Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver Skates

by Mary Mapes Dodge

  XXVII

  THE MERCHANT PRINCE, AND THE SISTER-PRINCESS

  Well might Peter feel that his sister's house was like an enchantedcastle. Large and elegant as it was, a spell of quiet hung over it. Thevery lion crouching at its gate seemed to have been turned into stonethrough magic. Within, it was guarded by genii, in the shape ofred-faced servants, who sprang silently forth at the summons of bell orknocker. There was a cat, also, who appeared as knowing as anyPuss-in-Boots; and a brass gnome in the hall whose business it was tostand with outstretched arms ready to receive sticks and umbrellas. Safewithin the walls bloomed a Garden of Delight, where the flowers firmlybelieved it was summer, and a sparkling fountain was laughing merrily toitself because Jack Frost could not find it. There was a SleepingBeauty, too, just at the time of the boys' arrival; but when Peter, likea true prince, flew lightly up the stairs, and kissed her eyelids, theenchantment was broken. The princess became his own good sister, and thefairy castle just one of the finest, most comfortable houses of theHague.

  As may well be believed, the boys received the heartiest of welcomes.After they had conversed a while with their lively hostess, one of thegenii summoned them to a grand repast in a red-curtained room, wherefloor and ceiling shone like polished ivory, and the mirrors suddenlyblossomed into rosy-cheeked boys as far as the eye could reach.

  They had caviare now, and salmagundi, and sausage and cheese, besidessalad and fruit and biscuit and cake. How the boys could partake of sucha medley was a mystery to Ben; for the salad was sour, and the cake wassweet; the fruit was dainty, and the salmagundi heavy with onions andfish. But, while he was wondering, he made a hearty meal, and was soonabsorbed in deciding which he really preferred, the coffee or theanisette cordial. It was delightful, too--this taking one's food fromdishes of frosted silver and liqueur glasses from which Titania herselfmight have sipped. The young gentleman afterward wrote to his motherthat pretty and choice as things were at home, he had never known whatcut-glass, china and silver services were until he visited the Hague.

  Of course Peter's sister soon heard of all the boys' adventures. Howthey had skated over forty miles and seen rare sights on the way; howthey had lost their purse and found it again. How one of the party hadfallen and given them an excuse for a grand sail in an ice-boat; howabove all, they had caught a robber, and so for a second time savedtheir slippery purse.

  "And now, Peter," said the lady, when the story was finished, "you mustwrite at once to tell the good people of Broek that your adventures havereached their height, that you and your fellow-travelers have all beentaken prisoners."

  The boys looked startled.

  "Indeed, I shall do no such thing," laughed Peter; "we must leaveto-morrow at noon."

  But the sister had already decided differently, and a Holland lady isnot to be easily turned from her purpose. In short, she held forth suchstrong temptations, and was so bright and cheerful, and said so manycoaxing and unanswerable things, both in English and Dutch, that theboys were all delighted when it was settled that they should remain atthe Hague for at least two days.

  Next the grand skating-race was talked over; Mevrouw van Gend gladlypromised to be present on the occasion--"I shall witness your triumph,Peter," she said, "for you are the fastest skater I ever knew."

  Peter blushed and gave a slight cough, as Carl answered for him.

  "Ah, mevrouw, he is swift, but all the Broek boys are fine skaters--eventhe rag-pickers"--and he thought bitterly of poor Hans.

  The lady laughed. "That will make the race all the more exciting," shesaid--"but I shall wish each of you to be the winner."

  At this moment her husband Mynheer van Gend came in, and the enchantmentfalling upon the boys was complete.

  The invisible fairies of the household at once clustered about themwhispering that Jasper van Gend had a heart as young and fresh as theirown, and if he loved anything in this world more than industry, it wassunshine and frolic. They hinted also something about his having a heartfull of love and a head full of wisdom, and finally gave the boys tounderstand that when Mynheer said a thing he meant it.

