_Capture of Monte Catini.--Castruccio treacherously
made prisoner by Ranieri, Governor
of Lucca.--Delivered, and proclaimed
Consul._
The winter passed away, and with the summer the toils of the soldier
began. Castruccio left Lucca, and joined the army of Uguccione against
the Florentines. He took leave of his lady; yet she neither tied the
scarf around him, nor bade him go and prosper. Florence was her native
town; and love of their country was a characteristic of all Florentines.
There was in that city an energy of spirit, which panting to expand
itself, sought for new emotions, or exalted those that were before felt,
until each sentiment became a passion. The Florentines were patriots;
there was not one among them, who would not have sacrificed wealth,
life, and happiness, to the prosperity of his native city. Euthanasia
was brought up in the midst of public discussions and of expressions of
public feeling; the army of the Florentines contained her best friends,
the companions of her youth, all among men whom she had esteemed and
loved; how then could she bid her lover, go, and prosper, when he went
to destroy them? She would have been still more unhappy, could she have
anticipated the event of the campaign.
Uguccione engaged himself in the siege of the castle of Monte Catini;
and the Florentines, after having made every exertion to assemble and
discipline their troops, advanced against him with a larger army than
they had ever before brought into the field. Nor were the preparations
of Uguccione inferior in vigour; he assembled all his allies, and
awaited with confidence the arrival of the enemy. During this interval
however, the chief fell ill, and was obliged to retire from the camp:
the nominal command of the army devolved on his eldest son Francesco;
but all looked up to Castruccio as their real leader. The Florentines
advanced full of hope; and the Lucchese awaited them with steady
courage. The battle was long and bloody; in the beginning of the combat
Francesco was killed, and Castruccio perceived the soldiers make a
sudden halt, when they saw their general fall: instantly feeling that
the command devolved upon him, he galloped to the front of the lines, he
threw off his casque that he might be distinguished, and, bidding the
trumpets sound, he led his troops to a fresh assault. His army was drawn
out on the plain, and every eye was turned upwards towards the castle,
which, situated on the height of a steep hill, was the goal they must
win. Castruccio had seen service in France; but with far different
feelings did he now engage in battle. He was surrounded by his friends;
he saw those he loved advance with a steady eye to the danger towards
which he led them; he looked up, and saw above the high seated castle
that he must storm; be saw the closely set ranks of the enemy; he beheld
all this with one glance, one feeling quicker than a look, and the
trumpets sounded while he waved his sword; his spirits were exhilarated,
his heart swelled,--tears--tears of high and uncontrolable emotion,
filled his eyes, as he dashed through the ranks of the enemy, and cried,
"Victory, or death!" None dared disobey his voice. His dark brown hair,
on which the sun shone, might be distinguished amidst a forest of
hostile javelins. He was wounded; but he refused to retire; and fixing
his eye on the castle walls--he cried, "There is our home!" All gave way
before his fury; that part of the Florentine army which had been drawn
out on the plain, was dispersed and fled--the rest retreated towards the
castle; when he saw them retreat, when he first perceived that they gave
ground before him, his triumph and extacy rose almost to frenzy; the
mountain was steep, he threw himself from his horse, his troop followed
his example; he called on them by the names of father and brother to
follow his steps. "Go on!" they cried, "go on!" And they broke through
all the impediments placed to impede their ascent, and were seen in
close array, winding up the steep path towards the castle.
The victory was due to him alone; he, ever foremost, scaled the height,
and first displayed the Ghibeline banner from the walls of the castle of
Monte Catini; while, his cheek pale with pain, and his limbs trembling
from loss of blood, it seemed almost as if his own death would seal the
bloody conquest. The Florentines sustained irreparable loss; their
general, the son of the king of Naples, several of his relations, and
many members of the noblest families in Florence, fell. The loss is
compared by the Florentine historians to the defeat of Cannæ; and many
years elapsed before Florence could fill up the gap among her citizens
made by the havoc of that day.
