 Chapter 16, Part 1 of Leatherface, A Tale of Old Flanders. This is a LibriVox recording. A LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Dion Jones, Salt Lake City, Utah. Leatherface, A Tale of Old Flanders, by Baroness Orksie, Chapter 16, The Right to Die. And after the lapse of three hundred and more years, the imagination projects itself into that past, so full of heroic deeds, so full of valor and of glory, and stands still wondering before the glowing pictures which the insurrection of Ghent reveals. Memory. The stern handmaiden of unruly imagination goes back to that twenty-first day in October, 1572, and recalls the sounds and sights which from early dawn filled the beautiful city with a presage of desolation to come. The church bells melancholy appeal, the deserted streets, the barred and shuttered houses, the crowds of women and children and old men sitting at prayer in their own halls, the peaceful folk of a prosperous city quietly preparing for death. At four o'clock in the afternoon, the Duke of Alva rides out of the Castile with his staff and his bodyguard, which consists of three squadrons of cavalry, one bandera of Spanish infantry, Halberdeers and Pykemen, and five companies of Harkabaseers. The bands de Ordinance, the local mounted gendarmerie, are on duty in the Vridak Mart, and thither the Duke repairs in slow and stately majesty through silent streets in which every window is shuttered, and where not one idler or gaffer stands to see him pass by. A cruel, ironical smile curls his thin lips beneath the drooping mustache as he notes the deserted aspect of the place. Terror he mutters to himself or silkiness, but they cannot eat their money or their treasures, and there must be a vast deal of it behind those walls. On the Vridak Mart he halts with his armed escort grouped around him, the bands de Ordinance lining the marketplace, his standard unfurled behind him, his drummers in the front, not a soul out upon the Mart, not ahead at any of the windows in the houses round. It seems as if Don Frederick Alvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva, Lieutenant Governor of the Netherlands, and Captain General of the Forces, was about to read a proclamation to a city of the dead. A prolonged roll of drums command silence for his highness, silence which already is absolute, and then the Duke in his usual loud and peremptory voice demands the immediate surrender of the Prince of Orange, now an outlaw in the town, and suddenly from every house around the huge market comes the answering cry. Come and take him, and from every doorway, from every adjoining street men come rushing along with pikes and halberds and muskets, and from end to end of the town the defiant cry arises. Come and take him, the bands de Ordinance hastily summoned by the Duke to keep back the rabble, turned their arms against the Spanish halberdeers, taking up the cry of, come and take him, they go over in a body to the side of the insurgents. At once the walloon archbishop Sears are ordered to fire. The rebels respond this time with their own battle cry of Orange and Liberty and a death-dealing volley of musketry, whereupon the Malay becomes general. The cavalry charges into the now-seried ranks of the Orinjas who are forced momentarily to retreat. They are pushed back across the mart as far as the cemetery of Saint Jacob. Here they unfurl their standard and their musketeers hold their ground with unshakable valor. Firing from behind the low encircling wall with marvelous precision and quickness, whilst two bodies of halberd men and spikemen pour out in numbers from inside the church, and there artillery men with five culverines and three falconettes emerge out of the guildhouse of the Tanners, which is close by, and take up a position in front of the cemetery. Elva's troops soon begin to lose their nerve. They were wholly unprepared for attack, and suddenly they feel themselves both outnumbered and hard-pressed. The duke himself had been unprepared and had appeared upon the Riddick mart with less than 2,000 men, whilst the other companies stationed in different portions of the city had not even been warned to hold themselves in readiness. And just when the Spanish cavalry upon the market square is beginning to give ground, the cry of Suave Quiput is raised somewhere in the distance. The Spanish and Walloon soldiery, quartered in the various guildhouses, the open markets or private homesteads, were just as unprepared for attack as was the garrison of the Castile. They had been promised that as soon as the evening Angelus had ceased to ring they could run wild throughout the city, loot and pillage as much as they desired, and that until that hour they could do no better than fill their heads with ale so as to be ready for the glorious sacking and destruction of the richest town in the Netherlands. Therefore a goodly number of them, fresh from Mecklen, have spent the afternoon in recalling some of the pleasurable adventures there. The trophies gained, the treasure, the money, the jewels all lying ready to their hand. Others have listened open-mouthed and agape longing to get to work on the rich city and its wealthy burgers, and all have imbibed a great quantity of very heady ale which has fuddled their brain and made them more and more drowsy as the afternoon wears on. Their captains too have spent most of the day in the taverns drinking and playing hazard in anticipation of loot, and thus the men are not at the moment in touch with their commanders or with their comrades and all have laid aside their arms. And simultaneously with the Malay in the Vredduck Mart the insurgents have made a general attack upon every guildhouse, every market, every tavern where soldiers are quartered and congregated with much shouting and to-do so as to give an exaggerated idea of their numbers they fall upon the unsuspecting soldiers' walloons for the most part and overpower and capture them before these have fully roused themselves from their afternoon torpor. Their provosts and captains oft surrender without striking a blow in almost every instance so the chroniclers of the time of year fifty and sixty men were captured by a dozen or twenty and within half an hour all the guildhouses are in the hands of the oranges and close on fifteen hundred walloons are prisoners in the cellars below whilst all the arms stowed in the open markets go to swell the stores of the brave orange men but some of the walloons and Spaniards contrive to escape this general rounding up and it was they who first raised the cry of Suave Caput now it is repeated and repeated again and again it echoes from street to street it gains in volume and in power until from end to end of the city it seems to converge toward the Vridok Mart in one huge all-dominating wave of sound Suave Caput and the tramp of running feet the calls and cries drown the clash of Lance and Pike suddenly the bowmen of the oranges scale the low cemetery wall as one man and their defense is turned into a vigorous onslaught the cavalry is forced back upon the market square they catch up the cry Suave Caput they are on us Suave Caput they break their ranks a panic have seized them their retreat becomes a route the oranges are all over the cemetery wall now they charge with halberd and pike and force the Spaniards