Last Days in a Dutch Hotel (from Literature and Life)

In Short

William Dean Howells presents a gentle, observational travel essay reflecting on the final weeks of a summer resort on the Dutch coast. As autumn cold settles over Scheveningen, the narrator and his wife watch the hostelry gradually empty of its international guests. Howells contrasts the meticulous, unfailing order of European hospitality with the raw, temporary nature of American seaside hotels. Through quiet daily observations of bathing rituals, royal visits, and courtly staff, the text captures a fading seasonal rhythm, demonstrating how cultural attitudes toward permanence and civic duty shape daily life.

The Story

The account opens in mid-September at a grand hotel on the windswept coast of Scheveningen, near The Hague. Despite warnings from a city porter that they will freeze, the narrator and his wife take up residence as the vast building empties out. Outside, a persistent, icy Dutch gale drives small groups of brave bathers into the surf using wheeled bathing machines. Inside, the hotel operates with unwavering precision. Carpets are silently taken up and extra furniture is stored away, yet the service remains prompt, the meals arrive flawlessly, and the staff treats the few remaining guests with formal, attentive care.

As the days progress, the narrator reflects on the fundamental differences between European and American institutional life. Where an American hotel on Long Island felt provisional—built on a gamble with deteriorating wooden planks and declining service near the end—the Dutch establishment is built on permanent masonry, clean tiled paths, and deep structural pride. Everyday details, from the well-managed coastal dunes planted with sea grass to the omnipresent, hooded willow chairs on the beach, highlight this commitment to order and endurance.

Life in the hotel ebbs and flows as international guests arrive and depart. The narrator shares pleasant table conversations with visiting English travelers and several German families, bonding over literature or exchanging simple gestures of good will despite language barriers. A Dutch woman shares her pride in American historian John Lothrop Motley, whose portrait hangs in the local royal residence.

The quiet retreat reaches its peak with the arrival of the Dutch royal family—the Regent Queen Mother and the young seventeen-year-old prospective Queen—who come to attend a seaside orchestra concert. The hotel decorates its entrance with orange asters, and a crowd gathers to watch the young princess sit on a gilded throne. The narrator views her with warm sympathy, seeing a gentle, charming girl tasked with carrying the heavy weight of an ancient monarchy.

In the final days, the rooms grow increasingly empty, until no boots are left outside the corridor doors. Even as the main dining room tables are turned upside down, the staff continues to offer impeccable service, serving a perfect final lunch. The narrator and his wife take their leave in a carriage, surrounded by the polite farewells of the uniformed porters and bell-boys, leaving behind a setting defined by quiet, enduring duty.

How It Unfolds

Settling into the chill The narrator arrives at Scheveningen in mid-September, enduring relentless icy gales and fluctuating weather. Despite the falling temperatures, the grand hotel maintains its strict schedule, keeping its fires lit and its dining room fully operational for a dwindling handful of visitors.

Observing the shore Hardy bathers venture into the cold North Sea every morning with the help of stout bath-men and wheeled machines. The narrator watches these routines from the esplanade, reflecting on the shore's sturdy brickwork and the carefully planted dunes that protect the landscape from the wind.

Experiencing European order As guest rooms are closed and stripped, the hostelry shows no signs of neglect or failing service. The narrator compares this unfailing European permanence to the rapid decay of closing American beach resorts, praising the multi-lingual, exceptionally courteous hotel portier who keeps the entire establishment running smoothly.

Exchanging views with travelers The dining room becomes a space for subtle cross-cultural exchanges between the American couple and various English, German, and Dutch guests. Conversations range from friendly debates over modern playwrights like Ibsen to quiet expressions of mutual respect shared through simple gestures.

Welcoming the Queens The entire hotel erupts into celebration when the Queen Mother and the young future Queen arrive for a grand afternoon concert. The narrator watches the young royal princess sit upon her uncomfortable throne, reflecting on her innocent youth amidst the grand traditions of her country.

Departing the quiet halls On the final day, the hallways stand empty and the dining room chairs are turned up, yet the kitchen serves an exquisite last meal. The narrator bids a warm farewell to the lingering staff before departing by carriage into the autumn sun.

The People

• The Narrator: An observant, dryly humorous American traveler who takes great pleasure in comparing European social customs with those of his homeland. He appreciates order, good food, and thoughtful conversation, recording the small details of daily hotel life with gentle affection.
• The Portier: A tall, slim Dutch hotel manager who serves as the moral center and operational heart of the hostelry. Wearing a gold-banded cap and speaking multiple languages, he maintains a posture of unfailing helpfulness and treats every remaining guest with royal deference.
• The Young Queen: The seventeen-year-old prospective sovereign of Holland who visits the hotel for an afternoon concert. She appears sweet, modest, and small, earning the narrator's earnest sympathy as she sits rigidly on her heavy gilt throne.
• The Queen Mother: The royal regent who accompanies her young daughter to the coast. She is described as having a wise, good face that commands immediate respect from the assembled crowd.
• The German Families: Fellow hotel guests who share table space with the narrator. One family engages in lively literary debates about modern drama, while another, speaking no English, connects with the narrator purely through warm, humane goodwill.

In Its Own Voice

"From time to time the weather varied, as it does in Europe... and three or four times a day it rained, and three or four times it cleared; but through all the wind blew cold and colder."

The narrator sets the autumn scene on the Dutch coast, where fluctuating skies and relentless North Sea gales test the resolve of the remaining guests.

"But in Europe everything is permanent, and in America everything is provisional."

This central observation captures the core contrast of the essay, highlighting how European institutions are built for centuries while American ones operate like brief, temporary gambles.

"She looked so young, so gentle, and so good that the rudest Republican could not have helped wishing her well out of a position so essentially and irreparably false as a hereditary sovereign's."

Watching the young Dutch princess at an afternoon concert, the American narrator reflects on the contrast between her personal innocence and the heavy, artificial weight of her royal duty.

What It's Really About

Beneath its calm account of a seaside vacation, the text explores the philosophical differences between European stability and American transience. Howells uses the daily operations of a closing hotel to examine how societies view time, labor, and public duty. Europe is depicted as a place where traditions, architecture, and professional roles are treated as permanent, dignified commitments. America, by contrast, is seen as restless, energetic, and often indifferent to lasting order. Through quiet observations of hotel porters, beach dunes, and royal ceremonies, the essay asks how human beings can build institutions that preserve dignity, comfort, and mutual respect even as time and seasons change.

Why Read It Today

This essay will appeal to readers who enjoy gentle travel writing, keen social observation, and reflective historical essays. Howells writes with an easy, elegant style that turns small daily occurrences—such as a waiter making excuses for a cheek boil or bathers wrestling with muzzled dogs on the beach—into memorable human portraits. Reading the work feels like sitting on a quiet veranda with a witty, well-traveled companion who notices every subtle nuance of behavior around him.

The piece offers a vivid glimpse into late nineteenth-century European resort culture, presenting its details with warm clarity. While modern readers may find its gentle pace and formal sentence structures reflective of an earlier era of essay writing, the text never feels dull or overly academic. Its light humor, sharp cultural comparisons, and empathetic view of human nature remain completely accessible, leaving the reader with a lasting appreciation for the quiet art of living gracefully through the end of a season.