The Prince of Orange’s cabinet of paintings.--Temptation of St.
Anthony, by Breughel.--Exquisite pictures by Berghem and
Wouvermans.--Mean garrets stored with inestimable productions of
the Indies.--Enamelled flasks of oriental essences.--Vision of the
wardrobe of Hecuba.--Disenchantment.--Cabinet of natural
history.--A day dream.--A delicious morsel.--Dinner at Sir Joseph
Yorke’s.--Two honourable boobies.--The Great Wood.--Parterres of
the Greffier Fagel.--Air poisoned by the sluggish canals.--Fishy
locality of Dutch banquetting rooms.--Derivation of the inhabitants
of Holland.--Origin and use of enormous galligaskins.--Escape from
damp alleys and lazy waters.
30th June, 1780.
I dedicated the morning to the Prince of Orange’s cabinet of paintings
and curiosities both natural and artificial. Amongst the pictures which
amused me the most is a temptation of the holy hermit St. Anthony, by
Hell-fire Breughel, who has shown himself right worthy of the title; for
a more diabolical variety of imps never entered the human imagination.
Breughel has made his saint take refuge in a ditch filled with harpies
and creeping things innumerable, whose malice, one should think, would
have lost Job himself the reputation of patience. Castles of steel and
fiery turrets glare on every side, whence issue a band of junior devils.
These seem highly entertained with pinking poor Anthony, and whispering,
I warrant ye, filthy tales in his ear. Nothing can be more rueful than
the patient’s countenance; more forlorn than his beard; more piteous
than his eye, forming a strong contrast to the pert winks and insidious
glances of his persecutors; some of whom, I need not mention, are
evidently of the female kind.
But really I am quite ashamed of having detained you in such bad company
so long; and had I a moment to spare, you should be introduced to a
better set in this gallery, where some of the most exquisite Berghems
and Wouvermans I ever beheld would delight you for hours. I do not think
you would look much at the Polembergs; there are but two, and one of
them is very far from capital; in short, I am in a great hurry; so
pardon me, Carlo Cignani! if I do not do justice to your merit; and
forgive me, Potter! if I pass by your herds without leaving a tribute of
admiration.
Mynheer Van Something was as eager to precipitate my step as I was to
get out of the damps and perplexities of Sorgvliet yesterday evening;
so, mounting a creaking staircase, he led me to a suite of garretlike
apartments; which, considering the meanness of their exterior, I was
rather surprised to find stored with some of the most valuable
productions of the Indies. Gold cups enriched with gems, models of
Chinese palaces in ivory, glittering armour of Hindostan, and Japan
caskets, filled every corner of this awkward treasury. The most pleasing
of all its baubles in my estimation was a large coffer of most elaborate
workmanship, containing enamelled flasks of oriental essences, enough to
perfume a zennana. If disagreeable fumes, as I mentioned before,
dissolve enchantments, such aromatic oils have doubtless the power of
raising them; for, whilst I scented their fragrancy, I could have
persuaded myself, I was in the wardrobe of Hecuba,--
“Where treasured odours breathed a costly scent.”
I saw, or seemed to see, the arched apartments, the procession of
matrons, the consecrated vestments: the very temple began to rise upon
my sight, when a sweltering Dutch porpoise approaching to make me a low
bow, his complaisance proved full as notorious as Satan’s, when,
according to Catholic legends, he took leave of Luther, that
disputatious heresiarch. No spell can resist a fumigation of this
nature; away fled palace, Hecuba, matrons, temple, &c. I looked up, and
lo! I was in a garret. As poetry is but too often connected with this
lofty situation, you will not wonder much at my flight. Being a little
recovered from it, I tottered down the staircase, entered the cabinets
of natural history, and was soon restored to my sober senses. A grave
hippopotamus contributed a good deal to their re-establishment.
The butterflies, I must needs confess, were very near leading me another
dance: I thought of their native hills and beloved flowers, on the
summits of Haynang and Nan-Hoa;[3] but the jargon which was gabbling all
around me prevented the excursion, and I summoned a decent share of
attention for that ample chamber which has been appropriated to bottled
snakes and pickled fœtuses.
