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was forever quelled for Dutchmen, in 1648, after eighty years' struggle, was the superb City Hall, now the Palace, reared. "Called the eighth wonder of the world," it stands on over 13,000 piles.

The Hague is the residence of the Queen, but Amsterdam is the city where sovereign and people exchange vows of mutual loyalty. After hours spent in seeing the guard drill and in studying the crowd while waiting on our tribune, or platform, directly opposite the veranda on which Wilhelmina was to stand, the joyful boom of the cannon announced her coming. The military, sailors, infantry, and cavalry first moved in and filled the square. Then, in a carriage drawn by eight horses with postiliors, appeared two ladies; one young and fair, in white; the other substantial in years and figure, dressed in silk of a heliotrope shade. Bowing right and left, waving her little pocket - handkerchief, Wilhelmina seemed not only overflowing with happiness herself, but she put the clouds of spectators on the houses and the people below into a state of unmeasured delight. She rode around the square, disappeared for a few moments in the one doorway made different from the others only by a velvet canopy-for the Palace has no one imposing entrance--and then reappeared on the veranda. Then all banners dipped, swords gleamed, and muskets were held to a "present." Yet this was not all, for the Queen herself had arranged to meet her own people at even closer range. So the military were dismissed, and then, with order and deliberation, the longheld-back masses in the streets leading to the Dam moved into the space, and eighty thousand throats uttered welcome to the sweet lady in white who appeared on the balcony. "Leve de Koningin!" was the cry.

On Tuesday the elect of Netherlands and

the guests from many countries gathered in the Nieuwe Kerk. My own seat was directly over the middle aisle and in front of the throne chair on the great platform. Embroidered coats, orders, and decorations on the breasts of men of achievement, all the pomp and splendor of the heroes of army and navy, all the gorgeousness of richly gowned and jeweled ladies, were there. The purple and black of the Roman Catholic Bishops, the Lutheran and Reformed pastors in caps and robes, the Jewish rabbis, the consuls, the gold-collared members of the States-General, made enough variety in color; but the Chinese envoys, the diplomatic corps, the vassal princes of East India, were dazzling in bullion, color, fea'hers, swords, or medals. It must not be forgotten that Queen Wilhelmina rules, besides her six million Du'ch subjects, about thirtyfive millions of the Malay race in the East Indian archipelago. Holland is the greatest colonizing nation after Great Britain. The Sultan of Siak-I should need two lines to write his full name and titles-and the deputed envoys of other Malay sultans, and the large delegation from the Far East, with their odd head-gear and golden garments, have made

a striking feature in all the spectacles of this week. By eleven o'clock the redcovered platform was filled with grandees, and the Queen-mother, who rode from the Palace, was in her seat next on the left to the chair soon to be filled. Wilhelmina, with her usual democratic determination, had willed to walk from the Palace to the chair occupied before her by her father and grandfather. So, after a storm of popular cheering heard outside, we saw the lovely maiden in white and diamonds, wearing over her breast an orange scarf with a glittering star, and the velvet and ermine robe of royalty sweeping from her shoulders.



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Its train was held up and then duly spread after she had taken her seat. About her stood her cabinet, ministers, and flag-bearers; in front sat her legislators. Between both, on the red-velvet-covered table, were, indeed, the crown and sphere, emblems of royalty, but in the center and supreme was the Grondwet, the written constitution of the nation.

Almost as simple as an American inauguration was this of the Dutch Queen, in a kingdom that secures even more liberty than was known in the republic of 1579-1792. It consisted mainly of a wonderfully clear and strong address, by a young girl who in person and carriage looked every inch a queen, and the mutual exchange of oaths of obedience to the constitution by her and the members of her States-General. The whole ceremony lasted less than an hour. There was some music. Then all flags dipped, and, in a storm of cheers, the waving of hats, cries of "Live the Queen," the auditors slowly separated, delighted with the dignity, sweetress, and power to win hearts shown by the maid who so nobly incarnates the spirit and virtues of a noble house. The blending of girlish simplicity, womanly dignity, and a true wisdom and insight, shown in her speeches, carriage, and acts, augurs happily for the Netherlands. Especially careful has she been to please the people, the sailors, country-folk, fishermen and women, and the islanders who have come to see the sights, and the sight of all the first lady of the Vaderland. Both in the afternoon and in the evening, mother and daughter rode through decorated Amsterdam, when the sky was almost hid from view by flags, festoons, arches, and mid-air fantasies, in which, with the red, white, and blue, was everywhere seen the orange. At night the double glory of reality and reflection along the canals and the white spangles and blazing frontlets of fire made a scene indescribable.

Even the Dutch Puritans never parted with their organs, music, and art. On Wednesday morning, arrayed in light green, Wilhelmina, on the palace veranda, listened to the old national airs and the new anthems, one or two of which are by the venerable Nicholas Beets, author of " Camera Obscura," and living, at the age of eighty-six, in Utrecht. After morning music a great Volksfeest was held in the vast arena back of the Rijks Museum, where, before her Majesty, the gymnastic societies from all over the country marched, dipped banners, and exhibited skill and prowess in muscle. None of Diedrich

Knickerbocker's men of the beer-barrel model, or of Irving's caricatures, could be seen here, but only clean-limbed, handsome manhood. One beautiful sight was the flight of fifteen hundred homing pigeons.

