Chapter 28
ODDS AND ENDS
The most amusing columns in German daily papers are those devoted to family advertisement. There you find the prolix intimate announcements of domestic events compared with which the first column of the _Times_ is so bare, so _nichtssagend_.
"The birth of a second son is announced with joy by Dr Johann Weber and Wife Martha, born Hansen."--Dresden, 22 May 1907.
"Emil Harzdorf and wife Magdalene, born Klaus, have the honour to announce the birth of a strong girl."--Hamburg, 26 May 1907.
Boy babies are nearly always _stramm_, the girl babies are _kraeftig_, and the parents are _hocherfreut_, as they should be. Engagements and marriages are advertised more simply, and your eye is not caught by them as it is by the big black bordered paragraphs that inform the world that someone has just left it.
"To-day, in consequence of a stroke of apoplexy, my deeply loved husband, our dear father, grandfather, father-in-law, brother, and uncle fell asleep. In the name of the survivors, Olga Wagner, born Richter.--Leipzig, 23 May 1907."
This is a curt announcement compared with many. When the deceased has occupied any kind of official post, or has been an employer of labour, a long register of his many virtues accompanies the advertisement of his death. "He who has just passed away was an exemplary chief, a fatherly friend and adviser, who by his benevolence erected an everlasting monument to himself in the hearts of his colleagues and subordinates." He who had just passed away had been the head of a small soap factory, and this advertisement was put in by the factory hands just beneath the one signed by all the family. Another advertisement on the same page expresses thanks for sympathy, "on the death of my dear wife, our good mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, aunt, sister-in-law, and cousin, Frau Angelika Pankow, born Salbach."
A German friend who had to undergo an operation last year wrote just before to tell me she expected to come through safely. "If not," she said, "you'll receive a card like this"--
"Yesterday passed away Adelaide Deminski, born Weigert, Her heart-broken Husband Grandmother Father Mother Sons Daughters Sons-in-law Daughters-in-law Brothers Sisters Brothers-in-law Sisters-in-law Uncles Aunts Cousins";
for Germans themselves laugh at these advertisements, and assure the inquiring foreigner that their vogue has had its day. But if the inquiring foreigner looks at the right papers he will find as many as ever. You will also find matrimonial advertisements in papers that are considered respectable.
But when you turn to the news columns for details of some event that is startling the world, whether it is a crime, an earthquake, a battle, or a royal wedding, you find a few lines that vex you with their insufficiency. Our English papers have pages about a German coronation, German manoeuvres, German high jinks at Koepenick. But when I wanted to see what happened in London on our day of Diamond Jubilee I found five lines about Queen Victoria having driven to St. Paul's accompanied by her family and some royal guests. I was in a country inn at the time, and the paper taken there was one taken everywhere in the duchy. It is a great mistake to think that German newspaper hostility to England dates from the Transvaal War. The same journal that spared five lines to the Jubilee gave a column to a question asked by one of our parliamentary cranks about the ill-treatment of natives by Britons in India. The question was met by a complete and convincing denial, but we had to turn to our English papers to find that recorded. The ---- _Tageblatt_ printed the question with comments, and suppressed the denial. As long ago as 1883, when there was cholera in Egypt, a little Thuringian paper we saw weekly had frenzied articles about the evil English who were doing all they could to bring the scourge to Germany. I think we had refused some form of quarantine that modern medical science considers worse than useless. The tone of the press all through the Transvaal War did attract some attention in this country, and since then from time to time we are presented with quotations from abusive articles about our greed, our perfidy, and our presumption. I am not writing as a journalist, for I know nothing whatever of journalism; but as a member of the general public I believe that we are inclined to overrate the importance of these amenities, because we overrate the part played by the newspaper in the average German household. One can only speak from personal experience, but I should say that it hardly plays a part at all. Whatever Tageblatt is in favour with the _Hausherr_ comes in every morning, and is stowed away tidily in a corner till he has time to look at it while he drinks his coffee and smokes his cigar. If the ladies of the household are inclined that way they look at it too. But there really is not much to look at as a rule. These paragraphs about the wicked British that seem so pugnacious when they are printed on solid English paper in plain English words, are often in a corner with other political paragraphs about other wicked nations. At times of crisis, when the leading papers are attacking us at great length, the Germans themselves will talk of _Zeitungsgeschrei_ and shrug their shoulders. It is absurd to deny the existence of Anglophobia in Germany, because you can hardly travel there without coming across isolated instances of it. But these isolated instances will stand out against a crowded background of people from whom you have received the utmost kindness and friendship; and of other people with whom your relations have been fleeting, but who have been invariably civil. Unfortunately the German Anglophobe is a creature of the meanest breed, and he impresses himself on the memory like a pain; so that one of him looms larger than fifty others, just as the moment will when you had your last tooth out, and not the summer day that went before and after. The truth is, that we are on the nerves of certain Germans. You may live for ever in an English family and never hear a German mentioned. You would assuredly not hear the nation everlastingly discussed and scolded. As far as we are concerned, they are welcome to their own manners, their own ways, and their own opinions. If they would only take their stand on these and leave ours alone we could meet on equal terms. But that is the one thing this particular breed of German cannot do. He must be always arguing with you about the superiority of his nation to yours, and you soon think him the most tiresome and offensive creature you ever met. In private life you can usually avoid him and seek out those charming German people who, even if their Tageblatt teaches them that they should hate England, will never extend their hatred to the English stranger within their gates, and who will admit you readily and kindly to their pleasant unaffected lives. Germany is full of such people, whatever the German newspapers are saying.
Presumably every country has the press that suits it, and in one respect German journalism is more dignified and estimable than our own. It does not publish columns of silly society gossip, or of fashions that only a duchess can follow and only a kitchen-maid can read. Nor would the poorest, smallest provincial Tageblatt descend to the depths of musical criticism in which one of our popular dailies complacently flounders all through the London season.
"I cannot tell you much about last night's Wagner opera, because to my great annoyance the auditorium was dark nearly all the time. Once when we were allowed to see each other for a moment I noticed that the Duchess of Whitechapel was in her box, looking so lovely in cabbage green. Mrs. 'Dicky' Fitzwegschwein was in the stalls with a ruby necklace and a marvellous coat of rose velours spangled in diamonds, and on the grand tier I saw Lady 'Bobby' Holloway, who is of course the daughter-in-law of Lord Islington, in black net over silver, quite the dernier cri this season, and looking radiant over her sister Lady Yolande's engagement to the Duke of Bilgewater. Richter conducted with his usual brilliance, and the new Wotan sang with great elan, although he was obviously suffering from a cold in his head."
