By Frits Lugt

I

[Plate 1. View of Amsterdam from the East. ]

Plate 1. View of Amsterdam from the East. _(reversed)_. After the etching

by Rembrandt

“The city seems to float upon the waters and looks like the sovereign of

the deep. It is crowded with merchants of every nation and its habitants

are themselves the most eminent merchants in the world. It appears, at

first, not to be the city of any particular people, but to be common to

all, as the centre of their commerce. The vessels in this harbour are so

numerous, as almost to hide the water in which they float; and the masts

look at a distance like a forest.”

“I gazed, with insatiable curiosity, upon this great city, in which

everything was in motion.”

This impression of Amsterdam by a seventeenth century author (1) takes us

back to the time when no rivals had yet contested with the town its

commercial monopoly,— when its full and radiant display struck the eyes of

every visitor. Tempted though we feel to recall this glorious past (the

period and direct surroundings of its greatest painter), we naturally take

Amsterdam’s present state as a basis, and in doing so painfully notice the

loss of precious reminiscences which the course of time has inevitably

involved. But realising that such loss is not only the consequence of

neglect and lack of respect, and that to a large degree modern life with

its different requirements and intensity forcibly causes cruel changes, we

must conquer our regrets and rather view with open eyes the vitality of

the town and the renewed energy of its present existence. Sad indeed is

the aspect of towns, known as “dead cities,” which preserve their old

architectural appearance, and where all life seems extinguished. They are

but their own shadows and a perpetual outcry against the reverses of Fate

or the relaxation of human energy, which proved unable to carry on the

aspirations of preceding generations. Fortunately Amsterdam escaped this

disgrace, because its spark of life never quite died out; the burning

vigour of its inhabitants, which was instrumental in raising the town’s

prosperity in the seventeenth century, may seem a high-flaming fire

compared to the peaceful existence of its rich population in the

eighteenth century; and it may be true that the former energy and

enterprise were reduced to glowing embers about the beginning of the

nineteenth century; but let it be recognised that the same fire always

smouldered and that it is now spreading anew with a sympathetic

stubbornness. When Motley says, in his “History of the United

Netherlands,” that the Dutch Republic was “sea-born and sea-sustained,” we

have to apply this, in the first place, to its most important town,

Amsterdam, and if we then remember that the suppression of a nation

accustomed to maritime pursuits is one of the rarest things in history, we

shall arrive at a better understanding of Amsterdam’s vitality.

In a town where life so maintained its course, we cannot expect to find

whole quarters preserved, just as they appeared in the first half of the

seventeenth century; the general disposition of the town, however, is so

original and effective that its indestructible plan survived until our

days. There are in the world but few towns that possess such a charming

singularity, and Venice is probably the only town offering a similar

attraction, although it differs in many respects. Hence, Amsterdam’s

surname of _The Venice of the North_ is easily accounted for, and appears

already in the writings of Guicciardini, the sixteenth-century historian.

It is the water that lends to the town its peculiar charm, and while some

canals had to be filled in to create carriage accommodation in the old

parts, most were preserved, and though in their water other house-fronts

are reflected, the visitor can reconstruct, without great difficulty, a

vision of Amsterdam in Rembrandt’s days.

Let us offer some help to the visitor in his efforts to revive the old

town in his imagination. Such assistance is needed, because Amsterdam is

not a place where one would prefer to be left alone with his dreams.

Modern life overshadows the past to such an extent, that one cannot

transpose one’s self three centuries by simply eliminating the present;

there are no ruins which induce us to reconstruct, in our mind, that which

has vanished, no population which has arrested its progress at the period

of its greatest prosperity. Fortunately the _nature_ of Amsterdam’s

beauty and originality has not changed and from this fact every newcomer

may derive great help in his efforts to rebuild the scenes of bygone

times.

First of all, let the stranger take into consideration that Rembrandt took

up his abode in the town when it was rapidly growing, and when the

picturesqueness of its late-mediaeval appearance had to concede to graver

conceptions, based on the classics and the Italian renaissance. Let him

remember that the threefold girdle of wide canals lined with big houses,

which now embraces the old city, was at that time only in course of

construction, and that less stately canals preserved a more intimate

aspect. These narrower waterways in the heart of the old town, filled

with barges between quays crowded with merchandise, reveal more the city’s

growth and nature,—the stately but less lively canals of a later extension

typify better the pride and ease ensuing from the reaped harvest.

