The sea-faring uncle

Part 2: Johannes Petrus Stijnman (Johan, Joh, Jo, Jan)

J.P. Stijnman, 1887-1912

He’s a Thursday’s child, has far to go.  The ego-documents of this sea-faring uncle tell of the ties to home and the aspirations of family.  Who tells his story?

1909

He’s not feeling very well, but he’s signed back on anyway.  As his father Dirk (constantly) reminds him, he needs to set aside some guilders for his future, and get as much experience under his belt as possible so that his leadership destiny can be fulfilled.  But you know, it’s not all glamour, this job.  He’s up at 5 o’clock and by 5:30 he must be ready to go till midday.  After an hour for a meal, the afternoon is 1 to 7, with a half-hour mealtime and then lights out at midnight then there’s washing.  In other words, its past midnight before you get any sleep, and it’s like this all along the coast.  Dear brother,  you might imagine that even if you’re finished early and there isn’t any loading up to do, it’s still quite late before you can stretch out in your bunk and mostly you wouldn’t be warm either, and even if its calm, writing a letter isn’t top of your list of things to do. 

So, he’s feeling worse.  The recent trip back to Leiden to see family, did him some good.  The weather was overcast, a poor few weeks of summer, but at least it wasn’t windy.  Ma and Pa are settled in their new home at Plantsoen 27.  Pretty smart place, so in keeping with what Pa wanted!  Theo and Dina happy at the Burgsteeg, so gezellig at the old home with his newest sister-in-law. He’s so sorry he couldn’t get to the wedding, but he can see this is a match after his father’s own heart. The Bay of Biscay swells and rolls.

It hurts to breathe, he finds the work in the engine-room of the ship claustrophobic, more close and hot than ever. He’s rolling on the deck and even here the smell and smut of burning coal puts him off.  In the swirling winds before the smokestacks, the soot settles on his skin and blackens his vomit. 

“I’m not going to be any use shovelling coal for the minute,”  he tells the second mate crouched beside him.  The wind chases a wave over the deck, foaming in the half-light, washing away his leavings.  He’s shivering in his oilskin.

Second mate, April 1909

He’s a good man, that Joh Stijnman. Reliable. Clued up. But he’s in a fever.  He chucked up all over the deck, blood included.  I called the captain.  We’re thinking he may not make it to Port Said, let alone the East Indies.  We’re going to have to stop him off in Tangiers. 

Company agent F. de Testa, to the family

I’ll have to let you know that your son, through the excellent services of our company in Tangiers, was brought here to the French hospital.  I’ve met up with Mevrouw Ridder van Rappard, born the Baroness van Schimmelpenning, wife of our special envoy, who took a great deal of interest in the circumstances of the patient, and we have arranged that she will correspond with you. 

I enquired of the doctor about the reality of the patient’s situation, and I can put your minds at rest: it’s pneumonia. He (the doctor) had every confidence that he would survive and eventually be able to travel back to Holland, but the illness will need to take its course.  I can reassure you that he will want for nothing here. 

Pa Stijnman, April 1909.

We were absolutely shocked yesterday to get the telegram from the Rotterdam Lloyd company that Johan is in hospital.  I’ve just written to him.  It must have been pretty serious for them to have dropped him off in Tangiers, the Good Lord watch over him please!  What must it be like over there?  Do they have good Catholic doctors and nurses?  I hope he prays hard, puts all his faith in the Good Lord Jesus and we will pray to Our Lady of Lourdes.  Does he have visions?  He should pray for one!  He is so far away, what can I suggest for him?  I should ask that if he can’t write, maybe someone can write on his behalf.  My dear boy, he was so thin last time I looked!  We are so far away!  We must leave it to God to take care of him, we think always that God will help him to new strength and wellness.  We will hear more soon, I’m sure.

Is this Schimmelpenninck woman who I think she is?  Our son is so lucky to have such an esteemed person looking out for him.

I must also remind him that it’s Dina’s birthday today, and everyone is celebrating in Leiden the birth of a wonderful little princess!

Geachtend C.J. van Rappard, née Schimmelpenninck, 28 April 1909

It is my greatest pleasure to send you some news of your son, who in the circumstances is doing exceedingly well.  The doctor is very happy.  Yesterday morning his fever was down and today it’s down even lower.  On the ship it was up to 40° and now today its 37.8, so almost entirely normal. Although he is happily in hospital, he’s nevertheless vexed, and that’s perfectly understandable,  because he’s in a room on his own, and everybody here speaks French.  During the night someone is sleeping there by your son (a sort of watch), which is a good thing.  The doctor hopes that over the next four days he should be fine, without fever; and we expect that if everything continues to go well, we sincerely hope that over ten or 12 days your son can stay with us at the Envoy’s Residence to recover. He would then be able to sit in our beautiful garden and enjoy company.  Up to now, the doctor preferred that we didn’t read aloud to him, but after a few days that might also be possible.  When I was with him this morning he asked specifically for me to send you his greetings and to tell you that he really was feeling better.  It also gave him great pleasure to hear the happy news about the birth of our little princess!  I hope I have reassured you that your son wants for nothing.  The hospital is simple but very hygienic and we have recommended the patient to the doctors and nurses.  With our best wishes, I sign below:

C.J. van Rappard, née Schimmelpenninck. 

