Trip Over From Bremen

Dysart Hotel

Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square,

London, W.

Telegrams:

“Dorhawk, London”

Telephone No: 676 Mayfair

Sallie dear:

Doesn’t this look natural?  We just arrived this afternoon after a lovely trip over from Bremen on the “Crown Princess Cecilie”. She is a most beautiful ship, and we had huge cabins with brass beds, hot and cold water big, roomy wardrobes, and comfortable wicker chairs.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen such grandeur that I forgot it existed outside of catalogues and travel pamphlets.  She is the biggest thing I’ve ever been on (The G.W. is still larger.) and I got lost every time I turned around.  The upper deck is all enclosed in glass, and the main music room extends the whole width of the ship, is beautifully furnished in rose, and during tea the orchestra gives a wonderful concert there.  Then, too, I think on those German boats you get he best things to eat in the world, without any exception.

Father went down for the mail and brought me the one from you.  I don’t know what to tell you about the question that seems so important the way you talk about it, and yet I never thought of it that way.  Why will people ask so many questions?  As I said, I didn’t want a bit of fuss, but since you mention the fact that Ruth wanted to give something for me it put an idea into my head, and that is that in that case it would be a nice thing to look back on if I could announce Marie’s engagement, and she Ruth’s.  Don’t you think so?  Marie’s letters seem rather undecided, although she admits that she cares for this Ray quite seriously.  And Ruth, I think, is usually practically engaged all the time, so perhaps we can arrange some clever little scheme all together.  This is the only thing that holds me back from saying to tell any one who asks you, so now that is another complication.  Ruth has said nothing to me about it, so of course I can say nothing till she does.

Clarion will certainly be swamped.  Every letter from Lover tells me of some more people who have promised to come for our wedding, or encloses letters from various classmates or former sweethearts who have heard of his engagement and are writing to congratulate him and say that they shall certainly be with him on the fateful day.

A letter from Mrs. Wiggie says she has been desperately ill – was taken to the hospital in Manila, operated on, and then had paralysis of the intestines, didn’t eat a bite for sixteen days, and lost 25 pounds.  The doctors gave her up as dead, but she somehow managed to pull through, and is better now – up in Baguio for the hot weather.  She is one of the finest women I know.

I can’t imagine how any of those Penn Hall girls ever heard that I was engaged, for I never even write to any of them, except Helen Norris and Christine, and I haven’t mentioned it to them.  Ruth must have thought I valued her friendship highly to tell them before telling her.  I should really like to know how they ever knew.

You are in Pittsburg now I suppose.  My how I wish I could be there and have you to shop with me.  Tomorrow I must set forth for some clothes, and I was thinking this morning how much happier I should feel about it if you could go with me.  You’re a wonder in shopping, and the only person in the world I ever like to have with me.  You always make me get more than I ever would alone, and then to make me feel as though it were all right.

Must send Mrs. Farrow a note and ask her if it will be convenient for us to come on Monday the eleventh.

Oceans of love,

Alice

May 6, 1914

Dog Carts & Tulips *****

Amstel Hotel1

Amsterdam  May 2, 1914

Shang dear:

We have become typical American tourists seeing Europe.  Armed with a Baedeker, we fly from one place to the next till I have to stop and think before I can remember where we were last.  One thing to our credit though – we go to see only those things we are really anxious to see.

In Antwerp the important thing is the Cathedral, which is filled with Ruben’s masterpieces, as you doubtless know;  among them is his famous “Descent from the Cross” and many other wonderful ones.

We enjoyed the Hague.  It doesn’t seem like a real city, and the Peace Palace is very gorgeous inside – to my mind too ornate and looks almost tawdry, especially considering what it stands for.  Then we went out to Scheveningen, the New Port of Holland, which is beautifully laid out and a delightful resort, as such places go.  From there we went to Delft, a quaint but interesting spot.