When Rembrandt came to Amsterdam about 1631 he found the town broken

through its boundaries and new quarters risen on the fields outside, which

a former generation had known only as meadows and vegetable gardens. The

artist must have noticed many changes even since he passed his years of

apprenticeship in Amsterdam in the studio of Pieter Lastman, returning

again to his native town Leyden during the intermediate seven or eight

years.

Until the period of Rembrandt’s settling in Amsterdam, this city, although

having been long the metropolis of the Northern Netherlands, had not been

very different in aspect to other important Dutch towns; its

seventeenth-century buildings belong to the same school of architecture as

those of the other cities, like Haarlem, Alkmaar, Leyden. Its immense

prosperity and development as Europe’s most important seaport since about

1600, however, originated a notable change: its aspect gradually became

more individual, until in the second part of the golden century it had

assumed the grandeur worthy of “the capital of Europe, the neighbours’

support and hope,” as our greatest poet then justly called her. Important

buildings and a very logically and royally planned extension of its canals

and streets were the causes of this alteration. We do not know of any

other big town of that period so systematically laid out, with such a

preservation of its original beauty and with such an outspoken aim to

obtain in its new thoroughfares a similar attraction to the eyes. Of all

the cities of the Netherlands none possessed the means, or were forced to

undertake such big works, as Amsterdam. Consequently the best Dutch

architects of that time erected their finest and most important edifices

in Amsterdam, and very often exclusively built there; and this accounts

for her assuming that individual aspect of stateliness.

Rembrandt got acquainted in Amsterdam with two distinct architectural

periods: 1st, the one just closed on his arrival, dominated by the eminent

architect and sculptor Hendrick de Keyser (father of the celebrated

portrait-painter Thomas de Keyser); 2d, the following period, influenced

by Jacob van Campen. The first period enriched Amsterdam with a great

number of buildings, generally in red brick with decorations in clear

sandstone, of a varied and often baroque appearance; their style, although

based on early sixteenth-century Italian renaissance, may be called a

typical Dutch one, strongly personified as it was, towards the end of the

sixteenth century, by Netherlandish architects, like Cornells Floris and

Vredeman de Vries.—In the second period, when the classical style after

Palladio became generally accepted, the variety of aspect and the baroque

details had to yield to monumentality and severity.

[Plate 2. The Old Town Hall in Amsterdam.]

Plate 2. The Old Town Hall in Amsterdam. After an engraving by Cl. Jz.

Visscher.

The spirit of the town’s aspirations is best reflected in her town-hall,

which marks the culminating point of her evolution (about 1650). That

imposing square building, still in existence in Amsterdam’s centre, called

the Dam, must be familiar to all who have visited the town, and the

interested art-lover may have noted that this building, grand and

magnificent as it is, has no typical Dutch character such as marks

Amsterdam’s earlier buildings. He will have remarked a strong tendency to

the classic style of Italy, and the rich marble sculptures inside must

have appeared to him as belonging to another school than the contemporary

Dutch pictures, which he admired in Amsterdam’s Rÿksmuseum. In this

circumstance we may find the clue to the disharmony which existed between

Rembrandt and his surroundings in his later years. His art and the spirit

of his contemporaries were going athwart with different aims. When the

artist settled down in Amsterdam, at the age of twenty-five, circumstances

were still favourable to a good mutual understanding: the ambitious and

pulsating spirit of the growing commercial city must have felt akin to the

boisterous aspirations of the young, gifted artist. His great material

success during the first years furnishes a proof of this supposition.

Then more and more came the alienation, and it is most instructive to

compare the different results at which the artist and the intelligent

population arrived: the artist, guided by the strength of his immense

personality and talent, remained himself, but his fellow-citizens

gradually changed their taste and predilections in matters of art and

intellect, uncertain as they were of themselves in these matters. Being

more gifted as traders than as artists, they showed that short-sightedness

and narrowmindedness in judging their contemporary artists, which so often

repeats itself in history (even in our time!). They were unable to

understand the strength and value of the country’s native art, and turned

to foreign taste, even to foreign workmanship, as in the case of the

commission to Quellinus, the Flemish sculptor, to execute the sculptures

in the town-hall, thus emphasizing their preference for the school of

Rubens and Van Dyck above the one of Hals and Rembrandt. This tendency

occasioned a preference for foreign theories and forms, and so we see

between 1648 and 1660 a town-hall built, ten times bigger than the former

one and costing, according to our money, about twenty million guilders,

resulting in a work of art, imposing but not essentially Dutch (plates

_2_, _3_, _4_).

