Part 15

"My friends," answered Ulenspiegel, "I am no madman but one that is repentant even to the point of starvation. For while my soul weeps for its sins, my stomach weeps for want of food. Good soldiers, and you, fair damosels, I see you well provided with ham and goose, with fat sausages and wine and beer and all manner of tartlets. Will you not give so much as a morsel to the wandering pilgrim?"

"Yes, yes, we will," cried the Flemish soldiers, "for the preacher hath a merry countenance."

And now they all began to throw him chunks of bread as though they had been balls, and Ulenspiegel did not cease from talking and from eating, astride as he was on the branch.

"Hunger," he said, "makes a man hard of heart and little apt for prayer, yet a piece of ham removes that evil disposition in no time."

"Look out for your head," shouted a sergeant as he threw him a bottle half full of wine. Ulenspiegel caught the bottle in mid-air, and began to drink in little gulps, talking all the while.

"If hunger, sharp and raging, is bane to the poor body of a pilgrim, there is something else that is equally harmful to his soul; nothing less than his fear that the generosity of his soldier friends may lead him on to drunkenness. For as a general rule the pilgrim is a right sober fellow, but when, as now, one soldier gives him a slice of ham, and another a bottle of beer, he is mightily afraid lest by drinking thus upon an empty, or nearly empty, stomach he may lose his head."

And even as he spoke, he caught hold of the leg of a goose that came whizzing to him through the air.

"This truly is a miracle," he cried, "that one should go fishing in the air for a bird of the field! And see! Hey, presto! it has disappeared, bone and all! Verily, what is it that is greedier than dry sand? I will tell you. A barren woman and a hungry man."

Scarcely had he spoken than he clapped his hand to his face, for two tartlets had flattened themselves, one on his eye, the other on his cheek. The gay girls who had thrown them laughed aloud, but Ulenspiegel made answer:

"Many thanks, my pretties, many thanks for thus embracing me with this jammy accolade."

Nevertheless the tartlets had fallen to the ground.

And then suddenly the drums began to beat, the fifes screamed, and the soldiers fell in again.

Monsieur de Beauvoir ordered Ulenspiegel to come down from his tree and to march by the side of the soldiers. Ulenspiegel would willingly have been parted from them by a hundred leagues, for he had gathered from the remarks let fall by certain thin-faced foot-soldiers that he was already under suspicion, and that he ran danger of being arrested for a spy; and if this was so, he knew that they would most certainly search his pockets, and have him hanged when they found the letters which he carried. So in a little while he purposely let himself stumble into the ditch which ran by the wayside, and as he fell he cried out loudly:

"Mercy, soldiers, mercy! My leg is broken, and now I cannot walk any more. You must let me get up into the cart with the girls!"

But to this he knew that the jealous sergeant would never consent.

The girls, meanwhile, cried out from the carts:

"Come, come, jolly pilgrim, and we will succour you, and caress and make much of you, and cure you all in a day."

"I know it," said Ulenspiegel, "for a woman's hand is balm celestial for all and every wound."

But the jealous sergeant consulted with Monsieur de Lamotte, saying:

"Sir, I suspect that this pilgrim is playing some trick upon us with his tale of a broken leg. All he wants is to have the chance of getting up into the cart with the girls. Order him rather to be left behind on the road."

"Very well," answered Monsieur de Lamotte.

So Ulenspiegel was left where he was in the ditch.

Some soldiers, who really believed that his leg was broken, were sorry for him because of his gaiety, and they left with him a two days' ration of food and wine. And the girls would have got down and run to his assistance, but as this was forbidden they threw him all that was left of their castrelins.

As soon as the soldiers had disappeared in the distance Ulenspiegel, still in his pilgrim's dress, recovered his liberty, purchased a horse, and rode like the wind by roads and by-paths to Bois-le-Duc.

When he told them the news of the approach of Monsieur de Lamotte, the townspeople flew to arms to the number of eight hundred men, and they chose out their leaders, and sent off Ulenspiegel, disguised as a charcoal-burner, to Antwerp to summon help from Hercule Brederode, surnamed the Toper.

