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Updated: June 16, 2025
Because of this road, and others like it, Jonkheer Brederode had taken on a pilot at Stavoren, a man able to keep us off all hidden perils. He seemed to know every person on every heavily-laden peat-boat, or brightly painted eel-boat, and Nell insisted that even the families of wild ducks we met nodded to him as we went by.
And, seek as she might, Richberta could find no trace of her mysterious visitor. Richberta strove to discover the meaning of the old mans words. She was rich she possessed greater treasures than any in Stavoren, at a time when that city was among the wealthiest in Europe and yet she lacked the most precious of earths treasures.
She died in utter destitution. The sea that had for so many years been the blessing of Stavoren was now the destruction of the voluptuous city. One night it rose with immense power against the dunes, burst through them, and flooding the town with huge waves, buried it forever.
Saint Odulf was not an Englishman, his whole life having been spent at the monasteries of Utrecht and Stavoren in the Netherlands. Several miracles are recorded as having been worked by him both before and after death. To the monastery of Stavoren, which he had founded, his body belonged by right, but from here it was stolen and conveyed to England.
"On the right, mistress," answered the faithful servant, doubtful of what she meant. "Then," continued she coldly, "throw it from the left into the sea again." The day after the return of the fleet an animated scene was witnessed in the port of Stavoren.
Richberta was very anxious to learn what it was, that she might get it, and entreated her guest to name the precious thing. On the open sea, a proud fleet was sailing. Its commander, strange to say, did not himself know the aim of his journey. His mistress, Richberta of Stavoren, had directed him to travel to all parts of the world to find out and bring home the most costly treasure.
Arriving at Stavoren, the skipper reported to the merchant, to tell him of much money made, of a sound cargo obtained, of safe arrival, and, above all, plenty of what would please his wife; for what on earth could be more valuable than wheat, which makes bread, the staff of life? At lunch time, when the merchant came home, his wife wanted to know what made him look so joyful.
When we had arrived it was hard to realize that Stavoren had once been a place of vast importance, and that a powerful king had lived there in old, old days, for the bastion seemed the only thing of importance in the poor little town now. But no doubt the great sand-bank, with its famous legend of the Proud Lady, is enough to account for the decline.
The traveller who visits Cleve will still find a tombstone in its church with a knight carved on it, and a swan sitting at his feet. Stavoren A strange story is still told about the city of Stavoren on the Zuydersea. It was a wondrous town, but like Vineta on the Baltic Sea it vanished from the earth.
Of such sons, the fathers were proud, knowing that they would make brave sailors and navigate spice ships from the Indies. It was because of her brave mariners, that Stavoren had gained her glory and greatness, being famed in all the land. But now, within so short a time, the city's renown and wealth had faded like a dream.
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