The Reed Warbler Read online

  The first owl of the evening hooted – there always had to be a first one, it was over in the woods somewhere, a little bit early – and there always had to be a first song, and almost always the person who started had to be Elke. The song she started by knocking her beer mug on the table was ‘Du, du liegst mir im Herzen’, You, you lie in my heart! – it used to be Mutti’s favourite, of course Elke knew that, and soon they were all singing it, including Mathilde while Catharina looked at her with devotion, and Papa was wiping his eyes and nose with big swipes of his shirt sleeve, and taking good swallows of his beer between verses.

  There was a half moon like a ghost in the sky over the fjord. They would go on singing more songs for a while until it was almost dark, and then Herr Mayer and his wife would return to Gaarden, with Tante Elizabeth and Mathilde in the buggy with a coach lamp and Herr Mayer riding ahead. The animals knew the way, and so did Josephina when she went inside to get lamps to hang in the pear tree, because she and Elke and Papa would sit out there for a while longer, with the moths, and Johannes would come sneaking out and sit down to have another beer now that the others had gone, and then she’d carry the sleeping Catharina in to Papa and Mutti’s big bed where she and Catharina and Elke would be sleeping that night, where Elke and Johannes would be sleeping the night after their wedding, and perhaps if she left the lanterns lit in the pear tree Greta and Danne would see them as they came up the fjord later that night past the Schwentine towards Kielerhafen – Look, they’d say, I wonder if Josie and Catharina are there?

  Wolf Bloch

  To Friedrich Engels, in Primrose Hill, London

  My dear Engels

  I am writing first and foremost to send you my and Theodora’s sincere condolences on the death of your beloved Lydia – your ‘Lizzie’. We were saddened by the news, as were the friends and comrades who were assembled here at Bloch House when the post came. We drank a toast to Lydia’s memory, and in your honour also, and on behalf of the Hamburg chapter of the Socialist Workers’ Party. The Party’s members hold you in high regard despite our colleague Marx’s severe critique of Gotha, which they continue to discuss of course as I’m sure you can imagine, despite which I’m happy to report that our soireés at Bloch House remain congenial much like yours at Primrose Hill, so I am told. I hope that you will be able in time to enjoy again the good life you have so generously advocated for by your own hospitable example, and that you will continue to find joy in music and poetry, as we do. In the meantime, please allow us the honour of sharing your grief. Its dark clouds will disperse, I am sure, and the sun will once again shine on Primrose Hill.

  I am sure, too, that we are both still mourning the recent death of our dear friend and inspiration Ferdinand Freiligrath, while taking comfort in the knowledge that his poems and the memory of his laughter will prevail over sadness.

  I also hope that your eyes are better than they were last time we exchanged letters. That seems a long time ago, and now we need clear sight and indeed foresight more than ever before. At the time of our last communication we were preoccupied with our friend and comrade Pasquale Martignetti, whose situation here in Hamburg we were able to resolve, with your great kindness and generous advice, to his satisfaction and that of his excellent wife Signora Maria Martignetti and their charming daughter Alessandra. We have often enjoyed their company and indeed the bottled ‘sole del sud’ the Signor has kindly provided. Back then, despite the surveillance to which you have long been subjected in England, we were saying only, with professional caution, that the situation of socialists in Hamburg was becoming worse by the day! But now, as you will have heard, we have reached a threshold well beyond that understatement. Bismarck’s laws, recently enacted, have come as no surprise given the unconcealed harassment and intimidation of socialists here in Hamburg as elsewhere in Germany since the establishment of the Empire. Clearly the Chancellor fears revolution, and he is not wrong, since efforts to improve the conditions of workers are now treated as sedition.

  Poor Martignetti and his family have once again had to flee these oppressions. There were, and are, spies keeping watch over Herr Johannes Paul’s businesses where, thanks to your intervention, our friend Pasquale was employed as a notary, and these stool pigeons had begun to take an interest in him. They had also begun to ask questions of others employed in the manufacturing and trading departments of the Paul & Steinberg enterprises, some of which, such as the sewing room, had become well known as models of good worker conditions. Theodora and I must take some responsibility for this, since we have published careful accounts of both the good and the bad in the Bürger Zeitung, as you well know. Copies of your Conditions are treated as though they were infected with English cholera, and disposed of accordingly. It seems nothing has changed in thirty years. Paul & Steinberg have now forfeited their profitable military contracts, and the Martignettis have gone to Bremen and will almost certainly travel on from there to America, the ‘land of the free’. And indeed of Freiligrath’s comrade-poet, Henry Longfellow!

  Our Bloch House soirées, while remaining congenial occasions for discussion, have now become furtive and take place behind closed curtains, which we find necessary but offensive and even shameful. Some of our most frequently welcomed guests have recently declined our invitations. Their reasons are simple: if they are perceived to be meeting regularly in the company of known ‘subversives’, they risk banishment or worse. Our discussions now focus more often than not on what it is both useful and prudent to publish in the Bürger Z.

