Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 30, 2023
Part 1: I Hate Loose Ends, Especially Mine
Nothing frustrates me more than discovering a side trail at the END of my walk ... that was from last week on Lone Mountain ... except, of course, a loose end in a story. I did not know Hive posts have a size limit until last week ... that's the second time I've discovered an actual Hive limit -- and so I could not tie up these loose ends:
What happened in Köln? How was Herr Kantor rescued, and what happened to the baron -- and that brave servant, Walther?
I ran out of time and space ... but January 1824 still has New Year stories to tell us, and I have been enjoying so much music, so I'm just going to walk through costuming back to it as Fräulein Matthaus, and we will begin in light, where we left off... with a little help from the most radiant portion of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis, which I am loaning to Herr Kantor's dreams from my own... the choir is amazing, and the quartet of soloists is soprano Cheryl Studer, soprano Jessye Norman (singing mezzo-soprano), tenor Placido Domingo, and of course, humbly bringing up the star-studded rear, Kurt Möll ... as a choral composer, this is indeed the stuff of dreams!
As usual when I travel 200 years back, Frau Kantor met me.
"Always right on time, my dear friend! Thank you for bringing more applesauce! That long journey home brought my husband's fever back a little, and that unsettled his stomach, but he can eat your applesauce and loves it! Danke schön!"
"Bitte schön!" I said, and we danced around the kitchen in perfect happiness ... it was a Happy New Year, after all, in the Kantor home!
"He has been in such good spirits all along, and you know the day after he got back the postman delivered a gift -- a friend in Vienna sent him a copy of Beethoven's new High Mass!"
"It is said Herr Beethoven has outdone himself with that -- and then Herr Kantor has one of the few available copies, given that the Missa Solemnis is not even a year old," I said.
"I know!" Frau Kantor said. "But that voice and the heart that goes with it has made him friends who will do more than a little for him and us! So now, he is not in pain when he is asleep, and forgets his suffering when he is awake, and in between that, I feed him and know it is staying down, and --."
"And this is why, Herr Heinz, I will not have him overrun by people who just want to hear what happened," said the soft but firm, deep voice of Dr. Lukas as he was on approach. "Human nature is so strange to me -- a man is trying to heal, but people want to take his mind, the most necessary part to his healing, back to the place that he was hurt, over and over again! I will not allow it!"
"Thus it shall be -- I'll make sure it is known in the village."
Then, in a softer tone ...
"I don't know if his mind is clear enough to answer all that anyhow," he said.
Dr. Lukas sighed.
"It may never be," he said. "He took one truly terrible blow to the back of his head. Partial amnesia is indicated in such cases. He and I are reading through Beethoven's new mass also to purpose; we do not want him to remember right now. The last thing he needs is to have a clear memory of and be reciting what his body and mind need to heal from."
Dr. Lukas and Herr Heinz entered and bade us good morning.
"Just saying good morning -- it's a calm day and I've got to get over to the cathedral on the day's work!" Herr Heinz said. "Farewell -- and I'll be back to walk you home, Fräulein Matthaus!"
"Oh, I never doubted it," I said, and he grinned as he was going.
Dr. Lukas pulled a large bottle with a bright-looking liquid out of his bag.
"I sent to the apothecary at Köln," he said, "and here is citrate of magnesium, which should ease both Herr Kantor's nausea and muscle spasms, all at once. The taste should not ruin his enjoyment of your applesauce, Fräulein Matthaus."
"Danke schön," Frau Kantor and I said together.
"I think with this, he will finally turn the corner," Dr. Lukas said. "Good nursing -- I commend you both -- and plenty of prayer, rest, and such food as he can take is working."
Frau Kantor busied herself with getting a light breakfast prepared of toast, applesauce and a few lovely crumbles of cheese -- "I'm going to put a few more on there in case he can eat them!" -- while Dr. Lukas and I went in to see the patient after washing our hands and also rinsing them in vinegar.
Frau Kantor had already lifted the curtain, so Herr Kantor lay whisper-singing in his dreams, radiant in the morning sunshine coming through the trees ...
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 23, 2023
"He has not had a single nightmare," the doctor said softly. "All the choirs of saints and angels have met him the instant he slept, and now that we have read through to the Sanctus and Benedictus in Beethoven's new mass, they all have it."
"Almost a shame to wake him," I said.
"Which is why I have been very grateful for your small and gentle hands," the doctor said. "I do believe we will be able to permanently remove all but the bandages and stitches on the back of his head today -- if we are careful, we need not wake him yet."
Our patient never flinched, and had healed well, with minimal scarring to his handsome features.
"It looks like he had good wound care all along," I said.
"He did," Dr. Lukas said as he passed ointment across to me after he had passed a damp cloth with vinegar over the healed wounds. "Now that part of the story is truly remarkable, Fräulein Matthaus, and there is no harm in telling you."
Once he began, all the rest of the story appeared around us ...
Part 2: The Predator Looks for Prey (and Misses Our View)
Baron Edward von Schadenfreude paced around the roof walk of his castle, casting his eye on the southerly turns down the road that led to the little towns to the south of Köln, among them one called Hoffnung.
The baron -- silver-streaked dark hair, square jaw, dark, burning eyes -- was above all things the tragedy of a man with good intelligence and capacity who had chosen evil. Otherwise, he might have been content and happy. He had done enough to get his seat where such men imagine they deserve them in European myth. His medals of rank and service from his brilliant career as a military commander glittered in the sunlight, and the black cloak flying out behind him in the breeze was secured around his large neck with a massive emerald pin, set with aquamarine and gold. The castle also was his. In addition, he had the honor of being chosen from all available barons for the honor of being chief steward for Prince Solomo Adenauer.
The baron was 45 years old, old enough by 19th-century standards, particularly as a veteran of the Napoleonic Wars, yet was still in his full strength of mind and body, tall and handsome with a glorious bass voice. Had he known of anything of humility and gratitude, he might have been happy, and safe.
For that matter, it was a beautiful winter day, and the views that the baron commanded would have been enough to put another man more taken with the glory of being alive into ecstasy on such a day ...
