The Burgomaster's Wife — Complete

by Georg Ebers

  CHAPTER XXI.

  A story is told of a condemned man, whom his cruel executioner cast intoa prison of ingenious structure. Each day the walls of this cage grewnarrower and narrower, each day they pressed nearer and nearer to theunfortunate prisoner, until in despair he died and the dungeon becamehis coffin. Even so, league by league, the iron barriers of the Spanishregiments drew nearer and nearer Leyden, and, if they succeeded indestroying the resistance of their victim, the latter was threatenedwith a still more cruel and pitiless end than that of the unhappyprisoner. The girdle Valdez, King Philip's commander, and his skilfullieutenant, Don Ayala, had drawn around the city in less than two days,was already nearly closed, the fort of Valkenburg, strengthened withthe utmost care, belonged to the enemy, and the danger had advancedmore rapidly and with far more irresistible strength, than even the mosttimid citizens had feared. If Leyden fell, its houses would be deliveredto fire and pillage, its men to death, its women to disgrace--this wasguaranteed by the fate of other conquered cities and the Spanish nature.

  Who could imagine the guardian angel of the busy city, except under asullen sky, with clouded brow and anxious eyes, and yet it looked as gayand bright at the White Gate as if a spring festival was drawing toa close with a brilliant exhibition. Wherever the walls, as far asCatherine's Tower, afforded a foothold, they were crowded with men,women, and children. The old masonry looked like the spectators' seatsin an arena, and the buzzing of the many-headed, curious crowd was heardfor a long distance in the city.

  It is a kind dispensation of Providence, that enables men to enjoy abrief glimpse of sunshine amid terrible storms, and thus the journeymenand apprentices, women and children, forgot the impending danger andfeasted their eyes on the beautifully-dressed English soldiers, who werelooking up at them, nodding and laughing saucily to the young girls,though part of them, it is true, were awaiting with thoughtful faces theresults of the negotiations going on within the walls.

  The doors of the White Gate now opened; Commissioner Van Bronkhorst, Vander Werff, Van Hout and other leaders of the community accompanied theBritish colonel and his trumpeter to the bridge. The former seemed to befilled with passionate indignation and several times struck his hand onthe hilt of his sword, the Leyden magistrates were talking to him, andat last took leave with low bows, which he answered only with a haughtywave of the hand. The citizens returned, the portals of the gate closed,the old lock creaked, the iron-shod beams fell back into their places,the chains of the drawbridge rattled audibly, and the assembled throngnow knew that the Englishmen had been refused admittance to the city.

  Loud cheers, mingled with many an expression of displeasure, were heard."Long live Orange!" shouted the boys, among whom were Adrian and theson of the dead fencing-master Allertssohn; the women waved theirhandkerchiefs, and all eyes were fixed on the Britons. A loud flourishof trumpets was heard, the English mounted officers dashed towards thecolonel and held a short council of war with him, interrupted by hastywords from several individuals, and soon after a signal was sounded. Thesoldiers hurriedly, formed in marching array, many of them shaking theirfists at the city. Halberds and muskets, which had been stacked, wereseized by their owners and, amid the beating of drums and blare oftrumpets, order arose out of the confusion. Individuals fell into ranks,ranks into companies, gay flags were unfurled and flung to the eveningbreeze, and with loud hurrahs the troops marched along the Rhine towardsthe south-west, where the Spanish outposts were stationed.

  The Leyden boys joined loudly in the Englishmen's cheer.

  Even Andreas, the fencing-master's son, had begun to shout with them;but when he saw a tall captain marching proudly before his company, hisvoice failed and, covering his eyes with his hands, he ran home to hismother.

  The other lads did not notice him, for the setting sun flashed sobrightly on the coats of mail and helmets of the soldiers, the trumpetssounded so merrily, the officers' steeds caracoled so proudly undertheir riders, the gay plumes and banners and the smoke of the glimmeringmatches gained such beautiful hues in the roseate light of sunset, thateyes and ears seemed spellbound by the spectacle. But a fresh incidentnow attracted the attention of great and small.

  Thirty-six Englishmen, among them several officers, lingered behind theothers and approached the gate. Again the lock creaked and the chainsrattled. The little band was admitted to the city and welcomed atthe first houses of the northern end by Herr Van Bronkhorst and theburgomaster.

