ADIEU TO HOLLAND AND PROFESSOR HAMBLIN.

After dinner the party, in charge of a couple of the city officials, who had given them a welcome, went to the Palace, the noblest building in Amsterdam.  It rests upon nearly fourteen thousand piles, driven seventy feet through the mud to “hard pan.”  During the reign of King Louis, it was his residence, and the other sovereigns of Holland used it when they visited the city.  Its remarkable feature is an imposing hall, one hundred and twenty feet long, fifty-seven feet wide, and one hundred feet high.  The interior is lined with Italian marble, and adorned with works of art.

“Young gentlemen,” said Mr. Mapps, taking position in this great hall, “Amsterdam contains a population of two hundred and sixty-eight thousand.  In shape, it forms rather more than the plane of a half circle, the circumference being composed of the walls of the city, outside of which is an immense canal.  Inside of the walls there are four principal canals, extending nearly around the city.  Take the transverse section of the trunk of a chestnut tree, divide it, with the grain of the wood, into two equal parts, and the top of one of them will give you the plane of the half circle.  The layers of the log, formed by each year’s growth, would indicate the canals and the intervening spaces covered with buildings.  The heart of the city, however, is irregular.

“Each of these canals is situated in the centre of a broad street.  The Keizers Gracht, or Canal, is one hundred and forty feet wide.  They are not circular, but form the sides of an irregular decagon.  Other canals intersect the principal ones, so that all parts of the city may be visited in boats or vessels.  The River Amstel flows through the town by a winding course; and Amsterdam is derived from the name of this stream and the dam built over it, in former days, on the spot where this edifice is located.

“The Y, or the Ij, is an arm of the Zuyder Zee, and forms the diameter of the half circle; but it is bent in the shape of a bow.  The water is admitted to the canals by the Amstel.  At low tide the water in the Zuyder Zee is only six or seven inches below the level of this river, and great difficulty is experienced in obtaining a circulation of water in the canals, where it stagnates, and affects the health of the city.  All the canals and openings from the sea are protected by flood-gates and sluices.  The canals which cut up the city divide it into no less than ninety islands, connected by two hundred and fifty bridges.

“The entire town, its sluices, and even some of its canals, are built upon piles; for the soil beneath is nothing but loose sand and bog mud.  In 1822 a vast warehouse sunk down into the mud, on account of the weight of grain stored in it.  Amsterdam is not only in peril from the sea around it, but there is danger that the bottom may drop out.

“In the Spanish war, of which I have had so much to say since we entered Holland, Amsterdam was held by the Duke of Alva, and, with this city as the base of operations, he intended to conquer the country.  The siege of Harlem was conducted from this direction.

“A small fleet of Dutch armed vessels was frozen up near this city, and a force was sent to capture them by the Spanish commander.  The crews opened a wide trench in the ice around their vessels, and, putting on their skates as the besiegers approached, advanced to give them battle.  The Dutchmen, perfectly at home on skates, out-manoeuvred and beat the Spaniards, who left several hundred of their dead on the ice.  The duke was astonished; but he was a prudent man, and ordered seven thousand pairs of skates, upon which his troops were trained to perform military movements.”

“That was a big thing on ice,” said one of the students, as the lecture closed.

In the course of the day the party visited the Oude Kerk, or Old Church, containing “a big organ,” the Niewe Kerk, which has monuments to De Ruiter, Van Speyk, and others.

“You will not have an opportunity to go to church in Holland, Paul,” said the doctor.

“No, sir; I suppose we sail for Havre this week.”

“Most of the people go to church; but they do not observe the Sabbath very rigidly.  Gentlemen sit with their hats on during the service, or take them off, as they please.  Amsterdam is one of the most charitable cities in the world, and is noted for its almshouses, asylums, hospitals.  In one orphan asylum there are seven or eight hundred boys and girls, who are kept there till they are twenty years old, and then sent out with a good trade.  They wear a peculiar dress, to prevent them from being admitted to theatres, rum-shops, and other improper places; for the keepers of these establishments are severely punished if they permit any of the children of the public charitable institutions to enter their places.  A contribution for the poor is taken up every Sunday in the churches by the deacons, who use a thing like a shrimp-net with a long handle, having a little bell for the benefit of those who wish to look the other way when it is thrust in their faces.”

