# The Silent Prince/Chapter 29

CHAPTER XXIX.
LEAVES FROM A JOURNAL.
An abiding faith in God will make an ordinary life sublime. Agatha Chenoweth’s religion was no half-hearted, conditional faith, no haggling across the counter of Infinity for the good things of this world, but a silent confidence in an overruling Providence, a submissive filial obedience, quiet in its development, yet including the whole divine mystery of spiritual growth. God was to her an all-wise Father, loving her while He chastened her; and her answering love was perfect in its childlike simplicity and trust.
Such thoughts occupied Conrad Chenoweth’s mind as he read a packet of letters he had just received from his mother. To his surprise they were dated at Leyden.
“My dear Conrad:
“It has seemed wise for me to keep a journal of the events as they occur from time to time, so that if we are ever reunited we may look these records over, and recall the wondrous ways through which ​God has led us. It will also help to relieve the tedium of the weary days and weeks of waiting.
“Of the journey to North Holland, I will say but little. It was long and comparatively uneventful. We came near falling into the hands of Spanish troopers, but were rescued each time by the 'Gueulx.’ When we reached the river, which separated us from our destination, the ferryman utterly refused to be bribed to carry us across, fearing thereby he should lose his head. But a ‘Wild Beggar’ rowed us over, for he declared his life was worthless, and he was willing, even proud, to risk it in so good a cause.
“We reached in time the old farmhouse on the Zuyder Zee, where Lysken’s brother lived. It was a long, low building, close to the great dyke, against which the sea ever roared and tumbled. Lysken’s relatives were Lutherans, and kind, hospitable people have we found them to be, not indulging in the feeling of animosity toward the Calvinists which so disturbed the two bodies of Protestants in Antwerp.
“To your little sister, our life in Friesland was one long holiday. She walked over the farm daily with old Job Segerson, fed the chickens and calves, and never wearied of watching the almost human solicitude of the parent storks for their young. These birds had erected a huge nest on the large chimney of the house. ​“I am using the past tense advisedly, for a terrible misfortune befell us and all who lived in our vicinity. A great deluge has wiped out the whole of Friesland, and at least twenty thousand persons in this province alone have been drowned. Sometimes it would seem as though for our sins God had turned His face from us. But, my dear son, the wrath of God is light, compared with the fury of man. He has sorely stricken us, but it is God's hand still—and it is right.
“It was All Saints’ Day when the gale, which had been blowing for a week from the northeast, reached a climax. We knew that Job Segerson’s farm and all the farms about were many feet below the sea level, and for days the wind had blown the spray completely over the dyke into the meadows beyond. Still, we did not fear any immediate danger. This great dyke had withstood the gales of centuries, and we felt confident it would weather this one. Besides, the wind could not always blow from the northeast.
“Despite our hopes, the storm continued unabated. Day after day the wind blew steadily from the same quarter, as if determined to bring death and destruction. The relentless waters of the Atlantic Ocean were piled up against the dyke, and we all felt that we must prepare for the worst. The cattle were turned loose from the barn to make shift for themselves. The members of the family went ​to the upper rooms of the house. Boats were suspended from the windows.
“Over and above the roar of the wind we heard the artillery of the great waves laying siege to the ancient dyke. Yet we were not afraid. Job read to us from his old Dutch Bible consoling words of Scripture, and commended us all to the mercy of God. We all felt that we were in the hands of a loving Father, who would care for us even in this dire extremity. We feared the violence of man, but the roaring and thundering of the mighty sea did not terrify our hearts, although it filled us with awe. The One who commanded the winds and the waves was our friend. We could safely trust Him. The crash came at last. The great dyke gave way, and the raging waters soon swept away everything in their path.
“When Job’s house began to tremble on its foundations, the boats were lowered and we all embarked on the seething waters. We were rescued by a schooner commanded by de la Marck, and on board this ‘Water Beggar’ were conveyed to Leyden, where we have taken up our residence for the present. I have enclosed some extracts of your father’s letters, which doubtless you will be glad to read,”
“...I have already written several letters to you, my beloved wife, but have as yet received no reply. This is not strange, considering the unset​tled condition of the times. We are all rejoicing over the great victory of Louis of Nassau at Heiliger Lee. This wooded eminence was old historic ground. Centuries before, a German warrior crushed Roman tyranny on this very spot. Again a battle was fought, this time not only for fatherland but for conscience. Surely God was with us, for Alva’s choice army was utterly routed. His veterans had not reckoned on the disadvantages they would have to meet. They soon floundered helplessly in the deceitful morasses, or fell into huge ditches with which the pastures were surrounded. The Prince’s army has won its first victory in the Netherlands!”
“. . .The Prince is engaged in strenuous efforts to raise more men and more money. The Landgrave of Hesse and the Elector of Saxony have promised substantial aid. The Prince has given all his ready money, sold his plate, jewels, and costly tapestries, and staked his all upon this hazardous enterprise. The people are giving as they did in Bible times—the rich sparingly and the poor liberally. The Prince has set a noble example, which I hope will be followed by the prosperous cities.”
“... We have sustained a crushing defeat. How can I write you about the fearful massacre at Jemmingen?
“The Duke of Alva was surprised to find that the veteran army of Spain was not invincible. ​When he recovered from his temporary amazement, his wrath was terrible. He decided to take the field in person and crush the rebellion. He did so, and Louis of Nassau lost at Jemmingen all that he had gained at Heiliger Lee. The poorly paid and underfed patriot troops mutinied and would not fight. Being hotly pushed, they fled. Seven thousand were either butchered or drowned, Louis, with a few survivors, escaped to Germany. But the Prince is not discouraged, far his trust is in God, and he firmly believes our cause is just. Do not become disheartened, my beloved wife. The darkest hour is just before the dawn.”