  And so I come at last to the news that I have remained unwilling to share with you, my dear comrade, overburdened as you are with your own unhappy circumstances. It is clear that we must close down the Bürger Zeitung before the state does that for us and seizes our few assets, and that Theodora and I must anticipate the order to leave Hamburg, and go by our own volition to Bremen, where we may have some time to take stock. The evil that is happening now may be short-lived, we can only hope so. However, my old Ostjuden instincts tell me that this is unlikely to happen in the near future, and in fact I fear there will be worse to come. And so my own inclination is to keep on going, not ‘west and a bit north’, as we used to say, but rather across the ocean to a place that has not yet begun to rot under the weight of its corrupt history.

  Forgive my vehemence, dear Engels, and let me finish by saying our work, and yours especially, will not be wasted. But we must survive, after all, as you have done under constant duress, but always with hope and belief in our capacities to do good.

  Theodora, my dear older sister and companion in good and bad times, and a true warrior for our cause, asks to be respectfully remembered to you.

  And so, until the next letter, from who knows where

  I remain

  Your admiring and devoted friend and comrade

  Wolf Bloch

  Josephina

  Theodora’s very friendly kiss surprised her and ended with a little warm huff that had the smell of coffee on it – would Josephina like some? She’d missed her so much, she said, so much! – and of course Catharina too, and she looked forward to hearing all about her sister’s wedding, it must have been an ‘emotional experience’ for her to go back to the place where she’d grown up ‘and everything’, and she hoped it had all gone well for ‘the happy couple’ – but here in Hamburg things were not so good, Josephina probably hadn’t heard about any of that up there by Kiel?

  No, she hadn’t – any of what? – but, she told Theodora, she’d heard from her big sister Greta about her little nephew Finn being told not to speak German at school and how her brother-in-law Danne had an argument with the Rektor about that, and she overheard from Danne while he was talking to Herr Mayer that his uncle Farbror Aksel’s business in Hamburg was failing and that he and Frau Andersen might go to America – Ah, yes, Theodora and Wolf knew Herr Andersen, Theodora had heard about that. Josephina had heard from her friend Anna that she was going to have another baby – probably Theodora hadn’t heard about
that – and that her man Eric was ‘a steam engine’. She’d heard from Herr Mayer while he was talking to Papa that he thought it unwise to entitle the Bauernhaus and the land to Elke who was now called Frau Franzose, and she’d heard Papa’s reply, which made Herr Mayer walk away and good riddance – Theodora was impressed by Elke’s ‘entitlement’. She’d heard from Tante Elizabeth that she envied her having a new life in Hamburg that must be different ‘from this’? Theodora must think it probably was? Quite different?

  The food and drink provided by Tante Elizabeth and Herr Mayer had been enjoyed and praised. The pastor who’d spoken so nicely at the wedding, and who’d specially mentioned the beautiful chaplets of spring flowers on Mathilde’s and Catharina’s hair, seemed to get a little tipsy at the lunch and left earlier than expected with his wife and a row of children following behind – everyone saw him sit down suddenly in the chickweed by the gate, and how Frau Kolnick kept going with her from-tall-to-small ducklings following behind her – and yes, of course it was different from life at the Bloch House, it was very different, and probably not very interesting for Theodora?

  But perhaps Theodora would be interested in what her sister’s new husband Johannes Franzose had said to her, having heard about the talk at supper the night before? And what talk was that, Theodora wanted to know, seeming even more interested. It was about the important work that she and Herr Bloch did to improve the circumstances of people such as the women in the sewing room where she and Theodora had first seen each other, and how Theodora and Herr Bloch and many of their visitors were socialists, social democrats, in fact.

  ‘You told them that?’ Theodora put her coffee cup down with a startling clash.

  Why, yes, naturally her papa had asked her about where she was living now in Hamburg, and what her employers did, and so she’d told him and also the others at supper, what Theodora had explained to her so kindly when they were telling their stories at lunch with Signor and Signora Martignetti, and when she’d felt so ignorant and had talked about such stupid things, like seeing a song in her hair. But they weren’t stupid things, Theodora told her in a warm tone, putting her hand on top of Josephina’s – she’d said it already and she’d say it again now, Josephina was a very special young woman – but please, what was it that her sister’s new husband had said, at the wedding lunch, that might be interesting? That she might find interesting?

  Catharina was becoming restless and had already wondered when she would see Alex, and there was certainly plenty of work to do, despite the coffee with Theodora, so Josephina hurried her answer while making Catharina come out from under the table where she was mumbling ‘I want Alex’ just loud enough to be heard.

  Johannes had said, Ah, so now his sister-in-law was consorting with social democrats, so he’d been informed by Herr Mayer, and had these social democrats in Hamburg told her about the revolutions of 1848, or the uprising of the Paris Commune just a few years ago?

  And no, they hadn’t, Herr Bloch and Theodora hadn’t told her about those things, but what were those things, what was he talking about?

  And then she was startled by Theodora’s laughter, and by her warm palms pressing against her cheeks – her story was amusing, but why? And why did everything she thought she knew immediately make a fresh space for something she didn’t?

  Meanwhile, the cook would be there in an hour or two, said Theodora in her quick, practical tone, and without answering Josephina’s question about ‘those things’, could Josephina please help her get ready for some guests? Catharina could play with some toys in the kitchen? Because Hamburg had become agitated these past weeks, Josephina would soon be hearing about it.

