_Valperga taken._
After the departure of Tripalda, Euthanasia remained long on the
battlements of her castle, watching the men who were employed in
repairing and erecting some outworks for its defence. Every now and then
she heard a murmuring near her, a slight noise, and then a voice which
said--"Aye, that will do; this helmet is still too large, I must find
some way to cut it round the edges."
Looking up, she saw at a small window of one of the projecting towers
the Albinois, who appeared furbishing and repairing arms. "Are we so
straitened for men," she said, "that you are obliged to turn armourer,
my poor Bindo?"
"Not an armourer, but a soldier, lady; to-morrow I gird on my sword for
your defence."
"You, and a sword! Nay, that is impossible; you must not expose yourself
to danger, where you can do no good."
"Countess, have firm hope; I have learned from the stars, that to-morrow
is a fortunate day for us. I have visited the holy fountain; and,
sprinkling its waters three times around, I have called on its saints to
aid us: to-morrow is named as a lucky day for us, and I will be among
your defenders."
He spoke earnestly; and so highly wrought were the feelings of
Euthanasia, that, although at another time she might have smiled, she
could now with difficulty repress her tears. "If you would defend me,"
she replied, "wait then near me; I will not indeed have you risk your
life to no end."
"Why, Madonna," said Bindo, "should you care more for my life, than for
those of the brave fellows who will to-morrow die for you? We shall
succeed; but death will be among us; and to-morrow many a child will
lose its father, and many a wife her husband, fighting for this heap of
stones which can feel neither defeat nor triumph. I will be among them;
fear not, St. Martin has declared for us."
There are moments in our lives, when the chance-word of a madman or a
fool is sufficient to cause our misery; and such was the present state
of Euthanasia's mind. She hastily retreated to solitude, and in earnest
thought tried to overcome the effect of the conscience-stricken wound
which the Albinois had inflicted. We are distrustful of ourselves; so
little do we depend upon our human reason, that on the eve of any
action, even the most praise-worthy, it will sometimes assume another
semblance, and that will appear selfish wilfulness, or at best a
distorted freak of the imagination, which, when we first contemplated
it, seemed the highest effort of human virtue. It had appeared to
Euthanasia her first duty to resist the incroachments of Castruccio, and
to preserve the independence of her subjects. Now again she paused, and
thought that all the shows this world presents were dearly bought at the
price of one drop of human blood. She doubted the purity of her own
motives; she doubted the justification which even now she was called
upon to make at the tribunal of her conscience, and hereafter before
that of her God; she stop, and shivered on the brink of her purpose, as
a mighty fragment of rock will pause shaking at the edge of a precipice,
and then fall to the darkness that must receive it.
"The earth is a wide sea," she cried, "and we its passing bubbles; it is
a changeful heaven, and we its smallest and swiftest driven vapours; all
changes, all passes--nothing is stable, nothing for one moment the same.
But, if it be so, oh my God! if in Eternity all the years that man has
numbered on this green earth be but a point, and we but the minutest
speck in the great whole, why is the present moment every thing to us?
Why do our minds, grasping all, feel as if eternity and immeasurable
space were kernelled up in one instantaneous sensation? We look back to
times past, and we mass them together, and say in such a year such and
such events took place, such wars occupied that year, and during the
next there was peace. Yet each year was then divided into weeks, days,
minutes, and slow-moving seconds, during which there were human minds to
note and distinguish them, as now. We think of a small motion of the
dial as of an eternity; yet ages have past, and they are but hours; the
present moment will soon be only a memory, an unseen atom in the night
of by-gone time. A hundred years hence, and young and old we shall all
be gathered to the dust, and I shall no longer feel the coil that is at
work in my heart, or any longer struggle within the inextricable bonds
of fate. I know this; but yet this moment, this point of time, during
which the sun makes but one round amidst the many millions it has made,
and the many millions it will make, this moment is all to me. Most
willingly, nay, most earnestly, do I pray that I may die this night, and
that all contention may cease with the beatings of my heart. Yet, if I
live, shall I submit? Is all that we prize but a shadow? Are tyranny,
and cruelty, and liberty, and virtue only names? Or, are they not rather
the misery or joy, that makes our hearts the abode of storms, or as a
smiling, flower-covered isle? Oh! I will no longer question my purpose,
or waver where necessity ought to inspire me with courage. One heart is
too weak to contain so overwhelming a contention."
