Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One

by Hedy Thalberg James

  To the enchantment of many architects, the art of building also underwent a new phase. The intricate and complex works of rococo and baroque style as previously advocated by Maria Theresia or her Roman ancestors became less and less ornamental and also a little less filigreed or flamboyant. In other words, more playful and indescribably lovelier, reflecting these light and happy times. Homes for the new bourgeois and so-called middle class were built on the borders of the city, letting the city's ancient fortress walls stand, to keep out intruders at night.

  There were, of course, still the masses of the homeless and downtrodden; the destitute families with their large brood of even poorer children, who barely ever saw the sunshine in the summer and somehow tried to survive the bitter cold winters. But for the very first time, there was a ray of hope that misery in its extreme may see the light at the end of that never-ending tunnel.

  The changes, however, developed at a slow pace which was expected and welcome to the upper class, what with Austria's as well as many neighboring states’ and dukedoms’ easy and not at all hurried lifestyles. Joseph II, with his many progressive ideas for a rapid improvement, realized much too late his own mother's many warnings and finally died heartbroken in the staunch belief that all his underlings had failed. Yet, Vienna had infinite reason to be eternally grateful to him for the enrichment of all aspects of life and direction, be it medical, cultural, or social, so it called him the people’s friend! He would have loved to hear this tribute very much while still alive, as it was a salutation by the Austrians rarely paid to the Habsburgers.

  The Reinhardts, as always, adapted themselves with ease and pleasure to everything that was new, fair, and progressive. They had grown into a tightly knit family, enjoying life to the fullest.

  “Grandfather was a good teacher to all of us!” Christina, as she insisted to be called, was almost twenty-four, and Karl would jestingly be reminded that he had just recently passed the quarter of a century mark, which produced only a smile, a shrug, and a light “Oh well!”

  With no marriage prospects in sight for both children, Otto and Stephany wondered and discussed at length the pros and cons of telling Karl that they had adopted him. As always, the night before the big disclosure, they changed their minds, leaving things the way they were, preferring their peaceful life. Christina had not inherited her mother's natural charm and beauty, but was a combination of a very attractive and wholesome young lady, with an air of elegance and intellect. Her oval, healthy, shining face, with very distinct dimpled cheeks—which she disliked—was framed by dark, curly hair that sometimes proved to be a hopeless task to arrange and wore thin the patience of her servant in her attempts to bring about a desired style. Her blue-green eyes were her best asset, as they sparkled as soon as something piqued her interest or if she had something important on her mind, or to articulate. She was known to be a better speaker than listener and was mostly involved in the Reinhardts’ charity affairs and art exhibits at the many different museums. Her lessons in music, history, and several foreign languages were still a daily routine and an expected task. She also kept herself busy redecorating her brother's castle in Lindenfels, applying all her skills and knowledge to the last detail of perfection.

  Unlike Karl, Christina traveled with her parents at every given opportunity, always searching for new ideas and old treasures and trinkets. She claimed to be essentially necessary and desperately needed in one or the other palaces. Her many pets received her undivided love, which she justified, saying, “Not everyone is born to be married!” or “Karl's castle is like a child of mine!” which generally caused Otto and Stephany to shudder.

  Although she had many acquaintances in her own social circle as well as her many interests, she called Louise Romberg her very best friend. She was the daughter of a pharmacist living nearby, with whom Christina could relax, exchange secrets, and be completely herself. They both loved the opera and the theater and learned from each other, discussing all and everything. The Rombergs, unlike many other families, never tried to exploit or take advantage of their close friendship with the Reinhardts. Christina had so far not attempted to introduce Louise to Karl, as he always displayed a habit of snubbing her friends, sometimes even to the point of embarrassment. He would usually give his sister the distinct feeling that he thought she brought them home only to match him up with one or the other. Louise had been engaged up to a year ago, when her fiancée had changed his mind, proposing to one of her more beautiful sisters. “If it hadn't been for Christina, I would have lost my will to live!” She had confided this to Stephany Reinhardt, who could never quite imagine the contribution made by her daughter in such a delicate and personal matter but was nevertheless extremely pleased by Louise's praise for Christina. They had frequently invited her to their regular social affairs, but had, after several polite and honest refusals, refrained from asking her again. They assumed she was bored at times with such gatherings and probably also considered it out of her class, or like Karl would mostly proclaim, “Looks like a marriage market to me!”

