Suddenly they heard a low voice saying: “Take heart.”
“Hark,” they said, “the husband deigns to speak to his brides.”
And presently the room was filled with a perfume more delicate than that of a censer burning finest frankincense.
Then the voice spake further: “To-morrow,” it said, “when dawn breaks, go out from the town. Mount your palfreys, and, riding without halt, follow the road without heeding whither it leads. I will guide you.”
“We will obey you,” they said, “for you have made us the happiest of the daughters of men.”
And rising from their knees, they kissed one another joyfully.
While the voice was speaking to them, there had come into the square a beautiful horseman in silvern armour, with a golden helm on his head, and, flying above that like a bird, a crest more brilliant than a flame. The horse whereon he rode was of pure white.
None of those there had seen him coming, and he was as if risen from the ground among the crowd of lovers, who, seized with fear, dared not look him in the face.
“Rascals,” quoth he, “take these horses away out of the square. Do you not know that the noise of their hooves troubles these three ladies in their prayers?”
And therewith he rode away towards the east.
“Ah,” said the lovers to one another, “saw you that silvern armour and that flaming crest? ’Twas an angel of God assuredly, come from Paradise for the sake of these three ladies.” The more insistent among them muttered: “He did not forbid us to stand on foot before the door, and in that wise we may yet remain with impunity.”
On the morrow, therefore, before daylight, the suitors returned once again in great numbers, but first left their horses behind them in their stables. Soon after daybreak they saw the three ladies ride out from their courtyard, in obedience to the command which God had given them, each one mounted upon her palfrey. Supposing that they were but going out into the neighbouring meadows to take the clean air, they followed behind, one and all, singing merry carols in their honour.
For so long as they were in the streets of the town the palfreys moved slowly, but once out in the open country they began galloping.
The lovers tried still to follow them, but at last were forced to drop off, and fell one by one along the wayside.
When they had covered some miles the palfreys stood still; and the three ladies, seeing that they had come free of their pursuers, resolved to give honour to God for his aid, and to this end to build him a fair church.
Where? They did not know. But the thing was already decided in Paradise, as you shall see.
For as soon as they were once again on their horses, the animals, guided by God’s holy spirit, set off at a high trot.
And leapt rivers, threaded forests, passed through towns, whereof the gates opened of themselves to let them by, and closed again after, bounded over walls and like obstacles.
And startled every one they met, all amazed to see go by, quick as the wind, these three white horses and these three fair ladies.
And travelled in this way for a thousand leagues, or rather more.
At Haeckendover, in the duchy of Brabant, the palfreys stood still once again, and neighed.
And would not go one step forward, nor back.
For this was where God had chosen to have his church.
But the ladies, supposing that they had stopped there because they were tired, went on as far as Hoy-Bout on foot, and there determined to start building.
Therefore they sent for the most skilful workers in stone, and master-builders also, in so great number that at the end of one day the foundations were two hands’ breadth high in the lowest part.
And seeing this good beginning the ladies rejoiced greatly, and supposed their work agreeable to God.
But on the morrow, alas, found all the stones torn up out of the ground.
Thinking that by chance some traitor heretic had been buried in that place, who at night shook down the stones of their church with the trembling of his accursed bones, they removed to Steenen-Berg with their workmen, and there started afresh in the same manner as at Hoy-Bout.
But on the morrow morning found the walls once again out of the ground.
For the Lord Jesus was minded to be worshipped more particularly at Haeckendover.
And sent, therefore, his angels by night, with hammers of diamond from the workshops of Paradise.
And bade them tear down the work of the three ladies.
Therefore the sisters, greatly perplexed and wondering, went down on their knees, praying God that he would tell them where he wished to have his church.
And suddenly they saw a young man, of a beauty more than earthly, clad in a robe of the colour of the setting sun.
Kindly he looked at them.
Knowing him for God’s angel, the three ladies fell on their faces before him.
But the youngest, bolder than the others, as is the way with children, dared to steal a look at the fair ambassador, and, seeing him so comely, took heart and smiled.
The angel took her by the hand, saying to her and to her sisters: “Come and follow me.”
This they did.
And thence they came to the spot where the church now stands, and the angel said to them: “This is the place.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” said the youngest joyously.
At that time it was thirteen days past the feast of the Kings; snow had fallen heavily and set hard in frost after, by reason of a north wind which was blowing.
And the three ladies saw before them, among the snow, as it were a green island.
And this island was girt about with a cord of purple silk.
And upon the island the air was fresh as in spring, and roses were blowing, with violets and jessamine, whose smell is like balm.
But outside was naught but storm, north wind, and terrible cold.
Towards the middle, where now stands the grand altar, was a holm-oak, covered with blossom as if it had been a Persian jessamine.
In the branches, warblers, finches and nightingales sang to their hearts’ content the sweetest songs of Paradise.
For these were angels, who had put on feathered guise, carolling in this fashion in God’s honour.
