The Burgomaster's Wife — Complete

by Georg Ebers

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  On the morning of the following day the spacious shooting-grounds,situated not far from the White Gate, between the Rapenburg and thecity-wall, presented a busy scene, for by a decree of the council thecitizens and inhabitants, without exception, no matter whether they werepoor or rich, of noble or plebeian birth, were to take a solemn oath tobe loyal to the Prince and the good cause.

  Commissioner Van Bronkhorst, Burgomaster Van der Werff, and two othermagistrates, clad in festal attire, stood under a group of beautifullinden-trees to receive the oaths of the men and youths, who flocked tothe spot. The solemn ceremonial had not yet commenced. Janus Dousa, infull uniform, a coat of mail over his doublet and a helmet on his head,arm-in-arm with Van Hout, approached Meister Peter and the commissioner,saying: "Here it is again! Not one of the humbler citizens andworkmen is absent, but the gentlemen in velvet and fur are but thinlyrepresented."

  "They shall come yet!" cried the city clerk menacingly.

  "What will formal vows avail?" replied the burgomaster. "Whoever desiresliberty, must grant it. Besides, this hour will teach us on whom we candepend."

  "Not a single man of the militia is absent," said the commissioner.

  "There is comfort in that. What is stirring yonder in the linden?"

  The men looked up and perceived Adrian, who was swaying in the topof the tree, as a concealed listener. "The boy must be everywhere,"exclaimed Peter. "Come down, saucy lad. You appear at a convenienttime."

  The boy clung to a limb with his hands, let himself drop to the groundand stood before his father with a penitent face, which he knew how toassume when occasion required. The burgomaster uttered no further wordsof reproof, but bade him go home and tell his mother, that he saw nopossibility of getting Belotti through the Spanish lines in safety, andalso that Father Damianus had promised to call on the young lady in thecourse of the day.

  "Hurry, Adrian, and you, constables, keep all unbidden persons awayfrom these trees, for any place where an oath is taken becomes sacredground--The clergymen have seated themselves yonder near the target.They have the precedence. Have the kindness to summon them, Herr VanHout. Dominie Verstroot wishes to make an address, and then I would liketo utter a few words of admonition to the citizens myself."

  Van Hout withdrew, but before he had reached the preachers Junker vonWarmond appeared, and reported that a messenger, a handsome young lad,had come as an envoy. He was standing before the White Gate and had aletter.

  "From Valdez?"

  "I don't know; but the young fellow is a Hollander and his face isfamiliar to me."

  "Conduct him here; but don't interrupt us until the ceremony of takingthe oath is over. The messenger can tell Valdez what he has seen andheard here. It will do the Castilian good, to know in advance what weintend."

  The Junker withdrew, and when he returned with Nicolas Van Wibisma, whowas the messenger, Dominie Verstroot had finished his stirring speech.Van der Werff was still speaking. The sacred fire of enthusiasmsparkled in his eyes, and though the few words he addressed to hisfellow-combatants in the deepest chest tones of his powerful voice wereplain and unadorned, they found their way to the souls of his auditors.

  Nicolas also followed the speech with a throbbing heart; it seemed as ifthe tall, earnest man under the linden were speaking directly to himand to him alone, when at the close he raised his voice once more andexclaimed enthusiastically:

  "And now let what will, come! A brave man from your midst has saidto-day: 'We will not yield, so long as an arm is left on our bodies, toraise food to our lips and wield a sword!' If we all think thus, twentySpanish armies will find their graves before these walls. On Leydendepends the liberty of Holland. If we waver and fall, to escape themisery that only threatens us to-day, but will pitilessly oppress andtorture us later, our children will say: 'The men of Leyden were blindcowards; it is their fault, that the name of Hollander is held in nohigher esteem, than that of a useless slave.' But if we faithfullyhold out and resist the gloomy foreigner to the last man and thelast mouthful of bread, they will remember us with tears and joyfullyexclaim: 'We owe it to them, that our noble, industrious, happy peopleis permitted to place itself proudly beside the other nations, and needno longer tolerate the miserable cuckoo in its own nest. Let whoeverloves honor, whoever is no degenerate wretch, that betrays his parents'house, whoever would rather be a free man than a slave, ere raisinghis hand before God to take the oath, exclaim with me: 'Long live ourshield, Orange, and a free Holland!'"

