A Tour Through the Batavian Republic/Letter V
LETTER V.
November, 1800.
WE quitted Rotterdam about five in the afternoon of the 9th of November, in the treckschuyt, or passage-boat, for Delft, on our way to the Hague. The weather was unpleasant and tempestuous, but nothing indicated the furious hurricane which overtook us at the distance of a mile from Rotterdam. It resembled in violence rather the tornadoes which desolate the tropics, than an European tempest. The rage of the wind, and the heavy rain which accompanied it, the agitation of the water, the darkness of the night, and the alarms of the passengers, conspired to render our situation dreadful. The oldest person did not remember a more tremendous storm, and no hurricane that I ever witnessed in the West Indies could be compared with it for violence. The elevation of the canal, some feet above the level of the earth, exposed the boat to the whole force of the wind, and it was absolutely impracticable either to advance or return. In this dangerous situation we must have remained all night, but fortunately towards nine in the evening the storm was so much abated, as to permit us to reach Overschie, a miserable village about the distance of three miles from Rotterdam.
Here we landed, happy at our escape from the treckschuyt, to pass the night. The canal was overflowed, and half the village inundated with water: at every step we were wet to the knees, and torrents of rain completely drenched our upper garments. The tempestuousness of the night had crowded Overschie with strangers, and most of the cabarets or ale-houses were filled with guests. We were repulsed from two houses, notwithstanding all our endeavours to excite the avarice or the humanity of the landlords: and it added to our chagrin, that the boors, who sat smoking their pipes over a comfortable turf fire, seemed to enjoy with great satisfaction our distress. At length we were received into a miserable cabin; and fortunately procured an apartment for ourselves. But there was no fire-place in it, and the rain descended, and the wind entered through various chinks. Coffee and gin were the only refreshments which the house afforded, and neither of these very excellent in their kind. A damp bed completed the sum of our misfortunes, and after a sleepless night, we set off early in the morning in a voiture for the Hague.
Every-where from Overschie to Delft, and from thence to the Hague, the destruction of the preceding evening met the eye. Trees, the growth of an age, were torn up by the roots, houses thrown down, and others totally unroofed. The country for many miles was under water, owing to the overflowing of the canals; and at Delft the streets were covered with the wreck of public and private buildings. The old church, in which national gratitude has erected monuments to the memory of Admiral Van Trump and Peter Heyne, was unroofed, and many chimneys of the Military Institute, a modern erection, were blown down. Not a private house that I could perceive had escaped without some damage to its windows or roof; and the destruction had been particularly severe among the flight fantastic temples and summer-houses which adorn the gardens of the Dutch. The overthrow of temples and statues might afflict their possessors, but I regretted the fruit and forest trees that were destroyed: the ingenuity of man could repair the one, but time only re-establish the other.
The great character which the Hague has obtained for the elegance of its buildings, and the delightfulness of its situation, made me so impatient to visit it, particularly as I had recommendations to persons every way qualified to shew its beauties, that I abridged the stay I intended to make in Rotterdam some days, and passed through Delft, scarcely bestowing an hour on its curiosities.
From Delft to the Hague the road is magnificently grand. Notwithstanding the advanced period of the season, and the recent storm, the prospects and road are extremely delightful. It is of a sufficient breadth to admit four or five carriages abreast, shaded on both sides by lofty rows of trees, kept in excellent repair, and so level that not the least inequality of ground is to be perceived. The country, though the fact is otherwise, appears, from the manner in which the trees are planted, to be excellently stocked with wood; and the summer-retreats of the opulent, which are thickly scattered over the country, diversify the scene. On one side of the road flows the clear and tranquil canal, on which boats of business or pleasure continually pass and repass, giving an inconceivable interest to the landscape. Directly before him the lofty edifices of the Hague raise the expectations of the traveller, and the wood, as it is emphatically called, on the right of the town, presents a scene of forest grandeur.
We alighted at the Parliament of England, a respectable hotel in the Hague, which, before the interruption of our intercourse with Holland, was much frequented by British families of distinction. The accommodations here are good, and the master and servants politely attentive, though not equal to what fame reports of them. The trade of innkeepers has declined in the same proportion as the other branches of Dutch commerce; and therefore the solution is easy, why the hotel is inferior to the reputation which it bears. The person who formerly conducted the Parliament of England, with so much honour to himself and satisfaction to his guests, was an Englishman; but he retired from business shortly after the expulsion of the stadtholder, and the consequent removal of British subjects from the Hague. His successor, with every possible disposition to gratify those who frequent his house, has not the ability; for, alas! the Hague is no longer the resort of the wealthy and luxurious from all parts of Europe, and by such guests alone is an inn to be maintained in splendour. I conjectured from the name of the hotel, and its having been much frequented by persons of the British nation, that I should find some one who could speak English, but I was disappointed, and to add to my mortification, the waiters speak French most barbarously.