His castle was situated on Alamo Square Park in San Francisco for the day, and had he walked with me on January 8, he would have seen the famous houses on Steiner Street in front of San Francisco's lovely downtown skyline...
... and then walked around to see my beloved Buena Vista Hill ...
... and then around to see Lone Mountain.
Yet as Edward von Schadenfreude turned the corner on his walk again, all he saw was the galling absence of the country rector whose very existence had driven the baron to the edge of madness.
What in the 21st century would have been referred to as Herr Gurnemanz Kantor's complete unbotheredness was maddening to proud men of rank in 19th-century Europe. While the rector honored all positions of authority, he knew every human being was a mere steward of the Earth, and that his mastery of his stewardship made him worthy to stand with or against any other man as equal. So, out of his confident humility as well as his great artistic gifts and good looks -- the same 45 years of strapping manhood, silver-streaked dark hair, square jaw, and dark eyes, but made even more attractive by so long in the service of good, not evil -- he had a greater name in the world than many of hereditary rank in Germany.
Germany at the time had no great potentate to compare with the King of England, the Czar of Russia, the Austro-Hungarian Emperor, not even with the president of the upstart United States of America, himself in command of as much territory as would make a solid European empire. So, Herr Kantor had walked as artist and beloved friend in greater circles than his own nation provided ... and Edward von Schadenfreude, born a baron, decorated military commander, hated the rector for that.
There were two more personal reasons as well. One was from the Napoleonic Wars. The baron had overheard it said by Prince Solomo's late father, Prince David: "Von Schadenfreude is unmatched in strategy and tactics, and although he really does not follow orders well but makes of them what he wants, he is brilliant enough to get away with it as long as that young singing doctor keeps the men's morale up. Bless God -- we have Herr Doktor Kantor, on our side!
Baron von Schadenfreude had been stunned by that -- his victories, given away to another man? Who was this siren servant?
After the Napoleonic Wars, Baron von Schadenfreude had been on business in London when the sensation from America had arrived -- the young Negress Diane Matthaus, out of the grip of a Hessian master in Virginia, with a voice unlike any that was known in the opera houses of Europe, singing songs that touched the soul like no other. She also was being trained in the European arts and was a good student, for she had been permitted, through her teacher's influence, to understudy for Handel's Messiah that year.
Baron von Schadenfreude instantly wanted the young woman for himself ... she had a pleasant plumpness and strength that compared well to a German woman, and she was the color of caramel bronze and had a sweet, trusting face ... and that voice ... if he could just get her as his plump, dark little plaything ... his little singing blackbird that he would let out of her gilded cage to sing often enough ... she would be his ticket to the halls of the great men Germany did not have, between more personal enjoyments!
But, no -- that same Dr. Kantor was her teacher, and he had all of her love! He might have done anything he wanted with her ... but, no ... he had the love for her of a protective father, and his deep, powerful father-love sufficed her completely. She blossomed and bloomed like a dark rose in Dr. Kantor's carefully vetted circle for her, the glory of all of Europe's nobleman was not even visible to her because she was in his light!
This was where Edward von Schadenfreude's general disdain of lesser men and lust for greater power and reach met his deep sense of failure, and converged into an obsessive hatred for Gurnemanz Kantor, a hatred increased because the now "common rector" was taking his time responding to the baron's summons to sing bass in Haydn's Creation? Now it had been snowing heavily and the roads were impassible for all but the past 36 hours, and Hoffnung was a whole day's ride even on a good day away -- but Baron von Schadenfreude had been waiting more than a decade to get level with this man!
"Wo ist er?"
Where is he? The voice thundered down in anger and left terror in its wake. Old Prince David had told the truth about the baron: he was a highly capable man who thus hid his utter hatred of people. If he did not have a specific victim in mind, the hate got spread around -- and Prince Solomo had not yet seen that. He had once reprimanded the baron, but forgave him because he had no idea of the depth of the problem.
The man enjoying his reign of terror at last saw his prey -- too far away to actually hear him, but with his long glass he could see that Herr Kantor was singing as he gently rode, looking like he had just left realms of glory.
"Ah, my angel Raphael-to-be," the baron purred softly. "You come singing to sing at my will, and to get your plump little wife and my plump little dark plaything here ... but to Heaven I assure you that you and they will never return!"
The full awfulness of his devilishly dark cackle could be heard all down through his castle. Those who knew how to pray did so ... and took courage.
The moment when the baron started down the stairs from his castle roof walk was known to his servants -- they all listened for his step as they did for his deep, penetrating voice. Every servant of his knew they had better hear and answer him calling the first time.
"Walther," he said once he had gotten down to the second level inside.
"Mein Herr!" gray-haired Walther replied, and got up those stairs like he had young knees.
"Take all the doormen up to the walk, and look south on the road from Hoffnung. Note well the large man with the princely bearing on the unusually large horse with the bright mane. That is Herr Kantor. He has made me wait, so now I shall make him await my convenience. To him, my schedule is full until I say otherwise."
"Ja wohl, mein Herr!"
So Walther had to go down and then back up ... but when the baron's back was to them, the doormen picked up the aging steward and carried him because they knew in winter his knees hurt him.
Meanwhile, the baron called another servant up.
"Adolf."
That servant -- a younger, leaner, hungrier-looking fellow more of the baron's own bent -- met the baron instantly upon the second landing.
"Mein Herr!"
"Herr Kantor is in route, and having altogether too good a day for my taste. Go out and make sure that in every inn at his price point that we have any say about, there is no room at the inn. I want him to have exactly three choices: freeze, go stay at an inn of ill repute, or have to go above his price point."
"Mein Herr, if he freezes, he can't sing."
"Of course he won't freeze, but either he will have to pick up fleas, bedbugs, and unsavory associations, or he will have to overspend his budget to avoid that. Either way, I want him to be desperate, and to take my price point for his services no matter what I choose for that to be."
"Brilliant, mein Herr," Adolf said.
"Of course -- now go, Adolf!"
"Ja wohl, mein Herr!"
The baron continued downward, still not satisfied ... he knew Herr Kantor's voice opened doors for him that otherwise might not be available.
