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.
LETTER XIV.
Hotel de l’Europe,
Antwerp, Belgium, August 9, 1888.
We reached here last night in time to take a look at this old city and to hear the ringing of ‘bells, bells, bells.’ We thought at first they were ringing on account of our arrival, or for some other unusual occasion, but find we were mistaken. The bells of Antwerp are ringing always. We find at our hotel the M.’s, our pleasant Chamouni friends, and it was a pleasant surprise indeed to have them meet and greet us; also Rev. Mr. G., of Boston.
Immediately after breakfast this morning we started for Brussels. We made every effort to have an early breakfast and have it quickly served, but the people of this land never hurry; they do not know the meaning of the word. At eight A.M. we were seated at our table in the dining-room ready to eat, and had ordered our breakfast prepared one hour before, but there was nothing ready for us. ‘Will you hurry up our breakfast?’ said E. to our sleepy-looking waiter. Slowly he answered, ‘It is cooking,’ in his own lingo. Ten minutes go by. Another nod to the stolid waiter; and in tones of entreaty, accompanied with a piece of money, E. said, ‘Will you not bring us something to eat?’ The man, still standing as stiff as a post, replied, ‘It is coming.’ ‘But we leave at eleven o’clock,’ said E. in the man’s own language. But the stupid Belgian did not see the joke, and did not relax a muscle.
We have had a delightful day in Brussels, and modern Brussels is a beautiful city and in many ways much like Paris. It has broad, handsome streets and boulevards, beautiful parks, squares and gardens, with many rich statues, monuments, artificial lakes and fountains. The city is built on and up and down a hill—the new and elegant part of Brussels on top, and the old and poorer part at the foot. The royal family of Belgium live here, and have several handsome palaces. The Capitol is a magnificent structure, and there are many noted churches; we went into several of them, but of all these things I shall not now tell you very much.
Service is always going on in some one part of these European cathedrals. In one that we stepped into to-day they were celebrating funeral rites, and before us were placed some painful paintings of Christ, showing his bleeding wounds. The Cathedral of St. Gudule is the largest and finest, and contains a great numbex of perfectly magnificent tapestries.