Philippa Carr - [Daughters of England ]

by Gossamer Cord

  “It’s rather like Caddington,” I said. “We know something about the managing of estates, don’t we, Dorabella?”

  “Oh, yes. Our father is always busy and our brother will take over one day, I suppose. That sort of thing goes on in families like ours.”

  “That’s so. I think it would be a good idea if I stayed here for a meal tonight. Then I can grope my way back to my hotel through the mist later on.”

  So we talked and eventually Edward and Kurt returned. When they heard about our adventure in the forest Edward looked very severe and reprimanded us for not being more careful. Hadn’t we been warned often enough about the mist in the forest?

  It was a merry party when we had dinner that night. Dermot was invited to share the meal in the private dining room with the family and everyone seemed to treat him as a hero because he had brought us out of the forest.

  Edward was particularly grateful. He told us more than once that he had promised our mother to look after us. How could he have known that we should have been so foolhardy as to get ourselves lost? It was not even that the mist had come up suddenly. Dorabella begged him not to go on and on. She herself was delighted that she had gone into the forest. Otherwise how could Dermot Tregarland have shown them how gallant and clever he was by rescuing us?

  Hans Brandt told some stories about people who had been lost in the forest.

  “There are so many legends about these parts. Some people are sure the trolls are still around and they come out of their hiding places under cover of the mist.”

  We sat, warm and content, in the comfort of the schloss and the merry company.

  We lingered over the table while Dermot told stories of his native Cornwall which could match those of Hans Brandt. We laughed a great deal at the simplicity of folk and the amazing stories which could be handed down from generation to generation.

  We could hear the sounds from the bar lounge where people were still drinking, as was their custom. There was no one in the Beer Garden on this night on account of the mist.

  It had been a wonderful evening—a pleasant finale to the holiday, for in a few days we should be returning home. I watched Dorabella. She was looking so happy and I felt a twinge of anxiety. She scarcely knew this young man. Then I reminded myself that this was not the first incident of this kind. There had been a friend of our grandfather Greenham…some Member of Parliament who had been staying at Marchlands briefly. She had been very taken with him. But that had been about two years ago. He had turned out to be a devoted husband and father of children. She had quickly recovered from that. Then there had been a man at school who had come for a term to teach music. He had been another. It was all right. This was just Dorabella’s enthusiasm of the moment. On those other occasions she had been a schoolgirl, of course. Now she was grown up.

  If Dermot Tregarland was not married, if she saw him again…this might just turn out to be not like one of those incidents. He lived some way from us. Perhaps in a few weeks he would become just another of those passing encounters…he would just be a part of the holiday in the Böhmerwald.

  However, we parted on very friendly terms that night, and I knew Dorabella had a somewhat restless night.

  Edward had made arrangements to go on another jaunt with Kurt the next day and, as we had behaved so foolishly, he refused to leave us behind on this occasion.

  A party should be made up which included Dorabella, myself, and Gretchen.

  Gretchen was delighted to come with us. I fancied that she was attracted by Edward, as he was by her; but she did not show her feelings—in fact neither of them did—as blatantly as Dorabella showed hers.

  Dorabella herself was inclined to be sulky; she would have preferred to go into Waldenburg, and drink coffee so that Dermot could have joined us, but Edward was adamant and so we went off with the party.

  It was a pleasant day; the weather had changed again; the skies were blue and we were back in summer. Kurt knew the forest well; there were several roads cut through it and he wanted to show us some of the charming little villages.

  I enjoyed it very much; the small hamlets were very attractive with their mellowed brick houses, their cobbled streets, their old churches, and their general air of orderliness.

  The people were very friendly. We had lunch in an old inn, with the sign of a mermaid outside—Die Lorelei it was called, and we recalled the poem we had learned at school and Gretchen recited it for us. She had a sweet, tremulous voice, and Edward led the applause.

  We were taken down to see the ancient wine cellars and were told that at one time the inn had been part of a monastery, and the cellars were those in which the monks had once made their wine.

  It was all very pleasant, but Dorabella was impatient to return, because in the evening Dermot Tregarland would be joining us at the schloss for dinner.

  I shall never forget that night and the disaster which was all the more horrific because it was so sudden. It was as though the faces of benign friends suddenly changed into those of monsters before one’s eyes, leaving us quite bewildered because we were so unprepared.

  When we returned from our day’s sightseeing, Dorabella and I changed in our room, Dorabella putting on the best of the dresses she had brought with her. She was in high spirits. She was certain now that the end of the holiday would not be the end of her friendship with Dermot Tregarland.

  She chattered while we dressed and said how much she would like to see that place of his. It sounded fun and it was not really so very far away. She was going to suggest to our mother that we ask Dermot to Caddington.

  He had arrived before we went down. We were going to eat in the inn that night. The family would be busy and would not dine until much later. Kurt and Gretchen would join us.

  It was a pleasant meal, with lots of merry chatter, and afterwards we went into the inn parlor, where there were more people than usual. But we managed to get a table to ourselves.

  It must have been about nine o’clock when a party of young men came in. It occurred to me at once that I had seen one of them before. I remembered immediately. He was Else’s young man, the one whom I had seen delivering a parcel at the coffee shop.

