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Title: The city without Jews
A novel of our time
Author: Hugo Bettauer
Translator: Salomea Neumark Brainin
Release date: June 14, 2025 [eBook #76288]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: Bloch Publishing Company, 1926
Credits: Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, Joyce Wilson, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CITY WITHOUT JEWS ***
THE
CITY WITHOUT JEWS
A NOVEL OF OUR TIME
BY
HUGO BETTAUER
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
BY
SALOMEA NEUMARK BRAININ
[Illustration]
_Authorized English Translation_
BLOCH PUBLISHING COMPANY
NEW YORK 1927
COPYRIGHT, 1926, BY
BLOCH PUBLISHING CO., INC.
_International Copyrights Secured_
SECOND PRINTING
Printed in the U. S.
CONTENTS
PART I
CHAPTER PAGE
1. THE ANTI-JEWISH LAW 3
2. HERR SCHNEUZEL AND HIS SON-IN-LAW 23
3. AT CLOSING TIME 27
4. A SHOT 30
5. GIRLS AMONG THEMSELVES 35
6. DR. SCHWERTFEGER 39
7. A MIDDLE-CLASS VIENNESE HOME 48
8. “MY DEAR CHRISTIANS!” 57
PART II
1. LOTTE SPINEDER TO LEO STRAKOSCH, 22 RUE FOCH, PARIS 65
2. ROUGH WOOLENS--THE LATEST STYLE 72
3. THE OLD-TIMER 77
4. “SOMETHING HE CANNOT FINISH” 80
5. HENRY DUFRESNE 84
6. THE END OF THE TENANTS’ PROTECTIVE LAW 94
7. ZWICKERL GOES INTO BANKRUPTCY 99
8. THE SWEET, GAY YOUNG THINGS 105
9. THE END OF THE HAKENKREUZLER 109
10. CHEAP SUMMER-RESORTS 114
11. A STORMY DEBATE 121
12. THE LEAGUE OF TRUE CHRISTIANS 125
13. A MELANCHOLY CHRISTMAS 132
14. AN INFLAMMATORY SPEECH 137
15. HERR LABERL TURNS 144
16. “DOWN WITH THE GOVERNMENT!” 149
17. PREPARATIONS 156
18. THE ELECTION 165
19. A DISASTROUS DRINK 169
20. THE REPEAL OF THE ANTI-JEWISH LAW 177
21. “MY BELOVED JEW!” 186
INTRODUCTION
The City Without Jews! It sounds almost like a jest, a paradox. The
cosmopolitan will smile at the title; yet both Jews and Christians will
prick up their ears and wonder: “Does such a thing exist?”
Some will consider this book merely a clever fantasy. Still, the
reading of it will make them feel that _The City Without Jews_ is
symptomatic of our time.
One fine day a law is passed in the great city, Vienna (but it might
just as well have been New York or London), expelling all Jews from the
country. Not only Jews and converted Jews must leave, but also those of
Jewish origin: that is, the children of mixed marriages.
The law, which the most rabid Ku Klux Klansman, _Hakenkreuzler_, or
anti-Semite could not have conceived more skilfully even in his wildest
dreams, is rigorously enforced. “Unregistered merchants, retail-dealers
and so-called commission agents must leave the country within three
months of the passage of the law; registered proprietors of firms,
clerks, civil service employes, and manual laborers, within four
months; artists, scholars, physicians, attorneys and the like, within
five months. Directors of corporations, banks, and industries that paid
taxes on an income of more than two hundred million kronen in the past
year, are given six months’ time.”
After six months, the city without Jews comes into being.
As for Hugo Bettauer, its author--this whimsical flight of his fancy
cost him his life. In March, 1925, not long after the publication of
the novel, he was killed by a zealous twenty-year old ‘Nordic’. At the
trial, the murderer declared himself content with his deed, as he had
resolved to save German _Kultur_ from degeneration, and believed that
Bettauer was a menace to this _Kultur_.
But curiously enough Hugo Bettauer was himself a good Christian, the
scion of a Protestant Viennese merchant family. Not a Jew--not an
interested propagandist! A talented journalist of the Danube City,
whose versatile pen mastered the novel as well as the feuilleton.
What was Bettauer’s crime? He wrote a novel of our time. His
journalistic temperament, his many travels and adventures had brought
him in contact with all spheres of society. Twelve years of his life
were spent in New York--he knew metropolitan life in both hemispheres,
knew it as thoroughly and intimately as only a finely discerning
observer can. That is why Bettauer’s _City Without Jews_ became a
universal novel, transcending the geographical boundaries of Austria.
That is also why Bettauer’s Vienna will seem so familiar to New
Yorkers, Londoners, even Parisians.
Wittily, fascinatingly, colorfully, Hugo Bettauer builds the city
without Jews. With a sure touch he raises the curtain behind which this
hundred per cent Christian city works and plays. Nonchalantly, with
an ironic smile, the Viennese artist takes us to the stock exchange,
the theatre, the great department stores, shows us the night life,
the middle-class Viennese home, the Parliament and the café. We see
and enjoy the city without Jews in all its phases. Dispassionately,
Bettauer paints a modern picture that lives and breathes. But why do we
read the novel as though it were a thrilling episode in contemporary
history? And why did Hugo Bettauer receive the fatal bullet as royalty
for his novel?
An attempt to answer this scientifically would bring us to the
fundamental question of the mutual adaptability of Jews and non-Jews.
It would touch upon the race problem that still torments the world--now
more than ever--and which Bettauer knew so well. Propagandist phrases
could easily slip in, phrases that would again stir up the ancient
controversy between the Jewish and the Christian _Weltanschauung_.
It would be unfair toward the author of this book. For Bettauer
successfully escaped the temptation to propagandize.
The City Without Jews was built by Bettauer, the fearless Christian.
Explanation, comment, or an analysis of his purpose, would be out of
place, and might be interpreted as an attempt to use his novel as
political propaganda.
In Europe, _The City Without Jews_, is arousing an unabating interest.
In less than a year, a quarter of a million copies of the novel have
been sold, an unprecedented figure in German modern literature. The
translation for the American edition was made from the fifty-fourth
edition, following exactly the simple, unaffected style of the original.
_New York, 1926_ THE TRANSLATOR
PART ONE
CHAPTER I.
THE ANTI-JEWISH LAW
A solid human wall, extending from the University to the Bellaria,
surrounded the beautiful and imposing Parliament Building. All
Vienna seemed to have assembled on this June morning to witness an
historic event of incalculable importance. Businessmen and laborers,
fashionable ladies and women of the people, half-grown boys and old
men, young girls, little children, invalids in rolling chairs--all
were intermingled, shouting, debating, and perspiring. And ever and
again someone suddenly felt the urge to deliver a speech before his
neighbors, ever and again there burst forth the cry: “Throw out the
Jews!”
Ordinarily it happened at such demonstrations that people with hooked
noses or conspicuously black hair were given a thorough beating. But
this time nothing of the sort occurred, for not a Jew was in sight;
and the cafés and banking-houses of the Franzensring and Schottenring
sagely taking into account all possibilities, had closed their doors
and pulled down their shades.
Suddenly a deafening roar filled the air.
“Hail Dr. Karl Schwertfeger--Hail, hail, hail! Hail the liberator of
Austria!”
Slowly an open automobile rolled through the human mass as it receded
to make way. In the car sat a powerful old man, his massive skull
covered with unruly tufts of white hair.
He took off his soft gray hat, nodded to the jubilant crowd, and
twisted his face into a smile. But it was a sour smile, somehow belied
by the two furrows that ran downward from the corners of his mouth.
And the expression of his deep-set gray eyes seemed somber rather than
joyful.
Laughing girls crowded forward, swung themselves on the running-board;
one tossed flowers to the great man, another, bolder, threw her arms
around Dr. Schwertfeger’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. The
chauffeur, apparently familiar with his master’s reaction to such
emotional outbursts, made the car give a lurch forward, so that the
girls were suddenly thrown off backward. But they were not hurt, for a
dozen arms stretched out to catch them as they fell.
Within the Parliament Building, however, the vociferous enthusiasm
of the street did not prevail; in its place was feverish excitement,
too intense to be expressed aloud. The deputies,--not one of whom was
missing,--the ministers and ushers went about in anxious silence; and
even the overcrowded galleries made not the slightest noise.
Only whispers issued from the press tables, where careless ease had
always been the rule. And a definite territorial division had been
made. The compact Jewish majority of the reporters had crowded its
chairs together, while the representatives of the Christian-Socialist
and German-Nationalist papers formed a group of their own. Formerly
the Jewish and Christian newspapermen had mingled freely--in their
profession they were not partisans, but only colleagues. Furthermore,
since the Jewish journalists generally had more news, and were able to
turn it to better account, their anti-Semitic brothers depended on them
a good deal. Today, however, the Christians cast malevolent glances
toward the Jews; and when little Karpeles of the _Weltpost_, who had
just come in, greeted Dr. Wiesel of the _Wehr_ with a friendly “Good
morning,” the latter turned his back without responding.
Newspapermen continued to pour in; among them were representatives of
the foreign press, just arrived in Vienna for this occasion.
“Impossible to move,” growled Herglotz, of the Christian _Tag_,
whereupon a bearded little fellow with a tremendous waistline, replied:
“Only a few days more, then we’ll have plenty of room here!”
Subdued coughs, laughter, and smiles on the one side, an exchange of
significant glances on the other.
A blond, pink-cheeked young man bowed slightly to the left and to the
right.
“I’m Holborn, of the _London Telegraph_. Got here just an hour ago,
and don’t know where I am. Arrived in London day before yesterday
after a six months’ stay in Sydney--and an hour later I was in the
train again, on my way to Vienna. Our managing editor, the old fool,
told me nothing, but only said: ‘Plenty of excitement in Vienna these
days--they’re throwing out the Jews. Go there and cable me till the
wires burn up!’ So it would be very kind of you, I’d be eternally
grateful, if you’d tell me what it’s all about.”
This speech had been delivered in so droll an Anglicized German that
the tension was somewhat relieved. Gesticulating violently, Minkus of
the _Tagesbote_ took hold of his English colleague and began:
“Now, I’ll explain everything to you....” But Dr. Wiesel did not let
him continue. “You will pardon me, but it would be more appropriate for
this explanation to come from _our_ side.”
A menacing tone, ominous emphasis on the word “our.”
And in a trice Holborn was in the Christian corner, where, in a few
terse sentences, Wiesel sketched the situation:
“As to what is going to happen, you will hear that shortly from the
lips of our Chancellor, Dr. Karl Schwertfeger, who will go into the
details of the law for the expulsion of all non-Aryans from Austria.
Briefly, the history is as follows: After our so-called financial
recovery, which lasted for two years, Austrian money again fell into
a disorganized state. And when the value of the krone had fallen
to the two hundredth part of a centime, chaos set in. Ministries
fell one after the other, disturbances occurred every day, there was
looting of shops, to say nothing of pogroms--the populace, desperate,
stopped at nothing, until finally new elections had to be called. The
Social-Democrats entered the campaign with their old program, while
the Christian-Socialists swarmed about their gifted leader, Dr. Karl
Schwertfeger, whose rallying-cry was: Throw out the Jews from Austria!
Now, as you may be aware,”--Holborn nodded, though he knew nothing
about it,--“the result of the elections was a complete collapse of the
Social-Democrats, Communists, and Liberals. Even the working masses
voted for ‘throwing out the Jews,’ and the Socialist party, formerly
the strongest, barely salvaged eleven seats. The Pan-Germans, however,
who came out with flying colors, had also taken up the cry of ‘Throw
out the Jews.’
“So, with his genius, his fearless energy, his bold impetuosity and
eloquence, Dr. Schwertfeger succeeded in obtaining the consent of the
League of Nations for this great expulsion of the Jews; for he had
placed before the League the alternative of the annexation of Austria
to Germany or a free hand in this matter. And now Schwertfeger is to
propose the law, which will certainly be passed. You are, therefore,
witnessing an historic....”
Calls of “Hush!” came from all sides. Wiesel could not continue,
for the Presiding Officer of the House, a red-whiskered Tyrolese,
flourished his gavel and gave the floor to the Chancellor.
Sepulchral silence, through which the humming of the ventilators
sounded weirdly. A suppressed cough, the rustling of papers in the
press gallery--everything was heard distinctly.
Inordinately tall although his head was thrust forward and his
shoulders stooped, the Chancellor stood on the platform. His hands,
clenched into fists, rested on the desk; from under the bushy gray
brows his keen, glittering eyes sped over the auditorium. He stood
thus, motionless, until suddenly, throwing back his head, he began with
the powerful voice that had always commanded attention at even the most
turbulent meetings:
“Ladies and gentlemen! I am about to propose the law and the amendments
to our constitution that purpose nothing less than the expulsion of the
non-Aryan,--to be precise, of the Jewish elements from Austria. Before
I proceed to this, however, I wish to make some purely personal remarks.
“For five years I have been the leader of the Christian-Socialist
party; and for a year I have been Chancellor, having been chosen for
this position by an overwhelming majority of this House. During these
five years the so-called liberal papers and the Social-Democratic
sheets,--in short, all the papers edited by Jews,--have depicted me
as a sort of bugbear, a rabid Jew-hater, a fanatic enemy of the Jews
and everything Jewish. Just today, when the power of this press is
approaching its irrevocable end, I feel impelled to explain that all
this is not true. Yes, I have the courage to state today, from this
platform, that I am much more a friend than a foe of the Jews!”
The hall rustled with whispers like a field from which a flock of birds
is rising.
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I like the Jews. Before I entered the
seething arena of politics I had Jewish friends; in the lecture
halls of our Alma Mater I sat at the feet of Jewish teachers whom I
revered, and still revere. And I am always ready to recognize--yes,
to admire--the native virtues of the Jews, their extraordinary
intelligence, their strivings for higher things, their model family
life, their internationalism, and their ability to adapt themselves to
any environment!”
Cries of “Hear! Hear!” were audible, the deputies and visitors became
tense with excitement. The English journalist, who had not understood
everything, curiously asked Dr. Wiesel whether the man down there were
not the spokesman of the Jews.
The Chancellor went on.
“In spite of this,--or, rather, because of it,--I became more and more
convinced, as the years passed, that we non-Jews can no longer live
together with the Jews, that we must either bend or break, that we
must give up either our Christian ways, our own life and customs, or
the Jews. Ladies and gentlemen! The trouble is simply that we Austrian
Aryans are no match for the Jews, that we are ruled, oppressed, and
violated by a small minority because this minority possesses qualities
which we lack. The Latin peoples, the Anglo-Saxons, the Yankees, even
the North Germans and the Suabians can digest the Jews because these
nations equal, if they do not surpass them in agility, tenacity,
energy, and business sense. We, however, cannot digest them; with us
they always remain a foreign element that spreads over our entire body
and finally enslaves us. The vast majority of our people comes from the
mountain country; it is a simple and sincere people, dreamy, playful,
given to impractical ideals, fond of music and calm contemplation of
nature, upright and pious, thoughtful and good. These are marvellously
beautiful qualities which can give rise to a splendid culture and a
wonderful new life--if they are given free play and an opportunity to
develop. But the Jews among us did not permit this quiet development.
With their uncannily keen intelligence, their worldliness and
freedom of tradition, their catlike versatility and their lightning
comprehension--with all their faculties, accentuated by centuries of
oppression, they overpowered us, became our masters, and gained the
upper hand in all our economic, spiritual and cultural life.”
Shouts of “Bravo!” “Quite right!” “That’s so.”
With his bony right hand Dr. Schwertfeger raised the glass to his thin
lips, as his half ironic, half satisfied gaze swept the hall.
“Let us look at our little Austria today. In whose hands is the press,
and therefore public opinion? In the hands of the Jew! Who has piled
billions upon billions since the ill-starred year 1914? The Jew! Who
controls the tremendous circulation of our money, who sits at the
director’s desk in the great banks, who is the head of practically
all industries? The Jew! Who owns our theatres? The Jew! Who writes
the plays that are produced? The Jew! Who rides about in automobiles,
who revels in the night resorts, who crowds the cafés and fashionable
restaurants, who covers himself and his wife with pearls and precious
stones? The Jew!
“Ladies and gentlemen! I have said, and still maintain, that
essentially, when considered objectively, the Jew is an excellent
individual. But is not the rose-beetle with its iridescent wings
essentially also a beautiful, excellent creature? And notwithstanding
this is it not destroyed by the careful gardener who is more interested
in the rose than in the beetle?--Is not the tiger a splendid animal,
strong, fearless, intelligent? And do we not hunt it down because
the struggle for our own existence necessitates it? Only from this
standpoint can we Austrians view the Jewish problem. Either we, or the
Jew! Either we, who make up nine-tenths of the population, must perish,
or the Jew must go! And now, when at last we have the power, we would
be fools--nay, criminals--we would be sinning against ourselves and
our children were we not to make use of this power to expel the small
minority that is destroying us. Here we cannot consider high-sounding
words like humanity, justice, and tolerance--for our existence, our
very lives and the lives of future generations are at stake! The past
few years have increased our wretchedness a thousandfold; our state is
completely bankrupt, we are headed for disaster,--in a couple of years
our neighbors, under pretense of restoring order here, will pounce upon
us and tear our little country to pieces. But the Jews, unaffected by
all these events, will continue to thrive and flourish and to be the
masters of the situation. And as they have never been Germans in their
heart and soul, they will remain the masters when conditions will have
changed and we are slaves!”
Fearful agitation prevailed throughout the house. Savage cries burst
forth: “That must never be! Let us save ourselves and our children!”
And from the street came the echo, from ten thousand throats: “Throw
out the Jews!”
Dr. Schwertfeger let the excitement run its course, shook hands with
his colleagues in the ministry, and then spoke on the enforcement
of the law. For the sake of humanity, and in compliance with the
conditions specified by the League of Nations, great consideration and
absolute justice would be the rule. Everyone was to have the right
to take along as much of his property as consisted of cash, valuable
papers, and jewelry, as well as to sell his real estate and business
as he pleased. Enterprises that could not be sold would be taken over
by the state, the net profits for the past year, as entered in the
tax report, being taken as five per cent of the total value. Thus, if
an enterprise had produced a net profit of half a million in the past
year, it could be redeemed for ten million. The Chancellor’s lip curled
in a malicious smile.
“In the calculation of these amounts, as well as in giving permission
for the taking along of cash, we shall of course be guided by the tax
returns only. Thus a man who has claimed to have no money will not
be permitted to take any with him; and if he nevertheless has some
property it will be confiscated. If a man has given the net profit of
his business as half a million, he may take along ten million, even
though it should develop that his actual income was ten times more.
In this way many a sin will receive bitter retribution,” observed the
speaker, as the hall rocked with laughter. Then he continued:
“Those who do intellectual work and men who receive a definite
salary, who really own no property,--like physicians,--will, on their
departure, receive from the state the amount they designated as their
yearly income on their tax report. So that if a physician has stated
his income to be three hundred thousand kronen, he will receive this
sum. To prevent any further evasion of taxes the law includes the
Draconian provision that any attempt to take out sums greater than
those permitted is to be punished by death. Similarly, Jews or those of
Jewish origin who attempt to continue staying in Austria secretly, do
so under pain of death.
“The law is to be enforced as follows:
“Unregistered merchants, retail-dealers, and so-called commission
agents must leave Austrian territory within three months of the passage
of the law; registered proprietors of firms, clerks, civil service
employes, and manual laborers, within four months; artists, scholars,
physicians, attorneys, and the like, within five months. Directors of
corporations, banks, and industries that paid taxes on an income of
more than two hundred million kronen in the past year are given six
months’ time.
“And now I come to an important point, to which I will ask you to give
close attention. As you know, the law of expulsion applies not only to
Jews and converted Jews, but to those of Jewish origin as well. This
term includes the children resulting from mixed marriages. If, for
example, a Christian woman of pure Germanic-Aryan stock has married a
Jew, he and the children of this marriage are to be expelled, while
the wife is permitted to remain in Austria. After mature deliberation,
however, the government has decided to consider the grandchildren of
mixed marriages as being not of Jewish origin, but Aryan. Thus if a
Christian has married a Jewess the children will be expelled, but the
grandchildren may remain in the country, provided that their parents
have not mixed again with Jewish blood. This, however, is absolutely
the only concession made by the law; no other exceptions can be
permitted. We have received requests from many quarters to provide for
certain exemptions, that, for example, the law should not apply to
people who have passed a certain age, to invalids, and to Jews who have
performed special services for the state.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Had I listened to such counsel the whole law
would have become a farce. Jewish money and influence would have worked
day and night, tens of thousands of exceptional cases would have been
fabricated, and fifty years from now we would be in exactly the same
position as today. No! There will be no preference, no exception, no
pity, no passive collusion. The government will place splendid hospital
trains at the disposal of the sick and infirm; and only those Jews
whom a medico-judicial investigation finds absolutely incapable of
transportation will be permitted to await their recovery or death here.”
Dr. Schwertfeger bowed slightly and sank heavily into his chair.
But his last pronouncement had had a peculiar effect. Only a few
cheers came from the audience; a distinct, almost palpable cloud of
uneasiness hung over the house; many faces reflected unmistakable
terror and anxiety; there was some disturbance in the gallery, and a
woman shrieking, “My children!” fell in a swoon. And though thunderous
applause followed the Chancellor’s speech, yet the little group of
Social-Democrats shouted in unison: “Shocking! Shameful! An outrage!”
And now the red-bearded Presiding Officer gave the floor to Professor
Trumm, the Finance Minister. He was a small man, dry and shrivelled
as a prune, endowed with a treble voice; and his speech suffered
occasional interruptions that served to free his tongue when it became
caught between his gums and the upper edge of his dental plate. He
discussed the financial aspects of the expulsion law before a deeply
interested house. The redemption of Jewish concerns and real estate
would make heavy drains not only on the private capital of the
Christians but on the finances of the state as well. Thousands of
billions of kronen would barely suffice; and it had to be recognized
that one of the first results of the expulsion of the Jews would be all
sorts of financial difficulties.
