Dutch Life in Town and Country

by P. M. Hough

At a very early period in the nation's history the Church-masses began to wear a more worldly character, for the merchants made them an occasion for introducing their wares and trading with the people, just as they did at the ordinary 'year-markets.' These year-markets always fell on the same day as the Kermissen, but they had a different origin. They were held by permission of the Sovereign, and were first instituted to encourage trade; but gradually the Kermis and the year-market went hand-in-hand, for the people could no longer imagine a year-market without the Kermis amusements, or a Kermis without booths and stalls, so if there was not sufficient room for the latter to be built on the streets or squares, the priest allowed them to be put up in the churchyard or sometimes even in the church. Moreover, if it was not possible to have the year-market in the same week as the Kermis, then the Kermis was put off to suit the year-market, and these latter were of great aid to the religious festivals, for they attracted a greater number of people, and as dispensations were given for attending the masses both the churches and the markets benefited. The mass lasted eight days, and the year-market as long as the Church festival. The Church protected the year-markets, and rang them in. With the first stroke of the Kermis clock the year-market was opened and the first dance commenced, followed by a grand procession, in which all the principal people of the town took part, and when the last stroke died away white crosses were nailed upon all the bridges, and on the gates of the town. These served both as a passport and also as a token of the 'markt vrede' (market peace), so that any one seeing the cross knew that he might enter the town and buy and sell ad libitum, also that his peace and safety were guaranteed, and that any one who disturbed the 'markt vrede' would be banished from the place, and not be allowed to come back another year. In some places this yearly market was named, after the crosses, 'Cruyce-markt.'

Very festive is the appearance of a town in the Kermis week. On the opening day, at twelve o'clock, the bells of the cathedral or chief church are set ringing, and this is the sign for the booths to be opened and the 'Kermispret' to begin. Everywhere tempting stores are displayed to view, and although a scent of oil and burning fat pervades the air, nobody seems to mind that, for it only increases the delight the Kermis has in store for them. The stalls are generally set out in two rows. The most primitive of these is the stall of hard-boiled eggs and pickled gherkins, whose owner is probably a Jew, and pleasant sounds his hoarse voice while praising his wares high above all others. If he does prevail upon you to come and try one of his eggs and gherkins it only adds more relish to your meal when he tells you of the man who only paid one cent for a large gherkin which really cost two, and although he already had put it in his mouth he made him put the other part back. Or when you go to eat 'poffertjes,' which look so tempting, and with the first bite find a quid of tobacco in the inoffensive-looking little morsel, do not let this trifling incident disturb your equanimity, but try another booth. It is quite worth your while to stand in front of a 'poffertjeskraam' and see how they are made. The batter is simply buckwheat-meal mixed with water, and some yeast to make it light. Over a bright fire of logs is placed a large, square, iron baking-sheet with deep impressions for the reception of the batter. On one side sits a woman on a high stool, with a bowl of the mixture by her side and a large wooden ladle in her hand. This she dips into the batter, bringing it out full, then with a quick sweep of the arm she empties its contents into the hollows of the baking-sheet. A man standing by turns them dexterously one by one with a steel fork, and a moment later he pricks them six at a time on to the fork; this he docs four times to get a plateful, and then he hands it over to another man inside the booth, who adds a pat of butter and a liberal sprinkling of sugar. The 'wafelkramen' are not so largely patronized, as the price of these delicacies is rather too high for the slender purses of the average 'Kermis houwer,' but 'oliebollen'--round ball-shaped cakes swimming in oil--are within the reach of all, as they cost but a cent apiece. Servants and their lovers, after satisfying their appetites with these 'oliebollen,' go and have a few turns in the roundabouts by way of a change, and then hurry to the fish stall, where they eat a raw salted herring to counteract the effects of the earlier dissipation. The more respectable servant, however, turns up her nose at the herrings, and goes in for smoked eel. These fish-stalls are very quaint in appearance, for they are hung with garlands of dried 'scharretje' (a white, thin, leathery-looking fish), which dangle in front, and form a most original decoration. In the towns a separate day and evening are set apart for the servant classes to go to the fair, and there is also a day for the élite.

At the commencement of the reign of King William III. the whole Court, including the King and Queen, used to meet at The Hague Kermis on the Lange Voorhout on Thursday afternoons, between two and four o'clock, and walk up and down between the double row of stalls; and in the evening of that day they all visited either the most renowned circus of the season or went to see the 'Kermis stuk,' or special play acted in fan-time.

