Chapter III: Heiliger Lee

By the end of April Louis of Nassau and his army of refugees, adventurers, and mercenaries had entered Friesland; at Appingadam he was joined by Adolphus in command of a troop of horse, and the two brothers advanced on Groningen, which town refused to receive the rebels but gave them a sum of money on condition that they renounced an attack on the city.

With this much-needed treasure Louis was enabled to keep together his troops and enrol more of the fugitives who daily flocked to his banner, while he retained his headquarters at Appingadam, strengthening his forces and waiting for news of the enemy.

Early in May, Aremberg, Stadtholder of Friesland, came in sight of Louis' entrenchments; there was a sharp skirmish and Aremberg fell back on Wittewerum Abbey, where he encamped, waiting for the arrival of Count Meghem, Stadtholder of Guelders, who was coming up through Coeverden with reinforcements of infantry and light horse.

Louis was aware that Alva's two lieutenants were only waiting to join forces to attack him, even if Aremberg did not fall on him alone; he knew too that the troops coming against him were four thousand of Alva's best men, including Braccamonte's famous Sardinian regiments, and he was keenly conscious of the wretched rabble his own troops showed in consequence; they were mostly untrained, mostly in poor condition, and had only been kept from a mutiny by the money of the city of Groningen and Louis' acts and promises.

William's brother had started on this enterprise with a recklessness that was not impudence but heroism; he was a good general and a fine soldier, and well knew how desperate was his adventure with such materials, but he had not hesitated, for to wait for more money and better men would have been to wait for ever.

Learning that Meghem had not yet arrived at Aremberg's camp, he shifted his own position, marched three leagues through a little forest of fir trees, and entrenched himself near the monastery of Heiliger Lee.

There he was joined by a messenger disguised as a priest who brought him news from Maestricht.

It was completely disastrous; illness had prevented Hoogstraaten from taking his appointed command, and the Seigneur de Villars had led the forces which were to attack Juliers, raise the country, and secure Maestricht. These objects had failed. Two Spanish generals, De Lodrovo and D'Avila, had attacked and defeated him at Dalem; all the invading force of three thousand men had been put to the sword, and De Villars himself sent to Brussels for execution.

So ended one of the three attempts on the Netherlands. Louis crushed the dispatch (which had been sent by one of the Prince's secret agents in Maestricht) into his doublet, and said not a word of its contents to any, even to Adolphus.

That evening they dined in the convent of Heiliger Lee from which the monks had fled at their approach; the abbot had joined Aremberg at Wittewerum.

The building was pleasantly situated on a slightly rising ground which behind sloped up to a wood of short poplars and beech; to the left was a large plain divided, for agricultural purposes, into squares by means of ditches or canals; before it and to the right was a vast stretch of swampy ground which, though covered with lush green grass, and in part transformed into pasture land, was, at this season of the year, impassable; a stone causeway leading to the convent crossed this deceitful morass, which was bordered by a road winding round the wood and hill—the road by which Aremberg must arrive if he made an attack.

Louis' position was as good as was possible to find in a country so dangerous by reason of ditches and swamps, the shoulder of the hill protected some of the troops, and the remainder occupied the only piece of dry ground in the vicinity; the morass stretched before their encampment as a natural defence; the heights, too, of Heiliger Lee (artificially created by early monks) were the only rising portions of ground in the whole flat district which was girdled and swamped by the overflowing waters of the Em and the Lippe. The ground was historic; as the two brothers wandered in the convent gardens before the dinner hour, they reminded each other of their school learning, when they had read of Hermann, that early Goth who, on the very swamp at which they now gazed, had turned back the victorious legions of Rome.

And now again the Germanic people were gathered to resist Latin tyranny and to oppose proud assumption of universal dominion by the assertion of man's eternal right to freedom of person and of conscience.

It was a fair evening, and the scene before the two young generals was beautiful with the languid, mellow, golden beauty of the Low Countries. The swamps, covered with grass of a most brilliant green hue, melted to a wistful horizon straight as the line of the sea and misted with gold which faded into the soft azure of the heavens; the woods were of the same hues, a sharp, bright, delicate green and gold, dull and glowing like the tint of honey.

The road and the stone causeway were warm with the dusky golden shadow of evening; the convent buildings also were warm and mellow in tone; the low-walled gardens before the doors were filled with homely flowers—pinks, stocks, and wallflowers.

Louis leant his elbows on the wall and looked across the low sweet prospect. His eye travelled to the plain where his ill-equipped forces were encamped; he watched the men moving about among the tents preparing their food, and thought of those four thousand beaten out of existence at Dalem, and of the Seigneur de Villars waiting to be sent to the scaffold.

Louis remembered him in that last Council at Dillenburg, how he had asked about Brederode, and lamented for his death—he whose own days were so numbered!

The Nassau Count's face hardened; who would next pay toll to the Spanish fury?

Adolphus spoke, scattering his brother's thoughts.

"If they try to cross the swamp, we have them," he said keenly, surveying the verdant treacherous ground.

"Aremberg is Stadtholder here, he must know the country," replied Louis; "if it were a Spanish commander I should have different and better hopes."

"I have good hopes," said Adolphus. He was to-night a little quieter, graver than usual; his fair and youthful face wore an expression of serenity and resolution Louis had not seen there before, but he had never been with his brother on the eve of battle.

Louis was glad he had not spoken of the news from Juliers.

