“Burnt on the water; the poop was beaten gold,
“Purple the sails, and so performed, that
“The winds were love-sick with them.”
The blunder of the waiter added not a little to the delights of my passage, for I sat a solitary grandee upon the top of the cabin, without a soul to interrupt the happy frame of my mind formed by the lovely prospects on every side of me. In this agreeable manner three hours and a half passed away with feathered fleetness, and at the end of a long avenue of trees and a line of water, the spires and elevated buildings of Leyden appeared. We stopped about half way from the Hague at Leydehendam, a very neat pretty village, the neighbourhood of which abounds with pleasure houses and gardens. The country as I approached Leyden appeared to be thickly wooded, and displayed the novel variety of a gentle undulation of ground. After passing through a beautiful boulevard, and crossing some drawing bridges, I entered the elegant city of Leyden through the white gate, and proceeded to a very comfortable hotel in the principal street, called the Broad street, the length, spaciousness, and beauty of which entitles it to the highest admiration: there is no canal in it, and the buildings on each side are very handsome, many of them splendid mansions. This seat of learning is considered to be one of the handsomest in Holland, and next in size to Amsterdam; the entrance to it is through seven stone gates, at each of which is a draw-bridge: the town is surrounded with a rampart, and a deep, broad canal, and is adorned by beautiful shady walks. The number of bridges in this city is astonishing, they are said to exceed one hundred and forty-five of stone and railed with iron. It has also many canals, the most beautiful of which is the Rapenburg. It has been compared by travellers to Oxford, but I cannot see any resemblance, except in its being devoted to learning, and consequently presenting many of those features of meditation and consequent tranquillity, which are to be found in places destined to similiar objects: but in its fortification, its buildings, streets, and canals, there is unquestionably no resemblance. The channels or gutters of the Broad street are covered with boards which open like a trap door, into which the moment any dirt is lodged, it is removed by persons appointed for that purpose; and lofty common pumps, with large brass ornaments constantly scoured and kept bright, are placed in different parts of it, to supply the inhabitants and to purify the street, of which they are not a little proud. The fame of Lucas Van Leyden made the stadt-house or town-hall the object of my first visit; it is a vast gothic building, presenting a very long irregular front, in a very uncouth style of architecture, surmounted by a small steeple, which is crowded with carillons, and stands in the centre of the Broad street. As I ascended the grand staircase, a painter was giving a finishing touch to some large stone lions, which by way of blending them with the stone colour of the rest of the building, he had painted vividly red. In one of the apartments, which was very heavy and gloomy, I beheld the celebrated production of Lucas Van Leyden, or Hugens, who was born here in 1494, and died in 1533. This picture is in three divisions, the two external smaller ones being made like folding doors, to close if necessary over the middle one. The subject is the last judgment, for which vast sums of money have been repeatedly offered to the magistrates of the town and refused. I must confess I felt no more pleasure in contemplating this picture than what arose from its great antiquity. There are a great number of figures in it: the females are wholly destitute of beauty, at the same time there is a freedom in the outline: many of their limbs appear to be elongated, and every head seems to have been taken from the same subject, and wholly destitute of expression; however, considering the early period in which the artist flourished, it is a very curious and valuable production. This painter was instructed in the principles of his art by his father, Hugens Jacobs, an artist of some consideration: it is said that Lucas from his infancy displayed incessant application, and at the age of nine and twelve years astonished the artists of his time by his works. After he had learned the rudiments of his art under his father, he became a pupil of Cornelius Engelbrecht; at the age of fifteen he painted the history of St. Hubert, which elevated him to high distinction in his art. On account of the principles of perspective not being known in his early time, he proportioned the strength of his colouring to the different degrees of distance, in which his objects were placed. He painted not only in oil, but in destemper and on glass. A famous print of this master’s engraving, the subject a bagpiper, is also mentioned, which sold for a hundred ducatoons or twenty pounds sterling.
