The Girl with a Pearl Earring's youngest daughter, Maria Van de Graaf meets a man from Papist's Corner called Ignatius Vermeer, the son of a painter. He's charming and keen. Maria would be, if she wasn't a good Protestant girl and he a frivolous Catholic. But the trouble with their relationship runs deeper than just religion. Maria's parents don't seem too happy either. He's such a handsome man though...
Chapter 1
1696
I did not really know why I was up so early. I did not like being the first to watch the stall. I did not like being the only one on the stall either. Father was not so well at the moment and Mother was tired too. Agnes had been the first up to watch the stall yesterday, so naturally, it was my turn. When I complained, my Mother told me she would not be sleeping in too long and that she and Agnes would be joining me in a few hours.
"You are not a child anymore, Maria. It is ungrateful to sulk"
She was right. I was 18 years old and my Mother reminded me daily that when she was younger than I, she became a maid, which according to her, was a much harder job than working on a meat stall. But with sleep in my eyes and a head that hurt, I wasn't so sure. The Meat Hall was not empty, though. Lots of people were opening their stalls for the days and some had already opened when I arrived. I yawned and thought about how cold it was for a while. No one came to buy meat. There were never that many customers in the morning. There was nothing to do. The cold bothered me and I was very bored.
2 hours passed. For each hour, the New Church chimed. A few customers came and I served them. I was not very fast at preparing the meat. If anybody ever asked me if I really understood how to be a butcher, how to cut meat and so on, I probably could not told them. I did not really understand it myself. I just did it.
It was now 9 o'clock and the Meat Hall was getting busy. Almost every stall was no open and it would be about the time when my Father would say "We are facing competition." But I didn't really care about competition. I didn't really care about selling meat. I just wanted to go back to sleep. If Mother and Agnes were there, it would've been better. If I fell behind, they could take control. But Mother had been letting Agnes and I get on ourselves, of late. I was worried she would expect me to marry soon. Agnes already had a sweetheart. His name was Paul van Kloof. They were not engaged but it was only a matter of time...
You see how my mind wandered. I daydreamed. I served. I daydreamed...it was so very repetitive.
It was now 10 o'clock. I saw Judith Mulder. She had her shopping pail. She fiddled with her cap. She did not like wearing it. But Father said that good Protestant girls always wore their caps. He told us it was only really the Catholics who dressed their hair and the whores who wore it down. I had seen Judith Mulder with hers off once, in an alleyway, with a boy. It did not bother me too much. I did not much care for boys. If Judith wanted to see boys with her cap off, that was her business. But I told myself I was a good Protestant girl who should wear her cap. If I was to wed, men would probably like me better for it.
"How are you faring, Maria?"
"I am well, Judith."
"Your family? They are well, too?" She continued to fiddle with her cap.
"Yes. Jan and Anna have had another child. They called him Kees. Piet and Frans are faring well at the factory. Father is not so well but he will get better. And Mother and Agnes are as well as is expected. What about you?"
When I said "Jan and Anna," she shifted awkwardly. Jan had married Anna, who was Russian. People were not so accepting of foreigners. The only thing worse would be if she was French. But that was not the reason Judith had shifted so. Anna was with child before she and Jan married. People talked. They did not like it.
"They, too, are well. I'll tell you a secret, though, there's been some Frenchmen sniffing about our part of town. Father can't abide it. Have they been near you?" After the war against the French, people were not too keen on them. Any Frenchman in Delft was probably a freed prisoner who had decided to stay because of the quality of the whores and the beer. Most wise Frenchmen, though, would go straight back to France. The local men were the least keen of all.
"No. No, I have seen no Frenchmen"
"They are wrong to stay here. And if they must, they should be in Papist's Corner with the other Papists. Not bothering the honest folk"
We spoke for a little while but then she left. I was bored once again.
