Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Title
Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Creator
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958
Identifier
WWP23090
Date
1920 April 25
Description
Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.
Source
Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler
Subject
Germany--History--1918-1933
Correspondence
Berlin, Germany
Contributor
Rachel Dark
Denise Montgomery
Language
English
Requires
PROOFREADING
Provenance
Evelina Suhler is the granddaughter of Jon Anthony Bouman and inherited the family collection of his letters from the years of World War I. She and her husband gave the letters to the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum in 2013.
Text
April 25th, 1920
Dearest;
Your letter of the 20th arrived on the 23rd so that was quicker transmission than what we have been used to; it must just have caught a post. I have not had an opportunity to go to the Central Hotel to ask about that other letter which you addressed there; the strike is only just over in the hotels, and it was useless to ask before. It was an extraordinary sight to see disconsolate hotel guests standing in the doorways discussing the situation; fortunately it was only a partial strike and our hotel was not affected, except at meal times when all the other floating population who could get no food elsewhere came trooping in. Some of the smaller, cheaper restaurants too have been raking in the shekels. Still it was not so bad as the general strike, when not only the hotel service but water and electricity were cut off.
Glad of the letter from the Babes. Yes, I suppose they liked the Selfridge ices; I have been having some occasionally here but they are always water ices, never cream, which doesn’t exist here. Lucky begs you! What is the use of having electric bell and light pushes inlaid with mother-of-pearl, when you can’t get milk in your tea? I have just been for my Sunday afternoon walk, as I work all the morning. I went a new way and suddenly came upon a FAIR, with roundabouts etc. all complete. OF course I had to have some shooting at a rifle range; they had a silly looking wooden parrot and if you hit the bullseye it fell off its perch. Which I did. Also a lion, and the other usual contraptions. It was not such a bright fair as the Dutch or French or Hampstead Heath everything being sadly in lack of paint. Of course oil is so scarce. That reminds me that Van der Bergh, the magazine man, has bought a splendid mansion here. He knows – he knows—he knows! At the fair there was also a hoop-la, they call it hopp-hopp here. At the other end of the park I had some alleged tea and something disguised as cake – butter cake they call it – ye gods! Then it came on to rain very heavily and I took a tram back; I had no umbrella, so I am drying myself as I write. What was worse, I had forgotten my pipe. I smoke Waverly mixture from the English canteen here, to which I have no right, but there are ways and channels.
There isn’t much real news here, except the alarums and excursions that are part of everyday life and sometimes we get fearfully excited about things that turn out to be nothing at all. Next week I expect I shall go on night work, and have time of my own to see pictures or a show, or go to a concert – I hope. Moyston was to be off tomorrow to Upper Silesia where the plebiscite is to be, but a telegram came late last night saying he had to get to Copenhagen and try to get into Russia which meant another chase around for Moyston to get passports visaed &c. The Manchester Guardian a week or so ago had a large reproduction of a safe conduct given to Moyston and The Manchester Guardian man who went to see the robber chieftan Hoelz in his lair, Falkenstein in Saxony, and there was a long story about him in that paper. Now the government troops have closed in upon his stronghold, but he dashed out into Bohemia where he was caught and put into jail. It is quite like a medieval story about robber barons and how they used to hold up wealthy people. Hoelz has been doing the same, only he is not a baron, but just a devil-may-care adventurer.
The general elections here are fixed for June 6 and the new Reichstag assembles July 6th a month later, I don’t know whether I am expected to remain here for those events and all the news connected with them; it will depend, I imagine, upon Powers or someone else coming here; even now we are short staffed. We hear nothing from either London or New York about future arrangements, but I suppose it will settle itself some time or other, some way.
I shall be interested to hear about Bill’s school report. Have you seen the headmaster of the other school at all? Also did you remember about having that jacket of mine turned? However, there is no hurry about that – I am afraid I shall be let in for a new suit if I am staying here much longer. Good suits can be had here, but they are not cheaper than in London; the price to a German would be pound 120, or at present values, pound 10 to us, but then it would be good material and well cut. I am postponing the evil day as long as possible.
You may think this good paper, but it is not for regular use in the hotel here; it is old stock that Enderis put away and we use it sparingly. One has to buy paper and envelopes, and matches are of course never put on the table now, nor is mustard, which is also scarce and very poor stuff. These are only a few of the things that are lacking and that we never gave a thought to in peace time.
I will finish here like Betty:-- “it is close on dinner time, so I had better stop.”
By the way, let me know how the poor old folks are getting on in N/C when you hear from Eva. I am sorry they should be bothered about the high cost of living, but perhaps you took mother’s letter too tragically. I am sure they would not let them lack for the necessaries – Arthur & Eva and the uncles I mean. As for Ethel’s lack of sympathy – of course that is hopeless.
