Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 The Burgomaster's daughter
 Moffat, the missionary
 The giant's grave
 The children and the sage
 The ship and the island
 Back Cover

Group Title: Burgomaster's daughter and other stories
Title: The Burgomaster's daughter and other stories
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028162/00001
 Material Information
Title: The Burgomaster's daughter and other stories
Physical Description: 285, 2, 32 p., 9 leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Kingston, William Henry Giles, 1814-1880
Shipley, Mary E ( Mary Elizabeth ), b. 1842
Crockford, Gertrude
Hogg, John ( Publisher )
Evans, Edmund, 1826-1905 ( Engraver )
Bayes, Alfred Walter, 1832-1909 ( Illustrator )
J.S. Virtue and Co ( Printer )
Publisher: John Hogg
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: J.S. Virtue and Co., Limited
Publication Date: between 1881-1899
Subject: Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1890   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1890   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
General Note: Approximate dates according to Brown, P. A. London publishers and printers, p. 209: Virtue (J.S.) & Co., Ltd. was located at 26 Ivy Lane & 294 City Road between 1881-99.
General Note: Some illustrations engraved by E. Evans and some drawn by A.W. Bayes.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
Statement of Responsibility: by W.H.G. Kingston, M.E. Shipley, Gertrude Crockford, and others ; with three coloured plates, six full page woodcuts, and twenty-one illustrations in the text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00028162
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: notis - ALG3257
oclc - 60654455
alephbibnum - 002223009

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page i
        Page ii
    Table of Contents
        Page iii
        Page iv
    The Burgomaster's daughter
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 10a
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 36a
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 52a
    Moffat, the missionary
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
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        Page 70
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        Page 89
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        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
    The giant's grave
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 104a
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 130a
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 144a
    The children and the sage
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
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        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 192a
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
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        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 220a
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
    The ship and the island
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
        Page 314
        Page 315
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
        Page 322
    Back Cover
        Page 323
        Page 324
        Page 325
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; W._ Wl- --: .

. -- a & .. . r
-- -









In Eight Chapters. By W. H. G. KINGSTON.

Chapter I.-Colonists and Natives.
,, II.-The First Missionary to the Hottentots.
,, III.-The Hottentot Chief.
,, IV.-Africaner and the Missionaries.
,, V.-A Chapter of Travelling.
,, VI.-A Hottentot Village.
,, VII.-Another Aspect.
,, VIII.-Incidents of Travel.
,, IX.-Return to Cape Town.
,, X.-Conclusion.

In Four Chapters. By M. E. SHIPLEY.

Part I.-The Children.
,, II.-The Sage.

FRITZ .191
Chapter I.-All that was Saved.
,, II.-The Likeness.
,, III.-The Crowd.



Chapter I.-The "Bounty" sails for Tahiti-Collecting the
Bread-Fruit Plants-The Mutiny.
,, II.-The Boat-Party land at Tofoa-Atlacked by
the Natives-Perilous Voyage-Extreme Suf-
ferings-Relief at New Holland-Return to
,, III.-The Mutineers at Toobouai-Return to Tahiti-
For Pitcairn's Island-The Ship burned-
Quarrels, and their Fatal Consequences.
,, IV.-Further Disasters-Occupations and Improve-
,, V.-The Island becomes known-The Natives-
Their Manners and Customs Death of
Adams -Conclusion.






CAVALIER, habited in a light suit of
armour, with breast-plate and back-piece,
a velvet cap and a waving plume on his
head, with a jewel-hilted sword by his side,
suspended by a rich scarf, was riding through the
streets of the ancient city of Antwerp. He was
followed by two stout men-at-arms, carrying sword,
and lance, and heavy pistols in their holsters. The
cavalier was young and handsome; the light moustache
on his lip, and his beardless chin, showed that he
had only just entered manhood. His bearing, how-
ever, was bold and free, and a fire burned in his bright
blue eye as he gazed around, which showed that he
was capable of daring and noble deeds.
The sun was already sinking low, as was seen by
the deep shadows cast even across the wider places of
the city through which he rode. He was approaching
a handsome house, from the open windows of which
sounds of revelry proceeded. As he drew near,
the heads of several persons were protruded. One,
especially, who had a wine-cup in his hand, which
he quaffed off catching sight of him, exclaimed-
What I Do my eyes deceive me ? Marnix of

Tholouse! You in Antwerp ? Stay stay! I pray
thee! Stay I command thee. Come in hither and
drain a cup to our noble cause."
The young cavalier at these words drew rein and
looked up at the window. The speaker, however,
to enforce his arguments, had already quitted it; and
while Marnix was gazing up, wondering what had
become of him, he found his horse's head seized by
the former, who had at that moment issued from the
"I rejoice to ,;ee you, my friend," exclaimed
the gentleman who had just come out of the house ;
"' I thought you were still at college, going over the
dry tomes of the schoolmen, which I could never
abide. Come in, I say ; there are many friends who
will greet you, and you can tell us at the same moment
the cause of your appearance in this city."
""Nay, Count Brederode, but that may not be
altogether what I desire to do," answered the young
cavalier. I have an engagement, too, which I wish
to keep, and already the evening is drawing to a
close, and it is time that I should be at my hostelry.
However, I will tell you that I left college because I
consider that at the present time, those who love
their country ought to be preparing to use their swords
rather than their books and pens."
A noble sentiment, and worthy of you, Marnix,"
answered Count Brederode.
The last speaker was a man considerably more
advanced in life than Marnix of Thoulouse. Hard
living had already marked its lines on his countenance,
which was even now heated by the wine-cup. His
figure was tall and commanding, while a bold reckless
air and a loud hearty voice were the chief charac-
teristics of the man.

Nay, I would not detain you many minutes," he
continued, still holding Thoulouse's bridle. "Come but
for an instant and show yourself among our friends.
Quaff but one cup, it will clear your brain rather than
confuse it, and then go your way and perform your
engagement. To-morrow I hope to see you here;
we have matters of importance to discuss, and your
clear head and unbiassed opinion will be of value."
The young cavalier, won over by the flatteries and
pressing invitation of his friend, called to one of his
attendants to take his horse, and, led by Count
Brederode, entered the house. He found himself
in another minute at the entrance of a banqueting
hall, in which a number of gaily-dressed cavaliers were
seated at a long table, with wine-flasks and cups and a
dessert of numerous rich fruits placed before them.
"c Welcome, Marnix of Thoulouse welcome !" cried
several, rising from their seats and warmly shaking
him by the hand. You have come to join us, as
your gallant brother has already done. We wish he
were here to welcome you also. We want more of
the young and noble blood of the land, since so many
of the older ones stand aloof, or look coldly at the
cause of liberty."
"Friends," said the young nobleman, "" I am ready
to devote my sword, my heart, my very life's blood to
the cause of my country! Though I do not remain
with you now, it is from no want of heartfelt sym-
pathy. I am one with you in any gallant work which
can tend to set our country free from the thraldom
which oppresses it."
Well said a noble sentiment!" exclaimed several
of the guests. "We drink to your health, brave
Marnix." The cups were filled, and the guests
rising, emptied them as they spoke.

Young Marnix took a golden cup which Count
Brederode handed him, and holding it up answered,
" I thank you, gallant seniors, for the honour you do
me. Life is sweet, but yet I once more say, that life
I will willingly sacrifice for the good of my country!
Again I thank you from my heart." Saying this, he
put the cup to his lips and drained it slowly, re-
placing it on the table. His attitude was graceful
and gallant. I now bid you farewell," he added,
bowing as he spoke, and in spite of the appeals of the
count that he would stop and quaff another cup, he
retired from the room, and, remounting his horse,
continued his way through the city.
The period of which we are speaking, was the year
1565. Philip of Spain, at one time husband of Queen
Mary of England, ruled over not only Spain, but the
Netherlands and Low Countries; his sister, Margaret
of Parma, acting as Regent for him in the Netherlands.
Protestant principles had made great progress through-
out the latter part of King Philip's dominions, and he
had come to the resolution of stamping them out by
sword and fire, and every means in his power. The
means he took were not such as to win the hearts of
his people, or indeed to gain his object. One of those
means was the establishment of the Inquisition, the
directors of which had power to seize any man,
woman, or child in the country, and to consign them,
with a mere mockery of trial, to death, either at the
stake, by drowning, or strangulation. These and other
acts of the most cruel tyranny, had at length aroused
the spirits of a large portion of the population of all
degrees. Although a few of the greater nobles with
their followers still remained loyal to the king, a con-
siderable number of the lesser nobles, soon after this,
formed a League, by which they had bound themselves

to sacrifice their properties and their lives, in an
attempt to restore liberty to their country. The docu-
ment which the members of the League had signed,
was known as the Compromise. They had, however,
taken the name of the Beggars, in consequence of a
remark made by a certain Count Berlaymont to the
Regent, when the Compromise was first presented,
"Is it possible that your Highness can entertain
fears of these Beggars, or Gueux ? He spoke thus
contemptuously of the confederates, because many
of them were the younger sons of noble families, and
others were men who were already nearly ruined by
extravagance. The circumstances we are now describ-
ing, however, somewhat preceded that notable event.
Marnix hastened his pace-almost unconsciously-
his eye brightening, and a look of eagerness coming
over his countenance, as he advanced. Before him, on
one side of the Mere-a broad street in the centre of
the city-was a richly-ornamented house, at the deep
portal of which stood an armed man with halberd on
his shoulder, his buff coat showing that he was one of
the burgher-guard.
Marnix of Thoulouse drew up before the door, and
one of his attendants immediately riding up to his side,
he dismounted, "Go to the Red Lion,' he said,
"and order an apartment for me. I will sleep there
to-night, and should my brother or any other friend
come for me, say that I expect to be at the hostelry at
nine o'clock."


"WfWo seek you here ?" said the sturdy burgher-guard,
placing his halberd across the entrance.


"The Burgomaster, Antony Van Straalen,"
answered Marnix.
"'He is from home, and will not be back- this
evening," said the man-at-arms.
Marnix hesitated.
"I would pay my respects to his daughter, then,
the Lady Julie," he said, and his voice trembled some-
what as he pronounced the name.
The guard eyed him from head to foot.
I will call the Major-domo then," he said; I
can let no one pass without his permission when the
Burgomaster is from home."
The soldier rang a bell, which was answered by
a portly-looking personage, the usual porter of the
house. His eye brightened as he caught sight of
the young nobleman.
"1 Is the Lady Julie in ?" asked Marnix.
"Ay, she is, for she seldom goes abroad," answered
the porter; '"I will call Master Cornelius. I do not
think he will refuse you admittance, although we are
obliged to be very particular at these times. We know
not what is going to happen. Reports of all sorts are
flying about, as thick as snow in December."
Well, my good friend Peter," said Marnix,
"hasten, I pray thee, and get the required permission."
The old porter toddled away as fast as his some-
what bulky legs could carry him, and meantime Marnix
paced impatiently up and down the hall. He was
rewarded, however, at length, by the appearance of
Master Cornelius, who, though not quite as stout as
Peter, was still of bulky proportions. The Major-domo
beckoned him upstairs through the door which Peter
had thrown open.
The young man sprang up the steps with a rapidity
which soon left the old steward behind. He appeared

- ___I _______,__l__

Page i i,
"Buromaster's Daughter."

to require no guide indeed. He took his way along
a passage, at the end of which was an open door,
through which he passed into a handsome apartment
hung with rich damask. Vases of flowers stood on
the marble tables at the side between the silk-covered
seats which surrounded the room. At the further end
appeared a lady, tall and graceful, young, and fair as
any youth might wish to look on. Her light auburn
hair escaped in ringlets from beneath the golden band
which surrounded her head, while her costume was of
the richest and most elegant description. She had
risen from her seat as the footsteps of the young noble-
man had been heard on the stair, and she now advanced
across the room holding out her hands to meet him.
There was no coyness nor timidity in her manner;
indeed, had any spectator been present, it would have
been seen that a thorough understanding existed already
between the youth and the maiden. It would have
been difficult indeed to have found a couple of more
attractive personal appearance, or more suited to each
other. The Lady Julie was probably a year or two
younger than Marnix, but had already attained the
perfection of womanhood-in his eyes, at all events
%-and those eyes kept looking into hers with an
expression which showed his devoted love and admira-
Thus they sat for some time, talking of matters of
deep interest to themselves, whatever the world at large
r eight have thought of them.
"The Burgomaster is as kind as he is generous
%nd noble," said Marnix. "cc He will not, on account
of the troubles which have overtaken our country,
object to our marriage at the time we had hoped.
You will plead for me, will you not, Julie ? The
feeling that I have you to fight for, and the right to


protect you, will nerve my arm and give wisdom to my
mind, should I be called to join the counsels of the
"'Yes, I will plead," answered Julie; "for truly, so
occupied in the affairs of State is my father, that he has
but little time for my society; and I will tell him that
he will find far more assistance from a son, than a
daughter can hope to afford."
It had been proposed that the marriage of the
young people should take place a short time from the
period of which we are speaking; but the Burgomaster
had of late shown an anxiety to put it off, on the plea
that the state of the country was not suitable for
marrying and giving in marriage. It had not, indeed,
hitherto been made known, except to the immediate
relations of the family.

