CHAPTER XLIII. THE COMBAT
The morning of the 1st of May was dawning over the top of the Ciminianwood, now called Monte di Viterbo, when twelve persons, wrapped in theircloaks, traversed the steep road which crosses it, and disappeared amongthe trees. They proceeded in silence till they reached an eminence whichoverlooked a part of the wood, when Attilio, addressing the Italians,said, "Here, in this forest, the last advocates of Etruscan independencesought refuge, beaten and pursued by our fathers, the Romans; and here,in one of the last battles, they disappeared from among the Italiantribes--the most ancient, the most famous, and the most gifted people ofthe peninsula." Captain Foulard, who understood Italian sufficientlyto comprehend Attilo's speech, and to whom it was indirectly addressed,replied, "I fancy it was here, or hereabouts, too, that my ancestors,the Gauls, fought those famous battles with your Roman forefathers, whowould have disappeared from the face of the earth had it not been forthe hissing of their geese."
Attilio, though incensed, answered calmly, "When your forefathers crepton all fours in the forests of Gaul, our ancestors dragged them out, andmade them stand upon their legs, saying, 'Be human creatures.' Yourmodern politeness shows but little gratitude to your former civilizers.But we came here not to dispute, but to fight." The place at which theyhad just arrived was one of those pleasant glades, devoid of trees,which Nature often hides in the heart of an Italian forest, and whichshe adorns prodigally with lavish though concealed beauties. Thattranquil and enchanting spot was, however, now to become the scene offury and of bloodshed, for, the position being chosen, and the fifteenpaces measured, the six seconds retired, after exchanging a few wordswith their respective companions.
The adversaries were standing ready to rush upon each other. The firstand second signals had been given, and six angry hearts were impatientlyawaiting the third, when a trumpet was heard sounding the advance, andimmediately there appeared in sight, marching along the road by whichthe opponents had come, a company of the Pope's foreign soldiers,followed, by the delegate Sempronio, and a few of his subordinates.
And here we must in justice confess that the officers, thoughmercenaries, were much mortified by this occurrence, and almost on thepoint of defending their adversaries, and of helping them to escape,when the command was given by the delegate to the troops to surround theItalians with fixed bayonets.
To ordinary persons such an order would have sounded like the knell ofall hope, and a hasty flight, if flight had yet seemed possible, wouldhave been the one remaining idea; but our Romans were men to sustainany shock or peril, however abrupt, without losing in the least theirpresence of mind. At the first sound of the trumpet they cast theireyes on their antagonists, and saw with satisfaction, by their unfeignedsurprise, that those gentlemen had no previous knowledge of theapproaching cowardly attack, and then, facing their assailants, theyretired without haste, revolver in hand, towards the forest.
The troops, perceiving with wonder, upon their arrival, that some oftheir own officers were among the persons they had been directed toarrest, paused for a moment, uncertain how to act. Sempronio, who hadcautiously placed himself behind them, seeing the untoward result ofwhat he had been pleased to term his plan of battle, became furious, andshouted loudly, "Fire--fire on that side! on that side!" pointing tohis own countrymen for whose blood he thirsted, as they slowly retiredtowards the cover, which having gained, they turned and faced thetroops.
The soldiers still paused, but the delegate's nearest associates firedimmediately upon the six Italians, and, although screened by the wood,two of the seconds were slightly hit. Attilio's revolver speedilyavenged his wounded companions. His shot had the fortune to passdirectly through the nose of Father Sempronio (for he was a priestdisguised as an agent), carrying away the bridge of it.
It was a stroke of luck indeed. Sempronio's cries and terriblelamentations aroused more contempt than pity, for the latter is rarelyexpended upon creatures of his despicable character. Roaring andbleeding, the priest-delegate took to his heels, and ran back toViterbo, leaving to the others the execution of his "plan of battle."
The foreign officers were nearly all ashamed of the ugly position inwhich they were placed, though the delegate, and not they, had plannedthe surprise. The discovery of their names had been made by a spy, andthe excited Sempronio had trusted in this easy manner to secure a batchof proscribed Italians, and carry them prisoners to Rome, in hopes ofhelping himself towards a cardinal's hat.
Sempronio had men like himself among his force, less scrupulous than thesix duellists, especially a certain Captain Tortiglio, the commander ofthe company, another cold-blooded Carlist, who thought it would be aneasy matter to get to the end of it by capturing the proscribed, as theywere so few in number. He accordingly resolved to follow them into theforest.
Our friends, having prayed the wounded to escape deeper into thethicket, still fronted their enemies as long as they had any shots left,and for a time, being protected by the trees, they managed to hold theirassailants at bay. But when their ammunition was nearly gone they wereobliged to retire before the soldiers, who were urged on by theCaptain's "Voto a Dios," and, "Carambas," as he followed, swearing hewould capture "these scoundrels," whose arrest, doubtless, would bringhim no small reward from the Papal Government.
