Memoirs of a Grandmother

Scenes from the Cultural History of the Jews of Russia in the Nineteenth Century, Volume Two

Pauline Wengeroff, Shulamit S. Magnus

• Publisher: Stanford University Press
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9780804768801
• eBook ISBN: 9780804790710
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Historical Biographies
• Index: History

Pauline Wengeroff's Memoirs of a Grandmother offers a unique first-person window into traditionalism, modernity, and the tensions linking the two in nineteenth-century Russia. Wengeroff (1833–1916), a perceptive, highly literate social observer, tells a gripping tale of cultural transformation, situating her narrative in the experience of women and families.

In Volume Two, Wengeroff claims that Jewish women were capable and desirous of adopting the best of European modernity but were also wedded to tradition, while Jewish men recklessly abandoned tradition and forced their wives to do the same. The result was not only marital and intergenerational conflict but also catastrophic cultural loss, with women's inability to transmit tradition in the home leading to larger cultural drift. Two of Wengeroff's children converted when faced with anti-Jewish educational and professional discrimination, unwilling to sacrifice secular ambitions and visions for the sake of a traditional culture they did not know. Memoirs is a tale of loss but also of significant hope, which Wengeroff situates not in her children but in a new generation of Jewish youth reclaiming Jewish memory. To them, she addresses her Memoirs, giving an "orphaned youth"—orphaned of their past and culture—a "grandmother."

1.

Preface

Encouraged by the reception of my first volume of memoirs, I proceed with joyous conviction to publication of the second.

True to my intention to portray the past truly and simply as it lives to this day in my heart and memory, I will let the strands of my tale spin out here and scenes of bygone times march by. I will not think about this becoming a book. I sit myself down once more in my snug old spot and tell—of my betrothal, my bridal year, my wedding, and all that came after.

The scenes of this volume are still partly stamped with the youthful joy that enveloped me during my engagement and the time of my wedding and with the marital bliss that still held sway in that golden age when the Jewish family and marriage were solidly united and built on the foundation of love, constancy, and friendship.

But the old times vanished and with them, much that was beautiful and grand in Jewish life. New times came and brought new ways. Different strings were plucked and gradually, new values formed. The spirit of the times tore the patriarchal, peaceful Jewish life to shreds and hollowed out an abyss between elders and youth.

But I thank God that it pleased Him to sustain me to see this day and that it was granted me to hear the hour struck that brought such great transformations in Jewish life: the reawakening of the love of Zion—a ring around the orphaned youth. With its first pealing, this old heart recognized the great Jewish melody that had been silenced for so long, that had once resounded so widely and deeply . . .

*   *   *

March out now, you pages, into the world. You were my consoling treasure since storm clouds gathered over my homeland; clouds out of which ghosts from the Middle Ages peered hideously. Lonely and forsaken, I moved to a hospitable country. This old woman, weary of wandering, found a home with my sisters Kathy and Helene in Heidelberg. Love never ends! I once nursed Helene in a serious illness, and I bore her troubles as if they were my own.¹ Now she took in the lonely one. The great, four-cornered table in her room on which I lay my papers, the paltry remains of an abundant life, became my homeland. But the mellow gleam of bygone days lay over them. Memory lifts the stone monument off the vaults of time and awakens the past to new life. Those were wondrous hours. Do you remember still, Helene? How often, in the ill humor of the present, did we laugh in blissful thoughts of the past! And oh, the tears, those silly things, how often did they dim our gaze . . .

March out, then, you pages, into the world! You were conceived in love, and love preserved you in my years of wandering. May love now also bring you to that ancient people, my younger brothers and sisters! . . .

Whether you have the power for this happy blessing—I do not know. But I should like very much to hope so and I may, indeed, hope as much without it appearing vain, because a man who fancies my memoirs has so emboldened me. Dr. Gustav Karpeles, a gracious and learned man, who passed on so prematurely, wrote me the following letters, among the last before his death. I set them out here. Only his kindness to an old woman led him to pick up his pen.

Berlin, Westend, the 25th of January, 1906. Kurfürstenstrasse 21/22

Most esteemed, gracious lady!

I have read your work at once with the greatest interest.

As I have said, your memoirs are not suited for a weekly newspaper since they would be utterly lost in so large a setting. On the other hand, it would be desirable for these interesting scenes of a time and a culture to appear in book form.

However, I would happily be ready to print the chapter about Dr. Lilienthal in the Allgemeine Zeitung des Judentums, and if you agree to this, would ask you kindly to return it to me.

