And man by man in the towns and the flat country, in 't plat landt,sees that trust cannot be placed either in the lords or in manyanother. "And we citizens and common folk are sore at heart for thatgiving our money and ready to give our blood, we see that nothing goesforward for the good of the country of our sires. And the Belgian landis cowed and angered, having no trusty chiefs to give it the chanceof battle and to give it victory, through great effort of arms allready against the foes of liberty."
And the thoughtful folk said among themselves:
"In the Peace of Ghent, the lords of Holland and of Belgium sworethe abolishment of hate, mutual help between the Belgian Estates andthe Estates of the Netherlands; declared the edicts null and void,the confiscations cancelled, peace between the two religions; promisedto raze each and every column, trophy, inscription, and effigy set upby the Duke of Alba to our dishonour. But in the hearts of the chiefsthe hatreds are still afoot; the nobles and the clergy foment divisionbetween the States of the Union; they receive money to pay soldiers,they keep it for their own gluttony; fifteen thousand law suits forthe recovery of confiscated property are suspended; the Lutherans andRomans unite against the Calvinists; lawful heirs cannot succeed indriving the despoilers from out their inheritance; the duke's statueis on the ground, but the image of the Inquisition is enshrined withintheir hearts."
And the poor commonalty and the woeful burgesses waited ever for thevaliant and trusty chief that would lead them to battle for freedom.
And they said among themselves: "Where are the illustrious signatoriesto the Compromise, all united, so they said, for the good of thecountry? Why did these two-faced men make such a 'holy alliance,'if they were to break it at once? Why meet together with so muchcommotion, rouse the king's wrath, to dissolve like cowards andtraitors after? Five hundred as they were, great lords and low lordsbanded like brothers, they saved us from the fury of Spain; but theysacrificed the welfare of the land of Belgium to their own profit,even as did d'Egmont and de Hoorn.
"Alas!" said they, "see Don Juan come now, handsome and ambitious,the enemy of Philip, but more the enemy of his country. He is comingfor the Pope and for himself. Nobles and clergy are traitors."
And they began a semblance of war. Upon the walls along the mainstreets and the little streets of Ghent and Brussels, nay even upon themasts of the Beggars' ships, were then to be seen posted up the namesof traitors, army chiefs, and commanders of fortresses: the namesof the Count of Liederkerke, who did not defend his castle againstDon Juan; of the provost of Liege, who would have sold the city toDon Juan; of Messieurs d'Aerschot, de Mansfeldt, de Berlaymont, deRassenghien; the name, of the Council of State, of Georges de Lalaing,governor of Frisia, that of the army leader the seigneur de Rossignol,an emissary of Don Juan, the go-between for murder between Philip andJaureguy, the clumsy assassin of the Prince of Orange; the name of theArchbishop of Cambrai, who would have given the Spaniards entry intothe town; the names of the Jesuits of Antwerp, offering three casksof gold to the States--that was two million florins--not to demolishthe castle and to hold it for Don Juan; of the Bishop of Liege; ofRoman preachers defaming and abusing the patriots; of the Bishop ofUtrecht, whom the citizens sent elsewhere to pasture on the grass oftreachery; the orders of begging friars, which intrigued and plottedat Ghent in favour of Don Juan. The folk of Bois-le-Duc nailed on thepillory the name of Peter the Carmelite, who helped by their bishopand his clergy, undertook to hand over the town to Don Juan.
At Douai they did not indeed hang the rector of the university ineffigy, a man no less Spaniardized; but upon the ships of the Beggarswere seen on the breast of mannikins hanging by their necks thenames of monks, abbots, and prelates, of eighteen hundred rich womenand girls of the nunnery of Malines who with their money sustained,gilded, and beplumed the country's butchers.
And on these mannikins, the pillories of traitors, were to be readthe names of the Marquis d'Harrault, the commander of the fortressof Philippeville, wasting and squandering munitions of war and fooduselessly in order to give up the place to the enemy under pretence ofa lack of provisions; the name of Belver, who surrendered Lembourg,when the town might have held out another eight months; that of thePresident of the Council of Flanders; of the magistrate of Bruges,of the magistrate of Malines, holding their towns for Don Juan,of the members of the Exchequer Council of Guelderland, closed byreason of treachery; of those of the Council of Brabant, of theChancellery of the Duchy; of the Privy Council and the Council ofFinance; of the Grand Bailiff and the Burgomaster of Menin; and ofthe ill neighbours of Artois, who gave passage without let to twothousand Frenchmen bent upon pillage.