[Plate 3. The Ruins of the Old Town Hall in Amsterdam, after the Fire in

1652.]

Plate 3. The Ruins of the Old Town Hall in Amsterdam, after the Fire in

1652. After the drawing by Rembrandt, formerly in the Heseltine

Collection, now in the Rembrandt House in Amsterdam.

[Plate 4. The New Town-Hall in Amsterdam, about 1660.]

Plate 4. The New Town-Hall in Amsterdam, about 1660. The square building

on the right is the public Weighing-House, where Rembrandt sketched the

ruins of the old town-hall (see preceding illustration). After an etching

by J. van der Ulft, 1656.

[Plate 5. The Bridge Called “Grimnessesluis” in Amsterdam.]

Plate 5. The Bridge Called “Grimnessesluis” in Amsterdam. After the

drawing by Rembrandt in the Louvre, Paris. Reproduced, by permission,

from a copyright photograph by Messrs. Braun and Co., Dornach.

What we know of Rembrandt in connection with Amsterdam’s town-hall

supports the above theory: he seems to have liked the old building, a

Late-Gothic structure, as he sketched it twice, once after its fire in

1652. On the other hand, when in 1662 he executes a large decoration for

the new town-hall, his work does not agree with the taste of his

contemporaries and is returned to him (_The Plot of Claudius Civilis_, now

much cut down, in the Museum at Stockholm). Considering Rembrandt’s style

of expressing himself in his work, we find many instances to convince us

of his preference for the architectural forms of an earlier period and of

his lack of sympathy for those which were introduced during the later part

of his life. Is it to be wondered at that he, the warm-feeling artist,

offspring of a school which affected richness and baroque, was no friend

of a new tendency, the stateliness and broadness of which were bound to

degenerate into coldness and stiffness? Looking through his drawings and

etchings (his pictures leave us no town-views taken from nature), we

occasionally meet views of town-gates, old houses alone or crowded

together, mills, all obviously sketched on account of a charm akin to

Rembrandt’s nature but foreign to the greatest part of the lay population

of Amsterdam. Some illustrations will show the master’s preferences: a

view on a little old bridge between compact houses, a spot called

_Grimnessesluis_, still forming nowadays, notwithstanding many later

alterations, one of the most typical views of old Amsterdam (_plate 5_).

We must here resist the temptation of reproducing some of Rembrandt’s

drawings of picturesque towngates (like those in the Louvre, Rÿksmuseum at

Amsterdam, the collections of M. Bonnat, the Duke of Devonshire, and

Teyler at Haarlem),(2) because these appear to have been done on an

excursion through the Netherlands, and cannot be identified with former

gates of Amsterdam; there is, however, another drawing, more closely

connected with landscape, giving a view of St. Anthony’s Gate, quite near

Rembrandt’s house, at the end of the street where he lived, taken from the

north outside the bulwark (_plate 6_). On the opposite side of the town

Rembrandt did that delightful sketch with the many mills in the foreground

(_plate 7_). In the city he again sketched a former fortification-tower,

called Montelbaenstoren (_plate 9_), showing to its right a perspective of

the harbour. We miss in this drawing the steeple, with which it had been

ornamented since 1606; the municipality had the good sense, when new

extensions were carried out in the beginning of the seventeenth century,

to preserve the old fortification-towers which became useless because of

the ramparts stretching farther, and to transform them into belfries by

giving them graceful steeples with carillons. Some of them, like the one

mentioned here, have lasted till our days; and when the stranger is kept

awake at night, in his hotel, by the gay clangor of their bells, he may

grumble at them, unused as he is to their music, but when he hears them in

daytime he should respect these three-centuries-old tones and meditate

like Rossetti, when he was impressed by Van Eyck’s and Memling’s works in

Bruges:—

The carillon, which then did strike

Mine ears, was heard of theirs alike;

It set me closer unto them.

