Читать книгу Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent - G. P. R. James - Страница 11

CHAPTER V.

Оглавление

It was after dinner on the following morning--which meal, be it remarked, took place in those days about ten o'clock--that the Dauphin and the Marshal of Burgundy rose to bid adieu to their noble host, and offered him, in courteous terms, their thanks for the hospitable entertainment he had shown them.

"I have, my lord, a favour to ask in return," said the Lord of Hannut, "which will leave me your debtor. The case is simply this: some worthy merchants of Ghent, travelling on mercantile affairs, as I am told, arrived here this morning; and, being fearful of encountering some of the robbers, who have given to this forest not the best repute, they are now waiting in the inner court, anxious to join themselves to your train, and accompany you as far as Cortenbergh, where they will leave you, and take the short-cut to Ghent."

"Willingly, willingly," replied the Dauphin; "by my faith, if there be robbers in the wood, the more men we are, the better."

The Marshal of Burgundy looked somewhat grave. "I have heard rumours, my lord," he said, "that the men of Ghent, who, in my young day, when I frequented this part of the country, were as turbulent a race of base mechanics as ever drove a shuttle or worked a loom, have not forgotten their old habits, and from day to day give my lord the duke some fresh anxiety."

"Nay, nay," replied the Lord of Hannut; "these men are rich burghers, returning peacefully to their own city from some profitable excursion."

"Oh, let us have them, by all means!" exclaimed Louis, who possibly might have his own views, even at that time, in cultivating a good understanding with the people of Ghent. At least, we know that he never ceased to keep up some correspondence with the burghers of the manufacturing towns of Flanders, from the time of his exile among them, to the last hour of his life. "Oh! let us have them by all means. Think of the robbers, my Lord Marshal! By my faith! I have too few florins in my purse to lose any willingly!"

The Marshal of Burgundy signified his assent by a low inclination of the head; though it was evident, from his whole manner, that he was not at all pleased with the new companions thus joined to his band; and would at once have rejected the proposal, had good manners towards his host, or respect towards the Dauphin, permitted him to make any further opposition.

"So necessary do I think caution against the freebooters, my lords," said the master of the mansion, as he conducted them towards the court-yard, where their horses stood saddled, "that I have ordered ten spears of my own to accompany you to the verge of the forest. They will join you at the little town of Hannut, about a quarter of a league distant; and will remain with you as long as you may think it necessary."

Louis expressed his gratitude in courtly terms; and the Lord of Neufchatel thanked his old friend more frankly; but said, he should like to see the boldest freebooter that ever was born, stand before the Marshal of Burgundy, though he had but four lances and four horseboys in his train. The party were by this time in the court-yard; and Louis greeted the burghers, whom he found waiting, with a familiar cordiality, well calculated to win their hearts, without diminishing his own dignity. The Marshal of Burgundy, on the contrary, spoke not; but looked on them with a grim and somewhat contemptuous smile; muttering between his teeth, with all the haughtiness of a feudal noble of that day, "The rascallion communes! they are dressed as proudly as lords of the first degree!"

Notwithstanding his offensive pride, yet untamed by years, the Lord of Neufchatel was far from treating the burghers with any real unkindness; and, after the whole party had mounted, and left the castle of Hannut, he gratified himself every now and then by a sneer, it is true; but, whenever any occasion presented itself for contributing to their comfort, or rendering them a substantial service, the natural courtesy of a chivalrous heart got the better of the prejudices of education. At an after period, indeed, he went still further, and greatly changed his demeanour towards the people of the towns; but at present, his pride offended more than his services pleased; and when, after a quiet and uninterrupted journey, the two parties separated at Cortenbergh, though the Marshal left them as a set of men on whom he should never waste another thought, they remembered him long as one of those haughty tyrants whose insults and oppression often goaded the people into tumults, though the time was not yet come for a successful struggle for emancipation.