It is impossible to imagine Berlin waking some winter morning to find such a "criticism" as this on its breakfast table. In Germany, people who understand music write about music, and people who understand about fashions write about fashions, and the two subjects, both of them interesting and important, are kept apart. Society journalists who write about Lady Bobbies and Mrs. Fitzwegschweins do not exist yet in Germany, and so far the empire seems to worry along quite comfortably without them. I once asked a well-known English journalist who is of German birth, why one of our newspaper kings did not set up a huge, gossipy, frivolous paper in Berlin, and it was explained to me that it would be impossible, because the editor and his staff would probably find themselves in prison in a week. What we understand by Freedom of the Press does not exist there.
On the other hand, books and pamphlets are circulated in Germany that would be suppressed here; and the stage is freer than our own. _Monna Vanna_ had a great success in Berlin, where Mme. Maeterlinck played the part to crowded audiences. _Salome_ is now holding the stage both as a play and with Richard Strauss' music as an opera; Gorky's _Nachtasyl_ is played year after year in Berlin. Both French and German plays are acted all over Germany that could not be produced in England, both because the censor would refuse to pass them and because public opinion would not tolerate them, unless, to be sure, they were played in their own tongues. It is most difficult to explain our attitude to Germans who have been in London, because they know what vulgar and vicious farces and musical comedies pass muster with us, and indeed are extremely popular. It is only when a play touches the deeps of life and shows signs of thought and of poetry that we take fright, and by the lips of our chosen official cry, "This will never do." Tolstoy, Ibsen, Gorky, Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Hauptmann, and Otto Ernst are the modern names I find on one week's programme cut from a Berlin paper late in spring when the theatrical season was nearly over. Besides plays by these authors, one of the State theatres announced tragedies by Goethe, Schiller, and a comedy by Moliere. _The Merchant of Venice_ was being played at one theatre and _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ at another; there were farces and light operas for some people, and Wagner, Gluck, and Beethoven at the Royal Opera House for others. The theatre in Germany is a part of national life and of national education, and it is largely supported by the State; so that even in small towns you get good music and acting. The Meiningen players are celebrated all over the world, and everyone who has read Goethe's Life will remember how actively and constantly he was interested in the Weimar stage. At a _Stadt-Theater_ in a small town two or three operas are given every week, and two or three plays. Most people subscribe for seats once or twice a week all through the winter, and they go between coffee and supper in their ordinary clothes. Even in Berlin women do not wear full dress at any theatre. In the little towns you may any evening meet or join the leisurely stream of playgoers, and if you enter the theatre with them you will find that the women leave their hats with an attendant. You are in no danger in Germany of having the whole stage hidden from you by flowers and feathers.
Shakespeare is as much played as Goethe and Schiller, and it is most interesting and yet most disappointing to hear the poetry you know line upon line spoken in a foreign tongue. Germans say that their translation is more beautiful and satisfying than the original English; but I actually knew a German who kept Bayard Taylor's _Faust_ by his bedside because he preferred it to Goethe's. I think there is something the matter with people who prefer translated to original poetry, but I will leave a critic of standing to explain what ails them. I have never met a German who would admit that Shakespeare was an Englishman. They say that his birth at Stratford-on-Avon was a little accident, and that he belongs to the world. They say this out of politeness, because what they really believe is that he belongs to Germany, and that as a matter of fact Byron is the only great poet England has ever had. I am not joking. I am not even exaggerating. This is the real opinion of the German man in the street, and it is taught in lessons in literature. An English girl went to one of the best-known teachers in Berlin for lessons in German, and found, as she found elsewhere, that the talk incessantly turned on the crimes of England and the inferiority of England.
"You have had two great names," said the teacher,--"two and no more. That is, if one can in any sense of the word call Shakespeare an English name ... Shakespeare and Byron, ... then you have finished. You have never had anyone else, and Shakespeare has always belonged more to us than to you."
The English girl gasped, for she knew something of her own literature.
"But have you never heard about Chaucer," she asked, "or of the Elizabethans, or of Milton, Keats, Shelley, Wordsworth...?"
"_Reden Sie nicht, reden Sie nicht!_" cried the teacher,--"I never allow my pupils to argue with me. Shakespeare and Byron ... no, Byron only, ... then England has done."
You still find Byron in every German household where English is read at all, and no one seems to have found out what fustian most of his poetry really was. Ruskin and Oscar Wilde are the two popular modern authors, and the novel-reading public chooses, so several booksellers assured me, Marion Crawford and Mrs. Croker. I could not hear a word anywhere of Stevenson or Rudyard Kipling, but I did come across one person who had enjoyed _Richard Feverel_.
"Your English novels are rather better than they used to be, are they not?" said a lady to me in good faith, and I found it a difficult question to answer, because I had always believed that we had a long roll of great novelists; but then, I had also thought that England had a few poets.
The most popular German novels are mostly translated into English, and all German novels of importance are reviewed in our papers. So English people who read German know what a strong reaction there is against the moonshine of fifty years ago. The novels most in vogue exhibit the same coarse, but often thoughtful and impressive, realism that prevails on the stage and in the conversation and conduct of some sets of people in the big cities. The _Tagebuch einer Verlorenen_ has sold 75,000 copies, and it is the story of a German _Kamelliendame_ compared with whom Dumas' lady is moonshine. It is a haunting picture of a woman sinning against the moral and social law, and no one with the least sense or judgment could put it on the low level of certain English novels that sell because they are offensive, and for no other reason in the world. _Aus guter Familie_, by Gabrielle Reuter, is another remarkable novel, and I believe it has never been translated into English. It presents the poignant tragedy of a woman's life suffocated by the social conditions obtaining in a small German town where a woman has no hope but marriage, and if she is poor no chance of marriage. It is one of the most sincere books I ever read. _Das Taegliche Brot_, Klara Viebig's story of servant-life in Berlin, is another typical novel of the present day, and that has been translated for those amongst us who do not read German. I choose these three novels for mention because they are written by women, and because they are brilliant examples of the modern tone amongst women. If you want the traditional German qualities of sentiment, poetry, formlessness, and dreamy childlike charm, you must read novels written by men.