Geographers and travellers have persisted in calling the Hague a village, because it is not surrounded with walls or fortifications, which are necessary in their opinions to constitute a town or a city; but probably it is indebted for this humble appellation to the signification of its name in the Dutch language, s' Graven Haag, or the Count's Hedge, it forming some centuries ago a part of the domains of the counts of Holland. I will not dispute or vindicate the propriety of a term which is of so little consequence to settle.Village or town, the Hague is a place of wonderful magnificence; The Voorhout, which I deem the principal street, contains many elegant and classical buildings, in the purest style of architectures and none of the monstrous, unnatural defects are to be perceived, which distinguish the mercantile erections of Rotterdam. Walking in the mall, which is in the middle of this street, I could have conceived myself to be in one of the most elegant towns of Italy, but for the murky atmosphere, surcharged with foggy vapours, which hung over my head, and never permitted one genial ray of the sun to bless me with its warmth; and the grotesque figures of Dutch milk-maids, fish-carriers, &c. bawling most inharmoniously their various commodities to sell. In this street the house of the prince of Wielburgh, who is allied to the stadtholder's family, and that of the ambassador of the French republic, which was formerly the residence of the British minister, are buildings of uncommon elegance; but, either from a want of taste, or a love of simplicity, I preferred the house which belongs to the head of the Bentinck family in Holland. On the abolition of the ancient constitution of the United Provinces, this gentleman was confined in prison upwards of two years, and his property sequestrated; he is at present at liberty, and his estates have been restored.
The Vyverburg is the next street which claims the attention of a stranger. It is in the form of an oblong square, with spacious walks shaded with trees, and a broad canal, or rather bason of water. The streets of the Hague are paved with a species of light-coloured bricks, which have a gay appearance; and these join so closely together, that no interstices are to be perceived which can harbour dirt. Hence the streets are kept extremely clean; and in the worst weather a person may walk in them with little inconvenience.
I have mentioned the Vyverburg and the Voorhout as the streets in the Hague to which I assign the pre-eminence; but there are many of great elegance I cannot particularise, which fully entitle this magnificent village to the high reputation for the splendour of its buildings which it enjoys. These are decorated with trees, bridges of tasteful construction, and canals; and the meanest of them possesses the recommendation of extreme cleanness. Before the conquest of Holland by the French, and the changes which succeeded that event, the houses of the nobility and persons of rank were ornamented with the armorial ensigns of their families; but such remnants of chivalry and nobility are no longer permitted to be exhibited; and where their removal would have deformed the building, the shields remain despoiled of their quarterings. The arms which are affixed to the houses where the deputies of the states formerly resided, being the armorial distinctions of the difFerent provinces, are not subject to this ordinance, and consequently remain: an exception also is to be seen at the Danish minister's house, where the arms of his master are so painted as to remind me of those exhibitions of heraldry which many of the public-houses of London display; but if the ambassador, in departing from general usage, meant only to assert the prerogatives of his character, his wooden escutcheon and its wretched blazonry are honourable to him.
The palace of the stadtholder, now the national palace, in which the members of the Batavian directory reside, and the two chambers of representatives hold their meetings, is chiefly formed of old buildings, erected at different periods, and without any regularity of design. They are surrounded; by a canal, over which are drawbridges, and their external appearance is rather pleasing. The exiled prince intended to have built a new palace, and shortly after the conclusion of the American war, one side of a quadrangle was erected of tolerable architecture. But the troubles which quickly followed in Holland, prevented the completion of this plan; and at present there is not any probability that the design will be carried into execution. In the new building, the first chamber of representatives hold their sittings. The hall appropriated to their use was the Stadtholder's concert room, and it is furnished in a manner worthy of the legislature of a wealthy nation. The seats of the members are covered with green baize, and rise amphitheatrically, with desks for the implements of writing. In the centre, on an elevated platform covered with a rich carpet, is the president's chair, of crimson velvet, adorned with the hat, the fasces, and other emblems of freedom. At each end of the hall are galleries for the accommodation of spectators, and no money is permitted to be taken for admittance. I was present at a debate, which excited more than usual interest at the Hague. The subject under consideration was, whether corn and other articles of provision would be allowed to be exported from the republic in neutral vessels to Great Britain. This restriction was proposed by the party most hostile to England, and carried by a large majority. But the debate was conducted with the utmost temperance and moderation, and I was assured the members rarely indulged in virulent abuse of the British nation or government. The stadtholder is already consigned to contemptuous oblivion, or if his name is mentioned in their debates, he is spoken of with frigid indifference. This is undoubtedly the wisest procedure, for the abdicated prince certainly has many partisans warmly attached to his cause, whose indignation it would be dangerous to excite, and difficult to allay.