It was now 11 o'clock. I wondered where Mother was. I wondered where Agnes was. I looked at my hands for a while. They were very rough and quite dirty from working with all the meat. I had blood down my fingernails. Dried blood. I detested it but no matter how much I washed my hands, it was always there. I would never escape it. My Mother had very clean hands. They were a little rough, she said, from working as a maid but they were not bloody at all. She did not smell of meat either. I was sure I did. Agnes did. Father did. The boys did when they were living with us. I sighed a little at the sight of my hands. A little old lady who was waiting for me to serve her said "Hardwork is a virtue. Vanity is not"
Maybe it was a bit vain. I didn't care, I told myself. But I really did. I was a good Protestant girl. The Bible outlawed vanity. God would not be too happy, even if it was just my hands.
A Catholic woman walked past. I knew she was Catholic because of the way she dressed. It was very unlikely that she was a Protestant like the rest of us. She was clearly rich too. She had a silk dress on which was a brilliant green, greener than the trees in summer and it shimmered like the canal. She wore rouge on her cheeks and lips. She had lace on her sleeves and collar. She had black hair and black eyes. Her hair was worn in the fashionable way, with a mantua. She also wore gloves which looked expensive. Not so sensible in a meat hall. She was with a maid who looked a little bit more like me. The maid carried the shopping pail. I realised that perhaps, if she was not the one to get her hands dirty, she could wear gloves, of course.
They walked over to my stall after a few minutes of hovering. The maid was whispering to the Catholic lady and pointing to various stalls. My guess was, was that the Catholic lady had just got married and had moved in with her husband and was just learning what was expected of her in the way of household management. Of course, the maid would usually be expected to collect the meat alone. But it was probably important for the Catholic lady to understand how things were. If this were the case, I was surprised she was not pregnant yet.
"The mistress would have a pound of tongue please?" the maid said, quietly.
I prepared it for them, but I could not take my eyes of the lady. I had not seen many Catholics. They did not tend to leave the house and mingle with us all that often. They avoided it as much as possible. My Father told me not to look at them, saying they may corrupt me with their religion. But when I looked at her, I did not become a Catholic...I did wish I could dress like her, though.
She must've seen me staring because she said "You are fond of my dress and my jewels, I suppose; you are staring often enough"
The maid frowned and tried to deal with me herself "We only want to be served meat, girl. The mistress does not wish to be looked up and down like she is in the Beast Market. You are a rude girl. Perhaps we shall buy our meat elsewhere next time"
Before I could answer back, the Catholic mistress said "Don't bother yourself, Anouke. The girl is just curious, I am sure. And I think we shall continue to buy our meat here. It is the only meat that looks edible to me" She smiled. It was a nice smile. I wondered why Father had never told me that Catholics had nice smiles.
"Sorry, madam" I said "I have not seen so many women like you in my time" Perhaps this was too bold to say but she laughed as I handed her maid the wrapped tongue.
"You have probably seen women like me before. I suppose you mean a Catholic? We are not so different from you. Many look just like you. Never seen a Catholic, eh? I doubt it"
"I would bet that she has seen more than ten Catholics in her life" the voice came not from her maid or from the Catholic mistress herself, but it was a man's voice. He was standing just behind Anouke, the maid, and he was striking. He wore a fashionable hat. It had turned up brims, was a triangular shape (with the single top point at the front of his hair). It was fur trimmed. His long coat was fairly plain, but it was clear it was new and that it had cost him some money. He wore petticoat breeches though which were slightly old-fashioned. He was wealthy, I thought, but not wealthy enough. This mix of old and new was interesting to me and of course, striking. He was very colourful, too. I was not sure if I liked it. His face, though, was exceedingly handsome. He had dark brown eyes, big and round. His skin looked soft and his lips looked sweet. I could vaguely see his teeth. They did not look dirty. I was shocked (and rather glad too) that he did not wear a wig. They had become quite fashionable here of late, especially with the wealthier. His hair was long of course and well-groomed and wavy, but it was his own. I felt a little strange when I looked at him. I fiddled with my cap, like Judith did.
"Ignatius Vermeer! How you have grown!" the Catholic mistress said. She smiled wide. They were familiar. I suspected he too was a Papist. A Catholic. I felt very strange.
"You too, Elisabeth. Or should I say, Mrs. Huygens now?" he bowed. He was very handsome. When he straightened up after his bow, I could've sworn he looked quickly in my direction. He had a smile on his face. A brilliant smile. All Catholics seemed to have nice smiles.