I have said very little about music in Germany, because we all know and admit that it reaches heights there no other nation can approach. An Englishman writing about Germany lately says that you often hear very bad music there, but I think his experience must have been exceptional and unfortunate. I am sure that Germans do not tolerate the vapid dreary drawing-room songs we listen to complacently in this country; for in England people often have beautiful voices without any musical understanding, or technical facility without charm. I suppose such cases must occur amongst Germans too, and in the end one speaks of a foreign nation partly from personal experience, which must be narrow, and partly from hearsay. I have met Germans who were not musical, but I have never met any who were pleased with downright bad music. On the whole, it is the art they understand best, the one in which their instinctive taste is sure and good. You would not find that the Byron amongst composers, whoever he may be, was the one they set up for worship. Nor do you find the street of a German city or suburb infested with barrel-organs. There is some kind of low dancing saloon or _cafe chantant_ called a Tingl-Tangl where I imagine they have organs and gramaphones and suchlike horrors, but then unless you chance to pass their open windows you need not endure their strains. In England, even if we are fond of music, and therefore sensitive to jarring sounds and maudlin melodies, yet in the street we cannot escape the barrel-organ nor in the house the drawing-room songs. As if these were not enough, we now invite each other to listen to the pianotist and the pianola.
"I will explain my country to you," said the artist one day when I had expressed myself puzzled by the curious gaps in German taste, and even in German knowledge; by their enthusiasm for the second rate in poetry and literature, and by their amazing uncertain mixture of information and blank complacent ignorance. For when an Englishman says "Goethe! Schiller!--Was is das?" you are not surprised. It is just what you expect of an Englishman, and for all that he may know how to build bridges and keep his temper in games and argument. But when a German teacher of literature tells you Byron is the only English poet, and when the whole nation neglects some of our big men but runs wild over certain little ones, you listen eagerly for any explanation forthcoming. "We have _Wissen_," said the artist, "we have _Kunst_; but we have no _Kultur_."
I did not recover from the shock he gave me till the evening, when I saw the professor of philosophy and aesthetics.
"The artist says that you have no _Kultur_," I told him; for I wanted to see how he received a shock.
"The artist speaks the truth," said the professor calmly. I have never met anyone more civilised and scholarly then he was himself; and I set a high value on his opinion.
"What is _Kultur_?" I asked.
"One result of it is a fine discrimination," he replied, "a fine discrimination in art, in conduct, and in manner."
"Are you not the most intellectual people in the world?" I said reproachfully.
He seemed to think that had nothing to do with it.
"Are you still worrying your head about _Kultur_?" said the artist next time I saw him. "Then I will explain a little more to you. I, as you know, am extremely _anti-Semite_."
"I am sure that is not a proof of _Kultur_," I said hurriedly.
"It is not a proof of anything. It is a result. Nevertheless I perceive that if it were not for the Jews there would be neither art nor literature in Germany. They create, they appreciate, they support, and although we affect to despise them we invariably follow them like sheep. What they admire we admire; what they discover we see to be good. But ... I told you I was _anti-Semite_, ... though they have most of the brains in the country, they have little _Kultur_. One of us who is as stupid as an ox, ... most of us are as stupid as oxen, ... may have more, ... but because he is stupid he cannot impose his opinion on the multitude."
"Do you mean that the Jews set the fashion in art and literature, and that they sometimes set a bad one?" I asked
"That is exactly what I mean."
It was a curious theory, and I will not be responsible for its truth. But there is no doubt that in every German town artistic and literary society has its centre amongst the educated Jews. They are most generous hosts, and it is their pleasure to gather round them an aristocracy of genius. The aristocracy that is perfectly happy without genius would as a rule not enter a Jew's house; though the poorer members of the aristocracy often marry a Jew's daughter. Where there is inter-marriage some social intercourse is presumably inevitable. But the social crusade against Jews is carried on in Germany to an extent we do not dream of here. The Christian clubs and hostels exclude them, Christian families avoid them, and Christian insults are offered to them from the day of their birth. "What do you use those long lances for?" said the wife of a Jewish professor to a young man in a cavalry regiment. "_Damit hetzen wir die Juden_," said he, with the snarl of his kind; and he knew very well that the lady's husband was a Jew. I have been told a story of a Jewish girl being asked to a Court ball by the Emperor Frederick, and finding that none of the men present would consent to dance with her. I have heard of girls who wished to ask a Jewish schoolmate to a dance, and discovered that their Christian friends flatly refused to meet anyone of her race. How any Christians contrive to avoid it I do not understand, for wherever you go in Germany some of the great scholars, doctors, men of science, art, and literature, are men of Jewish blood. The press is almost entirely in their hands, and when there is a scurrilous artist or a coarse picture your friends explain it by saying that the tone of that special paper is _juedisch_. The modern campaign against Jews began nearly thirty years ago, when a Court chaplain called Stoecker startled the world by the violence of his invective. But the fire he stirred to flame must have been smouldering. He and his followers gave the most ingenuous reasons for curtailing Jewish rights and privileges in Germany, one of which was the provoking fact that Jewish boys did more brilliantly at school than Christians. The subject bristles with difficulties, and no one who knows the German Jew intimately will wish to pose him as a persecuted saint. The Christian certainly makes it unpleasant for him socially, but in one way or the other he holds his own. I have seen him vexed and offended by some brutal slight, but his keen sense of humour helps him over most stiles. So no doubt does his sense of power. "They will not admit me to their clubs or ask my daughters to their dances," said a Jewish friend, "but they come to me for money for their charities." And I knew that half the starving poor in the town came to his wife for charity, and that she never sent one empty away.