In the justice hall is a celebrated picture of Harel de Moor, who was born in this town in 1656; the subject, Brutus condemning his sons, the design, the colouring and finishing of which are very beautiful. De Moor had great and highly merited honours paid to him by various princes and distinguished personages, particularly by the emperor of Germany who directed his ambassador Count Singendoff to engage him to paint the portraits of Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough on horseback, with which his imperial patron was so gratified, that he conferred upon him the honour of knighthood, and nobly rewarded him in a more substantial manner for his admirable production: he had also the honour of painting that mighty savage of the North, Peter the Great, Czar of Muscovy. Under the picture of Brutus are some elegant Latin verses; there is also a large picture representing the bravery of its citizens, who are rendered immortal in the page of history for the heroic valour they displayed during a siege, which in the year 1573, for five months, visited this place with all the horrors of war, disease, and famine. The historian can scarcely do adequate justice to these heroes. After the Spaniards had been compelled to raise the siege of Alkmaar, they determined upon directing their forces against Leyden, from the trenches of which they were bravely repulsed by Count Louis of Nassau, brother to the then Prince of Orange; but having been reinforced, they returned to the attack; when the Spanish general, Francis Valdey, discovering that he could not take the place by storm, resolved upon reducing it by famine, and a scene of horror ensued which baffles the powers of the pen to describe. The Spanish General, Frederic of Toledo, son of the execrable Duke of Alva, repulsed a body of English auxiliaries who were coming to the relief of the besieged, in consequence of which the blockade was so vigilantly conducted, that the wretched inhabitants could derive no provisions from without. In this dreadful dilemma, they drew lots to determine which should fall each day to afford sustenance to the rest with their bodies; and it is said that the spirit of patriotism ran so high, that many of them anticipated this desperate alternative, and voluntarily slew themselves to furnish food to their brave fellow-citizens and soldiers. An extraordinary female patriot, of the name of Kenneva, headed the women, led them to the ramparts, where they assisted the nearly exhausted soldiery in working the cannon, and displayed that enthusiastic courage which great occasions will generally find lodged in that bosom which is the seat of every gentle, every tender feeling, and ought only to heave with the tenderest emotions. Many of them stabbed themselves, to assist in preserving the survivors, and expiring exclaimed, “See, my poor valiant friends, your provision for the rest of the day.” But notwithstanding these terrible sacrifices, and supplies of human flesh, many thousands of the garrison and burghers perished. The Spaniards, having been informed of their situation, again summoned them to surrender, and allowed a truce of an hour for deliberation, during which a consultation was held, the unanimous determination of which was contained the following reply: “Tell your arrogant general, that we shall not want the means of life whilst a left arm remains upon any of our shoulders, and with our right we shall continue to fight for our liberties to the last.” At length, broken down by their frightful situation, and hopeless of relief, after having exhibited prodigies of valor, and the sublimest acts of patriotism and resignation, the miserable survivors of this ghastly scene of desolation assembled round the house of Peter Adrian de Werf, the chief magistrate of the city, a man of great influence amongst the people, and implored him to sanction with his fiat the surrender of the place; but this noble being preferring, like Cato, to perish rather than see his country in the possession of a tyrant, thus addressed his emaciated brethren: “My brave comrades! cut this body in pieces; it is better that I should die for you, than by the enemy: my wounds disable me from further service. Take courage, let me receive death from your hands, and let my miserable frame furnish a wretched meal for some of you. Take me, and may Leyden be victorious, and her glory immortal!” Deeply impressed by such firmness and eloquence, his auditors turned their haggard countenances aside, and with the convulsive energy of expiring nature, rushed again to the rampart, and soon afterwards they were thrown into an agony of joy by the arrival of two carrier pigeons, to whose feet were tied stalks of corn and hemp, in which letters were concealed, announcing that relief was at hand. The Dutch confederates, having no other mode of relieving the inhabitants of Leyden, broke down the dykes of the Maese and the Yssel, inundated the Spanish camp, and the beautiful country which surrounds Leyden, and enabled Louis Brissot, admiral of Zealand, to send many flat-bottomed boats, well armed, to the succour of the besieged. This desperate measure compelled the Spanish general to evacuate his camp, and to retire with such of his army as did not perish by the waters, into their own country. This siege, which commenced shortly after Easter, was raised the third of October, on which day a supply of provisions was brought to the famished inhabitants, who greedily devoured the food, amidst tears and convulsive inarticulate exclamations to heaven for their delivery, and many of them dropped down dead upon too rapidly satisfying their ravenous appetites. After this signal deliverance, the Prince of Orange, although suffering under severe illness, ordered himself to be carried in a litter to Leyden, to condole with and express his admiration of its heroic inhabitants: the interview, as well as many scenes which occurred during the siege, must have afforded a fine subject for the pencil. He gave them their option of being exempted for a certain period from taxes, or of having an university founded in their town; when, with noble and disinterested wisdom, they gave the preference to the latter. Never did any seat of learning originate from a nobler cause: it may be said to have been endowed by the blood of the brave. The clergy of Leyden, in a public oration, still celebrate the anniversary of the glorious third of October, in which the story of the siege, and the deliverance of the town are feelingly recapitulated. I was surprised to find that such a subject had not more frequently engaged the pencil of the many divine artists which Holland has produced: the picture which led me to mention the above story is, in my humble opinion, unworthy of the subject; the figures are badly grouped, and express no one emotion which can affect the mind. After quitting the stadt-house, the evening being very fine, I ascended a large mount, which may be considered as a great curiosity in Holland, in the centre of the town, where there is a fine view of it: this mount is surrounded by a high wall, and is said to be the scite of a castle built by Hengist, king of the West Saxons, on his conquest in England, or, what is more likely, by one of the antient counts of Holland. The town presented a very beautiful appearance from this spot, but it is not elevated enough to enable the visitor to see the surrounding country: the fruit-trees in the gardens which encompassed the wall were loaded with very fine fruit, particularly pears, plumbs, and apples. This place is much resorted to, on Sundays and holidays, by the citizens and their families, to smoke and enjoy the beauty of the prospect, and the refreshing sweetness of the air.
