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Page 29
Boxtel had not the good fortune of being rich, like Van
Baerle. He had therefore, with great care and patience, and
by dint of strenuous exertions, laid out near his house at
Dort a garden fit for the culture of his cherished flower;
he had mixed the soil according to the most approved
prescriptions, and given to his hotbeds just as much heat
and fresh air as the strictest rules of horticulture exact.
Isaac knew the temperature of his frames to the twentieth
part of a degree. He knew the strength of the current of
air, and tempered it so as to adapt it to the wave of the
stems of his flowers. His productions also began to meet
with the favour of the public. They were beautiful, nay,
distinguished. Several fanciers had come to see Boxtel's
tulips. At last he had even started amongst all the
Linnaeuses and Tourneforts a tulip which bore his name, and
which, after having travelled all through France, had found
its way into Spain, and penetrated as far as Portugal; and
the King, Don Alfonso VI. -- who, being expelled from
Lisbon, had retired to the island of Terceira, where he
amused himself, not, like the great Conde, with watering his
carnations, but with growing tulips -- had, on seeing the
Boxtel tulip, exclaimed, "Not so bad, by any means!"
All at once, Cornelius van Baerle, who, after all his
learned pursuits, had been seized with the tulipomania, made
some changes in his house at Dort, which, as we have stated,
was next door to that of Boxtel. He raised a certain
building in his court-yard by a story, which shutting out
the sun, took half a degree of warmth from Boxtel's garden,
and, on the other hand, added half a degree of cold in
winter; not to mention that it cut the wind, and disturbed
all the horticultural calculations and arrangements of his
neighbour.
After all, this mishap appeared to Boxtel of no great
consequence. Van Baerle was but a painter, a sort of fool
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
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?
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