  Therefore his frank "Well now, this is pleasant," as he shook hands withthem all, made the boys feel quite at home and as happy as squirrels.

  There were fine paintings in the drawing-room and exquisite statuary,and portfolios filled with rare Dutch engravings; besides manybeautiful and curious things from China and Japan. The boys felt that itwould require a month to examine all the treasures of the apartment.

  Ben noticed with pleasure English books lying upon the table. He sawalso over the carved, upright piano, life-sized portraits of William ofOrange and his English queen, a sight that, for a time, brought Englandand Holland side by side in his heart. William and Mary have left a haloround the English throne to this day, he the truest patriot that everserved an adopted country, she the noblest wife that ever sat upon aBritish throne, up to the time of Victoria and Albert the Good. As Benlooked at the pictures, he remembered accounts he had read of KingWilliam's visit to the Hague in the winter of 1691. He who sang theBattle of Ivry had not yet told the glowing story of that day, but Benknew enough of it, to fancy that he could almost hear the shouts of thedelighted populace as he looked from the portraits to the street, whichat this moment was aglow with a bonfire, kindled in a neighboringsquare.

  That royal visit was one never to be forgotten. For two years William ofOrange had been monarch of a foreign land, his head working faithfullyfor England, but his whole heart yearning for Holland. Now when hesought its shores once more, the entire nation bade him welcome.Multitudes flocked to the Hague to meet him--"many thousands camesliding or skating along the frozen canals from Amsterdam, Rotterdam,Leyden, Haarlem, Delft."[24] All day long the festivities of the capitalwere kept up, the streets were gorgeous with banners, evergreen arches,trophies, and mottoes of welcome and emblems of industry. William sawthe deeds of his ancestors and scenes of his own past life depicted onbanners and tapestries along the streets. At night, superb fireworkswere displayed upon the ice. Its glassy surface was like a mirror.Sparkling fountains of light sprang up from below to meet the glitteringcascades leaping upon it. Then a feathery fire of crimson and greenshook millions of rubies and emeralds, into the ruddy depths of theice--and all this time the people were shouting--God bless William ofOrange--long live the King! They were half mad with joy and enthusiasm.William their own prince, their stadtholder, had become the ruler ofthree kingdoms; he had been victorious in council and in war, and now inhis hour of greatest triumph, had come as a simple guest to visit them.The king heard their shouts with a beating heart. It is a great thing tobe beloved by one's country. His English courtiers complimented him uponhis reception. "Yes," said he, "but the shouting is nothing to what itwould have been if Mary had been with me!"

  [Footnote 24: Macaulay's History of England.]

  While Ben was looking at the portraits, Mynheer van Gend was giving theboys an account of a recent visit to Antwerp. As it was the birthplaceof Quentin Matsys the blacksmith who for love of an artist's daughter,studied until he became a great painter, the boys asked their host if hehad seen any of Matsys' works.

  "Yes, indeed," he replied, "and excellent they are. His famous triptychin a chapel of the Antwerp cathedral, with the Descent from the Cross onthe centre panel, is especially fine; but I confess I was moreinterested in his well."

  "What well, mynheer?" asked Ludwig.

  "One in the heart of the city, near this same Cathedral, whose loftysteeple is of such delicate workmanship, that the French Emperor said itreminded him of Mechlin lace. The well is covered with a Gothic canopysurmounted by the figure of a knight in full armor. It is all of metal,and proves that Matsys was an artist at the forge as well as at theeasel; indeed his great fame is mainly derived from his miraculous skillas an artificer in iron."

  Next, mynheer showed the boys some exquisite Berlin castings, which hehad purchased in Antwerp. They were _iron jewelry_, and verydelicate--beautiful medallions desig
ned from rare paintings, borderedwith fine tracery and open work--worthy he said of being worn by thefairest lady of the land. Consequently the necklace was handed with abow and a smile to the blushing Mevrouw van Gend.

  Something in the lady's aspect, as she bent her bright young face overthe gift, caused mynheer to add earnestly:

  "I can read your thoughts, sweetheart."

