Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

by G. P. R. James

CHAPTER XXI.

We shall pass over the forenoon of the following day rapidly. The news of her father's death reached Mary of Burgundy early in the morning; and though she wept long and bitterly, her grief was now more calm and tranquil than it had been while uncertainty remained mingled with sorrow. More agitating tidings, however, had reached the Lord of Imbercourt and the Chancellor Hugonet, at a still earlier hour: for, by daybreak, the first rumours of the disarming of the soldiery, and the seizure of the gates and walls of the city by the burgher guard, had been communicated to them; and before they could take any measures in consequence, the painful fact that every post or defence in Ghent was in the hands of the citizens, had been reported from all quarters. Respect for the grief of the princess caused them to withhold from her, for some hours, the knowledge which they themselves possessed of the state of the city; and it was only when, by means of some other private agents, they received information that the principal burghers of the town had assembled in the town-house, and were voting a petition to the princess, praying a restitution of all those rights and privileges of which they had been deprived by Duke Charles, that they found it absolutely necessary to communicate to her, both what had occurred and what was likely to follow.

The news affected Mary of Burgundy less than they had expected; and, indeed, proved only a sufficient stimulus to rouse her from the grief into which she had fallen.

"Fear not, my Lord of Imbercourt," she said, as she saw the apprehension that overshadowed his countenance; "fear not, I will soon find means to quiet and satisfy the good people of Ghent. It was only while the will and ordinances of my father were opposed to my own inclinations, that I found any difficulty, or entertained any fear, in regard to the tranquillity of the state."

"I hope, madam, and I trust," replied Imbercourt, "that you may find it easy; but a stirred-up population is like one of those ravenous beasts, that seems to acquire a greater appetite by feeding largely. I trust that the Lords of Ravestein and Cleves, with others to whom I have despatched messengers, may soon arrive, and in sufficient force to overawe these insolent burghers; so that you may be obliged to grant nothing but that which is just and right, and be able to check concession at the proper point. Hark, lady!" he added, as a distant shout burst upon his ear, "the unmanly brutes allow you not one day for sorrow: they are coming even now."

Mary's cheek turned a little pale; but she showed no other sign of apprehension; and merely replied--"Let them come, my lord! They shall find it difficult to conquer the love of Mary of Burgundy; for love is the only arms that I shall oppose to my subjects. Alas! that they should ever be mine! I beseech you, my good lords, to have the hall of audience fittingly prepared to receive the people, who seem approaching fast. Have such guards and attendants drawn up as may give us some show of state. Alice, my sweet friend, seek out the noble duchess, and pray her to cast by her grief for a moment; for much do I need her presence and support in what is about to occur."

The orders of the princess were promptly obeyed. Margaret of York joined her in a few minutes. The hall of audience was prepared as speedily as possible; and everything was ready for the reception of the burghers before they reached the gates of the palace. The deputation, consisting of about twenty persons, dressed in their municipal robes, proceeded from the town-house on foot, followed and surrounded by an immense multitude of the lower orders, shouting loudly--"Ghent and liberty! Ghent and liberty! Long live the noble syndics!" They soon arrived at the building called the Cours du Prince; and some surprise, perhaps, was felt by the citizens, on finding themselves at once admitted to the palace, without any question, and ushered, through a line of armed guards, to the great hall of audience. The general impression among them was, that the counsellors of the princess, possessing a greater armed force than the townsmen had been aware of, were determined to bring the matter to an immediate decision; and, perhaps, even to arrest them in the palace, for the events of the night before. This supposition was rather increased by the appearance of the hall of audience, which was also lined with armed attendants; and by the demeanour of Imbercourt, Hugonet, and other counsellors, who stood with somewhat severe and frowning countenances on each side of the chair of state, which now remained vacant, under the rich crimson canopy that had so often overhung the stern, determined features of Charles the Bold.

