After receiving the more formal salutations of Attilio and Orazio, Julia did not forget to turn for a little towards her lover, who had remained during all these demonstrations somewhat eclipsed and confused.
Muzio, even when a child of the streets, had always maintained that decorum of person and propriety of manner which the remembrance of his noble birth imposed upon him; and now Julia had reason indeed to admire the change wrought in him by his life in the forest.
The position of the last scion of the house of Pompeo had truly improved of late. Scipio, the faithful and devoted servant who had voluntarily taken charge of him when a baby, and tended him with such devoted affection, was dead; but before dying, he imparted, by writing, to Cardinal S———, Muzio s maternal uncle, the history of his young master's life, and a statement of his family property. The prelate gave his solicitor orders to put himself in communication with Muzio, to supply him with all he needed, and to endeavor to bring him back into the sheepfold of respectability.
The prelate, moreover, had kindly intentions towards his nephew on his own part, and meditated adding something from his own possessions to the paternal estates which had passed so fraudulently into the hands of Paolotti's vultures, and which he saw the way to recover.
This sudden change of fortune happened to Muzio about the end of the year 1866, in which the Italians, in spite of the undesirable means used, gained re-possession of their own soil, and got rid of the foreign friends of the priesthood.
It was, therefore, not an untimely thing for
Cardinal S——— to be able to say, "I have a nephew who is a Liberal, and one of the first temper, too." It was become of consequence, even to a prelate, to be on friendly terms with such a nephew.
Julia contemplated the transformation of Muzio's appearance and apparel with natural pleasure, yet she had loved him so much as a wanderer of the city, that she almost wished him back again in the poor but graceful cloak of a Trastevere model.
Muzio made no audible reply to his lady's gentle words of recognition, but kissed her hand with a devotion that needed no speeches to mark its intensity, and which could not be better translated than by his enamored mistress's heart.
And Clelia and Irene were, of course, happy at being once more safe in the society of their chosen. Happiness was depicted upon all these youthful faces; and, in truth, it is necessary to; confess that, opposed as all good hearts are to bloodshed, the hour of victory is a glorious one, and we, like many others, have enjoyed that wild and stem delight. At that moment the mind does not much reflect that the field is covered with the wounded and the dying. Their cries and our own exhaustion are alike unheeded. We are victorious; our cause has conquered. We have routed the enemies. All meetings on the field take a joyous tone from that proud thought, and every fresh friend, as he comes up, receives a hearty squeeze of the hand, and is a centre of fresh congratulations.
Brothers have killed brothers. Yes, alas! Manzoni is right! but the heart of man forgets that sad verity so long as the flush of victory is cast upon it. Ah! when will the people become brethren indeed, and exchange the savage bliss of triumph for the noble and placid joys of peace? Ere long, let us hope! So, be sure, hoped and prayed that band, under an ancient oak upon the emerald sod of the forest, where the chiefs of the proscribed sat with those noble and tender women whose strange fate had brought them together on the field of conflict. They were so beautiful, so attractive to be in such a place! With faces kindled by pride and love, they spread around them a light of joy and a sense of praise and sanction; an atmosphere of grace mingled with gallant spirit, which almost rendered their companions eager to fight again and again under such glorious eyes.
Silvia was the first to break the thread of felicitations, and said to Julia, "But Manlio, where did you leave him?"
"Manlio," replied the English woman, "is with the Recluse on the island; I left him in excellent health, and promised to take him news of you." "And what is the General's opinion concerning affairs in Rome?" asked Attilio.
"He," replied Julia, "approves of the noble conduct of the few Romans who harass the Papal Government, and who protest by their rebellion to the world that that abomination is no longer compatible with the age; yet he applauds also the endurance with which you have waited for a general movement until now, so as not to trouble the advancement of national unity, thus depriving the foreigner of a pretext to create further obstacles. But at the same time he is of opinion that as long as the Italian Government continues to remain kneeling at the feet of the Master of France, and, to please him, renounces Rome as the capital of our fatherland—while it supports the wicked priesthood, you must be ready to decide these questions by arms, and that every man-in Italy who possesses an Italian heart ought to be prepared to support you."
"Yes," said Muzio, who had been muttering the word "endurance" ever since it was spoken by Julia—"yes, but patience is the virtue of the ass. We Romans have had too much of it; we have been, and still are superabundantly asinine. It is a disgrace to us that we still tolerate the roost iniquitous and degrading of human tyrannies, and suffer the priests to be our jailers."
