Mrs. Humphry Ward - "Harvest"

Various - "Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. CCCXXXIX. January, 1844. Vol. LV."

Various - "Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 99., December 27, 1890"

C.W. Leadbeater - "A Textbook of Theosophy"

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The Duc d'Anjou now entered Belgium, and was well received. Philippe's
promise, however, bore its fruits; for in the midst of a fete, a pistol
shot was heard; William fell, and was believed dead; but he recovered.
The shot had been fired by Jean Jaureguy.

The Flemings then, on William's advice, elected Francois, duc of
Brabant, sovereign prince of Flanders. Elizabeth of England saw in this
a method of reuniting the Calvinists of Flanders and France to those of
England--perhaps she dreamed of a triple crown. William, however, took
care to hold the Duc d'Anjou in check, and to counteract the execution
of any design which would have given him too much power in Flanders.
Philippe II. called the Duc de Guise to his aid, on the strength of a
treaty which had been entered into by him with Don John of Austria.
Henri of Guise consented, and it was then that Lorraine and Spain sent
Salcede to the Duc d'Anjou to assassinate him, which would have suited
the views of both; but Salcede, as we know, was arrested and executed
without having carried his project into execution.

Francois advanced but slowly, however, in Flanders, for the people were
more than half afraid of him; he grew impatient, and determined to lay
siege to Antwerp, which had invited his aid against Farnese, but when he
wished to enter had turned its guns against him. This was the position
of the Duc d'Anjou at the time when our story rejoins him, on the day
after the arrival of Joyeuse and his fleet.




CHAPTER LXII.

PREPARATIONS FOR BATTLE.


The camp of the new Duke of Brabant was situated on the banks of the
Scheldt, and the army, although well disciplined, was agitated by a
spirit easy to understand.

Indeed, many Calvinists assisted the duke, not from sympathy for him,
but in order to be as disagreeable as possible to Spain and to the
Catholics of France and England; they fought rather from self-love than
from conviction or devotion, and it was certain that, the campaign once
over, they would abandon their leader or impose conditions on him. With
regard to these conditions, the duke always gave them to understand that
when the time came he should be ready, and was constantly saying, "Henri
of Navarre made himself a Catholic, why should not I become a Huguenot?"
On the opposite side, on the contrary, there existed a perfect unity of
feeling. Antwerp had intended to give entrance to him, at her own time
and on her own conditions.

All at once they saw a fleet appear at the mouth of the Scheldt, and
they learned that this fleet was brought by the high admiral of France,
to aid the Duc d'Anjou, whom they now began to look upon as their enemy.
The Calvinists of the duke were little better pleased than the Flemings
at the sight. They were very brave, but very jealous: and they did not
wish others to come and clip their laurels, particularly swords which
had slain so many Huguenots on the day of the St. Bartholomew. From this
proceeded many quarrels, which began on the very evening of their
arrival, and continued all the next day.

From their ramparts, the Antwerpians had every day the spectacle of a
dozen duels between Catholics and Protestants; and they threw into the
river as many dead as a combat might have cost the French. If the siege
of Antwerp, like that of Troy, had lasted nine years, the besieged need
have done nothing but look at the assailants, who would certainly have
destroyed themselves. Francois acted the part of mediator, but not
without great difficulty; he had made promises to the Huguenots, and
could not offend them without offending at the same time all Flanders.
On the other hand, to offend the Catholics sent by the king to aid him
would be most impolitic. The arrival of this re-enforcement, on which
the duke himself had not reckoned, filled the Spaniards and the Guises
with rage. However, all these different opinions interfered sadly with
the discipline of the duke's army. Joyeuse, who we know had never liked
the mission, was annoyed to find among these men such antagonistic
opinions, and felt instinctively that the time for success was past, and
both as an idle courtier and as a captain, grumbled at having come so
far only to meet with defeat. He declared loudly that the Duc d'Anjou
had been wrong in laying siege to Antwerp, and argued that to possess a
great city with its own consent was a real advantage; but that to take
by assault the second capital of his future states was to expose himself
to the dislike of the Flemings; and Joyeuse knew the Flemings too well
not to feel sure that if the duke did take Antwerp, sooner or later they
would revenge themselves with usury. This opinion Joyeuse did not
hesitate to declare in the duke's tent.