As soon as they had entered the chamber, the deputation paused, uncertain to whom to address themselves. The counsellors neither spoke nor changed their position; and, for a few moments, there was a dead, unpleasant silence, which no one chose to break. At that instant, however, when the dumb confronting of the court and the citizens was becoming even painful to both, the door by the side of the throne was thrown open by one of the hussiers or door-keepers, and Mary of Burgundy, leaning on the arm of Margaret of York, preceded by some of the officers of the palace, and followed by two or three female attendants, entered the apartment, and advanced towards the chair.

She ascended the steps on which it was raised, but did not sit down; and, turning towards the deputation of the burghers, she bowed her head with a gentle inclination, while the novelty of her situation, the feeling that she was taking possession of her dead father's throne, and the difficulty of her circumstances, overcame her firmness for an instant, and she burst into tears.

Wiping the drops rapidly from her eyes, she made a sign to the Chancellor Hugonet, who immediately took a step forward, and said--addressing the deputation of citizens, who still stood at the further end of the room--"The high and mighty Princess, Mary, Duchess of Burgundy, Countess of Flanders and Hainault, is ready to receive any persons on behalf of her good town of Ghent."

There was a slight pause; and then Albert Maurice, as president of the provisional council, advanced towards the throne, and knelt on one knee upon the first step. Mary extended her fair hand to him, as he knelt, and with a flushed cheek and quivering lip, the young burgher bent his head over it, while something very like a tear glittered in his eye, too. In his left hand he held a roll of parchment; and, before he rose, he said--"Madam, I come to lay at your feet a humble address of condolence, and petition, from your good and faithful subjects, the citizens of Ghent. Is it your good pleasure that I read it?"

Mary bowed her head; and Albert Maurice, rising from his knee, unrolled the parchment which he held, and read, in gentle and respectful tones, the address which had that morning been agreed to in the town-hall. The terms in which it was couched were as mild and moderate as the young burgher, by his utmost eloquence, had been able to procure. The citizens, in the language of grief and respect, spoke of the high qualities of the late Duke of Burgundy; and touched as lightly as possible upon those acts of arbitrary power and barbarous harshness, which had deprived him of that love which the more noble and generous parts of his character might have obtained from his subjects. They continued, however, to notice his attacks upon the liberties of the good towns of Flanders, in terms both severe and firm; and they petitioned the princess immediately to take into consideration the consequences which such aggressions had produced, and to remedy the wrong that had been done by her father.

While Albert Maurice read the petition, the deputation had gradually advanced, and formed a little semicircle at a few yards distance from the throne; and when the young citizen had concluded, the princess immediately replied, addressing herself to all:--

"I did think, my good friends," she said, in a tone rather sad than reproachful, "that the day on which I first heard the sad news of my poor father's death, might have been passed in privacy, sanctified to mourning and to sorrow. I know, however, that communities are little capable of feeling for the griefs and affections of individuals, especially when those individuals are their princes; and, therefore, laying by my sorrow, I come willingly to hear your wants and wishes, and to assure you all of my firm resolve to do everything I can to satisfy and to make you happy. In regard to the rights and privileges of the city of Ghent, far be it from me, now or ever, to inquire why they were restrained or abridged by your late sovereign lord, my father; or to renew old griefs and dissensions, by investigating who was right or wrong in the times past. Me, men of Ghent, you have never yet offended; you are my fellow-countrymen, therefore I feel for you: you are my subjects, therefore I love you. At once, then, whether as a boon, or as a right, whether as your own due, or as a testimony of the affection of Mary of Burgundy, take, hold, and use wisely, all those privileges and immunities whatever, which you can prove that you have possessed at any time within fifty years of the present day. Farther back let us not inquire, for it would lead us to times when Ghent and Flanders, under the usurped domination of a man who was raised from the dregs of the people, by the people's discontent, endured a grosser and more bloody tyranny than ever they suffered from the most savage and cruel of their native princes."