The servants' evening, as it is held in Rotterdam, is the most characteristic. It is an evening shunned by the more respectable people, for the 'Kermisgangers are a very rowdy lot. They amuse themselves chiefly by running along the streets in long rows, arm-in-arm, singing 'Hossen--hossen-hossen!' They also treat each other to 'Nieuw rood met suiker'--black currants preserved in gin with sugar--until they are all quite tipsy, and woe to any quiet pedestrian who has the misfortune to pass their way, for with loud 'Hi-has' they encircle him and make him 'hos' with them. The evening is commonly called the 'Aalbessen (black-currant) hos.'

Kermis: 'Hossen-Hossen--Hi-Ha!' (After the Picture of Van Geldrop)

An equally curious but not so bad a custom is the Groninger 'Koek eten.' All Groningers are fond of cake, and the 'Groninger kauke' is a widespread and very tasty production; but for this special purpose is used the 'ellekoek,' a very long thin cake, which, as its name implies, is sold by the yard. It is very tough, and just thin enough to hold in a large mouth, and when a man chooses a girl to keep Kermis with him they must first see whether they will suit one another as 'Vryer and Vryster' by eating 'ellekoek.' This is done in the following manner. They stand opposite one another, and each begins at an end and eats towards the other. They may not touch the cake with their hands, but must hold it between their teeth all the while they are eating, and if they are unable to accomplish this feat and kiss when they get to the middle it is a sure sign that they are not suited to one another, and so the partnership is not concluded. In some parts of Friesland and in Voorburg, one of the many villages near The Hague, there is another cake custom, the 'Koekslän,' which is a sort of cake lottery. The cakes are all put out on large blocks, which are higher at the sides than in the middle, and, for twopence, any one who likes may try his luck and see if he can break the cake in two by striking it with a stout stick provided by the stall-keeper for the purpose. It is necessary to do this in one blow, for a second try involves the payment of another fee. He who succeeds carries off the broken cake, and receives a second one as a prize. Some men are very clever at this, and manage to carry off a good many prizes.

Just as the Kermis is rung in by the bells, so also it is tolled out again. This, however, is not an official proceeding, but a custom among the schoolboys of the Gymnasium and Higher Burgher Schools. At The Hague, on the last day of the fair, all the 'schooljeugd' assembled in the Lange Voorhout, dressed in black, just as they would dress for a funeral, while four of them carried a bier, hung with wreaths and black draperies. On this bier was supposed to rest all that remained of the Kermis. In front of the bier walked a boy ringing a large bell, and proclaiming, 'De Kermis is dood, de Kermis wordt begraven' ('The Kermis is dead, and is going to be buried'). Behind the bier came all the other boys with the most mournful expression upon their faces they could muster for the occasion, and thus they carried the 'dead fair' through the principal streets of the town, and at last buried it in the 'Scheveningsche Boschjes.' But this custom is now a thing of the past, for the Kermis at The Hague has been abolished, even as it has been abolished in most of the other towns throughout the kingdom, for all authorities were agreed that fair-time promoted vice and drunkenness, and the old-fashioned Kermis is now only to be found in Rotterdam, Leyden, Delft, and some of the smaller provincial towns and villages.

The 6th of December is the day dedicated to St. Nicholas, and its vigil is one of the most characteristic of Dutch festivals. It is an evening for family reunions, and is filled with old recollections for the elders and new delights for the younger people and children. Just as English people give presents at Christmas time, so do the Dutch at St. Nicholas, only in a different way, for St. Nicholas presents must be hidden and disguised as much as possible, and be accompanied by rhymes explaining what the gift is and for whom St. Nicholas intends it. Sometimes a parcel addressed to one person will finally turn out to be for quite a different member of the family than the one who first received it, for the address on each wrapper in the various stages of unpacking makes it necessary for the parcel to change hands as many times as there are papers to undo. The tiniest things are sent in immense packing-cases, and sometimes the gifts are baked in a loaf of bread or hidden in a turf, and the longer it takes before the present is found the more successful is the 'surprise.'

The greatest delight to the giver of the parcel is to remain unknown as long as possible, and even if the present is sent from one member of the family to another living in the same house the door-bell is always rung by the servant before she brings the parcel in, to make believe that it has come from some outsider; and if a parcel has to be taken to a friend's house it is very often entrusted to a passer-by, with the request to leave it at the door and ring the bell. In houses where there are many children, some of the elders dress up as the good Bishop St. Nicholas and his black servant. The children are always very much impressed by the knowledge St. Nicholas shows of all their shortcomings, for he usually reminds them of their little failings, and gives them each an appropriate lecture. Sometimes he makes them repeat a verse to him or asks them about their lessons, all of which tends to make the moment of his arrival looked forward to with much excitement and some trembling, for St. Nicholas generally announces at what time he is to be expected, so that all may be in readiness for his reception.