"Alas!" said the city folk among themselves, "here is the Duke of Anjouwith a footing in our country: he would fain be king among us; did yebehold him entering into Mons, a little man, with fat hips, big nose,a yellow phiz, a fleering mouth? 'Tis a great prince, loving lovesout of the common; he is called, that he may have in his name woman'sgrace and man's force, Monseigneur monsieur Sa Grande Altesse d'Anjou."
Ulenspiegel was pensive. And he sang:
"Blue are the skies, the clear bright skies; Cover the banners all in crepe, With crepe the handle of the sword; Hide every gem; Turn the mirrors over; I sing the song of Death, The traitors' song.
"They have set foot upon the belly And on the bosom of the proud lands Of Brabant, Flanders, Hainault, Antwerp, Artois, Luxembourg. Nobles and clergy are traitors; The bait of reward allures them. I sing the traitors' song.
"When the foe sacks everywhere, When the Spaniard enters Antwerp, Abbes, prelates, and army chiefs Go through the streets of the town, Clad in silk, bedecked with gold, Their faces shining with good wine, Displaying thus their infamy.
"And through them, the Inquisition Will wake again in high triumph, And new Titelmans Will arrest the deaf and dumb For heresy. I sing the traitors' song.
"Signatories to the Compromise. Coward signatories, Be your names all accursed! Where are ye in the hour of war? Ye march like corbies In the Spaniards' train. Beat upon the drum of woe.
"Land of Belgium, future years Will condemn thee for that thou, All in arms, didst let thyself be pillaged. Future, hasten not; See the traitors labouring: There are twenty, a thousand, Filling every post, The great give them to the little.
"They have plotted and agreed That they might fetter all defence, With discord and sloth, Their treacherous devices. Cover the mirrors with crepe And the hilts of the swords. 'Tis the traitors' song.
"They declare rebels All Spaniards and malcontents; Forbid to help them With bread or shelter, With lead or powder. If any are taken to be hanged, To be hanged, They release them at once.
"'Up!' say the men of Brussels, 'Up!' say the men of Ghent And the Belgian commons, Poor men, they mean to crush you Between the king And the Pope who launches The crusade against Flanders.
"They come, the hirelings, At the smell of blood; Bands of dogs, Of serpents and hyaenas. They hunger, they are athirst. Poor land of our sires, Ripe for ruin and death.
"'Tis not Don Juan That makes ready the task For Farnese, the Pope's minion. But those thou didst load With gold and distinctions, Who confessed thy women Thy girls and thy children!
"They have flung thee to ground And the Spaniard holds The knife at thy throat; They jeer at thee, Feasting at Brussels The coming of Orange.
"When on the canal were seen So many fireworks Exploding their joy, So many triumphing boats, Paintings, tapestries, They were playing, O Belgium, The old tale of Joseph Sold by his brothers."
III
Seeing that he was allowed to say what he pleased, the monk liftedup his nose on board the ship; and the sailors and soldiers, to makehim the more ready a
nd eager to preach, slandered Madame the Virgin,Messieurs the Saints, and the pious practices of the Holy Roman Church.
Then, becoming enraged, he vomited out a flood of abuse against them.
"Aye!" he cried, "aye, here am I then in the den of the Beggars! Yea,these are indeed those accursed devourers of the land! Yea. Andthey say that the Inquisitor, that holy man, has burned too many ofthem! Nay: there is still some of the filthy vermin left. Aye, onthese goodly and gallant ships of our Lord the King, once so cleanand well scoured, now can be seen the vermin of the Beggars, aye,the stinking vermin. Aye, they are vermin, foul, stinking, infamousvermin, the singing captain, the cook with his belly filled withimpiety, and all of them with their blasphemous crescents. When theking will have his ships scoured with the suds of artillery, it willneed more than a hundred thousand florins' worth of powder and cannonshot to clear away this filthy, beastly stinking infection. Aye,ye were all born in Madame Lucifer's alcove, condemned to dwellwith Satanas between walls of vermin, under curtains of vermin, onmattresses of vermin. Yea, and there it was that in their infamousloves they begat and conceived the Beggars. Aye, and I spit upon you."