I suppose you, an expert gardener, know that Holland supplies practically the whole world with bulbs, and I wish you could be here now to see the fields – a perfect blaze of color, and all through the parks and streets are huge beds of hyacinths, tulips and daffodils.  Coming along in the train, we passed miles of solid color: pink, yellow, blue, white and all shades of red.  The fields of scarlet tulips were almost blinding in the sunlight, and the air was filled with their fragrance.  On every street corner is a vender with baskets full or a cart buried in blossoms and, as are most of the smaller carts here hauled by one, two or three dogs.  Someday I’m going to specialize in tulips, and jonquils and daffodils.

I’ve been thinking it over, and have decided that in traveling, one’s point of view which undergoes the most radical and frequent changes is that on the subject of breakfast.  Goodness me, if anyone at home offered me anything but a shreaded wheat biscuit, I should be insulted, while in Samoa we indulged in fresh green cocoanuts.  In New Zealand there was always on the table a dish of crisp, dewy lettuce – the dew sufficing for mayonnaise.  In Java smoked salmon, raisin bread and eggs.  Burma gives what is the usual luncheon menu, from soup through fish, meat, poultry, curry but minus the pudding, instead of which they serve toast and jam and then fruit.  India the same, omitting soup.  On the German steamers I never miss a German pancake (and fruit), and as you know all over Europe one is satisfied with coffee and rolls.

I munched on a roll and let father have my coffee, but here I am working up again to the more elaborate English repast by having one morning a bowl of sour cream and the next a piece of cheese on a slice of brown bread eaten with knife and fork in true Dutch fashion.  They do have such good dairy things here, and always brown bread in every shade from lightest tan to inky black.  Also delicious currant buns and plain honey cake.

Today we had an all day’s expedition to Edam, where we watched them make the cheese, and then saw the market for them and it looked to be filled with dozens of oranges, or rather grapefruit – huge piles on the brick pavements, but they turned out to be hundreds of cheese ready for export.  Then to Vollendam where they all dress most picturesquely, and the quaint little houses are in a chronic state of being scrubbed.  Everyone does nothing but scrub, and from there by sail boat to the island of Marken.

The houses are most interesting.  On the outside look like this [sketch].  The high roof serves two purposes, that of collecting rain water, and is also the cover for the hay stack, because you see, inside it’s something like this [sketch].  A little entrance hall, at the left a big bedroom and living room combined, because the beds are built in like closets with a door. Across the head of the bed is a little one like a tiny upper bunk for a baby. Isn’t that a cute idea?  They shut themselves up tight without a breath of air, but everything is painfully clean.   Well, then just through the hall are all the stalls for the cattle, and around the corner the blue and white tiled kitchen with a big cheese press taking up one whole side.  The cattle are kept in there for six months, were just turned a couple of days ago, and now gambol on the green for six months, never poking their noses inside the stable all that time.

These people are the strongest, healthiest looking lot I’ve seen for ages.  The babies are fat and rosey cheeked, the women big and strong.  They pad their hips just below their waistline  and then wear enormously full skirts, and the men look even twice their natural size in voluminous bloomers, heavy wooden shoes and high caps.  We went into several of their houses, and they simply shone from their vigorous scrubbings. The chief decoration seems to be valuable old pieces of china and pottery, and they are very cozy and home like.

The last couple of days here have been freezing cold, but this evening it is warmer.  We sail from Bremen on the Crown Princess Cecile on the fifth for Southampton, and I am longing to reach England.  It will seem more like home, and is really the last lap of our two years.

Had a letter from Sue Carter saying John Charles had whooping cough.  Glenn was away on a business trip.  Arthur weighs 170, and is better than he has been for ages.  Father had such a fine letter from little Margaret2.  She was lamenting the fact that she had just been changing the water in the gold-fish bowl, and by mistake poured in hot water.  No need to go further with such a harrowing tale.

It must be glorious at home now.  The spring here simply thrills my soul.  Think of not seeing a change of season for two years!

Oceans of love,

Alice

Please tell the Angel not to forget to send me those bills for my Chinese linens.

