It is not known that the proud writer Gerhart Hauptmann (1862-1946) maintained an intimate relationship with Lower Bavaria. Regardless of this, many streets in the region between Landshut and Passau are named after him. Which in turn makes sense, because even during his lifetime Hauptmann was one of the classics of German literature. The author, who received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1912, was born in Silesia, lived there and died there. And yet there is an interesting trail that leads directly from Hauptmann to Lower Bavaria and is still being followed closely, especially in Poland.
The best expert on this story, which begins with Hauptmann’s cook Margarete Kappler, is 80-year-old Alfred Schwarzmaier, former mayor of the Tiefenbach community in the Passau district. Years ago, he summarized the results of his research into Hauptmann’s cook in a small book. “The subject of the captain was pretty far away for me when one day a colleague on the municipal council asked me about a woman who lived in Haselbach,” recalls Schwarzmaier. At that time, that village had been incorporated into the community of Tiefenbach and thus became more of a focus for Schwarzmaier. When he was mayor, he met this woman, who was called Margarete Heumader after her marriage, again and again, because she got involved in local club life. Little by little, Schwarzmaier found out that she had managed Hauptmann’s household and had seen him up close.
Gerhart Hauptmann received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1912.
(Photo: Alfred Schwarzmaier)
Margarete Kappler-Heumader lived from 1920 to 2010. The cook in Gerhart Hauptmann’s household is now considered an important contemporary witness.
(Photo: Barbara Christoph)
She told Schwarzmaier how, as a 16-year-old girl, she stood excitedly at the door of Hauptmann’s castle-like Wiesenstein house in Agnetendorf, which today belongs to Poland, to introduce herself. The reception hall made a tremendous impression, she said, and then suddenly the man with snow-white hair, whom the whole of Germany admired, stood in front of her. Hauptmann was skeptical. “I love the Silesian food very much,” said Hauptmann, “but now and then something else has to be prepared, do you dare?” You can learn that, she replied courageously, “we can try it!”
In the spring of 1937, Margarete Kappler began working at Haus Wiesenstein. She was 16, Hauptmann 75. And it worked, which of course came at a high price for her. “Wiesenstein was a splendid palace, but for me it was also an inescapable prison.” Nevertheless, she remained in the service of the master of the house until his death in 1946. She also accompanied the Hauptmanns on all their trips. Every year they also stayed for months on the Baltic Sea island of Hiddensee.
She was also there on Hauptmann’s last trip. It was a difficult time. The war was over, Silesia came under Polish administration. A letter of protection from a Soviet cultural officer made it possible for the captain to stay. However, the Polish government insisted on his resettlement. Then Hauptmann died. His coffin stayed in the death room for weeks. The Polish authorities did not allow a burial at home. Six weeks after his death, Hauptmann was transferred to Hiddensee, where he was buried on July 28, 1946.
The Hauptmann family and Margarete Kappler were not allowed to return to Agnetendorf. With the help of Hauptmann’s son Benvenuto, Kappler received permission to move to Oberhaselbach in Lower Bavaria. Stephan Billinger, who later became mayor of Passau, arranged for the family to live in the annex of his sisters’ farm.
Margarete took over the duties of housemaid again. After the Hauptmann family moved to Munich in 1951, they stayed in Haselbach, where they married Otto Heumader in 1952, who then died young. Margarete Heumader was very involved in the village, founded the Protestant women’s group, but also belonged to the Catholic women’s association. “But she never spoke of her closeness to Gerhart Hauptmann,” says Schwarzmeier.
Nevertheless, she was an important contemporary witness. Hauptmann was in many ways an ambivalent figure. The fact that he was considered the most important representative of German literature worldwide stems from his socio-critical dramas. But he often got caught up in contradictions. The Nazis banned some of his plays, but then put him on the list of irreplaceable artists. Hauptmann was quite receptive to their flattery.
After Hauptmann’s death, there was confusion about his estate. Although Benvenuto Hauptmann secured him, he did not reveal the hiding place. Later, at least parts of the estate were brought to the house built by the Heumade couple in 1959. Margaret Heumader’s daughter Barbara remembers the so-called captain’s room, in which crates, boxes and furniture were stored.
Schwarzmaier recently received a call from Hauptmann’s house in Agnetendorf, which is now a museum. Schwarzmaier was supposed to write an essay about Margarete Heumader, who died in 2010, for the Eichendorff books published there, which he was happy to do. Schwarzmaier’s text has just been published in the bilingual issue. It’s amazing, says Schwarzmaier, how interested Poland is in this topic. “It seems to me that the relationship between Germany and Poland is much more open at the lower bourgeois level than in high-level politics.”
Alfred Schwarzmaier: Meeting point: Oberhaselbach, Margarete Heumader and the Hauptmanns, 2012, Edition Töpfl