“That’s a good idea; but, I suppose, the Dutch have invented some small coin for these occasions,” laughed Paul.

“A stiver, or five Dutch cents, equal to less than two of our cents, is small enough.  There are a great many poor people in Amsterdam who live entirely in cellars.  As you have seen, a great many families live in vessels, keeping a pig, hens, and ducks on board, and sometimes even have a little garden on deck.  When the Dutchman gets married and sets up in life, he obtains a small boat of from one to three tons, and goes to housekeeping on board.  If they prosper, they buy a bigger craft; but his home, his wife, and children are on the water.”

The dike which surrounds Amsterdam has been planted with trees, and converted into boulevards.  There were formerly twenty-six bastions upon it, constituting the fortifications of the city; but, being no longer useful for defence, windmills have been erected upon them, to grind the grain for the city.  The four streets bordering the principal canals are hardly to be surpassed in Europe.  The buildings, which are mostly of brick, are unique, with fantastic gables and projecting eaves.  Many of the streets are lined with trees on the banks of the canals.  On the whole, the students were more interested in Amsterdam than in any other city they had visited, partly, perhaps, on account of its oddity.  As long as there was light to see, they continued their rambles, and then retired early, in order to be prepared for a fresh start the next day.

At five o’clock in the morning the party took a steamer for Zaandam, or Sardam.  Leaving the shore, they had a fine view of the city.  The harbor is enclosed by two rows of piles, with occasional openings to admit the passage of vessels, which are closed at night with booms armed with iron spikes.  In various parts of the Ij were seen little pavilions, built upon piers, which are the summer houses of wealthy citizens, who own pleasure-boats, and repair in them to these cosy little temples, to drink wine and coffee and smoke their pipes.

At Sardam the curious students visited the cottage of Peter the Great, in which he lived while he worked as a shipwright.  The shanty is of rough plank, and cants over on one side; but it was surrounded by another building by the Queen of Holland, to protect it from further decay.  It contains but two rooms, one above the other, the former reached only by a ladder.  Alexander of Russia placed over the chimney-piece a marble slab bearing the inscription, “Nothing is too small for a great man.”  The walls of both rooms are covered with the autographs of visitors, including that of the Emperor of Russia.

From this point the tourists were conveyed by the steamer to Waterland, from which they were to proceed by trekschuit to Broek.  This peculiar craft is a kind of drag-boat, much used for passengers and light freight on the canals of Holland.  It is a long, narrow barge, nearly the whole of which is taken up by a low cabin.  Above it is the hurricane deck, provided with a railing and benches to sit upon.  At each end is a flight of stairs, by which the main deck is reached and the cabins entered.  The ruim, or forward cabin, occupying the greater part of the space, is appropriated to the common people, while the roef, or after-cabin, is for the better class; but as genteel people seldom patronize the trekschuit, this apartment is very small.  It was drawn by horses, attached to a long rope made fast to the pole or mast, near the bow.  Like everything Dutch, the boat was fitted up very neatly, and the students were much interested in exploring it.

“Here we are, all on the raging canal!” said Terrill to his captain, as the team started.  “If it comes on to blow, we can take a reef in the forward horse.”

“Or in the het jagertje,” laughed Paul, who had been talking with Mr. Fluxion.

“We’ll take a reef in that now.  Don’t your teeth ache, captain?”

“No; that’s the boy that rides one of the horses.”

The canal was filled with boats loaded with market produce, drawn by men and women harnessed like mules to the tow-ropes.  Woman’s rights seemed to be particularly recognized in this part of Holland, for females are harnessed to the boats like horses, enjoying the same rights as the “lords of creation.”  The houses on the way were mostly cottages, whose steep roofs were often twice the height of the walls.  The stork, which the people cherish with a kind of superstitious reverence, was occasionally seen, but not so frequently as in the vicinity of The Hague, where he has a nest on the roof in a large proportion of the houses.

