CHAPTER XXXIV.
The transactions of the next few days, though certainly comprising matters of great interest to many of the persons connected with the present history, must be passed over as briefly as possible, because their nature is in a certain sense discordant with the general tenour of the story. This is no tale of battles; unless it be the battle of passions in the human heart; and therefore it is that we give no minute detail of the incidents which befel Albert Maurice in his short but brilliant military career. Suffice it to say, that by happy combinations, and the strenuous exertion of the great activity which was one of the most conspicuous traits in his character, he had, in the short space of five days, thrown forces into Douai and Lille, and had defeated Le Lude and a body of men-at-arms despatched from Arras to cut off his retreat.
Well aware of the mighty effect of success in blowing up the bubble of popularity, he despatched messenger after messenger to Ghent, bearing tidings of each event as it occurred. Joy and gratulation spread through the city; and the people of Ghent, elated by their novel exploits in arms, laid out in fancy vast plans of conquest and aggrandizement, and began to think themselves invincible in the field. Nor was his military success without effect upon the heart of Albert Maurice himself. It did not, it is true, produce such overweening expectations in his own bosom, as it did in those of his weaker fellow citizens. But it certainly did give him fresh confidence in his own powers, from the very fact of finding good fortune attend him in every effort, however new and unfamiliar to his habits and his mind. It nerved him to dare all, and to struggle against every difficulty; and the combination of constant occupation and repeated triumph drowned, for the time, those feelings of remorse and self-upbraiding which, day by day, had been acquiring a stronger hold upon his heart. Besides, it communicated to his mind the refreshing consciousness of being energetically employed in the execution of duties totally unmingled with any baser motive in their origin, or any degrading means in their progress. In the actions which he performed during these four days, he felt that for the first time he was really serving his country--that he was winning a purer glory and gaining a nobler name, than faction or intrigue, whatever might be its object, and whatever might be its result, could ever obtain for man; and his heart expanded with a joy long unknown when, at night he summed up the events of the day, and found that another sun had risen and set on deeds which he could dare all the world to scrutinize. Still the necessity of his immediate return to Ghent was not the less felt; and as soon as ever he had accomplished the great purpose of his expedition, he commenced his march homewards, and pursued it with as much rapidity as possible.
His force was, by this time, reduced to a thousand horse, from the various reinforcements he had thrown into the frontier towns; but nevertheless, confident of his own powers, in returning to Ghent he took a road which passed in the immediate neighbourhood of Tournay, although various bands detached from the garrison of that city were continually making excursions into the country around. He fixed his quarters for the night, after his first day's march homeward, in a little village about three miles to the east of that town; and, taking such precautions as were necessary to guard against surprise, he passed the hours of darkness undisturbed.
It was a fine spring morning when he again put his troops in motion. The sun had just risen; and the fresh, elastic air, driving the vapours of the night before it, had gathered together in the north a wide extent of dark clouds, streaked with the whiter mists that were every moment carried to join them by the wind; while, over all the rest of the sky, the bright sunshine was pouring triumphantly, and flashing upon the diamond drops that the night had left behind on every spray and every blade of grass.
The body of horse which the young citizen commanded moved on quickly, but cautiously, through the by-roads and less direct paths which led between Tournay and Ath; and it had proceeded in this manner for about an hour, when the distant sound of a culverin, followed by a heavy discharge of artillery, was borne upon his ear from the westward. The troopers listened eagerly, with no small curiosity written on their countenances; but the face of Albert Maurice scarcely betrayed that he heard the sounds, except by a curl of the lip, slight indeed, but bitter and contemptuous. He rode on without comment; and, shortly after, as he led his force over the summit of a small hill, he could perceive on looking towards Tournay, though the place itself was hidden by some wavy ground that intervened, a long stream of thick, white smoke, drifting down the valley in which that city stands. He drew in his horse for a moment, and gazed upon the sight; and then, putting his force into a quicker pace, pursued his road onward towards Ghent.
