A Tour Through the Batavian Republic/Letter I
TOUR
THROUGH THE
BATAVIAN REPUBLIC
LETTER I.
IF the intelligence of our capture has not already reached your town, you will be greatly surprised at receiving a letter from this place, when you expected us safe arrived in London. Scarcely twelve hours of favourable wind had wafted us from your port, when we perceived, at about the distance of two miles, a French corsair, in the act of capturing an English vessel. The sight, you may believe, alarmed us, who were unfurnished with any means of defence, and could not hope to escape by flight from a vessel built for purposes of swiftness and fight. At this time there were perhaps thirty ships in sight, any of, which it was in the corsair's power to capture; and I indulged the hope that in his selection of a prize, we might have the good fortune not to be the object of his choice. Appearances for some time flattered this hope: there was a brig near us, which carried more external marks of opulence about her than we bore, and it was this vessel, rather than ours, which the Frenchman chased. There was something in this state of suspense and uncertainty peculiarly distressing: as we might hope to escape, every one, I believe, thought himself privileged to represent the evils of capture in the worst possible light; whereas, the moment it became inevitable we should be taken, with such facility does the human mind accommodate itself to circumstances, every person became endowed with a large portion of sullen resignation, which answered all the purposes of fortitude, and is indeed, in men of ordinary habits of thinking, a substitute quality for that virtue.
Poor ——— felt almost nothing for herself; but her sympathy was deeply excited for Captain ———, whose share of the vessel, purchased by the accumulations of many years of industrious frugality, was uninsured. His was the loss of property which it had been the labour of his life to obtain; it was a little store for the winter of his days, to provide for the wants of existence, when age and infirmities demand the quiets of indolent ease. The crew also claimed a large tribute of her sorrow: each eagerly told his history, and received his share of pity. They were all of them men who maintained large families by their industry; and I was pleased to find, that the concern which they felt for the distresses which their wives and children would suffer from their absence, in this season of awful scarcity, was unspeakably superior to any feeling of a personal consideration. I can love with all the partial affection of friendship the rudest of Nature's sons, when I perceive in him those delicate charities of affiance, which bind the individual to his family; and I consider those acts of public virtue which are founded upon violations of parental and private affection, as criminal offences against the holiest laws of nature.
Our flag was struck on the firing of a musket, the only gun I ever heard (as the sailors term it) fired in anger, the sound of which yet tingles in my ear; and a boat from the corsair immediately took possession of our vessel. The captain and crew, with the little baggage which they were allowed to take away with them, were then carried on board the Frenchman; and it was in contemplation that the passengers, consisting of three females[1] and myself, should follow them; but as I was persuaded we should be exposed to much inconvenience and distress on board a vessel that was crowded with men, and devoid of accommodations, and I had an opportunity of remonstrating with the captain of the republican on the subject, I prevailed on him, though not without difficulty, to permit us to remain in the prize. I now learned that the name of the corsair was The Chasseur, Captain Blackman, of Dunkirk, and that her depredations on the English coast had been uncommonly successful.
The whole business of our capture was over in little more than half an hour, and with unspeakable soreness and oppression of heart, I saw the vessel steer from the English coast. The high lands of Yorkshire, towering in the clouds, were in sight, and with eager eyes I gazed on them till they appeared to sink in the water. What, under other circumstances, would have been a spectacle which I should have admired, chilled my soul. There is something congenial to an ardent mind in whatever displays the spirit of adventure and courage. On former occasions my departure from land, and rushing on the broad bosom of the deep, have filled me with sublime and solemn emotions: the receding hills, the vast expanse of water, which the vessel proudly ploughed, have seemed to me a scene of triumph — the triumph of man over an hostile element. But now I was torn from my connections, my home, and my country; and in the power of men whose character it has been to aggravate the infelicities of war. Though I gained in all the finer feelings of the heart, I lost something of the independence of manhood, by having for the companion of my misfortune that person with whose pleasures and sorrows mine are so intimately blended, that I feel the evil with tenfold weight in which she participates. Alone, if I could not have been a hero, I could have been a stoic, but there was not a fear which she suggested, such is the electricity of affection, and the blind respect we pay to the feelings of those we love, that I did not view with horror which almost amounted to the torture of real suffering.