At this word the Beggars said to him:
"Why do we keep here this idle rascal, who is good for nothing butto spew up insults? Let us hang him rather."
And they set about doing it.
The monk, seeing the rope ready, the ladder propped against the mast,and that they were about to bind his hands, said woefully:
"Have pity upon me, Messieurs the Beggars, it is the demon of angerthat speaks in my heart and not your humble captive, a poor monk thathath but one only neck in this world: gracious lords, have mercy:shut my mouth if ye will with a choke-pear; 'tis a bitter fruit,but hang me not."
But they, without giving heed, and despite his furious struggles,were dragging him towards the ladder. He cried then so shrill andloud that Lamme said to Ulenspiegel, who was with him and tendinghim in the cook's galley:
"My son! my son! they have stolen a pig from the stable, and theyare making off. Oh, the robbers! if I could but rise!"
Ulenspiegel went up and saw nothing but the monk. And he, catchingsight of Ulenspiegel, fell upon his knees, with his hands outstretchedto him.
"Messire Captain," said he, "captain of the valiant Beggars,redoubtable on land and on sea, your soldiers are fain to hang mebecause I have transgressed with my tongue: 'tis an unjust punishment,Messire Captain, for so must all advocates, procurators, preachers,and women, be given a hempen collar, and the world would be unpeopled;Messire, save me from the rope. I shall pray for you; you will neverbe damned: grant me pardon. The devil of prating carried me away andmade me speak without ceasing: 'tis a mighty misfortune. My poor bilesoured then and made me say a thousand things I never think. Grace,Messire Captain, and you, Messieurs, intercede for me."
Suddenly Lamme appeared on the deck in his shirt and said:
"Captain and friends, 'twas not the pig but the monk that wassquealing; I am overjoyed. Ulenspiegel, my son, I have conceived ahigh design with regard to His Paternity; give him his life, but leavehim not at liberty, else will he do some ill trick upon the ship:rather have a cage built for him on the deck, a strait cage wellopened and airy, where he can do no more than sit down and sleep;such a one as they make for capons; let me feed him, and let him behanged if he does not eat as much as I will."
"Let him be hanged if he will not eat," said Ulenspiegel and theBeggars.
"What dost thou mean to do with me, big man?" said the monk.
"Thou shalt see," replied Lamme.
And Ulenspiegel did as Lamme wished, and the monk was put in a cage,and all could contemplate him at their leisure.
Lamme had gone down into his galley; Ulenspiegel followed and heardhim disputing with Nele:
"I will not lie down," he was saying, "no, I will not lie down tohave others groping and fumbling with my sauces; no, I will not stayin my bed, like a calf!"
"Do not be angry, Lamme," said Nele, "or your wound will reopen andyou will die."
"Well," said he, "I will die: I am tired of living without my wife. Isit not enough for me to have lost her, without your trying furthermoreto prevent me, me the master cook of this place, from myself keepingwatch over the soup? Know ye not that there is a health inherent inthe steam of sauces and fricassees? They even nourish my spirit andarmour me against misfortunes."
"Lamme," said Nele, "thou must needs hearken to our counsel and letthyself be healed by us."
"I am fain to let myself be healed," said Lamme: "but rather thananother should enter here, some ignorant good-for-naught, a frowsy,ulcerous, blear-eyed, dropping nosed fellow, and come to king it asmaster cook in my place, and paddle with his filthy fingers in mysauces, I would rather kill him with my wooden ladle, which would beiron for that task."
"All the same," said Ulenspiegel, "thou must have an assistant;thou art sick...."
"An assistant for me," said Lamme, "for me, an assistant! Art thou thenstuffed with naught but ingratitude, as a sausage is full of mincedmeat? An assistant, my son, and 'tis thou that dost say so to me, thyfriend, who have nourished thee so long time and so succulently! Nowwill my wound reopen. False friend, who then would dress thy foodlike me? What would ye do, ye two, if I were not there to give thee,chief-captain, and thee, Nele, some dainty stew or other?"
"We will work ourselves in the galley," said Ulenspiegel.