"We thankfully accept your Grace's bounty," replied Albert Maurice; "and, without derogating from our own inherent rights, we willingly receive your free and generous confirmation of them, as a grace and benefit conferred; and so humbly take our leave."

"You will confer, my friends," said Mary, "with my chancellor here present, in regard to all the particulars which you may claim, and will have them clearly established and defined to the full extent of the words that I have used."

The deputation were then permitted to kiss the hand of the princess, and withdrew; and Mary, after giving one hasty glance round the hall of audience, retired, once more to indulge her grief in her own apartments.

With her, and with the Duchess of York, the hours passed in lonely mourning, only interrupted from time to time by an occasional call to transact some of the necessary business of the state; or by the tidings of some event which it was thought indispensable to communicate. In the streets and lanes of the city, however, the day went by with all those signs which show an anxious and excited population. Continual crowds collected in various parts of the town; now conversing among themselves, now listening to some popular declaimer. The busy and important were seen hurrying to and fro in every direction. The song, the fiddle, or the cornemuse, were exchanged for pitiable verses on the pitiable battle of Nancy; and while one part of the city was overflowing with people, and rang with the sound of many tongues, another showed streets totally deserted, the abode of silence and solitude.

At length, towards evening, a strong disposition to riot and tumult displayed itself. Whispers and rumours, originating no one knew where, were spread rapidly amongst the crowd, tending strongly to excite them to outrage. Some said that the council were bringing in large bodies of soldiers; some that the nobles were arming their attendants, and intended to repossess themselves of the gates. But the strongest and most generally credited reports were directed against the eschevins, or police magistrates of the city, whose very duties of investigation and punishment rendered them at all times obnoxious to the lower classes, but who were now hated in a tenfold degree, from the abrogation of the popular form of election in their last appointment. In several districts petty tumults actually took place; whoever bore the appearance of either a noble or a lawyer was insulted as soon as he appeared; and the burgher guard, which was more than once called out, with a very natural leaning to the people from which it was selected, took merely such means of repression as dispersed the crowds in one spot, only to collect in larger numbers in another.

In the meanwhile, Maillotin du Bac, as Prevot, and the druggist Ganay, as one of the notables of the town, mingled with the crowds, and harangued them with the apparent purpose of persuading them to return peaceably to their houses. The first, indeed, was anything but popular in the city; and some supposed that he was exposing himself to outrage by the active part he took; but it was wonderful to see how readily he assumed the tone and deportment necessary to captivate the people, and how speedily the multitude forgot his former conduct. It is true that neither he nor Ganay in their speeches said one word to appease the current of popular indignation, or to divert it from the point to which it was tending. They used every sort of common-place argument to induce the people to return to their own dwellings. They told them that it would be much better, much safer, much more prudent, to disperse, and to let things take their course; though they acknowledged, at the same time, that the eschevins, in the discharge of their illegal office, had acted cruelly and basely. Nevertheless, they said, that those instruments of tyranny would doubtless be brought to justice, if they were not by any means smuggled out of the city. In short, they did what may always be done: excited the people in a far greater degree, while they affected to tranquillize them; and pointed their fury to the very object from which they pretended to turn it.

The troops which remained in the town, though totally insufficient to overawe the citizens, or to repossess themselves of the walls and gates, were numerous enough to hold out, for any length of time, the palace or Cours du Prince, as it was called, which, according to the custom of the day, was strongly fortified; and which was, luckily, fully provisioned. The attention, therefore, of the ministers of the orphan princess was solely directed to adding temporary defences to her dwelling, and to repairing any slight defect which time or oversight had produced, without attempting the vain task of putting down the turbulent spirit which was manifesting itself in the city. No hostility, indeed, was evinced by the populace towards the princess or her attendants; and servants were suffered to go to and from the palace without the slightest molestation. But still the tidings of tumultuous movements, in various parts of the town, poured in through the evening; and, as Mary sat in a high chamber of a tall tower, long since pulled down, but which then rose above most of the buildings round, the distant shouts and cries caught her ear, and more than once made her inquire the cause. Towards nightfall, Imbercourt was summoned to her presence; and she asked eagerly if there were no means of pacifying the people.

