Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
https://books.google.com/books?id=xUtMAAAAcAAJ
(the New York Public Library)
DÜRR'S COLLECTION OF STANDARD
AMERICAN AND BRITISH
AUTHORS.
EDITED
BY WILLIAM E. DRUGULIN.
VOL. 50.
--------
LEONORA D'ORCO.
BY
G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.
LEONORA D'ORCO.
A HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
BY
G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.,
AUTHOR OF "LORD MONTAGU'S PAGE," "THE OLD DOMINION,"
"TICONDEROGA," "AGNES SOREL," ETC.
COPYRIGHT EDITION.
LEIPZIG: ALPHONS DÜRR.
1860.
LEONORA D'ORCO.
CHAPTER I.
There is a mountain pass, not far from the shores of the Lago
Maggiore, which has been famous of late years for anything but _fêtes_
and festivals. There, many an unfortunate traveller has been relieved
of the burden of worldly wealth, and sometimes of all earthly cares;
and there, many a postillion has quietly received, behind an oak-tree
or a chesnut, a due share of the day's earnings from a body of those
Italian gentlemen whose life is generally spent in working upon the
highways, either with a long gun in their hands or a chain round their
middles.
But, dear reader, the times I speak of were centuries ago--those named
"the good old times," though Heaven only knows why they were called
"good."
The world was in a very strange state just then. The resurrection of
art--the recovery of letters--the new birth of science, marked out the
age as one of extraordinary development; but the state of society
from which all these bright things sprang--flowers rising from a
dunghill--was one of foul and filthy fermentation, where every
wickedness that the corrupt heart of man can devise worked and
travailed for the birth of better things. That pass, in those "good
old times," saw every day as much high-handed wrong and ruthless
bloodshed as any pass in all Italy at the present time.
But such was not destined to be the case upon the present occasion,
though the times of which I write were the end of the fifteenth and
the beginning of the sixteenth centuries. Guilt, and fraud, and even
murder, often in those days covered themselves with golden embroidery
and perfumed flowers; and, interposed between acts of violence,
rapine, and destruction, were brilliant festivals, the luxurious
banquet, and the merry dance.
Wickedness, like virtue, proposes to itself enjoyment for its object;
and the Bible is right when, as it often does, it uses the word wisdom
as synonymous with virtue, for in the wisdom of the means is the
certainty of the attainment. But the men of those days, as if they
felt--how could they avoid feeling?--the insecurity of the ground on
which they based their endeavours for the acquisition of happiness,
were content to take the distant and doubtful payment by instalments
of fruition, and let the revel, the pageant, the debauch go to the
great reckoning as so much gained, without thinking of the terrible
_per contra_.
That pass was well fitted to afford a scene for many of the dealings
of those or these days. There the robber might lurk perfectly
concealed in the dark nooks and crannies of the rocks, to spring forth
upon the unwary traveller when least prepared--there a handful of men
might defend the passage against an army--there, the gay, happy party
might raise the wild echo of the mountains to their joyous songs--and
there the artist might linger for long hours, studying the fantastic
shapes into which the ground has been thrown, and filling up the
shadowy recesses with forms such as Rosa loved to draw.
For somewhat less than two miles, the road, which, even in those days,
was a good and well-constructed highway, passed between two ranges of
rocks. On one side--the left hand, going north--a stream ran by the
side of the path, some twenty feet below its level; but the bank
itself could be easily descended to the river, and the stream, though
deep in some places, was easily to be crossed at others, where it
spread out over fallen rocks and stones. But what was the use of
crossing it? On the other side was no path, and nothing but tall,
ragged cliffs, in some places upright and flat, as if they had been
cut with a knife, in others assuming the most wild and fantastic
forms. Here was a strange grinning face, of gigantic size, starting
forth in stone from the surface of the cliff; there a whole statue
standing out from the rocky mass, as if a sentinel guarding the pass;
then would come a castle with towers and keep, ballium and barbican
and all, and yet nought but mere rock, wrought by no hands but those
of time, earthquake, and tempest. But every here and there, from
pinnacle and point, or out of dell and cavern, would spring a dark
pine or light green ash; and the sight of even vegetable life would
harmonize the scene with human thoughts.
The average width of the bottom of the valley, including river and
road, might be a hundred yards; but there was one place, nearly at the
middle of the gorge--probably where, in ages far remote, before
history or even tradition began, the stream, rushing new-born from the
mountains, had paused in its course to gather strength ere it forced
its way through the rocky barrier opposed to it--in which a little
amphitheatre appeared, the mountains receding on either hand to let
the river make a circuit round a low knoll and its adjacent meadow,
some three hundred yards across. A clump of trees had gathered
together on the top of the little hillock, the turf was short and
smooth; the stream, though still rapid, and fretting at the fallen
stones in its way, had less of the torrent-like turbulence which it
displayed where the pass was narrower; now and then, too, it would
lapse into a quiet, deep, unruffled pool, where the many-coloured
rocks and pebbles at the bottom could be seen, glazed and brightened
by its crystal waters; and the white clouds, floating over the deep
blue Italian sky, would seem to pause, with curious pleasure, in their
flight, to look down for a moment on that fair spot, amid so much
stony ruggedness.
