The Russians lit huge fires in the monastery courtyard and drank the communion wine, and whatever they didn’t drink, they poured out onto the cobblestones until these were red, as though drenched in blood. They looted the library and the treasury, destroyed the powder magazine and many weapons. They blew up the gate. From the walls of the monastery, we could see the smoke of the surrounding villages going up in flames.
Yet to my astonishment, Jacob’s spirits were not dampened by this situation. On the contrary: this chaos was giving him strength. The frenzy of wartime was exciting him. He would go out to those Russians and converse with them. They feared him, as Hana’s death had changed him greatly—he was now terribly thin, with dark circles under his eyes, and the features of his face had sharpened, and his hair had gone gray. Someone who hadn’t seen him in a long time might have said it was a different person. It is also true that he interceded with the Russians on behalf of the Pauline Fathers, and they were freed from their refectory prison.
Several days later, General Bibikov came to the monastery. He entered on horseback through the actual door to the chapel, and from his horse he assured the prior that nothing bad would happen to them under Russian rule. That very same evening we went with Jacob to ask the Russian general for an exceptional release from prison. I thought I would be needed to translate into Russian, but they spoke in German. Bibikov was exceedingly polite, and within two days, Jacob had received official permission to leave the monastery.
Jacob, our Lord, says:
“Everyone who seeks salvation must do three things: change his place of residence, change his name, and change his deeds.”
And so we did. We became other people, and we left Cz?stochowa, at once the lightest and the darkest place.
VI.
The Book of
THE DISTANT COUNTRY
26.
Yente reads passports
Yente sees the passports that are shown at the border. A gloved officer takes them gently, leaves the travelers in their carriage so he can read the passports in peace in the guardhouse. The travelers keep silent. The gloved officer reads in a murmur:
Karol Emeryk, Baron von Revisnye, chamberlain of the Roman, in the German, Hungarian, and Czech lands, Royal Apostolic Majesty, active ambassador and attested minister at the royal court of Poland, hereby makes it known that the bearer of this document, Mr. Joseph Frank, a merchant, along with his service, being composed of eighteen people, in two carriages, travels on business interests from here to Brünn in Moravia, and so all authorities to whom the power to do so belongs are called upon to put no obstacles before the aforementioned Joseph Frank and the servants with whom he voyages—of whom there are to be eighteen—nor to prevent them from crossing any border, and should the need arise to provide him with the appropriate assistance. Given in Warsaw, the 5th of March, 1773.
Besides this Austrian passport, there is also a Prussian one, and Yente sees it very clearly; it is written in beautiful penmanship, authenticated by a great seal:
The bearer of this document, the merchant Mr. Joseph Frank, having arrived here from Cz?stochowa, now makes his way, after an eight-day stay in Warsaw, with eighteen persons in his service, in two carriages, through Cz?stochowa to Moravia, on private business. Since here the air is everywhere clean and healthy, and thank God there is no trace of plague . . .
Yente looks closely at this German formulation: “und von ansteckender Seuche ist Gottlob nichts zu spüren . . .”
. . . and all authorities, military and civil, are hereby requested to permit the aforementioned merchant, along with his people and carriages, to cross the border without hindrance, following the appropriate verification, and continue on his way. Warsaw, 1st of March, 1773. Gédéon Beno?t, His Royal Highness’s ambassador residing in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.
Yente understands from this that behind passports lurks the great cosmos of the state apparatus, with its solar systems, orbits, satellites, with the phenomenon of the comet and the mysterious force of gravity described not long ago by Newton. It is a sensitive and vigilant system, propelled by hundreds or thousands of clerical desks and piles of papers that are propagated through the caress of the sharp ends of geese feathers and passed from hand to hand, from desk to desk; sheets of paper create a slight motion of the air that might be imperceptible compared with autumn winds, yet significant on a world scale. Maybe somewhere far away, in Africa or in Alaska, this motion could whip up a hurricane. The state is the perfect usurper, an uncompromising ruler, an order established once and for all (until it’s cleared away by the next war). Who traced the border through this thorny steppe? Who forbids people from crossing it? In whose name is this suspicious gloved officer operating, and whence comes his suspicion? What is the purpose of papers borne by letter carriers and envoys, by mail carriages for which at every station exhausted horses trade places? Correspondence from Warsaw to Vienna and back takes ten days.
Jacob’s retinue is made up of the young; the old stayed behind in Warsaw, where they wait, attending to the newly started businesses. The children have been sent to the Piarists; they live on Nowe Miasto and go to church each Sunday. The neophytes, after shaving their beards, blend into the crowd on the muddy streets of the capital. Sometimes you can catch a slight Yiddish accent, but that, too, disappears like snow.
Jacob, covered in furs, travels in the first carriage with Avacha, whom he sometimes calls Eva now. She is flushed from the cold, and her father keeps covering her again with the fur throw. She holds Rutka, the dog, on her lap, and the dog whimpers dolefully from time to time. Eva could not be convinced to leave her in Warsaw. Opposite sits J?drzej Yeruhim Dembowski, who has now been made the Lord’s secretary, as Jakubowski and his wife are busy with the Lord’s sons in Warsaw. Next to Dembowski is Mateusz Matuszewski. Traveling on horseback: Kazimierz the cook with his two helpers, Joseph Nakulnicki and Franciszek Bodowski, and also Ignacy Cesirajski, to whom Jacob took a particular liking in Cz?stochowa as his own helper.