From Cortenbergh, the Dauphin and his companions rode on towards Brussels, sending forward a messenger to inform the Duke of Burgundy of their approach; but, before they reached the gates of the town, they received information that the prince whom they sought was even then in the field against the people of Utrecht. Nevertheless, as a safe asylum in Brussels was all that Louis demanded, he rode on upon his way; and, being admitted at once within the walls of the town, proceeded towards the palace. His coming had been notified to the Duchess Isabelle: and on arriving at the barriers which at that time separated the dwelling of every prince or great noble from the common streets of the town, he found that princess, together with the young and beautiful Countess of Charolois--the wife of him afterwards famous as Charles the Bold--waiting to do honour to the heir of the French throne. No sooner did he perceive them, than, springing from his horse, he advanced with courtly grace, and gallantly saluted the cheek of every one of the fair bevy who had descended to welcome him; and then, offering his arm to the Duchess, wished to lead her into the palace. But this method of proceeding was not at all permitted by the mistress of the most ceremonious court, at that time, in Europe; and a series of formal courtesies began and endured for a mortal half hour, such as would have slain any queen in modern Europe. At length, the resistance of the Duchess was vanquished by the Dauphin taking her by the hand, and thus leading her forward, as he exclaimed, "Nay, nay, lady, you are overceremonious towards one who is now the poorest gentleman of all the realm of France, and knows not where to find a refuge, except with you and my fair uncle of Burgundy."

We might now pursue Louis XI. through all his cunning intrigues at the court of Burgundy; for, though then a young man, with the ardent blood of youth mingling strangely, in his veins, with the cold serpent-like sanies of policy, yet his nature was the same artful nature then that it appeared in after-years: and treachery and artifice were as familiar to his mind while combined with the passions and follies of early life, as they were when connected with the superstitions and weaknesses of his age.

At present, however, it is neither with Louis nor with the Duke of Burgundy, nor with his warlike son, that we have principally to do, but rather with the young Countess of Charolois, then in that interesting situation when the hopes of a husband and a nation are fixed upon a coming event, which, with danger to the mother, is to give an heir to the throne and to the love of both sovereign and people.

The subjects of Burgundy watched anxiously, till at length, in the month of February, on St. Valentine's eve, was born Mary of Burgundy--the only child that ever blessed the bed of Charles the Bold. The baptism was appointed to take place as soon as possible: and the Dauphin was invited to hold at the font the infant princess, much of whose after-being his ambition was destined to render miserable. Now, however, all was joy and festivity; and magnificent presents, and splendid preparations, evinced how much the Flemish citizens shared, or would have seemed to share, in the happiness of their duke and his family. Even the people of Utrecht, so lately in rebellion, vied with Bruges and Brussels, Ghent and Ypres, in offering rich testimonies of their gladness; and Brussels itself was one scene of gorgeous splendour during the whole day of the christening. The centre of the great street, from the palace to the church of Cobergh, was enclosed within railings breast-high; and towards night, four hundred of the citizens, holding lighted torches of pure wax in their hands, were stationed along the line. A hundred servants of the house of Burgundy, furnished also with torches, lined the aisles of the church, and a hundred more were soon seen issuing from the palace gates, followed by as splendid a cortege as the world ever beheld. The Duchess of Burgundy herself, supported by the Dauphin, carried her son's child to the font; and all the nobles of that brilliant court followed on foot to the church.

It is not necessary here to describe the pompous ceremonies of that day, as they are written at full in the very elaborate account given by Eleonore of Poitiers. Suffice it to say, such joy and profusion never before reigned in Brussels. The streets of the city flowed with wine, and blazed with bonfires. Every rich citizen gathered round his glowing hearth all the friends and relations of his house. Comfits and spiced hippocras fumed in every dwelling; and the christening of Mary of Burgundy became an epoch of rejoicing in the memory of men.

One event of that night, however, must be noticed. The fate of the city of Ghent, whose project of revolt had, in spite of all precautions, become known to the Duke Philip, had been left in the hands of the Count of Charolois, that prince's son; and a deputation from what were then called the three members of Ghent--that is to say,[2] from the burghers and nobles, from the united trades, and from the incorporation of weavers--were even then in Brussels, for the purpose of imploring mercy and forgiveness. The young Count, whose hasty and passionate nature was prone to be irritated by anything that hurried or excited him, had been in such a state of fretful impatience during the preparations for the baptism of his child, that his wiser counsellors, who wished much that he should deal clemently with the Gandois, had concealed their arrival, in hopes of a more favourable moment presenting itself.

