase to my advantage. ‘Tell me, my child,’ said he, ‘why are you so glad?’ I answered, ‘It is such a beautiful day that the birds are glad, and why should I not be glad? We will have a good harvest, and plenty to eat, and some to divide with the poor. That is why I am glad. On every flower, on every stalk, on every ear shines the goodness and wisdom of God, as you taught me. Father, since it is so beautiful here, how much more beautiful will it be in heaven.’ Conversing thus together we came to the end of the field and sat down on the trunk of a tree, when my father taught me this prayer: ‘To serve thee, O Lord, is happiness: to live according to thy will causes greater joy and contentedness than all the gold and riches of the world.’”

“If after the usual family devotions there was time, we all, young and old, would have a game of some kind, generally a game of ball. At the father’s word, ‘Enough for to-day,’ the play was at an end.”

“Easter eve was the happiest time in my life. For two weeks previous we were busy gathering wood, briars, and straw, to have all ready for Easter Sunday. After having eaten our Easter eggs we would leave the house, my father with his prayer- and hymn-book, I with the pan of fire, the hired man with the pitchfork, and even the stable-boy was not absent on this occasion. He would bring up the rear of the procession dragging a long bean-pole after him, to add his share to the solemnity of the day by vigorously poking the fire to make the flame blaze up high, so that his companions on the next day could not make fun of him on the way to school. As soon as the fire was kindled we all marched around it, and father would start the hymn, ‘Christ is Risen,’ and other hymns, which we would all sing. You, dear reader, should have been there to have an idea of our joy and devotion. I have never in after life celebrated Easter without recalling to mind the joy and happiness I then felt, and wishing I could enjoy them once again.”

“As much as my father encouraged proper amusements and entertainments, and would prepare them for the members of his household, knowing that man needs them, yet he was not a friend of certain amusements that were customary at weddings, dancing parties, and carnivals. And though he was of the opinion that even the best regulated dancing parties did not amount to much he never condemned them indiscriminately. He preferred to take measures to lessen as far as possible the dangers which more or less accompany such entertainments, and gradually do away with them altogether.”

Let us now hear something of the religious life of this excellent father. His son, the priest, thus continues the narrative:

“In his bed-room was a clean white table, upon which stood a large crucifix which he had brought with him from Kevelaer. There was no kneeling-bench in front of the table, for he would kneel on the bare floor. Here he would pray for at least a quarter of an hour after having said night prayers with the members of the household in the kitchen, though tired and weary after the day’s work. In his prayers for others he in a special manner prayed for the parish, the welfare of which he had much at heart. His manner of praying was, like himself, natural and unaffected, and when at his devotions he was so absorbed in meditation that nothing could disturb him. He had his bed-room adorned with valuable steel engravings which he had received as memorials from the five former pastors of the parish, whom he had outlived. A small holy-water font and two much used but well preserved rosaries hung against the wall; those beads, he said, were about one hundred years old.”

“He received holy communion on the four great feasts of the year and on the festivals of the Blessed Virgin, so that he received about every six weeks. He prepared himself not only by fervent prayer, but he would on such occasions give more than his usual alms to some needy family or hand it to the pastor for distribution. He made two pilgrimages every year; one to the holy cross at Cresfeld, the other to Kevelaer. To persons who did not believe in pilgrimages he would say: ‘I am entirely of your opinion, that we can pray as well here as in any other place; but if we remain here we will not do it. In my younger days I also repeated the stupid proverb: People who do not want to work at home go to Holland to work, and those who do not want to pray at home go to Kevelaer to pray. But after I had been once at that holy place I was ashamed to have been so narrow-minded as to have said anything against so holy a practice.’ He saw with great joy the revival of this devout practice among Catholics.”¹1It is interesting to know that this worthy man was as excellent a farmer as he was a Christian, thus refuting those who think that true piety is incompatible with good business habits. He did not believe in following every whim of fashion, but as far as agriculture was concerned he was in favor of progress. He attended regularly the weekly meetings of an agricultural society of which he was a member, and adopted the methods recommended by it. Many sneered at his attempts and experiments, but only to imitate his example afterwards. A word or two in conclusion about his last moments. After having made his last will and testament he said: “Children, it is all over now; a few days more and you will carry me away. Pray for my poor soul.” To his son, who was preparing for the priesthood (the writer of the above sketch), he said, among other things: “Son, strive to follow the vocation you have freely chosen; honor your mother, and help your sisters by wise counsel.” In his address at the funeral the parish priest said: “We stand at the grave of a man of honor, whom I loved as a father; following good, time-honored customs, he gained by his example of moderation, temperance, justice, and purity the respect and veneration of all who knew him. Would that I were as sure of the eternal crown of happiness as he is. None of you who now stand at his grave could help honoring and respecting the deceased, and many of you are under great obligations to him.”