Part 9

Then the heart of the prodigal son swelled with grief, and he said: "I must go to them."

"No," said Nele. "First you must do what Claes told me, just before he was taken away. 'Look to the money,' he said, 'it is hidden at the back of the grate. You must make sure of that first of everything, for it is the inheritance of poor Soetkin.'"

But Ulenspiegel would not hear aught and ran on quickly to the gaol. There he found Soetkin sitting at the gate. She embraced him with many tears, and they cried on one another's neck.

Knowing that they were there, the populace began to crowd in front of the prison. Then the sergeants arrived and told Soetkin and Ulenspiegel that they were to go away at once. So mother and son returned to Nele's cottage, which was next door to their own, and was being guarded by one of the foot-soldiers who had been sent for from Bruges in case there might be trouble during the trial and execution of Claes. For it was well known that the people of Damme loved him exceedingly.

The soldier was sitting on the pavement in front of the door, draining the last drops of brandy from a flask. Finding it was all gone he threw the flask away and was amusing himself by dislodging the stones on the path with the point of his dagger.

Soetkin went in to Katheline, crying most bitterly.

But Katheline said: "Fire! Fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!" And she kept wagging her head.

XXXIX

Borgstorm, the great bell of Damme, had summoned the judges to judgment. It was four o'clock, and now they were collected together at the Vierschare, around the Tree of Justice.

Claes was brought before them. Seated upon the dais was the high bailiff of Damme, and by his side, opposite Claes, the mayor, the alderman, and the clerk of the court.

The populace ran together at the sound of the bell. A great crowd they were, and many of them were saying that the judges were there to do--not justice--but merely the will of His Imperial Majesty....

After certain preliminaries, the high bailiff began to make proclamation of the acts and deeds for which Claes had been summoned before that tribunal.

"The informer," he said, "had been staying by chance at Damme, not wishing to spend all his money at Bruges in feasting and festivity as is too often the case during these sacred occasions. On a time, then, when he was taking the air soberly on his own doorstep, he saw a man walking towards him along the rue Héron. This man Claes also saw, and went up to him and greeted him. The stranger, who was dressed all in black, entered the house of Claes, leaving the door into the street half open. Curious to find out who the man was, the informer went into the vestibule, and heard Claes talking to the stranger in the kitchen. The talk was all about a certain Josse, the brother of Claes, who it seems had been made prisoner among the army of the Reformers, and had suffered the punishment of being broken alive on the wheel of torture, not far from Aix. The stranger said that he had brought Claes a sum of money which his brother had desired to leave him, which money having been gained from the ignorant and poverty-stricken, it behoved Claes to spend it in bringing up his own son in the Reformed Faith. He also urged Claes to quit the bosom of our Holy Mother Church, and spake also many other impious words to which the only reply vouchsafed by Claes was this: 'The cruel brutes! Alas, my poor Josse!' So did the prisoner blaspheme against our Holy Father the Pope and against His Royal Majesty, accusing them of cruelty in that they rightly had punished heresy as a crime of treason against God and man. When the stranger had finished the meal that Claes put before him, our agent heard Claes cry out again: 'Alas, poor Josse! May God keep thee in his glory! How cruel they were to thee!' And thus did he accuse God himself of impiety by this suggestion that He could receive a heretic into His heaven. Nor did Claes ever cease to cry aloud: 'Alas! Alas! My poor Josse!' The stranger then, launching out into a frenzy, like a preacher beginning his sermon, fell to revile most shamefully our Holy Mother the Church. 'She will fall,' he shouted, 'she will fall, the mighty Babylon, the whore of Rome, and she will become the abode of demons, and the haunt of every bird accursed.' And Claes meanwhile continued the same old cry: 'Cruel brutes! Alas, poor Josse!' And the stranger went on in the same way as he had begun, saying: 'Verily an angel shall appear that shall take a stone that is great as a millstone, and shall cast it into the sea, crying: "Thus shall it be done to Babylon the mighty, and she shall be no more seen."' Whereupon, 'Sir,' says Claes, 'your mouth is full of bitterness; but tell me, when cometh that kingdom in which they that are gentle of heart shall be able to dwell in peace upon the earth?' 'Never,' answered the stranger, 'while yet my Lord Antichrist rules, that is the Pope, who is to-day the enemy to all truth.' 'Ah,' said Claes, 'you speak with little respect of the Holy Father. But he, surely, is ignorant of the cruel punishments which are meted out to poor Reformers.' 'Not at all,' answered the stranger, 'and far from it, for it is he who initiates the decrees and causes them to be put into force by the Emperor, now by the King. The latter enjoys all the benefits of confiscation, inherits the property of the dead, and finds it easy to bring charges of heresy against those who have any wealth.' Claes said: 'Indeed I know that such things are freely spoken of in the land of Flanders, and one may well believe them, for the flesh of man is weak, even though the flesh be royal flesh. O my poor Josse!' And by this did Claes give to understand that heretics are punished because of a vile desire on the part of His Majesty for filthy lucre. The stranger wished to argue the matter further, but Claes said: 'Please, sir, do not let us continue this conversation, for if it were overheard I might easily find myself involved in some awkward inquiry.' Then Claes got up to go to the cellar, whence he presently returned with a pot of beer. 'I am going to shut the door,' said he, and after that the informer heard nothing more, for he had to make his way out of the house as quickly as he could. Not till it was night was the door again opened, and then the stranger came forth. But he soon returned, knocking at the door and calling to Claes: 'It is very cold, and I know not where I am to lodge this night. Give me shelter, pray. No one has seen me. The town is deserted.' Claes welcomed him in, lit a lantern, and last of all he was seen to be leading the heretic up the staircase into a little attic room with a window that looked out on to the country."

At this Claes cried out: "And who could have reported all this but you, you wicked fishmonger! I saw you on Sunday, standing at your door, as straight as a post, gazing up, like the hypocrite you are, at the swallows in their flight!"

And as he spoke, he pointed with his finger at Josse Grypstuiver, the Dean of the Fishmongers, who showed his ugly phiz in the crowd of people. And the fishmonger gave an evil smile when he saw Claes betraying himself in this way. And the people in the crowd, men, women, and maids, looked one at the other and said: "Poor good man, his words will be the death of him without a doubt."

But the clerk continued his depositions.

"Claes and the heretic stayed talking together for a long time that night, and so for six other nights, during which time the stranger was seen to make many gestures of menace or of benediction, and to lift up his hands to heaven as do his fellow-heretics. And Claes appeared to approve of what he said. And there is no doubt that throughout these days and nights they were speaking together opprobriously of the Mass, of the confessional, of indulgences, and of the Royal Majesty...."

"No one heard it," said Claes, "and I cannot be accused in this way without any evidence."

The clerk answered:

"There is something else that was overheard. The evening that the stranger left your roof, seven days after he had first come to you, you went with him as far as the end of Katheline's field. There he asked you what you had done with the wicked idols"--here the bailiff crossed himself--"of Madame the Virgin, and of St. Nicholas and St. Martin. You replied that you had broken them all up and thrown them into the well. They were, in fact, found in the well last night, and the pieces are now in the torture-chamber."

At these words Claes appeared to be quite overcome. The bailiff asked if he had nothing to answer. Claes made a sign with his head in the negative.

The bailiff asked him if he would not recant the accursed thoughts which had led him to break the images, and the impious delusion whereby he had spoken such evil words against Pope and Emperor, who were both divine personages.

Claes replied that his body was the Emperor's, but that his soul was Christ's, whose law he desired to obey. The bailiff asked him if this law were the same as that of Holy Mother Church. Claes answered:

"The law of Christ is written in the Holy Gospel."

When ordered to answer the question as to whether the Pope is the representative of God on earth, he answered, "No."

When asked if he believed that it was forbidden to adore images of Our Lady and of the saints, he replied that such was idolatry. Questioned as to whether the practice of auricular confession was a good and salutary thing, he answered: "Christ said, confess your sins one to another."

He spoke out bravely, though at the same time it was evident that he was ill at ease and in his heart afraid.

At length, eight o'clock having sounded and evening coming on, the members of the tribunal retired, deferring their judgment until the morrow.

XL

The next day the great bell, Borgstorm, clanged out its summons to the judges of the tribunal. When they were all assembled at the Vierschare, seated upon the four benches that were set around the lime-tree, Claes was cross-examined afresh, and asked if he was willing to recant his errors.

But Claes lifted his hand towards heaven:

"The Lord Christ beholdeth me from on high," he said, "and when my son Ulenspiegel was born I also gazed upon His Sun. Where is Ulenspiegel now? Where is he now, the vagabond? O Soetkin, sweet wife, will you be brave in the day of trouble?"

Then looking at the lime-tree he cursed it, saying: "South wind and drouth, I adjure you to make the trees of our fathers perish one and all where they stand, rather than that beneath their shade freedom of conscience shall be judged to death! O Ulenspiegel, my son, where are you? Harsh was I unto you in days gone by. But now, good sirs, take pity on me, and be merciful to me in your judgment, even as Our Lord would be merciful."

And all that heard him wept, save only the judges.

Then Claes asked them a second time if they would not pardon him, saying:

"Truly I was always a hard-working man, and one that gained little for all his toil. I was good to the poor and kind to every one. And if I have left the Roman Church it is only in obedience to the spirit of God that spake to me. I ask for no grace except that the pain of fire may be commuted to a sentence of perpetual banishment from the land of Flanders. Banishment for life! A sufficient punishment that, surely!"

And all they that were present cried aloud:

"Have pity upon him! Have mercy!"

But Josse Grypstuiver held his peace.

Now the bailiff made a sign to the company that they should keep silence, adding that the placards contained a clause which expressly forbade the petitioning of mercy for heretics. But he said that if Claes would abjure his heresy he should be executed by hanging instead of by burning. And the people murmured:

"What matters burning or hanging, they both mean death!"

And the women wept and the men murmured under their breath.

Claes said:

"I will abjure nothing. Do to my body whatsoever is pleasing to your mercy."

Then spoke the Dean of Renaix, Titelman by name:

"It is intolerable that these vermin of heretics should raise up their heads in this way before their judges. After all, the burning of the body is but a passing pain, and torture is necessary for the saving of souls, and for the recantation of error, lest the people be given the dangerous spectacle of heretics dying in a state of final impenitence."

At these words the women wept still more, and the men said: "In those cases where the crime is confessed punishment may be rightly inflicted, but torture is illegal!"

The tribunal decided that since indeed it was a fact that the ordinances did not order torture to be applied in such cases, there was no occasion to insist that Claes should suffer it. He was asked once more if he would not recant.

"I cannot," he answered.

Then, in accordance with the ordinances, sentence was passed upon him. He was declared guilty of simony in that he had taken part in the sale of indulgences, and he was also declared to be a heretic and a harbourer of heretics, and as such he was condemned to be burned alive before the hoardings of the Town Hall. His body was to be left hanging on the stake for the space of two days as a warning to others, and afterwards it was to be interred in the place set apart for the bodies of executed criminals. To the informer, Josse Grypstuiver (whose name had never been mentioned throughout the whole trial), the tribunal ordered to be paid the sum of fifty florins calculated on the first hundred florins of the inheritance of the deceased, and a tenth part of the remainder.

When he heard the sentence that had been passed upon him, Claes turned to the Dean of the Fishmongers.

"You will come to a bad end," he said, "you wicked man that for a paltry sum of money have turned a happy wife into a widow, and a joyous son into a grieving orphan."

The judges suffered Claes to speak in this way for they also, all except Titelman, could not help despising from the bottom of their hearts the Dean of the Fishmongers for the information he had given. Grypstuiver himself went pale with shame and anger.

And Claes was led back to his prison.

XLI

On the morrow (which was the day before the execution of Claes) the decision of the court was made known to Nele, to Ulenspiegel, and Soetkin. They asked the judges for leave to visit Claes in prison, which permission was granted in the case of the wife and the son only.