While the council was held among his captains, the duke was lying on a
couch and listening, not to the advice of the admiral, but to the
whispers of Aurilly. This man, by his cowardly compliances, his base
flatteries, and his continual assiduities, had secured the favor of the
prince. With his lute, his love messages, and his exact information
about all the persons and all the intrigues of the court--with his
skillful maneuvers for drawing into the prince's net whatever prey he
might wish for, he had made a large fortune, while he remained to all
appearance the poor luteplayer. His influence was immense, because it
was secret.

Joyeuse, seeing the duke talking to Aurilly, stopped short. The duke,
who had, after all, been paying more attention than he seemed to do,
asked him what was the matter. "Nothing, monseigneur; I am only waiting
until your highness is at liberty to listen to me."

"Oh! but I do listen, M. de Joyeuse. Do you think I cannot listen to
two people at once, when Caesar dictated seven letters at a time?"

"Monseigneur," said Joyeuse, with a glance at the musician, "I am no
singer to need an accompaniment when I speak."

"Very good, duke; be quiet, Aurilly. Then you disapprove of a coup de
main on Antwerp?"--"Yes, monseigneur."

"I adopted this plan in council, however."

"Therefore, monseigneur, I speak with much hesitation, after so many
distinguished captains."

And Joyeuse, courtier-like, bowed to all. Many voices were instantly
raised to agree with the admiral.

"Comte de St. Aignan," said the prince to one of his bravest colonels,
"you are not of the opinion of M. de Joyeuse?"

"Yes, monseigneur, I am."

"Oh! I thought as you made a grimace--"

Every one laughed but Joyeuse, who said, "If M. de St. Aignan generally
gives his advice in that manner, it is not very polite, that is all."

"M. de Joyeuse," replied St. Aignan, "his highness is wrong to reproach
me with an infirmity contracted in his service. At the taking of
Cateau-Cambresis I received a blow on the head, and since that time my
face is subject to nervous contractions, which occasion those grimaces
of which his highness complains. This is not an excuse that I give you,
M. de Joyeuse; it is an explanation," said the count, proudly.

"No, monsieur," said Joyeuse, "it is a reproach that you make, and you
are right."

The blood mounted to the face of Duc Francois.

"And to whom is this reproach addressed?" said he.

"To me, probably, monseigneur."

"Why should St. Aignan reproach you, whom he does not know?"

"Because I believed for a moment that M. de St. Aignan cared so little
for your highness as to counsel you to assault Antwerp."

"But," cried the prince, "I must settle my position in the country. I
am Duke of Brabant and Count of Flanders, in name, and I must be so in
reality. This William, who is gone I know not where, spoke to me of a
kingdom. Where is this kingdom?--in Antwerp. Where is he?--probably in
Antwerp also; therefore we must take Antwerp, and we shall know how we
stand."

"Oh! monseigneur, you know it now, or you are, in truth, a worse
politician than I thought you. Who counseled you to take Antwerp?--the
Prince of Orange. Who disappeared at the moment of taking the
field?--the Prince of Orange. Who, while he made your highness Duke of
Brabant, reserved for himself the lieutenant-generalship of the
duchy?--the Prince of Orange. Whose interest is it to ruin the Spaniards
by you, and you by the Spaniards?--the Prince of Orange. Who will
replace you, who will succeed, if he does not do so already?--the Prince
of Orange? Oh! monseigneur, in following his counsels you have but
annoyed the Flemings. Let a reverse come, and all those who do not dare
to look you now in the face will run after you like those timid dogs who
run after those who fly."

"What! you imagine that I can be beaten by wool-merchants and
beer-drinkers?"

"These wool-merchants and these beer-drinkers have given plenty to do to
Philippe de Valois, the Emperor Charles V., and Philippe II., who were
three princes placed sufficiently high, monseigneur, for the comparison
not to be disagreeable to you."

"Then you fear a repulse?"

"Yes, monseigneur, I do."

"You will not be there, M. de Joyeuse."

"Why not?"

"Because you can hardly have such doubts of your own bravery as already
to see yourself flying before the Flemings. In any case, reassure
yourself, these prudent merchants have the habit, when they march to
battle, of cumbering themselves with such heavy armor that they would
never catch you if you did run."

"Monseigneur, I do not doubt my own courage. I shall be in the front,
but I shall be beaten there, as the others who are behind will be."

"But your reasoning is not logical, M. de Joyeuse; you approve of my
taking the lesser places."

"I approve of your taking those that do not defend themselves."

"And then I am to draw back from the great city because she talks of
defending herself?"

"Better than to march on to destruction."

"Well, I will not retreat."

"Your highness must do as you like; and we are here to obey."

"Prove to me that I am wrong."