  In contrast to his predictable sister, Karl portrayed himself differently. Even though tall, blonde, and very good-looking, he was known to his family only as warmhearted, witty, and lovable. “Our same sweet boy always!”

  To his few select friends, he was average in looks, polished, and direct. He, like all of them, was an excellent horseman. “At times a bit snobbish!” as some would tease. To the many lady-friends, he was handsome, well built, with a rough charm, but also a bit frosty, arrogant, indifferent, and at times rather sarcastic. They thought him a hopeless case, leading to nowhere, which showed in their eyes.

  To the many employees of the household, he was living up to the Reinhardt motto: 'To be noble, compassionate, and brave!' and was a “chip off the old block.” To his professors in Vienna, he was “a genius, equaled by only a few, yet so humble and always eager to learn!”

  Once, Christina had asked him jokingly: “How would you describe yourself, Karl?”

  “A man completely immune to criticism!” he had answered, joking back, and adding, “No one is as good as they would like you to believe... and no one is as bad either.”

  “Is this grandfather speaking?”

  “Right!”

  Otto, at almost sixty-seven, was a distinguished looking gentleman, his hair quite gray, but still working, never tiring, and enjoying every moment of it, as he still had his old passion for the belief that Vienna was in need of him. His beloved, beautiful Stephany, who had yet to get her first silver hair, had just been informed by her two children that a big birthday celebration was going to be held in her honor as fifty was, after all, a very special occasion to celebrate. Vienna had once more a great party to look forward to and it was something no one intended to miss.

  Aunt Bertha was still around, spending her time mostly knitting and crocheting, since Christina's hand-stitched dowry seemed to be on a permanent hold, and although she was seventy years old, she saw no reason to retire yet. Life had been very good to her and the Reinhardts in turn made it even better. Their name was still held in very high esteem everywhere and always connected to hard work and good deeds as well as modesty, rather than their ever-growing wealth. Nothing had ever interfered with their giving nature, and charity was still on their highest agenda.

  Even the new generation of dedicated servants and employees continued with Mrs. Fischer's instilled theory that to be called a Reinhardt was something special and to be proud of. One was expected to be clean, act properly at all times, and never be negligent towards anyone in need. Religion and politics were, for obvious reasons, not discussed, but the practice of it left to everyone's preference. Health and a certain amount of rest was important also, and nothing escaped Stephany's or Christina's eyes, who had, after all, been carefully trained to be a Reinhardt.

  America was being frequently discussed in the Reinhardt household, not on account of Otto's long-lost relatives, but rather its intriguing evolution, its courageous imm
igrants, and their brave endurance under the most primitive conditions. It had become impossible for friends to get in touch with any of the Reinhardt relatives. Not even their lawyer's inquiry and investigation had been fruitful, other than receiving a very puzzling letter from Adam and Laura, stating that after two years of waiting for the arrival of their relatives from Austria, they were now moving on to California.

  Otto shrugged, unconcerned. “Maybe they are doing well, after all, if they did not need to get in touch with their family.” He never gave any indication that he cared, while Stephany always felt that if they were in need, they would be in touch.

  Mr. Wiland had put the case file of the Bergers, Stradners, and Eckerds to rest in 1830, since it didn't matter to anyone any longer.