and walloons back and back into the narrow streets which debouch upon the shelled some are able to escape over the cattle bruise but two entire companies of Spanish infantry and a whole squadron of cavalry are so Mr. Varnavik of ears pushed into the river where they perish to the last man at this hour all is confusion the picture which the mind conjures up of the stricken city is a blurred mass of pikes and lances of muskets and crossbows of Spaniards and walloons and flummings of ragged doublets and plumed hats a medley of sounds of arrows whizzing with a long whistling sound through the air of the crash of muskets and clash of lance against lance the appeal of those who are afraid and the groans of those who are dying of falling timber and sizzling woodwork and crumbling masonry and through it all the awful cry of Suave Caput and the sound of the toxin weirdly calling through the fast gathering night and amidst this helter skelter and confusion the Duke of Alva upon his black charger and tiring grim terrible tries by commands cajoleries threats to rally those who flee but the voice which erstwhile had the power to make the stoutest heart quake had none over the paltrune he shouts and admonishes and threatens in vain they run and run cavalry infantry halberd men and lancers the flower of the Spanish force sent to subdue the Netherlands they run and in the general vortex of fleeing cavalry the Duke is engulfed too and he is carried along as far as the cattle bruise where he tries to make a stand his doublet and hose are covered with mud and grime his mantle is torn his hat has fallen off his head and his white hair floats around his face which is as pale as death cowards he cries with fierce and maddened rage would you fly before such rabble but his voice has lost its magic they do not heed him they fly past him and over the bridge to the safety of het Spangards Castile then prudence dictates the only possible course or capture might become inevitable cursing savagely and vowing more bitter revenge than ever before the Duke at last wheels his horse round and he too hastens back to the stronghold there to work out a plan of campaign against the desperate resistance of that handful of Flemish louts whom his highness and all Spanish grandees and officials so hardly despise half an hour later and we see courier after courier sent flying from het Spangards Castile to every corner of the city the city gates thank the God of the Spaniards have been well garrisoned and well supplied with culverines and balls it is from there that help must come for strange to tell those louts have actually invested the Castile and have the pretension to lay a regular siege to the stronghold was there ever such a farce a couple of thousand of an undisciplined rabble they surely cannot be more daring to pit themselves against a picked guard courier to the Wallport where Ladrano is in command courier to the Brayport Sir Baloney is there with two culverines of the newest pattern and 200 musketeers the like of whom are not known outside the Spanish Army the only pity is that the bulk of the forces inside the city are Walloons such Paltrons as they have already proved themselves surrendering in their hundreds to those confounded rebels they have been scattered like flies out of a honeypot and the entire center of the city is in the hands of the oranges but anyway the whole affair is only a question of time for the moment the evening is closing in fast and the position cannot therefore be improved before nightfall but in the morning a general closing in movement from the gates toward the center would hold the rebels as in a claw and break their resistance within an hour in the meanwhile the morale of the troops must be restored attend to that he captains at the city gates courier follows courier out of the gatehouse of the Castile naked men ready to crawl to swim or to dive to escape the vigilance of the oranges blinds impossible no one is able to cross the open ground beyond the castle moat the houses on the further bank of the shelled are filled with oranges bows and muskets are leveled from every window the culverines are down below covered by the angles of the cross streets the messengers either fall air they reach the shelled or are sent back the way they came attend to the morale of your men he captains at the city gates the Duke of Alva with some three or four thousand men is inside the Castile and no orders or communication can be got from him now before morning and just like the flies when driven out of the honey fly scared to the edges of the pot so the Walloon soldiers those who have escaped from the guild houses go and seek refuge in the shadow of the guardhouses at the gates but the tactics of the oranges have worked upon their nerves at first there had appeared but a rabble upon the Redock Mart but since then the numbers are swelling visibly insurgent seem to be issuing out of every doorway from under every arch in the city they rush out with muskets and crossbows with pikes and halberds and to the Walloons already unnerved and fatigued their numbers appear to be endless and their arms of a wonderful precision their muskets are of the newest pattern such as are made in Germany and these they use with marvelous skill discharging as many as 10 shots in one quarter of an hour and none but the picked French musketeers have ever been known to do that and they are led by a man who seems to know neither fatigue nor fear here there and everywhere he appears to the Walloon and Spanish soldiers like a mysterious being from another world he wears no armor but just a suit of leather which envelops him from head to foot and his face is hidden by a leather mask his voice rings from end to end of the marketplace one moment the next he appears inside the enclosure of the cemetery now he is at Saint Ferreld and Anon back at Saint Jacob three of Alva's couriers hastily dispatched to the commandants at the various gatehouses fall to his pistol which is the only weapon he carries and it is he who leads the last attack on the cattle bruise which results in the flight of Alva and all his cavalry to the safe precincts of the Castile before the evening Angelus has ceased to ring the whole of the center of the city is swept clear of Alva's troops and the insurgents have completely surrounded the Castile darkness finds the oranges bivouacking in the open markets and along the banks of the shelled and the lay with their artillery still thundering against Alva's stronghold and the gatehouses of the city like bursts of thunderclouds in a storm the mantle of night has fallen over a vast hecatome of dead and dying of Walloon's and Fleming's and Spaniards of brothers who have died side by side with muskets raised in fratricide one against the other and of women and children who have died of terror and of grief and memory conjures up the vision of the tyrant the author of all this desolation riding slowly through the portal of the gatehouse into the yard of Het Spanjards Castile a quarter of an hour or so air the darkness of the night will finally cover all the abomination and the crimes the murder the misery and the bloodshed which the insatiable tyranny of this one man has called down upon a peaceable and liberty loving people he rides with had erect although fatigue