The Frenchmen who had charge of the vessel, consisted of a prize-master and three sailors. I have rarely seen persons of worse countenances: I enquired, and found they were all natives of Dunkirk, and had never been at Paris, or I should have conceived they had been active in some of those scenes which, in the early stages of the revolution, outraged humanity, and disgraced that city. But that character of features which alarmed me, might easily be attributed to local circumstances. Dunkirk is the resort of desperadoes and outlaws from various nations, who in peace subsist by carrying on a contraband trade with England, in war by capturing vessels; and the occupations of smuggling and privateering being invariably attended with a very considerable degree of danger, and often with little concern for the claims of humanity, the persons so engaged acquire a cast of countenance, which I cannot otherwise distinguish than by saying, it partakes of the assassin and the robber.
Neither the countenance, however, of my prize-master, nor his sailors, gave me half the alarm that I felt at the discovery of their utter ignorance of navigation, and the art of managing a ship. The evening was stormy, and at midnight it blew a severe gale of wind, with a rough dangerous sea. The terms which I should use, were I describing our situation to a naval person, would be unintelligible to you; nor indeed can I boast of much facility in displaying my nautical knowledge. I shall therefore shorten my detail by simply observing, that for thirty hours the vessel was in the last degree of danger, merely through the unskilfulness and ignorance of the Frenchman. We were within two leagues of the coast of Holland, and in six fathoms of water, before they thought of heaving the lead, nor would it then have occurred to them as a thing that was necessary, had I not succeeded in persuading them they were not far from land. Such an instance of stupidity rarely occurs, on a shore so proverbially dangerous as the coast of Holland where innumerable shoals, lurking under water, long before the land is visible, threaten with destruction the incautious mariner.
Cleanliness, I believe, is not a virtue for which the sailors of any nation are to be commended, there is generally something about them to offend more than one sense, and no class of men are less attentive to personal delicacy. Our Frenchmen were the most disgusting as well as the most ignorant of their profession……
The Dutch pilot who came on board, at the mouth of the Maese, gave me at first no very favourable idea of the reception we would meet with in his country. A fishing vessel belonging to him had been destroyed the preceding year by the fleet under admiral Mitchel, and his son was a prisoner in England. He was offended at an orange-coloured shawl, which ——— unfortunately wore, and he represented himself and his countrymen as the bitterest enemies of the English name. This conversation passed, it is proper to inform you, in the presence of the prize-master. The pilot had indeed suffered by the English, and his son was a prisoner; but his animosity against our nation was of the mildest kind, it was the cordiality of friendship, compared with the aversion which he expressed to the French. Speaking of the ignorance of the prize-master and his crew, he assured me that our danger had been infinitely greater than I suspected; many vessels had lately been lost near where the Frenchmen ventured without any of the usual precautions of navigation. He spoke good English, and was of great service to us by pointing out the measures necessary to be taken to preserve our property from the rapacity of the republican sailors.
We came to anchor off Briel (or the Briel, as it is called, though for what reason I know not) in the afternoon, and were immediately visited by boats from the shore and guard-ships. I was informed we should not be permitted to land, till an order for that purpose had been received from the government; but I immediately waited on the Dutch commodore, and on representing to him how ill we were accommodated, he promised to take us on board his own ship the next day. I obtained also from him a guard for the security of our persons and property, and he politely sent us such refreshments as he judged would be most agreeable to us, after the fatigues of our passage, and the indisposition which persons generally feel from the sea, who are unaccustomed to the motion of the waves.
My Frenchmen were extremely indignant that we should he thus under the protection of the Batavian government, for they considered us in some sort as exclusively their property, and had, after the fashion of their rulers, determined to levy on us a contribution either in specie or apparel. But the presence of two robust Hollanders defeated their intentions, and their resentment was confined to idle menaces and impotent threats. It is the custom of private vessels of war, of other nations as well as the French, to pillage the passengers who are so unfortunate as to fall into their hands; but complaints of this kind would be less frequently made, were the persons so taken to apply immediately for protection to the constituted authorities of the place whither they are carried: men who have obtained a certain rank and character in life, are rarely disposed to permit open violations of justice, however they may be inclined to connive at private injuries to the rights of individuals.
