A day intervened: but at noon on that which followed, an immense,
dense crowd was assembled in the open space before the town-house of
Ghent. Nevertheless, though the multitude was perhaps greater than
ever the Square of St. Pharaïlde had contained before, there was a
stillness about it all, which spoke that men were anticipating some
great event. Each one who spoke addressed his neighbour in that low
tone which argues awe: but by far the greater part of the people
remained perfectly silent, with their eyes turned towards the
town-house, immediately in front of which stood a scaffold, hung with
black cloth, supporting two low blocks of wood, and surrounded by a
large party of the burgher guard. A still larger body of the same
troops kept the space between the scaffold and the public building
before which it was placed; and, in all, the armed force present
seemed more than sufficient to keep order and overawe the
evil-disposed. In fact, the regular municipal power had been increased
to an extraordinary degree during the last fortnight, both by an
extended levy amongst the citizens themselves, and by the raising of a
number of extraordinary companies from amongst the peasantry of the
neighbouring districts, joined to all such disbanded soldiers as were
willing to enrol themselves under the banners of the commune. The
trained force thus at the disposal of the town-council of Ghent
amounted to at least seven thousand men, and, on the morning of which
we speak, a great part of this body were drawn up between the
town-house and the scaffold, and in the main court of the building.
At the same time, it is to be remarked, that almost all the burghers,
and a number of the peasantry of the country round about, had provided
themselves with warlike weapons, since the first disturbances which
followed the death of the duke; so that the multitude which thronged
the space before the town-house appeared universally in arms. The
principal weapons with which they had furnished themselves were long
pikes; and any one gazing over the market-place might have fancied it
crowded by an immense body of dismounted lancers; but, at the same
time, a number of the more wealthy were provided with swords also; and
one or two appeared more in the guise of regular men-at-arms than
simple citizens.
It was remarked that amidst the assembly were a number of persons with
somewhat hard features and weather-beaten countenances, habited in the
ordinary dress of peasants, but in general better armed than the rest
of the people. These men seemed to have but few acquaintances in the
town, but wherever any two of them met, they appeared instantly to
recognise each other; and, by a quiet, unobtrusive, but steady
movement forward, they gradually made their way one by one through the
crowd, to the immediate vicinity of the scaffold. Another
circumstance, also, was noticed by those persons in the crowd who
employed all their vacant moments in looking about them, which was,
that, close to the head of one of the bands of the burgher guard, and
conversing from time to time with the officer who commanded it,
appeared a young man of a powerful and active form, dressed as a
common man-at-arms, with the beaver of his helmet, at what was called
the half-spring; in short, so far open as to give him plenty of air,
yet not sufficiently thrown up to expose his face.
In those days, it must be remembered that the appearance of men in
armour had nothing extraordinary in it, either in the country or the
town, and consequently such a sight was not at all uncommon in the
streets of Ghent at any time; but it had become far more so since the
burghers had assumed the authority they now claimed, as not a few of
the rich young merchants, every now and then, chose to ape the nobles,
whom they were desirous of overthrowing; and would appear in the
streets, clothed, like the ghost of Hamlet's father, in complete
steel.
Whether the captain of the band to whom the stranger addressed
himself, was or was not previously acquainted with the man-at-arms, he
seemed well pleased with his company, which certainly somewhat tended
to relieve the irksome anticipation of a disagreeable duty. Their
conversation, however, soon appeared to turn upon more important
matters; and they spoke quick and eagerly, though in so low a tone,
that only a few words of what they said reached the bystanders.
"I wish them no ill, poor wretches, God knows," the captain of the
band was heard to say, in reply to something the other had whispered
the moment before. Two or three indistinct sentences succeeded; and
then, he again answered, "If any one would begin, I would follow! we
have as good a right to a say in the matter as any one else."
Again the man-at-arms spoke with him rapidly; and the other rejoined
in a low and hurried tone--"Stay! I will see what the men say! Stand
back, sir!" he added, pushing back, angrily, one of the crowd, who
intruded upon the open space, and came within earshot. He then walked
leisurely along the file of men that he commanded, speaking a few
words, now to one, now to another; and then, turning back with an air
of assumed indifference, he said to the person with whom he had before
been speaking, "It will do! They do not want any more blood spilt.
