Dutch Life in Town and Country
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P. M. Hough >> Dutch Life in Town and Country
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16 Produced by Distributed Proofreaders
[Illustration: The Delft Gate at Rotterdam.]
Dutch Life in Town and Country
By
P. M. Hough, B.A.
With Thirty-Two Illustrations
Contents
I. National Characteristics
II. Court and Society
III. The Professional Classes
IV. The Position of Women
V. The Workman of the Towns
VI. The Canals and Their Population
VII. A Dutch Village
VIII. The Peasant at Home
IX. Rural Customs
X. Kermis and St. Nicholas
XI. National Amusements
XII. Music and the Theatre
XIII. Schools and School Life
XIV. The Universities
XV. Art and Letters
XVI. The Dutch as Readers
XVII. Political Life and Thought
XVIII. The Administration of Justice
XIX. Religious Life and Thought
XX. The Army and Navy
XXI. Holland Over Sea
Index
List of Illustrations
The Delft Gate at Rotterdam
Types of Zeeland Women
Zeeland Peasant--The Dark Type
A Zeeland Woman--The Dark Type
Dutch Fisher Girls
A Bridal Pair Driving Home
A Dutch Street Scene
A Sea-Going Canal
A Village in Dyke-Land
A Canal in Dordrecht
An Overyssel Farmhouse
An Overyssel Farmhouse
Approach to an Overyssel Farm
Zeeland Costume
Zeeland Costumes
An Itinerant Linen-Weaver
Farmhouse Interior, Showing the Linen-Press
Type of an Overyssel Farmhouse
A Farmhouse Interior, Showing the Door into the Stable
Farmhouse Interior, the Open Fire on the Floor
Palm Paschen--Begging for Eggs
Rommel Pot
A Hindeloopen Lady in National Costume
Rural Costume--Cap with Ruche of Fur
An Overyssel Peasant Woman
Zeeland Children in State
Kermis 'Hossen-Hossen--Hi-Ha!'
St. Nicholas Going His Rounds on December 5th
Skating to Church
Parliament House at the Hague--View From the Great Lake
Interior of Delftshaven Church (Where the Pilgrim Fathers Worshipped
Before Leaving for New England)
Utrect Cathedral
Dutch Life in Town and Country
Chapter I
National Characteristics
There is in human affairs a reason for everything we see, although not
always reason in everything. It is the part of the historian to seek in
the archives of a nation the reasons for the facts of common experience
and observation, it is the part of the philosopher to moralize upon
antecedent causes and present results. Neither of these positions is taken
up by the author of this little book. He merely, as a rule, gives the
picture of Dutch life now to be seen in the Netherlands, and in all things
tries to be scrupulously fair to a people renowned for their kindness and
courtesy to the stranger in their midst.
And this strikes one first about Holland--that everything, except the old
Parish Churches, the Town Halls, the dykes and the trees, is in
miniature. The cities are not populous, the houses are not large, the
canals are not wide, and one can go from the most northern point in the
country to the most southern, or from the extreme east to the extreme
west, in a single day, and, if it be a summer's day, in _day-light_,
while from the top of the tower of the Cathedral at Utrecht one can look
over a large part of the land.
[Illustration: Types of Zeeland Women.]
As it is with the natural so it is with the political horizon. This latter
embraces for the average Dutchman the people of a country whose interests
seem to him bound up for the most part in the twelve thousand square miles
of lowland pressed into a corner of Europe; for, extensive as the Dutch
colonies are, they are not 'taken in' by the average Dutchman as are the
colonies of some other nations. There are one or two towns, such as The
Hague and Arnhem, where an Indo-Dutch Society may be found, consisting of
retired colonial civil servants, who very often have married Indian women,
and have either returned home to live on well-earned pensions or who
prefer to spend the money gained in India in the country which gave them
birth. But Holland has not yet begun to develop as far as she might the
great resources of Netherlands India, and therefore no very great amount
of interest is taken in the colonial possessions outside merely home,
official, or Indo Dutch society.
[Illustration: Zeeland Peasant--The Dark Type.]