When a very clever, sensitive, numerically small race has lived for hundreds of years cheek by jowl with a dense brutal race that has never ceased to insult and humiliate it, you cannot be surprised if those clever but highly sensitive ones become imbued in course of time with a painful undesirable conviction that the brutes are their superiors. So you have the spectacle in Germany of Jews seeking Christian society instead of avoiding it; and you hear them boast quite artlessly of their _christlicher Umgang_. They would really serve their people and even themselves more if they refused all _christlicher Umgang_ until the Christians had learned to behave themselves. An Englishwoman living in Berlin told me that once as she came out of a concert hall an officer standing in the crowd stared at her and said, so that everyone could hear: "At last! a single face that is not a _juedischer Fratz_." The concert, you will understand, must have been a good one, and therefore largely attended by a Jewish audience. Possibly the officer who so much disliked his surroundings had married a Jewish heiress and was waiting for his wife. Such things happen. During the worst times of Stoecker's campaign a woman with Jewish features could hardly go out unescorted; and even now, though it is not openly expressed, you can hardly fail to catch some note of sympathy with the Russian persecution of the Jews. The deep helpless genuine horror felt in England at the pogroms is felt in a fainter way in Northern Germany.
Meanwhile the Jewish woman of the upper classes takes her revenge by knowing how to dress. In German cities, when you see a woman who is "exquisite," slim that is and graceful, dainty from head to foot and finely clad, then you may vow by all the gods that she has Jewish blood in her.
APPENDIX
Page 4, l. 26. _Wunderkind_: a prodigy.
Page 8, l. 5. _Wickelkinder_: infants in swaddling clothes.
Page 9, l. 26. _Mamsell_: supervising housekeeper.
Page 11, l. 13. _Die Kunst im Leben des Kindes_: art in the life of the child.
Page 12, l. 14. _Pestalozzi Froebel Haus_: named for the two great educators, Pestalozzi and Froebel.
Page 12, l. 31. _pf._: _pfennig_, a quarter of a cent.
Page 13, l. 22. _Das Recht des Kindes_: the right of the child.
Page 16, l. 2. _Gymnasium_: school where Latin and Greek are taught (humanistic education).
Page 16, l. 2. _Real-Gymnasium_: school where Latin, modern languages, mathematics, science, and history are taught. No Greek.
Page 16, l. 3. _Ober-Real Schule_: school where mathematics, science, history, French, and English are taught.
Page 16, l. 3. _Real-Schule_: a school which prepares for practical life, not for the university; modern languages are included in the curriculum.
Page 17, l. 7. _Abiturienten_: graduates from a Gymnasium or Ober-Real Schule.
Page 17, l. 14. _mark_: a quarter of a dollar.
Page 17, l. 19. _Flachsmann als Erzieher_: Flachsmann as a pedagogue.
Page 19, l. 8. _Evangelisch_: Protestant.
Page 20, l. 19. _Schauspielhaus_: theatre.
Page 20, l. 21. _Was ist das?_ what is that?
Page 20, l. 26. _Hoehere Toechterschule_: high school for girls.
Page 21, l. 33. _Ober Lehrerin_: high grade teacher.
Page 22, l. 14. _Lyceen_: school where Latin and Greek is taught.
Page 22, l. 14. _Ober-Lyceen_: school preparing for the university.
Page 22, l. 31. _Allgemeine deutsche Frauenverein_: Universal League of German Women.
Page 23, l. 10. _Allgemeine deutsche Lehrerinnen-Verein_: Universal League of German Teachers.
Page 23, l. 13. _Real-Kurse fuer Maedchen und Frauen_: courses for girls and women outside of those found in the school system, and preparing for the university.
Page 24, l. 11. _Gymnasialkurse_: the above plan organised into preparatory schools for women for the university.
Page 26, l. 12. _Stift_: private or state school with board and residence. Also an endowed home for gentlewomen, with certain privileges--either with or without a school for girls.
Page 30, l. 7. _Volkschule_: public school.
Page 30, l. 9. _Nicht voellig normal_: rather weak intellectually, abnormal.
Page 32, l. 24. _Schulrat_: superintendent of schools.
Page 33, l. 12. _Waldschule_: forest school in open air.
Page 34, l. 16. _Griesbrei_: porridge made of farina.
Page 34, l. 21. _Nudelsuppe_: soup of noodles. Vermicelli soup.
Page 36, l. 8. _Ich liebe einen Backfisch_: I love a girl in her teens.
Page 36, l. 20. _Backfisch-Moden_: fashions for misses.
Page 38, l. 33. _Backfischen's Leiden und Freuden_: Sorrows and Joys of a Backfisch.
Page 41, l. 12. _Jawohl, liebe Tante_: yes, certainly, dear aunt.
Page 43, l. 34. _Sie geniren sich gewiss_: you are surely too shy.
Page 44, l. 34. _Braut_: betrothed.
Page 45, l. 9. _Ein junges Maedchen muss immer heiter sein_: young girl must always be cheerful.
Page 48, l. 13. _Privatdocenten_: private lecturer.
Page 51, l. 9. _Volkslieder_: folk songs.
Page 51, l. 9. _Trinklieder_: drinking songs.
Page 51, l. 34. _Burschenschaft_: students' corporation.
Page 52, l. 8. _Alte Herren Abende_: old gentlemen's (former students) evenings.
Page 53, l. 14. "_Auf die Mensur_": Ready, begin!
Page 54, l. 9. _raisonniren_: to reason, to argue, to dispute, to scold about.
Page 54, l. 9. _geniren_: to embarrass, to trouble.
Page 54, l. 13. _Der Bier Comment_: beer drinking custom; the commanding phrase for a drink called Salamander.
Page 54, l. 20. _Bierdurst_: beer thirst.
Page 54, l. 23. _Kneiptafel_: a kind of club table, where men generally spend evenings drinking beer and joining in songs.
Page 55, l. 27. "_Silentium fuer einen Biergalopp, ich bitte den noetigen Staff anzuschaffen_": Silence for a beer gallop; please provide the necessary stuff.
Page 56, l. 19. _Kommers_: students' festival evening, drinking bout.
Page 56, l. 22. _In vollem Wichs_: in full dress.
Page 56, l. 27. "_Sauft alle mit einander_": Drink all together.
Page 65, l. 2. _Stammtisch_: a club table, where every member has a reserved seat.
Page 67, l. 15. "_Man soll_," etc.: "One ought to so bring up women," said Siegfried, the champion, "that they omit all unnecessary talk. Forbid it your wife. I will do the same with mine. Really I am ashamed of such an arrogant custom."
Page 67, l. 22. "_Das hat mich_," etc.: "I repented it immediately," said the noble woman. "On this account he beat my body black and blue; because I talked too much he was disturbed in his spirit: this did revenge the champion wise and good."
