It is in the old towns of Holland that the architectural expression of the Dutch people is to be sought. Theirs was an intimate and human architecture, concerned with everyday events, and it developed out of the civil and domestic life. Many of the towns continue to be busy and prosperous, and new buildings here and there crowd in upon the picturesque groups of houses that for centuries have clustered round the great churches and market-places: in others, the active days of commerce are over, the merchants come no more, and the streets and waterways are quiet. But all Dutch towns having any pretension to age possess, to a wonderful degree, what may be termed an old-world atmosphere. Much of their charm, it is true, is due to the rivers and canals that encircle and intersect them in all directions, imparting a sense of quaintness and novelty; but it is the extraordinary number of old buildings still existing, unchanged in form since the days when they were erected and mellowed by ages of sun and rain, that ever appeal to the eye and imagination. The fantastic gables and red roofs, above which rise slender spires and belfries surmounted by leaden flÈches and wrought vanes, together with the waterways and canal life, the windmills, and changing skies, are as characteristic now as when the masters of the great Dutch School of painting were living and working. Such scenes were to them inspiration; to picture the intimate events associated was their delight. If the painters have gone—and with them the arquebusiers and governors and burgomasters—the gables, the sunlit courts, and many other familiar features remain.

The peculiar geographical conditions that have always existed in Holland have affected in no small degree the development of the land and the temperament of the people. Most of the country is below sea level. Behind the dunes and dykes the sea threatens inundation; the fear of accident by flood has kept the nation watchful and in perpetual war with its ancient enemy. The influence of this natural check has been far-reaching. It has produced the system of canals, determined the character of the landscape, made accordant life and work, method, regularity and order, and brought philosophy and fortitude to the national mind. In the domain of building, as in other spheres, water has been a powerful underlying agent affecting the evolution of style, just as the mountains, forests and deserts of other countries have imparted distinction to architecture.

Side by side with the external conditions imposed by Nature, conditions that, if accepted, might well be expected to have produced an attitude of extreme lack of initiative in those living amongst them, the Dutch have ever been an enterprising people. The same spirit that defied and conquered the inroads of the sea characterised their dealings in the domain of commerce. Trade was to them the great business of life. From very early times, and continuing for a long period, the prosperity of the Low Countries was foremost in Europe. The towns became centres of busy and pulsative life, the homes of virile civil and domestic communities. Many old buildings still existing, town halls, weigh houses, trade and guild halls, warehouses and merchants’ premises, bear witness to those strenuous days. An architecture in close touch with the events of the times developed through, and by reason of the successes achieved by industry and sustained advances of conquest and colonization.

The phase of domestic art which is reviewed in this volume was essentially the expression of a nation urgently concerned with the material, matter-of-fact side of everyday life, and bore close kindred to its needs, its aspirations and its achievements; it was corporeal rather than spiritual in aspect, reflective of the market-place, the fireside and the home. And while the continuous building tradition of certain other countries was allied to ecclesiasticism, or was a movement instigated by the aristocracy, in Holland it was democratic in general trend, an art bound up in the interests of the people and existing for their good and welfare. It was urban rather than rural in its principles. Unlike the English growth, where the native building art developed vigorously and lingered longest in the countryside—as many an old village, manor-house or farm will demonstrate—the equivalent vernacular Dutch development was pre-eminently of the towns, and trade was the influence that gave it life. In a country notable for its manufactures and commercial activities men congregated together for mutual gain. A sturdy race they were, unimpressionable, but kindly and charitable, and their comfortable homes were in keeping with their temperament.