They were not, indeed, deceived in this expectation; and, after the ceremony was over, and all the splendour he could have wished had been displayed, without cloud or spot, on the christening of his child, the heart of the Count seemed to expand, and he gave himself up entirely to the joy of the occasion. His friends and attendants determined to seize the moment while this favourable mood continued. After the infant had been carried back from the church and presented to its mother, and after the cup and sweetmeats had been handed with formal ceremony to each of the guests, the Lord of Ravestein called the Prince's attention to a petition he held from his father's humble vassals, the citizens of Ghent; and seeing that he received the paper with a smile, he added the information that the deputies were even then waiting anxiously without, in what was termed the chambre de parement. The Count's brow instantly became clouded; but, without answering, he beckoned Ravestein, and several others, to follow him out of the Countess's chamber, in which this conversation had taken place, and at once entered the apartment in which the burghers were assembled. There was something in the stern haste of his stride, as he advanced into the room, which boded little good to the supplicants; and his brow gave anything but a favourable presage.

The deputation consisted of about twenty persons, chosen from all ranks; and amongst them were two or three who had followed to the presence of the prince, from motives of curiosity, and a desire, for once, to see the splendours of a royal court, though the reception of the whole party was not likely to be very gratifying. Amongst the principal personages of the deputation appeared our good friend Martin Fruse, who had brought with him his nephew, Albert Maurice; and most of the other persons whom we have seen with him in the forest of Hannut bore him company also on the present occasion. Though the burghers of Ghent were sufficiently accustomed to harangue each other, either in the town-house or the market-place, and had a good conceit of their own powers of oratory, yet fear, which, of all the affections of the human mind, is the greatest promoter of humility, had so completely lessened their confidence in their own gift of eloquence, that, instead of intrusting the supplications they were about to make to one of their own body, they had hired a professional advocate, from a different town, to plead their cause before their offended prince.

"Range out, Messires, range out!" were the first ungracious words of the Count of Charolois; "range out, and let me see the lovely faces of the men who would fain have excited our father's subjects to revolt."

By his orders, the deputies from Ghent were arranged in a semicircle before him; and, according to etiquette, the whole party dropped upon one knee; though some went farther, and bent both to the ground. In the meantime, their advocate pronounced a long, florid, and frothy harangue, after the manner of that day, and calling David, Solomon, and many others, both sacred and profane, to his aid, as examples of clemency, besought the Count to show mercy to the repentant citizens of Ghent.

The heir of Burgundy appeared to give little attention to the studied and unnatural oration of the advocate, but continued rolling his eyes over the countenances of the supplicants, with a bent brow, and a smile, which--as a smile always proceeds from some pleasurable emotion--could only arise from the gratification of pride and revenge, at the state of abasement to which he saw the revolted Gandois reduced.

When the orator had concluded, the Count replied:--"Men of Ghent, I have heard that in all time ye have been turbulent, discontented, factious, like a snarling cur that snaps at the hand that feeds it, but crouches beneath the lash: think not that you shall escape without due punishment; for know, that it is as much the duty of a prince to punish the criminal, as to protect the innocent."

He paused, and no one ventured to reply, except the boy Albert Maurice, who, grasping the hilt of the small dagger, which persons of almost all ages or ranks then wore, muttered, in a tone not quite inaudible, the words "Insolent tyrant."

Whether these words caught the ear of any one else or not, they were, at all events, loud enough to reach that of the Count of Charolois; and, taking one stride forward, he struck the youth a blow, with the palm of his open hand, which laid him almost senseless on the ground.

A momentary confusion now ensued; the nobles and attendants interposed, to prevent any farther act of unprincely violence; the boy was hurried away out of the room; several of the deputies made their escape, fearing the immediate consequences of the prince's fury; and the Count of Ravestein endeavoured to persuade his cousin, Charles of Burgundy, to quit the apartment, terrified lest he should proceed to measures which would throw the Gandois into open rebellion.

He was mistaken, however; the rage of the Count had evaporated in the blow he had struck; and, somewhat ashamed of the act of passion he had committed, he endeavoured to make it seem, both to himself and to those around him, not the effect of hasty wrath--which it really was--but the deliberate punishment of an insolent boy.

