Dutch Life in Town and Country | Page 6

a year--the stern, ancient city, represented by its
sturdy citizens, its fair women, its proud inhabitants, and Holland's
youthful Queen, blossoming forth as a symbol of new, fresh life, fresh
hope and promise. Here they meet, the sons and daughters of the men
and women who never gave way, who saw their immense riches accrue,
as their liberties grew, by sheer force of will, by inflexible
determination, by dauntless power of purpose; here they meet, the last
descendant of the famous House of Orange-Nassau, the queenly bride,

whose forefathers were well entitled to let their proud war-cry resound
on the battlefields of Europe: 'À moi, généreux sang de Nassau!'
When the Queen is in Amsterdam the citizens go out to the 'Dam,' the
Square where the palace stands, offering their homage by cheers and
waving of hats, and by singing the war-psalm of the old warriors of
William the Silent, 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwe.' Then the leaders of
Amsterdam, its merchants, scientists, and artists, leave their beautiful
homes on Heeren-and Keizers-gracht, with their wives and daughters
wrapped in costly garments, glittering in profusion of diamonds and
rubies and pearls, and drive to the huge palace to offer homage to their
Queen, just as proud as she, just as patriotic as she, just as faithful and
loyal as she.
Three hundred years have done their incessant work in welding the
House of Orange and Amsterdam together; ruptures and quarrels have
occurred; yet, after every struggle, both found out that they could not
well do without each other; and now when the Queen and the city meet,
mutual respect, mutual confidence, and reciprocal affection attest the
firm bond which unites them.
To the Amsterdam patriciate the yearly visit of the Queen is a social
function full of interest. To the Queen it is more than that; she visits not
only the patricians, she also visits the people, the poor and the toilers.
Of course Amsterdam has its Socialists, and a good many of them, too,
and Socialists are not only fiery but also vociferous republicans as a
rule, who believe that royalty and a queen are a blot upon modern
civilization. But their sentiments, however well uttered, are not popular.
For when 'Our Child,' as the Queen is still frequently called, drives
through the workmen's quarter of Amsterdam, the 'Jordaan' (a
corruption of the French _jardin_), the bunting is plentiful, the cheering
and singing are more so, and the general enthusiasm surpasses both.
The 'man in the street,' that remarkable political genius of the present
age, has scarcely ever wavered in his simple affection for his Prince
and Princess of Orange; and though this affection is personal, not
political--for nothing is political to 'the man in the street'--there it is
none the less, and it does not give way to either reasoning or prejudice.
Such is the external side of Court life. Internally it strikes one as simple
and unaffected. Queen Emma was a lady possessing high qualifications
as a mother and as a ruler. She grasped with undeniable shrewdness the

popular taste and fancy, she had no difficulty in realizing that her rather
easy-going, sometimes blustering, Consort could have retained a great
deal more of his popularity by very simple means, if he had cared to do
so. She did care, so she allowed her little girl to be a little girl, and she
let the people notice it. She went about with her, all through the country,
and the people beheld not two proud princesses, strutting about in high
and mighty manner, but a gracions, kind lady and an unaffected child.
This child showed a genuine interest in sport in Friesland, in
excavations in Maastricht, in ships and quays and docks in Rotterdam
and Amsterdam, and in hospitals and orphanages everywhere.
Anecdotes came into existence--the little Queen had been seen at
'hop-scotch,' had refused to go to bed early, had annoyed her governess,
had been skating, had been snow balling her royal mother, etc. And
later, when she was driving or riding, when she attended State
functions or paid official visits, there was always a simplicity in her
turn out, a quiet dignity in her demeanour, which proved that she felt
no particular desire to advertise herself as one of the wealthiest
sovereigns of the world by the mere splendour of her surroundings.
This supreme tact of Queen Emma resulted in her daughter being
educated as a queen, as the Dutch like their sovereigns. Court life in
The Hague or at the Loo certainly lacks neither dignity nor brilliancy,
but it lacks showiness, and many an English nobleman lives in a
grander style than Holland's Queen. Now, education may bend, but it
does not alter a charactcr, and whatever qualifies may have adorned or
otherwise influenced the late King, he was no more