"You are keeping well, I hope? I heard about your grandmother. I am sorry. It must be hard for you"
"I am coping well. It was quite a while ago, now. I have van Leeuwenhoek to look after me now. I am a man, too, or so van Leeuwenhoek says. I am 25"
"Yes. Of course you are. I have not see van Leeuwenhoek in a while. I heard he was in charge of your well being and has taken you in. How are your brothers and your sisters?"
"As well as could be hoped. Beatrice is not coping so well, but what with van Leeuwenhoek's and Maertge's money, I am sure she will survive. Cornelia is married now. We were all very shocked"
His hair was copper. Sometimes it looked red, sometimes it looked brown. I liked it. I continued to stare at him. He continued to smile like he knew.
"Well" the Catholic mistress (Elisabeth Huygens) said after talking for a little while "Anouke and I are quite busy. Lots to do. We will not keep you. God bless you"
Anouke had paid me a few minutes ago so they left straight away, with Elisabeth Huygens, leaving gracefully but briskly. It was now just me and him. He did not leave at the same time as them. He stood for a moment watching them go and then he turned to me. I did not know what to say. I could only say the first thing that came to mind.
"What would you like today, sir?" I was so very stupid for assuming he wanted to buy meat. He had nothing to carry it in for a start. And he was a gentleman.
"A kiss from a pretty girl" he replied "Could you oblige me?"
I blushed and shuffled awkwardly. He was closer to the table now but he didn't lean on it. It was covered in meat and blood. Who would want to? Especially someone like him. I fiddled with my cap and managed to mumble out "We only sell meat" I was trying to flirt with him. I didn't know why. I wasn't supposed to. But it didn't sound like flirting anyway. It sounded pathetic. I fiddled with my cap"
He elected to ignore my attempt and tried himself.
"Ah! Those damned caps!" he gestured at mine "How am I meant to swoon over all the pretty Protestant girls when you wear them? I can hardly see your face!"
I thought for a moment of something witty to say.
"Maybe you should keep to your pretty Catholic girls. I am sure there are many. They do not wear the cap" It came out a bit venomously but he didn't really notice.
"But I like pretty Protestant girls." He winked "And most Catholic girls my age are already married. And I don't intend to make a cuckold of any man." His smile told me otherwise.
He continued after he saw me smile. He probably thought he was going to be successful. For a moment, I thought he might be "So, will you give me a kiss? If you like the kiss and you fall in love with me instantly, I know a few alleyways we can be in private" He winked again. I felt a bit giddy. But his comment startled me slightly. I hoped no one had heard.
"Excuse me, sir, but I don't think any of this is appropriate"
"Oh, forgive my Catholic ways, but we are supposed to produce as many children as possible. I am one of many...but I am sure the Protestant teaching is not so different"
"To be sure, sir, I am no expert on the Catholic faith" I thought I sounded intelligent "But I am certain that they also tell you that you should be married before you have children. If that is the case, that is not so different from Protestants" I thought of Jan and Anna. I felt very hypocritical.
He laughed out loud. "Marry me then!" He said this a little too loudly. People were looking at me. Other stall owners were noticing that he had been standing at the stall for a very long time, without buying anything. I didn't like attracting attention. I wanted him to leave. But...I did not want him to leave, at the same time. Who was this man? I knew that Mother and Agnes should've have come to the stall with me.
"Please. People are staring" I said and he smiled, as if to say sorry, and stood back.
"I am sorry. But you are, by all accounts, very pretty. You remind me of someone. I do not yet know who that someone is, though. What is your name?"
"Maria"
"Maria! Beautiful name. Heavenly name." I was blushing so much now. I hoped he didn't notice but I am sure he must have "My grandmother was called Maria. Maria Thins. What is your surname, Maria?"
"Never you mind!"
"That's a fancy surname. Are you French?"
I laughed, in spite of the fact that I know people are still staring and that people will talk. "Maria was with a Papist boy. They were talking for a long time. Flirting infact. He asked for her hand in marriage" That is what they would see, with the emphasis on "Papist boy." My Father might find out. He would not be happy.
