A tour through Holland

by Sir John Carr

The coast of Scheveling is considered very dangerous in rough weather: the spires of the church here, and those of Gravesande and Monster, three leagues to the south, serve for landmarks; yet, owing to the coast of the province of Holland lying very low and flat, they are scarcely discernible three or four leagues at sea: for want of sand-banks to break the force of the sea, the coast is much exposed, and the fishermen are obliged, after their return, to haul their vessels on rollers up the beach beyond the water’s reach: this labour must be very great, for many of them are from twenty to thirty-five tons burthen.

This place has been at different periods subject to dreadful irruptions of the sea, particularly in the year 1574, when it broke in, and carried away 121 houses: Scheveling has its portion of historic celebrity. In 1650, the expatriated Charles II. after a long exile, embarked from this place for Scotland, to which he was invited, with a promise of assistance in recovering the rest of his dominions. Clarendon, in his History, vol. iii. p. 287, says, the king went from the Hague to Scheveling, where “the States of Holland, at infinite hazard to themselves from Cromwell and England, suffered their ship to transport him. They gave all countenance to the Scotch merchants and factors who lived in their dominions, and some credit, that they might send arms and ammunition, and whatsoever else was necessary for the king’s service, into that kingdom.” And this the States did “when the king was at his lowest ebb, and was heartily weary of being in a place (Paris) where he was very ill-treated, and lived very uncomfortably, and from whence he foresaw he should soon be driven.” Having experienced the most romantic vicissitudes after his escape from Worcester, this monarch, in the disguise of a sailor, escaped to Dieppe in Normandy, in 1651; and he again, in 1660, embarked at Scheveling on board of his own fleet, which was waiting to receive him. The grateful monarch declared war against his Dutch friends in 1672, and entered into a private league with the French king to lay waste their provinces with fire and sword. From this beach too the Stadtholder, his son the hereditary prince, and two or three Dutch noblemen attached to the prostrate fortunes of the house of Orange, embarked when they fled to England: the vessel they sailed in was a small fishing cutter, navigated by five men; the princesses took their departure in a similar conveyance the day before.

Another interesting event also is recorded as having occurred off this coast, by Bishop Burnet, who in the History of his Own Times thus relates this marvellous circumstance: “There was one extraordinary thing happened near the Hague this summer (1672); I had it from many eye-witnesses, and no doubt was made of the truth of it by any at the Hague. Soon after the English fleet had refitted themselves, they appeared in sight of Scheveling, making up to the shore. The tide turned, but they reckoned that with the next flood they could certainly land the forces that were on board, where they were like to meet with no resistance. The States sent to the prince for some regiments to hinder the descent. He could not spare many men, having the French near him; so between the two, the country was given up for lost unless De Ruyter should quickly come up. The flood returned, which the people thought was to end in their ruin; but to all their amazement, after it had flowed two or three hours, an ebb of many hours succeeded, which carried the fleet again to sea; and before that was spent, De Ruyter came in view. This they reckoned a miracle wrought for their preservation.” It is also a curious circumstance that the reverse of this extraordinary effort of nature enabled the immortal Nelson to lay his fleet so as to bear upon the batteries by which the capital of Denmark was protected. The tide had never been known, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant of Copenhagen, to have risen so high as on the day when the battle first commenced, and greatly contributed to his success in persuading the gallant Danes that they were beaten.

De Ruyter, the Nelson of the Dutch, was distinguished for the boldness of his designs and the celerity of his execution. In 1653, with Van Tromp, he commanded the Dutch fleet against this country with the greatest honour to his flag. The Moors presented him with a Barbary horse, magnificently caparisoned, for his gallantly reaching his destined port in the Salee roads, and for capturing five powerful Algerine corsairs. The celebrated vice-admiral d’Estrés said of him in a letter to Colbert, on account of his noble conduct in those hard-fought engagements between the English, Dutch, and French fleets off the Texel, “I should be very willing to purchase with my life the glory which De Ruyter has acquired in these desperate actions.”

On our return we met groups of little girls, whose short petticoats, and protuberances on all sides, looked very grotesque. Many of the Dutch girls of the lower order wear twenty or thirty yards of flannel tied round their hips. In the village is a pauper house for the poor and aged, founded in 1614. On a week day, the road from Scheveling is more characteristically gay, being covered with fishwomen running and singing to the Hague, under loads of soles, cod, turbot, &c. to which place I returned, highly delighted with my excursion. In the neighbourhood of that city are several fine flower-gardens. The passion of the Dutch for flowers is well known. M. Dutens, in his very entertaining and interesting Memoirs of a Traveller in Retirement, says, that at the kermis or fair held at the Hague in the month of May, “I was witness to a circumstance I could not otherwise have believed, respecting the price of flowers in Holland; I saw four hundred and seventy-five guineas offered and refused for a hyacinth. It was to be sure the most charming flower that ever was seen: it belonged to a florist at Haarlem, and another florist offered this price for it. The reason which the owner gave me for refusing the offer was, that his hyacinth was known to all the amateurs of Europe, and that he sold the bulbs every year for more than the interest of five hundred guineas. These bulbs produced the same sort of flower in all its beauty.” This singular passion has not subsided: at Haarlem fine narcissuses and jonquils sell for an immense price, and parties are made every summer to visit the roses, which grow in great perfection at Noordwyk.