The kind-hearted Burgomaster was not likely,
however, his daughter well knew, to resist her
appeals, though he would rather have selected for
her, if not a more wealthy, an older and more
experienced husband than the young Marnix of
Thoulouse. Still, the gallant bearing, the generosity,
and intelligence of the young nobleman, had won upon
his affections, and already he had begun to regard him
as his son. The young people, therefore, parted in the
evening without any serious apprehension that their
marriage would be deferred.
On reaching the Red Lion," Marnix found his
brother, Philip of St. Aldegonde, a man considerably
older than himself, and one of the most accomplished
persons of his age. He had already gained renown as
a poet of much imagination, and as a prose writer
whose style was unsurpassed by any of his contem-
poraries. Trained to arms from his earliest youth, he

was an accomplished soldier, and at the same time
an ardent patriot.
Congratulate me, my dear brother," said Marnix,
as he greeted him. "My happiness will soon be
secured, and with Julie mine, I feel capable of en-
countering all the foes of our country."
The elder brother smiled at the enthusiasm of the
I rejoice with you," he said, but-- "
"Nay, but have no buts, brother," said Marnix;
"it is an expression I would were banished from the
language of mortals. Shall you be at the meeting
to-morrow with Brederode ? "
"Yes; but I would advise you, Marnix, to avoid
associating too closely with that man. He is honest, I
grant you, but he has no judgment, and he is more
likely to lead others into useless danger and difficulty,
than to advance the cause he so loudly advocates."
But I thought, my dear brother, that you your-
self were closely united with him. He surely is one of
the most conspicuous supporters of the Compromise,
which you yourself are said to have drawn up."
Yes, because we are not in a position to decline
the services of even so boisterous a supporter," said
Philip; but I would warn you rather to avoid any
private enterprise he may propose. Of the great public
object we all advocate, there is no doubt."
The young Marnix promised to be cautious. It
would have been well for him had he been so.
The next morning the two brothers attended a
meeting of the confederates at the house where Count
Brederode had taken up his abode during his residence
at Antwerp.
Marnix waited impatiently till it was over, that he
might repair to the house of the Burgomaster. Hle


entered without being announced, as the servants had
had the acuteness to discover that he was a welcome
guest. He was met, however, on the top of the stair by
Master Cornelius-the steward--whose countenance
wore a look of embarrassment.
"There is a cavalier here," he said, a Spaniard
by his appearance, and his name-Don Alberic Lodron.
He is even now in the presence of the Lady Julie, and
our lord the Burgomaster. What is object is, I do
not know for a certainty, but I have been told that he
has watched the Lady Julie on several occasions when
she has ridden out, and cast looks of deep admiration
at her. He has come to the house more than once
without being admitted; and I know not why, but I
fear that something unpleasant may occur. I know
what these Spaniards are-very fierce and revengeful
if their wishes are opposed, and I tell you it is through
affection and respect for you, my dear young master,
that you may be prepared." Much more to the same
effect the old steward uttered, till, indeed, he some-
what tried the temper of Marnix.
"Fear not for me, nor for your young mistress,"
answered the young nobleman. "I care little what
the audacious Spaniard may threaten or do. I beg
that you will announce me, that I may meet him face
to face."
Somewhat unwillingly, therefore, the steward led
6he way into the reception hall, where, on a high-
backed, richly-carved chair, sat Julie, the picture of
modest reserve. On one side sat her father-a digni-
fled, portly man of middle age, his handsome counte-
nance indicative of benignity and intelligence; while
on the other, holding his feathered beaver in his hand,
was a handsomely.dressed cavalier, who was at this
moment earnestly addressing the young lady. Her

eye brightened as she saw Marnix, and rising from
her seat, she advanced almost involuntarily towards
him. Then beckoning him to a chair near that of her
father, she returned to her seat. The Spaniard cast an
inquisitive and somewhat angry glance at the young
Your brother, I presume ? said the Spaniard, in
a tone which sounded particularly impertinent in
Julie's ear.
"No, but a friend I esteem, Don Alberic,"
answered the young lady, somewhat scornfully.
"Don Alberic has come to invite my daughter and
me to a tournament, which is to take place at Brussels
in a few days, in honour of the marriage of the Prince
Alexander and Donna Maria of Portugal; but I know
not whether she is disposed to go. For myself, my
duties are so onerous, that in spite of the honour done
me by the invitation, it may be difficult for me to
accept it."
"But surely the young lady, with so gallant a
cavalier as the gentleman I see before me to attend on
her, will be able to come," said the Spaniard, bowing
towards the Lady Julie.
We are not ungrateful for your courtesy, Don
Alberic," said the young lady, and as I have never
seen such a spectacle, I may possibly, with the attend-
ant you propose, be able to be present."
Don Alberic cast an inquiring glance towards the
Lady Julie, as if he could not clearly understand the
meaning of her remark. He, however, was too much
a man of the world, not to be aware that it was
time for him to bring his visit to a close. Rising,
therefore, and making numerous bows, he began to
retire along the room towards the door, followed by
the Burgomaster, who in courtesy attended him to the

foot of the stairs. The young people laughed heartily
at the way the Spaniard had been mystified. They
were little thinking of the evil feelings which had
been aroused in his heart.
It will be truly, Marnix, a pleasant excursion
to see this grand tournament. Will you take me
there ? said Julie.
Marnix promised to do so, for it was to occur some
short time after their proposed marriage; and now, as
young people are apt to do, they looked forward with
eagerness to that happy event.


THE marriage of Marnix of Thoulouse and the fair
daughter of the Burgomaster of Antwerp took place,
according to the Lutheran form, in the house of the
bride's father. Julie was always lovely; she looked
more lovely still; and though her bridesmaids were
among the fairest of the fair daughters of the
principal inhabitants of Antwerp, none equalled her
in beauty.
The gallant young noble looked forward to a
life of unalloyed happiness in the company of his
beautiful bride. Happy it is for man that he does
not know what is in store for him. Marnix thought
not at the moment of the troubled state of the country,
nor that he himself was pledged to draw his sword in
its defence, and that when the sword is drawn, no
man can tell in whose bosom it may be sheathed.
The Burgomaster, on second thoughts, had resolved
to attend the tournament, knowing that on account of
his religious principles his loyalty might be suspected,

and wishing, therefore, to show all due respect to t0Lo
family of his sovereign.
Three days before the tournament, the Burgo.
master, accompanied by his daughter and son-in-law,
with several attendants, all handsomely attired, as
became his position as chief magistrate of the important
city of Antwerp, set out for Brussels.
Brussels was then, as now, a fine city, containing
many magnificent palaces, and surrounded by forests
full of game.
The lists were formed in the great market-place
of the city ; here all the principal persons then in
the Netherlands were present. Nothing could exceed
the magnificence of the arrangements. Seats covered
with damask formed a vast amphitheatre, while the
banners of the various knights and their retainers
were planted on either side. At one end, marked by
the richness of the banners. the judges of the jousts
took their seats. They w ,j the Duke of Parma, the
Duke of Aershot, and C(cat Egmont. In their midst
sat the lady of the lists, from whose fair hands the
winners of prizes were to receive their rewards.
Where there were so many great and noble people,
the Burgomaster of Antwerp and his family took but
a comparatively humble place, yet it was sufficiently
conspicuous to be seen from the lists, the Lady Julie
being seated between her husband and father. From
the richness and fashion of her dress it might have
been suspected that she was married, although her
wedding had been so quiet that the event might pro,
bably not have been known in Brussels. Spectators
were thronging to their seats through the various en-
trances, while every window, and every spot whence a
view could be obtained from the surrounding houses,
were crowded with eager gazers. Now the trumpets

sounded, and the knights, in gorgeous armour, rode
into the lists. Among the most conspicuous was the
Count Louis of Nassau, the brother of the Prince
of Orange. Though of slight figure, and somewhat
small of stature, he bore himself with grace and
elegance on horseback, having complete command
over his steed. Count Bossu appeared in a dark suit
of armour; stout of limb, and with fine proportions,
he appeared well able to do battle in the lists. Then,
too, came Philip de Lannoy, Seigneur de Beauvoir,
the commander of the Duchess's body-guard in
Brussels. He had already gained renown in arms,
and was a champion few but the most dextrous would
have wished to encounter. Count Mansfield rode
into the lists accompanied by his son Charles, acknow-
ledged among his compeers as one of the most
expert knights in the use of lance and sword.
There were Spanish as well as Flemish knights.
Among the most gallant in appearance was Don
Alberic Lodron, accompanied by his friend, Don
Sancho de Lodrono ; indeed, on this occasion, men
of very opposite parties assembled to encounter each
other, some, perhaps, anxious to meet on a more
bloody and desperate field, in the work of real
warfare. The Seigneur de Beauvoir made the most
splendid appearance, with his jewelled armour and his
attendant squires.
Now the trumpets sounded, and Count Mansfield
and his son challenged one and all who might choose
to engage in the mimic combat. Two knights
answered the challenge. Again the trumpets sounded,
and both the parties dashing forward the Count and
his son unhorsed their opponents. Among the Spanish
knigits, Don Alberio Lodron bore himself gallantly.
Each knight vwa desirous to select a lady for

the superiority of whose charms he was ready to do
battle. As the knights were seen riding round the lists,
g zing up towards the fair ones who were witnesses
of their gallantry and hardihood, Don Alberio drew
up his horse in fronri of the seats occupied by the
Burgomaster and his family. Bowing low, the Spanish
knight presented her with a bouquet, expecting in
return to receive her glove that he might fasten
it in his helmet. She declined, however, taking it
off, acknowledging his salutation only with a formal
Anger and annoyance were depicted on his coun-
tenance--the visors of the knights were raised for the
occasion, it should be said. Waiting for a moment,
as if to ascertain that he was not mistaken, he spurred
on his charger, and continued his course round the
The single combats having been brought to a con-
clusion, Count Charles of Mansfield being declared the
most successful, Count Louis of Nassau and Count
Bossu being but little behind him, preparations were
made for a general combat, in which all the knights
were to arrange themselves in two parties, under
respective leaders. More than once during the fights
Marnix had with difficulty kept his seat.
I would that I were among those gallant gentle-
men," he could not help exclaiming; and yet, after all,
it is but a mimic fight, and except to gain experience,
it may be folly to exhaust one's strength when it may
be required for the real work of war."
Julie smiled on her husband. I am afraid that I
am the cause of your being a spectator iistoad of au4
actor on the scene," she said,
"lNo, no, indeed/ he si -wered; d'1 have had byb
liftle praotio m 1 U aS40 work, and I fear Julie, you

would not have cause to be proud of the prowess of
your true knight. I am happier far by thy side; still,
I own I should like to have broken a lance with that
haughty Spaniard who seemed so indignant just now
that you would not honour him by selecting him as
,your true knight."
While they were speaking, the trumpets again
sounded, and the two parties of knights, each consist-
ing of about thirty, one led by Louis of Nassau, the
other by Count Bossu, drew up on opposite sides. The
Seigneur de Beauvoir and Don Alberic had arranged
themselves under the banner of the Count of Bossu,
while Count Charles of Mansfield supported his friend
Count Louis of Nassau. Once more the trumpets
sounded, and the knights met in the centre of the
lists with a shock which made the very ground shake,
and amid clouds of dust caused by the horses' hoofs,
they were seen struggling desperately; some unhorsed,
lay on the ground, others with spears broken were
waving their swords, which rang against the shields of
their opponents. The most conspicuous for his activity
was the gallant Count Louis of Nassau. His spear
had been broken in unhorsing his first opponent, and
now he was wheeling in and out, and dashing here and
there like a meteor, dealing blows which hurled many
of the opposite party to the ground. As blunt weapons
only had been used, and the swords were pointless, no
desperate wounds had been inflicted, although many of
the knights were more or less bruised or otherwise hurt
by their overthrow.
The young bride was thankful when the sports
came to an end. They were, in truth, not in accordance
with her taste. She had not expected to see so serious
a struggle as was taking place. The exhibition,
indeed, brilliant and exciting as it was, was too much

like a scene of real warfare to afford pleasure to a
sensitive mind. The combats, however, were very
different to those of former years, when sharp swords
"and pointed lances were used, and many a knight lost
his life in the struggle.
A grand supper was given by the city of Brussels
in the Hotel de Ville on that evening, in honour of the
royal marriage, when the prizes gained at the tourna-
ment were bestowed on the successful knights. The
Burgomaster and his family were of course among the
guests. Nothing could exceed its magnificence, but
amid all the apparent hilarity, many hearts ached
when thoughts of the unhappy state of the country
would unbidden arise.


NEXT morning, the iBurgomaster, accompanied by
Marnix and Julie, returned to Antwerp. They had
proceeded some distance on their way, when the
sound of horses' hoofs were heard behind them, and
a party of cavaliers was seen coming along the road.
The travellers dr'ow up a little way on one side, to
allow the more active-moving cavaliers to pass, when
a loud, hearty voice proceeded from one of them :-
What! Marnix Is it true, then, that you have
become a Knight of St. Benedict ? Introduce me, I
pray, to your fair lady, and to her honoured father,
who, I conclude, I see before me."
It was Count Brederode who spoke. Marnix went
through the usual ceremony, the companions of the
Count at the same time doffing their plumed beavers
in token of respect.


You are indeed a fortunate fellow," said Brede-
rodo, as he rode up alongside Marnix, in a voice
sufficiently loud, however, for Julie to hear. You
will, I fear, be loss inclined than before to join the
ranks of the patriots."
On the contrary, I have more to fight for,"
answered Marnix. I am loyal to a right cause, and
hope that nothing will seduce me from it."
Probably the Burgomaster, would have been glad
to be rid of his new companion, but without discour-
tesy he could not either drop behind and beg them to
proceed at a faster pace, or avoid them altogether.
Thus, towards evening, the whole party rode into
Antwerp, and the intimacy of the Burgomaster with
the plotting, boisterous Count Brederode was remarked
by many. It was indeed an anxious time for Antony
Van Straalen. He knew well all that was taking place
in the country, and felt very sure that ere long there
would be a fearful outbreak.
The young couple, however, for a short time en-
joyed unmitigated happiness. They were well aware
that disturbances were likely to break out, but, with
the sanguine temperament of youth, they hoped that
the clouds would quickly be dispersed, and the sun
shine forth again on their native land. Thus, when-
ever they spoke of the future, they allowed their feel-
ings to colour it with bright and beautiful tints. Still,
to thoughtful minds, the present was truly dark and
depressing. To worship God according to the dictates
of conscience is one of the chief rights of man. Of that
right Philip had been using every effort to deprive
his subjects in the Netherlands. The fearful Inquisi-
tion, as has been said, had been established throughout
the country, and, though occasionally its ministers

seemed to relax in their labours, every lull was stiro
to be followed by a still fiercer persecution.
Prohibited from worshipping in the churches the
people had sought the fields and open country, where
they might hear the preachers whose opinions they
followed, and where they might praise God and pray
as they were disposed. At those meetings, which
many thousands of persons attended, most of the men
were armed, to defend themselves against any attacks
of the officers of government. Even in the very
neighbourhood of Antwerp these camp gatherings were
held, when preachers of great power and ability ad-
dressed them. To these meetings, Marnix, on several
occasions, took his bride, and they tended not a little
to increase his enthusiasm, and to inspire her with the
same love of the truth and hatred of tyranny which
animated his bosom.
At length an event occurred at Antwerp which
was sure to draw down upon the inhabitants the
fury of the ruling powers. The mob arose, and
breaking into the churches, a small body of the
most determined attacked the images and ornaments
with which they were crowded, breaking them in
pieces, or utterly defacing them. Meantime the
League was gaining strength and numbers, and the
whole country seemed ready to rise in arms in defence
of its liberties. The Prince of Orange had for long
been watching with a calm and sagacious eye the
current of events. No more true patriot existed in
the country, but it had appeared to him that the time
of action had not yet arrived. There was indignation
and excitement enough, but union was wanting among
the people, and their oppressors were powerful. This
the latter soon showed by recommencing the system
of persecution. Once more, men, women. and even