The New Church chimed for twelve. His face changed.
"Alas, pretty girl, I have a busy schedule today. You have spoken with me for a while. You've bewitched me into it, you wicked woman" He was smiling properly now. I could see his teeth. I was right. They were clean.
"On your way then" I tried to say this firmly, but with enough warmth for him to realise that I quite enjoyed his company "Come back if you ever need meat. The Catholic mistress now buys from here. You can be assured that the meat is good"
"I'll remember that. This will be the first place I come if I ever am in need of good meat. Goodbye, Maria Never You Mind."
He took an apple out of his pocket and bit into it and then, he walked away, just as the Catholic mistress had. Gracefully but briskly. I felt a little disheartened. He sounded sincere. He did not change near the end of our conversation. And yet, I did not know if we would ever be acquainted again.
Suddenly, my Mother was there. Her eyes were wide and she was looking in...I suppose I should call him Ignatius Vermeer...she was looking in Ignatius Vermeer's direction as he walked away.
"Who was that? He did not buy anything"
She did tend to fuss. She told me she hated it when her Mother fussed her. My grandmother still fussed now, actually. I knew she would be offended if I accused her of fussing. She did not like the prospect of getting old. But she was not getting too old. She was still as pretty as everyone said she was when she was younger.
"Where is Agnes? Where have you been?" I changed the subject.
"I am sorry. We had to tend to your father. He was sick again. I did not want to leave until he'd gone back to sleep. Agnes is with him. How much money have you earned so far?"
I showed her.
"That is not a very good amount. Alas, we've had worse days. And it is a Tuesday after all. Tuesday is always a bad day in the way of earnings. No matter, we still have the rest of the day to earn" She put on her apron. She was looked in the direction that Ignatius had taken once more.
"Who was that man?"
"Don't fuss about it, Mother. We didn't have what he needed"
"You're lying. I know when you are lying, Maria. I do not like it when you lie" She didn't need to preach. I knew lying was a sin. She wasn't the preaching type.
"His name is Ignatius" I said after a moment "He was talking to me politely"
"You were both smiling" she said this as she cut some meat. Clearly I had not done enough work. I felt confident enough in my Mother to not be alarmed if I told her I found him handsome.
"He was nice. He was quite handsome, too. He was friends with a rich lady called Elisabeth Huygens. Very rich. I could tell by her dress. His full name is Ignatius Vermeer"
My Mother stopped cutting the meat and looked at me. Her face had changed. Her eyes were wider than ever. I realised she was, infact, alarmed which I was not at all expecting.
"A Papist boy. What will your father say? You are not to see him again"
"A Papist man, actually, Mother. He was 25."
"Don't speak to me in that tone, Maria. If he visits again, you must tell him you are not interested. He is a Papist. You must not"
"How did you know he was a Papist? Have you met him before?" I was angry that she had made this assumption, albeit a correct assumption.
She did not answer. She took her gaze from me and continued with the meat.
Then I remembered. Mother had worked for a Vermeer family when she was near my age. She was their maid. Her master was the famous painter. I suspect that Ignatius was his son. People would say "Griet Van de Graaf...she used to be a maid for the Vermeer's before she married Pieter Van de Graaf. Her master was the painter, Johannes Vermeer" They would smile when they said this, as if they knew a secret. Mother did not like to talk about the Vermeer's that much. I decided that she must not have liked them. She must've disagreed. Maybe she stole something. That is the real reason she did not want Ignatius Vermeer to come back. She did not really care about his religion, although I knew that she would not be so sure about me marrying a Catholic. She was right about Father, though. He would be annoyed.
I looked at my hands and nails again. Dirty and covered in blood. I thought about my face. It was not as pretty as he made out. My teeth were not like his, I did not think. I did not wear nice clothes, not even nice old fashioned clothes. Why was I thinking of marriage? I hardly knew him. He would not be coming back, I knew.
"I won't see him again. He won't be coming back, besides"
She nodded her head, suggesting she had heard me and wished to discuss the matter no further. She served customers. I prepared the meat. I thought about Ignatius and his clean smile and old fashioned petticoat breeches for the rest of the day.