The judges, notwithstanding, acquitted Tyckelaer from every
charge; at the same time sentencing Cornelius to be deposed
from all his offices and dignities; to pay all the costs of
the trial; and to be banished from the soil of the Republic
for ever.
This judgment against not only an innocent, but also a great
man, was indeed some gratification to the passions of the
people, to whose interests Cornelius de Witt had always
devoted himself: but, as we shall soon see, it was not
enough.
The Athenians, who indeed have left behind them a pretty
tolerable reputation for ingratitude, have in this respect
to yield precedence to the Dutch. They, at least in the case
of Aristides, contented themselves with banishing him.
John de Witt, at the first intimation of the charge brought
against his brother, had resigned his office of Grand
Pensionary. He too received a noble recompense for his
devotedness to the best interests of his country, taking
with him into the retirement of private life the hatred of a
host of enemies, and the fresh scars of wounds inflicted by
assassins, only too often the sole guerdon obtained by
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
honest people, who are guilty of having worked for their
country, and of having forgotten their own private
interests.
In the meanwhile William of Orange urged on the course of
events by every means in his power, eagerly waiting for the
time when the people, by whom he was idolised, should have
made of the bodies of the brothers the two steps over which
he might ascend to the chair of Stadtholder.
Thus, then, on the 20th of August, 1672, as we have already
stated in the beginning of this chapter, the whole town was
crowding towards the Buytenhof, to witness the departure of
Cornelius de Witt from prison, as he was going to exile; and
to see what traces the torture of the rack had left on the
noble frame of the man who knew his Horace so well.
Yet all this multitude was not crowding to the Buytenhof
with the innocent view of merely feasting their eyes with
the spectacle; there were many who went there to play an
active part in it, and to take upon themselves an office
which they conceived had been badly filled, — that of the
executioner.
There were, indeed, others with less hostile intentions. All
that they cared for was the spectacle, always so attractive
to the mob, whose instinctive pride is flattered by it, —
the sight of greatness hurled down into the dust.
“Has not,” they would say, “this Cornelius de Witt been
locked up and broken by the rack? Shall we not see him pale,
streaming with blood, covered with shame?” And was not this
a sweet triumph for the burghers of the Hague, whose envy
even beat that of the common rabble; a triumph in which
every honest citizen and townsman might be expected to
share?
“Moreover,” hinted the Orange agitators interspersed through
the crowd, whom they hoped to manage like a sharp-edged and
at the same time crushing instrument, — “moreover, will
there not, from the Buytenhof to the gate of the town, a
nice little opportunity present itself to throw some
handfuls of dirt, or a few stones, at this Cornelius de
Witt, who not only conferred the dignity of Stadtholder on
the Prince of Orange merely vi coactus, but who also
intended to have him assassinated?”
“Besides which,” the fierce enemies of France chimed in, “if
the work were done well and bravely at the Hague, Cornelius
would certainly not be allowed to go into exile, where he
will renew his intrigues with France, and live with his big
scoundrel of a brother, John, on the gold of the Marquis de
Louvois.”
Being in such a temper, people generally will run rather
than walk; which was the reason why the inhabitants of the
Hague were hurrying so fast towards the Buytenhof.
Honest Tyckelaer, with a heart full of spite and malice, and
with no particular plan settled in his mind, was one of the
foremost, being paraded about by the Orange party like a
hero of probity, national honour, and Christian charity.