The Legend of the Glorious Adventures of Tyl Ulenspiegel in the land of Flanders Part 55

"Now I will read to you the second letter, which is the letter Nele found sewn into the pocket of Katheline's Sunday gown. These are the terms of it:

"Sweet witch, here is the recipe of a mixture which was sent to me by the wife of Lucifer himself. By the aid of this mixture it is possible to be transported to the sun, the moon, and the stars, and you can hold converse with the elemental spirits who carry the prayers of men to G.o.d, and can traverse the cities, towns, rivers, and fields of all the world. Mix equal parts of the following: stramonium, solanum, somniferum, henbane, opium, fresh ends of hemp, belladonna, and thorn-apple. Then drink. If it is your wish we will go this very night to the Sabbath of the Spirits. But you must love me more, and not be cold to me like you were the other night, refusing to give me even ten florins, and denying that you had got them! For I know very well you have a treasure in your hiding but will not tell me where. Do you not love me any more, my sweetheart?--Your cold devil,

"Hanske."

"To death with the sorcerer!" cried the crowd.

The bailiff said:

"Let the two handwritings be compared."

When this had been done, and when it had been found that they were in all respects similar, the bailiff said:

"After these proofs, Messire Joos Damman is found to be a sorcerer, a murderer, a seducer of women, a robber of the property of the King, and as such he must be accounted guilty of high treason against G.o.d and man."

And the bailiff and the aldermen gave judgment on Joos Damman, and he was condemned to be degraded from the rank of a n.o.bleman, and to be burned alive in the slower fire till death supervened. And he underwent this punishment on the following day in front of the Town Hall. And all the time he kept on crying: "Let the witch perish, it is she and she alone who is guilty! Cursed be G.o.d! My father will avenge me!"

And the people said: "Behold how he curses and blasphemes. He is dying the death of a dog."

On the next day, the bailiff and the aldermen gave sentence upon Katheline. She was condemned to undergo the trial by water in the Bruges Ca.n.a.l. If she floated she would be burned for a witch. If she sank and was drowned she would be considered to have died the death of a Christian and would be buried in the churchyard.

So on the morrow Katheline was conducted to the ca.n.a.l-bank, holding a candle in her hand and walking barefoot in a shift of black linen. Along by the trees went the long procession. In front was the Dean of Notre Dame, chanting the prayers for the dead, and with him were his vicars, and the beadle carrying the cross. Behind came the bailiff of Damme, the aldermen, the clerks, the sergeants of the commune, the provost, the executioner and his two a.s.sistants. On the edge of the procession there followed a great crowd of women crying, and men mourning, in pity for Katheline, who herself walked like a lamb that allows itself to be led whither it knows not. And all the time she kept on crying:

"Put out the fire! My head is burning! Hans, where are you?"

In the midst of the women was Nele, who kept crying also:

"Let them throw me in with her!"

But the women did not suffer her to come near to Katheline.

A sharp wind came blowing in from the sea, and from the grey sky a fine hail fell dripping into the water of the ca.n.a.l. Now there was a boat moored by the side of the water, and this boat the executioner and his a.s.sistants commandeered in the name of His Royal Majesty. Then Katheline was ordered to step down into the boat. She obeyed at once, and the executioner was seen standing by her side and holding her securely. Then the provost raised the rod of justice, and the executioner threw Katheline into the ca.n.a.l. For a while she struggled, but soon sank, with one last cry: "Hans! Hans! Help!"

And the people said: "This woman was no witch."

Thereafter certain men who were there jumped into the ca.n.a.l and dragged Katheline out again, senseless and rigid as one dead. And she was taken into a tavern near by, and placed in front of a bright fire. Nele took off her garments wringing wet as they were, meaning to put dry ones on her. After a while she regained consciousness, and cried out, all trembling and with her teeth chattering: "Hans! Give me a cloak of wool!"

But Katheline could not be warmed. And on the third day she died. And she was buried in the garden of the church.