The path which they were following entered, at about the distance of two miles from the spot where they then were, the high road from Tournay to Oudenarde; and, passing among some woody grounds, it lay very much concealed from observation. As they came near the open road, however, Albert Maurice himself proceeded a little in advance of the line to reconnoitre, before he led his forces forth from the less exposed ground below. But ere he reached it, the sounds that he heard were sufficient to satisfy him that the highway was occupied by some party of armed men, either friends or foes. The prospect of meeting with the forces commanded by the Duke of Gueldres was little less disagreeable to him than of encountering a superior body of the enemy, and he accordingly halted his men, riding slowly along the narrow border of copse which separated the low grounds from the high road, in order to ascertain who were his immediate neighbours, and what was the direction they were taking. The trampling of horses, the jingling of armour, laughter, merriment, and oaths, announced sufficiently the presence of a military force; and the moment after, a break in the belt of wood showed him the rear of a body of horsemen passing on in a continuous but somewhat irregular line towards Tournay; while the straight crosses of cut cloth which they wore sewed upon their gambesons, at once designated them as the adherents of France in opposition to Burgundy, the partisans of which dukedom were as universally designated by the cross of St. Andrew.
The young burgher paused for several minutes; and fixing his eye upon a break some way farther down the road, watched till the spears and plumes began to pass by that aperture also, and, by means of the two, easily ascertained that the party he beheld did not amount to more than five hundred men. Though from various traces of recent strife, joined to the merriment that reigned amongst them, he judged, and judged rightly, that the French were returning to Tournay after some successful skirmish, which, he doubted not, had taken place with the Duke of Gueldres; yet, the superiority of his own numbers and his confidence in his own powers, determined him immediately to attack the enemy. This resolution was no sooner formed than executed; and although the space was narrow for the evolutions of cavalry, the road having on one side a large piece of marshy ground, and on the other a scattered wood; yet so unprepared were the French for the attack of the Gandois, and so skilfully did the young citizen employ a raw against a veteran force, that the old soldiers of Louis at once gave way before the fresh levies of Ghent; and while many a man found an ignoble death in the morass, those were the happiest who, by sharp spurring, made their way unscathed to Tournay.
A battery of small cannon, which enfiladed the part of the road that led directly to the gate, protected the fugitives in their retreat; and Albert Maurice, not fully aware of the state of the garrison, and the amount of forces it could pour forth upon his small corps, hastened to retreat from before the walls as soon as he found himself exposed to their artillery. The way seemed clear before him; yet, as he knew that the enterprise of the Duke of Gueldres was to have taken place about that time, and from the firing he had heard in the morning, doubted not it had been attempted on that very day, he could not believe that so small a party as that which he had just driven back, would have ventured forth alone against the superior force of the Gandois; and he felt sure that some larger body of French troops must still lie between him and the retreating army of the Duke of Gueldres.
Under these circumstances, and fearful of tarnishing the gloss of his success by encountering a defeat at last, he caused the country to be well reconnoitred as he advanced; and ere long, the reported appearance of a large force seen moving in the line of the high road, about a league in advance, made him resolve once more to take the paths through the wood to the east, however circuitous and inconvenient, being very well assured, from his knowledge of the country and from his acquaintance with the plans of the people of Ghent, that the line of operations of either party could not have extended far to the east of the Chemin d'Oudenarde, as the high road was called.
He accordingly at once quitted the broad causeway which led directly to Ghent, and passing across some of the wide yellow mustard fields that lay to the right, he gained, unobserved, the shelter of the scattered woods through which he had been before advancing. As he marched on, however, the appearance of some of the fearful vestiges of warfare--now a slain horse--now a long track of blood--now some piece of armour, or some offensive weapon cast away in flight--showed that a deadly strife must have passed not far from the ground over which he was marching. These tokens of battle and defeat, however, soon became less frequent; and, by care and circumspection, he was enabled to guide his forces to a safe distance from Tournay without encountering any of the bands of either party which were scattered over that part of the province. Not knowing the state of the country, and determined, whatever were the case, to force his way onward to Ghent without loss of time, he did not choose to detach any parties from his main body; but he was of course very anxious for intelligence, and it was not long before he received as much as was necessary for the purpose of determining his after proceedings. Ere he had marched half a league, several stragglers belonging to the army of Ghent joined his force; and from them he learned, that on that very morning the Duke of Gueldres had attacked and burned the suburbs of Tournay; but that in effecting his retreat, his rear-guard had been charged by a small force from the town, and had been nearly cut to pieces, notwithstanding extraordinary efforts on the part of the duke himself. That prince was reported to be dead or taken, and the rest of the army had retreated in no small confusion upon Oudenarde.