And the soldiers of de Lamotte and de Beauvoir were able to gain no entry into Bois-le-Duc, most vigilant of cities, most valiant in defence.

XI

One day Simon Simonsen said to Ulenspiegel:

"Hearken, brother mine, and tell me, are you a brave man think you?"

"Brave enough," answered Ulenspiegel, "to whip a Spaniard to death, to kill an assassin, or to murder a murderer."

"Do you think you could hide yourself in a chimney and wait there patiently so as to overhear what was being said in the room below?"

"God has given me strong legs," answered Ulenspiegel, "and a supple back, and in virtue of these gifts I could stand a long time in whatever position I would, like a cat."

"Have you patience and a good memory?" asked Simon.

"The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast," answered Ulenspiegel.

"Very well then," said Simon, "you will take this playing card, folded as you see it, and you will go to Dendermonde to a house, a drawing of which I will give you, and you will knock at the door twice loudly and once softly. Some one will open to you and will ask if you are the chimney-sweep; you will answer that you are he and that you have not lost the card. Then you will show the card to him who opened the door. After that, Tyl, you must do as best you can. For great are the evils that are a-planning against the land of Flanders. And you will be conducted to a chimney that has been swept and cleaned against your arrival, and in it you will find a series of strong cramp-irons made ready for you to climb by, and a little wooden shelf securely fastened to the side of the chimney for a seat; and when he that has opened the door shall direct you, you will climb up into your hiding-place, and there remain. In the chamber below, and in front of the chimney where you will be hidden, a conference is to be held between certain noble Lords: William the Silent, Prince of Orange, and the Counts d'Egmont, de Hoorn, de Hoogstraeten, and Ludwig of Nassau, the brother of William. And we Reformers desire to find out whether these noble Lords are able and willing to undertake the saving of our country."

Well, on the first day of April, Ulenspiegel did as he had been bidden and took up his place in the chimney. Luckily for him there was no fire in the grate, and it seemed that the absence of smoke would not make it any the less easy for him to hear properly. After a little while the door of the room was opened, and Ulenspiegel was pierced through and through by a draught of cold wind blowing up the chimney. But he endured the wind with patience, telling himself that it would serve to keep him alert and attentive.

After a while he could hear my Lords of Orange, Egmont and the rest making their entrance into the room. They began by speaking of the fears they felt, of the wrath of the King and of the maladministration of the revenue and finances of the country. One of them spoke in a sharp, clear, and haughty tone of voice, which Ulenspiegel recognized as that of my Lord of Egmont; just as he recognized de Hoogstraeten by his husky tones, and de Hoorn by his loud voice, the Count Ludwig of Nassau by his firm and soldierly manner of speech, and William the Silent by that slow, deliberate way of enunciating his words as if they had all been thought out beforehand and weighed in a balance.

The Count d'Egmont asked why they had been summoned to this second conference when they had had plenty of time at Hellegat to come to a decision on what they meant to do. De Hoorn replied that the days passed quickly, that the King was growing angry, and that they must be careful to lose no time.

Then spake William the Silent.

"The country is in danger. It must be defended against the attack of a foreign army."

At this d'Egmont grew excited, and said that he was indeed astonished to hear that the King his master had thought it necessary to send an army when all was so peaceful by reason of the watchful care of their noble Lordships, and of himself especially.

But William the Silent made answer:

"King Philip already has an army in the Low Countries consisting of not less than fourteen regiments of artillery, and they are under the control of him who commanded them at Gravelines, a general to whom all the soldiers are devoted."

D'Egmont said that he could scarcely believe it.

"I will say no more," said William, "but there are certain letters which shall be read to you and to the assembled Lords, and to begin with, letters from the poor prisoner, Monsieur de Montigny."

And in these letters it was told how that the King was extremely vexed with what was happening in the Low Countries, and that when the hour was come he had determined to punish the fomenters of disturbance.

