The Trembling Hazel

When the Austrians were expelled from our country at the end of the eighteenth century, they were also pursued by residents from our regions. Peasants armed with forks and sticks drove out their occupiers. In the Oostmoer district, people celebrated the liberation with beer and singing. Towards evening the pursuers returned home victorious. Because of the victories, tempers were heated. Among the returnees were nobles and warriors on horseback. Because of language and clothing, one of them seemed very suspicious to the people of Oostmoer. If only an Austrian were to fall under their hands... ! «An enemy!» was shouted. And without anyone being able to tell how it had happened, the strange warrior was knocked off his horse. Pale as death, he lay there in the sand. But the people of Oostmoer had not meant it so seriously. Was it an Austrian? No one knew him. The people dropped off. They bolted doors and blinded shut. When, some time later, the father of the downcast horseman came to inquire, «Have you not seen my son?» the inhabitants shrugged their shoulders; They hadn't seen or heard from anyone.

When it was dark, a corpse was carried into the woods. At the end of 't Meistraatje they buried it in a deep pit. They planted a tree in the churned up earth to erase the traces. The Count of Cleves never found his son. That's why the leaves of the tree still tremble.

est2000