This discomfiture of the Flemish forces, and the disgrace inflicted on his country, were of course painful, as a whole, to the young citizen; but there were parts of the detail which were not so unpleasant; for his successes of course stood out in brighter light from their contrast with the failure of the larger division; and as it appeared, by the account of the fugitives, that the party which had defeated the Duke of Gueldres was the very same that he himself had in turn overthrown and driven into Tournay, the mortification would be in some degree softened to the people of Ghent, while he could not find in his heart to grieve very bitterly for their defeated commander.
The intelligence that he now received of the state of the garrison of Tournay--which it appeared was very scanty, but bold and enterprising in the extreme--made him resolve to halt for the night at the first village on the road, in order to keep the forces of that city in check, while the dispersed parties of Flemings effected their retreat. He accordingly took up his quarters at the little town of Frasne, on the edge of the wood, and immediately sent out parties to reconnoitre the country, and bring in any stragglers they might meet with. Few were found, indeed; but from their information, the young burgher was led to suppose that the great body of the forces, which had issued from Ghent two days before, had made good its retreat, without any farther loss than the discomfiture of its rear-guard. By the time these facts were fully ascertained, the evening was too far advanced to make any farther movement; and Albert Maurice, having taken measures to hold his present position in security, laid by the weighty armour with which, according to the custom of the day, he was encumbered on the march, and strolled out alone into the wood, to give way to thoughts which had long been sternly pressing for attention.
He was now returning towards Ghent, where he could not hide from himself that new scenes of intrigue, of anxiety, and of trouble, lay before him. His previous conduct in the same career had given birth to regrets which he had determined to scan and try more accurately than he ever yet had done; and from his judgment on the past, to form a firm and inflexible determination for the future. He found, too, that now was the moment when the self-examination must begin, if ever it was to be attempted; and many circumstances combined to render it less painful than it had appeared before. Previous to the expedition in which he was now engaged, the commune with his own heart had offered so little but pure bitterness, that he had avoided it with care. But his recent successes, in which was to be found no matter for self-reproach, afforded him something wherewith to balance more painful contemplations; and with a decided purpose of indulging that craving for calm reflection which had long preyed upon him, he went forth totally alone, merely saying to his attendants that he would speedily return.
Of course, it is not possible to follow the thoughts of Albert Maurice through all the tortuous and uncertain ways which the human heart pursues in its examination of itself. The result, however, was painful. He compared what he had done, now that power was given into his hands, with what he had proposed to do, when that power existed but in expectation. Not six months before he had determined, if ever circumstances should favour the exertion of his abilities in the wide arena of political strife, to dedicate all the talents and energy of his mind solely to the good of his country: to free her from oppression, to remedy the evils of her situation, to open the way for arts and civilization, to place laws and rights upon such a footing that they could never be doubted nor destroyed, and to accomplish all this by the most calm and peaceful means, without spilling one unnecessary drop of blood, without causing one eye through all the land to shed a tear.
Such had been his purpose, but what had been his conduct, and what had he become? He had appropriated to himself nearly the whole power of the state. He had obtained influence greater than his fondest expectations had held out. He had not improved one law. He had not removed one evil. He had seen, under his own authority, anarchy substituted for civil order and domestic peace. He had involved himself in the meanest wiles of faction and intrigue. He had beheld innocent blood shed by the hands of the populace. He had himself brought about the death of two noble-minded men, who, his own heart told him, were innocent of the crimes with which they were charged; and conscience thundered in his ear that they were murdered for his ambition. He could no longer look upon himself as a patriot. He knew himself to have become solely an ambitious demagogue; and he saw no means of extricating himself or his country from the state into which he had aided to immerse it, but by pursuing the same dark and intricate intrigues, the mean cunning of which he felt bitterly to be degrading to his better nature--by shedding more blood, by stirring up more discord, and by plunging deeper and deeper into the abyss of anarchy and confusion.
While such a conviction forced itself upon his mind, he almost shrunk from himself; and the small, still voice within whispered that but one way was left--to yield the hand of Mary of Burgundy to any prince whose state and situation offered the most immediate prospect of benefit and support to his country; to make price of that fair hand and the rich dowry that went with it, the full recognition of such popular rights as would put the freedom and prosperity of Flanders for ever beyond a doubt, and on his own part to resign the hopes and aspirations that had led him so far astray. But those hopes--those aspirations--had become parts of his very soul; and to require him to cast them from him, was to bid him die. As the bare idea crossed his mind of resigning Mary of Burgundy--of seeing her in the arms of another--the blood rushed up into his head with violence; and he paused abruptly on his way, resolved, if thought presented such images, to think no more. The good and the evil principle were in his heart at eternal war; calm reflection instantly gave the good full promise of victory; but the evil had but to call up the idea of Mary of Burgundy as the wife of another, to banish reflection altogether, and every better purpose along with it.
He had, by this time, advanced somewhat far into the wood, and the faint grey of the sky announced that the sun was sinking rapidly below the horizon, and warned him to return to the village. The road he had followed was a long grassy path, cut by the wheels of the wood-carts; and there was no mistaking his way back. But, as he paused, determined to think no more, since thought required such bitter sacrifices, he looked onward vacantly, ere he turned, directing with difficulty his mind towards external things, the better to withdraw it from himself. As he did so, he remarked, at the bottom of the slope, down which the path proceeded, some large white object lying amongst the long grass which fringed a little forest stream. The distance was not more than a hundred yards in advance; and attracted, he knew not very well why, he strode on almost unconsciously towards the spot. As he came nearer, the object which had caught his eye assumed the form of a horse, either dead or asleep; and to ascertain which was the case he still walked forward, till he stood close beside it, and found that it was the carcase of a splendid charger, which had dropped apparently from exhaustion and loss of blood. A rich military saddle and a poitrel, inlaid with gold, announced that the rank of the rider must have been high; while a fresh wound in the poor beast's side, and another in his thigh, seemed to show that he had been engaged in the skirmish of that morning.
Albert Maurice gazed on the horse for a moment, not exactly with indifference, but with no great interest in a sight which had been frequently before his eyes during the last two or three days. The thing that principally attracted his attention, indeed, was the costliness of the caparisons; and he looked round the little glade in which he now stood, to see if he could perceive any further traces of the horse's owner. His eye instantly rested upon a pile of splendid arms, cast heedlessly down at a short distance; and as he walked forward to examine them also, a man started up, as if from sleep, amongst the fern which there thickly clothed the forest ground, exclaiming--"Who goes there?"
A single glance sufficed to show Albert Maurice that he stood in presence of the Duke of Gueldres; and that prince almost as soon perceived whom he himself had encountered. No great love existed between them, it is true; but a natural compassion for the defeat and disappointment which the duke had that day sustained, and a conviction that that defeat, together with his own success, had removed all danger from the rivalry of the other, greatly softened the feeling of enmity in the bosom of the young citizen; and a word would have disarmed him entirely. The contrary, however, was the case with Adolphus of Gueldres, who, naturally furious and impatient, had been rendered almost insane by defeat and disgrace. He had heard, too, it would seem, of the late successes of Albert Maurice; and jealousy and envy were thus added to hatred. His words and his manner had been quick and vehement, even before he had seen who it was that roused him. But no sooner did he distinguish the features of the young citizen, than the thought of his own overthrow and of the triumph of Albert Maurice, mingled with remembrance of the opposition he had formerly met with, and the cool contempt with which he had been treated on their last meeting, all rose up in his mind; and his countenance became convulsed with passion.
"Ha!" he cried, "you here, Sir Mechanic! you here to insult and triumph over me! Or have you come to finish out what we but began in the town-hall of Ghent? Doubtless you have! Quick, then! Quick! Draw, sir, draw your sword, I say! Thank God, there is no one here, either to part us, or to see the Duke of Gueldres stain his blade with the blood of a low citizen!"
Albert Maurice himself was not, naturally, the most patient of men; and he instantly laid his hand upon his sword. But nobler feelings checked him the moment after; and he paused in the act, saying--"You had better reflect, my lord!"
Before he could add another word, however, the Duke of Gueldres struck him a blow with the pommel of his weapon, that made him reel; and the next moment their blades were crossed.
Complete master of every military exercise, powerful, active, quick-sighted and calm, Albert Maurice was far more than a match for the Duke of Gueldres, though that prince had always been reputed a stout and skilful man-at-arms. So great, indeed, did the young President feel his own superiority to be, that, had he not been heated in some degree by the blow he had received, he would, most probably, have contented himself with wounding or disarming his antagonist. But he was heated with the insult; and in four passes, the sword of the Duke of Gueldres, turned from its course, was wounding the empty air over the shoulder of Albert Maurice, while the blade of the young citizen passed direct through the chest of his adversary.
