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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

who tried to reproduce and disfigure on canvas the wonders

of nature. The painter, he thought, had raised his studio by

a story to get better light, and thus far he had only been

in the right. Mynheer van Baerle was a painter, as Mynheer

Boxtel was a tulip-grower; he wanted somewhat more sun for

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

his paintings, and he took half a degree from his

neighbour’s tulips.

The law was for Van Baerle, and Boxtel had to abide by it.

Besides, Isaac had made the discovery that too much sun was

injurious to tulips, and that this flower grew quicker, and

had a better colouring, with the temperate warmth of

morning, than with the powerful heat of the midday sun. He

therefore felt almost grateful to Cornelius van Baerle for

having given him a screen gratis.

Maybe this was not quite in accordance with the true state

of things in general, and of Isaac Boxtel’s feelings in

particular. It is certainly astonishing what rich comfort

great minds, in the midst of momentous catastrophes, will

derive from the consolations of philosophy.

But alas! What was the agony of the unfortunate Boxtel on

seeing the windows of the new story set out with bulbs and

seedlings of tulips for the border, and tulips in pots; in

short, with everything pertaining to the pursuits of a

tulip-monomaniac!

There were bundles of labels, cupboards, and drawers with

compartments, and wire guards for the cupboards, to allow

free access to the air whilst keeping out slugs, mice,

dormice, and rats, all of them very curious fanciers of

tulips at two thousand francs a bulb.

Boxtel was quite amazed when he saw all this apparatus, but

he was not as yet aware of the full extent of his

misfortune. Van Baerle was known to be fond of everything

that pleases the eye. He studied Nature in all her aspects

for the benefit of his paintings, which were as minutely

finished as those of Gerard Dow, his master, and of Mieris,

his friend. Was it not possible, that, having to paint the

interior of a tulip-grower’s, he had collected in his new

studio all the accessories of decoration?

Yet, although thus consoling himself with illusory

suppositions, Boxtel was not able to resist the burning

curiosity which was devouring him. In the evening,

therefore, he placed a ladder against the partition wall

between their gardens, and, looking into that of his

neighbour Van Baerle, he convinced himself that the soil of

a large square bed, which had formerly been occupied by

different plants, was removed, and the ground disposed in

beds of loam mixed with river mud (a combination which is

particularly favourable to the tulip), and the whole

surrounded by a border of turf to keep the soil in its

place. Besides this, sufficient shade to temper the noonday

heat; aspect south-southwest; water in abundant supply, and

at hand; in short, every requirement to insure not only

success but also progress. There could not be a doubt that

Van Baerle had become a tulip-grower.

Boxtel at once pictured to himself this learned man, with a

capital of four hundred thousand and a yearly income of ten

thousand guilders, devoting all his intellectual and

financial resources to the cultivation of the tulip. He

foresaw his neighbour’s success, and he felt such a pang at

the mere idea of this success that his hands dropped

powerless, his knees trembled, and he fell in despair from

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

the ladder.

And thus it was not for the sake of painted tulips, but for

real ones, that Van Baerle took from him half a degree of

warmth. And thus Van Baerle was to have the most admirably

fitted aspect, and, besides, a large, airy, and well

ventilated chamber where to preserve his bulbs and

seedlings; while he, Boxtel, had been obliged to give up for

this purpose his bedroom, and, lest his sleeping in the same

apartment might injure his bulbs and seedlings, had taken up

his abode in a miserable garret.

Boxtel, then, was to have next door to him a rival and

successful competitor; and his rival, instead of being some

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Categories: Dumas, Alexandre
curiosity: