At Utrecht, our first Holland city, at the station, we had our first
glimpse of a Holland lady in her national costume. She stepped from her
carriage and stood near us for several moments, and in that time, I
fear, we proved to be as good ‘starers’ as the French are. I wish I
could make you see her just as I did. She was a large-framed,
good-looking woman. Her dress skirt was of stiff black satin, in length
considerably above her ankles. She wore a full white waist, over which
she had a jacket, cut the shape of a zouave garment, of black cloth,
upon the front of which seemed to be gilt or gold ornaments, that looked
like military decorations; but her head rigging was the oddest of all.
First she had on a cap-like covering, that looked as if made of white
tarleton, with a full front, into which were stuck numerous gold pins,
from the heads of several of which diamonds flashed; a broad gold band
ran from side to side across her forehead, and from each end hung a gold
ornament; over this she wore a flaring straw bonnet. She had on white
kid gloves, and looked and moved every inch a lady.
We were a good while delayed before being able to get a two-seated
carriage, for everybody in the sleepy old town moved slowly, but after a
while we were furnished with an open barouche and a handsome pair of
slow-moving black horses, and were driven about the city. Utrecht means
‘Old Ford,’ and the place looks quiet and dull, although it has a
beautiful park and many fine, large residences, but they all seemed shut
up; and we came to the conclusion, after a disgusting incident a little
later, of which I will tell you, that the older people were off
travelling.
On one of the best streets of Utrecht stood a group of well-dressed
children, intelligent and attractive looking. Just as I had finished a
remark complimentary to them, we were covered, deluged, blinded with mud
and manure thrown at us by these remarkably innocent looking children,
who had grouped there for this very purpose with the dirt in their
hands, coolly awaiting and watching our approach. A second time, in
another part of the city, we were attacked in the same manner by
children, and this time E. rushed from the carriage, so indignant was he
at the coarse outrage; and although both times the children took fast to
their heels, they would have been severely and justly punished if I had
not begged our defender to let them go, and not take up the little time
we had in having them overtaken. Our driver said it was a very common
occurrence for the youth of the town to thus attack strangers. I just
longed to give them a good Yankee chastisement. We visited the
cathedral, and my companions went up into the tower, from which they had
a good view, but I had seen all of Utrecht that I desired, but was
destined to see one more disturbing scene.
A canal runs through the town, and the boats are mostly managed and
towed along by women,--old white-haired women lifting and tugging away
at bags and barrels, pulling at the ropes of the boats; and at the rope
of one huge canal boat a _woman_ and a _cow_ were pulling together. The
water in the canal was low and the mosquitoes were high, for they also
attacked us in our carriage, the very first ones we have met with on the
continent. So, after a really good dinner--the only acceptable attention
received by us in Utrecht,--we were glad to push on to Amsterdam.
Holland is largely a grazing country, very level, with vast pastures
filled with cattle, horses, and sheep, all fine-looking specimens of
their race. At one little station where we waited I stepped close to a
dike, on the other side of which were hundreds of sheep; as if by one
consent they all raised their heads and looked at me in such a human way
that I felt like an intruder, bowed respectfully to them, and retreated.
The Holstein cattle are noble-looking creatures, and the horses of
Holland handsome animals,--dignified steppers, but heavy and slow.
Cattle and horses are all black, or black and white, and all the cats I
have yet seen here are black. I saw four big black tabbies at Utrecht.
We pass through several little Dutch villages, see farmhouses in the
distance, glints of blue water far away, dikes all about us, and, as we
near Amsterdam, big windmills without number. And here we are!
_Amsterdam, August 4th, 1888._--Do you remember our old Dutch nurse, who
used to tell me stories, in Pittsburg, Penn., of her home in Amsterdam?
And now here I am to tell you a little about the same place as I see it.
Our first stroll revealed to us one of the queerest, quaintest cities we
had anywhere visited. Directly after breakfast we went to the markets,
where the peasantry were selling fruit, vegetables, fowl, crocheted
articles, plants and flowers, cheese, butter, and much else; the venders
themselves, in their queer dress, being the most attractive of all to
us. The women nearly all wore the queer-looking head-dresses of their
country, although not made up as richly as the one we saw at Utrecht,
and all had on heavy, woollen stockings and wooden shoes, and when not
busy otherwise were vigorously knitting.
