The Youthful Wanderer Part 10

Dutch and German are two entirely different languages. Dutch print in the newspapers does, however, not look so perfectly strange, as the conversation sounds to the ear.

After arriving at Antwerp I was soon found by a porter who conducted me to a German Hotel. How social and hospitable these Germans are--and, I must add, Europeans in general. _Die "Deutsche Wirthschaft"_ (German Hotel) occupied quite a small building, which presented a very ordinary appearance on the outside, but I shall never forget that carpeted bar-room, the costly furniture of the parlor, and the accommodating landlady which we found there. Taste and comfort are always consulted, even where the greatest simplicity prevails.

Antwerp

is one of the most Catholic cities (some say the most Catholic city) in the world. Its streets are filled with images of the Virgin and Child, the Savior and the Cross. These stand at the corners of the crossings, or preside over the street lamps. On one of its church towers, over a gas light, is represented a candle stick with the rays emanating from its light. On each side, is a little cherub--one has a cross and the other an anchor. Over them, stand the mystical letters "IHS," the cross being combined with the H after the fashion of a monogram. Beneath is the following inscription:

GELOOFD ZY JESUS CHRISTUS IN HET ALLERHEYLIGSTE SACRAMENT.

In another part of the city I found a representation of the crucifixion, the cross upon which Christ is nailed being about 20 feet high. Effigies of two women in oriental costume stand on either side of it.

In Antwerp, as in Brussels, the spirit of progress: has seized the leading circles, and the hand of improvement has commenced tearing down her ancient houses and building new streets upon the modern plan and style of architecture. One of the most handsome avenues in the world, being from 290 to 350 feet in width, and about two miles long, runs through the very heart of this city. It has several moderate angles, which render it convenient to a.s.sign different names to different sections of it. Avenue du Commerce reaches from the northern end of the city to its magnificent squares in the center, known as Place de la Commune and Place de la Victoire. Here begins Avenue des Arts, which, with Avenue de l'Industrie, leads to the southern confines of the city. These avenues consist of three parallel roadways with two broad foot-pavements between them, and wide pavements at the sides. Let us cross this avenue from one side to the other, and estimate the width of its different parts. First we cross a broad payement of perhaps 30 feet; then a roadway of about 50 feet; next a foot-pavement lined by thick rows of trees whose branches form an arch over it; then the central roadway, perhaps 150 feet wide; and afterwards, another foot-pavement, a roadway and the pavement on the other side, corresponding with those already mentioned. The great square in the center of the city occupies about 6 acres. In this section of Antwerp, nearly all the old buildings have been torn down and new ones erected during the last few years; and in many other sections the same work of widening streets and erecting new buildings in place of the old, is being done with reckless haste. It seems as if old houses were regarded as a disgrace to the city. That few images are to be seen in the new sections of the city, is a sure sign that commerce, art and industry (see the names of three avenues which run through this city) have sounded the tocsin of revolution, and that the ancient religion with its emblems, forms and ceremonies, is yielding to the spirit of modern civilization and refinement, as many other cities of Europe have already done.

It is a remarkable fact, that as Catholicism sinks in Continental Europe, its communicants will not stop to join Prodestantism, but go strait over to Rationalism. France, for example, has had these two extreme elements fighting each other for the ascendency, for a long time, and no middle-road sentiment ever gained a foothold. Prodestant Europe will cling to the church the longest, and, do we not already see the indications very planely that after all Europe has turned rationalistic, America will continue to cherish the church and built her a Rome for future generations to bless as the fostering mother of modern Christianity?

Notre Dame Cathedral.

The Cathedral is the most elegant Gothic Church in Belgium, and one of the most famous in the world. Some parts of it date from the 13th and others from the 16th centuries. The spire (403 feet in height) is a proud rival of that on the Cathedral of Strasbourg, and its chimes of 99 bells are deservedly famous. Within the church, are some of the most celebrated paintings of Rubens. Among them are "Descent from the Cross," (considered his master piece), "Elevation of the Cross," "a.s.sumption" and "Resurrection." The interior of this church is ornamented with master paintings and fine works of art in lavish profusion. The cathedral is free in the morning, but at noon the paintings of Rubens are unveiled, and a fee of 1 fr. is charged for admission. There were about 35 other tourists there during the afternoon that I visited it.

The Church of St. Jaques contains the tomb of Rubens, and many pictures, a number of them veiled and shown only for a fee.

The Museum.

The museum contains some of the best (most natural) paintings in Europe.