  "They shall live!" shouted hundreds of powerful voices, five, ten,twenty times. The gunner discharged the cannon planted near the target,drums beat, one flourish of trumpets after another filled the air, theringing of bells from all the towers of the city echoed over theheads of the enthusiastic crowd, and the cheering continued until thecommissioner waved his hand and the swearing fealty began.

  The guilds and the armed defenders of the city pressed forward in bandsunder the linden. Now impetuously, now with dignified calmness, nowwith devout exaltation, hands were raised to take the oath, and whoeverclasped hands did so with fervent warmth. Two hours elapsed before allhad sworn loyalty, and many a group that had passed under the lindentogether, warmly grasped each other's hands on the grounds in pledge ofa second silent vow.

  Nicolas Van Wibisma sat silently, with his letter in his lap, beside atarget opposite the spot where the oath was taken, but sorrowful, bitteremotions were seething in his breast. How gladly he would have weptaloud and torn his father's letter! How gladly, when he saw thevenerable Herr Van Montfort come hand in hand with the grey-haired Vander Does to be sworn, he would have rushed to their side to take theoath, and call to the earnest man beneath the linden:

  "I am no degenerate wretch, who betrays his parents' house; I desire tobe no slave, no Spaniard; I am a Netherlander, like yourself."

  But he did not go, did not speak, he remained sitting motionless tillthe ceremony was over and Junker von Warmond conducted him under thelinden. Van Hout and both the Van der Does had joined the magistrateswho had administered the oath. Bowing silently, Nicolas delivered hisfather's letter to the burgomaster.

  Van der Werff broke the seal, and after reading it, handed it to theother gentlemen, then turning to Nicolas, said:

  "Wait here, Junker. Your father counsels us to yield the city to theSpaniards, and promises a pardon from the King. You cannot doubt theanswer, after what you have heard in this place."

  "There is but one," cried Van Hout, in the midst of reading the letter."Tear the thing up and make no reply."

  "Ride home, in God's name," added Janus Dousa. "But wait, I'll give yousomething more for Valdez."

  "Then you will vouchsafe no reply to my father's letter?" asked Nicolas.

  "No, Junker. We wish to hold no intercourse with Baron Matanesse,"replied the commissioner. "As for you, you can return home or wait here;just as you choose."

  "Go to your cousin, Junker," said Janus Dousa kindly; "it will probablybe an hour before I can find paper, pen and sealing wax. Fraulein VanHoogstraten will be glad to hear, through you, from her father."

  "If agreeable to you, young sir," added the burgomaster; "my housestands open to you."

  Nicolas hesitated a moment, then said quickly: "Yes, take me to her."

  When the youth had reached the north end of the city with Herr vonWarmond, who had undertaken to accompany him, he asked the latter:

  "Are you Junker Van Duivenvoorde, Herr von Warmond?"

  "I am."

  "And you captured Brill, with the Beggars, from the Spaniards?"

  "I had that good fortune."

  "And yet, you are of a good old family. And were there not othernoblemen with the Beggars also?"

  "Certainly. Do you suppose it ill-beseems us, to have a heart for ourancestors' home? My forefathers, as well as yours, were noble before aSpaniard ever entered the land."

  "But King Philip rules us as the lawful sovereign."

  "Unhappily. And therefore we obey his
Stadtholder, the Prince, whoreigns in his name. The perjured hangman needs a guardian. Ask on; I'llanswer willingly."

  Nicolas did not heed the request, but walked silently beside hiscompanion until they reached the Achtergracht. There he stood still,seized the captain's arm in great excitement, and said hastily in low,broken sentences:

  "It weighs on my heart. I must tell some one. I want to be Dutch. I hatethe Castilians. I have learned to know them in Leyderdorp and at theHague. They don't heed me, because I am young, and they are not awarethat I understand their language. So my eyes were opened. When theyspeak of us, it is with contempt and scorn. I know all that has beendone by Alva and Vargas. I have heard from the Spaniards' own lips, thatthey would like to root us out, exterminate us. If I could only do as Ipleased, and were it not for my father, I know what I would do. My headis so confused. The burgomaster's speech is driving me out of my wits.Tell him, Junker, I beseech you, tell him I hate the Spaniards and itwould be my pride to be a Netherlander."