To better appreciate the course of architectural development, it will be well to briefly cite the main circumstances connected with these towns and with the country’s history. Records of Dutch towns prior to the twelfth century are scanty, although at that time orderly government had begun to develop. Then followed the municipal charters, many dating from the thirteenth century. These charters were granted by the feudal lords to the townspeople and secured to them certain rights and protection in return for taxation and levies; justice was administered by various governing bodies and magistrates, and the municipal finances were properly supervised. There thus grew up a strong communal movement which was steadily developed and strengthened. Then it was that the cities began their era of great prosperity and each became practically self-governing and semi-independent. Revenue was derived from the river commerce and markets, over-sea trading, and from the industries which were fostered. So powerful did they become, so energetic was their municipal life, so well organised their trade, that these cities came to be reckoned, together with the neighbouring towns of Flanders, the most prosperous and wealthy in the world. As time went on the chief cities became members of the Hanseatic League, which influential association embraced trading colonies in places as far apart as London, Visby on the island of Gotland, Novgorod the Great in Russia, Hamburg, Amsterdam and Kampen on the Zuider Zee. Through the impetus of this remarkable movement, the long-continued commercial relations between England and Holland were established. About the middle of the thirteenth century Hanse merchants settled in London, obtained privileges from Henry III., founded the Steelyard, and there developed a flourishing trade. The intercourse between the two countries was very considerable, and it was of the utmost importance to the Netherlands that nothing should happen to weaken their good relations with England. For England was then the principal wool-producing country of Europe, the only place, in fact, able to supply it in large quantities, and the men of the Low Countries, famed above all for their skill as weavers and depending upon the woollen industry for their greatest wealth, were eager buyers of English wool in the raw state. In the fifteenth century, through dissension and war, the cities of Holland were ejected from the Hanseatic League; but the Dutch, with their fine ships and business acumen, continued to prosper and carried their conquests by trade into far-distant lands.

It was while at the height of their material success that the provinces of Holland came under the dominion of the house of Burgundy. The peculiar independent constitution of the cities promoted rivalry between them, rather than a common national interest which would have been best for the preservation of their just rights. They were heavily taxed and oppressed and were continually at variance with the ruling power, fighting for the redress of their grievances. By the first half of the sixteenth century the kingdom of the Netherlands had passed to the Emperor Charles V., King of Spain, and Philip, his son, inherited his father’s throne. He thereby became monarch of vast territories. Philip determined to utterly subjugate the provinces and carried out a policy of relentless persecution. The people rebelled, brutal punishment followed, and they became victims of the worst excesses of the Inquisition. Deeds of cruelty, tyranny and murder, almost unparalleled in history, were enacted. In those dark days arose that great champion of the people, “William the Silent,” Prince of Orange, the “father of his fatherland.” Intent on defending the liberties of the nation, he gathered around him a company of gallant spirits, and, principally at his own expense, commenced what at first appeared to be a hopeless struggle. But early victories, hardly won, roused a cowed populace to action. The nation embarked upon the memorable Eighty Years’ War, which resulted in the Spanish yoke being overthrown and the founding of the Dutch Republic. William was basely assassinated at Delft in 1584, and Maurice, his second son, succeeded him as Stadtholder. He was ambitious, shrewd, and skilled in the arts of war, and under his rule, and that of his brother Frederick Henry, who succeeded him in 1625, the fortunes of the Dutch gradually rose high. Through times of trial and suffering, hardships endured and conquests won, they emerged valorous and strong, a nation of heroes. Triumphs of arms by land and sea, successes of the merchant fleets and navigators who explored remote parts of the world, the founding of colonies, and ingenuity on the part of the workers in home manufactures, characterised a notable period of great prosperity; the Dutch became supreme in trade, chief rulers of the sea, and accumulated vast wealth. As the seventeenth century advanced commercial welfare continued to increase. Admirals Tromp and De Ruyter swept the seas, gaining brilliant naval victories; in 1667 the safety of London itself was threatened by the appearance of the Dutch fleet in the Thames. But the mastery of the sea eventually passed to England and from that time the fortunes of the Dutch declined. The election of William III.—who had married Princess Mary, daughter of the Duke of York—to the English throne in 1689 marked the close of Holland’s greatest days.

