And the Beggars sang on the ships: "Christ look down upon thysoldiers. Furbish our weapons, Lord. Long live the Beggar!"
And Nele, smiling, made the fife squeal amain, and Lamme beat thedrum, and aloft, towards the sky, God's temple, there were raisedgolden cups and hymns of liberty. And the waves, like sirens, brightand cool about the ships, murmured in harmony.
X
One day in the month of August, a hot and heavy day, Lamme was plungedin melancholy. His jolly drum was dumb and sleeping, and he had thrustthe drumsticks into the mouth of his satchel. Ulenspiegel and Nele,smiling with amorous delight, were warming themselves in the sun:the look-out men stationed in the tops were whistling or singing,searching over the wide ocean if they could not see some prey onthe horizon. Tres-Long kept questioning them; they still replied:"Niets," nothing.
And Lamme, pale and broken down, sighed piteously. And Nele saidto him:
"Whence cometh it, Lamme, that thou art so woebegone?"
And Ulenspiegel said to him:
"Thou art growing thin, my son."
"Aye," said Lamme, "I am woebegone and thin. My heart loses its gaietyand my jolly face its freshness. Aye, laugh at me, ye that have foundone another again through a thousand perils. Mock you at poor Lamme,who lives a widower, being married, while she," said he, pointingto Nele, "must needs tear her man away from the kisses of the rope,his last lover. She did well, God be praised; but let her not laughat me. Aye, thou must not laugh at poor Lamme, Nele, my dear. Mywife laughs enough for ten. Alas, ye females, ye are cruel towardsothers' woes. Aye, I have a grieved heart, stricken with the swordof desertion, and nothing will ever comfort it, if not she."
"Or some fricassee," said Ulenspiegel.
"Aye," said Lamme, "where is the meat in this miserable ship? On theking's vessels, they have meat four times a week, if there be no fast,and fish three times. As for the fish, God destroy me if this tow--Imean their flesh--does anything but kindle my blood for nothing,my poor blood that will go to water before long. They have beer,cheese, soup, and good drink. Aye! they have everything for thecomfort of their stomachs: biscuit, rye bread, beer, butter, smokedmeat, yea, all, dried fish, cheese, mustard seed, salt, beans, peas,barley, vinegar, oil, tallow, wood, and coal. We, we have just beenforbidden to take the cattle of any so-ever, be he citizen, abbot, orgentleman. We eat herrings and drink small beer. Alas! I have nothingleft now: neither love of women, nor good wine, nor dobbele-bruinbier,nor good food. Where are our joys here?"
"I will tell thee, Lamme," answered Ulenspiegel. "Eye for eye, toothfor tooth: at Paris, on Saint Bartholomew's night, they killed tenthousand free hearts in Paris city alone; the king himself shot athis folk. Awake, Fleming; seize the axe without mercy: there are ourjoys; smite the Spaniard and Roman enemy wherever thou shalt findhim. Let be thy eatables. They have taken the dead or living victimsto their rivers, and by full cartloads, and have flung them in thewater. Dead or alive, dost thou hear, Lamme? The Seine ran red fornine days, and the ravens settled down in clouds upon the town. AtLa Charite, at Rouen, Toulouse, Lyons, Bordeaux, Bourges, Meaux,terrible was the massacre. Seest thou the troops of dogs satiate witheating, lying beside the bodies? Their teeth are tired. The flightof the ravens is heavy, so laden are their stomachs with the fleshof the victims. Hearest thou, Lamme, the voice of their spiritscrying vengeance and pity? Awake, Fleming! Thou dost speak of thywife. I do not believe her unfaithful, but bereft of her wits, andshe loveth thee still, poor friend of mine: she was not among thosecourt ladies who on the very night of the massacre stripped the bodieswith their fine hands to see how great or how small were their carnalmembers. And they laughed, these ladies great in lewdness. Rejoice, myson, notwithstanding thy fish and thy small beer. If the after tasteof the herring is insipid, more insipid still is the smell of thisfoulness. Those that slew took their meals, and with ill-washen handscarved fat geese to offer the wings, legs, and rump to the charmingParis damozels. They had but lately felt other meat, cold meat."
"I will complain no more, my son," said Lamme, rising up: "the herringis ortolan; malvoisie is small beer to free hearts."