"I wish I could take that from him," the baron murmured to himself, "and I will, though not yet!"
One of the serving maids saw her chance.
"But, mein Herr, you have such a lovely voice yourself," she said sweetly. "Surely no other man's voice compares with it in any way."
He turned around on the first landing ... ah yes, Adeline ... forward young peasant girl who was moving up in the laundry ranks ... buxom, blonde, and definitely willing to serve. There was enough of her to devour for a good midday meal, and the baron was hungry...
However, the baron also had rules for himself about his adulteries.
"Learn how to stay out of conversations you are not in, wench," he said in gentle reproof before adding in his double-deep purr, "although I do appreciate the recognition, even as I recognize your great beauty."
He smiled, and she was dazzled ... then he showed off the full range of his voice to capture her soul for later command of her body ... and delighted in telling the truth as he did it, for it was "Death and the Maiden" he sang, and alas for the maiden who does try to escape in that song, but does not know that in not stopping her ears to Death's answer to her protest, she will not be able to resist him!
Everything stopped for three minutes, because indeed, the baron's singing was lovely, but...
"Adeline didn't have sense enough not to get Death's attention," Walther's wife Kristine said to fellow servant maid Emilie. "When the stars in your eyes are the reflection of the hellfire in his!"
"We promised Adeline's mother," Emilie said. "We have to get ourselves and her out of here this year!"
"I know," Kristine said. "Walther and I have done a little something -- just know, to freedom in this earth or in Heaven if need be, we are going forth from here, soon!"
At last, the baron made it to the ground level, feeling much better ... a little lust, a little music ... it all helped.
Then there were his responsibilities ... why he could not enjoy Adeline without advanced planning ... while at his own castle just as at the prince's palace, working, there were things to consider in order to keep his position in life stable.
"Sebastian."
"Mein Herr!"
"Is Lady Katharine my wife back from the hot springs?"
"She is, mein Herr, and awaits your pleasure."
For her, the only and lovely child of a baron of slightly greater wealth, Baron von Schadenfreude observed rules: no lesser adulteries in his wife's vicinity. No lesser adulteries ... .
"Excellent timing, Sebastian," he said. "Has Lady Vanessa's retinue been spotted yet?"
"Yes, sir, the marchioness dowager is on schedule to enter Köln before sunset."
"Very good, Sebastian. Technically she is the prince's guest, although she is here to settle some legal matters of her late husband's estate for clarity for their son the new marquess. We do know which three hotels she prefers, so when she arrives and is settled in one of them, we shall show her the prince's compliments even in his absence."
"All is ready, mein Herr."
"Very good. I shall pass the afternoon with my wife -- I am not to be disturbed until Lady Vanessa enters Köln."
"Ja wohl, mein Herr!"
Part 3: In the 19th Century, Having a Spare Horse Can Get You Places
That same January 8 as flooded with light to the west from Alamo Square, with Buena Vista Hill and Sutro Mountain beyond it
Still out on the road, Herr Kantor was gently riding his huge horse, Hellerhelm ("Bright Helm" for his silver-white mane, and of the breed known as Clydesdale after 1826). Not that the horse was all that tired, because the rector had made a two-day trip from Hoffnung, and the horse had time to eat and rest overnight as did his rider. But Herr Kantor was in no hurry. His heart was too full, and the day too beautiful. He knew it was possibly the last day of his life on Earth, but the worst that could happen to him was that he would go from the glory of the terrestrial to the glory of the celestial, and it seemed to him that day that the light of the two glories was already blending over him, beginning a welcome even as the evening neared.
The rector's thoughts were interrupted for a time as a noble retinue began to overtake him at much greater speed -- he cleared the road out of respect, and waited. It was not long before it passed, but as it went, and for a moment the dust gave a reddish cast to the sky, his heart overflowed ... at first tears, for he had been a widower, and he knew what his second wife would endure if things went as badly as they likely would ... but then, she had said to him:
I would rather be your widow, and tell our child that you died a faithful man for righteousness than to live with you in tormented conscience and that be the legacy you leave us. You must do what is right, whatever the cost.
He had thus arranged it so reprisal would never come anywhere near her ... every step toward Köln was a reinforcement of that fact, and reinforced his courage ... so when the tears passed, the music came ... he knew he might be in the twilight of his whole life, but for the right, to spare all those he loved the terror of a wicked man ... and so, the twilight, given also by God as the sun was, was the most beautiful of all, for the falling of night only meant that those prepared would have been drawn to the Source of all radiance ...
And thus it was that the noble retinue, a half-mile ahead of him, saw him riding up with glowing face, like some angel dispatched in a common man's clothing ... a pothole had claimed the leg and thus the life of one of the carriage horses in the noble retinue. The cavalry horses were too small and not suited to pull ... but Herr Kantor instantly dismounted and offered his horse to fill the place of the lost one, for Hellerhelm drew his owner's carriage at need back in Hoffnung, and, said he, "I can easily walk into Koln from here!"
"Nay, good sir -- the house of Ridderbusch does not so treat its benefactors," the captain of the guard said. "We shall pay you the rent of the full mile for the horse, and you shall ride up with us into Koln!"
The house name was familiar to Herr Kantor, but at the moment he could not recall from where. But, nothing doubting, he hopped up by the driver of the noble carriage and was carried as swiftly as he had ever ridden all the way into Köln, where Hellerhelm was returned at the hotel of the marchioness's choice, and his rider was paid the rent of the mile in fine, gleaming gold coin.
Herr Kantor had not gone five minutes from the hotel before the captain of the guard overtook him.
"The Marchioness Dowager von Ridderbusch did not recognize you at first in your hat and great coat, Herr Gurnemanz Kantor," he said, "but your extraordinarily deep speaking voice stirred her memories of your singing, and she has sent me to find you! Have you your accommodations yet?"
"Not yet, Captain."
"Then, friend, move on up a little higher! I am sent to bring you back to the Hotel Goldene Pracht with me, where you will stay with my men. Your record in the Napoleonic Wars is remembered well, for the late Lord Moritz, Marquess von Ridderbusch, was among your commanders -- you are a worthy addition among our soldiers!"