Through this wild gorge, toward noon of a soft but breezy spring day
in the year of grace 1494, coming from the northwest, rode a gay, a
numerous, and a brilliant party; too few, indeed, to constitute an
army, but too many and too well armed to fear the attack of any party
of banditti less in number than those great mercenary bands whose
leisure in those days was seldom long enough to rob on their own
account, so great was the demand for their services, in the same way,
among the princes of the land. And yet the cavalcade of which I speak
did not altogether assume a military aspect. It is true that the rear
was brought up by a body of a couple of hundred lances, and that
between these and those who rode foremost were a number of gentlemen,
old and young, from beneath whose surcoats glanced corslet and
cuissard, and who, though they rode with velvet cap on head and
sometimes a hawk upon the wrist, had helmet, and lance, and shield
near at hand, borne by gay and splendidly-dressed pages. But the most
remarkable group had no warlike signs about it. All men but
ecclesiastics and serfs, in those days, bore some kind of arms during
their most peaceful avocations; and thus there were swords and daggers
enough among the little party; but there were men in the robes of the
Church--bishops, and archdeacons, and even a monk or two, while those
of secular habit looked more like the carpet-treading, soft-lying
children of a court than warriors born for strife and conquest.
Thrown a little in advance of the mass rode two men-at-arms, heavily
harnessed, and behind them, at perhaps twenty paces distance, five or
six others, lance in hand. Then, however, came the principal group, at
the head of which, with a crimson velvet bonnet or round cap on his
head, ornamented with a single large ruby clasping a long, thin
feather, appeared, as it seemed, a mere youth. He was short in
stature, and somewhat, though not remarkably, deformed; at least, the
fall of his wide and fur-trimmed mantle concealed in a great degree
the defect of symmetry in his figure. All, indeed, had been done that
the tailor's courtly art could do to conceal it, and the eye was more
inclined to rest upon the countenance than upon the form. The face was
not very handsome, but there was a frank, bold expression about it
which won upon the regard at first sight; and yet a certain look of
suffering--the trace, as it seemed, of a struggle between a high
courage and bodily infirmity--saddened his aspect. A mere passing
stranger would have fixed the age of that young horseman probably at
eighteen or nineteen, but he had seen, in reality, between twenty-two
and twenty-three years; and although many vicissitudes had not
attended his course, enough experience of the world, and courts, and
men, had been his to have made him older in appearance and older in
mind than he was.
Grouped half a step behind this figure, and stretching quite across
the road--for no one would yield a place which he could fairly claim
near the fountain of all honour and the source of advancement--were a
number of cavaliers, of all sorts of callings, distinguished in
general by some peculiarity of costume. At least, any eye accustomed
to the dress of that day could distinguish among them the hard old
warrior, the bishop, the high officer of the law, and gay and gallant
courtiers not a few, among whom, holding their rank immediately behind
the principal personage, were six pages, habited in what was called
purple cloth of gold, mounted on light but beautiful horses, bedizened
with silken housings, and knots of ribbons, and flaunting feathers.
Among these last was no rivalry for place, for each had his particular
station assigned to him; but with the rest an occasional angry word,
and a more frequent angry look, would mark the indignation of some
aspiring courtier at what he thought an attempt upon the part of
another to get before him.
"My Lord of Tremouille," said one sharply, "I wish you would refrain
your horse; I have hardly space to ride."
"He will not be refrained, my reverend lord," replied the other, "'tis
an ambitious beast, well nigh as aspiring as a churchman. He will
forward, whatever be in his way. Good sooth, he knows his place well
too, and thinks that, though he might make a poor show in a king's
closet, he may be found better near his sovereign in the march or the
battle than any of the mules of the Church."
The words were spoken in no very low tone, and probably they reached
the ears of the young man at the head of the cavalcade; but he took no
notice, though the prelate turned somewhat red, and several who were
near laughed low; and a moment or two after, the whole party emerged
from the narrower part of the gorge into that little amphitheatre
which I have lately described.
"Why, what is here?" cried the leader of the band, reining up his
horse. "This is a scene of fairy land? Who expected to meet with such
a spectacle in this desert?"
"Why, sire," replied the prelate, "you may remember his Excellency the
Regent of Milan promised to meet you somewhere near this spot--at
least before you reached the city."
"Ah, Louis the Moor knows where to lay chaff for young birds,"
muttered La Tremouille; "commend me to these Italians for wheedling
and trickery."
"Hush, hush!" said one of his companions; "you cannot deny,
Tremouille, that this Ludovic is a stout and skilful soldier, as well
as a shrewd politician. I know not how he gained the name of 'The
Moor,' but----"
"Why, they gave him the name because all his relations die black, or
turn black after they die," answered the gallant soldier, with a
bitter laugh; "but, on my life, the pageant is pretty. 'Tis a
gallantry not expected in this wild place. Only, my good friend, look
to what wine you drink at Ludovic's expense; it sometimes has a
strange taste, and stranger consequences, men say, especially upon his
enemies."
