The Blacksmith's Hammer, or The Peasant Code Part 6

"I told you a minute ago, the people was wrong to believe me guilty of treachery, but the error is pardonable. My acts seem to bear witness against me. When the Republic saw me, my brother and my friends exert all our power to induce it to ally itself with Louis XIV, offering ourselves as a guarantee of the prince's good faith in his promises, the Republic placed confidence in us, and the alliance was concluded.

To-day, we but suffer the consequences of the treason of Louis XIV."

John De Witt paused for a moment and then proceeded:

"But however great the iniquity of which I am a victim, do not pity me.

My conscience is clear; I know I have lived the life of an honorable man and a good citizen. Should G.o.d call me to Him to-morrow, I shall go, serenely, and await his judgment. That, my son, is the moral of the lesson."

As John De Witt was uttering these last words, listened to devoutly by Nominoe, Monsieur Tilly entered precipitately into the apartment.

CHAPTER VI.

CORNELIUS DE WITT.

Monsieur Tilly, dressed in full uniform, wore the distinctive signs of his rank--a high collar and a scarf. He was pale, and so visibly disturbed that, struck by his appearance, John De Witt asked with alarm:

"My friend--you must be the bearer of tidings that portend some public calamity?"

"A great calamity!" answered Monsieur Tilly with a faltering voice. "An irreparable calamity!"

"What has happened?" inquired John De Witt. "What are the frightful tidings that you bring me?" And looking towards Salaun Lebrenn and his son he added: "These friends are countrymen of Monsieur Serdan's. You may speak freely before them."

"My friend," said Monsieur Tilly, hardly able to control his emotions, "you must leave The Hague this very day--you must depart within an hour, if possible. You must flee!"

"Flee!" cried John De Witt astounded. "Flee like a criminal! And why should I leave The Hague?"

"You must leave! Go quickly, I implore you, in the name of your wife and daughters. Depart!"

"Tilly," replied John De Witt. "I am not devoid of courage. I should at least know the cause of your alarm!"

"Yes; you have a strong soul; yes, you sustain the blows of adversity with the serenity of an upright man--but however strong your soul, it is at the same time susceptible of great tenderness for the objects of your affection--you feel the smart of the blows that strike them--and--"

"My brother!" cried John De Witt turning pale and breaking in upon Monsieur Tilly. "It is about my brother!"

"Ask me no more questions--embrace your wife and daughters--and leave The Hague on the spot--you must not delay an instant!"

"But my brother--my dear and good brother--what has befallen him?"

"In G.o.d's name, spend no time with questions--depart--a few minutes more and it will be too late."

A tremor ran over John De Witt's frame. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and overpowering his emotion, bowed to Salaun Lebrenn and his son, saying to them in a firm voice: "You will have to excuse me, my friends, if I leave you. I can not remain any longer in this painful uncertainty regarding my brother's fate. I shall hurry to the castle, where he is confined."

"John!" broke in Monsieur Tilly, throwing himself in the way of the Grand Pensionary of Holland. "You shall not go there! By G.o.d! You shall not go to the castle--I shall tell you all--"

"They have killed him!" cried John De Witt in heartrending accents.

"Unhappy me, they have killed him!"

"No," replied Monsieur Tilly in despair; "no, I a.s.sure you, Cornelius is not dead!"

This a.s.surance allayed the poignancy of John De Witt's anxiety. But still staggering under the blow of his terrible apprehension, he felt his knees give way under him, and he leaned on the edge of the table, unable to articulate a word. Salaun Lebrenn and his son stood in consternation, dreading some great misfortune, and looked at Monsieur Tilly with uneasy curiosity, while Serdan said to him in a low voice: "Alas! A moment ago John De Witt felt perfectly at ease on the score of the charge against his brother. I dared not mention to him the fears that you expressed to me this morning."

Serdan broke off as he heard John De Witt say to Tilly in a calm voice: "Pardon my weakness, my friend. There are unexpected blows that take one by surprise, and floor him. Thanks to G.o.d, my brother still lives.

Speak, I listen."

"As late as this morning I was as certain as yourself of the worthlessness of the charges preferred against Cornelius. I was in that frame of mind until I met an officer of the bourgeois militia that guards the prison, and who is of our party. From him I learned of the wild popular exasperation against yourself, your brother and the French party, who are considered accomplices in the ferocities committed by the troops of Louis XIV, and that this exasperation was a.s.suming such a violent aspect that the tribunal, before which Cornelius was to be tried and which consists of bitter Orangemen, decided, with a view of satisfying the blind popular rage,--decided," repeated Monsieur Tilly with a shudder, "to submit your brother to the torture, and compel him to confess his crime. The atrocious project has been carried out!"

"Good G.o.d!" cried John De Witt, raising his hands and eyes heavenward.

"What frightful tidings!"

Serdan, Salaun Lebrenn and his son could not restrain a cry of indignation and horror.

"But perhaps my brother is expiring from the consequences of the torture!" exclaimed John De Witt in despair.

"Notwithstanding the sufferings he has undergone, your brother's life is safe," answered Tilly. "I pledge you my word."

"The infamous wretches! To believe that the torture could wrest from a De Witt the admission of a crime which he is guiltless of!" exclaimed John De Witt in a smothered voice. "I am certain my brother underwent the ordeal of the torture with heroic serenity. Proceed, my friend, I feel strong enough to listen."

"I have my information direct from the court registrar who witnessed the horrible scene," continued Tilly. "Cornelius was tied down upon a table.

His hands were placed by the executioner between two iron plates, held together by screws, the slightest turn downward of which would break the patient's bones."

"Oh!" cried Serdan, horrified. "These are shocking details!"

"Tilly," said John De Witt in a firm voice, "conceal nothing from me. I want to know everything. Oh, my brother! Poor, dear victim!"

