Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Title
Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family
Creator
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958
Identifier
WWP23107
Date
1921 September 8
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
Thursday evening
Sept 8, 1921
Dearest;-
I meant to answer your letter of last Sunday yesterday – it only seems to take two days in transmission now – but I happened to run into a joyous birthday party (they call them birthday parties, but let that pass) and so it got too late.
Your cutting of the W. Dispatch was very welcome, as we don’t get that paper here; Moloney especially was very interested in it. Have we still got the old clippings of Lady S’s stories; if so, I wish you would send them on. Let me know if you received that cheque for pound 1, which I cashed for Eastering, also let me know if it is O.K. Your bank will tell you when it has passed through. One never knows!
I want to thank Bechtie for her nice little note; how curious that little Arthur should not care for apples and jam! He must be quite an exception. No doubt he will be having a fine time in London with you all. Edwin Wilcox I met the other day in the hotel where he has a room, and he has an office somewhere outside. He was full of his last visit to Father and Mother some time back, and how mother kissed and blessed him; he thought they were the most wonderful old couple he had ever seen! He sends his kind regards to them, also to you.
Well, I am not exactly killing myself with work, as Easterling is back here, and real news is somewhat scarce; there are the everlasting party quarrels and bickerings, varied by all sorts of wild rumors that turn out to be baseless in a few hours; they keep one more or less on the go for the time being. Parliament meets towards the end of the month, when we may be more busy than now. The days are drawing in, and I miss my walk through my beloved Tiergarten in the evening. After dark it is not a desirable place. Altogether the atmosphere here is “hectic” for a correspondent although there is little that is tangible. The mark is now worth a halfpenny, so they have doubled the price of rooms a most hotels. Most people are speculating in an insensate fashion; much excitement on the stock exchange all the time, and where it will end, goodness knows. Meanwhile, money is thrown about in handfuls; places of amusement crammed and everybody seemingly having a good time. It was Enderis’ real birthday last Saturday so he stood me a very excellent dinner at a select little restaurant where only the richest war profiteers resort. It was decorated inside in Japanese style, with gilt statues of Buddha all around, and filled with a bunch of close cropped fat necked profiteers oozing with money and their womenfolk, gorging and guzzling. The food was of super excellence from start to finish, a real joy to an epicure like myself altho I feel ashamed at the thought of so many people going short in this country and the appalling famine in Russia. There is something wrong in this enormous disparity of distribution of the world’s goods and it explains the prevailing discontent and clan hatred.
I went to see Potash & Perlmutter the other evening by myself and found it very amusing; the audience as well as the play. Everybody in boxes and stalls was munching sandwiches brought – greasy paper packets; it was odd to see all these jaws working all around the place. I also saw a moving picture play full of the wildest hairbreadth adventure in motor cars and along telephone wires; the hero being someone made up as “the Viscount of Northumberland, Chamberlain to the Prince of Wales”. He was a scream, with a monocle and little side whiskers and looked like nothing else on earth. His friend was “Sir Karl Sutton” another impossible idiot.
The Adlon has the same hard faced cosmopolitan lot in the big hall where people sit around and move about in an incessant procession; chiefly bent on making money or keeping what they have got. Lord Beaverbrook came in today and there is a whole crowd of Americans who find Berlin quite cheap. Some of us including myself were entertained by Herbert Pulitzer, a son of the late millionaire owner of the New York World. Little Mrs. Brown, “The Daughter of the Regiment” is still very much in evidence.
I have heard nothing more about my hat – I hardly expected to, but it is very annoying to have had to buy another one here.
Friday afternoon.
This morning I hear a hotel thief has been caught red handed on my floor, and the police marched him off. This is typical of the general insecurity, the everlasting pilfering. Moloney tells me awful stories about troubles they have at home with servants and shopkeepers; I really wouldn’t care to set up house here in these conditions. His two children are now going to a public school and Moloney says they do better at subjects in which German children fail, and worse in those that German children are generally good at. I saw Mrs. M. at the hotel yesterday, she is looking well.
Not a drop of rain has fallen here since I came, and today the weather is of summer- like warmth. Tell Bechtie I have got more hotelly than ever; I shall have great trouble in getting out of my habit of locking everything up, which is awfully annoying. One may forget a handkerchief and then has to find the key and unlock the wardrobe again. I went with Enderis again to buy some leather bags he wanted for travelling—one can buy splendid ones for at present rates but I don’t think I can afford it; must confess I was greatly tempted!