"I am no enemy," answered the other; "you, look to yourself,
Tremouille. You must either dare the boccone or die of thirst."
"Nay, he will find out that I am one of his best friends," answered La
Tremouille; "for I would fain have dissuaded the king from this wild
expedition; and Master Ludovic, who urged it so strongly, will find,
before he has done, that, ask a Frenchman to dinner, and he'll stay to
supper also."
The scene which had excited so much surprise, and even admiration
among the French, derived its principal interest from the ruggedness
of the objects around. Some twenty or thirty small tents had been
pitched in the little meadow, round which the river circled, each with
its pennon fluttering from the top of the gilt pole which supported
it, while the group of trees upon the little monticule in the midst
was so interlaced, at some eight feet from the ground, with ribbons
and festoons of flowers, that it afforded as complete a shade from the
sun as any of the pavilions. The trunks of the trees, too, were bound
round with garlands, and although neither Tasso nor Guarini had yet
fully revived the taste for the pastoral amongst the Italian people,
the groups which were seen, both in the tents and under the branches,
were all habited as shepherds and shepherdesses, according to the most
approved notions of Golden Age costume in those days.
In each of the pavilions, the canvas door of which was thrown wide
open, was spread a table apparently well supplied, and beneath the
trees appeared a kingly board covered with fine linen and rich plate,
while a buffet behind groaned beneath a mass of gold and silver. But
the sharp eye of La Tremouille soon espied that the two shepherds who
stood at either end of the buffet, as well as two more behind it, were
especially well armed for a pastoral race; and he did not fail to
comment with a laugh upon the anomaly.
"Pooh! pooh!" cried the young King Charles VIII., turning his head
over his shoulder to the stout soldier, but smiling at his remarks,
"why should not shepherds have arms? They must defend their muttons,
especially when such wolves as you are about!"
La Tremouille answered with a proverb of very ancient date, "Well,
sire, they cannot say I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. God send your
majesty may not find some in this country, where they are plenty, I am
told. Will you not dismount, sire, to do honour to this festa?"
"But where are our hosts?" asked Charles, looking round. "My Lord
Archbishop, can you distinguish among the shepherds, Prince Ludovic or
his fair lady? You have had advantage of us all in seeing their
Highnesses."
"On my hopes, sire, I cannot tell which they are, if they be here,"
replied the prelate. "Here, pretty maiden, will you let us know who is
the lord of this feast, and who are to be the guests?"
The last words were spoken in Italian to a very handsome, dark-eyed
shepherdess, who, with a coquettish air, had passed somewhat near the
royal party. But the girl merely replied by the word "Hark!" bending
her head on one side and affecting to listen attentively. A moment
after, the flourish of some trumpets was heard from the continuation
of the pass on the other side of the meadow; and La Tremouille,
turning round, gave some orders in a low tone to one of his
attendants. By him they were carried to the rear, and immediately the
party of lances which formed the king's escort put itself in motion,
and spread out round one side of the meadow in the form of a crescent,
leaving the monarch and his immediate attendants grouped on horseback
in the midst.
If this was a movement of precaution against any party approaching
from the other side, it was unnecessary. A moment after, on the
opposite side of the meadow, issuing from the gorge like a stream of
gold, appeared a cavalcade which the chroniclers of the day have
delighted to describe as the height of splendour and magnificence. At
its head appeared Ludovico Sforza, nicknamed "the Moor," accompanied
by the Princess of Ferrara his young wife, and followed by the whole
court of Milan, each vying with the other in luxury and display. "The
princess," says an Italian writer of the day, "was mounted on a superb
horse, covered with cloth of gold and crimson velvet. She wore a dress
of green cloth of gold, floating over which was a light gauze. Her
hair, only bound by a ribbon, fell gracefully upon her shoulders
and upon her bosom. On her head she bore a hat of crimson silk,
surmounted by five or six feathers of red and grey. Her suite
comprised twenty-two ladies of the first rank, all dressed like
herself, and six cars followed, covered with cloth of gold, and filled
with the rarest beauties of Italy."
It would be tedious as well as difficult to give any description of
the scene that followed. The two parties soon mingled together.
Ceremony and parade were forgotten in gallantry and enjoyment. The
younger men at once gave themselves up to the pleasures of the hour,
and even the older and more sedate warriors and counsellors soon shook
off their frosty reserve under the warming influence of beauty and
wine; and thus began the expedition of Charles VIII. to Naples, more
like some festal pilgrimage than the hostile invasion of a neighbour's
dominions. Thus it began, and thus it proceeded till the end was
obtained, and then the scene changed to hard blows instead of feasts
and pageants, and care and anxiety instead of revelry and enjoyment.
I have said it would be tedious to describe what followed; but there
were episodes in the little drama acted in that wild amphitheatre
which connect themselves with my story, and must be told.