Hungarian Rhapsody Read online

  by

  Wendy Teller

  Copyright 2019 by Wendy Teller

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN 978-1-7340758-1-6

  Printed in the United States of America

  Credits

  Cover Design: Richard F. Weyand.

  Cover Photo: Main Street, Nagykanizsa, Hungary, 1905

  Postcard. Photographer unknown. Public domain.

  Pages 19, 84, 129, 251: King James Bible, public domain.

  Pages 33, 35, 260, 261: A holnap asszonayai (Women of Tomorrow) by Ede Harkanyi, public domain. Trans. by Wendy Teller, all rights reserved.

  Page 61: derived from a 17th cent. English Ballad. Public domain.

  Pages 185, 186: Fruits of Philosophy, by Charles Knowlton, MD. Public domain.

  Page 251: The Two Donkeys, by Christian Morgenstern, public domain. Translation by Max Knight used with permission.

  Page 253: The Snail’s Monologue, by Christian Morgenstern, public domain. Translation by Max Knight used with permission.

  Page 254: The Snail’s Soliloquy, by Christian Morgenstern, public domain. Translation by Howard Stern used with permission.

  Page 255-256: The Fisches Nachtgesang, by Christian Morgenstern, public domain. Translation by Max Knight used with permission.

  Published by Weyand Associates, Inc.

  Bloomington, Indiana, USA

  December, 2019

  www.weyandassociates.com

  Also by Wendy Teller

  Becoming Mia

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to Ede Harkányi, who devoted his life to the rights of women.

  Contents

  June 1905, Nagykanizsa, the Austro-Hungarian Empire

  Wedding Preparations

  Fire!

  Learning to Read

  Kis Maria

  Virgin Mary

  Ede Confesses

  Ella Reads the Essay

  Mother Finds the Essay

  Needlecraft with Zsuzsi

  Ella's Discovery

  The Deal

  Clara Helps

  Ede and Ella Talk

  A Misunderstanding

  Therese's Problem

  Marketing with Clara

  Therese Returns

  Mother Understands

  Ella Considers Her Situation

  Miklos Brings News

  Mother's Plans

  Ella's Plans

  Father to the Rescue

  The Necklace

  Getting the Trousseau in Order

  Budapest Plans

  Knitting

  Nightmares

  The Loan

  The Ride to Budapest

  The Sisters

  Arrival

  Names

  The Café

  The Walk to Cecile's Home

  Tante Cecile

  Laura

  It will be All Right

  Rózsa and Suska

  Fruits of Philosophy

  Rózsa again

  Ruined Plans

  Ede's Question

  Miklos Reconsiders

  Getting Better

  Salon

  After Salon

  Work!

  Ella Explains

  Clara Comes to Town

  Reviewing the Galley Proofs

  Women of Tomorrow

  Book Review

  A Better Way

  Before the Crusade

  Author’s Notes

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  June 1905, Nagykanizsa, the Austro-Hungarian Empire

  The sun had barely risen over the horizon as three peasant women carried baskets on their covered heads, baskets heavy with early summer fruits: cherries, raspberries and apricots. Their stout figures, enlarged by their broad skirts and black shawls, walked north and east, to Nagykanizsa. On market days the path was filled with such women, their leather boots kicking up the road's dust. But today was not market. Today two rich Nagykanizsa families would be joined in matrimony and only the finest fruits, the most perfect flowers were good enough for the occasion.

  A flower-filled cart, which had started out before the peasant women, stood in front of the Church of the Sacred Heart, where the aunt of the bride directed the parish women in the decoration of the chapel. Father Joseph, who would preside over the wedding, stood aside, scowling, impatient with the intruders.

  Once the roses, the daisies, and the baby breath had been properly placed, the half empty cart traveled several blocks to the City Club, where the wedding dinner and reception would be held. There the remainder of the cart's cargo joined the fruit brought by the peasant women.

  Having delivered their goods, the peasants retraced their dusty path to their thatch-covered homes, leaving the cobbled streets free for the citizens who would attend the wedding, the bankers, the factory owners, the merchants – the important men who made Nagykanizsa the business center of Zala County. Of course Count Batthyány would not attend – he was an aristocrat who did not mingle with businessmen – but there had been rumors that the father of the groom, the late Mr. Herczeg, might have been ennobled. He had constructed many important public buildings: the railway station in Piski, the church in Kaposvár, the courthouse in Subotica, and more. The emperor himself had visited the construction site of the barracks in Csáktornya.

  Those who would attend the wedding, the families of the well-to-do, were getting ready, the ladies putting on their best dresses and fixing their hair in fine dos, the gentlemen wearing their Sunday suits, combing their beards, and waxing their mustaches.

  Mr. Weisel, owner of the iron factory and the machine works, inspected himself in the mirror: his plump face; his hair, still dark, but receding; his trimmed beard on his heavy jowls. He was a substantial man, in stature and in his community. He had hoped his daughter would be the bride today, but the groom was ready to marry and his daughter was still too young. Mr. Weisel sighed. There would be other fine men for his Ella to marry.

  Wedding Preparations

  Ella was not getting dressed.