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1 http://www.amsterdam.intercontinental.com/?src=ppc_google_brandamstel

Still in business 2009

2 His granddaughter, Alice’s niece: Margaret Selden Ross b. September 30, 1902

In his Native Heath he is Doubly Attractive *****

Cecil Hotel1 Telephone A

Bruxelles                                                                                                                                                9344

Sallie dearest:

A fine lot of mail was waiting for us here, and your letter as always, was the first I opened.  It is fine that Cousin Fran and Clarence could “stop off” with you.  That’s like the people who have told me they have been through Clarion on the train.  The letter you enclosed was just a note from that Panama “bean” [?] who was in Wisconsin and had just run over to see my Station.  He thought it fine, and got there just in time for some kind of drill.

I suppose father told you about our lovely trip up the Rhein.  It was the most beautiful time of year, I think, to take it for the fruit trees are like great balls of popcorn, the fields a fresh, brilliant green, and everything flourishing.  All the old castles are very picturesque, and the Lorelei rocks gave me quite a thrill.  We spent a day or two each in Nuremberg, Frankfurt and Cologne – the cathedral being the only thing of interest there, but it is quite enough.  We were unfortunate in being there during “Adoration Week”, when they were holding services all day long, so we were not allowed to ramble around, but the lighting and music were wonderful, and we managed to see it pretty well.  The outside is so elaborate and so gigantic, it’s quite impossible – for me, at least- to take it all in.

I’m worried to pieces now about this old Mexican trouble, for it seems to be getting more serious every day.  The Paris and London papers have great headlines telling about all the Americans abroad hastening home, all government officials instructed to keep military attaches, etc. posted so that they may come home immediately if needed, etc.  I’m expecting and fearing any minute that a cable will come from Lover saying he’s off for the border.  In his last letters, which of course are two weeks old, he says if war breaks out he’ll do everything in his power to get there.  Opportunities come seldom enough, and he doesn’t want to miss this one.  So now that war really has been declared, I don’t know what he will do.  He was terribly distressed over a tooth he had just broken – a front one, and said the gold filling would have to be so big it would show dreadfully.

Yesterday we went out to the Battlefield of Waterloo – it takes only twenty minutes by train – and drove all over it.  Saw Wellington’s and Napoleon’s headquarters in the old farm houses, and found it all very interesting.

Do you remember Mr. Schillinger, the German consul in Lake Forrest, a great friend of Jack London’s?  I told you about meeting him in Manila last year, and [he] took me driving etc. a great deal.  Well, the other night in Munich while I was dressing for dinner up came his card, and I hurried down to find him arrayed in miles of gold lace, silver spurs, and dangling sword.  I have always liked him tremendously, but in his native heath he is doubly attractive.  His delightful German manners, combined with their rigorous military training makes him all that you picture and expect in a bristling, bescrubbed  and stern, yet jovial looking German officer. They serve so much time periodically in the army, and he has now come home for six months on that account.  We had an animated chat, and I wanted him to drive with us, but his mother wasn’t well and he felt he must be with her, but came back right afterwards, and we talked till late.  He was quite grieved that he hadn’t known before that we were there, as we were leaving the next day, but he is coming on to Amsterdam, so we’ll have a gay time there.  He thought I’d understand anything, so didn’t always bother to speak English, and his German accent is wonderful.  The mere beauty and sound of it so fascinated me, I would forget to think of the meaning of all he was saying.  If I thought I could ever acquire it, I should start studying this minute.

I wonder if you remember too Aldin from L.F.  He and his wife called one day, and I recall walking down along the lake front with them, and you and Shang too were there.  We saw him in Munich.

Father is feeling better, but his side of course is still very sore.  The doctor said it will take about five weeks to heal.  He simply lives, now, from one evening to the next when the London edition of the New York Herald will bring more news of the war.

