The Miniaturist



Still tipsy from the valerian, Cornelia has been fetched from her bed by Lysbeth. She stands at the door of the salon, her face a question, its astonishment feasting on the answer before her eyes. ‘You,’ she breathes.

‘Me,’ Otto replies, nervously. ‘I’ve been in London, Cornelia. The English called me blackamoor and lambkin. My lodging was the Emerald Parrot. I was almost going to write and tell you. I—’

Words fall on words. Otto shores up against the tide of grief before it breaks on his oldest friend’s head.

Cornelia totters towards him – she touches his elbows and shoulders, his hands still full with Thea. She touches his face, anything to prove his flesh is real. She cuffs the back of his head in loving fury. ‘Enough,’ she says, encasing him, breathing in his presence. ‘Enough.’

Still in her coat, Nella leaves them in the salon, crossing the marble tiles to the front door, which was left ajar in haste. She pulls it wide, standing on the threshold, the cooling air upon her cheeks. Sunday evening bells have started over the roofs of Amsterdam, and the churches’ clanging harmonies rise high. Dhana trots up to greet her young mistress, proffering her head for a pat. ‘Have they fed you, my beauty?’ Nella asks the dog, rubbing the silk of her lovely ears.

As the bells call the coming night, Nella sees the small white crescent moon, like a lady’s fingernail curved in the darkening sky. Cornelia passes through the hall, apron tied, head turned towards her kitchen. ‘It’s cold, Madame,’ she calls. ‘Come in.’

But Nella remains gazing along their stretch of frozen canal. A line of melting ice now runs along its edges. Warmer water has begun to fray the Herengracht’s wintry hem, and it looks to her like punched lace, the lining of a giant crib.

Cornelia drops a pan in the kitchen. There is shushing from the salon as Thea sallies a cry. Lysbeth and Otto’s voices float over the tiles. Nella reaches in her coat pocket to bring out the miniature house she took from the Kalverstraat, but it is no longer there. That cannot be right, she thinks, digging into the fabric. The little baby is still there – so is the miniature of Arnoud. So did I drop it, running through the city streets? Did I leave it in the workshop? You saw it, she tells herself. It was real.

Real or not, Nella has it no longer – but the five figures that the miniaturist had put inside it still remain inside this house. The young widow, the wet-nurse, Otto and Thea, Cornelia – will they come to know the secrets of each other’s lives? They are all loose threads – but that has ever been the case, thinks Nella. We make a hopeful tapestry; no one to weave it but ourselves.

Dusk has slipped to night, and the smell of nutmeg wafts; Dhana’s little body warms the side of Nella’s skirts. The sky is a vast sea flowing between the roofs; it is too large for the naked eye to see how it began, or where it will end. Its depth, infinite to Nella in possibility, begins to draw her further from the house.

‘Madame?’ Cornelia calls.

She turns, inhaling the scent of spice. Stealing one last look at the air above, Nella steps inside.





A Seventeenth-Century Dutch Glossary


Bewindhebber – partner of the VOC. Often had a lot of capital invested in the company.

Bourse – between 1609 and 1611, the first Commodity Exchange (or Bourse) was built on a part of the Rokin canal. The bourse consisted of a rectangular courtyard surrounded by arcades where trading took place.

Donderbus – literally ‘thunder-pipe’, an early form of shotgun.

Gebuurte – a neighbourhood group, taking common care of order, safety, public quiet, assisting a neighbour in distress, being there as intermediary in domestic conflicts, providing help in upcoming deaths and in burials.

Guilder – (Gulden) a silver coin first minted in 1680, divided into 20 stuivers or 160 duits. Larger denominations came in note form.

Herenbrood – literally a ‘gentlemen-bread’ that would be eaten by the wealthy. Made with wheat flour, cleaned and ground, as opposed to a cheaper rye bread.

Hooft’s True Fool (‘Warenar’) – a 1617 tragicomedy about moderation, greed and obsession. Warenar the miser has a daughter, Claartje, illegitimately pregnant by a suitor of whom Warenar does not approve. In the seventeenth century, Amsterdam developed into the centre of the international book trade, and books were not much subject to government censorship. Those that were banned in other countries were published in Amsterdam.

Hutspot – a meat and vegetable stew, everything thrown into one pot.

Kandeel – known in English as a ‘caudle’, a spiced drink made with wine, sometimes thickened with ground almonds, wheat starch, dried fruit, honey, sugar and egg yolks.

Olie-koecken – an early form of the doughnut. Wheat-flour with raisins, almonds, ginger, cinnamon, clove and apple, fried in oil and rolled in sugar.

Pattens – clog-like shoes that were worn inside and out, to protect the softer shoe from dirt.

Puffert – raised pancake fried in a pan.

Schepenen – if the schout was a sheriff or chief magistrate, the schepenen was a male group of magistrates. When acting in a judicial capacity, the schepenen were often referred to as the schepenbank. One of the functions of the schepenbank was to pass judgement on criminals, thereby functioning as a jury or magistrates’ bench. As a result, the word schepen is often translated into English as ‘magistrate’ in this Dutch historical context.

Schout – this is the Dutch word for a sheriff, or bailiff. He oversaw legal proceedings of cases in the Stadhuis, rather like a chief magistrate.

Spinhuis – women’s prison in Amsterdam, founded in 1597. Inmates were set to work spinning and sewing.

Stadhuis – the City Hall, now the Royal Palace in Dam Square. The testimonies and the deliberations of cases took place in the Schoutkamer, and the prison and the torture chamber were in the basement. The death penalty was pronounced in the basement by the schout, in front of the accused and in the presence of a pastor. Any audience could hear the sentence, standing in a limited space on the ground level, looking down into this sentencing room. The Amsterdam Exchange Bank was also housed in the Stadhuis cellar, holding all kinds of coins, gold nuggets and lumps of silver in safekeeping. Depositors were credited with the equivalent amount in guilders. The Exchange Bank also carried out money transfers from the account of one client to that of another.

Verkeerspel – an early Dutch version of backgammon, often depicted in paintings to remind people not to become complacent. The word means ‘game of change’.




Jessie Burton's books