"The Black Tulip," published in 1850, was the last of
Alexandre Dumas' more famous stories, and ranks deservedly
high among the short novels of its prolific author. Dumas
visited Holland in May, 1849, in order to be present at the
coronation of William III. at Amsterdam, and according to
Flotow, the composer, it was the king himself who told Dumas
the story of "The Black Tulip," and mentioned that none of the
author's romances were concerned with the Dutch. Dumas,
however, never gave any credit to this anecdote, and others
have alleged that Paul Lacroix, the bibliophile, who was
assisting Dumas with his novels at that time, is responsible
for the plot. The question can never be answered, for who can
disentangle the work of Dumas from that of his army of
helpers? A feature of "The Black Tulip" is that in it is the
bulb, and not a human being, that is the real centre of
interest. The fate of the bulb is made of first importance,
and the fortunes of Cornelius van Baerle, the tulip fancier,
of Boxtel, and of Rosa, the gaoler's daughter, exciting though
they are, take second place.
_I.--Mob Vengeance_
On the 20th of August, 1672, the city of The Hague was crowded in every
street with a mob of people, all armed with knives, muskets, or sticks,
and all hurrying towards the Buytenhof.
Within that terrible prison was Cornelius de Witt, brother of John de
Witt, the ex-Grand Pensionary of Holland.
These brothers De Witt had long served the United Provinces of the Dutch
Republic, and the people had grown tired of the Republic, and wanted
William, Prince of Orange, for Stadtholder. John de Witt had signed the
Act re-establishing the Stadtholderate, but Cornelius had only signed it
under the compulsion of an Orange mob that attacked his house at
Dordrecht.
This was the first count against the De Witts--their objection to a
Stadtholder. The second count was that the De Witts had always done
their best to keep at peace with France. They knew that war with France
meant ruin to Holland, but the more violent Orangists still believed
that such a war would bring honour to the Dutch.
Hence the popular hatred against the De Witts. A miscreant named
Tyckelaer fanned the flame against Cornelius by declaring that he had
bribed him to assassinate William, the newly-elected Stadtholder.
Cornelius was arrested, brought to trial, and tortured on the rack, but
no confession of guilt could be wrung from the innocent, high-souled
man. Then the judges acquitted Tyckelaer, deprived Cornelius of all his
offices, and passed sentence of banishment. John de Witt had already
resigned the office of Grand Pensionary.
On the 20th of August, Cornelius was to leave his prison for exile, and
a fierce Orangist populace, incited to violence by the harangues of
Tyckelaer, was rushing to the Buytenhof prepared to do murder, and
fearful lest the prisoner should escape alive. "To the gaol! To the
gaol!" yelled the mob. But outside the prison was a line of cavalry
drawn up under the command of Captain Tilly with orders to guard the
Buytenhof, and while the populace stood in hesitation, not daring to
attack the soldiers, John de Witt had quietly driven up to the prison,
and had been admitted by the gaoler.
The shouts and clamour of the people could be heard within the prison as
John de Witt, accompanied by Gryphus the gaoler, made his way to his
brother's cell.
Cornelius learnt there was no time to be lost, but there was a question
of certain correspondence between John de Witt and M. de Louvois of
France to be discussed. These letters, entirely creditable though they
were to the statesmanship of the Grand Pensionary, would have been
accepted as evidence of treason by the maddened Orangists, and
Cornelius, instead of burning them, had left them in the keeping of his
godson, Van Baerle, a quiet, scholarly young man of Dordrecht, who was
utterly unaware of the nature of the packet.
"They will kill us if these papers are found," said John de Witt, and
opening the window, they heard the mob shouting, "Death to traitors!"
In spite of fingers and wrists broken by the rack, Cornelius managed to
write a note.
DEAR GODSON: Burn the packet I gave you, burn without opening
or looking at it, so that you may not know the contents. The
secrets it contains bring death. Burn it, and you will have
saved both John and Cornelius.