It was at this juncture that the Count d'Egmont complained of the cold, and desired to have the fire lit; the which was done while the two Lords continued their discussion of those letters. Now it was a big fire of wood, but it did not burn well on account of that big obstruction which was hidden in the chimney, and the room became quickly full of smoke.

Then the Count de Hoogstraeten began to read (for all that he was coughing continually because of the smoke) certain letters which had been intercepted on their way from Alava, the Spanish ambassador, to the Governess of the Netherlands.

"The ambassador," he said, "writes that all the evil that has happened in the Low Countries was the work of three men: the Lords of Orange, Egmont, and Hoorn. But it were desirable, he adds, to appear well disposed to these three, and to tell them that the King recognizes that it is thanks to them that their lands have been kept loyal to him. As for the two others, Montigny and de Berghes, let them alone where they are."

"Ah!" said Ulenspiegel, "I had rather a smoky chimney in the land of Flanders than a damp prison in the land of Spain; for garrotters grow between damp walls."

But the Count de Hoogstraeten continued:

"The said ambassador adds that on one occasion the King, being in the city of Madrid, spoke these words: 'By all accounts that come from the Low Countries it is evident that our royal reputation is diminished, and we are ready therefore to abandon all our other possessions rather than leave such a rebellion unpunished. We are decided to proceed to the Netherlands in person, and to claim the assistance of the Pope and of the Emperor. For beneath the present evil is concealed a future good. We shall reclaim the Low Countries to absolute obedience, and according to our own will we shall modify the constitution of that State, its religion and its government.'"

"Ah, King Philip," said Ulenspiegel, "if only I could modify yours to mine! Verily you would suffer, under the blows of my trusty Flemish stick, a wondrous modification of your thighs and arms and legs! I would fix your head in the middle of your back with a couple of nails, and as you viewed from this position the charnel-house you have created, you should sing at your good ease a pretty song of tyrannous modification!"

Now wine was brought, and de Hoogstraeten rose upon his feet and said:

"I drink to our country!" and every one followed his example, and when he had finished the toast he threw his empty tankard down on the table, and said: "Now sounds an evil hour for the nobility of Belgium. Let us take counsel as to how we may best defend ourselves."

He awaited some response, and looked at d'Egmont, but he uttered not a word, and it was left to William of Orange to break the silence.

"We can offer resistance," he said, "provided that the Count d'Egmont--who at Saint-Quentin and at Gravelines has twice made France to tremble and who holds complete sway over the Flemish soldiery--provided that he, I repeat, is willing to come to our assistance in our endeavour to prevent the Spaniard from entering the fatherland."

To this my Lord of Egmont made answer:

"I have too much respect for the King to think that it is right that we should take up arms against him like rebels. Let those who fear his wrath retire before it. I shall remain where I am, for I have no means of living if I am deprived of his help."

"Philip knows how to avenge himself most cruelly," said William the Silent.

"I trust him," answered d'Egmont.

"You would trust him with your heads?" asked Ludwig of Nassau.

"Head, body, and soul," replied d'Egmont.

"Friend, faithful and true, I will do likewise," said de Hoorn.

But William said:

"It behoves us to be far-sighted, and not to wait for things to happen."

And then my Lord of Egmont spoke again, very excitedly.

"I have arrested twenty-two Reformers at Grammont," he said, "and if their preachings come to an end, and if punishment is meted out to the iconoclasts, the anger of the King will be appeased."

But William said:

"These are mere hopes."

"Let us arm ourselves with trust," said d'Egmont.

"Let us arm ourselves with trust," echoed de Hoorn.

"It is cold steel rather than trust that should be our weapons," replied de Hoogstraeten.

Whereupon William the Silent made a sign to the effect that he wished to depart.

"Adieu, Prince without a country," said the Count d'Egmont.

"Adieu, Prince without a head," answered William.

"The sheep are for the butcher," said Ludwig of Nassau, "but glory waits the soldier that saves the land of his fathers."

"That I cannot," said d'Egmont, "neither do I desire to."

"May the blood of the victims fall once again upon the head of the flatterer," said Ulenspiegel.

