HOTEL VIEUX DOELEN,
THE HAGUE, HOLLAND, _August 6th, 1888_.
In coming from Amsterdam here we saw water-lilies--sheets of them--on
rivers and dikes! Yes, just like our own New England blossoms. How I did
want the cars to stop, so that I could get a breath of their
fragrance--a breath of Cape Cod--a breath of Plymouth ponds--a breath of
East Taunton’s sweetest offerings! We saw storks too, tall and stately,
carrying with them good luck, and bearing good omens. Our hotel here is
a noted one; it is several centuries old, and has been always the
stopping place for members of noble families, travelling from all over
the world. It has been several times restored, and is very comfortable.
Peter the Great and his suite, King Don Ferdinand of Portugal, and a
list, as long as your arm, of kings, princes, and dukes, have been
registered as guests in this historic old mansion. On our arrival the
house was crowded, and to F. and myself was given the state guest
chamber, in which these crowned heads have rested. The furniture of the
large room, which is on the first floor, is massive, made of mahogany,
ebony and gilt, with light-blue silk coverings, and puffs of light-blue
silk to throw over our tired bodies. So much elegance for us, while E.
is tucked up under the roof somewhere, so full is the house.
After arranging our luggage in our room, and resting a wee bit, off we
started for Scheveningen. It took but a short time to reach this
celebrated watering-place by steam-cars, which we took to save time. As
we stepped out of our car at the station a strange picture greeted us.
There before us was the North Sea, throwing its big waves toward the
beach--the first glimpse of sea that we had had for many a day, and its
roar was music to us. The broad beach was smooth, hard, and white, and
at this point was covered, as were also the dunes in back of it, with
the peasantry, Dutch women and children, old grandmothers, and mothers
with their little ones of all ages, playing in the beautiful white sand.
We spread our wraps on the beach, and sat down amongst them and we are
evidently as strange a sight to them, as they are to us. The wee urchins
gradually approach us in a shy manner, but E. coaxes them nearer by
distributing bits of coin amongst them, and speaking words which they
understand; and a close look at their sweet, fresh faces is worth the
price. These little ones are fair, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed tots, with
long, flaxen tresses, surmounted by little, close, white caps. They are
dressed alike, in dark-blue dresses, with little handkerchiefs crossed
on their chests, and all wear wooden shoes. The costumes of old and
young vary but little, and all look fresh and clean. The women were
knitting, and chatting with each other, and occasionally one would go
toward the water, hold her hands over her eyes, and peer far out to sea.
They were straining their sight to catch glimpses of the boats that
carried the men most dear to them. These wives and mothers come
mornings with their fishermen, push them out on the water in their boats
with a ‘God speed you,’ and then stay on the beach, with their children
and their knitting, until the men sail in again. They then help drag the
boats on shore, unload, and carry the freshly caught fish to market. The
lucky fellow who has caught the greatest number of fish as his day’s
work is entitled to kiss the maid he thinks the prettiest in the crowd,
and the rest look on and clap their hands, and there seems to be no
jealousy amongst them. The Dutch fishing boats, with their brown sails,
are queer-looking craft, and have been painted by many of our own
artists. The beach from here extends for about forty miles, I am told,
in a straight line, washed by the cold North Sea waves--without rocks or
inlets.
We next proceeded to the fashionable end of the beach; a division rope
separates the portion allotted to the fisherwomen from this. What will
divide the poor from the rich in heaven, I wonder? Will it not be Father
Abraham’s voice only, when he says the words, ‘Remember that thou in
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things’? How different this scene! Here
is a fashionable watering-place, with huge hotels, restaurants, stores,
and crowds of stylish people. This is more like Old Point, Narragansett,
or Newport than anything we have before seen. But the beach is superior
to any of these, and the bathing-wagons on wheels, in which the bathers
are carried to the water, and back to the hotels after their baths, were
quite new to us. They contain all toilet utensils, an abundance of
towels, and are most certainly a great improvement over the way bathers
at our own sea-side resorts come out of the water, with dripping
costumes clinging to the skin, to face a crowd of lookers-on. Here, too,
a space for those who bathe is roped off, and others are not allowed to
go within that enclosure. The bath-chairs were also a great delight to
me. Here were hundreds of them, basket-work, with covers and without,
and footstools added, in which we could sit and look upon the sea,
protected from the sun and the wind. Some were for one, and in others
two or three could sit together. The sense of rest was most delightful
in these chairs, with the broad, blue expanse of water and sky before
us. Gay, merry children were riding about on ponies and donkeys, and the
road between the hotels and the beach was filled with carriages and
people on horseback.
