Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Title
Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Creator
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958
Identifier
WWP23086
Date
1920 April 4
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
Hotel Adlon
Unter der Linden
Berlin, Easter Sunday
afternoon 4/4
Dearest;
I have heard nothing from you since my first letter a fortnight ago; perhaps this is not surprising as I don’t know how long letters take nowadays to England or from England; one man says one thing and another something different. I hope all is well with you and if the weather is as fine in London is as it is here, there is certainly no cause for grumbling. It has been simply glorious this fortnight, and the holidays equally so. All Berlin is out today in the parks quietly enjoying the balmy air and the sunshine. I have just had a walk on my own around to the telegraphy office with some messages and am writing this in my own room at the hotel.
Last Tuesday I attended a session of the National Assembly for the first tie; I have a permanent gallery ticket. Previously I had only been in the Reichstag building at committee meetings. The different orators were just slanging away at their opposing parties ; now and then a woman yelled in between . As I said before, there are about 30 of them; one of them reminded me of Tante Mie. They are mostly dressed in dingy blouses and ditto skirts; some sit together; others in between the menfolk. The smartest one (she sat among the conservatives) had a sort of black net overdress, but Lady Astor has beaten them all hollow. None of them wear hats; and all look intensely earnest, worn and haggard. Well they might, because life must be very hard for all of them. The men are also far from prepossessing, and their clothes are generally misfits. Which reminds me of a dreadful discovery, my (Hague) suit, or rather the Greeks, are are wearing very thin and a hole has made its appearance, so that I am much afraid I shall be let in for another suit, if I remain here much longer. I was also caught short of collars and had to buy 3, at 15 marks apiece, however that is only about 1s/- but the only kind the best hosiers shop had bore the mark “Kronprinz”; I am afraid I shall have to lose them conveniently when I get back to London; it’s no good keeping them for Bill, eh? By the way, tell Bill that those Germans polish my boots beautifully like patent leather so when I get back he will have to put some more blacking on.
People do take it out of the foreigners here; those who have been travelling about the country tell me that an extra charge of 200% (!)is made on their hotel bills. Everything has to be locked up tight in hotel rooms; Conger has had his coat, typewriter and camera stolen while he had left his room for 10 minutes, and I have lost my pants, luckily the old mended ones, which means I shall have to buy a pair, costing 140 marks; luckily only about 10s/- English. Simply vanished! No trace. So I lock up everything, books &c. which it would be simply tempting providence to leave about.
In Berlin all is quiet now, but there is still desultory fighting and marauding bands going about the country. Moyston is leaving tomorrow for Copenhagen, where a general strike is threatening, and Conger is going with him (for the Philadelphia Ledger) otherwise the same gang of American and English journalists remain at the hotel. Wilcox I see every morning in the lobby smoking his pipe and reading the papers. I am told his articles are much appreciated in the D.T. The situation is still very confused, and even more difficult to follow than under the old regime. Every party is struggling for the mastery, and what will come of it all, no one knows.
Meanwhile the correspondents are regular guests at the finest restaurants where they spend terrific sums on food and wine. Odd dishes like venison, turkey, and suchlike are excellent, vegetables are scarce, but fresh water fish also good. Few potatoes, no oil on salads; no fresh milk, but eggs seem plentiful, though dear. I have 2 every morning, but no butter on my bread.
I lunched the other day with Renwick and his wife, a nice little woman with bad teeth, but very pleasant. Our organization is continuing to beat all the rest on essential news, so the others are confining themselves to descriptive descriptive stories.
I am anxious to get some news from you and hope for a letter soon. The woods must be getting lovely now – I wonder how you are spending the holidays. For us there is of course no let-up, as usual; but fortunately, no night work. My health continues A /, I am thankful to say,
so you need have no fear about that. I have to turn out some mail stuff, so will end here.
