Pages

Sunday, December 14, 2014

BIRTH | Dec. 8–Mary ("Queen of Scots") Stuart

Mary Queen of Scots (1542-1587)
On this day in 1542 was born Mary Queen of Scots in Linlithgow Palace, West Lothian, Scotland. She was the daughter of James V of Scotland and his second wife, Mary of Guise. The Catholic Guise family, from Lorraine, was influential at court in Paris. Mary's father died when she was only 6 days old, at which point she was crowned Mary, Queen of Scots.

Henry VIII of England, her great-uncle, saw an opportunity to try to bring Scotland and England closer together. He formally suggested betrothal of Mary to his son Edward and followed up with a six-year campaign.

As a preemptive strike against the suggestion, Mary's mother negotiated a deal with her family in France, Scotland's old ally. From the age of five, Mary Stuart grew up in France, in the court of Henry II, a Catholic.

Mary received a good education in France - in music, dancing, and horsemanship, and in classical and modern languages. At 16 she married Henry's eldest son, Francis, who was 14 and entitled to rule. His father died in an accident and Francis became king in 1559. Six months later, Mary's Protestant cousin once removed, Elizabeth, became Queen. Mary was second in line.

Francis II, never healthy, died, widowing Mary at 18. She returned to Scotland to rule in 1561, but it was now a different country, largely converted to Protestantism. Although Mary showed great religious tolerance and was beautiful and talented, she was viewed as a foreigner in Scotland. Elizabeth meanwhile feared Mary had designs on the English crown.

In 1565 Mary married her cousin Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley and they had a son, James. However, Henry drank too much and was unpopular, so he was murdered in 1567. Mary married the chief suspect, James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, after being abducted. Bothwell was exiled by Scottish nobles, and Mary was deposed in favor of James.

In 1568, Mary foolishly left Scotland to seek the help of Elizabeth I, who saw her opportunity and promptly put Mary in prison for the murder of Darnley. In 1587, Elizabeth was informed of a  Catholic plot to assassinate her. She decided that Mary's existence was unhealthy for her, and had her tried for treason and executed on February 8, 1587.

Mary's son James did not object to the beheading of his mother and was rewarded for his filial indifference in due course by becoming James VI of Scotland (1567) and then succeeding Elizabeth in 1603 as James I of England, the first of the Stuart kings, uniting the the thrones of England and Scotland and becoming the first king of the United Kingdom.

However, his son Charles did not fare so well. He became king in 1625 when his father James I of England died. He fought for the divine right of kings to rule in the face of Oliver Cromwell's Roundhead Parliament. Charles I became the first English king ever executed by Parliament, in 1649; also the last (apparently the message was received at Buckingham Palace). But that's another story.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

OLGA MARLIN | June 13–Arrives Nairobi, 1960 (Updated Feb. 29, 2016)

L to R: Olga Emily Marlin, Ervin Ross ("Spike") Marlin, Tere Temes
 and Marlene Sousa. Spike, 51, paid a surprise visit to Olga,
26, in July 1960. He was working with the U.N. Office of the
High Commissioner for Refugees.
My sister Olga went to Nairobi in 1960 to help start an interracial school for girls.

As I update this post, that is 56 years ago. It was not so long after the uprising in 1950-1954 of the rebel Mau-Mau, who were fighting for independence from Britain.

The former Belgian Congo was to become independent on June 30 barely two weeks after Olga arrived.

The transition turned out to be accompanied by widespread violence in the Congo, initiated by both incoming and outgoing leaders.

Independence for Kenya was in the offing and seeing the difficult transition in the Congo, some worried European teachers were making plans to leave Kenya, as Olga describes in her memoir (To Africa with a Dream, 2011, 84). Olga stayed and after Kenya became independent she became a Kenyan citizen.

Olga and seven other European women arrived in Nairobi in two waves to create a new school for girls:
  • Group 1 (five brave women) left June 12 from Rome to Nairobi– Olga Marlin, Mary Mahoney (former army nurse), Marlene Sousa, Elisa Serrano, Rosario Insausti. 
  • Group 2 (three equally brave women), left from Rome one month later, even after all the violence in the Congo–Tere Temes, Margaret Curran, Encarnacion Riera. 
  • Helping the groups leave Rome was Mary Rivero, from Spain, in the Central Offices of Opus Dei in Rome. She drove the first group to the airport on June 12, 1960. 
  • On the arrival end, Mrs. Agnes Lavelle from Ireland was living in Nairobi and helped get the school started. Mary Kibera is one of the first native-Kenyan members of Opus Dei and also helped get the school started. Later, she headed Kianda School for several years.
In Nairobi, the Founding Eight had very few friends to support their work. They had to rely on earning their own money. Olga had a job at Kenya High School lined up to ensure some income, and some good jobs were anticipated for the well-qualified members of the group, such as nurse Mary Mahoney and secretary Margaret Curran (To Africa, 2011, 64).

When they first arrived at Nairobi airport they were supposed to be met, but nobody was there because their original plan was to arrive on the next plane from Rome one week later, and a telegram changing the arrival time was left over the weekend in a post-office box.

The incoming team rented a house on the Lavington Estate, which had been owned by the St. Austin's Mission, supported by the French Holy Ghost Fathers. It was on Invergara Road (later changed to Vergara Road), near the Invergara Club in the Lavington Estate area.

This is the house that E. R. Marlin–Olga's father and mine–paid a surprise visit to in July 1960. The school founders lived there from June 1960 to June 1961. The two women with her in the photo, Tere Temes and Marlene Sousa, were from Spain and Portugal. When Olga was recuperating from an illness in Spain, she said she saw Tere several times. Marlene Sousa became sick in Nairobi and had to return to Portugal in 1961. (Feb. 29, 2016: Olga is back in Kenya, having recovered surprisingly from her rare illness.)

Dad was visiting Olga for two reasons.
  • He was en route to the former Belgian Congo to address the violence and refugees after independence was declared on June 30, as the Senior Director of the U.N. Office of the High Commissioner for Refugees. He was the highest-ranking American in the agency, reporting to a Swiss High Commissioner, Ambassador Felix Schnyder, and (starting in 1962) his Deputy, Prince Sadruddin Aga Khan, as well as with Yul Brynner, who was playing an active role in bringing the UNHCR's activities some visibility.
  • He was of course concerned for his daughter about the impact of the violence in the Congo on Kenya–not just the Congolese refugees (To Africa, 78-79), but the prospects for a peaceful transition when Kenya itself would become independent.
Olga spoke about the first location of Kianda School in her address to the convocation of Strathmore University when she was awarded her honorary doctorate:
In pre-Independence Kenya it was unheard of to mix the races [African, European, Indian], and Strathmore met with initial hostility. However, they went ahead, full of faith, and incorporated into their shield the symbol of three hearts — one for each race — and the motto Ut omnes unum sint (“That all may be one” John 17, 11) which continues to grace the university shield today. The residential Strathmore College opened in March 1961 with students from all three races.

We had a similar experience with Kianda College. We had discovered that the most popular post-secondary training for girls was a secretarial course, since it took only one year and was well remunerated. Although only one of us was a secretary, we decided to embark on the course in our rented house at Invergara Road, Lavington. However, when we applied to the Nairobi City Council for registration, we were told that we had to have the written consent of all our neighbours before we could admit a non-European student to that area. As soon as we could we moved to the present location of Kianda.
Tom Mboya, Assassinated 1969.
Kianda College is located on Waiyaki Way (A104) in Nairobi, opposite the Afraliti Guest House, which is west of Nairobi School and east of the Communications Commission of Kenya. Strathmore School is located less than three km. southwest of Kianda College.

That founding year 1960 was a few years before Barack Obama Senior obtained a scholarship to study in the United States from a fund controlled by a fellow Luo, Thomas Joseph Odhiambo ("Tom") Mboya - who was Kenya's first Minister for Economic Planning and Development.

L to R: Olga Marlin, Mama Ngina Kenyatta.
As time went by, Tom and his wife Pamela became strong supporters of Kianda College and Pamela was a great friend of my sister Olga (To Africa, 158). When Tom was assassinated on July 5, 1969 Pamela asked Olga look after their children (To Africa, 160).

Mzee Jomo and Mama Ngina Kenyatta also took an interest in Kianda College. They visited in 1970 and later Daniel arap Moi also visited the school.

Out of the mustard seed planted by the original group of eight women have grown some 40 schools and centers for girls and young women in Kenya and elsewhere in Africa, from the first grades through to the university level.

What Happened to the Founding Eight?

Where are the founders of Kianda College today?

Group 1 (June 1960)
Olga Marlin - in Pamplona, Spain for health reasons, to be near the Navarre Clinic.
Mary Mahoney - deceased.
Marlene Sousa - returned to Portugal after recovering from TB in Kenya.
Elisa Serrano - in Spain, after many years in Kenya, for health reasons.
Rosario Insausti - deceased.

Group 2 (July 1960)
Tere Temes - in Spain.
Margaret Curran - deceased.
Encarnacion Riera - in Spain, returned from Kenya after many years for health reasons.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

STARS AND STRIPES | More Shreds of Evidence

The Grand Union flag carried by the Continental Army,
 1775. The Union Jack in the canton united the English
St. George's cross with the Scottish St. Andrew's saltire
 (diagonal cross). After April 19, the canton had to go.
For three years, I have been trying to sort out "shreds of evidence" to solve a longstanding historical puzzle–the origins of the stars in the American flag.

The puzzle is still unsolved, but I believe I’ve identified some new pieces of the puzzle that may help answer the question: Was George Washington's coat of arms a factor in our flag’s design, and, if so, how?

My search has led me to focus on the counties on the border between England and Scotland. There are connections here that appear to have eluded heraldry experts, who I think have failed to see that George Washington and his friends might have wisely employed some misdirection to deflect questions about the obvious fact that the young American flag echoed his family's arms.

One thing is clear–the time frame for the creation of the Stars and Stripes is well defined. Before 1775, most of the protesting colonists were eager to assert that, despite their grievances, they still considered themselves loyal subjects of the Crown, King George III.

Hence, as Sir Charles Fawcett explains at length in a 1937 article, the East India Company flag was initially an acceptable one with which to 
indicate a union of the thirteen States in revolt, each of which had previously used a flag of its own. It seems to be established that it was first flown by Lieutenant Paul Jones on the Alfred, the flagship of the Congress Navy, on 3 December 1775. It was undoubtedly hoisted on 1 or 2 January 1776 by Washington at Cambridge, Massachusetts, when he assumed command of the united forces of those States [and is therefore called the Cambridge flag].
The meaning attached by the colonists to the 13 stripes in the Grand Union flag was the 13 colonies. This carried forward to the Stars and Stripes formally adopted by the Congress via a resolution of June 14, 1777.  The flag's origins may also be credited to the Sons of Liberty, originally nine Boston citizens who in August 1765 objected to the passing of the Stamp Act. They adopted the "rebellious stripes flag" with nine vertical stripes, five red and four white. This came to mean the nine colonies represented at the rebel Stamp Act Congress of 1765. Participants from the other four colonies eventually joined in, so the nine stripes became 13. In 1767, the Sons of Liberty adopted the 13-stripe flag, identical to the East India Company flag and began recruiting supporters. In December 1773, the Sons of Liberty united against the Tea Act and poured tons of tea into the Boston Harbor.

The perspective of London was that the King's troops cleared the French and the Indians from the colonies, and the cost of keeping the troops there should be borne by the colonies. British regular troops were the vanguard in that war, under Scotsman General Braddock, who led the troops and died in the effort. George Washington was a colonel in this war and Braddock was his mentor and hero until Braddock died after the Battle of Duquesne (today's Pittsburgh, named after Pitt the Elder).

The Stamp Act and Tea Act were two of the ways the Crown chose to pay for the cost of maintaining British troops in the colonies. For Virginians, another way was more worrisome–the Quebec Act, in which the Crown claimed all the land that Virginia had been selling off to raise revenue.

The colonies had a different perspective. Their militias each state bore the brunt of the fighting, and if they were to be taxed by London, they wanted a voice in the London Parliament, just like Scotland.

The Continental Army in 1775 marched under the Grand Union flag, with Britain's Union Jack in the upper left corner–the canton, in flag speak–because they were hoping to trade their loyalty to the King for a voice in Parliament.

Their attitude changed completely after the morning of April 19, 1775, when 700 British Army regulars arrived at Lexington Common just as the sun was rising. The British regulars found 70 minutemen waiting, alerted by Paul Revere. Someone fired a shot and a battle was on.

It didn't last long, as the regulars outnumbered the defenders ten to one and had superior weapons. The regulars killed eight Lexington defenders, wounded ten more, and scattered the rest. The regulars moved on to Concord, where they found resistance; they turned tail back to Boston and were pursued all the way by minutemen.

But after Lexington and Concord, the Union Jack was now the enemy flag. It took more than two years for them to agree on a new flag, but the need for one was on everyone's mind. Forget the voice in Parliament. They wanted independence and they wanted a new flag with no Union Jack on it. ASAP.

So the key was the canton. The stripes, as noted above, already had rebel significance as the flag of the Sons of Liberty. The Union Jack had to be replaced. But with what??

Many people proposed new symbols. One famous one conveyed the colonists’ growing fury–a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike, over the slogan "Don't tread on me.”

The canton design of white stars n a blue field was presented by Washington to the Congress on June 14, 1777, with the description "a new constellation". The main thing that has been changed since then is the number of stars and their ordering within the canton. The other thing that was changed was the number of points in the stars; the original stars were six-pointed.

Elements of an "achievement", including the coat of arms
and the rest. Source: Berkshire History for Kids.
So... where did those white stars come from? George Washington’s coat of arms features three stars and three stripes. (In heraldic parlance, the blazon of the Washington shield is: Argent two bars and in chief three mullets gules. What looks like a stripe on a coat of arms is called a bar and what looks like a star is called a mullet, except in Scotland, where a star is a star. Argent is the metal silver. Gules is the tincture red.)

Naturally, Washington's coat of arms has been widely discussed as the likely source of inspiration for the flag, and this was the common view in 1876, when the Stars and Stripes were celebrated at the centennial of the Declaration of Independence.

But a letter to the editor of the New York Times, cited by mainstream historians since 1914, flatly rejected any connection with the Washington arms. Typical is a statement by Joseph McMillan, director of research for the American Heraldry Society, who wrote in the first issue of the group’s American Herald journal, in 2006:
Ever since the 19th century, many have been unable to resist the conjecture that the American flag and coat of arms are derived from the armorial bearings of President Washington. Unfortunately, there is not a shred of evidence that the one had anything to do with the other … [N]owhere in the records of [the government’s flag and great seal committees] is there any indication of a desire to honor Washington with the flag or the seal, honors which it would have been quite out of character for Washington to accept, considering how he reacted to other attempts to create a cult of personality around him.
Elements of an "achievement". Source: Fleur de Lis.
Has Mr. McMillan considered the possibility that the desire to honor Washington might have killed the whole idea? For the obvious reason that it would have been out of character for Washington to accept such an honor?

Is there really "not a shred of evidence"? Or has no one looked at the evidence seriously?

I will assemble here a few pieces of evidence for the connection between the flag and the coat of arms as I am searching for some new evidence in the origin of the stars on the flag, which I believe to be the key to the puzzle.

1. Sulgrave House Manor. In Northamptonshire last year I took a photo of the frame above the portrait of George Washington, contributed by the Colonial Dames of America. They strongly assert the connection between the Stars and Stripes and the Washington coat of arms. They used a design of Paul Revere, who had prepared it for William and Mary University. Paul Revere attached himself to the view that Washington's coat of arms was connected to the Stars and Stripes. Remember that no one wants to assert too close to a connection out of respect for Washington's democratic posture.

2. Tupper Play. In 1876, on the centennial of the Declaration of Independence, a popular English poet named Martin Farquhar Tupper wrote a highly successful play in which the character of Benjamin Franklin asserts that friends of Washington, unknown to him, made sure that the U.S. flag reflected the George Washington coat of arms. This was the widely accepted view at the time.

3. Douglas Wardrop. In 1914, in The New York Times, G. Douglas Wardrop, described as an Assistant Secretary to Theodore Roosevelt, asserted, "There is very little doubt that the three stars and the three stripes [on Washington’s coat of arms] furnished the idea for the American flag."

4. Mr. McMillan himself.  McMillan supplies evidence to answer his last sentence, about George Washington's avoidance of anything to do with the cult of the individual, earlier in his own article. Take a look at the long list he provided of Washington's purchases of objects bearing his coat of arms or crest or were defined by it. The Father of Our Country started buying these costly armorial objects when he was just 23 years old! I have greatly abbreviated the detail in his list and have ordered it by year to make my point. Does the following collection not suggest someone who would care deeply that the new American flag echo his family's arms?

George Washington coat of
arms with raven crest, coronet
and helmet. Source: Arms and
Badges.
1755: Unspecified goods ordered, marked with his crest [Washington appears to use the word crest loosely in heraldic terms, sometimes referring to his coat of arms with crest, sometimes just to the arms].
1755: Livery suits ordered from London for his house slaves and servants based on the red-and-silver (gules and argent) colors from his coat of arms–translated into scarlet and off-white, with lace trimmings. Washington owned slaves since his father died 12 years before and bequeathed to him ten slaves; when Washington died, there were 318 slaves at Mount Vernon. Washington's will provided for the freeing of all his slaves after his widow's death.
1757: Arms engraved on a silver cruet set made for him in London.
1758: Arms on the wax seal on a document he signed.
1768: Request to a London firm to manufacture a new carriage– requiring "my Arms agreeable to the impression here sent ... On the harness let my Crest be engraved.”
1771: A walking stick ordered from London with the arms engraved on the head, and the famed "rococo" bookplate with the Washington arms. In his will, Washington left his two canes to his cousins Lawrence and Robert Washington.
1771: Two seals ordered from the London carriage maker, one preferably of topaz in a gold locket, “with the Washington Arms neatly engrav'd thereon," and another stone in a second gold locket “with the Washington Crest.”
1790: Request to a Philadelphia firm to repaint a coach specifying:
 [M]y crest without any cipher [motto] is to be on the four quarter panels, all to be enclosed with the original ovals. If it is thought best that the crests should be painted (as Silver does not show on a light ground) they may be painted. But quere, whether of some ornamental painting within the Oval, and around the Silver crests (the colours of which should form a contrast to the silver and not be inconsistent with other parts of the work) might not look well.
1796: The Washington crest appears on the inkwell in the famous Lansdowne Portrait of Washington painted by Gilbert Stuart, now owned by the National Portrait Gallery in Washington.
1802: In the estate sale following the death of Washington's widow, his nephew Samuel Washington purchased a "Seal with W. arms" for $36.
1802: A second nephew, William Augustine Washington, bought another two seals, one with an ivory handle and another attached to a gold chain, most likely with the crest on them.

Many pieces of Washington armorial silver survive, notably at Mount Vernon:
  • A set of silver cups Washington used during the Revolutionary years.
  • A number of small silver items, such as spoons.
  • Numerous items of silver made in London before the war.
  • A silver service made in Philadelphia after the war. 
So, Washington was fiercely proud of his ancestors and their coats of arms –justly proud, as they certainly were distinguished. The arms, according to several sources, appear to date back to the 1346 Battle of Crécy, following which victory over the French his ancestor William de Wessyngton, knighted by Edward III, adopted the red bars and mullets for his shield. Washington may have resisted a cult of personality, but he succumbed early in life to a preoccupation–rising even perhaps to what we might today call an obsession–with this coat of arms.

The Hopkinson flag adopted by Congress in 1777.
If, however, we ignore all this and other evidence, and follow the post-1914 orthodoxy, accepting the current Wikipedia pronouncement that any connection between the Stars and Stripes and George Washington's arms is "erroneous", what then is the conventional view of the inspiration for the stars in our national flag?

Hopkinson Arms. Source:
My Heritage Wear.
Francis Hopkinson

Enter Francis Hopkinson, a multi-talented signer of the Declaration of Independence who was an employee of the Continental Navy Board - which operated as a rudimentary Navy Department. He was asked to deliver a flag. He did not change the red-and-white stripes and proposed that instead of the Union Jack in the canton there be 13 six-pointed white stars on a dark blue field, as shown above left.

His arrangement of the stars with a five-star diagonal echoes the English cross and Scottish saltire in the Union Jack. Hopkinson is credited with the design, although Congress didn't pay him his invoice of a "Quarter Cask" of wine because other people were involved and anyway he was already being paid for his services to the Navy Board.

Many authorities take all this at face value. Francis Hopkinson invented the Stars and Stripes, therefore it has nothing to do with George Washington.
Another Version of Hopkinson
Arms in Red (Gules).

However, I haven't seen it noted anywhere as of any significance in this context, but Hopkinson's family originated from Yorkshire and, like Washington's coat of arms, the coats of arms of the Hopkinson family have three stars in them.  The star-like charges on the Hopkinson coats of arms differ slightly:
  •  They are wavy "estoiles" (Old French for "stars") rather than the straight-sided "mullets" (which are supposed to be the spur-revels on the heel of a knight's boot) on the Washington crest.
  • They are six-pointed, whereas the Washington mullets are five-pointed. The original Stars and Stripes presented by Hopkinson had six points. Was he trying to assert that the Hopkinsons had a superior charge on their escutcheon? 
The so-called Betsy Ross "one cut"
 has nine steps before the cut.

But it would surely be a connection between Washington and Hopkinson that both of them would have noticed. Although the Washingtons were based in Durham, their properties and influence extended from inside Scotland down to contiguous northern Yorkshire, as shown, for example by the Washington coat of arms in the 15th century stained glass window of the Benedictine Abbey at Selby, well south of Durham.

When Scotland was getting ready to vote on independence earlier in 2014, leaders in the counties of Cumbria, Northumberland, Durham and Yorkshire toyed with trying to follow them out to become another independent country. Up there, London can seem far away. While Scottish soldiers often crossed the border to fight, in the north it was more of a domestic dispute.

In 14th century Oxford, students were divided into "northerners", meaning north of the River Trent (roughly, the old Danelaw territory), and southerners, meaning from England south of the Trent, or Wales, or Cornwall or Ireland (the old Wessex area).

Is it possible that:
  • Francis Hopkinson was selected to design the flag because Washington, or his loyal comrades like Benjamin Franklin and Paul Revere, liked the idea of white stars on a blue field and they expected the outcome of the Hopkinson deliberations to be what it was? 
  • Why does the final version of the stars on the flag go to five points if not because Washington's fans preferred the connection to him rather than to Hopkinson?
  • Was the Betsy Ross story that five points are easier to cut than a symmetrical six–which is counter-intuitive–promulgated as a cover for the real motivation, which was to honor Washington without stirring up fears of a new monarchy, which was far from Washington's intent?
(Next: The Douglas and Moray coats of arms.)

Friday, October 31, 2014

WW2 | 1.The Boissevain Clan (Updated July 9, 2016)

"No regret for the past. No
fear of the future."
The following is the first chapter of a book on the Boissevains before 1940 and During WW2.

My grandmother Olga Boissevain's family were Huguenots – French Protestants who followed John Calvin's doctrine of predestination, changing  the status of business people from one of toleration to one of divine grace.

They originally lived in Bergerac in the Dordogne, France but had to leave because the Catholic king Louis XIV became uneasy at the growth of their power.

The Boissevains Escape France and Move to Holland

No one would want to leave the gorgeous Dordogne area voluntarily. They had to be kicked out. The Boissevains left because they were a minority within France that was no longer welcomed.

The name Boissevain comes from the boxwood tree (Buxus) that is common in the Dordogne. In that part of the world, one tree means in front of the house means "Go Away”. Two trees means “Come and Go as You Please”. Three trees together means “Welcome”.

The first of the Boissevain clan was Lucas Bouyssavy (1660-1705), who made his Roman name into a more French name by changing it to Boissevain. He was a French Calvinist, i.e., a Huguenot. The name "Huguenot" seems to have come from the name of an early leader names Hugues.

 After the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV in 1685, Lucas escaped to Holland in 1688, hiding among wine barrels in the hold of a ship from Bordeaux to Amsterdam. He began his life as an immigrant by teaching subjects like bookkeeping, French and architectural drafting. He kept the faith, attending the Walloon (francophone) church in Amsterdam.

The name Boissevain comes from the boxwood tree (Buxus) that is common in the area. Three trees together mean "Welcome" (two trees mean "Come and Go as You Please" and one tree means "Go Away").

Calvin went beyond Martin Luther in objecting to an anti-business bias in Roman Catholic doctrine. He built on preachings of St. Augustine to develop a doctrine of predestination, in which worldly wealth is a sign of divine favor. For from being an obstacle to entering the Kingdom of Heaven, wealth was a sign of the elect.

With this wind in their sails, the Huguenots were successful in France, and at their height they accounted for half of the nobility and half of the artisans. But the Catholic Church fought back:
  • In 1534, the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) was created by Spaniard St. Ignatius of Loyola, as a counter-Reformation group with a military-style organization, reporting directly to the Pope.
  • In 1572, to end a French civil war between Catholics and the Protestant Huguenots, Catherine de' Medici, wife of Henry II, called Huguenot leaders to Paris on St. Bartholomew's Day, ostensibly for peace negotiations. She then had all of these leaders massacred in their beds during the night.
  • In 1685, Louis XIV became impatient with the Huguenots' mobilizing an "armed political party" (William Langer, Encyclopedia of World History, 1948, p. 386) under the protection of a promise of religious freedom by Henry IV. Louis revoked  this promise, the Edict of Nantes. 
After the Revocation of the Edict, the Huguenots fled France. This damaged the country's economy and contributed to the unrest that erupted into the French Revolution. The New Catholic Dictionary (1929, p. 321) says it all:
The results of the Edict's being revoked were disastrous for France.
The Boissevain family well remembers its history of religious persecution, not least and the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre. This has meant - as in many other families that have faced persecution - the family retains a core value of fighting for justice, and a consciousness of the cost of this value. The Huguenot religious beliefs have been diluted and modified through shifts to a more secular society as well as  conversions and marriages (my mother, for example, converted to Catholicism). The core family value is expressed in the Boissevain motto
Ni regret du passé, Ni peur de l’avenir.  No regret for the past, because its costs are the price we must pay. No fear of the future, because we are here to face forward.
The Boissevain Family in Holland

Charles and Emily Boissevain proudly pose with their six
daughters, at Drafna c. 1910, before the wood was painted white.
Back row (L to R): Olga, Emily, Charles, Hester.
Front row: Mary, Hilda, Nella, Teau.
The Boissevains in Holland begin with Lucas Bouyssavy (1660-1705), who made his Roman name into a more French name by changing it to Boissevain.

After the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV in 1685, Lucas escaped to Holland in 1688, hiding among wine barrels in the hold of a ship from Bordeaux to Amsterdam. He began his life as an immigrant by teaching subjects like bookkeeping, French and architectural drafting. He kept the faith, attending the Walloon (francophone) church in Amsterdam.

Through the church he met Marthe Roux, who escaped with her mother and sister in a hay wagon in 1686. Marthe Roux's mother kept her daughters quiet even when soldiers at the border stuck their bayonets into the hay. Marthe's mother was stuck in the leg but was soundless, even having the presence of mind to wipe her blood off the bayonet with her skirt. Of such stuff were the Boissevain women made. No wonder they were leaders in the woman suffrage movement in Holland.

She and Lucas married in 1700 and had a son Jeremie Boissevain (1702-1762), who continued his father's business of teaching drafting and English, and worked as a bookkeeper. He had a son Gideon Jeremie Boissevain (1741-1802), who was a merchant and accountant (bookhoeder). He had a son Daniel Boissevain (1772-1834), who became a ship-owner, living in the middle of Amsterdam on the Herengracht. He married a socially prominent woman and they had 14 children, including five males from whom most of the other Boissevains in the world appear to be descended (the others descend from Daniel's brother Henri Jean Boissevain).

The Boissevains in Holland did well with their Huguenot appetite for commerce. They were involved in seagoing activities - Dutch Navy admirals, shipping magnates, sea rescue directors, shipbuilding, and banking. The family was extremely musical and creative, and generated not only Bankers and Boaters, but Bohemians as well. The Boissevains were a major force for the creation of the concert hall (Concertgebouw) in Amsterdam. I heard this from my mother and from a Dutch relative who was close to her, the late Sacha Boissevain (see February 2010 post).

Emily Heloise MacDonnell Boissevain and her five sons, c 1910.
L to R, seated, front row: Charles E. H., Emily, and Alfred.
Standing: Jan Maurits, Eugen and Robert (all three went to USA).
The eldest of the five children of Daniel Boissevain was Gideon Jeremie Boissevain (1796-1875). He married three times, the second time to a van Lennep. All of his eight children who survived infancy were by his third wife Maria van Heukelom. Of the eight, the three most prolific were:

The Jantjes - Boaters and Bankers

Jan Boissevain (1836-1904, NP p. 52) was  the fifth child of Gedeon and was a Boater and Banker. My mother used to call his nine children and their descendants the Jantjes (little Jans). The term is formally identified in the Dutch Boissevain Foundation Bulletin. The Jantjes were very important in the Dutch Resistance in World War II.
  • His third child Charles Daniel Walrave Boissevain was a Boater, going from the Dutch Navy to serve as Consul-General to Canada (1866-1944, NP p. 55); his son Jan "Canada" Boissevain was born in Montreal, hence the nickname; Jan Canada's sons Gi and Janka were leaders of the armed resistance. 
  • His seventh child, Petronella Johanna Boissevain, married Adriaan Floris ("Aat") van Hall (1870-1959, NP p. 54), and their children included the Dutch Resistance leader Walraven van Hall. Aat van Hall's twin brother Floris Adriaan ("Floor") van Hall died during the early part of World War II,  and Aat was named as his executor.
The Charletjes

http://nyctimetraveler.blogspot.com/2015/02/who-were-emily-helose-macdonnell-and.html

Charles Boissevain (1842-1927, NP p. 67), sixth child of Gedeon, was a Bohemian, publisher of the leading Dutch newspaper and, for some years, the most popular journalist in Holland, writing a column called Van Dag Tot Dag ("From Day to Day"). He married an Anglo-Irish woman, Emily Heloise MacDonnell, in 1867. His original first name was Karel, the Dutch version of Charles. But since he married an Irish girl, Emily Heloise MacDonnell (1844-1931), whom he met when covering the International Exhibition of 1865, he anglicized his name to Charles. He got sick while at the Exhibition, and Emily's parents brought him home to recover. Emily looked after him and they fell in love.

The MacDonnells came from Scotland in the 15th century. Colla MacDonnell settled in Tynekill Castle and was provided with gallowglasses (government soldiers) to keep order. They were powerful people in the county. My nephew Christ Oakley has visited what is left of Tynekill. James MacDonnell unfortunately forfeited the property and privileged position that Colla had acquired by rebelling against the British King in 1641. After that the MacDonnells had to have a profession or a government appointment. Richard MacDonnell (1787-1867) was Provost of Trinity College Dublin from 1852 until his death. He married Jane Graves, daughter of the Very Rev. Richard Graves who was descended from Duc Henri de Montmorency, executed in France in 1652. One of Richard MacDonnell's sons, Hercules Henry Graves MacDonnell (1819-1900) married Emily Anne Moylan in 1842, eloping to be wed by the blacksmith of Gretna Green - their second child was Emily MacDonnell. Emily Moylan (1852-1883) was the only child of Denis Creagh Moylan (1794-1849) and Mary Morrison King, who was the out-of-wedlock daughter of George, Third Earl of Kingston, who can be traced back to John of Gaunt and Edward III.

Charles was outspoken and liberal. He took the side of the Boers against British aggression in a book-length "Letter to the Duke of Devonshire" and upset his wife's relatives in Ireland. When Emily tried to defend the British, her daughters called her a Rooinek ("Redneck"), which is what the Boers called the British soldiers. Charles never seemed to have enough money, certainly not enough to match his vanity, but with he help of occasional inheritances they brought up eleven children in style. The Bohemians among the Boissevains never seemed to match the affluence of the Banker-Boaters like Jan, and the women among the Bankers were occasionally scandalized by the behavior of the Bohemians.

Charles and Emily had 11 children and they and their descendants are called the Kareltjes or Charletjes (little Charleses). The Boissevain Foundation Bulletin spells it Charles-tjes, but the English language avoids having three consonants in a row and I am spelling it the way my mother did, without the hyphen:
  • His eldest son, Charles Ernest Henri Boissevain (1868-1940, NP p. 69) married a famous Dutch suffragist Maria Barbera Pijnappel (one of many suffragists in the family); they had ten children of whom the third was Robert Lucas Boissevain, who was bankrupted by the Nazis and became a Dutch Resistance leader. In a house in Haarlem owned by his wife's recently deceased uncle Aat (Floris Adriaan van Hall), he lodged himself, his wife, six children (including one hiding from the forced-labor razzia), plus four Jewish hideaways. 
  • The third daughter, Olga Emily Boissevain (my grandmother), married a naval officer, Bram van Stockum.  They had a daughter, Hilda van Stockum, and two sons. The middle son, Willem van Stockum, worked with Einstein, volunteered to be a bomber pilot, and was killed in his sixth bombing mission over France during the week of D-Day (a book was written about him in 2014, Time Bomberby Robert Wack, a U.S. Army major and pediatrician).
  • The fourth daughter, Hilda Boissevain was born July 12, 1877. She was the younger of the middle two girls among the Charletjes.  The first two of Charles’ daughters, Mary and Hester (Hessie) made conventional marriages, with no interest in higher education. The second two–Hilda and Olga–were interested in higher education but had to fight for it. The third set of two, Nella and Teau, both went on to university without thinking twice about it. Hilda married Hendrik (“Han”) de Booy, from a long line of Dutch naval officers, including some vice-admirals, bonding with the Boaters among the Boissevains. In 1929-31, when Hilda van Stockum was in Amsterdam studying art, she stayed with the de Booy family and painted the portrait of their daughter Engelien. Han became the head of the Dutch Lifeboat Company, a sea-rescue organization. He also worked for the Amsterdam Concertgebouw as an officer, during which time his brother-in-law Charles E. H. Boissevain stepped off the Board to avoid a conflict of interest. The de Booys had four children: (1) Hendrik Thomas (Tom) de Booy, b. December 26, 1898, who married Ottoline Gooszen and followed his father as Secretary, then Director of the Dutch Lifeboat Company. (2) Alfred de Booy, b. May 29, 1901, married Sonja van Benckendorff, from Byelarus, the daughter of a landowner near Bakou. (3) Olga Emily de Booy, b. March 14, 1905, married John Gottlieb van Marle and they had three children (some cousins of the van Marles were active in the Resistance). (4) Engelina ("Engelien") Petronella de Booy, b. June 17, 1917 as mentioned was a friend of my mother Hilda van Stockum; she married Dr. Marcus Frans Polak at the beginning of the war and thereby saved his life because he was Jewish and would have been deported if not married to her. After the war they were divorced because he couldn’t carry the burden of knowing she saved his life. But, Engelien says, they remained very good friends to the end of their lives.
Hester and the den Texes

Hester Boissevain den Tex (1842-1914, NP p. 49), twin of Charles, married Nicolaas Jacob den Tex in 1866. They had ten children, one of whom married a Boissevain cousin!

References

Benoit, Histoire de l'Edit de Nantes (5 vols., Delft, 1693);

Browning, History of the Huguenots (London, 1840); PUAUX, Histoire de la Reformation francaise (7 vols., Paris, 1859);

Coignet, L'evolution du protestantisme francais au XIX siecle (Paris, 1908);

Encyclopedie des sciences religieuses, ed.

de Beze, Histoire ecclesiastique des eglises reformees au royaume de France (2 vols., Toulouse, 1882).

de la Tour, Les Origines de la Reforme (2 vols. already issued, Paris, 1905-9).

Dégert, Antoine. (1910). "Huguenots."  The Catholic Encyclopedia. New York: Robert Appleton Co. Retrieved Dec. 14, 2015 from New Advent: www.newadvent.org/cathen/07527b.htm

Encyclopedia Bitannica, 11th ed., 1910. "Huguenots. http://www.britannica.com/topic/Huguenot.

Laval, Compendious History of the Reformation in France (7 vols., London, 1737);

Lichtenberger, Paris, 1877-82), s.v.; HAAG, La France protestante (10 vols., Paris, 1846; 2nd ed. begun in 1877); Bulletin de l'histoire du protestantisme francais; Revue chretienne;

Smedley, History of the Reformed Religion in France (3 vols., London, 1832);

Other Chapters

The above post is a draft of Chapter 1 of a book. The other chapters are listed with links in The Boissevain Family in the Dutch Resistance, 1940-45


Thursday, October 16, 2014

The Causes of the Great Depression (Comments)

The red bars are the years of GDP
decline, i.e., recession/depression.
The Depression started August 1929.
Martin Kelly is a high school teacher who posts under about.com useful summaries about different eras in American history. Sort of, "What Every High School Graduate Should Know about American History."

It is important in a democracy that all voters understand their history.

Kelly recently posted on "The Causes of the Great Depression". Understanding the causes of the Depression is important so that we will avoid repeating the mistakes we made in the 1920s.

Since I am working on a biography of FDR's first Treasury Secretary, William H. Woodin, I was especially interested in his report. Woodin took the brunt of the initial Federal response to panic that greeted FDR's arrival in Washington. I believe the stress killed him. He resigned for health reasons at the end of 1933 and died not much more than a year after FDR took office.

I think some of Kelly's statements in his first two "Causes" about the timing of the Depression and the timing of bank failures are erroneous. I looked for a place to send him a correction but I could not find an email contact on his web site.

So I am posting my concerns here in an effort to spread truth and correct error. Americans should remember the facts about their history correctly. I'm expecting that this will in time reach him and perhaps he will make some changes. He lists other causes, but these are the first two and I will limit myself to them.

Cause #1 - The "Stock Market Crash of 1929"

Kelly considers the stock market crash of October 1929 as the first cause of the Great Depression. Here are his words:
1. Stock Market Crash of 1929 Many believe erroneously that the stock market crash that occurred on Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929 is one and the same with the Great Depression. In fact, it was one of the major causes that led to the Great Depression. Two months after the original crash in October, stockholders had lost more than $40 billion. Even though the stock market began to regain some of its losses, by the end of 1930, it just was not enough and America truly entered what is called the Great Depression.
The Depression of 1929-1933 ended with FDR's
New Deal. The Recession of 1937-1938 resulted
from a weakening of the New Deal. The
run-up to World War II revived GDP in 1938.
My Comment: The Bureau of Economic Analysis at the U.S. Department of Commerce has kept track of Gross Domestic Product (GDP) since after World War II. GDP is a measure of all goods and services produced during a year.

Business cycles are dated by an independent Business Cycle Dating Committee, also known as the Wise Men although it is not restricted to men. It reports through the National Bureau of Economic Research.

The Committee dates the Great Depression by two declines in GDP.
  • The first was August 1929 (or more broadly the third quarter of the year) through March 1933 (the first quarter), lasting three years and seven months. Starting with the arrival of FDR, the economy was recovering from the 26.7 percent decline in the economy.
  • The second was the recession from May 1937 (second quarter) to June 1938 (second quarter), when the economic decline was a serious 18.2 percent. This was precipitated by lower profits and tight fiscal and monetary policies.  
So... the misleading statements in Cause #1 in Kelly's post I think include the following:
  • The stock market crash occurred two months after the Depression started. Since the Depression started before the crash, something else was at work.
  • America did not enter the Great Depression at the end of 1930, but 18 months earlier.
  • The crash of the New York Stock Exchange is not a cause of anything except through the opinions of investors, of which it is simply an indicator. The cause of the Depression must be sought in the high value placed on stocks in the late 1920s, and the reason for the high level of speculation, i.e., borrowed money. The reliance of investors on debt subject to margin calls increased the riskiness of the stock market and added to the intensity of the revaluation of stock prices.
  • The $40 billion loss by investors in two months doesn't sound like a lot in today's stock market. It would be more meaningful to say that the 1929 high value of all stocks on the New York Stock Exchange was $87 billion and this valuation fell to $19 billion in 1933 - a drop of 78 percent. More than three-fourths of the value of listed stocks was wiped out.
Cause #2 - Bank Failures

Part of the problem that created the Great Depression is the instability of the banking system and therefore of the stock market that depended on it and the national economy that depended on both.
2. Bank Failures Throughout the 1930s over 9,000 banks failed. Bank deposits were uninsured and thus as banks failed people simply lost their savings. Surviving banks, unsure of the economic situation and concerned for their own survival, stopped being as willing to create new loans. This exacerbated the situation leading to less and less expenditures.
Bank failures virtually ended in 1933 with passage of the
Glass-Steagall Act, which created federal insurance of bank
deposits (via the FDIC) and, as a price for that, separated
banking from more speculative financial activities.
My Comment: The problem here in making bank failures the cause of the Depression is  the timing. The Depression is dated 1929-1933, with many of the failures being imposed by the Treasury at the end of the period.

There were bank failures in 1925, but then none until 1930. The underlying problem was the belief by depositors that they should be able to convert their deposits into gold or currency without limit.

Printing greenback dollars that were not backed by gold or silver was no longer controversial. It was problematic when Lincoln did it to pay the Union Army, but by 1929 paper dollars were well established.

However, in the 1920s, depositors were still of the belief that some or all of their deposits were backed by gold or silver. Some of the dollars were marked "gold certificates" with a yellow color on a part of the bill to indicate their special status.

Some depositors still believed that if they asked for it they would be entitled to redemption of their money in gold. In fact, what started to happen in the 1920s and especially in the early 1930s is that banks could not redeem demand deposits even with paper money. They were out of cash. Some were insolvent but others were only illiquid.

The fear that a bank could fail and depositors could lose their money was a basic underlying flaw in the banking system, leading to "runs on banks".

But here in a nutshell is what is wrong with what Kelly said about bank failures as a cause of the Depression:
  • Bank failures were not the cause of the Depression - they were a symptom of problems in the banking system that contributed to the Depression. As Warren Buffett has said: "Only when the tide goes out do you find out who is not wearing a bathing suit.”
  • Bank failures did not occur "throughout the 1930s". They occurred mostly before FDR was inaugurated in March 1933. The banks that were closed by the Treasury's Comptroller of the Currency were already insolvent.
  • Bank deposits were uninsured only until 1933. But starting in 1933, the Glass-Steagall law created the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, insuring most deposits and virtually ending bank closings. In 1934, only 57 banks closed, and after that the FDIC's guarantee and oversight was enough.
The year 1933 was crucial. Withdrawals of paper money and gold from banks occurred in February 1933 at three times the previous rate of $5 million per day. That month, Louisiana declared a bank holiday, and then Michigan did the same, closing the banks for eight days. By the day that FDR took office, 400 more banks closed. In the month before the inauguration, $320 million was withdrawn, and most of it $226 million, was withdrawn in the last week.

On Inauguration Eve, March 4, 1933, after meeting with outgoing Treasury Secretary Ogden Mills and staff, Will Woodin contacted New York Governor Herbert Lehman through the President of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York and persuaded him to agree to a bank holiday starting the next day. Lehman made the announcement at at 4:20 a.m.

The measures taken by FDR and Treasury Secretary Woodin, starting with, on March 5, the imposition of a three-day national bank holiday, and measures to stop the export and hoarding of gold. Woodin personally supervised printing more dollars in three shifts. The bank holiday was extended to March 13, and Woodin made it a priority that the Comptroller of the Currency performed stress tests quickly so that the healthy banks could be reopened.

These measures restored calm. Confidence returned. The public began putting their money back in the banks. The country returned to a growth in its GDP. Barnard Professor Raymond Moley, leader of FDR's brains trust and the man who recruited Will Woodin to work for FDR, said:
If ever there was a moment when things hang in the balance, it was on March 5, 1933 - when unorthodoxy would have drained the last remaining strength of the capitalist system. Capitalism was saved in eight days, and no other single factor in its salvation was half so important as the imagination and sturdiness and common sense of Will Woodin.  (Moley, After Seven Years, NY: Harper, 1939, Chapter V, p. 155.)

Monday, October 13, 2014

October 14 - William's Norman Army Wins Battle of Hastings, 1066

Harold II is said to have been killed, in this panel from the
Bayeux Tapestry, by William the Conqueror. But was he?
This day in 1066 William the Conqueror defeated the English at the Battle of Hastings. He had set off for England from Bayeux, so that's where a tapestry was made celebrating his victory. It's now a major tourist attraction in Normandy. (I visited the week of the 70th anniversary of D-Day with Alice Tepper Marlin and the Rex Hendersons from Australia.)

It looks a lot like a comic strip, maybe the oldest surviving one, and surely the longest one on public display.

One scene of the Bayeux Tapestry shows the death of King Harold II of England (Harold Rex Interfectus Est - King Harold Is Killed.). Some new scholarship suggests that this might not have happened then, and that Harold lived on, perhaps "on condition of anonymity" or in what we might today call a Witness Protection Program.

What interests me especially is how the history of Britain depends so much on what happened militarily after the 10th century, and how the split between northern and southern Britain has such deep roots. During the 10th century, the individual kingdoms within southern England - south iof the Trent is the usual dividing line - unified under the rule of Wessex into the Kingdom of England, which opposed the Danelaw, the Viking kingdoms established from the century before in northeastern England.
  • Ethelred II had a very long reign (978-1016, 38 years), but  he is called "Ethelred the Unready" because he was defeated in  by Danish King Sweyn, who invaded in 1013. However, Sweyn died a year later and Ethelred II climbed back onto the throne for two more years.
  • In 1015, Sweyn's son King Canute launched a new invasion. Ethelred's successor, Edmund Ironside, said "Hey, wait a minute, why don't we just divide the place up?" Smart move. 
  • That's what they did, Canute in the north and Edmund in the south. However, Edmund died in 1016, so England was reunited under Danish rule for the next 26 years.
  • However, in 1042 Harthacanute, son of Canute and Ethelred II's widow Emma of Normandy, died without an heir. 
  • So he was succeeded by his half-brother, Ethelred II's son, Edward the Confessor. He is considered the last of the Wessex kings, since his successor was in office only a few months. He had few rivals for the throne, so the Wessex Kingdom of England was free of foreign domination for 24 years, though not without challenge. Edward's Norman sympathies annoyed Godwin of Wessex, whose daughter Edith Edward married in 1045.  In 1050-52, Godwin assembled an army against Edward and Edward banished him. He may initially have named William, Duke of Normandy as his heir. Increased Norman influence brought Godwin back. Edward named Harold to lead the army as the king's deputy and probably named him heir on his deathbed. Edward died in 1066 and was buried in the Westminster Abbey that he built in the Norman style. 
In September 1066, William of Normandy left France with 600 ships and possibly as many as 10,000 men. They landed at Pevensey, in Sussex, and marched along the coast to Hastings. Harold II was pinned down in the north fighting off his brother and an army of Vikings. When he heard of William's invasion, he hurried his army south to a ridge about 10 miles northeast of Hastings. William sent his army to attack Harold, with archers in front, then infantrymen, and knights in the rear.

The Normans suffered early casualties, and twice pretended to retreat, luring out English troops from their defenses. Harold II was reported as being killed, which so demoralized the English army that they dispersed. The Norman victors moved on to London, where William I was crowned king on Christmas Day. William went to Berkhamsted Castle to accept the allegiance of the Saxon nobles.

Other stories about France: The Matisse Chapel (Vence)

Sunday, October 5, 2014

RAF No. 10 Squadron to Celebrate Its Centennial in 2015

The 10 Squadron Halifax Mark II, Series 1 at RAF Leeming, December 1941 - 
the plane flown by the two RAF crews shot down over Laval, June 10, 1944.
The No. 10 Squadron of the Royal Air Force will be 100 years old on January 1, 2015.

The No. 10 has been repurposed throughout the last century from observation to bombing, transport and aerial refueling.

During World War II, the No. 10 was a bomber squadron. It lost two Halifax bombers to anti-aircraft fire  over Laval, France on June 10, 1944, four days after D-Day.

One plane was piloted by F/O Henderson, an Australian, the other by a Dutchman who had been teaching at the University of Maryland and was  flying for the Royal Canadian Air Force, F/O van Stockum (subject of the novel Time Bomber). The 14 crew members of the two planes have been memorialized by two monuments outside of Laval unveiled on June 10, 2014, on the 70th anniversary of their deaths.

These two planes were less than 2 percent of the 128 Halifax planes lost by the Squadron during the war's 300 missions. With seven airmen on each plane, that would be 896 flyers killed, or about three per mission. The loss of two planes, 14 crewmen, on one mission would be four times the average.

 The 10th Squadron currently flies the Airbus Voyager, a transport and tanker.

First World War

1915-1919. No. 10 was formed in 1915, as part of the Royal Flying Corps, in 1915 at Farnborough Airfield, Hampshire, UK. It served as a spotter and bomber in France.

1928-1941. In 1928 it was reconstituted as a night bomber unit on Hyderabads at RAF Upper Heyford. It moved to RAF Boscombe Down in 1931 and later on to RAF Dishforth in 1937 to form part of the newly created No. 4 Group of RAF Bomber Command, using including Hinaidis, Vickers Virginias and Handley Page Heyfords.


Second World War 1941-1945


The squadron began in the Second World War as the first unit equipped with the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley.

The squadron remained a part of No. 4 Group throughout the war,re-equipping with the Halifax at the end of 1941.

In mid-July 1940 the squadron moved to RAF Leeming, Yorkshire. In mid-1942 they moved to RAF Melbourne, Yorkshire.

Since World War II

1945-50. No. 10 spent four years with Transport Command, flying Dakotas in India. After a one-year 1947-48 disbandment, No. 10 took over No. 238 Squadron and operated in Europe, taking part in the Berlin Airlift.

1953-1964. No. 10 Squadron reverted to its original bomber role, taking part in the Suez Crisis, equipped upon reformation at RAF Scampton with Martin B-57 Canberras, the first jet planes to drop bombs during combat. After 1968, the squadron was reformed at RAF Cottesmore, flying Handley Page Victors. The squadron's VC10s have also been used to fly the British Royal Family and top government ministers around the world. Former Prime Minister Tony Blair reverted to the VC10 for sensitive flights, such as during his diplomacy to Pakistan and after the 9/11 attacks.

No. 10's Vickers VC-10 C1 in 1977.
1966-2005.The squadron received 14 new Vickers VC10 C1s, which were named after the airmen who had been awarded the Victoria Cross. No. 10 thereby reverted to air transport at RAF Fairford and then RAF Brize Norton. The C1 flew 1,326 sorties during the Gulf War, carrying 50 bombs weighing 1,000 lbs each for the Tornado GR1 force. It took part in most other operations including the 1982 Falklands War and the 2003 war in Iraq.

2011-present. With the closure of RAF Lyneham and the transfer of the RAF's Hercules force to Brize Norton, No. 10 Squadron has been reformed as the first operator of the new Airbus Voyager.

Monday, September 29, 2014

TIME BOMBER | Robert Wack Speaks in Westminster, Md.


Dr. Robert Wack, Washington, DC pediatrician,
author of Time Bomber (Boissevain Books, 2014)
The Westminster Fallfest weekend, sponsored by the Carroll County (Maryland) Public Library, was a big success, at least based on the modest expectations of Boissevain Books author Robert P. Wack.

We previously reported that Wack spoke at the Westminster library.  He said the speaking event was attended by about 15 people and generated some excellent discussion. The Carroll County Public Library  is continuing to promote the book and they bought several copies.

At the two-day Westminster Fallfest weekend, Wack reports selling 34 copies.

Wack's Banner of the
Book's Cover.
He says that about half were sold to strangers, who were persuaded by the banner (see right), the author's pitch, and their perusal of the cover.

He also talked to several people who said they were going to download the Kindle version from Amazon.

Going forward, Wack has two more events scheduled this fall - appearances before book clubs in October and November. 

Nowadays, books are sold, not bought... and they are sold one copy at a time.

Meanwhile, Richard Peacocke of Ottawa, Canada had some nice words to say about Time Bomber. He posted a 5-star rating on the Amazon listing of the book and had the following to say about the book, which he writes that he tried to post but may not have succeeded:
[Time Bomber is a] [g]ripping narrative of warfare and moral choice, underpinned by a far-reaching mathematical theory about space and time. 
Highlights for me are the authentic scenes in the RAF squadron and gripping episodes in the fields of Normandy. The book weaves together the history of several places and time periods, with inspiration drawn from the real-life Dr. Willem van Stockum. 
There is a great deal of action, but while there is bravery and cowardice, there is little or no glory. The character studies and human experience in wartime ring true. 
All the way through the reader has an uneasy feeling that something unknown and mysterious is occurring. This is based on a soaring mathematical theory, the intricacy of which is touched on, but not laboured over. The theory is based on Dr. van Stockum’s work and allows the protagonist to bridge fiction and reality. 
I couldn’t put the book down.

Friday, September 26, 2014

September 26 - Birthday of George Gershwin, NYC Composer

George Gershwin (1898-1937)
This day in 1898 was born, in Brooklyn, American composer and pianist George Gershwin. Among his best-known works are two orchestral compositions - "Rhapsody in Blue" (1924) and "An American in Paris" (1928) - and the opera "Porgy and Bess" (1935).

Gershwin's father came from a Russian-Lithuanian Jewish family, and his wife Rose was from the same town in Russia. Their first child, Ira, was born December 6, 1896. George (born Jacob) was the second. He became first interested in music when at the age of ten he heard his friend Maxie Rosenzweig play the violin.

George's parents had bought a piano for lessons for his older brother, but to Ira's relief, it was George who learned to play it. Charles Hambitzer was his piano teacher, a conventional musician who until his death in 1918 was George's  mentor.

For four years, George and Ira Gershwin lived at the top of
 33 Riverside Drive in Manhattan. Although their work was
not always immediately appreciated, it is now revered. This
and the next two photos by JT Marlin. 
On leaving school at 15, Gershwin found his first job as a "song plugger" for Jerome H. Remick & Co.  based in New York City's "Tin Pan Alley", earning $15 a week for handing out song sheets. His first published song was "When You Want 'Em, You Can't Get 'Em, When You've Got 'Em, You Don't Want 'Em" (1916). His 1917 novelty rag, "Rialto Ripples" (1919), was a commercial success.

His first big national hit was his song, "Swanee" (1919), with words by Irving Caesar. Al Jolson, the famous black-face Broadway singer, heard Gershwin sing "Swanee" at a party and featured it in his repertoire.  In 1916, Gershwin started recording for Aeolian Company and Standard Music Rolls in New York, producing dozens of rolls.

George and Ira Gershwin taking a break from
table tennis at 33 Riverside Drive.
In the late 1910s, Gershwin met songwriter William Daly, with whom he wrote Broadway musicals -"Piccadilly to Broadway" (1920) and "For Goodness' Sake" (1922), and jointly composed the score for "Our Nell" (1923). In the early 1920s, Gershwin frequently worked with the lyricist Buddy DeSylva, with whom he created the experimental one-act jazz opera "Blue Monday", set in Harlem, a forerunner to "Porgy and Bess".

In 1924, George and Ira Gershwin collaborated on a stage musical comedy "Lady Be Good", which included "Fascinating Rhythm" and "Oh, Lady Be Good!". They followed this with "Oh, Kay!" (1926); "Funny Face" (1927); and "Strike Up the Band" (1927).

 The Gershwin brothers created "Show Girl" (1929); "Girl Crazy" (1930, with Ginger Rogers), which introduced "Embraceable You", "I Got Rhythm", and "Of Thee I Sing" (1931). Gershwin's first major classical work, "Rhapsody in Blue" (1924), for orchestra and piano, was orchestrated by Ferde Grofé. It was his most popular work.

In the mid-1920s, Gershwin stayed in Paris briefly, writing "An American in Paris" (1928), which received mixed reviews but was quickly adopted by musicians.  Gershwin was commissioned by Fox Film to compose the score for the movie "Delicious" (1929); the final film used the five-minute "Dream Sequence" and the six-minute "Manhattan Rhapsody".

George and Ira Gershwin, outside their
apartments at 33 Riverside Drive
Gershwin's most ambitious composition was "Porgy and Bess" (1935), based in all-black Catfish Row in Charleston, S.C. The music combines popular music with black music. Some songs like "Summertime", "I Got Plenty o' Nuttin'" and "It Ain't Necessarily So" have been praised for musical ingenuity. "Porgy and Bess" is now considered one of the most important American operas of the 20th century, but when it did not win immediate success, Gershwin went back to Hollywood, to RKO Pictures, for whom he wrote the jazz music for ballet-type scenes in the film "Shall We Dance" (1937), starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

Early in 1937, Gershwin began to have blinding headaches and the smell of burning rubber, which the Los Angeles hospital he checked into could not explain. Later he fell into a coma and it became clear he had a brain tumor. Dr. Harvey Cushing in Boston recommended Dr. Walter Dandy who was fishing in Chesapeake Bay. Gershwin's condition was judged to be critical, so the L.A. doctors tried and failed to cut out the tumor.  Gershwin died on July 11, 1937, at 38. He received his sole  Academy Award, for Best Original Song, posthumously at the 1937 Oscars for "They Can't Take That Away from Me", written with his brother Ira for "Shall We Dance".

Sunday, September 21, 2014

September 21 - Birthday of H.G. Wells (Father of Sci Fi)

H. G. Wells (1866-1946)
This day was born in 1866, in Bromley, England, writer H[erbert] G[eorge] Wells, father of Futurism and Sci Fi. He was born to shopkeeper parents who were not successful and had to give up their store. Instead, his mother worked as a housekeeper on an estate with a large library, from which she brought books to young H.G. to read. He was sickly as a child and his older sister died in childhood.

He won a scholarship to the Normal School of Science and this set him up for a life writing on scientific themes, with a focus on predicting and envisioning the future.

Wells' first book in the Sci Fi genre was The Time Machine (1895), which was an instant success. It is a look at the human race many millennia from now.  The narrator is called simply "the Time Traveller". The book has been described as a ghost story that takes Darwinian theories and spins them way out into the future.

He followed up with The Island of Doctor Moreau (1896), about an island where a scientist is engaged in what we might call genetic experimentation with animals. An excerpt from Hitchcock's 1938 movie based on The War of the Worlds (1898) was read out by Orson Welles on Halloween two weeks after the movie came out. While it was famously so realistic that listeners who tuned in late were panicked about the purported invasion from outer space, it wasn't considered a success - which prompted Welles to say goodbye to radio and take up movies, starting with the masterpiece,  Citizen Kane (1941).

Wells had a genuine interest in science, which was married to a socialist vision for the future. In The War in the Air (1908), he predicted World War I and use of airplanes to wage war, which came true. His post-Einstein novel The World Set Free (1914) described bombs with successive explosions tied to their radioactivity, which inspired scientific initiatives to achieve a nuclear chain reaction, leading to the atom bomb.

In his nonfiction three-volume History of the World (1920) he predicted that innovations in horseless railway transportation would permit larger cities. Wells is even said to have anticipated the Internet, long before Al Gore or Oxonian Tim Berners-Lee (more formally, Sir Timothy John Berners-Lee, OM, KBE, FRS, FREng, FRSA, DFBCS), when in the 1930s he espoused an encyclopedia that anyone could read and at the same time edit.

The success of his predictions in both his nonfiction and fictional books is something he took great pride in pointing out. In the 1941 edition of The War in the Air, he said in the preface:
[M]y epitaph,... when the time comes, will manifestly have to be: "I told you so. You damned fools."
Wells died in London in 1946, less than one month before his 80th birthday.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

EMILY BOISSEVAIN | Letters from the "Irish Rose among the Tulips"


Emily Heloïse MacDonnell was the dutiful daughter of two prominent  Dubliners – Judge Hercules MacDonnell and Emily Ann Moylan.  

When Charles Boissevain, newspaper editor and publisher, was visiting Dublin to write about a trade fair featuring Dutch products, he became sick and was brought to the MacDonnell home in exurban Dalkey to recuperate.

Emily was entranced by Charles' humor and good spirits and they were married. Like Trojan Aeneas settling in the area that became Rome, inferretque deos Latio (he brought his household gods with him to Latium), Emily brought with her to Holland the household gods of Protestant Dublin. 

Emily was proud of her Anglo-Irish background and spoke English almost exclusively to her 11 children during her long years as Charles' wife. She did learn enough to write a few letters in Dutch, but they are rare. 

After the death of Charles, she lived alone with the family governess, Polly, meeting separately with visitors based on Emily’s higher status. Yet she bonded like a Viking conqueror with the country in which she settled. Emily never traveled alone, and only visited where she had relatives. 

Emily MacDonnell Boissevain’s life and letters reveal much of the culture and concerns of her times, especially the ties between Holland and Indonesia. She traveled sparingly and mostly back to her native country to spend summer weeks in Sligo. Her letters provide a unique cross-cultural window on Britain, Ireland and Holland, with some interesting sidelights on the United States.  The letters especially show how much of Ireland she brought with her to Holland.
Emily’s Father Hercules MacDonnell and His Family

Emily’s family is traced back to Somerled, the first Lord of the Isles in the 12th century (see genealogy).  Her grandfather Rev. Richard MacDonnell was Provost of Trinity College, Dublin.  Her parents were Judge Hercules Henry Graves MacDonnell and Emily Ann Moylan; we have letters from Judge Hercules MacDonnell to his granddaughter Olga.   
Judge Hercules MacDonnell had an even better-known brother, Richard, who became in turn, Britain’s Governor-General (or equivalent) of Gambia, St. Vincent and Lucia, Nova Scotia, South Australia and Hong Kong.  Following that he was knighted and retired to the south of France.  His wife was called Blanche.  Any map of South Australia will show the MacDonnell range of mountains at the northern extremity, named after Richard.  Some ports and rivers are also named after him and his wife.  

The MacDonnell family can be traced back to Alastair Carrach, grandson of the 1st Lord of the Isles in Scotland, who founded the Keppoch branch of the great Clan Donald.  In 1431, part of Keppoch lands were forfeited and given to the MacIntoshes, causing a feud between the MacIntoshes and the MacDonnells of Keppoch.  The MacDonnells were warriors and the 9th chief of the clan, who was exiled for most of his life, served in the Swedish army.  The 12th chief of the clan was murdered along with his brother in 1663.  Coll, the 15th chief of the clan, was noted for his fierceness and was called “Coll of the Cows;” he resisted by the power of the sword MacIntosh attempts to retake his lands.   His son Alexander, the 16th chief, died fighting for the Jacobites at the Battle of Culloden.  At some point the MacDonnells emigrated to Ireland where they became part of the Protestant (Presbyterian or Church of Ireland) ruling gentry.  

The motto of the MacDonnell family was “toujours prêt” (always ready).  In Dutch, a word pronounced like “prêt” means “fun” and this meaning of the word is more descriptive of the flavor of the atmosphere in the home that Emily MacDonnell made with Charles Boissevain.  “Fun” is a good description of the goal of Olga Boissevain, their third daughter, according to her daughter.  Another MacDonnell family motto was “per mare, per terra.”  This has less of an association with “fun” because it was adopted as its motto by the U.S. Marines.
Emily’s Mother Emily Ann Moylan

Hercules MacDonnell was a lawyer (a barrister, arguing in court) when he married Emily Ann Moylan, who was referred to in the press at the time as the niece of Lady Jodrell.  Since his religious father did not approve of the marriage to Miss Moylan (either because she was too young or was not Church of Ireland; the stories do not say), the two eloped to London via Liverpool, whence they traveled via “horseless carriage” on the just-completed railway line connecting the two cities.  They were said to be the first couple in history ever to use the horseless carriage as a vehicle for elopement.  

Coincidentally, Lady Jodrell’s daughter eloped at virtually the same time, because her parents considered her too young to marry, so that the Moylan-Jodrell cousins’ elopements were covered by the press at the same time, as in the clip shown on the previous page.
Emily Héloїse MacDonnell

Emily Héloїse MacDonnell was born in Dublin in June 1, 1844, two years after her husband Charles, who was born in Amsterdam on October 28, 1842.  She grew up in Dublin and Sligo, daughter of Judge Hercules Graves MacDonnell and Emily Ann Moylan, who, as just described, romantically eloped from Dublin to London.

Emily met Charles when he was a young journalist visiting Dublin to cover an international exposition.  While in Dublin, he became ill.  A sponsor of the exposition, Dublin attorney Hercules MacDonnell, invited Charles to recuperate in his home.  His daughter Emily tended to Charles and they fell in love.  Charles returned to Holland with his fiancée, and Emily married Charles Boissevain in Southampton (Woolston?) on June 27, 1867.  For the rest of her life, Emily’s main contact with Ireland seems to have been from visiting her Jameson and Crichton and Phibbs relatives at Sligo Bay in the northwest of Ireland.  She spent most of her life at Drafna in Naarden and died at Het Houten Huis nearby in Blaricum on January 26, 1931, surviving Charles by about four years and the British-born family governess Polly by about two years. 

Robert Boissevain [who left his wife and six children in Holland and emigrated to America to the voiced disapproval of all but his mother] said to his sister Hilda: “ I never feared opening a letter from my mother.  Never were there reproaches in it.”
Emily’s Sayings 

Emily’s bon mots were frequently quoted.  Here is a sample of two:

To Tom and Alfred de Booy, who had been stealing fruit:  “Next time you want to eat the peaches in my orchard ask me beforehand.

To Laurens Boissevain who ran from home to Grannie: “ You ran away because you reasoned about your father and mother, now feel what your heart says.”  (Laurens went back).


MACDONNELL GENEALOGY

Based on a summary prepared by Randal Marlin from published sources on May 24, 2002.

Somerled (1125?-1164)
Founder of the Kingdom of the Isles.  Slain at Renfrew.
Reginald or Ronald or Randal MacSomerled (1158?-1207)
|
Donnell MacRonald (1190?-1249)
Founder of the clan MacDonnell.  Attacked Derry with 70 ships in 1211. 
|
Angus Mor MacDonnell (1268?-1294)=Daughter of Colin Campbell
Died in Isla.
|
Angus Oge MacDonnell (1298?-1326)=Agnes O’Cathan
A.k.a. Ronald, the subject of Sir Walter Scott’s poem “The Lord of the Isles”  Fought at Bannockburn in 1314.  
Died in Isla, buried in Iona.
|
John or Eoin MacDonnell (1320?-1387)=Ami nin Ruarie of Ulster
Was made prisoner at Poitiers in 1356
|
Marcus MacDonnell (1367?-1407?)=
Migrated to Ireland from Scotland.
|
Turlough MacDonnell (1386?-1435)
In 1431 lands of the MacDonnells of Keppoch were given to the MacIntoshes, starting a feud between the families.
|
Carragh MacDonnell (1416?-1466)
Builder of Tynekill.  Slain at Offaly.
|
Turlough Oge MacDonnell (1480?-1540?)
|
Colla or Calva, also called MacTurlough MacDonnell (1510?-1570)
Obtained grant of Tynekill estate from Queen Rlizabeth, including a castle and 1,000 acres of land.  In return had to pay the Queen a head rent and also maintain
 on her behalf heavily armed soldiers called gallowglasses  Was slain at Shrule, Mayo, 1570.  This is the key starting point
 for records.  Corley Boy MacDonnell expressed a common attitude toward the Crown when he accepted a patent for the Glens
 of Antrim and then had a fire built and burned the patent from the end of his sword, saying “By this title I hold my lands.” 
|
Hugh Boy or MacColla MacDonnell (1540-1618)
He was pardoned for his rebel activities in 1600.
|
Fergus MacDonnell (1575-1637)=
|
James MacFergus MacDonnell (1617-1700?)=Margaret
James served as Colonel of the Confederate Catholics.  He got a re-grant of Tynekill in 1637, but forfeited Tynekill four years later, when at the age of only 24 he became a conspicuous rebel leader.  A price of £400 was put on James’s head, plus a free pardon.  James survived, but lost his property.  However, Margaret was allowed by decree of 1664 to live there until she died.
|
Fergus Charles MacDonnell (1660?-1730?)=?
Moved to Wicklow, raised all his children as Protestants despite (or because) his father lost Tynekill by being a rebel Catholic.
|
Charles (“Sorley”) MacDonnell (1691?-1767)=Mary Hall
Charles was a royalist, called his youngest son George after George II.
|
Richard MacDonnell (1729-1805)=Daughter of Captain Sandys
Robert worked as a revenue officer in Cork through his friend Mr. Lowther, MP, “Father of the Irish House of Commons.” 
|
Robert MacDonnell (1764-1821)=Susanna Nugent (1766-1822?)
Robert was a wealthy man until the overthrow of Napoleon ruined him. 
|
Rev. Richard MacDonnell (1787-1867) = Jane Graves (1791?-1882)
Born in Douglas, near Cork.  Married 1810.  Provost of Trinity College, Dublin.  Jane Graves was daughter of the Dean of Ardagh, one of whose descendants was the poet Robert Graves.  They had 14 children.
|
Hercules H. Graves MacDonnell (1819-=Emily Ann Moylan (1822-1883)
Third son of Richard and Jane MacDonnell (older brother Sir Richard Graves was Gov. of Gambia, South Australia, Nova Scotia and Hong Kong; mar. Blanche Anne Skurray).  Was an attorney, Justice of the Peace for County Dublin, Secretary to the Commissioners of Charitable Donations and Bequests for Ireland.  Mar. Emily Ann Moylan in 1842; she was born in Paris.  They had eight children.  
|
Emily MacDonnell (1844-1931)=Charles Boissevain (1842-1927)
[continues with #41 of the Boissevain Genealogy that follows]

BOISSEVAIN GENEALOGY – THE “CARELTJES” 
1. Lucas Boissavin 1660-1705, m. 1700 Marthe Roux
Lucas Bouyssavy of Bergerac, Dordogne, died in 1685, the year Louis XIV revoked Henry IV’s Edict of Nantes.  In about 1895 Lucas Jr., now Boissavin, 
fled to Belgium and Holland. Marthe also fled Bergerac and they were married in Rotterdam September 1, 1700.
|
2. Jérémie Boissevain 1702-1779
|
5. Gédéon Jérémie Boissevain 1741-1808
|
8. Daniel Boissevain 1772-1834
|
17. Gédéon Jérémie Boissevain 1796-1875
_____________________________________________________|__________________________________________________________

Source: Barthold Hubert Boissevain, Stamboek der Boissevains [Genealogy of the Boissevain Family], Amsterdam: Jacob van Campen, 1937, plus updates by JTM.  Numbers for patrilineal descendants are from the Stamboek.  Names of persons mentioned frequently in Dutch letters are underlined.  Names of persons referred to frequently in footnotes to the letters are in bold face

EMILY, MY GRANNY – by HILDA VAN STOCKUM

Emily and Charles.
To me she was always a little, but formidable old lady, who was the heart of her family, adored by husband and children, but a little daunting to the grandchildren, all 50 of them.  Maybe the older ones knew her as a younger woman; I came at the end of the family.  Luckily my grandmother lived long enough for me to get to know and love her, but when I was a child we were always at odds.  I wasn’t Irish looking; I took after my father.  I had few “feminine” qualities.  My grandmother liked to see girls doing needlework, but for me the needles never did anything but prick.  I was a bookworm, which in those days was frowned on, because girls were supposed to be playing and exercising in the fresh air to get nice complexions.  But I was too fascinated by the bound volumes of the “children’s corner” of my grandfather’s newspaper, and could not wait to read the next installment of the current adventure story.  
I was introverted in those days, and found it difficult to make conversation with my Granny, who spoke Dutch with an accent.  I was my grandfather’s favorite, and was placed beside him at table.  He encouraged me to write verses and stories and declared I’d inherited his talents.  But the great attraction I felt for him was because of his naughtiness.  He was always doing forbidden things: putting marmalade and cheese on the same piece of bread and then declaring with a naughty twinkle and a sigh of satisfaction, after consuming this concoction: “It was just as if an angel peed on my tongue.”  That’s the sort of thing I loved Grandfather for.  Granny wasn’t angry.  She laughed, but we weren’t allowed to imitate him.  I don’t think my Grandfather ever knew that my Granny ruled him.  She was so full of deference and respect!
He met her in Ireland where he had gone as a young and handsome reporter for the little commercial paper, which employed him (as he worked his way up he made it into the most important Dutch daily newspaper).  He reported some trade event, on the lines of the modern expos, and probably it included the annual horseshow.  My great-grandfather Hercules MacDonnell invited him to stay at his home, Sorrento Cottage, in Dalkey, where he met the numerous family.  The oldest girl, Emily Héloïse, was strikingly beautiful.  As it happened, my grandfather got ill, and he was nursed by my great-grandmother and her daughter Emily.  Perhaps it was not surprising that my grandfather fell in love with the charming young nurse.  At any rate, married they were.  
I asked my Granny once what made her marry a foreigner like that.  Wasn’t it a big step for her to take?  “Oh,” she said, “he made me laugh so much I hadn’t the breath to say ‘no’.”
My grandmother had had a glorious youth in Ireland.  My grandfather wrote a poem about her, in which he describes how she jumped from the rocks into the sea and rode bareback on her pony.  She herself wrote my mother about her teen years and all her admirers.  With one she went for walks, with another she practiced archery.  One she always met accidentally on her way to church and with one she went to visit the poor.  But she did not like that much [visiting the poor], she added.  She must have missed all that freedom later.
They were married in London and there is a legend that they quarreled after they left the church, because my grandfather claimed her arm, as was his right as a husband in Holland.  But Granny acknowledged no such right and refused to allow anything so immodest.
So the Irish rose was transplanted among the stiff Dutch tulips, and not without friction.  She did everything wrong… and as the Boissevain family consisted of endless cousins, aunts, uncles and great-aunts, their disapproval made a big noise.  In those days the activities in Holland of a proper lady were greatly restricted.  You could not go out in the mornings because then the domestic servants did the shopping and it would be awkward to meet them.  You can imagine the horror the family felt when they saw Charles’s wild Irish wife out at eleven in the morning, skating on the canals arm in arm with her cook.
However, nature soon put an end to these exploits.  My Granny presented my grandfather with eleven children: five boys and six girls, one more clever and handsome than the other.  She acquired a Yorkshire nanny called Polly, who became such a member of the family that she stayed with them till her death.  And she made the clothes of the children and grandchildren out of the then so-popular Liberty cottons.
There must have been lean years, but my grandfather describes his home life in these words: “I am always struck anew by the intimacy of our family life: I see the family sitting by lamplight, in the room with red drapes, grouped around their mother, who is their spring of action, their source of love.”  It’s a vivid picture by a fond family man.  He was so proud of his family he kept theirs photographs in his pocket to show at the drop of a hat.  He was nicknamed “The Kangaroo”.  Once he visited a Turkish Emir and boasted of his eleven children.  “That’s nothing”, said the Amir, “I have 26.”  “Ah, that is a large number,” said my grandfather, impressed, “but I have only one wife!”  It was the Emir’s turn to be very impressed.
There are charming letters of my grandmother to my grandfather, which tell of her difficulty with such a large family.  One problem was the noise at table when they all talked at once, and the dreadful stillness when no one talked.  She tried to let them talk one by one, but only Mary, the oldest girl, responded and in the end she gave up: rather the noise than the silence.
And on another occasion she had to punish her second son Alfred for teasing the little girls, and she locked him in a room.  He kicked and kicked at the door till he kicked out a panel.  Then he stuck his handsome head through the opening and cried:  “I didn’t do it, Mother, I didn’t do it!”  She writes that it was difficult for her not to laugh.
Yes, we get the feeling of an Irish household rather than a staid Dutch one.  Once my uncle Alfred had a serious quarrel with his wife.  He had been given a little inheritance and he proposed to give his wife half for new slipcovers and with the other half they would go to Paris and have fun.  Aunt Mies was aghast.  To spend money for fun when they needed new sheets as well was wicked.  She went and complained to her friend, my mother.  “You are suffering from different religions,” said my mother.
“What do you mean?”  They both belonged to the Walloon church (rather like the Anglican).  “Yes,” said my mother, “you were brought up to feel that in order to be a virtuous spouse and housewife you must think first of the necessities of your home, and last of all of your own enjoyment.”  “That is truth,” said aunt Mies seriously.  “So my brother is very fair,” said my mother.  “He gives you half for your religion.  But he, on the other hand, was brought up to think that the one thing we must do is to enjoy ourselves in the beautiful world God has created for us, and that the last thing we should do is to bore ourselves with necessities.”  Aunt Mies looked at my Granny and thought, and then agreed: “That is true too,” she said.  “Therefore,” said my mother, “aren’t you a little mean not to enter into his religion while he generously enters into yours?”  They had a wonderful time in Paris.
My Granny was always ready for a lark.  She went to football matches to see her boys play, and later, when they were young men, she’d sit up with them talking and drinking whisky till late at night.  Her husband’s numerous admiring females did not bother her at all.  “Isn’t it time you wrote to your Scottish Thistle?” she’d ask, “Who was that?” grandfather would ask.  “Oh, how shameful of you Charlie, have you already forgotten her?”  
Her morals were very broad too.  She wanted my grandfather to smuggle wine to her relatives in London and Ireland.  My grandfather said he could not do it.  He was known everywhere to be an honest man, he could not let himself down.
“Nonsense,” said my Granny.  It’s just because they trust you that you can smuggle so easily”.  My grandfather remained adamant.  But the next time he crossed the North Sea and was bowed past the customs with by deferential officials he opened his suitcase in his hotel room and right on top, without any attempt to hide them, lay a row of bottles.  I don’t know what happened to my Granny, but she survived.
My Granny did not believe in illness.  If her children chose to succumb to such an indignity, she did not cosset them – that would only encourage them to be ill again.  Many a weary day did my mother lie in bed, unattended, with a raging appendicitis [breaks off here]. 
EMILY’S LETTERS (1907-1910)
Emily to Olga from Drafna, July 25, 1907
Drafna, Naarden
Thursday, July 25, 1907
Dearest Olga,
I am awfully sorry you are not coming on Saturday, Hilda was so looking forward to being here with you.  However I’ll try & keep her here till the following Saturday.  I enclose you Gordhart’s letter, for which many thanks.  As you are not coming here yet, I send you a basket of vegetables, salad is our largest commodity at present.
I had to laugh at your being anxious about Bram became he was a few hours late, mercy on us, how will you come through life, & how will you nurse a baby?  Every time you are anxious or worried will mean pain to the poor little child.  So you will have to get yourself in order before that time, you had better tell Bram to stay away unexpectedly very often, & then you’ll get accustomed to it.  And then if you only knew how angry it makes a man to think that there is continual supervision over him.  And if an accident happened you’d be one of the first to hear it.  
And isn’t it stupid to worry about troubles before they are there.  It is so un-philosophical.  
Forgive me going on about this, but I can’t help it, I feel so strongly about it, & as I know those emotions are so bad for you, I am sure you will do your best to keep calm, & don’t be angry with me for my tirade! 
Kathleen leaves us on Sunday I am sorry to say.  When you come here, bring your clothes with you for Polly to alter.
With fond love, 
Ever yr. loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, July 29, 1907
Drafna, Naarden
Monday, July 29th [1907]
Dearest Olga,
I wonder when you will be coming here?  It seems a sin to have that cottage empty all this time.  Polly told me to tell you that if you send her the material she can make the blouse she promised you now.  Kathleen left us yesterday, & we are sorry she has gone.  Nella went with her, but will be home in a fortnight.  And at the last minute Robert decided to go also, as far as London, but I believe he will go to Gliffars, he has still a few days holiday.
Flevo is upset, all their summer plans are upset, for Henk has “her examen” in Trigonometry & “Wutbrunde” on the 1st of September, so has to work hard till then, & he & Em & Alfie were to have started next Monday for the Glen, and on the 15th to have met their father in London, & gone with him a boating excursion on the Thames, which Cor cannot do without Henk, as he wants help with the rowing, & Em & Alfie can’t go alone to Ireland.  But nothing will matter if only Henk can pass, but it is so difficult to find anyone to work with him [─] everyone is away on holidays and he must have help, for he has had “onvooldvench” for those “vakken” the whole year.
Sissie Cruijs has passed her exam out of the H.G.S. & was No 1.  We saw the little boy van Hamel and the niece the other day, & I promised to fetch him here one day this week, and bring him home in the donkey carriage.  We were driving past the house and he recognized us.  I’ll send you more vegetables tomorrow or next day.
Best love from yr. loving mother
I’ll look for your Balzacs.  I don’t recollect exactly how the currie was made, but when you are here, I’ll try and tell you.
1908: Emily to Olga from Drafna, May 6, 1908 [?] [Beginning fragment]
Drafna, Naarden
Friday, May 6th, 1908 [?]
Dearest Olga,
You are down in the depths!  But that is nothing, when you are a couple of months further all will be different. The first 3 or 4 months are always bad, & it is a pity for you that Bram has to be away from you now.  I am sorry to hear that your stomach is out of order, for that means that you can take little food, & I know the doctor will want to feed you up.  But your own sense will tell you that it is no good taking food you cannot digest.  Try a warm milk diet, small quantities at a time.  Only you, yourself can find out what you can best take.  But one thing I must tell you, and that is that lying in a room, even close to an open window is not at all the same as being in the open air, even a balcony is not as good.
To heal your lung you must breathe the pure fresh air, & your window wide open at night, & plenty of blankets if it is cold.  It is a bother that you are in the family way, for of course it makes it more difficult to heal the lung, and that is the first thing you have to think of now.  Have a little patience, and you’ll find after a couple of months you’ll begin to feel more cheerful about yourself.
I saw enclosed advertisement in the D. O. H. and thought it might be something for you, if your sister in law has to go away in June, for you’ll want somebody then to look after you & the baby & the house, I can write to her & see her if you like.  
I am glad you like the caps, & I am sure your… [unfinished fragment]
Emily to Olga from Drafna, May 8, 1908
Drafna, Naarden
Friday, May 8, 1908
Dearest Olga,
I wish I could picture you somewhere!  For of course I have not a notion where you are, and it is so hard to write before I know something about you.  It is a week yesterday since we got your telegram from Padang so in a little more than a fortnight, I’ll be getting a letter from you, telling us where you are, and all about you and the baby.
You will have [heard] of the birth of Teau’s & Rosie’s babies, within 24 hours of each other, but Teau won the race!  She followed your example in an easy confinement, everything went so beautifully and the doctor was not half an hour in the house before the child was born, & now the nursing goes splendidly.  On Sunday she will be down stairs, I went to stay with her the first ten days, but came back yesterday, as four of Hessie’s children are here, and want a lot of minding, nurse is completely [occupied] for Eugen, so Nella had her hands full.
I had long promised to go to Teau when her child was born, but then when Hessie’s children came, I decided I wouldn’t go, but Teau was so disappointed, and said she felt so lonely with only a strange woman about her, and she looked so pathetically at me that I succumbed!  Her child is really very like yours, a nice little round head, lots of black hair, dark eyes, eyebrows and eyelashes, a nice little mouth and beautiful little ears.  Rosie’s child is just like all her others, it is a larger child than Teau’s but of course pretty.  I have let Drafna for three months July, August and September, and Nella & I will go for the month of July to Zandvoort and take Johnnie with us, Hessie was in a way how she would get him to the sea side, so I settled that plan, we haven’t yet decided what we’ll do in August and September.
Polly will go first to Teau & Hessie & then to England for 6 weeks.  So those are the Drafna plans as far as we know them.  Emile will be the “bruidgrus” [?] on Tuesday next the 12th and marries on the 27th.  Nuvya was married last week on the 29th in London, I was sorry not to go to it, for I would have seen them all, but Teau kept us so long waiting.  I haven’t yet got accustomed to the idea of your being in India, it seems so strange to me that I cannot believe it, everything was decided so suddenly.  With father [it] is different[,] he is coming home so soon, but you are beginning a new life out there, and your little child growing up without knowing any of us, and other children perhaps coming, so if you don’t write me everything you do, I’ll feel quite out of your life.  And write me all you know of Bram, and how often you see him, every little derail is interesting.
Hilda will tell you all about her trip to Paris.  Everything went off beautifully.  Tomorrow I dine at Charles & Marie’s, it is his birthday, 40 years of age!  I can scarcely believe it.  
I direct this letter to Bram, because I suppose that is the best way of your getting it.  Mind write to me, if you know how I am longing to hear all about you.
Fondest love from yr. loving mother

Emily to Olga, from Drafna, June 4 [1908]
The following letters are sources for Chapter 1 of a book I am writing: The Boissevain Family in the Dutch Resistance, 1940-45

Drafna, Naarden
Thursday, June 4 [1908]
Dearest Olga,
I cannot say how happy I feel!  I knew you were happy with Bram & your baby, but now your letters tell me of content & satisfaction and a sort of feeling of being ready to like & make the best of everything, & then to know that you feel so well, & that baby goes on so splendidly, indeed I am thankful.  Your descriptions of the arrival in Padang & your reception by Jo and tante Da, & the account of their houses was simply lovely.  I never got such a good idea of India before.
How nice and kind tante Da is for you, just her old self, giving, giving.  And now you have got this nice invitation from the Valettes so I suppose you will be there now.  I an so glad you were able to nurse baby entirely yourself, without any bottle, & I hope you will be able to go on till she is 9 or 10 months old.
Father said he was going to look out for a baboe for you, and that will be a help for you, & I know they are not expensive.
Nella was so touching by your writing to her, she was so happy with her little Godchild.  Teau is perfectly happy, and is a splendid nurse, all goes beautifully.  She had a most easy confinement, I think I told you in another letter all that was to be told, but it is so hard to know what I have, & have not written, specially as I have you & father to write to, & of course both of you want to know pretty much the same things.
Fik is so busy getting ready for his promotion, that they can’t come down to stay here, which is a great disappointment to both parties, but Teau does not like to leave him, & I think she is right.  His promotic is fixed for the 8th of July, and he & Teau have lovely plans for next year, and they are taking shape.  Prof. Weber wants him to come and help him with his book that he is writing, & to do that he must go live near them, as Weber has a laboratorium and that is at Eerbeek in Geldesland, and Schoonpoe has had a talk with him about it, and he will buy some ground and build a house there for them.  Teau is out of her mind with delight, and next month she and Schoonpoe go down to choose a site for the house.  She hates living in Amsterdam.  So that is all the news about Teau.
Mary is back from Baden, & says her knee is ever so much better, and she must know it best, but she looks weak, but is as full of energy as ever, and last Sunday sang in the Groote Kerk in Naarden, & Hessie who was there said it sounded excessively well, and her voice quite strong.  Charles and Marie are in London for a week enjoying themselves, going to operas & theatres, & seeing the latest new things.  That is something that Dutch people don’t understand -- going away from your business for a week’s pleasure.
Robert is back from his walking tour in the Schwartjwald, & is now at his new work, & so happy that he has done with the banking business, & looking forward to being sent this autumn to the West for three months.  That will be a grand holiday for him!  Marie and her baby are well.  They come down to Flevo tomorrow for the “Pinkster dagen.”  Hilda & her family come to us.  We brought the van Halletjes home yesterday to Hattem to the new cottage where Hessie is now settled, and she will certainly be there a year, for the new house will only be began next week, and could not be dry for them by the winter.  But they are most comfortable quite enough room, & a lovely dry spot in the middle of pinewoods & heather, & Hessie is so happy.
Johnnie has gone to Zandvoort with Robert’s children, & will stay there two months, the first plan was that Nella and I would go with him there in July, but I am happy to say that is not necessary.  Nella & I are now going to London on the 18th and we go to see the matron of an Hospital there that Hercules recommended, for Nella to go as sick nurse, & before she could make an application, she must have a personal interview.  She has not yet decided where she will go, for we are also going to see some place in Zurich that Miemke de Vries recommends.  And most probably this summer I will go with her to some place in Switzerland to see what can be done for her rheumatism, we have to be roofless for three months, so we can go where we like and do what we like, the only compensation for the home being broken up.
Robert and Rosie have let their house in the van Eeghen straat and taken one in the Koningsinne weg, a very nice one, quite large enough and only f700 a year.  I sent your letter to Mia, & she was so happy to read, I am now going to send you two letters to Aunt Minnie and Auntie Fan, I know how they will love it.  Tell me in a private bit, whenever you hear anything from Andy Jameson, & also all about your money affairs, everything about you & Bram & the baby will interest me, so you need never puzzle your head as to what you’ll write, & if you haven’t much time, then send a post card.  I’ll try and keep you up with the family, but I cannot get through them all in one letter!
With fondest love 
Ever yr. loving mother

Emily in Switzerland to Olga in Java, August 3, 1908
Monday, August 3, 1908
Pension Hopp [Kopp?], St. Moritz, Switzerland 
Dearest Olga,
I hope by this time that you are better, for the last few letters, you haven’t been feeling well.  Hildasays it may be that you are acclimating, but it also may be that you are in the family way, & for baby’s sake I hope that will not happen yet.  It would be a pity if you had to wean her before she was a few months older.  Here it would be nothing, but in Ind[ones]ia it is so hard to get good milk & milk is absolutely necessary for a child under the year, & indeed till they are two years old it must be the principal food.
I think Hilda and Moni [Koni?] each had a cow for their children, I know it is very expensive, but if you can manage it at all, I would look on it as a necessary expense, you must make enquiries about it.  I fancy you three have had what we would call here an influenza, I did not think it existed in Ind[ones]ia, but that would be a reason for you feeling weak a long time afterwards.
You are more than good about writing to me, I get a letter every week, and also what you write is so delightful, you tell me everything about you & Bram and baby, & I can picture your daily life and can understand how happy you must be while Bram is with you.  I don’t believe in Soerabaya being the healthiest spot for you to live in, & was glad you were going to a cooler place when Bram was away.  And then to Madoera, I don’t know anything about that, & have no map here to show me where it is, but is it not an island or an island near Soerabaya? 
I am delighted Bram is busy drawing the “Gastroscope,” I heard about it from Willem and I asked him to send it to me for Hercules, for I am sure he would like to know all about it, & Willem told me he had not got it yet, but that was some time ago.  
I am sure Jan will miss you very much when you leave Soerabaya, even though he may not see much of you.  He must have had a very lovely time those first years he was in Ind[ones]ia.  I have put by post from Gorringe two Enzock “Tidies”, which are the same pattern as the flannel ones that I used to have, you put them over a napkin, also two little bodices. I told them to send them as thin as possible for Indian wear, & if you put two buttons at the sides, then fasten the “Tidies” in that way to the bodice, it is much nicer than [?]rings, & you need not use any safety pins.  I have also sent you two pinafores and two little low dresses, which I hope will fit and which I hope are the right pattern.  Till I get home I cannot see Jan’s picture, so do not know exactly what dress he had on when it was taken. But mind tell me if the dresses fit, & if the other things are not you want, when once we are home I can easily get Polly to make you what you want, but then you must let me know, perhaps Gorringe may enclose the bill to you, but if he does, then send it back to me.  I suppose baby will be soon getting a tooth, when she is about 7 or 8 months.  I hope your money affairs are all right.  Did you ever anything more from J?  We are expecting him and Harrie here next week.
Fancy Harrie is engaged to be married, she at last made up her mind to accept a young officer a Mr. Kirkwood, who seems to be very much in love with her, she met him last year for the first, & saw a great deal of him, but couldn’t make up her mind, & he went on to India, but came back a few months ago, & she saw more of him, and a couple of weeks ago accepted him & he returned to India last week, and comes back next year to marry her.  But she has not told her parents yet, and they know nothing of it, however when she gets here, she intends telling her father.  Only she does not want her mother to be meddling about it, she is such a disagreeable woman, and always specially nasty to Harrie.
We see a good dial of Violet and tante Lisette who are at the Hulm [Kulm?], which is not far from us.  This Pension is very good, but I can’t say I like pension life, I prefer an hotel, but then that would be too expensive for us, & I must say we don’t trouble ourselves much about the people in the house, for we are out all day, & don’t speak to anyone at meal times, & after supper in the evening, we take our books.  I am sure they all hate us, for keeping so apart, but I can’t stand those Germans & I am sick of their language, so I pretend I don’t understand them!
Nella is very satisfied with her masseuse, who is rubbing away all her gouty lumps, if I really think it is necessary I will let her go to Groddack for a month, but perhaps he would allow her to live with me in a pension in Baden, while he treats her.
Charles is here now, being treated for his knee.  Valhenburg is engaged to be married to a Miss Foekema.  I feel quite content that he is not my son in law!  My girls deserve a better sort.
Fondest love from yr loving mother.

Emily to Olga from Drafna, November 29, 1908 [?]
Drafna, Naarden
Monday, November 29
Dearest Olga,
I missed writing to you last week.  I hope you were not very disappointed.  And you are so good about writing to me.  Now I have just got your letter of the 1st of November.  I am so glad you are more comfortably settled, & hope you won’t economize too much in your food, your health comes above everything.
It would be lovely if you were able to have your own house while Teau was with you, and she will be able then to tell me everything about it.  I am glad father sent you a little bit of money, for it will help towards the extra expenses while Teau is with you.  Oh! how I am longing for the letters telling me everything about you and little Hilda, & Bram, & also to hear about the talks you have had, and whether Jan was with you, and what is settled about Edmée.  I hope he has put an end to that engagement.  Mind you send us a telegram if that is the case, father will repay you.
I sent Teau the copies of the correspondence between us, and the mother, and Edmée.  She will have shown them to you of course.  We got a letter today from Teau written after she had been to Colombo.  I suppose posted in Sabang, or Singapore.  She was enjoying her journey immensely.  Her baby is the joy of the house here and so well.
I saw in the D. O. H. [Handelsblad] an article from the “Necheland” written by H. E. v A. asking why they don’t make their own torpedoes in Holland.  I suppose Erwin is the writer.  Wouldn’t it be a good thing for Bram if they did so?  He might come at the head of it.
Eugen was over with us yesterday for a day, and went back last night to Hamburg.  Hessie is home again, & went down to see her on Friday, & it was a real happiness to see her at the head of her house again, singing and dancing with her children, and taking care of them all, and she looks so well.
Eugentjie is improving, and looks first rate, and is now allowed to walk about for five minutes every day.  Freddie is a darling boy, & so happy to have his mother back again, & Jan was getting so fearfully unhappy, there was no getting a word from him, but that will get better now that Hessie is home.  
Yes, I am happy that you are with Bram, & though it is lonely for you to be five days alone, still it makes all the difference to him that he can be with you every week for a couple of days.  So I hope yours and Hilda’s health will remain all right in Lawang till you leave it in December next year. 
My fond love to Bram and kisses for Hilda from yr. loving mother
1909: Emily to Olga from Drafna, January 19, 1909
Tuesday, January 19 [1909]
Dearest Olga,
I got your letter of the 18th & 21st this morning so I heard baby was better at the same time that I heard she had been ill.  I am so sorry for you, but I suppose it was the remains of the illness that she had while she was at Nering Bogel’s.  I have got her photo, and I am more than delighted with it, she is a little beauty, & looks so clever & healthy.  Of course every one knows a photo cannot do justice to a child, the perpetual movement and coloring and expression are wanting, but I am quite satisfied with this photo.  I told Hilda about your baboe having given the child wrong things to eat, & she says you cannot trust one of them, that is why she had to get a juffrouw for the children.  They are just a degree better!
What Bram says about drinking milk from a bottle is true for a little infant, but a child of Hilda’s age drinks slower out of a cup than out of a bottle, & it is easier to keep the cup clean.  I suppose you will have weaned it by this time, for when you get this letter it will be a year old. 
Father hasn’t been yet to see Mevrouw van Stockum, but I’ll manage that he goes soon, I never thought about it, though I had fully intended going myself next week, when I will be in town.  Father and I go to the Amstel Hotel on Monday next for a month, and Nella goes to Teau.
I don’t think I wrote yet to thank you for having told me what you think about Jan’s health.  I am so glad I know a little more about him.  His letters to Edmée & to us only tell us that he is perfectly well, and feels strong.  I am helpless for I do not dare to let out to anyone, that you told me about his health, I wouldn’t for anything [want it to get back to him so] that he got to know it so I didn’t even tell father.  I am afraid there is not much chance of his getting over here, though I know Edmée has a faint hope of it.  But I heard through her this morning that Stemberg, the man whom he disliked, & who worked so against him in the office, has been sent to another “afdeeling” so Jan won’t be bothered with him any more, & if he is happier at his work, & [knows] that he has a prospect of marrying not too far off, that will act beneficially on his health.  It would be too good to think of his getting anything to do here in Europe.  I feel so sure that in the end he will have to come back her, I cannot believe in Ind[ones]ia agreeing with him.  But father won’t allow me to say so, that is why I know it is no good saying anything to father.  But you needn’t be afraid of writing whatever you like to me.  It is so much nicer to know that you open your heart to me. 
I hear that Mr. Thompson is going to Europe, & Rose[?] coming in his place.  That is also nicer for Jan, isn’t it?  I am bringing little Hilda home on Friday, she has been here now three [weeks?].  Cabeth is here now also, she was so delicate after the measles that I got her here for three weeks.  Groddiek is in Amsterdam for four days, & Mary & Cor have gone to the Amstel Hotel for that time, as they wanted to go to theatres &c with him.  He dined at Flevo on Saturday with Han and Hilda, Fik & Teau and the Prest & Walla.  The poor Prest, I don’t think he was edified by him.  Mary had an idea that they were kindred souls!  Nella & I have kept out of his way, though I am really grateful to him, for what he has done for Nella’s rheumatism & her fat.  She is nearly 10 kilos lighter than she was last winter, & is strong and healthy and able to do everything with her hands now, she can bike and play the organ, & cut bread and carry parcels, in fact, I never have to consider her hands now, & he has done her morally no harm, but “forewarned is forearmed”.
Hessie will be moving into her new house the week after next.  I will be glad when she is settled there.  The winter is passing on well with Eugentje had a slight attack of croupy cough, but is all right again, & the others have remained all so well, & look different creatures from when they were in Frankhuis.  Hessie herself isn’t so very strong, but that is the result of overtiring herself last summer.  She tried to do without nurses, and had one child of a year that couldn’t walk, another invalid child that mightn’t walk, & four healthy spoilt ones who kept her busy morning and night, and only one servant.  Result was a breakdown, & now a nurse, a Juf, a governess, 3 servants, one child away here, & Freddie going to school, so now she can have rest for a little.  
The other day little Hilda said she was going to have 14 children when she married, but “I want to be very healthy and strong so I am going to get 14 verpleegsters [nurses] to mind them for fear I would overtire myself.”  She speaks from experience!  But Hessie is not severe enough with her children, and they get too much for anyone. 
Mind tell me always all you can about your money affairs and whether you got money from Mr. J[ameson].  I was awfully sorry to hear about the disappointment of Bram not coming for Xmas.  But how nice for you if he can remain with you till June.
Fondest love from yr loving mother
I am so glad I have baby’s [Hilda’s] photo, I can picture her now to myself.
Emily to Olga from Amsterdam, January 26, 1909
Amstel Hotel, Amsterdam
26th January, 1909
Dearest Olga,
I got your letter of the 29th of December yesterday, when I was just leaving for Amsterdam, we are going to stay here for a month.  It was so nice hearing about your Xmas, especially as those exchange[s] of telegrams made us know all about each other then, & Xmas is only a month gone.  Of course we thought Bram had by some chance turned up at the last moment, & we were all so happy for you.  Your description of baby at the Xmas tree, was exactly as Teau’s was at our tree, stretching out her little arms to the lights, & screaming with pleasure.
I am glad you are going to wean the child, & I would throw away all the bottles when she is a year old, she must learn to eat and drink properly, and the stomach must get gradually accustomed to solid food, and not only fluid.  But I cannot possibly prescribe what food.  Teau’s baby gets now porridge (though a sieve) in the morning, and a boterham & milk out of a cup.  At ten she gets a “pap” of Mellin’s food, at one she gets a plate with a potatoe mashed, with some carrots, or spinach through it, and a little gravy.  At four she gets a little bouillon with rice, or biscuit, or bread in it, and at six she gets another “pap” of Mellin’s food, and then sleeps from seven till seven, & when she wakes in the morning she gets a crust of bread with a cup of milk.  The bouillon is made from one ounce of tralfo oleisch & a breakfast cup & a half of cold water and a very little salt, & put down to come to a boil & then simmer for a couple of hours till the meat is nearly a pap, so soft, then through a sieve, & there remains over about a breakfast cup full, & that is for two days but Teau’s baby is now only 9 months old, as they get older they get more.  We always made the bouillon for the babies in the nursery, on the “theistoof.”  Teau only weaned her baby a month ago, and she got her fist bouillon at Drafna, & loved it & when she went home, Teau’s cook (your Saarlje) made it so badly that the baby refused to take it, & Teau had to put an egg in it to make her take it.  Babies know so well when a thing is to their taste! 
Jan will have certainly told you that there is a small chance of Fik and Teau going to Java in October for several months, & they would leave the baby with me.  It is a great secret yet, as it is not quite decided.  He would be going for vischery onderyock [fishery exploration] and they would be travelling about to all the different islands.  I wonder where you will be then, where do you think.  You can fancy how excited Teau is about it, it would be lovely for her.
Hancy Stark the dentist is in Java, he heard that Father lost his rheumatism in the last, and he had been suffering fearfully from it for some months, so he went, & arrived in Batavia cured!  He took his dentist’s chair & instruments with him, & if he came short of money would begin a practice, so if he comes to Soerabaya, I advise you go to him, and make a [p. 2, on Amstel Hotel letterhead] bargain beforehand; he’ll never ask you a high price for father’s sake, & “auld lang syne.”  
Cor de Vos is going to marry a young dentist in Hilversum, 10 yrs. younger than herself, she is 36, & her eldest sister, the married one (divorced) is going to marry the brother (also a dentist & 14 years younger than herself).  
Groddeck has come & gone, & father & Nella never laid eyes on him though he was five days in Amsterdam.  Father goes today to see Mevrouw van Stockum.  He didn’t know she was in Amsterdam, or he would have gone sooner.  He has written to Bals.  Did you know that Dr. van Stockum’s son is in London at the Shipping Department of Eugen’s office?  He told me he would be nice to him for your sake.
I have got quite a tender feeling for Edmee, & I really believe she is fond of Jan, & if she had only been brought up differently, but to live with a vulgar snob (as the mother) must have had some effect on her, but she is young enough to come under good influences, she would see how her eyes were opened [?] by the few days in contact with our girls, the reality, truth, unselfishness, general love, mutual admiration, fearlessness of opinions, I mean, not afraid to say what they thought of themselves & others, and never posing, it was all a revelation for her.  She was very quiet, but happy.  I am so glad that I am able to say truly that I like her.  But I could see that she was accustomed to “pose” and to be the central figure.
Ever yr. loving mother 
Emily to Olga from Drafna, March 22, [1909]
Monday, March 22, 1909 [Day matches date.]
Dearest Olga,
On Saturday I sent off four dresses for you by the Oranje” and two pr. of drawers for baby with pattern, I think they will be the right length for her now, but as she grows taller you make the “pijpen” longer. When they are so small it is ugly to have “pijpen”.  Your dresses are two white piqués and two white muslins, the pattern is from two dresses of Mary, & I got Polly to make what I thought you wanted, but under the muslin, you’ll have to wear a petticoat, I think Annatje gave you some, made all in one. 
The little jacket must be fastened with a broach & safety pins, or a tie in front, but I left the neck bare, for I think that prettier than a high neck without a band or collar, and if you want your neck covered you can always wear a shirt or blouse underneath.  If these fit you, and you like the pattern, then in September I will send you four more.
It was awfully hard to understand what you wanted, but I think them very pretty, and fit for wearing in the daytime.  Teau tried them on, and they looked so nice on her.  I hope you are not getting too thin.  I have just got your letter about Jan.  If I had got it a day sooner, I could have had a talk with Eugen about him, for Eugen has been with us the last week.  He got influenza and the doctor in London told him to go away for a change, so he came here, & Harrie & Violet were with us on their way home from St. Moritz, so we have been having a grand time.
Eugen doesn’t change, he is as full of life as ever, and where he is, he finds happiness, and livens up those around him.  He has improved in many ways, is more considerate, and takes life a little more earnestly, & has more pleasure in reading and intellectual conversation.  He has such a chivalrous nature, there is something grand & noble in it.  He has nothing mean or small about, he has a large and liberal view on the actions of everyone, though being young (especially so for his years) he often condemns & takes too one-sided a view, but he is improving in that way.  He is completely natural and truthful.  Like all my children he is developing late.  I am awfully fond of him, & I love the way he admires and believes in Father.  I am so happy that he & Jan write to each other again.  I believe that is since he is now convinced that Jan is not in love with Loulric.  I know he thought it still a year ago.
Good bye love.  Mind tell me exactly about the dresses.
Ever yr. loving Mother

Emily to Olga from Drafna, April 22, 1909 [?}
Friday, April 22 [1909]
Dearest Olga,
Your mother wrote me such a nice letter, to put my mind at rest about you, & saying what care they would take of you, & look after your food, & not let Hilda be a trouble to you, it was just sweet of her.  She said that if Hilda had come to us you would have fretted too much after her.  And she tells me you have got a little servant for her, so that will be a help to you.
Have you yet got any of the letters from Lawang?  I wrote to Jan to make enquiries about them, because the little dress I made for Hilda ought to have arrived, & I directed one letter to Teau to Lawang, thinking she would be with you, & now she was in Soerabaya, & so got no letter that mail from me.
Mind when you write next to me tell me something about your health.  Have you still verhooging?  Are you in the family way?  Is Bram coming to see us?
Fondest love from yr. loving mother

Emily to Olga, End Fragment, May [?] 1909 [?]
Drafna, Naarden [p. 2.]
Next Monday she gives a large children’s party in the small “zaal” of the Concertgebouw, & pas and mas and friends may come also, & there is a man to play the piano for dancing & Eugen is going to show the “toover [?] lantern”, & father has made a “stukje” for Cateau de Booy to act, & everyone intends to have great fun.
I expect Eugen here on Thursday.  And Hilda & Han & family, & Charles & Marie come to us on Friday.  We are going to have a tiny tree for baby Nella, on the hall table, & I will leave it there all Xmas time & we will light it every evening.  You will certainly have one also.
Best love from yr. loving mother

Emily to Olga, End Fragment, June [?] 1909 [?]
Hotel Englischer Hof, Baden-Baden
p. 2
[In a letter I?] had from father he told me of the [how] disappointed they all had [been] about not being able to go on the trip with Bram, it was too bad.  And now I wonder were you luckier, & and if you & baby went, & how it agreed with you, I am longing to hear all about it.
There was a report in Amsterdam that Jan’s engagement was broken off.  We traced [it] to Talitta Voute (Holtzman) in all probability, but Ind[ones]ia is an awful place for “praatjis” I daresay it begin when people heard that Mrs. de la V. was going to Europe with her daughter, & they concluded that this trip would end in the same way as the last!  I daresay it is nothing Mrs. de la V. would like better.  I have been hearing about her from people who knew her while in Ind[ones]ia, & they say she is an aanstellerij mensh, with a difficult temper, and then they shrug their shoulders and say “she is a Couper”.  And they say the scandal about the eldest daughter’s first marriage was entirely her fault.  I hope to Heavens Jan and Edmée will be able to live far away from her the first couple of years.  I wouldn’t give up the thought of seeing Jan soon, only for the sake of that.
Now good bye.  I go in to Lucerne today & to Genoa tomorrow.  Best love to Bram.
Ever yr. loving mother
Emily to Olga from Zandvoort, June 15,1909 [Unfinished fragment]
Tuesday, June 15, 1909 [Day matches date.]
Villa Admiral de Kuijter, Zandvoort
Dearest Olga,
I think I wrote to you last week from Flevo, where I had gone to nurse Nella who had a bad abscess in her throat.  She is now better, & I went down there on Sunday hoping to bring her back with me here, but the doctor thought it safer to wait till the weather was milder, for we are having a spell of cold north wind.  So I go to Flevo tomorrow, and hope to return here with her on Thursday.  She does not go back to “Erica” the Herstillings oord for children. Her time there is up on the 1st of July, and she is not yet strong enough to do the work there.
Poor Nella, she is unlucky [love affair?]!  She is going to Ireland [Sligo] for July and August, & she loves that.  I told you that Aunt Minnie and Jole were over here for 3 days staying at Teau’s & Flevo, & I hear from Teau that Aunt Minnie was perfectly delighted at the reception she got from all the children, & they were all awfully nice to her, but then they are all fond of her & really glad to see her.  And she lost her heart to Alfred, the only one she had never seen.
I am so sorry about the dresses, I thought they looked so nice, & would be just what you wanted for morning wear.  You have time now to write to me, & tell me exactly what you want in the way of dresses, and I get Teau to bring them to you, & you will have them in the beginning of November.  I can get you one dress at Duhr’s for my expense, & then I can send you a couple of nice white blouses if you have skirts to wear with them.  The dress from Duhr could be for evening wear with a V shape in front.  You must write me exactly what you want, & then I can see what I can afford to send you.  In September I can get everything in order, so that Teau can take it with her.
Why does Bram now think that Ind[ones]ia will not be good for your nerves?  He could have known that all along.  It is the worst possible place for people with nerves.  If you come home with Teau, of course you come to Drafna, & I’ll have a corner for you and little Hilda.  While Teau is away, I am to have her baby & nurse.  Will Bram have to stay in Ind[ones]ia long after you?  Just won’t he hate it.  I haven’t said anything yet to father about your coming, for I thought that will be time enough next winter.  I [fragment ends here]
Emily to Olga from Drafna, December 20, 1909 [beginning fragment]
Monday, December 20, 1909 [Day matches date.]
Dearest Olga,
Just got your letter of the 20th Nov.  And the next day Fik and Teau will have been with you.  How you will have talked!  And we are still waiting for news of how the engagement was broken, & whether Jan was very cut up, or whether he was prepared for it, and whether Teau knew all about it before she sailed on the 28th.  I trust to you to tell me everything.  You are such a faithful correspondent, couldn’t be better.  I have never had to wonder why I don’t hear from you.  
I hope you’ll get father’s letter all right, in which he encloses f25.  If it had been double that, he would have been happy to give it for the sake of the good news!  I thought Bram was already commandant of the Wachtschip, it was in the paper that he was appointed.
You must tell me exactly what his title is now, also whether he is sure that he will be allowed to stay a year longer in Ind[ones]ia. I don’t trust those “Marin” people, they know how to tease, & if they think he wants to stay in Ind[ones]ia, they will order him home perhaps!  But keep me au fait of what his work is, for if people ask me I don’t like giving wrong answers.  Just yesterday I told somebody he was commander of the Wachtschip, & now in your letter this morning I hear he is still at the torpedoes.  I can understand he likes that work best.
Hilda had her bruiloft last Thursday, & Nella and I went in to her early in the morning, to help to settle her flowers and presents.  She got such a pretty ring from Han.  We gave her “groenten lepels.”  And she is getting, from the cousins, a beautiful Deventer carpet for her drawing room, and she got a lovely old Dutch Press from Charles and Marie.  Heaps of flowers, and the reception was nicely full, & afterwards all the brothers and sisters dined with her; we were 18 in all.

1910: Emily to Olga from Drafna, February 21, 1910
Monday, February 21st, 1910 [Day matches date.]
Dearest Olga,
Thank you for your nice long letter of the 19th and also the one of the 24th about Dr. van der Sande.  We know you would feel his death very much, as he had been attending Hilda so shortly before, & Fik and Teau knew him also.  I am of course wondering what you will decide about coming home.  It is a great excitement for us.  I am sending you by post two little calico dresses, which Polly made for Hilda, they fit baby Nella exactly, but we only tacked the hem so that you can make it as long or short as you like.  But now I won’t be able to send you any warm clothes as I had at first intended.  Anyhow if you come back in May it is not so very cold, & I can always post something to you to Port Said, if I know it in time.
Thanks for sending me Jan’s letter.  I dare say I’ll hear from him in a few weeks, when he has got my letters without mention of Edmée.  After I heard from him that the engagement was broken I wrote him one letter saying how I felt for him, and after that I haven’t mentioned the subject, and I told him I wouldn’t speak of her any more.  But I knew Jan would keep quiet & to himself for a time.  It will be good for him if Teau is able to stay with him for a little.
I am longing to know whether you went to Soerabaya to consult Dr. de Voyd, but against you get this I daresay I’ll have a letter from you.  Did you get the letter from father with f100 in it, and another with f10?  Mind acknowledge them when received.
I am sorry to hear about Mevrouw [Mrs.] van Stockum not being so well, I know how fond Bram is of her.
Best love from yr. loving mother
Emily to Olga, March 10, 1910
Drafna, Naarden
Thursday, March 10th [1910] [Day matches date]
Dearest Olga, 
Still waiting for news of you, or rather Bram.  I fancy we can get a letter next week telling us what his illness is, & when you are coming home.  You would certainly have telegraphed to us if it was anything very bad, so that is consoling. 
Fancy Jole is engaged to be married to a Mr. Durham Verscholje, whose sister is Lady Crofton.  I think you know her.  I hear he is a very nice man, and excessively clever, an inventive genius. He is a mining engineer, and earning about £1,200 a year, so they will marry soon.  Neville is also engaged to a Miss Forsyth, a girl in Calcutta, I believe very handsome, and a splendid horsewoman and dancer; that is all I know of her!
The very latest news in the family is that Han and Hilda [de Booy] have bought a small piece of Drafna ground, & are going to build a Cottage there for summer use, & hope to have it ready by July.
I am expecting Hessie & Eugentje here every minute.  They are coming to stay here for at least a fortnight.  I feel so happy at the idea of having them.  Johnnie and Maurits are now settled in Zandvoort, and go daily to that nice school in Bloemendaal.  The idea is to have them there for a couple of years if it agrees with them.
Mrs. Trot van Stockum comes here this afternoon to pay us a visit.  She was yesterday at Mom’s and slept there.  I would have asked her to lunch here today, only Hessie is arriving just at that hour, so she comes for tea.
Ever yr loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, May 2, 1910
Monday, May 2 [1910] [Day matches date.]
Dearest Olga,
Bram was here on Saturday & lunched with us, at least with father & me, for there was no one else here, and no one at Flevo either.  I hope he will be able to come here some Sunday, for otherwise I don’t know how he will get to see them, & of course they all come to me, and ask me how they are to see Bram, & I can’t tell them, I don’t even know his address in Amsterdam.  He told me he couldn’t come to dinner here as he was busy every evening, so I told him to come to lunch whenever he could.  I hadn’t a notion that he was going to stay any time in Amsterdam, I thought he had only left you for a few days, so I understand that you think it dreadful his going away, you will miss him!
I hope everything is going smoothly, & that you are doing all the doctor told you.  We are having such lovely spring weather, & everything looks so fresh and green, and the nightingales are singing so beautifully, life is worth living at present!  But I want to know that you are getting on well. 
You ask me about the name. I advise you call your boy after Willem, if he would like it. I never liked the name Jan, & then Jan van Stockum doesn’t sound a bit nice.  Why does your mother [Mrs. van Stockum Sr.] think it will be in October and not November?  I hope to hear from you soon.
Ever yr. loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, May 13, 1910
Drafna, Naarden
Friday, May 13, 1910 [Day matches date.]
Dearest Olga,
Letters are unpleasant things if mine gave you to think for one minute that the family had been complaining of not having seen Bram.  No one has said a word to me, but I would have liked him to have shown them, that he considered himself one of the family & was happy to accept from them anything they could do for you out of love.  
So you needn’t make yourself unhappy about quarrels and unpleasantness that don’t exist!  And you needn’t think you’ll have to ask Charles for money, for I have only to tell him you want it for your cure, & you will get it at once.
Bram was here yesterday to get some things out of his trunks, and told me he thought of bringing you to Holland in August.  You must tell me where you would like to go?  And shall I look out for something for you for that month?  And where?  I told Bram yesterday that I wished he would bring you here for the month of June.  This is the healthiest spot for lung patients, I told him the great Sanatorium is close to us!  It would be a lovely month for you to be with us, & Fik & Teau on & off here, and no other logées.  And then we could make your plans for the rest of the summer.  I told him he mustn’t think of going to Hessie in July or August for it would be really too much for her.  She gets her boys home then for the holidays.  Don’t you worry yourself about your family, they are all very nice & loving!
Ever yr. loving mother
Emily in Zandvoort to Olga, June 21, 1910 [?]
From Villa Admiral de Kuijter, Zandvoort
Monday [?], June 21, 1910[?] [Date does not match day of week in 1910.]
Dearest Olga,
Last Thursday I was able to bring Nella here, and she is gradually getting stronger, she was awfully pulled down.  Her throat attack was worse than she ever before had, and I thing the reason was, that she didn’t give in soon enough, she only took to her bed when she couldn’t stand on her feet any longer, there was so much to do, 13 children to be washed, dressed and fed and no servant to help, and the two “zusters” ill.  I am so sorry that her philanthropic work was cut short, it is disheartening for her.
She was delighted with a letter she got from you last week, and also one from Jan.  she stays with us here till the 30th of June, when we go traveling, and she goes first to Teau, and then to Ireland.
We are going to London for a few days, as I have at last got Girenks [?] to come and meet me there, I haven’t seen him for two years, and I have so much to talk to him.  And then we go from London to Paris, and so on to Switzerland.  I think you may rest easy about our being in Drafna next summer, I am almost sure Father won’t sell it, he refused an offer the other day.  He is going to sell the bit along the “straatweg” and he’ll get a good price for that, and then we keep the rest of Drafna, and house and stable.  Attie has bought the bit of ground near “klein Drafna,” that “dennen bosch” opposite Brouwer, just beside our place, and they are building a wooden house there, for summer use and weekends, Attie is so happy to come near us.  I sometimes get so angry when I am writing letters to you, there are such heaps and heaps of things I want to tell you, and which I know would amuse and interest you, but it is important to wish them, it takes too long, if I only think of the hundreds of things that passed through my head while I was writing this!  
Hilda came down here yesterday for dinner, and the way that girl can talk, she is most entertaining, and her life is so full and active, it is most interesting to hear her.  She is also a good wife and mother, and it has not always been easy for her with Han, for he is full of old fashioned ideas and customs and without actually going against him she has managed to get him to take a broader view of things.  If she had given in to everything, he would have made her live a very cramped life, sitting at home darning or knitting stockings, ready to receive him when he chose to pop in on her.  And she is fit for more than that, and happily he begins to see that a little bit, but it was a struggle.  And she is such a good mother, looks after her children well, morally and physically.  
Tom [de Booy] has always been an easy and a good child, with the highest cifers in his class that he can get, but happily he is now sometimes naughty, or he would have been a prig!  And Hilda had a difficulty in not letting Han spoil him, by always consulting his wishes, and making everything smooth for him.  Alfie has developed so nicely, he is a very clever child, and a sense of humor, and witty and innocent and a good heart, the makings of a fine man, full of fun and mischief, the saving of John.  Olga is a nice gentle little thing too young to say much about her yet, she has always odious “jufurouwen”, and has now got an English heavy lump, who is going away in the autumn, and then Hilda gets Polly’s niece Ethel, (Annie’s daughter) and that will be I hope a nice companion for Olga.  I don’t know your address any more, as I suppose you will have left Lohman’s Pavilion by this [time], so I hope your name is known well enough in Soerabaya for you to get this.  
I am going out now to pay a visit to Suge van Tienhoven, she has built herself a little house here beyond “Zuid Zandvoort,” you know she got a f2,500 lot in a lottery last year, and this house is one of the results.  I had a postcard from Hessie last week, and she says she is really improving but will have to stay the whole month of July in Laag Soiren.
Best love to you and Bram and little Hilda.  Your loving mother. 

Emily in Gunten, Switzerland, to Olga, August 9, 1910
Hotel & Pension Hirschen, Gunten on Lake Thun, Berne, Switzerland
Tuesday, August 9th, 1910
Dearest Olga,
Last week I wrote to you telling of our visit to Bram’s mother, but this week I have nothing particular to tell you, we are here on the Thunersee, enjoying ourselves beyond words, after making little excursions on the steamers, to Interlaken, Spinz [?], Thun etc.  Tomorrow we hope to go to Adelboden for a day, to pay a visit to Sisi & Mia Boissevain, who are there for some weeks. 
Last Tuesday we paid a visit to Charles and Marie in Grünig where they are for the summer with their whole family & Anna!!! And an under nurse.  They all have their meals together, at a separate table from the other guests, & it was a sight to see the tableful and Charles, the proud & happy father, I was so glad to see them all there, Charles away from his business, and not preoccupied, & taking nice walks and excursions with his boys, who are fine manly fellows, Charlie remains our favorite, but Menso is also a nice boy, & does not give the impression of being so pedantic as he seemed to be.  They are both of them nice with their parents, & fond of them.  I am happy to say Bobbie is being sent to Snuk this winter to go there to the gymnasium, & will live with “Leeraar” [?].  I wish he had been sent to a good “Kostschool”, but any thing is better than his staying at home, he is a troublesome boy, & everyone in the house was against him, which is ruinous for a boy’s character.
I just had a letter from Marie & she tells me Menso & Charlie have just climbed the Wetterkom successfully, that is a stiff climb.  I have no letters worth enclosing, except one from An, which tells about Drafna, Nella & Teau, my chief correspondents write too intimately for me to forward their letters.
Teau is beginning to realize how hard it will be for her to part from her little girlie.  I am not going to advise her to do it, for if she feels it so very strongly, it might make her ill, & makes me feel the responsibility very much.  It would be great disappointment for you I know.  Best love to Bram and a kiss for the baby.
Love yr loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, October 5, 1910 [?]
Tuesday [?], October 5, 1910 [?] [Day of week doesn’t match date]
Dearest Olga,
The telegram from Samarang arrived this morning, and of course Teau is in a state of doubt now as to what to do.  Fik is in town today and she went to see him to consult him as to what they will do.  I know she longs to take her child with her, but as she would have to leave it for three months, she is not sure what is the wisest thing to do.  We of course know nothing about Lawang, but I suppose Fik and Hilda will be able to tell us what sort of place it is. 
The telegram says: “Bram & Olga residing healthy Lawang”, so we suppose you are settled there while Bram is on the Wachtschip.  If we could afford to send Nella out to help you with the two children then it would be easy but that can’t be.  And two children of the same age would be too much for you alone.  So poor Teau is rather unhappy, not knowing what to decide, so I hope Fik will settle everything.  Han & Hilda dine with us today, so Hilda will put in her word of advice.
If I was Teau I would take the child with me, but I won’t give any advice, but I thought her quite right not to bring the child to Soerabaya.  I hope the climate in Lawang will do you good, & that you will lose that “verhooging”.  In the long run that would undermine your constitution.  That is what Hilda always had.
Ever your loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, October 20, 1910
Drafna, Naarden
Thursday, Oct. 20, 1910
Dearest Olga,
I am so glad that you arrived home without being too tired, and found your house and all in order.  The cook might to be very happy with the old blue dress, for by cutting away all the bad part, she would make a very nice dress for a small person. 
I missed you so awfully when you went, I cannot tell you how I enjoyed having you, old clothes and all!  But I hope Bram won’t disappoint me about little Hilda, I really saw nothing of the child, and I would so love to have her without father or mother, and when your baby is born, I’ll come down to see you, and sleep at Hessie’s and hope that Bram will let me take little Hilda back with me for a week, and he will surely be going to Amsterdam in that time, so he wouldn’t nip her, but we need not settle anything till the time comes.  I don’t think you ought even to think of going with Bram to the west.
A year goes by so soon, and you have now mapped out your time, so that you really can be economical, and need cost Bram very little.  I saw Hilda yesterday and she is so well, and I expect to have her here on Saturday week, I told her to wait till after the birthday, and told her Hessie was staying till Monday or Tuesday, so that she would be sure to see her.  She hopes to go to you when your child is born.  I had to tell her all about you, and the scolding I gave you about your clothes, and I told her you bore it like an angel.  I forgot to give you the wedding cake for you and Hessie.
Fancy father went to see Hilda yesterday, and got into a tram and went to her house instead of the “Ziekenferplizing”.  I told him it was just something for Olga to do, and that it was easy to see she was his daughter!
Best love to Bram.  Ever your loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, November 8, 1910 [?]
Monday[?], November 8, 1910 [?off by a year from the calendar]
Dearest Olga,
Your letter of October 11 came this morning.  I hope soon to hear from you that your malaria is quite over, you certainly let it go on too long, & that is why it is so hard to get rid of.  I am also very glad that Fik decided to leave baby Nella here, but that telegram was hard on Teau, for it made her just long to take her with them.  And she is so well & happy here, it would have been a sin to disturb her.  
Father tells me that he wrote to you last mail begging of you to send us a telegram if it was finally decided that the engagement was broken, for it is not likely that Jan would telegraph it, and we are so anxious to know that there is an end to it all.  If you telegraph: [“]Boissevain. Naarden. Broken.[”], then we know what that means, & father will at once send you a “postwissel” for the amount of the telegram.  It will be such a relief to us all, for we are so afraid that she may have written to Jan in such a strain, that he will have pity on her, and not give her up.  Teau will have got a telegram from us on her arrival in Batavia, saying that Edmée had written offering to break [the] engagement.  I wanted Teau to know exactly how matters stood, before seeing Jan, as she thought it so horrible that she couldn’t talk out really what was in her mind about Edmée.
Yesterday we had a visit from Henk Boelen, who lives in Soerabaya & will see Jan soon.  It was nice of him to come here, & he can tell Jan all about us.  Marie was here for the day.  Charles had gone to Hamburg for the weekend to see Eugen.  Mary is back from Baden, and is certainly the better of [for] her stay there.  And on Saturday Nella fetched Johnnie from Noordwijk, where he has been for seven weeks, & he looks a different creature, so well and strong.  He goes back to Hattem tomorrow.  Please go on sending me Jan’s letters, you can’t know what it is for me, it is a bit of himself.  He was so young when he went away.  Don’t mind Bram, though I agree with Bram all the same!  But this is exceptional & I am his mother!
Yr loving mother
Emily to Olga from Drafna, November 16, 1910
Drafna, Naarden
Dearest Olga,
Last night I got your letter of 18 October.  I am sorry to hear you have got “verhooging,”  I thought you would be all right when once you got to a proper climate, but perhaps by degrees your temperature will learn to behave itself.  Have you got books to read?  And have you sewing work to do?  Or can you take up some study.  You must not get into the habit of being unhappy from Monday to Friday.
Of course you miss Bram, and of course it is nicest to have him with you, but haven’t you learnt the lesson yet to take life as it is, & make the best of it?  Why, don’t you know that if you are unhappy, it affects your health.  You must give yourself some work to do, that will really occupy you while you are alone, and with such a man as Bram to refer to, & to help you, it will not be difficult, and then with that dotie child for recreation, & also having to do everything for her, oh!  You mustn’t let yourself be unhappy.  Begin & write an account of your life in India, it will be nice for little Hilda afterwards, & I would love to read it!
Do you want any books?  And what sort?  Father will be only too happy to send you some if he knows what sort.  Am I writing you a horrible sermon?  But it is for Bram’s sake, as well as your own, think of what a difference it makes for him if he knows he leaves you happy or if when he comes to you he can see you have been fretting for him.  But I fancy when you are settled in your own house in December it will be different.  And when you get this you will have had Teau and Fik with you and I dare say that will have done you good. 
We have heard nothing from Edmée and are just longing to know how things stand with her and Jan.  You’ll telegraph to us as soon as you know anything?  I am longing to hear Teau’s account of you and Hilda.  
Fondest love from yr. loving mother
OLGA, MOTHER – by HILDA VAN STOCKUM

My mother, born Olga Emily Boissevain, later Mrs. Bram van Stockum, was the middle one of eleven children -- five brothers and sisters above her in age and five below.  Charles used to carry the photographs of the children in his pocket to show to anyone who was interested, and therefore was nicknamed “The Kangaroo.”  Once he dined with an Eastern potentate who boasted of having four more children, but had to acknowledge the greater achievement of my grandfather when he revealed the astounding fact that he had them all by one wife
The oldest child of Charles was a son called Charles E H (“Charles Eh Hah”).     Charles EH was the wealthiest of the 11 “Careltjes” He married a woman who was became the first female member of the Dutch Parliament – Marie Pijnapple; they had ten children.  It was not surprising that my grandparents ended up with 125 grandchildren, all of whom were welcome to visit them.
My grandfather was the owner and editor of the Amsterdam Handelsblad, the most successful daily paper in Holland, and wrote a feature called “From Day to Day” in the most frivolous part of the paper, which also included a children’s section.  We grandchildren often, on arrival at their grandparents’ house, made a bee-line to their library where all these wonders could be found.  I earned a scolding from my Granny for doing so:  
“The first thing you do when you visit anywhere, is to present yourself to your hostess and greet her.  I didn’t even know you had arrived.”
So in future I did as she told me, and as the drawing room was next door to the library not too much time was wasted.  But I have to confess I was not the most popular guest.  Those who had not learned to read yet fared much better.  But I was my grandfather’s favorite and was always put beside him at table, so I was the one who witnessed the first time he lost a tooth.  He was very unhappy about it because he had kept all his teeth till he was eighty.  I sympathized very much because going to the dentist was one of my phobias and no doubt my grandfather appreciated my heart-felt sympathy.  At any rate, I was acknowledged to be his favorite and perhaps this was partly because I had a talent for making up verses.  He said I had inherited this talent from him – besides writing a daily column in his paper – he had also written books, mostly on his travels.  I have a literary criticism of his work by some literary bigwig of his time a very superficial criticism, I think, though I’m biased, of course.  But it’s nice to have it all the same.
Drafna
If creativity and complexity go hand in hand, then large families lend themselves to being creative.  The Boissevain family is a large and creative one and its components were focused on houses.  The Charletjes are the 11 children of Dutchman Charles Boissevain, Editor of the Amsterdam Handelsblat, and his Irish bride Emily MacDonnell.
The Charles Boissevain clan lived in a semi-circle stretching from the seaside resort town of Zandvoort to the west, then 20 miles east through Haarlem to Amsterdam, another 15 miles east to Naarden-Bussum (served by a single train stop), Baarn, and Blaricum, and finally 45 miles northeast to Hattem, near Zwolle, where the van Halls lived.  The center was at Bussum, where Drafna was located.  Drafna was described by Tom de Booy as having “a special atmosphere [as] the throbbing center of the Boissevain clan.”  The De Booys built a house called De Sparren near Tante Trot’s house.  In Hattem were Astra, built by the van Halls, and Kleine Astra, where the van Halls stayed while they were building their house.  The de Beauforts (the family Teau married into) also lived near Hattem. 
The importance of houses may be conveyed by the fact that Teau de Beaufort composed a play about houses.  Each character was given a house to play.  They had to memorize their lines.  I remember an embarrassing play.  I was 10 years old and was given the part of a seaside resort house (probably the one at Zandvoort).  But my father was there and he took the liberty of changing some of Teau’s lines.  I thought her father’s changes were good (he had a good ear for meter), but Teau and her fellow authors did not want to recognize any line changes.  As a result, I never learned the changed lines properly and she was prompted with the original text, which she hadn’t studied.  It was a disaster for me.
Moving with Mother Around the World
But to answer her question briefly, after we left Holland I lived in Ireland with my mother and two brothers till I married, so Ireland is a part of my youth.  I was very happy there.  Irish people are very natural, full of humor (but with an underlying melancholy) and their defects are endearing rather than off-putting.  My mother was poor.  She had to be helped by relatives, but she always saved on necessities and spent her money on luxuries.  We went often to the cinema in the sixpenny seats,  with a lot of street urchins who loudly cheered the hero and booed the villain.  It added style to the picture.  Later, when we made friends with the Dutch consul we had the best seats and wonderful dinners with six courses.  In return he had home-cooked meals in our cottage kitchen, which his homesickness proclaimed “Typically Dutch” (which it was not, but we let him think so).  He became a real Dutch uncle to us.
Actually we didn’t mind being poor.  With Mother it was fun, our exercises in economy were amusing.  We got a goat which we learnt to milk, and two ducks.  But as Mother had only a sitz-bath for their ablutions they soon forsook us for the pond next door, belonging to a farmer, who probably gathered in their eggs along with those legitimately  his.  So that was not a good idea and only Mother could have thought of it.  I’m prouder of our attempt to make our own Christmas tree by tying living branches to a dead firtree!
When I went to America I tasted American poverty, which is quite different from the Irish variety.  We were in New York, in the depth of the Depression.  My husband was a bit run down and had to be built up but the diet he was prescribed would have left me without anything to eat, so he generously compromised.  Actually, that was easy as I was getting my first baby and the last thing I wanted was food!  My great joy in those days was to go walking in Central Park and make friends with adorable negro babies.  I’m afraid, though I was happy in my marriage and the prospect of my baby, I was very homesick for my mother and wept over the toilet articles (silver brush and comb) she had given me.  Later on, of course, when my husband got a job in the civil service and moved to Washington, life brightened up and we never looked back.   (Spike said he never felt so rich as when he had a Government job in the Depression.)
When I think of Washington I see glittering white buildings amid pink cherry blossoms.  Well, I had all my children in Washington, except Olga, who was born in New York.  And I remember a very humdrum suburban life with all the ups and downs that would make modern ladies squirm.  But I loved it, and I had my mother with me.  She and my brother Willem came to America in the 1930s and made their home with us.  When Spike had to leave for Europe on account of the war, we took a lodger.  He was one of those sent by the English government to help the war effort in the navy,  and he became a great friend of the family.  He was more or less my mother’s age and they had long arguments about the war.  I think I have described it all in my Mitchells trilogy, which also describes our move after the war to Canada.
Mother’s Death
In 1999 I had a dream in which I relived my mother’s death 50 years earlier.  Of course what I dreamed was very much what I felt when she was dying.  I knew she was dying, but I tried to brush the knowledge aside.  I was by her bed.  She was leaning against her pillows and her forehead was the only thing to look at.  Death was starting on her forehead.  First, a little area became white and cold and then her face froze.  I wanted to leave her, but I saw she was frightened and I knew she wanted me there.   Because she was frightened, I could not leave her.  I wanted to run away, but I knew that was cowardly – my mother and daughters needed me; I had to stay.  
In my imagination there was a large cross looming at my right, somewhat out of my sight.  If I ran away, I would not only desert my mother, but also the cross and its victim.  I could not do it.  I kept looking at my mother’s face.  Her forehead was dying – it was starting there – it was getting bluish white.  My mother’s eyes were fixed on me with a plea for help – yet what could I do?  If I did not watch her, what might happen?  Her forehead seemed to be melting and the rest of her face disintegrating – yet this was my mother.  What could I do for her – how could I stop this strange melting that changed my mother’s face?  
She looked at me.   She asked: “Am I dying?”  And there was great fear in her face.
I knew I had to reassure her.  It was not good for her to get into a panic.  She asked: “What did the doctor say?  Did he say I was going to die?”  What was she feeling?  The doctor’s words lingered in my ear:  “She is dying, she may not reach the morning.  I cannot stay – I have other patients.  You stay.”  He had given me all the responsibility.  I felt very alone – I prayed to God, and yes, now I felt a cross looming over me, with a victim hanging from it.  I averted my eyes – I must stay.  I could not desert the cross.
My mother’s face became more distorted.  She was in agony, but I could not help, nor go away.  The invisible cross beside me was commanding me to stay.  
“Did he say I was going to die?”  My mother was panicked.  “No,” I said firmly.  He hadn’t actually said it.  My mother’s face was full of fear – she seemed to be slipping away, not wanting to realize that it was really death that was awaiting her with open jaws.  She was hanging back, clinging to life.  I felt the cross close to me.  A wooden cross, heavy and splintery, reaching to the top of the ceiling.  What could I do?  I looked at my mother – I looked reassurance, I got behind her and held her shoulders.  “It will be all right,” I murmured.  “God is waiting for you.  You’re going to Him now.”  
Suddenly Olga, my daughter was there – I felt immense support.  She was praying.  She was going to stay through the night, to keep my mother company – I did not have to fear I would be left alone, Olga was good at praying.  Another daughter joined us. The prayers became stronger.  Mother listened and joined in too, haltingly, painfully.
Cocks crowed outside as dawn wakened threads of light.  Mother had calmed down, was even trying to sleep a little.  My daughter and I kept on praying.  Another daughter had quietly joined us.  The doctor came.  He felt Mother’s pulse, and nodded: “She’ll be all right,” he said.  But Mother was still anxious.  Her eyes pleaded with the doctor who shook his head.  At last he left and following him I asked when he could come back.
“I’ll send people who’ll give her the last rites,” he said.  “But I can’t stay now.”  I accompanied him to the front door and he said he’d try to return later.  I went to the kitchen and told Nora, our Irish servant, that Mother was on the point of dying.
“If she does,” said Nora, “open the windows, so her soul can find the way to Heaven.  Don’t cry.  That might keep her back.”
I hastened to my mother who looked much worse.  She really looked as if she had reached the end.  It really seemed to be the end.  I held my mother’s hand and looked at her.
She asked again: “Am I dying?” 
“No,” I said, “not yet.”  She looked relieved.  I went on saying the rosary and was glad to see more of my children joining us.  Mother became waxen pale and really looked as if she were going to die soon.  When it happened, I hurried to the kitchen and asked Nora what I must do. 
“Open the windows!” she said, “Then her spirit can find its way out.”  I did so and I whispered: “Go Mother, go.  Don’t stay here.  I can manage.  You must let your soul free to reach Heaven and the boys.  God be with you.”   Then, peace came into my soul.
LETTERS FROM OLGA (1908-1909)
To Emily from Java, Middle Fragment, November  1908
…into a sitting position all by herself.  She [Hilda] sits alone too, but she doesn’t creep yet: she prefers rolling herself to wherever she wants to be.  She has such a sweet way of crinkling up her nose when she laughs.  She has the most delightful laugh I ever heard: it comes deep out of her little tummy and rolls and ripples so that her whole little body shakes.  She strokes me so gently sometimes, her little head to one side and her hand on my cheek.  She is admired by every one who sees her– such a curious contrast dark eyes and dark curling eyelashes and golden lair hair– very pretty.  She is a tremendous fatty and so heavy.  The doctor was in raptures about her, said he’d never yet seen such a healthy child in India.  I’ve now decided not to wean her till she’s ten months.  Then I’ll take three or four weeks to do it, so she’ll be weaned when she is eleven months.  Mind you tell me when Teau is going to wean hers.  They don’t as a rule feed babies here longer than nine months themselves, but I prefer doing it, because November is so unbearably hot and I think it silly to change in the worst month.
I was so awfully pleased with baby the other day.  I showed her a picture book and at each new picture I showed her she shrieked with joy.  I was thunderstruck at it, because I didn’t think a child of 8 months would be able to recognize things on a picture. So to see if such was the case, I showed a page with nothing but writing on it…and her joy was just as great!!
She gets half a pisang every day and some stewed rice with bouillon and a few spoonfuls of egg.  She enjoys it all very much.  She is not a bit shy, and laughs at everyone.  How I do wish I could see her beside Nella and Alfie.  I am sure they’d make a trio anyone might be proud of.
Hilda sings and shouts the whole day long “Buwa, Buwa!”   Is her favorite cry.  The baboe thinks she calls her doll “Buwa!”  but it is only a cry of joy.  She is never out of my sight, except for half an hour in the morning while I dress, breakfast and bathe and then I am the whole time inclined to run and see if she is all right.  She is absolutely the joy of my life, for it would be like a prison here if she wasn’t there to rejoice me.
But all the same I’ll be terribly happy to have Bram once more and be able to speak with some one.  I miss him terribly.  He is much splendid company and keeps me alive and full of interest in the worlds going on:  he always has theories or plans or thoughts to speak about and now the only sound there is in the world for me is baby’s laugh and baby’s talk.  She can play like a big child already: bites my cheek and blows on it.  The first time she did it accidentally, thought it funny, laughed and immediately did it again on purpose.  She is….
To Bram from Java, December 1908
Dear Bram,
Here we are, oh how I wish you were with us!  Jan was at the station to help us, the darling.  We were inside an hour at Modjokerto, took two Badots there and arrived in five minutes at the steam tram.  For two hours we rode in that tram.  It was full of gentlemen, which was embarrassing as I had to feed the baby [Hilda].  Hilda was sweet, coquetting with the gentlemen.  Everyone admired her.  
At Modjewarrow I was supposed to find a carriage with a boy, sent there by Stine, but when I got out of the tram there was no one and I heard to my dismay that there wasn’t a carriage to be had.  I looked at the nameplate to see if I was at the right station and got a fright when I read Modjowarnie.  I thought I’d made a mistake.  I felt very lost in the wide wide world, not knowing the language.  After a long anxious wait the man came with two dogcarts and it seems I got off at the wrong stop.  We had a ride of an hour along bumpy roads – the horses that pulled us were wild and full of tricks–sometimes they balked or went backwards.  At last we got to Karengan.  There Stine sat on horseback, wearing a white divided skirt and a big tjappel on her head, a monkey on her shoulder and a great welcome in her mouth.  I had to get with Baby in the tandoe because we had to cross three rivers – but afterwards we got out and walked up the mountain with Stine.  
Oh Bram, it is so curious here!  The house is a row of barns of woven mats with openings for doors and windows and made very cosy by Stine.  The primeval forest is quite close and sometimes, very seldom, they hear tigers.  This morning there was great emotion because a snake was discovered close to the veranda where Baby sat in her playpen.  But luckily it was not a poisonous one.  Stine has seen small poisonous snakes here.  Her husband seems nice; quite and content, but taciturn.  Stine I love.  She is so calm and efficient.  She is sweet to Baby.  I am sorry for her to see Hilda after her own loss.  It is nice that she knows all the van Stockums.  The only drawback here is the monkey, which has attacked me twice already and which goes along on all our walks.
His teeth have been shaved off but he managed to wound me all the same.  Yesterday evening Stine and I took a beautiful walk to a meadow with a view on the mountains.  In the morning and evening it is nice and cool here without mosquitoes.  It is such fun to see Stine pottering around all morning: making butter and mincemeat, feeding beasts and in between gossiping with me.  She doesn’t wear a sarong or kabaai.
I wish you were here, the primeval forest makes me think of you all the time.  But for you it will be nice to hear how much I enjoy all this.  Stine is so sweet to me.
To Family, from Java, Same Place, later…
Dear Freddie, Maurits, Johnny, Hilda, Maurits, Tom, Alfie, George, Valti, Gemma and Tollie.  Good Heavens!  I’m out of breath writing all your names!  It’s quite a job writing to so many nieces and nephews at the same time. Thank you for your letters.  I’ll try to take care, John, but it is difficult for our Baboe is very strict with Hilda and me.  Of course Uncle Bram’s ship did not founder; he is much too good a sailor.  But it NEARLY happened, for he went with his ship where sailors seldom go and got close to a reef that wasn’t on the map.
Tom and Alfie, nice of you to write me.  I liked your drawings.  Did you hear I’ve been to a primeval forest?  Just like Uncle Bram! There were all sorts of scary animals.  It took a long time to get there.  Mrs. Nering Boegel waited to conduct us to her house but because we had to go along narrow paths she straddled a horse like a man.  So she cut her skirt in two.  It looked all right when she was riding but when she walked you had a peep of her legs all the time.  She wore a large native sun hat and a monkey sat on her shoulder, called Jacko.  We had to climb the mountain and because we had to cross rivers and there were no bridges I had to sit in a rickshaw and was carried up by the natives.
Hilda loved it and kept saying “buwa, buwa,” which meant, I think, “How beautiful it is here and what an interesting life I have.”  When we approached the forest we had to get out for we had got to Mrs. Nering’s house.  It really isn’t a house at all, just some sheds made of woven whattles, so you could see through the holes between the weaving.  In the bathroom was a little brook that came from the mountain into one side of the bathroom and went out another.  It was quite cold for Indonesia.  It was a very decrepit bathroom for as I washed myself in the stream I could see through a hole what was happening in the kitchen.  And sometimes the wind blew the roof up into the air and then you could see a big bird flying over your head.  You get a fright when that happens to you.
From Villa Wedom, Lawang, Java, December 1, 1909
Dear Family,
I must again thank you so many dear people for their presents.  So I’m sending one bit letter to you all.  Mary, I’m delighted with the dresses… they fit me beautiful and look elegant.  And Rosie and Mies, your dressing gowns were most welcome.  Hilda, I thank you in name of our daughter for the brooch.  Mary, thank for the little doll.  I congratulate Robert and Rosie with their new daughter Kathleen (what a sweet name) and Alfred and Mies with the birth of Herman.  And I thank Charles not only for his sweet letter, but especially that he sent on Hessie’s letter and for everything he did for Hessie.  If everything Charles did for her gives Hessie back her old vitality, then Charles has earned his place in Paradise.  Polly, you too have been splendid.  The black dress fits beautifully and our admiration for all the little bits you transformed into sleeves knows no bounds.  The little pinafore for Hilda fits her exactly so you see, we are simply overwhelms with splendid apparel.  I was going about in rags so it came in the nick of time.  Most of the white shirts I took with me are in rags and the only proper dress I had left was the green voile and that would burst open occasionally as the silk lining was worn out, so you can understand how well off I now feel.  And Hilda, your scarf looks so neat, thanks very much.  And Em, how sweet of you to send me Adama van Scheltema’s poetry.  What a lovely family I have!  But now I want to tell you about our gala week.  
Hilda and I stood at the station to fetch Fik and Teau.  I’d been busy all day decorating the house with flowers and making a delicious sponge cake for them, and arranging their room… but I was ready much too early, and I’d been pacing about impatiently.  Teau was hanging out of the window waving her arms and Fik was looking a little bit less dangerously out of another window.  It was a tremendous emotion when they at last embraced me.  When Teau saw our darling little daughter she did have to cry a moment, thinking of Nella left behind in Holland.  Hilda did not understand it all.  She never saw me act so familiarly with people and she was much impressed.  I thought Teau changed… but advantageously so.  She looks more like Hessie.  Her face has lost something piquant she had but something more beautiful has taken its place.  She told me that Jan had also said she was looking like Hessie.  They loved our little house and we had a gezellig tasty meal.  
Afterwards we went to the cupola on the hill and enjoyed an Indonesian night.  The Smeroe (a volcano) was spitting fire and Teau was enthusiastic.  I too, for it was the first time I had seen it, but for the honor of my house I pretended it was a daily occurrence.  Only the next day I told them it had been new to me too.  Teau was indignant and when Bram heard about it he called me a volcanic snob.
The day after their arrival we made a beautiful trip to the waterfall.  First we drove and then we walked for half an hour where we could see the falls.  We stood at the edge of what looked like an extinct volcano.  It was a kind of hollow formed by mountains and at its rim, opposite where we stood, a little river rushed down.  The walls of the crater where grown over with ferns and flowers and trees, reminding us of the Glen in Sligo.  At the bottom was a little lake, which churned and danced and chuckled with pleasure under the continuous stream of wild foaming river water.  First the little river curled calmly over the edge and then you saw the drops beginning to realize how lovely it was to fall through the air and they became wildly enthusiastic and disappeared in a mist, but the others went on falling, more and more quickly, till at last they reached their gay little brothers in the lake.  It was a lovely sight.  We saw all this best when we were down near the lake, but it was difficult for us to reach it, as we had Hilda and no help, and the path was so steep that many ladies gave up.  Fik carried Hilda first, but both he and I were very nervous and so I took her and went as best as I could, slithering down with her.  At a certain moment I could no go any more, my knees wobbled and my arms were aching.  I sat down in despair while Teau and Fik went on.  Then an Indonesian rescued me.  He put Hilda in a slendang and went down with her.  We had a lovely morning there.  Teau and I sat on rocks, chatting, Hilda throwing her shoes in the water (which Teau had to rescue with great danger to her own shoes) and Fik searching for and finding rare fishes.  It was so lovely and gezellig!  Hessie will be able to imagine it for she must have been as lonely in Ruxton as I was here. 
The next day the trunk came with my new clothes and as Fik had to go on business to Sourabaia, Teau and I fitted and sewed and chattered.  You should have seen Hilda’s beaming face when she saw all the beautiful things and was given Mary’s doll!  She was sweet.  The day after we did another beautiful tour.  We drove to a sacred wall which had formed a little lake where one could fish and bathe.  It was sorrounded by monkeys.  Fik started fishing right away.  Teau amused herself, letting Hilda wet herself in the lake, but with tragic results, for though I’d brought a clean suit for her it began to pour rain and we had to seek shelter with Hilda.  We fled to a house in the vicinity that  then turned out to be a hotel and we plopped down only to be ousted by the proprietor who said he’d rented everything.  We had to wrap Hilda in a towel and Teau carried her to our carriage and there we sheltered in a little Indonesian shop that Teau thought most interesting.  We then had a cold, wet, long journey home. 
It was a lovely change for me but Teau and Fik want all the warmth and sun they can get.  We walked with them also through primeval forest, but saw no monkeys.  They were enthusiastic about the lovely landscape here.  I told them of the only visit I made here.  I live a very lonely life here.  Hilda and I are usually alone in the house and if I need help, I have to go a little farther to where my servants live.  So under those circumstances I thought it wise to pay a call to my nearest neighbor.  Teau thought it so interesting that she wanted to come with me.  
My neighbor is a widow and when I first arrived at her house I suddenly wondered whether I had to speak Malay or Dutch to her. She wore a sarong and kabaai and her face looked brown and wrinkled but luckily she said: “What do you want?” in Dutch.  I then asked if I could pay her a visit the next day.  
I came and she had provided a banquet… the most lovely tartlets, cookies and cherry cobbler, and she beamed with pleasure when she saw how I enjoyed it all.  She told me she made everything herself.  For a time she made all sorts of Indonesian and European sweetmeats which she sold.  Once she had 60 florins worth of stuff in her larder, when people burgled her house and made off with it.  Now she doesn’t do it any more because she doesn’t want to tempt the natives.  She cooks her own meals on a paraffin stove and her sister tells me it is always delicious.  She was flattered that I wanted to visit her.  A while ago she had prepared a feast for 20 widows in Lawang and everyone had been delighted.  
But she thought the life of a widow very difficult. You were facing everything alone, though she told me in confidence that she hated all men. She is English–that is, her father she says was an Englishman–but she does not know the language. Her mother married her father when she was only 14 and had 24 births in two marriages.
When I told all this to Teau, she wanted to visit her too.  We’ll go there on her return.  The days have fled by and I am longing for Bram. The nice days are gone before you realize it, while the boring ones drag. 
Olga

Notes on Editing and Comments

In transcribing Emily’s letters, there were several challenges that were shared to a lesser degree by the other materials:
1. Her handwriting.  Emily’s writing is basically clear but her capitalizations of letters like B, K, M and W are idiosyncratic, making many surnames difficult to decipher.  This challenge had to be met first by our patient typist of Emily’s letters, herself appropriately named Emily - Emilia Mercedes Henriquez.  
2. Her grammar and references to place names and surnames.  When I started editing other family letters I fixed up the language in the interest of making the language more accessible to modern American readers.  This may be acceptable for translations from the Dutch, but Emily to the end wrote almost entirely in English and I have been firmly advised by friendly professors like Vassar’s Barbara Page that in this case I should keep the transcription as close as possible to the original, however ungrammatical Emily might be.  With this collection of letters I have therefore sought to be faithful to Emily’s usage, even using the ampersand (“&”) instead of “and”, and keeping spelling even if archaic or incorrect.  I have also put comments for the reader in square brackets [like this] indicating my suggested additions or questions. 
3. Putting a year on the letters, which were not sorted.  Hardly any letter has a year and many have only a day of the week, and I inherited them in no particular order!  Frequently I have footnoted with triumph the sentence that gives away the year.  The combination of a day of the week and a date can help provide a year.  Sometimes a year has been penciled later onto the letter that appears to be wrong from the content.  The very first letter from Emily dates back to 1880; I’m grateful to Engelien de Booy for helping me to date the first letter and others.  

In this “Voyage to Java” I include only the letters Emily sent from 1907 to 1910.  Other letters of hers are being transcribed. This is a tiny augmentation of the literary output by or about the Boissevain Careltjes.  

23,200 words Dec 20, 2013