and care are writ plainly on his ashen cheeks and the wearied stoop of his shoulders his horse has received a wound in the flank from which the blood oozes and stains its riders boots here in the castle yard some semblance of order has been brought about through the activity of the captains the horses have been stable in the vaulted cellars the men have found quarters in different parts of the castile the musketeers and archbishop's are up on the walls the artillery well screened behind the parapets the night has called a halt to man even in the midst of Baron victories and of unlooked for defeat and their sorrow and their hurts their last sigh of agony or cry of triumph have all been equally silenced in her embrace but over the city the sky is lured and glowing crimson through a veil of smoke the artillery and musketeer have seized their thundering but still from out the gloom there come weird and hideous noises of horse shouts and cries of mercy and of help and from time to time the sudden crash of crumbling masonry or of charred beams falling in but alva pays no heed to what goes on around him he swings himself wearily out of the saddle and gives a few brief orders to the captains who press close beside his stirrup anxious for a word or a look of encouragement or of praise then he currently asks for water Don Sancho de Avila captain of the castle guard hands him the leather bottle and he drinks really we are in a tight corner Monsignor whispers de Avila under his breath hold thy tongue full is alva's rough retort whereupon the captain stands aside more convinced than before that disaster is in the air the Duke had been the last to turn his back on the kettle brooch and to retire into the stronghold of the Castile the banks of the shelled by now are lined with the ranks of the insurgents and it was a musket shot fired from the leash house that wounded his horse close to the saddlebow his quivering lips and the ashen hue of his face testify to his consciousness of danger but his brow clears perceptibly when he sees Juan de Vargas coming out to meet him where is thy daughter he asks as soon as the other is within earshot in chapel I imagine replies de Vargas no woman should be abroad this night says alva dryley sent for her and order her to remain within her apartments she has been tending the wounded and will wish to do so again well let her keep to the castle yard then you are not anxious monsignor no not anxious replies alva with a fierce oath we can subdue these rebels of course but I would I had brought Spanish soldiers with me rather than these waloon louts they let themselves be massacred like sheep or elts run like paltrons the telly declares he has lost over a thousand men and at least a thousand more our prisoners in the various guild houses probably more we ought never to have lost ground as we did he adds sullenly but who would have thought that these louts meant to fight who indeed retorts de Vargas with a sneer and yet here we are besieged in our own citadel and by a handful of undisciplined peasants may their triumph will be short lived exclaims alva savagely we have over two thousand men inside the cast steel and surely they cannot be more than three thousand all told unless he broke off abruptly then continued more calmly darkness closed in on us air reprisals could commence if I had more Spaniards with me I would try a sortie in the night and catch these oaths in their sleep but these walloons are such damnable fools and such abominable cowards but we'll fight our way through in the morning never fear in the meanwhile cannot we send to Dendermond for reinforcements the garrison there is all Spanish and how can we send alva breaks in savagely the way is barred by the artillery of those bandits save upon the north and northeast where that awful morass nearly half a league in length and width is quite impossible in autumn no we cannot get reinforcements unless we fight our way through first unless one of the commandants at the gates has realized the gravity of the situation ladrano at the wallport has intelligence he continues more calmly and sir baloney have initiative and by the mass if one of them does not get us quickly out of this sorry place I will have them all hanged at dawn upon their gates the Duke of alva's fierce wrath is but a result of his anxiety he holds the netherlanders in bitter contempt is true he knows that tomorrow perhaps he can send to Dendermond for reinforcements and can then crush that handful of rebels as he would a fly beneath his iron heel he would have his revenge he knew that but he also knew that that revenge would cost him dear he has fought those Flemish louts as he calls them too often and too long not to know that when the day breaks once more he will have to encounter stubborn resistance dog determination and incalculable losses ere he can subdue and punish these men who have nothing now to lose but their lives and those lives his own tyranny has anyhow made forfeit Devargas makes no further comment on his chief's last tirade remembering his daughter he goes to transmit to her the order formulated by the Duke Lenora is in the chapel and obedient to her father's commands she rises from her knees and returns silent and heavy-footed to her apartments the hours drag on like unto centuries she has even lost count of time it is 48 hours now since she held Mark's wounded arm in her hand and discovered the awful the hideous truth since then she has not really lived she has just glided through the utter desolation of life hoping and praying that it might finish soon and put an end to her misery she had acted as she believed in accordance with God's will but she felt that her heart within her was broken that nothing ever again would bring solace to her soul that long miserable day yesterday in Dendermond whilst she was waiting for a reply from her father had been like an eternity of torment and she had then thought that nothing on earth or in hell could be more terrible to bear and then today she realized that there was yet more misery to endure and more and more each day until the end of time for of a truth there would be no rest or surceys from sorrow for her even in her grave the one little crumb of comfort in her misery has been the companionship of Greta the child was silent and self contained and had obviously suffered much in her young life and therefore understood the sorrows of others knew how to sympathize when to offer words of comfort and when to be silent though Inaz was a pattern of devotion her chattering soon graded on Lenora's nerves and anon when Don Juan de Vargas agreed to allow his daughter to come with him to Gant Lenora arranged that Greta be made to accompany her and that Inaz be sent straight on to Brussels the girl with the blind submission peculiar to the ignorant and the downtrodden had consented she had already learned to love the beautiful and noble lady whose pale face bore such terrible lines of sorrow and her sister Catrine and her aunt both believed that the child would be quite safe under the immediate protection of Don Juan de Vargas Inaz was sent off to Brussels and Lenora and Greta are now the only two women inside the Castile together they flit like sweet pale ghosts amongst the litters of straw whereon men lay groaning wounded often cursing