In a square near the palace is the sixth tree of liberty, as I was informed, which the municipality of the Hague have fruitlessly planted in honour of the goddess of freedom. It was dead, but whether of a natural or a violent death I could not determine; the latter seemed probable, for some envious hand had lopped off its branches, and disfigured its bark. What nymph could survive a profanation so cruel? I did not learn that any person had been punished for this indignity to the symbol of national freedom, nor were there any indications that another would be speedily planted.
In the fish market, near the great church, attracted by the offals of the place, which furnish them with a ready and plentiful sustenance and protected by the prejudices of the people in their favour, are to be seen a number of storks most familiarly tame. This bird is the peculiar protegée of republics, and if popular opinion is to be believed, the attachment it bears to liberty will not permit it to inhabit the dominions of a monarch. I will not vouch for the truth of this opinion; but certain it is, that the plumed favourite of the republic has for ages enjoyed the respect and protection of mankind. Plutarch[1] informs us, that in such honour storks were held in Thessaly, that the punishment of exile was denounced against the man who should unfortunately destroy one of these sacred birds; and the Greek language has a word expressive of filial gratitude (αντιπε λαργειν(?)), which, literally translated, signifies to act like a stork. The veneration with which Greece regarded this bird was adopted by the Roman commonwealth. The virtuous Antoninus stamped on the reverse of a medal which bore his head the image of a stork, and beneath the word pietas was inscribed; and a poet who lashed the worst profligacy of a debauched age styles it, "Pietaticultrix, gracilipes, crotalistria." The attention of this bird to its aged parents, in defending them against attack, and furnishing them with food, is a fact too well established to be doubted; but I cannot bear testimony to the elegance of its form, or the harmony of its voice. Its legs are long, and, though admirably fitted for its modes of life, extremely disproportionate to the size of its body; and the only sounds which I heard it emit were piercing and dissonant screams. I, however, regard the stork with favour, and am pleased with the prejudice which protects the pia avis of Greece and Rome.
At the distance of a mile from the Hague, is the house in the wood; a place of retirement which belonged to the stadtholder, but is now converted into a receptacle for the national cabinet of pictures, except a suite of apartments which are occupied by the keeper of a tavern of no very decent character. It reflects little credit on those who are charged with the care of the national domains, and from their functions must in some measure be considered as the guardians of public morals, that they permit a brothel to be established within the sacred precincts of a national palace. Yet, to the dishonour of the Batavian government, such is the purpose to which a part of the house in the wood is infamously prostituted.
On the confiscation of the property of the exiled stadtholder, the Dutch government, with laudable zeal for the encouragement of the polite arts, formed his collection of pictures, then esteemed one of the most valuable in Europe, into a national gallery, and set apart an annual sum for the augmentation of this cabinet by purchase. A noble suite of apartments in the house in the wood was provided for their reception, and a director of taste and genius, with proper assistants, appointed to superintend this national collection.
To the politeness of Mr. J. G. Waldorp, the keeper of this cabinet, a person of great intelligence and merit, I am highly indebted for the distinguished attention which at various times he shewed me. He is himself a painter of merit, and therefore qualified to judge critically of the performances of others; far though an amateur may have the highest possible relish for this art, it is probable beauties will escape him, which a painter alone can discover and appreciate.
The first chamber of this collection is allotted to pictures and portraits illustrative of the history of the United Provinces, and contains a succession of the princes of Orange; from William the First to William the Third.
William I. prince of Orange, and Maurice, by Miervelt; Frederic-Henry, and William II. by Hondhorn; and Frederic-Henry by Palamedes; are portraits of uncommon merit: those of Maurice and his brother William I. are perhaps the best.