  She looked up in playful defiance.

  "Ah! now I am sure of them. You were thinking of those noble-heartedwomen, but for whom Prussia might have fallen. I know it by that proudlight in your eye."

  "The proud light in my eye plays me false, then," she answered. "I hadno such grand matter in my mind. To confess the simple truth, I was onlythinking how lovely this necklace would be with my blue brocade."

  "So! so!" exclaimed the rather crestfallen spouse.

  "But I _can_ think of the other, Jasper, and it will add a deeper valueto your gift. You remember the incident, do you not, Peter? How whenthe French were invading Prussia and for lack of means, the country wasunable to defend itself against the enemy, the women turned the scale bypouring their plate and jewels into the public treasury----"

  "Aha!" thought mynheer, as he met his vrouw's kindling glance. "Theproud light is there, now, in earnest."

  Peter remarked maliciously that the women had still proved true to theirvanity on that occasion, for jewelry they would have. If gold or silverwere wanted by the kingdom, they would relinquish it and use iron, butthey could not do without their ornaments.

  "What of that?" said the vrouw, kindling again. "It is no sin to lovebeautiful things, if you adapt your material to circumstances. All _I_have to say is, the women saved their country and, indirectly,introduced a very important branch of manufacture. Is not that so,Jasper?"

  "Of course it is, sweetheart," said mynheer, "but Peter needs no word ofmine to convince him that all the world over, women have never beenfound wanting in their country's hour of trial, though (bowing toMevrouw) his own countrywomen stand foremost in the records of femalepatriotism and devotion."

  Then turning to Ben, the host talked with him in English of the fine oldBelgian city. Among other things, he told the origin of its name. Benhad been taught that Antwerp was derived from _ae'nt werf_ (on thewharf), but Mynheer van Gend gave him a far more interesting derivation.

  It appears that about three thousand years ago, a great giant, namedAntigonus, lived on the river Scheld, on the site of the present cityof Antwerp. This giant claimed half the merchandise of all navigatorswho passed his castle. Of course some were inclined to oppose thissimple regulation. In such cases, Antigonus, by way of teaching them topractice better manners next time, cut off and threw into the river theright hands of the merchants. Thus hand-werpen (or hand-throwing),changed to Antwerp, came to be the name of the place. The escutcheon orarms of the city has two hands upon it; what better proof than thiscould one have of the truth of the story, especially when one wishes tobelieve it!

  The giant was finally conquered and thrown into the Scheld by a herocalled Brabo, who in turn gave a name to the district known as Brabant.Since then the Dutch merchants have traveled the river in peace; but Ifor one thank old Antigonus for giving the city so romantic an origin.

  When Mynheer van Gend had related in two languages this story ofAntwerp, he was tempted to tell other legends--some in English, some inDutch; and so the moments, borne upon the swift shoulders of gnomes andgiants, glided rapidly away toward bedtime.

  It was hard to break up so pleasant a party, but the Van Gend householdmoved with the regularity of clockwork. There was no lingering at thethreshold when the cordial "good-night!" was spoken. Even while our boyswere mounting the stairs, the invisible household fairies againclustered around them, whispering that system and regularity had beenchief builders of the master's prosperity.

  Beautiful chambers with three beds in them, were not to be found inthis mansion. Some of the rooms contained two, but each visitor sleptalone. Before morning, the motto of the party evidently was, "every boyhis own chrysalis"--and Peter, at least, was not sorry to have it so.

  Tired as he was, Ben after noting a curious bell-rope in the corner,began to examine his bedclothes. Each article filled him withastonishment--the exquisitely fine pillow-spread trimmed with costlylace and embroidered with a gorgeous crest and initial, the _dekbed_cover (a great silk bag, large as the bed, stuffed with swan's-down) andthe pink satin quilts, embroidered with garlands of flowers. He couldscarcely sleep for thinking what a queer little bed it was, socomfortable and pretty, too, with all its queerness. In the morning heexamined the top coverlet with care, for he wished to send home adescription of it in his next letter. It was a Japanese spread,marvelous in texture as well as in its variety of brilliant coloring,and worth, as Ben afterward learned, not less than three hundreddollars.

