A Dutch Village
Villages in Holland are towns in miniature, for the simple reason that
when you have a marsh to live in you drain a part of it and build on that
part, and so build in streets, and do not form a village as in England, by
houses dotted here and there round a green or down leafy lanes. The
village green in Holland is the village street or square in front of the
church or 'Raadhuis.' Here the children play, for you cannot play in a
swamp, and that is what polder land is seven months out of the year, and
so we find that a Dutch village in most parts of the country is a town in
miniature.
[Illustration: An Overyssel Farmhouse.]
Thirty years ago the 'Raadhuis' would have been the village inn, barber's
shop, and the principal hotel all rolled into one, and the innkeeper, as a
natural consequence, the wealthiest man in the neighbourhood. The farmers
would have sat at the 'Raad,' i.e. the Village Council, with their caps
over their eyes, long Gouda pipes in their mouths, and a 'Glaasje Klare'
('Schiedam') under their chairs which they would have steadily sipped at
intervals, puffing at their pipes during the whole sitting. Their wooden
shoes ('Klompen'), scrubbed for the occasion to a brilliant white with the
help of a good layer of whitening, might have been seen in a row standing
on the door-mat, for no well-educated farmer would ever have dreamed of
entering a room with shoes on his feet, and he would have taken his
'pruim,' or quid of tobacco, which every farmer chews even when smoking,
out of his mouth and laid it on the window-sill, the usual receptacle for
such things, and there it would lie in its own little circle of brown
fluid, to be replaced either in his own or his neighbour's mouth after the
meeting was over. Nowadays a farmer goes to the 'Raad' dressed in a suit
of black clothes and with his feet encased in leather boots. He never
wears 'Klompen' save when at work in the field or on the farm. He also
talks of his 'Gemeente,' for all Holland is portioned off into
'Gemeenten,' and a village is such in as good a sense as large towns like
The Hague and Amsterdam, and better if anything, for the taxes there are
not so high. Each 'Gemeente' is separately governed by a Burgomaster and
'Leden van den Raad', which is nothing more nor less than a County
Council, presided over by a prominent man nominated by the sovereign, and
not elected by the members, of which some are called 'Wethouders,' and
are, like the other members, elected by the residents of the district.
These Wethouders, with the Burgomaster, form the 'Dagelyksch Bestuur.' All
ordinary matters concerning the 'Gemeente,' such as giving information to
the Minister of War about the men who have signed for the militia, or
about any person living in their 'Gemeenten,' are regulated by the
'Dagelyksch Bestuur,' though matters of import are brought before the
'Raad.' Next in importance to the Burgomaster come the 'Gemeenteontvanger,'
who receives all the taxes, and the 'Notary, who is the busiest man in the
village, although the doctor and clergyman or priest have a large share in
the work of contributing to the welfare of the villagers.
[Illustration: An Overyssel Farmhouse.]
A village clergyman is an important person, for he is held in high honour
by his parishioners, and his larder is always well stocked free of cost.
His income also is relatively larger than that of a town pastor, for
besides his fixed salary he reaps a nice little revenue from the pastures
belonging to the 'Pastorie,' which he lets out to farmers. The
schoolmaster, on the contrary, is treated with but little consideration,
and he often feels decidedly like a fish out of water, for though
belonging by birth to the labouring class, he is too well educated to
associate with his former companions and yet not sufficiently refined to
move in the village 'society,' besides which he would not be able to
return hospitality, as his salary only amounts to from £40 to £60 a year,
and nowhere is the principle of reciprocity more observed than in Dutch
hospitality in certain classes. In very small villages many offices are
combined in one person, and so we find a prominent inhabitant blacksmith,
painter, and carpenter, while the baker's shop is a kind of universal
provider for the villagers' simple wants. The butcher is the only person
who is the man of one occupation, though he, too, goes round to the
neighbouring farms to help in the slaughtering of the cattle, and
sometimes lends a hand in the salting and storing of the meat.
The farmers live just outside the village, and only come there when they
go to the 'Raad' or on Saturday evenings when the week's work is done.
They then visit the barber before meeting at the _café_ for their weekly
game of billiards. Every resident of the village also betakes himself to
his 'club' or 'Societeit' on Saturday night, and just as the 'Mindere
man,' i.e. farmers and labourers, have their games and discuss their
farms, their cattle, and the price of hay or corn, so, too, the
'Notabelen' discuss every subject under the sun, not forgetting their dear
neighbours.
