CHAPTER XIX.
From the rejoicing gates of Pisa--set free by the King of France fromthe burdensome yoke of Florence--the royal army took its way to thedaughter of Fiesole. Steadily, though slowly it marched on, andLorenzo Visconti led the van. Oh what thoughts, what struggles offeeling, what various emotions perplexed him when he saw the walls andtowers of Florence rising before him! There his early infancy hadpassed after his father had perished in the successful effort to ridhis country of a tyrant, but only, alas, to give her another. Therehad his youth been protected, his life saved, his education received,his fortunes cared for, his happiest days passed. And now heapproached the cradle of his youth at the head of an invading army.
With his lance upon his thigh and his beaver raised he gazed upon thebeautiful city with apprehension but not without hope. He knew thatFlorence had no power to resist; that her walls were too feeble, hertowers not strong enough to make any successful defence against thetremendous train of artillery which followed the French army. Hetrembled to think of what might be the consequence of one bombardfired from those battlements, one gate closed upon the foe. The scenesof Vivizano returned to his imagination, and he thought he saw theforms of well known friends and early companions exposed to thelicence and brutality of the cruel soldiery.
"I at least come not as an enemy," he thought, "and perchance if it beGod's good will, I may do something in return for all that Florencehas done for me."
He looked anxiously round as he continued his march, but he could seeno signs of resistance. Now his eyes rested upon the calm Arno flowingon, alternately seen and lost; and then he caught a glimpse of theMugnione, and a torrent but now a brook, rushing down from theApennines. Many a winding road caught his eye, but nothing appearedupon them but trains of peasantry seemingly seeking shelter from theapprehended pillage by the light troops of the French army.
Many a time he sent a message back to the king to say that all wasquiet and peaceable; and more than once he fell somewhat into the rearof his party to speak a word or two to some one in a litter, wellguarded, which had followed during the last three days' march. Butstill all remained quiet, and he saw no reason to suppose that therumors which had been current in the French camp had any foundation.Those rumours had imported, that the acts of Pierre de Medici, who hadsought the King of France and humbly submitted to any terms which themonarch's council thought fit to dictate, had been disavowed by theSignoria, Pierre himself obliged to fly in disgrace, and that thecitizens were resolved to defend their homes to the last. It is truethat he had never seen such a number of peasants seeking the citybefore; and he remarked that there were few, if any, women, and nochildren amongst them. But there stood the gates wide open, withnothing but half a dozen armed men at some of the entrances toindicate that it was a fortified place. No order had been given tohalt at any particular spot, and Lorenzo rode on till he was not morethan three hundred yards from the Pisa gate, when a large party of theking's _fouriers_ and harbingers, accompanied by a trumpeter, passedhim at the gallop and rode straight up to the city. The trumpet blew,and admission for the King of France was demanded in a loud tone, whenone of the officers on guard stepped forward and replied, "We have noorders to oppose the king's entrance."
Just at that moment the Cardinal Julian came up on a fine swift mule,followed by numerous cross bearers and attendants, and paused by theside of Lorenzo, saying, "Follow me into the city, my son. I have theking's order to that effect. We will first carry our young charge tothe house of Madonna Francesca, and then both you and I may have somecharitable work on hand to mediate between the monarch and thecitizens."
"But whither does his majesty direct his own steps?" asked Lorenzoeagerly, "how shall we find him?"
"He goes direct to the palace of the Podesta," said the cardinal;"come on--come on, before the crowd of soldiery overtakes us."