"None, madam," replied the minister; "without, indeed, you could bribe some of their demagogues; and that would, of course, be merely hiring them to create tumults hereafter, whenever they wanted a fresh supply. I am afraid they must be suffered to have their way for a time. In the end, the populace will see their own folly, and the base selfishness of those that mislead them, and will return to quiet and tranquillity of their own accord. In the meanwhile, thank God, the palace is secure; so be under no apprehensions, madam, for we could hold it out for six months, against any force they can bring."

"Oh, I fear not for myself, my lord," replied Mary; "I fear for my subjects and my friends. I beseech you, my lord, leave not the palace to-night: they might murder you in your way to your own hotel."

"I do not believe, madam, that they have any ill-will towards me," replied Imbercourt: "I have never done them wrong, and have often stood between them and the anger of their prince. But my duty commands me to remain here, at least till the town is somewhat more calm; and I certainly will not quit the palace this night."

So saying, he withdrew; and Mary approached the lattice of the room in which she had been sitting, and which commanded a somewhat extensive view over the city; though the objects that were visible were rather the roofs of buildings and the spires of churches, than the busy multitudes which she would fain have watched, herself unseen. Every now and then, however, a glance was to be caught of some of the manifold canals and squares of Ghent; and Mary threw open the window, in order, ere the light faded away entirely, to gain a view of any of the crowds whose shouts she heard. But the effort was vain; and turning away from the chilling blast of the January wind, she closed the window, and was returning to her seat, when she found that Alice of Imbercourt had followed her to the deep arch in which the casement was situated.

"I wish, dearest lady," said her fair follower, "that you would take the counsel of a simple girl, which, I have a fond belief, would be better than that of all these grave signiors."

"Well, my Alice," replied the princess, with a faint smile, "what would you have me do?"

"May I speak boldly, lady?" demanded Alice.

"Ay, indeed, as boldly as you will," answered Mary, whose heart wanted some bosom into which to pour its anxieties and sorrows. "But first, dear friend, send away those two girls, who sit moping by the fire, sharing my distress, without feeling my grief. Bid the page go light the lamps in the lower chamber, and tell them to take thither their embroidery frames, and work diligently, while we two stay here in the grey twilight, as dim and melancholy as my thoughts."

Her commands were speedily obeyed. "And now, Alice," she said, as the other returned, "what would you have me do?"

"I would have you despatch a messenger this very night," replied the young lady, boldly, "to the only person on whose arm and to whose heart you can rely to defend and guard you in the present strait--I mean to the Arch--"

"Hush, hush! Not for a universe!" cried Mary "Good Heaven! what would he deem me? No, Alice, no! you would surely never advise me to such a step. Fie! fie! mention it not!"

"I knew that you would start away, my dearest mistress," replied her fair counsellor; "but you must hear me still. What can you do better? What can you do so well? The circumstances in which you are placed, the difficulties which surround you, do they not justify such an act? do they not render it wise and right, instead of indelicate and bold? The Archduke Maximilian was once plighted to you by your own father; and if ever two people loved each other--"

"Hush! Alice, I entreat, I command," interrupted the princess. "It must not, it cannot be. If such be your advice, speak no more: what I wanted was counsel how to tranquillize these unquiet people of Ghent."

"I had something to say on that score, too," replied Alice of Imbercourt; "but perchance, my advice will not be more palatable to you, in regard to that matter, than in regard to the other."

"Nay, nay; be not offended, Alice," answered Mary; "none can judge of that on which you were speaking, but myself; but, of this business of Ghent, perhaps any one can judge better."

"Well, then, madam, I will say my say," replied Alice; "and you can follow my counsel or not, as you think best. You marked the young burgher, with the furred robe and the gold chain, who read you the address this morning? You must remember him--as handsome a youth as ever lady's eye rested on."