children, were dragged from their homes, and, being
accused of heresy, were put to death by the authori-
ties of the Inquisition in the most cruel manner. The
preachers had to fly the country or to go into hiding.
Vast numbers of persons who could manage to escape,
left their native shores and went to England. The
larger proportion were manufacturers and artisans,
who took their talents and their arts to the country
which gave them an asylum, and there established
those manufactures which have contributed so much
to make England great, powerful, and free. There
were weavers in linen, in wool, and silk, paper manu-
facturers, workers in iron and all sorts of metals, who
not only practised the trade themselves, but instructed
the English in their own arts; so that not only were
the articles which England required produced in the
country, but she was able to supply foreign nations,
which had hitherto been furnished with those manu-
factures from the Netherlands. The Prince of Orange
already began to see that the time was fast approach.
ing when, if he would save his country from utter
destruction, he must draw the sword in its defence.
Other less cautious, or more enthusiastic persons,
began to take up arms. Among the foremost was
Count Brederode. The larger part of the population
of Antwerp was in a state of violent commotion, and the
Regent, fearful of a general outbreak, had entreated
the Prince of Orange to go to the city and endeavour to
quell it. Count Brederode had been scouring the neigh-
bouring country to collect an army, eager to be the
first in the field to oppose the Imperial forces. Already
he had assembled some thousand men, but they had
to be disciplined, and arms and ammunition were to be
collected. Their immediate object was to march to
the relief of the town of Valenciennes. That city,


pleasantly situated in a fertile valley, with the Scheldt
flowing through its centre, near the border of France,
was surrounded with strong fortifications and deep
moats. Here Guido de Bray, and Peregrine de la
Grange, two celebrated preachers, had been the means
of bringing the larger part of the population to the
Protestant faith. The government had insisted on
their receiving a garrison, which the inhabitants had
refused doing. It was therefore invested by an army
under Count Egmont and the Duke of Aershot, who
threatened utter destruction to the inhabitants for
their rebellion and heresy. Marnix of Thoulouse had
been longing to take a part in the struggle which was
about to commence. Again Count Brederode made
his appearance at Antwerp. Julie herself had become
as enthusiastic as her young husband. The cruelties
daily perpetrated on her countrymen had filled her
gentle breast with indignation.
"I must attend a meeting to-night at Count Bre-
derode's residence," said Marnix to her; "and, Julie,
if I am called upon to draw the sword, I can no longer
refuse. You would not wish me to do so, even though
I must thus be parted from you."
Go, my husband," said Julie, "I would that
women were more calculated to fight than they are,
for I would thankfully accompany you to the field.
My heart will go with you; my prayers will follow
The meeting at Count Brederode's was attended
by most of the more ardent patriots then at Antwerp.
TIhey each wore a rough leather wallet, with a wooden
bowl and spoon attached to a belt at their sides, to
show that they belonged to the "Gueux," or
" Beggars, -a title given to the patriots by their
haughty oppressors, and which they had voluntarily

adopted. One and all agreed that the time for action
had arrived.
"I tender my sword and the best services I can
render to the cause," said Marnix, rising from his seat
after numerous enthusiastic speeches had been made
by the assembled members of the confederacy.
A few urged that they should wait until the Prince of
Orange was prepared to put himself at their head.
"liHe is so slow-moving and over-cautious, that
the time of action may have passed before he will
declare himself," exclaimed Brederode. If we wait
till he sets the example, we may wait in vain. Let us
march at once on Valenciennes, and then returning
victorious, we may dictate our own terms to the
Regent at Brussels. Marnix of Thoulouse, to you I
will commit the charge of our first recruits. Although
young in years, you will soon, I am sure, show that
you not only possess courage, but wisdom and fore-
The other speakers uttered similar expressions,
and Marnix agreed to take command of the first body
of insurgents which had been collected. The meeting
now broke up. Marnix was among the last to leave
the hall. Count Brederode had taken no precautions
to guard against treachery. He remained at the
entrance of the house for some time, detaining Marnix,
and explaining more fully to him the plans he had
"I see, my noble young friend, you must be my
lieutenant, my second in command, when once we
unfurl the standard of freedom. In a short time I
trust we may sweep our tyrants from the land. We
have too long submitted to their cruelties and in-
While they were speaking, Marnix caught sight of


a person stealing across the entrance of the hall. Hoe
was evidently, from his movements, anxious to escape
observation. Marnix was on the point of springing
back into the hall to seize the man, when he darted by
him; and though he and Count Brederode instantly
made chase, the spy, if such he was, escaped them.
It matters not," said Brederode. "'Once in
arms with our forces collected, we may care little if
all the world knows our proceedings. And now, my
friend, you must be prepared to-morrow morning to
accompany me to the rendezvous I have appointed for
our recruits."
The parting between the young hero and his lovely
bride can be better supposed than described.
At ant early hour the next morning, Marnix accom-
panied Count Brederode. They proceeded some way
down the banks of the Scheldt, till they arrived at- a
spot where a vessel was waiting for them. On board
were a number of recruits, under the command of
a gentleman named Van der Aa, who had, a short
time before, been compelled by the Prince of Orange
to leave the city, in consequence of his activity in
collecting men for the proposed rebellion.
Van de Aa reported that several other vessels with
recruits were waiting a short way down the river, and
Brederode at once proposed, that when all were
collected, they should make a dash at the cities of
Flushing and Middleburg, in the island of Walcheren,
possession of which would greatly forward their cause.
They soon reached the expected vessels, which num-
bered about twenty small craft, and found that their
force amounted to about fifteen hundred men. They
were, however, without discipline, none of the officers
having had experience in actual warfare. Still, their
numbers gave them confidence, and they proceeded on

to Flushing. The citizens, however, had received
notice that Count Egmont, with a strong force, con-
templated advancing on the island of Walcheren.
They therefore, through fear, refused to receive the
liberators. Middleburg behaved in the same manner,
from a like cause, and at length it was determined that
the expedition should return up the Scheldt, and land-
ing in the neighbourhood of Antwerp, there await the
arrival of numerous other levies which were expected.

IT was of serious consequence that Marnix and Count
Brederode did not overtake the person they had
pursued, whom they saw escaping from their place
of meeting. He was a Fleming, one Bertram,
employed by Don Alberic Lodron as a spy on the
patriots. He hastened to his master, who had come
over to Antwerp in secret to ascertain what was
taking place. All the plans of the Count were thus
made known to Don Alberic.
"It is well," said the Spaniard, I can now wreak
my vengeance on the head of one whom I have cause
so heartily to hate. Do you, Bertram, join yourself to
the rebels, and make your escape as soon as you have
more important information to bring me. Come to
Brussels, where I will await you. Here are these gold
pieces for the present, but you shall receive a more
ample reward should you bring me information of
importance of which I can take advantage."
"Don't fear me, Seigneur," answered the traitor;
and after some further arrangements had been made
he returned to his home, while, the next morning, Don
Alberic in careful disguise set off for Brussels.

Meantime, while Count Brederode was engaged
in recruiting throughout the neighboring country,
Marnix and his followers, proceeding up the Scheldt,
landed in the neighbourhood of Antwerp, at a little
village called Ostrawell, within sight of the city. The
young general, though without experience, had the
eye of a soldier, and selected his position with great
judgment. In his rear he had the broad Scheldt
and its dykes, which afforded ample protection from
any attacks likely to be made on him; on his right
and left, were other dykes as well as the village;
while he immediately ordered his men to throw up
a breastwork in front of the position, and to sink a
deep trench.
We may here bid defiance to any foes who may
come against us, Count," said Van der Aa, who was
acting as his lieutenant. "The Spaniards will scarcely
dare to attack so strong a place; and if they do, our
brave followers will drive them back with disgrace."
Our followers sadly want training though," said
Marnix; we must lose not a moment in getting them
into discipline."
This judicious resolve was instantly put into execu-
tion, and those few who had seen service among them,
were appointed as drill officers. It was hard work,
though, as many of the recruits were scarcely ac-
quainted with the use of firearms. Numbers, too,
came flocking daily into the camp, so that in the
course of a few days three thousand men had placed
themselves under the young Count's standard.
If any one by individual courage and energy could
have inspired his followers with enthusiasm, Marnix
of Thoulouse would have done so. Pointing to the
standard of revolt which he now hoisted, he addressed
them in eloquent and fiery words. He reminded them

of the treachery and falsehood of King Philip, of his
bigotry and cruelties, and the fearful sufferings to which
their country had been so long subjected.
We have now drawn the sword, my friends," he
added; we must never sheath it till our just and holy
cause has been gained. We must be ready to sacrifice
our fortunes, our time, our strength, and our lives to
the attainment of that noble object."
Loud shouts burst from the throats of his followers,
and one and all vowed to fight bravely for the cause,
and never to yield while life remained. Among those
who made themselves most conspicuous, was a man
of middle age, somewhat small of stature, whose torn
double and the general faded appearance of his costume
bespoke his poverty. No one seemed to know from
whence he had come, but his tongue showed that he
was a Fleming, while by his language it might be
supposed that he was an ardent patriot. On presenting
himself before Marnix, he stated that he had seen some
service, and hoped that he might be employed in drilling
the recruits. It was evident, from the way he set to
work, that in that respect he was no pretender. Having
thus shown his talent, he requested that he might be
appointed an ofBcer. Veteran soldiers being scarce,
Marnix, without hesitation, granted his request.
I regret," he added, that I am not able to pre-
sent you with a habit more suited to your rank."
"That matters little," was the answer. "YWe are
all beggars here, and we may hope ere long to have an
opportunity of supplying our need from the spoils of
the enemy "
In a few days he had contrived to worm. himself
into the confidence of Van der Aa, thou-gh the younr
general himself was too acute an observer of his fello
men to trust him altogether. There wa s LomethinE

in the countenance of the man, and his constant profes-
sions of patriotism, which made him doubt his honesty.
By untiring energy Marnix had at length got his
followers into something like discipline; but still,
as he reviewed them, he could not help feeling that
they possessed enthusiasm alone to make up for their
yet great want of that necessary qualification of
soldiers. All this time, although so near the object
of his deepest affections, he had not ventured to leave
his camp. At length, however, unable to restrain his
feelings, he resolved to pay his beloved wife a brief
visit, leaving his lieutenant in charge, with orders to
maintain the strictest discipline, to send out scouts to
give timely warning of the approach of an enemy, and
to let no one leave the camp. Throwing a plain cloak
over his shoulders, and a hat which concealed his
features, as soon as darkness came on, he hurried away
towards Antwerp. His departure, however, had not
been unobserved, and in spite of the vigilance of Van
der Aa, one man at all events was found to have left
the camp, and though a party was sent after him, he
managed to elude them.
The Lady Julie was seated in her boudoir. Her
embroidery lay untouched by her side, her eyes were
resting on a book, but the page before her conveyed
no meaning to her mind. Her thoughts were away at
the camp 'at Ostrawell. Care and anxiety were at her
heart. She had heard accounts of the threatened dis-
turbances in the city. The inhabitants of all ranks,
but especially the populace, were taking up arms. The
Prince of Orange was in command, a post he had
assumed as hereditary Burgrave of Antwerp. Those
who knew him best were awaro that he had already
resolved to support the cause of liberty, but the people
generally did not fully trust liw.

Count Hoogstraaten, a brave and generous young
nobleman, who had like the prince become a Protes-
tant, and who for some time before had been acting
as governor of the city, was now associated with him
in the command. They together were doing their
utmost to tranquillize the minds of the inhabitants,
and were ably supported by the Burgomaster, Van
Straalen, and other magistrates of the city.
Julie's quick ear caught a footstep on the stair.
She rose from her seat, and as she reached the door,
she found herself in the arms of her young husband.
"I have been able to steal but a few moments from
my duties," he exclaimed, as he embraced her tenderly,
"Cc and believe me, Julie, it has been a sore trial to keep
away from you so long; but you I know, my sweet wife,
sympathize thoroughly with me, and have shared my
"I would not ask you to desert your duty," said
Julie, looking into his face, "but I would that our
prince would give you more support, and allow the
many brave men who are anxious to join you to leave
our gates."
"One glorious victory gained, Julie, will decide
him," answered Marnix. For that we must earnestly
Brief was the conversation of the young couple.
I promised myself but a few moments of hap-
piness," said Marnix at length. I must leave you
now, Julie, and hasten back to the camp. I do not
wish my absence to be known, nor will I communicate
with any one in the city, not even with your father."
Going so soon ?" Julie could not. refrain from
It may be but for a few short days," answered
her husband. Brederode hopes soon to join me wit>


a force of six thousand men, and together we may
then march forward to the relief, of Valenciennes, and
afterwards to dictate a glorious peace at Brussels."
Marnix impressed an ardent kiss on his wife's
cheek, and unwilling longer to delay, with a weight at
his heart at being thus compelled so speedily to leave
her, he hastened from the house, and hurried back to
the camp. Still greater would have been his grief
had he known what was about to occur.
Scarcely had he returned, when his lieutenant
reported to him that the recruit who had been so
active in drilling the men was nowhere to be found,
and that it was supposed he had quitted the camp.
So in truth he had. He was no other than Bertram-
the spy employed by Don Alberic. The traitor made
his way, as fast as a horse he had in waiting could
carry him, to Brussels. He soon found his employer,
who seemed highly pleased with the information he
had brought him.
If the camp were unexpectedly attacked, the
defenders, in spite of their enthusiasm and boasts,
might be speedily overcome," said Bertram. "If
taken by surprise, those ill-trained bands will be
unable to stand a moment against the disciplined
troops of Spain."
Don Alberic, on receiving this information, hastened
off with it to the Seigneur de Beauvoir. "It is well
thought of," said De Beauvoir.
The latter officer at once went to the Duchess,
who was at the moment in consultation with Count
Egmont. The Regent listened to the proposal with
no little trepidation. If our troops are defeated, the
whole province will be up in arms," she answered.
"Defeat shall be made impossible!" replied De
Beauvoir. I ask but for four hundred of the body-
i- "


guard, and an equal number of Count Egmont's
veteran Walloons. With them under me, victory will
be certain!"
No time was lost. De Beauvoir selected some of
his most experienced officers, under whose charge were
placed the helmets, bucklers, arquebuses, corselets,
spears, standards, and drums of the troops, and by
them were conveyed in waggons, supposed to contain
stores of provisions, to the Abbey of St. Bernard,
within a league of Antwerp. The men, meantime,
were sent off in small bodies, to avoid suspicion, armed
only with sword and dagger. Before daybreak they
had assembled at the abbey, where their commander
and his officer met them. They were here refreshed,
and received their accoutrements. De Beauvoir then
addressed them :-
My brave soldiers, true sons of the church,
victory is certain; the heretics will be destroyed.
Understand that you are to march forward with furled
banners, and without beat of drum. Not till you can see
the faces of the foe, is an arquebus to be discharged.
The foremost section will then deliver its fire, and,
retreating to the rear, load; while the next section
will take its place. If these commands are obeyed,
our success is secured, and the wretched rebels anni-


THE small army of Marnix of Thoulouse was in high
spirits. Information was brought that the govern-
ment in Brussels were in dismay, and that the whole
population of Antwerp were rising to join the patriots.