"And is this island from which you come far off?" inquired the gentle Silvia, who was thinking most about the dear companion of her life. "Could we not go and pass a few days there?"
"Nothing is easier," answered Julia, to whom the question was put. "We are close to the frontier, we have only to cross it, and make our way to Leghorn, where the Seagull is lying, and sail from thence to the island, which is not far distant. But you must also know of the marriage of Captain Thompson and your friend Aurelia, which took place lately in that solitary retreat in the simple patriarchal manner, for there are no priests there."
"Per la grazia di Dio!" here exclaimed Orazio to himself, rising and stretching his athletic figure to its full height, as he cast a look to the western extremity of the wood. "What are these fresh arrivals?" whereupon they all saw advancing towards them a robust youth, accompanied by a beautiful girl, not much his junior, but upon whose melancholy face the traces of suffering and misfortune were too plainly visible.
The new-comers were quickly perceived to be Silvio and Camilla; and here it should be known that our hunter, after the decision of the Liberals to abandon the Roman suburbs, went to bid farewell to his unhappy mistress, whom he could not cease to love, before setting out for the north.
Arriving at Marcello's house, he was welcomed as usual by Fido and Marcellino, and found Camilla kneeling, as was her daily habit, beside her father's grave.
"Just God! can another's crime plunge a simple and innocent soul into misery and madness for life?" thought Silvio, as he regarded the prostrate girl, and almost unconsciously he prayed aloud, "Oh, heaven! restore her reason, and to me the star of my life!"
Camilla turned at these words with a look first of fright, then of a new and wonderful tenderness. It was plain that that compassionate and forgiving prayer had caused the inmost fibres of her heart to vibrate, and, obeying a mighty and impulsive instinct, she sank into the old sweet sanctuary of her lover's arms. With their heads hidden on each other's breasts, they dispensed with explanations—they made no new vows—mighty love was healer and interpreter. Tears fell fast from Camilla's eyes, but not sad tears now. A great sorrow and a bitter sin had dethroned her reason—a great pardon and a noble love set it back again in its happy seat.
The new arrivals were received with surprise and pleasure by our forest party. The signoras were all conversant with the history of Camilla's misfortunes, and bestowed upon her gentle and considerate caresses. Something solemn pervaded her whole appearance—a dreamy vestige of the insanity under which she had so long labored. It was a miraculous change which had come over her when she heard that pathetic prayer, and perceived the sudden presence of her lover, and the unutterable feelings of affection and penitence that stirred her soul when she found herself restored to his embrace had transformed her into a new and happy being, but left upon her this air of nameless pathos.
"I passed through Viterbo," said Silvio to Orazio, when their salutations were ended, "and saw a great commotion there for which I am scarcely able to account. The citizens were running about the streets, endeavoring to get out of the way of the soldiers. The soldiers, reinforced by strong detachments from Rome, are vowing to spear all Italians on the face of the earth, and, by way of a step towards this warlike project, have begun plundering the wineshops, where they lie for the most part dead drunk. The Papal authorities, who wished to keep the peace, were received by the rascals with the butt-ends of their muskets, and driven to flight. They have gone off with their agents to Rome, and are not likely to return for some time. The reinforcements were exclaiming that 'their flag had been dishonored, and that the stain must be washed out in blood. 'Flag dishonored!' that phrase calls to our mind the villainy of a certain neighboring Government, which, after infamously violating our territory, and taking, by a deceitful act, possession of our principal sea-port, treacherously attacked our capital, and upon receiving some severe blows, cried out, 'Treason! treason! our flag is dishonored!'
"But," said Silvio, resuming his narrative, "this confusion gave me a favorable opportunity of making observations, and coming on quietly to you, though I might have been hindered by a curious occurrence which happened. I was passing the 'Full Moon' hotel as a few officers, newly arrived from Rome, alighted from a carriage. Owing to the universal confusion, they could find no attendant to carry in their luggage, and one of them came up to me, crying out, 'Here, you fellow!' and taking me by the breast, attempted to drag me to the carriage. Fortunately I had already signalled to Camilla to go on in advance of me. My first impulse was to use my poniard, but restraining myself, I tore the man's hand from my breast, and aiming a blow with my fist full at his face, sent him flying against the wheels of the carriage without a single word. As you may imagine, I did not remain to gather the laurels of the victory, but turned on my heel, and walked with a quick step in the direction of the wood, and soon overtook my companion."