[Plate 6. View of the Ramparts of Amsterdam, with the St. Anthony-Gate in

the Distance.]

Plate 6. View of the Ramparts of Amsterdam, with the St. Anthony-Gate in

the Distance. After the drawing by Rembrandt, formerly in the Heseltine

Collection.

[Plate 7. Mills on the West Side of Amsterdam, Looking Toward the Town]

Plate 7. Mills on the West Side of Amsterdam, Looking Toward the Town.

After the drawing by Rembrandt, formerly in the Heseltine Collection, now

in a private collection in Kopenhagen.

[Plate 8. View of the Same Side of Town as in Plate 7, but Looking

Outward. ]

Plate 8. View of the Same Side of Town as in Plate 7, but Looking Outward.

The tower on the left is the same as sketched by Rembrandt (_plate 13_).

After an etching by R. Zeeman, about 1650.

A more complete view of this site the reader will find in an etching by

Zeeman (_plate 10_), where the tower is seen with its steeple which

Rembrandt omitted because he considered the comparatively modern top in

disharmony with the older body of the tower, or rather for the simple

reason that his paper did not allow him sufficient space. Another

steepleless tower is drawn by him when he sketches the stronghold

Swyght-Utrecht with adjacent buildings (plates _12_ and _20_). Finally,

there is the drawing of the tower of the Westerkerk, the only sketch after

a more severe architecture, rather a transition from the earlier style of

De Keyser to the later one of Van Campen (_plate 13_).

[Plate 9. The Tower Called “Montelraanstoren” In Amsterdam]

Plate 9. The Tower Called “Montelraanstoren” In Amsterdam After the

drawing by Rembrandt, formerly in the Heseltine Collection, now in the

Rembrandt House, Amsterdam

[Plate 10. The Same Tower as in the Preceding Illustration, with its

Steeple and Surroundings.]

Plate 10. The Same Tower as in the Preceding Illustration, with its

Steeple and Surroundings. After an etching by R. Zeeman, about 1650.

[Plate 11. The Canal called “Singel” in Amsterdam. ]

Plate 11. The Canal called “Singel” in Amsterdam. On the left-hand side

Rembrandt’s son, Titus, lived during his short married life. In the

distance, the “Janroopoortstoren”. After an etching by R. Zeeman, about

1650.

In trying to reconstruct a picture of Amsterdam in Rembrandt’s time, we

must realise the architectural _forms_ as well as the _colours_. It is

natural that the town’s colouristic aspect should harmonize with the

colour schemes which we admire in Holland, in its landscapes, on its

rivers and seacoast, in the pictorial masterpieces of its artists and in

its interiors, which means that in the city also we are fascinated by the

richness of tints, always subdued and variegated by a certain haziness.

It is a richness of a very subtle nature: no opposition of strong tints,

but an endless, mostly light-scaled variety of transitions, now and then

relieved by a more powerful note like the red of a roof or the paint of a

boat; these higher notes are generally of a freshness as if they had been

washed by a recent rain. Against a sky, of which the blue or the clouds

bear a bloom of a silvery hue, the houses show the tone of their bricks

going from red-brown to a pale purple in so many deviations that the

uniform indication of red would be unjust. The trembling of the lights

and shades of water all through the town and the green of so many trees

planted along the quays, were of course two conditions which strongly

helped in producing a particular colouristic charm and which meant an

advantage over so many foreign towns. Both these elements were and are

still not to be found to such an extent in any other city, Venice

naturally excepted on account of her waterways. Concentrating our

attention rather on colour than shape, we might retain for one moment the

comparison with Venice, as it may help us to understand still better the

value of what we were just admiring in Amsterdam. By reason of their

situation, their prosperity, their universality, their natural educational

advantages, both towns were, so to say, bound to produce a great school of

painters, and we need not here allude to the glory with which both towns

covered themselves on this field in the eyes of the art world. Stress

should, however, be laid here on the fact that the two towns in question

brought forth the two greatest schools of colourists, a fact which shows

how in these centres circumstances favour the development of colouristic

talents. Mindful of the fact that the great painters are our teachers in

the appreciation of nature’s beauties and charms, we should, for our own

instruction, contrast the two schools and try to discern the difference in

their common merits. We shall then notice that “richness in colour” does

not mean the same in both cities. As opposed to the abundance of glowing

colours on the exuberant Venetian palette, we should place the subtile

gradations, the well-balanced and restrained splendour and the endless

variations of the seemingly restricted colour scale of the Dutch artist.