they bandage the wounds bring water to parched lips past tender soothing hands across feverish foreheads then at times Lenora takes Greta's rough little hand in hers and together the women wander out upon the ramparts the sentries and the guard know them and they are not challenged and they go slowly along the edge of the walls close to the parapets and look down upon the waters of the moat here at the dead lie in their hundreds cradled upon the turgid waters washed hither through the narrow canals by the more turbulent shelled their pale still faces turned upwards to the gray evening light and Lenora wonders if anon she will perceive a pair of gray eyes that were want to be so merry turning sightless orbs to the dull bleak sky she scans each pale face with eyes seared and tearless and not finding him whom she seeks she goes back with Greta to her work of mercy among the wounded only to return again and seek again with her heart torn between the desire to know whether the one man whom she hates with a bitter passion that fills her entire soul hath indeed paid the blood toll for the dastardly murder of Ramon or whether God will punish her for that irresistible longing which possesses her to hold that same cowardly enemy wounded or dying assassin though he be for one unforgettable moment in her arms but it is not desolation that reigns in the refectory of the convent of st. Agneton for here the leaders of the rebellion have assembled as soon as the guns have ceased to roar the numbers of their followers since last night have increased by hundreds and still the recruits come pouring in those men who but four days ago had received the prince of oranges overtures with vague promises and obvious indifference rushed to arms after the first musket shot had been fired ever since the attack in the verdict Mart men have loudly clamored for halberts or pikes or muskets and the captains at the various secret depots as well as the guild of armorers had much ado to satisfy all those who longed to shed their blood with glory rather than be massacred like in sentient cattle they are men who have fought at grave lines and st. Quentin and have not forgotten how to shoulder a musket or crossbow or how to handle a culverine since then 15 years of oppression of brow beating of terrorizing 15 years under the yoke of the inquisition and of Spanish tyranny have worn down the edge of their enthusiasm when orange begged for money and men that he might continue the fight for liberty the goodly burgers of Ghent forgot their glorious traditions and preferred to bend their neck to the yoke rather than risk the fate of Mons and of Meklin but now that danger is within their doors now that they and their wives and daughters are at the mercy of the same brutal soldiery whom Alva and Devargas take pleasure in driving to be steal excesses and in human cruelties now that they realize that the fate of Meklin is already inevitably theirs their dormant courage rises once more to its most sublime altitude die they must that they know how can they within the enclosure of their own city walls stand up against the armies of Spain which can at any moment be brought up in their thousands to reinforce the tyrants troops but at least they will die with muskets or pikes in their hands and their wives and daughters will be spared the supreme outrage which they count worse than death thus close on five thousand volunteers file path their leaders this night in the refectory of St. Agneton and tender their oath of allegiance to fight to the last man for orange and liberty on the faces of those leaders of Monsieur Van Beveren of Leven Van Danes of Lawrence Van Reich and Jan Van McGrode there is plainly writ the determination to keep up the fight to the end and the knowledge that the end can only be death for them all but in Mark Van Reich's deep set eyes there is something more than mere determination there is a latent belief that God will intervene there is a curious exultation in their merry depths a kind of triumphant hope and those who stand before him and swear that they will fight for orange and liberty with the last drop of their blood look him straight in the face for a moment and then turn away feeling less grim and more courageous with a courage not altogether born of despair the angel of liberty has unsheathed his sword and infused his holy breath into these men easy going burgers for the most part untrained soldiers or even undisciplined rabble who have dared to defy the might of Alva and when the first streak of dawn falls the night in its embrace and lifts from off the stricken city the veil of oblivion and of sleep we see some five thousand oranges prepared to stand up before Alva's forces which still number close on eight the streets are littered with dead with pikes and lances hastily cast aside with muskets and plumed bonnets with broken rubbish and wheel less wagons and scraps of cloth or shoes or leather belts and in the cemetery of Saint Jacob the flag of liberty still flaunts its blazing orange in the pale morning light and around it men still rally defiant and unconquered the gilt house of the tanners close by is in flames and the tower of Saint Jacob a crumbling ruin the hostel of Saint Juan Tandelen is a charred mass of debris and the houses that front on the Vedrick Mart a fast crumbling heap of masonry and glass the situation of the insurgents is more desperate than even Alva knows of their three captains Pierre van Overback is dead Jan van McGrode severely wounded and Lawrence van Reich exhausted of their company of halberdeers all the provosts except two have fallen the investing lines around the Castile have five officers killed and twenty of their artillerymen have fallen six hundred of their wounded encumber the Vedrick Mart the narrow streets which debouch upon the gates are deserted save by the dead but as soon as the rising day have touched the ruined tower of Saint Jacob with its pale silvery light Mark van Reich their commander intrepid and undaunted wakes the sleeping echoes with his cry burgers of Ghent to arms we are not vanquished yet a volley of arrows from the crossbowman upon the wallport answers the defiant cry one arrow pierces a loose corner of Mark's doublet van Reich cries the provost who stands nearest to him spare thyself in the name of God what shall we do if you fall and Mark unmoved the fire of enthusiasm and quenched in his eyes cries loudly in response do what alone can burgers of Ghent do in face of what lies before them if they give in do why die like heroes to the last man his doublet hangs from him in rags his hose is torn his head bare his face black with powder he grasps musket or crossbow halberd lance or pike whatever is readiness to his hand whichever company hath need of a leader a beam from the burning building has fallen within a yard of him and singed his hair heroes of Ghent he cries which of you will think of giving in the morning angelus begins to ring for a few minutes while the pure clear tones of the church bells reverberate above the den of waking men and clash of arms Spaniards and Walloons and Flemings pause in their hate and their fight in order to pray up in the council chamber of the Castile Alva and Vargas and Del Rio on their knees mock the very God whom they invoke and when the last a man has left