The merriment of his auditors, and the shouts of "Bravo, Silvio!" here interrupted the narrator for a moment.
"However," he observed, when the laughter ceased, "we can not remain long here in security, for I have no doubt that to-morrow, at latest, you will have the whole pack of foreigners on your track."
"Here in this forest," said Orazio, "we could make head against the whole army of the Pope. Were it not that we are so very few in number, and have these precious ladies to protect."
"Ehi! ladies to protect, indeed!" said Irene with some irony; "you have soon forgotten, Signor Rodomonte, that these same 'ladies' protected you to-day."
A burst of laughter broke from all; and the courageous chief of the forest stooped and kissed the hand of his beloved wife with pretty submission.
Meanwhile, the long dark shadows cast by the giants of the Ciminian wood spreading out to the west, announced the setting of the sun, who, wrapped in a glorious and variegated mantle of clouds, was about to hide himself behind the waves of the Tyrrhenian sea. Clelia, perceiving this, addressed Jack, who, fascinated by her beauty and amiability, was her devoted slave, and to whom she had confided the important care of the viands. "Well, my friend," she said in English, "all these true heroes of romance, it appears, do not trouble themselves about supper; and if you do not see to it, I fear we shall have to go to bed without food to-night."
"Aye, aye, ma'am!" was Jack's reply; and, with the invariable hitch to his waistband, he steered for the spot where the assistants had unloaded two mules, which carried the chief's baggage as well as the provisions. But, after such fighting and talk, they must feast at leisure in a fresh chapter.
Who does not prefer civilization to barbarism and the usages of savage life? Who would not choose the comforts of a refined home, cool in summer, warm in winter, well supplied with food, and replete with every comfort and even luxury, to the open country, with its inclemency, inconveniences, and vicissitudes of weather?
Yet when one remembers that the few monopolize the advantages of civilization, and that its victims are so many, one can not help doubting whether the world of humanity does reap much benefit from the present highly-developed state of civilization, and whether it might not be desirable to go back to the simple condition of the first inhabitants of the world, amongst whom, if there were no palaces, no cooks, no fine manners, no expensive clothes, no elaborate conventions, no luxuries in the way of food, neither were there any priests, police, prefects, tax-gatherers, or any other of our galling modern innovations; neither was one called upon to give up one's children to serve the caprices of a despot, under the pretense of serving the country and washing out "stains from flags."
However all this may be, a frugal supper in the forest on the soft green turf, hitherto untrodden by any foot of man; the guests seated on the trunks of old trees that furnish also a glowing and dancing fire; by the side moreover, of such companions as Julia, Clelia, and Irene—a supper in such circumstances must be a more delightful height of enjoyment than civilization could reach. Per Dio! give us such a forest supper, though it consist only of fruit and the luck of the chase, against any grand in-door entertainment. Many a time have we shared such a repast.
But our forest party had more than meagre fare. Gasparo, who was also in charge of the baggage, was commissioned, in company with Jack, to purchase and look after the provisions. He now spread a cold collation before the chiefs, with the sailor-boy's assistance—garnishing it with some green branches—which would have tempted even the palate of a Lucullus.
A few flasks of Montepulciano and Orvieto embellished the enamelled table, and, the savory meats, seasoned with the appetite which follows an arduous day's work, disappeared with amazing celerity.
Julia was in high spirits. It was the first time she had shared in such a fete-champetre, in the society, above all, of those who were her bello ideale of all that was romantic, chivalrous, and gallant.
Very near to her was her Muzio, disguised in the garb of a Roman model, and who was now known and proclaimed to be the descendant of an ancient noble family, and one of the richest heirs in Rome, it might yet appear.
That resistless principle, which, like the loadstone and the needle, attracts loving souls one to the other, kept him at the side of the woman of his heart, watching her slighest wish, providing her with every thing with proud servility; and all the while humbly glancing at her with that look which art vainly seeks to represent—the look which alone can be given and understood between those who love with a true and perfect love.