Many more recruits came to the camp, and the work
of disciplining them went on with unbated energy.
The young general had just stepped out of the
hut which served as his abode, although the dawn of
that March morning had not yet broken, when suddenly
an arquebus was fired by one of the sentries. It was
followed by others along the line.
"Troops are approaching !" exclaimed Van der Aa,
hastening up to Marnix.
"They must be, then, I trust, a detachment of
Brederode's army," he exclaimed; we will welcome
them joyfully." As he spoke, the trumpets of the
advancing force brayed loudly forth, while sudden
shouts rent the air.
The garrison hastened to their entrenchments to
return the supposed greeting. "Welcome to our
friends welcome !" was shouted along the line.
In a short time, however, the grey light of the
early dawn revealed the serried ranks of well-armed
men, while above them waved their banners, just then
unfurled, with crosses emblazoned on them.
"They are the Spaniards; they are our foes !"
cried the young general. My brave followers, fight
like men. You fight for everything we hold sacred.
Defend our breastworks, and we shall soon beat back
the hated foe. Wait till they are so close that not a
shot can miss its aim.'
With these and similar words Marnix flew along
the lines, endeavouring to inspire his followers with
the noble enthusiasm which animated his own bosom.
They came, some at a rapid pace, others lagging
a little, up to the lines, but the hearts of many began
to quail at the unexpected appearance of the well-
disciplined foe. Instead of firing deliberately, as their
general had urged them to do, many fired wildly over

the heads of their assailants, whose bullets, aimed too
well, struck them down immediately they appeared.
On came the Spaniards and Walloons in compact
order. The ditch was reached. The veteran troops
dashed across it, and now, with stern shouts, charged
over the breastwork.
In vain the patriots struggled, in vain Thoulouse
and his officers, setting an heroic example, attempted
to defend the fort. Many fought bravely desperately !
but what is bravery without discipline ? The bodies of
those who fell served as a rampart for the survivors.
Still the assailants advanced, keeping each foot of
ground they won. Backwards the raw levies were
driven by the Spaniards and Walloons, who, as they
advanced, mercilessly cut down all whom they
During that morning, the 13th of March, 1567,
a wild tumult was prevailing in Antwerp. Already
ten thousand men were up in arms. Suddenly, while
the shades of night were still lingering in the city, the
inhabitants were aroused by the sound of drums and
trumpets, the sharp rattle of fire-arms, and the shouts
of men engaged in furious combat.
They hurried to the ramparts overlooking Ostra-
well, whence the sounds proceeded. Some climbed
to the roofs of houses, others to towers of churches,
till every spot was occupied whence a view of the
scene of action could be obtained. Excited men
thronged the streets, armed with lance, spike, or
arquebus. Some bore huge hammers, others had the
partisans, battle-axes, and huge two-handed swords
of the previous century. They were rushing towards
the Red Gate, that towards Ostrawell having been
destroyed the night before by the command of

Page 37.
"Burgomaster's Daughter."


Shouts and cries came from the spectators on the
walls. Soon they broke into mournful wails. Our
friends are giving way! In vain they strive! The
hated foe are gaining the victory. On they -arch.
The patriots are flying. Alas! alas! fearful is the
slaughter." These cries told too truly what was
taking place.
Meantime, a lady, young and graceful, was seen
moving amid the furious crowd.
"Friends! townsmen! our countrymen are being
overpowered! Who among you, with the hearts of
men, will refuse to hurry to their assistance ? I will
lead you! My noble husband is striving for the
cause of freedom! Your very existence depends on
the struggle !"
It was the young wife of Marnix of Thoulouse
who spoke. Her very nature seemed changed. Rising
suddenly from her couch at the sound of battle, and
hastily robing, she had hurried to the ramparts, and
there, with aching eyes, witnessed the commencement
of the fight. Her hair escaping from confinement
was waving in the morning breeze. Taking a sword
from a bystander, she descended from the ramparts
and flew from street to street, imploring her co-
religionists to save their perishing brothers, or avenge
their deaths. Many eagerly obeyed the call, but when
they reached the Red Gate, they found it shut.
As true a patriot as ever breathed, with a wisdom
and courage unsurpassed, issued the order prohibiting
any of the inhabitants from leaving the city. He had
observed what was taking place at Ostrawell. He
knew too well that the day was lost, and that the most
devoted heroism could not retrieve it.
The vast mob, indignant at being opposed, were
crying out for vengeance on the head of their truest

friend, declaring him a traitor to the cause of liberty.
When the tumult was at its height, two men of noble
mien rode into their midst; the one was the Prince of
Orange, the other his brave colleague, Count Hoog.
Die, traitorous villain !" cried a furious citizen
from among the mob, levelling an arquebus full at his
breast. C Thou art the cause that our brethren have
perished thus miserably in yonder field !"
The trigger was pulled, but another hand in the
mob struck up the weapon, and the missile, intended
to deprive the prince of life, flew wide of the mark.
Unmoved by the circumstance, the prince now
addressed the mob, with words calm and full of dignity;
and at length appeased, they consented to obey his
orders. A band of five hundred, however, sallied
forth to oppose the enemy. Their appearance caused
the death of many hundred prisoners whom De Beau-
voir had taken, for immediately ordering his soldiers
to shoot them, he advanced towards the city with
drums beating and colours flying.
The patriot citizens seeing themselves outnumbered
by the victorious enemy retreated, and De Beauvoir,
advancing close up to the city moat, planted the banners
of the unfortunate Thoulouse on its margin. No attack,
however, was made on him, and he marched away in
What words can picture the anguish of the Lady
Julie In vain she entreated to be allowed to go out
and search for her husband; but her father, with kind
force, restrained her, and at length, when it was
ascertained that the enemy had finally taken their de-
parture, a party were despatched to learn the truth.
They returned bearing a mangled corpse. It was that
of the brave young soldier who had thus fallen on his


first field, hewlw almost to pieces by his barbarous

For some days the city remained in a state of the
most fearful disturbance, the larger part of the popula-
tion having taken up arms to destroy the Romanists
and all who might oppose them.
At one time, indeed, it seemed impossible that a
terrible scene of bloodshed could be averted. By
the boldness and discretion of the Prince of Orange,
however, at length the minds of the population were
tranquillized, and those who a short time before
had been thirsting for each other's blood, were now
exchanging friendly greetings.
The Calvinists, Lutherans, and lomanists laid
down their arms, and the artillery and other weapons
they had taken from the arsenals were returned. The
city was once more in quiet.


NEARLY a year had passed; grief had dimmed the
Lady Julie's eye, and paled her cheek, yet hope sus-
tained her. She looked forward to meet her husband
in another and better world, where strife, and the
miseries which sin has produced, are no more to be
found; where those once united can never part. She
had lived on with her father, and she found in the
exertions she made to support and comfort him in his
sorrow for the miseries and sufferings of his country,
a solace for her own anguish.
Events of importance had occurred. Valenciennes
had fallen when most of its inhabitantsL were bar-

barously butchered. Count Brederode had retired
from the confederacy, and was dying, it was said, of
disappointment and hard drinking, an event which
shortly afterwards took place. Many of the other
leaders had been captured and executed, and in every
city and village of the Netherlands, executions of
numbers considered obnoxious to the government were
daily taking place.
The Duke of Alva, destined to be the scourge of
the country, had arrived at Brussels accompanied by
a strong body of veteran warriors, trained to commit
every atrocity which warfare can produce. Hope
might have deserted the breast of the most sanguine,
had not William of Orange at length come forward as
the champion of freedom, and he now, assisted by his
gallant brother Louis of Nassau, by Hoogstraaten, by
the noble St. Aldegonde, and others, was collecting
forces to oppose the persecutors of his country.
The young widow was seated by the side of her
father, Antony Van Straalen, when a visitor was
announced. A flash of annoyance passed over her
countenance when Don Alberic Lodron entered the
apartment. He advanced with an air of confidence and
assumption, which yet further increased her indigna-
tion; yet the father and daughter were too courteous
not to receive the guest, even though an unwelcome
one, with propriety, and rising, they begged Don
Alberic to be seated.
To what circumstance am I indebted for the
honour of a visit ?" said the Burgomaster, finding
that the Spaniard did not commence the conver-
"I wish to pay my respects to one whose beauty
and accomplishments merit them," answered Don
Alberic, bowing low to Lady Julie,


"Don Alberic Lodron might be aware, that one
who has lately suffered a heavy affliction, cannot desire
to see strangers, except on matters of importance,"
answered the young widow, in a cold manner.
To me it is a matter of importance," said the
Spaniard, with a boldness which he would not have
ventured to use unless he had supposed that those to
whom he addressed himself were in his power.
I must request you, my father, to entertain this
gentleman," said the Lady Julie, rising. Such words
as he speaks annoy me, and I would avoid hearing
them." And bowing stiffly to the Spaniard, she glided
from the room.
"I have always been led to believe that the
Spaniards are a courteous nation," said the Burgo-
master. I cannot, therefore, suppose that you would
willingly annoy a lady who has sufficiently expressed
her sentiments towards you."
A father has power to induce his daughter to act
as he may think fit !" exclaimed the Spaniard. I
must hold you responsible, Mynheer Van Straalen, if
my expectations are thwarted."
Even had I ever wished to exercise undue paren-
tal authority over my daughter, I should not do so
now that she is a widow," answered the Burgomaster.
"I must therefore entreat you, as a cavalier of honour,
not further to mention the subject. She has already
expressed her sentiments, and I have reason to know
that they will not alter."
At length, indignant at the refusal he had received,
where he had presumptuously expected success, Don
Alberic left the house, and not long after returned to
Brussels, with information on various matters which
he had contrived to gain in Antwerp. A short time
after this, the Burgomaster received a summons from


the Duchess of Parma, to repair to Brussels on impor-
tant matters of business.
"Oh, my father! I dread your going there," said
his daughter; rather sacrifice your fortunes and
position in this city, than be ensnared by those
treacherous foes. Far better would it be to escape
to England, the land of freedom, than fall into the
power of the enemies who hate us."
The Burgomaster, however, would not listen to the
advice of his daughter. Surely," he said, except
that I am a Protestant, I have committed no act of
which the government can complain. The Duchess
has sent for me in a friendly spirit, and were I to show
distrust it would go far to prove my guilt."
Then let me go with you, my father," said Julie;
" you will very likely at all events have troubles and
annoyances, and I may tend to soothe your care if I
can do nothing else."
The Burgomaster was resolved to go, and forthwith
gave orders for his travelling equipage to be got ready.
His coach, though equal to any of that day, was some-
what large and heavy. After sallying forth by the
Brussels gate, he, with Julie by his side, proceeded
towards his destination.
Things will go well, father," said his daughter;
" I know not why I was alarmed. I have become timid
of late. I think I might even start at my own shadow."
They had proceeded some way, when, reaching an
open heath near which no human labitations were to
be found, suddenly the coachman pulled up, uttering
an exclamation of terror.
"What is the matter?" inquired the Bu rgomaster
putting his head from the window.
A band of horsemen are approaching, Burgo-
master," was the answer.


Oh, fly my father, fly !" cried the Lady Julie;
"they are enemies My worst forebodings are fal-
filled "
The coaihman turned his horses' heads and galloped
back towards Antwerp. As they were wheeling round,
Lady Julie looked from the window.
"C Alas !" she said, I see at their head Don Alberio
Lodron; I feared when he quitted us that his intentions
were evil, and now I know it too well."
The carriage had proceeded but a short dis-
tance when another party of horsemen were seen in
They are Spaniards by their dress," exclaimed
the coachman. We are lost! Burgomaster, we are
lost! "
The open country on every side precluded the
possibility of flight.
"We must sit still, my daughter, and submit to
our fate, whatever that may be," said the Burgomaster.
"1 For you, my daughter, I grieve the most, but Heaven
will protect you."
Scarcely had he spoken when the horsemen sur-
rounded the carriage. In the leader of one of the
parties, he recognized Don Alberic, and in the other
Don Sancho de la Lodrono, who had been one of the
combatants in the tournament at Brussels.
Yield yourself, Antony Van Straalen, as a prisoner,
in the name of King Philip, your lawful sovereign,"
said Don Alberic.
An authority I have never disputed," answered
the Burgomaster with dignity. "But, sir, I appeal
to you as a cavalier, and request that you will allow
my daughter to return to her home."
A request made by a prisoner I cannot accede to,"
answered Don Alberic. "'My orders are to convey


you, Antony Van Straalen, and all who accompany
you, as prisoners to Brussels."
"cOh, let me accompany you! let me accompany
you!" exclaimed the Lady Julie; "I would not be
parted from you, whatever may be the annoyances to
which I may be subjected."
Once more the horses' heads were turned towards
Brussels, and the unwilling coachman was compelled
to drive them along with a strong escort on each side.
Don Alberic several times rode up to the coach-window
endeavouring to engage the Lady Julie in conversation,
but the scornful silence with which she treated him,
compelled him at length to desist. On reaching the
neighbourhood of Brussels the carriage was again
Antony Van Straalen, you must accompany me,"
said Don Sancho; "you will not be permitted to com-
municate with any member of your family. The lady
can remain in the carriage if she so wishes."
In vain the young widow entreated to be allowed
to accompany her father. The Spaniards declared
that their orders were peremptory; and at length,
Don Sancho, losing patience, seized the Burgo-
master's arm, and was about to drag him from the
"I submit," said the magistrate in a dignified
tone; and embracing his daughter, he descended from
the carriage, and mounted the horse which had been
prepared for him.
The Lady Julie, on her own account, was some-
what relieved when she saw that only four horsemen
were left as an escort for the carriage, and that both
the Spanish officers were accompanying her father.
Still, nothing could mitigate her anxiety for him. For
herself she cared not, The coachman drove but

slowly; more than once the Spanish soldiers urged
him to greater speed.
My horses are weary," he answered, "and unless
you choose to change, and put your horses in, the
carriage cannot move faster."
Evening was rapidly coming on. Lady Julie had
lost sight of the calvacade which escorted her father.
At length one of the horses fell. The Spaniards
abused the coachman.
It was no fault of mine," he answered.
"Dismount now, and assist in getting the beast up
"While thus engaged, the Spanish soldiers abusing
the coachman, and the coachman returning their com-
pliments, their voices grew louder and louder. Sud-
denly there was a loud shout, and three of the horses,
the reins of which they had unwisely let go, flinging
out their heels, galloped off. The next instant a body
of men sprang out from a copse close at hand, with
reiterated shouts of "Vive les Gueux." The Spaniards
drew their swords, and endeavoured to defend them-
selves; but unable to parry the blows aimed at them,
those on foot were struck down. The fourth soldier
mounted his horse, and though many attempted to
stop him, with a blow of his sabre he clove the head
of one man, and cutting another across the shoulders,
escaped towards Brussels.
"Come, come, Peter "-for Peter the porter was
acting the part of coachman on this occasion,- up
with your horse Is the Burgomaster in the car-
riage ? asked the leader of the party.
""Alas! no, but his daughter is; and if we cannot
save him, we must save her," was the answer.
The fallen horse was not so much injured as Peter
had pretended, and was quickly on its legs again, and


a number of Beggars running alongside at full-speed,
accompanied the carriage back towards Antwerp.
Stop! Peter. Stop my friends. I would de-
sire to accompany my father," said Julie at length,
finding the direction in which they were going.
"Impossible! lady," answered one of the leaders
of the Beggars. "You will not be allowed to com-
municate with him, and your own life will be placed
in peril. Those savages care not on whom they inflict
In vain Julie pleaded.
They had proceeded some distance, when they
came to a wood where the roads branched off. Instead
of continuing back on the direct road to Antwerp,
they turned off on one side.
After what has occurred, it would be dangerous
for you to go back to the city," said the leader. "We
are about to proceed down the river to join a vessel
which is to proceed to Brill, where you will be secure.
We had intended to convey your father thither, had
we been successful in rescuing him from the hands of
the Spaniards. Your brother-in-law, St. Aldegonde,
is now there, and you can place yourself under his
protection. We are very sure that, in thus acting,
we are fulfilling the wishes of the Burgomaster, Van
Although Julie was still anxious to endeavour to
rejoin her father, even in prison, yet she was unable to
resist this proposal; indeed her somewhat rough pro-
tectors were evidently resolved not to listen to any
argument to the contrary. The carriage now pushed
on at a rapid rate. In a few hours the Scheldt was
reached, and she found herself conducted on board a
"Farewell, my good steeds 1" said Peter, looking


at his horses, but as I have no wish to hang or burn,
rather than remain with you, I will accompany my
young mistress."
The wind was fair, and the vessel rapidly proceeded
down the river. Brill was safely reached, and St.
Aldegonde did his utmost to console his sister-in-law.
The news soon reached them of the capture of the
Counts Egmont and Horn, and shortly after, of their
cruel and impolitic execution.