With great esteem, yours very sincerely,

signed    Karpeles

*   *   *

Berlin W., 3 April 1909 Kurfürstenstrasse 21/22

Most esteemed, gracious lady!

I have read your new manuscript, too, with great interest and find the second volume at least as interesting as the first, indeed, to some extent, even much more interesting. I am also convinced that it will be very widely read.

Although, of course, I cannot write a Preface for it again, something which indeed, is out of the question, I will commend the work in the Allgemeine Zeitung des Judentums and the Yearbook for Jewish History and Literature as much as I can.

With best wishes and greetings, I remain, yours faithfully,

signed    Karpeles

.   .   .

2.

The Second Period of Enlightenment

Motto:

Do not cast me off in old age;

When my strength fails,

Do not forsake me.

—Psalm 71:9

Do not cast me out from Your presence,

Or take Your holy spirit from me.

—Psalm 51:13

In the first volume of my memoirs, I spoke of the momentous appearance of Dr. Lilienthal in Lithuania, about his electrifying effect on the youth, about his cultural mission of impending kheder reform, and the first stirrings of the coming Enlightenment. The young people, who had studied Talmud exclusively until now, were swept away by the new thinking and worked with holy fervor on their own intellectual development, their ideal being the fusion of general education with Talmud study.¹ Lilienthal was the first to bring this demand to broaden the narrow boundaries of the old learning and to taste of the “tree of knowledge” to a breakthrough.

Besides Lilienthal, there was Montefiore’s companion and secretary Louis Loewe, who, during his stay in Russia, took every opportunity to convince the Jewish youth of the need to acquire European culture.² His words resonated because Loewe was simultaneously a cultured man in the west European sense and a good Talmudist—the very ideal of the youth of those days. Loewe could secure respect for the new values as no one else could. He was Montefiore’s true guide, and it was inevitable that the glow of near idolatrous veneration accorded to this noble and courageous philanthropist in all the lands Jews lived extended to Loewe, too. The person whom Montefiore honored as a constant companion could speak openly, with no fear. Everyone was sure that what he said was completely sincere and could only be meant to secure the protection and ennoblement of Jewry.³

In the year 1846, an imperial decree was published saying that all Jews living within fifty versts of the Russian imperial borders were to be expelled, which meant ruin for many thousands of families.⁴ Here Montefiore’s work began and succeeded: execution of the draconian ordinances was at least delayed.

It was not the first time that Montefiore took his fellow Jews under his wings. All the Jews of Europe still remembered that notable journey to Egypt when Montefiore demolished the frightful blood libel, defended those in distress, and was able to restore the honor of the Jewish name before the whole world.⁵

The Jews were delighted about the honor shown the venerable couple almost more than about the success of Montefiore’s work in Russia. In every large city, Montefiore was welcomed by a high official who escorted him to his next stop. Gentlemen must behave so—by government order!—however poorly those charged with doing so concealed their rage. The couple was even received at the imperial court, where the courtiers treated Sir Montefiore, the English sheriff, with respect.

Tsar Nicholas I was very gracious at this audience and promised Montefiore to treat his co-religionists with greater leniency, remarking at the end, however: “If only many Jews in my country were like you, Sir!,” and suggesting that Sir Moses get to know the Jews of Lithuania and Poland better on his return trip.⁶

On the return journey, the Jews showed Sir Moses Montefiore and his spouse utmost respect. Every city of any size prepared a festive reception, the rabbi and distinguished Jews, joined by respected delegates of other cities, going out by foot a considerable distance to greet them. Unfortunately, they could not communicate directly with the couple because Sir Moses Montefiore and Lady Judith spoke only English; their escort Dr. Loewe translated. They were particularly interested in the lives of the Jews, which they sought to investigate thoroughly, through many careful questions, showing similar interest in the state of the economy and culture.

At the same time, neither the couple nor Dr. Loewe withheld the fact that the appearance and whole deportment of the Jews made an embarrassing impression. Dr. Loewe declared once more that the Russian Jews’ adoption of west European civilization was absolutely necessary: “When the Messiah comes and the Jewish state will be rebuilt, the Jews should not be inferior to the other nations. The Jewish youth must acquire culture in order to be prepared for civic freedom.”

