XI
One day Simon Simonsen said to Ulenspiegel:
“Hearken, brother mine, and tell me, are you a brave man think you?”
“Brave enough,” answered Ulenspiegel, “to whip a Spaniard to death, to kill an assassin, or to murder a murderer.”
“Do you think you could hide yourself in a chimney and wait there patiently so as to overhear what was being said in the room below?”
“God has given me strong legs,” answered Ulenspiegel, “and a supple back, and in virtue of these gifts I could stand a long time in whatever position I would, like a cat.”
“Have you patience and a good memory?” asked Simon.
“The ashes of Claes beat upon my breast,” answered Ulenspiegel.
“Very well then,” said Simon, “you will take this playing card, folded as you see it, and you will go to Dendermonde to a house, a drawing of which I will give you, and you will knock at the door twice loudly and once softly. Some one will open to you and will ask if you are the chimney-sweep; you will answer that you are he and that you have not lost the card. Then you will show the card to him who opened the door. After that, Tyl, you must do as best you can. For great are the evils that are a-planning against the land of Flanders. And you will be conducted to a chimney that has been swept and cleaned against your arrival, and in it you will find a series of strong cramp-irons made ready for you to climb by, and a little wooden shelf securely fastened to the side of the chimney for a seat; and when he that has opened the door shall direct you, you will climb up into your hiding-place, and there remain. In the chamber below, and in front of the chimney where you will be hidden, a conference is to be held between certain noble Lords: William the Silent, Prince of Orange, and the Counts d’Egmont, de Hoorn, de Hoogstraeten, and Ludwig of Nassau, the brother of William. And we Reformers desire to find out whether these noble Lords are able and willing to undertake the saving of our country.”
Well, on the first day of April, Ulenspiegel did as he had been bidden and took up his place in the chimney. Luckily for him there was no fire in the grate, and it seemed that the absence of smoke would not make it any the less easy for him to hear properly. After a little while the door of the room was opened, and Ulenspiegel was pierced through and through by a draught of cold wind blowing up the chimney. But he endured the wind with patience, telling himself that it would serve to keep him alert and attentive.
After a while he could hear my Lords of Orange, Egmont and the rest making their entrance into the room. They began by speaking of the fears they felt, of the wrath of the King and of the maladministration of the revenue and finances of the country. One of them spoke in a sharp, clear, and haughty tone of voice, which Ulenspiegel recognized as that of my Lord of Egmont; just as he recognized de Hoogstraeten by his husky tones, and de Hoorn by his loud voice, the Count Ludwig of Nassau by his firm and soldierly manner of speech, and William the Silent by that slow, deliberate way of enunciating his words as if they had all been thought out beforehand and weighed in a balance.
The Count d’Egmont asked why they had been summoned to this second conference when they had had plenty of time at Hellegat to come to a decision on what they meant to do. De Hoorn replied that the days passed quickly, that the King was growing angry, and that they must be careful to lose no time.
Then spake William the Silent.
“The country is in danger. It must be defended against the attack of a foreign army.”
At this d’Egmont grew excited, and said that he was indeed astonished to hear that the King his master had thought it necessary to send an army when all was so peaceful by reason of the watchful care of their noble Lordships, and of himself especially.
But William the Silent made answer:
“King Philip already has an army in the Low Countries consisting of not less than fourteen regiments of artillery, and they are under the control of him who commanded them at Gravelines, a general to whom all the soldiers are devoted.”
D’Egmont said that he could scarcely believe it.
“I will say no more,” said William, “but there are certain letters which shall be read to you and to the assembled Lords, and to begin with, letters from the poor prisoner, Monsieur de Montigny.”
And in these letters it was told how that the King was extremely vexed with what was happening in the Low Countries, and that when the hour was come he had determined to punish the fomenters of disturbance.
It was at this juncture that the Count d’Egmont complained of the cold, and desired to have the fire lit; the which was done while the two Lords continued their discussion of those letters. Now it was a big fire of wood, but it did not burn well on account of that big obstruction which was hidden in the chimney, and the room became quickly full of smoke.