"I scarcely saw him," said the princess; "nor should have noticed him at all, but that I think it was the same who, some three or four months since, was accused before the council of high treason, and acquitted himself most nobly."

"The same, exactly the same," replied Alice; "his name is Albert Maurice, as I hear; and he bears the noblest reputation of any young citizen of them all. I have heard even my own father declare, that yon young man has too high a mind, and too noble a spirit, for his class and station."

"Well, what of him?" demanded the princess; "I fear me that his noble spirit will work us little good; for, from all I saw to-day, he seems to lead the disaffected of the city."

"You marked him not as I did, madam," answered Alice: "never mind what I saw, or what I fancied that I saw. He does lead all parties in the city, I hear; and I am fain to think, that had it not been for him, that petition and address, as they call it, would have had a ruder tone. Lady, that young man is well disposed towards you and yours; and I believe that he might be easily worked upon to use his great influence to cure the present madness of the people."

"Indeed, I believe he is well disposed," said Mary; "for, I remember, by your father's counsel, I had him called back after the trial, and besought him, in private, to do his best to maintain peace and order in the city."

"My father's counsel was wise, madam," replied Alice, with a quiet smile; "and his daughter's is just of the same piece. What I would have you do now is what my father led you to do then. Send for this Albert Maurice, and beseech him, fairly and gently, to do his best to quiet the populace, and to restore tranquillity. Appeal to his generosity--to his gratitude; show him how frankly you granted the petition of the citizens this morning; and, take my word, you will make a convert and a powerful friend."

"With all my heart," exclaimed Mary, at once; "but there is no time to be lost: hie thee down to thy father, dear Alice; tell him what I have resolved to do, and bid him send a messenger for the young citizen directly."

"Nay, nay, dear lady," answered Alice, smiling again, "that way will never do. In the first place, I hear my father is not, just now, the best beloved in the city, for suffering a young man to be executed who had committed murder, and was condemned by the eschevins; and, besides that, I learned from one of my women but now, that he had sent, in his own name, to this Albert Maurice and another of the citizens, named Ganay, and that they refused to come."

"Then, most probably, they would refuse me, too," replied the princess; "and though Mary of Burgundy will do all that she can to make her people happy, she must not stoop to beg their presence, and be refused."

"No fear, no fear, madam," said Alice of Imbercourt; "but leave the matter to me, and I will answer for it, that, ere half an hour be over, the young citizen shall be standing here before you."

"What do you propose to do, then," demanded the princess.

"Merely to write a billet, desiring Master Albert Maurice, in the name of Mary, Duchess of Burgundy, to render himself to the palace, with all speed, in order to speak with his sovereign," was her fair attendant's answer.

"Nay, but it may seem strange," said the princess; "I hardly dare to do so without speaking with your father."

"If you make it a matter for counsellors, lady," replied Alice, "all our scheme fails, or worse may come of it than you suspect. I have already heard the constable of the reiters and one of your Grace's council regretting that they did not seize upon the deputation this morning, as a pledge for the submission of the people. No, no; he must come in disguise, and must go in disguise. I will send the page with the billet; he is shrewd and active, and shall bring him in by the postern, on the canal. Nay, nay, lady," she added, seeing Mary about to make some farther opposition, "I will take it all upon myself. I will write the note, and send the page, and bid the sentry give him admission on his return: and if aught is heard of it, it will but pass for the trick of a mad-headed girl--and I have more to lose than you too, my princess," she continued, laughing; "for I have a lover who could be as jealous as a spaniel dog, if I chose to let him."

Mary still hesitated, and probably might have refused her consent; but some nearer and louder shouts met her ear, giving evidence that the crowds were increasing as the night came on, and determined her to accede. Alice's proposal was agreed to accordingly; and, as every moment was apparently adding to the tumult in the city, she proceeded to put the scheme in execution immediately.