While her melancholy thoughts thus wandered, and she seemed to range in
idea through the whole universe, yet no where found repose, it was
announced to her that Bondelmonti and his soldiers had arrived, and that
the chief desired to see her. There was something in the name of
Bondelmonti that struck a favourable chord in her heart; he had been her
father's friend; he was her guardian, and, although she had sometimes
run counter to his advice, yet she always felt most happy when his
opinion coincided with hers. His presence thus announced seemed to
cancel half her care; she collected all the courage she possessed, and
that was a mighty store, and descended, even smiling, to the hall; her
cares and regrets were leashed like dogs by the huntsmen, but they
neither bayed nor yelled, but cowered in silence. Bondelmonti was struck
by the serenity of her aspect; and his countenance changed from the
doubt it had before expressed, to a frank and gallant address.
"Madonna," said he, "the work we undertake is difficult; Castruccio
keeps our army in check, and guards the passes; and the fifty men that I
bring you, is all out of three hundred that could pass the Serchio. Have
good heart however, your castle walls are strong and will resist all the
stones with which their _battifolle_[9] can batter it, if indeed they
can scale the rock, which we must make as impracticable as we can. But
this is not fitting work for you, fair countess; do you retire to rest;
I would indeed that we could place you in safety in Florence out of all
danger, where you would not be able to hear the clash of arms that
to-morrow will resound in this castle. But I know that you have courage;
and I now see all the calm fortitude of your father shine in your clear
eyes; you are a good girl, Euthanasia, a good and a wise girl, and be
assured that every drop of blood that warms my heart, every faculty of
my body or my mind, are devoted to your cause."
Euthanasia thanked him in the warm language her feeling heart dictated,
and he continued; "I should have much to say to you, much encouragement
from your friends and messages of praise and affection; but my time is
short: believe then in one word, that all your Florentine friends love,
approve and admire you; and if you fall, which this good sword forbid,
we shall at least have this consolation, that our long absent Euthanasia
will reappear among us. But now to the works of war; I will apply to
your seneschal to know what food you have in the castle, and what
possibilities there are of increasing your stock; and your principal
officers shall shew me your works of defence, that I may concert with
them the plan for to-morrow's combat."
Euthanasia however undertook this task herself: she was too much
agitated, not to find some relief in the shew of composure which she
preserved with Bondelmonti, and in the exertion of explaining and
pointing out the various modes of defence which she had adopted, in
addition to those with which nature had furnished her habitation. The
castle was built, as I have before said, on the projecting platform of a
precipitous mountain: the wall of the edifice itself was thick and
strong; and but a small way removed from it was a lower wall, built with
corner towers and battlements, which at once defended the main building,
and sheltered the besieged, who could shower stones and arrows on the
assailants from the port-holes, and be in no danger of retaliation.
Before the gate of the castle was a green plot, about fifteen paces
across, planted with a few cork and ilex trees, and surrounded by a
barbican or low wall built on the edge of the precipice, which, high,
bare, and inaccessible, hung over the plain below. Between the wall and
the barbican, a path ran round one side of the castle, which was
terminated by massy gates and a portcullis; and it was there that,
crossing the chasm which insulated the castle, by means of a drawbridge,
you found the path that conducted to the plain. This path was defended
by various works; palisades, wooden towers to shelter archers, and more
by nature herself, for the rock and the trees were all so many asylums
whence the defenders could uninjured prevent the approach of an enemy.
"This is all excellent," said Bondelmonti; "it is impossible that all
the armies of Italy could force this pass, though it were defended only
by a handful. But, Madonna, is there no other entrance to your castle?
Is there no postern with a path up or down the mountain, whose secret
your enemies may learn, and thus attack you unawares?"
"None; the only postern is that which opens on a path conducting to a
small fountain about a hundred paces up the acclivity; but there it
stops, and the rock rising precipitously behind forbids approach."
"It is well. I will now review your soldiers, appoint their various
posts, and see that mine are refreshed; then, cousin, having tasted your
wine, I will go to rest, that I may awake betimes to-morrow. I am
resolved that all shall go well; Castruccio will be defeated; and you
shall ever be, as you deserve, the castellana of Valperga."