their lips Alva struggles to his feet and murmurs fiercely and now for revenge through the wide open windows he gazes upon the spires and roofs of the beautiful city which he hath sworn to destroy already many of these are crumbling ruins and from far away near the church of Saint Jacob a column of black smoke rises upwards to the sky the windows give upon an iron balcony which runs along the entire width of the Miste Torren from this balcony an open staircase leads down into the castle yard the yard and vaulted cellars opposite are filled with horses and the corridors of the palace swarm with men and as the Duke Anon steps out upon the balcony he sees before him the five breeches in the castle walls which testify to the power of the insurgents' coverance he hears the groans of the wounded who lie all round the walls upon the litters of straw he sees the faces of innumerable dead floating wide-eyed upon the waters of the moat and the carcasses of horses in the yard which add to the horror of the scene by their pathetic hideousness and seeing all this he hath not a thought of pity for all the innocent whom he vows to punish along with the guilty now for revenge he reiterates fiercely and shakes a clenched fist toward the tower of St. Jacob and if only I had my Spaniers with me we would have burned the town down before now end of chapter 16 part one chapter 16 part two of Leatherface A Tale of Old Flanders this is a LibriVox recording a LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Deon Jones Salt Lake City, Utah Leatherface A Tale of Old Flanders by Baroness Orksie Chapter 16 The Right to Die The day drags on in the weary monotony of incessant firing incessant fighting constant attacks to be repulsed numbers of wounded to be added to those who already encumber the yard numbers of dead to be added to those who encumber the waters of the moat the finest general the victorious Spanish armies have ever known is besieged in his stronghold by a few hundred undisciplined untaught unseasoned rebel troops what is happening beyond the wide track of open ground which lies all round the castile the Duke cannot get to know the orangist lines are all round him screened by the buildings which face the further bank of the shelled and though his culverines have turned the magnificent leash house into a smoking ruin those of the oranges have made serious havoc in the castle walls the last onslaught delivered a couple of hours after noon day resulted in the crumbling together of three of the widest breaches already existing making one huge yawning cavity which has to be strongly and persistently defended a defense which exacts an enormous toll of wounded and dead every time the orangist artillery and musketry return to the attack we cannot hold out till nightfall captain de avila cries despairingly we have lost two hundred men in less than two hundred minutes if we get no help we are undone help cries alva fiercely where are we to get help if those oafs at the city gates do not find us some on the northeast side of the castile lies the open way to dendrimond where captain gonzalo de bracamont is quartered with a garrison of five thousand men and between that open way of salvation and those who hold the castile there lies a league of spongy morass the way through it is free from the orangist musketry nature alone bars it and does so effectually three times today has alva tried to send runners through that way stripped to the skin they are lowered by ropes from the parapet and at first find firm foothold at the base of the walls from up above alva and his captains watch the naked men who walk on boldly proud of their achievement their skins shine like metal beneath the gray autumnal sky on which the smoldering ruins of a devastated city have painted a crimson tint alva watches them until they appear as mere black dots upon the low horizon tiny black specks that move for a while slowly along with arms swinging as the mud gets deeper and walking heavier then suddenly the speck ceases to move the arms are thrown up with frantic wheelings and beatings of the air sometimes the speck will turn and move back slowly toward the castle but more often than not it grows shorter and shorter still till even the tall arms disappear engulfed in the morass three times have men been sent out on this errand of death three or four at a time twice has one man come back from those hideous yawning jaws of a loathsome death livid covered with green slime trembling in every limb as if stricken with agu after that men refuse to go alva commands and threatens another batch go off another specter returns from the shores of another world then the men are obstinate to insist to command to threaten further would provoke mutiny and the stronghold once more lapses into utter isolation the den of muscatry from end to end of the city drowns every other sound smoke from smoldering ruins obscures the view beyond the shelled what has happened in the center of the city during all these hours whilst the high and mighty lieutenant governor and captain general of the force of occupation is a virtual prisoner in the hands of the rebels he himself cannot possibly tell the rebels have lost more heavily than we have says day of villa while he snatches a brief rest during the afternoon and they must be getting short of powder so are we says alva grimly surely captain ladrano has come in touch with captain sir baloney by now it is inconceivable that the garrisons at the gatehouses can do nothing those netherlanders are fighting like devils says divargus with his evil sneer they have nothing to lose they know that they are doomed every man woman and child of them I if I had my way every man who speaks the flemish tongue I retorts alva with a curse but in the meanwhile if sir baloney or ladrano have not sent a runner to dendermond those flemish louts will carry this castle by storm and when I am a prisoner in their hands they'll either slaughter us all or dictate their own terms ah says avila quietly they have not got the cast steel yet how long can we hold out queries divargus who at alva's grimly prophetic words had become livid with fear unless those rebels have lost more heavily than we hope we cannot hold out more than another few hours we still have three thousand men and a goodly stock of powder the breach we can defend with stones of which there is a large store we killed or wounded over a hundred of those louts at their last assault we can go on like this until nightfall but if at dawn they attack us again in full force and we lose many more men today why hold thy tongue cried alva fiercely for at the senior captain's words many of the younger ones have exchanged quick significant glances shall I have to hang some of my captains so as to discourage the men from playing the coward too the evening angelus has just ceased to ring and a man is ushered into the presence of the captain general he is naked and his body is covered with sticky mud and dripping with slime his face is hardly recognizable through the thick mask of sweat and grime I come from Brayport magnificence he says in a low quaking voice for obviously he is all but exhausted I ran round the town and struck into the morass I am a man of gent I know a track that's why captain Serbaloni sent me with what news queries