Gabii, and the Great Conde, who watered his carnations at
the dungeon of Vincennes at the very moment when the former
meditated his return to Rome, and the latter his escape from
prison.
The judge summed up with the following dilemma: —
“Either Cornelius van Baerle is a great lover of tulips, or
a great lover of politics; in either case, he has told us a
falsehood; first, because his having occupied himself with
politics is proved by the letters which were found at his
house; and secondly, because his having occupied himself
with tulips is proved by the bulbs which leave no doubt of
the fact. And herein lies the enormity of the case. As
Cornelius van Baerle was concerned in the growing of tulips
and in the pursuit of politics at one and the same time, the
prisoner is of hybrid character, of an amphibious
organisation, working with equal ardour at politics and at
tulips, which proves him to belong to the class of men most
dangerous to public tranquillity, and shows a certain, or
rather a complete, analogy between his character and that of
those master minds of which Tarquin the Elder and the Great
Conde have been felicitously quoted as examples.”
The upshot of all these reasonings was, that his Highness
the Prince Stadtholder of Holland would feel infinitely
obliged to the magistracy of the Hague if they simplified
for him the government of the Seven Provinces by destroying
even the least germ of conspiracy against his authority.
This argument capped all the others, and, in order so much
the more effectually to destroy the germ of conspiracy,
sentence of death was unanimously pronounced against
Cornelius van Baerle, as being arraigned, and convicted, for
having, under the innocent appearance of a tulip-fancier,
Page 68
Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
participated in the detestable intrigues and abominable
plots of the brothers De Witt against Dutch nationality and
in their secret relations with their French enemy.
A supplementary clause was tacked to the sentence, to the
effect that “the aforesaid Cornelius van Baerle should be
led from the prison of the Buytenhof to the scaffold in the
yard of the same name, where the public executioner would
cut off his head.”
As this deliberation was a most serious affair, it lasted a
full half-hour, during which the prisoner was remanded to
his cell.
There the Recorder of the States came to read the sentence
to him.
Master Gryphus was detained in bed by the fever caused by
the fracture of his arm. His keys passed into the hands of
one of his assistants. Behind this turnkey, who introduced
the Recorder, Rosa, the fair Frisian maid, had slipped into
the recess of the door, with a handkerchief to her mouth to
stifle her sobs.
Cornelius listened to the sentence with an expression rather
of surprise than sadness.
After the sentence was read, the Recorder asked him whether
he had anything to answer.
“Indeed, I have not,” he replied. “Only I confess that,
among all the causes of death against which a cautious man
may guard, I should never have supposed this to be
comprised.”
On this answer, the Recorder saluted Van Baerle with all
that consideration which such functionaries generally bestow
upon great criminals of every sort.
But whilst he was about to withdraw, Cornelius asked, “By
the bye, Mr. Recorder, what day is the thing — you know
what I mean — to take place?”
“Why, to-day,” answered the Recorder, a little surprised by
the self-possession of the condemned man.
A sob was heard behind the door, and Cornelius turned round
to look from whom it came; but Rosa, who had foreseen this
movement, had fallen back.
“And,” continued Cornelius, “what hour is appointed?”
“Twelve o’clock, sir.”
“Indeed,” said Cornelius, “I think I heard the clock strike
ten about twenty minutes ago; I have not much time to
spare.”
“Indeed you have not, if you wish to make your peace with
God,” said the Recorder, bowing to the ground. “You may ask
for any clergyman you please.”
Saying these words he went out backwards, and the assistant
turnkey was going to follow him, and to lock the door of