  Every one on the walls had expected, that a skirmish between theretreating Englishmen and Castilians would now take place before theireyes. But they were greatly mistaken. Before the first ranks reachedthe enemy, the matches for lighting the cannon flew through the air, thebanners were lowered, and when darkness came and the curious spectatorsdispersed, they knew that the Englishmen had deserted the good cause andgone over to the Spaniards.

  The thirty-six men, who had been admitted through the gates, were theonly ones who refused to be accessory to this treason.

  The task of providing quarters for Captain Cromwell and the otherEnglishmen and Netherlanders, who had remained faithful, was assignedto Van Hout. Burgomaster Van der Werff went home with CommissionerVan Bronkhorst. Many a low-voiced but violent word had been exchangedbetween them. The commissioner protested that the Prince would be highlyincensed at the refusal to admit the Englishmen, for with good reason heset great value on Queen Elizabeth's favorable disposition to the causeof freedom, to which the burgomaster and his friends had rendered badservice that day. Van der Werff denied this, for everything dependedupon holding Leyden. After the fall of this city, Delft, Rotterdam andGouda would also be lost, and all farther efforts to battle for theliberty of Holland useless. Five hundred consumers would prematurelyexhaust the already insufficient stock of provisions. Everything hadbeen done to soften their refusal to admit the Englishmen, nay they hadhad free choice to encamp beneath the protection of the walls under thecannon of the city.

  When the two men parted, neither had convinced the other, but each feltsure of his comrade's loyalty. As Peter took leave, he said:

  "Van Hout shall explain the reasons for our conduct to the Prince, ina letter as clear and convincing as only he can make it, and hisexcellency will finally approve of it. Rely upon that."

  "We will wait," replied the commissioner, "but don't forget that weshall soon be shut within these walls behind bolts and bars, likeprisoners, and perhaps day after to-morrow no messenger will be able toget to him."

  "Van Hout is swift with his pen."

  "And let a proclamation be read aloud, early tomorrow morning, advisingthe women, old men and children, in short, all who will diminish thestock of provisions and add no strength to the defence, to leave thecity. They can reach Delft without danger, for the roads leading to itare still open."

  "Very well," replied Peter. "It's said that many girls and women havegone to-day in advance of the others."

  "That's right," cried the commissioner. "We are driving in a fragilevessel on the high seas. If I had a daughter in the house, I know whatI should do. Farewell till we meet again, Meister. How are matters atAlfen? The firing is no longer heard."

  "Darkness has probably interrupted the battle."

  "We'll hope for the best news to-morrow, and even if all the men outsidesuccumb, we within the walls will not flinch or yield."

  "We will hold out firmly to the end," replied Peter resolutely.

  "To the end, and, if God so wills it, a successful end."

  "Amen," cried Peter, pressed the commissioner's hand and pursued his wayhome.

  Barbara met him on the steps and wanted to call Maria, who was withHenrica; but he forbade it and paced thoughtfully to and fro, his lipsoften quivering as if he were suffering great pain. When, after sometime, he heard his wife's voice in the dining-room, he controlledhimself by a violent effort, went to the door, and slowly opened it.

  "You are at home already, and I sitting quietly here spinning!" sheexclaimed in surprise.

  "Yes,
child. Please come in here, I have something to say to you."

  "For Heaven's sake! Peter, tell me what has happened. How your voicesounds, and how pale you look!"

  "I'm not ill, but matters are serious, terribly serious, Maria."

  "Then it is true that the enemy--"

  "They gained great advantage to-day and yesterday, but I beg you, if youlove me, don't interrupt me now; what I have to say is no easy thing, itis hard to force the lips to utter it. Where shall I begin? How shallI speak, that you may not misunderstand me? You know, child, I took youinto my house from a warm nest. What we could offer was very little,and you had doubtless expected to find more. I know you have not beenhappy."

  "But it would be so easy for you to make me so."

  "You are mistaken, Maria. In these troublous times but one thing claimsmy thoughts, and whatever diverts them from it is evil. But just nowone thing paralyzes my courage and will-anxiety about your fate; for whoknows what is impending over us, and therefore it must be said, I musttake my heart to the shambles and express a wish.--A wish? Oh, mercifulHeaven, is there no other word for what I mean!"