NOTWITr lTANDING the advice of St. Aldegonde, Julie
resolved to visit her father, and to attempt to obtain
his liberation. She took Peter into her counsels.
Although he knew well that he ran the risk of losing
his life, he was perfectly ready to assist his young
He obtained, by Julie's directions, the dress of a
female peasant for her, and that of an old countryman
for himself. Julie was to pass as his daughter, and
she hoped, thus disguised, to be able to reach Brussels.
Peter heard of a vessel about to proceed to Antwerp.
The night was dark, the wind blowing strong and
rain falling heavily. Notwithstanding the strife of the
elements, Julie and her faithful attendant issued from
the house, and making theirway down to the quay, got
safely on board the vessel. The captain, who had been
largely bribed through Peter, immediately got under
weigh. Though the voyage was boisterous, the vessel
reached Antwerp in safety. It was dark when Julie
and her faithful attendant landed. To her father's house
she dared not go. She had, however, several wealthy
friends in the city on whom she could rely. Still

fearing that should she appear in her peasant's dress
at one of their houses, suspicion would be aroused,
she resolved to go to the more humble abode of her
old nurse.
Peter knocked at the door.
"' Who are you ? What do you want at this hour
of the night ?" exclaimed the good woman from within.
"Let us in, kind Margaritte, and we will tell you,"
answered Peter. We crave a night's lodging, and
you will not refuse it when you see us."
Julie, seeing none near, ventured to add a few
words of entreaty. The bolts were quickly withdrawn,
but when the old woman's eyes fell on the seeming
peasant girl, she started back.
"Why, I thought it was --," she exclaimed,
gazing at her visitors.
"And you are right," answered Julie, as she hur-
ried into the house.
"What does it all mean?" exclaimed the old
woman. Then, recognizing the young lady, she put
her finger on her lips, and beckoned them into a room
on one side of the passage.
"I have lodgers," she whispered. They will over-
hear us."
Julie, in a few words, explained her object in re-
turning to Antwerp.
"Protect you, I will, while I have life," said the
old woman. "But oh, my dear young mistress, what
a fearful risk you are running;"
"Not greater than the object deserves," answered
Julie. "Had I the means I would proceed to Brussels
this very night."
Dame Margaritte, however, persuaded Julie to take
some rest.
"You shall lie down in my bed, and I will watch


over you as I have done many a time when you were a
little child," she said; and since you must go, Peter
will to-morrow try and find a conveyance for you to
Before daybreak Peter went out, leaving her still
resting, with old Margaritte seated by her side.
The dame's lodgers had gone out to their daily
avocations before Peter returned. His muddy shoes
showed that he had had a long walk.
I thought my old horses would find their way back
to their accustomed meadows, and I was not mistaken,"
he observed, as he sat down to eat the breakfast placed
before him; I had some work to catch Old Longtails,
but I have cropped him, so that I should scarcely know
him myself again, and obtained a pillion from a friend
on which the Lady Julie may ride without fear behind
Poor Julie, bidding dame Margaritte farewell,
sallied forth with the old man, and proceeded through
the streets of Antwerp. They at length reached the
outskirts of the town, where they found a boy holding
a horse, with a pillion on its back.
"Now, daughter, mount, and we will be on our
way," said Peter, giving the boy a small coin.
At length Brussels was reached. The most difficult
part of Julie's undertakings was now to begin. She
had only one acquaintance in the city on whose dis-
cretion she could rely. She resolved to visit her,
pretending that she and the old man had come up
about some business connected with their little plot of
land, and were anxious to obtain the interest of her
husband, who was a lawyer.
As soon as the servant had left the room, Julie
made herself known to her friend, who promised to
assist her by every means in her power.

My husband knows the jailer of the prison in
which the Burgomaster is confined," she said. He
has, I know, a daughter. If by any means she could
be induced to let you take her place, you would then
have an opportunity of visiting your father."
Julie's heart beat quickly at the suggestion. Her
friend forthwith sent for the young girl to her houso,
and explained the object to be attained. She was for-
tunately of a romantic and generous disposition, and
though not ignorant of the risk she ran, promised her
assistance. Julie, furnished with a suitable costume,
which still however disguised her sufficiently, set out
for the prison with the jailer's daughter.
The shades of evening were closing over the city
when they arrived. The jailer was about to go his
last round for the night, to see that all his prisoners
were safe before the watch was set. Julie had just
time to change dresses with her new friend.
"Do not be alarmed," said the latter, my father
will not speak to you, and he is to suppose that it is I
who am accompanying him."
Poor Julie's limbs trembled as she followed the
jailer through the long gloomy arched passages of the
prison. After opening and shutting several iron-
plated doors, he arrived before one, which, after cau-
tiously glancing up and down the passage, he opened.
Julie gazed in. On a trestle-bed, covered with a few
heaps of straw, she beheld her beloved father. She
sprang in, forgetting her assumed character; but the
jailer took no notice. She was not aware that her
generous friend had conveyed a purse of gold, and
had promised another, to assist in blunting his faculties.
The door was closed, and the father and his daughter
were in each other's arms. The particulars of the in-
terview cannot be described.


In vain, Julie entreated that she might be allowed
to plead with the Duke for his life. He strictly for-
bade her.
"No, Julie," he said, ": you have ever been a duti-
ful daughter, and for my sake I must enjoin you to
leave this unhappy place without delay. If the Duke
has resolved on my death, no power on earth can avert
my fate; but I am in the arms of One more powerful
than man. Go back, my beloved daughter, and again
place yourself under the care of the generous St. Alde-
gonde. When I know that you are safe, then the
thoughts of once more having beheld you, will bring
joy to my heart, and you must rest satisfied that you
have acted as a brave and loving child."
The old man and his daughter were not aware how
rapidly those precious moments had flown by, when
the door again opened, and the jailer beckoned to
Julie to accompany him.
We must hurry on with our tale.
In obedience to her father's commands, the next
morning, having resumed her peasant's dress, Julie
set off for Antwerp, and at length, escaping numerous
risks, arrived at Brill. St. Aldegonde, admiring her
courage and filial love, uttered no words of reproach,
but received her as if he had himself fully sanctioned
her undertaking.
Every day news came of the continuance of the
hanging, burning, drowning, and beheading of persons
of all ranks throughout the country. But why dwell
on this dreadful subject ? At length a messenger
arrived with the sad news that four persons of distinc-
tion were condemned to be beheaded. The most
worthy of them was the distinguished Burgomaster of
Antwerp. It was said, however, that even the Blood
Council, in sending the case to Alva for his sentence,


had felt some compunction at the impending fate of so
meritorious and excellent a man, and had recommended
him to mercy. In vain. It fell unheeded on the
tyrant's ear, and after having been subjected to fearful
torture on the rack, to elicit information, the venerable
magistrate was bound upon a chair, being unable to
stand, and with his companions was thus carried to
the scaffold, where all four were beheaded.
St. Aldegonde broke the information as gently as
he could to Julie. For some time he dreaded lest she
would sink under the blow, but though heart-broken,
the consolations of religion supported her. A vessel
was about to sail for England, with two ladies, whose
husbands had suffered on a previous occasion. St.
Aldegonde persuaded his sister-in-law to embark with
them, knowing the danger to which she would be
exposed should she return to Antwerp, and believing
that a total change of scene would alone restore her to
tranquillity of mind. Numerous Flemings, who had
escaped from the persecutions of King Philip and his
ready instruments, had already taken refuge in that
country. Among them the Lady Julie found sym-
pathizing friends, and there she passed the remainder
of her life, engaged in assisting, with the wreck of
her father's fortune, which had been secured for her,
those of her countrymen who, ruined by the tyranny of
their oppressors, had escaped with their lives alone to
the land of freedom, and where, under the wise and
beneficent rule of Queen Elizabeth, they had found
protection and liberty.

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1INE or ten thousand miles, as the ship sails,
or at the distance of a twenty days' voyage
from England, is the Cape of Good Hope,
in South Africa. Here there is a European
colony, called Cape Colony, and a town called Cape
Town, which were founded about two hundred years
ago by the Dutch, but which have been since given up
to the British Government; though a great many of
the present inhabitants are descendants of the old
Dutch colonists. These are principally farmers: they
are called Boers, and most of them still speak the
Dutch language.
Within the present century a good many people have
gone from Great Britain to Cape Colony as emigrants;
for the country has a fine climate and rich soil. So
there are English and Scotch farmers as well as Dutch.


There are towns also in different parts of the colony,
besides Cape Town, having much the appearance of
thriving towns in England. But it is of other matters
than these that I have to write.
When the Dutch began to colonize this country, they
very easily obtained their first lands from the natives,
in exchange for beads and other trinkets; and as soon
as they felt they had the power, I am sorry to say they
began to behave very unjustly and cruelly to the poor
Hottentots, as those native inhabitants were called.
They took possession of the best part of the Hottentot
country, robbed the natives of their cattle, and either
drove the poor people from their homes, to take refuge
in distant deserts, or made slaves of them.
And a terrible life these poor slaves led; for the
Boers came at last to have so many of them that they
were thought of little value as servants, and were
treated more like brute beasts than human beings.
They were made to go almost naked; and their food
was little better than carrion. All the wages they had
for their labour was a few strings of glass beads in the
year; and if, by any means, any of these poor wretches
happened to possess a few cattle, it was a great chance
if his master, the Boer, did not contrive some means
of getting rid of him, and keeping the cattle for his
own. If a Hottentot offended his master or mistress,
he was tied up to a waggon-wheel, and cruelly flogged
with a horrid whip made of rhinoceros bide. Or if a
Power took a serious dislike to any one of these unhappy
slaves, it was no uncommon thing to send him out on
some pretended message, and then to follow, and shoot
him on the road. And when thus put out of the way,
his poor Hottentot friends and relations durst not
make any inquiry about him, lest they too should be
severely punished, or perhaps murdered,


It was well for the badly-used IHottentots when
Cape Colony became a part of the British Empire;
for though, at first, their condition might not be much
mended, it became better by degrees, until at length
they were delivered from their cruel bondage. But
they did not get back the lands which had been taken
by force from their fathers.
The Dutch colonists used to speak and'write about
the Hottentots in such a way as to make people believe
that they had no more sense or feeling than brutes, and
that it was next to impossible to civilize them. Now,
if this had been true, it would have been no excuse for
their ill-treatment of the poor natives : but it was not
true. Certainly, the Hottentots were ignorant and
debased; but they were capable of receiving instruc-
tion, and of proving themselves to be thinking and
intelligent beings. Before they had the misfortune
to become acquainted with Europeans, they were a
numerous people, divided into tribes, and governed by
chiefs, as is the way with most uncivilized nations.
They did not cultivate the land, and their only steady
occupation was the care of their flocks of sheep and
herds of cattle, of which they had abundance. As
they lived in a warm country, they did not need much
clothing or shelter. A mantle of sheep-skins, sewed
together with threads of sinews, and made soft and
pliable by friction, served for a garment by day and a
blanket by night. A hut, framed of a few boughs or
poles covered with rush mats, which could be carried
from place to place on the backs of oxen, was a
sufficient protection from the weather. A bow and
poisoned arrows, and a light spear, were their only arms,
and were used alike for war and the chase.
Besides these, were tribes of wandering natives,
who were considered and treated by the Hottentots as


inferior to themselves. Very poor they were, and
wretched: they had neither flocks nor herds, but lived
upon what they could take in hunting, and on raw
roots, grubs, insects, and snakes. These Bushmen,
as they are called, are supposed to be the earliest re-
maining aborigines of South Africa, having been in
possession of the country prior to the Hottentots, and
long prior to the Caffres. They resemble the Hotten-
tots in some respects, as in colour and features, but in
others, and these more important, they differ from them.
These Bushmen have always been the terror of the
farmers of Cape Colony; for having been deprived
of their possessions, they soon became desperate and
revengeful; and, from being treated as wild beasts,
they became like wild beasts in habits and disposition.
A missionary, who lived among them some time, has
given a sad account of their character. He says, "Their
manner of life is extremely wretched and disgusting;
they delight to besmear their bodies with the fat of
animals mingled with ochre, and sometimes with grime.
They are utter strangers to cleanliness, as they never
wash their bodies, but suffer the dirt to accumulate, so
that it will hang a considerable length from their
elbows. Their huts are formed by digging a hole in
the earth, about three feet deep, and then making a
roof of reeds, which is, however, insufficient to keep
off the rains. Here they lie close together like pigs
in a sty. They are extremely lazy, so that nothing
will rouse them to action but excessive hunger. They
will continue several days together without food, rather
than be at the pains of procuring it. When compelled
to sally forth for prey, they are dexterous at destroy-
ing the various beasts which abound in the country;
and they can run almost as fast as a horse. They take
no great care of their children, and never correct them


except in a fit of rage, when they almost kill them by
severe usage. In the quarrel between father and
mother, or the several wives of a husband, the de-
feated party wreaks his or her vengeance on the child
of the conqueror, which in general loses its life. The
Hottentots seldom destroy their children, except in a
fit of passion; but the Bushmen will kill their children
without remorse, on various occasions; as when they
are ill-shaped, when they are in want of food, wheh
the father of a child has forsaken its mother, or when
obliged to flee from the farmers or others, in which
case they will strangle them, smother them, cast them
away in the desert, or bury them alive. There are
instances of parents throwing their tender offspring to
the hungry lion, who stands roaring before their cavern,
refusing to depart till some peace-offering be made to
This is a terrible picture of human nature; and as
these Bushmen are not, of course, more compassionate
towards those whom they consider their enemies than
they are towards their own children; and as, besides
their cruelty, they are daring robbers, we may readily
conclude that they cannot be safe or pleasant neigh.
bours. But it must not be forgotten that it was the
oppression of the white men that helped to make them
what they are ; and that if they have given the colonists
much reason to dislike them, they themselves have quito
as good reason to dislike the colonists, who, in former
times, at least, have not scrupled to hunt and kill them
whenever they had opportunity.
Beyond the Hottentot country, and hundreds of
miles from that part of the colony which lies near the
sea, are many nations of Africans, such as the Caffres
or Kafirs, the Bechuanas, and the Damaras. These
are of a race differing quite from the Hottentots and