Page 69, l. 22 _Ritterschaft_: knighthood.
Page 71, l. 31. _Lette Verein_: Lette Association.
Page 72, l. 21. _Leipziger Allerlei_: a kind of mixed pickles.
Page 73, l. 25. _eine Stuetze_: a helper for the housewife.
Page 78, l. 1. _Memoiren einer Idealistin_: Memoirs of an Idealist.
Page 80, l. 24. _Schadchan_: Jewish business match-maker or marriage broker.
Page 82, l. 8. _Aus guter Familie_: of good family.
Page 83, l. 15. _In freier Ehe_: in free love.
Page 85, l. 7. _Alte Schloss_: old castle.
Page 85, l. 8. _nicht wahr?_ is that not so?
Page 85, l. 26. _Ausflug_ or _Landpartie_: excursion trip in the country.
Page 86, l. 13. "_Die Verlobung_," etc.: The engagement of their daughter Pauline to Mr. Henry Schmidt, barrister Dr. jur., in Berlin, is announced respectfully by Privy Counsellor of Government Dr. Eugene Brand, Royal Director of Gymnase, and Mrs. Helene, born Engel. Stuttgart, in June, 1906. 7 Tiergarten.
Page 86, l. 23. "_Meine Verlobung_," etc.: I have the honor respectfully to announce my engagement with Miss Pauline Brand, daughter of the Royal Director of Gymnase, Privy Counsellor of Government Dr. Eugen Brand and his honorable wife Helene, born Engel. Dr. jur. Heinrich Schmidt, barrister Referendar. Berlin, in June, 1906. Kurfuerstendam 2000.
Page 88, l. 2. _Brautpaar_: bride and bridegroom on the wedding day, betrothed couple.
Page 88, l. 12. _Wilkommen, du glueckseliges Kind_: Welcome, you happy child.
Page 88, l. 15. _ruehrend_: touching.
Page 88, l. 15. _innig_: hearty, fervent.
Page 89, l. 16. _Aussteurer_: trousseau, also household endowment of money.
Page 91, l. 2. "Wir winden dir":
THE FREE SHOOTER
The bridal wreath for thee we bind, With silken thread of azure; In wedded days, oh, mayst thou find Full store of hope and pleasure.
I've planted thyme and myrtle sweet, They grew in my garden; But when shall I my true love meet, How long will he delay yet?
Full seven years the maiden span, The snow-white web augmenting; The veil is clear like a web, And green the wreath in her hair.
When lo! her true love came at last, When seven years had passed, Because her lover married her She has deserved her wreath.
Page 94, l. 7. _Freie Trauungen_: free marriages.
Page 94, l. 20. _Sozialdemokratischer Verband_: society of democratic socialists.
Page 98, l. 1. _Tafel-Lieder_: table songs.
Page 98, l. 22. _Hoch_: Hurrah.
Page 99, l. 8. _"Wie ist doch,"_ etc.:
How highly is the Uncle blest; To-day the bridal wreath adorns the aunt.
Page 99, l. 11. "_Liebe Gaeste_," etc.:
Dear guests, will you all Arise with pleasure-- Hail to the bridal pair-- May they prosper.
Page 99, l. 25. _Hochzeits-Tafel_: wedding meal.
Page 101, l. 2. "_Geschiedene Leute scheiden fort und fort_": divorced people sever forever.
Page 101, l. 14. _unwirtlichen_: inhospitable, barren.
Page 102, l. 11. "_Buergerliches Gesetzbuch_": citizen's law book, code.
Page 103, l. 10. _Wohnzimmer_: living room.
Page 104, l. 5. _Hof_: court; yard.
Page 105, l. 9. _Wie Herrlich_: how splendid.
Page 106, l. 26. _Fuellofen_: stove, a self-feeder.
Page 109, l. 13. _Landeskirche_: National church.
Page 110, l. 7. _Nichtraucher_: no smoking allowed.
Page 110, l. 7. _Damen-Coupe_: for ladies only (in railway).
Page 110, l. 12. _Aber ich bitte, meine Dame: es zieht, ja, ja, es zieht_: but please, madame, there is a draught, yes, yes, there is a draught.
Page 112, l. 25. _Magen_: stomach.
Page 113, l. 24. _Mein armer Karl_: My poor Charles.
Page 113, l. 24. _Kueken mit Spargel_: spring chicken with asparagus.
Page 114, l. 13. _Frikassee von Haehnchen mit Krebsen_: fricassee of chicken with crabs.
Page 114, l. 23. _perfekte Koechin_: experienced cook.
Page 116, l. 12. "_Dienen lerne_," etc.:
Early a woman should learn to serve, for that is her calling; Since through service alone she finally comes to governing, Comes to the due command that is hers of right in the household. Early the sister must wait on her brother, and wait on her parents; Life must be always with her a perpetual coming and going, Or be a lifting and carrying, making and doing for others. Happy for her be she accustomed to think no way is too grievous, And if the hours of the night be to her as the hours of the daytime; If she find never a needle too fine, nor a labour too trifling; Wholly forgetful of self, and caring to live but in others!
Page 117, l. 31. "_Par une recontre_," etc.: "By a strange chance," says Monsieur Taine, "women are more feminine and men more masculine here than elsewhere. The two natures go to extremes, the one to boldness, to a spirit of enterprise and opposition, to a character that is warlike, imperious, and rough; the other to gentleness, self-denial, patience, inexhaustible affection. Here woman yields completely, a thing unknown in foreign lands, especially in France, and looks upon obedience, pardon, adoration as an honour and a duty, without desiring or striving for anything beyond subordinating herself and becoming daily more absorbed in him whom she has chosen of her own accord and for all time. It is this instinct, an old Germanic instinct, that those great delineators of instinct all paint in a high light!... The spirit of this race is at once primitive and serious. Among women simplicity lasts longer than it does elsewhere. They are slower in losing respect, and in weighing values and characters; they are less ready to suspect evil and to analyse their husbands.... They have not the cleverness, the advanced ideas, the assured behaviour, the precocity which with us turns a young girl into a sophisticated woman and a queen of society in six months. A secluded life and obedience are easier for them. More yielding and more sedentary, they are at once more reserved, more self-centred, more disposed to gaze upon the noble dream that they call duty."