With much love, dearest,
Always thine,
Jack
Unter der Linden
Berlin, Easter Sunday
afternoon 4/4
Dearest;
I have heard nothing from you since my first letter a fortnight ago; perhaps this is not surprising as I don’t know how long letters take nowadays to England or from England; one man says one thing and another something different. I hope all is well with you and if the weather is as fine in London is as it is here, there is certainly no cause for grumbling. It has been simply glorious this fortnight, and the holidays equally so. All Berlin is out today in the parks quietly enjoying the balmy air and the sunshine. I have just had a walk on my own around to the telegraphy office with some messages and am writing this in my own room at the hotel.
Last Tuesday I attended a session of the National Assembly for the first tie; I have a permanent gallery ticket. Previously I had only been in the Reichstag building at committee meetings. The different orators were just slanging away at their opposing parties ; now and then a woman yelled in between . As I said before, there are about 30 of them; one of them reminded me of Tante Mie. They are mostly dressed in dingy blouses and ditto skirts; some sit together; others in between the menfolk. The smartest one (she sat among the conservatives) had a sort of black net overdress, but Lady Astor has beaten them all hollow. None of them wear hats; and all look intensely earnest, worn and haggard. Well they might, because life must be very hard for all of them. The men are also far from prepossessing, and their clothes are generally misfits. Which reminds me of a dreadful discovery, my (Hague) suit, or rather the Greeks, are are wearing very thin and a hole has made its appearance, so that I am much afraid I shall be let in for another suit, if I remain here much longer. I was also caught short of collars and had to buy 3, at 15 marks apiece, however that is only about 1s/- but the only kind the best hosiers shop had bore the mark “Kronprinz”; I am afraid I shall have to lose them conveniently when I get back to London; it’s no good keeping them for Bill, eh? By the way, tell Bill that those Germans polish my boots beautifully like patent leather so when I get back he will have to put some more blacking on.
People do take it out of the foreigners here; those who have been travelling about the country tell me that an extra charge of 200% (!)is made on their hotel bills. Everything has to be locked up tight in hotel rooms; Conger has had his coat, typewriter and camera stolen while he had left his room for 10 minutes, and I have lost my pants, luckily the old mended ones, which means I shall have to buy a pair, costing 140 marks; luckily only about 10s/- English. Simply vanished! No trace. So I lock up everything, books &c. which it would be simply tempting providence to leave about.
In Berlin all is quiet now, but there is still desultory fighting and marauding bands going about the country. Moyston is leaving tomorrow for Copenhagen, where a general strike is threatening, and Conger is going with him (for the Philadelphia Ledger) otherwise the same gang of American and English journalists remain at the hotel. Wilcox I see every morning in the lobby smoking his pipe and reading the papers. I am told his articles are much appreciated in the D.T. The situation is still very confused, and even more difficult to follow than under the old regime. Every party is struggling for the mastery, and what will come of it all, no one knows.
Meanwhile the correspondents are regular guests at the finest restaurants where they spend terrific sums on food and wine. Odd dishes like venison, turkey, and suchlike are excellent, vegetables are scarce, but fresh water fish also good. Few potatoes, no oil on salads; no fresh milk, but eggs seem plentiful, though dear. I have 2 every morning, but no butter on my bread.
I lunched the other day with Renwick and his wife, a nice little woman with bad teeth, but very pleasant. Our organization is continuing to beat all the rest on essential news, so the others are confining themselves to descriptive descriptive stories.
I am anxious to get some news from you and hope for a letter soon. The woods must be getting lovely now – I wonder how you are spending the holidays. For us there is of course no let-up, as usual; but fortunately, no night work. My health continues A /, I am thankful to say,
so you need have no fear about that. I have to turn out some mail stuff, so will end here.
With much love, dearest,
Always thine,
Jack
Original Format
Letter
To
Bouman Family
Files
Collection
Citation
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958, “Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family,” 1920 April 4, WWP23086, Jon Anthony Bouman Collection, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.