Upon our return to the Hague, we visited a palace of the ci-devant hereditary Prince of Orange; it forms three sides of an oblong square towards the street; it was converting into a public office; behind are some pretty gardens, one of which is less formal than Dutch gardens in general. I concluded the day by walking round a great part of the town, the whole of which is surrounded with avenues of trees, similiar to, but not so fine as the boulevards of Rouen. In the fish-market, the next day, I saw several storks, who were parading about in perfect security, of which they seemed to be thoroughly satisfied, and were every now and then regaled by the offal of the fish. The prejudices of the people have consecrated these birds, on account of their being considered as the gardes du corps of republican liberty. The Greeks and Romans regarded them with peculiar veneration; and in Thessaly the destroyer of one was punished with exile. No animal but this discovers any token of fondness for the authors of its existence after it has attained strength and discrimination sufficient to provide for itself. The stork is well known to evince an exemplary regard for its aged parents, whom it defends from attack, and furnishes with food; and well did it deserve the Roman appellation of “pia avis.” The Dutch frequently erect frames of wood upon the tops of their houses to encourage these their favourite birds to build their nests there. Perhaps another reason why these birds are so much cherished is that which renders them popular in Germany, namely, on account of their quick perception of fire, and the noise they make when it takes place. If the Dutch really believed that the storks could exist only in a pure republic, they must for some time past have renounced their credulity, for these birds have survived the visits of the French, and seem to have no objection to be enrolled amongst the subjects of the new King. It is said that they assemble at certain periods and hold consultations. Certain it is that the crows in England frequently meet with all the appearance of a deliberative body. A gentleman of distinguished talents and veracity assured me, that he once observed a vast body of crows assembled near his country-house, that after making a great deal of noise, one of them moved slowly into the middle, soon after which the rest fell upon him and pecked him to death. The quails are another species of privileged birds in Holland, particularly in Guelderland, where they are preserved with superstitious care in cages suspended on the outsides of houses. The swan too is much venerated here, and the raven is greatly cherished at Nimeguen.

The traveller will be well remunerated for his trouble in ascending to the top of the tower of St. Jacques, the only high devotional building in the Hague, except the new church: to obtain permission to do so, it is necessary to apply to the principal magistrate of the police, the reason for which precaution I could not learn. The view from this elevation is exquisitely beautiful; below, on one side lay expanded the square, the venerable pile of the town palace, its superb basin, the noble streets leading towards the wood, and the spires of distant villages fading in midst of the horizon; whilst, on the other side, stretched the avenues of Scheveling, terminated by the blue and sparkling ocean.

A whimsical little penalty followed this gratification; at the hotel where I resided, a Dutch waiter attended me, who imposed upon his master to believe that he spoke English very fluently, in consequence of which he was selected to wait upon all English and American visitors: the English language of this personage was a ridiculous collection of the heads, legs, wings, and tails of English words, mingled together with all the confusion of a giblet-pye. Upon my expressing to this flippant gentleman my wish to ascend the tower of the church, he said, interrupting me, “Oh, de roof, de roof.” I acquiesced, and away he flew; about an hour afterwards he returned in high perspiration with a billet, which instead of proving to be an order to view the town and country from the roof of the tower, was an acknowledgment of money for the ruif of the treckschuyt for Leyden the day following, viz. the whole of the cabin which he had engaged and paid the amount of for me.

In Holland, that bee-hive of industry, every available source of service is made use of, so that dogs, and even goats, are not suffered to pick the bone, or eat the bread of idleness. Most of the little wares and merchandizes, and particularly fish, are drawn by the former, who are properly harnessed for the occasion to little carts, whilst the latter are yoked to infantine waggons and curricles, to air and exercise little children in. It is really astonishing to see what weight these animals will draw after them; nothing can exceed their docility, and for their labour, the Hollander, who is remarkable for his humanity to the dumb creation, feeds them well, and lodges them in his house very comfortably. Owing to the great care paid to their dogs, the canine madness seldom appears amongst them. On Sundays they are permitted to refresh and enjoy themselves, and never show any disposition to escape from their lot of industry. In their farms, cows and oxen are always used in draft, and display every appearance of receiving the kindest treatment from their masters.

The theatre at the Hague is tastefully arranged, and supplied with a tolerable set of French comedians. The centre box is appropriated for the royal family, and is elegantly fitted up. Before the conversion of the republic into a kingdom, when the government resided in the hands of the Batavian directory, the ornaments of the box which was allotted to them, were very unworthy of the rank of the personages for whose accommodation it was reserved: a piece of paper, on which was written, “Le loge du directoire Batave,” and pasted on the box door, alone announced the dignity of its destination. The usual national spirit of economy used to display itself in the Dutch theatre, where, to prevent a useless consumption of tallow, whenever the musicians quitted the orchestra, they were bound by contract to extinguish the lights by which they read their music. In many tradesmen’s houses at this day in Holland, winter courtships are carried on in the dark, the union of warm love and rigid economy being considered a very laudable conjunction.