The papers are just coming out, so no more at present. With much love to you all
Your Jack
Sept 8, 1921
Dearest;-
I meant to answer your letter of last Sunday yesterday – it only seems to take two days in transmission now – but I happened to run into a joyous birthday party (they call them birthday parties, but let that pass) and so it got too late.
Your cutting of the W. Dispatch was very welcome, as we don’t get that paper here; Moloney especially was very interested in it. Have we still got the old clippings of Lady S’s stories; if so, I wish you would send them on. Let me know if you received that cheque for pound 1, which I cashed for Eastering, also let me know if it is O.K. Your bank will tell you when it has passed through. One never knows!
I want to thank Bechtie for her nice little note; how curious that little Arthur should not care for apples and jam! He must be quite an exception. No doubt he will be having a fine time in London with you all. Edwin Wilcox I met the other day in the hotel where he has a room, and he has an office somewhere outside. He was full of his last visit to Father and Mother some time back, and how mother kissed and blessed him; he thought they were the most wonderful old couple he had ever seen! He sends his kind regards to them, also to you.
Well, I am not exactly killing myself with work, as Easterling is back here, and real news is somewhat scarce; there are the everlasting party quarrels and bickerings, varied by all sorts of wild rumors that turn out to be baseless in a few hours; they keep one more or less on the go for the time being. Parliament meets towards the end of the month, when we may be more busy than now. The days are drawing in, and I miss my walk through my beloved Tiergarten in the evening. After dark it is not a desirable place. Altogether the atmosphere here is “hectic” for a correspondent although there is little that is tangible. The mark is now worth a halfpenny, so they have doubled the price of rooms a most hotels. Most people are speculating in an insensate fashion; much excitement on the stock exchange all the time, and where it will end, goodness knows. Meanwhile, money is thrown about in handfuls; places of amusement crammed and everybody seemingly having a good time. It was Enderis’ real birthday last Saturday so he stood me a very excellent dinner at a select little restaurant where only the richest war profiteers resort. It was decorated inside in Japanese style, with gilt statues of Buddha all around, and filled with a bunch of close cropped fat necked profiteers oozing with money and their womenfolk, gorging and guzzling. The food was of super excellence from start to finish, a real joy to an epicure like myself altho I feel ashamed at the thought of so many people going short in this country and the appalling famine in Russia. There is something wrong in this enormous disparity of distribution of the world’s goods and it explains the prevailing discontent and clan hatred.
I went to see Potash & Perlmutter the other evening by myself and found it very amusing; the audience as well as the play. Everybody in boxes and stalls was munching sandwiches brought – greasy paper packets; it was odd to see all these jaws working all around the place. I also saw a moving picture play full of the wildest hairbreadth adventure in motor cars and along telephone wires; the hero being someone made up as “the Viscount of Northumberland, Chamberlain to the Prince of Wales”. He was a scream, with a monocle and little side whiskers and looked like nothing else on earth. His friend was “Sir Karl Sutton” another impossible idiot.
The Adlon has the same hard faced cosmopolitan lot in the big hall where people sit around and move about in an incessant procession; chiefly bent on making money or keeping what they have got. Lord Beaverbrook came in today and there is a whole crowd of Americans who find Berlin quite cheap. Some of us including myself were entertained by Herbert Pulitzer, a son of the late millionaire owner of the New York World. Little Mrs. Brown, “The Daughter of the Regiment” is still very much in evidence.
I have heard nothing more about my hat – I hardly expected to, but it is very annoying to have had to buy another one here.
Friday afternoon.
This morning I hear a hotel thief has been caught red handed on my floor, and the police marched him off. This is typical of the general insecurity, the everlasting pilfering. Moloney tells me awful stories about troubles they have at home with servants and shopkeepers; I really wouldn’t care to set up house here in these conditions. His two children are now going to a public school and Moloney says they do better at subjects in which German children fail, and worse in those that German children are generally good at. I saw Mrs. M. at the hotel yesterday, she is looking well.
Not a drop of rain has fallen here since I came, and today the weather is of summer- like warmth. Tell Bechtie I have got more hotelly than ever; I shall have great trouble in getting out of my habit of locking everything up, which is awfully annoying. One may forget a handkerchief and then has to find the key and unlock the wardrobe again. I went with Enderis again to buy some leather bags he wanted for travelling—one can buy splendid ones for at present rates but I don’t think I can afford it; must confess I was greatly tempted!
The papers are just coming out, so no more at present. With much love to you all
Your Jack
Original Format
Letter
To
Bouman Family
Files
Collection
Citation
Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958, “Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family,” 1921 September 8, WWP23107, Jon Anthony Bouman Collection, Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum, Staunton, Virginia.