On the sixteenth day of January in the year of our Lord 1759 the general store of the lord of the manor in Hegyhát is hereby leased to the Jew Aaron Smorakh in accordance with the points of the contract agreed as stated hereunder.
Firstly, the said Jew will stock in the general store all kinds of goods, iron and other necessities, to ensure that as and when the lord of the manor desires to purchase tools, equipment, or other goods for husbandry, they will not be wanting in the general store, and also so that the poor should not be obliged to walk long distances for every small thing.
Secondly, it will be permitted to the said Jew to trade in and sell salt, tobacco, candles, pipes, and other such small necessities.
Thirdly, if the lord of the manor himself or his officers or servants have need of some particular item and that item is wanting in his general store, the said Jew will be bound to obtain it and offer it for sale at a price that is meet. Fourthly, under the terms of this contract the Jew shall pay the sum of one hundred Rhenish florins by way of rent every year, and shall according to custom pay it in two parts, one part every six months. Fifthly, the said Jew shall be obliged to keep to the terms of this contract to the letter and if he should be disinclined so to do, it will be permitted to his lordship in person to take such steps concerning the general store as he deems necessary. Provided only that the terms of the contract are duly observed in peace, and that he behaves as behooves an honorable man, his lordship will provide him with due care and protection and will not permit any party to harass him unjustly. This contract will have force for a period of two years and if in the second year the Jew should be minded to extend it or surrender it to his lordship, he will be required to give three months’ notice thereof.
Stamped and dated in the year of our Lord stated above, on the day of the month and in the place there stated.
Bertalan T. Vámbéry
Aaron Smorakh was thirty-two years of age when he signed this contract, his hair already white, his face furrowed and worn. He knew that for their rapid change of fortune his family owed particular thanks to two powerful men who wished them well, namely Bertalan T. Vámbéry and His Majesty King Joseph II, who only a year after his intolerant mother’s death ordered that the Jews were to have the status of a “tolerated minority,” as they were “in this wise more useful to the state.” Aaron Smorakh even adopted as his own the favorite saying of the only uncrowned king of Hungary: “Es geht, wenn man’s nimmt!” “It goes-if you take it.”
His Majesty Joseph II had ten years earlier, while still co-ruler with Maria Theresa, determined that the Jews choose “proper” surnames. To this end they were to appear in the offices established with the aim of noting down the date of birth or death of every single subject of the Empire. Since the official language was German, it was expected that the Jews would choose German names. As a dutiful citizen, Aaron Smorakh duly rode into the town of Eger to find a new name for his family. His first act was to place two jeroboams across the ink-spattered desk (the family had by then obtained permission to cultivate a vineyard on a share-cropping basis), and then he asked the bespectacled officiaclass="underline" “Wie heissen Sie, Herr…?”
“Wilhelm Stern,” came the reply from the surprised official.
Aaron Smorakh drew himself up to his full height and announced solemnly: “Dann wird Stern unser Name sein.”
“ Sind Sie sicher?”
“Ja, ja.”
“Also, Stern?”
“Gut.”
Aaron Stern jiggled and jolted his way home to Hegyhát, with the deed poll in his saddlebag. Up went the new shop sign without any more ado: Stern and Son. Jacob, his firstborn, was already his right hand in the store.
Éva, now of marriageable age, these days often busied herself with her trousseau, assisted by two servant girls. Aaron Stern had laid by a crate of special, sparkling wine from the region of Champagne for the wedding feast. She had a dozen or more suitors vying for her hand in the next few years, but found none to her liking. By her age her older sisters had long tied the knot. Aaron Stern was more and more concerned: “You are certain? Not this one either?”
Éva would give a nod. She trusted that her father would have as much patience as she to wait for The One.
She met István Sternovszky in the burgh of Debreczen, whither she had gone with her father to buy supplies. A harvest ball was being held in the grand hall of the hotel. Aaron Stern was so pleased with the advantageous terms on which he had secured his purchases that he surprised his daughter with an evening gown decorated around the neck with the most delicate Brussels lace. The event was patronized chiefly by the nobility of the area, the only outsiders apart from the Sterns being the debonair Sternovszky boys, magnets for the fan-shielded eyes of every girl’s mother. István and János stood a head taller than the mass. Their glances kept returning to Éva, whose coal-black curls bounced and fluttered like dark little birds around her ivory shoulders. They both put themselves down on Éva’s dance card. Though they spent the same amount of time in the girl’s company, it was clear from the outset that István’s intentions were of the utmost seriousness. The Sternovszky boys were on a two-month tour of the kingdom, thanks to their uncle’s generosity. A few days later István abandoned the tour to ride to Hegyhát to see Éva again, leaving his younger brother in the hostel at Csaroda. Unable to see her, amid the utmost secrecy he sent her three brief letters. He received but one reply: “The road to me leads through my father.” The higher the wall, the harder it is to conquer, thought István Sternovszky, his ardor only further inflamed by the delicate pearly script of her dear hand.
Éva forbore to inform him that she had told her father: István Sternovszky is the one. Aaron Stern flew into a rage, his white hair billowing as he stormed: “Have you taken leave of your senses? The Sternovszkys of all people… Does that man have any idea who we are?”
“He does, rest assured, father dear.”
“Do you think his family will let him take a Jewish girl to the altar? How on earth could anyone imagine that?”
“Let that be his business.”
For more than a week István Sternovszky delayed making the announcement. His mother had a weak heart; he knew that if he now said his piece, it might be the end of her. Borbála no longer resembled the girl she had once been: in recent years she had put on a great deal of weight, so much so that she was now out of breath after taking just a few steps, wheezing as if she had run halfway round the town. The doctor had put her on a strict diet that she only pretended to keep. Sometimes she would even slip out in the dead of night to feast on something from the larder.
When István Sternovszky finally steeled himself to speak to his mother, Borbála was lying in the deckchair, her feet raised off the floor, digesting her modest breakfast, which consisted merely of a bacon omelette, a jug of cream, two green peppers, a cup of Turkish coffee, and a few prunes that did not really form part of the meal but were taken, rather, for the benefit of her digestion. Hearing that her son wished to speak to her, she closed her eyes in weary anticipation of news of further debts amassed by István at the card table. “How much this time?”
Her son’s attempt to explain that this was about something else, that he wanted to marry, made simply no sense to Borbála. “Who is this Éva?”
“The girl I want to marry.”
“You?”
“Yes, Mother, me, not the Pope!”
“But you are still a child.”
“I’m in my twenty-third year.”
“Yes, but even so… just like that? From one day to the next?”