Then the Count de Hoogstraeten began to read (for all that he was coughing continually because of the smoke) certain letters which had been intercepted on their way from Alava, the Spanish ambassador, to the Governess of the Netherlands.
“The ambassador,” he said, “writes that all the evil that has happened in the Low Countries was the work of three men: the Lords of Orange, Egmont, and Hoorn. But it were desirable, he adds, to appear well disposed to these three, and to tell them that the King recognizes that it is thanks to them that their lands have been kept loyal to him. As for the two others, Montigny and de Berghes, let them alone where they are.”
“Ah!” said Ulenspiegel, “I had rather a smoky chimney in the land of Flanders than a damp prison in the land of Spain; for garrotters grow between damp walls.”
But the Count de Hoogstraeten continued:
“The said ambassador adds that on one occasion the King, being in the city of Madrid, spoke these words: ‘By all accounts that come from the Low Countries it is evident that our royal reputation is diminished, and we are ready therefore to abandon all our other possessions rather than leave such a rebellion unpunished. We are decided to proceed to the Netherlands in person, and to claim the assistance of the Pope and of the Emperor. For beneath the present evil is concealed a future good. We shall reclaim the Low Countries to absolute obedience, and according to our own will we shall modify the constitution of that State, its religion and its government.’”
“Ah, King Philip,” said Ulenspiegel, “if only I could modify yours to mine! Verily you would suffer, under the blows of my trusty Flemish stick, a wondrous modification of your thighs and arms and legs! I would fix your head in the middle of your back with a couple of nails, and as you viewed from this position the charnel-house you have created, you should sing at your good ease a pretty song of tyrannous modification!”
Now wine was brought, and de Hoogstraeten rose upon his feet and said:
“I drink to our country!” and every one followed his example, and when he had finished the toast he threw his empty tankard down on the table, and said: “Now sounds an evil hour for the nobility of Belgium. Let us take counsel as to how we may best defend ourselves.”
He awaited some response, and looked at d’Egmont, but he uttered not a word, and it was left to William of Orange to break the silence.
“We can offer resistance,” he said, “provided that the Count d’Egmont—who at Saint-Quentin and at Gravelines has twice made France to tremble and who holds complete sway over the Flemish soldiery—provided that he, I repeat, is willing to come to our assistance in our endeavour to prevent the Spaniard from entering the fatherland.”
To this my Lord of Egmont made answer:
“I have too much respect for the King to think that it is right that we should take up arms against him like rebels. Let those who fear his wrath retire before it. I shall remain where I am, for I have no means of living if I am deprived of his help.”
“Philip knows how to avenge himself most cruelly,” said William the Silent.
“I trust him,” answered d’Egmont.
“You would trust him with your heads?” asked Ludwig of Nassau.
“Head, body, and soul,” replied d’Egmont.
“Friend, faithful and true, I will do likewise,” said de Hoorn.
But William said:
“It behoves us to be far-sighted, and not to wait for things to happen.”
And then my Lord of Egmont spoke again, very excitedly.
“I have arrested twenty-two Reformers at Grammont,” he said, “and if their preachings come to an end, and if punishment is meted out to the iconoclasts, the anger of the King will be appeased.”
But William said:
“These are mere hopes.”
“Let us arm ourselves with trust,” said d’Egmont.
“Let us arm ourselves with trust,” echoed de Hoorn.
“It is cold steel rather than trust that should be our weapons,” replied de Hoogstraeten.
Whereupon William the Silent made a sign to the effect that he wished to depart.
“Adieu, Prince without a country,” said the Count d’Egmont.
“Adieu, Prince without a head,” answered William.
“The sheep are for the butcher,” said Ludwig of Nassau, “but glory waits the soldier that saves the land of his fathers.”
“That I cannot,” said d’Egmont, “neither do I desire to.”
“May the blood of the victims fall once again upon the head of the flatterer,” said Ulenspiegel.
And then those Lords retired.
Whereupon did Ulenspiegel come down from his chimney, and go straightway to carry the news to Praet. And the latter said: “D’Egmont is nothing better than a traitor. But God is with the Prince.”
The Duke! The Duke at Brussels! Where are the safes and coffers that have wings?