The portrait of M. de Ruyter, by Ferdinand Bol, cannot be sufficiently admired; and the same praise is due to Admiral Van Ness and his wife, two exquisite pictures by B.Vander Helst.
The Duke of Alva, by D. Barns, is a most characteristic likeness of that cruel man. He is painted in armour, and every feature bears marks of a ferocious and sanguinary disposition. He is the general of an army of executioners, deliberating in cold blood the depopulation of provinces, the sack of towns, and the massacre of defenceless women and children. It is impossible to look at this portrait without feeling an emotion of involuntary horror; and the heart turns with sickness from this faithful representation of a human monster.
The virtuous republican Barneveldt, an enlightened statesman, and strenuous defender of Dutch freedom, by Paul Moreelse, affords the spectator some relief after the contemplation of the fiendlike Spaniard.
But the picture of most excellence is the candle-light portrait of William III. of England, by Schalken. It was the custom of this artist to place his subject and a candle in a dark room, and looking through a small hole, he painted by day-light what he saw in the dark apartment. Tradition relates, that when he drew William, the tallow of the candle ran down upon the king's fingers, to the great discomposure of the phlegmatic monarch. The effect of the candle-light is wonderfully executed, but there is a stiffness in the portrait which displeases, though it is undoubtedly a master-piece in that line of painting.
I shall only further notice in this apartment an allegorical painting of John de Wit, as a goose defending her eggs, to signify his care of the republic. Human energy and passions are well described in this picture; and it is no inferior praise to say, that it forcibly reminded me of the Vulture of an English artist of the highest merit[2], which was exhibited last year at the Royal Academy.
As the liberality of the Dutch government has not yet furnished catalogues for the use of strangers who visit this national collection, I shall hold myself excusable if I continue briefly to notice the principal ornaments of this cabinet.
In the second chamber, the Massacre of the Innocents, by Cornelius Van Haarlem, possesses many terrific beauties. Mary Magdalenes, by Carlo Maratti and Titian, are paintings of extraordinary worth; but the beautiful Magdalene by Corregio is a picture of superior excellence. Penitence and hope are most divinely blended in the countenance of the reclaimed female.
An ecce homo, by Gasper de Crayer, may safely be praised, when it is told that Rubens could admire the picture, and envy the artist. The agony of the countenance of Jesus is finely expressed.
Cleopatra with an asp at her breast, by Guido; St. John the Baptist, a youth, by M. Coxie; and Venus and Adonis, by Willebors; are pieces of great merit: but from these, and a Venus couchant, with Cupid near her, by the Chavelier Vander Werf, the spectator turns with little reluctance to the Triumph of Love, by Flink. The Venus of this piece is most voluptuously beautiful, and nothing is left for the imagination of the beholder to supply.
"Quare nuda Venus nudi pinguntur amores?"
A St. Peter, in Gobelin tapestry, possesses sufficient excellence to secure it an honourable place in this apartment, though expressly against the spirit of the institution. It bears a great resemblance to the ingenious exhibitions at Hanover-square.
The most striking pieces in the third chamber, are four paintings of dead game, by Hondekoeter, and one by Wenix. The pictures of the former enjoy a deserved reputation, but the colouring of Wenix is more brilliant. The plumage of his dead pheasant is a perfect imitation of that beautiful bird, nor are his animals less to be praised for their exquisite correctness. A quack vending his medicines, by Jan Steen, and a surgeon's shop, by J. M. Sorg, are two comic pieces of great humour, and good execution.
The cieling of the fourth apartment is painted by Lairesse, an artist of whom the Dutch nation has reason to be proud; and four stories from Ovid, by the same hand, ornament as many compartments of the room. T. M. Torquatus putting his son to death, by F. Bol: the decapitated trunk and severed head are drawn in a masterly manner. The departure of Æneas from Carthage, by the same. Two landscapes by Glauber. Twelve small pictures describing the history of Claudius Civilis; a noble Batavian, according to the relation of Tacitus; who for some time gallantly defended the independence of his country against the encroachments of imperial Rome, are from the pencil of Otto Venius, and of such excellence, that the great Lord Bolingbroke, a man whose judgment in whatever relates to the elegant arts few will be inclined to suspect, offered to purchase them at the extraordinary price of ten thousand pounds.