From the market we went to the quarters of the poorer class of Jews,
where the streets were narrow, the homes squalid, and the little rooms
fairly crowded with human beings, packed closer than were ever sardines.
In one small, dirty front entry we counted sixteen children. Our
carriage was surrounded, every time we stopped, by crowds of lookers-on,
young and old, tattered and torn, but all behaved well. ‘How true it is
that one half of the world knows not how the other half lives’, There
are about thirty thousand Jews in this city,--many richer than kings,
and many who know not ‘where to lay their heads.’
Acquaintances who have visited this city have given me different ideas
of it, more disparaging it than praising, but I find it delightful, and
filled with interest.
Amsterdam, now the capital of Holland, you know, and by far its richest
city, was in the twelfth century only a small village. When the
Spaniards persecuted the so-called Reformers of other Dutch and Flemish
towns, they fled to Amsterdam, taking with them their riches and their
industries, and to them the place owes the beginning of prosperity. The
River Amstel divides the place, the one side being called the Oude Zijde
(old side), and the other Nieuwe Zijde (new side). It is said that
ninety canals intersect the city, and I know there is one in about every
street, and drawbridges are built over them. In the prettier parts of
the city these canals have avenues of handsome residences, and lines of
shade trees on one or both sides. On these houses, nailed close to the
side of the upper windows, we observed the so-called ‘Spiegless’
mirrors--on hinges, which could be turned so as to allow a person
sitting within to see all that was going on in the street below, up or
down. They answer the purposes of our bay-windows. In some of the older
parts of the city the queer Dutch houses are painted black, with white
trimmings, and were apparently ‘dropped down’ together, and remain
wherever they happened to light, Marblehead-like; and in many of them
the upper story pitches forward, as if to greet the opposite roof, in a
most neighborly and social manner, and altogether they are exceedingly
picturesque.
We visited one of the large diamond factories, and saw every process
used on the stone in its rough condition, to cause it to become the
glittering, costly gem, ready for the adornment of ‘my lady.’ The
different work upon the stones was to me intensely interesting. We saw
little mounds of diamonds, cut and polished, ready for the diamond
market, that were radiantly brilliant. The gentleman who escorted us
through the building was very polite, and exerted himself to give us
clear explanations of everything we wished to understand. Two officials
kept pretty close to us, however; they may have thought that ‘piles’ of
diamonds might prove too seductive for even American honesty. These
mills give employment to about ten thousand workmen, mostly Jews, and
many of the establishments are owned by wealthy Jews. Most of the best
cut stones of the present age have been cut here. Well, we cannot always
live amongst diamonds, so out into the air we go, for if but one can be
ours, the latter is better,--oxygen rather than carbon.
The commerce of the place is extensive, as a visit to the docks proved.
Ships from nearly every part of the world bring merchandise here, and
take back the products of Holland. Amsterdam cheese, gin, and chocolate
we well know, but we did not suppose so many other valuable articles
were manufactured here. We see not merely one woman at work here on the
boats, but hundreds of women. Many of them know no other home; whole
families live on boats, children are born on them, and on them many
human beings close their eyes on this life. Everything about these boats
is scrupulously clean; pretty Dutch girls, with their short dresses and
wooden shoes, peep from behind the fresh, white muslin curtains to look
at us; and women who are not doing harder work sit around with the
inevitable queer head-dress on, and the blue kerchiefs pinned across
their breasts, knitting away as if lives depended upon stockings being
finished. These Amsterdam canal boats have sails, and look very odd to
us.
We took a three-mile sail for a rest, then landed, and lunched in a
rose-embowered arbor in a pretty garden. Refreshed, we took a barge
back, thus getting good views of the river banks; and next went to the
Zoological Gardens, the best we have seen anywhere. How the beautiful,
bright-plumaged birds, walking and flying in the open air, seemingly
free from the almost invisible chains that held them, welcomed us in
their gorgeous costumes; how the tall flamingo showed us his best ballet
steps,--I have not time to give you details. The extensive aquarium
connected with the gardens contained a wealth of wonders. Why do we not
have places of such interest in Boston? As we stepped out of the garden
we observed, on a neat-looking house, a singular sign, ‘Hot Popjies.’
With our usual curiosity we entered, and found that ‘popjies’ were
nothing more or less than genuine Yankee griddle cakes, and very good
ones too, served with butter and sugar.