With regard to the affairs of his country generally, the state of mind of
the average Dutchman has been well described as that of a man well on in
years, who has amassed a fair fortune, and now takes things easily, and
loves to talk over the somewhat wild doings of his youth. Nothing is more
common than to hear the remarks from both old and young, 'We _have_ been
great,' 'We have _had_ our time,' 'Every nation reaches a climax;' and
certainly Holland has been very great in statesmen, patriots, theologians,
artists, explorers, colonizers, soldiers, sailors, and martyrs. The names
of William the Silent, Barneveldt, Arminius, Rembrandt, Rubens, Hobbema,
Grotius, De Ruyter, Erasmus, Ruysdael, Daendels, Van Speijk, Tromp afford
proof of the pertinacity, courage, and devotion of Netherland's sons in
the great movements which have sprung from her soil.
To have successfully resisted the might of a Philip of Spain and the
strategy and cruelties of an Alva is alone a title-deed to imperishable
fame and honour. Dutch men and women fought and died at the dykes, and
suffered awful agonies on the rack and at the stake. 'They sang songs of
triumph,' so the record runs, 'while the grave diggers were shovelling
earth over their living faces.' It is not, therefore, to be wondered at
that a legacy of true and deep feeling has been bequeathed to their
descendants, and the very suspicion of injustice or infringement of what
they consider liberty sets the Dutchman's heart aflame with patriotic
devotion or private resentment. Phlegmatic, even comal, and most difficult
to move in most things, yet any 'interference' wakes up the dormant spirit
which that Prince of Orange so forcibly expressed when he said, in
response to a prudent soldier's ear of consequences if resistance were
persisted in, 'We can at least die in the last ditch.'
Until one understands this tenacity in the Dutch character one cannot
reconcile the old world methods seen all over the country with the
advanced ideas expressed in conversation, books, and newspapers. The
Dutchman hates to be interfered with, and resents the advice of candid
friends, and cannot stand any 'chaff.' He has his kind of humour, which is
slow in expression and material in conception, but he does not understand
'banter.' He is liberal in theories, but intensely conservative in
practice. He will _agree_ with a new theory, but often _do_ as his
grandfather did, and so in Holland there may be seen very primitive
methods side by side with _fin de siecle_ thought. In a _salon_ in any
principal town there will be thought the most advanced, and manner of life
the most luxurious; but a stone's-throw off, in a cottage or in a
farmhouse just outside the town, may be witnessed the life of the
seventeenth century. Some of the reasons for this may be gathered from the
following pages as they describe the social life and usages of the people.
In the seven provinces which comprise the Netherlands there are
considerable differences in scenery, race, dialect, pronunciation, and
religion, and therefore in the features and character of the people.
United provinces in the course of time effect a certain homogeneity of
purpose and interest, yet there are certain fundamental differences in
character. The Frisian differs from the Zeelander: one is fair and the
other dark, and both differ from the Hollander. And not only do the
provincials differ in character, dialect, and pronunciation from one
another, but also the inhabitants of some cities differ in these respects
from those of other cities. An educated Dutchman can tell at once if a man
comes from Amsterdam, Rotterdam, or The Hague. The 'cockney' of these
places differs, and of such pronunciations 'Hague Dutch' is considered the
worst, although--true to the analogy of London--the best Dutch is heard in
The Hague. This difference in 'civic' pronunciation is certainly very
remarkable when one remembers that The Hague and Rotterdam are only
sixteen miles apart, and The Hague and Amsterdam only forty miles. Arnhem
and The Hague are the two most cosmopolitan cities in the kingdom, and one
meets in their streets all sorts and conditions of the Netherlander.
[Illustration: A Zeeland Woman--The Dark Type.]
All other towns are provincial in character and akin to the county-town
type. Even Amsterdam, the capital of the country, is only a commercial
capital. The Court is only there for a few days in each year; Parliament
does not meet there; the public offices are not situated there; and
diplomatic representatives are not accredited to the Court at Amsterdam
but to the Court at The Hague; and so Amsterdam is 'the city,' and no more
and no less. This Venice of the North looks coldly on the pleasure seeking
and loving Hague, and jealously on the thriving and rapidly increasing
port of Rotterdam, and its merchant princes build their villas in the
neighbouring and pleasant woods of Bussum and Hilversum, and near the
brilliantly-coloured bulb-gardens of Haarlem, living in these suburban
places during the summer months, while in winter they return to the fine
old houses in the Heerengracht and the many other 'grachten' through which
the waters of the canals move slowly to the river. But to The Hague the
city magnates seldom come, and the young men consider their contemporaries
of the Court capital wanting in energy and initiative, and very proud, and
so there is little communication between the two towns--between the City
and Belgravia. One knows, as one walks in the streets of Amsterdam, The
Hague, Rotterdam, or Utrecht, that each place is a microcosm devoted to
its own particular and narrow interests, and in these respects they are
survivals of the Italian cities of the Middle Ages. There is, indeed,
great similarity in the style of buildings, and, with the exception of
Maestricht, in the south of the country, which is mediaeval and Flemish,
one always feels that one is in Holland. The neatness of the houses, the
straight trees fringing the roads, the canals and their smell, the
steam-trams, the sound of the conductor's horn and the bells of the
horse-trams, the type of policeman, and above and beyond all the universal
cigar--all these things are of a pattern, and that pattern is seen
everywhere, and it is not until one has lived in the country for some time
that one recognizes that there are differences in the mode of life in the
larger towns which are more real than apparent, and that this practical
isolation is not realized by the stranger.