On entering the prison cell they found Claes tied to the wall by a long chain. A small fire was burning in the grate because of the damp. For it is custom and law in Flanders that they who are condemned to death shall be gently treated and be given bread and meat to eat, or cheese and wine. Still gaolers are a greedy race, and oftentimes the law is broken, there being many prison guards who themselves eat up the greater part of the nourishment provided for the poor prisoners, or keep the best morsels for themselves.

Claes embraced Ulenspiegel and Soetkin, crying the while. But he was the first to dry his eyes, for he put control upon himself, being a man and the head of the family. Soetkin, however, went on crying, and Ulenspiegel kept muttering under his breath:

"I must break these wicked chains!"

And Soetkin said through her tears:

"I shall go to King Philip. He surely will have mercy!"

But Claes answered that this would be no use since the King was wont to possess himself of the property of those who died as martyrs.... He said also:

"My wife and child, my best beloved, it is with sadness and sorrow that I am about to leave this world. If I have some natural apprehension for my own bodily sufferings, I am no less concerned when I think of you and of how poor and wretched you will be when I am gone, for the King will certainly seize for himself all your goods."

Ulenspiegel made answer, speaking in a low voice for fear of being overheard:

"Yesterday Nele and I hid all the money."

"I am glad," Claes answered; "the informer will not laugh when he comes to count his plunder."

"I had rather he died than had a penny of it," said Soetkin with a look of hate in her eyes now dry of tears. But Claes, who was still thinking about the caroluses, said to Ulenspiegel:

"That was clever of you, Tyl, my lad; now Soetkin need not be afraid of going hungry in the old age of her widowhood."

And Claes embraced her, pressing her close to his breast, and she wept all the more bitterly as she thought how soon she was to lose his tender protection.

Claes looked at Ulenspiegel and said:

"My son, it was wrong of you to go running off along the high roads of the world like any ruffian. You must not do that any more, my boy. You must not leave her alone at home, my widow in her sorrow. For now it is your duty to protect her and take care of her--you, a man."

"I will, father," said Ulenspiegel.

"O my poor husband!" cried Soetkin embracing him again. "What crime can we have committed? Nay, we lived our life peaceably together, lowly and humbly, loving each other well--how well Thou, Lord, knowest! Early in the morning we rose for work, and at eventide, rendering our thanks to Thee, we ate our daily bread. Oh, would that I could come at this King, and tear him with my nails! For in nothing, O Lord God, have we offended!"

But here the gaoler entered and said that it was time for them to depart.

Soetkin begged to be allowed to stay, and Claes felt her poor face burning hot as it touched his, and her tears falling in floods and wetting all his cheek, and her poor body shaking and trembling in his arms. He, too, entreated the gaoler that she might be suffered to remain with him. But the gaoler was obdurate, and removed Soetkin by force from the arms of Claes.

"Take care of her," Claes said to Ulenspiegel.

He promised, and son and mother left the room together, she supported in his arms.

XLII

The next day, which was the day of the execution, the neighbours, out of pity for their suffering, came and shut up Soetkin and Nele and Ulenspiegel in Katheline's cottage. For they could not bear that they should see the terrible sight of the burning. Yet it had been forgotten that the far-off cries of the tormented one would reach the cottage, and that those within would be able to see through the windows the flames of the fire.

Katheline, meanwhile, went wandering through the town, wagging her head and crying out continually:

"Make a hole! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!"

At nine of the clock Claes was led out of his prison. He was dressed in a shirt only, and his hands were tied behind his back. In accordance with the sentence that had been passed upon him, the pile was set up in the rue Notre Dame, with a stake in the midst, just in front of the hoarding of the Town Hall. When they arrived there the executioner and his assistants had not yet completed the work of stacking the wood. Claes stood patiently in the midst of his tormentors watching while the work was finished, and all the time the provost on his horse, with the officers of the tribunal and the nine foot-soldiers that had been summoned from Bruges, had the greatest difficulty in keeping order among the people. For they murmured one to another, saying that it was cruelty thus to do to death unjustly a man like Claes, a poor man and already old in years, and one that was so gentle, so forgiving, and such a good and steady workman.

