Charles de Coster - Flemish Legends

As soon as the messengers saw who it was coming along the road they went down on their knees, but the good Duke would have none of this, and made them rise and walk at his stirrup.

Before they had gone far they reached the scene of the brigands’ discomfiture. At the sight of all those heaped-up bodies the Duke halted, greatly astonished and no less pleased. “And who,” quoth he, “has slain all these scoundrels in this wise?”

“Our womenfolk,” said one of the messengers.

“What is this thou’rt telling me?” said the Duke with a frown.

“Before God, My Lord,” said the man, “I will tell you the whole story.”

And so he did.

“Well,” said the Duke when he had done, “who would have thought it of these good wives? I will reward them well for it.”

So saying he caused the casque of the Irontooth to be taken up and carried away. This casque was to be seen for many years in the armoury of My Lord Charles, who had it guarded with the utmost care.

On entering Uccle the good Duke saw coming towards him a large body of people, and in their midst a man crying out in a most piteous voice: “Master! Master Priest! let me not be boiled!” To which the answer was: “We shall see.”

“Whence comes all this noise?” said the Duke.

But as soon as Pieter Gans saw who it was he ran towards him and threw his arms round his horse’s legs. “My Lord,” he cried, “My Lord Duke, let me not be boiled!”

“And why,” said the Duke, “should they boil one of my good men of Uccle?”

But the very reverend Father Claessens, stepping forward, told him the whole story with great indignation, while Pieter Gans continued to blubber alongside in a most melancholy fashion. And thereon followed such confusion, with the one weeping and groaning, the other denouncing and syllogizing, and each so vehemently, that the good Duke could not tell which to listen to.

Suddenly Wantje came forward out of the press, and, like Pieter Gans, cried: “Mercy and pity!”

“My Lord,” said the maid, “this man has sinned greatly against God, but only from simpleness of mind and a natural cowardice. The devil frightened him; he submitted to the devil. Pardon him, My Lord, for our sakes.”

“Maid,” said the Duke, “that was well spoken, and ’tis to thee I will hearken.”

But the very reverend Father: “My Lord,” said he, “forgets to think of God.”

“Father,” said the Duke, “I am not forgetful of that duty. Nevertheless I think he takes little pleasure in watching Christian fat smoke or a good man’s flesh boil, but likes rather to see men gentle and kind, and not giving their fellows penance to do. And on this day when Our Lady the Virgin has deigned to perform a miracle for our sakes I will not sadden her mother’s heart by the death of a Christian. Therefore none of the accused, neither this Pieter Gans nor any other there may be, shall this time go to the stake.”

On hearing this Pieter Gans burst out laughing like a madman, and began to dance and sing, crying out the while: “Praise to My Lord! I am not to be boiled. Brabant to the Good Duke!” And all the townsfolk called out after him: “Praise to My Lord!”

Then the Duke bade them be silent, and smiling:

“Well, dames,” said he, “who have this night done man’s work so valiantly, come hither that I may give you a man’s reward. First of all, to the bravest one among you I give this great chain of gold. Which is she?”

The good women pushed Wantje forward before the Duke.

“Ah,” said he, “’tis thee, sweet pleader. Wilt kiss me, though I be old?”

“Yes, My Lord,” said the maid. And so she did, notwithstanding that she was a little shamefaced over it.

And the good Duke, having hung the chain round her neck, spoke further in this wise:

“As for you all, good dames, who have this night so gallantly carried arms, I institute among you a most honourable Order, under the protection of Madam Mary the Virgin, and I direct that there shall be set up in this place a staff of a good length, and that each Sunday you shall come together here and draw the bow in archery, in memory of the time when with those bows you saved the lives of your husbands and children. And there shall be a fair crown of laurel and a fair purseful of golden peters , bright and new, to be awarded annually to the best archer of the year, and brought to her on a cushion by all the others together. And this purse will dower her if she be a maid, or, if she be a wife, will stand her in good stead against a time of famine.”

In this manner was instituted the Order of Women-Archers of Uccle, who still draw the bow like men every Sunday, under the protection of Our Lady the Virgin.

In the year of Our Lord Jesus Christ 690, lived three maidens, descended, by male issue, from the noble line of the great emperor Octavian.

Their names were Blanche, Claire, and Candide.

Though they had dedicated the flower of their maidenhead to God, it is not to be supposed that this was for lack of lovers.

For, on every day that passed, a crowd of people used to collect for nothing else than to see them go by on their way to church, and onlookers would say of them: “See what gentle eyes, see what white hands!”

More than one, besides, with his mouth watering to look at them, would say sorrowfully: “Must it be that such sweet maids as these should dedicate themselves to God, who has eleven thousand or more in his Paradise already.”

“But none so fair,” answered an old wheezing merchant behind them, who was drinking in the fragrance of their dresses.

And going off on his way, if the old man saw any young fellow loafing by the roadside, or lying on his belly in the grass to warm his back in the sun, he would give him a kick in the ribs, saying: “Well now, dost thou care nothing to see the finest flowers of beauty that were ever blowing?”

Not a few young men tried to win them in marriage, but failing in this endeavour, turned moody and pined visibly away.

Among them was a certain prince of Araby, who had himself baptized with great ceremony. And this for the sake of the youngest sister solely.

But, failing to attain his end, either by pleading or by force, set himself one morning before her door, and there let himself fall on his sword.

The maid, hearing this fair lord cry out, came down in haste and had him carried in and laid on her own bed; whereat (for he was not quite dead) he found great solace.

And when she bent over him to bathe and dress his wound, he roused what force he had left in him, kissed her on her red mouth, sighed like a man delivered from torment, and so gave up his soul happily.

But the maid was not at all pleased at this kiss, for she considered it a dishonour to her divine husband Jesus. Nevertheless she wept for the fair lord, a little.

There were oftentimes a great crowd of suitors before the dwelling of the three ladies, some of them sighing laments, others prancing up and down on fine horses, others without uttering a word, but only looking up at the windows all the day long.

And oftentimes these men would fight together and kill one another, from jealousy. At this the ladies were saddened exceedingly.