Julia also, with a little graceful dignity, enjoyed hearing Clelia and Irene converse with Jack in broken Italo-English. They drew him out to relate some of the episodes of his sea-life, the adventures he had met with, and the tempests he had witnessed in his long voyages to India and China, for he had been at sea since he was seven years old. The description he gave of the Chinese who stay at home and employ themselves in different kinds of work performed by women in other countries, while their wives row, and till the land, with their babies slung in a basket on their backs, caused much laughter among his fair hearers, and, indeed, to all present, when translated to them by one of the company.
"The nautical profession," said Julia, "is the one to which my country is most indebted for her greatness. My countrymen prize and honor their mariners. With us, not only in the countries bordered by the sea, but wherever there is a river or a lake, boys are to be seen continually taking exercise in boating and rowing, in which practices they run all kinds of danger, and this is the reason there are so many seafaring men to make the name of Britain great upon the ocean.
"I have known youths in France and Italy, who were destined to become naval officers, pass the greater part of their boyhood in the technical schools, going on board for the first time when they had attained their fifteenth and even their eighteenth year, when they suffer much, of course, from sea-sickness, and are exposed to the ridicule and contempt of the sailors.
"In England it is very different. Youths destined for the sea are put on board at eleven years of age, and frequently take long voyages, during which they are instructed practically in all the routine and details of their profession. This course insures the best naval officers in the world to England.
"The wealthy among my people do not hoard up money to look at it, but employ it frequently in purchasing a yacht; and there are, indeed, very few persons living near sea or river who do not own or hire some sort of craft, large or small, in which they take their pleasure, and exercise themselves in the art which constitutes the glory and prosperity of their land.
"In Italy you have seamen, I grant, who equal the best of any nation, but your officers will not stand the test of comparison. Your Ministers of Marine have ever been incompetent, and therefore incapable of improving and raising a profession which might yet render Italy one of the most important and prosperous nations of the globe."
The subject so treated by Julia was a little foreign to our Romans, who were naturally ignorant of sea affairs. Their priests long ago found the oar and the net of St. Peter too heavy for their effeminate hands, and gave themselves up to merry-making and luxury as the easiest way of promoting the glory of God.
A pause ensuing, Julia called for a song or narrative, and Orazio said, "Gasparo, the chief of bandits, could tell us, doubtless, some stirring passages in his adventurous life." Whereupon, with a bow and smile, the old man sat for a moment recalling some circumstance of his past life, and then answered-
"Perils on the sea I could not relate, because I have been very little upon it; but on land I have passed through my share of strange adventures: and if it will not weary you to listen to one, I could, perhaps, relate events that would make you shudder."
All expressing a wish to hear some portion of his history, Gasparo, settling himself to an easy attitude commenced the following story.
"I was born in the small city of S————, in the States of the Church, not far from the Neapolitan frontier. My parents were honest folk, employed as shepherds in the service of the Cardinal.
"Being sent early to the field to tend sheep, cows, and buffaloes, and nearly always on horseback, I grew up with a robust hardy constitution, and became a dexterous horseman.
"Up to the age of eighteen, I remained a true son of the Italian desert, knowing no other affection than that which I had for my horse, my lasso, and my weapons. With the latter I had become a formidable enemy to the deer and wild boar of the Roman forests. I was passionately fond of hunting, an exercise suited to my nature: and I was accustomed to pass whole nights lying in ambush, watching for the deer, or the great gray tuskers in the marshes, where they delight to lie rolling in the mud.
"I knew the places frequented by the harts and hinds, and very often returned home with one of those graceful animals slung over my saddle.
"One day, after having secured my horse at a little distance, I placed myself in hiding, on the watch for a stag. I had been there but a short time, when I heard footsteps on the path behind me—a narrow forest road that led to the village.
"At first I thought it might be a wild beast of some description, and kept my carbine in readiness to fire as soon as I perceived it. After listening a few moments, I thought I heard voices, and presently there appeared in sight a young priest whom I had occasionally seen walking in the village, while by his side was a young girl who appeared to accompany him rather unwillingly.
"I had time to observe them both; the priest was about twenty years of age, very tall and finely proportioned; in fact, only a carbine and pointed hat were wanting to make a fine hunter or soldier of him."
"The young girl! Ah! pardon my memory, still agitated by that sweet face!" and the old man's eyes here dimmed with tears. "The young girl was an angel! I do not know how it was they did not discover me, for her beauty caused me to utter an involuntary exclamation, and my heart was stirred by a new and astonishing emotion.
