Twice ToldWachtendorp, Oude Hollandsche geschiedenissen ofte corte rym-kronyck (1648 printing): the sea-woman, eighth book
- Language
- Dutch
- Reading
- transcribed from the page image
- Translation
- ours
- Retrieved
- 10 October 2026
A rhymed chronicle of Holland, first printed in Amsterdam in 1645 according to the Rijksmuseum’s note on its impression of the plate; the copy read here is the 1648 printing, with a plate of the same design as the Rijksmuseum’s. The verse tells her story in the eighth book, under the reign of Duke Willem VI. The plate above the first lines shows her seated at a spinning wheel with a fish’s tail while a crowd of small boats works on the water behind.
[leaf n174, foot of page: the verse beginning] Een Zee-vrouw uyt het ruym der Zee, quam aengedreven, Door ‘t nieuwe Texels gat, terwijl de stormen bleven,
[leaf n175] En in de Suyder-Zee geslingert in het ronde, Raeckt in het Purmer-Meyr, de Dijck doen open stondt, Het raesen van de Zee en van de Noordtsche buyen, Na lange tijdt gestelt door ‘t suysen van het suyen, Soo werdt het open gat van ‘t Purmer-Meyr gemaeckt, Dat daer geen water in, geen water uyt en raeckt. De Zee-vrouw blijft daer in, en kan geen uytganck vinden, Geslingert hier en daer, met blaesen van de winden: Sy swemt somtijdts om hoogh, en toont een open mondt, Sy duyckt somtijdts om laegh, en slaept daer op de grondt; Men saghse menighmael in schijn der Sonnen spelen, Men hoordse menighmael een soeten Zee-sanck quelen, Sy maeckten menighmael des nachts een vreemdt gerucht, Sy maeckten menighmael by daegh met springen klucht. Indien der grooten windt en heftighe tempeesten Omwoelden ‘t gantsche Meyr, dan danssten sy het meesten, Sy huylden als een hondt, meest in de middernacht, En wierdt door ‘t eerste licht in stilte weer gebracht, Visschen, haer eygen aes, die vingse met haer handen, Doch veeght de schobben eerst af met haer scharpe tanden; Of quam daer by geval een Smient of Water-eent, Sy trock de veren af, en at het kleyn gebeent, Haer hayr was wonder lanck, en nimmer af geschoten [geschoren?], Seër dat sy van wat Moêr het zijn mach, was geboren: ‘t Lijf overal met ruygh bewassen, en met haer, Was van een huydt bedeckt redelijck gladt en klaer, Van menschelijck verstandt en saghmen niet veel reden, Soo langh sy in ‘t water was, maer menschelijcke leden, Van voor, van achteren, van aensicht, en van mondt, Wanneerse nu en dan eens op het water stondt.
[leaf n176] De Boeren met haer Melck door ‘t Purmer-Meyr gevaren, Die saghen menighmael het Zee-wijf in de Baren: Indien men in die tijdt Neptunum hadt geleert, Voor seecker hadden sy haer voor sijn wijf ge-eert. Nu seyden hier en daer op marcken van haer suyvel, Sy sagen in haer Meyr een vreeselijcken Duyvel, Die toonde hem by daegh, en huylde over nacht, Soo sijn de Steê-luy in verwonderingh gebracht. Besloten op het laetst’ de Duyvel te bevechten, En dees onseeckerheyt met meerder grondt te rechten: Dies komen op het Meyr veel Boeren met haer schuyt, En trecken met geweldt de Water-vrouw daer uyt; Men brachtse tot Edam, alwaerse wat bedaerde, Maer alsse water sagh verlanghde van de aerde, ‘t Scheen datse oock met spraeck der tongen was vereert, Een saecke die men niet en vindt by ‘t ongedier[te?], Sy wierde met der tijdt gebrocht tot beter seden, Sy leerden oock verstaen de Nederlandtsche reden, Sy handelden het vlas, en spon een goede draet, Soo dat de nieuwigheyt door al de Landen gaet. Na datse langen tijdt te Edam was gebleven, Soo isse aen de Stadt van Haerlem overgeven, Van vele welbesien en dickwils ondervraeght, Is oock aldaer gerust, een deughdelijcke Maeght. Dit werdt van d’oude ons voor seckerheyt beschreven, Hoe-wel geen Philosooph daer reden van kan geven, Hoe datter in de Zee kan leven Vrouw of Man, Maer soo het waer is, doet het Godt die alles kan.
