Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958

WWP23039

1919 May 14

Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.

Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler

Correspondence

Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920)

Rachel Dark

Denise Montgomery

Austin Shifflett

English

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.

My dearest,

    I have put off writing as I expected another letter to come from you about my naturalization business; this came this morning, so I have two letters to acknowledge. I should have thought Flowerdews’s could have traced my case quite easily and if there had been a hitch of some kind, they could have said: "We have done this and that, but have had no further advice from the Home office”, or something of that sort.

    I had a letter from New York the other day, confirming what I knew, that my Paris work would cease after the signing of peace, so the sooner they sign, the sooner I shall be back with you in London. Therefore, as my Dutch passport has run out, I want to do all I can to avoid passport delays at the last moment. You know how long these things take, and it would be very galling to have to remain here just because my passport wasn’t ready. I will give Flowerdew another week to find out and unless I hear to the contrary, shall conclude that I had better get my Dutch papers renewed.

    Here is a bill of Jones Bros, I don’t quite understand except the first item 15s/- due April 16th that is of course the monthly rent, and the other 3/-and 4/- may be for the extra boxes. I send this bill to you as you may have to pay the storage on delivery of our furniture up to an uncertain date. Then you let me know and I will include the amount in your cheque. Don’t attempt to do too much when you are getting the furniture in; I hope you will get adequate help, and that everything will go off smoothly.

    We too have tumbled right into the summer all of a sudden, and Paris is looking its best; Champs Elysees, Tuileries Gardens are beautiful with chestnuts and lilacs, and the famous open air restaurants make the place look very gay in the evening. It was a perfect morning last Sunday when I walked back to my hotel at 6 a.m. Only the concierge people were about, and they all keep canary birds, and they were all singing away as loudly as they could – what a difference compared to the Saturday night job in London; I was always glad when that beastly drag through Camden Town and Kentish Town was over. There is never that ghastly air of sordid ugliness about Paris.

    How amusing about the Grundys! Truly they are more Grundyesque than ever; they do seem to throw money about for small comfort – of course if he has it, it is his affair how he spends it. I never hear of such an extraordinary trick to get a house, how uncomfortable it must be to feel that both landlord and former tenant are against them being there!

    So Bill’s trouble is only ordinary slight short sight, you say. That sounds very different from the extremely defective vision according to the school people. Another example of the prevailing vice of the time – exaggeration; sometimes innocuous because prompted by mere vanity or bumptiousness or wish to appear “interfering” – at other times extremely dangerous. Looking around, me finds all shades of willful exaggerations from innocent banter down to damned hard lying. The longer I live, the more I despise mankind.

    Suppose we were both abroad and mails held up and we got a report about extremely defective vision, we might well be alarmed thinking the child might be going blind. These people ought to reflect before putting such things on paper, and I conclude they are the same damned fools as the rest of them.

    Having thus relieved my mind, I want to tell you about a very fine picture exhibition at the Petit Palais: The Spanish school – to which I am rather partial, chiefly I think because of its exotic attraction—plenty of Goyas, and other artists of note. Then there is also an Italian and a Yugoslav section to it. The latter is of the rugged kind, and the subjects somber, as coming from a nation struggling out of its centuries-old bonds. It only cost 1 franc to go in, and it is a feast; how I wish you could see it. I think I shall go again, and it is not often I want to see a picture collection twice.

    I think I forgot to tell the children that I saw a great rowing match on the Seine between French, American and New Zealanders; the latter won. It was on a Sunday, blowing a gale and coming on to rain in torrents, and very cold – I think it was last Sunday week. But today it is quite hot and I have discarded my overcoat; I don’t know where to stow my sugarbox now, I have no room for it and so I carry lumps of sugar in my waistcoat pocket.

    Last Friday I went among the Chinese who were having a meeting to protest against the imperialistic policy of Japan. That was quite interesting too; I listened to a little Chinese suffragette! who was being very emphatic in funny French, but she had got plenty of spirit.

    All the nations on God’s earth are bombarding us with propaganda; they all want to tell us about their grievances and their aspirations. Some have a very telling way of bringing their arguments before us, because what they want is publicity before all. All sorts of leaflets, cards, maps, charts, booklets, books, volumes, and ponderous tomes rain down upon this office every day. Today comes a prodigious mass of stuff from the Georgian republic and what they want. This evening in envelopes of elephantine size came the arguments of the Koreans who want to get rid of the Japanese yoke. As for the Fiume question, I don’t know who are the bigger liars, the Yugoslavs or the Italians. They both accuse each other of what Winston Churchill would call terminological inexactitude.

    People seem to think that peace will be signed the first week in June, so that I would probably be able to leave about the end of that month for the “home sweet”. I have no summer underclothes here, so shall have to buy some, I’m afraid.

    Have you thought of anything for Bill yet? I don’t seem to get any ideas from looking at the shops for the poor young eselsveulen. As for you and the girls – its only an embarrassment of choice, and I wish I had a lot more money to spend on you. I would love to deck you all out in some of the choice things that are shown here – but prices! Oh la la!

    However, you are all provided for, but Bill. Do make a suggestion!

Letter

Bouman Family