"He had offended her by some proposal, for she was turning to go; but as I regarded them, the priest threw his arm with almost violent force around his companion, and pressing his lips to her cheek, uttered some words that did not reach me, but caused a terrified and indignant look to pass over the girl's face, and she shrank back as if stung by a viper. Again the priest spoke and approached, when, with a cry, the peasant-girl broke from him and fled.
"He pursued her, and caught the shrieking damsel, whose hands he bound with her neck-rib-bon, and then forced her upon the ground. I can not tell why I was self-contained enough not to shoot him dead, but I had never drawn trigger against a human life, and I hesitated until he gave these last proofs of his abominable villainy. At this point, however, I sprang from my covert, and with one blow from the butt-end of my gun, felled him to the ground, and then went to the assistance of the young woman, who had fallen fainting at some little distance upon the sod. I raised her gently in my arms, and carried her to the side of a brook, where I bathed her face with the cool, running water, until she opened her lovely eyes and faintly smiled her thanks, for, as she gazed around, a look of relief passed over her features, when she perceived the absence of her persecutor. Then rising, she expressed, in a few words, her gratitude for my intervention, saying she was sufficiently recovered to return to the village, and bade me farewell, but seeing she was still agitated, I begged her to allow me to conduct her to her home. She gave a modest assent, and I walked in happy and respectful silence till we reached the entrance to the village, where she stopped, and pointing to a small but pretty dwelling, said, 'That is my father's house; I have nothing more now to fear, so I will bid you a grateful adieu.' Raising her hand to my lips, I kissed it fervently, saying, I hoped to have the pleasure of meeting her soon again, under calmer circumstances, for I was completely enchanted by her grace and beauty, and felt I could no longer be happy out of her presence.
"I remained to watch her enter her abode before I turned to seek my horse, which I found neighing impatiently at my prolonged absence. Through some acquaintances in the village, I learned the name of her whom I had been the means of saving from violence, and learned to my disappointment and horror that she was the priest's niece. Day after day I found some pretext for passing through the village, that I might obtain a glimpse of Alba, for that was her name; and twice I was fortunate enough to meet her and exchange a few words. I did not speak to her of love, but I felt she knew my passion for her, and was learning to return it.
"The priest, burning with rage at the thought of his infamy being not only frustrated by me but made known to the father of the maiden, resolved to be revenged. Being reproved by the old man for his brutal conduct, and threatened with public exposure unless he absented himself for a long time, until he should have thoroughly repented of his intended crime, the priest fell upon the old man, and with one blow from a mallet crushed in his skull. Then, fearing the consequences, he carried the dead body into the courtyard, and, placing it upon its back near a ragged stone, left it there, and retired to bed, leaving his neighbors to suppose, when the corpse was discovered in the morning, that the old man had fallen down in a fit, and striking his head against the stone pavement, had thus met with his death."
What matters a crime to a priest, if he can cover it? He had committed a gross lie by calling himself the minister of God, and now he took advantage of the easy ignorance of his neighbors to conceal a still grosser crime.
Those of his profession use double dealing all their lives.' A priest knows himself to be an impostor, unless he be a fool, or have been taught to lie from his boyhood, so that as he advances in years, he becomes not even able any longer to dissociate the false and the true. Whilst he lives in comfort, he makes the credulous multitude believe he suffers hardships and privations. Poor priest! Well do we remember seeing in America a painting representing one of the cloth seated at a dining-table spread with all kinds of viands and a flagon of wine, in the act of caressing his plump and rosy Perpetua, who was seated at his side; and, meanwhile, outside the door stood a poor Irishman with his wife and baby. All three were wan, emaciated, and miserably clad, yet the husband was dropping a coin into the priest's box, on which was written, "Give of your charity to the poor priest of God." Infamous mockery! On the one hand there was enjoyment, hypocrisy, and lying; on the other, ignorance, credulity, and innocent misery.
"One evening," continued Gasparo, "I was sitting in my hut, feeling rather weary after a long day's hunt, thinking of Alba, and dreading, from what she had told me, that some catastrophe might be impending, when the door flew open, and the object of my thoughts rushed in exclaiming, 'Murder! Murder!' and fell insensible upon the floor."
