HUGO GROTIUS AND HIS BOOK CHEST.
WHEN Prince Maurice of Nassau, son of the great Prince of Orange, was stadtholder—that is to say, governor—of Holland two men stood in the way of his rise to arbitrary power. One of them was the advocate, Olden Barneveld, the other his young friend and adviser, Hugo Grotius. Hugo De Groot, generally known as Grotius, was born in Delft, April 10, 1583. He entered the University of Leyden, after a very rigorous examination, at the age of twelve; at fourteen he defended, publicly and with much applause, theses in mathematics, philosophy, and jurisprudence, took his degree as Bachelor of Arts, and published a translation of a learned Latin work, with copious original notes. At the age of seventeen he began the practice of law at the Hague, where he soon mounted high in political power, besides being famous for his legal and literary attainments. This was the man whom Prince Maurice sought to sweep from his path along with Olden Barneveld. He succeeded in procuring their arrest and trial. Barneveld was beheaded in the Hague, and Grotius was condemned to imprisonment for life in the gloomy castle of Loevenstein. Through thirteen doors, each secured with heavy bolts and locks, the prisoner was conducted to the narrow rooms designed for his living tomb. The commandant of the fortress was Lieutenant Prouninx, generally known as Deventer, a bitter enemy of Grotius, so that the only consolations the prisoner had were granted by the states-general. Chief of these was the daily visit of his wife and their little daughter Cornelia. Madam De Groot was allowed to purchase food for her husband's table in the little town of Gorcum, just across the Waal, and to cook it in the kitchen of the prison, assisted by her maid Elsie, a comely lass of twenty. It was through her efforts also that books, the chief joy of his captivity, were conveyed to Grotius in his prison. These were loaned to him by his friends, his own library having been confiscated along with the rest of his property. The sister of one of these good friends was the wife of a tradesman named Daatsalaer, living in the town of Gorcum, and was frequently visited by Madam De Groot. To her house the books were sent, and were carried from it to the prison in a large chest, for the great black-letter folios of that day were excessively bulky and heavy. After the books were read, they were returned from the prison again to be exchanged for others, so the weight of the prisoner's book chest became a frequent subject of grumbling among the soldiers intrusted with its carriage to and from the ferry. In his gloomy prison Grotius wrote many works, which carried his fame throughout the whole civilized world. Poems, translations, learned treatises, and moral essays flowed from his pen, and the book chest went back and forth more frequently than ever. But all this work began to tell upon the health of the imprisoned man. "Our bird does not beat his wings against the cage nor mope upon his perch," Madam de Groot said, sadly, to her friend, Dame Daatsalaer, "but I see him pining. Oh, that I could give him wings, and open the bars!" One day a committee of the states-general visited the prisoner in his two little rooms, where they found him writing at the table while his wife sat beside him patching the sleeve of an old velvet doublet. Information had been lodged that Grotius had been planning escape. It was said that Madam De Groot had been seen buying some strong rope at Gorcum, and the committee had come to inquire into the matter. Accordingly, they ransacked everywhere, turning over manuscripts, books, and clothing, but finding nothing. "Take especial heed to this chest, Master Lieutenant," said Mius Van Holy, peering suspiciously into the chest. "Methinks that here is space for much contraband goods beside all this learned lumber." But nothing was there save the great folios, and the committee were obliged to withdraw. Grotius stooped to replace one of the books, but his wife stayed his hand, and stood looking at the empty box as though a new thought had struck her. "Space for much contraband goods," said that knave, Van Holy," said she at last. "Hugo, it might be that he spake more wisely than he knew; it might be space for a man." The eyes of Grotius brightened for a moment; but he presently shook his head. "Enough for his coffin, mayhap," he said, "but not for his living carriage. The chest is but four feet in length—small space for a long-limbed man." "It may be done," cried Madam De Groot, vehemently. "Under these ornaments are air-holes. Lay by your doublet, Hugo, and make the attempt at least." So the attempt was made, and Grotius found that by coiling up his limbs he could really manage to lie in the chest with the lid closed. "Let us try it for an hour," said Madam De Groot. "There, I have turned the hour-glass; knock on the lid if you cannot endure to the next turning." Strengthened by the hope of escape, Grotius patiently endured the cramped position for the hour. The next day there was another trial; and this time the hour-glass was turned for the second time. The vision of escape began to grow brighter. Still, the hazard was so great and the risks so terrible that the attempt was put off from day to day, until there was no knowing how long they might have hesitated had not little Cornelia innocently given the signal for action. It was Sunday, the 21st of March, 1631. A wild equinoctial storm was raging, with sheets of rain dashing against the windows and wind howling around the fortress. In a temporary lull in the storm the bells of Gorcum could be heard ringing. "What mean those merry peals?" asked Grotius, looking up from the pictured pages of the Testament he was showing to his little daughter. "They must be ringing for the opening of the great fair," said Madam De Groot. "And to-morrow would be the right time for my papa to go to Gorcum," said little Cornelia; "for Madam Daatsalaer says that all exiles and outlaws may come to Gorcum on the fair days, and none dare harm them till they are past." Grotius softly set the child from off his knee and passed into the bedroom, making signs to his wife to follow him. "Wife," said he, taking her by