Such was the news that blanched poor Euthanasia's cheek. She had spent
the period that had elapsed since the departure of Castruccio, in utter
solitude. Her anxiety, and the combat of feelings which she experienced,
destroyed all her peace: she dared not give her prayers to either side;
or if, following the accustomed bent of her inclinations, she wished
success to her townsmen, the idea of Castruccio defeated, perhaps
killed, turned all her thoughts to double bitterness. Yet, when the
Florentines were indeed defeated, when messenger after messenger brought
intelligence from her terror-stricken friends of the sad losses they had
sustained, when the name of Castruccio as the slayer was repeated with
fear and curses by those whom she tenderly loved; then indeed the
current of her feelings returned with violence to its accustomed
channel, and, bitterly reproaching herself for having dared to hesitate
in a cause where her country was concerned, she knelt down, and solemnly
and deliberately made a vow, sanctifying it by an appeal to all that she
held sacred in heaven and upon earth,--she made a deep and tremendous
vow, never to ally herself to the enemy of Florence: and then, somewhat
calmed in soul, though ever sorrowing, she waited for the return of
Castruccio to Lucca, so to learn if he could clear himself, or if indeed
he were that enemy to Florence against whom her vow was made.
If the overthrow and massacre of the Florentines had moved her soul to
its very depths, her horror was tempered with tenderness, when she heard
that Castruccio had been brought back wounded to Lucca. The glory of
this victory was attributed to him alone; and this glory, which appeared
a shame to Euthanasia, excited in her feelings of confusion and sorrow.
Now for the first time she felt the struggle in her soul, of inclination
warring with duty; for the first time she feared that she ought not to
love Castruccio; she thought of retreating to Florence, and of shutting
him out from her sight, if possible from her thoughts; yet, as she
meditated this, she thought she heard the soft tones of his melodious
voice sounding in her ears, and she sank into grief and tears.
This painful struggle ceased not, until she saw him again; and then, as
before, all pain and doubt vanished. His cheek was pale from the
consequences of his wound, and his person, having thus lost its usual
decision of mien, was more interesting; but his eyes shone, and they
beamed unutterable love upon her. Truly did he look a hero; for power
sat on his brow, and victory seemed to have made itself a home among the
smiles of his lips. "Triumph, my sweet girl," he said; "all my laurels
are spoils for you. Nay, turn not away as if you disdained them; they
are the assurances of the peace that you desire. Do not doubt me; do not
for a moment suffer a cloud of suspicion to darken your animated
countenance. This sword has made me master of peace and war; and need I
say, that my wise and gentle Euthanasia shall direct my counsels, her
love and honour being the aim and purpose of my life?"
Upon such words could aught but pardon and reconciliation attend?
Castruccio's wound was slight, and soon healed. But he was now more than
ever immersed in his political plans: throwing off the mask, he appeared
openly as the leader of a party against Uguccione; his palace was for
ever open, and crowded with friends and followers; and, when he rode
through the streets, he was attended by a band of the first nobles in
Lucca. To his other talents Castruccio joined a vein of raillery and
bitter irony, which, when he chose to exert it, seemed to enter into and
wither the soul of its object. His scoffs and mockery of the Faggiuola
family were repeated through Lucca; and the person against whom they
were particularly directed, the governor whom Uguccione had appointed,
was a man formed to feel in every nerve the agony of derision.
Francesco having been killed at the battle of Monte Catini, Uguccione
had set his son Ranieri over the Lucchese. Ranieri was only
two-and-twenty years of age; but his straight black hair fell over a
forehead prematurely wrinkled; without the courage of his father, he
possessed all his cunning and ambition, as much cruelty, and even more
deceit. He had long been a pretender to the hand of the countess of
Valperga,--with no hope except that with which his own vanity inspired
him: yet, when he perceived that Castruccio was his favoured rival, he
felt as if he had been robbed of his inheritance; and the beauty,
talents, and glory of his adversary made him taste to the dregs the cup
of envy. The consciousness of power alone for a while restrained the
manifestation of his feelings. He soothed himself with the idea that
Castruccio's life was in his hands; yet a lurking doubt prevented him
from putting forth his strength; he glared on his enemy, as a tiger who
crouches within reach of his prey; but he dared not spring. He would
gladly have got rid of his rival by private assassination; but
Castruccio was too cautious, and ever went too well attended, to afford
an opportunity for such a measure. Rivalry in love was however but a
small part of the cause of the hate with which Ranieri was filled; for
Castruccio no longer disguised his abhorrence of the cruelty of
Uguccione, or his contempt for the cowardly and artful policy of his
son; and a man far less cunning than Ranieri might easily perceive that
he laboured day and night for the overthrow of the Faggiuola family.
