Little Dutch Girl

So I'm looking at this map of Amsterdam from 1544 on my hard drive, I've had it forever. I'm thinking, hmm. What house would my persona live in, anyway? It would be her family's home, her mother is a midwife, her father a painter- an artist, probably a portrait artist. This would have been 1483-1512 or so, but I had to figure not TOO much had changed in 30 years.

So the map is oriented upside down, with the southwest at the top of the page. So I picked the one that looked nice, off to the east, near some pastures and orchards and looking out over the water. (You can see it in the lower left hand corner of my header!) I chose this house for a reason;

My persona's surname is Van Den Oostenbrugge, meaning "From the Bridge to the East." I chose this surname deliberately because my great-great grandmother, who immigrated to America from Amsterdam, was named Gertrude Van Estenbridge. I did a lot of research on this last name, and so did a friend of mine who's mother is really into Dutch geneology, and we couldn't find anything. When this is the case, you can usually assume that something got mangled coming through Ellis Island. So I translated it. What is "eastern bridge" in Dutch? Once I had that information, I searched for something resembling that, as a Dutch surname, and sure enough, I found it. So that being said, I chose a house right on a bridge to the eastern fringes of the city.

So I've been to Amsterdam, and I was wondering where this house actually was in modern terms. So I went to Google Maps and zoomed in on the rough area. Had to screen shot it, pull it into Photoshop and rotate it most of the way around to get it to line up correctly with the 1544 map. And of course nothing is exact, but the layout of Amsterdam is very unique, so it was easy enough to make up for the slight offset and distance discrepancy.

So I see in Photoshop that I haven't zoomed out far enough in Google Maps, but I can see on the 1544 map that it's a street that goes straight out from the Weigh House (or Waag) on the Nieuwmarkt, and there's going to be a bridge, it's a street that goes right on over a canal, and the house I've chosen on the 1544 map is like the first house on the right over the bridge.

So I go back to Google Maps, I zoom out, re-orient myself on the map, follow the street and... Now, you remember that her father is a painter, right?

That house?

Yeah, that's Rembrandt's house.
::face palm::  Only me, would this happen to. Only me.

 To be FAIR, Rembrandt was not born until 1606, did not move into the house until 1639, which was built between 1606 and 1607. There obviously were buildings in the area at Alijna's time, however. What did they look like, I wonder? Who lived there, and why? Now I can't wait to get back to the city and look at the area. It'll be years before I can afford that trip, though!

While also screwing around with Google Maps, I mapped how long it would take to walk from Rembrandt's House to the Oude Kerk, where Alijna would have gone to church. It's only a nine-minute walk, so almost certainly she would have been able to hear the bells from home.

(As a totally crazy aside, I just this second discovered that Kiliaen Van Rensselaer is buried beneath the floor of the Oude Kerk. He's the founder of the only successful Patroonship, Rensselaerswyk- which would become (among other towns and cities) Albany, Troy, and Rensselaer, which is where I live now. What is with the coincidences today?!)

I got excited to see that the Nieuwmarkt was right there, thinking that Alijna might go there to buy from merchants, but it turns out that the Waag was originally a gate, part of the eastern city walls which were actually being built when she was born. Alijna would have been living outside of them. It didn't become a market until the 1600's.

I love this tidbit from Wikipedia: "A number of guilds were housed on the top floors of the building: the blacksmiths' guild, the painter's guild, the masons' guild and the surgeons' guild. Each guild had its own entrance gate. The guild emblems are still visible over these entrances" 

I love the idea of guilds, especially after reading the work of Tracy Chevalier, which is exquisitely researched. The Lady and the Unicorn, which revolves around tapestry weavers commissioned for the famous tapestries of the same name, and the weaver's guild they're members of. And also, of course, Girl with a Pearl Earring, which revolves around the Dutch Master Vermeer, and he too is a member of a painter's guild.

Ah, but the painter's guild! If only I wasn't a touch out of period for that. Anyway- this has been a fun couple of hours of research and I'm pleased with the discoveries I've made. History is kind of the best. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

Seriously.
(Check out all of Hark! A Vagrant! here.)

So I Put a Toe Back In.

I was there for like five hours. Trolled in with two noobs, and I think I drove back out with two converts, so that's a good feeling.

I enjoyed the time I spent there. It did my heart good to see my one friend get so excited by archery. It did my heart good to make a new friend while sitting under the shade of the trees by the lake. She and I spoke long about making a home for yourself and your children within the SCA, and nurturing the next generation of reenactors. It did my heart good to see my daughter make toys of sticks and stones and leaves and acorns, and play with other children. It did my heart good to laugh with someone I have always admired.

I didn't stay for my favorite part of SCA events- the long and lazy evenings spent around the fire, breathing in that perfume of smoke and night air, wrapped in my cloak, shoulder to shoulder with good friends, and passing stories and songs and bottles around and around and around. But this was one toe in. Just one toe.

Next, Coronation. It'll feel good to attend another event at the Cathedral of All Saints. It feels more real when I'm there. If I make it through that, then we'll see what's next. The main game plan is to be ready to camp by Roses of next year- that's nine months to acquire a good tent and fire pit, plus everything else we'll need. Time to make a list, I think.

A Blue Velvet Cap

Do not look even remotely surprised when I tell you that Shakespeare in Love is one of my favorite movies. It's one of a few (along with Ever After, Robin Hood Prince of Thieves, and Knight's Tale) that I refer to as my "Garb Movies" - movies I throw on in the background while I'm whiling away the hours working on garb projects.

Shakespeare in Love, however, is also a source of much dismay to me, because of one very stupid line which somehow became an obsession, during rehearsals when Fennyman says:

"I have a blue velvet cap that'll do well. I've seen just such a cap on an apothecary. Just so."

And now, dear reader, I will be damned if I don't want desperately to have a blue velvet cap for my apothecary's daughter persona. Now you're saying, "Wait, I thought your persona was the daughter of a painter and a midwife, what happened?" 

Nothing, it's just that before I decided he'd been a painter, I'd wanted him to be an apothecary, and I've already had that velvet in my stash for years.

At some point I was convinced that there had to be some historical significance to this- that surely apothecaries somewhere, at some point, wore caps of blue velvet. Or caps of velvet. Or caps of blue. SOMETHING. But I have found little, if nothing, to support this idea.

There's no question that apothecaries wore hats, as most people did. Below are two depictions of an Apothecary at work, and both are topped off.

 
On the right, the woodcut appears to be of an apothecary and his apprentice, and the apprentice appears to be wearing a fun twisted headband which may or may not have a fabric crown (thereby making it a hat, not just a band.)

As you can see below, velvet caps are no strangers to menswear of the 16th century...

However, you might have noticed by now that these are all men, in men's hats. Which, you know, that's fine. If anyone were to compliment my fine cap, I could say, "It was my father's! The cholera took him, God rest his soul."

My persona is Dutch, married to a German, and living in the former half of the 1500's. A Landsknecht look would not be remotely wrong for her, and neither would something of a somewhat Flemish origin. I admit to being delighted by the Landsknecht starfish hat, but don't have enough of the velvet in question to pull it off. Things to think about...

Reconciliation

To even understand what I'm saying here, you have to understand that the SCA is not a hobby to me. It's an abusive relationship with Stockholm Syndrome. God I love it, I love it so much, but oh, oh does it make me miserable. A year and a half ago I was expounding on leaving the beast, and now I return- somewhat less than triumphantly. 

I have a couple of friends who are really eager to get into fencing. My kid is old enough for youth combat now. My husband is willing to endure it for the rest of us. I find myself trying again.

Crap, I said I wouldn't do this.