And then those Lords retired.

Whereupon did Ulenspiegel come down from his chimney, and go straightway to carry the news to Praet. And the latter said: "D'Egmont is nothing better than a traitor. But God is with the Prince."

The Duke! The Duke at Brussels! Where are the safes and coffers that have wings?

XII

William the Silent went in the way by God appointed. As for the two Counts, they had already given themselves up to the Duke of Alba, who offered pardon to William as well if only he would appear before him.

At this news Ulenspiegel said to Lamme:

"My good friend, what do you think now? The Duke has sent out a summons through Dubois, the Attorney-General, by which the Prince of Orange, Ludwig his brother, de Hoogstraeten, Van den Bergh, Culembourg, de Brederode, and other friends of the Prince are cited to appear before him within forty days; and if they do this they are assured of justice and mercy. But listen, Lamme, and I will tell you a story. One day there was a Jew of Amsterdam who summoned one of his enemies to come down and join him in the street, for the Jew was standing on the pavement, but his enemy was looking out of a window just above. 'Come down at once,' said the Jew, 'and I will give you such a blow on the head as will squash it down into your chest, so that your two eyes will look out from your sides like the eyes of a thief from betwixt prison-bars.' But the other answered: 'Even if you promised me a hundred times as much, still I would not come down.' Even so may the Prince of Orange and his friends make reply to him that summons them!"

And so they did, refusing point-blank to appear before the Duke. But the Counts d'Egmont and de Hoorn were not of this mind. And their failure to do their duty brought them nearer to their doom.

XIII

One day in June, a fine warm day it was, a scaffold was set up in the market square at Brussels, in front of the Town Hall. The scaffold was draped in black, and close to it were two tall posts tipped with steel. On the scaffold were a couple of black cushions and a little table with a silver cross thereon.

And on this scaffold were beheaded the noble Counts d'Egmont and de Hoorn. And the King entered into their inheritance. And it was of the Count d'Egmont that the ambassador of Francis spake, saying:

"This day have I seen a man beheaded who twice made the Kingdom of France to tremble."

And the heads of the two Counts were placed upon the posts with the iron tips. And Ulenspiegel said to Lamme:

"With a black cloth have they covered both their flesh and their blood. Verily, blessed now are they who keep heart high and sword drawn in the dark days that are coming!"

XIV

In those days William the Silent gathered together an army and invaded the country of the Netherlands from three sides.

And Ulenspiegel was at a meeting of his countrymen at Marenhout. And they were wild with anger and he addressed them in this wise:

"Know you, my friends, that King Philip has taken counsel with the Holy Inquisition, and by their advice he has declared all the inhabitants of the Netherlands to be guilty of high treason. And the charge against them is one of heresy, namely, that either they are heretics themselves, or else that they have put no obstacles in the way of the spread of heretical doctrine. And for this execrable crime the King has condemned them all, without regard to age or sex, to suffer the appropriate penalties--all except a few here and there that are exempted by name. And there is no hope of grace or pardon. And the King will enter into their inheritance. For the scythes of Death are busy through all the wide land that borders the North Sea: the Duchy of Emden, the river-land of Amise, and the countries of Westphalia and of Cleves, of Juliers and Liége, together with the Bishoprics of Cologne and Treves and the lands of France and Lorraine. The scythes of Death are busy over more than three hundred leagues of our soil, and in two hundred of our walled towns, in a hundred and fifty boroughs, in the countrysides and villages and level lands of the whole country. And the King is taking all for his own. And I tell you," Ulenspiegel continued, "that eleven thousand executioners will not be too many for this business. But the Duke of Alba calls them soldiers. And all the land of our fathers is become a charnel-house. Fugitive are all the arts of peace, and all the crafts and industries abandon us now to enrich those foreign lands which still permit a man to worship at home the God of conscience. But here the scythes of Death are busy, and the King takes all for his own.