Then followed a striking costume procession, in which the makers of Dutch history moved in charming counterfeit before our eyes. Warriors and statesmen, stadholders and kings, painters, explorers, printers, living pictures, that had apparently just left the canvas and frames of Rembrandt and Jan Steen, marched by in the exact dress of the various periods. How we did pity them as they weltered in the blazing sun, under wig and helmet and lofty hat! The Arctic discoverers had the worst of it, in their polarbear skin and seal coats; but the fellows in shining brass and glued or wired-on mustachios also compelled pity. Next day, behind the scenes, Prince Frederick Henry of the twenty-four hours previous, now a plain mynheer in every-day clothes, confessed to me how nearly he came to suffocation, and how early he went to bed, missing even the river-illumination and fireworks-at which so many aliens took vile colds. I question whether any water-fête was ever finer on earth than that seen on the Y river, September 7, from 8 to 11 P.M. Gondolas, junks, galleons, yachts, steamers, every shape and size of boat, hung with lights numbering from one to twenty thousand, moved over the water, while royalty, the populace, and foreign guests rapturously enjoyed the scene.

The next day, after her Majesty had inspected the heirlooms of her ancestors in the Orange-Nassau Exposition, I saw her again in the magnificent Concert Gebouw. She was dressed in figured white satin, with pink flowers in her hat corresponding to those wrought in her skirt. The King's widow, as Emma is now styled, was in her favorite dress of lavender or heliotrope shade, richly embroidered with light-tinted flowers. Both, as usual, held bouquets of flowers. On the immense stage, backed by an organ which is one of the finest in Europe, and played by a master, sat seven hundred singers and players on instruments. The cantata in praise of the Queen, the touching soprano solos by Mrs. Reddingius, the sublime Twentythird Psalm by half a hundred virgins in white, the songs by Holland's ablest tenor, and the Hallelujah chorus were rendered with amazing spirit and excellence of technique. In a round of pleasurable functions like a

crown of brilliants in memory, Wilhelmina's light a panorama of history and a gallery of Orange leaders, with the portrait-figure of Wilhelmina. At this all rose with the cry, "Leve de Koningin!" Amid the storm of homage, the graceful maiden stood with dignity, and then, bowing sweetly with smiles, made exit.

presence and speech at the inauguration gleams first; but next, in personal enjoyment, was my sight of the Queen at the dramatic representation of "Orange in Netherlands," on Thursday evening. I do not know to whom I was indebted for the honor, but I sat near enough to royalty to note the dimples in her elbows and the play of rose and white in her cheeks. Certainly in evening dress, amid the flashing lights, she could not look more handsome, and every movement seemed grace itself. In the audience sat the Javanese princes, members of the Cabinet, the royal governors of the provinces, the great burgomasters, and most of the leading men of the Government, with their wives and daughters. The hour's tableaux and dialogues showed the scene of July 9, 1672, when it seemed as if, before the dangers from the invading hosts of the French and Louis XIV., and the quarrels of Tromp (which Britons, with traditional and almost sacred inaccuracy, write with a l'an) and De Ruyter, Holland was to be crushed out of existence and the House of Orange come to desinence through disaster. William III., his gayly attired admirals, the regents of Holland's grandest city, the Scheveningen fish-vrouw, Holland's matroos (sailor), and the village folk, were all finely represented with spirit and art. The acting was superb. While in his grief and dejection, the genius of the House of Orange, a white-robed woman on the seashore, consoles the stadholder, and prophesies that he will wear the crown of England, and that, despite storm and stress, both Holland and the House of Orange will live on in glory through the ages. Then, after marvelous mechanical effects and the soft, sweet music of the Wilhelmus Lied, there bursts into glowing

To-day, Friday, the pageant and festivities are transferred to the Hague, and among other features is a solemn religious service in the Great Church, in which Wilhelmina was baptized, and where, in centuries gone (despite the very ornamental modern iron spire, like fashion's notion of yesterday on a centenarian's head), William I., Maurice, Barneveldt, Frederick Henry, and her other ancestors worshiped. Illumination by night and all sorts of festivities by day will run into next week. A banquet and fireworks at Scheveningen, receptions, honors, and enjoyments of various sorts, including a lunch with Mesdag, the painter, with a round of excursions, await the gentlemen and ladies of the press.

On Sunday, September 11, in the English church in the Beguijn Hof, where, since Amsterdam declared for the Reformation, speakers of our tongue, including not a few of the founders of New England, have worshiped, a commemorative service is to be held; one of the addresses is to be on Divine Providence in the History of the Netherlands and the United States, ard the relations between the two peoples.

"Klein maar Dapper" was the motto of a band of boys whom I saw parading on the Dam square. Such is Holland-Little, but brave. Certainly God has used this small nation to accomplish great purposes. May Holland's future be even greater than her past!

The Hague, September 9, 1898.

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