"Aremberg will have good hopes too," he answered lightly. "He despises us and the 'beggars' bitterly enough. Strange how in the old days at Brussels we rode and ate together—we and Meghem, and now come to this!"

"Aremberg is a sick man," said Adolphus. "They say he can hardly sit his horse. I would rather die young than grow to be sick."

A white pigeon and a white butterfly took flight together from the convent wall and flew side by side across the swamp until they were lost in the melting mists of the distance.

Adolphus pointed to them.

"Like two souls departing," he said, putting back the thick lock of hair the evening breeze blew across his eyes. "Do you remember the skryer who foretold our fortunes at Leipsic?" he added.

"Yes," said Louis, with a little smile.

"He is in the camp. He followed us from Groningen, and asked me leave to join us. He was with Brederode, he said, even to his death, then wandered in our track from Germany. Do you think he can really read portents in the stars?"

The young Protestant general answered slowly—

"It does not seem to me that God would permit His heavens to show forth signs for mummers to profit by; yet these fellows have a grain of truth in their predictions—though maybe of the Devil; did not this man say in Leipsic we should all die a bloody death? And who among us then thought of war?"

"He told me yesterday," said Adolphus, "that for three nights there had been a falling star above Groningen, and that Aremberg's hours were counted."

"God's will be done," said Louis soberly; he gave another glance at his camp and then they turned into the convent where their simple meal was ready.

They were about to rise from the table when an officer brought into their presence a young peasant, a tall blond Frieslander, who told them that he had been running all day before Aremberg's army to warn them of the enemy's approach.

"The Stadtholder is coming straight on you," he said simply. "He has with him many foreign soldiers and the six cannon of Groningen."

"We," said Louis, "shall be ready to meet him."

Rising, he looked into the eyes, so blue and placid, of the young giant who had given him this valuable warning.

"Can you handle a matchlock or hold a pike?" he asked.

"Either, in the service of Your Excellency," answered the man quickly. "Anything to give a blow to the Spaniards. I have strong hands," and he held them out.

Louis smiled, to check a sigh.

"We are none of us great soldiers," he said, "but we may be great fighters if God wills."

He took the silver "beggar medal" from his neck and gave it to the Frieslander, bidding the officer who had brought him to enroll him in some company which was not full strength.

The young general and his brother then threw their mantles about them and, descending the hill, went on foot among the encampment, exhorting and encouraging the men (who now were enthusiastic enough), and disposing the troops.

The motley army was arranged in two battalions on the plain where they had encamped, each squadron flanked by musketeers and one protected by the base of the hill on the brow of which was placed some light-armed troops, at once the decoy and the shield of the main army.

The most dangerous position was assigned to the cavalry; this, under the command of Adolphus, was in the vanguard of all, directly facing the wood-bordered road along which the Spaniards would approach.

When all arrangements were complete and all the officers had received their instructions at the hastily called field council, the brothers returned up the hill.

The stars were now beginning to fade in the light of a pallid dawn, the woods were hushed, the fields serene; the bodies of men moving about to take up their positions were indistinct black masses in the obscurity.

Louis felt his blood beat strongly; he was about to strike the first blow in the cause to which his House was now pledged; tremendous results, moral and material, hung on the issue of to-morrow's battle, and there was almost everything against him.

When he went to change into his complete armour he fell on his knees on the bare floor of the convent room and prayed—

"God, as we fight not for our own profit nor glory but for thy poor people, forgive us all our loves and our hates, our lusts and all our mistreadings, and let those who fall to-morrow die in thy mercy."

When he had armed he dismissed his pages and went down to where Adolphus already waited in the convent garden.

The young Count wore a suit of black mail with a little scarlet plume like a burst of flame in his casque, and across his heart a scarf of that orange colour, so bright and deep, that it was frequently mistaken for the scarlet sash of the Spanish officers.

Louis' harness was of uncoloured steel; he too wore the orange scarf, the tasselled ends of which fell to his thigh.

Among the fragrant flower-beds two grooms held the two black horses of the brothers.

The light had now strengthened so that they could distinguish the pikemen from the musketeers on the plain below, and discern the sutlers hastening to the rear with the baggage waggons.

Adolphus glanced at the banners which were being displayed in the still air, all of them glittering with gold and silk which traced, he knew, patriotic and bold inscriptions; then he watched with interest his own banner being brought up the hill by a galloping horseman.

Louis was straining his eyes down the darkling road where Aremberg was almost due.

"He will wait for Meghem, who cannot be a day's march behind," he said anxiously; "when he sees how we are entrenched he will skirmish and wait."

"God be entreated," said Adolphus, "that he attacks us."

They mounted, and were scarcely in the saddle before news came from the outposts that Aremberg was in sight.

The banner of Adolphus now waved at the head of his little troop of horsemen (not more than three hundred) who waited on the hill to take up their position.

Adolphus still looked at this banner; the morning breeze caught the folds and blew them out, showing the arms of Nassau with the mark of cadency of the fourth son and the words, "_Je Maintiendrai_," together with the inscription which was the motto of Louis' army, "_Nunc aut nunquam, recuperare aut mori_."

The brothers now, by a common instinct, turned to each other and clasped hands.

The two fine young faces, so alike in feature and expression in the stern frame of the open casque, gazed at each other with a wistful and silent affection.

Their hands loosened and they moved away, when suddenly Adolphus turned back, and, dropping the reins, threw his right arm round Louis' neck with a womanly gesture and kissed him; then at a gallop he swept away, put himself at the head of his little troop, and led them down the hill to their desperate and perilous position.