Thomas Makytta could still remember the heartache this move had caused Mendel's family. His father was in debt, was paying off a loan that he had taken to build his house, and worked three days a week for his landlord, this being an obligation in the feudal Habsburg Empire. To supplement his cash income, Anton Mendel used his team of horses, unique in his village at that time, to cart lime from a nearby kiln. But, even so, there was little money left over to educate their son in distant Opava. An ever-hungry Johann could only be offered half-board and his bed, but his mother regularly sent him produce from the farm. Mendel would only see his family, and his two teachers, on holidays when he would make the laborious 36 kilometer journey back to Heinzendorf.
At the end of each term, the rapidly maturing Mendel would bring home his grades, and proudly show his family the excellent results he was obtaining in subjects such as meteorology and philosophy. This partially reassured Anton and supported his hard decision to educate Johann, for, by now, he had almost given up the idea of his son every taking over the farm. It also made it easier for Johann to give lessons to his less gifted school friends, and so supplement his very meager existence.
Young Mendel spent six years in Opava, under less than idea conditions. When, towards the end, things got worse. Makytta vividly remembered the series of disasters that struck Heinzendorf and the Mendel family when Johann was only sixteen. Bad harvests left Anton completely unable to support his son and the only way Mendel could continue his education was if he provided for himself. Fortunately he was able to take a course for School Candidates and Private Teachers, pass an examination and get a strong recommendation. So, for the rest of his time in Opava, Mendel earned a pitiful living as a private tutor.
Just before he graduated from the Gymnasium, the load on young Johann's shoulders became heavier. Working in his landlord's forest, Anton Mendel suffered a serious injury and at Whitsuntide summoned his son home for the rest of the year. Even so, Mendel finished at the Opava Gymnasium, and graduated in 1840.
Although he desperately wanted to continue his education, and indeed registered for classes at the Philosophy Institute in Olomouc, he could not find a means to support himself and he fell sick. Father Schreiber helped him return home and 18 year old Johann spent the next year recovering his health on the family farm. It was during this time that Makytta frequently saw the village priest and the serious student working together in the fruit-tree nursery.
Countess Truchsess-Zeil wanted to improve the stamina and the yield of the fruit trees grown by her villagers, but centuries of tradition had prevented the local farmers from accepting the new fangled varieties she had obtained from France. Father Schreiber, knowing his parishioners well, had issued orders, in the name of the Countess, that the new fruit-tree seedlings were to be strictly guarded and that anyone caught stealing them would be severely punished. Within a few days, all the seedlings had vanished and the villagers grew them and their descendants for many years - with greatly improved results.
After a year at home, and with his health restored, Mendel continued his studies in the natural sciences at the Philosophical Institute at Olomouc. He needed two years of preparation in 'philosophical study' before he could enter any University in the Habsburg Empire, and by now Mendel knew that he wanted to go to University more than anything.
There were, however, two major problems; his father was no longer able to work, because of the old injury, and Mendel could speak no Czech. Olomouc was a town were Czech was the dominant language, and his deficiency made it almost impossible for him to teach and so earn a living. Once again he was destitute and unable to pay for the next phase of his education.
Fortunately his elder sister had just married and the newly weds agreed to take over the family farm. As part of the agreement, Johann was given a 100 florins a year to continue his studies. Secretly his youngest sister also helped by offering him part of her dowry, an act of kindness Mendel was able to repay many years later when he supported all her three sons during their studies. Despite the generosity of his family, Mendel still had to teach for extra money, attend twenty hours of classes in a range of subjects, study and meet regularly with his tutors. Over the next two years the strain steadily became too much.
Fortunately he had a talent for the study of physics. Professor Franz, who taught this subject, liked Mendel and looked for ways of helping him. Once, while working in Brno, Franz had stayed at the Augustinian monastery of Saint Thomas, and had been asked by the new and vigorous Abbot Cyrill Napp to keep an eye open for bright young students. In a letter dated July 14th, 1843, Franz recommended only one student; Johann Mendel.
