"Where are you going now?" said Lamme.
"To Maestricht," answered Ulenspiegel.
"But stay, my son. I have heard that the army of the Duke is camped
all round the city and that he himself is within. Our passports
will be of no use to us there. Even if they satisfy the Spanish
soldiers, we shall still be arrested in the city and put through an
examination. And in the meantime they will become aware of the death
of the evangelists and our days on this earth will be numbered."
To this Ulenspiegel made answer:
"The crows and the owls and the vultures will make short work of their
repast. Already no doubt the dead bodies have become unrecognizable. As
for our passports, there is no reason why they should not remain
effective. But if the murder of the evangelists becomes known we
should be arrested as you say. Nevertheless, whatever happens we
shall have to go to Maestricht and pass through Landen on the way."
"We shall be captured," said Lamme.
"We shall get through," answered Ulenspiegel.
Conversing in this wise they came to the inn of La Pie, where they
found a good supper awaiting them, and good quarters for the night,
both for themselves and for the donkeys; and on the morrow they took
the road again for Landen.
Not far from that town they came to a large farm. There Ulenspiegel
whistled like a lark, and from the interior came the sound of a warlike
cockcrow in answer. After that a jolly-looking farmer appeared at the
door of the farmhouse, and greeted them as friends and good Beggarmen,
and bade them welcome.
"Who is this man?" Lamme inquired.
"His name is Thomas Utenhove," said Ulenspiegel, "and he is a valiant
Protestant. The man-servants and maid-servants that work on the farm
are fellows with him in the cause of freedom of conscience."
Then Utenhove said:
"You are the envoys of the Prince? Come in then, eat and drink
with me."
And the ham was crackling in the frying-pan, the sausages likewise,
and the wine flowed and the glasses were filled again. And Lamme drank
like dry sand, and ate his fill. And the boys and girls of the farm
came one after another and thrust their noses into the half-open door
to gaze on him as he worked away so hard. But the men were jealous,
saying that they also would be able to eat and drink as bravely if
they had the chance.
When all was finished, Thomas Utenhove said:
"One hundred of our peasants will be leaving us this week under pretext
of going to work on the dikes at Bruges and thereabouts. They will
be setting out in small bands of five or six at a time, and all by
different routes. At Bruges they will find certain barges waiting
for them to take them by sea to Emden."
"Will these men be provided with arms and with money?" inquired
Ulenspiegel.
"Each man will carry ten florins and a heavy cutlass."
"God and the Prince will reward you," said Ulenspiegel.
"But tell me," said the farmer, "is Edzard, Count of Frise, still
friendly to the Prince?"
"He feigns not to be," answered Ulenspiegel. "Nevertheless, he is
giving harbourage all the time to the Prince's ships at Emden."
And then he added: "We are on the way to Maestricht."
"You cannot go there," said the farmer. "The Duke's army is camped
in front of the town and all round it."
With that he conducted his visitors up into the loft, whence they
could see the standards of enemy cavalry and infantry moving about
in the distance over the plain.
Ulenspiegel said:
"I have a plan to get through, if only they who have authority in this
place would give me leave to get married. But for wife I should need
a sweet and a gentle and comely lass who would be willing to marry
me--if not for always, then for a week at least."
Lamme gasped with astonishment.
"Don't do it, my son," he cried. "She will only leave you, and then,
all alone, you will burn with the fire of love; and the bed where
now you sleep so sweetly will seem to you nothing better than a bed
of prickly holly leaves, and gentle sleep will shun you for evermore."
"Still I must marry," replied Ulenspiegel. And then to Thomas Utenhove:
"Come now, find me a wife; rich or poor, I don't care which! And I
will take her to church, and our marriage shall be blessed by the
priest. And he shall give us our marriage lines. Though, to be sure,
we shall not hold them valid as being given by the hand of a Papist and
an Inquisitor. Nevertheless they will be good enough for our purpose,
and we will prepare ourselves, as is the custom, for our wedding trip."
"But what about the wife?"
"That's your look-out," answered Ulenspiegel. "But when you have found
her I shall take two wagons and decorate them with wreaths of fir
branches and holly and paper flowers, and in the wagons themselves
I shall dispose the men whom you wish to be conveyed to the Prince
of Orange."
"But your wife?" persisted Thomas Utenhove. "Where will you find her?"
"Here, I doubt not," answered Ulenspiegel. "And then I shall harness
two of your own horses to one of the wagons, and our two donkeys to the
other. In the first wagon will ride my wife and myself, together with
my friend Lamme here, and the witnesses of our nuptials. In the second
wagon will follow the musicians, the players upon the drum, the fife,
and the shawm. And then, with all our joyous wedding-flags a-flying,
and with music playing, and we ourselves singing and drinking each
other's healths, we shall ride along at the trot by the high road
that leads to the Galgen-veld--the Field of the Gallows--which for
us indeed will be the Field of Liberty."
"I will do all in my power to help you," said Thomas Utenhove,
"but the women and girls will want to follow their men-folk."
"We will go where God wills," said a pretty-looking girl who had
thrust in her head at the half-opened door.
"You can have four wagons if need be," said Thomas Utenhove, "and by
that means we should be able to convey as many as five-and-twenty men."
