Archive for the ‘Werner Philipp’ Category

My highly esteemed friend,

Dear Mr. Lippincott,

Before me is your dear kind letter dated July 8th. My! How very long mail takes today! I thank you with all my heart for the generous enclosure, for the 15$ you were so kind to send me. I cannot find words to thank you! You have a wonderful heart, a wonderful soul! May the Almighty return it to you a hundredfold. May you always enjoy the best of health—may you never want! Such is my daily prayer for you, you goodhearted noble being! I am sure I never will be able to return the dollars—the numerous, many dollars you have sent me. That is really one of the principal things I want to live for, to prove my great gratitude to you. Otherwise life has very little charm for me.

I have a daughter—we lived together 37 years!! I provided for her 37 years, and at that high age she all of a sudden decided to marry. In one way, of course, I am happy that she married the man of her choice and that she married a man of good standing and a good position—but I have lost her! Unfortunately I do not agree at all with my son in law. Why? I am sure I do not know. I think he does not like old ladies and does not like to hear of my ailments, ailments which old age brings. We had one great difference when they first lived here in my flat. In a few words I will tell you, dear Mr. Lippincott. He lived here with Olga, had the privilege of the whole flat, barring one back room which was let and brought 50 marks. My son in law agreed to pay everything, but he had the advantage of my reasonable rent (I have the contract for the flat—he pocketed the 50 marks which the back room brought—and I was to pay him 130 marks a month for my living besides 10 pfennigs for every telephone call. I did that 3 months. The 3rd month I said that I thought 130 marks was quite a good deal for me to pay as I am a very poor eater—hardly eat anything and I asked whether he would not be satisfied with 100 marks. I must remark that all my friends and acquaintances thought that I did not pay anything. Well, there was a great fuss about my question and he was mortified to have his and my acquaintances know that I was paying him for my living here. They canceled their written agreement with me and left after 3 months. Ever since then we are not friends any more. And today yet, when I recall this matter, I am of no other opinion than at that time: my son in law did not act gentlemanly toward me ——–

I am sorry to have troubled you, with my letter dated July 18th, but it was just one month that I had sent the little chain and I was worried that 4 weeks had passed and I without news whether it had arrived. I am very happy that it is in your possession and happy that you like it and are wearing it. May it bring you a world of good luck.

I have had a long letter from Mr. Burgess. He says he has known the Herrmanns since years and never heard of a Mrs. Smith. He advises me not to answer that insolent letter and is kind enough to give me the address of the lawyer of the Magic Circle in New York and has advised me to write to him—maybe he knows something about Mrs. Herrmann’s will. You are right, dear Mr. Lippincott, Mrs. S. has the upper hand, but I am not done with her yet. Meanwhile I will try and toil and work honestly as I have done all my life and so gain the esteem of my acquaintances and friends.

Times are very hard and very exciting. I never thought politics would effect me so! Last week I was very busy, looking over my calendars of the years 1924, 25, and 26, writing out the lessons a baritone Mr. Werner Philipp had—he did not pay them, and is earning a lot of money now singing Radio, belonging to a quartet. Imagine, he has had 229 lessons and only charging him 6 marks a lesson, realizes the sum of 1374 marks which he owes me. Miss Meri’s brother is a Dr. Meger here in Berlin, quite a noted lawyer. As Miss Meri does not pay anything, her brother has taken this case in hand and will sue Mr. Philipps if he does not pay. I hope something will come of it.

Well, Mr. Lippincott, do enjoy your vacation, go swimming and sailing, but take good care of yourself and be sweet and send me a line from your summer resort. Pray for me! Do! Of course, this house work almost kills me and I am unfortunately not accustomed to it. My occupation was a sitting one and now it is just the contrary. I think you would laugh to see me work. Oh, by the way,  I am not doing any more cooking—I have my dinner sent in. Right opposite my flat is a private table, a lady that cooks and sends out the dinners. The dinner is brought in a very clean menage—very nice clean white porcelain dishes and they fetch the dishes in half an hour again. Price 90 pfennigs and 10 pfennigs tip, all in all 1 mark! The dinner is quite good, is all one can ask for that price, but thank Heaven I need not go out shopping for meat and vegetables and need not wash dishes nor pots. Fancy they send out about 30 dinners every day, it is a great comfort and relief for me.