The tables were spread in the great hall of the castle, and heaped with
wine and food. After Euthanasia had seen every want of her guests
supplied, she retired to her own room at the eastern angle of the
castle, one window of which overlooked the whole plain of Lucca; and she
sat near this window, unable to rest or sleep, in that breathless and
feverish state, in which we expect a coming, but uncertain danger.
The veil of night was at length withdrawn; first Euthanasia saw the
stars wax faint, and then the western sky caught a crimson tinge from
the opposing sun. It was long ere he climbed the eastern hill; but his
rays fell upon the opposite mountains, and the windows of the castle of
Valperga shone dazzlingly bright. A _reveillée_ was sounded in the
court below, and roused the young countess from her waking dreams, to
the reality that yawned as a gulph before her. First, she composed her
dress, and bound the wandering locks of her hair round her head; then
for a moment she stood, her hands folded on her bosom, her eyes cast up
to heaven. At first her countenance expressed pain: but it changed; her
pale cheek began to glow, her brow became clear from the cloud that had
dimmed it, her eyes grew brighter, and her whole form gained dignity and
firmness. "I do my duty," she thought, "and in that dear belief do I
place my strength; I do my duty towards myself, towards my peasants,
towards Castruccio, from whose hands I detain only the power of doing
greater ill; God is my help, and I fear not."
Thinking and feeling thus, she descended to the hall of the castle; most
of the soldiers had gone to their posts; but Bondelmonti, and some of
those of higher rank in her party and household, were waiting her
appearance. She entered not gaily, but serenely; and her beauty, the
courage painted on her face, and her thrilling tone as she bade them
good morrow, inspired them with a simultaneous emotion, which they
almost expressed, and midway checked their voices. Bondelmonti kissed
her hand; "Farewel, my friends," she said; "you risk your lives for me,
and the sacrifice of mine were a poor recompense; my honour, my every
hope rests upon your swords; they are wielded by those who love me, and
I do not fear the result."
Bondelmonti addressed himself to the combat, ordered the men to their
posts, and took his own station on the drawbridge of the castle. The
winding path which led to the foot of the mountain, was lined with
archers and slingers, who were hid behind the projecting rocks or trees,
or within small wooden towers, erected for the purpose. A chosen band
armed with long spears was stationed in firm array at the most
precipitous part of the path, who, drawn up in close rank, and advancing
their arms, formed an outwork of iron spikes, impossible to be passed or
driven back. The foremost in the combat were the dependents of
Euthanasia; they were full of that loud, but undisciplined courage which
anger and fear inspire; Bindo was among them, and he harangued them,
saying, that every sign in the heavens, and every power of air, was
propitious to their mistress; at other times they had derided his
superstition; but now it acted as another incentive to their
indignation, and supporter for their courage.
In the mean time Euthanasia had retired to the apartment of Lauretta.
This unfortunate lady had remained in the castle since the death of her
husband; and such was the agony of grief she endured, that Euthanasia
had not communicated to her the threats of Castruccio, and the
approaching siege. The noise of arms, and the sound of many voices
alarmed her; and she wildly asked the cause. Her friend related to her
the events of the few last days, and endeavoured to calm her; Lauretta
listened in fear; she had suffered so much by the like contentions, that
every thing presented itself to her in the gloomiest point of view.
Grasping the countess's hand, she intreated her to submit; "You know not
what a siege is," she cried; "my father's castle was stormed, and
therefore I well know. Even if Castruccio were at the head of his
troops, he would in vain endeavour to restrain their fury; a triumphant
soldier is worse than the buffalo of the forest, and no humanity can
check his thirst for blood and outrage; they will conquer, and neither
God nor man can save us."
Euthanasia tried to soothe her; but in vain. She wept bitterly, and
prayed so earnestly that the countess would spare them both the utter
misery they would endure, that Euthanasia was for a moment startled by
her adjurations; but then, recalling her thoughts, she replied with
gentle firmness, and bade her lay aside her fears which were unfounded,
for there was nothing to dread save an easy imprisonment, if they should
be overcome.
And now, as they were talking thus, a messenger came from Bondelmonti.
"The general desires you to have good heart," he said; "the troops of
the enemy advance; and, if we may judge by their appearance, they are
few, and even those few the refuse of the prince's army."
