XIV
In those days William the Silent gathered together an army and invaded the country of the Netherlands from three sides.
And Ulenspiegel was at a meeting of his countrymen at Marenhout. And they were wild with anger and he addressed them in this wise:
“Know you, my friends, that King Philip has taken counsel with the Holy Inquisition, and by their advice he has declared all the inhabitants of the Netherlands to be guilty of high treason. And the charge against them is one of heresy, namely, that either they are heretics themselves, or else that they have put no obstacles in the way of the spread of heretical doctrine. And for this execrable crime the King has condemned them all, without regard to age or sex, to suffer the appropriate penalties—all except a few here and there that are exempted by name. And there is no hope of grace or pardon. And the King will enter into their inheritance. For the scythes of Death are busy through all the wide land that borders the North Sea: the Duchy of Emden, the river-land of Amise, and the countries of Westphalia and of Cleves, of Juliers and Liége, together with the Bishoprics of Cologne and Treves and the lands of France and Lorraine. The scythes of Death are busy over more than three hundred leagues of our soil, and in two hundred of our walled towns, in a hundred and fifty boroughs, in the countrysides and villages and level lands of the whole country. And the King is taking all for his own. And I tell you,” Ulenspiegel continued, “that eleven thousand executioners will not be too many for this business. But the Duke of Alba calls them soldiers. And all the land of our fathers is become a charnel-house. Fugitive are all the arts of peace, and all the crafts and industries abandon us now to enrich those foreign lands which still permit a man to worship at home the God of conscience. But here the scythes of Death are busy, and the King takes all for his own.
“Our country, as you know, had gained various privileges by gifts of money to princes when they were in need. But now these privileges have all been annulled. And as the result of many an agreement made between ourselves and our overlords we had hoped to enjoy the wealth that came to us as the fruit of our labours. Yet were we deceived. The stone-mason builded for the incendiary, the labourer laboured for the thief. And the King takes all for his own.
“Blood and tears! Everywhere naught but blood and tears! For the scythes of Death are busy—busy at the places of execution and at the trees that serve for gallows by the roadsides; and at many an open grave wherein are thrown the living bodies of our maids. And they are busy in the prison dungeons and within those circles of faggots that flame around the victims, scorching them little by little to death; or in the huts of straw where they fall suffocated in the fire and the smoke. And the King takes all for his own. And this, forsooth, by the will of the Pope of Rome. The very cities teem with spies that await their share of the plunder. The richer one is the more likely one is to be found guilty. And the King takes all for his own.
“But never shall the valiant men of Flanders suffer themselves to be butchered thus like lambs. For among those who fly away for refuge there are some who carry arms, and these are hiding in the woods....
“The monks verily have denounced them and hold themselves free to kill them and take possession of their goods. But by night and day these refugees, banded together like wild beasts, rush down upon the monasteries and seize the money that has been stolen from the poor, and take it away under the form of candlesticks and reliquaries of gold and silver, ciboria and patens, and other precious vessels of the kind.... Do I not speak truth, my friends? And they drink therefrom that wine which the monks had been keeping for themselves. And when melted down or mortgaged, these vessels will serve to provide money for the Holy War. Long live the Beggarmen!
“And even now they begin to harass the soldiers of the King, killing and plundering, then back into their lairs. And in the woods by day and night are to be seen the fires which have been lit during the hours of darkness, flaring up or dying down and ever breaking out in some fresh place. These are the fires of our banquetings. All for us the game of the woods, both furred and feathered. We are the masters here. And the peasants load us with bread and bacon whenever we are in need. Look at them Lamme; fierce and talkative, resolute and proud of bearing, they wander through the woods. And they are armed with hatchets and halberds, and with long swords and bragmarts, with arquebuses, pikes, lances, and crossbows. For any kind of weapon is good enough for such brave men, and they need no officers to lead them. Long live the Beggarmen!”
And Ulenspiegel sang this song:
Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
Drums of war!
Slit the carcass of the Duke,
Flog him on his hangman’s face!
To the death with the murderer!
Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
Drums of war!
With the victims of his wrath
Foul corruption let him share!
But long live the Beggarmen!
Christ from Heaven look Thou down,
Look upon thy soldiers true,
That risk hanging, fire, and sword
For thy Word!
And for their dear Fatherland!
Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
Drums of war!
And all drank the toast and cried aloud:
“Long live the Beggarmen!”
And Ulenspiegel drank in his turn from a golden goblet that had once belonged to some monk or other, and proudly he gazed on the wild faces of the brave Beggarmen that stood before him.
“Men,” he cried, “wild beasts rather that are my comrades, be you wolves lions, or tigers in very deed, and eat up all the cursed dogs of this King of Blood!”
“Long live the Beggarmen!” they shouted, and yet again they sang the song of
Beat the drum! Beat the drum!
Drums of war!