The boys were much interested in the navigation of the trekschuit.  Meeting another boat, the steersman shouted “Huy!” indicating that the other craft was to go to the right.  When the tow-boy of the approaching boat reached a certain point, he stopped his team, and the trekschuit horses passed over it, as the rope slacked.  He halted again to loose the rope for the barge to pass over.  Neither boat was stopped by the operation.  At the many bridges the rope was cast off, and made fast again, without any delay.

An hour and a half brought them to Broek, the paradise of Dutch neatness.  It is a village of eight hundred people, most of whom have “made their pile” and retired from business.  Neatness is carried to lunacy here, for no one is permitted to enter a house without taking off his shoes.  The narrow lanes and passages which serve as avenues are paved with brick, or with tiles of different colors, arranged in fantastic figures, and some are covered with sand and sea-shells, made up into patterns.  Strangers are warned not to ride through the place; they must walk, leading the horse.  The houses are mostly of wood, gaudily painted; the roofs are covered with glazed tile of various hues.

The cow-stables of the dairy farms are better than the houses of most of the poorer classes of Europe, having tiled floors, with everything “polished off” and sandpapered as nicely as though they were intended for drawing-rooms.  Over each stall is a hook, by which the cow’s tail is fastened up, so as to keep her neat and clean.

The students continued on their way from Breck to Alkmar,-which sustained a siege, and successfully resisted the Spaniards,-and thence to The Helder, a town of twelve thousand inhabitants, opposite the Texel.  The great ship canal to Amsterdam commences at this point, which is the only place on the coast of Holland where the deep water extends up to the shore, the tide rushing through from the Zuyder Zee keeping the passage open.  The party had an opportunity to examine the mighty sluices and gates, and to observe the stupendous dikes, before described by Mr. Mapps.  They visited the fortress erected by Napoleon with the intention of making The Helder the Gibraltar of the North.

On Thursday morning the tourists took the steamer, through the Great Canal, to Amsterdam.  Being obliged to wait an hour for the train to Utrecht, Paul visited one of the “diamond mills” of the city with Mr. Fluxion.  About five hundred men were employed in the establishment, and, as the business is exclusively in the hands of the Jews, the mills are closed on Saturday, and work on Sunday.  The art of cutting and polishing diamonds was for a long period exclusively in the hands of the Jews of Antwerp and Amsterdam.  There are quite a number of these manufactories in the city at the present time.  The machinery is operated by steam, turning wheels for polishing the precious stones, and propelling the wire saws for cutting them.

Diamond dust is the only substance with which an impression can be produced upon the hard stones, and they are polished by metal plates covered with this dust, and revolving with inconceivable rapidity.  The saw is a very fine wire, to which the dust is affixed.  This process appears to be the origin of the adage “diamond cut diamond.”  Before the fifteenth century, diamonds were worn in their natural state, and the art of cutting and polishing them was discovered by a native of Bruges.

The journey of the students was continued by railway to Utrecht.  Approaching this city, the country assumed a different aspect, presenting occasional undulations, while in the town itself there is quite a slope down to the River Rhine, on which it is located.  The treaty of Utrecht, which settled the peace of Europe after the war of the Spanish succession, was signed at the house of the British minister; but it has since been pulled down.  The principal object of interest in the city is the tower of the Cathedral of St. Martin, which is three hundred and twenty-one feet high, and commands a view of nearly the whole of Holland and a portion of Belgium.  The sexton has his residence more than a hundred and fifty feet above terra firma, where his family are domiciled, and where his children were born.  Doubtless they will be regarded as persons of high birth.