  The floor was of polished wooden mosaic, nearly covered with a richcarpet bordered with thick, black fringe. Another room displayed amargin of satin-wood around the carpet. Hung with tapestry, its walls ofcrimson silk were topped with a gilded cornice which shot down gleams oflight far into the polished floor.

  Over the doorway of the room in which Jacob and Ben slept was a bronzestork who, with outstretched neck, held a lamp to light the guests intothe apartment. Between the two narrow beds, of carved white-wood andebony, stood the household treasure of the Van Gends, a massive oakenchair upon which the Prince of Orange had once sat, during a councilmeeting. Opposite, stood a quaintly carved clothes-press, waxed andpolished to the utmost, and filled with precious stores of linen; besideit a table holding a large Bible, whose great golden clasps looked poorcompared with its solid, ribbed binding made to outlast six generations.

  There was a ship model on the mantel-shelf, and over it hung an oldportrait of Peter the Great, who, you know, once gave the dockyard catsof Holland a fine chance to look at a king, which is one of the specialprerogatives of cats. Peter, though czar of Russia, was not too proud towork as a common shipwright in the dockyards of Saardam and Amsterdam,that he might be able to introduce among his countrymen Dutchimprovements in ship-building. It was this willingness to be thorough ineven the smallest beginnings that earned for him the title of Peter theGreat.

  Peter the little (comparatively speaking) was up first, the nextmorning; knowing the punctual habits of his brother-in-law, he took goodcare that none of the boys should oversleep themselves. A hard task hefound it to wake Jacob Poot; but after pulling that young gentleman outof bed, and, with Ben's help, dragging him about the room for a while,he succeeded in arousing him.

  While Jacob was dressing, and moaning within him, because the feltslippers, provided him as a guest, were too tight for his swollen feet,Peter wrote to inform their friends at Broek of the safe arrival of hisparty at the Hague. He also begged his mother to send word to HansBrinker that Dr. Boekman had not yet reached Leyden, but that a lettercontaining Hans' message had been left at the hotel, where the doctoralways lodged during his visits to the city. "Tell him, also," wrotePeter, "that I shall call there again, as I pass through Leyden. Thepoor boy seemed to feel sure that 'the meester' would hasten to save hisfather, but we, who know the gruff old gentleman better, may beconfident he will do no such thing. It would be a kindness to send avisiting physician from Amsterdam to the cottage at once, ifJufvrouw[25] Brinker will consent to receive any but the great king ofthe meesters, as Dr. Boekman certainly is.

  [Footnote 25: In Holland, women of the lower grades of society do nottake the title of Mrs. (or Mevrouw) when they marry, as with us. Theyassume their husband's name, but are still called Miss (Jufvrouw,pronounced Yuffrow).]

  "You know, mother," added Peter, "that I have always considered sisterVan Gend's house as rather quiet and lonely; but I assure you, it is notso now. Sister says our presence has warmed it for the whole winter.Brother van Gend is very kind to us all. He says we make him wish thathe had a houseful of boys of his own. He has promised to let us ride onhis noble black horses. They are gentle as kittens, he
says, if one havebut a firm touch at the rein. Ben, according to Jacob's account, is aglorious rider, and your son Peter is not a very bad hand at thebusiness; so we two are to go out together this morning mounted likeknights of old. After we return, brother van Gend says he will lendJacob his English pony and obtain three extra horses; and all of theparty are to trot about the city, in a grand cavalcade, led on by him.He will ride the black horse which father sent him from Friesland. Mysister's pretty roan with the long white tail is lame and she will ridenone other; else she would accompany us. I could scarce close my eyeslast night after sister told me of the plan. Only the thought of poorHans Brinker and his sick father checked me--but for that I could havesung for joy. Ludwig has given us a name already--the Broek Cavalry. Weflatter ourselves that we shall make an imposing appearance, especiallyin single file...."