And Ulenspiegel said:
"Long Live the Beggar! Let us not weep, brothers. In ruins and blood
"Flowers the rose of liberty. If God is with us, who shall be against?
"When the hyaena triumphs, Comes the lion's turn, With one stroke of his paw he flings him, disbowelled, on the ground. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth. Long live the Beggar!"
And the Beggars on the ship sang:
"The Duke keeps the same fate for us. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, Wound for wound. Long live the Beggar!"
XI
On a black night the tempest growled in the depths of theclouds. Ulenspiegel was on the deck of the ship with Nele, and said:
"All our lights are out. We are foxes, watching by night for thepassing of the Spanish poultry, which is to say their two and twentyassabres, rich ships with lanterns burning, that will be to themstars of ill fortune. And we shall rush upon them."
Nele said:
"This night is a witches' night. This sky is black as the mouth ofhell; these lightnings gleam like the smile of Satan; the distantthunderstorm is growling dully; the sea-mews pass, uttering loud cries;the sea rolls its phosphorescent waves like silver serpents. Thyl,my beloved, come into the world of the spirits. Take the powderof vision."
"Shall I see the Seven, my darling?"
And they took the powder of vision.
And Nele shut Ulenspiegel's eyes, and Ulenspiegel shut Nele's eyes. Andthey beheld a cruel spectacle.
Heaven, earth, sea were full of men, of women, of children, toiling,wandering, journeying, or dreaming. The sea cradled them; the earthcarried them. And they swarmed like eels in a basket.
Seven men and women were in the middle of the firmament, seated uponthrones, their brows girt with a brilliant star, but they were soshadowy that Nele and Ulenspiegel could see only their stars withany distinctness.
The sea rose up to the sky, tumbling in its foam the innumerablemultitude of ships whose masts and rigging clashed together,interlocked, broke one another, crushed each other, following thetempestuous moving of the waves. Then one ship appeared in the midstof all the others. Its bottom was of flaming iron. Its keel was made ofsteel shaped and sharpened like a knife. The water cried out, groaning,when it went through. Death was upon the stern of the ship, seated,grinning, holding his scythe in one hand and in the other a whip whichhe smote upon seven personages. One was a man woebegone, thin, haughty,silent. He held in one hand a sceptre and in the other a sword. Besidehim, mounted upon a goat, there was a ruddy girl, with bared breast,her robe open, and a sprightly eye. She was stretched out lasciviouslybeside an old Jew picking up bits of rubbish and a big bloated fellowthat fell down every time she set him on his feet, while a thin andangry woman beat them both. The big man never avenged himself nordid his red-faced she-companion. A monk in their midst was eatingsausages. A woman lying on the earth, was crawling like a serpentamong the others. She bit the old Jew because of his old rubbish,the bloated man because he was too comfortable, the red woman forthe dewy brightness of her eyes, the monk for his sausage, and thethin man because of his sceptre. And soon all of them fell a-fighting.
When they passed, the battle was horrible on the sea, in the sky,and on the earth. It rained blood. The ships were broken with blowsof axes, arquebuses, and cannon shot. The shattered fragments flewinto the air in the midst of the powder smoke. On the earth armiesclashed together like walls of bronze. Towns, villages, harvestsburned amid cries and tears: tall spires, stone lace-work, held uptheir proud silhouettes in the midst of the fire, then fell downwith a crash like oak trees laid low. Black horsemen, numerous andclose arrayed as bands of ants, sword in hand, pistol in hand, weresmiting men, women, children. Some made holes in the ice and buriedold men alive in them; others cut off women's breasts and sprinkledpepper on the place; others hanged children in the fireplaces
. Thosewho were tired of killing violated some girl or some woman; drank,played dice, and tossing over piles of gold, the fruit of pillage,dabbled their red fingers in it.
The Seven, crowned with stars, cried: "Pity for the poor world!"
And the phantoms grinned with laughter. And their voices were as thevoices of a thousand sea-eagles crying together. And Death brandishedhis scythe.
"Dost thou hear them?" said Ulenspiegel; "they are the birds of preyof poor mankind. They live on small birds, which are the simple andthe good."
The Seven, crowned with stars, cried: "Love, justice, compassion!"
And the Seven phantoms laughed loudly. And their voices were likethe voices of a thousand sea-eagles crying all together. And Deathstruck them with his whip.