So from a day of golden light to the hotel of golden splendor for the night, where he was recognized by the master of the establishment.
"Oh, speak of the angel -- Dr. Kantor -- surely you are heaven sent! The Marchioness Dowager von Ridderbusch is here and the singer who was supposed to sing for her after-supper soiree tonight has fallen ill and I know that you can do it if only you will!"
"I am willing, though not entirely ready after a long day of travel -- but I will do my best, all the same."
The hotel master turned around and started giving orders, and the angel of the hour soon had a fine bath with good steam to warm his voice up, and a rented concert-ready suit with a tailor coming running to make alterations.
Meanwhile, Baron von Schadenfreude came and did his presentation on behalf of the prince at the marchioness's supper, and was in a fine mood. He had heard that Herr Kantor had not come to rest in any of the inns under the ban, and so assumed his plan was working. He had no idea that just an hour after he left the hotel, his enemy would conquer every heart within earshot, and that the marchioness would insist he be given accommodations "worthy of his great art, for he not only rescued me on the road, but now has rescued my night's rest!"
Thus Gurnemanz Kantor rested for the night in the Knight Suite, free of charge, and there he would be until it was the baron's pleasure to see him. For three days he dutifully went to see the baron, and every day he was refused, so, he returned to the Hotel Goldene Pracht and enjoyed his days, making friends with the soldiers and servants and musicians around the marchioness and at the hotel, getting paid to sing there for various events at full concert rates (and thus, to send bank notes home to Frau Kantor!), and being called by the marchioness to share in her midday meals in the private park behind the hotel --
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 22, 2023, in Golden Gate Park
-- because "My late husband the marquess admired you so much!"
Baby Lord Moritz, the new little Marquess von Ridderbusch, also became an instant admirer of Herr Kantor. The baby son who had lost his bass-voiced father could not get enough of his father's favorite singer, and staked his claim to the master singer's heart! Herr Kantor The master singer had lost his first family as collateral damage in the Napoleonic Wars ... so as Fräulein Matthaus filled the place of the rector's eldest child -- a daughter -- baby Lord Moritz took over the place of the rector's baby son, and refused to get out of it except for feeding and changing. He kept crawling right back, and howling at every intimation that they would be separated ... so dinnertime became suppertime, and Herr Kantor remained invited for that. He ended his day with the marchioness and her intimate circle with an improvised recital of gentle songs before handing her deeply sleeping son back, a smile on his little face.
"We have known very little happiness since his father died," the marchioness said with tears in her eyes, "yet he and I both rested well last night and will tonight ... danke schön, Herr Kantor."
"My pleasure, my honor, my duty, meine Dame," he said, and bowed deeply before bidding her and her retinue good night ... to be recalled to dinner and supper every day thereafter until the baron gave him an audience!
Part 3: Baron von Schadenfreude's Rude Awakenings
Three mornings later, word finally got to the baron in his castle that all had not gone according to plan.
"HE WHAT? WHERE? WITH WHOM?"
What had tipped Adolf off to how things had gone wrong was that every day, the utter unbotheredness of Herr Kantor in not seeing the baron was increasing. He looked exceptionally well-rested and was not the least flea-bitten either.
Adolf had followed up, and had learned where Herr Kantor was and who he was with and what he had been doing. Adolf's reward? The full experience of the baron's rage as the baron yelled at him in full voice and shook him like a rag doll before flinging him to the castle floor.
Walther entered then -- with a horrified look at the half-conscious Adolf -- and brought a message to the baron. Since the marchioness was technically Prince Solomo's guest, all her expenses at the hotel were under his assumption. She had added Herr Kantor to her retinue, so the full concert pay and fine accommodations for him were going to be coming out of Prince Solomo's accounting -- meaning his administrator had to pay that bill!
Walther busied himself helping the injured Adolf from the room as the baron turned over his oaken desk, broke the chairs like they were toothpicks, and ripped velvet curtains down and to shreds in his hands like they were gossamer. The voice of his rage voice boomed through his castle like it had been patched in directly from Hell.
"We gotta get out of here," Adolf moaned as Walther struggled to get him down the hallway. "We gotta get out of here ... ."
"I've been telling you!" Walther said. "Now you have seen for yourself!"
Other servants came to help with Adolf, but all of them soon scattered but Walther and Kristine -- they knew they had to stand up to the blast to protect the rest, and both would have to organize the clean-up and get that room back into tiptop shape by the time the baron got back from doing whatever he would do to calm down.
"We said this year," Kristine said, "but it may need to be this week -- maybe tomorrow! Even Adolf with his taste for wickedness finally sees we have to go for our lives!"
"We have to wait on Prince Solomo," Walther said, "but Prince Solomo's man to start the ball rolling is here, and I expect he will now get his audience later today -- and Prince Solomo cannot be more than a day behind him now!"
Sure enough: unsuspecting Herr Kantor, when coming to inquire later that morning if it were the baron's pleasure to see him that day, was told that he would be granted an audience late in the afternoon, and so returned to the hotel to again be invited to dinner on the lawn with the marchioness.
It so happened that the baron swung around in his ride to look across a field with his long glass onto that hotel back lawn ...
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 22, 2023, in Golden Gate Park
... and there was Herr Kantor, the overjoyed baby marquess bouncing on his lap while the child's mother was looking increasingly looking ready to risk it all -- and not for the man who had carefully planned his adultery with the vulnerable widow!
Baron von Schadenfreude saw red in his sudden rage. He forgot all about Haydn's Creation and the bigger plan, because all he wanted was to get to grips with Herr Kantor and rip him to shreds, by hand. That man had now snatched the heart of the marchioness, so the plan of the baron to become a widower and wedge himself in there was now also lost -- all betrayed, just like that!
"Oh, you handsome little man, across the field, with my next woman ... come to me ... I await you! If I cannot have her, let her heart be broken again, over your dead body!"
Nothing suited Baron von Schadenfreude so well as the song of a murderer in his betrayed passion, for his feelings perfectly summarize Brahms's "Verrat" ... and we shall let our lead bass spare his voice a little for the next act and have British bass Alastair Miles fill right in...