The country life of the peasant, however, is much more uniform in
character, in spite of the many differences in costume and in dialect. The
methods of agriculture are all equally old-fashioned, and the peasants
equally behind the times in thought. Their thrifty habits and devotion to
the soil of their country ensure them a living which is thrown away by the
country folk of other lands, who at the first opportunity flock into the
towns. But the Dutch peasant _is_ a peasant, and does not mix, or want to
mix, with the townsman except in the way of business. He brings his garden
and farm produce for sale, and as soon as that is effected--generally very
much to his own advantage, for he is wonderfully 'slim'--he rattles back,
drawn by his dogs or little pony, to the farmhouse, and relates how he has
come safely back, his stock of produce diminished, but his stock of
inventions and subtleties improved and increased by contact with
housewives and shopkeepers, who do their best to drive a hard bargain. In
dealing with the 'boer' the townspeople's ingenuity is taxed to the utmost
in endeavouring to get the better of one whose nature is heavy but
cunning, and families who have dealt with the same 'boer' vendor for years
have to be as careful as if they were transacting business with an entire
stranger. The 'boer's' argument is simplicity itself: 'They try to get the
better of me, and I try to get the better of them'--and he _does_ it!
If, however, there are these differences between city and city and class
and class, there is one common characteristic of the Dutchman which, like
the mist which envelops meadow and street alike in Holland after a warm
day, pertains to the whole race, viz. his deliberation, that slowness of
thought, speech, and action which has given rise to such proverbs as 'You
will see such and such a thing done "in a Dutch month."' The Netherlander
is most difficult to move, but once roused he is far more difficult to
pacify. Many reasons are given for this 'phlegm,' and most people
attribute it to the climate, which is very much abused, especially by
Dutch people themselves, because of its sunlessness during the winter
months; though as a matter of fact the climate is not so very different
from that in the greater part of England. The temperature on an average is
a little higher in summer and a little lower in winter than in the eastern
part of England; but certainly there is in the southern part of the
country a softness in the air which is enervating, and in such places as
Flushing snow is seldom seen, and does not lie long. But the same thing is
seen in Cornwall. Hence this climatic influence is not a sufficient reason
in itself to account for the undeniable and general 'slowness' of the
Dutchman. It is to be found rather in the history of the country, which
has taught the Netherlander to attempt to prove by other people's
experience the value of new ideas, and only when he has done so will he
adopt them. This saps all initiative.
There is a great lack of faith in everything, in secular as well as
religious matters, the Dutchman will risk nothing, for four cents' outlay
he must be quite certain of six cents in return. As long as he is in this
mood the country will 'mark time,' but not advance much. The Dutchman
believes so thoroughly in being comfortable, and, given a modest income
which he has inherited or gained, he will not only not go a penny beyond
it in his expenditure, but often he will live very much below it. He would
never think of 'living up to' his income; his idea is to leave his
children something very tangible in the shape of guldens. A small income
and little or no work is a far more agreeable prospect than a really busy
life allied to a large income. All the cautiousness of the Scotchman the
Dutchman has, but not the enterprise and industry. With his
cosmopolitanism, which he has gained by having to learn and converse in so
many languages, in order to transact the large transfer business of such a
country as the Netherlands, he has acquired all the various views of life
which cosmopolitanism opens to a man's mind. The Dutchman can talk upon
politics extremely well, but his interest is largely academic and not
personal; he is as a man who looks on and loves _desipere in loco_.
