Vishtytis

(Vistytis, Lithuania)

54°27' / 24°43'

 

by Dr. Mendel Sudarski

Translated by Mindle Crystel Gross

 

A Town That Kaiser Wilhelm Helped to Rebuild

 

Scores of well-planned and beautifully laid-out Jewish towns developed along the entire length of the German-Lithuanian border and the German-Russian border. With friendliness and good humor, these towns observed their German neighbors across the border. During the working day a lifelong competition went on between the towns. Jews, Germans, Lithuanians, Poles, and Russians conducted business alongside one another and occasionally even socialized.

The town of Vishtinetz was pretty and idyllic. One side of the town was bordered by a large lake that stretched for miles, from Lithuania deep into Germany. On the other side, Vishtinetz was bordered by small hills covered by a thick, almost inpenetrable forest. The hills, to our childish eyes, looked like tall mountains.

The lake was a good meeting place for the German and Lithuanian fishermen (mostly Jews) as well as providing the perfect opportunity, during the previous Czarist rule, to row illegal immigrants to Germany from the Russian side and to bring illegal literature from Germany into Russia.

Vishtinetz was once a town of substantial size with a large religious Jewish community of landowners. The famous gaon [sage] Rabbi Khayeml Filipover Brash was a resident of Vishtinetz and was well known for his charity and for his greatness equally as a Talmud scholar and as a mensch [a human being, in the highest sense].

Vishtinetz was one of the oldest settlements in Lithuania. Because of its proximity to the German border, it was obvious that Vishtinetz would become a center of small industry. There were a number of pig-hair factories and tanneries, which employed approximately 200 workers.

The brush-workers had a hard time then. They worked 16 or more hours a day, with the majority of them having their dinner brought to the factory and some of them staying there overnight, resting on a sack of pukh [“down,”i.e. the soft part of the pig-hair] and sleeping. Thursday, or as it was called, “Green Thursday,” they worked through the entire night to compensate for Friday, when they left early because of the approaching Shabbos. The work week began again Saturday evening, right after havdala [ceremony ending Shabbos].

And yet the brush-workers were the first to introduce a worldliness into the Jewish life of the shtetl and to revolutionize the masses. Regardless of how strange it may seem now, the first book that awakened the consciousness of the workers was Mendele [Moikher Sforim]'s story “The Mare.” The sole copy of “The Mare” was passed from one group to another in secret since it had been banned, after all, and anyone caught with it would be arrested. I remember to this day how they led away the brush-worker Tanakhke Bunes, an honest and guileless worker thirsting for knowledge, to Vilkovishk, the district capital, for just such a serious mistake. This was the first disturbing incident that led to changes in the idyllic life of Vishtinetz.

It was difficult and troublesome to reach Vishtinetz from the Russian side, although it was only 21 verst away from Verzhbalove. Twenty-one verst are about 15 American miles. To travel this distance, however, often took the better part of the day and sometimes part of the night as well. The road was partly sandy, strewn with rocks and, in many places, so muddy that sometimes Vishtinetz was cut off from the rest of the world—no coming, no going—unless you took a long detour through Germany in order to reach the station at Verzhbalove. The only connection with the surrounding area was Moyshe the “Telegraph,” a young, strong man and army veteran, always happy, always making a joke and meeting every difficult situation with a smile. He rode to the train station every day, regardless of the weather, to post the mail, to bring merchandise back, and to transport passengers back and forth. He was called “Telegraph” because neither cold nor mud stopped him.

As time passed, Vishtinetz, like many other small towns, shrank in size. A portion of the younger generation, having gotten a whiff of the malevolent wind that blew from the German side, gradually left—some to South Africa and others to America where they established themselves in fine positions. Even Moyshe the Telegraph, in time, made his way to Canada where he died a couple of years ago. Several of the pig-hair factories (Itsele Sidorski's and Khaim Bertz's) relocated to Virbalin and Vilkovishk, and the tanneries closed. The large, beautiful synagogue became empty and nostalgia for its former worshippers enveloped the adjoining house of study.

Quiet and sad were the streets that had become overgrown with grass, and the hearty and resounding laughter of the children who had once played there so innocently was no longer heard. To make matters worse, Vishtinetz unexpectedly experienced a hellish fire at the end of a summer 49 years ago, which virtually decimated the greater portion of the town.

 

Photograph with caption: A solemn worship service in the Vishtinetz synagogue in honor of the coronation of Nikolai II (1895) with the participation of a town official and the police commissioner. From right to left can be seen among others: R' Nakhum Itseles (teacher); Aba Abelevitch; Moyshe Pavishanski, Cantor; Leyzer Volf, town-head (from Brody); Khana Lipman (teacher); Avraham-Motl Viklavishski, Rabbi; Fayvl the shokhet [Kosher slaughterer]; Mordekhay Pats; and Itsele Peretses (Rubinshteyn).