The best picture gallery in Amsterdam, the Rijks Museum, is the best in
Holland. Here we saw Rembrandt’s ‘Night Watch,’ of which we have often
seen engravings, but were not prepared for such beautiful effects of
colors as we found in the original. Near this painting is a still
larger one, representing a celebrated banquet of the City Guard of
Amsterdam, in 1684, by Vander Heist, and here too is Jan Steen’s ‘Lady
and the Parrot,’ and other beautiful paintings by this pleasing artist.
One picture here, by Gerard Duow, called the ‘Evening School,’ cost
forty thousand dollars, although not over a half-yard long, and not
measuring as much across. This painting has five or six different
effects of light produced on it from the burning candles represented. A
girl is pointing to her lesson with her finger, and a boy is writing on
a slate; a candle, held by another girl standing back of them, throws a
light on their backs, and another candle, lighted, which is on a table,
throws light upon their faces, but it would be impossible for you to
imagine the peculiar glow and loveliness of it all. All of the works
from this man’s easel are charming. There are here several of Paul
Potter’s paintings, wonderful in execution, and particularly to be
considered so when we think how young he must have been when he painted
them. Here are hens, chickens, geese, and ducks, all so natural that we
almost hear their cackle. Here are landscapes, interiors of Dutch homes,
and portraits without number, works of Tenier, Van Mieris, Van Dyck,
Peter Schilder, Dolens, Frans Hals, and the many other Dutch artists. It
is one of the most enjoyable collections of pictures we have anywhere
seen. It is a marvel to me how the old masters and the noted artists
ever did so much work; they must have gone right ahead, and not even
laid down their brushes long enough to have had pleasant little disputes
over the hanging of their pictures. But thanks to them for having left
to us such great sources of pleasure!
Amsterdam abounds in excellent charitable institutions. I think I could
name over as many as there are in Boston; and there are schools and
societies for educating the poor, and for their advancement, that do
great credit to the citizens. I am told that the rich here of every sect
spend freely their money for the benefit of the poor. There is a palace
on a square called the Dam, in the middle of the city, containing large
rooms, but without much elegance excepting the ball-room. The churches
of the city are numerous, and some fine ones, but as we have not time to
see everything in this remarkable place, we have decided to omit the
churches this time.
We were told of a ‘swell’ restaurant, and for a change dined there
to-day. It was a ‘swell’ place, we had a ‘swell’ dinner, and paid
‘swell’ prices. They certainly know how to tempt one’s appetite, but the
submitting to the temptation must be generously paid for. We have seen a
fine statue of Rembrandt; and we have observed objects very new to us,
which are queer, ludicrous-looking faces, over the doors of drug stores,
with mouths wide open, and tongues protruding, as if to show that they
were coated, or feverish, and needed doctoring. I was so amused at these
that I asked the meaning of them, if they had any, but no one seemed to
know, only that they were called ‘Gappers.’
After seeing pretty thoroughly the business part of the city, we were
more surprised than ever upon being driven to the aristocratic end,
where the wealthier people live, to find so much beauty. The streets
were broad and finely cared for; the residences palatial, large, and
varied in architecture, with beautiful grounds about them. Fine
carriages abounded, filled with well-dressed people, in whom we supposed
we saw the descendants of the Van Dycks, Van de Werffs, and all of the
other Vans; and these families maintain much elegance and regal style in
living. In this drive we had many glimpses of it; and ended the day by
being entertained right royally in one of these beautiful homes by a
gentleman and his charming family, to whom we had letters of
introduction, and who had previously called upon us, and engaged us for
the evening. If we could have spared time to accept, these people would
have extended many courtesies to us, and their cordial hospitality we
shall never forget. The whole of Amsterdam is indeed delightful, and far
exceeds my expectations. We leave it with regret. We made hasty
excursions to Haarlem, to see the wonderful hyacinths and tulips; and to
the over-clean town of Broek, where notices are put on doors ‘to take
off your shoes before entering;’ and to the Island of Marken, in the
Zuider Zee, to see the queer dress of the peasants who live there, and
never leave their homes, nor ever intermarry with the inhabitants of the
mainland. Their costume is the same as that worn by their ancestors of a
hundred years ago.
[Illustration: decorative bar]