Albert Maurice recovered his weapon, and gazed for a moment on the Duke, whose mortal career he felt must be at its close. But that unhappy prince stood before him for an instant, still grasping his sword, and still apparently firm upon his feet, though a ghastly swimming of his eyes showed what a convulsive agony was moving his frame within. He made no further effort to lunge again; but he stood there by a sort of rigid effort, which sufficed for a time to keep him from falling, though that was all. The next moment the sword dropped. He reeled giddily; and then fell back with a fearful sort of sobbing in his throat.
Albert Maurice kneeled down beside him, and strove to stanch the blood (which was now flowing copiously from his wounds) in such a degree as to enable him to speak, should he have any directions to give before he died. He brought some water, also, from the brook hard by, and sprinkled his face; and the duke almost instantly opened his eyes, and gazed wildly about for a moment.
Then, as his glance met that of Albert Maurice, he exclaimed, in the same harsh and brutal tone he had before used, "You have slain me fellow! you have slain me! Out upon it, churl! you have spilt some of the best blood of the land."
"My lord," said Albert Maurice, solemnly, "you have brought it on yourself. But think not of that at this moment! You are dying. There is such a thing as another world; and, oh! repent you of your sins while you are yet in this!"
"Is it you tell me to repent?" cried the duke, faintly, "you who have shortened my time for repentance. What know you of my sins?"
"Nothing, but by report, my lord," replied the young citizen; "except, indeed, on one occasion--the fire at the pleasure-house of Lindenmar--the death of the young heir of Hannut!"
The duke groaned. "Oh! were that all," cried he, "were that all, that might soon be pardoned; for my own hands in some degree undid what my own voice commanded. But stay, stay," he added, speaking far more quickly, "stay! The old man, they say, still grieves for his child; still, perhaps, suspects me. Fly to him quick. Tell him the boy did not die in the flames of Lindenmar. Tell him, tell him that I bore him away myself. Tell him that, bad as I was, I could not resist the look of helpless infancy; that I carried him away wrapped in my mantle; and when my own boy died, bred him as mine; that I was kind to him; that I loved him, till the butchers of Duke Philip murdered him, when they cast me into prison at Namur."
A light broke at once upon the mind of the young citizen. "Good God!" he cried, "he is not dead. He lives, my lord, he lives! He escaped, found refuge with his own father; ay, and was instrumental in procuring your liberation from prison. He lives--indeed, he lives!"
The eyes of the Duke of Gueldres fixed upon him as he spoke, with an intense and half-doubting gaze. But as the young burgher repeated earnestly, "He lives!" the dying man, by a great effort, half raised himself from the ground, clasped his hands together, and exclaimed, "Thank God!" They were the last words he ever spoke; for almost as he uttered them, he closed his eyes, as if a faint sickness had come over him, fell back upon the turf with a convulsive shudder; and in a few moments Adolphus of Gueldres was no more.
Albert Maurice gazed upon him with a feeling of painful interest. He had slain him, it is true, under circumstances which he believed to justify the deed. But no one, that is not in heart a butcher, can, under any circumstances, take life hand to hand, without feeling that a shadow has settled over existence. There is always something to be remembered, always something that can never be forgotten. In the case of the young citizen, too, the cloud was of a deeper shade; for he felt that in the death of the Duke of Gueldres, however justified by the immediate provocation, he had taken another life in that course of ambition, in which he foresaw that many more must fall.
Thus in gloomy bitterness, he took his way back to the village, and, without any explanation, gave orders that the dead body should be brought in with honour. The soldiers concluded that both horse and man had died by the hands of the enemy; and Albert Maurice, in quitting his quarters the next morning, gave strict directions that the remains of the deceased prince should be immediately sent after him to Ghent.
After his departure, however, before a bier could be got ready, and all the necessary preparations entered into, a party from the town of Tournay swept the little village of Frasne; and the body of the Duke, being found there, was carried away by the French. Due honours were shown to the corpse by the people of Tournay; and many writers of that age attribute the death of Adolphus, the bad Duke of Gueldres, to the successful sortie of the garrison of that city.