  He looked different. He was wearing some sort of uniform, as were his friends. On his right sleeve was an armlet. I wondered if he had come to see Else.

  They sat at a table and Else served them with beer. They joked with her and the young man laid a proprietorial hand on her arm. The group laughed loudly. They said something to Else, who nodded in the direction of the dining room. The young man began to sing one of the songs I had often heard. It was something about the Fatherland. Quite a number joined in. Then Helmut came into the parlor accompanied by his father.

  That was the signal.

  Else’s young man, who was obviously the leader, stood up suddenly and shouted something about Jews.

  Pandemonium began. Someone hurled a tankard at the wall. Others did the same. One threw his at Helmut. It very narrowly missed him.

  Dermot put his arm round Dorabella and she hid her face against him. Edward took my arm and pulled me to my feet and at the same time seized Gretchen.

  He said: “They are going to start a riot. We’d better get out of here.”

  Gretchen whispered: “Helmut…”

  Kurt had gone to his brother’s side. He was very pale. The two of them stood side by side facing Else’s young man. The rest of the people in the room remained in their seats with looks of amazed horror on their faces.

  Else’s young man had leaped up to stand on one of the tables. He began haranguing the people. I heard the name of Führer mentioned several times. He was shouting and I wished I could understand what he was saying, but I did realize that he was inciting them to join with him in his fury, which was directed against the schloss and its inmates.

  Dermot said quietly: “We’d better get out of this.”

  At that moment one of the tables was overturned and the air was filled with the sound of breaking glass. />
  Helmut said to Edward: “Get the girls out of here. Take Gretchen. This is no quarrel of yours.”

  I felt sickened by the look of hopeless despair I saw on Helmut’s face. I did not know then what this was all about except that the young man and his friends seemed to be intent on destroying the place.

  It was all so sudden…so inexplicable. Edward was dragging me with Gretchen toward the door. Dermot held Dorabella. One of the young men was watching us but he made no attempt to stop us. I had the idea that they were aware that we were foreigners and he was glad to see us go. In the room beyond the inn parlor Frau Brandt was standing, her hands across her breast and a look of abject terror on her face. I thought I had never seen such fear before. She was shaking.

  I put an arm around her.

  “They’re here…” she murmured. “At last…they are here…”

  “Who…are they?” I asked.

  “They are intent on destroying us.”

  “You know them?”

  “We are not the first. But how did they guess? We have never…”

  We could hear the noises from beyond. They were destroying the inn parlor.

  Frau Brandt sat down and covered her face with her hands. Gretchen went to her and knelt beside her. “Mutter…” she whispered, trembling.

  Frau Brandt stroked her daughter’s hair.

  “It has come,” she said. “It is here. I had hoped…”

  I felt sick with horror.

  Dermot said: “There must be something we can do. Shouldn’t we get in touch with the police?”

  Gretchen said: “It would be no use. These people…it is what they do now. We are not the first. We did not think they would bother with us. We are so small…we are far from the town. We always believed they would not bother with us…until now. We are Jewish. It is something which it is good to hide these days.”

  “We should go out and give a hand,” said Edward. “Clear them off.”

  “Yes,” agreed Dermot. “Come on.”

  Gretchen clung to Edward. “No…no,” she said. “You must not interfere with them. They will break up the room and go away.”

  “Kurt…Helmut…your father…they are there.”

  Gretchen still clung to Edward’s arm.

  Dermot said: “I’m going out there. You ladies stay here.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Edward.

  I could not understand then what it meant. I just listened in horror. I could hear them singing one of the songs which I was beginning to know by heart.

  Then suddenly there was quiet.

  Edward was out there, I thought. In danger, perhaps. What I had seen of those young men had led me to believe they were intent on destruction.

  Because Edward was there I had to know what was happening. I opened the door cautiously. It was a strange sight which met my eyes. The room was in chaos. There were upturned tables and broken glass everywhere. The young men were all standing very still at attention; they were singing, their hands raised as though in a salute.

  The customers remained seated, nervously fingering their glasses; they were mute, dazed. Not one of them, I was aware, had attempted to stop the upheaval which had been started by Else’s young man and his half dozen friends. They had allowed these thugs to break up the place. The singing stopped. Else’s young man came forward to where Helmut was standing in the midst of the ravages of the room. He stood before him and then deliberately spat into his face and said: “Jew.”

  When he turned away, Helmut’s hands were clenched. Kurt caught hold of him. I thought at first Helmut was going to strike the young man.

  The young man was looking straight at me. He stared for a moment. Then he clicked his heels and bowed. He turned away, collected his followers and they filed out of the schloss. I heard the sound of the starting up of car engines and then they drove away.

  All the customers were slinking away in relief and, I fancied, with an expression of guilt. We stood in the room then, assessing the damage. There was broken glass everywhere. Several tables had been overturned and some chairs were in pieces. But it was not the damage which was responsible for the oppressive gloom. It was what it indicated. There was so much I had to learn, but I knew this was not an isolated disaster. It was an evil portent.