Following Franz's advice, Mendel finished his philosophical studies at Olomouc University and applied for admission as a novice in the Augustinian Monastery in Brno. The year was 1843. Financial worries had plagued him throughout his academic career, circumstances he could no longer fight now directed his vocational choice. So long as he fulfilled his clerical duties, the life of a monk at this particular monastery, would offer him the rare opportunity to devote himself to private study in a supportive atmosphere. He applied.
Out of thirteen candidates, Mendel was shortlisted as one four for the novitiate, and, despite his weakness in the Czech language, recieved strong recomendations. On September 7th, 1843, without even coming for the traditional interview, he was accepted into the Brno Monastery and on October 9th began both his novitiate and his new name - Gregor. The years of bitter struggle were behind him and he was now free him to continue his first love - science.
Thomas Makytta's reminiscences were cut short by a flurry of activity at the doorway. A burst of cold air announced new arrivals.
"Brother Gregory, Abbot Napp so good of you to come," Secretary Dr Schwippel hurried up to his guests. Makytta turned towards the voice. "Welcome, welcome," hurried on the Secretary, anxiously bobbing up and down. Abbot Napp was a well known and influential figure in Brno; his good opinion was vital to the natural history teacher. Also, it was hard to get speakers for the Society, especially in the middle of a harsh winter. "Come, warm up by the stove."
Accompanied by the Secretary, the small group of men moved a little closer to the radiant heat, but none of them took off their outer garments. Makytta got his first look at Mendel in many years and what he saw came as a bit of a shock. His old pupil was now a man of middle age and medium height with broad-shoulders and a stocky build. At 43 the monk was already becoming a little corpulent, but his large head and high forehead bespoke of a ready intelligence. Around his blue eyes Mendel wore thin, gold rimmed glasses and his mouth frequently broke into warm smiles. A friendly expression was never far from Mendel's face.
Brother Matthew saw Makytta's surprise and quickly guessed it's source.
"You expected a monk, did you not?" he said with a grin.
"Ahh, well, yes," the schoolteacher could not help admitting and shook his head. What he saw did not fit his expectations in the least. Unlike Brother Matthew and the Abbot, Brother Gregory was not wearing traditional priests' clerical robes, but a well worn frock-coat at least one size too big for him. Under the coat he had short trousers tucked into scuffed top-boots, making him look more like a shopkeeper than a member of a religious order.
"Thanks to Emperor Josef II," explained Brother Matthew, "our monks are obliged to serve the state as well as god. Since the great closings in 1782, when most of the monasteries were abolished, we have been required to help in parishes, hospitals and schools. Our Augustinian monastery was not dissolved, but it was moved to its present location, and, in 1807 Emperor Franz I, required us to teach mathematics and biblical studies in the Philosophy Institute and Brno theology college."
He saw that the schoolteacher was not following his reasoning, so he hurried on, "It's a long story, but, simply put, Brother Gregory is one of those that teaches classes here at the Realschule. When he is engaged in his non-religious duties he is allowed to wear civilian clothing."
"Ah," smiled Makytta, then to cover his embarrassment, "who is that standing beside him?"
Brother Matthew needed no prompting to impart more information and gossip. "That's our Abbot," he said affectionately, "a noble and true friend to God and science, to say nothing of his love of the monastery and his monks." He coughed. "If it was not for this man, I would not still be in the monastery. Such a soul. He will go straight to heaven."
Makytta peered at the subject of this veneration. What he saw was a round monk, somewhat shorter than Mendel, but well dressed in plain robes with a bright sash around his middle. A simple silver cross hung around his neck. But it was the face that Makytta told the whole story. Here was a man who had used his broad knowledge of the world to good effect. A practical man with considerable organizational skills who had accepted with considerable enthusiasm the imperial directive for his monks to teach. Although forbidden to enter a classroom himself, he had recruited monks with ability, helped train and further their education, and then used all his influence to place them in the best schools and better locations.
"So good of you to come out on a night like this," continued the Secretary, his voice raising to almost a squeak, "we are all looking forward to your talk, Brother Gregory. About beans, isn't it?"
Brother Gregory coughed. "Peas," he said quietly.
"Oh yes, of course, peas," replied the Secretary, twisting his hands and avoiding looking into his guest's face. "Yes, peas."