The pencil of Rubens has imitated nature so perfectly that the eye almost fails to detect a flaw in the execution. The spectator may know that he only stands before a flat surface of paper daubed with paint; but his soul will be stirred, his pulse begins to beat faster and his imagination runs away with him, as he looks at such masterly executions of a skillful hand as is the "Dead Jesus" and some others in this museum. The congealed blood in his side, upon his hands and on his head, with the tears of Joseph and Mary and others, so natural that one mistakes the pictures for the reality, create feelings in the beholder such as he seldom experiences elsewhere, even in Europe. He first mourns for the dead and pities the afflicted; then he recovers himself again, and thanks the artist for having given him a key to the thoughts and feelings which he himself must have cherished while executing this painting. It is said, that when Roubiliac was erecting the Nightingale monument in Westminster Abbey, described on page 86, "he was found one day by Gayfere, the Abbey mason, standing with his arms folded, and his looks fixed on one of the knightly figures which support the canopy over the statue of Sir Francis Vere; as Gayfere approached, the enthusiastic Frenchman laid his hand on his arm, pointed to the figure, and said in a whisper, 'Hush! hush! he vil speak presently.'" Can we conceive that Rubens painted the "Dead Jesus" without sobs and tears?

I had seen acres of paintings in the Kensington Museum in London, in the Louvre in Paris and in Palais de Versailles; but it was reserved for me to see the paintings of Rubens and of Van Dyck last, so that I might know their merit.

Near the entrance of the Museum, stands a fine monument and statue to the honor and memory of

ANTONIO VAN DYCK P.

CIC.ICCCC.LVI.

No one would wish to leave Antwerp without having seen the "gilded halls"

by the river side, containing some of the most brilliant apartments in existence.

Antwerp has a population of about 120,000 inhabitants, and is the chief sea-port of Belgium. The Scaut Fleuve (River Scheldt) is from a quarter to a third of a mile wide at Antwerp.

Chapter XI.

Holland.

Early on Tuesday morning (August 10th) I started on "a run through Holland."

The Meuse and the Rhine form numerous mouths, and their deltas are low and marshy. A most magnificent bridge crosses these, which is several (three?) miles in length. Fourteen immense iron arches are required to span one of the mouths of the Rhine. Much of the land is lower than the ocean, and a great conflict is waged between the Hollanders and the Sea, for the possession of the land. It is a strange sight to see vessels sail along the embankments higher than the chimney tops of the houses along the sh.o.r.e! Watchmen are stationed along these embankments and when the ocean breaks a leak, they will ring the alarm bells and every body will arm himself with a spade or shovel and run to the sea-sh.o.r.e to battle with the water. Thus have these people defended their property against the encroachments of the sea for many centuries.

A great part of Holland is as level as the ocean, and there are neither fences nor hedges to be seen. But ditches surround every little field and lot, and innumerable wind-mills pump the water that gathers into these ditches, up into ca.n.a.ls, which intersect the country like a net-work, and conduct the water to the sea. Extensive meadows and rich pasture land support large, herds of fine cattle and sheep, which const.i.tute the wealth of Flemish industry.

These Hollanders have some very curious styles of dress, and, like the Swiss, still wear their ancient costumes, even after the rest of Europe have adopted the fashions of Paris. In the larger towns and cities, however, the tide of revolution has set in and the young belles and beaux have commenced to "sail in Paris styles." A few years more, and the traditional costumes of the Flanders will have disappeared altogether.

The men are very partial to "burnsides" and wear their hair pretty long, combed wet and stroked down so as to look smooth and glossy. The old women, in place of ear-rings, wear ornaments in the form of immense spirals suspended from the ends of half of a bra.s.s hoop that pa.s.ses around their heads below their white caps. These hang down over the cheeks and are almost as long as their faces. Some of the young ladies coming in from the rural districts, carry a head rigging--I do not know what else to call it, for it is neither bonnet, hat, nor cap, nor any combination of these; but it is an apparatus for the head that baffles description, and which, for want of a better name, we must call a _tremendous thing_, both in magnitude and in design! I have seen women with straw hats that must have been well nigh a yard in diameter! In The Hague, I saw little girls, however, (from 6 to 12 or 15 years of age) that were dressed as tidily and looked as fair and as sweet as any of our American school-girls.

Public Highways.

In Holland, these are _highways_ in fact as well as in name. They run in perfectly strait lines through the country, are about a yard higher than the meadows at their sides, and are lined by thick rows of willow-trees.

They are turnpiked of course, as are all the roads in civilized Europe.

