In Those Days: The Story of an Old Man Part 1

In Those Days.

by Jehudah Steinberg.

I

When the time drew near for Samuel the Beadle to let his son begin his term of military service, he betook himself to the market, purchased a regulation shirt, a knapsack, and a few other things needed by a soldier--and he did not forget the main item: he ran and fetched a bottle of liquor. Then he went home.

And there, in the presence of his neighbors, of whom I had the privilege of being one, he drank a gla.s.sful to "long life," and offered another to Rebekah, his good wife.

"Drink, madam," said he, merrily. At this Rebekah turned up her nose, as if ready to blurt out with "How often have you seen me drink liquor?"

Indeed, it was an affront which she would not have pa.s.sed over in silence at any other time, but she had no heart for an open quarrel just then, when about to part with her son, and was satisfied with a silent refusal.

"Woman," said Samuel, angrily, "take it, and do as you are told!"

But Rebekah was not impressed by his angry tone, for in fact Samuel was an easy "lord and master." As to his loudness, it was but part of an old habit of his, dating from the days of his own military service, to bully his inferiors and to let those above him in authority bully him.

"So are they all of his kind," she would often explain to her neighbors. "They just fuss, to blow off their tempers, and then--one may sit on them."

Rebekah persisted in her refusal, and Samuel began in a softer tone:

"But why does it worry you so much? Woman, woman, it is not to Shemad, G.o.d forbid, that he is going!"

At the mention of conversion, Rebekah burst into tears, for Samuel had unintentionally touched her sore spot: there were rumors in the town that her family was not without blemish.

"Now that you are crying," exclaimed Samuel, thoroughly angry, "you are not only hard-headed, but also silly, simply silly! 'Long of hair but short of sense.' To cry and cry, and not know wherefore!"

With this Samuel turned towards us, and began to plead his case.

"Have you ever seen such a cry-baby? Five times in her life she filled the world with a hue and cry, when she bore me a child, and every time it was but an empty bubble: five girls she brought me!

Then, beginning with the sixth birth, she was fortunate enough to get boys, the real thing. Three sons she gave me as my old age was approaching. And now, when she ought to thank Heaven for having been found worthy of raising a soldier for the army, she cries!

Think of it--your son enters the army a free man; but I, in my time,--well, well, I was taken by force when a mere youngster!"

Here the old man settled his account with the bottle, and took leave of his crying wife and his good neighbors, and in the company of his son mounted the coach waiting outside, ready to go to H., the capital of the district, where the recruits had to report.

By special good fortune I was going to H. by the same coach, and so I came to hear the story of old Samuel's life from the beginning till that day.

It was the rainy season; the roads were muddy, and the horses moved with difficulty. The driver made frequent stops, and whenever the road showed the slightest inclination to go uphill he would intimate that it might be well for us to dismount and walk beside the coach a little.

The cold drizzle penetrated to our very skin and made our flesh creep. The warmth we had brought with us from the house was evaporating, and with it went the merry humor of the old man. He began to contemplate his son, who sat opposite to him, looking him over up and down.

The wise "lord and master," who had tried to instruct his wife at home and celebrate the fact of her having reared a soldier for the army, he failed himself to stand the trial: he began to feel the pangs of longing and lonesomeness. The imminent parting with his son, to take place on the morrow, seemed to depress him greatly.

Bent and silent he sat, and one could see that he was lost in a maze of thoughts and emotions, which came crowding in upon him in spite of himself.

I took a seat opposite to him, so that I might enter into a conversation with him.

"Do you remember all that happened to you in those days?" I asked by way of starting the conversation.

He seemed to welcome my question. In that hour of trial the old man was eager to unload his bosom, to share his thoughts with some one, and return mentally to all the landmarks of his own life, till he reached the period corresponding to that into which he was introducing his son. The old man took out his well-beloved short pipe. According to his story it had been a present from his superior officer, and it had served him ever since. He filled the pipe, struck a match, and was enveloped in smoke.

II

You ask me whether I remember everything--he began from behind the smoke. Why, I see it all as if it had happened yesterday. I do not know exactly how old I was then. I remember only that my brother Solomon became a Bar-Mitzwah at that time. Then there was Dovidl, another brother, younger than Solomon, but older than myself; but he had died before that time. I must have been about eleven years old.

Just then the mothers fell a-worrying: a Catcher was coming to town.

According to some he had already arrived.

At the Heder the boys were telling one another that the Catcher was a monster, who caught boys, made soldiers out of them, and turned them over to the Government, in place of the Jewish grown-ups that were unwilling and unable to serve. And the boys were divided in their opinions: some said that the Catcher was a demon, one of those who had been created at twilight on the eve of the Sabbath. Others said that he was simply a "heathen," and some others, that he was an "apostate." Then, there were some who a.s.serted that he was merely a bad Jew, though a learned one nevertheless;--that he wore the regular Jewish costume, the long coat and the broad waistband, and had the Tallis-Koton on his breast, so that the curse of the righteous could not hurt him. According to rumor, he was in the habit of distributing nuts and candy among Jewish boys; and if any one tasted of them, he could not move from the spot, until the Catcher put his hand on him and "caught" him. I happened to overhear a conversation between father and mother, and I gathered from it that I need not fear the Catcher.