At five o’clock in the afternoon, the weary travellers reached the vessels of the squadron.  Holland “was done,” and the excitement was ended.  Many of them were tired out and cross, and it was a relief to know that the squadron would go to sea the next morning.  During the rapid run through Holland, Wilton and Perth had found abundant opportunities to discuss their mischievous scheme of running away with the Josephine.  They had so contrived it that eight of the Knights of the Golden Fleece had occupied a compartment by themselves in the railway carriages.  As the squadron would arrive at Havre on Friday or Saturday, no time was to be lost in arranging the details of the precious scheme, which had been fully explained and assented to by the confederates.

The first point to be gained was to “cut up,” so that the whole twenty-six Knights should be condemned to imprisonment on board the ship, while the rest of the students, with the instructors, went to Paris.  Mr. Hamblin was still the centre of all their hopes in this direction; for hazing him would enable them to kill two birds with one stone.  It was a great satisfaction to annoy him, independently of the result to be gained.  Wilton proposed to “keelhaul” him.  This was a barbarous punishment, formerly in use in the English and Dutch navies, and consisted in dragging the culprit under the keel of the vessel by ropes attached to the opposite yard-arms.  Perth declared that this was utterly impracticable, and a third suggested that it was only necessary to “talk” the matter in order to bring down the punishment upon their anxious heads.  Monroe, who always adopted moderate counsels, thought it would be just as well to frighten the old gentleman out of his wits.  Indeed, all, except Wilton, protested against inflicting any serious injury upon him.  A ducking, or something of that kind, would do him no harm; but they did not wish to hurt, only to annoy, him.

After supper the students felt a little brighter.  Mr. Hamblin was pacing the deck, as he always did towards evening, and Perth drummed together his forces to play the first act in the drama.  The names of the twenty-six Knights had been written down on a sheet of paper, and a dozen of them took position in the waist, with their backs to the professor.  Scarcely had the actors taken their places before the Josephine’s gig came alongside with Captain Kendall, who visited the ship to receive his instructions from the principal for the next day.

Paul stepped upon deck; but, perceiving that Mr. Lowington was engaged in an earnest conversation with Dr. Winstock, he did not interrupt him, but paused in the waist.  Of course the conspirators suspended operations, and Paul spent the time he was waiting in conversation with them about the wonders of Holland.  As he stood there, Mr. Hamblin cast frequent glances at him, and brooded heavily over the indignities which had been heaped upon his learned head by the young commander, as he believed.  Probably the current of his thoughts would have assumed a different direction if he had been aware that the principal and the surgeon were discussing the best means of “letting him down easily.”

Mr. Lowington at last discovered that Paul was waiting for him, and the difficult subject was deferred.  The captain of the Josephine went below with the principal, and the conspirators began to discuss in a very unguarded manner the process of keelhauling the obnoxious professor.  As the learned gentleman passed the group, he could not help hearing his name mentioned.  The boys soon became very earnest in their manner.  They had seated themselves under the lee of the hatch, and did not appear to notice the fact that Mr. Hamblin was passing on the other side of it at intervals.

“We’ll keelhaul him,” said Wilson; and the savant distinctly heard the remark, though he did not know what it meant; only that it was some trick to be played off upon him.

“If he didn’t hear that, he’s deaf as a post,” added Perth, as the professor passed on.

“He’ll leave the ship as soon as we have keelhauled him,” was the next remark which Mr. Hamblin heard.

Of course this meant himself; and he paused when he had satisfied himself that he was not observed.  As this was just what the conspirators wanted, they revealed their wicked scheme fully, though with some appearance of concealment.

“Here are the names of all the fellows who are to take part in the operation,” said Perth, flourishing the paper.  “The fellows with a cross against their names are to throw the old fellow down; those with a dash are to man the reef-pendants; those with a wave line are to make fast to him-”

That was all.  Mr. Hamblin made a plunge into the midst of the young rascals, and snatched the paper from the hands of the leader.  The conspirators sprung to their feet, and nothing could exceed the consternation depicted upon their faces.  They stood aghast, horrified, confounded.

“It was only a joke, sir,” stammered Perth, as the professor, with trembling hands and quivering lips, gazed at the paper, reading the names, and noting the signs against them.

“You villains, you!” gasped he.  “Keelhaul me-will you?”