Euthanasia listened incredulously; for she knew that however doubtful
the decision of the combat might be, the contention must be fierce. Soon
the war-cry arose from without the castle, and was echoed from the walls
and mountains; when it ceased, it was answered by the Ghibeline cry from
the assailants. But this only proved the truth of Bondelmonti's
assertion, that they were few, and of no note; for the shout was not
that exhilarating sound, that echoes the soul's triumph, and, borne
along the line, raises responsive ardour in every breast; it was loud,
but soon died away.
Wearied by the childish remonstrances of Lauretta, Euthanasia descended
to the platform of the castle, and leaned over the barbican; but she
could see nothing, though her ears were stunned by the cries, and clash
of arms, that rose from the valley. Returning to the inner court, she
met some men who were bearing the wounded from the field, and bringing
them for succour to the castle; for a moment her heart sunk within her,
for a moment she was pierced with grief, as she thought--"This is my
work!" But she recovered herself--"It must all be endured," said she; "I
have undertaken a part, and will not faint on the threshold. Spirit of
my father, aid me!"
Beds had been prepared in a large apartment of the castle, and
Euthanasia mingled with the women who ministered to the wounded; she
bound them with her own hands, cheered them with her voice, and
endeavoured, by supporting their minds, to alleviate the sense of bodily
pain. The men, who saw her flitting like an angel about them, aiding and
ministering to their wants, felt all the love and gratitude that such
unwonted, but gracious kindness might inspire. "Fear not, lady," they
said; "we are even more numerous than those who attack us; already they
are tired, and out of breath; fear not, the day is ours."
A messenger also came from Bondelmonti, to say, that the imprudence of
an under-officer had caused the few to fall who had fallen, but that her
troops were now all sheltered, and, that without the loss of a man they
would either destroy all the assailants, or drive them down the steep;
and this assertion appeared confirmed, since no more wounded were
brought in. Thus reassured, Euthanasia left the hall, and ascended to
her own apartment; her spirit was lightened of much of its burthen; the
first barrier had been passed; and she feared not, she would not fear,
the rest.
As she thought this, a sudden scream echoed through the castle; for a
moment she was transfixed; the scream was repeated, louder and nearer,
and she hastened to the window that overlooked the outer court. Thence
she saw a party of soldiers in the Lucchese uniform issue from the gate,
and run round the castle towards the drawbridge; as they came out in
file she thought their numbers would never end, and she recognized
several of the officers as those of the highest rank in Castruccio's
army; the last at length disappeared, and she looked around for an
explanation. The castle was silent; she stood alone in the room; and
even the echo of footsteps reached her not: she paused a moment; and
then, weary of further doubt, she hastened to the room of Lauretta, and
found it full of soldiers,--the enemy's soldiers; while the poor girl,
pale and trembling, sat bewildered and silent. Euthanasia entered from a
small door, leading from a private staircase: her first words were
addressed to her friend; "Fear not," she cried; "we are betrayed; but
fear not."
The soldiers, seeing her appear, had sent for their chief officer, who
came forward, saying, "The castle is ours; and, Madonna, it were well
that you ordered your people to yield; for further resistance would be
useless, and could only cause more bloodshed: we are commanded by our
general to act with the greatest moderation."
"It is enough," replied Euthanasia, quietly; "the commander will judge
of the necessity of submission: but see, you frighten this lady, who is
ill and delicate. I beseech you to leave this room awhile; if I find
that indeed no further resistance can be made, I shall soon be prepared
to obey what orders you may bring."
"Madonna, we withdraw as you desire: but permit me to add, that it is
the general's orders that we escort you to Lucca this evening: until
then we shall not intrude upon you."
The soldiers quitted the room; and Euthanasia, leaving Lauretta with her
servant, retired to her own apartment. Here she found several of her
attendants, who told with many tears that there was no longer any hope;
that the enemy, entering at the postern, had attacked her soldiers from
behind, and driven them down the mountain, and that the party left in
the castle having raised the drawbridge, were now in undisturbed
possession. Euthanasia heard all this with an unaltered mien, and, when
the melancholy tale was finished, she bade them leave her, and go to the
commanding officer of the troop to receive orders for their further
proceeding, but not to return to her, until she should command their
attendance.
[Footnote 9: _Battifolle_, or _balestri_, machines for casting
stones.]