On Sunday mornings the whole 'Gemeente' goes to church, from the
Burgomaster to the poorest farm-labourer, and all are dressed in their
best. The men of the village have put aside their working-clothes, and
are attired in blue or black cloth suits with white shirt fronts and
coloured ties. The women have donned black dresses, caps and shawls, and
carry their scent-bottles, peppermints, and 'Gezangboek' (hymn-book) with
large golden clasps. The 'Stovenzetster,' a woman who acts as verger,
shows the good people to their seats and provides the women, if the
weather is cold, with 'warme stoven' (hot stoves), to keep their feet
comfortable. These little 'stoves' contain little three-cornered green or
brown pots ('testen'), in which pieces of glowing peat are put, and
sometimes when the peat is not quite red-hot it smokes terribly, and
gives a most unpleasant odour to the building. The women survive it,
however, by resorting to their _eau de Cologne,_ which they sprinkle upon
their handkerchiefs, and keep passing to their neighbours during the
whole service.
The village schoolmaster has a special office to perform in the Sunday
service. It is he who reads a 'chapter' to them before the entrance of the
clergyman, who only comes when service has begun. Then the sermon, which
is the chief part of the service in Dutch churches, begins. This sermon is
very long, and the congregation sleep through the first part very
peacefully, but the rest is not for long, for when the domine has spoken
for about three-quarters of an hour he calls upon his congregation to sing
a verse of some particular psalm. The schoolmaster starts the singing,
which goes very slowly, each note lasting at least four beats, so that the
tune is completely lost. However, as a rule, every one sings a different
tune, and nobody knows which is the right one. Two collections are taken
during the service, one for the poor and one for the church, the
schoolmaster and the elders ('Ouderlingen') of the church going round with
little bags tied to very long sticks, which they pass ail along a row in
which to receive the 'gifts.' Generally one cent is given by each of the
congregation.
[Illustration: Approach to an Overyssel Farm.]
After church is over the Sunday lunch takes the next place in the day's
routine. The table is always more carefully set out on Sundays than on
other days, and to the usual fare of bread, butter, and cheese are added
smoked beef and cake, while the coffee-pot stands on the 'Komfoortje' (a
square porcelain stand with a little light inside to keep the pot hot),
and the sugar-pot contains white sugar as a Sunday treat, for sugar is
very dear in Holland, and cannot form an article of daily consumption.
Servants always make an agreement about sugar; hence on week-days a supply
of 'brokken' (sweets something like toffee, and costing about a penny for
three English ounces) is kept in the sugar-pot, and when the people drink
coffee they put a 'brok' in their mouths and suck it. Should their cup be
emptied before the 'brok' is finished, they replace it on their saucers
till a second cup is poured out for them, and if they do not take a second
cup, then their 'brok' is put back into the sugar-pot again.
After lunch the men now find their way to the 'Societeit,' or in summer to
the village street, where they walk about in their shirt-sleeves and
smoke. The children go to their Sunday schools, or, if they are Roman
Catholics, to their 'Leering,' which is a Bible-class held for them in
church, and in villages where there is no Sunday school they, too,
leisurely perambulate the village dressed in their best clothes, even if
it is a wet day. The women first clear away the lunch utensils, and then
have a little undisturbed chat with their neighbours on the doorstep, or
go to see their friends in town. At four o'clock the whole family
assembles again in the parlour for their 'Borreltje,' either consisting of
'Boerenjongens' (brandied raisins) or 'Brandewyn met suiker' (brandy with
sugar), which they drink out of their best glasses. There is no church in
the evening, so the villagers retire early to bed, so as to be in good
trim for the week's hard work again.
From this sketch it will be judged that life in a village is very dull.
There is nothing to break the monotony of the days, and one season passes
by in precisely the same way as another. Days and seasons, in fact, make
no difference whatever in the villager's existence. There is no pack of
hounds to fire the sporting instinct; no excitement of elections; no
distraction of any kind. All is quiet, regular, and uneventful, and when
their days are over they sleep with their fathers naturally enough, for
only too often have they been half asleep all their lives.