And the ship passed over the sea, cutting in two boats, vessels, men,women, children. On the sea reechoed the plaints of the victims crying:"Pity!"
And the red ship passed over them all, while the phantoms, laughing,cried like sea-eagles.
And Death, laughing loud, drank the water that was full of blood.
And the ship having disappeared in the mist, the battle ceased,and the Seven crowned with stars vanished away.
And Ulenspiegel and Nele saw nothing now save the black sky, thesurging sea, the dark clouds coming forward on the phosphorescent sea,and close at hand, red stars.
These were the lanterns of the two and twenty assabres. The sea andthe thunder were growling dully and faintly.
And Ulenspiegel rang the bell for the wacharm softly, and cried:"The Spaniard, the Spaniard! He is sailing for Flessingue!" And thecry was repeated throughout the whole fleet.
And Ulenspiegel said to Nele:
"A gray hue is spreading over the sky and over the sea. The lanternsburn now but feebly; the dawn lifts, the wind is freshening, thewaves throw their spume over the decks of the ships; a thick rainis falling and speedily ceases; the sun rises radiant, gilding thecrest of the waves: it is thy smile, Nele, fresh as the morning,sweet as the sun's ray."
The two and twenty assabres pass: on the ships of the Beggars thedrums are beating, the fifes are squealing: de Lumey cries: "In thePrince's name, to the chase!" Ewout Pietersen Wort, sub-admiral,cries: "In the name of Monseigneur d'Orange and the admiral, to thechase!" On all the ships, the Johannah, the Swan, Anne-Mie, the Beggar,the Compromise, the d'Egmont, the de Hoorn, on the Willem de Zwyger(the William the Silent,) all the captains cry: "In the name ofMonseigneur d'Orange and the admiral!"
"To the chase! Long live the Beggar!" cry the soldiers andsailors. Tres-Long's houlque, on which are Lamme and Ulenspiegel,and called Briele, followed closely by the Johannah, the Swan, andthe Beggar, take four assabres. The Beggars fling everything Spanishinto the sea, make the inhabitants of the Low Countries prisoners,empty the ships like eggshells, and leave them to float without mastsor sails in the roadstead. Then they pursue the other eighteen. Thewind blows violently; coming from Antwerp, the sides of the swiftships bend over in the water of the river beneath the weight ofthe sails swollen like a monk's cheeks in the wind that comes fromkitchens; the assabres go swiftly; the Beggars pursue them into thevery roadstead of Meddleburg under the fire from the forts. There abloody battle joins: the Beggars carrying axes rush on the decks ofthe ships, soon strewn with lopped-off arms and legs, that have to bethrown into the waves after the combat ends. The forts fire on them:they take no heed, and to the shout of "Long live the Beggar!" takefrom out the assabres powder, artillery, bullets, and corn; burnthe boats when they have emptied them; and make off to Flessingue,leaving them smoking and flaming in the roadsteads.
From there they will send squadrons to pierce the dykes of Zealand andHolland, to help in the construction of fresh ships, and notably offlyboats of one hundred and forty tons carrying up to twenty cannonof cast iron.
XII
On the ships it is snowing. The air is all white as far as eye cansee, and the snow falls without ceasing, falls softly upon the blackwater where it melts.
On the earth it is snowing: all white are the roadways, all whitethe black silhouettes of the trees bereft of their leaves. No soundbut the distant bells of Haarlem striking the hour, and the gay chimesending its muffled notes through the thick air.
Bells, ring not; bells, play not your sweet and simple airs: DonFrederic draws near, the dukeling of blood. He is marching upon thee,followed by thirty-five companies of Spaniards, thy mortal foes,Haarlem, O thou city of liberty; twenty-two companies of Walloons,eighteen companies of Germans, eight hundred horse, a powerfulartillery, all follow in his train. Hearest thou the clang of thismurderous iron on the wagons? Falconets, culverins, big-mouthedmortars, all that is for thee, Haarlem. Bells, ring not; chimes,fling not your gladsome notes into the air thickened with snow.
"Bells, we the bells, shall ring; I, the chime, I shall sing, flingingmy bold notes into the air thick with snow. Haarlem is the town ofhardy hearts, of brave women. Undaunted she sees, from her topmosttowers, the black masses of the butchers undulating like troops ofants: Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and a hundred sea Beggars are within herwalls. Their fleet is cruising in the lake."