We shall so learn to love both better than we did before and, needless to

say, our eyes will then be more open to the value of Amsterdam’s scenery

which so often inspired or stimulated the painters.

[Plate 12. The Tower called “Swyght-Utrecht”, and the “Doelen” in

Amsterdam]

Plate 12. The Tower called “Swyght-Utrecht”, and the “Doelen” in Amsterdam

(see _plate 20_). After the drawing by Rembrandt in the collection of Dr.

C. Hofsteded de Groot, The Hague.

After this little excursion let us reconsider the town’s appearance. In

doing so, we must remember that it was already highly flourishing when

Rembrandt settled within its ramparts; consequently it is clear that by

far the greater part of the living houses belonged to the more picturesque

preceding period. The houses generally had three or four stories, and

their fronts were without exception crowned by pointed gables, most of

them stepped. In the older quarters, where the houses were more crowded

together, they very often had more stories and were strangely tall, but

everywhere that irregular saw-like profile, formed by the steep-pitched

gable-tops, appeared silhouetted against the sky (horizontal roof-lines,

more in accordance with the new style of Van Campen, were slowly

introduced but remained scarce). All these house-fronts were, as we said

before, gay in colour and enlivened by sandstone ornaments, windows with

their small glistening panes set in lead, brightly painted shutters, here

and there woodwork decorating the house-fronts, and as a rule an

artistically carved stone-panel with figures and inscription or date

lending a separate character to each house. The house in which Rembrandt

passed most of the years and in which he knew fortune and fame as well as

sorrow and reverse, offers a good type of the then prevailing domestic

architecture (_plate 16_). The house still exists and has become, since

its restoration, a few years ago, a place of pilgrimage for art-loving

tourists. We must, however, here call attention to a fact which is

generally unknown to the public, namely, that, though restored, the house

does not appear as it probably looked when Rembrandt lived in it. This

does not so much apply to the interior, because everybody will understand

the impossibility of reconstructing the artist’s direct surroundings, for

lack of the furniture and works of art with which Rembrandt had crowded

it. More noteworthy is the fact that the facade has quite a different

character. The outer appearance of a house should as much as possible

give a true illustration of the time at which it was built, especially as

this one had retained its original form, apparently, when its greatest

occupant inhabited it. In its restored condition it still preserves

important additions which date from a later period. The two sketches on

_plate 16_ show us how the original picturesque stepped gable was changed

into a cornice with a tympanon, giving a different appearance to the

house. Any eye familiar with Dutch architecture will detect in the front,

in its present state, a difference in period between its lower and upper

part. The latter is about fifty years later, and the whole shows a

mixture of the two styles which we have described: the earlier, varied

style of a De Keyser and the later, more classical style of Van Campen’s

school (his pupil Vingboons?). Probability, based on maps and documents

like Rembrandt’s inventory of 1656, and a recently discovered account

regarding alterations done by the subsequent owners, and, moreover, the

convincing difference in style, lead us to the conviction that the

alteration in the front dates very shortly after Rembrandt’s departure

from the house, i.e. about 1660, when it was divided into two narrower

residences. The house-front, as it looks now, was probably familiar to

Rembrandt in the last ten years of his life, even though we take into

consideration his probable disinclination to look again and again at the

place, where he had passed twenty years of his life, and where misfortune

had cruelly put an end to better days; it is, however, an open question

whether such a consideration offers sufficient ground for a restoration of

the kind recently carried out. Nevertheless we have to be thankful to the

trustees that the house was saved, because it is Rembrandt’s most intimate

memorial, aside from his own work, left to posterity.

[Plate 13. The Tower Called “Westertoren” In Amsterdam.]

Plate 13. The Tower Called “Westertoren” In Amsterdam. After the drawing

by Rembrandt, in the Fodor Museum, Amsterdam

[Plate 14. The Canal called “Prinsengracht” in Amsterdam. ]

Plate 14. The Canal called “Prinsengracht” in Amsterdam. The tower seen on

the left is the same as seen in the preceding illustration. After an

etching by R. Zeeman, about 1650.

