270
12 Coda
might have lived another decade. Unfortunately, it was not to be so. In the fall
of 1921 the first signs appeared of the fatal disease that would kill him.
In January 1922 Kapteyn wrote to George Hale:
My health has not been too good lately and I am writing in bed. After we left
Groningen my wife and I were planning to travel for most of the year. We could
do that without too much expense and it would give me time to rest after a
very busy last year. We have been to Switzerland, various parts of Germany,
Scotland and England and had a good time there. Since about the beginning of
October, however, I did not feel well and after about a month in Leiden, where I
was appointed adjunct-director (a position that takes about 1/7 of my time) we
stayed in Amsterdam with our son-in-law, Prof. Noordenbos, where I entrusted
myself to the hands of the medical profession. Fortunately nothing serious was
found and the expectation is that soon I will feel normal again. Only the pains
can go on for another month or more.
But it did not get any better. We do not know what Kapteyn was suffering
from, but a form of cancer like Kahler’s disease seems most likely. It occurs in
the bone marrow and causes pain. Cancer was responsible for 15-20% of all
deaths at the time.
Apparently Kapteyn himself was not aware of the seriousness of the situation,
because in letters he continued to allude to a complete recovery. He no longer
left the house of the Noorderbos family, where he was nursed until the end
by his wife, his eldest daughter and his second daughter, who had been in
Amsterdam permanently for the last month. After her husband’s death, Mrs.
Kapteyn told George Hale in a letter that her daughter (I presume the eldest,
who was a physician herself ) told her at the end of April that there was no
chance of recovery (Fig. 12.11).
Kapteyn died in Amsterdam on 18 June 1922.
Henriette Hertzsprung–Kapteyn wrote in her biography [1]:
Many true friends followed him to the Westerveld cemetery; no official homage,
which the family had declined, expecting to act in his spirit, only true love and
friendship accompanied him. Van Anrooy played on the organ the poignant
closing choir from Bach’s Saint Matthew Passion:
‘Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder
Und rufen dir im Grabe zu:
Ruhe sanfte, sanfte Ruh.’
And his friend Bordewijk spoke loving words with an emotional voice. That was
all, but the beautiful music for the friend, the deeply felt words, the silent sorrow
12 Coda
might have lived another decade. Unfortunately, it was not to be so. In the fall
of 1921 the first signs appeared of the fatal disease that would kill him.
In January 1922 Kapteyn wrote to George Hale:
My health has not been too good lately and I am writing in bed. After we left
Groningen my wife and I were planning to travel for most of the year. We could
do that without too much expense and it would give me time to rest after a
very busy last year. We have been to Switzerland, various parts of Germany,
Scotland and England and had a good time there. Since about the beginning of
October, however, I did not feel well and after about a month in Leiden, where I
was appointed adjunct-director (a position that takes about 1/7 of my time) we
stayed in Amsterdam with our son-in-law, Prof. Noordenbos, where I entrusted
myself to the hands of the medical profession. Fortunately nothing serious was
found and the expectation is that soon I will feel normal again. Only the pains
can go on for another month or more.
But it did not get any better. We do not know what Kapteyn was suffering
from, but a form of cancer like Kahler’s disease seems most likely. It occurs in
the bone marrow and causes pain. Cancer was responsible for 15-20% of all
deaths at the time.
Apparently Kapteyn himself was not aware of the seriousness of the situation,
because in letters he continued to allude to a complete recovery. He no longer
left the house of the Noorderbos family, where he was nursed until the end
by his wife, his eldest daughter and his second daughter, who had been in
Amsterdam permanently for the last month. After her husband’s death, Mrs.
Kapteyn told George Hale in a letter that her daughter (I presume the eldest,
who was a physician herself ) told her at the end of April that there was no
chance of recovery (Fig. 12.11).
Kapteyn died in Amsterdam on 18 June 1922.
Henriette Hertzsprung–Kapteyn wrote in her biography [1]:
Many true friends followed him to the Westerveld cemetery; no official homage,
which the family had declined, expecting to act in his spirit, only true love and
friendship accompanied him. Van Anrooy played on the organ the poignant
closing choir from Bach’s Saint Matthew Passion:
‘Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder
Und rufen dir im Grabe zu:
Ruhe sanfte, sanfte Ruh.’
And his friend Bordewijk spoke loving words with an emotional voice. That was
all, but the beautiful music for the friend, the deeply felt words, the silent sorrow