This affair concluded, I went to Amsterdam to take leave of the amiable Steuerwald family, and came just in time to be present at some public festivities, celebrated, as it seemed to me, on very extraordinary grounds. The festival was in honor of the separation effected between Belgium and Holland twenty-five years before. This separation had been any thing but voluntary on the part of Holland, but it was nevertheless commemorated with great enthusiasm. The affair had already been going on for some days when I arrived, and was not to be finished under three or four more. Dutchmen seem to think it impossible to get through with a holiday under a week. On the other hand, the people are certainly very moderate in their requirements: all they want is license to parade about the streets from morning till late in the evening, to look at a few flags and wooden triumphal arches, and to see those who really do feast drive past on their way to banquets and to balls.
The chief solemnity was fixed for the 27th of August, the anniversary of the “separation.” I arrived on the afternoon of the 26th, and found every window decorated with flags, little triumphal arches here and there, gay with green boughs and colored paper, and such a crowd in the streets that my carriage could scarcely force its way through.
Next day there was certainly something extra to be seen. In spite of the streams of rain which kept pouring from the heavens (perhaps in token of mourning for the “separation”), the military turned out on parade; the king appeared on a tribune erected in the cathedral square, opposite the palace, listened to the speeches of the burgomaster, and of the leaders of the troops who still survived from those days, and made speeches in reply. Four hundred children sang the national anthem and other hymns. A monument was moreover uncovered—an obelisk, with the Goddess of Union standing thereupon, and its base resting on the heads of many lions, from whose open jaws streams of water gushed forth. In the evening we had a display of fire-works and illuminations.
I should not like to incur the imputation of passing a hasty judgment upon the people, nor do festivities of this description afford much opportunity for forming an opinion, for the same curiosity and the same contentment are found among the people all the world over when there is any thing to be seen. I was, however, disagreeably impressed here, as I had been already at the Hague and at Utrecht, by the frequent appearance of groups of slatternly women, three or four of them arm-in-arm, pushing their way noisily through the crowd, and sometimes even heading troops of half-drunken men, like so many Megæras, shouting and dancing as noisily as the topers themselves. This the Hollanders call jollity. I call it shamelessness; and am always grieved to see women fallen so low as to brazen out their shame in the face of the world.
After a hearty farewell to my friends I returned to Rotterdam, and on the 31st of August I betook myself on board the “Salt-Bommel,” 700 tons burden, Captain Juta, master.
Our ship was the first that was to carry a cargo of children from their native land; and as the 31st of August happened to be Sunday, and a very fine day, and as the Hollanders are just as inquisitive as any other nation, it is not to be wondered at that from the early morning the quays and the shore were lined with thousands of spectators. The good people had the consolation of looking at our ship all day long, for the steam-tug which was to take us in tow as far as the Nieuwe Sluis did not make its appearance till four o’clock in the afternoon.
On board there was as much life and bustle as on shore. The children came trooping in, a few at a time, accompanied by their relatives, and laden with eatables and with little keepsakes. Here a mother might be seen pressing her child to her bosom for the last time; there a father gave his son a few last words of counsel and exhortation before the journey began; and many parents, after several partings from their children, came hastening back to take a last look at the beloved faces. And when the ship at last moved from the shore, many were there who could be seen crying “farewell” after distance had rendered the sound inaudible. Handkerchiefs and hats were waved to wish us God-speed, and mighty “hurrahs” were raised; the whole city seemed to take an interest in our outgoing, as though the children had belonged to the people at large. This universal sympathy and excitement was a good panacea against mournful reflections. Children and parents shouted their loudest with the rest; and if many a poor mother sat down and dropped a tear as she parted from her darling, her low sob was drowned in the louder accents of rejoicing and farewell.
Whenever we passed a village, the shouting and waving of handkerchiefs began again. Happy youth, that can thus look forward with light heart to the unknown future!
Our progress to-day did not extend beyond eight miles (I must always be understood to mean geographical, or sea-miles, sixty to a degree). The steam-tug took leave of us in the evening. On the following day we drifted lazily as far as the wharf of Helvoetsluys, and here we had to remain at anchor for some days, with what patience we might, waiting for a wind.
These few days were enough to convince me that I must prepare myself for a very uncomfortable voyage with very uncongenial companions.