[Plate 15. The St. Anthony-Market in Amsterdam, with the Old Gate

Transformed into a Weighing-House. ]

Plate 15. The St. Anthony-Market in Amsterdam, with the Old Gate

Transformed into a Weighing-House. After an etching by R. Zeeman, about

1650.

[Plate 16. Rembrandt’s House In The “St. Anthonie-breestraat” In Amsterdam

]

Plate 16. Rembrandt’s House In The “St. Anthonie-breestraat” In Amsterdam

On the left: As it must have looked when Rembrandt occupied it. On the

right: Present state.

This house welcomed Rembrandt in 1639, when he acquired it for 13,000

florins (a good price in those days, showing that it was a desirable

residence) and saw itself adorned with a unique collection of works of art

which its owner, passionate collector that he was, did not cease to

enlarge. That same house saw its illustrious occupant become more and

more retiring, misunderstood by the majority of the public and finally

struck by reverses, till a total bankruptcy necessitated the sale of the

house in 1658. It has often been thought, that his undying mania for

collecting was the principal cause of his misfortune, but a document,

recently discovered, shows that Rembrandt was, like so many of his

fellow-citizens, the victim of the economic reverses caused by the first

Anglo-Dutch war. In 1653 nearly the whole trade was at a standstill, 1500

houses (others speak of double the number) stood empty, and on the 27th of

June even the magistrate decided to leave off one of the two principal

stories from its new magnificent town-hall, then in course of

construction, a resolution which fortunately was revoked two years later.

As a matter of fact trade weakened heavily until 1660, suffering reverses,

not only from England’s attitude, but also from France’s and Sweden’s

fiendish acts. Although the town energetically opposed its enemies, often

against the will of the Netherlands’ States, it could not at once redress

its internal depression, and we should not wonder at seeing the artist

Rembrandt among the victims. He avows in the document that he lost

considerably in trade, especially in maritime ventures. It seems that the

trading hobby, innate in most Dutchmen at that time, was also strong in

him; in an act of 1634 we see him already designated as “merchant” and not

as artist!

The house seems rather to have gone up in value, for it realised in these

bad times nearly as much as Rembrandt had originally paid for it. This is

not to be wondered at, as it stood in a very profitable quarter. The

street followed the course of a dike, called the St. Anthoniesdÿk, from

which it derived its name; this dike was then and had always been an

important way of access to Amsterdam, as it was the only direct route to

Diemen, Weesp, and Muiden. In the beginning of the seventeenth century it

was inhabited by many aristocratic families, with whom gradually

intermingled Portuguese Jewish refugees, as this was a new quarter where

they could more easily find living accommodation. As time went on, Jewish

occupants began to dominate, and towards the close of the century the

street was for that reason rebaptised from St. Anthoniebreestraat into

Joden (= Jews’) breestraat. We find this change illustrated in the fact

that, when Rembrandt bought this house, one of his neighbours was a Jew,

called Salvador Rodrigue, the other a Christian fellow-painter Nicolaes

Eliasz, but when he left the house, Eliasz had died in 1654 and been

succeeded by Daniel Pinto, again a noted Jewish name. These Portuguese

Jewish families were a great advantage to the town and should in no way be

placed on a par with the poor Jews, mostly of German and Polish descent,

now occupying this quarter. The Portuguese Jews were highly cultured,

well-to-do, orderly, and clean people; one of their most brilliant minds

was Menasseh-ben-Israel, Rabbi at the Synagogue situated on a canal just

behind Rembrandt’s house, a great linguist, the first Hebraic printer in

the Netherlands, the teacher of the celebrated philosopher Spinoza, a

sympathetic and admirable figure, whom we see until the close of his life

in friendly relations with Rembrandt.

[Plate 17. The Bridge and Sluice called “St. Anthonie-sluis” in

Amsterdam, seen from the North. ]

Plate 17. The Bridge and Sluice called “St. Anthonie-sluis” in Amsterdam,

seen from the North. Rembrandt’s home (_plate 16_) stood in the immediate

vicinity of this spot. After the drawing by A. Waterloo, in the Fodor

Museum, Amsterdam.