  And indeed, the table in the back room overlooking the garden at the Bloch House was now even busier than before, and sometimes Josephina had to bring in more lamps at night so the visitors could look at the pages they were discussing. They were usually smoking, which made Herr Bloch cough, but they had to keep the curtains drawn over the windows, though the weather was now quite warm.

  And Catharina’s friend Alex had gone away with her mother and father to Bremen. But why? Catharina was inconsolable and sat sobbing over the two dolls they’d often played with – she called one Alex, and talked to her and had to sleep with her at night. And also, when could she see Mathilde again? And why not? But Josephina also wanted to know why Signor and Signora Martignetti and Alessandra had to go so suddenly to Bremen, what was the matter? Because the authorities had found out about him. But what had they found out? His activities. But which ‘activities’? And meanwhile Catharina began to tip over her drink of milk and say Alex did it, and then sometimes the cook smacked her.

  And how could she explain about Alex to Catharina if she herself didn’t know the answer? And how could she go on living between two worlds, one she knew and understood but could no longer be in, and another that she was in but was not permitted to know?

  It was very late, but at last everyone had gone. Josephina had taken several pots of coffee into the room where some of the men had been shouting, and also some brandy and glasses, though she had to keep running up to the bedroom from time to time because lately Catharina had begun to come out and sit on the stairs in her nightie. Once, from the kitchen, she heard Theodora’s voice above the others, angry and clear, biting the words, and then Theodora had come in to the kitchen cursing under her breath and stood stiffly with her back turned over by the pantry. Then she’d gone back to the meeting again, but she said nothing to Josephina, who was becoming impatient and even ‘nettled’, as Elke would say, with Fräulein Theodora Bloch, as she might as well call her, and with her sometimes warmth and affection, because what was the use of her pats and smiles if she wouldn’t tell her why there was ‘agitation’ in Hamburg, and why it obviously upset her so much – why, indeed, was Fräulein Bloch treating her no differently from the way she, Josephina, was now forced to treat Catharina, by not explaining to her why her friend Alex had gone away to a place called Bremen without even saying goodbye, or how they could go there and visit her? And why couldn’t they, why not?

  Herr Bloch came slowly into the kitchen and filled a jug with warm water from the stove kettle – It was all right, thank you, Josephina, he could manage, thank you – and went upstairs to his bedroom. Josephina went into the room where the meeting had been going on for some hours; she opened the curtains and then the windows to air the tobacco smoke. The evening was rather cool, and perhaps she could go outside for a while and sit at the far end of the garden where a breeze sometimes came off the lake – the smell of the fresh water was quite mellow, unlike the salty tang of Kieler Förde, perhaps some of that sharp northern air would do those anxious people sitting in their fug of tobacco smoke some good! Then she began to assemble the used cups and glasses and the ashtrays and the plates on which she’d served some hard cheese and pickles, she would get them all washed before she closed up the windows again, and with luck Catharina would have remained asleep.

  And then, ‘Ah, Josephina!’ she heard, a sigh rather than speech. Theodora was sitting back from the table in the shadows. ‘What would we do without you?’

  It was a laugh but also a growl or snarl that then startled Theodora as Josephina sat down and poured herself a glass of brandy from the open bottle on the table. ‘What indeed?’ she said, and drank. And now perhaps Fräulein Bloch could explain to her what was going on in this room night after night and why it was not possible to tell her so that she could understand, and also so Catharina could understand why her friend Alex had been taken away from her, surely Fräulein Bloch could see how affected the child was by that?

  ‘I told you and only you that I was raped by the Junker,’ said Josephina, ‘though of course you already thought you knew. Do you think that was easy for me? So how hard can it be for you to tell me why “things are not good here in Hamburg”, why in fact the place is “agitated”, as you say? How bad is “agitated”? Does “agitated” mean sitting around drinking coffee and brandy and arguin
g?’

  How good it felt to sit down and sip brandy, and then feel her anger drift out the window like stale smoke. She saw that Theodora heard her own words repeated – she made a little pfff sound of appreciation.

  ‘You’re angry, Josephina,’ she said. ‘And so am I, but not with you. May I too have a brandy, please?’ She came over to the table and sat down. Would she now do what she had begun to do more frequently, give her hand a pat? Or even her cheek? But she didn’t.

  ‘Hamburg is now part of the German Empire. The social democrats are banned. Our members are being persecuted. Soon, the Bürger Zeitung will have to cease publication. Wolf and I will have to leave Hamburg. We will be banished, certainly. We might be killed. This is now clear finally, tonight, and so I can tell you.’ Now the hand on Josephina’s cheek, trembling a little. ‘I am truly, truly sorry that I didn’t explain how things are until now. I didn’t want to frighten you.’ She sipped her brandy but put the glass aside with a shudder. ‘Wolf thinks we should leave Germany. We don’t agree about that. In the meantime, once again, west and a little bit north. But you, Josephina?’

  Yes, she would go outside and down to where the cool, freshwater breeze came up off the lake, and then she would come back to wash the cups and things before going up to bed.