The troop moved on and was the first body of regular soldiers to passthe gates. There was some noise and confusion, the _fouriers_, a loudand boisterous body of men, asking many questions of the Florentinesoldiers at the guard-house, to which but sullen answers werereturned; and Lorenzo judged it a point of duty to relieve the Tuscansof the charge of the gate and place a French guard there to ensureagainst anything like treachery. The cardinal coinciding, the changewas soon made without resistance, and the troops passed on into thecity. The day was dark, and the tall fortress-like houses of thestreets looked sad and gloomy, though through the narrow windows ofthe massive walls peered forth a crowd of human faces watching insilence the passage of the French men-at-arms. No smile was upon anycountenance, no look of admiration at the rich surcoats and glitteringarms; but everything bore the same stern and gloomy aspect, andLorenzo remarked that many of the persons he saw were heavily armed.
At length, in the Via Ghibelina, Julian de Rovera stopped his mulebefore a large heavy entrance-gate, and commanded one of hispalfreniers to seek admittance. The whole cavalcade was eyedattentively by more than one person through a small iron-grated windowat the side of the door, and though it was announced to the observersthat no less a person than the Cardinal of St. Peter's soughtadmission to see his cousin, Mona Francesca, he was not permitted toenter till one or two embassies had passed between the wicket and thesaloons above. At length he was suffered to pass into the court withhis own train alone; but Lorenzo and his band, and even Leonora andher women, were kept waiting in the street, subject to the gaze ofmany an eye from the houses round.
The two young lovers did not fail to employ the time of expectation tothe best advantage. It was a painful and somewhat embarrassing moment,and required both consolation and consideration. They were about to beseparated, after having enjoyed unrestrained a period of sweetcompanionship and happy intimacy which falls to the lot of few youngpeople so situated towards each other. Lorenzo leaned into the litterand spoke to her he loved with words little restrained by the presenceof Mona Mariana, of whose kindness and discretion he was by this timewell aware, and whom he had bound to himself for life by a morevaluable present than any one else was at all likely to bestow.
What matters it what he said? It would be strangely uninteresting toothers, though his words caused many an emotion in her to whom theywere addressed, and sprang from many an emotion in his own heart. Hesketched eager plans of future meeting; he proposed schemes forevading the strictness and severity of the lady Francesca, whomneither of them knew; he arranged the means of communication when theking's forward march should prevent the possibility of any personalintercourse.
Vain! vain! as every scheme of man regarding the future. Fate standsbehind the door and laughs while lovers lay their plots. Half theschemes of Lorenzo were needless, and the other half provedimpracticable.
The cardinal detained them but a short time, and when he returnedLorenzo found he had been throwing away stratagems.
"Haste! hand the dear child from her litter," he said, "and both ofyou come with me. Mona Francesca agrees to receive and protect her asher own child, provided you will give her the security of a Frenchguard; for she mightily fears the Swiss and the Gascons. I haveassured her that you will leave twenty men here for the present, andthat I will obtain the consent of King Charles to your being quarteredwith all your troops in the court and the lower story; the men must bequartered somewhere, you know."
"Certainly," replied Lorenzo, with almost too much readiness, "and whynot here--if it be the wish of your Eminence--as well as elsewhere?"
While speaking he advanced to the side of the litter, and aidedLeonora to descend. She was somewhat paler than usual, for the feelingof being in a strange city, occupied suddenly by foreign troops, uponwhom there was no knowing how soon a fierce and active populationmight rise, was more terrible to her than even the sight of actualwar.
Expectation almost always goes beyond reality both in its fears and inits hopes. It is uncertainty which gives its sting to dread. Thecardinal, however, took her by the hand and led her into thecourt-yard, where a few old men and two or three younger,
but perhapsnot more serviceable persons, were assembled in arms, and turningsharp to the right ascended the great staircase to the principalapartments of the palace. A magnificent hall and several large saloonsintervened between the first landing and the smaller cabinet in whichMona Francesca awaited her visitors.
What a different personage presented herself at length to the eyes ofLeonora and Lorenzo from that which either had expected to behold.
