The Hinterkaifeck farm was no exception.
In 1885, when the issue of succession to the farm was being decided, the documents were drawn up in the name of Cäzilia Senior. This was in accordance with a long tradition common in Bavarian peasant families: land, as a rule, was inherited along the female line. This rule existed not because of feminist beliefs, but for pragmatic reasons. It was believed that women were more attached to the land, to the hearth, and therefore would be better able to preserve the integrity of the farm, without dividing it among numerous male heirs.
However, after the marriage of Cäzilia Senior in 1886, her husband Andreas Gruber naturally became a co-owner of the farm. This was quite common. The husband, entering into marriage, took on obligations to manage the farm, help his wife in managing the land, and provide for the family. In return, he received the right to a share of the profits, the right to vote when making important decisions concerning the farm, and, importantly, a certain social status.
Andreas Gruber was a co-owner of the Hinterkaifeck farm for almost thirty years, until 1914. During this time, he undoubtedly played a significant role in the development of the farm, making decisions, participating in field work, and interacting with local residents.
However, working on the farm was never easy, and sometimes even a strong peasant family needed help from outside. This was especially true during periods of sowing and harvesting. At such moments, it was almost impossible to do without hired workers.
In those days, many were looking for work, but not everyone was willing to put up with the bad character of Andreas Gruber. The Hinterkaifeck farm had a bad reputation, and therefore hired workers did not stay here long. They appeared only for the season to do the hardest work, and then hurried to leave this troubled place.
In the cold season, when the main field work ended, the need for seasonal workers disappeared. Family members coped with current affairs on their own. The only exception was the maid. Cäzilia, due to her age and illness, could no longer cope with all household duties, so a woman who helped around the house lived on the farm permanently.
After 1914, sole ownership passed to their daughter Viktoria. By that time, Viktoria was already 35 years old. Viktoria Gruber, whose fate could already be called difficult, was officially considered the owner.
Viktoria, a girl, as she was described, modest and pretty, was forced to bear the burden of her father Andreas’s bad reputation. The residents of the surrounding area perceived her primarily as the owner of the land, a «rich heiress.» Unfortunately, this often attracted not the most honest people to her.
In April 1914, Viktoria Gruber, the daughter of the owners of the Hinterkaifeck farm, Andreas and Cäzilia, married the farmer Klaus Briel.
And although at first glance this seemed like an ordinary union, many in the village whispered that Klaus was guided more by selfish motives. Perhaps he hoped to improve his shaky financial situation by marrying the daughter of wealthy farmers. Unfortunately, such marriages of convenience were not uncommon in those days, especially in rural areas, where land and wealth were of great importance.
A month before the wedding, as if foreseeing trouble, Viktoria’s parents made an important decision. They transferred ownership of most of their property to their daughter. Perhaps this step was dictated by concern for Viktoria’s future, a desire to provide her with at least some protection in case of unforeseen circumstances. Thus, after the conclusion of the marriage, three-quarters of Hinterkaifeck officially passed into the possession of Viktoria, and the remaining quarter went to Klaus, her husband.
Driven, probably, by a sincere desire to create a strong family and contribute to the common cause, Klaus embraced his new status with enthusiasm. He moved to his wife’s house, the Hinterkaifeck farm, and, rolling up his sleeves, began working for the benefit of the farmstead. He worked hard in the field, helped around the house, trying to prove his worth and usefulness. He probably wanted to earn the respect of Victoria and her parents, to become a full member of the Gruber family. He naively believed that hard work and dedication would help him win their hearts and create a solid foundation for a future marriage. He did not yet know that the real reason for the problems lay not in his lack of hard work, but in the dark secrets hidden within the walls of the Hinterkaifeck farm.
In the village, Victoria and Klaus’s marriage was talked about little, and even then in whispers, as if afraid to scare away the already fragile semblance of family happiness.
«Victoria is certainly a striking woman, but Klaus, it seems to me, needed a housekeeper, not a wife out of love,» gossiped old Frau Schmidt, sitting on the porch and shelling sunflower seeds. Others, more observant, noticed: «I saw them at the fair once. They walked side by side like strangers. They didn’t exchange a word, didn’t exchange a glance.» There were also whispers that Klaus had long refused this marriage. «Poor Victoria! She thought she would find support in Klaus, but he only loves her land,» compassionate Gretchen sympathized with her.
All these whispers and gossip added up to a depressing picture, like barbed wire entangling the Gruber house. No one spoke about it openly, but everyone felt that there was a chasm between Victoria and Klaus. «Klaus needed the farm, not a wife,» they said furtively. Sympathy for Victoria mixed with disdain for Klaus, and the overall atmosphere was more like a pre-storm silence than a family hearth. And even the most pessimistic residents of Hinterkaifeck understood that this marriage would not end well.
Just a few agonizing weeks after the wedding, Klaus Briel, as if feeling like a prisoner in a golden cage, to the surprise and gossip of all Hinterkaifeck, suddenly left the farm and returned to his parents in the modest village of Lak in the Neuburg-Schrobenhausen district. Officially, the reason for his departure was never announced, shrouded in vague hints and omissions. However, behind the veil of silence, passions were boiling and versions were multiplying.
Some whispered that the reason was the unbearable atmosphere in the Gruber household, where the stern and authoritarian Andreas, Victoria’s father, kept all the household members under his thumb, and Klaus, accustomed to more freedom, felt oppressed and humiliated. Others claimed that the reason was a banal conflict with Victoria, whose views on life and farming turned out to be completely incompatible with his own.
It was said that their marriage cracked almost immediately, like ice under the spring sun. Quarrels between Victoria and Klaus shook the silence of Hinterkaifeck, some heard cries even beyond the outskirts. «Victoria was wailing like for the dead,» whispered old widow Seiler, who lived next door, «and Klaus was growling like a beast in a cage.»
The few witnesses to these quarrels noticed in Victoria’s eyes not only tears of resentment and disappointment, but also some hidden fear, as if she was afraid not only of her husband, but of something more. And in Klaus’s eyes, there was not just irritation, but open disgust, as if Victoria was not a wife to him, but a burden. «You can see he didn’t marry her for love,» Frau Miller shook her head, «but only because of the land. And now he’s taking out his anger.»
Others added that they had seen Klaus leaving for the forest after quarrels and wandering there for a long time, as if seeking solace in solitude. But what he was really looking for remained only to be guessed.»
There was also a third version, the dirtiest and most indecent, which was spoken about in hushed tones, behind tightly closed shutters. It concerned Andreas and his relationship with his daughter, Victoria. It was whispered that there was a connection between father and daughter that made the blood run cold, going far beyond ordinary family feelings. «He’s awfully affectionate with her, the old tomcat,» said one compassionate neighbor, spitting over her shoulder. «He looks into her eyes like she’s a young maiden.»
Rumor had it that Klaus, feeling superfluous and unwanted in this perverse triangle, preferred to flee rather than witness an unhealthy attachment. It was said that he was often away from home, supposedly earning money, but in reality, he simply couldn’t bear the atmosphere that reigned on the farm.
But