Just how bad it was became apparent to those at the castle when the baron ended his ride by walking home ... his horse, too old to be ridden so madly, had given up the ghost, and lay dead and even beaten afterward in the field, in Herr Kantor's place!
The baron appeared calm at last, but his clothes bore the sign of the "accident" with the horse. No one so much as blinked out of place, because they knew he was now fully in his madness. He was indeed calm enough to return to his original plan ... it would be a more satisfying revenge to exact every ounce of value from his victim first ... but it was just a matter of time before he beat the life from Gurnemanz Kantor with his own hands.
Part 4: The House of Ridderbusch Takes Its Stand
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 22, 2023, in Golden Gate Park
Meanwhile, while the little marquess was happily climbing on him like he was some Alpine mountain, Herr Kantor finally got around to telling the widowed marchioness why he was in Köln. However, Lady Vanessa had noticed how long it had taken him to share about the invite from the baron -- his humility accounted for a lot of that, but not all.
The great singer was troubled. She knew this, for he was like her husband in temperament ... unwilling to allow her to be troubled in any moment that he could prevent that. Thus her beloved Lord Moritz, the late Marquess von Ridderbusch, had kept the full revelation of his imminent death from her until the morning he died -- and even then, he had gotten up and died sitting up in his chair, a last brief love letter to her being his last words.
Lady Vanessa had not been able to do anything for her husband; he was much older, and had simply reached the end of his days. But this was different. Just after Herr Kantor had gone to the castle for his meeting with the baron, it came to her: Herr Kantor was going to refuse the invitation, and it would cost him his life. He would not allow his international reputation to be misused by the baron to cover his many crimes, and had come to Köln to refuse in person so that the baron could retort only upon him, not upon his village and loved ones. And so, this precious man had spent what were likely his last days, and had eaten his very last meal, making her and her son happy, without complaint!
"Captain Fortinbras!"
"Meine Dame!"
"Take your ten best men, and get into Baron von Schadenfreude's castle -- I don't care how and I'll take responsibility with the prince later -- or Herr Kantor will be murdered tonight!"
"What -- meine Dame -- who, what? Who would do such a thing?"
"The devil!" Lady Vanessa cried. "The devil in Edward von Schadenfreude when Herr Kantor tells him no!"
Captain Fortinbras staggered back just a little.
"He has been here all this time, knowing he was under a death sentence, but would not darken your days --."
"No!" Lady Vanessa said. "I tell you, NO -- get over there and rescue him!"
Captain Fortinbras straightened up.
"Meine Dame, it shall be done as you command, with pleasure," he said, and was gone in ten minutes with the best of the guard.
Part 5: The Confrontation, the Fire, and the Dungeon
"Fire 2," fractal art by the author, Deeann D. Mathews
Meanwhile, Walther, with knees aching and all, was conducting the baron's guest up to the castle study, and quietly praying. It had been Walther who had heard of Herr Kantor's careful inquiries about musicians and artisans mistreated by the baron. Walther had directed many more people than Herr Kantor knew of to go see Herr Kantor and have him record their accounts to send to the prince. Walther wanted to ask if Herr Kantor had heard back from the prince, but there was something about the quiet assurance of the rector that made Walther think things had worked out.
All Walther had to do was to get Herr Kantor away from this meeting alive ... he had a plan ... it was desperate, and dangerous, but it had to be, and everybody understood what to do. On his way halfway back down all those stairs, he checked in with all the men and women who knew their roles, and their jobs, before climbing back up to be in position.
Things started out well enough in the study. Baron von Schadenfreude was pleasantly surprised to find that Herr Kantor, even with all his accolades and access and accomplishments, was completely submissive to his expected role in the conversation as a commoner. Still deeper: even though Herr Kantor had just come from sitting with a woman and child of higher rank than the baron, there was no sense of comparison of importance. Herr Kantor paid attention to the baron as if no higher-ranking personage existed, and considered what the baron said with the full weight of his intelligence ... the baron could see him thinking along with his layout about the grand plan to stage The Creation.
"It is truly a marvelous vision, mein Herr, showing your administrative mastery," the rector said after several moments of consideration, and the baron felt a pang of joy, anticipating what would be the happy side of his victory ... the recognition of the prince, the region, and the world would be assured, because Dr. Kantor had not been in a major concert for almost three years, and people would make their way at least from England ... perhaps even from the upstart United States among men who were rich enough ... all that would forever have the name of the baron attached!
In his joy, the baron made up a beautiful set of lies, describing how he would make ways for the people of Hoffnung to come and enjoy at no cost, and make special accommodations for pregnant Frau Kantor and Fräulein Matthaus with her. The baron delighted at the rector's answer: "Such a brilliantly conceived portrait of generosity, mein Herr."
Since things seemed to be going well, the baron let himself go a little, stretching his legs in pacing around the room while going on, and on, and on about the exposure all the musicians would be getting because of Prince Solomo's recent triumph in peacemaking, and how this might even be a greater feather in one's cap then the distant acclaim of foreign lands.
"Surely it would rebound to great honor for our beloved Germany, mein Herr, and our hopes of its future unity, if all were to go as planned," the master singer purred.
"Most certainly!" the baron said, now exhilarated at his own success. "It will be a triumph for German art that will be remembered for this next century -- and it shall be mine -- and yours, Herr Kantor!"
That beautifully high-lifted phrase rang in the air until Herr Kantor calmly knocked it down.
"It shall be yours alone, mein Herr. I deeply regret that I cannot accept your gracious invitation and participate."
"What?"
While the baron stood stunned, Herr Kantor pulled out the great packet of accounts he had collected of the baron's misdeeds toward artists and artisans in the region ... things they had not dared to speak of before Herr Kantor rallied them. These accounts he put on the baron's desk.
"I have 87 reasons not to let you use my reputation to cover your wickedness, right there," he said. "However, it is the 88th letter that you had better read."