  I heard Frau Brandt whisper in agonized tones: “What are we going to do? What will become of us all?”

  I think that was what was in all their minds.

  It was late when Dermot went back to his hotel in the town. He said he would come back tomorrow early and help with the clearing up. He could not understand why the Brandts did not call in the police. It was a pure case of unprovoked vandalism.

  They did not want to speak of it that night. They were too shocked to do so. Frau Brandt’s attitude told me more than anyone else’s. I sensed in it a certain resignation, an acceptance of something that was inevitable.

  It was late when Dorabella and I retired to our bedroom. We were both subdued.

  She said that Dermot had been marvelous. He had looked after her so carefully. But I did not want to talk of Dermot. My thoughts were with the Brandts.

  We did not sleep much that night. I doubt anyone in the schloss did.

  The few guests who were staying had breakfast in the public dining room as Edward, Dorabella, and I did.

  Afterwards we went into the damaged room where Kurt and the rest of the family were attempting to restore some order. Edward rolled up his sleeves and worked energetically.

  Dorabella and I did what we could. The main difficulty was the broken glass which seemed to have embedded itself in everything.

  During the morning Dermot arrived to help. He was very angry. He said it was shameful. He had talked to the people at his hotel and they had said it was happening all over Germany. The Führer wanted a pure race in Germany and that did not include Jews.

  It had never occurred to me that the Brandts were Jewish. There had never been any reason to mention it. Edward said he may have heard it and thought no more about it. Kurt was his friend and his race would make no difference to that.

  That morning we learned what was happening in Germany.

  We had worked for several hours and cleaned most of the debris; we had taken away the broken chairs, set up all the upturned tables, washed a great deal of the stains from the walls which had been made by the tankards of beer which had been thrown against them; and in the dim light the room did not look much different from what it had before the debacle had begun.

  We were all tired and sat down together. Gloom hung over us as thick as the forest mist.

  It was no use ignoring it, and I am sure we found a slight relief in talking of it.

  Kurt said: “It had to happen sooner or later. I am only sorry that it was during your visit. I am ashamed that you should have seen it. It is a blight on our nation. But you must not go away and think: ‘This is the Germans.’ It fills many of us with sorrow. It is an ulcerous growth…a cancer. It fills us with shame and, yes, fear. From one day to the next we do not know what our fate will be.”

  “It is monstrous,” cried Dermot. “How can people let it happen? These thugs—they are nothing more—come with their songs and slogans…and dare do that! And they get away with it. I think one of the most shameful aspects of the case is that it was allowed to happen and nothing was done about it.”

  “It has been so for some time,” said Hans. “These people are members of the Hitler Youth of the Nazi Party. When Adolf Hitler became Chancellor in 1933 he put Baldur von Schirach in charge of the youth of the country. German boys of ten were registered for what they call Racial Purity and known as the Deutsche Jungvolk. They are investigated to make sure they have no ‘alien’ blood, and if not, they are eligible at the age of thirteen to join the Hitler Youth Movement, the Hitler Jugend. At the age of eighteen they graduate from this and become members of the Nazi Party.”

  “Whose aim it is to go round the country breaking up people’s homes!” cried Dermot indi
gnantly.

  “They are what are called Aryans, it seems.”

  “It’s monstrous,” said Edward. “This can’t go on.”

  “It has been going on for some time,” said Kurt, “and it grows worse.”

  “Do you mean to say,” cried Edward, “that you live in fear that this sort of thing may happen at any minute?”

  “I have lived with that fear for some time now.”

  “And the people stand by and allow it!”

  “They can do nothing else. The Führer has done so much for the country. We were in a dreadful state. Our currency was worthless…our people in desperation. We are not a race to sit down quietly and accept such a fate. We do something about it. We were defeated in the war and for that we had to suffer poverty and humiliation. Then this man came. He did much good. It is unfortunate for us that he hates our race. I sometimes believe that he wants to exterminate us completely.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Dermot. “And this can’t go on. It’s ridiculous. And all these people who were there did nothing to stop it!”

  “They were wise. No one can stand against the Nazis. They are in control.”

  “It seems incredible that people could be allowed to behave so.”

  “It is difficult for you to understand. But this is Germany.”

  “Do you mean,” said Edward, “that tonight they may come along and do the same thing again?”

  “I do not think they will do that. We are not important enough. We are only small people. They will go somewhere else. They have warned us…that is all. They want us to go away. But we have lived here all our lives…our forefathers were here before us. That means nothing to them. They do not like our race.”

  Every one of us wished we knew how to comfort them. But there was no comfort we could offer.

  We were all subdued. I had no desire to go out again. The fairy-tale villages had lost their charm for me. They had a beautiful exterior behind which evil lurked. I just wanted to get away, to go home, where everything would be normal. I looked back over those enjoyable days before I had seen that spectacle of destruction, but I could not forget the expression in the eyes of Else’s lover. How could a young man like that behave as he had? He had no pity for the innocent people he had attacked. I could have understood if there had been a quarrel and he had lost his temper, but it had all been done in cold blood. It was a senseless, calculated attack on people because they were of a different race from his own.