  Both had continued their walk, and as they approached the burgomaster'shouse, the captain, who had listened to the youth with joyful surprise,said:

  "You're cut from good timber, Junker, and on the way to the right goal.Only keep Herr Peter's speech in your mind, and remember what you havelearned in history. To whom belong the shining purple pages in the greatbook of national history? To the tyrants, their slaves and eye-servants,or the men who lived and died for liberty? Hold up your head. Thisconflict will perhaps outlast both our lives, and you still have a longtime to put yourself on the right side. The nobleman must serve hisPrince, but he need be no slave of a ruler, least of all a foreigner,an enemy of his nation. Here we are; I'll come for you again in an hour.Give me your hand. I should like to call you by your Christian name infuture, my brave Nico."

  "Call me so," exclaimed the youth, "and--you'll send no one else? Ishould like to talk with you again."

  The Junker was received in the burgomaster's house by Barbara. Henricacould not see him immediately, Father Damianus was with her, so he wasobliged to wait in the dining-room until the priest appeared. Nicolasknew him well, and had even confessed to him once the year before. Aftergreeting the estimable man and answering his inquiry how he had comethere, he said frankly and hastily:

  "Forgive me, Father, but something weighs upon my heart. You are a holyman, and must know. Is it a crime, if a Hollander fights against theSpaniards, is it a sin, if a Hollander wishes to be and remain what Godmade him? I can't believe it."

  "Nor do I," replied Damianus in his simple manner. "Whoever clingsfirmly to our holy church, whoever loves his neighbor and strives todo right, may confidently favor the Dutch, and pray and fight for thefreedom of his native land."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Nicolas, with sparkling eyes.

  "For," continued Damianus more eagerly, "for you see, before theSpaniards came into the country, they were good Catholics here and leddevout lives, pleasing in the sight of God. Why should it not be soagain? The most High has separated men into nations, because He wills,that they should lead their own lives and shape them for their salvationand His honor; but not to give the stronger nation the right to tortureand oppress another. Suppose your father went out to walk and a Spanishgrandee should jump on his shoulders and make him taste whip and spur,as if he were a horse. It would be bad for the Castilian. Now substituteHolland for Herr Matanesse, and Spain for the grandee, and you will knowwhat I mean. There is nothing left for us to do, except cast off theoppressor. Our holy church will sustain no loss. God appointed it, andit will stand whether King Philip or another rules. Now you know myopinion. Do I err or not, in thinking that the name of Glipper no longerpleases you, dear Junker?"

  "No, Father Damianus!--You are right, a thousand times right. It is nosin, to desire a free Holland."

  "Who told you it was one?"

  "Canon Bermont and our chaplain."

  "Then we are of a different opinion concerning this temporal matter.Give to God the things that are God's, and remain where the Lord placedyou. When your beard grows, if you wish to fight for the liberty ofHolland, do so confidently. That is a sin for which I will gladly grantyou absolution."

  Henrica was greatly delighted to see the fresh, happy-looking youthagain. Nicolas was obliged to tell her about her father and his, andinform her how he had come to Leyden. When she heard that he intendedto return in an hour, a bright idea entered her mind, which was whollyengrossed by Belotti's mission. She told Nicolas what she meant todo, and begged him to take the steward through the Spanish army to theHague. The Junker was not only ready to fulfil her request, but promisedthat, if the old man wanted to return, he would apprize her of it insome way.

  At the end of an hour she bade the boy farewell, and when again walkingtowards the Achtergracht with Herr von Warmond, he asked joyously:

  "How shall I get to the Beggars?"

  "You?" asked the captain in astonishment.

  "Yes, I!" replied the Junker eagerly. "I shall soon be seventeen, andwhen I am--Wait, just wait--you'll hear of me yet."

  "Right, Nicolas, right," replied the other. "Let us be Holland noblesand noble Hollanders."

  Three hours later, Junker Matanesse Van Wibisma rode into the Hague withBelotti, whom he had loved from childhood. He brought his father nothingbut a carefully-folded and sealed letter, which Janus Dousa, with amischievous smile, had given him on behalf of the citizens of Leydenfor General Valdez, and which contained, daintily inscribed on a largesheet, the following lines from Dionysius Cato:

  "Fistula dulce canit volucrem dum decipit auceps."

  ["Sweet are the notes of the flute, when the fowler lures the bird to his nest."]