“But, heaven be praised,” here the Finance Minister crossed himself,
“we will not stand alone in the dark days to come! I bring to the
House the joyful tidings that the true Christians of all the world
have united to help us. Not only has the Austrian government conducted
international negotiations for months, but the Pius Association has
been making unobtrusive but effective propaganda that is bearing
splendid fruit. The League of the Active Christians of the Scandinavian
Countries, whose members include many powerful bankers and merchants,
places at our disposal great credits in Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian
money. The American industrial king, Jonathan Huxtable, one of the
richest men of the world and a zealous champion of Christianity, has
declared his readiness to invest twenty million dollars in Austria. The
Christian League of France is mobilizing a hundred million francs,--in
short, billions of kronen will have to be sent out of the country to
let in a flood of billions in gold!”
Tremendous enthusiasm throughout the house. Several dozen deputies,
hurriedly leaving their seats, dashed to the telephones to give their
banks orders to sell foreign money. The switchboard could hardly
manage the rush of calls for “Karpeles & Co.,” “Veilchenfeld & Son,”
“Rosenstrauch & Butterfrass,” “Kohn, Cohn, & Kohen” and all the rest
of the great banking-houses. And while the Finance Minister, who had
wasted an entire minute to free his imprisoned tongue, went on with
his speech, Holborn, the Englishman, grinned as he told the other
newspapermen:
“Jonathan Huxtable is a fine fellow! He’s been raving and ranting
against the Jews ever since his wife eloped with a Jewish prize
fighter. He’s a strict prohibitionist, but he gets drunk every day on
a cordial he buys from his druggist. Drinking a whole bottle of Eau de
Cologne in one breath is said to be nothing unusual for him. And if
he’s going to invest twenty million dollars here, he surely expects to
make fifty.”
Dr. Wiesel’s face expressed disapproval, while the Jewish reporters
quickly took down notes for some last malicious items.
Speakers, _pro_ and _con_, came forward. The Social-Democrats attacked
the law; but when Weitherz, their leader, in calm and measured terms
expressed his indignation and called the proposed measure a disgrace
to humanity, a terrific uproar arose, the galleries threw keys and
crumpled paper at the Social-Democrats, a fist fight ensued, and the
small opposition left the hall under protest. Pastor Zweibacher lauded
Dr. Schwertfeger as a modern apostle who deserved canonization; the
Pan-German deputies Wondratschek and Jiratschek, however, discussed the
law from the racial point of view only, and Jiratschek, who spoke with
a pronounced Bohemian accent, wept with emotion and closed with the
words: “Wotan is among us!”
The last speaker, received with cries of “Hep! Hep!” and jeering
“Ai-wai” calls, was the solitary Zionist deputy, the engineer Minkus
Wassertrilling. With folded arms the tall, slender, handsome young man
waited until order was restored, and then said:
“My dear disciples of the Jew who, in order to save humanity, was
foolish enough to let himself be crucified!”
Vehement interjections of “Throw out the Jews!”
“Yes, gentlemen, I join your cry of ‘Throw out the Jews!’ And I will
gladly cast my vote in favor of this law. We Zionists welcome it, for
it falls in line with all our aims and tendencies. About half of the
five hundred thousand Jews expelled by this law will unite under the
Zionist standard, and I know that the others will be received with
open arms in France and England, Italy and America, Spain and the
Balkan countries. I am not worried about the fate of my people--what
your spiteful malice and stupidity intend as a curse will become a
blessing.”
The hooting that again broke out drowned the rest of his speech, and
finally the Zionist also was pushed out of the hall.
When the roll was called, therefore, the law was passed unanimously;
and that same day it was rushed through the committee and the second
and third readings.
Late at night, when the deputies were at last able to leave the hall,
they saw Vienna illuminated for a celebration. Red and white flags
waved over all the public buildings, fireworks were displayed, and
until long after midnight processions marched past the Chancellor’s
palace to cheer Dr. Schwertfeger and extol him as the liberator of
Austria.
CHAPTER II.
HERR SCHNEUZEL AND HIS SON-IN-LAW
The next morning--it was a Sunday--Antonius Schneuzel, member of the
National Assembly, the Municipal Council, the Board of Overseers of the
Poor, and the Board of Trade, appeared at the family breakfast table
a good deal the worse for his zealous celebration of the victory; and
immediately he sensed trouble in the air. His wife’s nose seemed longer
than ever--a signal of approaching storm; the eyes of his daughter,
Frau Corroni, were swollen; her husband, the young business man Alois
Corroni, greeted his father-in-law with an impudent and scornful smile;
and when Herr Schneuzel, worried and confused, let his little eyes rove
about the table, his two grandchildren, Lintschi and Hansl, burst into
a fearful howl.
“Why, what in the world is the matter?”
Frau Schneuzel held her arms akimbo.
“What’s the matter, you idiot? Nothing’s the matter, except that you,
you old fool, have helped drive your daughter and your grandchildren
out of the country!”
“Why, how in the world--” stammered Herr Schneuzel. But the horrible
truth began to dawn upon him. Quite right,--in the course of the years
he had entirely forgotten that in his early youth his son-in-law, Herr
Alois Corroni, had borne the name of Sami Cohn,--that he had been able
to stand on his own feet when he was received into the arms of the
Church. And now he would have to get out, and with him would go the
children, who were of Jewish origin!
“It’s a mean trick,” Frau Corroni sobbed into her handkerchief.
“What’ll I do with the children now? Perhaps you want me to emigrate to
Jerusalem, you unnatural father, you?”
“It really is going a little too far,” Herr Corroni now declared,
emphasizing every word, “to chase a man of my sort out of the country
like a mad dog. I dare say I am at least as good a Christian as a
thousand others who spend all day in the barroom.--To drive out a man
like me, whose children are growing up in the Christian faith!”
Herr Schneuzel wanted to reply, and muttered something about a great
and sacred cause, about principles that could give no consideration to
individual cases. But no sooner had he begun than he felt his spouse
seizing him by his thin hair; nor did she relax her grip before she had
pulled out a good handful of the ever scantier foliage.
“Imbeciles, that’s what you are, all of you! You can go to the devil,
you and your Christianity! Hasn’t Loisl always been good to our Annerl?
Didn’t he give her a muskrat coat, doesn’t he raise the children like
princes? You should thank God she got a Jew, and not a fellow like you,
a drunkard and rowdy!”
“I ain’t a-goin’ to Jerusalem,” Lintschi now wailed, while Hans grasped
the opportunity to snatch the sugar roll from grandfather’s plate.
When the uproar was at its height Pepik, the cook, came in, resolutely
cleared the table, and calmly announced:
“I’m goin’! I’m goin’ to marry my Isidor, as is a clerk in the
co-op’rative store, an’ if he has to get out I’ll get out with him.
I wouldn’t care if the dep’ties and the Chancer would all hang
theirselves.”
After the excitement had died down Herr Corroni gave a calm exposition
of the situation.
“Of course I’m not even dreaming of emigrating to Palestine, if for no
other reason than that they wouldn’t let me in, since I’m a converted
Jew. No; I have a brother in Hamburg,--Uncle Eduard, you know; and
though he is angry with me because of my conversion, he won’t leave me
in the lurch now. Jews don’t forget family ties, thank God,” (these
words were punctuated by a cutting glance at Schneuzel). “And there
I will build up a new future for myself and my family--unless Annerl
would prefer to stay with you.”
Whereupon Frau Anna, tired and faded as is usual after fifteen years
of married life, suddenly recovered the pink cheeks of her youth, and,
fondly throwing her arms about the neck of Alois Corroni, (née Sami
Cohn), kissed him as a bride kisses her bridegroom, and really looked
like a girl again. And finally Herr Schneuzel, desperate and altogether
upset, had to promise to give his son-in-law a million to take along to
Hamburg as a sort of cornerstone for his new future.
In the afternoon Schneuzel, member of the National Assembly, the
Municipal Council, and the Board of Overseers of the Poor, went alone
to a Sievering bar, and began to fight with a crowd that was still
shouting “Throw out the Jews!” And he broke his bottle over the head of
one of the shouting celebrants, wherefor he received a most terrible
thrashing.
CHAPTER III.
AT CLOSING TIME
A talk in a niche beside a window of the Café Wögerer, opposite
the Stock Exchange, between Herr Strauss, proprietor of a banking
house, and his nephew, Siegfried Steiner, a medical student. Similar
conversations were taking place at every table; and on this day, far
from being boisterous, they were carried on almost inaudibly, with much
gesturing.
The young man was shaking his uncle’s hand.
“I thank you, dear Uncle, for promising to take me to London
with you. That’s a great consolation for me, for, between
ourselves--Jerusalem--never! Not for me! Nothing but Jews--I can’t
imagine it!”
The uncle smiled a slow smile. “I don’t give a rap about Jerusalem
myself. In London I’ll go into partnership with my old friend Moe
Seegward, who has a fine brokerage house there.”
Siegfried Steiner leaned forward and whispered: “I’d like to know one
thing, Uncle. You surely didn’t enter the actual amount of your fortune
and income in your tax report. So how are you going to get your money
over there, considering that since yesterday all our letters are being
censored?”
The uncle let the ashes of his cigar fall on his vest.
“_Chammer!_ Why does one have Christian friends? I went to see
Schuster, the manufacturer, today; and, confidentially I gave him a
billion in securities and cash, for which he gave me a draft on a
London bank. Of course the _ganef_ doesn’t do it for nothing, but makes
quite a bit on this transaction.”
The nephew nodded with satisfaction; and at thirty other tables various
other conversations also ended with nods of satisfaction.
An old Jew in a caftan, and with cork-screw curls, came in and went
from table to table, repeating his little speech: “Give alms to an old
Jew who lost everything he had in the Lemberg pogrom!”
Someone called from one of the tables: “Tell me, old man, where’ll you
go now?”
The old fellow wagged his head. “_Herrleben_, if I could get out of
the burning Lemberg Ghetto and reach Vienna, I guess I’ll find some
place to go to from Vienna. It’s all the same to me whether I _schnorr_
in Vienna, or Berlin, or Paris. Only I won’t talk about the pogrom any
more, but I’ll tell ’em how they threw out an old Jew like me.--Tell
me, _Herrleben_, do you think it’s good to buy Siemens before the
Exchange closes?”
CHAPTER IV.
A SHOT
A group of friends had gathered in the villa of Herbert Villoner, the
author, in Alt-Aussee. Well-known men of letters, painters, sculptors,
musicians, publishers. As a rule they went to the country resorts only
after the summer had reached its height; but this year they had fled
from the city in June, to escape as much as possible of the filthy
spray of Viennese politics.
The evening meal was over. They were sitting on the terrace, leaning
back in their wicker chairs; the lovely lake lay below, mirroring
the moon--into the motionless air curled wreaths of cigarette smoke.
Everyone was absorbed with his own thoughts, until Villoner broke the
profound silence.
“So there is no doubt that most of us are spending our last summer
in Aussee, and will have to shake the dust from our feet and proceed
into foreign lands like vagabonds. Odd, isn’t it? My father, a famous
physician who contributed not a little to the fame of the Viennese
medical school--my grandfather, a merchant of Mariahilf whose family
had long been resident there--and myself. Well, they say that my dramas
and novels express the essence of Viennese life, that no one has
matched my knowledge and descriptions of Viennese youth and the gay
young thing. But now all this counts for nothing--I am merely an alien
Jew, and must get out like some Galician refugee washed into Vienna on
a tide of speculation.”
“Still,” Max Seider, a young poet, said in a low, quivering voice,
“you will be able to feel at home even when you are far away from
your ungrateful native land. Berlin will receive you with open arms,
the intellectuals there are already planning to honor you. You are
so strong and mature that you will be able to produce great works
wherever you may be. But what can I do? I am only at the beginning, I
can live and work only when I stroll through the green Wienerwald, when
the graceful outline of the Kahlenberg shows me my way. From them an
inexhaustible fountain of life flows forth. I must labor and struggle
for every line, for every stanza--I can do this only in Vienna.”
“Nonsense,” Wallner, a composer, exclaimed angrily. “The devil take
your Vienna and all the blockheads in it! I’m going to the South of
Germany, where I’ll rent a little house in the Black Forest and live
like a lord with my Lene. Won’t we, darling?”
The fair-haired young woman suffered her husband to lay her
Madonna-like little head on his shoulder; but the shadow of a malicious
smile hovered on her voluptuous lips as she exchanged a significant
glance with the playwright Walter Haberer. The breast of the latter
swelled with triumph. He knew that the composer’s wife would stay
there--no one could force her to accompany her husband into exile.
And they had agreed that when the husband would at last be out of the
way she would become his.--But not only she,--all Vienna, all Austria
would be his! For all those who had pushed him into the background,
all those whose plays were being produced while his grew mouldy in the
pigeon-holes of the directors’ desks--all of them, Villoner and Seider,
Hoff and Thal, Meier and Marich, all would have to go away and leave
him to rule the realm of the Muses.
Frau Lene nodded and smiled at him while her husband lovingly stroked
her cheek.
With a thunderous roar of laughter Armin Horch, the great actor, burst
forth:
“Gentlemen, now it must be told! I, too, will have to leave Austria!
For I, whom the _Wehr_ and other papers have always extolled as the
ideal of Aryan beauty,--I must confess to my Jewish descent. My father
came from Brody, and his name was not Horch, but Storch!”
Peals of laughter broke out, the mirth became boundless, appropriate
anecdotes were told.
“And you, Herr Pinkus--where will you transfer your publishing house?”
someone asked the stout little publisher with the bowed legs and the
unmistakably Jewish features.
“I? I stay here! Don’t you know that I’m a genuine Christian?”
And when everybody laughed he said, with a serene smile:
“All jokes aside, I am an unadulterated _goy_! My grandfather, Amsel
Pinkus, was a cloth dealer in Frankfurt am Main, and a good, pious Jew.
But when he fell in love with my grandmother, Christine Haberle, a
little singer of Stuttgart, he became converted, as she wouldn’t marry
him otherwise. Well, my father also married a Christian girl, so that
I’m a third-generation Christian; and therefore I won’t be expelled,
although I look and act exactly like my grandfather.”
“Long live Pinkus, the Christian,” merrily cried the host, and,
laughing, all raised their glasses. Just then, like the lash of a whip,
a report sounded from the lake. And Villoner, filled with a strange
premonition, cried: “Where is Seider?”
But people were already bringing up the body of the young poet. He had
shot himself, down there beside the lake, so that his sensitive, weary
soul would not have to starve in a foreign land.
CHAPTER V.
GIRLS AMONG THEMSELVES
Panic prevailed in Lona’s house, in the Gumpendorferstrasse. Eight
young ladies, all superlatively beautiful, had already gathered there,
and still the stout housekeeper, Frau Kathi Schoberlechner, had to open
the door again and again to let in new arrivals.
The drawing-room was permeated with a strong aroma of Houbigant, Ambre,
Coty Rouge, and cigarettes; golden, red, chestnut and dusky heads,
diamonds and pearls shone and glittered. All were dressed in silks and
laces, only Lona wore a fragrant negligée, open in front so that her
snow-white bosom almost burst forth; and her stockingless feet were
encased in little red mules.
Black-haired Yvonne wept as if her heart would break, while red-headed
Margit pounded on the table and cried angrily:
“We got to protes’! If I ever get hold o’ one o’ them dep’ties, I’ll
scratch ’is eyes out for ’im!”
“Wotta dirty trick! W’at they expec’ us to do w’en they throw out the
Jews?”
Yvonne wept more passionately. “An’ jus’ now, w’en Fredi Pollak jus’
ordered a new car for me.”
“I’m gettin’ ten million a month from Reizes, w’at I been goin’ with
fer two weeks. I’d like to know if them Christian gents’ll be so free
with their money?”
“Y’know, I got that Zwitterbauch from Mährisch-Ostrau, w’at keeps me
altogether, and comes to Vienna on’y for a week outa ev’ry month!”
A voluptuous golden-haired Juno crossed her beautiful though rather
thick-set legs so that her blue silk garters peeped out, drank a little
glass of cointreau, and said in a resonant alto:
“Children, I think I’ve had more experience than all the rest of you
put together. And all I can say is that after the Jews are gone we’ll
either have to starve or look around for jobs as cloak-room maids in
the cafés. Only the Jews leave money behind ’em--the rest of ’em all
want a lot of loving and no expense! I went with Baron Stummerl, of the
Foreign Office, for ten years--and in those ten years he gave me a gold
bracelet, a fur neckpiece, and a thousand gulden. I was lucky I had
Herschmann of the Anglobank at the same time, or I might actually have
had to go to work. Since then I’ve gone in for Jews only!”
Nervously Claire toyed with the diamond-studded gold cross she wore on
a platinum chain. “Wonder what Karl’ll say when I stop gettin’ things
from Dr. Baruch!”
New plaints arose, wails filled the air. In the excitement of recent
events they had not thought of this: What would become of the friends
they loved and supported, after the friends who paid would be gone?
Just then Frau Kathi ushered in one of these friends.--Pepi represented
the ideal of the well-dressed man. Impeccable from his soft gray velvet
hat and his hand-knit tie to his tan oxfords and the dark blue silk
socks.
Sobbing, the charming black-haired Yvonne fell into the arms of her
beloved. All greeted him noisily,--he was pelted with a shower of calls
and questions. Calmly Pepi sank back into an armchair, took Yvonne on
his knee, pinched the naked calves of Lona, (who sat beside him), and,
after permitting the girls to put a cigarette into his mouth, observed:
“There’s nothing to do, my dears, but leave the country, too!”
“Yes,” countered clever, golden-haired Carola, “but where’ll you get
your passport, and who’ll let you in?”
“Very simple,” laughed Pepi. “Tomorrow I’ll go to the City Hall, and
renounce all religious affiliations. The day after I go to the Jewish
synagogue, assure the Hebrew race of my staunch support, and become
a Jew--without the operation, I hope. Then we’ll get married, take
the money that’s coming to us from the government, and settle down
somewhere else, as provided by the League of Nations. We’ll go to
Paris, or Brussels, or some other place where things are lively.”
Yvonne laughed through her tears. “Go on! What’ll I do in Paris after
I’m married?”
“Silly! No one’ll have to know we’re married! You rent a flat, find a
friend who’ll keep you, and I’ll take care of your heart as always.”
During the next few days the liberal papers reported that hundreds of
valiant Christian youths, indignant at the injustice done the Jews, had
demonstratively determined on their conversion to the Jewish faith,
that they might share the fate of the sorely tried people of Israel.
CHAPTER VI.
DR. SCHWERTFEGER
On a warm September day the Chancellor--who, being also the Minister
for Foreign Affairs, resided in the Foreign Office--stood on his
balcony and, looking past the street, watched the doings in the
public park. But the movement there seemed less animated than in past
years,--only a few white-enameled baby carriages rolled over the paths,
and in spite of the mild weather the chairs and benches were almost
unoccupied.
Someone knocked at the door. Sharply the Chancellor called “Come in!”
and his departmental chief, Dr. Fronz, entered.
At the end of June, shortly after the passage of the expulsion law,
Schwertfeger had gone to the Tyrol to recuperate after the nervous
strain of the great responsibility and hard work of the previous
weeks. For more than two months he lived incognito in a village near
the Arlberg. Except for his departmental chief no one knew his
whereabouts; he permitted no letters or reports to be sent to him,
paid no attention to current events, and let Fronz write him only of
unusually important occurrences. As a matter of fact, everything had
been provided for: The chief of the Viennese police and the captains of
the various districts had received precise instructions, and Parliament
had adjourned until autumn. Therefore Dr. Schwertfeger felt that he
could be dispensed with, and considered it his duty to gather new
strength and energy for the tasks to come. He had returned to Vienna
this morning; and now Fronz was to give him a detailed report. After
various departmental matters had been disposed of, Schwertfeger, with
a thud, sat down before his desk, took pen and paper for stenographic
notes, and, seeming very calm and cool though his every nerve was
vibrating with excitement, said:
“Now, dear friend, tell me about the execution and visible results of
the new law so far. How is our financial situation? I’m entirely in the
dark, you know.”
Dr. Fronz cleared his throat, and began:
“Financially, things aren’t running as smoothly as we had hoped. At
first the krone rose by leaps and bounds to the hundredth part of a
centime in Zurich; then there were some slight though insignificant
fluctuations, and since the end of July the krone has not progressed,
but is remaining stationary, in spite of the enormous influx of gold
from the treasuries of the great Christian associations and of the
banker Huxtable. Strangely enough, our hopes for large payments from
the exiles have not materialized as yet. No considerable amounts in
either kronen or foreign securities are gravitating toward the revenue
offices. It seems that our Christian fellow-citizens include thousands
of parasites who unscrupulously take over the excess property of the
Jews, taxes on which had been withheld fraudulently; and in return they
give the Jews cheques on foreign banks.”
“That was only to be expected,” said the Chancellor, a contemptuous
smile playing on his compressed lips. “All of them, Jew and Christian,
are selfish and grasping!”
“The Jew papers mustn’t hear that,” thought Fronz as he continued:
“As I may conclude from the extremely pessimistic report of our Finance
Minister, Professor Trumm, the expulsion of the Jews will burden us
with enormous debts, payable in gold, while the circulation of our
bank-notes will not be diminished to any appreciable extent.”
“Is everything going smoothly in the liquidation and taking over of the
financial houses, banks, and corporations?”
“In this connection everything is in full swing; but unfortunately it
seems that our native capitalists are either unwilling or unable to
take over the large undertakings, so that the overwhelming majority
of the new entrepreneurs are foreigners. Already the Länderbank, the
Kreditanstalt, the Anglobank, the Escompte-Gesellschaft, and other
great banks have fallen into the hands of Italians, Englishmen,
Frenchmen, Czechoslovaks, and the like, as have also our great
industrial enterprises. Only today a Dutch syndicate has taken over
the Simmering locomotive factory. Of course we’re devilish careful
that no foreign Jews worm themselves into the country in this way, and
every sale contract emphasizes the clause that denies the privilege of
either temporary or permanent sojourn in Austria to foreign Jews also.