  She stood against the wall, her fingers at her back running up and down the laces, searching for a bow.

  The red in Mother's face highlighted the dark mole on her chin. "Turn around this instant!"

  Ella shook her head.

  "Miss, it just needs to be a little tighter." Therese held up her hand, her fingers indicating a tiny space.

  The bone stays cut into Ella's ribs with each trickle of air she sucked in. She found a knot rather than a bow. Her fingers worked to loosen it. She exhaled, slackening the laces. Her fingers rolled the ties back and forth, finding a loop. Sliding her forefinger between the laces, she pulled the knot open and, running her hands up the corset back, she loosened the ties. She inhaled deeply, ignoring the oppressive sweetness of Mother's perfume.

  "You impudent girl. Turn around and let Therese do her job." Mother's lips pursed. "You will make us all late!"

  Ella shook her head. She took another deep breath, fully expanding her rib cage and filling her lungs with air, glorious air.

  Ella's little sister Clara, dressed in her party clothes, tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mama?"

  "Clara, what are you doing?" Mother's stormy face looked down at her other daughter. "Oh, never mind. Go get your father!"

  Ella looked after Clara with envy as she ran out the door. She was still young. She was allowed to wear loose clothing. How Ella longed for those more comfortable days.

  Ella's hair, swept up
in a complicated style, felt like it was being pulled out, centimeter by centimeter. Why did being properly dressed amount to torture? She released an auburn lock and twirled it, feeling her shoulders relax as the silky strand slid across her finger tips.

  "Ella! Stop!" Clara gone, Mother's glare returned to Ella. "You are ruining your hair and Therese worked so hard to make you look pretty!"

  Ella dropped her hand by her side and stared at her mother. Would she be like her mother twenty years from now, angry and sputtering? Ella promised herself that would not happen.

  "What is going on?" Father stood at the door, his walking stick in his hand, his tie just so. "This should be a good day, a holiday, a festival day. So what's the fuss?"

  "Deal with your daughter." Mother spat the words at her husband. "She won't let Therese dress her."

  "Why not?" Father's eyes glimmered merrily. He was ready for the ceremony and, more important, the party ahead.

  "Ella, my princess, why won't you get dressed?"

  Ella sighed and then took another deep breath.

  "My dress doesn't fit."

  Father tucked his chin and frowned.

  "Doesn't fit?"

  "Of course it fits!" Mother sharp voice cut through the moment of peace between father and daughter." She just won't let Therese tighten her corset, so the dress can be buttoned."

  Father glared at his wife, then turned his attention back to his daughter.

  "Ella, my dear, be a good girl. Put on your clothes, so we can go to the wedding."

  "Father, I can't breathe when the corset is tightened."

  "Don't you want to look pretty?"

  As Father approached her, Ella inhaled his scent of tobacco and mint.

  He tucked the loosened strand of Ella's hair behind her ear.

  "You're eighteen and beautiful. The most beautiful girl in Nagykanizsa. Maybe the most beautiful in all of Hungary."

  He lifted her chin.

  "It's time to look for a husband for you and you want to find a good rich fellow. You need to look pretty."

  Mother's voice rose from behind Father. "The sooner we get her married, the better."

  Ella locked her gaze on Father. "The dress is too small."

  He shrugged. "Then wear another dress."

  Mother snorted. "You think we have another party dress for Ella?" She shook her head. "I certainly don't have enough money for an extra dress for her."

  Father scowled at his wife. "Mrs. Weisel, enough."

  He turned his attention back to his daughter. "Ella, you may come to the wedding if you get dressed. If you don't want to get dressed, you will have to stay at home."

  He turned and walked out of the room, the tap of his walking stick punctuating every other step.

  Mother looked at the empty doorway, nodding. "All right. Ella, we have no time to waste. Let Therese fit your corset properly."

  Her eyes fixed on her mother, Ella shook her head. She would not wear that thing. She didn't want to sit through the wedding mass anyhow.

  "Very well. Ella, you are to stay in this room while we are away. No dinner. No books. A good chance for you to catch up on your mending and needle work."

  Mother turned to Therese. "And you are to stay with her." Mother nodded her head as she formulated her plan." To make sure she does as she is told."

  Ella knew Mother was punishing Therese too, to make the hours ahead even more unpleasant for both unhappy women, forced to miss a party, each resenting the other. And compliant Therese would forgo food if Mother commanded it.

  "Mother, can't at least Therese have something to eat?"

  Therese glanced at Ella.

  Mother's lips smiled, but her eyes were stony. "Oh, I suppose she can find something in the kitchen." Mother turned toward Therese. “Cook has banked the fire, so nothing warm, but I am sure you can find something there."

  Mother's skirts swished as she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

  "Help me out of this thing!" Ella couldn't wait to get into her skirt and blouse, back to her real self, not the doll Mother and Father planned to marry off.

  "Yes, Miss." Therese did as she was asked.

  Oh, Ella thought, does this woman – for she was a good ten years older than Ella – does she have no backbone? Why does she not rage against the injustice? It was not Therese's fault the dress was so small.