And Nele, the orphan, went away into Holland, and dwelt at the house of Rosa van Auweghem.

x.x.xII

In those days it was that the Beggarmen, among whom were Lamme and Ulenspiegel, took the city of Gorc.u.m by storm. And they were led in this enterprise by one Captain Marin. This Marin had once been a workman on the dikes, but now he bore himself with great haughtiness and effrontery, and he signed an agreement with Gaspard Turc, the defender of Gorc.u.m, by which it was agreed that the city should capitulate on condition that Turc himself, together with the monks, citizens, and soldiers who had been shut up in the citadel, should be allowed to pa.s.s out freely, their muskets on their shoulders and with anything that they could carry with them--save only what belonged to the churches, which was to remain in the hands of the victors. But in spite of this agreement, Captain Marin, acting under an order from Messire de Lumey, detained nineteen monks as his prisoners, while the rest of the citizens were allowed to go free as had been promised.

And Ulenspiegel said:

"Word of a soldier, word of gold. Why has the captain been false to his promise?"

An old Beggarman answered Ulenspiegel:

"The monks are the sons of Satan, the canker of our nation, the shame of our country. Dogs are chained up--let the monks be also chained, for they are the bloodhounds of the Duke. Long live the Beggarmen!"

"But," answered Ulenspiegel, "we must remember that my Lord of Orange, the Prince of Liberty, has ordered us to respect the property and the free conscience of all such as give themselves up into our power."

Some of the older Beggarmen replied that the admiral could not do so in the case of the monks. "And he is master here," they added. "It was he that took La Briele. To prison with the monks!"

"A soldier's word is a word of gold," said Ulenspiegel. "Parole de soldat, parole d'or. Why should we ever break our word?"

"No longer do the ashes beat upon your heart," they told him. "Hear you not the souls of the dead that cry for vengeance?"

"The ashes beat upon my heart," said Ulenspiegel. "Parole de soldat, c'est parole d'or."

The next day a message arrived from Messire de Lumey to the effect that the nineteen monks were to be brought as prisoners from Gorc.u.m to La Briele where the admiral was then stationed.

"They will be hanged," said Captain Marin to Ulenspiegel.

"Not as long as I am alive," said Ulenspiegel.

"My son," said Lamme, "you must not speak in this way to Messire de Lumey. He is a stern man, and will have you hanged as well as the monks if you are not careful."

"I shall tell him the truth," answered Ulenspiegel. "Parole de soldat, c'est parole d'or."

"If you think that you can save them," said Marin, "I will give you permission to go with them by ship to La Briele. Take Rochus with you as pilot, and your friend Lamme if you please as well."

"I will," said Ulenspiegel.

The ship was moored by the quay side, and the nineteen monks were taken aboard. Rochus took charge of the helm, while Ulenspiegel and Lamme placed themselves at the bow. Certain vagabond soldiers who had joined the Beggarmen for the sake of plunder were stationed by the monks, who now began to wax hungry. Ulenspiegel gave them food and drink. Then the sailors began to murmur one to another, saying: "This man is a traitor." Meanwhile the nineteen monks were seated sanctimoniously in the midst, and they were shivering although the month was July and the sun was shining hot and clear, and a gentle breeze filled the sails of the ship as it glided, heavy and full-bellied, over the green waves.

Father Nicholas then began to speak, addressing himself to the pilot:

"O Rochus," he said, "are they taking us to the gallows-field?" Then, turning his face towards Gorc.u.m: "O city of Gorc.u.m," he cried, stretching out his hands, "O city of Gorc.u.m, how many evils hast thou still to suffer! Verily thou shalt be cursed among all the cities of the earth, for thou hast nurtured within thy walls the seed of heresy! O city of Gorc.u.m! For now no longer shall the angel of the Lord stand watch above thy gates, no longer shall he have any care for the modesty of thy virgins, or the courage of thy men, or for the fortunes of thy merchants! O city of Gorc.u.m, accursed thou art and doomed to misfortune!"

"Cursed and accursed indeed!" answered Ulenspiegel. "As accursed as is the comb that has combed away the lice of Spain, or accursed as the dog that has broken the chain that held him captive, or as the proud charger that has thrown from his back the cruel cavalier! Be cursed yourself, silly preacher that you are, who think it an evil thing to break the rod upon the back of a tyrant, even if it be a rod of iron!"

The monk was silenced, and dropping his eyes he seemed lost in a dream of hate and bigotry.

The next morning they arrived at La Briele, and a messenger was sent to advise Messire de Lumey of their coming.

As soon as he had received the news he set out to go to them on horseback, half dressed as he was, and with him went a company of armed men, some on foot and some on horseback. And now once again was it given to Ulenspiegel to behold this fierce admiral dressed as he was like some n.o.ble, proud and opulent.