Suddenly they all fell upon their knees and began to pray, for the bells of Notre Dame were heard tolling for the dead.

Katheline also was among the crowd, right in the front, mad as she was. Fixing her eye on Claes and the pile of wood, she wagged her head and cried continually:

"Fire! Fire! Dig a hole! My soul wants to get out!"

When Nele and Soetkin heard the sound of the tolling they crossed themselves. But Ulenspiegel did not cross himself, saying that he would never pray to God after the same fashion as those hangmen. But he ran about the cottage, trying to force open the doors or jump from the windows. But they were shut and fastened well.

Suddenly Soetkin hid her face in her apron.

"The smoke!" she cried.

And in very fact, the three mourners could see, mounting high to heaven, a great eddy of smoke; all black it was, the smoke of the funeral pile whereon was Claes, tied to a stake, the smoke of that fire which the executioner had just set burning in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.

Claes looked around for Soetkin or Ulenspiegel. But not seeing them anywhere in the crowd he felt happier and more at ease, thinking that they would not know how he suffered. And all the time there was a silence like death, except for the sound of Claes' voice praying, and the crackling of the wood, the murmuring of men, the weeping of the women, the voice of Katheline as she cried: "Put out the fire! Make a hole! My soul wants to get out!" and over all, the bells of Notre Dame tolling for the dead.

Suddenly Soetkin's face went as white as snow, and her body trembled all over. She did not utter a sound, but pointed to the sky with her finger. For there a long, straight flame of fire had risen above the pyre, and now was leaping high above the roofs of the lower houses. It was a flame of pain and cruelty to Claes, for following the caprice of the breeze, it preyed upon his legs, or touched his head so that it smoked, licking and singeing his hair.

Ulenspiegel took Soetkin in his arms and tried to tear her away from the window. Then they heard a sharp cry, the cry which came from Claes when one side of his body was burnt by the dancing flames. But then he was silent again, weeping to himself. And his breast was all wet with his tears.

Thereafter Soetkin and Ulenspiegel heard a great noise as of many voices. This was the townsfolk, their wives and their children, who now began to cry and shout out all together:

"He was not sentenced to be burnt by a slow fire, but by a quick fire! Executioner, stir up the faggots!"

The executioner did so. But the fire did not flame up quick enough to please the mob.

"Kill him!" they shouted. "Put him out of his misery!" And they began to throw missiles at the provost.

Soetkin cried aloud: "The flame! The great flame!"

And in very truth they saw now a great red flame, mounting heavenwards, in the midst of the smoke.

"He is about to die," said the widow. "O Lord, of your mercy receive the soul of this innocent. Where is the King, that I may go and tear out his heart with my nails?"

And all the while the bells of Notre Dame kept tolling for the dead. Yet again did Soetkin hear a great cry from her husband; but mercifully she was spared the sight of his body writhing in the agony of the fire, and his twisted face, and his head that he turned from side to side and beat upon the wood of the stake. Meanwhile the crowd continued to shout and to hiss, and the boys threw stones, until all of a sudden the whole pile of wood caught alight, and the voice of Claes was heard crying out from the midst of the flame and smoke:

"Soetkin! Tyl!"

And then his head fell down upon his breast as though it were made of lead.

And there came a cry, most piteous and piercing, from the cottage of Katheline; and after that there was silence, except for the poor mad woman wagging her head and saying:

"My soul wants to get out!"

Claes was dead. The fire burned itself away, smouldering at the foot of the stake whereon the poor body still hung by its neck.

And the bells of Notre Dame tolled for the dead.

XLIII

In Katheline's cottage Soetkin stood leaning against the wall, with her head hanging down and her hands clasped together. She held Ulenspiegel in her arms, speechless and without a tear. Neither did Ulenspiegel say anything. It made him afraid to feel the burning fever that raged in the body of his mother.