alva impatiently none too good magnificence replies the man the commandants at the gates are sorely pressed I hailed the guard at the bridge and wall ports as I passed they are isolated every one of them and each separately attacked by bands of rebels who fight desperately the Brayport cannot hold out much longer captain Serbaloni asks for help even before nightfall help vociferates alva savagely how can I send them help we are besieged in this accursed place we cannot fight our way through the rabble unless some of those oafs at the city gates come to our assistance help tis I want help hearer the gates are being bravely defended magnificence but the rebels still hold the center of the city they have seized Scravenstein two thousand Walloons have surrendered to them two thousand exclaims alva with a fierce oath the miserable paultrons at least three thousand rebels threaten the Castile I know that well enough retorts alva roughly they have made five breaches in our wall the bandits help tis I want help he reiterates with a loud curse captain Serbaloni bade me tell your highness that he hath sent to Dendermond for immediate reinforcements he hoped your highness would forgive him if he hath done wrong alva's eyes flash a look of satisfaction but he makes no immediate comment not even his colleagues not even Dvargas his intimate should see how immense is his relief did he send a mounted man he asks after a while or two two would be better in case a man gets hurt on the way the captain sent three men magnificence but they had to go on foot we have no horses at the gates the insurgents rounded them all in long before nightfall but the men hoped to pick up one or more on their way alva as is his want smothers a savage curse the small body of Spanish cavalry which he had with him in the town had been the first to run helter-skelter over the cattle brooch into the castile whilst a whole squadron perished in the shelled one of those horses down there in the yard would mean reinforcements within a few hours when did the messenger start for dendrimond he asks again when the angelus began to ring at noon magnificence why not before the captain was undecided he thought that every moment would bring help or orders from your highness he also tried to send messengers to captain ladrano at the wallport but the messengers must all have been intercepted and killed for no help came from anywhere dust know if the message which thy captain sent to dendrimond was couched in urgent terms I believe so magnificence the senior captain was growing very anxious once more the duke is silent his brows contract in an anxious frown his active brain is busy in making a mental calculation as to how soon those reinforcements can arrive the men will have to walk to dendrimond he muses and cannot get there before nightfall the commandant may start at night but he may tarry till the morrow it will be the end of the day before he and his men are here and in the meanwhile at the breakport he queries curtly how many of the guard have been killed we had a hundred and twenty killed when I left magnificence and over three hundred lay wounded on the bridge we have suffered heavily adds the man after a slight moment of hesitation the hesitation of the bearer of evil tidings who dreads his listeners wrath alva remains silent for a moment or two then he says abruptly does know that I have half a mind to kill thee for all the evil news which thou hast brought then he laughs loudly and long because the man with a quick cry of terror has made a sudden dash for the open window and is brought back by the lance of the provost on guard upon the balcony the pleasure of striking terror into the hearts of people has not yet paled upon his magnificence if I had a whole mind to kill thee he continues thou wouldst have no chance of escape so cease thy trembling and ask the provost there to give thee water to cleanse thyself food to put inside thy belly and clothing wherewith to hide thy nakedness then come back before me I'll give thee a chance to save thy life by doing a service to thy king he makes a sign to one of the provost who seizes the man roughly by the shoulders and incontinently bundles him out of the room in the council chamber no one dares to speak his highness has become moody and has sunk upon his high back chair where he remains inert and silent wrapped in gloomy meditations and when he is in one of those sullen moods no one dares to break in on his thoughts no one except Senor Devargas and he too is as preoccupied as his chief Devargas says Alva abruptly after a while dust mind that tomorrow is not only Sunday but the feast of the blessed redeemer and a holy day of obligation I, Monsignor, replied Devargas unctuously I am minded that if we do not go to mass tomorrow those of us who die unabsolved of the sin will go to hell the men are grumbling already breaks in breaks in Don Sancho de Avila captain of the bodyguard they say they will not fight tomorrow if they cannot go to mass those Wallooms not only the Wallooms Monsignor rejoins de Avila the Spaniards are better Catholics than all these Netherlanders they fear to die with a mortal sin upon their soul nothing more is said just then the great day is already yielding to dusk the fire of artillery and musketry is less incessant the clash of pike and halberd can be heard more distinctly and also the cries of the women and the groans of the wounded and the dying a few moments later a tall lean man in the borrowed dress of a Spanish halberdier is ushered into the presence of the council water, food and clothes have effected a transformation which Alva surveys critically and not without approval the man lean of visage and clean of limb looks intelligent and capable the duke orders him to advance tis good for thee he says dryly that thy death is more unprofitable to me than thy life I want a messenger art afraid to go to the miserable wretch who dares to lead a rebel horde against our sovereign king I am afraid of nothing magnificence replies the man quietly save your highness's wrath dust know where to find the rebel where musket balls fly thickest your highness then tell him says Alva curtly that as soon as the night has fallen and the fire of culverines and muskets has ceased I will have the drawbridge at the southeast of this castle lowered and I will come forward to meet him accompanied by my captains and the members of my council tell him to walk forward and meet me until we are within earshot of one another and to order his torchbearers to throw the light of their torches upon his face then will I put forward a proposal which hath regard to the eternal salvation of every man woman and child inside this city tell him to guard his person as he thinks fit but tell him also that from the ramparts of this cast steel three hundred muskets will be aimed at his head and at the slightest suspicion of treachery the order will be given to fire dust understand every word your highness says the man simply then go in peace concludes alva and the man is dismissed an hour later the drawbridge at the southeast gate of the cast steel was lowered twilight had now faded into night the dull gray day had yielded to black impenetrable night here and there far away in the heart of the city lurid lights shot through the darkness and every now