Before you reach Rotterdam you ride through a long series of country-houses with flower-gardens, separated from the road on either side by a narrow canal. The entrance to each of the houses is over a mighty drawbridge, which contrasts oddly enough with the insignificance of the water, over which a good leap would carry you. Just as ‘baroque’ are the tower-like windmills outside the town: they are gilded, and ornamented with the wildest carvings, besides which, the walls of many of them are so finely covered with thick rushes that at a distance they look like fur; others resemble the skin of a crocodile; some are like Chinese pagodas; but, in spite of all this extravagance, the whole group produces a very striking effect. Interspersed among them are seen the rising masts of the vessels in the harbour, and the great glass roof under which the ships of war are built, announcing a maritime and commercial city.
I soon entered a long street thronged with people, at the end of which a high black clock tower, with flaming red figures and hands, served as ‘point de vue;’ and it was a good quarter of an hour before I reached the Hotel des Bains, on the quay, where I am now very well and comfortably lodged. From my window I look down upon a broad expanse of water, and the four steam-vessels, one of which is to convey me the day after to-morrow to England. Boats row swiftly to and fro, and the busy crowd hurry along the quay, the edge of which is adorned with lofty elms, probably cotemporaries of Erasmus. After a little walk under these trees, I ate a good dinner, and then added to this ell-long letter, which alas, will cost more than it is worth. My health is not entirely as I wish it, though daily improving. Perhaps the sea will cure me.
September 26th.
The manner of living here approaches to that of England. They rise late, dine at ‘table d’hôte,’ at four o’clock, and drink tea in the evening. ‘Au reste,’ there is little amusement or variety for strangers, in this great city: there is not even a stationary theatre; the company from the Hague give occasional performances in a miserable house. Everybody seems occupied with trade, and finds his recreation after it only in domestic pleasures, which are indeed the most appropriate and the best, but in which a traveller can have no share. I went into the counting-house of a Jewish banker to change some English money: notwithstanding the insignificance of the sum, he behaved in the most respectful manner, and after carefully counting out the money for me, accompanied me to the door himself. I was not a little astonished to learn from my ‘laquais de place’ that this man’s fortune was estimated at two millions of guilders (gulden). It seems, therefore, that wealth has not yet made bankers so haughty and insolent here as at other places. I visited the arsenal, which, compared with English establishments of the like kind, appeared to me insignificant. Many of the large buildings are covered with pasteboard, which is said to be very lasting, and looks very well. Square sheets of pasteboard, of an ordinary thickness, are dipped several times into a cauldron of boiling tar, till they are thoroughly saturated with it: they are then hung up to dry in the sun. They are laid on a very flat roof, like sheets of copper, one over another, and nailed to planks underneath, which they thus preserve from the wet for many years. The officers of the yard assured me that a roof of this kind would last much longer than shingle, or than the best tarpauling. I was much interested by a very detailed model of a ship of war, which could be entirely taken to pieces. It was made for the naval school at Delft, and gives a perfect illustration of the instruction they receive. The King’s golden barge, or gondola, though probably not quite equal in magnificence to that of Cleopatra, was shown to me with great self-satisfaction by the Dutchmen. It is rotting away on dry land, being very seldom used.
The country round Rotterdam is famous for its pretty girls and excellent fruit, which (the latter I mean) forms a considerable article of export to England. Nowhere are such enormous grapes to be found. I saw some exposed to sale in the market, which had the appearance and the size of plums. Sauntering idly about, I saw an advertisement of a panorama of Ætna,—entered, in the train of a party of ladies,—and alas! lost my heart. The loveliest girl I ever saw, smiled upon me from the foot of the volcano, with eyes which must have borrowed their glow from its eternal fires, while her lips smiled archly with a bloom equal to that of the oleander at her side. The prettiest foot, and most exquisite symmetry of person,—all were combined to form an ideal, if not of heavenly, at least of the most seductive earthly beauty. Was this a Dutch woman? Oh no, a true Sicilian; but alas, alas! only painted. The glances she cast at me from her viny bower as I went out, were therefore those of triumphant mockery; for since Pygmalion’s days are over, there is no hope for me.
To-morrow, instead of the glowing sun and subterranean heat of Sicily, the cold wet sea will be around me; but I shall not say, with Voltaire, on quitting pleasant Holland,
‘Adieu Canards, Canaux, Canailles.’
I shall not write again till I reach London. I will tell you whether I determine to make a long stay there, which I shall decide on the spot. ‘En attendant,’ I send you a lithographic print of the steamboat in which I sail. A † marks, after the fashion in which the knights of old signed their names, the place where I stand, and with a little help from your imagination you will see how I wave my handkerchief, and send you a thousand affectionate greetings from afar.
Your faithful L——.