"Let them come!" say the inhabitants; "we are but citizens, fishermen,sailors, and women.
"The son of the Duke of Alba wanteth, he declares, no other keys tocome into our house than his cannon. Let him open, if he can, theseweak gates; he will find men behind them. Ring out, bells; chimes,launch your glad notes into the air thick with snow.
"We have but weak walls and old-fashioned ditches. Fourteen gunsbelch out their balls of forty-six pound on the Cruys-poort. Put menwhere stones are lacking. Night comes, every man toileth, it is asthough the cannon had never been there. On the Cruys-poort they havehurled six hundred and eighty shot; on St. John's Gate six hundredand seventy-five. These keys do not open, for there, behind, risesa new rampart. Ring out, bells; chimes, hurl into the thick air yourmerry notes.
"The cannon beat, beat, beat ever on the walls; the stones fly, thewalls crumble. Wide enough is the breech to let a company pass inabreast. The assault! 'Kill! Kill!' they cry. They mount, they areten thousand; suffer them to pass the moats with their bridges, withtheir ladders. Our cannon are ready. Lo, there the flag of those thatare to die. Salute them, cannon of liberty! They salute: chain shot,balls of flaming tar flying and hissing, pierce, cut, kindle, blindthe assailing masses that fall back and flee in disorder. Fifteenhundred dead lie in the ditch. Ring out, bells; and ye, chimes,fling into the thickened air your merry notes.
"Come back to the assault! They dare not. They fall to shootingand sapping. We, too, we know the arts of the mine. Beneath them,beneath them light the train; run, we shall see a goodly sight. Fourhundred Spaniards blown into the air. This is not the road of eternalfires. Oh! the goodly dance to the silver sound of our bells, to themerry music of our chimes!
"They never suspect that the prince is watching over us; that every daythere come to us by ways well guarded sledges of corn and gunpowder;the corn for us, the powder for them. Where are their six hundredGermans that we slew and drowned in the Haarlem Wood? Where are theeleven ensigns we have taken from them, the six pieces of artillery,and the fifty oxen? We had one girdle of walls; now we have two. Eventhe women fight, and Kennan leads their valiant band. Come, butchers,march down our streets; the children will hamstring you with theirlittle knives. Ring out, bells; and ye, chimes, fling into thethickened air your merry notes!
"But fortune is not with us. The Beggars' fleet is beaten in thelake. They are beaten, the troops Orange had sent to our help. Itfreezes, it freezes bitterly. No more help now. Then for five months,a thousand against ten thousand, we hold out. Now we must needscome to terms with the butchers. Will he listen to any terms, thisbloody dukeling who hath sworn our destruction? Let us send out allour soldiers with their arms: they will pierce the enemy bands. Butthe women are at the gates, fearing lest they be left to guard thetown alone. Bells, ring out no more; chimes, fling no more into theair your merry notes.
"Here is Ju
ne; the hay is fragrant, the corn grows golden in the sun,the birds are singing: we have been hungry for five months; the townis in mourning; we shall all go forth from Haarlem, the musketeers atthe head to open up the way, the women, the children, the magistratesbehind, guarded by the infantry that watches at the breech. A letter,a letter from the dukeling of blood! Is it death he announces? Nay,it is life to all that are in the town. O unlooked-for clemency; Olie, mayhap! Wilt thou still sing, O merry chime? They are enteringthe town."
Ulenspiegel, Lamme, and Nele had donned the costume of the Germansoldiers shut up with them, to the number of six hundred, in thecloister of the Augustines.
"We shall die to-day," said Ulenspiegel in a low tone to Lamme.
And he clasped to his breast the dainty form of Nele all shiveringwith fear.
"Alas! my wife, I shall never see her more," said Lamme. "But perhapsour costume as German soldiers will save our lives?"
Ulenspiegel nodded his head to show he believed in no hope of grace.
"I hear no noise of pillage," said Lamme.
Ulenspiegel replied:
"By the terms, the townsfolk redeemed their lives, and the town frompillage, for the sum of two hundred and forty thousand florins. Theymust pay one hundred thousand florins down in twelve days, and the restthree months after. The women have been ordered to retire into thechurches. They are about to begin the massacre, beyond a doubt. Dostthou hear them nailing up the scaffolds and erecting the gallows?"