and then a column of vivid flame would strike up to the dense black sky and for a while illumine the ruined towers the shattered roofs and broken chimneys around air it fell again sizzling in the damp atmosphere the duke of alva rode out in the gloom he was seated upon his black charger and was preceded by his torchbearers and by his bodyguard of archers behind him walked his captains and the members of his council the procession slowly wended its way under the portal of the gatehouse and then over the bridge at the farthest end of the bridge the duke reigned in his horse and his bodyguard his captains and the members of his council all stood behind him so that he immediately faced the tract of open ground beyond which were the orangest lines the flickering light of resin torches illumined the commanding figure of the duke dressed in somber clothes and silk lined mantle and wearing breast and backplates of armor with huge tassets over his wide breeches and open steel morian on his head to right and left far away toward the open country the bivouac fires of the insurgents gleamed weirdly in the night all noise of fighting had ceased and a strange silence had fallen over the city a silence which hid many secrets of horror and of despair suddenly something began to move something that at first appeared darker than the darkness of the night a few moments later it appeared as a speck of ruddy light which moved quickly now toward the castle bridge anon it was distinguishable as a group of men a dozen or so with a couple of torchbearers on in front the light from whose torches fell full upon a tall figure which stood out boldly amongst the others now the group came to a halt less than fifty paces away and those upon the bridge could see that tall figure quite clearly a man in ragged doublet and hose with grimy hands and face blackened with powder he held his head very erect and wore neither helmet nor armor at sight of him De Vargas gave a cry of rage and surprise Mark van Rijk he exclaimed what have he to do with it all thy daughter's husband said Alva Cooley now then will soon make her a widow but to the oranges he called peremptorily tis with the rebel whom ye call Leatherface that I wish to speak I have been known as Leatherface hither too retorts Mark van Rijk Cooley speak without fear I listen Vargas' cry of rage was echoed by more than one Spanish captain present they remembered Mark van Rijk then ne'er do well with whom they had offed drunk and gested in the taverns of Ghent and Brussels I and before whom they had offed talked openly of their plans spy as well as rebel they cried out to him wrathfully pity he cannot hang more than once added De Vargas with bitter spite but to Alva the personality of the rebel was of no consequence what cared he if the man was called van Rijk and was the husband of his friend's daughter there stood an abominable rebel who had gained by treachery and stealth a momentary advantage over the forces of his suzerain Lord the King and who would presently suffer along with the whole of this insurgent city the utmost rigor of Alva's laws in the meanwhile he deigned to parley with the lout for he was so repressed inside the castile and the messengers who were speeding to Dendermonde for reinforcements could not possibly bring help for at least another four and twenty hours therefore now he the Lieutenant Governor of the Netherlands and Captain General of his Majesty's forces demanded attention in the name of the King do ye come as traitors he asked in a loud voice or as loyal men if as traitors ye shall die ere ye advance another step but if ye are loyal men then listen for I will speak with you in amity and peace thou knowest best magnificence came marks clear voice out of the group if we are loyal men or no thou descend an emissary to us he goeth back to thee unhurt thou standest before our bowmen even now and not an arrow hath touched thine armor we are loyal men and are prepared to listen to what ye have to say listen then resumed the Duke curtly but let no false hopes lure ye the while ye are rebels and are under the ban of the law nothing but unconditional surrender can win mercy for your city nothing but humility can save thee from the wrath of God retorted Mark boldly we are unconquered magnificence and tis thou who ask us to parley not we I do not ask retorted Elva loudly I demand then since tis the vanquished who demand let us hear what they wish to say tomorrow is Sunday rebel hath forgotten that no tyrant I had not God hath forbidden us to work on that day but not to fight against oppression he hath also enjoined us to attend mass on his day our ye heretics that ye care not for that we care for the Lord's day as much as Spaniards do yet will ye prevent his people from praying in peace we'll pray for those whom thy tyranny keeps locked up within thy castle walls not so exclaims Elva my men are free to go they will attend mass in the churches of this city will you butcher them whilst they are at prayer there was no immediate reply to this taunt but from the insurgents ranks there came a loud warning call do not heed him van Reich remember Eggmont and Horne do not fall into the tyrant's trap there's treachery in every word he says Elva waited in silence until the tumult had subsided he knew what he wanted and why he wanted it a few hours respite would mean salvation for him a few hours and the garrison of Dendrimond would be on its way to Ghent he wanted to stay the hand of time for those few hours and had invented this treacherous means to gain that end Tisna wonder he said quietly as soon as the clamor on the orangest side was stilled that ye who are traitors should seek treachery everywhere what I propose is loyal and just and in accordance with God's own decrees if ye refuse ye do so at the peril of thousands of immortal souls we know not yet what it is he asked said van Reich quietly we demand a truce until the evening Angelus tomorrow the Lord's Day which is also the feast of the holy Redeemer we demand the right to attend mouse in peace and in exchange will agree not to molest you whilst ye pray and whilst ye bury your dead a truce until the evening Angelus broke in Mark hotly so that ye may send for reinforcements to the nearest garrison town we refuse you refuse retorted Alva for two days and a night ye have raised your arms against your lawful king if you fight tomorrow you will add sacrilege to your other crimes and thou treachery to thine said van Reich boldly whence this desire to keep holy the Sabbath day tyrant what's thou have ceased to destroy to pillage or to outrage this day if we had not raised our arms in our own defense well said van Reich cried the Oranges the immortal souls which your obstinacy would send to hell said the Duke of Alva will return and haunt you till they drag you back with them can you not pray in your cast steel retorted Mark we have no priest to say mass for us we will send you one we have no consecrated chapel the priest will say mass in your castle yard beneath the consecrated dome of heaven the Waloon prisoners whom we have taken are receiving the ministry of our priests in the guild houses where they are held nay but such makeshift would not satisfy the children of Spain who are also the chosen children of the church but continued Alva with a