After having enjoyed the same spectacle in the British Museum, no very
new or singular objects can be selected in this. One of the rarest
articles it contains is the representation in wax of a human head, most
dexterously flayed indeed! Rapturous encomiums have been bestowed by
amateurs on this performance. A German professor could hardly believe it
artificial; and, prompted by the love of truth, set his teeth in this
delicious morsel to be convinced of its reality. My faith was less
hazardously established; and I moved off, under the conviction that art
had never produced anything more horridly natural.
It was one o’clock before I got through the mineral kingdom; and another
hour passed before I could quit with decorum the regions of stuffed
birds and marine productions. At length my departure was allowable; and
I went to dine at Sir Joseph Yorke’s, with all nations and languages.
Amongst the company were two honourable boobies and their governor, all
from Ireland. The youngest, after plying me with a succession of
innocent questions, wished to be informed where I proposed spending the
carnival. “At Tunis,” was my answer. The questioner, not in the least
surprised, then asked who was to sing there? To which I replied,
“Farinelli.”
This settled the business to our mutual satisfaction; so after coffee I
strayed to the Great Wood, which, considering that it almost touches the
town with its boughs, is wonderfully forest-like. Not a branch being
ever permitted to be lopped, the oaks and beeches retain their natural
luxuriance. In some places their straight boles rise sixty feet without
a bough; in others, they are bent fantastically over the alleys, which
turn and wind about just as a painter would desire. I followed them with
eagerness and curiosity; sometimes deviating from my path amongst tufts
of fern and herbage.
In these cool retreats I could not believe myself near canals and
windmills; the Dutch formalities were all forgotten whilst contemplating
the broad masses of foliage above, and the wild flowers and grasses
below. Hares and rabbits scudded by me while I sat; and the birds were
chirping their evening song. Their preservation does credit to the
police of the country, which is so exact and well regulated as to suffer
no outrage within the precincts of this extensive wood, the depth and
thickness of which might otherwise seem calculated to favour half the
sins of a capital.
Relying upon this comfortable security, I lingered unmolested amongst
the beeches till late in the evening; then taking the nearest path, I
suffered myself, though not without regret, to be conducted out of this
fresh sylvan scene to the dusty, pompous parterres of the Greffier
Fagel. Every flower that wealth can purchase diffuses its perfume on one
side; whilst every stench a canal can exhale poisons the air on the
other. These sluggish puddles defy all the power of the United
Provinces, and retain the freedom of stinking in spite of any endeavour
to conquer their filthiness.
But perhaps I am too bold in my assertion; for I have no authority to
mention any attempts to purify these noxious pools. Who knows but their
odour is congenial to a Dutch constitution? One should be inclined to
this supposition by the numerous banquetting-rooms and pleasure-houses
which hang directly above their surface, and seem calculated on purpose
to enjoy them. If frogs were not excluded from the magistrature of their
country (and I cannot but think it a little hard that they are), one
should not wonder at this choice. Such burgomasters might erect their
pavilions in such situations; but, after all, I am not greatly
surprised at the fishiness of their site, since very slight authority
would persuade me there was a period when Holland was all water, and the
ancestors of the present inhabitants fish. A certain oysterishness of
eye and flabbiness of complexion, are almost proofs sufficient of this
aquatic descent: and pray tell me for what purpose are such galligaskins
as the Dutch burthen themselves with contrived, but to tuck up a
flouncing tail, and thus cloak the deformity of a dolphinlike
termination?
Having done penance for some time in the damp alleys which line the
borders of these lazy waters, I was led through corkscrew sand-walks to
a vast flat, sparingly scattered over with vegetation. There was no
temptation to puzzle myself in such a labyrinth; so taking advantage of
the lateness of the hour, and muttering a few complimentary promises of
returning at the first opportunity, I escaped the ennui of this endless
scrubbery, and got home, with the determination of being wiser and less
curious if ever my stars should bring me again to the Hague.