An accidental scuffle brought these feelings into action; it were idle
to attempt to discover the cause of a quarrel, at a period when civil
broils were so common, not only among the Italians; but when the
capitals of the French and English monarchs were often stained with
blood on the most trivial occasions. This affray arose between the
dependents of Ranieri and of count Fondi; Castruccio and his companions
joined in it; and it ended in the rout and flight of Faggiuola's men,
one of whom was killed. Ranieri seized this opportunity to send to his
father with greater effect an account of the haughty conduct and
machinations of Castruccio. The truth had been sufficient to awaken the
suspicions of a man, whose rule it was never to permit an enemy to live;
but the colouring that Ranieri gave to the affair, made it appear as if
open war had been declared between the parties at Lucca. Uguccione had
bathed his hands that very winter in the best blood of Pisa; and he
considered one life more as a small sacrifice towards the completion of
his security. His advice therefore was to act cautiously, but swiftly,
and that the next messenger might bring intelligence of the death of his
adversary.
This direction filled Ranieri with unwonted joy; it smoothed the
wrinkles of his brow, and lighted up his eyes with ferocity: he would
willingly have led forth his troops, and seized Castruccio in the midst
of his partizans; but his deceitful disposition suggested to him a
quieter, and as he imagined, a surer mode of proceeding. The enemies met
at church; they disposed themselves on opposite sides of the aisle,--the
followers of Castruccio viewed their opponents with a careless smile of
contempt, which was returned by a sullen scowl; while Ranieri manifested
an alternation of gaiety and uneasiness, which his art could not
entirely conceal. High mass being over, Castruccio was about to retire,
when Ranieri, quitting his attendants, walked across the aisle; seeing
his movement, the followers of Antelminelli crowded about him; but he
bade them fall back, and with a haughty step, and a smile of conscious
superiority, he also advanced towards his enemy; they met midway, and
the two parties, their hands on their swords, watched every motion of
their respective chiefs during this unexpected parley. Had not Ranieri's
character for artifice been impressed on every mind, his appearance
might now have lulled suspicion;--he smiled, and spoke with a loud,
careless voice; and what was hidden under this friendly outside seemed
rather timidity, than enmity: Castruccio fixed his eagle-eye upon him;
but fear appeared to be the only feeling which lurked behind the
frankness that Ranieri wished to assume: nor did he shrink from the
examination; he spoke:
"Messer Castruccio, methinks you are much a stranger to my councils and
board. Do you suppose that my father forgets your services in his cause,
or that he does not pray for an opportunity of shewing his gratitude?
Evil reports, I own, have gone abroad to your disadvantage, and your
absence from my palace might give some colour to these; but I am not a
suspicious man, and trust the actions of my friends which speak in their
favour, more readily than the hearsay which traduces them. If any ill
blood exists between us, and I am the cause of it, I freely ask your
pardon for any offence I may have given you, and request, as the seal of
our reconciliation, that you would honour with your presence a poor
banquet I am to give to-night to the nobility of Lucca.
Castruccio was somewhat astounded by this speech, which was concluded by
the offer of his hand from the speaker. Castruccio drew back, and
replied; "My poor services, my lord, were offered to my country; from
her I hope for gratitude, from your father I neither deserve nor expect
this meed. It were as well perhaps not to attempt to mix jarring
elements; but, since you offer hospitality, I will freely accept it;
for, whatever cause of alienation may exist between us, you are a knight
and a soldier, and I do not fear deceit."
Castruccio withdrew; and the certainty of revenge alone could have
quelled the deadly anger of Ranieri at the haughty and supercilious
treatment that he had received.
Before the hour for the banquet had arrived, Castruccio rode to the
castle of Valperga, and related the occurrence to Euthanasia. She
listened attentively, and then said: "There is some deep plot in this; I
know Neri della Faggiuola; he is at once cowardly, artful, and cruel. Be
on your guard; I would intreat you not to go to this feast, but that,
going with your followers, I do not see what danger you can incur; but
doubt not, that this, or any other friendly overture that may follow; is
only a snare in which it is expected that you will entangle yourself."
"Fear not, dear girl; I am open-hearted with my friends;--but I have
been a soldier of fortune; and at such a school I may well have learned
to detect wiles more deep, and politicians more cunning than Ranieri.