If from this centre we look a little further around, we find in the same

quarter other sites memorable in the artist’s life: first of all in the

same street, also near the bridge where Rembrandt’s own house stood, we

recognise the house of Mr. Hendrick Uylenburgh, a noted dealer in pictures

and works of art and a publisher, with whom Rembrandt stood in close

relation while yet residing in Leyden. This relationship was further

strengthened when the artist, coming for good to Amsterdam, resided with

Uylenburgh and remained in his house for some years, during which time he

had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of Uylenburgh’s charming

cousin Saskia, Rembrandt’s future wife. He married her in 1634, remaining

at Uylenburgh’s house until 1635. During these years Rembrandt seems to

have kept a large studio, especially for his pupils, in a warehouse on the

Bloemgracht, a quarter where we shall find him again much later. Passing

along the same street, towards the centre of the town, we pass on the

right, opposite the Zuiderkerk, the house where Lastman lived when he

instructed the young Rembrandt, and at the end of the street we notice a

heavy Late-Gothic building, the St. Anthonieswaag, formerly one of the

gates, when the town was less extensive, but now changed into a Public

Weighing House. Rembrandt’s contemporary, the etcher Zeeman, has left us

a charming little print of this edifice, reproduced on _plate 15_. The

reason it should now interest us is because on its first floor it lodged

the Surgeons’ Guild, for which Rembrandt painted, in 1632, his celebrated

_Anatomical Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp_, now in the museum at The Hague.

The commission for this masterpiece of Rembrandt’s younger years was

perhaps, because of its dimensions, one of the reasons for his removal

from Leyden to Amsterdam, as its date corresponds with his establishment

in Amsterdam. During two centuries the picture ornamented the interior of

this building, together with another, still more wonderful, painting by

him, _The Anatomical Lesson of Dr. Deyman_, of which only a central

fragment was saved from a fire, now in the Amsterdam Ryksmuseum. Turning

our back to the big building and following the canal partly reproduced in

the foreground of Zeeman’s etching, we pass on the left the house of Mr.

Six, whom Rembrandt must have visited often, and come in a few minutes

into the Doelenstraat, at the corner of which stood a massive tower,

remainder of ancient fortifications, sketched by Rembrandt as we saw on

_plate 12_. Next to this building was the Doelen (part of its back can be

seen on the master’s above-mentioned drawing), the meeting-place of the

civic guards, now changed into a hotel of the same name, but in

Rembrandt’s day the place where the painter’s most famous picture, _The

Night Watch_, was kept, since a captain of the guards, Banning Cocq, had

the daring idea of entrusting Rembrandt with the commission to portray him

and his company. Two houses further along the street (a site now occupied

by a bank, next to Messrs. Frederik Muller & Co.) we must pay attention to

the place where Rembrandt lived in 1636. After his removal from his cousin

Uylenburgh’s house, Rembrandt himself states this address as “next to the

pensionary Boreel” in a letter to the Prince of Orange’s secretary,

Huygens, a letter now preserved in the collection of Mr. Paul Warburg in

New York. That house must have been brand new in 1636, as building on

that side of the Doelenstraat was only started in 1635 (plates _18_, _19_,

and _20_). It seems, however, not to have satisfied the painter, because

three years later, before his removal to his own house in the St.

Anthoniebreestraat, he gives his address, in another letter to Huygens, as

being on the Amstel in a house called De suikerbakkerÿ (the sugar

refinery) the exact situation of which has not yet been traced.

[Plate 18. The “doelenstraat” In Amsterdam (old situation) ]

Plate 18. The “doelenstraat” In Amsterdam (old situation) The receding

building, behind the low wall with gate, on the right, is the “Doelen” for

which Rembrandt painted “The Night Watch.” The house where the master

lived in 1636 was next to the house seen on the extreme right. The tower

seen above the roof is the one sketched by Rembrandt (_plate 12_). Compare

also _plate 20_ After the drawing by R. Vinkeles in the Archives in

Amsterdam

Returning from this Doelenstraat to Rembrandt’s restored house where we

started our little excursion, and taking a street called the Staalstraat

on our right, we should observe a building on our left called the

Staalhof, the birthplace of that other masterpiece, rivalling _The Night

Watch_ in fame, namely The Staalmeesters (The Syndics). When this great

painting was achieved in 1661, Rembrandt, forced by the sale of his house,

had already left this quarter of the town, but it is pleasing to notice

that the Staalmeesters had not forgotten the great painter, who had long

lived in their neighbourhood.