Bushmen; but in one particular there is much resem4
blanco among them all, and that is, their ignorance and
superstition. In general, Africa may be described as
one of those "dark places of the earth" which "are
full of the habitations of cruelty." I shall have occa-
,ion to say more of this presently.
As this part of the world is exposed to the fiercer
rays of the sun, the natives are dark-skinned. Some
of the tribes are almost black, and others are very
brown. The Hottentots are not so dark as those who
live more in the interior of the country, but they are
very different in appearance from Europeans, both in
complexion and features.
There is also much difference with regard to the
country itself. In some parts, the land is fertile, and
the vegetation very beautiful, while in others the gl found
is rocky and dry, so that for miles and miles not a blade
of grass or a green leaf can be seen. And sometimes
the finest parts of the country are scorched up for want
of rain, so that even the beds of rivers are dried. Then,
when rain falls, it often falls in destructive torrents,
accompanied by fearful thunder-storms. Thus, the
farmers in Cape Colony have many risks to run, and
are exposed to great losses; and the poor natives are
obliged to wander from one part of the country to
another in search of water and food for themselves and
their cattle.
There are dangers, too, in Africa, from fierce ani-
mals, such as lions, tigers, panthers, hyenas, and other
boasts of prey, which attack men as well as cattle and
sheep, especially the lions. Other wild animals also
-abound, such as elephants, giraffes, buffaloes, rhino-
coroses, and deer of various kinds,-all of which furnish
rare sport to any person who is skilful and daring
enough to hunt them. Snakes and poisonous reptiles


there are, too, in great numbers ; and swarms of locusts
which, wherever they come, eat up every green thing,
and are, in their turn, eaten by the natives. In the
rivers are crocodiles; and the sea-cow, as the hippo-
potamus is sometimes called, haunts their banks, while
the ostrich roams in the wide deserts. In short, there
is no part of the world in which so many wild animals
are to be found as in Africa.
But wilder and fiercer are the natives themselves
when their bad passions rouse them. to make war on
each other. Then are seen some of the darker'shades
of the African character, in the savage cruelties which
are exercised, not only by the warriors upon each
other, but also upon helpless and unoffending women
and children.

--_--- -.-_-_. ..... -

-' - = E EE





NTWITIIHSTANDING all that the Dutch colonists said
about the Hottentots and Bushmen, there were some
persons who pitied them, and believed that if they were
stupid and ignorant and vicious, there was the more
need to attempt their instruction; and also that there
were better ways of instructing them than by tying
them to a waggon-wheel and flogging them. So, in the
year 1736, which was more than eighty years after the
colony was founded, a good German, named George
Schmidt-or Smith, as he would have been called in
England-left his native country, and went among the
wild Hottentots, at a place which is now known as
Genadendal, or the Vale of Grace, but which then went
by the name of Bavian's Kloof, or the Glen of Baboons.
This place was a secluded valley, a good distance from
Cape Town; and here George Schmidt built himself
a hut, cultivated a garden, and, by kindness, won the
affections of the ignorant natives.
You may fancy how scornfully some of the Dutch
colonists would look upon a man who had come all that
way from home for no other -purpose but to teach the
Hottentots; and how, if they ever met with him, they
would tell him he might as well try to make reasonable
beings of baboons. But Schmidt did not regard this.
He built a school for Hottentot children, and, though
he was ignorant of their language, he preached to the
older people by means of an interpreter. And it was
not long before they began to look upon him as their
friend, More than this, many of the poor despised


Hottentots listened to his instructions; and when he
told them of the love of God, in sending His dear Son
to be the Saviour of the world, their hearts were melted
with love and gratitude: by the grace of God they be-
came Christians.
George Schmidt lived among the Hottentots seven
years, with no one to encourage or assist him in his
loving and self-denying work. At the end of that time
he was obliged to go back to Europe, not intending to
remain there, however. But the Dutch colonists had
taken great offence at his having been successful in
teaching the natives. They saw that he was making
men of them, as well as Christians; and they did not
wish them to be men; it suited their purposes better
that they should remain as ignorant as beasts. So they
sent word to Holland that Schmidt had done great
mischief in the colony by his teaching and preaching;
and when he was about to return to Africa he was not
allowed to proceed on his journey. Thus this first
Christian mission to the Hottentots was wickedly put
an end to.
It was fifty years afterwards, and when George
Schmidt had been long dead, that three travellers from
Europe landed at the Ca.e of Good Hope, and were
not long in finding their way through the colony to the
Vale of Grace. They were missionaries, like Schmidt;
and they wished to know if he was still remembered
there. They found the little village he had raised
almost deserted; there were ruins of cottages, in which
the Christian Hottentots had lived; and a part of the
walls of Schmidt's house was yet standing, with several
fruit trees, which he had planted, yet flourishing be-
side it.
Was this all ? No; they found, living near, a poor
old Hottentot woman, who wept for joy when she was


told that those strangers were friends of her good
teacher, who had lived so many years ago at the Vale
of Grace, and that they were Christians-for she too
was a Christian. And besides poor old Magdalena-
for that was her name-were many other Hottentots,
who either remembered Mr. Schmidt with affection, or
had heard of him: and very glad they were when they
found that missionaries were come. to live among them
After this, other missionaries went out to different
parts of Southern Africa from'Europe, especially from
Great Britain, after Cape Colony became a British
colony; and there are now a great number of mis-
sionary stations, not only among the Hottentots and
Bushmen of the colony, but in the countries beyond.




Is you look oil a map of Africa for Cape Colony, you
will find it quite at the lower part of that great conti-
nent,-a little corner, as it may seem, compared with
the whole of the map. Small as it appears, however,
it is nearly twice as 'large as the whole of Great
Britain. On the right hand side of this colony is the
country of the Caffres, between whom and the English,
as you may have heard, a sad war was for many years
carried on; and higher up on the map, beyond the
colony, is a large country called Namaqua-land, inha-
bited by different tribes of Hottentots. It is in general
a wretched country, for want of water; and it was to
the deserts of Namaqua-land that numbers of the poor
Hottentots were driven by the cruelties of their Dutch
masters. I will give you a short history of one of these.
AFRICANER was the chief of a Hottentot tribe; and
in former days, he and his brothers roamed on their
native hills and dales, within a hundred miles of Cape
Town; pastured their own flocks, killed their own
game, drank of their own streams, and mingled the
music of their heathen songs with the winds which
burst over the Wilsemberg and Winterhoek mountains,
once the strongholds of their clan." But the Dutch
came and took possession of Africaner's pastures, and
compelled him to remove. Some of his people were
destroyed, others deserted, and others were made
slaves by the Dutch, till at last, far from the land of
his forefathers, the Hottentot chief, and the remainder
of his tribe, were compelled to become servants to a


Boer. Here he and his diminished clan lived for a
number of years, and were faithful to their master, who
in return seemed to take a mean and cruel pleasure in
provoking and oppressing them. At length Africaner
saw that there was no relief to be gained from this con-
stant tyranny, but that his people were dwindling away
in number, while their wives and daughters were abused
and their infants murdered, and he himself--once their
proud chief--had to subsist on a coarse and scanty
pittance, which, in the days of his independence, he
would have scorned to give to the meanest of his fol-
lowers. Then he asked permission of the Boer to leave
his service, and to remove to some distant part of the
country, where they might live in peace and quiet.
But, instead of granting this request, the haughty Boer
let Africaner know that he looked upon him and all his
people as slaves ; and began to treat them more
tyrannically than before.
This was more than the poor Hottentots could
endure. They refused any longer to obey the com-
mands of their master. @Cder after order was sent
down to the huts of Africaner and his people to no
purpose-they sat still brooding over their multiplied
"It was eventide, and the farmer, exasperated to
find his commands disregarded, ordered them, the
Hottentot slaes, to appear at the door of his house.
This was to them an awful moment, and though accus-
tomed to scenes of barbarity, their hearts beat hard.
It had not yet entered their minds to do violence to the
They moved slowly up to the door of the house.
Titus, the next brother to the chief, dreading that the
farmer, in his wrath, might have recourse to desperate
measures, took his gun with him, holding it behind his


back. When they reached the front of the house, and
the chief had gone up the few steps leading to the door,
to state their complaints, the Boer rushed furiously
upon him, and with one blow precipitated him to the
bottom of the steps. At this moment, Titus drew from
behind him his gun, and fired on the tyrant, who stag-
gered backwards and fell.
"( They then entered the house, and the wife having
witnessed the death of her husband, implored for mercy.
They told her not to be alarmed, for they had nothing
against her; but demanded all the guns and ammuni-
tion that were in the house, and charged her not to
leave the house during the night, for if she did, the
other slaves, over whom Africaner had no control,
might kill her.
"The poor wife obeyed this command; but two of
her children, overcome with terror, escaped by a back
door, and were slain by two Bushmen, who had long
been looking out for an opportunity of revenging
injuries they had suffered. The mother afterwards
escaped to the nearest farm."
After this, you may be sure, Cape Colony was no
safe place for Africaner. Without loss of time he got
together the remnant of his people, and escaped to
Namaqua-land, beyond the danger of pursuit, where
he soon became known and feared as a terrible robber.
Ai this occurred long after missionaries had begun
to teach the gospel to Hottentots and Bushmen in dif-
ferent parts of the colony; but it does not appear that
Africaner had ever received such instruction, or indeed
heard of that mild and merciful revelatic of God to
man, which tells of One who loved his enemies, and
gave his life for them, and which teaches us to bless
them that curse us, to do good to them that hate us,
and pray for them that despitefully use us and perseo


cute us. And we need not wonder that Africaner had
never heard of the Bible, when we consider how far
distant the missionaries were then from each other
in that wide country. As to the Boer, who was
Africaner's master, and who came to the miserable end
I have described, it is not likely that the poor Hotten-
tot slaves learned much of Christianity from him.
Well, as I said, Africaner's name spread terror far
and wide in Namaqua-land. The colonists who lived
nearest to that country, feared to sleep in the night
lest he should fall upon them, rob them of their cattle,
and perhaps murder them; and the natives around
him looked upon him as a dangerous neighbour and
their enemy. One plot after another was laid, both by
Boers and Namaqua Hottentots, against his life. But
he was watchful and brave, and had around him his
brothers and faithful followers, so that he always ma-
naged to escape from his enemies.
He had narrow escapes, however. Once he and
his men were unexpectedly attacked by a large party
of Namaquas, under the command of a chief named
Berend, with whom Africaner was at feud; and, after a
desperate conflict, the Namaquas drove off all Africaner's
cows and oxen, leaving nothing behind, except a few
calves. The Hottentot chief was not likely to sit dowi
quietly under this injury. He and his followers re-
turned home, and having slaughtered the calves which
were left them, rested a couple of days in order to dry
the flesh in the sun. Then, for several days they
pursued their enemy, and having found out their re-
treat, which was on the opposite side of the Orange
River, without being themselves discovered, they
swam over in the dead of the night, with their clothes
and ammunition tied on their heads, and their guns on
heylr shoulder, "The little force thus preparedC neo


unlike that of Bruce at Bannockburn, seized their op-
portunity, and, when all the enemy were slumbering in
fancied security, fell hpon the encampment, and not only
regained possession of their own cattle, but marched
off victoriously with all belonging to the marauders.
This is but one of the many adventures of Africa-
ner's life at this time; and it is one in which certainly
the right was on his side. I dare say he was not
always in the right, and that his enemies had great
reason to dread him. MJany years afterwards, when
Africaner became a Christian, and was seen and heard
entreating some who were on the point of fighting, to
forgive and love, and live at peace with each other,
a Namaqua chief said-" Look, there is the man, once
the lion, at whose roar even the inhabitants of dis-
tant hamlets fled from their homes Yes, and I have,
for fear of his approach, fled with my people, our
wives and our babes, to the mountain glen, or to the
wilderness, and spent nights among beasts of prey,
rather than gaze on the eyes of this lion, or hear his




WHILE Africaner was thus getting himself a great
name, but not a good one, a little party of missionaries
went to Namaqua-land. They had great reason to
dread the robber-chief; but he did not at first molest
them, though it would have been easy for him to do so.
Instead of this, he went to see them soon after their
arrival, and behaved in a very friendly manner.
"As you are sent by the English," he said, to the
wife of one of the missionaries, "I welcome you to the
country; for though I hate the Dutch, my former op.
pressors, I love the English; for I have always heard
that they are the friends of the poor black man."
And afterwards, though the missionaries were a
long distance from Africaner's kraal or village, he and
his people used sometimes to go and listen to their
But this kindly feeling did not, at this time, last
long. Some one told the Hottentot chief that the mis.
sionaries were plotting against him with some of his
enemies. This was a false report; but Africaner be-
lieved it, and he was filled with rage, and declared that
he would put an end to their preaching andteaching
in Namaqua-land, and would take vengeance on the
people who harboured them.
You may be sure that this was a very distressing
threat to the missionaries and their wives, who had
seen enough of Africaner to know that he was capable
of almost any enormity when his passions were
roused. They had no place of refuge, and were more


than two hundred miles from the abodes of civilized
men. For a whole month they waited in terror, ex-
pecting the threatened attack; and could devise no
better plan for security than to dig deep holes in the
ground, in which they might take shelter from the
shots of the robbers. Then, they thought it better to
remove and return to the colony.
It was well that they did this; for soon afterwards
the robber-chief and his men came to the station,

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~- --- '~~-
-i .- ---- F--- ---.--- ""