Early Dutch secular architecture is in the spirit of the late Gothic style. The most valuable monuments of that period are the civic buildings which herald a time when public life—as opposed to ecclesiastical—assumed an importance and dignity capable of being symbolized in brick and stone; when power acquired by trade found expression in its own distinctive forms, and the wealthy burghers of the towns erected municipal buildings which stand for all time as the embodiment of their ideals. Such is the Town Hall at Middelburg by Ant. Keldermans the Younger, one of that famous family of architects of Malines. It is a stone erection of fine proportions, enriched with a wealth of detail, sculptured figures, sunk panelling and many turrets; tiers of dormers break up the roof surface and the whole is surmounted by a noble and boldly conceived tower. At Veere, not far distant, is a smaller example (opposite) built in 1474 by another member of the Keldermans family. While owning some similarity to its fellow at Middelburg, the treatment is simpler, but the proportions are exquisite, and the peculiar grace of the belfry is outstanding. The characteristic richness of surface decoration which was then common may also be seen on the sandstone faÇade of the “Gemeenlandshuis” at Delft, with its elaborate traceries and parapet belonging to the early sixteenth century. The aforementioned are stone buildings and betray the influence of French Gothic, but the especially individual Netherlandish interpretation of Gothic was developed in the brick architecture. Brickwork was much employed and the nature of the material—not so responsive as stone in the hands of the craftsmen—limited the possibilities of ornamental treatment. Detail had to be simplified and adapted to the means available for carrying it out; the example from Nijmegen (p. 11), dated 1544, furnishes an instance of how it was handled. It is in this early brickwork that the germs of the Dutch transitional Renaissance style are to be traced; its root principles were derived not only from the public buildings, but from the churches also—vast piles whose bold masses and ornaments were logically developed out of the material, and whose millions of little bricks, jointed together, stand as impressive memorials of patient labour.

MediÆval domestic work followed in the wake of the civic. Not many examples remain. Of those that have survived most belong to the late fifteenth or the first half of the sixteenth century. The current forms of the period were employed—panelling and projecting surface decoration, more often in brickwork than stone; arched window-heads ornamented with tracery; circular brick turrets surmounted by conical roofs; stepped gables having pinnacles rising from the copings; steep roofs pierced by dormers; and the somewhat florid, rich, but carefully wrought detail.

In contrast to the scarcity of Gothic domestic buildings, those of the Transitional period—from Gothic to Renaissance—are very numerous. Many examples are to be found in the old towns where rows of houses, much out of the perpendicular, rise from the canalsides and paved roadways. They are narrow and very high and are surmounted by gables which are often of fantastic shape and curious outline, picturesque from the draughtsman’s point of view and full of subject for the painter. Strange though it now seems, and quite beyond reasonable explanation, the greatest art movement that Holland has ever known flourished at the close of those troublous times when she was at war with Spain. It was then that the painters, with startling suddenness, came into their full powers, and Hals, Rembrandt, Van der Helst, Gerard Dou, Paul Potter, Jan Steen, Ruysdael and De Hooch, with a host of brilliant companions, followed in quick succession. They created a new art, a school of painting with original conceptive views and unrivalled executive skill. Contemporaneously with this artistic activity developed the peculiarly specific Dutch style of domestic architecture. Existing examples prove how energetically the building craft was then carried on, and show how its characteristics were matured during the closing years of the sixteenth century and onwards through the century following. Many of the Town Halls and Weigh Houses, which set the fashion for the private dwellings, are of this time; Leiden 1598, Haarlem 1602, Nijmegen 1612, Bolsward 1614, Workum 1650, and numerous others.

It was in the sixteenth century that the influence of the Renaissance gained ground in Holland, and with it came new canons and new impulses, revived interest in classical literature and art. And in connection with it, it is significant to note that Erasmus, one of the most distinguished of the Humanists, was born at Rotterdam in 1466; during a life of much travel and varied residence he was often in the Low Countries, prosecuting his own self-culture and advocating his doctrines.

The Transitional period lasted long and the buildings associated with it in many ways resemble those of England, erected in the style known as Elizabethan. The real significance of the revolutionary Renaissance art was not grasped or understood. The Gothic form of house long held its own and to it was added the heavy Dutch interpretation of the newer style, a rendering showing French rather than Italian feeling. But nevertheless, however well or ill applied, the use of Classic motifs in architecture became a firmly-established and general practice.