"The words of Alba revealed to me the horrible crime that had been perpetrated. I raised her fainting form, and laid her upon my pallet, for my parents were both dead, and I dwelt alone. Now I could, for the first time, realize the full and sweet beauty of my heart's love. The sight of this lovely creature almost lessened my aversion to the vile fratricide and his unlawful passion. Alba had never related to me what had passed on that night, and as I did not wish to awaken painful recollections, I had always avoided interrogating her upon the subject, so that I knew nothing of the dispute and murder. But the priest, supposing me aware of his misdeeds, and jealous of my love for Alba, schemed, as only a fiend could, to annihilate me through his own crime, though not daring to accuse me openly. He had hinted to his most intimate friends that I was his brother's murderer, and offered all he possessed to certain bravos if they would undertake to kill me.
"You can still perceive, in spite of my age, and the troubles that have weighed me down, that I was agile when a youth, and that I was capable of taking care of myself against ten priests. Well, Alba had come to tell me of her father's death and the priest's calumnies. And this scoundrel had me waylaid, as she warned me, so that I ran a narrow escape of losing my life. He had paid several cut-throats handsomely to destroy me. I was always, however, on my guard, and seldom went out of the house without my carbine; and my faithful little dog Lion could hear the movement of a small bird a hundred paces off, and would wag his tail and prick up his ears at the slightest sound. My poor, poor dog! he was a victim to his love for me."
And here the sensitive heart of the old chief, Gasparo, obliged him to pause a moment.
"Yes, those devils, daring one of my walks to S———, contrived to poison him.
"From S——— to my forest-home several thick places in the cover had to be passed. Here the bravos had hidden themselves once or twice, but, frustrated by my vigilance, and frightened at my carbine, they made their retreat as soon as I appeared, and informed the priest that they should give up the enterprise. Father Giacomo did not understand this, and finally persuaded them, after offering a higher sum, and regaling them abundantly with food and wine, to make another attempt, in which he himself was to accompany them. With his three highwaymen, he took up a position one evening near my little house, concealing themselves behind a large bush that grew by the side of the narrow path which led to it, and which they knew I should be obliged to pass.
"My poor Lion was dead, and on this occasion, in spite of all my precautions, I was taken by surprise. Four almost simultaneous shots were fired upon me from the bush, and a furious cry of 'Die' was uttered by the would-be assassins, who rushed upon me expecting to' find me mortally wounded. But not so, for I was saved as by a miracle. All four balls struck me, and three of them slightly wounded me, the most serious hurt being caused by the first shot, which carried off, as you see, a piece of my left ear; the second struck against my leathern belt, smashing only a few of my cartridges; the third pierced my hat, grazing my head; and the fourth grazed my right shoulder, occasioning a slight scratch.
"The first person who approached me was the priest, holding a carbine in his left hand and a poniard in the right. He was like a demon to behold, for rage and hatred; but my shot was more effective than his, and in one moment he was rolling at my feet, uttering frightful groans. I knocked over one of the bravos with my second discharge, whereupon the other two, seeing the figure their companions had cut, and noting the pistols still left in my belt, took to their heels and fled. This was the first time I had shed blood, and I felt some remorse as I regarded the dead bodies of the priest and his tool. In any other country I might have escaped unpunished by pleading the law of self-defense; for though I had no witnesses, the case was clear, and the rancor which the priest bore to me was so well known that it would not have been difficult to prove my innocence. But under the priestly government it is another matter, and the destroyer of one of their body would have no chance of escape; so I thought it best to flee the country.
"Then began the eventful history of my so-called brigandage; and I swear to you that amongst all the agents sent out of this world by my hand, there has not been one who did not first attempt my life. Many young men, persecuted like me by the clergy, followed me to my place of retreat; and very soon I had organized so formidable a band, that the Papal Government treated with me almost as with an equal power. Assassins or thieves by profession I never would receive into my company. The unfortunate of all grades were aided by me, and if the authorities of the priesthood were sometimes assaulted, it was only to warn them to cease their acts of injustice and infamy.
"In this manner I passed many years, in reality more of a ruler over the Roman country than he who sits in the Quirinal, until the creatures of that cunning court, seeing they could do nothing with me by force, had recourse to treachery. That bright jewel of holiness, my relative, Cardinal A————, whom may God reward! contributed more than any one else to my capture. I had the weakness to trust his specious promises, and remained, in consequence, fourteen years in irons, in a miserable prison. But the justice of God will at last find out those evil doers and punish them, for they are verily the scourge of humanity.