But there is no way of preventing Jews from being included among the
stockholders and directors of the foreign companies which are buying up
our corporations.”
The Chancellor rested his massive round forehead on his bony hand;
with a wave of his hand he dismissed all unpleasant thoughts, and said
evenly:
“Transitory manifestations, which will take care of themselves later.
How is the expulsion going on?”
“Exactly as provided by the law. Both the police and the railway bureau
are doing excellent work; an average of ten trains full of exiles
leaves Austria every day, going in all directions; and so far about
four hundred thousand Jews have left the country.”
Schwertfeger looked up in amazement. “How can that be? We had intended
to exile about half a million. And now, when only a third of the
calculated time has passed, we are through with four-fifths of them?”
Dr. Fronz smiled feebly. “We underestimated the great number of
converts and of people of Jewish extraction. Today the state police,
having a better view of the situation, no longer count with half a
million, but with eight hundred thousand, perhaps even a million
persons who are subject to the law. I might mention, incidentally,
that the expulsion has had some untoward consequences, frequently
very unpleasant, sometimes merely grotesque. Ten Christian-Social
deputies had to be expelled as being of Jewish origin; almost a
third of the Christian newspapermen were affected either directly or
through members of their families. It has developed that our best
Christian citizens are steeped in Israel--our oldest families are
being torn apart. Indeed, there has occurred something that has made
us the laughing-stock of not only the Jewish papers, which of course
will badger us to the last minute, but of the foreign press as well.
A sister of the princely Archbishop of Austria, Cardinal Rössl, is
married to a Jew, and his brother to a Jewess, so that the law robs
His Eminence of his closest relatives, including all his nieces and
nephews! Perhaps it would be advisable, under these circumstances, to
submit to the National Assembly an amendment to the law, providing that
in certain cases persons of Jewish origin be permitted to stay....”
The Chancellor sprang to his feet and brought down his fist on the desk
with such violence that the ink spattered out from its container.
“Never! Never, while I am in office. The granting of any such
exceptions would make the entire law a universal joke, international
Jewry would celebrate an unprecedented triumph, and all doors would
be opened wide to corruption and bribery. You know our regional and
government clerks with their open hands and empty pockets! No, there
can be no exceptions, the grief of individual families may not shake
the foundations of the law! The war that we waged in the name of the
Hapsburgs cost a million lives--and no one dared say a word. Compared
to that, what is a little inconvenience or vexation for a few thousand,
or a hundred thousand persons? I will ask you to instruct the Christian
papers accordingly. Better still, let the political press bureau
immediately send out a statement on this to the papers. And I beg you
never again to let yourself become the vehicle for such suggestions!”
Paling, Dr. Fronz bowed.
“Then it would be superfluous for me to tell Your Excellency of the
terribly pitiful scenes that occur every day at the departure of the
evacuation trains--scenes which often become so heart-rending that even
the mob, gathered about the outgoing trains to abuse the exiles, is
moved to silence and tears.”
“Such scenes were foreseen, and are inevitable! Let the police be
instructed immediately to shut off the railroad stations, arrange that
wherever possible the trains should leave at night, and see to it that
the main stations should not be used, but only the shunting stations
outside the city. And now one more question: How do people in general
view the execution of the law?”
“With tremendous enthusiasm, of course. The police are having a hundred
clever plain-clothes men mingle in the crowds and make observations.
And they are unanimous in reporting that the Christian population is
actually delirious with joy, and is expecting an early change for the
better in general conditions, a decrease in the price of food, and a
more equalized distribution of wealth. Even among the working-men who
are still organized as Social-Democrats there is great satisfaction
with the exodus of the Jews. On the other hand, however, it cannot
be denied that the populace is excited and uncertain. No one knows
what the future will bring, the masses live from hand to mouth, there
is amazing extravagance among the lower classes, and intoxication is
increasing from day to day.
“An important factor in the prevalent high spirits is the sudden end
of the housing shortage. Since the beginning of July forty thousand
apartments, hitherto occupied by Jews, have been vacated in Vienna
alone. A direct result of this is a veritable flood of weddings,--the
priests have to marry ten or twenty couples at a time.”
Schwertfeger, who was a bachelor, nodded and smiled with satisfaction.
“I think we’ve done enough for today. Now that I have a more or less
complete view of the situation I’ll settle down with the reports of the
various ministries.”
A nod, and the departmental chief was dismissed. But Fronz remained in
the room and, discreetly clearing his throat, regained the attention of
the Chancellor, who had already opened one of his reports.
“I should like to inform Your Excellency that the Municipal Council
of Vienna has decided, by a great majority, to change the name of
the Schottenring to ‘Dr. Karl Schwertfeger Ring,’ and that a similar
renaming of streets and squares has been resolved upon by three hundred
other Austrian municipalities. In Innsbruck they have even organized
a monument committee that expects to erect a marble monument to Your
Excellency next year.”
The Chancellor rose, went over to the balcony, and again looked down
on the park; furiously he paced twice through the large room before he
said:
“Put a stop to all such tributes! Let them be postponed until we
celebrate the tenth anniversary of the liberation of Vienna from the
Jews!”
CHAPTER VII.
A MIDDLE-CLASS VIENNESE HOME
Christmas Eve in the home of Hofrat Franz Spineder. The little yellow
brick house, which the Hofrat had inherited from his grandfather, lay
far out in Grinzing, beyond the end of the tramway line. Viewed from
the outside the one-story house with a high gate of green-painted wood
and the green shades looked almost primitive; but when one opened the
gate and saw the courtyard with its old-fashioned pump, one stopped
short, amazed and delighted. The courtyard gradually developed into
a gently sloping garden that seemed almost endless. In the summer
wall-flowers, tulips, roses, and carnations shone in southern
splendor,--behind the ornamental garden hundreds of trees were bowed to
the ground under their burden of apples, pears, apricots, plums, and
cherries. But the orchard was not the end of the garden, which rose
steeply through a vineyard to a little Old Viennese summer-house with
multicolored windows, perched on the crest of the hill.
Enchanting as the unsuspected garden, were the furnishings of the
living-room. Ancient, comfortable, stiff and graceful furniture of
the Baroque, Congress, and Biedermeier periods, valuable etchings
and paintings on the walls, two genuine Waldmüllers, a Schwind in
the drawing-room, beautiful glassware of many colors, Old Viennese
porcelain, sparkling silver in glass cases and on the side-board,--one
only had to close one’s eyes to see men and women in the costume of
Maria Theresa’s time and in the Biedermeier coat.
Franz Spineder was a government official, as his father and grandfather
had been before him; however, he was not dependent on his salary from
the Ministry of Education, but possessed considerable private means.
Even the house with its enormous garden and its valuable furnishings
represented millions at the current rate. Besides, his wife came of
the Halbhuber family, whose remote ancestors had amassed great wealth
as tanners and manufacturers of leather goods. And as the Spineders
now had only one child, Lotte, who was just eighteen, they could live
comfortably in spite of the high prices and the confusion of the times.
Silently Lotte and Frau Spineder decorated the Christmas tree, attached
chocolate cookies, candies, glass balls, and candles to the fragrant
boughs. Frau Spineder, a plump, still pretty woman, cast a side-long
glance toward her slender, blonde, strikingly beautiful and charming
daughter.
“Lotte! Now you’ve tears in your eyes again! Think of Papa--tonight, at
least, he wants to see cheerful faces! And don’t make poor Leo’s heart
any heavier!”
Lotte dropped a little chocolate chimney-sweep so that his head broke
off; covering her face with her hands, she leaned on her mother’s
shoulder and began to sob bitterly.
“My heart’s breaking, Mother! You’ll see, I won’t survive Leo’s having
to leave the country! Please, Mother--let me go with him!”
Tenderly Frau Spineder, whose eyes also were moist, stroked the soft,
shimmering golden hair of her daughter.
“You can’t do it, Lotte! Remember--Papa is sixty, and since that
dreadful war took our son he has only you. You can’t expect him to let
you go out into an uncertain future, however fond he is of Leo. Just
think: Leo is going to Paris; with the depreciation of the krone we
couldn’t possibly support you with francs, and you might come to want
without Papa’s being able to help you. But if he’s alone Leo will make
his way, and you’re both still so young that you can wait for better
times. Now hush--Father’s coming! And the bell’s ringing--that must be
Leo.”
Herr Spineder, who now came into the room to light the candles, was
typical of the old Austrian Hofrat at his best. Fond of music and a
skilled instrumentalist, highly cultured, well groomed without and
within, always seeking beauty, loving life and affirming it, just,
conscientious, and tolerant--yet a little narrow-minded, cautious and
hesitant. He still wore his beard in the antiquated fashion of Francis
Joseph, for he considered it beneath his dignity to make any concession
on his person to the new conditions. Though he was a Democrat through
and through, and a loyal servant to the Republic, Angeli’s beautiful
portrait of the Emperor still hung over his desk. As he entered the
room now the old gentleman with his snow-white hair and his gentle
grayish-blue eyes represented the genuine Old Austrian whom we soon
will know only from books.
“Leo is outside, scraping off the snow from his shoes,” said Herr
Spineder as he slowly lighted the candles. “Go out to him--I’ll prepare
the presents, and ring when I’m ready.”
Frau Spineder paid a brief visit to the kitchen to look after her carp,
cake, and apple-fritters; but Lotte, throwing her arms about Leo’s
neck, was weeping silently on his breast.
Leo Strakosch--slender, dark-haired, and smooth-shaven, with sparkling
brown eyes that flashed forth wit and humor--was ten years older than
Lotte. During the last year of the war he had entered the army for his
year’s service, and at the front had met Rudolf Spineder, the Hofrat’s
son; soon the young men, who were of the same age, were fast friends.
In the last battle of the Piave Rudolf had been wounded in the head and
had breathed out his young life in the arms of his friend--but only
after begging him to convey a last message to his parents and little
sister. This is how Leo had come into the house of the Spineders; and
the poor son of a petty commission-agent felt entirely at home in the
cultured bourgeois atmosphere. When Lotte grew from childhood into
beautiful blooming girlhood, he determined: “This one, or none!” And
Lotte returned the love of the bright, clever, talented young man with
all her heart.
Herr Spineder had no objections as he watched the development of this
love. Leo Strakosch was an etcher, quite extraordinarily successful in
spite of his youth; people were beginning to fight over his pictures,
and a Leo Strakosch Album, which had appeared about a year before,
was even being noticed abroad. Both the Hofrat and his wife rightly
admitted to themselves that they could put their child in no better
hands than Leo’s, whom they gradually came to love as their own son.
The fact that Leo was a Jew did not in the least perturb Herr Spineder.
His house was a rendezvous for many musicians, authors and painters,
the majority of whom were Jews; and the late attorney Viktor Rosen had
even been Spineder’s closest friend.
A year before, when political circles were just beginning to whisper
about the plan of the Christian-Socialist leader to put through an
anti-Jewish law, Herr Spineder was unwilling and unable to believe that
such a thing could be done. And when events forced him to believe it
his indignation knew no bounds. Greater still was his sorrow over the
blow that Leo’s imminent expulsion would be for his daughter. But he
rejected unconditionally the thought of permitting his Lotte to join
Leo in his exile; for here his love for his only child and the egoism
of age united to make him absolutely inflexible.
Christmas presents were plentiful; Lotte’s parents had been generous,
yet she scarcely glanced at the fur scarf, silk stockings, books, and
music, but constantly pressed to her trembling lips the little picture
of Leo, encased in a gold locket, which he had given her. Now they
were all seated about the holiday table, but the mood was mournful
rather than festive, and Herr Spineder’s efforts to carry on a light
conversation met with failure. When the home-made golden wine was
poured out, Herr Spineder raised his glass and said, with deep feeling:
“Your health, Leo! May good fortune be with you abroad, and may fate
bring us all together again before long! I know that you are angry with
me, children,--but I can’t do anything except suffer with you. You see,
Mother and I have the best part of our lives behind us--I’m on the
threshold of old age; so it’s only natural for us to resist with every
fibre of our being the departure of the last sunbeam that shines for
us. But even if we were capable of such almost superhuman selflessness
my sense of duty would not permit it. Were we living in normal times
I would let you go, and would say that after all we could spend a
couple of months with you in Paris every year. But today, when the
krone is almost worthless, that is impossible. Only speculators can
indulge in such luxury today; and you know that although we live well
and comfortably we nonetheless must count with every thousand-kronen
bill. If Lotte were to go abroad with you now she would lose her home
forever. And not only she, but your children, too, would be homeless
exiles, wouldn’t know the soil in which their grandparents are buried.
And--who knows?--perhaps the day would come when you, Lotte, would
be seized with such homesickness that it would crowd out your love
for your husband, and your entire being would become embittered with
reproach of him whom you followed into exile. You are young, both of
you. You, Lotte, are almost a child--you, Leo, a youth; and your whole
life lies before you. Let a few years pass. Then, perhaps, you will
have grown apart--or there will be new developments that will unite you
again.”
While Lotte and her mother wept inconsolably, Leo, too, raised his
glass:
“Father--I suppose I may still call you by that name--I must respect
your reasons for refusing to let Lotte go with me; I’d probably do the
same if I were in your place. But there is one thing I must say to
you, and to Lotte, whom I will always love: From now on my life will
be one great struggle! My people is said to possess tenacity--well, I
will unite all the faculties of my race in myself. With my brain and
my heart, with all my power and all my will I shall work to win Lotte,
by fair means or foul! They may drive me out like a mangy dog, but
they cannot kill my will-power! And I drink to your health and to our
reunion, which will come sooner than any of us dares hope today.”
The next day Leo Strakosch left the country on a train occupied mostly
by intellectual workers and artists. The Hofrat, Frau Spineder, and
Lotte saw him off. Except for them Leo left no dear ones behind him,
for his parents had died long before.
CHAPTER VIII.
“MY DEAR CHRISTIANS!”
For Vienna the last day of this year was a holiday unparalleled in
the history of that gay and carefree city. By mobilizing all means of
transportation, by borrowing locomotives from neighboring countries,
and by interrupting all other traffic the authorities had succeeded
on that day in sending out the last Jews, in thirty enormous trains.
In the forenoon the directors and high officials of the great banks
went away, at noon the Jewish journalists and their families. They
had stayed to the last second, had composed and edited the evening
papers, and had let the new masters take possession of the editorial
rooms only after the damp sheets had begun to fly out from the whirling
presses. Most of the Viennese journalists had found positions on
papers in Germany proper, or on German papers in Czechoslovakia;
many were emigrating to America; and a few had decided to turn to
other professions.--However, the publisher of the great _Weltpresse_,
together with a small staff of collaborators, was moving to London,
where he intended to publish a German weekly, to be called _Im Exil_,
which would concern itself primarily with Austria.
At one o’clock in the afternoon whistles proclaimed that the last
trainload of Jews had left Vienna, and at six o’clock in the evening
all the church bells rang to announce that there were no more Jews in
all Austria.
Then Vienna began to celebrate its great festival of emancipation. Red
and white striped flags fluttered over a hundred thousand roofs, all
the shops were decorated with these colors, Japanese lanterns burned
before every window. On this frosty starlit night a million people
walked over the creaking snow to form processions. Men, women, and
children carried lanterns, the various district parades were headed
by bands, loud rejoicing filled the air, and again and again there
resounded the cry: “Long Live Christian Vienna!”
All the parades met at the City Hall. Fairy-like in its splendor,
Meister Schmidt’s beautiful Gothic building shone as one enormous
flame, fed by millions of electric lamps. On a platform the peerless
Viennese Philharmonic Orchestra,--purged of Jews, and therefore
somewhat diminished in numbers,--played popular airs, while the Male
Choir of Vienna sang its best songs. The People’s Hall, the large space
before the City Hall, and the Ring from the Schottentor to the Bellaria
formed a solid human wall. And at eight o’clock it was no longer a cry,
but a howl that rose again and again from a million throats and shook
the air.
At last the great moment came. On the balcony appeared Mayor Karl
Maria Laberl with Chancellor Schwertfeger. With his powerful voice,
audible even at the opposite end of the square, the Chancellor began to
speak--briefly, coolly, but all the more effectively:
“Fellow-citizens, a gigantic task has been completed. Everyone who is
not Austrian at heart has left the territory of our small but beautiful
country. Now we are alone, a single family; henceforth we must depend
on ourselves and our own peculiar qualities--with our own power will
we now reorganize our clean house, will we brace up decaying walls and
build up falling foundations. Citizens of Vienna and of our entire
country! Today we are celebrating a holiday the like of which has
never been seen before. Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new year,
and of new life for all of us. Tomorrow we may still lean back and
meditate. But then we must work as we never worked before. We must
dedicate all our ability to our country--we must make the most of
every hour. We must show all the world that Austria can live without
the Jews. Nay, more--we must show that we will recover because we have
removed the foreign element from our organism. In this solemn hour,
fellow-citizens, you must promise me faithfully that we will no longer
live only for today and its pleasures, but that we will work, work, and
do nothing but work until the fruits of our labors have matured.”
“We promise!” roared the crowd; strangers shook each other’s hands,
men and women wept and laughed in one another’s arms, someone sounded
the new national hymn and was joined by the entire chorus. And then,
spontaneously, there rose as from one throat the cheer: “Hail our Dr.
Schwertfeger, the liberator of Austria!”
When the joyful shouting had subsided a little, Mayor Karl Maria Laberl
finally had an opportunity to say something. He began his speech with
the words:
“My dear Christians!...”
But the crowd did not hear much more, for the warm southwind that had
been blowing through the previously ice-cold night was now followed by
a shower. Screaming and shrieking, the mob dispersed, to hurry to the
tramway lines through a sea of slush and melted snow.
PART TWO
CHAPTER I.
LOTTE SPINEDER TO LEO STRAKOSCH, 22 RUE FOCH, PARIS
“Just a year has passed, darling, since I stood in the West Station
waving good-bye to you with my tear-soaked handkerchief. And the first
Christmas that I have had to spend without you as your betrothed is
over. It was very sad again, and Papa, quite worried, said that I would
be sick and wretched if I continued giving way to my grief so much. I’m
always very pale these days, sleep poorly, suffer much from headaches,
and tire so easily. Our family physician thinks it’s anæmia, and
prescribed Guber water for me, but I know that it’s only my longing for
you that makes me weak and ill.
“I can’t tell you how happy I was over your wonderful album, which
came in just on Christmas Eve. As anyone can see from these marvellous
etchings, you’re a great artist now; Papa, who understands these things
so well, says that you already are one of the great masters, and railed
against our government, which drives such men out of the country
instead of honoring them. Of course your letter, in which you tell of
your great success, made me very happy, and Papa calculated that the
thirty thousand francs which you got for this album amount to hundreds
of millions of Austrian kronen. For the krone has again fallen very
low. But when I read that you attend so many social functions, and can
hardly manage your innumerable invitations to the best houses, my heart
missed a beat. Won’t you forget your poor little Lotte, surrounded as
you are by beautiful Parisian girls? Oh, what will become of us, Leo?
When will I be able to put my head on your shoulder again? You know,
Leo, the other day a big aeroplane flew westward over the Kahlenberg,
and then I thought that if I only could I’d fly straight to Paris to
you, whether my parents would consent or no. I’ll tell you--if I knew
how to get a passport without anyone’s finding out about it, I’d let
you send me the money, and would run away to you. I know that would
hurt Papa and Mama terribly, but my longing for you is so great that
I’ve become very wicked and cruel.
“You ask me to outline for you the state of affairs since the Jews are
gone, as the colorless and boring Viennese papers don’t give you a real
picture of conditions here. Well, I’ll try to tell you everything
I see myself or hear from others; but you mustn’t laugh at me if it
sounds silly.
“I suppose you read in the papers all about the great rejoicing and the
many parades on last New Year’s Eve, after all the Jews had left Vienna
and Austria. Well, this mood continued throughout January, everybody
was cheerful, there was celebration after celebration, and again and
again the people paraded before the City Hall or the Chancellor’s
palace, to pay homage to Mayor Laberl or Dr. Schwertfeger. I noticed
myself that the people in the tramway were much more pleasant and
courteous than before, and Hofrat Tumpel, who comes to see us--you
know, the one with the blond beard, whom you never liked--said
triumphantly:
“‘You see, the sunny Viennese temperament, which was so long
overshadowed by all the foreign elements, is coming to the fore again.’
“‘Fiddlesticks,’ growled Papa. ‘That’s only because the whole thing is
a big picnic for the Viennese, and because victuals are cheaper and
it’s possible to get apartments again.’ But Tumpel retorted: ‘Oh, no,
my friend, that’s not all--the Indo-Germanic naíveté of our people is
venturing out in the open again!’
“Food really had become much cheaper, for at that time our krone was
very high. I remember Mama coming home very happily one day last
winter, and telling us that it was possible to live again, as a pound
of lard cost only about twenty thousand kronen. And the apartments
brought much joy to the Viennese. Just imagine, suddenly almost every
house displayed a sign offering apartments or furnished rooms for rent.
People used to go from house to house looking at apartments merely to
pass the time. And moving vans were rolling through the streets all day
long.
“This lasted till Lent, but then the high spirits subsided. Suddenly
there was much unemployment. The clothing industry was at a
standstill--we’d hear of a new failure every minute. The papers said
that the honest Christian merchants who had taken over the old Jewish
concerns but were unable to cope with their task, should be subsidized
by the state. But the unemployed raised a rumpus, paraded on the Ring,
demolished a couple of stores, broke windows, and finally forced the
state to pay them ten thousand kronen a day for the support of their
families. Then the krone began to fall, for, as Papa explained, there
was a tremendous increase in the circulation of bank-notes. Say what
they would, the krone soon was lower than ever, and victuals became
as expensive as before, if not more so. Today Mama told me, with much
agitation, that butter has gone up to a hundred and fifty kronen. Since
spring people have been sulky again, and there is much grumbling on
the tram. Especially about the profiteers, who are pushing up all the
prices--only, they don’t talk about Jewish profiteers, but in general.
“You want to know whether I go to the theatre often? Oh, no, dear Leo!
Except for the opera there’s nothing whatever going on in the theatre.