This great couple did not bother with our city, of course, but a delegation under the leadership of our rabbi, Reb Yankev Meir Padover, was sent to convey the good wishes and gratitude of our community. My father should have been the first to participate in this delegation but unfortunately was kept home by illness. But in spirit, he followed the exalted travelers’ every step, because he received a thorough report of their activities nearly every day. The house was afire when these reports arrived. I can still see the gleam of sheer bliss in my father’s eyes when he was able to discuss the details of each and every event with his table mates—us children. I remember particularly vividly the memorable eight days that the noble guests passed in Vilna. From Petersburg on, reports reached Governor General Mirkowitsch, something which itself gave the journey extraordinary significance to the outside world. From the fifth post station before Vilna, the Jewish community, too, received news via express courier from the circle of the “sublime envoys,” as Russian Jews called the Montefiore couple, and a joyous commotion gripped all of Jewish Vilna. The community prepared a comfortable residence for the distinguished guests in the wealthy home of the renowned Reb Michel Kotzen and saw to an abundant supply of strictly kosher food.

With the rabbi and the city preacher at the head, the most distinguished citizens of the city went to meet the guests at the nearest post station. Thousands of Jews assembled in the Vilna suburb of Shnippeshok to give the much-awaited guests a joyful greeting. And when their carriage finally came into view, a great shout emanating from a thousand throats resounded: B’rukhim habo’im b’shem adonoi! (“Blessed be those who come in the name of the Lord!”) It rang out so powerfully and vigorously that the air shuddered in the distance. The rabbi blessed the arriving guests in German; the city preacher, in Hebrew. The elders of the community presented a poem to them for the occasion, entitled “Hacarmel.”

The elderly couple was brought to tears by this reception and thanked the community warmly. The crowd pressed so thickly around the carriage that it could barely proceed. The police could no longer maintain order because they, too, were swept away by the great mass of people. Escorted thus by ten thousand people, the retinue entered Vilna. The streets were filled to overflowing; people even stood on the roofs. The merchants deserted their shops, the artisans their ateliers. A holiday atmosphere gripped the whole city.

It was Wednesday, the 14th of April, 1846!

The next day, Sir Moses Montefiore, accompanied by Dr. Loewe, paid the Governor General an official visit and was received with the highest honor. He discussed Jewish affairs with the Governor for more than two hours and then proceeded to visit higher military officials.

In the following hours, these notables reciprocated the visit of the Jewish guests. The Governor General invited the venerable Montefiore couple to a banquet arranged in their honor, but Montefiore politely declined since, as a Jew, he could not eat with them. The Governor then invited him to make do with fruit, jams, and tea and would not desist until Sir Moses Montefiore obliged him.

By early morning on Friday, the streets and the house where the Montefiores were staying were surrounded by a huge crowd because word had gotten out that Sir Moses Montefiore would seek out all the charity establishments, regardless of nationality. The police had real trouble maintaining peace and order, especially in the streets where these institutions were located. A throng of needy people of various ages and creeds followed the guest, who dispersed great sums of money en route.⁷

A surprise awaited Sir Montefiore when he returned to his residence: following the custom of that time, the most distinguished citizens of the city had sent the finest wine and pastries for the Sabbath. In the evening, the pious couple wished to go to synagogue but could not get through the throng and were forced to turn back. The crowd was equally large in the streets of Vilna on Saturday morning, so Sir Montefiore and Lady Judith had to be led to the synagogue by a side street, but even here they were almost borne aloft by the throng. In the synagogue, they found a select group of Jews and Christians, there by special invitation. The synagogue executive greeted them in the vestibule, and ten pretty, young girls, dressed in white, strewed flowers before them. One of them stepped forward and welcomed them with a poem that praised the journey of the benevolent pair. A special prayer was said for them in the sanctuary itself.

On Sunday, the Montefiores went to the banquet at the Governor General’s, no long...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Copyright
• Title Page
• Series Page
• Dedication
• Frontispiece
• Contents
• Note to This Edition, to Translation, Transliteration, and Illustrations
• Acknowledgments
• Map
• Introduction
• Photo Section
• 1. Preface
• 2. The Second Period of Enlightenment
• 3. My Engagement
• 4. The Bridal Year
• 5. Arrival in Konotop. Wedding.
• 6. Four Years in My In-Laws’ House
• 7. The Transformation
• 8. Further Destinies Unfold
• 9. Alexander II
• 10. My Wise Mother Said Two Things
• 11. Kovno
• 12. Vilna
• 13. Helsingfors
• 14. Petersburg
• 15. The Dangerous Operation—Reform of the Kitchen
• 16. The Third Generation
• 17. My Husband’s Death
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index