The next morning I visited the university of Leyden, which stands by the Rapenburg canal: it is the most venerable seminary in Holland; and, by the great number of learned and famous men which it has produced, does honour to the luster of its origin. There is scarcely a science which has not been improved and extended in this hallowed seat of learning; which has to boast amongst its members the immortal name of the younger Scaliger, who bequeathed to it his valuable Hebrew library; of the two Hensius, father and son; the former of whom was invited by Pope Urban the eighth to Venice, “to rescue,” as he expressed it, “that city from barbarism;” and both of whom shone like stars of the first magnitude in every branch of graceful literature; of Salmasius, the profound and able competitor of our immortal Milton; of Boerhaave, whose consummate knowledge of physic, attracted pupils from the most distant parts of Europe; and of many other illustrious persons, who have shed honour and distinction upon their country and the times in which they flourished. The students board in town at different lodging-houses, wherever their inclinations or resources may dispose them; they wear no regular habit; when the professors appear in public, they wear a large black silk gown, bordered with velvet, on which the word ‘Leyden’ is worked in silver. My next visit was to the botanic garden, rendered immortal by the illustrious Boerhaave, as that of Upsal, in Sweden, has been by Linnæus. Haller says, in speaking of Boerhaave in the Leyden Botanical Garden, “sæpe vidimus ante Auroram optimum senen ligneiscalceis per hortum repentem, ut comminus et cultum herbarum perspiceret, et flores fructusque specularetur.” We have often seen the good old man before the morning dawn, crawling about the garden in the wooden slippers, that he might immediately superintend the culture of plants, and speculate on their flowers and fruits. This great man was born at Woerhout, near Leyden, in 1668; at the age of fifteen he found himself without parents, protection, advice, or fortune: he had then profoundly studied theology, intending to devote himself to a clerical life; but the science of nature presented all her attractions, and for some time wholly absorbed his contemplation. In 1693 he was created doctor of physic, which he then regularly practised. At this time he could scarcely exist by his labours, and was compelled to teach the mathematics to procure the bare necessaries of life, although he left at his demise the vast fortune of two hundred thousand pounds. At length his genius dissolved the darkness in which he was enveloped, many powerful friends gathered round him, and procured for him the valuable appointments of professor of medicine in the university of Leyden, of chemistry, and of botany. The Academy of Sciences at Paris and the Royal Society at London, to each of which he imparted his discoveries in chemistry, invited him to become one of their members. Whilst Boerhaave presided in the chair, in chemistry, medicine, and botany, the city of Leyden was considered the school of Europe in these sciences. In 1715, when Peter the Great went to Holland to study maritime affairs, he regularly attended the lectures of Boerhaave. So widely diffused was his fame, that a mandarine in China wrote to him a letter thus superscribed; “To the illustrious Boerhaave, physician in Europe,” and it was regularly received. It was the daily practice of this eminent physician, through his whole life, as soon as he rose in the morning, which was generally very early, to retire for an hour to private prayer, and meditation on some part of the Scriptures. He often told his friends, when they asked him how it was possible to go through so much fatigue, that it was this which gave him spirit and vigour in the business of the day. This he therefore recommended as the best rule he could give; for nothing, he said, could tend more to the health of the body than the tranquillity of the mind, and that he knew nothing which could support himself and his fellow-creatures, amidst the various distresses of human life but a well-grounded confidence in the Supreme Being, upon the principles of christianity: the truth of his doctrine he finely illustrated in his severe illness in 1722, when the course of his lectures and his practice were long interrupted. Of his sagacity and wonderful penetration in the discovery and description of such distempers as betray themselves by no symptoms to common eyes, such surprising accounts have been given, as scarcely can be credited, though attested beyond all doubt. Yet this great master of medical knowledge was so far from feeling a presumptuous confidence in his mighty talents, or from being inflated by his prodigious wealth, that his condescension to the humblest being who approached him, and his unceasing professional application were ever the theme of admiration and astonishment.