They are all murmuring, to a man. Go and talk with the captain on the
other side."
While this was passing in the immediate vicinity of the scaffold,
several of the persons I have described as looking like weather-beaten
peasants, had, in making their way through the crowd, paused to speak
with a number of the citizens; at first asking some questions in
regard to the multitude, and the dark preparations before the
town-house, as if ignorant of what had lately taken place in the city.
They then generally proceeded to comment on the reply made to them;
and then something was always said about the shame and horror of
staining their market-place with public executions for state crimes
which the events of a few weeks might render no crimes at all.
Thus, one of them demanded of a fat burgher, by whom he passed, "Why,
what is the matter, neighbour? This looks as if they were going to cut
off some one's head."
"And so they are, to be sure," replied the citizen. "They are going to
do execution upon the Lord of Imbercourt, and Hugonet the Chancellor,
who were condemned this morning for treating with France and receiving
bribes."
"Ay, did they receive bribes?" rejoined the peasant: "that is strange
enough; for I always thought that they were as free and liberal of
their gold to those who needed it, as any men living, and coveted
nothing belonging to another; and those are not the sort of men, I
have heard say, who usually receive bribes."
"Ay, that is true enough, indeed!" answered the citizen, with a sigh.
"But did they really receive bribes?" persevered the peasant. "Was it
clearly proved?"
"No, no, I believe not," replied the citizen. "Proof they could not
get--proof they could not get; but there was strong suspicion."
"'Tis hard a man should die for mere suspicion, though; for who would
be safe if that were law?" said the other. "If I had been one of them,
I would have appealed to the King of France and court of peers."
"Why, so they both did," replied the citizen; "but they are to die for
all that."
"Then I would not be a citizen of Ghent for ten thousand crowns,"
answered the peasant; "for, by the Lord! Louis and his peers will be
like to hang every one of them that he catches; and it is a sad thing
to be hanged for spilling innocent blood. Were I one of the citizens
of Ghent, they should never stain the market-place in such a way while
I had a voice to raise against it."
"Ay, ay, it is very sad!" said the citizen: "and I dare say if any one
would begin, many a man would cry out against it too."
"Well, well," answered the other, "I must forward, and see what is
going on; and I hope some one _will_ cry out against it."
Thus speaking, the peasant, as he seemed to be, pushed his way on for
a little distance, and then, pausing by another of the citizens, held
with him a short conversation, like that which we have just narrated,
asking very nearly the same questions, and making very nearly the same
observations on the answers he received.
The instance which has just been particularized was only one out of
many; for in every part of the crowd were to be seen persons similar
in appearance to the man whose conversation we have just detailed, and
who acted precisely upon the same plan, though the words they made use
of might be slightly different. The man-at-arms who, as we have
mentioned, had been talking with the captain of one of the city bands,
in accordance with the intimation he had received, was, in the
meantime, making his way round to speak with the person who commanded
the company at the other side of the scaffold. As, in his apparent
military capacity, he strode boldly across the space kept clear in
front of the scaffold, and consequently encountered none of the
impediments which might have delayed him, had he attempted to proceed
through the crowd, he would, probably, soon have accomplished this
purpose; but at that moment a considerable noise and disturbance was
heard in the direction of the town-house, mingled with shouts of "They
are coming! They are coming!"
The ear of the man-at-arms immediately caught the sound. He paused
for a single instant; and then taking a step back to a spot whence he
could descry the intermediate space between the scaffold and the
town-house, he saw a body of people moving from the principal entrance
of that edifice, through a double line of the burgher guard. The
procession consisted of a number of the municipal council, a body of
various officers of state, Maillotin du Bac the Prevot marechal, two
executioners with naked axes, and the unfortunate nobles Imbercourt
and Hugonet, bound and bare-headed.