Translation
[leaf n174, foot of page] A sea-woman from the wide sea came drifting in through the new Texel gap while the storms went on,
[leaf n175] and, tossed around in the Zuiderzee, she ended up in the Purmer lake when the dike stood open. After a long time the raging of the sea and the northern gusts was calmed by the blowing of the south wind, and so the open gap of the Purmer lake was closed, so that no water came in or went out. The sea-woman stayed inside and could find no way out, tossed here and there by the blowing winds. Sometimes she swam on the surface and showed an open mouth; sometimes she dived and slept on the bottom. People often saw her playing in the sunshine, and often heard her singing a sweet sea-song. Often at night she made a strange noise, and by day she made merry with leaps. When strong winds and fierce storms stirred up the whole lake, then she danced most of all. She howled like a dog, mostly at midnight, and was brought back to quiet by the first light. Fish were her own food, which she caught with her hands, but she first scraped off the scales with her sharp teeth; or if a wigeon or a water-duck came by chance, she plucked the feathers and ate the small creature (literally “the small bones”). Her hair was wonderfully long and never cut, ever since she was born, whatever mother she may have had [reading of the line uncertain]. Her body was all overgrown with rough growth and with hair, but covered with a skin that was fairly smooth and clear. Of human understanding one saw little sign as long as she was in the water, but human limbs, front and back, face and mouth, whenever she now and then stood up on the water.
[leaf n176] The farmers who crossed the Purmer lake with their milk often saw the sea-woman in the waves; if people had known Neptune in those days, they would surely have honoured her as his wife. Now people at the markets, selling their dairy, said that they had seen a terrible devil in their lake, who showed himself by day and howled by night, and so the townsfolk were thrown into wonder. In the end they decided to fight the devil and settle this uncertainty on firmer ground. So many farmers came out on the lake in their boats and dragged the water-woman out by force. They brought her to Edam, where she calmed down a little, but when she saw water she longed to leave the land. It seemed that she was also granted the gift of speech, a thing one does not find among animals [?]. In time she was brought to better manners; she also learned to understand the Dutch language; she handled flax and spun a good thread, so that the novelty went through all the lands. After she had stayed a long time in Edam, she was given to the city of Haarlem, closely examined by many people and often questioned, and she also died there, a virtuous maid. This is written down for us by the old authors as certain, although no philosopher can say how a woman or a man can live in the sea; but if it is true, God does it, who can do all things.
Notes
The verse says “Zee-vrouw”, “Zee-wijf” and “Water-vrouw”, never “meermin”. The plate shows her with a tail while these lines describe human limbs “front and back, face and mouth”. Wachtendorp has her come in “through the new Texel gap” and then be shut into the Purmer by the repaired dike; his rhymes add the singing, the howling, the fishing with bare hands, the “devil” at the markets and her learning Dutch, none of which appears in the older prose accounts. “Ruygh bewassen” is the old prose phrase for being overgrown with slime or moss; here it is paired with “haer” (hair) and is rendered as “rough growth”. “Geschoten” is what the page prints; it is read as a slip for “geschoren” (shorn), which rhymes with “geboren”. The line “Seër dat sy van wat Moêr…” is read but its sense is uncertain. “Ongedier[te]” is a guess at a cut word. Wachtendorp, whom the Edams Museum page calls a (blind) preacher, wrote the whole chronicle in rhyme from the Flood to 1560.