[Plate 19. The Back of the Houses in the “Doelenstraat” in Amsterdam. ]

Plate 19. The Back of the Houses in the “Doelenstraat” in Amsterdam. The

narrow house in the middle, two windows wide, is, although rebuilt, the

one where Rembrandt lived in 1636. To the left, part of Messrs. Frederk

Muller & Co.’s aution and exhibition rooms.

[Plate 20. The Tower “Swyght-Utrecht” and the Backs of the Houses of the

“Doelenstraat” in Amsterdam.]

Plate 20. The Tower “Swyght-Utrecht” and the Backs of the Houses of the

“Doelenstraat” in Amsterdam. The third house from the tower must be the

one occupied by Rembrandt in 1636. After an engraving by van Meurs of

about 1660.

[Plate 21. The Old Exchange in Amsterdam. ]

Plate 21. The Old Exchange in Amsterdam. After an engraving by Cl. Jz.

Visscher.

To complete our survey of Rembrandt’s dwellings in Amsterdam, we must

finally follow him on his retirement, when, owing to his bankruptcy, his

wonderful collection had been dispersed to the winds under the

auctioneer’s hammer, and when he had to leave his large house, the court

allowing him to take only two stoves and some partitions in the attic. We

have therefore to cross the entire town in its width and repair to its

western extension, where he lived about ten years until his death, most of

this time in the company of his son Titus, and with his second wife

Hendrickje Stoffels, until her death in 1664. On examining the map of the

town and comparing the design of the new western quarters around the

Rozengracht with the remainder of the town, we observe an incongruity in

city planning, which calls for an explanation. The oldest part in the

centre faces the harbour and logically follows upwards the course of the

Amstel River; the lay-out of the canals in that part is in accordance

therewith, because they really are the former moats surrounding the

protecting walls incorporated in the town during its various extensions

from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century. The following plan of the

three canals, Heerengracht, Keizersgracht, and Prinsengracht, the

beginning of which on the west side takes place in Rembrandt’s time,

coincides with the fan-shaped plan of the town, but the outer quarters,

including the Rozengracht, seem in disharmony. The reason must be sought

in the circumstance that the exploitation of these districts had to be

kept on an economical scale, since the three principal canals mentioned

above had been undertaken on so royal a scale. Therefore the existing

features were preserved: the many ditches, separating the meadows and

gardens formerly occupying this site, were simply widened into canals; and

the pathways, running between, were transformed into streets. The

peculiar characteristics of this part of the town, due to these conditions

of growth, made it into a typical quarter, known as the Jordaan; its

population has always been one of modest means, mixing little with the

town. So we see that it was very appropriate for the painter’s

retirement, after his social downfall in the late fifties.

[Plate 22. The Inn Called “de Keizers Kroon” In The Kalverstraat,

Amsterdam]

Plate 22. The Inn Called “de Keizers Kroon” In The Kalverstraat,

Amsterdam. Here Rembrandt’s collections were sold by auction, after his

bankruptcy, in 1657 and 1058. After an anonymous drawing in the Archives

in Amsterdam.

Not only the direction of its canals and streets remind one of the former

nature of this quarter, the places of amusement likewise are reminiscent

of the times when well-to-do citizens had their gardens and

pleasuregrounds amidst the meadows, before the city encroached upon them.

There were, for instance, two large gardens with mazes and fountains,

formerly the property of Amsterdam burghers, afterwards for many years an

attraction for the public. One of them, at the end of the Rozengracht,

was owned and managed by Lingelbach, the father of Johan the painter. An

inscription in the burial-book of the Westerkerk, saying that Rembrandt’s

corpse came on the 8th of October, 1669, “from the Rozengracht opposite

the Labyrinth,” painfully reminds us how for the last sad years of his

life the great painter had lived opposite this popular place of public

amusement.

[The House Of Mr. F. Banning Cocq ]

Plate 23. The House Of Mr. F. Banning Cocq (the Captain And Prominent

Person In Rembrandt’s “Night-watch”) In Amsterdam After an anonymous

drawing in the family archives of Jhr. D. de Graeff at The Hague

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