  Therese was a nuisance, this companion Mother thought so necessary. No, she was not a companion. She was a guard, a prison guard, to make sure that Ella did not misbehave. It didn't matter that all eligible young women had "companions". Her friend Zsuzsi had one too. But Zsuzsi was the perfect young lady, so she got along with her minder.

  Ella threw the corset on the floor, gratefully buttoned up her bodice, and slipped on her blouse and skirt. She loosened her hair, placing the pins in a box at her dressing table. Massaging her scalp, she sat on her bed, looking around the room she shared with Therese, her prison for the next several hours. So pretty, with its pale green walls, translucent white curtains, and white brocade bedspreads. So perfect with the cherry wood inlaid with oak in the bed's headboard, the wash table, the chairs, in every piece of furniture in the room down to the frame on the mirror. So prettily, perfectly awful.

  The sound of raised voices penetrated the door.

  "Mother, it is simply not fair!"

  "Well, you don't have to keep my unruly daughter under control, so you might think it unfair, but that's too bad."

  "But Therese has done nothing wrong!"

  Ella had to smile. She rarely agreed with her brother, Miklos, but today he was making perfect sense.

  "Just because Ella is impossible, why should Therese suffer?"

  "Because she is paid to suffer!"

  Therese moved closer to the door, her ear nearly touching it.

  Miklos’s words grew louder. "Mother, that is not very Christian!"

  Miklos had as impudent a tongue as Ella's, but her mother tolerated him. Because he was six years older? Maybe. Because he was male? Probably. Mother always wilted in front of men.

  Miklos's voice took a sweeter tone. "Besides, Clara will be happier if Therese comes. Therese always entertains her."

  "Miklos, we don't have time for this. We are going to be late as it is." Mother's sigh was audible through the door. "Maybe you're right. Therese can come. But tell Ella, she is to stay in her room. No dinner."

  The door burst open, framing a grinning Miklos. "Therese, put on your good dress. You're coming to the party!"

  He smiled as he turned to his sister. "But no party for you. And no dinner."

  Ella returned his smile. "Who wants to sit through another mass? We have to do that once a week anyhow."

  "No doubt the mass will be splendid, not a prayer or a hymn left out. But the party! It will be exquisite! Endre Herczeg loves to show off his...." Miklos rubbed his thumb against his first two fingers. "You can bet there will be the best food, and wine, and I hear Csárdás dancers will come. And there will be a Viennese orchestra, so we shall waltz!"

  He twirled in place, his arms around an imaginary partner. He looked back at his sister, his lips twisted in a smirk. "Too bad for you, but you'll have a great time with your needle work."

  Ella's smile remained. "Eat yourself sick. Drink yourself dumb."

  Miklos snickered."And, of course, you won't get to see your friend Ede."

  He understood his weapons, leaving the most lethal until last.

  Ella turned her gaze to the window, so her brother couldn’t see her face.

  Fire!

  After the bustle of the family's wedding preparations, the house was still. Ella had never been in the house totally alone before. No Mother, Father, Clara, or Miklos, no nanny or tutor or companion, not even Cook or Maid were at home. It felt strange and she wandered from room to room, without purpose. She stopped in Clara's room, which once had been the nursery. There, all these years later, was the charred spot, where a cinder from the fire had scarred the floor.

>   On that day so long ago, Mother had said Ella and Zsuzsi were too young to be with the adults in the salon, so they were confined to the nursery. Mother was having her afternoon, attended by everyone in Nagykanizsa. At least that was what Mother said. But that was clearly wrong since Ella was excluded.

  It would have been better to be in the salon. Ella's brother Miklos was there, and their friend Ede was there too. They were ten, which Mother considered old enough. She and Zsuzsi were only four. Ella thought four was old enough to attend Mother's afternoon.

  Ella nibbled a poppy seed roll and let the honey and nut mixture sit on her tongue, savoring the sweetness. But she was sure they had even better things to eat and drink in the salon. And she'd rather be with the boys.

  Nanny was helping Zsuzsi learn to spool knit, a way to make a long cord. Nanny had tried to interest Ella in spool knitting too, letting her choose any color yarn from the basket. But Ella was more interested in the pencil and paper Father had given her. She had begged for them. Father seemed uncertain until she said she wanted to draw designs like the ones on the iron railings made in his factory.

  She sat at the table grasping the cylindrical pencil, but it always seemed to squirm from her fingers. She drew lines. Horizontal lines, vertical lines, slanted lines. She drew circles. Circles with a tail going down one side or the other, like the cat sitting on a fence at Grandmother's farm. She drew circles with the tail going up, like the cat when the dog barked at her. Ella leaned back in the wooden chair, pulled a strand of hair from her clip, and rolled it with her fingers. She scanned the paper with the marks she had drawn. Miklos and Ede drew such things. They called it writing. She wanted to write too.

  "Are you girls having fun?" Ella looked up to see Zsuzsi's mother at the nursery door, carrying her daughter's coat.

  "Oh, yes, Mutti!" Zsuzsi jumped up carrying the spool, the cord, and the yarn. "See what Nanny taught me!"

  "Very nice dear." She patted her daughter on the head. "But it's time to go home."

  Zsuzsi's lower lip protruded as she shook her head side to side. "I don't want to go!"