Herr Kantor put that letter on the desk already open, and Edward von Schadenfreude fell back into his chair, seeing the handwriting of His Highness Solomo Adenauer in that 88th letter, responding to the letter and accounts sent him by Herr Kantor, and also to the baron's scarcely veiled threats against the rector, his family, and his village.
"You are finished, mein Herr," Herr Kantor said calmly. "If the weather holds, you have about 12 hours to settle all your earthly affairs before Prince Solomo is here, nine days ahead of schedule, to hold you to account. You have that same 12 hours to run for your life, which I would seriously consider doing if I were in your position!"
The rector at last let his great voice ring throughout the castle, and everywhere it was heard, hope and courage sprang up!
"You also have 12 hours to do whatever you wish with my body, here in your power -- one last crime -- but the last! You shall never have dominion over my wife, my heir, my adopted daughter in music from America, the village of Hoffnung -- and even me for long, for what can you do but send me to Heaven? I should almost owe you thanks for that, and because of that I will not begrudge you a proper warning and invitation: your end has come by me, not that I am anyone of account, but my Master would have it known that He is greater than your master, your master the devil whose damnation you must share if you will not repent!
"This is your last chance, Lord Edward, Baron von Schadenfreude! All the things for which you have given your soul are now beyond you -- but there is One Who has paid your soul's redemption price, if you would yet turn to Him!"
The baron missed his last opportunity like a man stomping on a gas pedal with a lead foot at a stop sign -- his roar of refusal seemed to almost rend the stones of the castle, and the screams of his rage following that were just as primal and terrifying. This was when the baron's less courageous servants and his wife got moving, thinking that for the second time in a day they heard the screams of his damnation come up before the time they should have been heard. The guard of Ridderbusch saw them all fleeing the castle, and that gave them occasion to slip inside.
Meanwhile, Herr Kantor's life flashed before his eyes as the baron stepped back beyond arm's reach and pulled his big gun from his waist ... yet in looking back over his life, the rector felt nothing but gratitude and peace, in which he was ready to rest ...
Click.
The baron's gun was not loaded! He had forgotten: as a safeguard for his own temper, he did not generally load it at home, and the bullets were in his bedroom! In his anger he thought to pistol-whip, but he forgot Herr Kantor was his fellow war veteran, and so got his gun swatted out of his hand, all the way across the room into the fireplace and fire!
The baron looked at his aching hand in shock -- Herr Kantor had landed the first blow!
*"Now if I had come to fight you, mein Herr, and if there were a chance of a fair fight... ."
But the baron and his dozens of servants were still between Herr Kantor and the castle door, so the baron stepped back and roared: "Walther! Sebastian!"
They came.
"Hold this man!"
Herr Kantor had no intention of hurting the servants, and so submitted ... and then realized they also had no intent of hurting him ... they were scarcely holding him ... all was not as it appeared!
"If I have 12 hours, you have 12 minutes, Gurnemanz Kantor, for the last 12 years of you taunting me, blocking my plans, stealing my victories -- I will beat you to death myself!"
The baron raved it all out while he stripped himself to the waist and prepared to do the beating, and thus Herr Kantor was the first to know outside the baron's household that the chief administrator for the region had been a stark lunatic for the last 12 years. But meanwhile, the servants, without moving their lips, shared the plan with Herr Kantor -- and so began the three men's dance with death, for they kept stepping back just a little as the baron swung, while also moving around until they and the baron had exchanged positions in the room. Now, the baron was no longer between them and the door!
Meanwhile, on the roof, the fact that the baron also didn't pay his chimney sweep enough came back to bite him as his servants on the roof began knocking the soot buildup back down into the fire -- so suddenly his fire blazed up beyond his fireplace.
"Fire!" Walther cried, and the baron turned around to see the blaze licking up to the roof of the room.
"Oh, NO -- you knaves had better save my castle!"
There was water stored at this level of the castle for just such an emergency, and instantly Walther and Sebastian departed to get that as other servants, knowing their job, also came to do the same. That left the baron a few moments to yank down the nearby curtains to keep them from catching fire, and a few moments to turn around and marvel at Herr Kantor, who to the baron's disbelief was still on his feet -- staggering backwards toward the door, or rather toward the wall nearest it.
"By what devilry are you still up!"
"Oh, you are the expert on devilry, mein Herr!"
On cue, the fire unfurled itself all the way over the baron's head in one long lick across the stone roof, and he looked back and then up and then back at the rector, who was laughing as he rested against the wall!
"Since they do not pay for chimney sweeps or musicians in Hell, mein Herr, do know that you will fit right in there!"
The baron stood with mouth wide for a long moment, and then put the countertenors out of business with his shriek of rage as he rushed Herr Kantor, who actually had the right idea: let the baron hit the wall! However, Herr Kantor's could not execute this perfectly because he was already too hurt; he did not take the full blow, but the baron caught him hard enough to crack his head against the wall and knock him out. But the baron mostly hit the wall and then was driven to the stone floor like a pile by the unconscious rector as they both bounced off the wall. Their combined weight was well over 400 pounds -- and so the baron also was knocked out.
Walther and Sebastian put their buckets of water on the fire and then the full bucket brigade moved in as the two lead servants went swiftly to where the rector and baron lay entwined in each other's near-deadly embrace -- the baron's face was bleeding and he was turning blue because he could not shift the rector's weight off his chest to breathe, and the rector was bleeding profusely from the wound to his head.
"A pity we have to save them both," Sebastian said, but he and Walther dragged the unconscious rector out of the room as the baron's chest heaved with the life-saving air. Two other servants were waiting, and all four men together got Herr Kantor into the modern dumb waiter for the laundry and sent him all the way down to the ground level, where four more servants got him out, put him in the laundry cart, and got moving to the one place in Köln the baron would never look.
Meanwhile, Captain Fortinbras and his men ran up all those stairs a half-minute too late -- all they saw was the bucket brigade at work on the fire, blood-soaked Baron von Schadenfreude still unconscious and gasping, and bloody footsteps -- but because they did not know about the dumb waiter or what lay below the castle, they assumed Herr Kantor, though wounded, had made it down the drafty, rickety servant's staircase from there to the road -- but from there, where?