One fair nightingale, the sweetest singer of them all, held in his right claw a roll of parchment, whereon was written in letters of gold:
“This is the place chosen by God and shown by him to the three maidens for the building of a church to the glory of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”
Great was the joy of the ladies at that sight, and the youngest said to the angel:
“We see certainly that God loves us somewhat; what must we do now, My Lord Angel?”
“Thou must build the church here, little one,” answered the messenger, “and choose for this work twelve of the most skilled workmen, neither more nor less; God himself will be the thirteenth.”
And having said so much he returned to high heaven.
Then all three went off in haste to choose from among the others the twelve good workmen who should set up the foundations of the church where they had seen the cord of purple silk.
The work went on so well that it was a pleasure to see the stones mounting up, straight and quickly.
But the miracle was this, that during the hours of labour the masons were always thirteen in number, but at dinner and at paytime twelve only.
For the Lord Jesus was pleased to work with the others, but neither ate nor drank with them; he who in Paradise had such fine broth and such sweet fruits, and wine from the fountain of Saphir, which is a fountain giving forth without intermission wine of a richer yellow than liquid gold itself.
Nor did he suffer for want of money; for that is an evil reserved to us needy, piteous, and ill-faring mortals.
The building advanced so well that soon the bell was hung in the tower as a sign that the church was finished.
Then the three maids entered in together; and, falling on her knees, the youngest said:
“By whom, divine husband and beloved Jesus, shall we dedicate this church built for your service?”
To which the Lord Jesus replied: “It is I Myself who will consecrate and dedicate this church; let none come after me to consecrate it anew.”
By and by two venerable bishops passed through Haeckendover, and seeing the new church were minded to give it their blessing.
They knew nothing of the words of Jesus to the three ladies, or they would not have thought of such temerity.
But they were punished terribly none the less.
For as one of them was about to bless the water for this purpose he became suddenly blind.
And the other, who was holding the holy water brush, when he lifted his arms for the blessing, found them suddenly withered and stiffened, so that he could no longer move them.
And perceiving that they had sinned in some way the two bishops were filled with repentance and prayed to the Lord Jesus to pardon them.
And they were straightway pardoned, seeing that they had sinned in ignorance.
And thereafter they came oftentimes most devoutly to Haeckendover.
Sir Halewyn lifted up his voice in a song.
And whatever maid heard that song must needs go to him straight away.
And now to all good Flemings will I tell the tale of this Halewyn and his song, and of the brave maid Magtelt.
There were two proud castles in the province of Flanders. In one dwelt Sir Roel de Heurne, with the lady Gonde, his good wife; Toon the Silent, his son; Magtelt, his fair daughter, and a host of pages, grooms, varlets, men-at-arms, and all the other members of the household, among whom an especial favourite was Anne-Mie, a girl of gentle blood, maid to the lady Magtelt.
Of everything that was made by his peasants, Sir Roel took naught but what was the best.
And the peasants said of him that it was a good master who took only as much as he needed, when he might have left them with nothing.
In the other castle lived Sir Halewyn the Miserable, with his father, brother, mother, and sister, and a large following of rascals and brigands.
And these were an ill-favoured crew, I can tell you, past masters of robbery, pillage, and murder, such as it is not good to meet at too close quarters.
This family were issue by direct line of Dirk, the first of the Halewyns, to whom was given the name of the Crow, because he was as greedy of booty as a crow is of carrion.
And also because he was clad all in black, and his men with him.
This Dirk, who lived in the time of the great wars, was like a thunderbolt in battle, where, with his only weapon, a heavy club, furnished with a beak at one side, he broke javelins, splintered lances, and tore away mail as if it had been cloth; and no one could well resist his onslaught. And in this manner he so frightened his enemies that when they saw Dirk and his black soldiers bearing down upon them, shouting, yelling, without fear of any one, and in great number, they gave themselves up for dead before ever battle was joined.
When victory was won and the more important booty divided (whereof Dirk always secured the lion’s share and never came off badly), the other barons and their knights would leave the rest of the field to him and his followers, and would go off, saying: “The pieces are for the crow.”
No other man-at-arms would dare to stay behind then, or he would have been quickly taken and slain without waiting. And thereafter Dirk’s men would begin to play the crow in earnest; cutting off fingers to get the rings on them, even of those not yet dead, who cried out to them for succour; chopping off heads and arms so that they might pull away clothes the more easily. And they even fought amongst themselves, and sometimes killed one another, over the bodies of the dead, for the sake of neck-pieces, straps of hide, or more paltry stuff still.
And stayed sometimes on the battlefield over this business three days and three nights.
When all the dead were stark naked they piled up their gains into carts which they brought for this purpose.
And with these they returned to Dirk’s castle, there to hold high revel and have good cheer. On the way they fought the peasants, taking whatever women and girls were at all comely, and did with them what they pleased. In this way they passed their lives fighting, pillaging, robbing the helpless, and caring nothing at all for either God or devil.
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