The Dutchman is therefore a philosopher and a delightful _raconteur_, but
at present he is not doing any very great things in the international
battle of life, though when great necessity arises there is no man who can
do more or do better.
Chapter II
Court and Society
Society life in Holland is, as everywhere else, the gentle art of escaping
self-confession of boredom. But society in Holland is far different from
society abroad, because The Hague, the official residence of Queen
Wilhelmina, is not only not the capital of her kingdom, but is only the
third town of the country so far as importance and population go. The
Hague is the royal residence and the seat of the Netherlands Government;
but although, as a rule, Cabinet Ministers live there, most of the members
of the First Chamber of the States-General live elsewhere, and a great
many of their colleagues of the Second Chamber follow their example,
preferring a couple of hours' railway travelling per day or per week
during the time the States sit, to a permanent stay. Hence, so far as
political importance goes, society has to do without it to a great extent.
Nor is The Hague a centre of science. The universities of Leyden, Utrecht,
and Amsterdam are very near, but, as the Dutch proverb judiciously says,
'Nearly is not half;' there is a vast difference between having the rose
and the thing next to it. In consequence the leading scientific men of the
Netherlands do not, as a rule, add the charm of their conversation to
social intercourse at The Hague.
High life there is represented by members of the nobility and by such
high officials in the army, navy, and civil service as mix with that
nobility. Of course there are sets just as there are everywhere else, sets
as delightful to those who are in them as they are distasteful to
outsiders; but talent and money frequently succeed in making serious
inroads upon the preserves of noble birth. This is, however, unavoidable,
for the Netherlands were a republic for two centuries, and the scions of
the ancient houses are not over-numerous. They fought well in the wars of
their country against Spain, France, and Great Britain, but fighting well
in many cases meant extermination.
On the other hand, two centuries of republican rule are apt to turn any
republicans into patricians, particularly so if they are prosperous,
self-confident, and well aware of their importance. And a patrician
republic necessarily turns into an oligarchy. The prince-merchants of
Holland were Holland's statesmen, Holland's absolute rulers; two centuries
of heroic struggles, intrepid energy, crowned with success on all sides,
may even account for their belief that they were entrusted by the Almighty
with a special mission to bring liberty, equal rights, and prosperity to
other nations.
When, after Napoleon's downfall, the Netherlands constituted themselves a
kingdom, the depleted ranks of the aristocracy were soon amply filled from
these old patrician families. Clause 65 of the Netherlands constitution
says, 'The Queen grants nobility. No Dutchman may accept foreign
nobility.' This is the only occasion upon which the word nobility appears
in any code. No Act defines the status, privileges, or rights of this
nobility, because there are none. There is, however, a 'Hooge Raad van
Adel,' consisting of a permanent chairman, a permanent secretary, and
four members, whose functions it is to report on matters of nobility,
especially heraldic and genealogic, and on applications from Town Councils
which wish to use some crest or other. This 'High Council of Nobility'
acts under the supervision of the Minister of Justice, and its powers are
regulated by royal decrees, or writs in council. The titles used are
'Jonkheer' (Baronet) and 'Jonkvrouw,' Baron and Baroness, 'Graaf' (Earl)
and 'Gravin.' Marquess and Duke are not used as titles by Dutch noblemen.
If any man is ennobled, ail his children, sons as well as daughters, share
the privilege, so there is no 'courtesy title;' officially they are
indicated by the father's rank from the moment of their birth, but as long
as they are young it is the custom to address the boys as 'Jonker,' the
girls as 'Freule.'
For the rest, life at The Hague is very much like life everywhere else. In
summer there is a general exodus to foreign countries; in winter, dinners,
bazaars, balls, theatre, opera, a few officiai Court functions, which may
become more numerous in the near future if the young Queen and Prince
Henry are so disposed, are the order of the day. For the present, 'Het
Loo,' that glorious country-seat in the centre of picturesque, hilly,
wooded Gelderland, continues to be the favourite residence of the Court,
and only during the colder season is the palace in the 'Noordeinde,' at
The Hague, inhabited by the Queen.