As all the water used above to fight the fire dripped down through the castle, the place where that water went on its way to return to the water table was where Herr Kantor was also taken -- down into the castle dungeon, where Kristine and Emilie and Adeline had prepared a clean place to hide the injured rector. It was too cold and damp there for his safety in the long run, but it was the best they could do. He was in shock by that time, but they had warm blankets and compresses ready, and when that passed, then they began cleaning, bandaging, and stitching his wounds -- and then Hans, the big man among the servants, wrapped the rector's chest to protect his rib cage.
Walther came down to the dungeon later to bring three big bottles of wine from his rucksack.
"The rector's voice is too big to have him moaning and groaning," he said. "This is the sweetest mead we have -- keep him quiet, because the baron is down on the ground floor, and that's too close for the baron to not hear him when he himself is not moaning and groaning."
Meanwhile, Captain Fortinbras and his men reported back to Lady Vanessa.
"The rector fought that devil like a lion and escaped him, but we have no idea of his whereabouts, and the baron has ordered search parties out as well."
"Find him -- do you hear me -- we couldn't do anything for our great marquess, but I am not going to lose my heart's only consolation! Gurnemanz Kantor must not die wounded in the streets! Take the entire guard -- FIND HIM!"
"It shall be done as you command, meine Dame."
Part 6: Some Found, Some Lost, and Some Getting Home
Again from Alamo Square on January 8 -- St. Dominic's Cathedral, with Coit Tower back of it, but we shall imagine that cathedral to be Herr Kantor's own home church, and thus be looking at Hoffnung, far, far off... both he and the baron desire to see it, but only one will...
Yet even the loyalty of Captain Fortinbras could not overcome the next day's blizzard -- the whole city and region was silenced, even as the man who wished to take Gurnemanz Kantor's voice only succeeded in taking his own with that great fit of shrieking rage followed by all of his ribs being badly bruised -- but such a storm meant Edward von Schadenfreude had time to recover while his servants were presumably out searching for Herr Kantor. Walther faithfully reported what districts of Köln were to be covered next, and kept a straight face when the baron hoarsely expressed his hope that the rector was somewhere dead under the snow.
Meanwhile, Herr Kantor experienced what his concussion and the sweet mead used to keep him comfortable and later the fever of his pneumonia would never allow him to clearly remember: for four nights and three full days he lay in the castle dungeon. The courageous servants of the baron alternated a 24-hour watch over him, singing and praying to encourage themselves when in the dungeon they were safe to do that openly ... so that became his only clear memory.
Baron von Schadenfreude, on the third day after the blizzard, became both impatient and slightly aware of his own situation. He had been told: every inch of Köln had been searched. The streets had also been cleared; no bodies under the snow.
So, the roads to Köln also now clear enough for a man with an strong, active horse, the baron left Köln himself in the search on his new horse ahead of Prince Solomo's arrival. It was just necessary to stay alive long enough -- surely Herr Kantor, even on horse, could not have gotten that far down the road to Hoffnung in his condition -- the baron would surely overtake him.
Meanwhile, the guard of Ridderbusch had noticed strange activity around the back of the baron's castle; a few of the servants dammed up the drainage there every night with snow, and let it out in the morning. Captain Fortinbras obtained a copy of the layout of the castle, and thus discovered its dungeon.
"They are keeping the cold wind out of there at night -- there is someone in that dungeon, and we are going to find out who!"
Inside, Kristine had noticed that Herr Kantor's fever was increasing dramatically, and his breathing literally was crackling -- pneumonia had set in.
"We have got to get him to a warm place and a doctor!" she said to Walther.
"Now is the time -- the baron has gone from the castle, down the southern routes, looking for him! Let's take him up to the baron's own bedroom, for we can get that warm!"
Just then the guard of Ridderbusch made it into the castle dungeon, and presented their weapons to the servants.
"Please, sirs, let me explain," Walther said. "Look at him! We are not his jailers -- we hid him here from the baron and have cared for him the best we can!"
Captain Fortinbras went and looked, and then put away his weapon, his men instantly following suit.
"You have cared for him here, all this time?"
"It was the only place we knew the baron would not think to look," Kristine said.
Captain Fortinbras considered the situation, and then solved it for everyone.
"Gurnemanz Kantor is under the protection of the house of Ridderbusch. Everyone who has protected Herr Kantor here may likewise come under that protection!"
So, that night, the house of Schadenfreude was abandoned. Walther closed and locked every door of the castle, and made sure every fire and light was out. For 30 years, his stewardship had kept life livable there for everyone. Many of the baron's victims had gotten out through that dungeon during those 30 years as well ... but Herr Kantor was the last, and his courageous stand had opened the door for the baron's servants to at last be free as well.
Meanwhile, Lady Vanessa's doctor and the hotel doctor had received their patient and were hard at work at the Hotel Goldene Pracht. Near dawn the marchioness's doctor came to plainly tell her: "We are at the crisis. Herr Kantor shall see dawn here, or in Heaven!"
He could not stay and comfort her -- he had to return to his patient -- nonetheless, she would not go without comfort, for Prince Solomo Adenauer at last arrived. She turned into his embrace and wept, and then at last slept, and awoke to the news both she and the prince wanted to hear: "Gurnemanz Kantor has seen dawn here, still in the Earth! His fever has broken!"
It seemed every bell in and around Köln was ringing -- the prince had returned, the evil baron had gone -- and the prince's voice also rang a sweet note.
"All shall be well, Lady Vanessa," the prince said. "He is not only a benefactor of the house of Ridderbusch, but also of mine and the whole principality. When his condition is stable, I shall have him taken up to my palace to recover, and you are welcome to come also, as my guest."
As for Baron von Schadenfreude, he was well disguised and well provisioned, and with a good horse ... but here, his story line again converges with that which he was drawn from: the obsessed wanderer of Schubert's Winterreise. The baron had now begun his winter journey, a hunted fugitive from where he once sat as administrator, his castle and wealth and wife lost to him, his only hope lying ahead of him, somewhere where surely Gurnemanz Kantor, surely just a few steps ahead, would fall into his grasp ... ever and always just a few steps ahead ...