"Monseigneur, see the army of the Prince of Orange. It was yours, was it
not? Well, instead of sitting down before Antwerp with you, it is in
Antwerp, which is very different. William, you say, was your friend and
counselor; and now you not only do not know where he is, but you believe
him to be changed into an enemy. See the Flemings--when you arrived they
were pleased to see you; now they shut their gates at your sight, and
prepare their cannon at your approach, not less than if you were the Duc
d'Alva. Well! I tell you, Flemings and Dutch, Antwerp and Orange, only
wait for an opportunity to unite against you, and that opportunity will
be when you order your artillery to fire."

"Well, we will fight at once Flemings and Dutch, Antwerp and Orange."

"No, monseigneur, we have but just men enough to attack Antwerp,
supposing we have only the inhabitants to deal with; and while we are
engaged in the assault, William will fall on us with his eternal eight
or ten thousand men, always destroyed and always reappearing by the aid
of which be has kept in check during ten or twelve years the Duc d'Alva,
Requesens, and the Duc de Parma."

"Then you persist in thinking that we shall be beaten?"

"I do."

"Well, it is easy for you to avoid it, M. de Joyeuse," said the prince
angrily; "my brother sent you here to aid me, but I may dismiss you,
saying that I do not need aid."

"Your highness may say so, but I would not retire on the eve of a
battle."

"Well, my dear admiral," said the duke, trying to conciliate, "I may
have been too jealous of the honor of my name, and wished too much to
prove the superiority of the French army, and I may have been wrong. But
the evil is done; we are before armed men--before men who now refuse
what they themselves offered. Am I to yield to them? To-morrow they
would begin to retake, bit by bit, what I have already conquered. No!
the sword is drawn; let us strike, or they will strike first. That is my
opinion."

"When your highness speaks thus," said Joyeuse, "I will say no more. I
am here to obey you, and will do so with all my heart, whether you lead
me to death or victory; and yet--but I will say no more."--"Speak."

"No, I have said enough."

"No, I wish to hear."

"In private then, if it please your highness."

All rose and retired to the other end of the spacious tent.

"Speak," said Francois.

"Monseigneur may care little for a check from Spain, a check which will
render triumphant those drinkers of Flemish beer, or this double-faced
Prince of Orange; but will you bear so patiently the laughter of M. de
Guise?"

Francois frowned.

"What has M. de Guise to do with it?" said he.

"M. de Guise tried to have you assassinated, monseigneur; Salcede
confessed it at the torture, and, if I mistake not, he plays a great
part in all this, and he will be delighted to see you receive a check
before Antwerp, or even perhaps to obtain, for nothing, that death of a
son of France, for which he had promised to pay so dearly to Salcede.
Read the history of Flanders, monseigneur, and you will see that the
Flemings are in the habit of enriching their soil with the blood of
princes, and of the best French warriors."

The duke shook his head.

"Well, Joyeuse," said he, "I will give, if it must be, the cursed joy to
the Lorraines of seeing me dead, but not that of seeing me flying. I
thirst for glory, Joyeuse; for alone of all my name, I have still my
battles to win."

"You forget Cateau Cambresis, monseigneur."

"Compare that with Jarnac and Montcontour, Joyeuse." Then, turning to
the others, who were standing far off, he said, "Gentlemen, the assault
is still resolved on; the rain has ceased, the ground is good, we will
make the attack this night." Joyeuse bowed.

"Will your highness give full directions? we wait for them," said he.

"You have eight vessels, without counting the admiral's ship, have you
not, M. de Joyeuse?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"You will force the line; the thing will be easy, the Antwerpians have
only merchant vessels in the port; then you will bring them to bear upon
the fort. Then, if the quay is defended, you will attempt a landing with
your 1,500 men. Of the rest of the army I will make two columns: one
commanded by M. de St. Aignan, the other by myself. Both will attempt an
escalade by surprise, at the moment when the first cannon-shot is fired.

"The cavalry will remain in position, in case of a repulse, to protect
the retreating columns. Of these three attacks, one must surely succeed.
The first column which gains the ramparts will fire a rocket to let the
others know."

"But one must think of everything, monseigneur," said Joyeuse; "and
supposing all three attacks should fail?"

"Then we must gain the vessels under the protection of our batteries."

All bowed.

"Now, gentlemen, silence," said the duke; "wake the sleeping troops, and
embark; but let not a shot reveal our design. You will be in the port,
admiral, before the Antwerpians suspect your intention. We shall go
along the left bank, and shall arrive at the same time as yourself. Go,
gentlemen, and good courage; our former good luck will not fail to
follow us over the Scheldt."