Her Majesty, apparently full of youthful mirth and energy, enjoys her life
in a wholesome and genuine manner. State business is, of course, dutifully
transacted; but as the entire constitutional responsibility rests with the
Cabinet Ministers and the High Councils of State, she has no need to feel
undue anxiety about her decisions. She is well educated, a strong patriot,
and has on the whole a serions turn of mind, which came out in pathetic
beauty as she took the oath in the 'Nieuwe Kerk' of Amsterdam at her
coronation. How far she and her husband will influence and lead Society
life in Holland remains to be seen. Both are young, and their union is
younger still. During the late King's life and Queen Emma's subsequent
widowhood, society was for scores of years left to itself, and of course
it has settled down into certain grooves. But, on the other hand, the
tastes and inclinations of well-bred, well to do people, with an
inexhaustible amount of spare time on their hands, and an unlimited
appetite for amusement in their minds, are everywhere the same. Of course,
Ministerial receptions, political dinners, and the intercourse of
Ambassadors and foreign Ministers at The Hague form a special feature of
social life there, but here, again, The Hague is just like European
capitals generally.
Once every year the Dutch Court and the Dutch capital proper meet.
Legally, by the way, it is inaccurate to indicate even Amsterdam as the
capital of Holland; no statute mentions a capital of the kingdom, but by
common consent Amsterdam, being the largest and most important town, is
always accorded that title, so highly valued by its inhabitants. The Royal
Palace in Amsterdam is royal enough, and it is also sufficiently palatial,
but it is no Royal Palace in the strict sense of the word. It was built
(1649-1655), and for centuries was used, as a Town Hall. As such it is a
masterpiece, and one's imagination can easily go back to the times when
the powerful and masterful Burgomasters and Sheriffs met in the almost
oppressing splendour of its vast hall. It is an ideal meeting-place for
stern merchants, enterprising shipowners, and energetic traders. Every
hall, every room, every ornament speaks of trade, trade, and trade again.
And there lies some grim irony in the fact that these merchants, whose
meeting-place is surmounted by the proud symbol of Atlas carrying the
globe, offered that mansion as a residence to their kings, when Holland
and Amsterdam could no longer boast of supporting the world by their
wealth and their energy.
Here they meet once a year--the stern, ancient city, represented by its
sturdy citizens, its fair women, its proud inhabitants, and Holland's
youthful Queen, blossoming forth as a symbol of new, fresh life, fresh
hope and promise. Here they meet, the sons and daughters of the men and
women who never gave way, who saw their immense riches accrue, as their
liberties grew, by sheer force of will, by inflexible determination, by
dauntless power of purpose; here they meet, the last descendant of the
famous House of Orange-Nassau, the queenly bride, whose forefathers were
well entitled to let their proud war-cry resound on the battlefields of
Europe: 'A moi, genereux sang de Nassau!'
When the Queen is in Amsterdam the citizens go out to the 'Dam,' the
Square where the palace stands, offering their homage by cheers and
waving of hats, and by singing the war-psalm of the old warriors of
William the Silent, 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwe.' Then the leaders of
Amsterdam, its merchants, scientists, and artists, leave their beautiful
homes on Heeren-and Keizers-gracht, with their wives and daughters
wrapped in costly garments, glittering in profusion of diamonds and
rubies and pearls, and drive to the huge palace to offer homage to their
Queen, just as proud as she, just as patriotic as she, just as faithful
and loyal as she.
Three hundred years have done their incessant work in welding the House of
Orange and Amsterdam together; ruptures and quarrels have occurred; yet,
after every struggle, both found out that they could not well do without
each other; and now when the Queen and the city meet, mutual respect,
mutual confidence, and reciprocal affection attest the firm bond which
unites them.
To the Amsterdam patriciate the yearly visit of the Queen is a social
function full of interest. To the Queen it is more than that; she visits
not only the patricians, she also visits the people, the poor and the
toilers. Of course Amsterdam has its Socialists, and a good many of them,
too, and Socialists are not only fiery but also vociferous republicans as
a rule, who believe that royalty and a queen are a blot upon modern
civilization. But their sentiments, however well uttered, are not popular.
For when 'Our Child,' as the Queen is still frequently called, drives
through the workmen's quarter of Amsterdam, the 'Jordaan' (a corruption of
the French _jardin_), the bunting is plentiful, the cheering and singing
are more so, and the general enthusiasm surpasses both. The 'man in the
street,' that remarkable political genius of the present age, has scarcely
ever wavered in his simple affection for his Prince and Princess of
Orange; and though this affection is personal, not political--for nothing
is political to 'the man in the street'--there it is none the less, and it
does not give way to either reasoning or prejudice.
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