The anti-chamber to the small audience-room, or Chinese apartment, contains, with many which I shall omit, the Holy Family, by Rubens; Mary Magdalerte, by Vandyke; the Annunciation; by Lange Jan; the Birth of Venus by Jordaans; and the four seasons of the year by the same. The figure of winter as an old woman is admirably depicted; and the effect of fire-light exquisitely managed.The great hall of audience is an octagonal building, erected by Amelia of Solms, in honour of her husband Frederic-Henry, and contains a series of paintings, admirably executed, descriptive of his life.
The Apotheosis of Frederk-Henry, by Jordaans, is a picture of prodigious size, and extraordinary merit, in which the artist has introduced a portrait of himself. But the representation of Time destroying all things, by the same painter, exhibits more beauties.
The other artists who have contributed to decorate this apartment, are Rubens, Vanderwerf, Du Buay, Soutman, Van Fulden, &c.
In the time of the stadtholder, this apartment was often used as a concert-room, and when the Orange family dined in public, the hall of audience was the scene of their repasts. Thither the good Dutchman repaired to view his sovereign, not assisting; at deliberations of state, or employed in the exercise of supreme magistracy, but enjoying the pleasures, the humble pleasures, of a luxuriously-furnished table.In the common eating-room are three grey paintings, in imitation of basso-relievo, by J. de Wit. They represent Atalanta and Meleager, the four seasons of the year, and Venus and Adonis; and are so admirably executed as at a very short distance to deceive the most critical eye. They appear so to stand out from the wall, that the spectator imagines he could brush the dust from the projecting figures; nor are the designs of these pictures less elegant than the deception is happily managed[3]. In this apartment is shewn an ancient ball of wood, into which a number of nails were driven by the first Dutch confederates who assembled to rescue their country from the tyranny of Philip II.; and the cup is also preserved out of which these patriots drank to the success of their holy cause. Here is a cannon of gold and silver, enriched with diamonds, which was given by a dey of Algiers, as a proof of his esteem, or fear, to Admiral de Ruyter; and a park of artillery in miniature, which was made for the instruction of the stadtholder's sons in the art of war.
The furniture of this house, which was sumptuous, as well as of the other palaces which belonged to the stadtholder, was confiscated by the French, and sold for their use, under pretext that the republic had declared war against the Prince of Orange personally. A similar fate would have attended his magnificent collection of pictures, but the Dutch government wisely redeemed this treasure, and, in imitation of their sister republic, founded a national gallery. Since its foundation in ninety-seven, to November, eighteen hundred, three thousand one hundred and twenty tickets of admission only had been issued; a proof that much taste for the fine arts does not exist in Holland, or that few strangers have resorted to the Hague. The price of admission is about one shilling and sixpence, and the money so collected assists to defray the expences of the institution.
In this house, as elsewhere, the arms of the Orange family are carefully obliterated, and the portraits of the stadtholder, his father, his princess, and their children, are dispossessed of their places. A small equestrian figure in bronze of Frederic the Great, the gift of that king to his niece the Princess of Orange, maintains its place, perhaps equally through respect to the character of that illustrious prince, and fear of offending the powerful court of Berlin. But the portraits of George II. and Caroline, of Ann their daughter, the mother of the stadtholder, and of various royal personages of a more recent date, are consigned to the lumber-room of the palace, that the eye of the republican amateur may not be offended by their presence, or the Orangist gratified by delineations of the objects of his attachment. As the portraits of the most renowned princes of the house of Orange are permitted to remain, the absence of the modern likenesses can occasion the unprejudiced spectator but little regret, unless indeed he considers their removal as an insult to fallen grandeur.
Great care is taken of the gardens belonging to the House in the Wood, at the expence of the nation, and in fine weather they are resorted to from the Hague, as a promenade somewhat in the style of our parks. What attractions they possess when summer draws forth the beauties of vegetation, I am not competent from the lateness of the season to pronounce; but undoubtedly they are laid out in the worst style of horticulture. Here are stagnated canals in abundance, with puerile bridges thrown over them, trees bent and cut into fantastic shapes, and flower-beds of a thousand forms. But every thing is unnatural and artificial. The canal meanders without grace, and trees stunted in their growth exhibit nothing but specimens of deformity. The luxuriance of Nature smiles not here, and her operations are carefully limited with more than mathematical severity. It is a fault of less consequence certainly than those which I have noticed, but nevertheless of considerable magnitude, that the garden-walks here are strewn with sand, and a soft species of sea-shell, which soon pulverises, instead of gravel. These walks offend the eye, and are disagreeable to the feet: in wet weather I would imagine they acquire the consistency of mortar.