Let him beware; this moon which has just bent her bow among the clouds
of sunset, will not be two weeks old, when you may see this deep schemer
take his solitary way to Pisa, glad to escape from the vengeance that he
so well merits."
Castruccio attended the feast of Ranieri, accompanied by count Fondi and
Arrigo Guinigi. He had expected to find the rest of his friends and
partizans assembled there, since they had all received invitations: but
Ranieri had acted with the utmost caution; and, a very short time before
the hour fixed for the banquet, he had sent messages to the friends of
Castruccio, and under various pretexts, had, unknown one to the other,
employed them on different affairs which he pretended to be of the
greatest urgency. When therefore Castruccio entered the banquetting
hall, he found only the officers of the German troop attached to the
Faggiuola faction, some old men who had retired from public affairs, and
a few Guelph families who Ranieri supposed would remain neuter on the
present occasion. Castruccio observed this, and felt that all was not
right; yet not for a moment did the expression of his physiognomy
change, or his frank demeanour betray any sign of suspicion. It was not
then the custom, as in the more barbarous society of France and England,
to attend peaceful meetings as if armed for mortal combat; and
Castruccio was unarmed, except with a small dagger, which as a matter of
caution he concealed about his person.
The repast was sumptuous; course succeeded course; and the most delicate
sweetmeats and richest wines invited the guests to a prolongation of
their pleasures. Castruccio was both from habit and principle
abstemious, and the quiet of the banquet was first interrupted by a
sarcasm of Ranieri, as he pointed to the quantity of water which his
guest mingled with his wine. The latter replied; and his irony was the
more keen from the reputation of cowardice and luxury which his enemy
bore. Ranieri grew pale; and, filling his own cup with pure wine, he
presented it to Castruccio, saying; "Nay, Messere, before you depart,
dishonour not my pledge, but drink this cup of generous Cyprus, to the
overthrow of the enemies of Faggiuola."
These words were the signal agreed upon with his soldiers; they suddenly
entered, surrounded the other guests, and throwing themselves upon
Castruccio, endeavoured to secure him. Twice he threw them off: and once
he had nearly drawn his stiletto from his bosom; but he was overpowered
and manacled with heavy chains--yet, standing thus impotent, his
eagle-glance seemed to wither the soul of Ranieri, who, unable to give
voice to the irony with which he had intended to load his victim, gave
orders that he should be carried to prison.
Ranieri then addressed his guests, telling them, that the riotous
behaviour of Castruccio the preceding week, and the murder of one of his
servants, were the just causes of his imprisonment. He bade them not
fear any danger to their own persons, unless they should rashly attempt
to disturb the due course of justice. Arrigo, with all the warmth of
youth, would have replied with bitter reproaches; but count Fondi,
making him a signal of silence, and deigning only to cast on Ranieri a
smile of contempt, retreated with the youth from the violated board.
Ranieri invited his guests to continue their festivity, but in vain:
they were silent and confounded; one by one the Italians withdrew, and
Ranieri was left only with his officers who were chiefly Germans, and
the remainder of the evening was spent in that intemperate enjoyment of
the bottle, which the Italians held in wonder and contempt. Ranieri did
not wish to drown the voice of his conscience, for that was his servant,
and not his monitor; but his coward spirit failed, when he reflected on
his critical situation, and the number and resoluteness of Castruccio's
friends: wine inspired him with boldness; and a riotous night succeeded
and crowned a misspent day.
No feelings could be in more perfect contrast one to the other, than
those with which the jailer and his prisoner hailed the morning of the
ensuing day. Castruccio had slept soundly on the pavement of his
dungeon; and, though his limbs were weighed down by chains, his spirit
was light and tranquil; he trusted to his friends, and he trusted to the
intimate persuasion he felt, that his star was not to stoop before that
of the cowardly and treacherous Ranieri. Looking at the clouds as they
passed swiftly across the sun borne along by an irresistible wind, he
chaunted a troubadour song of victory.
Ranieri awoke with those feelings of listless depression that succeed to
drunkenness; the idea that Castruccio was his prisoner struck him with
affright; and now, repenting that he had taken so decided a measure, he
sent for his favourite attendant, and bade him go and reconnoitre the
town, and endeavour to discover the opinions and temper of the citizens.
During the absence of this man he was several times on the point of
sending an order for the instantaneous death of his prisoner; but his
heart failed him: he felt that he might be disobeyed, and that the
mandate of death might be the signal for the deliverance of Castruccio.