  The Broek Cavalry were not disappointed. Mynheer van Gend readilyprocured good horses; and all the boys could ride, though none were asperfect horsemen (or horseboys) as Peter and Ben. They saw the Hague totheir hearts' content; and the Hague saw them--expressing itsapprobation, loudly, through the mouths of small boys and cart-dogs;silently, through bright eyes that, not looking very deeply into things,shone as they looked at the handsome Carl, and twinkled with fun as acertain portly youth with shaking cheeks rode past "bumpetty, bumpetty,bump!"

  On their return, the boys pronounced the great porcelain stove in thefamily sitting-room a decidedly useful piece of furniture, for theycould gather round it and get warm without burning their noses orbringing on chilblains. It was so very large that, though hot no-where,it seemed to send out warmth by the houseful--Its pure white sides andpolished brass rings made it a pretty object to look upon,notwithstanding the fact that our ungrateful Ben, while growingthoroughly warm and comfortable beside it, concocted a satiricalsentence for his next letter, to the effect that a stove in Holland mustof course resemble a great tower of snow or it wouldn't be in keepingwith the oddity of the country.

  To describe all the boys saw and did on that day and the next, wouldrender this little book a formidable volume indeed. They visited thebrass cannon foundry, saw the liquid fire poured into moulds andwatched the smiths who, half naked, stood in the shadow, like demonsplaying with flame. They admired the grand public buildings and massiveprivate houses, the elegant streets, and noble Bosch--pride of allbeauty-loving Hollanders. The palace with its brilliant mosaic floors,its frescoed ceilings and gorgeous ornament, filled Ben with delight; hewas surprised that some of the churches were so very plain--elaboratesometimes in external architecture, but bare and bleak within with theirblank, whitewashed walls.

  If there were no printed record, the churches of Holland would almosttell her story. I will not enter into the subject here, except to saythat Ben--who had read of her struggles and wrongs, and of the terribleretribution she from time to time dealt forth--could scarcely tread aHolland town without mentally leaping horror-stricken over the bloodystepping-stones of its history. He could not forget Philip of Spain northe Duke of Alva even while rejoicing in the prosperity that followedthe Liberation. He looked in the meekest of Dutch eyes, for something ofthe fire that once lit the haggard faces of those desperate, lawlessmen, who wearing with pride the title of "beggars" which theiroppressors had mockingly cast upon them, became the terror of land andsea. In Haarlem, he had wondered that the air did not still resound withthe cries of Alva's three thousand victims. In Leyden, his heart hadswelled in sympathy as he thought of the long procession of scarred andfamished creatures who after the siege, with Adrian van der Werf attheir head, tottered to the great church to sing a glorious anthembecause Leyden was free! He remembered that this was even before theyhad tasted the bread brought by the Dutch ships. They would praise Godfirst, then eat. Thousands of trembling voices were raised in gladthanksgiving. For a moment, it swelled higher and higher--then suddenlychanged to sobbing--not one of all the multitude could sing anothernote. But who shall say that the anthem, even to its very end, was notheard in Heaven!

  Here, in the Hague, other thoughts came to Ben--Of how Holland in lateryears unwillingly put her head under the French yoke, and how, galledand lashed past endurance, she had resolutely jerked it out again. Heliked her for that. What nation of any spirit, thought he, could beexpected to stand such work, paying all her wealth into a foreigntreasury and yielding up the flower of her youth under foreignconscription. It was not so very long ago, either, since English gunshad been heard booming close by in the German Ocean; well--all thefighting was over at last. Holland was a snug little monarchy now in herown right, and Ben, for one, was glad of it. Arrived at this charitableconclusion, he was prepared to enjoy to the utmost all the wonders ofher capital; he quite delighted Mynheer van Gend with his hearty andintelligent interest--so, in fact, did all the boys, for a merrier, moreobservant party never went sightseeing.