Salary comparisons at the end of the seventeenth century in Amsterdam
By the last quarter of the seventeenth century, 0.1% of the Amsterdam rich owned about 42% of the total wealth of the city.
The Receiver General of the Republic (the top position in government) had a salary of 60,000 guilders a year in 1699.
A rich merchant like Johannes would be earning something in the region of 40,000 guilders a year, aside from his assets which accounted for a separate and substantial tranche of wealth – hugely successful merchants had been known to leave bequests of up to 350,000 guilders.
An Amsterdam schout or sheriff (a high position in the republic’s machine) might earn 9,000 guilders a year.
A surgeon might earn about 850 guilders a year.
A middling or master guildsman (shoemaker, chandler, baker) might earn 650 guilders a year. (Arnoud and Hanna’s income is high, but they have combined their incomes and been lucky at the Bourse.)
An ordinary labourer might earn about 300 guilders a year, or 22 stuivers a day.
Sample household costs of a wealthy Amsterdammer in the late 1600s
A man’s shirt – 1 guilder
A debt to an apothecary – 2 guilders 10 stuivers A woman’s simple skirt – 2 guilders
Widow’s benefit from her husband’s guild – 3 guilders a week Small landscape or Biblical painting – 4 guilders A house gown – 10 guilders
A debt to a surgeon – 15 guilders
A painting in a gilt frame of a sea battle – 20 guilders A decent linen cupboard – 20 guilders A debt to a shoemaker – 2 3 guilders An Italianized hunting landscape in the style of Cuyp – 3 5 guilders A coat and vest – 50 guilders
A fancy nut-wood linen cupboard – 60 guilders A damask dress – 95 guilders
A debt to a tailor – 110 guilders
A horse and sleigh – 120 guilders
A hundred pounds of lobster – 120 guilders Entry into one of the more exclusive guilds (such as silver and goldsmiths, painters, wine-merchants) – 400 guilders Twelve silver plates – 800 guilders
A house for a small-scale tradesman and his family – 900 guilders A tapestry bought for a room in a Herengracht canal house – 900 guilders A string of diamonds – 2,000 guilders A miniature cabinet house, furnished with 700 items over several years – c.30,000 guilders.
Thank you
The Early Readers: Jake Arnott, Lorna Beckett, Mahalia Belo, Pip Carter, Anna Davis, Emily de Peyer, Polly Findlay, Ed Griffiths, Antonia Honeywell, Susan Kulkarni, Hellie Ogden, Sophie Scott, Teasel Scott and the women of the Pageturners book group. Thank you for not saying it was rubbish and for your always kind, useful and imaginative observations. My fortune in friends indicates that in the next life I will return as a mosquito.
The Three Graces with pens and exclamation marks: my UK editor, Francesca Main, who has blended extraordinary commentary and observation with kindness and sensitivity – and my editors in the USA and Canada, Lee Boudreaux and Jennifer Lambert, whose acumen and enthusiasm have made this the most shining book it could be. Thank you so much, all three, for believing in both me and the miniaturist.
At Picador, a huge thank you to Sandra Taylor, Jodie Mullish and Sara Lloyd for all your work and good humour, to Paul Baggaley for the pastoral support, and to Nicholas Blake for your detailed eye. Thank you also to Line Lunnemann Andersen, Martin Andersen, Katie Tooke, the design team at Picador, and Dave Hopkins, who have made such a wonderful UK cover design, complete with a real miniature house. Deep thanks also to Greg Villepique and Ryan Willard at Harper Ecco.
Marga de Boer at Luitingh-Sijthoff, for her excellent observations on the infrastructure of Amsterdam, on the life of the real Petronella Oortman and her husband Johannes, and for legal and civic accuracies in late seventeenth-century Holland. Any inaccuracies and flights of fancy are mine alone, and my Nella’s biography is a completely fictional creation.
For the Medical Advice: thank you to Jessica Cutler, Prasanna Puwanarajah and Victoria Scott. Again, any anomalies are the fault of my over-active imagination alone.
For the hawk-eyes: Gail Bradley.
Edward Behrens & Penny Freeman, who so kindly let me isolate myself in their respective houses, where there was no internet – just time, and peace, and quiet. And wine.
Sasha Raskin, for handling The Miniaturist in the USA so brilliantly.
And:
To my agent, Juliet Mushens: consigliera, champion, superstar, friend. For making this experience so fun, so wonderful – you are an exceptional agent and an astonishing human being.
To Linda and Edward, also known as Mum and Dad. For reading to me when I was little, for taking me to the library and for buying me books. For saying, ‘Why don’t you write a story?’ when I was bored at six years old, at twelve, at twenty-seven. For always, always being there.
To Margot, for being nothing but a useless ball of fur who stamps on my keyboard.
And to Pip. I don’t know how to begin. For seven years of love and friendship, thought, hilarity and wonder – thank you. You are extraordinary. My lucky soul.
THE MINIATURIST
JESSIE BURTON was born in 1982. She studied at Oxford University and the Central School of Speech and Drama, and has worked as an actress and a PA in the City. She now lives in south-east London, not far from where she grew up.