  ∼

  It was the end of February and Otto, who so far, along with his wife and children, had enjoyed good health, started to have a few bouts with rheumatism. “Papa left me this also along with all the good things,” he would joke, and like his father had tried to mostly live with it. The weather, a combination of snow and cold winds, didn't help to improve his condition. It was a Saturday night, and with all the pharmacies closed on Sundays, he was thinking in desperation what to do about the pain for the next two nights, angry with himself for being so careless in not getting his medicines replenished in time.

  On these trying nights, Stephany would sit close to him and hold his hand, while he would read Greek mythology to her. Seeing him in pain, she suggested sending Christina to the Romberg pharmacy.

  “On a Saturday night?”

  “Of course, Papa! Mr. Romberg will be more than happy to fill your prescription or give you something to make the pain go away. Besides, the Rombergs have to stay open late. Many people come to him at night to have their teeth extracted!” Christina assured him.

  “You don't say!”

  “Yes, Papa. If they have problems, they get cleaned up and dressed in their Sunday best and visit their doctor and pharmacist!”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Yes, they usually take a drink of alcohol before a visit to Romberg, to get a bit more courage. Our own Heinrich said it hurts less with a swallow of rum in him!”

  Otto laughed, grimacing painfully, as Christina continued. “I would never knowingly let you endure pain for a minute, if I can help, just because it's a weekend.

  He smiled, relieved. “Take along a servant. Maybe Heinrich. He seems to know his way around Vienna.”

  “I better not, Papa! The Rombergs always ask me to stay for a while to enjoy their good cakes and listen to their newest compositions.”

  “Why don't you ask Karl, then, to accompany you? He has not left the house in the past several days except for his morning rides,” Stephany muttered a little resentfully.

  “Any idea why, Dearest?” Otto asked concerned.

  “Sitting up there, drawing up plans for new buildings, as always. It's like an obsession with him, I believe!”

  “Well then! It's high time for him to get out a bit. Make a point of it that he goes with you, Christina.”

  ∼

  “To a pharmacy on a Saturday night? You must be out of your mind, sister!” he snapped indignantly, not wanting to be disturbed at what he was doing. “It's against all my principles to bother anyone!”

  “Karl, Papa needs his medicine. Besides, you have no idea how the other half of Vienna lives!” she protested. “They're happy for anything they can make their living with. The Rombergs just sold another of their horses to pay the bills for their two sons’ education, as their twins will be studying to also become pharmacists. They are not only glad, but thrilled, for every Kreutzer they can get. And think of poor Papa's unbearable pain!” she pleaded, not giving an option any longer.

  “We have dozens of servants who can do these chores,” he grumbled. “But if it is this important, let's go. I shall, however, wait outside,” he added firmly.

  “Now Karl, the Rombergs are extremely kind and cultured people, even if they are not nearly as well off as our family. But then, there are few families as extremely fortunate as the Reinhardts,” she apologized on behalf of her friend's parents, as they walked out on the street. Both parents had insisted they walk in order to get some fresh air and exercise. “Did you know that Mrs. Romberg has been ill as long as I've known her! The poor lady can hardly get around any longer,” she continued.

  “Rheumatism, like Papa?”

  “No,” she said with a sigh. “much worse.” Her bones are deteriorating, and she has a long history of heart trouble.”

  “Oh, that is really bad. I'm sorry to hear that. That’s another reason why I shall wait outside,” he declared.

  “Please Karl, they would be offended! You are not snobbish, are you? You don't want them to believe you are too proud to go into their old place.”

  “All right, you win!” he conceded.

  ∼

  The pharmacist and Karl shook hands firmly.

  “I am so glad to finally get to meet Christina's brother!” Pharmacist Romberg smiled sincerely, retreating to the back of his counter.

  “Would you tell me what you think of him, now that you've met him?” Karl joked, feeling at ease immediately.