All the houses are continually playing Ganghofer and Anzengruber, for
they’re not allowed to produce anything written by a Jew, and the
classics don’t draw the crowds. For a while they played a good deal of
Shaw; but since he declared in an English paper that Vienna has become
an international exhibition of asininity, he is taboo. Especially
because he also said that he prefers one intelligent Jew to ten stupid
Christians. The musical comedy houses are all high and dry. (Do you
remember how I laughed when I first heard you use that expression?)
It developed, you see, that all of our musical comedies, old and new,
were either written or composed by Jews, if not both. Besides, they
are short of singers, as practically all the tenors had to emigrate. Of
course a few one hundred per cent Aryan musical comedies were quickly
manufactured, but the audience hissed them, for they were fearful
trash. Hofrat Tumpel declared that it was because Christian art is
suited only for serious things, not for such frivolous stuff. Whereupon
Papa smiled and said that people would soon realize how well the Jews
and Christians complemented each other in Austria.
“When I was in the Graben at noon the other day it struck me that one
does not see nearly as many well-dressed men and women this year as
formerly. People simply don’t indulge in fashions any more. I must
admit, however, that I don’t at all miss the repulsive faces of the
Jewish profiteers, which used to make you so angry, too. Their place
is taken by a great many young fops who look like peasants and wear
impossible clothes, and who infest the Drive with their enormous
watch-chains and fat diamond-ringed fingers. Altogether it seems to
me that nowadays all our transient visitors are peasants. Recently
the owner of the Hotel Imperial complained in one of the papers
that the guests he has these days go to bed without removing their
hobnailed shoes, and wash their woolen underwear in the bathtubs. If
you’d walk through the Kärtnerstrasse you’d be amazed at the lack of
elegance in the stores today!--Now I must close, for it’s one o’clock
in the morning, and I have nothing more of importance to say besides.
Good-bye, my beloved, and invent some way of bringing us together
soon--for otherwise I can’t live any more. Thousands and thousands of
kisses from your disconsolate
LOTTE.”
CHAPTER II.
ROUGH WOOLENS--THE LATEST STYLE
Silent, morose, with wrinkled brow Herr Habietnik walked through
the luxurious salesrooms of the great department store in the
Kärtnerstrasse--the store that had once been called Zwieback, but now
bore the name of Wilhelm Habietnik. Herr Habietnik had been the head
salesman in the ladies’ tailoring department, and during the great
expulsion of the Jews he had succeeded, with the assistance of the
Central German Savings Bank, in acquiring the business. Now, as we have
said, Herr Habietnik wandered from room to room, exchanging a few words
with every aisle manager; his countenance became more and more gloomy,
and angry snorts escaped him. He paced without stopping through the
pink and white infants’ wear department; he threw a furious glance into
the beautiful but entirely deserted pastry shop; and then, rushing into
his private office, he summoned his manager, Smetana.
“Look here, Herr Smetana, things can’t go on this way--something has
to be done! Easter’s almost here; this used to be our busiest season,
the store used to be so crowded that it was impossible to walk through
it--and on my rounds today I found three old women, two of whom were
hunting together for a chenille scarf that died out long ago, and the
third for a cotton petticoat. If this is the best we can do we might as
well shut up shop. Tell me, what’s the amount of our deficit since I’ve
taken over the firm?”
The manager smiled wryly:
“Oh, I’d say about a billion--that should be fairly close to it.”
Herr Habietnik walked about the room in great agitation. “I don’t
understand it! When the Jews were still here we had a lot of Christian
customers, too! What’s become of them?”
Again Smetana, who had formerly occupied a desk in the bookkeeping
department, where he had made out the bills, smiled.
“Our Christian trade never was anything to brag about, Herr Habietnik;
and there always was a catch to those of our customers who really were
Christians. They were either the wives or the mistresses of Jews. Let
me remind you of the beautiful Countess Wurmdorf, the one who, at the
very end, ordered a masquerade costume from us for a million and a
half. Very good; but who paid it? Her husband, perhaps? Nothing of the
sort! It was the wealthy Eisler, of Eisler and Breisler! And Manoni
of the Opera, who’s the daughter of an honest-to-goodness Christian
washwoman, and who left a hundred million in cold cash with us every
year? Why, the entire Hebrew community had to contribute there! Then
there’s....”
Herr Habietnik stopped him with a wave of his hand. “Nevertheless
there were plenty of ladies who had no lovers and still bought quite
a good deal. I know more about this for I was the head of the ladies’
tailoring department.”
“Yes. But you see, Herr Habietnik, even when they weren’t Jewish it was
the competition of the Jewish women that helped us. When the Jewesses
wore good, stylish clothes the Christian society women did not want to
lag behind.”
“You may be right there,” the head admitted thoughtfully. “The other
day I myself heard Frau Artander objecting to our prices, and saying,
as she left without placing an order: ‘Oh, well--thank God we don’t
need to dress up so much any more, or to take up every fashionable
craze. I’ll simply have my old things made over.’”
The memory made Herr Habietnik’s blood boil--he brought down his fist
on the table. “See here, I didn’t call you in for a friendly chat, but
for advice! That’s what you get your high salary for!”
Smetana bowed. “I can give you an idea, Herr von Habietnik. People
are going in for coarse woolens and other durable stuffs nowadays--as
you saw yourself, there’s even a demand for cotton goods. What do you
say to filling up a few show-windows with woolens, rough wool skirts,
cotton and flannel underwear? And a nice poster to go with it, and a
lot of advertisements announcing: Rough Woolens, Cotton, Muslin, and
Flannel--the Latest Paris Fashion!”
Seized with a hysterical fit of laughter, Herr Habietnik roared until
the tears ran down his cheeks. “Flannels and woolens--the rage in
Paris! See here, if Frau Ella Zwieback, who’s living in Brussels now,
ever hears of this, she’ll think we’ve all gone crazy in Vienna! But
all right--I’m sick of this business, and I get scared stiff when I
walk through the empty house! Go ahead, make your wool displays! And
don’t forget the Alpine hats and hobnailed shoes! As for the pastry
shop, it’ll gradually be converted into a standing bar with hot
frankfurters. It’s all the same to me, whether we smash this way or
that!”
Ten days later one show-window actually displayed red, blue, and
printed flannel petticoats, drawers and knitted vests, another showed
cotton stockings and durable shoes, while a third revealed high piles
of rough woolens in brown, gray, and black. And the salesrooms were
filled until everybody’s needs had been supplied, and the salesgirls
again yawned or surreptitiously read Engelhorn’s novels behind their
black silk aprons.
CHAPTER III.
THE OLD-TIMER
Dr. Haberfeld, the lawyer, sat in the Café Imperial and crossly pushed
aside the newspapers which Josef, the old head-waiter, had brought him.
“Say, Josef, it’s so empty here, a fellow could freeze next to the
stove! In the old days it was a hard job to scare up a seat, and
now--now you could stage a Derby race here, there’s so much room!”
Josef stroked his grayish muttonchops, gazed sorrowfully at the other,
wiped off the table with his napkin, and said with a worried air:
“The Ring cafés are closing one after the other--I guess we won’t last
much longer either. Y’know, Herr Doktor, what the Hebrew gentlemen--beg
pardon, the Jews--were, they always liked to go to the high-class
places, where there’s something doing and something to see. But the
Christian gentlemen, they go to a coffee-house in the suburbs, and
play tarot or billiards there--or else they go to a cheap barroom. Yes,
sir, times have changed.”
“A deaf, dumb and blind man could see that,” growled the lawyer. “Look
here, Josef, we two have known each other long enough not to pretend
that things are what they aren’t. To tell you the truth, I don’t like
the whole business. Vienna’s going to the dogs without the Jews!”
Josef started, and looked around with frightened air.
“Don’t worry, nobody’ll hear us! Vienna’s going to the dogs, I say;
and when I, a veteran anti-Semite, say that, it’s true, I tell you!
And I’ll tell you something more, Josef. You know, better than anyone
else, that after I eat I always have to take some bicarbonate of soda,
to counteract the wretched acid in my stomach. But if I had no acid in
my stomach, I wouldn’t be able to eat anything any more, and I’d kick
the bucket. Now, y’see, that anti-Semitism of ours was only the soda
to counteract the Jews, to keep ’em from becoming a nuisance! Now we
have no acid any more--that is, no Jews--but only soda; and I’m afraid
that’ll be the end of us.”
Josef, who had listened with breathless and reverential attention,
dejectedly flicked a chair with his napkin as he whispered miserably:
“Right you are, Herr Doktor, though a fellow don’t dare say so out
loud. My finish has started already. In the last six months I’ve spent
half my savings. Between ourselves, Herr Doktor--and because you
yourself are a liberal gentleman, so the shoe don’t fit you. The Hebrew
gentlemen--beg pardon, I mean the Jews--were real generous with their
tips!”
Josef cleared away the papers which had been boring Dr. Haberfeld,
and, on his request, brought him the Prague and Berlin papers. Then he
attended to some other patrons who had just come in, and who ordered a
pint of wine each.
“Like in a saloon,” Josef whispered as he passed the attorney. The
latter nodded understandingly, lighted a cigar, and fell to dreaming
of the days when he had sat there every evening with a group of Jewish
colleagues and, political enmity notwithstanding, had exchanged with
them many clever and original ideas.
CHAPTER IV.
“SOMETHING HE CANNOT FINISH”
This year the early spring, which always is marked by political
disturbances, again brought some agitated days to Vienna. Unemployment
spread to a terrifying extent, factory after factory closed down,
and there were numerous failures among the retail establishments.
Noisy demonstrations were held everywhere, not only by the laborers,
who were partly provided for by the state, but by idle salesmen and
salesgirls, bookkeepers and typists as well, until it was decided,
at a stormy session of the cabinet, to subsidize these classes also
during the time of their unemployment. The Minister of Finance fought
against this measure with all his power, but finally the Chancellor,
Dr. Schwertfeger, had his way. Dr. Schwertfeger, who had become even
harder, stiffer, and more bony, declared that this additional burden
would have to be borne.
“We may not let things come to such a pass that the expulsion of the
Jews should one day be blamed for misery and distress. So far we
have been able to persuade the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, whose spirit is
still Jewish though its editors are Christians, to refrain from all
criticism of the anti-Jewish law. But if we do not meet the demands
of the unemployed business men and women, its patience will be at an
end, and if only to draw these people into its camp, it will inaugurate
a campaign that may prove ruinous; for we have not yet passed the
transitional stage between the reign of the Jews and our complete
emancipation.”
“And our krone?” sarcastically interjected Professor Trumm.
“We must turn to our Christian friends abroad and explain to them the
straits in which we find ourselves. The best thing would be for you to
leave immediately for Paris and London.”
Trumm laughed harshly. “Quite futile! Even three months ago I returned
empty-handed from my first begging tour. Those people will give no
more--they have not even adhered entirely to their solemn promises. You
underestimate the influence of our former fellow-citizens, the Austrian
Jews, some of whom hold positions in foreign banks today. Besides, the
delirious enthusiasm of the Christians has passed, and people are again
viewing things from a sober business standpoint. Even Mr. Huxtable has
refused.--But all right, let us grant the demands of the unemployed
clerical workers! However, I wash my hands in innocence.”
The next day the cabinet decision was published, and quiet was
restored; but the day after the krone suffered a thirty per cent fall
on the Zurich exchange. And the _Neue Zuricher Zeitung_ printed an
article which proved statistically that slowly but surely Vienna was
forfeiting all significance in Central-European trade, and losing in
its competition with Prague and Budapest.
“The business men of Hungary were as crafty as those of Prague.
They received with open arms certain classes of decent Viennese
Jews, who brought trade with them. Besides, the buyers of the world,
being mostly Jews, cannot go to Vienna any more, and therefore go to
Prague, Brünn, Budapest, and, particularly, Berlin; the Christian
buyers follow their example, so that the Austrian manufacturers
of finished products such as fancy leather goods, shoes, pottery,
and the like, must travel abroad with their sample trunks instead
of receiving their customers at home. In short, no business worth
mentioning is carried on in Vienna, in spite of the unprecedented
low status of the krone. This has of course put an end to foreign
exchange speculation in Vienna--but, it seems, at the expense of the
Austrian organism. Instead of accomplishing a great work with his
law, the gifted Chancellor, Dr. Schwertfeger, seems to have started
something he cannot finish.”
As if in substantiation of the truth of this article the banking world
of Vienna became completely disorganized. The hopes of the foreign
syndicates that had taken over the great Viennese banks met with bitter
disappointment. Their turnover grew less and less, and the departure
of the Jews had also caused a considerable decrease in activity on the
stock exchange. To avoid a deficit, therefore, the banks were forced
to give up one after the other of the thousands of branches with which
Vienna was dotted. The bank clerks’ organization protested in vain
against this deprivation of some of its members of their livelihood.
Then the banks claimed the protection of their embassies, and there
was some painful diplomatic intervention that resulted in the Austrian
government being forced to take into its service the unemployed bank
clerks, when it really needed to diminish its own staff. And the krone
fell to the thousandth part of a centime.
CHAPTER V.
HENRY DUFRESNE
On a wonderfully warm, summer-like May morning an automobile, coming
from the West Station, drove up before the Hotel Bristol, depositing
there an elegant, slender, dark-haired man. With an experienced
glance the hotel manager appraised first the heavy leather trunk and
hand baggage, and then the stranger, whose short imperial beard and
turned-up mustache, twirled in a manner then unfashionable in Vienna,
lent something exotic to his appearance. “From the south of France,”
was the manager’s conclusion; by a rapid mental process he translated
French francs into kronen, and determined the price of a room in
accordance with the astonishing result. To the question, put in French,
as to whether a room was to be had, he replied, with an effort to
suppress an ironic smile:
“Surely, Monsieur--would you like a single room, or a suite with bath?
Looking out on the Ring, or to the rear?”
Amazed, the newcomer dropped the monocle he had held in his eye.
“Why, how’s this? It used to be impossible to get accommodations
anywhere without previous reservation!”
“My dear sir,”--the manager heaved a profound and sincere sigh--“it
must be a year and a half or more since you’ve been in Vienna. Much has
changed since then!”
The stranger understood immediately, nodded sympathetically, asked for
a room with a view of the Ringstrasse, and registered:
“Henry Dufresne, artist, from Paris, 29 years of age, Catholic,
unmarried.”
M. Dufresne bathed, changed his clothes, merrily whistling the latest
Parisian song-hit all the while, ordered an excellent breakfast to be
served in his room, and, about ten o’clock in the morning, left the
hotel, in a noticeably jovial mood.
The Frenchman with the little beard seemed to be quite familiar with
Vienna, for he swung himself on a tramway car without asking his way;
and he appeared to have an excellent command of the German language,
for it was evident that he listened with interest to the conversation
of those about him. When an old woman began to wail about the high
prices, and to revile the authorities in no uncertain terms, M.
Dufresne patted her shoulder and, in faultless German and with a
Viennese accent, tried to pacify her:
“How can you say such things, granny? We must all feel glad and happy,
now that we’re rid of the Jews.”
But granny now flared up in proper fashion.
“The Jews never done me no harm! They could ’a’ stayed in Vienna s’
far’s I was concerned. I had such a good place with a Jewish gen’l’m’n,
an’ whenever he brought home a girl an’ made a mess he give me a extra
bill. Live an’ let live, he always said--an’ he was right!”
There was laughter on the platform, and a jolly chap with a nose that
shone wine-red corroborated this testimony:
“Yeh, I guess a man c’n say th’t some o’ the Jews was real decent
folks.”
A peculiar smile played about the Frenchman’s mouth as he left the car
and strolled slowly along the Währingerstrasse, later turning into
the Nussdorferstrasse. Occasionally he stopped before a show-window,
shaking his head as he observed the prices marked on the goods
displayed. Finally he reached the Billrothstrasse, which eventually
leads into the vineyard-studded suburbs Sievering and Grinzing.
His attention was caught by a sign on the door of a modern apartment
house in the Billrothstrasse.
“For rent: Small, elegantly furnished apartment with studio; immediate
possession. Apply to janitor.”
Quickly making up his mind, M. Dufresne entered the house and sought
out the janitor, who, taking him up to the fifth floor by means of
an elevator, showed him the apartment. It consisted of a bed-room, a
parlor furnished as a den, and adjoining this, a large studio-like room
with a skylight. A bathroom was also included.
“How does this apartment happen to be vacant?”
“For heaven’s sake,” cried the janitor, “why, there are about twenty
thousand vacant apartments in Vienna today. An architect, a Herr
Rosenbaum, used to live here--but he had to leave with all the rest of
the Jews. The landlord bought his furniture, but hasn’t been able to
find a tenant because there’s no kitchen.”
Five minutes later a deposit in the shape of a five hundred
thousand-kronen bill was in the janitor’s hand, and M. Dufresne had
rented the apartment. Walking more rapidly, he proceeded on toward
Grinzing, gaily swinging his cane and saying to himself: “A good
beginning--I couldn’t have had better luck with the apartment.”
But the closer he came to Grinzing the more excited he became, his
cheek flushed, and his merry brown eyes grew feverishly bright. When
he had reached the Kobenzlgasse his steps became slower and almost
dragged--he seemed to be approaching a fateful moment. Drawing a deep
breath, he stopped before the house of Hofrat Spineder, and pulled his
broad-brimmed gray hat down over his eyes so that only his moustache
and beard remained visible. Apparently undecided, he walked back and
forth, at times looking nervously at his wrist-watch, whose hands
pointed to half-past eleven. Just as he stood before the green gate
again it opened to let out a maid. At this instant, while the gate was
open, M. Dufresne saw a girl come out from the door of the house, to
the left of the court--a young girl, dressed in white, her golden head
uncovered, a book in her hand; she walked toward the back, through the
court and up into the garden.
“Hurrah!” the man with the little beard said to himself--and his
plan of action was complete. To the right of the Spineder grounds,
separated from them by a wooden fence, lay a long empty lot that
had temporarily, since the war, been transformed into a large
kitchen-garden. It extended upward as far as the summer-house on the
highest point of the Spineder garden. The other edge of the lot was
separated by another wooden fence from a side street that opened on
the Kobenzlgasse; but this fence was in a dilapidated state, and had
broken down entirely in several places. The Frenchman crawled through
one of the holes and dashed up through the kitchen-garden, catching
up with and soon passing the blonde girl walking on his right. Now M.
Dufresne had reached the top; he swung himself over the fence into the
garden of Hofrat Spineder, and hid himself behind a massive linden-tree
that stood in the middle of the vineyard. A few minutes later the girl
reached the tree; but she was not able to see the man hidden behind it.
Not until, suddenly, something unexpected happened. M. Dufresne called,
_mezzovoce_: “Lotte!” And when Lotte Spineder, startled and confused,
stopped to look around, he called again: “It’s I, Lotte! For heaven’s
sake, don’t be frightened!”
The next moment the gentleman with the little beard had caught Lotte,
who had become white as a sheet and had begun to sway, in his arms.
Again and again he pressed his mouth to her cold lips, until the
color returned to her cheeks and, trembling all over, she clung to him
tightly, as if someone were trying to tear him away from her.
And now they sat in the summer-house, Leo Strakosch held Lotte on his
knee, and told his story hurriedly:
“Yes, Lotte darling, it’s I, and it’s for your sake that I grew this
horrible beard and mustache. I longed for you so much, I simply
couldn’t stay away any more; and when your father wrote me that he was
really worried about your health and that he thought it wisest for us
to stop writing to each other, as every letter opened the wounds in
your heart--then my mind was made up. I confided in a dear and good
friend, Henry Dufresne, who would go through fire for me; I grew a
little imperial beard like the one he wears, and got all his papers
from him: the certificates of his baptism, residence, and military
service, and his passport, duly viséed by the Austrian embassy in
Paris. The beard made us look very much alike, so that he could take a
chance on securing his passport with my photograph. And I did not forge
his signature, but he imitated mine. Of course this splendid fellow
told all his friends and acquaintances that he was going to Vienna,
while he actually went to his uncle’s estate, in the south of France,
where he will stay a year. And I can live in Vienna as Henry Dufresne
just as long as he remains there.”
Lotte wept and laughed in the same breath.
“I’m so unspeakably happy, Leo! But I’m so afraid for you! You know
there’s a death penalty for returning here--suppose they catch you?”
“Impossible, darling! The few friends I had are all Jews, and had to
leave the country when I did. Besides, the beard serves as an absolute
disguise, especially when I wear a monocle. And even if someone were
to come and declare that I’m Leo Strakosch, I’d simply deny it, and no
one could convict me, for my passport is genuine, and if anyone should
inquire of the Paris police he’d be told that Henry Dufresne has gone
to Vienna with a regular traveller’s passport.”
“But what about Papa and Mama?” asked Lotte, after a number of
whole-hearted kisses, which she found delightful, mustache and beard
notwithstanding.
“Of course they must not hear a single word about this, Lotte,” was
Leo’s grave reply. “Not that they’d report me. But your father is too
much of an official and a Hofrat not to be angry with me for this
masquerade; and, besides, he would never permit us to meet, but would
adjure me to go away again. This way, however, we’ll see each other
every day, won’t we, Lotte?”
And Leo told her of the cozy little apartment he had just rented, and
described how they could spend a few hours together there every day--as
much time as Lotte would be able to have to herself. At this Lotte
blushed to the roots of her hair; but when she looked into the frank
and sincere eyes of her lover she knew that she would be safe with him
even if they were all alone.
Leo had to go now, for someone might look for Lotte in the garden any
minute. But before they bade each other farewell the girl’s white
forehead clouded again.
“But now you’ve given up your splendid career in Paris, Leo! And what
will you do to support yourself here in Vienna, with this terribly high
cost of living that even Papa is beginning to complain about?”
Leo laughed so merrily and boisterously that Lotte, frightened, put
her hand over his mouth. Which he construed as an invitation to kiss
the rosy little fingers. He did this to his heart’s content before he
answered:
“What’ll I do here, darling? Work, and work hard; and I’ll save
an enormous amount of money, for when they are reduced to francs
these high Viennese prices are ridiculously low. You see, I’ve been
commissioned by the biggest publishing house of Paris to illustrate
a new edition of the collected works of Zola. And the terms are
marvellous, I’ll tell you. Sixty thousand francs, half of which I got
when I signed the contract. I’ll get the other half when I deliver the
two hundred drawings--and that must be in a year. So you see again that
we Jews are a wily race, and know on which side our bread is buttered.”