"When in the Papal galleys I heard of you, Orazio, and of your courageous resistance to the tools of the Vatican, and I assure you I prayed; Heaven that I might become before I died your assistant and companion. My prayer was heard, and I only desire to devote the short remainder of my life to the cause defended by you and your noble comrades."
Julia was interested in the narrative of the famous bandit, and after sympathizing with him, was about to ask Orazio to relate some passages of his career, when, looking around at the company, she perceived from their looks that repose after the fatigues of the day had become necessary; and, as the hour was late, she abandoned the idea, and watched with curiosity the preparations for sleeping in the open air.
Fresh branches from the trees were strewn upon the most level portions of the ground, under some of the gigantic oaks of the wood, and thus a magnificent sylvan couch was spread apart for the women, who were to rest together, covered with the cloaks of their beloved ones. Muzio offered his to Julia, with a beseeching look, and paid her with a glance of the deepest gratitude when she graciously accepted it. In the mean time Orazio and his friends placed guards and sentinels around, and gave orders to sound the reveille at dawn.
There, under the trees, extended on the turf, slept those upon whom the hopes of all true Romans hung. For Rome, after eighteen centuries of lethargy and shame, was beginning to awake and claim again a place of honor on the earth for her who was once its mistress.
Heaven has apparently willed that the highest pitch of human greatness shall be in its turn contrasted with the lowest depths of national humiliation. Witness that body of cut-throats now called the "Roman army," compared with the "Roman army" which once conquered all the known world. None but priests could have produced such an astounding and monstrous transformation.
While the hours had passed as above related, the General placed at the head of the Pope's troops arrived at Viterbo, with all the forces he had been able to gather, and called his superior officers to a council in the municipal palace. Among the number was one martial gentleman with a nose like a small melon, covered with slips of sticking-plaster, and this warrior was he who had received the blow from Silvio at the inn door. His face was flushed besides with wine, of which he had been partaking copiously to drown his chagrin, and he urged the General vehemently to proceed at once to assault the "brigands." The General, however, considered that it would be better to wait till daybreak before they made a move, for he was by no means certain that the soldiers could stand to their arms at that late hour, nearly all being more or less drunk; and, after some further discussion, the General's view was applauded by the council and adopted.
At daybreak, therefore, the champions of the altar and the tiara obeyed the bugle-call; but it required some little time to get these ornaments of warfare into order. Some were footsore by the rapid march from Rome to Viterbo, others by their flight from the Ciminian hill, others ill with potations, and therefore it was not until the sun rose high above the Apennines that the army was in marching order. Even then many were the delays, for the General was at the mercy of the native guides, who very unwillingly conducted him through the intricacies of the forest, of which he was of course ignorant.
The proscribed, who were thoroughly acquainted with it, had begun to move at early dawn, so that when the sun rose they had already reached the summit of the mountain, from whence they could survey the whole country, and were reconnoitring, to see if any troops were advancing from the town. The coming of the troops was thus directly perceived.
Orazio—whose assumption of the command no one had disputed—dispersed about a hundred of his men, under Muzio's direction, as skirmishers over the low lands and amongst the underwood bordering upon the road on which the enemy was advancing. The remainder he arranged in column on the rising ground, ordering them to be in readiness to charge at the first signal. Having thus disposed his main force, he summoned Captain Tortiglio, and questioned him about the different officers in command of the enemy, who was still at some distance, ascending the mountain side.
"He who commands the vanguard," replied Tortiglio, "is Major Pompone, a brave officer, but a bully of the first order."
"If I do not deceive myself," said Silvio, who was watching the enemy's movements through his telescope, "that is the very fellow who wanted me to carry his luggage for him, for his nose is unmistakable."
"And who is that on horseback, leading what I suppose to be the principal body?" again asked Ordzio.
"Lend me your telescope," said Tortiglio, and, having pointed it at the individual in question, exclaimed, "Per Dio! that is the commander-in-chief of the Papal army; and see, his mounted staff is just appearing!"
"What is his name?"
"His name is Count de la Roche—de la Roche Haricot. These French Legitimists, representatives of the feudal times, have names nearly all commencing with de, which are very difficult for us, 'of the Si,' to pronounce."
"You, then, belong to the language of the Si, Signor Spaniard?" asked Orazio rather roughly.
"Como no!" (and why not?) articulated the captain in Spanish; "are you alone the sons of the ancient Latins, and the possessors of that universal language? Leant that there is as much in common between the Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese languages as there is between the face of a Calabrian and that of an Andalusian, who indeed resemble each other like brothers."
"Bravo, Captain Tortiglio," said Attilio, who had just arrived, having left the division he was in command of for orders; "you are a fortunate scholar! We unlucky Romans are only taught by the priests to kiss hands, kneel, and attend the mass, but are left in ignorance of what goes on in grammars and polite learning outside the walls of Rome."
But the Papal army was advancing, and Orazio, like an experienced captain, kept measuring its progress, without being in the least discomposed, yet feeling that anxiety which a leader must experience when in command of a body of troops of any kind, and in the presence of a numerous enemy about to attack.
One of the inconveniences a guerrilla band has to sustain in time of battle, and which very much preoccupies the chief, is the necessity of abandoning the wounded in case of retreat, or of leaving them in charge of the terrified inhabitants, who are afraid of being compromised. These considerations, and the unequal number of the opposing forces, impelled Orazio to sound the signal for retiring, and the hunter, with the sagacity that distinguished him, gathered in his fifty men with as much coolness as he would have shown had he been summoning them to a new beat in the chase. Having communicated his intention to Attilio, and enjoined him not to attempt it too precipitately, but to execute the order of retreat in divisions, Orazio went to Muzio, who was prepared to receive the enemy, now marching rapidly upon him.
Exchanging a few words with the leader of the vanguard, he ascended to the highest point of the position, from whence he was able to survey every thing, accompanied only by two of his adjutants.
General Haricot was not wanting in a certain amount of gallantry, which would have been worthy of a better cause. He was now assailing the unknown position of the Liberals boldly, with his vanguard en echelon, being himself in the center of the line.
However it may be—whether in an engagement or in a pitched battle—the commander-in-chief ought to place himself in such a manner that he can command a view of as large a portion of the field of battle as the circumstances permit, and this he can usually best accomplish, by being himself at the head of the troops first engaged.
As he must receive information of all that passes during the fight, the General, if he places himself at a distance from the scene of action, subjects himself to serious loss of time, inaccurate reports, and, to what is of still greater importance, incapability to discover at a glance that portion of his command which may stand in immediate want of relief, or to note where, if victorious, he ought to send in pursuit of the enemy light bodies of cavalry, infantry, or artillery, to complete the repulse.
There was no failing, however, in this respect on the part of the two commanders-in-chief in this action. Haricot, emboldened by the superiority of his numbers, gave the order to attack without any hesitation. Orazio, though decided upon a retreat on account of his inferior force, was determined to give his opponent such a lesson as should make him more guarded and less precipitous in his pursuit. The irregularity of the ground, and the dense masses of trees had enabled Muzio to draw his men under cover into advantageous positions. There he desired them to await till the enemy came into point-blank range, to fire only telling shots, and then retreat behind the lines of the other divisions. This his valorous companions in arms did. Their first discharge covered the ground with the wounded and lifeless bodies of the enemy. The vanguard of the mercenaries was so demoralized as to retreat, and while supports, led on by the intrepid chief, were staying their backward progress, the confusion gave the Italians time to make their retreat in good order.
When Cortez disembarked at Mexico he burned his ships. When the Thousand of Marsala disembarked in Sicily they also abandoned their vessels to the enemy, and so deprived themselves of any hope of retreat; and truly these courageous acts conduced much to the success and triumphant conduct of both expeditions.
The proximity of friendly frontiers has often been the cause of defection in the ranks of the patriotic Italians. We have witnessed such scandals in Lombardy in 1848, caused by the tempting neighborhood of Switzerland, and also unhappily in the Roman States by the nearness of the royal territory. Such was the case with the Three Hundred after the many adventures here related. Orazio accomplished his retreat from the Ciminian hill without loss, but it was necessary to retire as far as the Italian dominion, and then it happened with his followers just as might have been expected, from their want of supplies and the temptation of safely.
Although this band was composed of courageous men, it dissolved like a fog before the sun when it touched the national frontier. The chiefs, after vainly reminding their men that their country was still in bondage, and that it was the duty of all to prepare for another struggle to free her, found themselves nearly alone. The eight or nine firm hearts with whom we are best acquainted, along with Gasparo and Jack, took the road to Tuscany on their way to Leghorn, where they expected to find the fair Julia's yacht, and gain some news of their absent friends. And here we will take leave of them for the present, to meet them later in new and adventurous scenes.