The man-at-arms instantly perceived that he would not have time to
accomplish what he proposed; and with three strides he placed himself
once more by the side of the officer with whom he had before been
speaking. Gathered at the same point were, by this time, at least a
hundred and fifty of the peasant-looking men whom we have before
described; and, forcing their way through the crowd in every
direction, with no longer any affectation of ceremony, or regard to
the convenience of those they thrust out of their way, there appeared
a number of others perfectly similar in appearance. The eyes of the
whole of this distinct body were evidently turned upon the
man-at-arms; and it was observed that the one who stood nearest to him
held something enveloped in the flap of his coarse brown coat, as if
to be given at a moment's notice.
"Now," said the man-at-arms, addressing the captain of the burgher
guard, "do your duty as a brave man, as a good citizen, and more, as a
good Christian, and you shall have plenty of support."
"But who are you?" demanded the captain of the guard, eyeing him
eagerly; "who are you, who so boldly promise support in such a case as
this?"
"I am the Vert Gallant of Hannut," replied the man-at-arms; and at the
same moment, stretching back his hand to the peasant behind him, he
received a broad green scarf and plume, the one of which he fastened
instantly in his casque, and waved the other, for a moment, high in
the air before he threw it over his shoulder.
The signal had an instantaneous effect. The brown coarse coats of the
peasants were thrown off, and they appeared armed in steel corslets
and brassards, while the distinctive marks of the well-known Green
Riders of Hannut were seen boldly displayed in the midst of the
streets of Ghent. Although where each of these men was making his way
onward, and at the point where so many had already congregated, this
sudden change occasioned a considerable sensation; yet the great body
of the crowd was agitated by so many different feelings, and the
tumult was at that moment so great, that the transaction did not
attract general attention. Almost every one throughout the multitude
was, indeed, moved by sensations of his own; and each nearly at once
gave voice to those feelings, as his eye happened to catch different
points in the scene that was passing in the square.
"They are coming! they are coming!" shouted some. "Where? Where?"
exclaimed others. "Who the devil are these?" cried those who saw the
green riders. "Death to the enemies of Ghent!" vociferated the fierce.
"Poor wretches! will no mercy be shown to them!" said the pitiful.
"What a large axe! How pale they look! Who are those behind?" cried
others of the crowd.
In the meanwhile the mournful procession came on. The new eschevins of
Ghent, elected by the people themselves, mounted the scaffold, and
ranged themselves around, to see the sentence they had lately
pronounced carried into execution. The two executioners took their
places by the blocks, and leaned the axes which they bore against
them, while they made themselves ready to go through the preparatory
part of their sad function. The condemned nobles followed after; and
several members of the municipal council--but Albert Maurice was not
amongst them--closed the whole, and occupied the only vacant space
left at the back of the scaffold. At the same moment a gentleman in
splendid arms, half concealed under a surcoat of costly embroidery,
followed by a number of richly-dressed attendants, forced his way
rudely through the crowd, and thrust himself close to the foot of the
scaffold, on the opposite side to that where the Vert Gallant had
placed himself. He then crossed his arms upon his broad, bull-like
chest, and stood gazing upon the awful scene that was proceeding
above, with a look of ruthless satisfaction.
The Lord of Imbercourt at once advanced to the front of the scaffold,
and gazed round upon the multitude before him. He was very pale, it is
true; but his step was as firm as when he strode the council-chamber
in the height of his power: and not a quiver of the lip, not a twinkle
of the eyelid, betrayed that there was such a thing as fear at his
heart.
"Must I die with my hands tied, like a common felon?" he said,
addressing the executioner.
"Not if your lordship is prepared to die without offering resistance,"
replied the other.
"I am prepared, sir," answered Imbercourt, "to die as I have lived,
calmly, honestly, fearlessly."
