Today we have another story by Helene. We learn about her parents and grandparents and about life for Jews in Bohemia in the early to middle part of the 19th century. As with many of her stories, Helene uses the pseudonym “Lenow” for her father’s name of “Löwy.” She does not change the names of any of the other people mentioned in the story. Helene must have written this based on memories of stories her mother had told her.
From the realms of the shadows
In a comfortable armchair there sat a small, slender woman, who was about forty years old and was staring off into space as if lost in thought. Her hands, which had made fine lace, were in her lap for the moment, and her narrow feet, wearing black velvet slippers that she had made herself, were resting on a footstool that had also been made by her nimble, clever hands. A pair of dark, expressive eyes livened up her pale face, which was surrounded by shiny jet-black hair which she, following the fashion of the time, adorned with a fresh violet or a small black lace cap. It wasn’t really a matter of vanity or an obsession with dressing up, but her elegant head was, in a sense, her display, since as a well-known milliner she could expect visits hourly from the ladies who were her customers. She had few male clients in the little town of Weseritz near the well-known spa towns of Karlsbad [in Czech, Karlovy Vary] and Marienbad [Mariánské Lázně], whose summer spa guests were the mainstay of her client base. The products made by her busy hands were nothing less than her trademark, and she always had enough orders to support herself and her four children. Her husband was a short, grumpy man who was very obstinate. Because of the laws concerning Jews in Austria, it was difficult for him to pursue any other profession besides that of a Jewish businessman. Jews had to wander from one place to another to trade their wares for other items. Even if these difficult living conditions had not been their lot, David Kraus would not have liked to pursue any other profession. He was much too lazy, and he loved to travel and be independent. Probably this explains why he got married. He earned just enough to get by; he probably lived well enough and let his wife take care of the house and raising the children. She took care of all that, and he only came home for Jewish holidays or at times of the year which were unfavorable for traveling salesmen. He didn’t show any particular affection for his wife or children; he loved only himself. He did fear God.
It rankled him that his wife was smarter than he was; it was a blow to his vanity. He tried, unsuccessfully, to show her who was the boss, but she gave him no opportunity to do so. During his short visits home (the house and all that was in it were the property of his wife Babette), everything went just the way he wanted, and if he was harsh and unfair to the children, she just put up with it, suffering and uncomplaining, because any criticism would just have exacerbated his morose ways. She even managed to have the children show him respect as their father – which they really had no reason to do – by setting a good example.
He criticized everything she did. To him, her preference for making her home cozy was “foolishness”. To impress her, he exaggerated his piousness by observing religious commandments in a way so orthodox that it was even more papal than a Jewish pope could have been. This, too, she accepted, in order to avoid any arguments.
What had led this woman, who was fairly well off, to this man, who was not a bad man, yet unpleasant and disagreeable? Even her brother – her only relative – was puzzled by this. His well-justified and unbiased criticism of his future brother-in-law, whom he advised her not to marry before he could even know that his sister’s fiancé would leave all the child rearing to her, led to the estrangement of brother and sister. Babette had probably found out that David Kraus, the son of a neighbor, would not be an ideal husband, but did not listen to her brother. She had said yes to the neighbor’s son, and that was that. Her brother got a job as a secondary school teacher in Brünn [Brno] and married soon after. In 1833, the distance from Weseritz to Brünn was much greater than when the train came through, an event which the rural population watched with amazement, while they crossed themselves.
A knock on the door roused Mrs. Babette Kraus from her thoughts. She called out, “Come in”, and in came a tall young man. In the daytime, the gate leading from the street to the lobby was left open for the comfort of her customers. The young man was well dressed. His high forehead, with an unruly lock of black hair, and his smiling eyes, his fine nose and his sensitive mouth lent an irresistible quality to his appearance. He bowed down and greeted her:
“Good morning, Mrs. Kraus. Am I bothering you?”
“No, never, Teacher.”
“I do have an excuse for my intrusion so early on a Sunday morning. Late last night, I received a letter from your oldest son, Karl, in Prague, which I would like to take to the train station before the evening train departs. He wrote that he would soon be taking his first business trip representing his coffee import business. He does not want to let the opportunity to make a short visit here slip by, because he wants to see you and also run an idea by you. With your permission, he would like to take his sister Rosa back to Prague to show her the city and have her spend a few weeks there. In the same building where the business is located, and where his boss also lives, he has been offered the use of a large separate room. Surely Rosie would feel most comfortable staying with him there. Since the trip would last several weeks, they would have plenty of time to get his young sister dressed up beautifully.
I know, Mrs. Kraus, that you will really miss your young daughter’s company and help around the house, yet I hope that you will honor my young friend’s wishes and give this plan your blessing. I don’t think I am wrong in assuming that your motherly love will let you make this sacrifice so that the young lady can become acquainted with the capital city which is so deserving of its name, Zlata Praha [Golden Prague].”
“I also got a letter from him. He did not, however, make any mention of the intentions he confessed to you. He reported that he has a higher position, well paid, with the company where he began as an apprentice six years ago. Here is the letter; you can read it for yourself.”