"Cooking," said Lamme: "thou art good to eat of it, to smell it, tosniff it up, but to perform it, no: poor friend and chief-captain,saving your respect, I could make thee eat leather wallets cut upinto ribbons, and thou wouldst take it for toughish tripe: leave me,my son, to be still the master cook of here, else I shall dry up,like a lathstick."
"Remain master cook then," said Ulenspiegel; "if thou dost not heal,I will shut up the galley and we shall eat naught save biscuits."
"Ah! my son," said Lamme, weeping for joy, "thou art good and kindas Notre Dame herself."
IV
And in any case he appeared to be healing.
Every Saturday the Beggars saw him measuring the monk's waist girthwith a long leather thong.
The first Saturday he said:
"Four feet."
And measuring himself, he said:
"Four feet and a half."
And he seemed melancholy.
But, speaking of the monk, on the eighth Saturday he was full of joyand said:
"Four feet and three quarters."
And the monk, angry, when he took his measure, would say to him:
"What do you want with me, big man?"
But Lamme would put out his tongue at him without a word.
And seven times a day, the sailors and soldiers saw him come with anew dish, saying to the monk:
"Here be rich beans in Flemish butter: didst thou eat the like inthy monastery? Thou hast a goodly phiz; there is no starving on thisship. Dost thou not feel cushions of fat coming on thy back? Beforelong thou wilt have no need of a mattress to lie on."
At the monk's second meal:
"Here," he would say, "there are koeke-bakken after the Brusselsfashion; the French folk call them crepes, for they wear crapes ontheir kerchiefs for a sign of mourning: these are not black, butfair of hue and golden browned in the oven: seest thou the butterstreaming off them? So shall it be with thy belly."
"I have no hunger," the monk would say.
"Thou must needs eat," was Lamme's answer. "Dost thou deem thatthese are pancakes of buckwheat? 'tis pure wheat, my father, fatherin grease, fine flour of the wheat, my father with the four chins:already I see the fifth one coming, and my heart rejoices. Eat."
"Leave me in peace, big man," said the monk.
Lamme, becoming wrathful, would reply:
"I am the lord and disposer of thy life: dost thou prefer the ropeto a good bowl of pea soup with sippets, such as I am about to fetchthee presently?"
And coming with the bowl:
"Pea soup," quoth Lamme, "loves to be eaten in
company: and thereforeI have just added thereto knoedels of Germany, goodly dumplings ofCorinth flour, cast all alive into boiling water: they are heavy,but make plenteous fat. Eat all thou canst; the more thou dost eatthe greater my joy: do not feign disgust; breathe not so hard asif thou hadst over much: eat. Is it not better to eat than to behanged? Let's see thy thigh! it thickens also; two feet seven inchesround about. Where is the ham that measureth as much?"
An hour after he came back to the monk:
"Come," said he, "here are nine pigeons: they have been slaughtered forthee, these innocent beasts that wont to fly unfearing above the ships:disdain them not; I have put into their bellies a ball of butter,breadcrumbs, grated nutmeg, cloves pounded in a brass mortar shininglike thy skin: Master Sun rejoices to be able to admire himself ina face as bright as thine, by reason of the grease, the good greaseI have made for thee."
At the fifth meal he would fetch him a waterzoey.
"What thinkest thou," quoth he, "of this hodgepodge of fish? The seacarries thee and feedeth thee: she could do no more for the King'sMajesty. Aye, aye, I can see the fifth chin visibly a-coming a littlemore on the left side than on the right side: we must fatten up thisside that is neglected, for God saith to us: 'Be just to each.' Wherewould justice be, if not in an equitable distributing of grease? I willbring thee for thy sixth repast mussels, those oysters of the poor,such as they never served thee in thy convent: ignorant folk boilthem and eat them so; but that is but the prologue to the fricassee;they must next be stripped of their shells, and their gentle bodiesput in a pan, then stewed delicately with celery, nutmeg, and cloves,and bind the sauce with beer and flour, and serve them with butteredtoast. I have done them in this fashion for thee. Why do childrenowe so great a gratitude to their fathers and mothers? Because theyhave given them shelter and love, but beyond all things, food: thououghtest then to love me as thy father and thy mother, and even asto them thou owest me the gratitude of thy stomach: roll not againstme then such savage eyes.