Page 118, l. 28. "_Voir la peinture_," etc.: "Depiction of this character is to be seen in all English and German literature," he says in a footnote. "The closest of observers, Stendhal, thoroughly impregnated with Italian and French ideas and customs, is amazed at sight of it. He understands nothing of this kind of devotion, 'of this slavery which English husbands have had the cleverness to impose upon their wives under the name of duty.' These are 'customs of the seraglio.'"
Page 121, l. 5. _lese majeste_: high treason.
Page 124, l. 5. _ordentliche Frau_: respectable woman.
Page 127, l. 8. "_Mir ist ein Greuel_": it is a horror for me.
Page 127, l. 23. _Frau Wirklichergeheimerober regierungsrath_: Mrs. privy chief counsellor of government.
Page 130, l. 26. _dumm_: silly, stupid.
Page 133, l. 22. _Tuechtigkeit_: capability.
Page 134, l. 7. "_Wie die Kueche_," etc.: when the kitchen is clean, the whole house is clean. Neat indoors, neat outdoors.
Page 134, l. 10. "_Trautes Heim_," etc.:
There is no place like home. My home is my castle.
Page 141, l. 6. _Unsinn ... Quatsch_: nonsense, rubbish.
Page 141, l. 9. _Das hat keinen Zweck_: that is of no use.
Page 141, l. 27. _Herrschaft_: master and mistress and their family.
Page 143, l. 21. _Gesinde-Dienstbuch_: servant's book of reference.
For Anna Schmidt. From Rheinbeck. Age (geboren, born) June 20, 1885. Stature, slender. Eyes, gray. Nose and mouth ordinary. Hair, dark blond. Especial characteristics.
+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------ NAME, VOCATION,| |DAY OF |DAY OF |REASON OF |CERTIFICATE AND ADDRESS OF |BEARER IS |ENTERING|LEAVING|LEAVING-- |AND REMARKS THE EMPLOYER |ACCEPTED AS|SERVICE |SERVICE|REFERENCE |OF POLICE ---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------ Widow Auguste |Servant |Oct. 20,|Jan. 2,|Wished a |Seen Knoblauch | |1901 |1902 |change |(_Place and | | | |Conduct | date, with | | | |good |official | | | | |stamp and | | | | |signature_) ---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------ Boretzky, Post |Housemaid |Feb. 2, |Oct. 2,|Is dismissed| Restaurant, 2 | |1902 |1904 |because of | Baeren Street | | | |unbecoming | | | | |behaviour, | | | | |but is | | | | |diligent and| | | | |honest | ---------------+-----------+--------+-------+------------+------------
Page 148, l. 3. _Speiseschrank_: pantry.
Page 151, l. 23. _Kammer_: little chamber.
Page 159, l. 11. _eine jute Jabe Jottes_: a good gift of God.
Page 164, l. 5. _Mehlspeise_: farinaceous dish.
Page 164, l. 5. _Spetzerle_: a sort of dumpling.
Page 164, l. 9. _Leibgericht_: favourite dish.
Page 164, l. 9. _Rote Gruetze_: literally "red gruel."
Page 168, l. 7. _Torten_: tarts.
Page 169, l. 15. _Beamtenbeleidigung_: offence against an official.
Page 170, l. 19. _Baumkuchen_: cake baked on a spit.
Page 179, l. 26. _Das Maedchen aus der Fremde_: the Strange Maiden.
Page 179, l. 27. _Der Tod und das Maedchen_: Death and the Maiden.
Page 180, l. 10. _gemuetlich_: comfortable, agreeable, cosy.
Page 180, l. 25. _kraeftige Kost_: nourishing food.
Page 181, l. 7. _Heuchelei_: hypocrisy.
Page 182, l. 22. _tuechtige Hausfrau_: experienced housewife.
Page 183, l. 12. _Gesellschaft_: society, a "party."
Page 183, l. 28. _Gott sei Dank_: God be thanked.
Page 183, l. 33. _Guten Tag_: good day.
Page 187, l. 22. _Steinkohlen_: mineral coal, anthracite.
Page 187, l. 22. _Braunkohlen_: lignite, brown coal.
Page 189, l. 8. _gehacktes Schweinefleisch_: choppy pork.
Page 195, l. 21. _Reform-Kleider_: reform dresses.
Page 195, l. 34. _Elles s'habillent si mal_: they dress so badly.
Page 200, l. 4. _Spruch_: motto.
Page 200, l. 16. _Meringuetorte_: pastry with whipped cream.
Page 201, l. 29. _Bowle_: punch.
Page 201, l. 33. _Kaffee-Klatsch mit Schleppe_ (train): a coffee party in grand style.
Page 203, l. 16. _Gefrorenes_: ice cream.
Page 203, l. 35. _Pumpernickel_: Westphalian rye bread.
Page 207, l. 8. _Katzenjammer_: moral depression--the blues--seediness after drunken debauch.
Page 207, l. 27. _Hier koennen Familien Kaffee kochen_: here families are allowed to cook coffee.
Page 216, l. 17. _ein falsches Volk_: false people.
Page 222, l. 16. _Schenkwirte_: tavern keepers.
Page 223, l. 15. _Schoppen_: a pint.
Page 227, l. 3. _Oberkellner_: head waiter, head steward.
Page 231, l. I. _frisch angesteckt_: fresh on tap.
Page 231, l. 20. _Rindfleisch_: boiled beef.
Page 231, l. 26. _versoffene Jungfern_: drunken maidens.
Page 233, l. 1. _halbe Portion_: half a portion.
Page 233, l. 20. _Stimmung_: mood, humour.
Page 233, l. 27. _Das hat keinen Zweck_: of no use, end, etc.; what difference does that make?
Page 234, l. i. _Verrueckt_: crazy, mad.
Page 235, l. 16. _Schmorkartoffeln_: stewed potatoes baked in butter.
Page 235, l. 28. _Pastetchen_: small pies, patties.
Page 237, l. 13. _Koenigstrasse_: King's Road.
Page 237, l. 14. _Herrschaften_: patrons.
Page 237, l. 23. _Delikatessenhandlung_: delicatessen shop.
Page 240, l. 3. _Spiritus leid' ich nicht_: I will not allow alcohol.
Page 240, l. 29. _Trinkgeld_: tips.
Page 242, l. 10. _das beste Zimmer_: best room, salon.