"During the preparation for the torture, the face of Cornelius was pale and impa.s.sive. One of the judges approached him: 'Are you ready to make a confession?' he asked your brother. 'I have nothing to confess,' was his answer. 'Then you persist in denying that you plotted to a.s.sa.s.sinate the Prince of Orange?' 'Monsieur,' replied Cornelius, 'had I desired to a.s.sa.s.sinate the Prince of Orange, I would not have employed another's arm.' 'Prisoner,' rejoined the judge, 'torture may compel you to confess what you now refuse to admit.' 'Monsieur, you will cut me to pieces before you can make me confess an act that I never even thought of.'

'Then you deny?' 'I deny.' Upon a sign from the judge, the executioner gave the screws a turn; the plates drew closer together, and crushed Cornelius's hands. His suffering was cruel, yet he remained silent, impa.s.sive. Suddenly a wild clamor from the mob that was gathered at the foot of the tower, reached your brother's ears. 'Death to the French party!' 'Death to the accomplices of Louis XIV!' 'Death to De Witt!'

Upon hearing these cries, the registrar informed me, your brother raised his head and turned his inspired eyes to the ceiling of the prison; his features were transfigured; they were serenely resplendent; a divine smile flitted over his lips; his moral courage dominated the agonies of the body; and, as the mob without redoubled its cries for his death, Cornelius recited in a powerful ringing voice this strophe from Horace:

"'_Neither the unjust clamor of the people, nor the angry frown of a tyrant, is able to dethrone the mind of a man upright and true to his cause._'"[2]

"Oh! my n.o.ble brother!" cried John De Witt breaking the silence of admiration that followed the narrative of Monsieur Tilly. "Often did you make the remark--_the dark iniquity of the guilty but causes the virtue of the just to s.h.i.+ne forth with all the greater l.u.s.ter!_"

"Yes!" continued Monsieur Tilly. "And at this very moment that beautiful sentiment is approved true. The executioners and judges were seized with respect and admiration for the grandeur of soul of Cornelius De Witt, and they gazed upon one another in a sort of stupor, as if the absurdity of the hateful process had broken its way into their vision. The judges conferred. The ignominy of submitting one of the greatest citizens of the Republic, one of the victors of Chatham and Solway, to the torture, and upon no stronger grounds than the word of a noted wretch, smote their consciences. Even paler than the patient himself, the registrar informed me, the judges ordered the torture to cease, and, addressing Cornelius in a faltering voice said to him: 'So, then, monsieur, you insist upon making no confession?' 'Save me and yourselves the trouble of such questions,' was Cornelius's answer; 'you have the power to proceed with the torture; my body belongs to you.' Recoiling before the thought of repeating the barbarous act, the judges ordered the executioners to untie their victim. Your brother was taken back to his prison, where the registrar of the States announced to him a few minutes later the decree that was p.r.o.nounced upon him. It is as follows:

"'The court of Holland, having considered and examined the doc.u.ments, submitted to it by the attorney general of the court, against and in accusation of Master Cornelius De Witt, former burgomaster of Dortrecht and ruart of the district of Putten, at present a prisoner of the said court, as well as examined him, his confrontations, and all that was said by himself, declares the prisoner forfeit of all his offices and dignities, banishes him from the provinces of Holland, never to return again under pain of still severer punishment, and sentences him to pay the costs of the trial.'"

"But this very decree proves the innocence of Cornelius De Witt," cried Salaun Lebrenn. "Devoted Orangemen though the judges are, they have recoiled before their own iniquity. They did not even dare to mention the alleged crime of the prisoner. If the crime were mentioned, the death penalty would be the necessary punishment. Oh, the miserable, the infamous fellows!"

"You are correct," replied Monsieur Tilly. "After hearing his sentence read, Cornelius De Witt said to the registrar: 'Monsieur, if I am an a.s.sa.s.sin I deserve death; if I am innocent I should be set free, and my accuser punished. I appeal from this sentence to the Supreme Council.'

'If so, monsieur,' said the registrar, 'be kind enough to formulate your objection at the foot of the decree and to sign the same.'

Cornelius De Witt cast a bitter smile upon the registrar, and raising his two hands mutilated by the torture and bandaged in blood-stained wrappages: 'I can not write, monsieur, I shall dictate to you my objections to the sentence.' So saying, Cornelius formulated his objection in the following terms: 'In the face of G.o.d and of man, I must be p.r.o.nounced an a.s.sa.s.sin or innocent: death or freedom.'"

"Oh!" cried John De Witt. "I shall devote all the power left to me, all my life, to seek and obtain the rehabilitation of my brother! I shall not falter in the task."

"Do you now understand," asked Tilly, "why I consider that you would be lost, without profit to your brother, if you were now to be seen at the prison? The agents of the Prince of Orange quickly spread among the mob the news of Cornelius's banishment, and stirred up the popular rage at his not having been put to death. These moves have raised the popular exasperation to a still higher pitch, and incited the mob's cravings for vengeance. The crowd has threatened to tear down the gates of the prison in order to take your brother and do him to death. The registrar having hastened to notify me of these events, I ordered The Hague cavalry to the spot. It is now drawn up before the castle. Our hors.e.m.e.n are not Orangemen, as you know; the prison will not be broken in so long as they are allowed to remain on guard. You see, you may feel at ease, for the present, on the fate of Cornelius. I conjure you, my friend, renounce the purpose of proceeding to the prison. You are known by the whole city. To cross its streets at this moment of ferment, is uselessly to challenge the greatest risk. Think of your own dear family."

"John," added Serdan, "we join Tilly in urging you to flee as soon as possible. Who knows but that your own house may be invaded at one moment or another by that senselessly furious mob, as your father's house was invaded in Dortrecht!"