But the great changes in religious and intellectual thought that transpired during the sixteenth century did not so quickly influence the domain of architecture as might be supposed. No sudden breach with the inherited style occurred, although the ancient life and faith were passing. The Gothic tradition, which had been handed down from generation to generation, continued on. The national temperament was opposed to innovation, and the Dutch people clung to that which had been evolved through long years of experiment; they were unwilling to give up those forms that had been satisfying to their forefathers. So the new fashion in architecture was at first but tardily accepted and made little headway against the olden practices. Early tentative efforts were confined to novelties of detail introduced in gable ornaments, window-heads and doorways; the traditional forms of building remained unaltered, and fresh types of ornament were simply added to them for no very definite or intelligent reason. As time went on the Renaissance influence gradually became more established, but there was evidently no unanimity of opinion on the merits of it. Some looked upon it with favour; others viewed it with suspicion and preferred to keep to that which had served so well for preceding generations. As a consequence, the development was not uniform throughout the country. Thus a house at Alkmaar, bearing the late date of 1673, has arched window-heads and step gable terminated with a pointed arch quite in the Gothic manner; while a faÇade erected at Zwolle one hundred and two years earlier unmistakably betrays its Classic origin by the details with which it is adorned.

After a changeful period, during which the architectural impulses were halting between the acceptance of the new and the retention of the old, men who directed public taste eventually adopted what they understood to be the Renaissance ideas. Behind them was a strong tide of inherited tradition which continued to flow on. To it they brought their own interpretation of the new movement, and the two forces ran side by side for many years.

Foremost among the earlier architects who turned to classicism for fresh inspiration were Lieven de Key, Hendrik de Keyzer and Cornelius Danckerts. Hendrik de Keyzer was born at Utrecht in 1565 and died at Amsterdam in 1621. He was appointed architect to the city of Amsterdam in 1594, and his name is connected with buildings both in that town and elsewhere. One of his most notable works is the monument erected at Delft to the memory of William the Silent. Cornelius Danckerts was associated with de Keyzer and lived from 1561 to 1631. Born at Ghent about the year 1560, Lieven de Key worked principally at Haarlem and Leiden. He was the author of the celebrated Meat Market at Haarlem, a remarkable building which has evoked both praise and disparagement; it was completed in 1603. He was responsible for the design of other civic buildings as well as numerous private dwellings. Such men as these had their followers and founded schools of architecture in the places of their professional activities. There was thus a vigorous body of men working at Haarlem; while Amsterdam, which had become virtually the political and commercial capital as well as the centre of the arts, had its own assembly of architects who were particularly energetic in the city and exercised great influence in the adjacent districts. The results of their accomplishments are still apparent, and the many large and sober gabled houses suggest to the imagination the comparative splendour of seventeenth-century Amsterdam.

The buildings of this period are quaint and charming. If somewhat lacking in serious architectonic qualities, they are inseparably connected with the national sentiments; they stand as lasting evidences of human emotion expressed through the medium of brick and stone. The streets lined with ancient houses are witnesses of a great past, and bring to remembrance those strong and earnest men who honoured hearth and threshold and fought to save their fatherland from tyranny and threatened ruin. Above all, the structures bear upon them the impress of the intellectual life which was concerned with their production. The work itself is thoroughly Dutch in character, full of suggestion, and the materials are well handled. That of the early Renaissance is the best, and in it the two streams of thought—mediÆval and classic—are seen harmoniously blended. A good example from Leiden, by Lieven de Key, is illustrated opposite; signs of the new influence are obvious in the details, yet it has the traditional form of stepped gable; while there is a freedom of handling discernible in the disposition of the ground floor features which was dictated by convenience rather than symmetrical arrangement. All the work, however, was not so reasonable as this. Gables of extraordinary and curious outline began to appear, remarkable certainly for fertility of invention, but often lacking in delicacy and restraint. Isolated stone ornaments, unconnected with constructive principles, were applied to vacant wall spaces. They were decorated with lion-heads, armorial bearings, strapwork, cartouches, winged heads and panels in relief, all vigorously carved. Many of the subjects were seemingly derived from published pattern books and decorative designs, and lack that independence of conception which distinguishes all inspired craftsmanship.

Evidence goes to prove that the men who made the designs for the buildings had not yet become detached from the building trades. They were not architects within the present meaning of that term. They were described as masons, stonecutters, and the like, and no doubt were master-builders who, in addition to supplying the design, had a personal hand in the execution of the work of their own particular craft. The idea that a trained director should conceive the work as a whole, and marshal all the supplementary arts to proper subjugation, had not yet been evolved. Architecture as a separate force was not recognised.