_- .'s> --C-r--z y Td -_--,-- .' Ir
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having spread devastation around him on all the road.
And when it was found that the missionaries were
gone, his band-beg-an to search the premises for any-
thing of value that might be hidden. Presently ono of
the men, who had wandered into the burying-ground,
stepped over what seemed to be a newly-made grave,
and much to his surprise and terror, heard soft notes
of music, which seemed to rise from the ground be-
eath his feet. Hie stood motionless, gazing over his


shoulder, with mouth and eyes wide open, hesitating
whether to stand still and see the dead arise-which
he had heard the missionaries preach about-or take
to his heels. Presently, the poor heathen, seeing no
signs of anything wonderful, and hearing no more of
the sounds, plucked up courage to leap again on the
Eame spot, and again he heard the awful music. This
"was enough: without again looking back, he darted
off to the camp, and told his chief that there was life
and music in one of the graves.
The chief, fearless of the living or the dead, was
not to be scared, even by the supposed spectre of the
tomb. He arose, and ordered his men to follow him
to the spot. One jumped, and another jumped, and
at each succeeding leap succeeding notes of the softest
music vibrated on the ear from beneath.
Dig," said the chief; and they dug, till very
soon the mysterious cause of the sounds came to light.
It was a pianoforte, which the wife of one of the mis-
sionaries had brought with her from London, and
which, being too large and heavy to be taken away
in the rapid flight, had been hastily buried in the dry
soil. It was very soon broken to pieces as you may
After having well searched the mission premises,
the robbers burned them to the ground, and then
As to the missionaries who were thus driven from
their wilderness home, they had to pass through many
sufferings in their flight; and the lady to whom the
pianoforte had belonged did not live to return. But
you will be glad to know that the mission to Namaqua-
land was not given up. And you will not, I am sure,
be sorry to hear, though it may surprise you, that
the bold robber-chief, whose very name, for years


and years, had been such a terror to the country
for hundreds of miles around, not only made peace
with the missionaries, but invited them to settl(
in his own village; and, better still, repented of his
former life of violence-showing by his conduct that
his heart was indeed changed, that his repentance
was sincere, and that ho was indeed and in truth
what he professed to be-a believer in the Lord Jesua
I shall have to tell of this presently, and you will
see how true it is that-
"When once the love of Christ is known,
It breaks and melts the heart of stone
There tenderness and mercy dwell,
And peace, and joy-and all is well"




IN the year 1817, a waggon, drawn by a dozen oxen or
more, might be seen day after day slowly dragging
along the rough roads of Cape Colony-now climbing a
steep and rugged mountain, now rolling along in a fer-
tile valley, and now fording a shallow river-the oxen
wading and swimming, until reaching the opposite
bank, they make a desperate plunge and scramble to
tread again on dry ground.
This waggon is attended by I know not how many
Hottentots, who in their strange language are urging
on the oxen to make haste. But the oxen are some of
them lazy, and some of them obstinate, and all of them
very tired, so they get along rather slowly.
The waggon is not at all like an English waggon;-
such an awkward, heavy, clumsy thing has not been
seen in England for many a long day; and the harness
that fastens it to the oxen. and that keeps the oxen
together, is awkward and clumsy too. But travellers
must not mind trifles; and perhaps this Cape Colony
waggon is a better conveyance than we may at first
imagine, for such a country of rough roads and no
roads at all.
It does not do, however, to be in a great hurry.
Our travellers have some hundreds of miles to go; and
the oxen do not travel many miles a-day: sometimes
the road is so bad, or the mountain side so steep and
dangerous, that it takes an hour or two to get over a
few yards of ground: and when any difficulty ari0s,


some of the beasts lie down and won't go a step farther
without more help.
Well, help is at hand. There are some spare oxen
in attendance, with Hottentots riding on their back s
Off jump the Hottentots, and fasten their loose oxen
to the foremost pair of the team, cracking their long

.- ...
-...- -.- ---.


whips, and shouting with their harsh voices, till tho
perverse beasts rise up lazily, and pull away again, but
with no good will to their hard labour, I think. Some-
times twenty or even thirty oxen are needed to drag the
heavy waggon up a mountain side.
heavy waggon up a mountain side.


As there is a lady in the waggon, besides other
travellers, we will not be so rude as to draw aside its
thick canvas tilt or covering, but will merely guess
that it is pretty well filled with almost all sorts of
stores for housekeeping, as well as with baggage, and
ironmongery, and tools of different sorts, with two
or three guns, perhaps more, and a quantity of gun-
powder, shot and bullets. The travellers are going
far away into the deserts beyond the colony; and if
they have forgotten anything in the housekeeping
way, they must learn to do without it, for they will
have no shops to go to. They need tools, for they
must be their own mechanics;-and guns, for they
are going where wild beasts are plentiful, and game
is not scarce. Perhaps they will have by-and-by to
depend upon their skill as marksmen, for a dinner of
Not at present, however, for following the waggon
is a little flock of sheep, stopping every now and then
to nibble the grass that falls in their way. Behind
them is a person trying to keep them from straying.
He is a white man and young. He has a gun on his
shoulder, and a broad-brimmed straw hat on his head,
to keep off the hot sun. He looks tired, and well he
may be, for he is not much used to driving sheep, and
just now the loud howl of a hyena was heard, which
set the sheep scampering off as fast as they could run,
some one way and some another; and the white man
had to scamper after them, among the thorny bushes
which scratched his face and tore his legs; and it was
a long time before he could get the flock together
That white man is a missionary, who a few months
ago said good-bye to his home and friends in Scotland;
and, after spending some time at Cape Town in learn-


ing the Dutch language, is going with another mis.
sionary, and that missionary's wife, to a station in
Little Namaqua-land, which is between Cape Colony
and the Orange River. After that, he will have to go
alone, beyond the river, into Great Namaqua-land.
Now and then, as they pass through the colony,
the travellers stop at farm-]ouses, where they are very
kindly treated. But when the farmers ask Mr. Moffat
where he is going, and he tells them, they tell him
he must be mad to think of such a thing.
You are going to Africaner's country," they say;
"c that evil-minded robber. You will never come back
"I hope I shall, if God pleases," thinks Mr.
Moffat: "but perhaps I shall not come back at all. I
am going to live among the people of Great Namaqua-
land. I am even going to the village of Africaner
"Did anybody ever hear such madness ?" thinks
the farmer, who has heard enough about Africaner to
hate to hear his name mentioned. "Why," he says,
"C when you get there, Africaner will set you up as a
mark for his boys to shoot at."
He will strip off your skin," says another, and
make a drum of it to dance to."
"He will cut off your head," says a third, "and
make a drinking-cup of your skull."
Ah exclaims a kind, motherly lady, the wife of
another farmer, at whose house the tired travellers are
resting for a little while, "if you were an old man, it
would not matter, for then you must soon die, whether
or no: but you are young; and to think of your going
to be a prey to that-that monster, Africaner !" and
she wiped the tears from her eyes as she spoke.


"But you do Africaner great wrong," says the
young missionary. "He has been very wicked and
violent, it is true; but he is converted, and is now a
Christian, and will not harm any one."
But no, no! they will not hear this; they don't
believe anything about Africaner having become a
Christian. No, no; the thing is impossible-it can-
not be !
If Mr. Moffat does not say it-and perhaps he
does-at least he remembers that there is a text in
the Bible that tells us, "With God all things are
possible." So he is not much discouraged by what he
hears; and on and on the travellers go, till the colony
is left behind, and they get into the deserts of Little
Dangerous travelling now, and very fatiguing.
Every day the sun scorches them, and the poor oxen
pant, and hang out their tongues as they drag along
the heavy waggon. Sometimes they have to travel
miles over sands and stones, so hot that they can
scarcely bear it; and the oxen low and sheep bleat with
pain and weariness. Water becomes scarce, too, and
weary as they all are, they must keep moving till they
reach the next stream or pool, or they will all perish
with thirst. And when they reach it, it is dirtier than
English puddle water. Never mind, it is very refresh-
ing and acceptable for all that.
Every night, when they stop, they must kindle a
great fire to keep off the lions and hyenas, which they
can hear roaring and growling and howling, not far
off. I think they smell the sheep and oxen, and skulk
about the travellers, hoping to get a good meal; and
woe to the poor animal that strays in the night from
the protecting fire There will be nothing but bones
left of it in the morning.




I MUST take you now to a Iottentot village or kraal,
as it is called. It is not much like an English village.
There is no particular high road, leading in at one end
and out at the other: there are no neat cottages with
garden plots around them-no village church, and
parsonage-house, and squire's mansion-no cultivated
fields around. Nothing of the sort.
Fancy yourself on a wide wild moor, scattered over
with great rough rocks, bare and weather-beaten, with
patches of coarse, scanty herbage growing where there
is soil enough for it to take root, and here and there
clumps of trees, which throw a pleasant shadow be-
neath: fancy, again, a gipsy encampment on this wild
moor, with women and children in abundance, black,
and grimy, with filthy tattered sheep-skins hanging
about them for clothing; some wandering about,
shrieking, scolding, quarrelling; others lazily rolling
on the ground; others cooking at fires, outside the
huts; dogs prowling about also, half-starved and
ugly; then cast your eyes round and see, in the dis-
tance, herds of oxen and a few sheep and goats pick-
ing up a poor meal off the scanty grass, under the
care of black, woolly-headed, half-naked savages,
while others, having nothing to do, are stretched at
full length, or idly lounging about the camp. Fancy
all this, and you may, if you please, suppose yourself
to be in a Hottentot kraal.


The huts are not very complicated in their archi-
tecture. Draw a circle on the ground; stick long
poles into the ground, just outside this circle; pull
them together at the top, and fasten them with strips
of cow-skin; then cover over this frame with anything
you may happen to have-sheep-skins, bullocks'-hides,
or mats made of long grass-and you have a Hottentot
hut complete.
You must not expect your hut to keep out all the
rain that falls upon it; nor yet to stand very firm
against a hurricane: but it keeps off the sun, and, if
blown down, it is soon put up again; and what rain
soaks through you must bear patiently, or fasten an
extra mat over the leaky part of the roof. There is
this advantage, at any rate, in your hut-when you
are tired of one spot, you can easily move it to
Let us stroll outside the village, beyond the huts,
and under the shade of yonder clump of trees. Why,
but what do we see ? A waggon that surely'was never
made by the builders of yonder huts. It is broken
and crippled, but it looks wonderfully like the waggon
we saw months ago, toiling over the mountains and
and through the valleys of Cape Colony, I know not
how many scores of miles away.
Truly, there is no mistake about it. It is the same
waggon-Mr. Moffat's travelling carriage. It has had
some rough work since we saw it last; and so has its
owner: but they, both of them-the missionary and
his waggon-reached their destination at last. This
is Africaner's village.
Ah! poor Mr. Moffat and was he set up as a
mark for the boys to shoot at ?-they look as if they
would not scruple to shoot at a missionary if they
bad tbh chance, Or did Africaner mnke a dram


of the missionary's skin? or a drinking-cup of his
skull ?
Well, no; he did hone of these things; but as soon
as the young missionary arrived he had a hut built for
him; and though fifty years old, and a great chief
among his people, he came daily to that hut to receive
instruction like a little child.




IT is very lonely for Mr. Moffat in the Hottentot vil-
lage. He is the only white man there. He has left
behind him almost all the comforts of civilized life.
He cannot even get bread to eat; for the people do
not grow any kind of grain; and he is obliged live as
he can on any game he can kill with his gun, with
sometimes a bit of mutton or goat flesh, or beef, but
this not often; and then he must eat his meat without
bread, or vegetables of any kind, or salt. Once, a
friendly missionary in Little Namaqua-land, sent him
a bag of salt; but when it was opened, it was so mixed
with sand that he couicr not reisn it; so he quietly
hung the bag up in his hut, and there it remains
He has milk to drink, however, for Africaner has
given him two cows. They do not yield much, it is
true, but they often save him from a hungry night.
So the young missionary lives on meat and milk, some-
times for weeks together on milk alone, which, by way
of change, he drinks at one time sweet and fresh, at
another time sour, and at another curdled.
But sometimes his milk fails, and he has no meat
either: what shall he do then ? He cannot buy, for
there are none to sell, and if there were, alas he has
no money. He does not like to ask for food of the
poor Hottentots, who are as hardly driven as himself,
though, without asking, he now and then discovers
that some unknown friend has slipped a piece of meat
into his hut when he has been absent-so he throws


his gun on his shoulder, and rambles out on the plain,
or on to the mountains beyond, in search of something
to eat. He cannot always find it; 'and then he returns
to his hut half-starved, to go to rest, in hopes that
there will be something in store for to-morrow.
He has no prospect of faring better than this in
time to come; for though he may have as much land
to cultivate as he pleases, the ground is so dry and
barren, and there is rain so seldom, and water is so
scarce, that digging and sowing would be of no use-
there would 'be no reaping.
As there is no society of his own countrymen for
the young missionary, and no one of whom to ask
advice, or to speak to about his difficulties and trials
among the poor ignorant Hottentots, he sometimes
feels his heart sinking within him, and he thinks of
the happy home and kind friends he has left behind, in
his native land, till he almost wishes himself back
again. But then he remembers why he left his home
-that it was not to get money, nor to obtain a fine
farm, but to show the way to Heaven to the dark-
minded heathen; and he remembers, too, that if he
is a faithful servant of God, God will be with him
to help him and comfort him; and this cheers his
mind, and he can go, when evening is drawing on,
and can sing praises with a joyful heart to his God and
Saviour all by himself, among the rocks outside the
After all, there is something-and not a little-to
encourage Mr. Moffat at Africaner's kraal, which is
become a favourable specimen of Hottentot villages.
Before he went there, another teacher had been among
them, who had prepared the way for our young mis-
sionary by giving religious instruction. Indeed, there
is now a little congregation of Christians there; and


among them are to be reckoned Africaner himself,
the redoubtable robber-but a robber no longer-but
Christian Africaner, as he is now willing to be called;
and his brothers, David and Jacobus. Titus Africaner
too, who you remember shot the Boer, their former
master, and who has been, in his time, a fiercer tiger
in human form than his brother, and who had hated
the former missionary, and set a terrible example of
wickedness to all Africaner's people-even he is be-
come the steady friend of Mr. Moffat, and is like a
different being.
Mr. Moffat has plenty of employment at Africaner's
village. He has a service at his hut every morning
and evening, to which he invites as many of the
natives as like to come, when he reads and explains
to them some part of the Scriptures, and joins with
them in prayer. Then three or four hours every day
are spent in teaching the Hottentot children to read;
and in this he is greatly assisted by the two brothers
of the chief, David and Jacobus.
Christian Africaner, himself, is not very ready at
reading, but he improves every day; and the New
Testament is his constant companion. He may be
often seen, for hours together, sitting under the
shadow of a rock, reading those words of life which,
you know, are able to make us wise unto salvation
through faith which is in Christ Jesus, and which,
while they bring salvation, teach us also, that denying
ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly,
righteously, and godly in the present world.
Sometimes, when all his people are gone to rest,
Africaner sits with the young missionary on a great
stone at the door of his hub, and talks till the dawn of
next day about the wonders of creation and redemp-
tion. A new world is opened to his mind, and he


cannot be satisfied. He is like a bee gathering honey
from every flower. Then, after asking a great number
of questions, he exclaims, rubbing his head-" I have
heard enough for this time. I feel as if my head were
too small, and as if it would swell with these great
No more thieving and fighting excursions for Afri-
caner and his men, you may be sure.
What have I now of all the battles I have fought,
or the cattle I took," he asks, "but shame and re-
morse ? And when he hears of those around, who
are at variance with each other, he goes and begs them
to be reconciled.
Our Hottentot village, as well as becoming more
peaceful, is getting cleaner and neater. One day, for
instance, Mr. Moffat thinks it would be a good thing
if the children--and there are a good number of them,
about a hundred and twenty-who come to the school,
were to undergo a little purification at the fountain
which supplies the cattle with water. Does not Afri-
caner think so too ?
Yes, Africaner has not much doubt about it, for
since he has become a Christian, he has not been so
contented to live in the midst of filth as he used to be.
So he persuades the people to suffer their children to
be washed; and then, having washed their bodies
clean, our two reformers get them to wash their dirty
sheepskin garments. They don't like it much at first;
for they have been so used to dirt, that washing is
like stripping off a skin; but they begin to feel more
comfortable, and before long, you would have to travel
long and far before you would meet with such bright-
looking Hottentots as are to be found at Africaner's