Once more a million of thanks. I end these lines, as I began them, with a world of thanks. You do not begin to know the good you are doing. You do not begin to know how grateful I am. God bless you and shield you from every harm and danger. In everlasting gratitude and truth, sincerely


I happen to see on your business paper that you have a representative house in Paris. Dear Mr. Lippincott, would it be possible to find out who owns the house Rue Maleville No. 2 in Paris? It did belong to my relations by the name of Sachse, they were 3 brothers Fernand, Emile, and Charles Sachse, and if the house was sold then I was to have a share. The house is sold. but I do not know to whom nor can I possible find the Sachse brothers—more in my next letter. Perhaps you are my guardian angel and can help me to some of my inheritance. Only please forgive me troubling you.

My highly esteemed friend,

Dear Mr. Lippincott,

On my desk before me is your dear letter dated August 2nd, again kindly graciously enclosing 15 dollars. You dear good soul, I am sure you are depriving yourself to help me. The reason I do not write oftener because alas I have nothing good to write and I hate to lament—hate to stir your dear heart, but I am a poor wretch! Everything but everything goes wrong..

Before all, I certainly answered your dear letter of July 5th and I thanked you sincerely for the enclosure of 15 dollars. I repeat it, I am afraid you are depriving yourself because who in the world can spare today 15$ a month. You are a wizard and can see through my heart. I am thinking of you, dear friend, almost incessantly. Thinking of your person, your beautiful behavior when you were here,, your modesty and generosity.

This month, the 3rd of August, it was just one year that I had the pleasure to meet Miss Dunbar on the 4th of Aug. We had breakfast together in my dining room. How is this charming young lady? What is she doing? Please give her my kind regards.

Not a word from Mrs. Smith—is that not fearful? Mr. Burgess whom I sent a copy of Mrs. S’s letter, advises me not to answer the letter and says he has known the Herrmann’s since years but has never heard of a relation by the name of Smith! What shall I do? Surely I cannot let the whole thing rest and lose everything what I ought to have! Am I not an unfortunate woman?

Now please listen—I have had a pupil baritone by the name of Werner Philipps and he owes me quite a little fortune. He has had 229 lessons and charging him only 6 marks a lesson, it makes the handsome sum of 1374 marks. I have had to wait about 6 years until he was earning something. Now he has a splendid engagement since half a year. He is with the quartet called The Harmony Gents, singing radio and concretizing. Two weeks ago I wrote him a very nice polite letter begging him, as he is earning nicely, to think of me and remit monthly a small sum. Instead of answering himself, he answered through a lawyer, letting me know the claim was out-yeared. Miss Meri had her singing lesson when this letter came. She saw how upset I was about it and asked me to let her have that letter, that she would like to show it to her brother who is a well known lawyer in Berlin, Dr. Meyer. She said it would not cost me anything. Now I am trying and fighting for this. Is it not exasperating that such dishonest people live in this world and get through all right? After Mr. Philipps was my pupil for 8 months, he was able to give a concert here in Berlin and I sold about 200 marks worth of tickets for him. The critics were unanimously glorious. Philipps did try then to pay me 50 marks out of the concert receipts, but I would not accept it, sating that this was the first money he earned in his new profession. Well, I did not accept it. I never heard of such a thing, that the debt should be out-yeared! Why, Caruso paid his singing lessons after years. His teacher had to sue him, but he paid every cent. A teacher must have patience and wait until his pupil is successful and able to pay. You can imagine, dear friend, how all this excites me and riles me up.

And out political affairs—what in the world is going to happen? Yesterday I had a letter from Mrs. Dante, the wife of the great celebrated magician Dante, written on board S.S. Gen. San Martin en route for Las Palmas, where they change boats for South Africa, opening at the Empire Theatre, Johannesburg, late in August. She writes: Our Brazilian tour was cut short account of Revolution and we were very lucky to get away. Troops and guns all over the streets and around the theatre where we were leaving from. Will write you from Las Palmas! I am copying these few lines for you, dear friend, because this is so interesting! Dante is a very enterprising man. He travels with his own scenery, his own orchestra and stage hands—carloads of baggage—a wife and 5 children, all grown up, who assist on the stage. Mrs. Dante sent me some marvelous Brazilian stamps for my postage album. She also sent me the whole set from the Vatican in Rome—awfully kind of her.