Fortunately, Orazio had with him his inseparable horn, and drawing itforth, he blew the same blast which was heard on his arrival at theCastle of Lucullus. No sooner had the echo died away, than a sound as ofmany steps was heard.
The footsteps were those of the companions of Orazio--a portion ofthe three hundred who had re-united in the Ciminian forest, after theoccurrences at Rome already described. They had been awaiting the returnto the rendezvous of their leaders, who had been absent a few days inViterbo, upon important business.
But who are they who precede the band, appearing so opportunely on thescene of action? Who are these graceful commanders? None other thanClelia and Irene, like the Amazons of old, and at their side is theintrepid Jack, burning to "do his duty" and be of use in such beautifulcompany.
The proscribed, at this welcome accession of strength, did notdischarge a single shot, but, fixing their bayonets, charged the foreignmercenaries, with the cry of "Viva l'Italia!" and dispersed them as thetorrent disperses twigs and leaves in its headlong course. The soldiers,terrified at the sudden increase of numbers on the side of the enemy,and by the furious onset, turned and fled at full speed, regardless ofthe threats of their officers, and even the slashes made at them withsabres.
Captain Tortiglio, who was not wanting in courage, had rushed in advanceof his men, and now stood all alone. He was very much mortified, butdisdained to run away. Attilio was the first to come up to him, andsummoned him to surrender.
"No," cried Tortiglio, "I will not surrender."
Attilio, wrapping his cloak around his left arm, put aside the captain'ssword, as he dealt a savage blow at him, and sprang upon him, holdinghis poniard in his right hand. The Spaniard was small of stature, yetvery agile in his movements. He struggled for some time, but the youngsculptor finally lifted him by main force from the ground, and, provokedby the resistance of the manikin, yet not wishing to kill him, gave himan overturn upon the ground, as a cook serves a pancake. Happily forTortiglio the soil was covered with turf, or not all the science ofAEsclulapius would have sufficed to re-set his broken bones.
The proscribed pursued the soldiers only to the farther edge of themeadow, where they contented themselves with a few parting shots, andthen turned their attention to the wounded of both sides. Those ofthe enemy they sent to Viterbo, under the escort of the prisoners, anddispatched their own to the interior of the wood, but retained CaptainTortiglio a little while, more as a hostage than a prisoner. Clelia andIrene were praised and complimented by all for their promptitude andcourage. Muzio, after kissing their hands, made them a little speech ofvictory: "It becomes you well, brave and worthy daughters of Rome," hesaid, "to set such an example to our companions, but more especiall
yto the slothful among Italy's sons, who appear to expect the manna offreedom to fall from heaven, and basely await their country's liberationat the hand of the foreigner. They are not ashamed to kiss the rod ofa foreign tyrant, patron, and master; to renounce their own Rome--thenatural and legitimate metropolis of Italy--voted the capital byparliament, and desired by the whole nation. They are not ashamed to lether remain a den of priests, of creatures who are the scourge and theshame of humanity. To women! yes, to women, is descended the task ofextirpating this infamy, since men are afraid or incapable of doing it."
Muzio at this point in his vehement oration in honor of the fair sex,was suddenly struck dumb by the apparition of another representativeof it in the form of a lovely woman, with the face and carriage, ashe afterwards said, of an angel of heaven, who appeared to him to havefallen from the clouds, and was standing before him on the road leadingto Viterbo. His eloquence vanished, and he remained motionless as astatue, although the very silence of the youth showed that he recognizedher to be the adored queen of his heart, English Julia.
Muzio's embarrassment was the less noticed because of Jack's headlongdemonstration, for the sailor, with a hitch at his waistband, sprangforward towards his beautiful mistress, throwing at the same time evenhis precious carbine on the ground, which he never would have abandonedunder any other circumstances for all the surprises in the universe.When he at last reached Julia, he nearly plucked his forelock out by theroot, so perpetually and persistently did he twitch at it, saluting theEnglish lady. Poor fellow! a thousand affections and remembrances offamily, friends, and country were centred for him in the person ofthat beloved mistress. Julia took the English boy's hand gracefullyand kindly, and Clelia and Silvia embraced her with transports offriendship, and then presented her to Irene, whose romantic history hadbeen repeated to her, and whom she had much desired to know personally.
Even the followers of Orazio forgot for a moment their discipline, andcrowded around this charming daughter of Albion, gazing at her withlooks of undisguised admiration. Woman as she was, Julia could not butfeel a thrill of pride and pleasure at the homage of these bold andhonest children of Italy.
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