"The Duke will be nicely fooled," said Ulenspiegel.
"And the Prince's fleet will gain the service of some fine soldiers,"
added Thomas Utenhove.
Then he caused a bell to be rung to summon his footman and his
servants, and when they were all assembled he said to them:
"All you that are from the land of Zeeland, women as well as men,
listen now to me. Ulenspiegel, who is hither come from Flanders,
has a plan to convey you through the enemy's lines, disguised as the
followers in a wedding procession."
And thereat the men and women of Zeeland cried out with one accord:
"We are ready, even unto the death!"
And the men said one to another:
"What joy it will be to exchange this land of slavery for the freedom
of the sea!"
And the women and girls said likewise:
"Let us follow our husbands and our lovers; we belong to Zeeland and
there we shall find asile!"
Now Ulenspiegel had noticed a young and pretty maid, and he addressed
her jokingly:
"I would you were my wife!"
But she blushed and answered him:
"I would have thee for my husband--but at the church only, remember!"
The women laughed and said among themselves:
"She is in love with Hans Utenhove, the master's son. He will go
along with her, doubtless."
"You say truly," Hans replied.
And his father said:
"You have my permission."
Then all the men put on their best clothes, their doublets and hose
of velvet, and the great opperst-kleed over all. As for the women,
they wore black petticoats and pleated shoes. Round their necks they
wore a white ruff, their bodices were embroidered in gold, scarlet,
and blue; their skirts were of black wool with broad stripes of black
velvet thereon, and their stockings were of black wool, and their
shoes of velvet with silver buckles.
Thereupon Thomas Utenhove went to the church and put into the hands
of the priest a couple of rycksdaelders, asking him at the same time
to join in marriage Thylbert the son of Claes (that is Ulenspiegel)
and Tannekin Pieters. And this the cure consented to do.
Ulenspiegel then went to church, followed by the wedding
procession. And there, in the presence of the priest, Tannekin was
made his wife.
And she looked so pretty and so sweet, so complaisant and so tender,
that right willingly would he have eaten her up as she had been a
ripe apple of love. And he told her so, not daring to do more for the
respect he felt for her gentle loveliness. But she pouted her lips,
and bade him leave her alone, for that Hans was watching him and
would kill him without a doubt.
And a certain damsel was jealous, and said to Ulenspiegel:
"Seek elsewhere for a lover. Do you not see that she is afraid of
her own man?"
Lamme clapped his hands together and cried:
"You cannot have them all, you rascal!"
So Ulenspiegel, making the best of his misfortune, returned to the
farm with the wedding guests. And there he drank and sang and made
merry, clinking many a glass with the damsel that was jealous. And
at this Hans was glad, but not so Tannekin, nor yet the youth that
was betrothed to the damsel.
At noon, while the sun shone down from a clear sky and a fresh breeze
was blowing, the wedding carriages started off. They were decorated
with flowers and every kind of greenery, with flags flying, and drums
and fifes, bagpipes and shawms playing most joyfully.
Now it happened that in the camp of the Duke of Alba there was another
fete in progress; and the sentries of the guard, having sounded the
alarm, ran to the Duke, crying:
"The enemy is at hand. We have heard the noise of drums and fifes,
and we have seen their banners in the distance. There is a strong
force of cavalry that is hoping to draw you into some ambush. The
main body, doubtless, is not far off."
The Duke at once sent to warn the colonels and captains, and himself
ordered the army to be massed in battle array, and dispatched certain
scouting parties on reconnaissance.
Then it was that there came on the scene the four carriages, making
straight for the Duke's gunners. And in the chariots were none but
men and women dancing and drinking and playing most joyously on fifes
and drums and bagpipes and shawms. And wondrous was the din that came
from all those instruments.
When the procession had been brought to a halt, the Duke himself came
up, attracted by the noise, and he saw the newly married bride where
she stood in one of the four chariots; and beside her was Ulenspiegel,
the bridegroom, covered with flowers; and all the other peasants,
both men and women, who had by now got down from the chariots and
were dancing all round them and offering drink to the soldiers.
The Duke and his friends were much astonished at the simplicity of
these peasants who sang and made merry when all around them was an
army ready to do battle.
And now they that remained in the chariots were giving all the wine
to the soldiers, and they in their turn were feted by them and made
much of; till at last, when the wine began to run out, the peasants
continued on their way again. The drums and fifes and bagpipes
struck up once more and the cavalcade moved off without any let or
hindrance. And the soldiers, in high good humour, let off a volley
from their guns in honour of the festal occasion.
And thus they came to Maestricht, where Ulenspiegel took counsel with
the agents of the Reformers as to the best way of sending ships loaded
with arms and munitions to the assistance of the Prince's fleet.
And from there they went to Landen and to other places, disguised as
working men.
The Duke was not long in learning the trick that had been played on
him, and there came into his hands a lampoon which was in circulation
at the time, with this refrain:
Bloody Duke,
Silly Duke,
Hast thou seen the Bride?
And every time that the Duke made a mistake in his general-ship the
soldiers would sing:
The Duke he can't see clearly;
He has seen the Bride!