sudden assumption of indifference I have made my proposal take it or not as she list but remember this the dead who lie unburied in your streets will have their revenge pestilence and disease will sweep your city of your children as soon as we have vanquished your men treachery cried some of the oranges do not heed him van Reich but of a truth the cry was not repeated quite so insistently this time Alva's last argument was an unanswerable one pestilence these days was a more formidable foe than the finest artillery wielded by a powerful enemy there were over 2,000 dead lying unburied in the city at this hour as the tyrant said very truly these would take a terrible revenge and there was something too in the sanctity of the Lord's Day which touched the hearts of these men who were deeply religious and devout and had a profound respect for the dictates of the church most of them were Catholics the importance of attending mass on the Lord's Day on pain of committing a deadly sin weighed hard upon their conscience Alva was quick to note the advantage which he had already gained and when the first dissentient voice among the oranges was heard to say a truce can do no harm and twerk sacrilege to fight on the Lord's Day he broke in quickly nay, tis not fighting ye would do but murder I murder on the day of the holy redeemer who died that ye should live my men are Catholic to a man not one of them but would far rather let himself be butchered than commit a deadly sin rebels who have outraged your king tomorrow morning the church bells will be calling the faithful to the holy sacrifice the truce which you refuse to hold with us we will grant you of our own free will we will not fight you on the day of the feast of the holy redeemer but tomorrow every Spaniard and every Waloon in our armies will go unarmed and present himself at your church doors I, even I, with my captains and the members of the King's Council will attend mass at the church of St. Baph's and we will be unarmed for we shall have placed ourselves under the care of the holy redeemer himself and now tell thy soldiers rebel tell them that Spaniards and Waloons will be in the churches of Ghent in their thousands and that they will be defenseless save for the armor of prayer which will encompass them as they kneel before the altar of God and in the meanwhile retorted Van Rijk ye will be sending to Dendermonde and Alast and Antwerpen and when after the evening Angelus we take up arms once more against your tyranny there will be five thousand more Spaniards at our gates by the holy redeemer whom I herewith invoke said Alva solemnly and raised his hand above his head with a gesture of invocation I swear that no messenger of mine shall leave the city before ye once more take up arms against your king I swear that no messenger of mine hath left this city for the purpose of getting help from any garrison town and may my soul be eternally damned if I do not speak the truth those who were present at this memorable interview declare that when Alva registered this false and blasphemous oath a curious crimson light suddenly appeared in the east so strong and lurid was it that the perjurer himself put up his hand for a second or two as if blinded by the light Philip de Lenoy Signore de Beauvoir assures us that the light was absolutely dazzling and of the color of blood but that he took it as a warning from God against the sacrilege of fighting on this holy day and that it caused him to add the weight of his influence with Mark van Rijk to grant the truths which the Spaniards desired undoubtedly the solemn oath spoken by the tyrant who was such a devout and bigoted Catholic greatly worked upon the feelings of the Oranges never for a moment did the suspicion of the oath being a false one entered their loyal heads nor must they be blamed for their childish confidence in a man who had lied to them and deceived them so continuously for the past five years they were so loyal themselves such a trap as Elva was setting for them now was so far from their ken that it was impossible for them to imagine such a pauling treachery as for this sanctity of an oath they would as soon have thought of doubting the evidence of their own eyes Mark van Rijk it is true held out to the last he knew these Spaniards better than those simple burgers did not in vain had he spent his best years in the uncongenial task of warming out their secret plans their treacherous devices overtankers of ale and games of hazard in Flemish taverns he mistrusted them all he mistrusted Alva above all he had no belief in that executable monsters oath God is on our side he said quietly we'll bury our dead when we can and pray when God wills he'll forgive the breaking of his Sabbath for the justice of our cause they are weary of the fight he added obstinately we are not but already every one of his friends was urging him to grant the truth for the sake of our women and children said van Danes who voiced the majority let there be no fighting tomorrow the tyrant has pledged his immortal soul that he will not play us faults no man would dare to do that unless he meant to be true rebel now shouted Alva impatiently I await thine answer accept van Reich accept cried the oranges unanimously now it is God's will that we accept I await thine answer rebel reiterated Alva what answer can I give retorted van Reich you say your men will go to our churches unarmed we are not butchers as ye would have been you will let them pray in peace as thou desirous you who were prepared to destroy our city and to murder our women and our children will have nothing to fear from us while ye are unarmed and at prayer until the evening Angelus ceases to ring until then and until that hour we remain as we are our guard at the gates our prisoners in our hands and may God guard thee concluded Alva unctuously may God have mercy on thy soul if thou hast lied to us said Mark van Reich quietly to this Alva made no reply but his grim face looked in no way troubled special absolution even for speaking a false oath could easily be obtained alas these days by any Duke of Alva or other tyrant powerful enough to demand it and no doubt the Lieutenant Governor sent to subdue the rebellious low countries was well provided with every kind of dispensation which embodied the principle that the end justifies the means he wheeled his horse round and holy callous and unconcerned he rode back slowly over the bridge as soon as the last of the Spaniards had filed under the gatehouse of the Castile and the drawbridge was once more raised Mark van Reich turned with unwanted peremptoriness to his friends who were crowding round him eagerly approving of what he had done Van Danes he said curtly tomorrow at dawn see that your musketeers are masked inside the ruins of the Tanner's Guildhouse and you Lawrence place three hundred of your picked archers under the cover of the Vishmart Lenoy your pykeman beneath the arcades of the Abbey opposite Saint Baths and you Grubendoc yours in the doorways of the houses opposite Saint Fereld and every one of you under arms let the Spaniards pray in peace if they have not lied but at the first sign of treachery remember your wives and your daughters and do not spare the murderers of your children or the desecraters of your homes and of chapter sixteen part two