We are now with commodore ———, prisoners of war, till passports arrive from the Hague, either remanding us to our own country, or granting us permission to see whatever is most remarkable in the Batavian republic. Since the fortune of war has conducted me hither, and it is little probable that business, necessity, or pleasure, should ever lead me again to this part of the continent of Europe, I am resolved, if I can obtain permission, to profit by the occasion, and make the tour of the United Provinces. I say the United Provinces, because the Batavian republic has not yet obtained a place in our maps and gazetters; and to the one I associate something that is great and heroic, whereas the other conveys to my mind no favourable ideas. I shall therefore probably when I meet with objects which please me, speak of them as belonging to the United Provinces, or the contrary as belonging to the Batavian republic. I have no disinclination to admit that the, latter appellation is the most classical; but I am sorry that name should be abolished, which was bestowed on this country by those heroes who most vigorously defended their liberties against the gigantic forces of the Spanish monarchy, and established a wise and salutary system of freedom, which became the admiration of surrounding nations.
By the indulgence of commodore ——— we have been on shore about two hours at the Briel. It is a fortified place, but of inconsiderable strength[2]. Since the English expedition last year, they have repaired the ramparts, and constructed new batteries. I ought to mention that a chain of fortifications extends from the mouth of the Maese to this town, which would render it extremely difficult and dangerous for an enemy to effect a landing, and signal posts, beacons, and telegraphs, are thickly scattered over the country, so that an alarm would instantly be given and widely circulated, on the appearance of an hostile fleet.
Near the great church stands the tree of liberty, surmounted with a huge tin hat, which is decorated with the tricoloured ribbon. Various emblematic figures, painted more wretchedly than the hopes and angels on the sign-boards of our hedge ale-houses, are attached to the branches; and long scrolls of Dutch verses, to the merits of which I am not competent to speak. But, alas! the tree is withered and dead. I should imitate the folly of the persons who planted and ridiculously nicknamed the tree, were I to say more than I believe that few trees, of a certain age and growth, survive transplantation, and that the death of this tree was nothing more than the natural consequence of its removal. I congratulate myself that I do not belong to a nation which can be amused with such insipidities.
The face of the country, the appearance of the people, and what I have seen of their houses, are quite as different as I expected to find them, from what I have seen in England or abroad. The country exhibits a wonderful display of the mighty effects which human industry is capable of achieving. It is an extensive territory, rich in agriculture, and crowded with cities, rescued by the vast efforts of man from the dominion of the sea[3]. From the deck of the vessel, on board of which I write this letter, the prospect of cultivated and pasture lands, of towns and villages, extends, far as the eye can reach, uninterrupted by the least inequalities of ground; and the ship floats on a vast mass of water, some feet above the meadows, were numerous flocks are grazing. I ought to inform you, that I speak of what is the appearance of the country when the tide is at its height; but at low water I am told the sea is near above a foot higher than the level of the earth, so that dykes of an astonishing magnitude and solidity are necessary to preserve them from the most dreadful inundations.
- ↑ The wife of the Writer of these Letters, to whom, with the sincerest affection, he inscribes them; their servant; and a poor woman who was returning from the country to her family in London.
- ↑ The Briel was the first town which revolted from the authority of Philip the Second, and its inhabitants are, with justice, proud that their ancestors led the way to the independence of the United Provinces.
- ↑ Goldsmith's description of Holland, in his Traveller, is equally to be admired for the beauty of the poetry, and the fidelity of the picture.—
- To men of other minds my fancy flies,
Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies.
Methinks her patient sons before me stand,
Where the broad ocean leans against the land,
And, sedulous to stop the coming tide,
Lift the tall rampires' artificial pride.
Onward, methinks, and diligently flow,
The firm, connected bulwark seems to grow;
Spreads its long arms amidst the wat'ry roar,
Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore:
While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile,
Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile;—
The flow canal, the yellow-blossom'd vale,
The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail,
The crowded mart, the cultivated plain—
A new creation rescued from his reign.
- To men of other minds my fancy flies,