Chapter Thirteen
A Favour To Ask Of You
"Which is what, precisely?" asked Mary.
"Well, you remember what Matthew said, when I told you something of the problems in Austria, about Friedrich's dislike for what is starting to happen there politically, about how outspoken he's been?"
Mary nodded.
"Not that I for one can pretend I understand anything about it of course. After all, I leave all that sort of thing to Matthew. Now, if, on the other hand, it had been to do with the latest gossip doing the rounds about the Lascelles, or who is likely to become Master of the Bramham Moor Hunt, then I would probably be able to tell you a thing or two, but as it isn't I can't, although speaking of Matthew, both he and darling Tom seemed to grasp what it was you were saying".
Sybil glanced at Mary and then smiled broadly. It was singularly odd. Since the Great War, the world had changed so very much, yet for someone in Mary's position it seemed not to have changed at all.
"Well, it's because of what is starting to happen in Austria that Friedrich and I desperately need to make some form of provision for Max".
"Provision?" Mary's ever expressive eyebrows lifted. "From what you said about Friedrich's family, money can't surely be a problem, unlike it is for some of us of course".
Again Sybil found herself smiling.
Mary was her eldest sister and, for all her social conceit and snobbery Sybil loved her dearly. But honestly! For Mary to think the Crawleys had financial worries when others elsewhere, especially in England, Ireland and in the States had lost everything in the crash of '29, when millions were without employment and with no prospect of finding jobs, Mary seemed completely oblivious to how the other half lived.
Even Mama's own brother, their Uncle Harold, like Sir Richard Carlisle, had lost heavily in the Wall Street Crash. Although Mama had never said so, Harold Levinson was rumoured to be in a private clinic in East Hampton, New York, which, in part, apart from her own mother being ailing, had, thought Sybil, prompted Mama's present trip to the States on board the Majestic. When, through her own medical contacts, Sybil had made certain enquiries as to the clinic concerned, she was not unduly surprised to learn that it specialised in treating alcoholics.
That apart, from what Tom had said to her at Christmas, Mary genuinely seemed not to really appreciate all the hard work Matthew had put in, both before and after he succeeded darling Papa as earl of Grantham, in order to right the years of neglect and profligacy - and for which their own dearest Papa was largely responsible - and so put Downton on as secure a financial footing for the future as he possibly could.
Sybil knew that Mary had been bitterly opposed to the sale of Grantham House up in London, seemed unable to accept that the world for which it had been built had already passed into history. Even dear Aunt Rosamund, now increasingly infirm, had been forced to retrench and move to more modest accommodation on the outskirts of leafy Wendover in what was called Metro-land. Still, as Aunt Rosamund pithily observed, it was preferable to living in Pinner and there were compensations: the Rothschilds lived nearby at Waddesdon Manor.
"No. It's nothing at all to do with money. That's not the issue. Well, not really. And then, of course, there's the problem of what we do about Dr. Lowenstein".
"Oh Edith, don't be so obtuse. And just who exactly, is Dr. Lowenstein?"
"Oh, didn't I say? Forgive me. He's the specialist, the doctor who's been treating Max, at least for the last few years, first at the General Hospital in Vienna, but more recently at his own private clinic near Salzburg, close to the Untersberg. In fact, he was in charge of the transfusion Max had there last year. The problem is that Dr. Lowenstein is Jewish. But after what happened at the Café Produktenbörse back in'29 and then at the Sperlhof in Leopoldstadt this year, we may soon have to find another doctor".
"Why? Whatever do you mean? What does what happened in a café have to do with the doctor who's been treating Max?"
"As I told you, Dr. Lowenstein is Jewish, and increasingly the Jews in Vienna are being made to feel they are no longer welcome in Austria. The places I just mentioned?"
Mary nodded.
"Well, both the places I mentioned were Jewish cafés, in Vienna. They were ransacked and wrecked, and those in them at the time, were beaten up by thugs. Friedrich says that those responsible were most likely members of the Christian Social Party. He was with Dr. Lowenstein at the Sperlhof when it was attacked. He tried to intervene, to protect Lowenstein, to prevent what was happening, and for his pains, ended up with several cracked ribs".
"Blimey! The people you mention don't sound very Christian to me" observed Mary laconically. Edith nodded her head in full agreement.
"Indeed. I quite agree. And there have been many other similar attacks on Jews in Vienna as well, and on their property too. Some people, many in fact, are now saying openly that Jewish doctors shouldn't even treat Christian children. Quite a few Jews have left Austria already and the way things are going, I'm sure others will follow, including Dr. Lowenstein. I don't know what we will do if he leaves Vienna, but he has a wife and a young family to think of. I know he has relatives in the Netherlands, so maybe they'll go there, or else to Poland where I believe he also has family".
"And all because he's Jewish? But that's absolutely ridiculous!"
"Ridiculous or not, that's what been happening in Austria in the last few years. And it's getting worse, much worse. That's why I need you to promise me something Mary".
"And what is that pray?"
"That if anything should ever happen, either to Friedrich… or to me that Max can come to you in England".
"He could come to us in Dublin. I know Tom would agree" offered Sybil immediately.