Page 244, l. 8. _Das schadet nichts, das ist gesund_: never mind, it is healthful.
Page 245, l. 27. _fremd_: strange.
Page 245, l. 33. _Reisebureau_: office of information for travellers.
Page 246, l. 14. _anmelden_: announce, report.
Page 247, l. 13. _Ausgang_: exit.
Page 247, l. 14. _Eingang_: entrance.
Page 249, l. 10. _Dann war es mir zu bunt_: it was too much for me, it goes too far.
Page 252, l. 6. _Verschoenerungsverein_: society for embellishments.
Page 252, l. 13. _Aussicht_: view.
Page 252, l. 13 _prachtvoll_: splendid.
Page 252, l. 13. _Luft herrlich_: lovely air.
Page 252, l. 16. _die Herren_: the gentlemen.
Page 253, l. 15. _wanderfroh_: fond of travelling.
Page 255, l. 13. _Badearzt_: physician of a watering place.
Page 255, l. 31. _eine gute Stunde_: a good hour's walk.
Page 257, l. 3. _Kur_: medical treatment.
Page 257, l. 5. _Badereise_: sojourn at a bathing place for the benefit of the waters.
Page 258, l. 1. _Luftkur_: open air cure.
Page 258, l. 9. _Blutarmut_: anaemia.
Page 258, l. 18. _Corpulententisch_: table of the corpulents.
Page 259, l. 4. _Kegel_: ninepins.
Page 259, l. 17. _Waldluft_: forest air.
Page 259, l. 28. _Speisesaal_: dining room.
Page 260, l. 16. "_Warum willst_," etc.:
Why do you wander elsewhere When happiness is so near?
Page 261, l. 25. _Personenzug_: local train.
Page 262, l. 16. _Schein_: bill, receipt.
Page 268, l. 17. _staedtische Kleider_: city dress.
Page 268, l. 31. _Kirchweih_: annual festival in commemoration of the consecration of church.
Page 269, l. 4. _Brautwagen_: wedding coach.
Page 270, l. 6. _Hochzeit_: wedding.
Page 270, l. 19. _belegtes Butterbrot_: sandwiches.
Page 271, l. 5. _Hochzeitsmahl_: wedding meal.
Page 271, l. 16. _Speisesaal_: dining room.
Page 277, l. 2. _Was ist denn los?_ what is the matter?
Page 278, l. 18. _Sehnsucht_: yearning.
Page 278, l. 21. _Haferbrei_: oat meal.
Page 279, l. 8. _Schmalz_: suet, lard.
Page 279, l. 11. _Pfarrer_: priest, clergyman, parson.
Page 279, l. 18. _Betten_: beds.
Page 279, l. 19. _Heidenmuehle_: mill on the heath.
Page 279, l. 24. _Knecht_: manservant.
Page 291, l. 19. _Volkskueche_: public kitchen.
Page 292, l. 2. _Tischzeit_: hours for meals.
Page 292, l. 6. _Durch Arbeiten_: through work.
Page 292, l. 16. _Der Kaufmaennische Verband fuer Weibliche Angestellte_: Merchant Association for Employed Women.
Page 298, l. 13. _Kurfuerstendam_: elector's dyke.
Page 303, l. 1. _Zelten_: tents.
Page 305, l. 1. _Berliner Zimmer_: a room with one window.
Page 307, l. 5. _nichtssagend_: trifling, of little value.
Page 307, l. 12. _stramm_: robust, vigorous.
Page 307, l. 13. _kraeftig_: strong, healthy, sturdy.
Page 307, l. 13. _hocherfreut_: delighted, highly pleased.
Page 310, l. 21. _Zeitungsgeschrei_: newspaper clamour.
Page 315, l. 8. _Reden sie nicht_: don't talk.
Page 318, l. 2. _Kultur_: culture.
Page 319, l. 22. _Damit hetzen wir die Juden_: therewith we stir up the Jews.
Page 320, l. 33. _christlicher Umgang_: to be in company of Christians.
Page 321, l. 5. _juedischer Fratz_: Jewish phiz.
INDEX
Advertisements, 85, 307
Allotment gardens, 207
Anglophobia, 5, 119, 130, 184, 309-311
Art in the nursery, 11
Auerbach, 272-278
_Backfischen's Leiden und Freuden_, 38-43
Baden, 6, 22 (see also Black Forest)
_Badereise_, 255-260
Bathrooms, 103, 305
Bavaria, 228, 231, 258, 273, 275
Beds, 124, 229
Beggars, 276, 295
Berlin-- Electric cars, 300 Fire-brigade, 275 Flats and houses, 103-108 Froebel Haus, 12 Ladies' clubs, 75 Philanthropy, 293 Registry offices, 142 Restaurants, 233 Sculptures, 297 Shops, 167-170, 174 Students, 57 Sunday excursions, 207 Taxes, 109
_Berliner Zimmer_, 305
_Bestes Zimmer_, 242
Betham-Edwards, Miss, 36
Betrothals, 85-91
_Bier Comment_, 54-56
Birmingham brass workers, 295
Black Forest, 162, 171, 205, 220, 267 ff., 276
_Brautpaar_, 87
Budgets, household, 187-194, 283
_Buergerliches Gesetzbuch_, 102
_Burschenschaft_, 51
Byron, 38, 314
Cellar-shops, 170
Charlottenberg Forest School, 32
Christmas, 176
Church tax, 109
Confirmation, 78-80
Cooking classes, 72
_Corps-Studenten_, 51-53
Cotta, Frl. v., 21
Cottbus Market, 174
_Creches_, 10, 33
_Dienstbuch_, 142-145
Divorce, 100
Doctors, 9, 31, 72, 295
Doecker system, 33
Drawing-rooms, 126
Drunkenness, 206
Duels, students', 51-53
Dyhrenfurth, Gertrud, 282
Economy, 130, 178, 188, 243, 287
Eltzbacher, O., 93, 185
Emigration, 185, 263
Emperor Wilhelm II., 70, 218, 220
Empress Friedrich, 21, 71
Family life, 61, 65, 128
_Flachsmann als Erzieher_, 17
Flats, 103, 123, 130, 304
Food-- Family meals, 154 Fish, 161 Free food, 31, 50 Goose, 162 Meat, 160 _Mehlspeisen_, 164, 231 _Nudeln_, 159 _Ochsenfleisch_, 155 Recipes, 159-165 _Rothe Gruetze_, 164 Supper, 158, 203 Tea, 158 Vegetables, 163
Freiburg Market, 173
Fuel, 106, 187
Furniture, 123-126
"Garden houses," 304
Gardens, 104
"German Home Life," 8, 93
Gipsies, 276
Goethe, 116, 260
_Gymnasium_, 15-19
Gymnastics, 31, 34, 220
Hamburg-- Life, 105, 155, 232 Lodgings, 242 Markets, 174 Servants' dress, 138 Sports, 219
Heidelberg, 51-53
_Hof_, the, 104, 108
Home-workers, 289-291
Hospitality, 43, 196 ff., 210
Hospitals, 295
Housekeeping budgets, 187-194, 283
House-porter, 108, 303
_Idealistin, Memoiren einer_, 78, 125, 131, 139, 180, 212-214
Illegitimate children, 93, 294
Incomes, 48, 177; and see Economy
Inns and Innkeepers, 227-232
Jews, 50, 80, 289, 319-321
_Joseph im Schnee_, 278-281
_Kaffee Klatsch_, 90, 200-202
_Kindergarten_, 12-14
_Kirchweih_, 273
Kitchens, 34, 107, 132-134, 146
_Kneipe_, 54-56, 64, 128
_Kommers_, 56
Ladies' clubs, 75-77
_Landes_ tax, 109
Lange, Frl. Helene, 22-27
Laundry work, 136
_Leipziger Messe_, 175
_Lette-Verein_, 71-75
Linen, 135-137
Lodgings, 237 ff.
