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Monday 18th May 1959
CONTRIBUTORS: GODFRIED ROMANS, J. J. DE GELDER, E. HELDRING, OLGA HELDRING, OLGA VAN MARLE, MARIA WILKINS.
Wishing you a good morning and hoping
that you are rested well after yesterday's
bustle, we, for the last time, offer you our paper
with information about today's program.
We will leave the town for a trip to „Water
land", an appropriate name for this district of
North-Holland, as it consists of meadows with
many and varied patches of water, pools and
lakes, and is intersected by ditches and canals.
Here ancient towns slumber after a more active
life in the seventeenth century and some villa
ges and small settlements, some solitary farms
pursue their existence, waiting for their des
tiny. The meadowland is animated by birdlife:
lapwings and godwits in springtime fill the air
with their shrill noise, mingled with the cry of
the blackheaded gulls who float over; and the
skylark showers a rain of melody.
Nature has laid the foundarion of Holland,
its ever active powers, water and wind started
the game many thousandas of years before our
era, stowing bottomsand out of the ocean on
to a long stretch of remnants of an older conti
nent still sticking out of the floods. So, slowly,
the dunes assumed their shape.
Mankind finished the work. One of the first
maps of Holland North of the Y, engraved
about the year 1600 with great care by the able
Amsterdam artist Balthasar Florisz. shows on
the western side a small stretch of acnient soil,
a ridge that defined the boundary of the sands.
The map shows the disjointed and mean state
of the province: There is almost more water
than land. Compare this with a map of the
present time and you see how great a deal of
our day's territory is artificial. It is a remarkable
fact that our fathers shaped their country
whilst they fought for its liberty against the
world power of Spain. This tough resistance
against tyrannty came from the same people
that struggled with another tyrant, the surroun
ding water, a struggle that had already lasted
many centuries and is still going on. This eter
nal contest has influenced deeply the soul of our
people this and the sea itself and gave it
the charasteric qualities of patience and per
severance. We have a subconscious perception
of the momentous significance of our dikes. A
disaster like the one of 1953, when a whole pro
vince fell a victim to the floods appealed strong
ly to our imagination, roused an enormous
sympathy and assistance, and the submerged
grounds were reclaimed in a very short time.
After all those aquatic considerations you
won't be shocked if we tell you (in strict confi
dence) that you have been sleeping in a bog all
these nights and that the legs of your bedstead
are not the only props that keep you out of the
water, for the house itself stands we could
say: on its own legs, to wit the piles that are
rammed through the soft upper layer deep
down in the firm soil beneath.
Fancy the street alongside your hotel could
be laid open, without desbroying the house
an uncomfortable fancy like one has in
dreams a pit had to be dug to a depth of at
least 30 feet or more. And fancy that the
groundwater in that pit did not well upward
as it inevitably would the sight of the
many long fir-stems under the foundation
would, if not astonish you (for now you are
warned) but at least impress you more so
than was our dear Pickwick's amazement at
the discovery of Bill Stumps his stone.
And the awe-impelling fact is that all the
town's houses rest on piles. The number of
them under the Royal Palace on the Dam is
said to be 13659, quite a forest! Those piles
want to be kept under water, consequently
there is a unique institution in Amsterdam, that
controls daily the height of the groundwater.
The Town's Water Office is established in the
ancient defence-tower of Montalbaen on the
Oude Schans. If the water sank one yard, the
piles would rotten off and the town tumble
down.
Amsterdam, in the time of its glory, when it
was the first commercial town of Europe, stood
open to the sea that dashed on its threshold
seals have been reported swimming in the
canals.
From the Damrak harbouring small
cargo and fishing-boats, you saw a forest of
masts and all the stir of ocean-sailing craft.
Access to the open sea was then Eastward,
beyond Edam, Hoorn and Enkhuizen to enter
the North-Sea south of the isle of Tessel.
But the mouth of the Y sanded up and in
the nineteenth century the North-Sea canal
was cut, shortening the distance to sea.
The extent of the Y was reduced; part of it
was laid dry; on the Southside new islands were
made for the construction of new quays and
then, shutting away the water from view of
the Central Station; lastly a dam with sluices
was cast up against the influx of the Zuiderzee.
And now for our trip. We go by bus to
Monnikendam, by boat to Marken and Volen-
dam and return by bus via Edam.
Leaving the town on the Eastside, we cross
the new bridge which links the two banks of
the Y. The building of this huge structure with
the accessory roads and a second bridge was
accomplished in two years. It is situated East
of the sluices. The complete work is more than
4 miles long. From somewhere on this shore
an artist, a pupil of Rembrandt, made this
view of Amsterdam:
You see the enormous sheet of water in
front of the distant town, a picture of quietude
in vivid contrast with the present condition.
A Waterland peasant, going with two wooden
buckets to his meadow for milking, found the
artist busy with his drawing. Of course he had
a chat with him and was asked to stand model
for a moment, his figure furnishing a splendid
With this number goes to-day's bottled
profundity:
If you are wed, Sir, to some Sally Brass
or Mrs. Gamp, and meet a lovely lass,
don't drown yourself in one of our canals;
take BOLS and drown your
[sorrows in a glass.
set-off, accentuating the space to which he turn
ed his back.
Our busses speed Northward through a
detached part of the town, that covers more and
more the pristine meadows. We soon pass
Broek in Waterland, a village that in the eigh
teenth century was a select dweilingplace of
retired sea-captains, wealthy peasants and
distinguished merchants. It is of early date,
mentioned in the thirteenth century. When the
Reformation penetrated the Low Countries it
found here many adherents. It is a small
place with a quantity of eighteenth century
wooden houses; one, the Broekhuis, is a
museum. It had a reputation of great wealth
and has been a squeamish and overparticular
place: no carriages were tolerated there, people
moved only on foot, tobaccopipes without a
cover were prohibited, all this to keep the
streets clean, and even nowadays they have a
yearly survey to make sure that inhabitants
tread upon clean roads. Next to the church
they have preserved up to now the pillory
It would perhaps be advisable for visitors
not to be careless with cigarette-butts.
The square of water, visible to the left before
we reach the houses along the road, is now a
pond but was a port when it had an outlet to
sea.