  "Speak, Peter, speak, and do not torture me!" cried Maria, gazinganxiously into her husband's face. It could be no small matter, thatinduced the clear-headed, resolute man to utter such confused language.

  The burgomaster summoned up his courage and began again:

  "You are right, it is useless to keep back what must be said. We havedetermined at the town-hall to-day, to request the women and girls toleave the city. The road to Delft is still open; day after to-morrowit may no longer be so, afterwards--who can predict what will happenafterwards? If no relief comes and the provisions are consumed, we shallbe forced to open the gates to the enemy, and then, Maria, imagine whatwill happen! The Rhine and the canals will grow crimson, for much bloodwill flow into them and they will mirror an unequalled conflagration.Woe betide the men, tenfold woe betide the women, against whom theconqueror's fury will then be directed. And you, you--the wife of theman who has induced thousands to desert King Philip, the wife of theexile, who directs the resistance within these walls."

  At the last words Maria had opened her large eyes wider and wider, andnow interrupted her husband with the question: "Do you wish to try howhigh my courage will rise?"

  "No, Maria. I know you will hold out loyally and would look death in theface as fearlessly as your sister did in Haarlem; but I, I cannot endurethe thought of seeing you fall into the hands of our butchers. Fear foryou, terrible fear, will destroy my vigorous strength in the decisivehours, so the words must be uttered--"

  Maria had hitherto listened to her husband quietly; she knew what hedesired. Now she advanced nearer and interrupted him by exclaimingfirmly, nay imperiously:

  "No more, no more, do you hear! I will not endure another word!"

  "Maria!"

  "Silence it is my turn now. To escape fear, you will thrust your wifefrom the house; fear, you say, would undermine your strength. But willlonging strengthen it? If you love me, it will not fail to come--"

  "If I love you, Maria!"

  "Well, well! But you have forgotten to consider how I shall feel inexile, if I also love you. I am your wife. We vowed at the altar, thatnothing save death should part us. Have you forgotten it? Have yourchildren become mine? Have I taught them, rejoiced to call myself theirmother? Yes, or no?"

  "Yes, Maria, yes, yes, a hundred times yes!"

  "And you have the heart to throw me into the arms of this wastinglonging! You wish to prevent me from keeping the most sacred of vows?You can bring yourself to tear me from the children? You think me tooshallow and feeble, to endure suffering and death for the sacred cause,which is mine as well as yours! You are fond of calling me your child,but I can be strong, and whatever may come, will not weep. You are thehusband and have the right to command, I am only the wife and shallobey. Shall I go? Shall I stay? I await your answer."

  She had uttered the last words in a trembling voice, but the burgomasterexclaimed with deep emotion:

  "Stay, stay, Maria! Come, come, and forgive me!" Peter seized her hand,exclaiming again:

  "Come, come!"

  But the young wife released herself, retreated a step and saidbeseechingly:

  "Let me go, Peter, I cannot; I need time to overcome this."

  He let his arms fall and gazed mournfully into her face, but she turnedaway and silently left the room. Peter Van der Werff did not follow her,but went quietly into his study and strove to reflect upon many things,that concerned his office, but his thoughts constantly reverted toMaria. His love oppressed him as if it were a crime, and he seemed tohimself like a courier, who gathers flowers by the way-side and in thisidling squanders time and forgets the object of his mission. His heartfelt unspeakably heavy and sad, and it seemed almost like a deliverancewhen, just before midnight, the bell in the Tower of Pancratius raisedits evilboding voice. In danger, he knew, he would feel and think ofnothing except what duty required of him, so with renewed strength hetook his hat from the hook and left the house with a steady step.

  In the street he met Junker Van Duivenvoorde, who summoned him to theHohenort Gate, before which a body of Englishmen had again appeared; afew brave soldiers who, in a fierce, bloody combat, had held Alfen andthe Gouda sluice against the Spaniards until their powder was exhaustedand necessity compelled them to yield or seek safety in flight. Theburgomaster followed the officer and ordered the gates to be openedto the brave soldiers. They were twenty in number, among them theNetherland Captain Van der Iaen, and a Young German officer. Petercommanded, that they should have shelter for the night in the town-halland the guard-house at the gate. The next morning suitable quarterswould be found for them in the houses of the citizens. Janus Dousainvited the captain to lodge with him, the German went to Aquanus'stavern. All were ordered to report to the burgomaster at noon the nextday, to be assigned to quarters and enrolled among the volunteer troops.