Margot (sister) 4 May 1909

Well, well, what a fright he’s given us.  That telegram from Rotterdam was like a thunderclap here.  Yesterday morning Pa and Ma came round and of course, over coffee and cake we discussed how powerless we feel, that we can’t do anything to help except send our prayers, but it seems that there is a good Samaritan nearby and he’s in capable hands.  And of course he will be overjoyed, as we are, at the news of the birth of a little princess in our land.

Theo (brother) and Dina, 8 May 1909

How shocked we were to get his news.  There he is, all alone in a strange country where no-one understands him.  Happily for Ma, news quickly followed about how he is being cared for.  Dina just celebrated her birthday, and Pa and Ma were here.  It happened to be the same day that the princess was born!  You’ve no idea how the whole country feels about the birth of this princess.  And we are expecting an addition to our own family in July.  Yesterday Pa and Ma went to Rotterdam to see the illuminations on the Willemsbrug, the ships on the Maaskade, a total show for the continuation of the Dutch dynasty through this baby. (Two of Dina’s sisters and her Aunt) have gone to Lourdes, where they will also pray for him. 

Crowds on the Kalverstraat in Amsterdam celebrate the birth of Princess Juliana, securing the line of succession to the House of Orange and the independence of the Netherlands.  Isaac Israels (1865-1934), charcoal on paper.  Dutch impressionist art. 

Though the Stijnmans are Roman Catholic and the royal family is strictly Protestant Reformed Church, the Stijnmans get swept up in the national celebrations of the birth of Juliana. The patrician hospitality of the v. Rappard couple to Jan is icing to the family cake.  Dirk Stijnman writes an extremely formal letter of thanks in return. 

Marie (sister), 1910

Pa was very pleased about Johan getting his Ocean-going Diploma for Second Mate. And that he’s found a girl, he’s getting to that stage. There’s a certain Annie Marie Lafère, from Vlissingen. Though Jan must go back to sea, we are hosting the young woman in Leiden over the Sint Nicolaas period.  An engagement must be in the wind.   

Antoon (brother), 1911

Annie came to spend time with us. It's a bit boring around here now that George has left. We haven’t heard from him recently, he’s gone off to Philadelphia, staying with cousins.  Theo has another son, Adrianus, but Margot’s health is still a concern.  Pa wasn’t so pleased about Piet – he’s gone off to den Haag to sell bakery small goods. 

Moe (mother), 3 September 1912

I got a letter from Jan wishing me happy birthday! He writes that it is nine years since he first went to sea, full of hope. We count our blessings: he says he's now in position that he can earn a good living.  It's nice to get his thanks for the support we've given him over the years.  He hopes to be back in Rotterdam by Christmas.  It will be January, he says before he can marry.  That will also suit us better after all the busy-ness of the feast days and holidays…He andAnnie spent five days together on retreat in Antwerp and we know now where he stands. It will be a lovely wedding.

Dirk Stijnman Leiden, 14 September 1912

Met Piet is het ellendig gesteld hij is failliet en hij heeft nog geen betrekking wat moet er van hem teregt komen God sta hem bij, dan ben jij er beter aan toe. Och och wat was ik eerst ongerust over je toen je te keen gaf dat je zeeman wilde worden en toen je je eerste reis op de Skandia maakt als scheepsjongen ik had toen zeker verwacht dat je er toe wel genoeg van zou gehad hebben doch ik heb het gelukkig mis gehad.  die door God word bewaard word wel bewaard. Och ik denk to altijd om Georg high is zzo goed als een tweeling broeder van je schrijf hem dikwijls. geef hem goede raad. moedig hem aan. dat geeft prikkel he zou voorjou ook zoo pleizierig zijn als hij een goede positie had. en wij worden oud. 

Piet is in a terrible situation. He's bankrupt and doesn't have a job yet. What will become of him? God help him... Och, och, how worried I was about you when you admitted you wanted to be a sailor and when you made your first voyage on the Skandia as a cabin boy. I certainly expected you to have had your fill, but thankfully I was wrong. Whom God keeps is well kept. Och, I always think of Georg he's as good as your twin brother. I write to him often. Give him good advice. Encourage him... And we're getting old.

It’s Dirk’s annus horribilis. Jan never receives this anguished cry from his father; we don’t know whether the brother in America ever receives his birthday wishes from Johan either.

J.A.P.A Stijnman (Joop), nephew, 1982

The above letter was returned, with others, with a note from the steamship company, and a death certificate, dated 19 November, 2012.  My namesake the seafaring uncle is just 25 years old. 

The family’s Death Notice in De Leidsche Courant (local newspaper) gives the Steenstraat bakery as the contact address.  Evidence that Dirk's retirement to the luxury of the Plantsoen didn't last long.

Of the cause of Johan's death, there is never any word. 

And what of Annie, the love of his short life?  She seems to have kept contact with the family for quite some time.  Eventually she remarries (Leo Peter Van Oorschot) and emigrates to the Dutch East Indies.  On 8 April 1924 she is fatally attacked by a bandit in Medan, North Sumatra. 

This blog is constructed from letters collected and transcribed by J.A.P.A Stijnman, my Oom Joop.