Thus he waited, irresolutely, but impatiently, till circumstances should
decide the course he was to pursue.
The report of his messenger was ill calculated to allay his
apprehensions. Knots of citizens stood in the streets and market-place,
who, with serious mien and angry fervour, talked over the occurrence of
the preceding evening. Some friend of Castruccio was at the head of each
of these, who incited the people to action, and, ridiculing the
cowardice, and reprobating the treachery and cruelty of Ranieri,
awakened in every heart love and reverence for Castruccio, by the well
deserved praises that he bestowed upon him. The word Liberty seemed to
be creeping among them and warming every soul, while it struck a blight
upon the sensations of Ranieri: he dared not act, but sent a messenger
to his father at Pisa, recounting what he had done, and desiring his
assistance in the accomplishment of his revenge.
A few weeks before, Uguccione had caused Bonconti and his son, two Pisan
nobles, much loved and esteemed in that town, to be put to death: he had
before committed flagrant injustices and legal murders in that city, and
to these the people had submitted: but Bonconti was a man of
understanding and courage; the Pisans had looked up to him as the
instrument of their deliverance from the tyrant; by his death this task
seemed to devolve into their own hands, and their sullen looks and
whispered discontents shewed plainly that they were about to right
themselves. Uguccione sat unsteadily on his seat of power; and his
uneasiness, as is often the case in minds untamed by humanity, begot in
him a hasty courage, and fierce rashness, that resolved not to yield to
any obstacle; he was a stag at bay, and the Pisans stood about him
watching some weak side on which they might commence their attack.
At this moment the messenger of Ranieri arrived, relating the seizure of
Castruccio, and the fears of the governor. "Fool!" cried Uguccione,
"does he not know that the members walk not without the head?"
So, without giving one moment to reflection, he hastily called his
faithful troop together, consisting of about four hundred men, and,
leaving Pisa, hastened at full gallop towards Lucca. The Pisans dared
not trust their good fortune, when they saw their enemy and his
adherents voluntarily desert their post, and deliver a bloodless victory
into their hands; before Uguccione had reached the summit of Monte San
Giuliano, which is, as Dante says, the
_Perchè i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno,_
the cry of liberty, and death to the tyrant, arose in the town; the
multitude assailed the house of Uguccione; some of his household fell;
the rest fled; and the crowd, now somewhat appeased, assembled to
constitute as their chief, a man of understanding and valor, who might
bring under discipline the furious passions of the injured Pisans.
Uguccione found Lucca in open revolt: he entered the town, and at the
head of his troop endeavoured to charge the mutinous multitude. It was
vain; firm barriers thrown across the streets impeded the horses, and
the tyrant was obliged to parley with the heads of the revolters. They
demanded Castruccio; and he was brought forth chained, and delivered to
them; his fetters were knocked off, and, mounting a charger brought by
one of his friends, his manacles carried as a trophy before him, he was
led in triumph to his palace. The people almost worshipped him as he
passed, and the air rang with acclamations in his favour; a crowd of his
adherents, well armed, clustered about him, proud of their victory, and
proud of the chief whom they had delivered. His chains were affixed to
the tower of his palace, in commemoration of this sudden change of
fortune. Uguccione fled:--he did not wait to be expelled by the furious
populace; the news reached him of the revolt of Pisa, and it struck him
with a panic; he was accompanied by Ranieri; and, quitting Lucca by the
northern gate, they hastened across the mountains to Lombardy, and in
one day fell from the rank of powerful chieftains, to be soldiers of
fortune at the hire of the first prince who might require their
services.
Castruccio and his adherents assembled in his palace to deliberate on
the government they should choose; the multitude assembled round, and
demanded to behold their beloved chief.--Castruccio shewed himself at
the balcony, and was saluted with one cry, as Lord of Lucca, and captain
of the war against the Florentines: his friends joined in the
acclamation; but Castruccio, who never allowed a momentary enthusiasm to
obliterate the plan of conduct that he had marked out for himself, made
a sign for silence, which was obeyed. He then addressed the people, and,
thanking them for their love and services, declared that he could not
alone support the government of his town, and, after many modest
observations, requested a companion in the weighty task. The people
acceded to his wishes, and the Cavaliere Pagano Quartezzano was named as
the sharer of his dignities and power under the appellation of consul.