But the hours flew rapidly amidst such scenes as these, and the sun was
going to rest; so, reluctantly, we turned our steps toward the big hotel
on the crest. The piazzas were crowded with people in full dress, but,
with our travelling gowns on, we mixed in, and went to dinner. In the
house was a beautiful hall or concert room, and after dinner the
Philharmonic Orchestra of Berlin gave a choice concert there. The music
was superb, and nowhere in Europe had we seen so fine-looking an
assemblage; many of the ladies were remarkably handsome, and all were
dressed in excellent taste.
_Hotel Vieux Doelen, The Hague, August 7th._--You would have laughed had
you been with us in our fine room this morning. Our commode looks like a
sideboard, and is so high that I had to stand on a chair to take my
morning splash; and as I began to fill my bowl with water, something
jumped, and so did I. ‘The shade of Peter the Great!’ said F., but it
was only a little, harmless toad, which had probably come in at the
window, which I had left open. The arrangements for bathing and washing
in houses in this land are very meagre and inconvenient.
The Hague seems a very elegant, sleepy, quiet city. The streets are
broad, many of them bordered with handsome limes, and the residences are
large and square. Canals are here, also, but do not seem to be used
much, if any, and the water looks stagnant. In one street, the odor from
the canal was very offensive, although the streets on its borders were
beautiful ones, and this is the residence of the Court; in fact, the
place has really the appearance of an exclusive little royal city
dropped in the centre of a grand old forest. It has pretty parks and
gardens, and a pleasant promenade around a lake, called the Vijver, or
fish pond, from the water of which the old palace seems to be rising. In
the square is the statue of William the Silent, who did so much to
effect the liberty of Holland, and who was a father to its people. This
brave man’s faith never failed him, nor did he ever swerve from what
seemed to him his duty, through political storms or discouraging
defeats; freedom for all, and the right to worship God in accordance
with the dictates of one’s own conscience he fought for as long as he
lived. In Delft, a little town near by, he was struck down by an
assassin.
The best stores here have very little appearance, from the outside, of
being stores at all. Perhaps, as a sign, there is one elegant vase, or a
choice piece of drapery in the window; but upon stepping within, room
after room filled with exquisite goods surprises you--rare laces, china,
furniture, antiques, and everything else beautiful to tempt one to buy.
I very much wished to go into the palace where the King of Holland and
his family live. We have seen many palaces where royalty has resided,
but few occupied by kings and queens at the present time. We succeeded
in gaining permission to do so, not expecting to see more than the state
apartments. As we neared the palace entrance we saw the royal carriage
stop at the door and the King and Queen and their little daughter the
Princess Wilhelmine, with a maid, enter it. The carriage was a heavy,
lumbering-looking affair with two horses only. We might have been much
nearer them, but our escort said no, as an introduction might then be
necessary, and it was no compliment to American ladies to be presented
to the present King of Holland, but I looked with all my eyes and this
is what I saw: A man, over seventy years old surely, feeble-appearing in
his gait, and, although not bad looking, with a certain tell-tale
appearance of having led a somewhat profligate life. The young Queen
Emma looks about twenty-eight, has a full face, bright complexion, and
pleasant expression, and was dressed in a gray costume. She is, you
know, his second wife, and a daughter of the Prince of Waldeck-Pyrmont,
one of the poor, insignificant sovereigns of Germany, and she is sister
to the Duchess of Albany, the daughter-in-law of Queen Victoria. It is
said there was much feeling on the part of the Dutch against this young
woman at first, for it was thought her great ambition was to be Queen of
the Netherlands; but she has made her way into the hearts of the people,
and has proved also a good wife and mother. The King’s first wife was
the Princess Sophia of Wurtemburg, and was a remarkably talented,
gracious woman, a fine linguist, musical, a charming conversationalist,
unaffected, affable in manner, and dearly beloved by her people. She
died about ten years ago. She had two sons, both now dead. So the little
Wilhelmine, whom we saw, will be, after her father’s death, which cannot
be far off, the Queen of Holland. She is a pretty child, and looked in
dress and movements no different from hundreds of our own little
eight-year-old girls. The people here seem to be much attached to their
king, and say he has been a benefactor to them, and that his public life
has been beyond reproach, whatever his faults in private life may have
been.
