When the enemy had been so far discomfited the women came back into
the square and stood before the prefecture, not feeling any glory,
but rather sadness at having had to shed Christian blood in this
manner. Ah, they returned thanks with a full heart to Our Lady the
Virgin and Our Lord Jesus, who had given them the victory.
Nor did they forget in their thanksgiving the good angel who had come
to their assistance in the form of a bright star. And they sang fair
hymns and litanies very sweetly.
Meanwhile all the cocks in the countryside awoke one by one and
heralded with their clarions the new day about to dawn.
And at that call, all the drinkers were roused from sleep, and ran
to their doors to find out whence came this sweet music.
And my lord the Sun laughed in the sky.
And the worthy men came out into the square, and some of them, when
they saw their wives in the assembly, were all for beating them
because they had left their beds; but Andre Bredael interposed and
told them the whole story. Thereupon they were all amazed, ashamed,
and repentant, seeing how well these brave petticoats had striven on
their behalf. Pieter Gans, Blaeskaek, and Father Claessens, Dean of
Uccle, a most saintly man, also came out into the square.
Thereupon, seeing all this crowd assembled, Master Bredael spoke thus:
"Friends," said he, "you hear how that 'tis through the valour of
your wives and daughters alone that you are not by this time sniffing
the air of heaven. Therefore 'tis seemly that here and now you should
promise, and take oath to it, not to drink any more except by their
wish."
"That is all very well, Master Bredael," said one of the townsmen,
"but 'tis not plain drinking that puts us all into so deep a sleep. I
speak of these things with knowledge, I who have drunk wine freely
all my life, and hope still so to do with relish to the end of my
days. There is something else to it, devilry and evil spells, or so I
think. Come hither, Pieter Gans, come hither and talk to us somewhat,
and if thou know anything, bring light to this dark matter."
"Alas, alas!" said Pieter Gans, his head wagging and his teeth
chattering (for he was afraid, poor fellow), "alas, alas! I know
nothing, my good friends."
"Nay," said the man, "but thou dost know something of it, for I see
thy head shaking and thy teeth chattering."
But at this point the Dean confronted Gans:
"Wicked Christian," said he, "I can see well enough thou hast had
commerce with the devil, to the great despite of all these good
men. Confess thy sin with all humility, and we will accord thee such
grace as may be, but if thou deny it, thou shalt be punished with
hot oil."
"Ah," said Pieter Gans in tears, "'tis as I said; I shall be burnt,
dear God! Blaeskaek, where art thou, my good friend? Give me thy
help. Alas, alas!"
But Blaeskaek had gone off in a hurry from fear of the holy Fathers.
"Ah," said Pieter Gans, "see how the traitor deserts me when danger
threatens!"
"Speak," said the very reverend Father.
"Yes, Master Dean," said Pieter Gans, weeping and wailing, "I will tell
you the whole story, without keeping back anything.... Master!" he
cried when he had come to the end of his recital, "if you will not
punish me too heavily, Master, I will give all my poor savings as a
perpetual gift to the Church. I am a true Christian, that I vow, and
no heretic. Moreover, I wish not to die until I have had sufficient
time to do long and full penance. But have me not boiled in oil before
I have had that time, I beg of you."
"As to that," answered the Dean, "we shall see. Now take us to the
place where this devil is to be seen."
By that time they were close to the church, and the priest went in to
get therefrom some holy water before they started. Then all the men,
women, and children of the village took their way to The Horn.
There the Dean demanded to see what had been the cause of those wicked
spells which had been cast over so many worthy men, and Pieter Gans,
with all humility, showed him the deviling, still smiling and holding
his staff of vine-branches in his hand. And all the women, after
looking at him for some time, said that he was very comely for a devil.
The priest first crossed himself, then, dipping his fingers in the
holy water, anointed therewith the brow, breast, and belly of the
statue, which thereupon, by the grace of God, crumbled into dust,
and a sorrowful voice was heard saying: "Oi moi, o phos, tethneka!"
And these words of the devil were explained by the priest to signify,
in the Greek tongue: "Woe is me! Light! I die!"
XIII. Of the great wonder and astonishment of My Lord the Duke when
he heard of the valour of the women of Uccle.
In the meantime the village sent to the Duke two trusty men, with a
message to that high prince informing him in due order all that had
occurred. These men met him already on his way to Uccle, for he had
learnt by his runners the Irontooth's design, and knowing full well
where he would find him was coming against him at all speed with a
strong force of horsemen.