  The ringing of the alarm-bell in the tower also disturbed the night'srest of the ladies in the Van der Werff household. Barbara sought Maria,and neither returned to their rooms until they had learned the cause ofthe ringing and soothed Henrica.

  Maria could not sleep. Her husband's purpose of separating from herduring the impending danger, had stirred her whole soul, wounded herto the inmost depths of her heart. She felt humiliated, and, if notmisunderstood, at least unappreciated by the man for whose sake sherejoiced, whenever she perceived a lofty aspiration or noble emotion inher own soul. What avail is personal loveliness to the beautiful wife ofa blind man; of what avail to Maria was the rich treasure buried in herbosom, if her husband would not see and bring it to the surface! "Showhim, tell him how lofty are your feelings," urged love; but womanlypride exclaimed: "Do not force upon him what he disdains to seek."

  So the hours passed, bringing her neither sleep, peace, nor the desireto forget the humiliation inflicted upon her.

  At last Peter entered the room, stepping lightly and cautiously, inorder not to wake her. She pretended to be asleep, but with half-closedeyes could see him distinctly. The lamp-light fell upon his face, andthe lines she had formerly perceived looked like deep shadows betweenhis eyes and mouth. They impressed upon his features the stamp of heavy,sorrowful anxiety, and reminded Maria of the "too hard" and "if I canonly bear it," he had murmured in his sleep the night before. Then heapproached her bed and stood there a long time; she no longer saw him,for she kept her eyes tightly closed, but the first loving glance, withwhich he gazed down upon her, had not escaped her notice. It continuedto beam before her mental vision, and she thought she felt that he waswatching and praying for her as if she were a child.

  Sleep had long since overpowered her husband, while Maria lay gazing atthe glimmering dawn, as wakeful as if it were broad day. For the sakeof his love she would forgive much, but she could not forget thehumiliation she had experienced. "A toy," she said to herself, "a workof art which we enjoy, is placed in security when danger threatens thehouse; the axe and
the bread, the sword and the talisman that protectsus, in short whatever we cannot dispense with while we live, we donot release from our hands till death comes. She was not necessary,indispensable to him. If she had obeyed his wish and left him,then--yes, then--"

  Here the current of her thoughts was checked, for the first time sheasked herself the question: "Would he have really missed your helpinghand, your cheering word?"

  She turned restlessly, and her heart throbbed anxiously, as she toldherself that she had done little to smooth his rugged pathway. The vaguefeeling, that he had not been entirely to blame, if she had not foundperfect happiness by his side, alarmed her. Did not her former conductjustify him in expecting hindrance rather than support and help inimpending days of severest peril?

  Filled with deep longing to obtain a clear view of her own heart, sheraised herself on her pillows and reviewed her whole former life.

  Her mother had been a Catholic in her youth, and had often told her howfree and light-hearted she had felt, when she confided everything thatcan trouble a woman's heart to a silent third person, and received fromthe lips of God's servant the assurance that she might now begin a newlife, secure of forgiveness. "It is harder for us now," her mothersaid before her first communion, "for we of the Reformed religion arereferred to ourselves and our God, and must be wholly at peace withourselves before we approach the Lord's table. True, that is enough, forif we frankly and honestly confess to the judge within our own breastsall that troubles our consciences, whether in thought or deed, andsincerely repent, we shall be sure of forgiveness for the sake of theSaviour's wounds."

  Maria now prepared for this silent confession, and sternly andpitilessly examined her conduct. Yes, she had fixed her gaze far toosteadily upon herself, asked much and given little. The fault wasrecognized, and now the amendment should begin.

  After this self-inspection, her heart grew lighter, and when she at lastturned away from the morning-light to seek sleep, she looked forwardwith pleasure to the affectionate greeting she meant to offer Peter inthe morning; but she soon fell asleep and when she woke, her husband hadlong since left the house.