“It was only in fun, sir.  We didn’t mean to do it, sir,” added Wilton.

Mr. Hamblin did not wait to hear any more.  He rushed aft, rushed down the companion-way, rushed into the main cabin, where the principal was just dismissing Paul.

“They are going to keelhaul me, next, Mr. Lowington!” exclaimed the learned gentleman, savagely.

“Pray, what is the trouble, Mr. Hamblin?” asked the principal, mildly.

The professor explained, exhibiting the list of names in evidence of his assertion.  Mr. Lowington was sceptical.  It was not possible that the boys could entertain such a monstrous proposition as that of keelhauling a learned professor.

“But I heard the plan myself, sir,” persisted Mr. Hamblin.  “I don’t know what keelhauling is, but that is the expression the scoundrels used.”

Mr. Lowington explained what it meant; and the savant, without considering the practicability or the possibility of subjecting him to such an operation, was filled with rage and horror.  The principal went on deck, and from the paper taken from Perth called the roll of the conspirators, summoning them to the mainmast.

“If you have no further instructions for me, sir, I will return to the Josephine,” said Paul, touching his cap to the principal.

“Mr. Lowington, Kendall is concerned in this affair,” interposed the professor, violently.

“I, sir!” exclaimed Paul, confounded by the charge.

“He is, sir; and I can prove it,” protested Mr. Hamblin, whose wrath had almost reached the boiling point.

“You can return to the Josephine, Captain Kendall,” added Mr. Lowington, in his quiet, decisive tone.

“Mr. Lowington, I protest-”

“Mr. Hamblin,” interposed the principal, sharply, “I will thank you to accompany me to the cabin;” and, turning, he walked to the companion-way, followed by the professor.

“I wish to say, Mr. Lowington, that I am not mistaken in regard to Kendall,” said the angry instructor, as they entered the main cabin.

“Without a doubt,you are mistaken, sir.”

“No, sir; I am not.  When he came on deck, he went immediately to that group of bad boys who were plotting to keelhaul me, and had a long conversation with them.  I watched him, sir.  My eye was hardly off him a moment.  I was looking for something of this kind.”

“And you found it.”

“Yes, sir; I did.”

“When people are looking for faults and errors in others, they usually find them,” added the principal, significantly.  “But I did not invite you to the cabin to consider that matter.”

“It seems to me this matter is properly the subject for discussion at the present time,” replied the professor, who thought the principal’s ways were past finding out.

“No; there is a subject of more importance than that, which must be attended to first.  I find it necessary to say that I am ready to accept your resignation of the situation you fill.”

“My resignation, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Hamblin, taken all aback by this unexpected announcement.

“Your resignation, sir.”

“This is very remarkable conduct on your part, sir.”

“On board of the Josephine, in the presence of the officers and crew, you protested against the action of Captain Kendall.  When I have called a large number of the students to the mainmast for discipline, you protest against my action.  I have to say, sir, that discipline, under these circumstances, is impossible.”

“Am I to understand that you discharge me, Mr. Lowington?” demanded the professor.

“I intimated that I was ready to accept your resignation.”

“Well, sir, I am not ready to offer my resignation.”

“Then you compel me to take the next step.  I object to your remaining on board another day.”

“I was engaged for a year.”

“With the proviso that we were mutually satisfied.  A fortnight ago you tendered your resignation, without regard to the engagement.  If I had understood your relations with the students as well then as I do now, I should have accepted it.”

Mr. Hamblin began to “subside.”  He had pretty thoroughly convinced himself that the institution could not be carried on without him; and, since the principal had once objected to accepting his resignation, he had felt that his position was secure.  While he was considering the matter, Mr. Lowington went on deck, and investigated the plot to keelhaul the professor.  The conspirators had talked over the matter during his absence, and had come to the conclusion that the truth would serve them best.  They were shrewd enough to see that there was a rupture between the principal and the savant.

Perth, as spokesman for the party, confessed that they knew Mr. Hamblin was listening to them; that they intended he should hear the plot, which they had not designed to execute; that it was only a trick to annoy him.