Ocean of love,

Alice

April 26, 1914

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1 http://www.hotelledome.com/Hotel_Le_Dome_Home.html

Hotel is in business under new name, 2009

I Kiss Your Hand

Hotel Bristol1

Wien

Vienna, Austria

April 19, 1914

Angel dear:

Your nice long letter arrived several days ago.  I shall love getting the things for you in London, and am so glad you thought of them.  A few days before, Shang’s fine, newsy letter came, so I was as happy as a queen.

I needed cheering up, because father feels so wretchedly that I’m quite worried about him.  Did he tell you that in Budapest while taking one of his fancy baths the man who was massaging him pressed too hard on that rib that has been broken several times, and either broke it again or strained it badly.  Anyhow, it’s been paining him dreadfully and only today have I been able to persuade him to go to a doctor, so am anxious to know what he says.  Father has been in bed off and on for half a day or more for the past month, and can eat hardly anything.  He’s lost nearly twenty pounds, too.

As a result, we have done very little strenuous sight-seeing , but have enjoyed the opera, and it is good to hear real music once more.  We heard “Parsifal”.  It lasted over five hours, and was wonderful.  I thought it had the most perfect lighting and stage effects I had ever seen, but the next night we went to “Das Rheingold” and it even surpassed it.  As you doubtless know, the first scene is laid under the Rhein at twilight and the way those three daughters “float” around in midair, arrayed as mermaids, waving their arms continually to simulate swimming, never touching “bottom” for over half an hour, and singing beautifully all the time is nothing short of marvelous.  I had to pinch myself every few minutes to realize it wasn’t water and they were real women.

We dined at the Ambassador’s not long ago.  They live in a very grand house, and entertain in the way that is supposed to impress you as homelike, but really is formal from the word go.  Their life is most artificial and superficial, and although I know that is the “game” I shouldn’t want to be a Mrs. Ambassador for all the political and social precedence in the world.

I always forget to tell you about a little custom they have all through here of saying to a woman in German “I kiss your hand”.  I step into the elevator and the man makes a profound bow and says “I kiss your hand.” I am bowed out of the dining room in the same way, and just now when I asked “Buttons” to close the door, he first had to “kiss my hand”.  Oh!  I do like German people.  The policemen are perfectly splendid – so good about showing us the way, and when I get into a discussion with the train car conductor, everyone gathers around eager to help me in whatever way they can.  The clerks in the shops never wink an eyelash, but act as though I spoke German like a native, and manage to understand anything I say.  The whole city seems to be nothing but eating places of every description, size and price, so we usually have lunch or dinner at one of them, and often try Hungarian or Viennese things, which are usually very good.

Lover’s last letter quite made my heart stop beating as it enclosed a printed copy of a form now reposing at the War Department requesting the leave of three months and twenty days (which is due him) to go home by way of Europe to the States to be married.  This to commence on or about October 1^st and an extension of one years foreign service in China, as he is studying Mandarin, which is the worst language under the sun to learn – and wants to improve himself in that.  I have told you his other reasons for wanting to go back, because we can live so much better, get it over with while we’re both young, etc.  and I told him I’m perfectly willing to go back, so it now remains to be seen what Uncle Sam will say about it.  If you and Shang would come over there too, it would be perfect.

Mrs. Coffin left last night.  She was here for four days, and was with us most of the time.  She grows more interesting the better you know her, and I like her a lot.  She was having clothes made and arranging about a hospital when her baby arrives in September.

Last night we went to see “The Girl from the Golden West” as an opera in German, and it was very good.

Oh! I have so much to talk over with you, and so many questions to ask you.  You’ll wish I had never loved you so dearly, for you’ll be tired to death of me before June is ended.  Only about seven weeks to wait.

Tomorrow we leave for Munich, then on to Nuremberg and Frankfurt.

Oceans of love,

Alice

Did I send you those bills for the things that are at Mrs. Farrow’s?  I’m pretty sure I did, and will you send them to me so I can have them before leaving England?

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1 http://www.starwoodhotels.com/luxury/property/overview/history.html?propertyID=89

Still in business 2009

As Cities Go

Grand Hotel Hungaria

Budapest (Hongrie)

Burger  & Wonke directeurs

Dear Angel:

This is certainly a beautiful city as cities go, although for me it is hard to see beauty in any of them, but here there really are more fine buildings, well kept parks, wide clean streets and a sense of civic pride than any place I’ve been.  There isn’t a spot, I believe, where you can go without hearing a band – and good military ones they are too – and everyone takes their meals out of doors, or sits reading in the park as long as possible.  They know how to make the best of city life, much better than we do at home!

The consul here, Mr. Coffin, and his wife have been lovely to us.  They have a beautiful house, are quite young, and they entertain very simply, but every detail is perfect.  There are no Americans here at all, and she is dreadfully lonely, so seemed glad to have me to talk to, and we have lunch or dinner together every day this week.  Mr. Coffin would take father off somewhere, and she would send her car in for me to come out to tea with her, or go shopping or something of that sort, and although I thought at first she was cold and unsympathetic, I have discovered she is very much the other way, has read a lot, and is interested in lots of the things I am.  So we have had good times together and I like her tremendously.

It’s so long since I’ve been in a real American home that I’m supremely happy to just sit in her lovely big rooms and day dream  – piles of books, big comfortable chairs, good rugs, a few fine pictures, soft shaded lights and restful colors – oh!  I can hardly wait to have a home of my own, and it certainly isn’t going to [be] littered up with a lot of junk filling every corner and available spot.  I know you don’t believe that from your trials with me in the third floor, but I really hate a lot of stuff visible.  I admit I hate throwing things away, but will have some dark closet to hold all such treasures.

They are planning to go to Vienna the last of the week, so we can be together there.  One night we took them to the theater, the kind with – instead of seats – tables and chairs, and pretty little electric lights on each table, even in the boxes, and an excellent dinner is served.  No one dines here till after eight, so this theater commences at eight, and is over at 10:30.  Quite a good arrangement, don’t you think?

This is where all those celebrated mineral waters for rheumatism come from, [Hunyadi Janos] etc. and father has been taking the baths.  I took one the other day, combined with a Turkish one, and it was fine.  Father isn’t a bit well – hasn’t been eating much for several weeks and is getting thinner.  I think you’ll see quite a change, for he doesn’t look nearly so well as I should like, and isn’t as energetic or eager to see things as he has always been.  His circulation is very poor, and he is cold all the time – today has a sore throat and fever.  He is always so dear and patient, and yesterday had my room filled with flowers for Easter; is always thinking of little things to do for me, while I am a perfect brute and lose my temper at the slightest thing.  I flare up at the waiters if they are slow, and yesterday I hit a coachman in the back for beating his horses, till my hand smarted – oh!  If I could only half way come up to his ideals of me, and be more the kind of person he needs, I’d feel I really was accomplishing something.

What shall I do about my engagement when I reach the States?  Everyone will see my ring, and I never could see any sense in saying you aren’t engaged when you are, so please tell me what I’m to do.  I think when it will be six or seven months before we are to be married, and I’ve already been engaged so long, and no one knows Lover, that it’s silly to announce it.  Anyhow, I don’t want all that fuss made.  There would be too much confusion made and the simplest way, seems to me, is just to let people absorb the fact naturally and as it happens to get around.  However, what you say goes, but please tell me beforehand so I’ll know what to do.

I sent you a card about Mrs. Farrow not going to Canada till June, so we shall leave Holland a week sooner in order to spend a little time with them.  Be sure to tell me if there is any thing you want me to get you there, or do for you.  Oh!  Yes, will you give me that London specialist’s name and address.  Mrs. Cofin said she would like to see him as she is anemic, never strong, and is now going to have a baby, so thought it might help her to look into his diets.

Oceans of love,

Alice

April 13, 1914

We leave for Vienna this afternoon.  It is only four or five hours by rail.