The captains quitted the prince's tent, and gave their orders with the
indicated precautions.




CHAPTER LXIII.

MONSEIGNEUR.


However, the Antwerpians did not quietly see the hostile preparations of
the Duc d'Anjou, and Joyeuse was not wrong in attributing to them all
the enmity possible. Antwerp was like a beehive at night, calm on the
exterior, but within full of movement and murmur.

The Flemings in arms patroled the streets, barricaded their houses, and
fraternized with the battalions of the Prince of Orange, of whom part
were already in garrison there, while the other part entered the city in
fractions.

When all was ready for a vigorous defense, the Prince of Orange, on a
dark and moonless night, entered the city quietly, and went to the Hotel
de Ville, where his confidants had everything ready for his reception.
There he received all the deputies of the bourgeoisie, passed in review
the officers of the paid troops, and communicated his plans to them, the
chief of which was to profit by this movement of the Duc d'Anjou to
break with him. The duke had done just what William wished to bring him
to, and he saw with pleasure this new competitor for the sovereignty
ruin himself, like so many others.

William would have taken the offensive, but the governor objected, and
determined to wait for the arrival of monseigneur.

Nine o'clock in the evening sounded, and the uncertainty became real
anxiety, some scouts having protested that they had seen a movement in
the French camp. A little flat boat had been sent on the Scheldt to
reconnoiter, for the Antwerpians were less unquiet as to what would
occur by land than by sea; but the bark had not returned. William became
more and more impatient, when the door of the hall opened, and a valet
appeared and announced "Monseigneur." As he spoke, a man, tall and
imperious-looking, wearing with supreme grace the cloak which entirely
enveloped him, entered the hall, and saluted courteously those who were
there. But at the first glance, his eye, proud and piercing, sought out
the prince in the midst of his officers.

He went straight up to him and offered him his hand, which the prince
pressed with affection, and almost with respect.

They called each other "Monseigneur." After this the unknown took off
his cloak. He was dressed in a buff doublet, and had high leather boots;
he was armed with a long sword, which seemed to make part of himself, so
easily it hung, and with a little dagger, which was passed through his
belt. His boots were covered with mud and dust, and his spurs were red
with the blood of his horse. He took his place at the table.

"Well, where are we?" asked he.

"Monseigneur," replied William, "you must have seen, in coming here,
that the streets were barricaded."

"I saw that."

"And the houses loopholed?"

"I did not see that; but it is a good plan."

"And the sentries doubled?"

"Does not monseigneur approve of these preparations for defense?" said a
voice, in a tone of anxious disappointment.

"Yes; but, however, I do not believe that in our circumstances it will
be useful; it fatigues the soldier and disquiets the bourgeois. You have
a plan of attack and defense, I suppose?"

"We waited to communicate them to monseigneur," said the burgomaster.

"Speak then."

"Monseigneur arrived rather late, and I was obliged to act meanwhile,"
said William.

"And you did right, monseigneur; besides, whatever you do, you do well.
But I have not lost my time on the road, either."

"We know by our spies," said the burgomaster, "that a movement is
preparing in the French camp; they are making ready for an attack, but
as we do not know on which side it will come, we have disposed the guns
so that they may be equally distributed over the whole rampart."

"That is wise," replied the unknown, with a slight smile to William, who
held his tongue, and let the bourgeois speak of war.

"We have done the same with our civic guards; they are spread over the
whole wall, and have orders to run at once to the point of attack.
However, it is the opinion of the greater number of our members that it
is impossible that the French meditate anything but a feigned attack."

"And what purpose would that serve?"

"To intimidate us, and induce us to admit them amicably."

The stranger looked again at the Prince of Orange, who listened to all
this in the most careless manner, which almost amounted to disdain.

"However," said another voice, "some fancied they could distinguish
preparations for attack in the camp this evening."

"Mere suspicions," said the burgomaster; "I examined the camp myself
with an excellent spy-glass. The men were preparing for sleep, and the
duke was dining in his tent."

The unknown threw a new glance at the prince, and fancied that this time
he gave a slight smile.

"Gentlemen," said the unknown, "you are in error; a regular assault is
preparing against you, and your plans, however good, are incomplete."

"But, monseigneur--"

"Incomplete in this, that you expect an attack, and have prepared to
meet it."

"Certainly."