  Entering through a side door they came into a parlor, which to Karl's surprise was well decorated with a mixture of old sofas and comfortable chairs, marble-topped tables and odds and ends of different periods. “Nothing of great value but arranged in rather good taste!” he thought to himself. He also loved the sound of a piano, accompanying a man's baritone voice, practicing a song from Schubert. There was also a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, indicating that some cakes and strudels were still in the making, assuring him that he and Christina were not interrupting the Romberg's quiet evening.

  Mr. Romberg, who had followed them into the parlor, nodded to a nearby chair in invitation. “Please take a seat, Mr. Reinhardt. I'll be back in a minute.”

  “Please don't rush yourself because of me. Time is really all I have tonight,” Karl affirmed, taking a seat. “Where in the world has my sister gone?” he wondered, when she suddenly reappeared munching on a piece of pastry and offering him some also.

  “Excuse me, Karl. I had to give Mama Romberg a hug or she would have been offended!”

  He shook his head in wonderment, seeing this side of Christina, whom he would never have expected to be so affectionate and considerate towards strangers, to think that she called her Mama. Just then, Mrs. Romberg entered the room with the help of a cane.

  “So, you are Christina's brother!” She repeated her husband’s earlier phrasing. “We’ve been hoping to meet you for quite a few years now. You know, she is my fourth daughter.” She smiled, embracing Christina fondly.

  “There are so few opportunities to meet or see anyone,” he answered cordially. “I already regret being unable to come to your home sooner!”

  “Just for being so kind, you will have to stay for coffee and apple strudel.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Romberg, I'd be delighted!” he assured her, and she was at once convinced of his sincerity.

  A loud scream coming from a nearby room, interrupted their conversation, for a second, but since no one was paying any attention, he also ignored it and held back his curiosity.

  “Christina tells me that you are not in the best of health?”

  “Best of health?” She smiled gratefully at his concern. “I would say twenty years of bad health would be more accurate!”

  He looked at her sympathetically.

  “Given no choice in the matter, one learns to live with many things, good or bad, including pain,” she replied humbly.

  “I was hoping the scream did not scare you away, Mr. Reinhardt,” the returning pharmacist said courteously. “I had given the patient some medicine before, but it is evident to me now that alcohol has more numbing affects at times. The poor man is still shaking!”

  “Is this unusual?”

  “No, Mr. Reinhardt, just a regular
Saturday night. Some patients smile, holding on tightly to the chair. And some faint before I even get my tools together!”

  “Excuse me for interrupting,” a soft voice came from a slightly opened door. “Mr. Holzinger has fainted.” She was gone before Karl had a chance to see who the beautiful voice belonged to.

  “Seen it coming,” the pharmacist said, rushing towards the door.

  “Can I be of any help?”

  “No, thank you, Mr. Reinhardt. Louise and my husband can handle it, they are such experts at this!” Mrs. Romberg replied for her husband, who had already disappeared. “Of course,” she continued. “there are times when more than one person faints. Then it does become a family affair, our other daughters doing their part also.”

  Karl noticed that Christine had run right after Mr. Romberg, “But as their fourth daughter,” he mused, smiling. “one might expect that!”

  “You are amused?”

  “I've just smiled because of my sister's esprit. I've never noticed this side of her!”

  “Oh, good Lord! This young lady must have been put in this world to help anyone that is in need.”

  “Hmm!” He smirked slightly in surprise, completely forgetting her involvement in all her charity work.

  “Don't give up, Mr. Reinhardt. I just took care of my last patient for the night. Your father's medicine will be ready in a few minutes!” the pharmacist apologized, reentering the parlor.

  “Mr. Reinhardt promised to stay for coffee,” his wife retorted quickly, the idea clearly pleasing to her.

  “How nice of you! In the meantime, may I show you my little sanctuary until the ladies are ready to serve us something delicious?”

  “By all means!”

  The patient was still stretched out on a couch; the girl, whose voice he apparently had heard, her back to him, and his sister kneeling on the other side of it. Louise was holding a bottle under the patient's nose, while Christina, trying to give him some fresh air, was waving a piece of cardboard above him.