 

But an odd honor was visited upon Vishtinetz, an honor that memorialized the town in history, even though the  fire had partially wiped it off the face of the earth. On the other side of the lake, which culminated deep in Germany, was the large and beautiful estate Rume (?), hidden in a deep, virtually pristine forest. A magnificent palace stood there, with the entire surrounding area beautifully landscaped. The dense forest, the large lake—all of this was perfect for the Kaiser's yacht.

Every autumn, the Kaiser and his entire retinue arrived for the hunt. Here he could show off his prowess as a sharpshooter, that regardless of what target he aimed at, he would hit it. During this period of several weeks of free-spirited living at the expense of innocent animals, he would destroy a number of bears, hungry wolves and sometimes even lured a fox. But most importantly, he was an expert at frightened and shy deer. Afterwards, these dead animals were brought to Berlin with great ceremony and exhibited in the very center of the capital. The idiotic Germans hastened to gaze upon the slaughtered animals, which to them appeared to be such a wonder, and could not praise their Kaiser's skill highly enough.

Kaiser Wilhelm arrived in Vishtinetz for the hunt in the same year that the fire occurred. Learning that the pretty town located on the other side of the lake opposite his yacht had burned, his heart filled with pity, or maybe eagerness at seeing a burned-out Jewish town. One day he arrived in Vishtinetz with his retinue. It was Yom Kippur and there was no prior warning announcing his visit.

Wilhelm delighted in making such surprise visits and was well known for his sudden and unannounced appearances among the populace. Noticing the dead silence and the streets empty of people, he became downcast–what should he do?

Even when the head of the town informed him of the important and holy Jewish holiday, he remained perplexed, for after all, a Kaiser is not just any ordinary person, and certainly not Wilhelm, who had been “anointed by G-d”. He sent a messenger to the Jews in the synagogue and politely requested that they go to the market place as he had something important to discuss with them.

The Jews, upon hearing of this development—even those in a talis [prayer shawl] or kitl [white garment worn onYom Kippur] and boots—rushed to the market place. The Kaiser exhibited his majestic patience and waited until the very last elderly man arrived from the synagogue.

Then Wilhelm dismounted his horse, and in a friendly manner greeted the Jewish representative—the teacher of the kazioner elementary school, Dovid Robinson (father of Drs. Yaakov and Nehemiah Robinson, both of whom are in New York), greeted everyone with good wishes for the new year, apologized for disturbing their prayers and imposing upon them with his summons.

The Kaiser offered fine words of consolation to the frightened people and substantial aid for reviving the town. He offered 10,000 marks (at that time equal to 4,000 rubles). Later he convinced his friend Czar Nikolai II to contribute a similar amount (5,000 rubles). In addition, he promised to intercede with the Czar to forego the tax on all necessary building materials obtained from Germany.

Dr. Rabinov, who spoke German fluently, greeted Wilhelm and thanked him heartily in the name of the Jewish community. Wishing the Jews an easy fast and great restoration after the fire, Wilhelm bade a friendly goodbye to the startled and surprised Jews.

Their fast was certainly an easier one, and happy and enthusiastic after the unexpected event that they could hardly comprehend, they went to Neilah [closing service on Yom Kippur], praying with even more fervor and fire than usual, calling out lshana haba birushalayim [next year in Jerusalem].

This event was described in all the Russian and German newspapers, and the Gemans lauded the Kaiser for his fine and humane act.

As I tell you this story, it seems to me to be the product of fantasy, a wild dream containing within itself the terrible wrongs which the Jews suffered at the hands of the barbaric Hitler gangs, sons of the German people, descendants of Wilhelm, but it is a fact, and a fact filled with such sorrow. Kaiser Wilhelm should serve as a model of high morale and good deeds and yet, what a far cry from that time, that not-so-long ago past to the dark Hitler times.

Yet even the royal intervention of Kaiser Wilhelm could not help, although he did keep all of his promises. Missing was the strength and energy of the youth; there was not the needed impetus to rebuild the entire town. The mood of impoverishment was felt even more strongly.

After the Great War barely a minyan [ten men required for public prayer] of Jews remained in Vishtinetz and the town reverted entirely to the rule of the Lithuanians and the Lithuanian-Germans.

Now there is no one there who, at the very least, will remind the German Hitler-murderers of the “scandalous and law-breaking act” of their late Kaiser Wilhelm II. Certainly, they have noone who will listen, who will take this “unbelievable” story of their former leader—Kaiser Wilhelm—as an example.

Different times, different birds—and instead of the former chanting and prayer-

murmuring birds, there are new wild, black crows in Vishtinetz as a result of the slaughter which the Nazis, together with the Lithuanian murderers, carried out against

the town of Vishtinetz and which piece by piece, destroyed the tattered and tortured Jewish community.

 

http://www.jewishgen.org/Yizkor/lita/Lit1614.html

 

[Pages 1633-1644]

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