He often used to say, what will make many a practitioner in physic tremble, that the life of a patient (if trifled with or neglected), would one day be required at the hand of the physician. He used to call the poor his best patients, nobly observing, that God would be their paymaster; the lustre of his eyes bespoke the activity and vivacity of his mind. He was always cheerful and desirous of promoting every valuable end of conversation. He disregarded calumny and detraction; for even Boerhaave had enemies, and never troubled himself to confute them. “They are sparks,” said he, “which, if you do not blow, will go out of themselves. The surest remedy against scandal is to live it down, by a perseverance in well doing; and by praying to God that he would cure the distempered minds of those who traduce and injure us.” He was never over-awed by the magnificence or presence of great men, but boldly persisted in proceeding in what he considered to be right, and left the consequence to God. He was enabled, with unexampled celerity and acuteness, to penetrate into the tempers and characters of persons at a glance of his eye. A friend, one day, who had often admired his patience under great provocations, asked him, if he ever knew what it was to be angry? to which Boerhaave replied with the most perfect frankness, “that he was naturally quick of resentment; but, that by prayer and meditation, he had obtained complete mastery over his passions; this he attributed, as he did every good thought, and every laudable action, to his God.”
About the middle of the year 1737, he felt the first approaches of that indisposition which was destined to bring him to his grave, viz. a disorder in his breast, which was occasionally very painful, often threatened him with immediate suffocation, and finally terminated in an universal dropsy: during all the anguish which he suffered, his placid temper and firmness of mind never forsook him; he attended at once to the ordinary duties of life as if in full health, and prepared for that death which his skill and experience enabled him to know was not very distant.
About three weeks before his dissolution, when the Rev. Mr. Schultens, one of the most learned and exemplary divines of his age, attended him at his country-house, the Doctor desired his prayers, and afterwards entered into a sublime discourse with him on the spiritual and immaterial parts of the soul, which he illustrated with wonderful perspicuity, by a description of the effects which the infirmities of his body had upon his faculties, which, however, they did not so oppress, or vanquish, but his soul was always master of itself, and always resigned to the pleasure of its Maker, and then added, “He who loves God ought to think nothing desirable but what is most pleasing to the supreme goodness.” As death approached nearer, he seemed to be more happy, amidst the increase of corporeal torments, and at length, on the 23d September, 1738, he sunk under them in his 70th year. His funeral oration was spoken in Latin before the university of Leyden, to a crowded audience, by his friend Mr. Schultens, amidst tears of genuine regret and sympathy. The city of Leyden has raised a monument in the church of St. Peter, to the sanative genius of Boerhaave, “Salutifero Boerhaavii genio sacrum.” It consists of an urn upon a pedestal of black marble, with a group representing the four ages of life, and the two sciences in which Boerhaave excelled. The capital of this basis is decorated with a drapery of white marble, in which the artist has shown the different emblems of disorders, and their remedies. Upon the pedestal is the medallion of Boerhaave; at the extremity of the frame, a ribband displays the favourite motto of this learned man, “Simplex vigilum veri.” Professor Allamand had destined a very fine piece of red jasper to be employed in this medallion, but on account of the great expense of cutting the stone his design was abandoned. His pictures represent him as above the middle size, well proportioned, and of a strong constitution; when age had silvered over his hair, his countenance was said to have been extremely venerable and expressive, and to have much resembled the head of Socrates, but with features more softened and engaging. He was an eloquent orator, and declaimed with great dignity and grace. He taught very methodically, and with great precision, but always so captivated his auditors, that they regretted the close of his discourses, which he often enlivened with a sprightly turn of raillery; but it was ever refined, ingenious, and incapable of offending. He used to say, “that decent mirth was the salt of life.” In the practice of medicine he gave a decided preference to green over dried herbs, thinking that there was more virtue in herbs when they had their juices, than when decayed and withered. He was a great admirer of simples, and consequently was not a great patron of the apothecaries. When health would permit he regularly rode on horseback; when his strength began to fail he walked, and upon his return home, music, of which he was passionately fond, gladdened the hours of relaxation, and enabled him to return to his labours with redoubled alacrity. Dr. Johnson has written the following beautiful eulogium on this great man; “A man formed by nature for great designs, and guided by religion in the exertion of his abilities; determined to lose none of his hours, when he had attained one science, he attempted another; he added physic to divinity; chemistry to the mathematics, and anatomy to botany. He recommended truth by his elegance, and embellished the philosopher with polite literature; yet his knowledge, however uncommon, holds in his character but a second place; for his virtue was more uncommon than his learning. He ascribed all his abilities to the bounty, and all his goodness to the grace of his God. May those who study his writings imitate his life! and those who endeavour after his knowledge, aspire likewise to his piety.”