CHAPTER XLII. THE THIRTIETH OF APRIL.
Ok the day prefixed to this chapter, April, 1849, a foreign sergeantwas conducted a prisoner into the presence of the commander of theGianicolo. He had fallen into a Roman ambuscade during the night timeand, having been told by the priests that the defenders of Rome were somany assassins, he threw himself upon his knees as soon as he was takenbefore them, and begged them for the love of God to spare his life.
The commander extended his right hand to the suppliant, and raisinghim, spoke comfortingly to him. "This is a good omen," said the Italianofficer to those of his companions present. "A good omen! Behold foreignpride prostrate before Roman right--that is a sure sign of victory."
And truly, the foreign army which disembarked at Ci vita Vecchia, andhad fraudulently taken possession of the port, under the deceitfullyassumed title of friend, advanced on Rome, chuckling at the credulity,as well as at the cowardice of the Roman people. That very army,afterwards defeated by the native soldiers of the metropolis, retrodwith shame the road to the sea.
The 30th of April was a glorious day for Rome, and was not forgottenamong the Seven Hills. But how could it be commemorated amidst such anarmed rabble of enemies? In the small city of Viterbo, where therewere no troops, the inhabitants had devised a way of celebrating theanniversary of the expulsion of the foreigner, and were making activepreparations. But if there were no troops, there were not wanting spies,who informed the Roman Government of all that took place.
The Committee had arranged a programme for the feast, which set forththat after mid-day all work should be suspended, and that all the youngpeople, in holiday dress, with a tri-colored ribbon bound round theleft arm, should assemble in the cathedral piazza, and walk thence fourabreast in procession to the Porta Romana, so as to pay a salutation ofgood wishes from that point to the ancient mistress of the globe.
Frightened at this intelligence, the Roman Government dispatched toViterbo in hot haste a body of foreign troops which had only served thepriesthood a short time, with orders to suppress the demonstration atany cost. Not heeding this measure the little town held its _festa_,almost forgetting for a while, in the enjoyment of the moment, her longperiod of slavery. The solemn salute at the Porta Romana was deliveredin spite of the urban authorities, and the procession was returning ingood order, preceded by a band playing the national hymns, while theladies--always more ardent than men in any generous act--stood in thebalconies cheering and waving their tricolored hankerchiefs to thepassers-by, when a column of foreign soldiers were seen advancing at the_pas de charge_, with bayonets fixed. Until now the city, albeit underthe rule of the priests, had given herself up with peaceful mirth to theremembrance of that joyful day. But joy fled when the soldiers invadedthe streets yet filled with youthful Viterbians, and anger and troublesucceeded. A delegate of police, who, with a few assistants, precededthe mercenaries, commanded the people to retire. This intimation wasreceived with hisses of defiance, and a few well-aimed stones put themto flight. Taking refuge among the soldiers, they cried out to thetroops to fire upon the populace. This command of the cowardly delegatewas given because he wished to glut his vengeance, and also to securea decoration, which he could do by nothing so surely as killing thepeople. When this inhuman order was not heeded, he feared the hatredbetween the two opposing parties might cool, and desired the soldiers tocharge the populace with fixed bayonets.
The Viterbians, like all Roman citizens, had orders from theRevolutionary Committee not to take active measures of hostility, andwere therefore not prepared for the straggle. They dispersed rapidly,and escaped by byways to their homes, favored by the increasingdarkness of the evening, as well as by the sudden extinction of alllights, which the women as if by an universal signal caused everywhere.Thus the charge of the mercenaries took effect only upon a few straydogs and some donkeys on their way home, nor was any thing more tragicheard than the barking of the former and the braying of the latter asthey were pursued by the valiant champions of the priesthood.
By ten o'clock all was quiet in Viterbo. The troops lay down in themarket-place, resting their heads upon their folded arms, preparing torepose upon the laurels won by the fatigues and victory of the day. Nota citizen was to be seen in the streets, all having retired to theirhouses. At the hotel of the "Full Moon," the bell rang to assemblethe guests at a large round table spread with a dinner of about fiftycovers. As the bell sounded, a carriage and four drew up to the inndoor, and stopping at its gateway, a female clad in travelling costumealighted. From the elasticity of her step and movements it was easyto see she was young. The landlord hastened to receive her, andrespectfully inquired whether she would liked to be served with supperin her own apartment, to which she replied that she would sup in thepublic room, and in the mean time her sleep-ing-room was to be prepared.
The dining-room was already filled with visitors, the greater number ofwhom were officers belonging to the recently arrived detachment. Therewere also several strangers, both Italian and foreign, but very fewViterbians present. When the traveller entered the room all eyes wereturned towards her with looks of admiration; and truly our Julia, forit was she, appeared very lovely that eventful evening. She possessed toperfection that intelligent and high-bred expression which distinguishesher restless race. All made room for her. The Italians assumed an air ofpolite admiration, and the officers, twirling the ends of their pointedmustaches, straightened their shoulders and adjusted their facialexpression with the look of so many conquerors of female admiration.