“Was Captain Kendall concerned in it?” asked Mr. Lowington.

“No, sir,” shouted the whole party.

“What were you talking about while he was with you?”

“About Holland, and what we had seen on our trip.  You were speaking with Dr. Winstock, and he was waiting to see you,” replied Perth.

The principal lectured them severely, and in earnest, for their misconduct; but he did not give them the coveted punishment of dooming them to remain on board while the rest of the students visited Paris.  He gave them bad marks enough to spoil all their chances, if they had any, of promotion, and the choice of desirable berths when the crew should be reorganized at the beginning of the next quarter, which would be in one month.  He added that he should preserve the list of names, and that the conduct of the party in the future would be closely observed.

“We were stupid,” whispered Perth to Wilton, as the principal retired.  “We have given him a list of all the Knights.”

“And he hasn’t stopped our liberty,” replied Wilton, in disgust.

“No matter; we must keep still, and fight for chances.”

When Mr. Lowington returned to the cabin, the professor was as cool as an iceberg; but the decision had been made, and it could not be reversed.  The principal reviewed Mr. Hamblin’s connection with the squadron from the beginning, and commented on his conduct in the consort and in the ship.  It was plain speech on both sides; but the result remained unchanged.

Professor Hamblin is not a myth.  He had no sympathy with the students, and, being arbitrary, tyrannical, and unjust, they “hated him with a perfect hatred.”  It was certainly best that he should go; for in whatever vessel he was, he kept it in a turmoil.  Mr. Lowington paid him his salary for a year, and enough in addition to defray the expenses of his return to the United States.

The next morning the signal for sailing was hoisted on board of the Young America, and the pilots came on board.  The students were bright and fresh, and having seen the dikes and ditches of Holland, they were rather anxious to escape from its muddy waters and its monotonous plains.  In fact, they sighed for another taste of blue water and the fresh sea air.

“All the barge’s crew on deck, ahoy!” piped the boatswain, at the order of the first lieutenant.

The boat’s crew repaired to their stations on the quarter, wondering what was to be done next.

The ship’s company, who were waiting for the order to weigh anchor, were vexed at the delay which the trip of the boat to the shore indicated, and waited impatiently to learn what was going to happen.  One of the stewards brought up Mr. Hamblin’s trunk, and presently the professor himself appeared with his overcoat on his arm, and his cane and umbrella in his hand.  There was a decided sensation among the crew.  The barge was lowered and placed in charge of the third lieutenant.  Mr. Hamblin bowed stiffly and coldly to the other professors, and followed his baggage into the boat, taking no notice whatever of any of the students.

The sensation grew upon the boys as the boat pushed off and appeared beyond the ship’s side.  It was a delightful picture to them-the obnoxious professor seated in the stern sheets, with his trunk before him.  It was emblematic of the final separation.  The enthusiasm of the moment could not be repressed; and before the principal could interfere, it had vented itself in three tremendous and hearty cheers.  Mr. Lowington was vexed, but the deed was done.

The barge passed within a short distance of the Josephine, and her crew, seeing the trunk and the professor, understood the cheers, and repeated them with all the vigor of their lungs.  It was impudent, disrespectful, and naughty; but the same students, in both vessels, would have wept over the departure of any other of the professors.

The boat returned, the sails were cast loose, the anchor weighed, and in due time both vessels were standing down the river.  At noon the pilots were discharged, off the Hock of Holland.

“South-west by west,” said the first master of the ship, giving out the course to the quartermaster, who was conning the wheel.

There was only a lazy breeze in the German Ocean, and the squadron rolled slowly along towards the Straits of Dover.  The watch below were at their studies in the steerages, while the students on deck were thinking of Paris, and the new scenes which were to be presented to them in the countries they were next to visit.  Their experience during the following month, on ship and shore, including the runaway cruise of the Josephine, will be narrated in PALACE AND COTTAGE, OR YOUNG AMERICA IN FRANCE AND SWITZERLAND.