Meanwhile, Herr Kantor regained consciousness two days later, having gone from the dungeon of a baron to the palace of Prince Solomo, in a princely room, being princely taken care of.
"And if I had been told I was lying there all the while, thus being looked after, I would not have known any better," he said about it. "I rested in peace, in gentle loving hands and faithful fellowship, all those six days. I truly do not remember anything else after the baron rushed me but the fellowship, and the peace."
By this time, Dr. Lukas was attending the patient, and recalled the rest.
"From the first day I have said the very same: because of Herr Kantor's large size and the severity of his injuries and illness, he must rest, for exhaustion alone can kill. So at that early time I forbade him any visitors. However, His Highness may pose an exception to any rule in any matter under his dominion, and in his wisdom makes wise exceptions. He was due to go southward and pass close to Hoffnung the next week, and he had already heard of the wonderful change in the village since Herr Kantor had returned there.
"So, the prince came and visited the rector on his third day of convalescence, and encouraged the patient by mentioning all the good in Hoffnung he knew of. As I said, Prince Solomo's exceptions to the rule are wise, for I have never seen a man's condition improve so dramatically as Herr Kantor's when he heard good spoken of Hoffnung by the prince. He became stronger and stronger as he spoke with the prince of all things in Hoffnung, including the need for the crane at Koln to be moved down to do the work to stabilize the old cathedral since the new one had been destroyed in the wars between the principalities. For that Herr Kantor asked, most graciously, and Prince Solomo most graciously granted it.
"Before leaving, the prince added, 'If you are well enough in five days, Herr Kantor, I shall convey you home and thus see Hoffnung for myself on this journey.' From that moment, Herr Kantor rallied, and though not well was well enough to undertake the journey home in that five days -- and so also he is now recovering well! He has not yet come out of the light of his joy and gratitude! I pray he and the village of Hoffnung ever walk forward, in that light!"
Epilogue: The Lesson in the Journey
That scene faded around me, and I found myself on a glowing evening in San Francisco in Golden Gate Park...
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, December 23, 2023
... and the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past sat by me, glowing in gratitude.
"Frau Mathews ... you essentially wrote what would make for an opera for me as double lead, to wrap up those loose ends!"
"Well, I figured that since you and your doppelgänger felt the need to scare me half to death over 'Der Leiermann' in Winterreise, we might as well get the most out of that!"
"You certainly did ... how Dr. Kantor and Baron von Schadenfreude's fates are linked over the preceding 12 years, and also even in their entrance and exit: Herr Kantor enters alone, with his home and wife left far behind, and gathers everyone in front of him to him such that after their meeting, the baron leaves alone to go down that same road, leaving his home and wife behind ... but he is lost, while Herr Kantor is found."
He paused, and then put both hands over his heart.
"Mein Herz -- mein Herz!" he sang playfully from Schubert's "Die Post" in Winterreise. "Surely if I had still a mortal heart, it would be near to bursting ... you took what I said to August Everding all those years ago about every song being an opera fitted for chamber music, and worked that out in writing!"
"I do listen to you," I said. "My heart hears yours, still."
"You have my everlasting gratitude, Frau Mathews. I could not have asked or thought ... danke schön, danke schön, danke schön."
He took several minutes to compose himself, and then went on.
"I have been involved in doubling situations before ... did you know that the same bass used to have to sing both Commendatore and Masetto in Don Giovanni?"
"I have read that, yes."
"Do you know why that stopped?"
"I imagine that last costume change was tough -- that bass had to really go through it, and if he tripped, it was all over!"
He laughed.
"That, and there were enough basses to go around -- and there still are, Frau Mathews!"
"You're going to run a lesson in here on me, aren't you?" I said with a chuckle.
"Natürlich, Frau Mathews!" he purred, turning my chuckle into a laugh. "You wrote it for yourself, actually ... here you are riding on a mission of good into 2024, and although you will have battles to fight, and although you left so many behind in 2023, the people that you need, old and new, will be all be in front of you as you do as you are called to do! So, you can continue to rest and heal from last year and grow stronger in your joy and creative power, without fear."
"Keine angst; nur ruhe," I said, and he smiled.
"You have indeed listened well, Frau Mathews," he said. "Now, ride on into 2024, just like that. Is not that young British bass Matthew Rose amazing?"
"Haven't heard of him," I said.
"Do hear him, and remember Mr. Eric Hollaway my EXACT match in range whom you vetted and trusted enough to arrange for, and remember Mr. Alastair Miles -- is not his 'Verrat' amazing? -- and many more. You must have more voices in 2024, not less -- more music, not less. You have not even thought yet of what is around you in San Francisco, with its musicians, and how you might have an army of young singers to hear and vet and work with from its colleges and conservatories if you wanted them."
He was right. The thought had not even occurred to me until he said it.
"Which is why I said it, Frau Mathews. Last year, you were in terrible grief, yet even toward the end of last year, as you began to recover, I began to prepare you for what you are experiencing already. Your present offline circle ALREADY cannot contain you, for you are here, doing work you cannot do there -- and you are now literally straining Hive's limits as well. As you remember from my life story, I ever was, when at home, blessed by singing with those in my local community -- it made me very happy to do that. But my home circle could not contain me, Frau Mathews. It was not meant that it should be so.
"Ride forward -- gently, Frau Mathews, taking the time you need to take to feel fully healed -- but ride forward boldly, and practice on YouTube what your 2024 will provide for you. The year is yours, as are all those who are for you in it!"
As we arrived at my house, the sunset did wonders above us ...
Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 8, 2024
... and my companion presented me a wonder!
"I sang you the last evening song of 2023 ... now, I shall introduce that wonderful young bass Mr. Matthew Rose to sing you the first evening song of 2024 ... for in this earth, this year is his, and yours."
What a New Year's surprise -- what a lovely voice! Mr. Rose my peer instantly put himself in my top 5 basses, and I realized I might have to open up a top 10 ... and meanwhile, my No. 1 bass humbly made room, slipping around the corner and stepping up home before I knew that he had gone.