HAERLEM, _July_ 1_st_.
The sky was clear and blue when we left the Hague, and we travelled along
a shady road for about an hour, then down sunk the carriage into a
sand-bed, and we were dragged along so slowly that I fell into a profound
repose. How long it lasted is not material; but when I awoke, we were
rumbling through Leyden. There is no need to write a syllable in honour
of this illustrious city: its praises have already been sung and said by
fifty professors, who have declaimed in its university, and smoked in its
gardens. So let us get out of it as fast as we can, and breathe the cool
air of the wood near Haerlem, where we arrived just as day declined. Hay
was making in the fields, and perfumed the country far and wide with its
reviving fragrance. I promised myself a pleasant walk in the groves,
took up Gesner, and began to have pretty pastoral ideas; but when I
approached the nymphs that were dispersed on the meads, and saw faces
that would have dishonoured a flounder, and heard accents that would have
confounded a hog, all my dislike to the walking filth of the Low
Countries returned. I let fall the garlands I had wreathed for the
shepherds; we jumped into the carriage, and were driven off to the town.
Every avenue to it swarmed with people, whose bustle and agitation seemed
to announce that something extraordinary was going forward. Upon inquiry
I found it was the great fair at Haerlem; and before we had advanced much
farther, our carriage was surrounded by idlers and gingerbread-eaters of
all denominations. Passing the gate, we came to a cluster of little
illuminated booths beneath a grove, glittering with toys and
looking-glasses. It was not without difficulty that we reached our inn,
and then the plague was to procure chambers; at last we were
accommodated, and the first moment I could call my own has been dedicated
to you.
You won’t be surprised at the nonsense I have written, since I tell you
the scene of the riot and uproar from whence it bears date. At this very
moment the confused murmur of voices and music stops all regular
proceedings: old women and children tattling; apes, bears, and show-boxes
under the windows; French rattling, English swearing, outrageous
Italians, frisking minstrels; _tambours de basque_ at every corner;
myself distracted; a confounded squabble of cooks and haranguing German
couriers just arrived, their masters following open-mouthed; nothing to
eat, the steam of ham and flesh-pots all the while provoking their
appetite; Mynheers very busy with the realities, and smoking as
deliberately as if in a solitary lusthuys over the laziest canal in the
Netherlands; squeaking chambermaids in the galleries above, and prudish
dames below, half inclined to receive the golden solicitations of certain
beauties for admittance, but positively refusing them the moment some
creditable personage appears; eleven o’clock strikes; half the lights in
the fair are extinguished; scruples grow less and less delicate; Mammon
prevails, darkness and complaisance succeed. Good-night; may you sleep
better than I shall.