the hand and speaking in a low tone, "it may be that the Lord himself speaks by the mouth of the innocent child; what think you?" "Hugo, I well believe the time has come," answered Madam De Groot, breathing quickly. "Let us put it by no longer!" In the midst of their agitation over the hasty resolve a grating of the locks was heard, and Deventer appeared. He informed them that he was to leave the fortress for a few days, as he had been promoted to a captaincy, and must go to Heusden to receive his company. After he had gone, Madam De Groot summoned her faithful maid Elsie and told her all, asking her if she would be willing to take charge of the book chest and its precious contents in case it should be sent to Gorcum the next day. The maid quailed for a moment, but soon plucked up courage to say that she would take it, and would do her best. "You are a good girl, Elsie," said Madam De Groot, the tears shining in her keen eyes, "and I am well persuaded that you will never have to repent of what you do." The next day was still wet and stormy, and the waters of the Waal were swollen and turbid. Dressed only in his linen underclothing, Grotius curled himself up in his chest with his head resting on a large pictured Testament for a pillow. His anxious wife propped his cheek with a bunch of soft thread, and padded the curves of his body with rolls of linen and paper; then with a solemn and tearful farewell she closed and fastened the chest, kissed the lock with streaming eyes, and gave the key to Elsie. The clothes Grotius had taken off were thrown over the back of a chair beside the bed, the bed curtains were carefully drawn, and the soldiers summoned to carry the chest to the boat that waited for it. "Heavier than ever," grumbled the men as they lumbered after Elsie down the stair. "The prisoner himself must be in here to-day, besides his ponderous books." At this Elsie laughed in the most free-hearted way possible. The court of the prison was reached, and now came the first great danger. Should the commandant's wife, who was now in charge of the prison, inspect the books that were leaving the fortress all would be lost. She might have done so had the weather been fair, but at the sight of the wet court-yard where the chest stood in the driving rain, she had no good-will to venture into it, so the box with its precious load was safely passed through the gates of Loevenstein. Two sailors lifted the chest on board of the ferry-boat, talking as the soldiers had done about the heaviness of the load, and a second time jestingly accusing Elsie of carrying off the prisoner as well as his books. Seated beside the chest on the wind-swept deck of the little boat, Elsie covered her head with a white handkerchief, the ends of which she allowed to flutter in the wind.738 "Your 'kerchief will hardly keep your pretty head dry, mistress," said one of the sailors. "I wear it as a signal to a fellow-servant with wits not so thick as your own," said saucy Elsie. It was, in truth, a signal to let Madam De Groot know that all was well, and Elsie knew that at that moment the eyes of her mistress were straining at the window to see whether she wore the white handkerchief or sat with her face buried in her hands as a token of failure. The swollen waters of the Waal were passed, the town of Gorcum was reached, and the precious chest was safely carried to the house of Daatsalaer. The shop of the mercer was thronged with customers, and Elsie ordered the men to carry the chest to the room beyond, and there deliberately paid and dismissed them. Then beckoning Madam Daatsalaer aside, she said, "Madam, I have brought my master; he is in the room within there." The suddenness of this speech was dangerous, for Madam Daatsalaer uttered a cry which drew the attention of all in the shop. But recovering herself, and making the excuse that she had caught her hand in the drawer, she wrapped it hastily in her apron, and followed Elsie into the next room. "Master! master!" cried Elsie, rapping on the lid of the chest. "Oh, my master!" cried the girl, wringing her hands. "He is dead! surely he is dead!" But at that moment there was a rap within the box. The lock was turned, the lid thrown back, and Grotius arose in his linen garments, looking, through exhaustion, almost as white as they. "Why are you so pale, madam?" said he, looking at good Dame Daatsalaer, who was white and trembling. "Alas! I am sorely frightened," said she, breaking into tears. "My lord, the whole world is talking of you, and there will be no keeping this hid." "Madam," said Grotius, with steadfast gentleness, "I am at this moment thanking God for the deliverance he has granted me, but sooner than harm shall befall you, I will enter the chest again and be carried back as I came." His sincerity and nobleness touched the good woman's heart. "No! no!" said she; "whatever comes, my husband and I will do all that we can to aid your escape." And so they did, for Daatsalaer spoke to a friend of his, a master mason named Petersen, who consented to take Grotius to Antwerp disguised as a journeyman bricklayer. Clad in a coarse doublet and trunk hose, carrying a trowel and a measuring-rod, Grotius traveled safely to Antwerp, in the Spanish Netherlands, and so came into the world again, and to the honor and fame which belonged to him. Meanwhile at Loevenstein all was confusion and tumult; a messenger was dispatched to Heusden to carry the news of the escape to Captain Deventer, who returned in hot haste, and rushed in rage to the rooms of Grotius. "Here is your cage," said Madam De Groot, with a taunting smile, "but your bird is flown." The commandant hurried to the house of Daatsalaer. There was the book chest and the Testament and the bundle of thread, but no further sign of Hugo Grotius, who had passed forever from the prison of Captain Deventer. The stadtholder was not so angry as had been expected; he even used his influence to have Madam De Groot released from the prison where she was for a short time held. She and Cornelia joined Grotius in France, where they found him honored as he deserved. Such is the story, and the true story, of Hugo Grotius and his famous book chest. —Harper's Young People.