I don’t know if all this is of interest to you. It is to you, and only to you, my dear friend, that I owe my good dinner today. It is Sunday and I went across the street in a Russian restaurant. It has quite a good name. The owner was major in Kief before the war. So I spent 2 marks 60 today, for me a big sum, but thanks to you I ventured it today—once more thanks!

Oh, if I could only do something for you! Tell me, dear Mr. Lippincott, is there anything I can do for you? I suppose you read in the newspapers about our rent, the rent of apartment, everything has changed and it is not out yet what we shall have to pay in September. Disgraceful! but unfortunately true.

It is 9 in the evening, will put my canary to bed and then go down with my little dog. He is such a good companion, such a friend to me! I love him dearly.

God bless you dearest Mr. Lippincott. I hope that you will take a vacation after your heavy winter work. It is months that I have been in no theatre and in no moving picture theatre—no opera—nowhere, as I really cannot afford it. Once more, God’s blessing for you. Keep well and happy, and please write soon, but your own handwriting. I love it so.

Heartiest, sincerest thanks, as your ever grateful


My highly esteemed friend,

Dear Mr. Lippincott,

Thanks ever so much for your dear letter dated November 7th, again enclosing your wonderful gift of $15. You generous, good soul—you good noble-hearted soul, a world of thanks to you! If you could only have a look over here and see the wonderful good you are doing!  If you could only see what I am going through. If you could only look into my desolate heart, you would see just a little how I appreciate your benevolence and what a deserving creature I am! A world of thanks, dear Mr. Lippincott, and how good and kind of you to write in your own handwriting—I love that handwriting! It tells me lots—but you did not quite understand my last letter. I spoke of moving into a smaller space—by that I did not mean a smaller apartment, I only meant into a smaller place in my apartment. Perhaps I did not speak plain enough. I meant that should my daughter and her husband return from Russia and decide to live with me, that I will let them have the front room in which I slept and lived until now and move into a back space—called the servant’s room.

Olga and her husband returned the 3rd of this month and are really living in my apartment, occupying the front room. It made a terrible change! The moving round of furniture. In the small space I am occupying my bed could not be placed, so the bed is folded together and stands in the back entry and I am sleeping on a small couch. I have your dear blanket, that black and white checkered blanket you so kindly made me a present of when you left Berlin. That dear blanket is my guardian every night. I cannot say things are pleasant. I feel I am nothing any more. My son in law, when he was in Russia, he used to allow me 100 marks every month for rent, gas, telephone—that amount was sent to me by his firm, the A.E.G., but when he is in Berlin he cannot give me anything. He paid the rent this month—of course he has to do that as he is living here, but he has not given me one single cent besides. I am only telling you all this, dear friend, so that you should know what an uncomfortable life this is, and that magistrate affair is not settled yet, nor is the affair Herrmann. I must make up my mind to write again to Mr. Clinton Burgess to New York, to let him know in some sure way that I am really Prof. C. Herrmann’s daughter—and not an imposter as Mrs. Smith declares I am no relation whatever and on the 26th inst. is the second trial at court for my claim against my pupil Mr. Werner Phillip.

How long my son in law will remain here? That I do not know. Of course, he is trying his very best to travel again, it pays better. My pen will not write at all, I have to stop almost after every word. It must have been nice for you, dear friend, to be out of town a short while—you seem to work so hard and you ought to have a change! I would only love to see you again once more ere I close my eyes for ever—will you not let me have a small picture of you? a picture that I can put in my satchel? Do please dear! Xmas and New Year are nearing. With all my heart I do pray for happy days for you. Heaven give you a world of blessings. God give you the best of health—the best of luck and fortune. Once more a world of thanks to you. Believe me in everlasting gratitude and esteem. Your poor unfortunate but ah so grateful old Corelli.

Please write soon.

