On that day the Scheldt presented at Antwerp a striking spectacle. Many
ships which had been detained in the North Sea by the east wind were
approaching the city, with their various colored flags floating on the
breeze, while, far as the eye could reach, the broad expanse of water was
covered with sails, and still, in the dim horizon, mast after mast seemed
to arise from the waves as harbingers of an immense flotilla.
The sailors displayed gigantic strength in casting anchor and manoeuvring
their vessels so as to obtain an advantageous position. The crews of the
different ships vied with each other, and exerted themselves so
energetically that the heavily laden crafts trembled under the strained
cables. From each arose a song wild and harsh as the sharp creaking of the
capstan, but joyous as the triumphant shout of a victorious army. These
chants, sung in every tongue of the commercial world by robust sailors,
seemed, as they were wafted over the river to the city, like the long,
loud acclamations of a vast multitude.
The only sounds which could be heard in the midst of these confused cries
were the voices of the captains speaking through the trumpets; and when a
Portuguese gallion, coming from the West Indies, appeared before the city,
a salvo of cannon rose like the rolling of thunder above all other sounds.
The sun shone brightly upon this animated scene of human activity, and
broke and sparkled in colored light up in the rippling waves of the broad
river.
Hundreds of flags floated in the air; gondolas and longboats furrowed the
waters; from boat and wharf joyous greetings of friends mingled with the
song of the sailors. Even the wagoners from beyond the Rhine, who had
ranged their strongly-built wagons near the cemetery of Burg, in order to
load them with spices for Cologne, could not resist the influence of the
beautiful May-day and the general hilarity; they collected near the gate
of the dock-yard, and entoned in their German tongue a song so harmonious
and sweet, and yet so manly, that every other sound in their vicinity was
hushed.
At this moment an elegant vehicle passed the gate of the dock-yard, and
stopped near the German wagoners as the last strain of their song died
upon the air.
A young man, and after him an old man and a young girl richly attired,
alighted from the carriage.
Those immediately around, merchants as well as workmen, stepped
respectfully aside and saluted Mr. Van de Werve, whilst glancing
admiringly at his daughter. Some Italians of lower rank murmured loud
enough to reach Mary's ears: "Ecco la bionda maraviglia."