The young man read that his friend Karl was asking his mother not to work so much anymore; her millinery work could just be her hobby, since he was earning enough to cover the costs of her small household without causing him any personal limitations. His room was provided as part of his salary, and since he lived in the same house as his employer, he ate almost all of his meals with him. The employer has no children, and the boss’s wife was very pleased that his young sister would be visiting for a few weeks. As she put it: “Of course she will have a little room in our house, and she will spend the day with me. What else would she do all day? Neither you nor my husband knows how long you will have to work.”
Karl said: “Don’t worry about my brothers Albert and Simon. They are lazy rascals, but they are actually good boys. I’ll let you know what I have in mind for them when I see you. Stay healthy, Mother.”
During this conversation, Babette and the young teacher were alone. The boys strolled around, and her daughter Rosa was doing errands.
Nobody heard her return. It wasn’t until she, delighted, said: “Good morning, Teacher” that the young man stood up and shook hands with the little person. After she had kissed her mother on the forehead, she left the room and went into the kitchen next door. A few minutes later, the smell of fresh coffee came into the room. Young Rosa, wearing an apron, came in to remove three coffee cups, saucers, a sugar bowl and a milk pitcher, which she put on a tray. She pushed a small table over to the armchair where her mother sat; the guest helped her by spreading out the tablecloth and placing the coffee service on it while she took the coffeepot back into the kitchen.
W.A. Lenow [Adolf Löwy] opened his nostrils wide to take in the fragrance of the delicious drink.
“Miss Rosa, which god provided you with this nectar?”
“It was only a demi-god, our Karl. The package which arrived yesterday contained not only this splendid coffee blend, but also one of those Karlsbad style kettles, and instructions for making the coffee. Mother and I couldn’t get enough of it. I just realized that I made a big mistake by not pouring the coffee into the pot we use “only for special occasions.”
“I am delighted that you don’t consider me a “special occasion”, and so I am generously forgiving the faux pas of not receiving this drink of the gods in the prescribed manner from the preheated pot. Mrs. Kraus, I fear you will not let your daughter take that vacation, although I could certainly understand.”
Rosa then found out what the “vacation” was about. At first, she was very happy, but then she said that there was no way she could leave her mother. Both sons were busy with their jobs, and her mother would be alone almost all day. It wasn’t until the young teacher promised to keep her mother company every day after the daughter’s departure, and even to prepare and serve the coffee according to her instructions, to correct homework assignments there and to keep an eye on her two brothers and exhort them to ease their mother’s burden as much as possible, that the matter was decided. When Rosa’s brother picked her up a few weeks later, Wilhelm Adolf Lenow assumed his promised duties of friendly advisor, visitor and chess partner. The young girl’s enthusiastic letters and detailed descriptions were a source of great delight for Mrs. Kraus and her devoted young friend and helper.
A few weeks later he confessed to Mrs. Kraus that he was planning to ask for her daughter’s hand in marriage. His friend looked at him affectionately and said:
“Mr. Lenow, I am deeply moved by your offer, and if I had ever entertained the thought of a husband for my child (and Rosa still is a child), no other type than yours would have been considered. Rosa turned fifteen only half a year ago, and I think you must be about ten years older. That age difference would be fine if my daughter were older. I would not give my permission for marriage until she is eighteen years old. I married too young.”
When Adolf Lenow admitted that she was right and asked only to be accepted as her daughter’s fiancé, the clever woman only shook her head to say no. “I’m convinced my child would be very delighted and happy to know about this, but I want to avoid this. You are a young man in the prime of your life. If you truly love my daughter, and I don’t doubt that you do, it is possible that the time you would have to wait would seem too long to you, and you could berate yourself for acting too fast and tying yourself down too soon. I am too fond of you to think about you being in such a moral conflict. If you, in the meantime, were to see that I, a woman with more experience in these matters, am right about this, that would change nothing about our friendly relationship. Of course, my daughter must not find out about this discussion. You may discuss it with Karl.”
Adolf Lenow kissed his chess partner’s hand. “I respect and bow to your decision. In the meantime, I will look for a more lucrative position so that I will, after the period of time you have specified, be able to provide a more pleasant life for my wife.”
Exactly four years later, Adolf Lenow brought his bride to his home in Trblice [Teplice], where he had found a position as head teacher.
Incredibly, I have Rosa’s wedding ring. The night before my wedding in 1999, I stayed overnight with my mother. As we were talking about what my “something old” might be, she pulled out a little plastic box with a slim gold wedding band, engraved with Rosa and Adolf’s initials and the wedding date of 23 May 1867. I had never seen this ring and if my mother hadn’t shown it to me that day, it would have been a mystery when I finally came across it. An aside: when we were trying to decide on a style of wedding band, my husband and I looked at a number of unusual styles, finally settling on a simple gold band with our initials and wedding date engraved inside - just like Rosa’s ring. When I saw her ring, I realized we had made exactly the right choice!
Coffee played an important role in my grandmother’s life. Her uncle the coffee merchant introduced his sister’s family to its charms. When my grandmother went to Vienna, she fell in love with café society.