As soon as the messengers saw who it was coming along the road they
went down on their knees, but the good Duke would have none of this,
and made them rise and walk at his stirrup.
Before they had gone far they reached the scene of the brigands'
discomfiture. At the sight of all those heaped-up bodies the Duke
halted, greatly astonished and no less pleased. "And who," quoth he,
"has slain all these scoundrels in this wise?"
"Our womenfolk," said one of the messengers.
"What is this thou'rt telling me?" said the Duke with a frown.
"Before God, My Lord," said the man, "I will tell you the whole story."
And so he did.
"Well," said the Duke when he had done, "who would have thought it
of these good wives? I will reward them well for it."
So saying he caused the casque of the Irontooth to be taken up and
carried away. This casque was to be seen for many years in the armoury
of My Lord Charles, who had it guarded with the utmost care.
XIV. In what manner was instituted the Order of the Women-Archers
of Uccle and of the fine reward which My Lord gave to the brave
maid Wantje.
On entering Uccle the good Duke saw coming towards him a large body of
people, and in their midst a man crying out in a most piteous voice:
"Master! Master Priest! let me not be boiled!" To which the answer was:
"We shall see."
"Whence comes all this noise?" said the Duke.
But as soon as Pieter Gans saw who it was he ran towards him and threw
his arms round his horse's legs. "My Lord," he cried, "My Lord Duke,
let me not be boiled!"
"And why," said the Duke, "should they boil one of my good men
of Uccle?"
But the very reverend Father Claessens, stepping forward, told him
the whole story with great indignation, while Pieter Gans continued to
blubber alongside in a most melancholy fashion. And thereon followed
such confusion, with the one weeping and groaning, the other denouncing
and syllogizing, and each so vehemently, that the good Duke could
not tell which to listen to.
Suddenly Wantje came forward out of the press, and, like Pieter Gans,
cried: "Mercy and pity!"
"My Lord," said the maid, "this man has sinned greatly against God,
but only from simpleness of mind and a natural cowardice. The devil
frightened him; he submitted to the devil. Pardon him, My Lord,
for our sakes."
"Maid," said the Duke, "that was well spoken, and 'tis to thee I
will hearken."
But the very reverend Father: "My Lord," said he, "forgets to think
of God."
"Father," said the Duke, "I am not forgetful of that duty. Nevertheless
I think he takes little pleasure in watching Christian fat smoke or
a good man's flesh boil, but likes rather to see men gentle and kind,
and not giving their fellows penance to do. And on this day when Our
Lady the Virgin has deigned to perform a miracle for our sakes I will
not sadden her mother's heart by the death of a Christian. Therefore
none of the accused, neither this Pieter Gans nor any other there
may be, shall this time go to the stake."
On hearing this Pieter Gans burst out laughing like a madman, and
began to dance and sing, crying out the while: "Praise to My Lord! I
am not to be boiled. Brabant to the Good Duke!" And all the townsfolk
called out after him: "Praise to My Lord!"
Then the Duke bade them be silent, and smiling:
"Well, dames," said he, "who have this night done man's work so
valiantly, come hither that I may give you a man's reward. First
of all, to the bravest one among you I give this great chain of
gold. Which is she?"
The good women pushed Wantje forward before the Duke.
"Ah," said he, "'tis thee, sweet pleader. Wilt kiss me, though I
be old?"
"Yes, My Lord," said the maid. And so she did, notwithstanding that
she was a little shamefaced over it.
And the good Duke, having hung the chain round her neck, spoke further
in this wise:
"As for you all, good dames, who have this night so gallantly carried
arms, I institute among you a most honourable Order, under the
protection of Madam Mary the Virgin, and I direct that there shall be
set up in this place a staff of a good length, and that each Sunday
you shall come together here and draw the bow in archery, in memory of
the time when with those bows you saved the lives of your husbands and
children. And there shall be a fair crown of laurel and a fair purseful
of golden peters, bright and new, to be awarded annually to the best
archer of the year, and brought to her on a cushion by all the others
together. And this purse will dower her if she be a maid, or, if she
be a wife, will stand her in good stead against a time of famine."
In this manner was instituted the Order of Women-Archers of Uccle,
who still draw the bow like men every Sunday, under the protection
of Our Lady the Virgin.