I HAVE told you that a great part of Namaqua-land is
desert country; and Mr. Mloffat had not been many
months at Africaner's kraal before great distress came
upon the people through want of water. No rain had
fallen for weeks, and all around scarcely a blade of green
grass could be seen, so that most of the cattle had to
be driven to distant pastures to feed.
On one of the hot cloudless days of that summer,
there was an unusual bustle in the village. All the
people who remained in the place were flocking towards
the missionary's broken waggon, and gathering round
the missionary himself, who, for the first time in his
life, had turned blacksmith.
The job he had undertaken, which was none other
than the repair of his broken waggon, was a difficult
one, especially as his tools were not very suitable for
his work. For an anvil he had a block of stone; his
blacksmith's bellows he had manufactured himself, and
his hammer and tongs were never made for welding
iron. Nevertheless, he persevered in his work, and
the poor Hottentots thought it wonderful; though all
the while the inexperienced workman was wishing
them at a greater distance, lest he should burn his
fingers and they should laugh at his misfortunes.
Success, however, crowned his efforts at last, and
amidst the shouts of the assembled villagers, the
crippled waggon was restored to soundness, and pro-
nounced fit to start afresh upon its travels; while the


poor Hottentots were more than ever persuaded that
their white friend must be a very clever man.
A day or two later and the village was again in con-
fusion. Oxen were harnessed to the waggon; and the
missionary, attended by the Hottentot chief, and thirty
picked men, active and willing, were making the last
preparations for a long journey of many weeks to the
farther borders of Namaqua-land. At length these
preparations were completed, and amidst the confused
noise of shouting Hottentots, lowing oxen, and barking
dogs, the waggon and its attendants moved on, and
soon Africaner's kraal was left in the distance, almost
deserted, except by women and children.
There had been a time, no doubt, when a band of
thirty of Africaner's men, led on by that terrible free-
booter himself, would have struck dismay into every
Hottentot kraal near which it passed. The villagers
would have expected nothing less than to have their
huts burned over their heads, their poor wives and
children murdered, and their cattle driven off. But
Africaner's expedition was, now, a very peaceable one.
He had no idea of molesting any one; and if he had
a large party with him, it was only as a precaution
against the many dangers of the long journey he had
And that journey was not without an object. The
chief had found that the barren wilderness in which he
had, many years before, fixed his village, was better
calculated for the residence of lawless robbers, such as
he and his people had once been, than for the home of
quiet, God-fearing Christians. It was his wish to live
thenceforward honestly and industriously; and hav-
ing heard that, on the farther borders of Namaqua-
land there was a country, well-watered with many
fountains, and more fertile, which he would, be at


liberty to occupy, he had proposed to the missionary
to visit it. And he was accompanied by Mr. Moffat,
to be assisted with his judgment, as well as that the
gospel might be preached to the poor heathen natives
whom they might meet with on their way.
For many days, after leaving Africaner's kraal, the
travellers passed over a dry and barren country. The
plains were sand-the hills were sand-almost all
around them was sand. It was difficult to find food
for the oxen as they went on; and when their small
stock of water was gone, they had to travel for hours
before they reached a fountain where they could quench
their thirst.
Bounding along the desert around them, the mis-
sionary and his friends saw troops of zebras and wild
asses; herds of stately giraffes, sometimes as many as
thirty or forty together; great numbers of elks and
antelopes; and now and then a solitary rhinoceros.
All these were welcome sights; for the travellers had
to depend for subsistence upon the game they might
meet with in the course of the journey. Mr. Moffat
was a good marksman, and so was Africaner, and so
were many of the men; though none of them could
equal Titus, who was one of the party, and who had
been known to take his gun in the dead of the night,
enter an immense deep pool in the Orange River, swim
to the centre, take his seat on a rock jusi above the
surface of the water, and wait the approach of a hippo-
potamus, which he would shoot just as it opened its
monstrous jaws to seize him.
So, having plenty of powder and musket-balls, and
a good number of guns, the travellers managed to
obtain a tolerable supply of food in the desolate regions
through which they were slowly passing. Nothing
name much amiss to them, for their appetites were too


keen to allow them t6 be very dainty; and Mr. Moffat
found that even zebra's flesh was not to be despised,
though a young fat giraffe was to be preferred. When
they killed a large animal, they generally halted a day
or two, at some convenient spot, to cut the meat into
thin pieces and dry it in the sun. It was then stowed
away in the waggon for future occasions, and, when
eaten, had to be put under hot ashes, and then pounded
between two stones to loosen its fibres.
Sometimes even this hard fare failed, and, being
unsuccessful in procuring fresh food, the travellers had
to fasten leather thongs tightly round their stomachs
to prevent the gnawing of hunger.
One day the whole party narrowly escaped being
poisoned. They saw before them a beautiful valley,
as it appeared, clothed in lively green; and hoping to
obtain food for their oxen, they hastened to it. But
when they reached the spot, they found that what
looked so lovely and inviting, was nothing but a bitter
plant which the cattle would not eat, and which only
impeded their progress. They were faint themselves
with hunger, and the oxen were worn oui with fatigue,
when some of the party found honey in the clefts of
the rocks. This was a welcome treat, and they all ate
heartily. Presently, however, one complained of a
burning heat in his throat, and then another, and
another; then a native came up, and said, You had
better not eat the honey of this vale. Do you not see
the poison-bushes from which the bees get honey and
poison too ? "
You may be sure the travellers did not feel very
comfortable after that. Every one had recourse to the
little water that remained in the vessels, for the inward
heat was terrible; but the water instead of allaying
only increased the pain. It was well that no more


serious consequences followed; but it was several
days before they got rid of the effect of the poisoned
Sometimes they came to a Namaqua village; and
then the missionary got the inhabitants together and
told them of the glad tidings of the gospel. And it is
pleasant to think of Africaner, the dreaded robber, as
he had been, standing beside Mr. Moffat and inter-
preting to his poor Hottentot brethren the message of
peace and good-will to men which he delivered.
At one of the villages Mr. Moffat met with a
Hottentot conjuror or sorcerer, who pretended that he
had entered into a lion which, the night before, had
alarmed the village and killed the cattle. But when
the missionary invited him to try his power again,
he declined, saying that the missionary himself must
be a white conjuror, from the strange doctrines he
At this village the journey outward came to a close,
for the wild Namaquas, as they were called, were
jealous of the visit, and were preparing to oppose the
travellers. It would have been easy for Africaner and
his men to have forced their way; but the chief him-
self proposed to return rather than shed blood.
So the waggon was turned southwards, and the
travellers began to retrace their weary steps to Afri-
caner's kraal.
On their journey they were often exposed to danger
from lions. One evening, on their way homewards,
when they were quietly resting for the night beside
a pool of water, and were just closing their evening
worship, a terrible roar was heard close by, and, in
the next instant the weary oxen who had been peace-
fully chewing the cud, rushed madly over the fire,
round which the travellers were seated, and scattered,


in wild confusion, fire and men, huts, hymn-books,
guns, and Bibles-disappearing, as rapidly as they had
come, in a cloud of dust and sand.
A shout was raised--" A lion !-a lion and Afri-
caner, jumping up, grasped a firebrand, and followed
by his men, rushed down a dark and gloomy ravine
after the terrified oxen. Probably the lion was scared
with the shouting and the fire, for no more was heard
of him through the night, and the oxen were recovered.
This was a better ending to the alarm than might have
been expected; for often, in spite of shouting and fire-
brands, a hungry lion will break in upon a night
encampment, and bound off with its prey; and some-
times will prefer a man to an ox.
I must tell you of only one other adventure which
befell our travellers on this journey, to show you what
heathenism is, and how much need there is for Chris-
tian missionaries in heathen lands.
Mr. Moffat and his companions had travelled all
day over a sandy plain, and passed a sleepless night
from extreme thirst and fatigue. Rising early the
next morning, and leaving the people to get the
waggon ready to follow, the missionary and one of the
men went forward in search of game.
After passing a ridge of hills, and advancing into
the plain beyond, they saw a little smoke rising from
a few bushes; and animated by the sight, they started
forward, hoping to meet with some one who could
direct them to a fountain. When they had arrived
within a few hundred yards of the spot, they were
startled at the fresh marks of lions. They had no
guns, and hesitated a moment whether to proceed;
but thirst urged them on, so they advanced cautiously,
keeping a good look out at every bush they passed.
On reaching the spot, the mystery of the smoke


was disclosed. Seated by a smouldering fire was an
aged woman-a living skeleton, so weak and helpless,
that when, terrified by the appearance of a white man,
she tried to rise, she sunk back again to the earth.
Fear not, mother," said the missionary, "we are
friends, and will do you no harm. How came you
hero ? and who are you ?"
"I am a woman," she replied; "I have been hero
four days; my children have left me here to die."
"Your children ? '"
",Yes," said the poor Hottentot woman, raising
her hand to her shrivelled bosom; "my own children

--three sons and two daughters. They are gone to
yonder blue mountains, and have left me here to die."
And pray why did they leave you ?" asked Mr.
Moffat, kindly.
The old woman spread out her hands :-" I am
old, you see, and am no longer able to serve them.
When they kill game, I am too feeble to help in carry.
ing home the flesh. I am not able to gather wood to
make fire. I cannot carry their children on my back
aa I used to do."


The missionary was much affected. At length he
said, he wondered she had escaped the lions, which
seem to have been near.
I hear the lions," she answered; "but there is
nothing on me that they would eat. See here;"
and she raised the skin of her arm, which hung loose
upon it. There was indeed no flesh-nothing but
bone and skin.
At that moment the waggon drew near. This
greatly alarmed her; she seemed to think it an animal.
Assuring her that it would do her no harm, Mr. Moffat
offered to put her into it, and take her with him. But
the thought of this struck more terror into her than
the expectation of death.
"If you take me with you to another village," she
said, "they will do the same thing again. It is our
custom. I am nearly dead; I do not want to die
It was useless to reason with her, and to have
attempted to move her by force would have hastened
her death. The poor oxen were raging with thirst,
and the travellers were nearly delirious. To have
remained would have been fatal to them; but before
they left the poor outcast, they collected a quantity
of fuel, gave her a good supply of dry meat, some
tobacco, and a knife, and telling her to keep up her
courage and a good fire, lest the lions after all should
come upon her and destroy her-they promised to
return as speedily as possible.
In a day or two they performed the promise, but
found the old woman and everything gone; and, on
further examination, the fresh footmarks of men were
discovered near. Several months afterwards the mis-
sionary was told that the sons, seeing from a distance
the waggon halt at the spot where they had left their


mother to perish, returned, expecting to find only her
mangled remains. But finding her still alive, and
supplied with food, and on hearing her tell of the
strangers' kindness, they were alarmed, and dreading
the vengeance of the great chief, as they supposed the
white man to be, they took her home, and afterwards
provided for her with more than usual care.

I have not time to tell how, after this, the travellers
were again nearly perishing with thirst; but how they
reached .Africaner's kraal safely at last, and found that
the business of the mission had been going on pros-
perously while they were away. I should like to tell
also, but must not, for want of space, how Mr. Moffat,
some time afterwards, took a long scamper-on horse-
back this time-across the deserts of Namaqua-land
in another direction, to look for another station for his
friend Africaner and himself: and of the adventures he
met with:-how he was made very ill, and nearly lost
his life, by drinking water from a fountain which the
natives had poisoned-how he and his attendants lost
their way more than once; and how they suffered from
cold, hunger, and thirst-the narrow escapes they had
from lions and hyenas; and once from a hippopotamus
-and how the white man was, on one occasion, when
wandering from the rest of his party, threatened by a
troop of ugly, grinning, impudent baboons-how, also,
he met with unexpected kindness from the poor Bush-
men of the desert, for whom few people have willingly
a good word to give-and how at length they once
more returned to Africaner's village.
I should like to tell you too, if I had room, which
I have not, how Mr. Moffat went from village to village,


all around Africaners kraal, and preached to the poor
Namaqua Hottentots; and how his heart was cheered
with believing that God was blessing his labours, so
that he thought little of the hardships he had to
endure, but thanked God again and again for having
put it into his heart to become a missionary.
Especially in Africaner's kraal, and among his
tribe, was there such a difference to be seen, that you
would not have believed them to be the same place and

ABOUT two years after the journey into Namaqua-
land, of which I have told you in a former chapter,
a waggon, drawn as usual by a number of oxen, was
seen slowly winding through a pleasant valley in Cape
Colony; and by the direction it was taking, it was
plain that the travellers, whoever they might be, were
proceeding towards Cape Town.
On a hill at a short distance was a pleasant farm-
house; and the sight of the waggon had drawn the
farmer and his wife and children to the door. We may
suppose therefore that many travellers were not in the
habit of passing that way.
Presently the waggon stopped, and the farmer's
attention was drawn to a nearer spot in the same direc-
tion, by the approach of a sun-burnt stranger in the
dress of a European, but who had not much the ap.
pearance of a colonist.
Who can he be ?" thought the farmer, who was
a good, kind-hearted, and hospitable man-a descen-
dant of one of the old Dutch colonists-" but whoever

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