Leo climbed back over the fence; and that very day M. Dufresne moved
over to the Billrothstrasse. Hofrat Spineder and his wife, however,
noted with great satisfaction that for the first time in more than a
year their little girl was in good spirits, and hummed a gay song to
herself.
“You’ll see,” the Hofrat said to his wife, “by and by Lotte will forget
all about this deplorable business. I feel sorry for the poor fellow,
but it’s better this way. Besides he wrote me quite a sensible letter
in which he promised to give up corresponding with Lotte.”
Frau Spineder shook her head in amazement, and thought: “How different
girls are nowadays! If I had been in Lotte’s place I’d never have
overcome my love!”
CHAPTER VI.
THE END OF THE TENANTS’ PROTECTIVE LAW
The _Weltpresse_, once the liberal-bourgeois paper, but now the
principal organ of the Christian-Social Party, received a communication
from the owner of the house located at No. 19 Billrothstrasse,--a
communication containing a keen and logical argument against the
continuance of the Tenants’ Protective Law. “This law,” said the
letter, “had reason and justification when there was a housing shortage
and the populace had to be protected against being rendered homeless
through the avarice of individual landlords. But today there is no
more housing shortage; thanks to the beneficial anti-Jewish law of
our revered Chancellor, normal conditions have been restored, and
the necessary surplus of apartments exists. Therefore this Tenants’
Protective Law has become superfluous and, at the present time,
constitutes only a brutal attack on the rights of the landlord;
furthermore, it conflicts with our Constitution. The repeal of the
law would of course be followed by a rise in rents; but this would be
entirely justified, and, in the long run, would prove salutary to the
community, for the higher rents would raise the amount of taxes to be
paid, as well as the value of the houses. It is characteristic that it
was a cultured French artist, living in my house, who expressed to me
his amazement at this Tenants’ Protective Law. He declared that the
capitalist circles of France find the law ridiculous, and that, among
other things, it discourages foreigners from investing their money
in Viennese real estate. Therefore let us do away with the Tenants’
Protective Law! The noble Christian spirit of the Viennese landlords,
together with the automatic action of the law of supply and demand,
will prevent an excessive rise in rents.”
This letter appeared in a prominent position in the _Weltpresse_,
accompanied by an editorial note that very cautiously approved the
views of the esteemed correspondent, yet, at the same time, differed
with him slightly. For neither the landlords nor the tenants were to be
offended.
This marked the beginning of an animated public discussion; letters
poured into the editorial offices, and the landlords clamored more and
more for the repeal of the Tenants’ Protective Law, for the privilege
of giving notice and of raising rents at their own discretion. Herr
Windholz, the owner of the Billrothstrasse house, suddenly became an
important personage; he was elected to the presidency of the landlords’
association, and he came every day to his cultured French tenant, M.
Dufresne, for advice. Gaily Herr Strakosch, _alias_ Dufresne, egged him
on, declaring emphatically one day:
“If the landlords endure this slavery any longer, I’ll consider them
spineless fools one and all, and I’ll leave the city where such
conditions can continue to prevail.”
“But what can we do?” Herr Windholz asked in despair. “What can we do
when the government absolutely refuses to comply with our demands?”
“What can you do? I’ll tell you: Get your association together today,
and resolve to deliver a three days’ ultimatum to the government. If by
the end of that period it has not restored the privilege of managing
your houses in your own way, you, the landlords, will strike. You
will pay no taxes, you will suspend the lighting and cleaning of your
houses, you will refuse to pay interest on your mortgages--in short,
you will commit sabotage against the state.”
Herr Windholz waxed enthusiastic, embraced the Frenchman, and assured
him that whatever may happen his rent would not be raised.
Subsequent events followed M. Dufresne’s plan. The Viennese landlords’
association accepted the ultimatum unanimously, and the government was
defeated. In vain did Dr. Schwertfeger asseverate that the repeal of
the Tenants’ Protective Law would have most disastrous results; his
fellow ministers outvoted him. Primarily, as the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_
maliciously pointed out, because the Ministers of Finance, Education,
and Commerce each owned several houses.
Thus fell the Tenants’ Protective Law, which had forbidden the
landlords to dispossess their tenants or to raise rents at will; and
twenty-four hours later there took place a stormy open meeting of
the landlords, where it was decided to increase the current rents a
thousandfold, so that they would be somewhat more in keeping with the
cost of living. A solemn pledge bound all to adhere to this decision.
The populace, only a small minority of which consisted of landlords,
went mad. The working classes now had to pay millions in yearly
rentals for their rooms, and a small middle-class apartment could not
be had for less than fifty million. The housewives’ organization, the
unions, the association of steadily employed workers, the war invalids
and war widows, the artisans’ societies--all of them called mass
meetings and staged demonstrations; for fully eight days no work of any
sort was done in Vienna or the provincial towns, while demonstrations
were held from morning to night. The number of broken window-panes grew
at a terrifying rate, and for the first time in a considerable number
of years the streets resounded with the cry:
“Down with the government!”
Both the Christian and the German-Nationalist papers lost many readers;
but the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ again basked in the sunshine of fortune’s
smiles.
CHAPTER VII.
ZWICKERL GOES INTO BANKRUPTCY
Herr Zwickerl was in a bad humor, venting his wrath by furious pokes at
the cherry _Strudel_ on the plate before him. Frau Zwickerl anticipated
the approaching storm:
“What’s eating you now, Anton? Isn’t business going?”
This was too much for Herr Zwickerl. He pushed away the cherry
_Strudel_; and his face grew redder than the cherries as he roared:
“You bet business is going! To the devil, that’s where! I might as well
tell you--I’ve got to go into bankruptcy!”
“Jesus Christ!” shrieked Frau Zwickerl. “How can that be? The store’s
always been crowded, and everybody thinks you got a gold-mine from that
Jew Lessner!”
“Yah,” sneered Zwickerl, “a gold-mine full o’ mud! The more people
buy, the more I lose. And you know what? It’s all on account o’ that
damnable exchange! It’s kronen, measly kronen, what I take in, while
Czech crowns and francs fly out the window. I buy ten thousand yards
of batiste in Reichenberg; a week later the salesman of that division
comes to me, his silly face shining with joy, and says, ‘Herr Zwickerl,
these goods fairly fly out of the store! Tomorrow there won’t be a
single yard left in the house!’
“That’s fine, I think, and go to the bookkeeper; and when we go over
the accounts I see I’ve lost on every yard, because the Czech crown has
gone up again. And this is only one case out of a hundred. I always
add three hundred per cent to every price, but the krone still falls
quicker than I can raise the prices. I’m losing all the time; the
Länderbank, which backed me when I took over the store, is demanding
its money, and I can’t pay, because I have a terrific deficit. What’s
more, I need another billion, because I can’t buy any more without it!”
Having let off steam, Herr Zwickerl now felt calmer. Drawing the cherry
_Strudel_ toward him, he continued with a shrewd wink:
“Y’know, old girl, what we really need is just a couple o’ Jewish
banks--that’s all! Before, when I had my little store in the
Strumpergasse, then whenever I had to buy abroad I used to go to that
hunchbacked Kohn of the Hermesbank, where I had my account, and he says
to me, ‘Herr Zwickerl,’ he says, ‘now you’ve got to store up marks,
because the mark’s going to go up;’ or he says, ‘The krone is going to
be steadier now, so you buy kronen.’ And it always happened the way he
said, and I made money not only on my goods, but on the exchange, too.
But now--the monkeys what’s in that bank now don’t know nothin’, and I
don’t know nothin’ about it either, and everything’s going to pieces,
you mark my words!”
Herr Zwickerl was one of the many petty business men whom the
anti-Jewish law had raised to great heights. With the aid of the
now thoroughly Christian Länderbank he, the little small-scale
merchant, had succeeded in acquiring the great dry goods store in the
Mariahilferstrasse; and his first six months there had been a time
of unalloyed happiness. When Herr Zwickerl stood on the balcony of
the store and looked down at the throng below, he felt like a petty
monarch, becoming quite drunk with the ringing of the cash registers,
the rustling of silk, and the confused hum of voices. Every evening,
at supper, he drank to the health of Schwertfeger, and repeated over
and over again to his wife, (who now wore her kid gloves even into the
kitchen):
“Now you see, old girl--now we can see how the Jews fleeced us! They
had all the big stores, and we Christians had to worry along and work
our heads off in dingy little shops. Thank God, that’s over now!”
But even the first semi-annual accounting was a terrible disappointment
for Herr Zwickerl. In spite of the enormous turnover and the crowded
store there was not the shadow of a profit--somehow or other some
mistake had always been made in the speculation involved in purchases
abroad. And more than once Herr Zwickerl sighed to himself: “If only I
had a good Jew what could tell me what to do!”
Herr Zwickerl actually had to declare himself bankrupt, the store
was closed, and was taken over by a realtor of the Gumpoldskirchen
district, who made the great house over into a huge bar.
In the years that followed the war and revolution Vienna had developed
more and more into the hub of Central-European extravagance, and the
life of certain classes had grown so luxurious that it became the talk
of all the world. The masses of Vienna, however--not only the laborers,
but also the middle classes--had gnashed their teeth as they watched
the foreign elements, especially the Galician, Roumanian, and Hungarian
Jews, lord it over Vienna. Spending lavishly the practically worthless
money of Austria, they drank champagne when the poor man could hardly
pay for his glass of beer; they adorned their women with pearls
and furs while the real aristocracy was forced to sell its family
jewels one by one; they raced through the streets in their luxurious
automobiles, they took away the homes of Viennese residents of long
standing, and filled the cultured old city with their noisy ostentation.
When the Jews had been exiled all this was changed entirely overnight.
The dumfounding extravagance disappeared, the Viennese rummage sales
came to a stop, it no longer required superhuman effort to secure a
seat for the opera, and life became calmer, simpler, more substantial.
Until it developed that a city like Vienna cannot exist without
luxury. At the beginning, the Christian business men who took over the
Jewish shops had also taken possession of the Jewish automobiles; the
general prosperity seemed to be unchanged, but merely to have been
redistributed. The joy which the citizens of Vienna felt when they
no longer had to bump into Jewish profiteers at every step, was as
genuine as it was easily comprehensible. But when the krone soon began
to drop again toward the infinitesimal, and prices rose like a tidal
wave--when every business that depended on unlimited luxury, (like the
exclusive stores, the cabarets, theatres, and princely restaurants and
bars,) failed--when unemployment became general and the export trade
with foreign countries grew less and less--then high living also had
its wings clipped. The tens of thousands of automobiles that had gone
over from Jewish into Christian hands were sold to foreign buyers
for a handful of lire or francs, for business went so badly that it
was impossible to buy gasoline; art dealers complained of a complete
standstill in their business, the deficit of the state-subventioned
theatres grew by leaps and bounds, and eminent Christian artists and
scholars, especially the great physicians, emigrated to other countries
because their own people no longer were willing or able to pay them the
fees to which they had become accustomed in the Jewish era.
And it was impossible to stop the constant growth of discontent,
irritation, and the realization that the country was on the downward
path.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SWEET, GAY YOUNG THINGS
Discontent was rampant among the gay young things of Vienna.
Instinctively they felt in their subconscious minds that the lofty and
exalted policy of the government was, to an appreciable extent, carried
out at their expense. During the last half century it had become a
tradition that the pretty young girl of the Viennese middle class
should have a Jewish sweetheart. Let the father be an enthusiastic
Christian-Socialist, let the brother be just as enthusiastic a German
nationalist--Poldi or Fini, Mitzi or Grete “went” with a Jew, who might
be a salesman or a bank clerk, a business man or a student. Those of
their friends who had no Jews would often taunt and jeer at them--but
always were they envied. For to have a Jew as one’s lover meant to
be taken to the theatre and to nice cafés, to be well treated and to
receive generous gifts.
As for marriage with a Jew--that was considered the grand prize, a
guarantee of comfort, fur coats, and pretty clothes.
If one asked Poldi or Tini why she preferred a Jewish sweetheart, the
answer was always the same.
“A Jew’s always liberal, and when he marries a Christian girl he’s her
slave. Besides, they don’t get drunk. I used to go with a Christian
before, and on Sundays I was always scared to death that he’d get drunk
and start a row. Now that I’ve got a Jewish friend we always go to nice
places, he drinks hardly anything, he’s smart, always has a lot of
things to talk about, and never gets rough.”
But when the sweet young things were gathered together privately, in an
intimate group, and began to tell one another their erotic experiences
and exploits, then they spoke of the sensuousness of the Jews and of
the manifoldness of their erotic inclinations as contrasted with their
Aryan friends--good Christians and splendid fellows, but far less
entertaining....
It is possible, and even probable, that one cause for the profound and
fanatic anti-Semitism among the male inhabitants of Vienna during the
last few decades was the fact that the youth with the _Hakenkreuz_
could not stomach the sight of his Jewish rivals snatching away all the
pretty girls.
Now all this had been changed; no longer was it necessary to compete
with the Jews, and the Viennese girl was wholly dependent on her
fellow-Aryans. But comparison and reminiscence could be neither
prevented nor prohibited.
The girls behind the counters and in the offices, in the sewing-rooms
and factories, understood little of politics, but much of practical
life. And they began to miss the Jewish young men very much. At
first they had been carried away by the general enthusiasm; but when
the morning after dawned they found their lives emptier and more
poverty-stricken than before. They began to long for their exiled
sweethearts, the good qualities of the Jews as lovers were exaggerated
in the memory; these good qualities were constantly thrown in the teeth
of their Christian successors, and the two were compared continually,
much to the disadvantage of those in power.
One day the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ described a characteristic scene, which
a reporter had observed in the inn of an excursion resort.
A beautiful young creature had, for some reason or other, quarreled
with her companion, who exclaimed in the course of the argument:
“Wish you’d gone away with your Jew!”
Whereupon the girl wiped the tears from her eyes and answered loudly:
“Wish I had! I ain’t the only girl what had a Jewish friend, and
we’re all sorry we ain’t got them any more! What do we get from you?
You drink and gamble away your money, and we’ve got to buy our rags
with what we make ourselves. And none of you is so nice to us as my
Fritz was, or Trudl’s Rudi, or his friend Karl, what went with Liesl.
They never let us pick up or carry anything, they always bought us
the prettiest and best things, and when we went out with them they
didn’t take us to such cheap lunchrooms, but to Hopfner, or the
Opernrestaurant, and later to a swell café where there was music and
people in fine clothes. And where love’s concerned--well, you can’t
talk about such things, but them Jews knew how to treat a girl, and
when they loved they never was so selfish like you fellows, what ain’t
got no idea of what a woman needs!”
These resolute words called forth a storm of indignation among the
young men; the girls, however, silently exchanged glances, and nodded.
CHAPTER IX.
THE END OF THE _HAKENKREUZLER_
At a political meeting held shortly after the expulsion of the Jews Dr.
Schwertfeger said that now, when the foes of the Aryan spirit no longer
resided in Austria, there would be an automatic approximation of the
various party groups, and a modification of political antagonism.
He seemed to have been right. Almost annihilated by the results of the
last election, dumfounded and staggered by recent events, robbed by the
expulsion of their greatest minds, best journalists, and most spirited
leaders, the Socialists remained silent and decided not to come out of
their forced retirement for the time being. And the variance between
the principles of the German Nationalists and the Christian-Socialists
actually began to disappear.
After the expulsion all Vienna was transformed into an armed camp of
_Hakenkreuzler_. Practically every man, woman, adolescent and child
wore the emblem that was displayed on all the posters, flags and
standards. But when things came to such a pass that every “drunk” and
pickpocket was wearing it, when the police mentioned regularly that
“the prisoner wore a _Hakenkreuz_,” then the more intelligent people
began to discard it, soon to be imitated by the middle class and the
masses.
It was not long before it became evident that all the parties, the
Christian-Socialist as well as the Social-Nationalist, had as their
common basis the portrayal of the Jew as an evil spirit, a bogeyman,
and a scapegoat. Now that there were no Jews or people of Jewish
descent in Austria this no longer attracted the public, and party
politics became even more stupid and boring than before.
Misery, unemployment, and the cost of living increased, and demagogues
were at a loss to find someone to blame. For now the rich were good
Christians, as were also the exploiters and usurers, (though the latter
were not to be mentioned, for that would have been an admission that
Christians, as well as Jews, could be profiteers and usurers).
Formerly the _Hakenkreuzler_ had attracted notice and aroused the
masses with their posters. Bosel and other Jewish plutocrats had
been called the rulers of Austria, had been reviled as vampires and
oppressors. But now Bosel was living in London, and the _Hakenkreuzler_
posters had become so colorless that no one bothered to read them any
more.
One after the other the papers that displayed the _Hakenkreuz_
suspended publication; _Hakenkreuzler_ meetings no longer drew an
audience, no more money poured into the party treasury, and the leaders
found themselves in a pinch when they could no longer fleece rich Jews,
and when there were no more Jewish banks to give them money. For the
Christianized banks did not need to contribute--and could not have done
so had they wished, for their situation became worse every day.
The leaders of the _Hakenkreuzler_ made a last effort to save
themselves and their slowly dying party. On enormous posters and a
million leaflets they informed the populace that it was again the Jews
who were to blame for all the misery of Vienna. It was international
Jewry, said they, that was shooting poisoned darts into Austria from
foreign countries, that was hatching vengeance, that was forcing down
the krone and, through the powerful organization of Freemasonry, was
draining Austria and isolating her from international life.
For three or four days these “revelations” served as topics of
conversation--for three or four days the starving, desperate, jobless
people stopped before the posters and shook their fists. Then they
began to shrug their shoulders and to call the whole business nonsense.
For the simple reason that even the most stupid of them could see that
Austria was absolutely powerless against such a “plot” of international
Jewry. In the old days they could have marched from a _Hakenkreuzler_
meeting to Leopoldstadt, drunk with enthusiasm, and secretly hoping
to plunder and burglarize a little on the way, to thrash a few Jews
and break some windows. But now, when there were no more Jews in
Leopoldstadt, such a demonstration would have been entirely senseless,
and the formerly so tolerant and kindly police now would surely have
cut down the looting demonstrants without much ado.
Thus it happened that one day the principal organ of the
_Hakenkreuzler_ made the melancholy and yet defiant announcement
that it would suspend publication; incidentally, it revealed
the heart-rending fact that at the last great assembly of the
_Hakenkreuzler_ there had gathered only twenty persons in addition to
the officers and the waiters.
Dr. Schwertfeger had been right: Political opposition was becoming
less vivid, was disappearing almost completely. But for an entirely
different reason than he had believed. It was because of a total lack
of motive power, and because the Jews had taken with them all the dash
and spirit of politics.
CHAPTER X.
CHEAP SUMMER-RESORTS
On a glorious June day Leo Strakosch, _alias_ Dufresne, went to the
City Park, to gather further impressions of the new Vienna. As a rule
he seldom left the Nineteenth District, where he was always either
working in his studio or taking long walks in the Wienerwald with
Lotte. Now, strolling about among the crowded tables of the inn, he
felt so amused that he laughed aloud.
“For heaven’s sake--what has become of my beautiful, elegant Vienna!”
There seemed to be a general craze for Alpine costume and tourist
dress; as far as he could see there were men, old and young, in rough
wool coats, knickerbockers, and green Alpine hats. And the women!
Most of them wore peasant costume, which, while it might have been
very charming and graceful in the open country, here looked like a
caricature or a bad joke. People had become very unassuming; besides,
now they were all one big family, and there were no strangers around
for whom it might be necessary to “dress up.”
Occasionally one did see elegantly dressed men and women; but they were
so few as to be conspicuous, and sneering remarks about them issued
from the Alpine tables. Strakosch felt highly uncomfortable whenever he
noticed a “peasant girl” staring at him through her lorgnette--probably
only because his dark blue suit, patent leather shoes, and costly silk
tie attracted attention.
An electric tramway line, municipal music, and peasant girls who wore
lorgnettes--Leo pinched himself. He hurried out of the Park into the
Ringstrasse, where the cafés presented a sorry sight; he grinned as he
noted that people were greeting one another with “Hail!”; and he had to
search for quite some time before he found a taxicab. For even these
public vehicles had become a luxury indulged in by so few that most of
the drivers had given up their business.
Late in the afternoon, around sunset, he met Lotte at the edge of the
Kobenzlwald, as they had arranged. They settled down on a bench, and,
after a prologue of kisses, Lotte told him that her parents had decided
to move to their little villa on the Wolfgangsee the next week.
“What’ll become of us now?” she wailed. “How can I bear not to see you
all summer?”
“Nothing of the sort is expected of you, darling. I’ll take a vacation,
too; when you’re in St. Gilgen I’ll be in Wolfgang, and you’ll come
over every day so that we’ll be together at least an hour.”
“M-m-m,” Lotte replied happily, “that’s something like! But now I’ll
have to tell you about the argument Papa and I had yesterday. Just
think, suddenly Papa looked me straight in the eye and said very
seriously: ‘What have you been doing all by yourself lately, for hours
at a time? You know we give you as much freedom as possible--but
there’s a limit!’
“I felt myself getting red as a beet and thought the best thing would
be for me to confess.”
“What!” interrupted Leo, horrified. “You told your father?”
“Let me finish, silly,” laughed Lotte, pinching his ear. “I confessed,
but only what I wanted. I told Papa that I had met a very splendid
young man at Erna’s house, that I like him as well as he likes me, and
that I often meet him for walks. He’s a Frenchman, I said, by the name
of Henry Dufresne, and he’s putting through some big business deals
here.
“At first Papa was absolutely speechless, then he asked why I don’t
invite this Frenchman to the house. Whereupon I answered that I’m not
entirely sure of my feelings, and therefore don’t want to make the
matter seem official. And finally I cried, quite indignantly:
“‘You know you can trust me, Papa! You can be sure I won’t do anything
wrong, and Henry will come to you as soon as I think it necessary and
proper. But now let me go my own way!’