Goodbye, all, dears, for the present. Much love from
The Daddyman.
Dearest;
Your letter of the 20th arrived on the 23rd so that was quicker transmission than what we have been used to; it must just have caught a post. I have not had an opportunity to go to the Central Hotel to ask about that other letter which you addressed there; the strike is only just over in the hotels, and it was useless to ask before. It was an extraordinary sight to see disconsolate hotel guests standing in the doorways discussing the situation; fortunately it was only a partial strike and our hotel was not affected, except at meal times when all the other floating population who could get no food elsewhere came trooping in. Some of the smaller, cheaper restaurants too have been raking in the shekels. Still it was not so bad as the general strike, when not only the hotel service but water and electricity were cut off.
Glad of the letter from the Babes. Yes, I suppose they liked the Selfridge ices; I have been having some occasionally here but they are always water ices, never cream, which doesn’t exist here. Lucky begs you! What is the use of having electric bell and light pushes inlaid with mother-of-pearl, when you can’t get milk in your tea? I have just been for my Sunday afternoon walk, as I work all the morning. I went a new way and suddenly came upon a FAIR, with roundabouts etc. all complete. OF course I had to have some shooting at a rifle range; they had a silly looking wooden parrot and if you hit the bullseye it fell off its perch. Which I did. Also a lion, and the other usual contraptions. It was not such a bright fair as the Dutch or French or Hampstead Heath everything being sadly in lack of paint. Of course oil is so scarce. That reminds me that Van der Bergh, the magazine man, has bought a splendid mansion here. He knows – he knows—he knows! At the fair there was also a hoop-la, they call it hopp-hopp here. At the other end of the park I had some alleged tea and something disguised as cake – butter cake they call it – ye gods! Then it came on to rain very heavily and I took a tram back; I had no umbrella, so I am drying myself as I write. What was worse, I had forgotten my pipe. I smoke Waverly mixture from the English canteen here, to which I have no right, but there are ways and channels.
There isn’t much real news here, except the alarums and excursions that are part of everyday life and sometimes we get fearfully excited about things that turn out to be nothing at all. Next week I expect I shall go on night work, and have time of my own to see pictures or a show, or go to a concert – I hope. Moyston was to be off tomorrow to Upper Silesia where the plebiscite is to be, but a telegram came late last night saying he had to get to Copenhagen and try to get into Russia which meant another chase around for Moyston to get passports visaed &c. The Manchester Guardian a week or so ago had a large reproduction of a safe conduct given to Moyston and The Manchester Guardian man who went to see the robber chieftan Hoelz in his lair, Falkenstein in Saxony, and there was a long story about him in that paper. Now the government troops have closed in upon his stronghold, but he dashed out into Bohemia where he was caught and put into jail. It is quite like a medieval story about robber barons and how they used to hold up wealthy people. Hoelz has been doing the same, only he is not a baron, but just a devil-may-care adventurer.
The general elections here are fixed for June 6 and the new Reichstag assembles July 6th a month later, I don’t know whether I am expected to remain here for those events and all the news connected with them; it will depend, I imagine, upon Powers or someone else coming here; even now we are short staffed. We hear nothing from either London or New York about future arrangements, but I suppose it will settle itself some time or other, some way.
I shall be interested to hear about Bill’s school report. Have you seen the headmaster of the other school at all? Also did you remember about having that jacket of mine turned? However, there is no hurry about that – I am afraid I shall be let in for a new suit if I am staying here much longer. Good suits can be had here, but they are not cheaper than in London; the price to a German would be pound 120, or at present values, pound 10 to us, but then it would be good material and well cut. I am postponing the evil day as long as possible.
You may think this good paper, but it is not for regular use in the hotel here; it is old stock that Enderis put away and we use it sparingly. One has to buy paper and envelopes, and matches are of course never put on the table now, nor is mustard, which is also scarce and very poor stuff. These are only a few of the things that are lacking and that we never gave a thought to in peace time.
I will finish here like Betty:-- “it is close on dinner time, so I had better stop.”
By the way, let me know how the poor old folks are getting on in N/C when you hear from Eva. I am sorry they should be bothered about the high cost of living, but perhaps you took mother’s letter too tragically. I am sure they would not let them lack for the necessaries – Arthur & Eva and the uncles I mean. As for Ethel’s lack of sympathy – of course that is hopeless.
Goodbye, all, dears, for the present. Much love from
The Daddyman.
Original Format
Letter
To
Bouman Family
Files
Collection
Citation
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958, “Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family,” 1920 April 25, WWP23090, Jon Anthony Bouman Collection, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.