German fiction -- Translations into English; Netherlands -- History -- Eighty Years' War, 1568-1648 -- Fiction
A few hours before the nocturnal burial of old Fraulein Van Hoogstraten,
Herr Matanesse Van Wibisma and his son Nicolas appeared before the city,
but were refused admittance by the men who guarded the gates, although
both appealed to their relative’s death. Henrica’s father did not come,
he had gone several days before to attend a tourney at Cologne.
CHAPTER XVI.
Between twelve and one o’clock on the 26th of May, Ascension-Day,
the ringing of bells announced the opening of the great fair. The old
circuit of the boundaries of the fields had long since given place to
a church festival, but the name of “Ommegang” remained interwoven with
that of the fair, and even after the new religion had obtained the
mastery, all sorts of processions took place at the commencement of the
fair.
In the days of Catholic rule the cross had been borne through the
streets in a soleum procession, in which all Leyden took part, now the
banners of the city and standards bearing the colors of the House of
Orange headed the train, followed by the nobles on horseback, the city
magistrates in festal array, the clergy in black robes, the volunteers
in magnificent uniforms, the guilds with their emblems, and long joyous
ranks of school-children. Even the poorest people bought some thing new
for their little ones on this day. Never did mothers braid their young
daughters’ hair more carefully, than for the procession at the opening
of the fair. Spite of the hard times, many a stiver was taken from
slender purses for fresh ribbons and new shoes, becoming caps and
bright-hued stockings. The spring sunshine could be reflected from the
little girls’ shining, smoothly-combed hair, and the big boys and little
children looked even gayer than the flowers in Herr Van Montfort’s
garden, by which the procession was obliged to pass. Each wore a sprig
of green leaves in his cap beside the plume, and the smaller the boy,
the larger the branch. There was no lack of loud talk and merry shouts,
for every child that passed its home called to its mother, grandparents,
and the servants, and when one raised its voice many others instantly
followed. The grown people too were not silent, and as the procession
approached the town-hall, head-quarters of military companies,
guild-halls or residences of popular men, loud cheers arose, mingled
with the ringing of bells, the shouts of the sailors on both arms of the
Rhine and on the canals, the playing of the city musicians at the street
corners, and the rattle of guns and roar of cannon fired by the gunners
and their assistants from the citadel. It was a joyous tumult in jocund
spring! These merry mortals seemed to lull themselves carelessly in the
secure enjoyment of peace and prosperity, and how blue the sky was, how
warmly and brightly the sun shone! The only grave, anxious faces were
among the magistrates; but the guilds and the children behind did not
see them, so the rejoicings continued without interruption until the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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