"That's very sweet of you darling, but you haven't the room and what with both Tom and you working, I don't think it would be fair to expect you to take on looking after Max as well. But thank you all the same". Edith smiled, squeezed Sybil's hand in appreciation of her younger sister's offer, recognising that it had been made from the heart.
When Mary still demurred, said nothing, appalled, Edith reached forward, grasped her eldest sister's hand.
"Do you want me to beg, Mary? Is that it?"
Mary recoiled. She looked horrified.
"No, of course not. But if things are as bad as you say they are, Edith, then why on earth don't both of you, don't all three of you, leave Austria now, and go somewhere else, even come to England?"
"Because Austria means as much to Friedrich, as Ireland does to Tom, as I suspect Downton does to you" said Edith. "His family are there too, whatever they may think of me, of our relationship. And, if Max survives, whether or not we marry, Friedrich intends for him to inherit Rosenberg. He's already made provision for it, in his will. But whatever happens, I know Friedrich will never leave Austria, and, although he's tried his very best to get me to agree to doing so, since I'm not prepared to leave without him, there's nothing more to be said!" she said defiantly.
At Edith's words, Sybil found herself thinking back to a long gone January evening in the small lamp lit kitchen of Ma's homely house in Clontarf where, early in 1920, she and darling Tom had their first serious quarrel, all over the question of them both returning to Downton.
"…and I'm not leaving Ireland. Not now; I can't!"
"Can't or won't?"
"Can't then!"
"And I'm not leaving without you. So there's an end to it!"
Sybil had only to close her eyes to see darling Tom as he had been then, standing by the kitchen table, in his shirtsleeves, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his collar undone, his tie pulled awry, his face flushed from the heat of the range, with tears starting in his eyes, running his hands impatiently through his already ruffled hair.
Every detail of that quarrel had stuck in Sybil's mind not only because it had been their first serious disagreement, but also because it was the first of only a handful of times in their entire married life that Tom had raised his voice to her. He was normally so gentle, so deeply loving and Sybil had to admit, if only to herself, that on that handful of occasions, she had been largely to blame for what had followed. And with Tom firmly in mind, Sybil knew that if Friedrich von Schönborn felt as passionately about Austria as Tom did about Ireland, then, whatever the risks posed to him by staying, she for one could well understand his heartfelt reluctance to leave his own homeland.
"You still haven't said, Mary… if the need arises, if things become… awkward, that I can send Max to you for safety in England. I need you to promise me, that you'll do as I ask. If money's a problem, then Friedrich has an account with Barings in London. He's quite willing to deposit a substantial sum to defray any expenses, medical bills, that sort of thing. Obviously it won't be forever, especially if…" Again Edith's voice faltered.
"Darling, don't be so awfully middle class. Of course things at Downton are not quite as they once were, but we haven't had to sell the family silver; in any case, Barrow would never allow it. And darling Matthew hasn't demanded that I start taking in laundry to help defray the bills, at least not just yet, so, I'm sure we'll be able to sort something out. But I'm certain it won't ever come to that".
Despite all of Edith's tragic news, Sybil now found herself smiling inwardly. The very thought of Mary, working in a hot, steaming laundry, beavering away like some Chinese washer woman, really was too delicious for words. Why, it was just like something out of the Fu Manchu stories which Tom had read to Danny when he was younger and which Danny was now reading for himself.
Edith sighed heavily, and then shook her head.
"I wish I shared your optimism, Mary, really I do. So you promise faithfully, that you'll take Max in, if…"
"Darling, after all of what you've just told the two of us, how could I possibly refuse? Of course he can come". Mary smiled warmly, ruffled Max's hair.
"Leave it with me, darling. I shall have to talk it over with Matthew, but don't worry, when I tell him why, I know he'll agree. After all, when I set my mind on something, invariably, I always get my own way".
Author's Note:
Henry George Charles Lascelles, 6th Earl of Harewood (1882-1947) married (at Westminster Abbey in 1922) Princess Mary (1897-1965), the only daughter of King George V and Queen Mary. The Lascelles lived at Goldsborough Hall in Yorkshire. They had two sons but the marriage was reported to be extremely unhappy.
Founded in the 1740s, the Bramham Moor Hunt is one of the oldest fox hunts in Yorkshire.
East Hampton: a wealthy village situated in Suffolk County, in New York State.
Wendover: a market town at the foot of the Chilterns in Buckinghamshire,
England.
Metro-land: the name given to the suburban areas built to the north west of London in Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Middlesex in the early part of the twentieth century and which were all served by the Metropolitan Railway.
Once a village, Pinner is now a very wealthy suburb of north-west London.
At this time, the Rothschilds were a very wealthy Jewish banking dynasty with several widely spreading branches of the family in Austria, England, France, Germany and Naples.
Waddesdon Manor is in Buckinghamshire, England. Built for Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild (1839-98) at the time of the story it was home to his great nephew James Armand Edmond de Rothschild and his wife Dorothy.
The Untersberg lies close to Salzburg in the Berchtesgaden Alps.
The attacks on the two Jewish cafés mentioned actually took place.
Barings: founded in 1762 and one of the oldest merchant banks in London.
Fu Manchu is a fictional Chinese master criminal who appears in several novels written by the British author Sax Rohmer (1883-1959).