“After this Papa was very kind and nice to me, and so was Mama. But
later I heard Papa telling Mama: ‘I’d never have believed that Lotte
would forget poor Leo so quickly and thoroughly. Still, I’m very glad
she’s found a new object for her affections, and we won’t put any
obstacle in her way.’
“And Mama, who is so fond of you, shook her head and said: ‘I don’t
understand that girl at all! Her cheeks have actually become pink
again, and she sings all day as if she had never had a heartache.’
“You know, Leo, it surely isn’t nice of us to fool my parents this
way--but I’m so happy that you’re here in Vienna!”
Leo pulled Lotte toward him, gave her a long kiss, and then said with
an important air:
“Now we’ll go to the country, and when I come back I’ll fool the whole
town and I’ll do it properly, too! I can’t tell you any more today--but
you’ll see some marvelous doings.”
This was the second summer to console the Viennese for the great
inconvenience and bitter disappointments they had suffered. In former
years the most beautiful towns and resorts of diminished Austria had
become the playground of the Jews. All of the beautiful Salzkammer
region, the Semmering district, and even the more modernized sections
of the Tyrol, had been flooded with Austrian, Czechoslovakian, and
Hungarian Jews; the appearance of anyone who might be suspected
of being a Gentile would actually create a sensation in Ischl,
Gmunden, Wolfgang, Gilgen, Strobel, Aussee, or on the Attersee.
Not without justification the Christians--partly because of lesser
wealth, and partly because of greater conservatism in the matter
of money-spending--felt that they were being pushed aside, and
had to content themselves with the less expensive, but also much
less beautiful resorts of Lower Austria and Steiermark, or with
out-of-the-way Tyrolese villages. Since the expulsion of the Jews
all this had changed. The most beautiful summer-resorts were crowded
no longer, inquiries from city dwellers received immediate and very
courteous replies, and in spite of the otherwise increased cost of
living the rents of rooms or summer homes were considerably lower than
two years before. And therefore all who had the time and the money
flocked to the places that had formerly disgusted the genuine Viennese.
The owners of the great hotels, health resorts, and so-called
sanatoria, however, were not so well pleased. They had always lived off
international Jewry--their entire business depended on people who do
not calculate cost when their comfort is at stake; and now, as it was
impossible for them to be cheap, they could not find enough patrons.
The great Semmering hotels did not open at all, and many hostelries of
the Salzkammer region and the Tyrol were forced to close and dismiss
their employes in the middle of the season. This was gall in their
cup of joy, and caused ill will among the country people, who were
accustomed to sell their products to the great hotels at enormous
prices, and to let their sons and daughters make goodly sums of money
as valets and chambermaids during the summer.
The mayor of Semmering had the courage to say openly, at a meeting of
the Town Council:
“Together with the Jews we drove prosperity out of the country. If
this lasts a few years longer we may be good Christians, but we’ll be
as poor as church mice!”
CHAPTER XI.
A STORMY DEBATE
When summer was over and autumn was tinting the leaves with its
brilliant hues, the krone began to fall again, (as had become its
habit,) and the cost of living to rise. Prices became preposterous,
even the rich hesitated to buy new clothes; laborers, office workers,
and even the unemployed made new demands. A ride on the tramway car
cost ten thousand kronen, a pound of butter a hundred thousand.
In October, when bitterness, restlessness, and discontent were at their
height, the National Assembly convened; the face of the Chancellor was
care-worn and deeply lined. When he spoke the awed silence of the old
days did not prevail; instead, there were calls and loud remarks, even
the galleries hooted occasionally, and the small Social-Democratic
opposition no longer let itself be intimidated, but constantly joined
in the debate.
After surveying the hopeless financial condition of the country,
Schwertfeger went on to say:
“I must tell you frankly that the Christian people of Austria will be
called upon to make many great sacrifices.” (Call from the gallery:
“Only the Christians, of course, since we threw out the Jews!”)
“Sacrifices that will require a stout heart and loyal patriotism!
The government needs money for the continuance of its administrative
business; and as we are unable to obtain further credit abroad, we must
resort to new taxes, direct and indirect, to bring in the enormous sums
required for the administration, to cover the interest on our debt, and
to pay for the support of the unemployed.
“I know, ladies and gentlemen, that the people are bitterly
disappointed; I assure you that I am also. The trouble is that we
underestimated the difficulties of the transitory period, and thought
that the Christian citizens would adapt themselves better to the
control of our financial and business undertakings, which had been
entirely in the hands of the Jews. But what are such disappointments
in comparison with the lofty goal we have set ourselves--to give back
Austria to her Aryan people, to build up a country that will be free of
the spirit of usury, free of Jewish scepticism, free of the corrupting
properties and elements that represent Jewry!”
At the close of his speech the Chancellor, raising his voice, put the
question of confidence.
Dr. Wolters, representing the small Socialist fraction, spoke against
the granting of credit, against approval of the government’s plans and
against the vote of confidence. Vividly he portrayed the ever-growing
misery, the imminent danger of national bankruptcy, the devastation of
Austria’s economic and intellectual life. Among other things he said:
“More than two years ago, when he was arguing for his anti-Jewish law,
the honorable Chancellor called our people honest, simple, and sincere,
and declared that they are not fit to compete with that superior race,
the Jews. But he overlooked one thing: That even without Jews we
honest, sincere, and simple Austrians would be surrounded by nations
which are all the more superior to us now that the Jews are no longer
with us. What has become of Central-European commerce since the Jews
are gone? We have lost it, for the Jews have taken it along to Prague
and Budapest. What has become of our flourishing clothing, jewelry,
and millinery industries? They have disappeared almost entirely, for
they cannot live on honesty and sincerity alone, but need the Jewish
purchasers of all the world, who make no bones about spending their
easily acquired money. Today it is evident that we cannot dispense with
the Jews.”
Wild shouts interrupted the Socialist leader. The Christian-Socialists
and German Nationalists were furious, and cried, “Throw out the
hireling of the Jews!” The turmoil became so great that the Presiding
Officer, the red-bearded Tyrolese, had to close the meeting
temporarily. When he opened it again, he reprimanded Dr. Wolters
severely, because his words had deeply wounded the Christian sentiment
of the deputies, and because he had attempted to undermine the
foundations of the new state.
Finally all the proposals of the government were accepted, over the
opposition of the Socialists. But many deputies had left before the
vote, and later Schwertfeger, smiling grimly, told his Presiding
Officer:
“This time they ran away--but next time they’ll vote against me, those
opportunists, always looking for the winning side. Yesterday they
shouted ‘Hosannah,’--but tomorrow they’ll cry ‘_Crucifige!_’”
CHAPTER XII.
THE LEAGUE OF TRUE CHRISTIANS
Odd, mysterious things were happening. One morning hundreds of men
and women stood before advertising kiosks at the Schottentor, before
the Opera, in the Stubenring, and in other localities, where someone
had attached, by means of a tack, small octavo leaflets bearing the
following legend:
“Citizens of Vienna and Austria! Arise before you are destroyed
altogether! With the Jews you drove out prosperity, hope and the
possibility of future development! Accursed be the demagogues who
misled you!
The League of True Christians.”
People read the impudent words aloud; many were indignant, and declared
it was the work of Freemasons; others went away silently, and still
others had the courage to voice their approval and to look defiantly at
those who differed.
A few days later new posters appeared in various places, reading:
“Vienna is becoming provincialized! Citizens of Vienna, do you not
see it? Another year or two, and the old metropolis, once the seat of
emperors, will have become a shabby little hamlet, forgotten by all
the world!”
As the burden of the poster was also being published in the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_, it began to affect the people’s nerves, and to
cause restlessness throughout the city. Was there not some truth in
this last statement of the mysterious League of True Christians?
It gave rise to heated discussions at meetings, in the barroom,
and on the tramway. Somehow the remark about the provincialization
of Vienna hovered in the air--it seemed to acquire wings, for soon
it was heard everywhere, and even the Christian _Weltpresse_ quite
unintentionally closed an editorial with: “We must do everything to
avoid provincialization!”
The government, very much annoyed, exhorted the police to discover
the malefactor who was putting up the posters. But their efforts were
in vain. New leaflets appeared every day or two, always in different
places--on the doors of the houses and churches, once even on the
portals of the Chancellor’s Palace, of Police Headquarters, and of the
Parliament Building. Always they bore a terse but effective attack on
the government, an inflammatory suggestion to the people. And each time
the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, having received a mailed copy the day before,
was enabled to publish in its early morning edition the contents of the
leaflet which would be put up that day.
After a short while all Vienna was seething with excitement; almost
all conversation centered about these leaflets, and everybody puzzled
over who might be behind this mysterious League. From week to week the
number of those who agreed with the message of the little proclamations
increased, Social-Democratic meetings again drew large crowds, and the
Chancellor’s prestige fell to an appreciable extent.
One afternoon Lotte went over to Leo’s earlier than he had expected. As
she had her own key to the apartment, and since Leo was not waiting for
her in the living-room as he usually did, she went directly into the
studio. Leo quickly threw a cloth over a little wooden table, and then
greeted her with a somewhat embarrassed air.
Lotte pulled his little beard, looked straight into his eyes, and said:
“Look here, Leo, you’re trying to hide something from me! What have
you got there under that cloth?”
Leo laughed heartily.
“You’ve the eyes of a lynx, darling mine! Well, I guess I’ll have to
tell you my secret now.”
He pulled off the cloth, and Lotte saw, beside a box of type and a
miniature hand-press, a pile of newly printed sheets. Amazed, she read:
“Citizens of Vienna! Are you better or worse off today than in the
time of the Jews? Think it over calmly, and you will find the right
answer! Years ago we all cried: ‘Throw out the Jews!’ But today we
cry: ‘Let in the Jews who really want to work loyally with us!’
The League of True Christians.”
Dumfounded, uncomprehending, Lotte dropped the paper and picked up
another sheet, on which was printed:
“We are not longing for the Jewish bankers. But if we want to escape
hopeless misery we must welcome back the intelligent, clever Jews who
can be of value to us. Arise, and act, before it is too late!
The League of True Christians.”
Lotte looked inquiringly at her fiancé.
He picked her up, kissed the tip of her nose, and again roared with
laughter.
“Don’t you understand, you child? I, all by myself, am that League
of True Christians that has been driving Vienna crazy for weeks! And
I shan’t stop before the great storm breaks. Mark my words, these two
leaflets will do the work! They’re my gas and stink bombs and flares,
with which I kill, suffocate, and illuminate.”
Lotte was trembling.
“If you’re caught at it, Leo, it’ll be all over with you!”
“If--if! But they won’t get me! I have a marvellous technique for
putting up the leaflets! As I stroll past a door or a wall in the
morning--without stopping for a second, but while walking--I push in
the tack to which the paper has already been attached. And even if the
police tear down the leaflet a few minutes later there’s no harm done,
for the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ has already printed its contents. You can
trust me, dear; it has to be done this way. I’ve mapped out my course
to a ‘T,’ and I’m devilish careful anyway.”
Swinging her slender legs as she sat perched on the broad
drawing-table, Lotte spoke thoughtfully:
“You know, Leo, I think you’ve already accomplished a great deal.
We had quite a crowd at our house yesterday, ten men and women, and
mostly all the conversation was about the expulsion of the Jews and
its consequences. Everybody, including Hofrat Tumpel, agreed that the
expulsion should have been limited to some of the Eastern Jews--to
those who could not prove that they had a decent occupation. And
finally Hofrat Tumpel, who, a year ago, used to become furious if you
dared to differ ever so slightly with the Chancellor, remarked:
“‘Yes, it seems that a very delicate mechanism has been interfered
with too abruptly! There are some Jewish qualities that are not to be
underestimated, and which we miss badly.’
“This may of course have something to do with the fact that the
Hofrat’s brother owns the bookshop in the Seilergasse where only _de
luxe_ and artistic editions are sold. Since the Jews are gone his
business amounts to practically nothing, and on two occasions his
brother, the Hofrat, has had to give him large sums of money to save
him from bankruptcy. Another thing, Leo: I always keep my eyes and
ears open--in the morning when I do my shopping, and at concerts, at
the opera, and on the tramway. And I always hear people recalling the
past more and more wistfully, and speaking of it as if it had been very
beautiful. ‘In the old days, when the Jews were still here,’--they say
that in every imaginable tone of voice, but never with hatred. You
know, I think people are actually becoming lonesome for the Jews!”
Leo rewarded her keenness by pressing her to his breast. “And I’ll do
my share to make their longing irresistible.”
“But be very careful, Leo! Don’t forget that if they kill you I’ll have
to die, too!”
CHAPTER XIII.
A MELANCHOLY CHRISTMAS
Never had Vienna experienced a more melancholy Christmas. The
enormous cost of living was supplemented by an absolute standstill of
all activity. High prices alone would not have bothered the worthy
Phæaceans. They had been accustomed to them for a decade; as a matter
of fact it did not make much difference whether a half-pint of wine
cost five or ten thousand kronen, if people earned enough, if the
laborer received high wages, and the merchant had his safe full of
money every evening. But this was the case no longer. The bulk of the
currency lay dormant in the stockings of the peasants; in the cities
no one wanted to buy; a large part of the working class was idle and
dependent on government support; and the Christmas numbers of the
papers published statistics which revealed that in two years about
five thousand branch banks, cafés, restaurants, and shops had closed
down in Vienna alone. Lately one big failure after the other had been
occurring in industry. Corporations that to the last minute had been
thought bomb-proof were now declaring themselves insolvent, and rumor
predicted the collapse of two great banks.
Matters having reached such a state, what did it avail the Viennese
that there was plenty of room everywhere, that the theatres were not
sold out even on the Christmas holidays, and that one no longer had to
meet those provoking Jewish noses? What did it avail them that they had
returned to Christian simplicity and the full beard, when the barbers’
assistants had to be discharged by the dozen because there was no more
work for them?
The condition of the jewelers was the worst of all. Most of them
had been Jews and had therefore been forced to leave; and now their
business was being conducted by former petty watch-repairers and other
doubtless very estimable individuals who, however, had no connections
whatever with the Dutch precious stone market, (which is almost
exclusively in Jewish hands,) and who therefore were thoroughly taken
in at every purchase. Finally buying abroad stopped altogether, for the
demand for jewelry disappeared entirely, while the number of those who
were forced to sell increased constantly. Slowly but surely most of
the jewelry belonging to Austrians travelled to neighboring countries,
to England, France, and America; but even there the jewelers who were
the agents for this export trade had to suffer. If a dealer bought a
rope of pearls today from a private owner for ten billion kronen, and
soon after deposited it on the neck of an American woman in exchange
for thirty billion, he imagined that he had put through a splendid
deal, celebrated the joyous occasion with wine, sang the praises of Dr.
Schwertfeger, and bought a fat goose, (which no longer was the special
privilege of the Jews). But before he had digested the rich goose-liver
his thirty billions were not worth as much as the ten he had spent, and
he had no more money for further purchases.
So it was not at all surprising that the Yuletide brought a wave of
embitterment and discontent to Vienna, and that the customary noise and
merriment of the New Year’s Eve celebration was stifled under a blanket
of ill temper and discouragement.
If the Chancellor had heard the conversation that occurred during
Christmas week between Herr Habietnik, owner of the huge department
store in the Kärtnerstrasse, and Herr Mauler, proprietor of the large
jewelry establishment on the Graben, his wrath would have waxed even
greater.
Sitting in the Grabencafé, Herr Habietnik and Herr Mauler were
grumbling about the miserable Christmas business, which would surely
seal the ruin of thousands of business men. Suddenly Herr Habietnik
leaned over toward Herr Mauler and told him of a dream he had had the
night before.
“Just think, Herr Mauler, I dreamt that all of a sudden only Jews and
Jewesses start to come to my store. Every last one of ’em’s dressed in
the latest style, and carries piles of bank-notes, and there’s a big
rush. The girls can’t bring the furs and cloth and cloaks and suits
fast enough for ’em, and all the ready-made clothing department’s
filled with silks and velvets and laces and embroideries. But nothing’s
good enough for ’em, and one Jewish lady, dressed in very good and
stylish clothes, keeps on crying: ‘That’s nothing! We’re coming from
Paris and Palestine, where everything’s in the latest style. Show me
the best you’ve got!’ Then, without any warning, my head salesgirl
brings out a pair of cotton bloomers and says: ‘But my dear Jewish
lady, this is the newest thing from Paris!’ Then everybody laughs so
terrible much that I wake up. Don’t you think, Herr Mauler, that this
dream means something?”
Herr Mauler grinned as he answered:
“Yes--it means that pretty soon all the world’ll be laughing at us, and
we’ll be wrapping ourselves in flannel and cotton before we’re buried
for good. But one thing’s sure, Herr Habietnik. If an automobile was
to stop in front of my shop with a Jewish couple in it, I’d kiss ’em
both, and I’d be happy again! You know, Herr Habietnik, in the old
days, when I was still a clerk with Herr Zwirner, what used to have my
store, I often thought it really was a shame that almost no one but the
Jews had the money for diamonds and pearls. And once I even said so out
loud. Then Herr Zwirner laughed in my face and said: ‘Don’t be a fool,
Mauler, but be glad the Jews buy and put money in circulation. Or would
you like it better if they was to hide and bury their money like the
peasants? You’ll see, if the anti-Semitism business keeps on the rich
Jews’ll leave the country--and then all the stores’ll have to close
down!’
“Well--and now both the rich and poor Jews have left Austria, and we’re
all finished good and proper!”
CHAPTER XIV.
AN INFLAMMATORY SPEECH
In the Spineder home Christmas Eve had been celebrated in the usual
patriarchal manner. But the atmosphere was not entirely cheerful. The
Hofrat was beginning to have grave financial worries because of the
depreciation of his fortune; Frau Spineder had not yet recovered from
the shock of having had to pay a quarter million for her Christmas
carp and three million for the Christmas goose; and Lotte was worried
because she had received no news of Leo although she had hoped that he
would at least remember her with a Christmas card.
As they were reverentially consuming the costly fish, the doorbell
rang and the maid announced that a man had come to deliver something
personally to the young lady. Lotte hurried out, and the fur-coated man
who had something to deliver to her kissed her madly in the dark hall
before he pressed a tiny package into her hand and hurried away.
In the dining room Lotte unwrapped the little package and, from a
leather case, drew out a ring set with a magnificent pearl the size of
a hazelnut.
“A Christmas present from M. Henry Dufresne,” said Lotte, blushing
furiously; and as she drew the ring on her finger her young heart was
filled with infinite happiness.
The Hofrat, however, was quite taken aback, and declared categorically:
“But now, Lotte, this M. Dufresne must present himself at last, and ask
for your hand. For if such a ring is given to a girl it’s nothing less
than an engagement ring.”
Lotte laughed as she kissed her father.
“Only a little more patience! Leo--Henry says he’ll come to see you
very soon.”
But the mother shook her head again and thought:
“Queer times, queer children! She loves a man, forgets him, and then
confuses his name with that of his successor!”
In January a number of large consumers’ organizations united to hold
a mass meeting in the public auditorium of the City Hall with the
slogan: “We cannot go on!” Tens of thousands of people attended the
meeting, and in spite of the extraordinary cold, there stood before
the building enormous crowds for whom there was no room within.
The assembly presented a remarkable appearance. Leo Strakosch, who had
also come there, observed an unprecedented number of men with full
beards, and of cries of “Hail!” With a slightly different background he
could have supposed himself at an assembly of Tyrolese peasants in the
days of Andreas Hofer. The gentle sex was also very well represented,
but not by the most beautiful of its members in Vienna. Amid general
cheering the druggist, Dr. Njedestjenski, opened the meeting with
the declaration that things could go on thus no longer. He carefully
avoided any connection of the widespread poverty and high cost of
living with the expulsion of the Jews, but spoke in the most approved
Pan-German manner, averring that the cause of the pitiable ruin of
Vienna lay solely in the fact that Austria could not be annexed to
Germany. Whereupon a working-man interrupted, amid great hilarity:
“We can’t annex ourselves any more! Or do you think the Germans are as
silly as we, and will throw out their Jews?”
This wrecked the druggist’s train of thought; he stammered a little
more of German unity and national consciousness, shouted “Hail!” and
gave over the floor to the speakers of the evening. Whereupon the Jews
became almost the sole topic of discussion. And they were spoken of in
such a way that an uninitiated auditor would have believed Vienna to be
the most philo-Semitic city in the world. When a wine-dealer began to
speak in an anti-Jewish tone he was actually howled off the stage, and
when someone called: “We’d be better off if we’d learned from the Jews
instead of driving ’em out!” there was much applause. Leo could control
himself no longer. His heart beating wildly, he designated his wish
to speak, saying to himself as he mounted the platform: “Impudence,
stand by me!” He pretended to have an imperfect command of the German
language, emphasized over and over again that, as a Frenchman, he was
really not entitled to meddle in Austrian affairs; but, he said, his
love for this incomparably beautiful and charming city, a close second
to--if not the peer of--Paris, forced him to express his views. At
this the bearded portion of the audience felt flattered, while the
women were delighted by the slender young man, handsome in spite of his
imperial beard; and everybody shouted: “Hail!” Thereupon Leo continued
with his French accent:
“In Paris, too, we have very many Jews, good and bad, useful and
noxious. In any case, many of them deserve all respect, and are of
great value to the country. But it would never occur to any of us
to exile the Jews; instead, we all try to make use of their good
points. As this is not my home, I don’t know all the qualities of the
Viennese Jews. But I can say that in Paris I met very many exiles from
Vienna who made a splendid impression and who doubtless will be good
Frenchmen very soon. It is possible that there is a greater difference
between the Austrian Christians and the Jews than between the latter
and the more emotional and temperamental Frenchmen. But in that case
they should complement each other all the better. I hear that in
this country the Jews were reproached with controlling capital and
possessing more money, proportionately, than the Christian citizens.
Very good, ladies and gentlemen. But this merely goes to prove that
they think and act more quickly--and from such qualities a wise
government should be able to derive benefit for the community.”