Results automatically grew out of the united efforts of the sculptors, bricklayers, carpenters and masons who were engaged on the same production. So de Key, in addition to acting as a designer, was the city mason of Haarlem; H. de Keyzer was sculptor to the city of Amsterdam; and these are typical instances of the conditions then prevailing. It is also not surprising to find in this country, where government by municipalities was so well developed, that the architects were often official servants of the towns. Two such are mentioned above; Dryfhout was town architect of Middelburg, and Ambrosius van Hanenberch held a similar position at ’s Hertogenbosch.1 The demand for qualified men to protect and guide the public artistic needs was appreciated, a wise and excellent practice from which present-day authorities in England might well take a lesson.

With the advancing seventeenth century came a keener desire for the employment of purer forms of Renaissance art. Architects turned their thoughts to the Italian ideal, which they modified, yet preserved in its essential characteristics. Chief among the exponents of the developed style were Jacob van Campen and Phillippus Vinckboons, both of Amsterdam; and Pieter Post of Haarlem. The massive Town Hall of Amsterdam—now the Royal Palace—by van Campen, is one of the most important buildings of this period. It was erected between the years 1648 and 1655. But the severe classic ideas, directing towards uniformity and symmetrical arrangements, were never really at home, nor did they displace the weakening influence of inherited tradition. In the general mass of work the Dutch national genius continued to assert itself. Up to the time when the native architecture became devoid of character and personality, the houses and trade buildings in which the people lived and worked—even if of strange appearance or sometimes fantastic beyond description—retained an unmistakable flavour of the vernacular and owned something of that playfulness and quaint invention that were the heritage of mediÆval times.

It is fitting to conclude this Introduction by referring to the effect of Dutch upon English architecture. For our style of domestic building has in the past owed something to knowledge gained from the Low Countries; details have been derived from the Dutch and their practices adopted. Most obviously the influence is to be seen in the Eastern counties, although it penetrated more or less throughout the country; Staffordshire can show it as well as Norfolk, Wiltshire as well as Kent. To those men of the Netherlands who early engaged in English commerce the germs of this influence are to be traced. Not that many of these foreigners were actively connected with the building trades, but, during a long period of trading intercourse and settlement by merchants and artisans, they, as a matter of course, left distinct impressions of their own ideas. Onward from the fourteenth century the influx of Flemings and Dutchmen into England was considerable and the reasons for their coming various. Apart from the traders, skilled artisans were encouraged to settle for the purpose of improving the home manufactures. Oppression, too, was responsible for many immigrants; to cite an instance, thousands of people left Holland when the harsh Duke of Alva, acting for Philip of Spain, was in 1567 appointed commander of the forces, and numbers of them found refuge in England. But the presence of foreigners such as these, most of whom were not engaged in the building crafts, had only an indirect effect upon the local architecture. It was the imported artificers, coming from Germany as well as the Netherlands, who brought a new development to English building. “Throughout the reign of Elizabeth,” writes Professor Blomfield, “their influence was in the air and predominant.” The results of it are obvious in work then erected, notably in the long series of country houses with strapwork ornament, peculiar decoration of porches and fireplaces, and much patterned woodwork. Again, with the advent of Dutch William to the English throne, further new features were introduced and they are especially traceable in the admirable brickwork of the Queen Anne style. But the lasting and altogether good effect of Dutch influence was on traditional, rather than academic architecture, on those quiet and unpretentious buildings of the countryside. Here the foreign motives were almost imperceptibly blended with those existing, neither suddenly nor inharmoniously. A feature was added here, a detail there, yet the work remained truly English in character. Old villages can yet show buildings that bear upon them traces of an alien hand, or embody ideas drawn from other than local sources of inspiration. Such are the East Kentish cottages at Sandwich, Ickham, Reading Street and Sarre; the halls and manor-houses of Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex, with corbie-stepped and curved gables; the high brick barns of the Eastern counties; and endless picturesque groupings of certain distinction that exist up and down the land. The industrious settlers from over the water certainly brought something to our traditional architecture, gave it qualities that helped to make it what it was. And when they came to erect their dwellings on foreign soil, they cherished the memory of their own country, and turned their thoughts to home and to the houses on the tree-lined streets and waterways of Holland.