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
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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