DOI Heft:
No. 11 (February, 1894)
DOI Artikel:Emanuel, Frank L.: Letters from artists to artists, [5], Holland from a Canadian canoe
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17189#0180
Holland from a Canadian Canoe
the canoe to their cafe\ so that they might try their the river Spaame, whence we carried Koopitee to
skill at paddling during our absence. a stable.
Had we been so persuaded, our little vessel The show-places and pictures of Haarlem are
would not have been burdened for many seconds, too well known to need description here; we left
We eventually stowed the canoe for the night in the city by way of the picturesque Amsterdam gate
" AT SCHEVENINGEN "
an hotel stable alongside the properties of a
travelling circus. After spending a morning sight-
seeing in Leyden we left for Haarlem.
The character of the landscape began to change
somewhat, the horizon at a short distance was
bounded by white sand-dunes glistening in the
sun, with here a lighthouse peeping over, and there
a large town trying to hide itself. These humble
hills hold the wild North Sea from drowning
Holland. One sees hereabouts many acres of
tulips and hyacinths, the country for miles
around is deliciously scented by them, while we
find the waterways in the vicinity strewn with
enormous tulips of the rarest hues. Soon we
are encompassed by beautifully wooded hills, and
then through the country where formerly raged
the Haarlemsche Meer, an inland sea, averaging
about twelve feet deep, which in stormy weather
kept the neighbourhood in terror. By the aid of
Cornish pumping-engines and untiring perse-
verance on the part of the Dutch the sea was
drained away. The land it covered is now very
fertile and thickly populated. After a stop for
tea at Vogelenzang, a French - looking village
buried in the woods, we hurried on for Haar-
lem, chased by a thunderstorm. We were
close on the town with its many towers before
it came into sight, the cathedral rising supreme
over all. The storm was bursting overhead as
we paddled through the place to a wharf on
168
and towed to Halfweg, where our canal came to an
abrupt end, opposite a fine old chateau now used
as a factory. Being obliged to retrace our steps so
as to use another canal, and finding after some time
that we approached no nearer to Amsterdam, we
decided to paddle up a narrow drainage cut, carry
our craft over a field and a road, and then set her
afloat once more. Having done this, we found we
were within a stone's-throw of our starting-place
at Halfweg.
Some distance further on a winding waterway
suddenly leads us by a disused gateway of the
town, and past a picturesque medley of buildings,
into the city. We push through a long canal all
highly coloured (and scented), and gain a busy
quarter dominated by a fine circular church capped
by an emerald-green copper dome, past the old
railway-station, picturesque in its shabbiness, and
then past the new, a proud pile of red brick and
stone richly set with mosaics, sculpture, and artistic
ironwork. Under an arch we get a glimpse of the
river Ij, teeming with life. Ahead of us looms the
new Roman Catholic Cathedral, a handsome build-
ing with fine towers, and so well situated as to
improve every view in which it is included.' We
reach the docks after paddling under many bridges,
and admire the hoary Weepers' Tower, so called
because up to the time when the present river-front
was built out into the stream, the bold mariners'
wives would mount the tower to wave a last good-
the canoe to their cafe\ so that they might try their the river Spaame, whence we carried Koopitee to
skill at paddling during our absence. a stable.
Had we been so persuaded, our little vessel The show-places and pictures of Haarlem are
would not have been burdened for many seconds, too well known to need description here; we left
We eventually stowed the canoe for the night in the city by way of the picturesque Amsterdam gate
" AT SCHEVENINGEN "
an hotel stable alongside the properties of a
travelling circus. After spending a morning sight-
seeing in Leyden we left for Haarlem.
The character of the landscape began to change
somewhat, the horizon at a short distance was
bounded by white sand-dunes glistening in the
sun, with here a lighthouse peeping over, and there
a large town trying to hide itself. These humble
hills hold the wild North Sea from drowning
Holland. One sees hereabouts many acres of
tulips and hyacinths, the country for miles
around is deliciously scented by them, while we
find the waterways in the vicinity strewn with
enormous tulips of the rarest hues. Soon we
are encompassed by beautifully wooded hills, and
then through the country where formerly raged
the Haarlemsche Meer, an inland sea, averaging
about twelve feet deep, which in stormy weather
kept the neighbourhood in terror. By the aid of
Cornish pumping-engines and untiring perse-
verance on the part of the Dutch the sea was
drained away. The land it covered is now very
fertile and thickly populated. After a stop for
tea at Vogelenzang, a French - looking village
buried in the woods, we hurried on for Haar-
lem, chased by a thunderstorm. We were
close on the town with its many towers before
it came into sight, the cathedral rising supreme
over all. The storm was bursting overhead as
we paddled through the place to a wharf on
168
and towed to Halfweg, where our canal came to an
abrupt end, opposite a fine old chateau now used
as a factory. Being obliged to retrace our steps so
as to use another canal, and finding after some time
that we approached no nearer to Amsterdam, we
decided to paddle up a narrow drainage cut, carry
our craft over a field and a road, and then set her
afloat once more. Having done this, we found we
were within a stone's-throw of our starting-place
at Halfweg.
Some distance further on a winding waterway
suddenly leads us by a disused gateway of the
town, and past a picturesque medley of buildings,
into the city. We push through a long canal all
highly coloured (and scented), and gain a busy
quarter dominated by a fine circular church capped
by an emerald-green copper dome, past the old
railway-station, picturesque in its shabbiness, and
then past the new, a proud pile of red brick and
stone richly set with mosaics, sculpture, and artistic
ironwork. Under an arch we get a glimpse of the
river Ij, teeming with life. Ahead of us looms the
new Roman Catholic Cathedral, a handsome build-
ing with fine towers, and so well situated as to
improve every view in which it is included.' We
reach the docks after paddling under many bridges,
and admire the hoary Weepers' Tower, so called
because up to the time when the present river-front
was built out into the stream, the bold mariners'
wives would mount the tower to wave a last good-