As they drove away we entered the palace through the same door at which
they came out, and were most kindly shown through it. Their
breakfast-table remained just as the family had left it after taking
their morning meal. Probably servants do not hurry ‘to clear off the
table’ in royal households, any more than they do in our own homes when
we go out for a morning jaunt. Everything in the dining-room was rich
and elegant, and the gold breakfast-service worth looking at. The
drawing-rooms, reception-rooms, libraries, and other apartments were in
truth palatial, and altogether it was by far the finest palace we have
seen.
They have another palace about three miles away, called
‘Huis-ten-Bosch,’ or House in the Wood, to which a little later we were
driven; and it was a drive, the memory of which will always seem
restful. The day was lovely, and as we rolled along over the splendid
road in the woods, which is really an immense, woody park, retaining all
its natural beauties, it was so quiet that we could hear a leaf fall.
The birds only broke the stillness with their occasional trills, and we
met no life on our way excepting a party of ladies on horseback with
their groom. After so much bustle the restful, shadowy stillness was
delightful to us. This summer palace is a plain building surrounded by
beech trees, is very richly furnished, and contains valuable pictures
and rare, costly ornaments, superb draperies, and curiosities. Queen
Sophia dearly loved this ‘Huis-ten-Bosch,’ and spent much of her time
within it. Here she cordially welcomed her friends, without ceremony,
forgetful of station and self, ever keenly alive to the happiness and
needs of all who came into her presence. She once remarked ‘that God
seemed nearer to her here than elsewhere.’ The present Queen seldom
comes here.
We next went into the Holland Exposition, now open. O dear! the days are
not half long enough to see all we wish to. You will be glad, I know,
when I tell you that we do not get very tired. We ride instead of
walking much, so as to save our strength for interiors where we must
walk and stand; and we eat often, for E. says ‘machinery so constantly
run must be often oiled.’ How I wish I could run in to ‘144’ to-day and
have one of their delicious home dinners,--roast chickens, all kind of
vegetables, prepared just right, jellies and pickles, and all at hand
when wanted, and, not the least of the sweets, the always sweet welcome,
thrown in! We do get so tired of these table d’hôte dinners,--every dish
served without any seasoning, and only one at a time, and the waits
between courses long enough for one’s hair to grow gray. And yet what
creatures of habit we are. E. likes it, because he has lived over here
so much of his life that he has become accustomed to it. It is a
perverted taste, and most surely a great waste of precious time. Our
bill of fare for dinner has been just about the same every day since we
left the Schweizerhoff at Schaffhausen, where it was most acceptably
varied.
To show that we can be wrongly educated in our appreciation of food and
in the way we eat it, I will venture to tell you a true story of a
little boy we know, who had lived in France and Germany the greater part
of his life of ten years. He was taken to New York a year or so ago, and
there studied English with his governess. One fine day his aunt took him
to her home in the country to spend the day. When he returned at night
he said he was hungry. ‘Why, did you not have any dinner?’ he was asked.
‘I did not eat any.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I did not want it.’ ‘Why not?’ was
again asked, curiosity becoming excited. At last the little fellow, so
closely questioned, cried out in despair, in his broken English,
‘Because Auntie had “swill” for dinner.’ Upon investigation it was
ascertained that the dinner was the old-fashioned, substantial one of
corned beef and its satellites of various vegetables served at the same
time. The boy, the day before, had been reading a story about pigs, in
which the word ‘swill’ was used. He asked his teacher what that word
meant,--an inelegant one at best,--and she told him, a little hastily
perhaps, that it meant bits of meat, potato, turnip, or other particles
of food all thrown together; and he thought, in his day’s visit, that he
had an ocular and tangible demonstration of the definition.