  As usual, she set Peter's study in order before proceeding to any othertask, and while doing so, cast a friendly glance at the dead Eva'spicture. On the writing-table lay the bible, the only book not connectedwith his business affairs, that her husband ever read. Barbara sometimesdrew comfort and support from the volume, but also used it as an oracle,for when undecided how to act she opened it and pointed with her fingerto a certain passage. This usually had a definite meaning and shegenerally, though not always, acted as it directed. To-day she had beendisobedient, for in response to her question whether she might ventureto send a bag of all sorts of dainties to her son, a Beggar of the Sea,in spite of the Spaniards encircling the city, she had received thewords of Jeremiah: "Their tents and their flocks shall they take away:they shall take to themselves their curtains and all their vessels andtheir camels," and yet the bag had been entrusted early that morningto a widow, who intended to make her escape to Delft with her youngdaughter, according to the request of the magistrates. The gift mightperhaps reach Rotterdam; a mother always hopes for a miracle in behalfof her child.

  Before Maria restored the bible to its old place, she opened it at thethirteenth chapter of the first Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians,which speaks of love, and was specially dear to her. There were thewords: "Charity suffereth long and is kind, charity is not easilyprovoked;" and "Charity beareth all things, believeth all things, hopethall things, endureth all things."

  To be kind and patient, to hope and endure all things, was the duty loveimposed upon her.

  When she had closed the bible and was preparing to go to Henrica,Barbara ushered Janus Dousa into the room. The young nobleman to-daywore armor and gorget, and looked far more like a soldier than ascientist or poet. He had sought Peter in vain at the town-hall, andhoped to find him at home. One of the messengers sent to the Princehad returned from Dortrecht with a letter, which conferred on Dousa theoffice made vacant by Allertssohn's death. He was to command not onlythe city-guard, but all the armed force. He had accepted the appointmentwith cheerful alacrity, and requested Maria to inform her husband.

  "Accept my congratulations," said the burgomaster's wife. "But what willnow become of your motto: 'Ante omnia Musae?'"

  "I shall change the words a little and say: 'Omnia ante Musas."

  "Do you understand that jargon, child?" asked Barbara.

  "A passport will be given the Muses," replied Maria gaily.

  Janus was pleased with the ready repartee and exclaimed: "How bright andhappy you look! Faces free from care are rare birds in these days."

  Maria blushed, for she did not know how to interpret the words ofthe nobleman, who understood how to reprove with subtle mockery,and answered naively: "Don't think me frivolous, Junker. I know theseriousness of the times, but I have just finished a silent confessionand discovered many bad traits in my character, but also the desire toreplace them with more praiseworthy ones."

  "There, there," replied Janus. "I knew long ago that you had formed afriendship in the Delft school with my old sage. 'Know thyself,' wasthe Greek's principal lesson, and you wisely obey it. Every silentconfession, every desire for inward purification, must begin withthe purpose of knowing ourselves and, if in so doing we unexpectedlyencounter things which tend to make our beloved selves uncomely,and have the courage to find them just as hideous in ourselves as inothers--"

  "Abhorrence will come, and we shall have taken the first step towardsimprovement."

  "No, dear lady, we shall then stand on one of the higher steps. Afterhours of long, deep thought, Socrates perceived--do you know what?"

  "That he knew nothing at all. I shall arrive at this perception morespeedily."

  "And the Christian learns it at school," said Barbara, to join in theconversation. "All knowledge is botchwork."

  "And we are all sinners," added Janus. "That's easily said, dear madam,and easily understood, when others are concerned. 'He is a sinner'is quickly uttered, but 'I am a sinner' escapes the lips with moredifficulty, and whoever does exclaim it with sorrow, in the stillness ofhis own quiet room, mingles the white feathers of angels' wings with theblack pinions of the devil. Pardon me! In these times everything thoughtand said is transformed into solemn earnest. Mars is here, and thecheerful Muses are silent. Remember me to your husband, and tell him,that Captain Allertssohn's body has been brought in and to-morrow isappointed for the funeral."

  The nobleman took his leave, and Maria, after visiting her patient andfinding her well and bright, sent Adrian and Bessie into the gardenoutside the city-wall to gather flowers and foliage, which she intendedto help them weave into wreaths for the coffin of the brave soldier. Sheherself went to the captain's widow.