"Our country, as you know, had gained various privileges by gifts of money to princes when they were in need. But now these privileges have all been annulled. And as the result of many an agreement made between ourselves and our overlords we had hoped to enjoy the wealth that came to us as the fruit of our labours. Yet were we deceived. The stone-mason builded for the incendiary, the labourer laboured for the thief. And the King takes all for his own.

"Blood and tears! Everywhere naught but blood and tears! For the scythes of Death are busy--busy at the places of execution and at the trees that serve for gallows by the roadsides; and at many an open grave wherein are thrown the living bodies of our maids. And they are busy in the prison dungeons and within those circles of faggots that flame around the victims, scorching them little by little to death; or in the huts of straw where they fall suffocated in the fire and the smoke. And the King takes all for his own. And this, forsooth, by the will of the Pope of Rome. The very cities teem with spies that await their share of the plunder. The richer one is the more likely one is to be found guilty. And the King takes all for his own.

"But never shall the valiant men of Flanders suffer themselves to be butchered thus like lambs. For among those who fly away for refuge there are some who carry arms, and these are hiding in the woods....

"The monks verily have denounced them and hold themselves free to kill them and take possession of their goods. But by night and day these refugees, banded together like wild beasts, rush down upon the monasteries and seize the money that has been stolen from the poor, and take it away under the form of candlesticks and reliquaries of gold and silver, ciboria and patens, and other precious vessels of the kind.... Do I not speak truth, my friends? And they drink therefrom that wine which the monks had been keeping for themselves. And when melted down or mortgaged, these vessels will serve to provide money for the Holy War. Long live the Beggarmen!

"And even now they begin to harass the soldiers of the King, killing and plundering, then back into their lairs. And in the woods by day and night are to be seen the fires which have been lit during the hours of darkness, flaring up or dying down and ever breaking out in some fresh place. These are the fires of our banquetings. All for us the game of the woods, both furred and feathered. We are the masters here. And the peasants load us with bread and bacon whenever we are in need. Look at them Lamme; fierce and talkative, resolute and proud of bearing, they wander through the woods. And they are armed with hatchets and halberds, and with long swords and bragmarts, with arquebuses, pikes, lances, and crossbows. For any kind of weapon is good enough for such brave men, and they need no officers to lead them. Long live the Beggarmen!"

And Ulenspiegel sang this song:

Beat the drum! Beat the drum! Drums of war! Slit the carcass of the Duke, Flog him on his hangman's face! To the death with the murderer!

Beat the drum! Beat the drum! Drums of war! With the victims of his wrath Foul corruption let him share! But long live the Beggarmen!

Christ from Heaven look Thou down, Look upon thy soldiers true, That risk hanging, fire, and sword For thy Word! And for their dear Fatherland! Beat the drum! Beat the drum! Drums of war!

And all drank the toast and cried aloud:

"Long live the Beggarmen!"

And Ulenspiegel drank in his turn from a golden goblet that had once belonged to some monk or other, and proudly he gazed on the wild faces of the brave Beggarmen that stood before him.

"Men," he cried, "wild beasts rather that are my comrades, be you wolves lions, or tigers in very deed, and eat up all the cursed dogs of this King of Blood!"

"Long live the Beggarmen!" they shouted, and yet again they sang the song of

Beat the drum! Beat the drum! Drums of war!

XV

William the Silent, with his army, was at the gates of Liége. But before crossing the Meuse he made sundry marches and counter-marches, leading the Duke astray, for all his vigilance.

Ulenspiegel applied himself most diligently to his duties as a soldier, worked his arquebus most skilfully, and kept his eyes and ears wide open.

Now at that time there arrived in the camp certain gentlemen of Flanders and Brabant, and these lived in friendly fashion with the colonels and captains of the Prince's following.

But soon there came into being two parties in the camp, who began to dispute one with the other continually, some saying that William was a traitor, others that such accusation was a gross libel on the Prince, and that they who had made it should be forced to eat their words. Suspicion grew and grew like a spot of oil, and at length they came to blows--small companies of six, eight, or a dozen men fighting together in single combat, with all kinds of weapons and sometimes with arquebuses even.