The executioner began to untie his hands; and the Vert Gallant, giving
one glance round the crowd, apparently to ascertain the proximity of
his followers, drew forward his sword-belt, and loosened the weapon in
the sheath. Imbercourt, at the same time, was advancing as far as
possible, as if to address the people, and the whole multitude, seeing
it, kept a profound silence; when suddenly, in the midst of the still
hush--just as the Vert Gallant of Hannut was passing round the head of
the file of burgher guards, till he was within a few steps of the
scaffold itself--a sweet and plaintive voice, which would have been
inaudible under any other circumstances, was heard from amongst the
crowd exclaiming, "Oh, let me pass! for God's sake, let me pass! They
are murdering my faithful servants. Let me pass; in pity, in mercy let
me pass!"
"It is the princess! it is the princess!" cried a number of voices:
"let her pass! let her pass!" and, by an involuntary movement of
feeling and compassion, the people drew hastily back on either side,
and Mary of Burgundy, in the deep mourning of an orphan, with her
bright hair escaped from her veil, and flowing wide over her
shoulders, her face deluged in tears, and her hands clasped in agony,
rushed forward into the open space, and, casting herself upon her
knees before the people of Ghent, exclaimed aloud the only words she
could utter, "Oh, spare them--spare them!"[9]
"Yes, yes," cried an honest burgher from the crowd, "we will spare
them. Out upon it! has not the prince always had power to show mercy?
Hark ye, neighbours, pikes and swords for Martin Fruse! On upon the
scaffold! We will save them!"
"Back, false citizen; back!" cried the cavalier in the glittering
dress we have described. "What, would you interrupt the course of
justice! By the sun in heaven, they shall die the death!" and, drawing
his sword, he threw himself between the people and the scaffold.
All was now tumult and confusion; and in one instant it seemed us if a
general spirit of civil strife had seized upon every part of the
multitude. Some shouted, "Mercy for them! mercy for them!" Some,
"Justice! justice! slay the traitors!" Pikes were crossed, and swords
were drawn on all sides. The burgher guards were as divided as the
people. Mary of Burgundy was borne fainting behind the scaffold; and
those upon the scaffold itself seemed paralysed by surprise and fear.
But the green scarfs and burgonets of the Riders of Hannut were seen
forcing their way forward through the press, in spite of all
opposition; and at the same moment the thundering voice of the Vert
Gallant was heard rising above everything else: "On, on to the
scaffold, friends of mercy!" he cried. "Lord of Imbercourt, cast
yourself over, you are amongst friends!"
Imbercourt might have done so; but he was instantly seized by
Maillotin du Bac, and one of the executioners, who unhappily awoke
from their first consternation in time to prevent him from seizing the
opportunity which was unexpectedly presented to him.
The Vert Gallant, however, pushed forward, sword in hand. All gave
way, or went down before him; the pikes opposed to his breast shivered
like withered boughs beneath his arm; and he was within a yard of the
spot where Imbercourt stood, when he was encountered, hand to hand, by
the cavalier we have before mentioned; and each found that he had met
an enemy very different from the burghers by whom they were
surrounded. Each was powerful and skilful; but the Vert Gallant had,
by more than twenty years, the advantage of his adversary; and feeling
that the fate of Imbercourt must be decided in the twinkling of an
eye--for the guards and executioners were forcing him down to the
block--he showered his blows upon his adversary with a thundering
rapidity that in a moment brought him upon his knees. He was still,
however, between the young cavalier and the scaffold; and, fierce with
the eagerness of the encounter, Hugh of Gueldres drew back his arm, to
plunge the point of his sword into the throat of his opponent, when
the voice of one of the cavalier's attendants exclaimed aloud, "Save
the duke! For God's sake, save the Duke of Gueldres! Forbear!
forbear!"
The Vert Gallant paused, gazing upon his prostrate enemy, with
feelings that can be understood, when it is remembered that it was his
own father, who, beaten down by his superior strength, lay within an
inch of his sword's point, raised for the purpose of terminating their
struggle by a parent's death. His eyes grew dim, his brain reeled, the
sword dropped from his hand, and he fell back upon the pavement,
without power or consciousness.
At the same moment, the axe of the executioner swung high in the air;
there was a dull, heavy blow, a rush of dark blood poured over the
scaffold, and the Lord of Imbercourt was no more.