"Well, it is you who will make the attack, not wait for it, if you will
trust to me."--"Ah!" cried William, "that is something like speaking."

"At this moment," said the stranger, who saw that he might reckon on the
prince's support, "the ships of M. de Joyeuse are getting ready."

"How do you know that, monseigneur?" cried many voices together.

"I know it," replied he.

A murmur of doubt was half uttered, but the stranger caught it.

"Do you doubt it?" asked he, in the tone of a man accustomed to control
all fears, prejudices, and self-loves.

"We do not doubt it if your highness says it; but if you will permit us
to observe--"

"Speak."

"That if it were so we should have had tidings of it."

"How so?"--"By our spies."




CHAPTER LXIV.

MONSEIGNEUR.


At this moment another man entered the hall, and came forward
respectfully.

"Ah! it is you, my friend," said the burgomaster.

"Myself, monsieur," replied the man.

"Monseigneur," said the burgomaster, "it is the man whom we sent to
reconnoiter."

At the word "monseigneur," addressed not to the Prince of Orange, the
new comer made a movement of surprise and joy, and advanced quickly to
see better who was designated by this title. He was one of those Flemish
sailors, of whom the type is so recognizable, being marked, a square
head, blue eyes, short neck, and broad shoulders; he crushed in his
large hands his woolen cap, and as he advanced he left behind him a line
of wet, for his clothes were dripping with water.

"Oh! here is a brave man who has swum back," said monseigneur, looking
at the man with his accustomed air of authority.

"Yes, monseigneur, yes; and the Scheldt is broad and rapid," said the
sailor, eagerly.

"Speak, Goes, speak," said monseigneur, knowing how a sailor would prize
being thus called by his name.

Thus from that minute Goes addressed himself to the unknown exclusively;
although, having been sent by another, it was to him that he should have
given an account of his mission.

"Monseigneur," said he, "I set out in my smallest bark and passed, by
giving the word, through all our ships, and reached those cursed French.
Ah! pardon, monseigneur."

The stranger smiled and said, "Never mind, I am but half French, so
should be but half cursed."

"Then monseigneur pardons me?"

He nodded, and Goes went on.

"While I rowed in the dark with my oars wrapped in cloth, I heard a
voice crying, 'Hola! bark, what do you want?' I thought it was to me
that the question was addressed, and was about to reply something or
other, when I heard some one cry behind me, 'Admiral's boat.'"

Monseigneur looked at the council.

"At the same moment," continued Gues, "I felt a shock; my bark was
swamped, and I fell into the water, but the waves of the Scheldt knew me
for an old acquaintance, and threw me up again. It was the admiral's
boat taking M. de Joyeuse on board, and which had passed over me; God
only knows how I was not crushed or drowned."

"Thanks, brave Goes, thanks," said the Prince of Orange, putting a purse
into his hand. However, the sailor seemed to wait for his dismissal from
the stranger, who gave him a friendly nod, which he valued more than the
prince's present.

"Well," said monseigneur to the burgomaster, "what do you say of this
report? Do you still doubt that the French are preparing, and do you
believe that it was to pass the night on board that M. de Joyeuse was
leaving the camp for his ship?"

"But you are a diviner, then, monseigneur," cried the bourgeois.

"Not more than Monseigneur the Prince of Orange, who is in all things of
my opinion, I am sure. But I, like him, was well informed, and know well
those on the other side, so that I should have been much astonished had
they not attacked to-night. Then be ready, gentlemen, for if you give
them time, the attack will be serious."

"These gentlemen will do me the justice to own," said the prince, "that
before your arrival I held exactly the same language to them that you
now do."

"But," said the burgomaster, "why does monseigneur believe that the
attack is about to commence?"

"Here are the probabilities. The infantry is Catholic; it will fight
alone; that is, on one side. The cavalry is Calvinist; they will fight
alone on another side. The navy is under M. de Joyeuse, from Paris, who
will take his share of the combat and the glory. That is three sides."

"Then let us form three corps," said the burgomaster.

"Make only one, gentlemen, with all your best soldiers, and leave any of
whom you may be doubtful in close fight to guard your walls. Then with
this body make a vigorous sally when Francois least expects it. They
mean to attack; let them be forestalled, and attacked themselves. If you
wait for their assault you are lost, for no one equals the French at an
attack, as you, gentlemen, have no equals at defending your towns."

The Flemings looked radiant.

"What did I say, gentlemen?" said William.

"It is a great honor," said the unknown, "to have been, without knowing
it, of the same opinion as the greatest captain of the age."