Loud interjections from all sides: “Yes, indeed, a wise government--but
ours is stupid! He’s right! Hail! Hail!”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” continued Leo, smiling, “it really makes no
difference whether one likes the Jews or not. The yeast that is used
in the making of bread has a horrible taste--but bread cannot be made
without it. We must look at the Jews in a similar light. Yeast--not
very pleasant by itself, and harmful in excessive quantities--but
indispensable, in the right proportion, for our daily bread. And I
think your bread is refusing to rise for lack of yeast.
“Now, however, is not the time for arguments or for crying over spilled
milk, but for seeing what can be done about it. I don’t know what can
be done in Austria. Were such a contingency to arise in France the
people would insist on new elections, to show whether the country
is satisfied with conditions as they are, or whether they should be
changed.”
With these words Leo left the platform, and quickly became lost in the
crowd. The assembly, however, became fearfully excited. The words “new
elections” had struck the human mass as a spark might strike a keg of
dynamite; the huge auditorium shook, as thirty thousand throats shouted
these words, which found their way out on the street and became the
catch-word of the day.
In the editorial offices of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ a conference of
the chief editors and confidential agents of the party was held
the next day; and for the first time in years it was resolved to
inaugurate again an active, energetic political campaign, and to
take this campaign out of the closed chamber and into the street.
The editor-in-chief of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_, a former pen-cutter,
Wunderlich by name, who managed the heritage of Viktor Adler as best he
could, made the following pronouncement:
“We must adopt the slogan of this remarkable French painter, whose name
cannot possibly be Diefress, as the idiotic chairman had it. Beginning
right now we will voice incessantly a demand for new elections through
our papers, assemblies, and councils. And now we will put to work our
friends in France, Holland, Czechoslovakia, England, and America, and
induce them to do their utmost to have large amounts of kronen thrown
on the market. For if there is another appreciable fall of the krone,
and another rise of the now stationary cost of living--then the time is
ripe for us, and we will be able, if necessary, to use force to bring
about the dissolution of the National Assembly.”
CHAPTER XV.
HERR LABERL TURNS
The next few days were marked by another event that caused great
consternation in uncompromisingly Christian-Socialist circles. The
Mayor of Vienna, after Schwertfeger the most influential man of the
country--Herr Karl Maria Laberl fell over, figuratively speaking. Not
voluntarily, however, but because he was tripped up by the President
of the Municipal Council, Herr Kallop. City Hall had long known that
Herr Kallop’s name should really be read from right to left, that is,
“Pollak,” as this had been his grandfather’s name. When the Jews were
still in Vienna the story was told among them that the old Pollak had
been an immigrant grain-dealer from Galicia, who became converted
on his marriage to a Christian. The name Kallop had been adopted by
his son, who was a lawyer highly respected in Christian circles; he
married a Christian also, so that, according to the Schwertfeger law,
the grandchildren of the old Pollak were full-blooded Aryans. Josef
Kallop, the lawyer’s son, was a ne’er-do-well in his youth, unable to
complete the studies required for admission to the bar; but he became
a successful Municipal Councillor. Infinitely more shrewd than most of
his colleagues, he soon became the Presiding Officer, and for quite
some time had been the right hand of Mayor Laberl.
It was Herr Kallop, therefore, who brought about the fall of the Mayor.
He began by explaining that a great change was impending.
“As you can clearly see, Herr Laberl, things can’t go on this way. The
near future will bring disturbances that will be quite serious; and one
of these days the government will go up in thin smoke, so to speak. If
you don’t want to go up with it you’d better change your course before
it’s too late. Don’t stick too closely to Schwertfeger; admit that
expulsion of all the Jews was going a little too far. And then, in the
midst of the rumpus that is inevitable, all Vienna will suddenly stop
and say to itself: ‘Our Mayor is a smart fellow--he knows when we’ve
had enough of a good thing, and he’ll be able to help us out of this
fix.’”
Herr Karl Maria Laberl nodded, stroked his fine white beard, and seemed
entirely convinced by this superior reasoning; yet he asked, a little
timorously:
“That’s quite right, what you say there, my dear Kallop; it’s just what
I’ve been thinking for a long time. But how am I to go about it?”
“Very simple, Your Honor. We call a meeting of the Christian-Socialist
citizens’ league of, say, the First District, for there the business
men are actually in a panic. And then you’ll make a speech which we’ll
work out together.”
This was done; it must be noted, however, that the “working out
together” of the speech consisted in Herr Laberl’s memorizing the
oration composed by the President of the Municipal Council. At the
meeting of the citizens’ league Herr Laberl greeted the assembly
with the utmost solemnity, spoke of the grave times and unbearable
conditions, and finally said:
“The demand for new elections is becoming more and more stormy; and I
am the last man to refuse to heed that demand. On the contrary, I am,
personally, in favor of doing what the people want, and of determining,
by means of new elections, whether the voters of Austria still approve
of what the government did more than two years ago or whether they
want a radical change. I--and doubtless you also, gentlemen--see only
one goal: To make possible the rehabilitation of our country, to
bring back the light of day to our unfortunate nation, hurled into a
labyrinth by the Entente--but, perhaps, by grave errors of its own
also. Gentlemen, we may be guided by no dogma, no fanaticism, no
personal likes or dislikes, but only by the thought of what is best for
our land!”
Kallop saw to it that the Municipal Press Bureau gave over the Mayor’s
speech to the papers word for word that very night; and the next day
even the simplest among the Viennese knew that at the proper moment
Karl Maria Laberl would leave the Chancellor in the lurch.
When Dr. Schwertfeger read the Mayor’s speech in the morning papers--of
which only the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ provided adequate comment--bitter
gall rose in his mouth, and he spat it out. Then he looked long,
forlornly, dully over the public park, covered with a white shroud.
But in the City Hall Herr Kallop gaily rubbed his hands. And after
making sure that neither a colleague nor an inferior was in the room,
he said loudly and distinctly, “_Mazeltov!_” knocking thrice on the
under side of the table. Incidentally, it might be divulged that Herr
Kallop admired a voluptuous Jewess--twice divorced, to be sure, but
blessed with many millions by way of compensation--who now lived in
exile in Prague. And he longed for nothing so much as for the return
of her person and her millions to his beloved country--if for no other
reason, than because he could not possibly cope any longer with the
rising cost of living on his salary as President of the Municipal
Council, and because, furthermore, he had made a mistake in his
speculations on the Polish mark.
CHAPTER XVI.
“DOWN WITH THE GOVERNMENT!”
The Mardi Gras season of this year was powerless to improve the humor
of the Viennese. Bitter cold, much snow, rooms unheated because a
hundred-weight of coal cost a hundred thousand kronen, failure after
failure, the closing of a great bank in which many had deposited their
money.
Dances and fancy dress balls were held in the sign of the peasant
costume exclusively. As extravagant dress was not being indulged in,
necessity was made into a virtue, only country dances were given, and
Vienna looked more like a country fair than a metropolis.
The city’s theatrical life had come to an absolute standstill. The
best members of the National Opera were constantly playing abroad, the
Philharmonic Orchestra was just finishing a tour in South America,
the private theatres had degenerated into provincial troupes with
inadequate direction, inferior actors, and antiquated scenery; and
visiting artists from abroad had long ago stopped coming because Vienna
could not pay the great sums they demanded. Besides, some papers had
lately had to suspend publication because the number of their readers
was constantly diminishing; and suddenly the alarm was sounded again:
“The krone is falling!”
Enormous quantities of kronen were being sold on the foreign exchanges,
so that Zurich soon rated them at the thirty-thousandth part of a
centime. Prices rose in proportion, and the populace began to grow
desperate. When a pound of fat cost a half million kronen there
appeared again the mysterious little leaflet of the League of True
Christians, with the question:
“How long, Citizens of Vienna, will you bear with this government?
When will you at last make the National Assembly dissolve, and force
new elections to be called?”
The morning of the next day was marked by looting in the markets;
the embittered housewives stormed the stands, beat their owners, and
took possession of the foodstuffs. In Favoriten the riot developed a
revolutionary character; but the National Guard, which was called out,
refused to proceed against the women.
In the National Assembly, which was in session just then, not only the
Social-Democrats, but some Christian-Socialists and Pan-Germans as
well, put the question to the government as to what it proposed to do
to help the desperate people. The Social-Democrats made a declaration
of urgency and moved that the government immediately call new
elections, so that the voters could decide themselves whether they were
prepared to bear present conditions any longer.
Deathly pale, the Chancellor rose to rejoin.
“To call new elections at this moment of general confusion would be to
deliver the fate of our country into the hands of the radical elements,
and to open our gates wide to the Jews! The proudest and greatest
work ever created by the Austrian legislature would collapse because
we are not patient enough, because we are not capable of sufficient
self-denial to endure present conditions and overcome our difficulties.
I know that international Jewry is mixed up in this, and doubtless
agitators, bought with Jewish money, are working to....”
The rest of the Chancellor’s words were lost in the terrific hullabaloo
that now filled the house. The Social-Democrats knocked on their
desks, the galleries shouted wildly, and even from the benches of his
partisans came calls like “Have you proof for your statements?”
At six o’clock in the evening the Social-Democrats’ declaration of
urgency was still being discussed; and its proponents were very
evidently doing their utmost to prolong the session. Every speaker
talked for hours; as soon as one had finished another took the
floor--most of the deputies had stopped listening long ago, and were
refreshing themselves at the buffet, and even the ministers’ bench was
empty. Only Schwertfeger, rigidly sullen, his arms folded, was still in
his seat.
Suddenly new life came into the house. The rumor spread that masses of
working-men were advancing; immediately after the sound of the workers’
song was heard from afar, the cheering and shouting of the excited mob
became louder and louder, until finally a single howl penetrated the
closed windows:
“Down with the government! Down with the National Assembly! We demand
new elections!”
Great crowds with their flags and standards were surrounding the
Parliament Building, new processions were constantly arriving; all the
workers of Greater Vienna, clerks and office employes--all had marched
out in closed groups from the factories and shops, stores and offices.
Now powerful blows thundered on the doors of the building, which had
been locked hurriedly--now a hailstorm of stones rattled against
the windows--now a deputation of workers had forced an entry. Their
leader--an iron-worker by the name of Stürmer, a powerful fellow with
bright eyes and an enormous head--took up his position in the midst
of the deputies, who, panic-struck, were huddled together like sheep
during a storm; and he declared briefly:
“The army is with us, and so are the younger men on the police force.
Either the government dissolves Parliament within ten minutes and
orders new elections to be called immediately, or the masses will
proceed with violence. The bitterness of the people is boundless; this
time the middle classes stand behind the workers, and the question is
not political, but one of actual desperation. The women are the most
furious--listen to them shrieking for firing the building. If the
government does not give in we will not answer for the consequences!”
And the inevitable happened. After a brief consultation with the
Christian-Socialist and Pan-German party leaders the government
announced that it would submit to the terror, would dissolve the
Assembly, and would call new elections immediately. The Chancellor
handed in his resignation then and there, but his colleagues and the
party chiefs adjured him not to desert them at this critical moment;
he consented, therefore, to keep the reins of government in his hands
until after the elections.
When the excited mob was informed of the dissolution of the National
Assembly the tension was transformed into wild joy; and in the
evening that followed the wine supply of Vienna suffered considerable
diminution.
Even the Frenchman, Henry Dufresne, who had witnessed the memorable
meeting from the gallery, drank a great deal too much, all alone in his
studio. The next morning, however, he was in perfect condition again;
he made an excellent sketch for the title page of one of Zola’s novels,
and when Lotte came to him, snow-covered and with cold red cheeks, he
picked her up and swung her around.
Lotte was in as high spirits as he, for after reading the morning
papers her father had said to her very gravely:
“I see a great conflict in store for you, my child! Everything
indicates that Leo Strakosch will soon be able to return to Vienna. And
then you’ll have to choose between him, whom you loved so much and whom
I would welcome as a son, and this mysterious Frenchman, whom we have
never met!”
When Lotte smilingly replied that she would like to have both Leo
and the Frenchman, Hofrat Spineder became really angry, called her
frivolous and immoral, and required much coaxing before he could be
placated again.
But now Lotte sat on her lover’s knee and kissed Henry Dufresne and Leo
Strakosch, combined in one person, with great enthusiasm.
CHAPTER XVII.
PREPARATIONS
Leo, who had almost no chance to speak with anyone except Lotte and his
cleaning woman, had lately made the acquaintance of two men whom he
considered important. One was the Deputy Wenzel Krötzl, the other the
proprietor of the great department store in the Kärtnerstrasse, Herr
Habietnik.
Leo had met Krötzl in the following manner: Returning home late one
night from the coffee-house where he used to read his papers and
magazines, he found a man lying on the bottom step, very much the
worse for liquor, weeping bitterly and making vain efforts to get on
his feet. Leo helped him to his apartment, which was located under his
own studio, and discovered, by the way, that he had before him the
honorable Deputy Wenzel Krötzl, whose avocation was that of real estate
profiteer. Not only was this advertised on the door, but as he reeled
forward and back Herr Krötzl persisted in proclaiming at the top of his
voice:
“If any’un shayzh I’m drunk he’zh a crook an’ a Jew beshidezh! I’m a
duly ’lected dep’ty an’ memmer o’ the Nash’n’l ’Shembly, an’ I got
fifty houzhezh to shell w’at ushed to b’long to them Jew shwine!”
In the course of time Leo had opportunity to learn that Herr Krötzl
was not only a rabid anti-Semite but also a notorious drunkard, who
usually had a drop too much even at breakfast at the Parliament buffet.
However, he had considerable gifts of persuasion, and was quite popular
among his constituents for his homely way of putting things. He was
a widower, and from time to time harbored in his home a presumable
housekeeper--occasionally one that had barely passed the legal limit of
fourteen years.
It was in a much more conventional manner that Leo met Herr Habietnik.
M. Dufresne was accustomed to supply his wants in the line of ties
and underwear in the Kärtnerstrasse department store, which in spite
of its epidemic of woolen still carried the best wares; and on one
such occasion he had entered into conversation with Herr Habietnik.
The latter was delighted to wait personally on this Frenchman of
distinction who bore himself impeccably and knew that a blue cheviot
suit required a pearl-gray silk tie. There ensued an animated talk
in the course of which Leo saw how deeply the intelligent merchant
suffered from prevailing conditions. Thereafter the two frequently met
in the store, and finally made occasional appointments to meet in the
Grabencafé.
After the National Assembly had been dissolved Leo hastened to get in
touch with Herr Habietnik again, and in the course of the conversation
asked him for his opinion on future developments.
“Well, the Socialists are working full steam again, and will win
back the votes they lost the last time. The Christian-Socialists and
Pan-Germans have lost their heads, and haven’t come out with their
platform as yet; but of course everyone who is not a Social-Democrat
will have to vote for one of the two.”
“So that the Jewish law may remain in force?”
“Maybe, if the Socialists don’t get the two-thirds majority necessary
for every constitutional amendment. For I’m afraid that the
Christian-Socialists and Pan-Germans won’t have the courage to repeal
the special legislation against the Jews. I mean--I should say I hope,
for if the Jews come back they may eventually even take away the store
from me.”
“Nonsense,” Leo declared energetically. “No one can take from you what
you have. Perhaps they’ll buy it from you, or the former owner will
content himself with a partnership with you. But the most important
thing is that you’ll be able to throw out the Alpine hats and woolen
skirts, and will be able to arrange your displays as you used to.”
Habietnik’s eyes shone as he replied with genuine warmth:
“Yes, indeed! That’s the most important thing! When I think that there
might be life and luxury here again, as in the old days--no, that dream
is too beautiful to come true.”
“Listen here, Herr Habietnik,” said Leo, laying his hand on the
merchant’s arm, “you’re the man to make this dream come true. We
are still weeks away from the elections. That’s long enough for the
formation of a Citizens’ Party, consisting of the liberal elements,
the solid merchants, scholars, lawyers, artists, and industrialists,
with the frank and open motto: ‘The repeal of the special legislation
against the Jews!’ Take it up today, form a committee of twelve, to
include three merchants, three industrialists, three steadily employed
office workers, and three men of the free academic professions. Since
you have no newspaper at your disposal as yet, print ten thousand
posters, organize district committees, make propaganda from street to
street and from house to house, and you cannot fail to be successful. I
am a stranger and therefore not as familiar with conditions as you; but
this enables me to judge more objectively, and I am quite sure that a
considerable section of the public will greet the new party with great
enthusiasm.”
Herr Habietnik was all enthusiasm. That very evening he gathered about
fifty downtown merchants, manufacturers, and lawyers, and at one
o’clock in the morning there was organized a committee that had at its
disposal a fund amounting to millions, pledged by the members of the
group.
The new party was called “the Party of the Active Citizens of Austria,”
stood on a wholly liberal-bourgeois platform, and began its work with
an animated and thorough campaign of agitation. No one except Herr
Habietnik knew that it was the Frenchman Dufresne who composed the
leaflets and proclamations.
Their success surpassed their wildest expectations. Formerly the people
had been highly suspicious of every attempt to found a democratic
bourgeois party, because the Jews would always push themselves to
the fore. But this time it was a purely Christian matter--the names
of the leaders were sufficient guarantee that this was no conspiracy
hatched by exiled Jews--and all the people who had been harmed by the
Jewish law crowded the committee headquarters to join the new party.
They came in swarms, the merchants, the jewelers, the assistants of
the great tailors, the unemployed chauffeurs--they brought their
wives, and the rush became ever greater, in spite of the hue and cry
raised by the Christian-Socialist papers. The _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ kept
quiet, refraining from all aggression. Its chiefs knew that while the
Party of Active Citizens would doubtless take many votes from the
Social-Democrats, it would, on the other hand, attract all the votes
that usually remained uncast, and some of those that would have gone to
the Christian-Socialists and Pan-Germans. So it limited itself to an
occasional polemic against some plank of the Citizens’ platform; but
in doubtful districts there even were some secret combines of the two
parties.
As April third, the date which had been set for the election,
approached, the entire world began to show interest in the outcome. The
foreign exchanges, adopting an attitude of waiting, permitted the krone
to rest peacefully in the depths; in Vienna the excitement grew hourly,
and gave rise to repeated excesses and malignant riots. For all the
parties worked with every means at their disposal: The anti-Semites
shouted of treason, and told hair-raising stories of the international
conspiracy of the Jews; the Social-Democrats agitated against the
peasants--who, they said, were robbing the workers of the city--and
against the Christian demagogues who had only wanted to enrich
themselves through the expulsions of the Jews; the new Citizens’ Party,
however, continually put out enormous posters that demonstrated with
figures the terrible misery prevailing in Vienna since the expulsion,
and showed how the city had actually degenerated into a gigantic
village, how all the spirit and enterprise had vanished from its life.
Over and over again, in every key and variation, they asserted:
“The special legislation against the Jews must be repealed. But at
the same time it will be the business of a wise and conscientious
government to keep out those elements that did not reside in Vienna
before the world war, unless they can prove before a competent court,
composed of members of the middle and working classes, that they are
willing and able to do useful, productive, valuable work which is
essential for the common good of Austria.”
In the Chancellor’s office there were daily sessions that lasted far
into the night, where consultations were held as to the best way of
counteracting the new party and the re-invigorated Socialist group.
Schwertfeger had had the right instinct. An enormous new loan had to
be floated, the krone had to rise, so that the people would see how
solidly all Christendom stood behind them--then the government would
be victorious. Immediately after the dissolution of the Parliament
Professor Trumm, the Minister of Finance, had hurried to Berlin, Paris,
and London, to beg and to plead. In vain! The great Christian leagues
abroad, the French anti-Semites, the Dutch Christians--all expressed
their sympathy and friendship, inquired eagerly after the fate of the
many millions they had already sacrificed to the cause, and refused to
unseal their pockets again. Most disappointing of all was the reaction
of the American billionaire, Mr. Huxtable, on whom they had counted
with absolute certainty. He answered none of their telegrams or pleas;
and ten days before the election there came a cable from the Austrian
government’s confidential agent in New York, with this crushing message:
“Huxtable unapproachable. Secretly married to Jewish girl from Chicago.
Intends to sell loan given Austria three years ago to Kuhn and Loeb
Banking Company for quarter of value.”
Schwertfeger began to freeze into his now habitual gloom, the
anti-Semitic chiefs lost their heads entirely; but Mayor Laberl did
something that created a tremendous sensation. Three days before the
election he resigned from the Christian-Socialist Citizens’ Club,
and joined the Party of Active Citizens. And more than half of the
Municipal Council followed his example.
On this day a warm wind blew away the last traces of snow from the
hills about Vienna. And in the Billrothstrasse studio two young people
were clasped in an ardent and yearning embrace. He whispered:
“Oh, when will you be mine?”
And she replied dreamily:
“If you could only take off that little beard--it tickles me so!”
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ELECTION
The election called forth an interest unprecedented in all the world.
Old men, invalids, and cripples went to the ballot-boxes; and in the
afternoon, when the polls were closed, it was known that ninety-nine
per cent of the enfranchised citizens of Vienna had performed their
duty to their country. Then the counting of the votes began throughout
the land, lasting till early in the morning; and in the forenoon extra
editions of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ and the _Weltpresse_ announced the
amazing result.
Only the rural districts had remained faithful to the Christian-Socialists
and Pan-Germans. Vienna had elected the candidates of the Socialists
and the Citizens’ Party almost exclusively, as had also the smaller
towns and the industrial region of Austria. The new Parliament,
therefore, was composed as follows: Seventy Social-Democrats,
thirty-six members of the Active Citizens’ Party, thirty
Christian-Socialists, and twenty-four Pan-Germans. This gave a hundred
and six votes for the repeal of the special anti-Jewish legislation,
and fifty-four for its continuance. Leo’s beautiful dream--and that
of the liberal Citizens and Socialists--therefore seemed destroyed,
for they lacked exactly one vote for the two-thirds majority without
which the Constitution could not be amended. In spite of their
overwhelming defeat, in spite of the fact that the government had to
resign immediately to make room for a Social-Democratic ministry, the
anti-Semites were rejoicing, and paraded about the town with banners
inscribed with the slogan: “The Jews are staying out!”
