The Young Flemish Lady.--The Sainte-Aldegonde Family.--The Sage of the
Sepulchres.
Just at the time of the conquest of Tournai, a most amusing thing
occurred, which deserves to be chronicled. Another episode may be
recorded also, of a gloomier nature.
Directly Tournai had surrendered, and the new outposts were occupied, the
King wished to make his entry into this important town, which he had long
desired to see. The people and the burghers, although mute and silent,
willingly watched the French army and its King march past, but the
aristocracy scarcely showed themselves at any of the windows, and the few
folk who appeared here and there on the balconies abstained from
applauding the King.
Splendidly apparelled, and riding the loveliest of milk-white steeds, his
Majesty proceeded upon his triumphant way, surrounded by the flower of
French nobility, and scattering money as he went.
Before the Town Hall the procession stopped, when the magistrates
delivered an address, and gave up to his Majesty the keys of the city in
a large enamelled bowl.
When the King, looking calmly contented, was about to reply, he observed
a woman who had pushed her way through the French guardsmen, and staring
hard at him, appeared anxious to get close up to him. In fact, she
advanced a step or two, and the epithet that crossed her lips struck the
conqueror as being coarsely offensive.
"Arrest that woman," cried the King. She was instantly seized and
brought before him.
"Why do you insult me thus?" he asked quickly, but with dignity.
"I have not insulted you," replied the Flemish lady. "The word that
escaped me was rather a term of flattery and of praise, at least if it
has the meaning which it conveys to us here, in these semi-French parts."
"Say that word again," added the King; "for I want everybody to bear
witness that I am just in punishing you for such an insult."
"Sire," answered this young woman, "your soldiers have destroyed my
pasture-lands, my woods, and my crops. Heart-broken, I came here to
curse you, but your appearance at once made me change my mind. On
looking closer at you, in spite of my grief, I could not help exclaiming,
'So that's the handsome b-----, is it!'"
The grenadiers, being called as witnesses, declared that such was in fact
her remark. Then the King smiled, and said to the young Flemish lady:
"Who are you? What is your name?"
With readiness and dignity she replied, "Sire, you see before you the
Comtesse de Sainte-Aldegonde."
"Pray, madame," quoth the King, "be so good as to finish your toilet; I
invite you to dine with me to-day."
Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde accepted the honour, and did in fact dine with
his Majesty that day. She was clever, and made herself most agreeable,
so that the King, whose policy it was to win hearts by all concessions
possible, indemnified her for all losses sustained during the war,
besides granting favours to all her relatives and friends.
The Sainte-Aldegonde family appeared at Court, being linked thereto by
good services. It is already a training-ground for excellent officers
and persons of merit.
But for that somewhat neat remark of the Countess's, all those gentlemen
would have remained in poverty and obscurity within the walls or in the
suburbs of Tournai.
Some days after this, the King was informed of the arrest of a most
dangerous individual, who had been caught digging below certain ancient
aqueducts "with a view to preparing a mine of some sort." This person
was brought in, tied and bound like a criminal; they hustled him and
maltreated him. I noticed how he trembled and shed tears.
He was a learned man--an antiquary. A few days before our invasion he
had commenced certain excavations, which he had been forced to
discontinue, and now so great was his impatience that he had been obliged
to go on in spite of the surrounding troops. By means of an old
manuscript, long kept by the Druids, as also by monks, this man had been
able to discover traces of an old Roman highroad, and as in the days of
the Romans the tombs of the rich and the great were always placed
alongside these broad roads, our good antiquary had been making certain
researches there, which for him had proved to be a veritable gold-mine.
Having made confession of all this to the King, his Majesty set him free,
granting him, moreover, complete liberty as regarded the execution of his
enterprise.
A few days afterwards he begged to have the honour of presenting to his
Majesty some of the objects which he had collected during his researches.
I was present, and the following are the funereal curiosities which he
showed us:
Having broken open a tomb, he had extracted therefrom a large alabaster
vase, which still contained the ashes of the deceased. Next this urn,
carefully sealed up, there was another vase, containing three gold rings
adorned with precious stones, two gold spurs, the bit of a battle-horse,
very slightly rusted, and chased with silver and gold, a sort of seal
with rough coat-of-arms, a necklace of large and very choice pearls, a
stylet or pencil for calligraphy, and a hundred gold and silver coins
bearing the effigy of Domitian, a very wicked emperor, who reigned over
Rome and over Gaul in those days.
When the King had amused himself with examining these trinkets, he turned
to the antiquary and said, "Is that all, sir? Why, where is Charon's
flask of wine?"
"Here, your Majesty," replied the old man, producing a small flask. "See,
the wine has become quite clear."
With great difficulty the flask was opened; the wine it contained was
pale and odourless, but by those bold enough to taste it, was pronounced
delicious.
When overturning the urn in order to empty out the ashes and bury them,
they noticed an inscription, which the King instantly translated. It ran
thus:
"May the gods who guard tombs punish him who breaks open this mausoleum.
The troubles and misfortunes of Aurelius Silvius have been cruel enough
during his lifetime; in this tomb at least let him have peace."
The worthy antiquary offered me his pearl necklace and one of the antique
rings, but I refused these with a look of horror. He sold the coins to
the King, and informed us that his various excavations and researches had
brought him in about one hundred thousand livres up to the present time.
The King said to him playfully, "Mind what you are about, monsieur; that
sentence which I translated for you is not of a very, reassuring nature."
"Yet it will not serve to hinder me in my scientific researches," replied
the savant. "Charon, who by now must be quite a rich man, evidently
disdains all such petty hidden treasures as these. To me they are most
useful."
Next time we passed through Tournai, I made inquiries as to this miser,
and afterwards informed the King. It appears that he was surprised by
robbers when despoiling one of these tombs. After robbing him of all
that he possessed, they buried him alive in the very, grave where he was
digging, so as to save expense. What a dismal sort of science! What a
life, and what a death!