My highly esteemed friend,

Dear Mr. Lippincott,

Thank Heaven I am in receipt of your dear letter dated February 2nd enclosing again your wonderful generous gift of $15 for which I can only say most sincere heartfelt thanks! You dear, precious, good hearted soul! How will I ever be able to reward you? surely not on this earth—but if there is such a thing possible, I will guard every one of your steps and protect you from all harm and evil when I shall be in a far better land than here. God really sent you to me, as my guardian angel. God bless you, dear friend, and God repay you all your goodness to poor me. Once more, a world of thanks!

In the beginning of my letter I said that thank Heaven I am in receipt of your letter dated February 2nd. I was already very anxious since it was more than a month since I heard from you, dear friend, and the daily papers bring distressing, alarming news from the States, about the weather, the blizzard, snow storms, and I always pray to God that he may guard and protect you.

And no letter came for my birthday, my 80th birthday, which distressed me a good deal. Did you receive the newspaper I sent you February 6th? Mr. Ullstein, owner of the B.F. wrote and begged me to allow him to sent his best photographer to me, to take my photo in my studio, and to allow him the honor to bring my picture on my birthday in his paper. I suppose I received about 100 congratulations from all parts of the world. On the 4th precisely a registered letter came from St. Paulo, Brazil from Dr. and Mrs. Haas enclosing a 20 mark note begging me in their letter to kindly accept those 20 marks for flowers. A bouquet of lilies of the valley came by mail from Essen/a.Ruhr from Dr. and Mrs. Mücke—ever so many telegrams, letters, and callers! I have about 120 answers to give and I think will do it publicly through the same paper that brought my picture, the B.F. You see, dear friend, that I have a rich, an artistic life behind me—esteemed and honored by everybody—only these wretched times—politics and the dreadful whirl in business have ruined me entirely! This very month I have again lost 100 marks in my business and this horrible thing about the Hauszeissteuer is not yet settled! Quite incredible!! But I am willing to bear anything and everything in my life—sleep on bare wood—eat almost nothing—just vegetate—but only not have disagreeableness in my house. That just kills me! I must say I am too good natured—I have never harmed a fly and here to all insults and bad expressions I have learnt to keep my mouth shut—not to answer anything. I think that makes them wild. I have one great comfort and delight and that was that my son in law was ordered to leave for Mostram [?] on February 1st. He left on the 2nd inst. and consequently was not in Berlin on the 4th. That was my greatest happiness. Today is the 15th and thank Heaven he is not back yet! and it seems he will be gone yet another week. I have never read of such goings on, not even in a novel.

The affair Herrmann-Smith is done for. I must send you the letter from the New York American Austrian Embassy so you will see for yourself.

Another terrible news for me is I had a letter from Mrs. Clinton Burgess telling me of the death of her husband Mr. Burgess. Too bad! I did not know him personally, only through correspondence—if you remember, dear friend, I wrote to Mr. Burgess and thanked him for the article he wrote about my aunt Mrs. Herrmann in the Magicians paper. I think it is called The Missing Link.

My left foot has been pretty bad. I had no treatment and did nothing whatever—since yesterday there is hardly any pain and I can walk surer, but when I see the staircase, I feel anxious and shy, like a horse does before a fence.

The evening paper brings a picture of the Chicago Exhibition which I enclose here—it is to be opened in June. That will surely bring visitors and I hope business. Business, so people say, is decidedly picking up, but political riots which end in death occur daily! Everyone has great faith and hopes in Hitler.

My lawsuit against Mr. Philipp, who owes me money for tuition, has been postponed twice. Why? that I do not know. He is to take the poor debtors oath now. I suppose that is the reason of the postponement.

Well, dear good friend, thanks a thousand times. I only wish you would have been here on my birthday. I think then you would begin to know who I am, but alas, I am poor! Poor through these abominable political times. I hope I shall live to see better times yet and to prove my gratitude to my guardian angel Hall Lippincott. Take good care of yourself. If the weather should change and become warmer, please please do not change to lighter underclothing. Be sure, dear friend, to keep on your winter garments.

Lots of love and lots of thanks from

Your ever grateful, sincere