To Ravestein's remonstrances and entreaties for him to leave the apartment, he replied by a loud laugh, demanding, "Thinkest thou I could be moved to serious anger by a malapert lad like that? He spoke like a spoiled boy, and I have given him the chastisement suited to a spoiled boy; with these men of Ghent, I shall deal as towards men."

He was about to proceed, and was resuming the stern air with which he had formerly addressed the deputies, when the Dauphin, stepping forward, spoke to him in a low tone, as if to prevent his intercession from being apparent, though his gesture and manner were quite sufficient to show the burghers that he was pleading in their behalf. The Count of Charolois had not yet learned all the intricate duplicity of Louis's character, and took it for granted that, while he interceded for the people of Ghent, he did really--as he affected to do--desire that they should be ignorant of his generous efforts in their favour.

"Well, be it so, my princely cousin," he replied, smoothing his ruffled brow; "the godfather of my child shall not be refused his first request to me, upon the very day of her baptism; but, by my faith! the honour of this good act shall rest where it is due--with you, not with me. Know, men of Ghent, that you have a better advocate here, than this man of many words, whom you have brought to plead your cause. My noble cousin, Louis of France, condescends to intercede for you, and ye shall be pardoned upon the payment of a moderate fine. But, remember! offend not again; for, by the Lord that lives! if ye do, I will hang ten of each of your estates over the gates of the city. What have ye there?" he added, suddenly, pointing to some large objects, wrapped in violet-coloured linen, and carried by two or three stout attendants, who had followed the men of Ghent to the prince's presence; "what have ye there?"

"A humble offering, my lord the Count," replied Martin Fruse, rising from his knees, and walking towards the object which had attracted the attention of the Count of Charolois; "a humble offering from the city of Ghent to our noble Count, upon the birth of his fair daughter; though that foolish advocate forgot to mention all about it in his speech."

"Well for ye that he did so!" exclaimed the Count; "for had he attempted to bribe me to forget justice, I doubt much whether one of the deputies of Ghent would have quitted these palace walls alive."

"But only look at them, my lord the Count," said Martin Fruse, whose all-engrossing admiration of the rich presents they had brought made him insensible to the stern tone in which the prince had been speaking. "Only look at them; they are so beautiful;" and so saying, he removed the linen which covered them, and exposed to view three large and richly chased vases of massive silver. Certainly their effect upon all present very well justified the commendations which he had bestowed upon their beauty, and his censure of the advocate for not mentioning them before.

Both Charles of Burgundy and the Dauphin took an involuntary step forward, to look at them more nearly. But the eyes of Louis, who was fonder of the examination of the human heart, than of the finest piece of workmanship ever produced by the hands of man, were soon turned to the face of his cousin; and, as he marked the evident admiration which was therein expressed, he said, with a frank laugh, which covered well the sneer that was lurking in his speech--"By my faith! fair cousin, I think the advocate was in the wrong."

"Good troth, but I think so too," replied the Count, joining in the laugh. "Well, my friends," he continued, addressing the deputies in a very different tone from that which he had formerly used; "get you gone, and be cautious for the future how ye listen to the delusive words of vain and ambitious men: the master of our household will see that ye are well entertained with white bread, good wine, and all the dainties of a christening; and as for the boy I struck," he added, taking a gold brooch or fermail from the bosom of his own vest, and putting it into the hands of Martin Fruse, "give him that to heal the blow. There, set down the vases on that table. We thank you for them; and by our faith! we will show them to our lady there within."

With many a lowly reverence the men of Ghent withdrew, very well satisfied to have obtained pardon on easy terms. Young Albert Maurice was found below, fully recovered from the blow he had received; but it was in no degree effaced from his memory. His uncle immediately presented him with the rich brooch which the Count had sent, never doubting but the boy would be delighted with the present; but, the moment he received it, he dashed it down upon the ground, and setting his foot upon it, trampled it to atoms.

What he muttered at the same time was unheard by any one but his uncle. The effect upon him, however, was such as to turn him deadly pale; and after having tasted of the Count's wine, that he might not be suspected of disaffection, he hurried his nephew away to the house of a friendly citizen of Brussels, miserable, to all appearance, till he had got the boy beyond the walls of the palace.



Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

Подняться наверх