From these roads the traveler has always the same field of vision--a circle around him that is about 8 to 5 miles in diameter. Towering spires may be seen in all directions. I visited Dordrecht, Rotterdam, The Hague, Amsterdam, Utrecht, Arnheim and intermediate places.

The Hague,

In Dutch 'S Gravenhage or 'S Hage, in French La Haye, is the capital of Holland as well as one of its finest towns. "It was originally a hunting seat of the Counts of Holland (whence its name, 'S Graven Hage, 'the Count's enclosure')."--_Hurd and Houghton's Satchel Guide to Europe_.

The supreme attraction, is the museum rich im the best paintings of the Dutch school. "Here is Paul Potter's world renowned 'Bull,' alone worth, a trip to Holland to see." This famous picture represents a rural scene. A ram, a ewe, a lamb, a bull and a cow are gathered together under an old tree, and the old farmer, standing somehow behind the tree, taking a look at them. It is so perfectly true to nature that one can hardly persuade himself that the living animals are not before him. The pictures known as Rembrandt's "School of Anatomy" are also as deservedly famous. What ever the criticism of one who is no artist may be worth, it is my opinion that Rubens's paintings and some of those in this museum, are the truest to nature of all that I have seen in Europe. Raphael's paintings in Rome are shady in comparison to those of the Dutch school.

Tuesday, August 10th, 4:21 p.m. Leave The Hague for Amsterdam, where I arrived at 7:30 p.m., having pa.s.sed Haarlem at 6:45 p.m. At 8 o'clock, as I sat on the platform of the Oosterspoorweg Station, the bells of three different towers commenced simultaneously to chime their peals and that too with mathematical precision. The exactness with which the clocks in the clock-towers of Europe keep time is remarkable; and the music of the pealing bells is beautiful, when numbers of them chime at the same time.

At Amsterdam I was asked for my pa.s.sport, I told the "blue coats" that I had it in my satchel, "You should have it with you," said the German-speaking official. I replied that I had not been aware of that; and as I had not been asked for it either in England, France or Belgium, I had placed it into my satchel, so as not to wear it out in my pockets. I sent the porter to fetch my satchel, took the pa.s.sport from it, and, after having shown it to the officials, placed it into my pocket again, so that I might have it ready in any emergency. These officers were very accommodating to me afterwards, however, during the time that I waited for the next train for Utrecht. After having had quite a social chat with them, I asked them what they would have done with me if I could not have produced them a pa.s.sport from the government of my country. "Well," said one of them, "we would have been obliged to subject you to an examination, and if your answers would have satisfied the committee, you would have been allowed to pa.s.s on."

Cloak-Rooms.

In connection with the railway stations, wherever I traveled in Europe, there are "cloak-rooms," in which the baggage of the travelers is stored away. It costs 1 to 2 cents to have a package, parcel, umbrella or satchel deposited into one of these, and then the depositor receives a receipt or check for his luggage, which he must present when he wishes to have it again. But Holland offers none of these excellent accommodations, else I would have spent a day more among these Flanders. When I came to Amsterdam, I was immediately a.s.sailed by a herd of porters, each anxious to take my satchel into charge. It had been my rule to carry it to the cloak-room myself, but here I could not find one! After a vehement struggle with the fierce porters, one of them who could say "Yes," in German, and who nodded his head when I asked him whether he would take it to a cloak-room, took it and carried it into the station, a distance of about fifty feet. But they kept no cloak-room as I observed when it was not placed into a special apartment for the purpose. It did not seem homelike at all to me, so I asked the agent whether he would give me a receipt for it. "Yes, if you satisfy the porter, I will," he answered.

This reply made me more tired of Amsterdam than anything else, for, thought I, if the agent of the would-be "cloak-room" is a party to such a set of fellows, I must indeed have fallen into pretty bad company. I offered the porter 4 cents, which was twice as much as it cost me in other cities to have my satchel cared for a whole day, but he refused to take it. Being unwilling to become the victim of their extortions, I took my satchel and carried it (almost three fourths of a mile) through town to the Oosterspoorweg on the other side of the city. There I obtained good accommodations. I had asked for lodging while coming through the city, but could not suit myself; so I decided to start that evening with the first train for Utrecht. How different was the social atmosphere of the Oosterspoorweg Station! Not only were the porters and the officers civil, but there was an excellent restaurant connected with it, and the waiting-girls of the coffee-room were tidily dressed in French costume, spoke German, and were social, polite and accommodating.

At 9:30, I left by train for Utrecht, which I reached at 10:35 p.m. The station was a new and s.p.a.cious one and the accommodations were again like those which I had been accustomed to, before I saw Holland; so I felt quite at home again.