three hundred in number,
are they who give life to the peaceful town of Grotius.
As I was stepping into the vessel which was to bear me to the Hague,
my Dutch friend described the last of those students' festivals at
Delft which are celebrated once in five years. It was one of those
pageants peculiar to Holland, a sort of historical masquerade like a
reflection of the magnificence of the past, serving to remind the
people of the traditions, the personages, and illustrious events of
earlier times. A great cavalcade represented the entrance into
Arnheim, in 1492, of Charles of Egmont, Duke of Gelderland, Count of
Zutphen. He belonged to that family of Egmont which in the person of
the noble and unfortunate Count Lamoral gave the first great martyr of
Dutch liberty to the axe of the Duke of Alva. Two hundred students on
richly caparisoned horses, clothed in armor, decorated with mantles
embroidered with coats of arms, with waving plumes and large swords
proudly brandished, formed the retinue of the Duke of Gelderland. Then
came halberdiers, archers, and foot-soldiers dressed in the pompous
fashion of the fifteenth century; bands played, the city blazed with
lights, and through its streets flowed an immense crowd, which had
come from every part of Holland to enjoy this splendid vision of a
distant age.
THE HAGUE.
The boat that was to carry me to the Hague was moored near a bridge,
in a little basin formed by the canal which leads from Delft to the
Hague, and shaded by trees on the bank like a garden lake.
The boats that carry passengers from town to town are called in Dutch
_trekschuiten_. The _trekschuit_ is the traditional boat, as
emblematic of Holland as is the gondola of Venice. Esquiros defined it
as "the genius of ancient Holland floating on the waters;" and, in
fact, any one who has not travelled in a _trekschuit_ is not
acquainted with Dutch life under its most original and poetic aspect.
It is a large boat, almost entirely covered with a cabin shaped like a
stage-coach and divided into two compartments--the division near the
prow being for second-class passengers, and that near the poop for
first-class. An iron pole with a ring at the end is fastened to the
prow, through which a long rope is passed; this is tied at one end
near the rudder and at the other end is fastened a tow-horse, which is
ridden by a boatman. The windows of the cabin have white curtains; the
walls and doors are painted. In t
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