At the head of the table sat the master of the house, elegantly dressed,who prayed the beautiful Englishwoman to place herself by his side.She accepted the seat, and the officers pressing forward to be near theyoung lady, took possession of all the best places. Observing a Pope'shireling on her right, Julia began to regret having accepted thelandlord's invitation, and while glancing round the table with achagrined air, was electrified by encountering Muzio's eyes fixed uponher. He was seated between Attilio and Orazio at the end of the table.They all three wore silk hats, cravats, and overcoats, like foreigntravellers, and Julia had foiled to recognize them at first, havingnever seen Muzio but when wrapped in his cloak, or Attilio except in thesimple garb of an artist, and Orazio once only for a short time in theforest when armed from head to foot. What should she do? Rise and go tothem, impulse suggested, and ask a thousand things which she wished toknow. But how could she venture to do this, when fifty pairs of eyeswere gazing at her, fascinated by her charming face.
And Muzio, the outcast, the gentleman, the chief of the counter-police;the man who, like his namesake (Scavola), would have placed at hisJulia's sweet bidding not his hand only, but his head also upon burningcoals--what joy the meeting brought, and yet what agony to see the starof his life, his goddess, his hope, seated at the side of a foreignsoldier, the instrument of a vile tyranny, and compelled to acceptcivilities from his contaminated hand, perhaps freshly soiled by theblood of Romans. Oh, you young men, who are in love with a noble maiden,have you not felt what splendid new strength her presence gives to you?When unworthy men presume to affront her with attentions, at such amoment do you not feel you have ten hearts to devote to her, ten men'slives to sacrifice for her? If not you are a coward, and a coward, letus tell you, is despised by women.
You may sin, and she will pardon you; but cowardice a noble woman willnever forgive. Muzio, however, was only too loving and rash; and woe tothat fine lady-killer by the British maiden's side! Had the Roman youthyielded to the dictates of his angry breast, it wanted little to haveseen a flash of fire in the air, or to have let him feel the cold bladeof a dagger in his vitals.
But Julia read in her lover's eye the storm that was raging, and herlook, perceived by him alone, calmed down the Roman's passionate soul.
Between the courses, the foreign officers conversed on the affairs ofRome, or the topics of the day, and, as usual, with but little respectfor the Roman people, whom they commonly despised. Julia, disgusted bytheir indecorous conv
ersation, rose very soon, with a majestic mien, anddesired to be conducted to her apartment. Our three friends were burningto kiss her hand, and had even made a move to quit their places, whena sudden burst of laughter from the foreign officers made them resumetheir seats. The laughter was caused by a coarse jest, uttered by oneof the number, of which the following words came to the ears of ourindignant trio:--"I thought I was coming to Viterbo to use my armsagainst men, but find there are only rabbits here, who bolted into theirburrows at our very appearance. Diavolo! where are all these Liberalswho made such a noise?"
Attilio, who had not reseated himself, hastily gathered his own and hisfriends' gloves, and, making them into a handful, threw them, without aword, full and hard in the face of the slanderer.
"Oh!" exclaimed the Papalino, "what bundle is here?" and picking up themissile, he unrolled the gloves, saying, "So, then, I am challenged bythree! Here is another sample of Italian valor! Three against one! threeagainst one!" And again the fellow laughed immoderately.
The three allowed this fresh burst of merriment to pass, but thehilarity of all the strangers present being aroused by it, Muzio, assoon as the laughter ceased, cried in a loud voice, "Three against asmany as dare to insult Italians, gentlemen!"
The effect of these few words was very startling, for, as he utteredthem, the three friends arose and darted angry glances first at one andthen at another of the officers, presenting, with their uncovered andbold young heads, to the assembly three models a la Michael-Angelo. Theywere three variations of that manly and martial beauty which nature'sheroes have; three types of noble anger in the glowing veins of generouscourage.
Different effects were produced on the two parties present. The Italiansat the table were delighted, and regarded the champions of Italian honorwith smiling approbation and gratitude.
The foreigners remained for a time stupefied, wondering at the personalgrace and manly beauty of the trio, and at their nervous and proudbearing. This amazement ended, sarcasm came to the rescue, and one ofthe youngest exclaimed, "Friends, a toast!" All rose, glass in hand, andhe continued: "I drink to the fortune of having at last found enemiesworthy of us in this country!"
Orazio responded, "I drink to the liberation of Rome from foreignfilth."
These words seemed to the officers to be too insulting to be overlooked,and they placed their hands menacingly upon their swords; but one of thenumber, of a maturer age, said gravely, "My friends, it will not answerto make a disturbance here. The peace of the city must not be disturbed,for we came here to restore order. At daybreak we will meet in evennumbers these quarrelsome signors. What we have to do is to see thatthey do not then deprive us of the honor of meeting them.
"The opportunity of fighting the enemies of Italy is much too happy acircumstance to let it escape," answered Attilio. "If it please you wewill remain together until morning, when we can walk in company to theplace of meeting."
To this proposition all consented. The foreigners called for writingmaterials, to inscribe their names, in order to draw lots to decide whoshould fight. Amongst the Italians three gentlemen offered to be secondsto their countrymen. Then there were the arms to be considered. As therehad been such open defiance on both sides, it was decided that theyshould fight to the death, that the opponents should be placed at adistance of fifteen paces apart, and that at a signal from their secondsthey should attack one another with sabre, revolver, and poniard.
The three champions of the priests whose names, written upon slips ofpaper, were drawn out of the hat which served the purpose of an urn,were Foulard, a French Legitimist; Sanchez, a Spanish Carlist; andHaynau, an Austrian. The seconds busied themselves during the remainderof the night in examining the arms, and in endeavoring to match themwith absolute equality.