It was a Sat.u.r.day night, soon after the death of my elder brother Dovidl, within the period of the thirty days' mourning for him.

Mother would not be consoled, for Dovidl had been her "very best."

Three brothers had I. The first-born, Simhah, may he rest in peace, had been married long before; he was the junior Shohet in town, and a candidate for the Rabbinate. Solomon was more learned in the Torah, young though he was, peace be unto him. . . . Well, they are now in the world-of-truth, in the world-to-come, both of them. But Dovidl, had he lived, would have excelled them both. That is the way of the Angel of Death, he chooses the very best. As to myself--why deny it?--I was a dullard. Somehow my soul was not attuned to the Torah.

As I said, mother was uttering complaints against Heaven, always crying. Yes, in the matter of tears they are experts. I have pondered over it, and have found it out: fish were created out of the mud-puddle, and woman out of tears. Father used to scold her mightily, but she did not mind it; and she never ceased bemoaning Dovidl and crying unto Heaven, "who gave the Angel of Death power over him."

On the night after Sabbath, when father had extinguished the taper in the dregs of the Havdolah cup, he turned to mother, and said: "Now man born of woman is unwise all his life long. He knows not how to thank for the sorrows that have been sweetened by His mercy, blessed be He!"

Mother did not understand, and looked at father questioningly. "The Catcher is in town," explained father.

"The Catcher!" shuddered mother.

"But he takes only Fourths and upwards," said father, rea.s.suringly.

Fourths, Fifths, etc., those households were called which had four, or five, or more sons.

"And our household has only three sons at present," continued father. "Do you understand, woman? Three sons were left to us, and our household is exempt from military duty. Now do you see the mercy of the Lord, blessed be He? Do you still murmur against Him, blessed be He?"--

So it was in those days. Every Jewish community had to deliver a certain fixed number of recruits to the Government annually. This number was apportioned among the families, and every family taxed the households composing it. But not every household had to supply a recruit. A household with a large number of sons secured the exemption of a household with fewer sons. For instance, a household with four sons in it was exempted, if there was a household with five sons to levy from in the same family. And a household of three sons was spared when there was, in the same family, a household of four sons. And so forth.--

And as father was speaking--the old man continued--mother contemplated us, as one that escapes from a fire contemplates the saved remnants; and her eyes overflowed with silent tears. Those were the last tears shed over the grave of Dovidl, and for those tears father had no rebuke. We felt that Dovidl was a saint: he had departed this life to save us from the hand of the Catcher. It seemed to me that the soul of Dovidl was flitting about the room, listening to everything, and noticing that we were pleased that he had died; and I felt ashamed.

The next day I went to the Heder, somewhat proud of myself. I boasted before my mates that I was a Third. The Fourths envied me; the Fifths envied the Fourths, and all of us envied the Seconds and the only sons. So little chaps, youngsters who knew not what their life was going to be, came to know early that brothers, sons of one father, may at times be a source of trouble to one another.

That was at the beginning of the summer.

The teachers decided that we remain within the walls of the Heder most of the time, and show ourselves outside as little as possible during the period of danger. But a decree like that was more than boys could stand, especially in those beautiful summer days.

Meanwhile the Catcher came to town, and set his eye on the son-in-law of the rich Reb Yossel, peace be unto him. The name of the young man was Avremel Hourvitz--a fine, genteel young man. He had run away from his home in Poland and come to our town, and was spending his time at the Klaus studying the Torah. And Reb Yossel, may he rest in peace, had to spend a pile of money before he got Avremel for his daughter. From the same Polish town came the Catcher, to take Avremel as the recruit of the family Hourvitz due to the Jewish community of his city. When he laid his hand on Avremel, the town was shocked. The rabbi himself sent for the Catcher, and promised to let him have, without any contention, some one else instead of Avremel. Then they began to look for a household with the family name of Hourvitz, and they found my father's. Before that happened I had never suspected that my father had anything like a family name. For some time the deal remained a deep secret. But no secret is proof against a mother's intuition, and my mother scented the thing. She caught me by the arm--I do not know why she picked me out--rushed with me to the rabbi, and made it hot for him.

"Is this justice, rabbi? Did I bear and rear children, only to give up my son for the sake of some Avremel?!"

The rabbi sighed, cast down his eyes, and argued, that said Avremel was not simply "an Avremel," but a "veritable jewel," a profound Lamdan, a n.o.ble-hearted man, destined to become great in Israel. It was unjust to give him away, when there was someone else to take his place. Besides, Avremel was a married man, and the father of an infant child. "Now where is justice?" demanded the rabbi. But my mother persisted. For all she knew, her own sons might yet grow up to become ornaments to israel . . . And she, too, was observing the ordinances of the Hallah and the Sabbath candles, and the rest of the laws, no less than Avremel's mother.

More arguments, more tears without arguments--till the rabbi softened: he could not resist a woman. Then mother took me and Solomon up to the garret, and ordered us not to venture outside.--