_The Hague, Wednesday, August 8th._--The memorables of to-day: First,
the Royal Picture Gallery, where are many costly and valuable treasures.
I have anticipated much pleasure in seeing the collection here, knowing
well of many of the paintings, and I have not been disappointed.
Rembrandt’s ‘Lecture on Anatomy,’ known of the world over, is a
wonderful study, and a grand representation of death and life on canvas.
The old learned doctor Nicholas Tulp, with a dead body before him, is
explaining to seven other surgeons the dissecting of the subject. These
faces are all real portraits of physicians, and the expressions of
interest and attention given in them to the lecturer’s words and
movements are grandly and wonderfully portrayed. Nor is there the
slightest thing repulsive in the picture; on the contrary, it has the
effect of making one desirous of sitting down to listen to the lesson
also. Here too is Rembrandt’s ‘Presentation,’ a perfect gem: Joseph and
Mary are presenting the ‘Holy Child’ for a blessing. Paul Potter’s
famous ‘Bull’ is here, which Napoleon once stole and took to Paris, and
it was then rated as the fourth picture in the Louvre, but after
Napoleon’s star of power had set the Dutch reclaimed it. This picture
represents a bull, looking as if really alive, standing under the
branches of a tree; a cow, and a lamb with its parents, are also near by
resting, and a pleasant-faced old farmer, standing with his arm on the
trunk of the tree, is looking on well satisfied. These figures are life
size, and are full of vigor. Although the collection here does not
please me as much as the one in Amsterdam, it contains many gems of the
Dutch and Flemish schools. Here are Berghems, Van Der Helsts, and
Ruysdaels--mellow landscapes and restful pastoral scenes, helpful to
look upon. But oh, I wish you could see all the grand paintings that are
in this country! It pains me, dear mother, to enjoy so much and you not
with me; but we shall not forget all we see, and will tell you more
about it sometime.
Storks are kept in the city at the public expense, as they are the arms
of The Hague, the same as bears are of the city of Berne. And now,
good-by to this aristocratic town, and on to Rotterdam, our last Holland
city.
Rotterdam is something like Amsterdam, although not nearly as
attractive, nor anywhere nearly as clean. It is a large place, and its
shipping interests considerable; its canals and wharves are crowded.
Here, as in Amsterdam, the houses are, many of them, built on piles, and
the land is kept land by keeping the water in the canals, locks, and
basins. It requires much money, good systems, and much energy to do
this, but the Dutch have proved themselves equal to it. We hear here
such names as the ‘Hoogstraat’ (one of the streets), the ‘Schiedamsche
dyke,’ etc., regular jaw-breakers. In fact, I think if Americans can
understand or be understood in Holland, they need have no fears of not
being able to travel in other parts of the globe, so far as ‘language’
is concerned.
We took a drive through the new portion of the city, where are many
elegant residences. We went into two churches; saw a fine statue of
Erasmus the scholar, also one of Spinoza. We then went into many of the
old, crooked, narrow streets of the older part of the city, called
Binnenstad, and here everything looked very ‘Dutch’ like; and it is the
queer aspect of these foreign cities that I particularly enjoy,--the
markets on market-day especially. The peasants at their stalls, in the
funny gowns and funnier head-dresses, are perfectly fascinating. We
bought delicious cherries and strawberries of them to-day. Some of the
women had caps on that had long capes, others with caps close to the
head, and others with inside frills, but one and all had the gold, gilt,
or silver band across the forehead, and the wire rosettes and pendants
at the temples.
We talked up our little stock of Dutch history here, remembering that it
was in this town that the Puritans of England, when persecuted, fled for
refuge; and here ‘John Robinson [one of our own ancestors] fired them
with longings for liberty, and they set sail to go across two seas to
find a new home where they would have freedom to worship God.’ What an
amount of studying we will do next winter, and Motley’s ‘Rise of the
Dutch Republic’ we are looking forward to reading with much pleasure.
Our admiration of the Dutch, always great, is much increased by this
trip through their country. When one sees the obstacles they had to
contend against in making their land habitable--old ocean itself for
one,--and the victory they have achieved, it seems more wonderful even
than their conquering the tyranny of Spain. They are an industrious,
persevering, and honest people.
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