Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

by G. P. R. James

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!"