Just one thing did the vanquished victors fear. The majority had
announced that it would wait only for the second session of the newly
elected House, which would take place in a week, before it would put
forward a declaration of urgency for the repeal of the Jewish law
and for the restoration of freedom of movement for everyone without
discrimination. But what would happen if a Christian-Socialist or
Pan-German deputy were to fail to appear at the session? Voluntary
absence was beyond the imagination. But, after all, one of the deputies
from the rural districts might fall ill or meet with an accident,
and this one would assure the enemy of his two-thirds majority. To
prevent such a calamity the minority parties, on the day before the
assembly of the House, ordered special trains with attendant physicians
for all their deputies. In this way they believed themselves secured
against any disastrous incident. For Vienna itself precautions were
unnecessary, for there their one and only representative was the
realtor Herr Wenzel Krötzl, elected by the vine-growers and inn-keepers
of the Nineteenth District, who were very prosperous in Jew-purged
Vienna. They were sure of him in every respect, and he enjoyed
excellent health.
Now this Herr Krötzl was Leo’s last hope, while Lotte almost broke
down under the terrible disappointment. She wept all day long, and
scarcely could muster the energy to hasten every day to Leo, who vainly
endeavored to inspire her with courage and faith in the outcome. Hofrat
Spineder, himself deeply hurt and disappointed by the continuance of
the anti-Jewish law, could understand his daughter no longer, and began
to harbor grave doubts as to her reason. He was very much worried as he
discussed her remarkable behavior with his wife.
“What in the world does it mean? She’s forgotten Leo, spends half
the day with a new lover, this Frenchman whom I’m beginning to hate
without ever having seen him, suddenly declares that she’d like to
have both Leo and Dufresne, and now, when Leo can’t come back, she sits
there and cries her eyes out. I think the girl’s out of her head!”
Frau Spineder sighed deeply.
“I can’t understand it myself, dear. I don’t know my own child any
more, and I’ve no idea as to what’s going on in her heart. But in any
case, if it develops that the Jewish law remains in force, we must
insist on meeting this M. Dufresne.”
Herr Spineder nodded.
“Yes, indeed! And if Lotte refuses again, or tries to postpone the
matter, we’ll send her to Klagenfurt, to her Aunt Minna!”...
After days and nights of strenuous thought Leo finally evolved a plan
that would decide whether he could remain in Vienna openly or would
have to go back to France. If the law were not repealed his departure
would become a matter of urgent necessity, for his friend Henry
Dufresne, whose name he bore, himself wanted to return to Paris from
southern France, and thenceforth Leo’s reckless game would be in danger
of discovery.
CHAPTER XIX.
A DISASTROUS DRINK
On the day of the opening of the National Assembly--that is, the day
before the first vital session--Leo Strakosch, equipped with a valise,
made various purchases. At Sacher’s he bought, for an outrageous sum
that once would have paid for an entire building on the Ringstrasse, a
Strassbourg _paté de foie gras_ in the original dish; and in the Hotel
Imperial he acquired three bottles of a delicious white Burgundy, three
bottles of the heaviest and most costly Bordeaux wines, and a bottle
of ancient French cognac. In the evening he waited before the entrance
of his house until he saw Herr Krötzl, about to go to a bar after the
solemn opening session of the Assembly. Leo congratulated him heartily
on his re-election, and said:
“My dear sir, I should also like to attend the historic session of the
House tomorrow. The meeting begins at eleven, so I’ll order my car for
ten o’clock; and if you’ve nothing against it, I’ll drive you over.”
Herr Krötzl felt highly flattered at the cordiality of the aristocratic
and apparently very wealthy young Frenchman. Thanking him profusely, he
accepted the invitation, adding:
“I’d be much obliged to you if you’d come to me at ten o’clock, ’cause
then I won’t be takin’ no chances of sleepin’ too late. My housekeeper,
the poor fool, might forget to wake me, an’ I sleep so sound that the
alarm can’t get me up. An’ that’d be a fine howdy-do, if I was to
oversleep tomorrow. Twenty-four hours later we’d have them damned pigs
o’ Jews back in Vienna!”
Henry Dufresne seemed to take his self-assumed task of saving Austria
from the Jews very seriously, for he rang Herr Krötzl’s doorbell
at only half-past nine. A slovenly, unwashed, but still rouged and
powdered young thing opened the door, and without further ado let in
the handsome Frenchman, whom she knew well and who was carrying a large
box. She was a little disappointed that he did not pay the slightest
attention to her and her considerably exposed body, but merely gave
her a bank-note and asked her please to fetch the morning papers
immediately from the store.
In the anteroom Leo made a great to-do about unpacking his box until
the girl had gone out on her errand; then he went quickly into the
kitchen, set the cuckoo clock back a full hour, tip-toed out into
the living-room and did the same to the grandfather clock there,
and finally, without knocking, noiselessly entered the door of the
Deputy’s bed-room, where the honorable gentleman lay under the covers,
thunderous snores issuing from his open mouth. Leo immediately
discovered the gold watch on the night table, pointing to a quarter of
ten. In a flash it was set to a quarter of nine, and then the Frenchman
entered on the unpleasant task of waking Herr Krötzl, the Viennese
pillar of the Christian-Socialist party. It took quite some time before
Krötzl at last opened his swollen little eyes and grasped the situation.
“Oh, Lord, it’s Herr Dufresne--is it as late as all that?” Then,
glancing at his watch, he growled: “’Tain’t even nine yet! I could ’a’
slept another hour!”
“Yes,” laughed Leo, “but I know a better way of entertaining you and
myself. Just think, when I came home last night I found a package from
Paris, and in it the best wines of France. Well, since I’m really happy
about your success, I thought we could celebrate our victory a little,
just we two, before we go on to the Parliament. For you, my dear sir,
being a connoisseur, will soon admit that never in all your life have
you tasted a wine to compare with the one I’ll pour out for you now.”
Electrified, Herr Krötzl leaped out of his bed, got partly dressed, and
admiringly stroked one after the other the six wine-bottles that stood
before him with all the earmarks of venerable age. There was white
bread, and the Strassbourg patty drew from Herr Krötzl a half-belch,
half-grunt that became a hymn of joy as the first glass of the golden
Burgundy trickled down his throat.
“W’at a wine! If I c’d have that all the time I’d be a diff’rent guy!
No wonder you Frenchies know how to live, if you got wine like this!”
The second glass was drained to the victory of Herr Krötzl, the third
to “Down with the Jews,” the fourth to “Long live beautiful Vienna,
free of Jews.” Then the neck of a bottle of blood-red Bordeaux was
broken, and when only the dregs were left in it, and Leo was uncorking
the third bottle, Krötzl declared he loved him like a brother. At the
fourth bottle he acquainted the Frenchman with the secrets of his
sexual life, and proclaimed that skirts over fourteen was nothin’
more nor less’n old women. When they reached the sixth bottle Leo,
unobserved by the half-dazed and quite dizzy Krötzl, mixed the wine
with an equal amount of cognac; but now they had to stop, for else it
would have been impossible ever to bring the worthy Deputy downstairs.
Besides, the correct time was twelve o’clock, so that there was danger
of Krötzl’s colleagues coming in at any moment to look for him.
Leo’s own sobriety after this drinking party was due solely to the
circumstance that he had each time emptied the contents of his glass
under the table, on the beautiful Persian rug.
With hard work Leo finished dressing the deputy, practically carried
him down several flights of stairs, and, with the assistance of the
chauffeur, put him in the interior of the closed car. The chauffeur had
grinned as he nodded to the Frenchman, whom he often drove about the
town. Leo entered, sat down beside Krötzl, who was lying in the corner
dead drunk, and the car rolled forward at moderate speed.
The day before Leo had had an important conference with the chauffeur,
beginning with the question:
“How’d you like to make a hundred French francs?”
The chauffeur’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers, his face had
flushed and he had gasped:
“Sir, I’ll take you to the moon for a hundred francs!”
But the Frenchman’s demands proved much more modest. He said that he
wanted to settle a wager, and that the chauffeur would merely have to
wait before the house in the Billrothstrasse until he, M. Dufresne,
would enter the car with a presumably very tipsy gentleman. Thereupon
the automobile was to go townward to the Opera, where the Frenchman
would get out. Then the ride was to continue to the large insane asylum
in Steinhof, far out in the extreme southwestern section of the city.
There the chauffeur was to wait until his inebriated fare would give a
sign of life. This was followed by further detailed instructions for
the quick-witted chauffeur.
Everything went off as had been planned. Even before the car reached
the Opera Herr Krötzl, after a violent attack of sickness, was enjoying
the sleep of the just tippler, so that his companion could leave him
without any difficulty. While Leo hastened to the Parliament the
chauffeur continued on his half hour’s ride to Steinhof; once there
he calmly stopped in the middle of the road, and smoked one of Leo’s
good cigarettes after the other. It was nearly two o’clock when Herr
Krötzl finally woke up, his head throbbing. Minutes passed before
he remembered where he was, and realized that he was all alone in
an automobile, and covered with filth from head to foot. Finally,
after some more minutes, he saw that he was not before the Parliament
Building at all, but in the immediate vicinity of the insane asylum
in Steinhof. Confused he consulted his watch, which, being an hour
slow, pointed to one o’clock. Horrified, Krötzl flung open the door,
and vented a furious flood of abuse on the chauffeur, who declared
with equanimity that he had understood Steinhof to be indicated as the
goal, and that the other gentleman had got out on the way. Thereupon
Krötzl tore his hair, wept and shouted, almost went raving mad, called
the chauffeur a traitor, hinted at a fearful conspiracy and revenge,
and finally pleaded with the driver, who was fast losing his polite
attitude, to drive to the Parliament Building at full speed.
The car actually went back about a thousand yards; then, however,
it stopped, far away from any human habitation, and the chauffeur,
shrugging his shoulders, announced that he could not go on, as the
motor was out of order.
Entirely sober by this time, Krötzl now sprinted the thousand yards
back to the insane asylum. There he confronted the door-man with so
much vehemence that the good fellow took him for an escaped inmate,
and summoned some keepers. Another half hour passed before Krötzl was
taken to a telephone; he could not, of course, be connected with the
Parliament Building immediately, as all its lines were busy; and when
he finally did get his connection, and the secretary of his party came
to the other end of the wire, a voice shouted in his ear that he was a
drunken swine, a crook, bought and paid for by the Jews, and that all
was over long ago.
“The Jewish law has been repealed!” With these words ringing in his
ears the wretched Deputy fell in a profound and beneficent swoon.
CHAPTER XX.
THE REPEAL OF THE ANTI-JEWISH LAW
When Leo entered the Parliament Building the newly elected Presiding
Officer had just greeted the ministers he had chosen the day before to
replace the old cabinet, and had informed the Assembly that there had
been presented two declarations of urgency to the effect that Paragraph
Eleven of the Constitution, prohibiting sojourn in Austria to Jews or
persons of Jewish origin, should be repealed.
A Social-Democratic deputy rose to move that the declarations of
urgency be taken up immediately. In spite of the noisy objection of the
Christian-Socialists and Pan-Germans the majority voted for the motion,
whereupon the Presiding Officer gave the floor to Dr. Wolters, the
leader of the Social-Democrats, as the first speaker in favor of the
proposal.
Wolters pointed out that he and the other members of his party had
opposed the law even three years ago as a direct blow at the most
sacred rights of man, and as indicative of retrogression into the
darkest of the Dark Ages. At that time the opposition had been hooted
down, abused, and crowded out of the hall; today, however, the once
misled and deluded people had brought them back in such numbers that
the power now lay in their hands and in those of other liberal-minded
men. Continuing, Wolters sketched the events of the past few years,
pointed to the terrible collapse of Austria, cited striking statistics,
and closed with these words:
“The audacious, too audacious, work of the man who once assumed divine
powers and now could not even obtain a seat in this House, has gone to
pieces; outside a hundred thousand unemployed citizens, together with
all our working but desperate people, are waiting for the new House to
open our gates to a new future, and to give our Jewish fellow-citizens
the opportunity to work again side by side with us--not against us--to
employ their intelligence, their industry, and their creative force in
the interests of our sorely tried and almost ruined country.”
After the applause, to which the galleries contributed their share,
had died down, the second majority speaker, Herr Habietnik, who had
been elected by the downtown business men, was given the floor. In
a whimsical speech, frequently interrupted by loud laughter, he
described the poverty-stricken, provincialized Vienna of the day,
regaled his audience with tales of his experiences in his line of
business, and declared:
“The tiniest hamlet is a metropolis compared with Vienna today. Vienna
has become a huge village with a million and a half inhabitants, and if
we don’t let the Jews in now we’ll soon see country fair booths in the
Kärtnerstrasse instead of exclusive shops, and live stock markets being
conducted on the Stephansplatz. This retrogression, against which they
are powerless to do anything, has brought profound despair into the
hearts of the citizens of Vienna. By deserting the Christian-Socialist
party the Viennese women and girls have not been the last to indicate
that they want to have again a flourishing, gay Vienna, a city of
luxurious life, even though it may have a slight Oriental tinge.”
Herr Habietnik’s further remarks were lost in an odd restlessness that
was spreading over the house. What had happened? The Right had at last
discovered that Deputy Krötzl was absent, and the Christian-Socialists
and Pan-Germans were in a panic. They did not even listen to their own
speaker, but sent out ushers with automobiles to fetch Krötzl from his
downtown office or from his house in the Billrothstrasse.
The situation might have been saved if someone had had the presence
of mind to prompt the minority speaker to continue his speech for
hours, until Krötzl should put in his appearance. But they had lost
their heads entirely; the Christian-Socialist speaker, Herr Wurm,
even curtailed his speech when he noticed the disturbance and saw his
colleagues going out. And in a few minutes a Citizens’ motion to close
the debate and set a five minute limit for all further speeches was
passed by the required two-thirds majority.
In vain did the surprised anti-Semites make a loud outcry; the
Socialist Presiding Officer ruled with an iron hand, and permitted
none of the previously announced speakers to talk for more than five
minutes. Laboring under terrific tension, and greatly agitated, the
deputies poured back into the hall in order to be present at the
forth-coming roll-call.
Herr Krötzl had not yet arrived; the ushers could report only that he
had not been in his office at all, and had left his home in the morning
in a noticeably flushed state, accompanied by another gentleman.
A Pan-German made the last attempt to save the day. Requesting and
being given the floor to speak on standing orders, he said:
“Deputy Krötzl is not present, and we have indications that he is being
detained by force; indeed, we have cause to fear that he is the victim
of foul play. This being the case, the House cannot possibly vote on a
law that will determine the fate of our country. If the new majority of
this House possesses the slightest sense of decency it will agree with
me that we must immediately adjourn for two hours. During that time we
shall probably learn whether our esteemed colleague, Deputy Krötzl, is
still among the living.”
The import of these words could not be ignored. They were followed by a
dead silence.
If Krötzl had really been prevented by force from attending the
session, they would have to wait, _voli-noli_.
At this most critical moment a gentleman with a little beard came on
the floor furtively and unobserved; he beckoned Herr Habietnik to him,
and, breathing hard with agitation, whispered something in his ear,
whereupon Herr Habietnik asked for permission to speak.
“I can give the honorable House my word as a gentleman that Herr
Krötzl has not been murdered; nor has he been prevented by force
from attending this exceedingly important session. At the present
moment Herr Krötzl is somewhere in our city, in an automobile, so
soundly asleep as the result of indulging in the flowing bowl that the
chauffeur is unable to rouse him. For the estimable Herr Krötzl, this
sole Viennese ornament of the Christian-Socialist party, undertook
in a small way, to celebrate his victory early this morning, in the
company of a jolly neighbor; and he drank decidedly more than he could
stand. His neighbor, who has given me this information, and whom I know
personally as a reliable man of honor, then entered a taxicab together
with Krötzl to come here. But he had to get out before they reached
their destination, as he could no longer endure the stench in the car.
For Herr Krötzl belongs to the old guard that would rather give up than
die. I don’t know where the thoroughly alive corpse of Herr Krötzl
happens to be just now; but this doesn’t concern us, and surely no one
will demand that we adjourn until Herr Krötzl has sobered up.”
The House rocked with laughter; and now the Presiding Officer called
the roll. One hundred and six deputies voted for the elimination of the
special anti-Jewish legislation, fifty-three against--and the law was
repealed!
This time the hundred thousand men and women who were waiting on the
street before the building cried “Hurrah!” instead of “Hail!” They were
not as enthusiastic as three years before, but seemed a little ashamed
of themselves. However, they had recovered their sense of humor, and
jests began to fly through the air again.
Immediately after the vote Leo rushed out of the Parliament Building,
jumped into a taxicab, and sped to the Linke Wienzeile, to the
_Arbeiter-Zeitung_. There, pleading urgent business, he obtained an
audience with the editor-in-chief, conversing with him privately for
half an hour. As he was about to depart the editor warmly shook both
his hands, laughing:
“You’ve accomplished something extraordinary, and I rejoice with you
with all my heart. I can’t help admiring your impudence! Really, it’s
impossible not to....”
“Call it Jewish impudence,” Leo supplemented gaily as he hurried down
the stairs.
* * * * *
The extra editions of the newspapers, announcing the end of the
exclusion of the Jews, had barely appeared before a second extra
edition of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ was cried out:
“THE KRONE IS RISING!”
“Zurich: The telegraphed and telephoned reports of the decisive
session of the Viennese National Assembly were watched with feverish
interest on the stock exchange here. The definite news of the repeal
of the anti-Jewish law was immediately followed by large purchases
of kronen, the buyers including groups of American and English
financiers. The stamped Austrian krone doubled its value by leaps and
bounds, and had tripled it by closing time.”
At six o’clock in the evening there appeared a third extra edition that
attracted attention throughout Vienna and called forth great merriment
mixed with slightly off-color jokes. The announcement was as follows:
“FIRST JEW ARRIVES IN VIENNA.”
“We have the honor to inform the public that the first Jew has just
returned to Vienna from his exile. He is the young but already
world-famous painter and etcher Leo Strakosch, who, longing for
his own country, spent the period of banishment in Paris, leaving
that city the day before yesterday to proceed to Lundenburg, on
the Austro-Moravian border. When the news of the nullification of
the expulsion law was telephoned to him he immediately went on by
automobile to his native Vienna. At the present time he is staying
at the home of his future father-in-law, Hofrat Spineder, in the
Kobenzlgasse, where he is now embracing his faithful and loving
fiancée after years of dreary separation and waiting.”
This extra edition represented a well-meant bit of mischievous
pleasantry on the part of the editor-in-chief of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_.
It was followed by an extra edition of the _Weltpresse_, containing
two sensational news items. One was to the effect that the former
Chancellor, Dr. Schwertfeger, despondent over the wreck of his nobly
and sincerely conceived work, had committed suicide by means of a
bullet. The other was an announcement by the _Weltpresse_ that,
submitting to the will of the overwhelming majority of the inhabitants
of Vienna, it would thenceforth appear as the organ of the new Party of
Active Citizens.
CHAPTER XXI.
“MY BELOVED JEW!”
From the office of the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ Leo had of course gone
directly to Grinzing. Lotte, who, together with her parents, was
already aware of the results of the Parliamentary session, was waiting
for her lover at an open window on the ground floor. And when the
automobile drove up and Leo saw her, the passage through the hall
seemed too long for him, he swung himself through the window, and an
instant later the two young people were in each other’s arms, laughing
and weeping at once. In spite of his athletic skill, however, Leo had
broken a window-pane when he made his short-cut into the house; and as
this caused an audible crash, the Hofrat and his wife, alarmed, hurried
in from the neighboring living-room, only to stop in amazement at the
sight of their daughter being covered with kisses by a strange bearded
man. Until the Hofrat began to cough so energetically that Lotte heard
him and, flushing deeply, extricated herself from her lover’s arms to
present him to her parents:
“Papa--Mama--this is my fiancé, Henry Dufresne!”
“Leo Strakosch by rights,” he added as he threw himself in the arms of
the Hofrat and of his future mother-in-law.
After the joy and confusion of the surprise had abated a little, Herr
Spineder did what a Hofrat should do in such a case. He added: “Now,
children, tell me everything just as it happened.”
And Frau Spineder did what any good housewife would have done in her
place. She cried, declared that she was so excited she couldn’t see
straight, and hurried into the kitchen to prepare a supper to fit the
occasion.
In the meanwhile the Hofrat, Lotte and Leo conversed in the bathroom,
where Leo cut off his beard with a pair of scissors before he shaved
and told his story simultaneously. And it was fortunate he did so, for
just as he finished shaving and again was a handsome, smooth-faced
young man, something quite unexpected happened.
There drove up an automobile containing Herr Habietnik, a Socialist
Deputy, and a converted Municipal Councillor, who informed Leo that
he absolutely had to go to the City Hall with them in order to appear
before the crowds gathered there, and to endure an address by the Mayor.
It was useless to resist--Leo was forced to go along; but Lotte, who
assumed the responsibility of bringing him back in time for the evening
meal, went with him.
They rode on undisturbed until they reached the Schottentor, where
their course was obstructed. For here the crowd was so dense that the
car could not go on. Whereupon the Municipal Councillor leaned out, and
with excellent intentions, though not very tactfully, shouted to the
people:
“Hey, let’s get through! Herr Leo Strakosch, the first Jew to come back
to Vienna, has to go to the City Hall!”
These words called forth a thunderous shout of joy. The car was not
permitted to pass, but had to wait there with Lotte; Leo, however, now
found himself on the shoulders of two sturdy men, and was borne to the
City Hall amid the exultant cheers and yells of the masses.
The beautiful building was illuminated again, looked once more like a
flaming torch; the men who bore Leo on their shoulders had difficulty
in making their way there. And as the trumpets blared the Mayor of
Vienna, Herr Karl Maria Laberl, stepped out on the balcony, stretched
out his arms in a gesture of benediction, and pronounced an impassioned
speech that began with the words:
“My beloved Jew!”
_THE END_
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
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