Loeper-Housselle, Marie, 23
Luggage on railways, 261
Lyceum Club, 76
Lyceum, Victoria, 21
Marketing, 133-228
Markets, 173-176, 306
Marriage-- Arranged, 68, 80-82 Ceremony, 94 ff. Proposal, 84 Revolt against, 66, 83
Muenchhausen, Frau K., 167
Music, 31, 206, 303, 316
Newspapers, 307-312
Novels, 315
Nurseries, 9-11
Oberhof, 257
Opera, 209
Outdoor life, 222
Peasants' costume, 268 Dances, 272-274 Weddings, 269-272
Pensions, old age, 30, 150
Pestalozzi Froebel Haus, 12
Philanthropy, 293-296
Police regulations, 108, 151, 169, 245-249
_Polterabend_, 92
Professors' salaries, 48
Prussia-- Cost of schools, 17 Free schools, 31 Taxes, 109
Railway travelling, 260-263
Religious teaching, 19
Religious belief, 211-216
Rents, 103
Restaurants, 233-235
Reuter, Gabrielle, 82
Riehl on women, 57 ff.
Ruegen, 257
_Salamander_, 56
Saxony, 108
Scenery, 250 ff.
Schadchan, 80
Schlegel, Caroline, 95
Schmidt, Auguste, 23
Schools-- Cost of, 17 Elementary, 29-31 Forest, 32-35 Kinds of, 16, 20, 22 Lessons, 18 Medical inspection, 31, 34 Music in, 31 Religious teaching in, 19
Servants-- Bedrooms, 151 Costumes, 10, 138, 183 Dances, 148 Gratuities, 145, 149 Meals, 147 Pensions, 150 Wages, 140, 145
Shadwell, Dr., 287
Shakespeare, 314
Shops-- Cellar, 170 In Berlin, 167-170 In Black Forest, 171
Silesian village, 282-285
Skittles, 222
Sofa, 126
Sports, winter, 220
State tax, 109
_Steckkissen_, 7
_Stifte_, 27, 69-71, 76
Stoves, 106-108
Students, 47 ff.
_Stuetze der Hausfrau_, 73, 151
Summer resorts, 250 ff.
Sundays, 205 ff.
"Sweating," 289-291
Swimming-baths, 219
_Tafel-Lieder_, 97-99
Taine, M., 117, 149
Taxes, 108
Teachers' seminaries, 21
Theatres, 208-210, 312-314
Thuringia, 229, 276
Tidiness, 37, 128-130, 135, 306
Titles, 126
Toys, 11
_Trousseaux_, 89, 123, 140
Universities, 47 ff.
_Verein_, 221
Victoria Lyceum, 21
Viebig, Klara, 141, 170, 316
Village fires, 274-276
Visits, 196-200
_Volkskueche_, 291
Walking tours, organised, 253
Weddings, 92 ff., 268-272
_Weibliche Angestellte_, 292
Wertheim, 167-170
_Wickelkinder_, 8
Windows, 105
Winter sports, 220
Women-- Dress, 154, 195 Legal position, 101 Modern, 66, 82-84 Riehl on, 57 ff. Single, 60-62, 75, 81 Treatment of, 60, 63, 65, 117-122 Working, 287 ff.
* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 23: Allegemeine replaced with Allgemeine | | Page 71: '400,000 odd women' replaced with | | '400,000-odd women' | | Page 94: bridgroom replaced with bridegroom | | Page 127: 'It it not easy' replaced with | | 'It is not easy' | | Page 141: knowledgable replaced with knowledgeable | | Page 164: Rothe Gruetze replaced with Rote Gruetze | | Page 184: extremly replaced with extremely | | Page 191: 'fairly comfortably income' replaced with | | 'fairly comfortable income' | | Page 223: Brauehaus replaced with Braeuhaus | | Page 253: preceptions replaced with perceptions | | Page 277: amazment replaced with amazement | | Page 301: 'it is an autocracy or are public' replaced | | with 'it is an autocracy or a republic' | | Page 318: anti-Semit replaced with anti-Semite | | Page 327: Burgerliches replaced with Buergerliches | | Page 330: Braunkolen replaced with Braunkohlen | | Page 330: gahacktes replaced with gehacktes | | Page 331: Delicatessenhandlung replaced with | | Page 334: Dyrenfurth replaced with Dyhrenfurth | | Page 336: 'Stueze der Hausfrau' replaced with | | 'Stuetze der Hausfrau' | | Page 336: Ruegen replaced with Ruegen | | Page 336: Vereine replaced with Verein | | Page 336: Weibliche Angestelle replaced with | | Weibliche Angestellte | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+
End of Project Gutenberg's Home Life in Germany, by Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick