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.

This was naturally an attractive religion for business people in France, who had been pilloried by the Catholic Church for having become too rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

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

The Boissevains Escape and Some Go to Holland

No one, of course, would leave the gorgeous Dordogne area voluntarily. They had to be ejected. The Boissevains were booted out, 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, who were called Huguenots because of an early leader named 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.

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 Bomber, by 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. [See also https://nyctimetraveler.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-first-year-of-dutch-occupation.html.]

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. 

BOISSEVAIN | Olga's Letters from East Java, 1908-1909

Olga Boissevain van Stockum, seated,
with her husband Bram and their
first two children, Hilda (b.1908)
 and Willem (b.1910).

Hilda van Stockum lovingly preserved letters to and from Olga Boissevain van Stockum when the van Stockum family was in Indonesia in 1908-1910. The Dutch Navy sent Olga's husband, naval officer Bram van Stockum to Java to captain a ship to ferry soldiers around (small rebellions required a response) and supervise target practice with large guns. The family of three – Hilda was just a few months old – traveled by commercial ship together to Java. Then they had to separate while Bram took command of a ship. Olga was left to care for her infant daughter. Here are some letters to her mother and husband about the experience.

Olga Boissevain van Stockum to Her Mother Emily,  Middle Fragment, November 1908 

[Baby Hilda, now 9 months old, gets into…] a sitting position all by herself. She 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 between her dark eyes and dark curling eyelashes and her golden fair 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.e., Dutch India or East Indies or what we today call Indonesia].

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 [Caterina Boissevain de Beaufort, the youngest of the 11 Boissevain children and by most accounts the most beautiful, who nonetheless, sadly, was the first of them to die, in 1922] is going to wean hers [i.e., Nella, who was a near-twin of Hilda because Olga married late]. 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 [fried banana] 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 [Indonesian nanny] 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 someone. I miss him terribly. He is such splendid company and keeps me alive and full of interest in the world's goings-on. He always has theories or plans or thoughts to speak about.

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.  [End of fragment.]

Olga to Her Husband Bram, December 1908

Dear Bram,
Here we are, oh how I wish you were with us! Jan [one of Olga's three younger brothers] was at the station to help us, the darling. We were within an hour at Modjokerto, having taken two badots there. We arrived in five more 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 was sweet and coquettish 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 [container of food] on her head, a monkey on her shoulder and a great welcome in her mouth. I had to get with Baby in the tandoe [rickshaw or sedan carriage - see photo] because we had to cross three rivers – but afterwards we got out and walked up the mountain with Stine.

Tandoe like one used by Olga and baby in Indonesia.

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,  December 1908

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 big letter to you all.
Mary, I’m delighted with the dresses… they fit me beautiful and look elegant.
Rosie and Mies, your dressing gowns were most welcome.
Hilda, I thank you in the name of our daughter for the brooch.
Mary, thank for the little doll.
I congratulate Robert and Rosie [Phibbs] 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 overwhelmed 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 surrounded 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 neighbour. Teau though 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 and 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