The one had pictured her distant cousin as a tall, thin, acerb-lookingMadonna, more fitted for the cloister than the world. The other hadfigured her as a portly commanding dame, to whose behests all were tobow obsequiously. But there sat the future guardian of Leonora, thepicture of good-humoured indolence. The remains of a very beautifulface, a countenance rather sweet than firm, a figure which might haveonce been pretty, but which was now approaching the obese, a prettyfoot stretched out from beneath her dress, with fine hair and teeth,made up almost altogether the sum of Mona Francesca. She had been forten years a virtuous wife. She had been for twelve or thirteen years adiscreet and virtuous widow. She loved her ease and her independencetoo well to risk again matrimony, once tried, and with some feelingsof devotion, and a good deal both of time and money to spare, she hadgained with the clergy and with the religious orders of Florencealmost the character of a saint--by doing nothing either wrong orright.
She welcomed Leonora kindly, and perhaps none the less that she wasaccompanied by a young and handsome cavalier,--for though herweaknesses never deviated into indiscretions, he had a great taste forthe beautiful, and was a true connoisseur of masculine beauty. Shemade Leonora sit beside her, and gave Lorenzo her jewelled hand tokiss, entering with him at once into a conversation which might havebeen long, had not the impatient cardinal interfered.
"Well, well," he exclaimed, "you can talk with him about all thathereafter. You will have plenty of time. At present we must follow theking to the Podesta."
"Stay, stay," cried Mona Francesca. "Do not forget he is to leavetwenty men on guard. Ah! I fear those dreadful Frenchmen terribly!They tell me the widows suffered more than any at Vivizano."
"I doubt it," said the cardinal; but Lorenzo consoled her, by assuringher that twenty men should certainly be left to protect her, withoutadding that they were all those dreadful Frenchmen whom she seemed tofear so much; and then followed the cardinal to the court-yard, wherehis arrangements were soon made. A French ensign was hung out abovethe great gate, a couple of soldiers stationed on guard in the street,and a sufficient force left within to ensure the safety of the placeagainst any body of those licentious stragglers which followed allarmies in those days in even greater numbers than they do at present.
In the meantime the cardinal had ridden on, accompanied by his owntrain; and Lorenzo followed, guiding his men himself through thewell-remembered streets, where so much of his own young life had beenspent. It was not without some uneasiness that he marked the aspect ofthe city. There was many a sign, or rather many an indication thatthough the Florentines had admitted the army of the King of Francewithin their walls, they were prepared to resist even in their ownstreets, any attempt at tyrannical domination. Few persons appearedout of shelter of the houses, and those few were well armed. But themultitudes of faces at the windows, and the glance of steel at everydoor that happened even to be partly open, showed a state ofpreparation equal to the occasion, and the youth, calculating thechances of a struggle between the army and the population of the city,should a conflict arise, could not but come to the conclusion that,shut up in streets and squares of which they knew nothing, surroundedby houses, every one of which was a fortress, and opposed by a bodyvastly more numerous, the French force might find all its militaryskill and discipline unavailing, and have cause to rue the rashconfidence of the king.
Just as he was entering upon that great square, near which arecollected so many inestimable treasures of art, a man fully armed,started forth from a gateway, and laid his hand upon his horse's rein.Lorenzo laid his hand upon his sword; but the other without raisinghis visor, addressed him by name in a stern voice: "I little thoughtto see you here, with a foreign invader, Lorenzo Visconti," he said,"but mark me, and let your king know. Florence will be trodden down byno foreign despot. Let him be moderate in his demands, calm andpeaceful in his demeanour, or he will leave his last man in thesestreets should we all perish in resisting insolence or tyranny. Lookaround you as you go, and you will see that every house is filled withour citizens or peasantry; and though willing to concede much forpeace, we are ready to dare all for liberty. Let this be enoughbetween us. Ride on, and ride fast, for on this very moment hangs adestiny. At the first sound of the bell, a conflict will begin thatwill seal the fate of Italy. Ride on, I say. You know our customs.Take care that the bell does not ring."
"Who are you? What is your name?" asked Lorenzo; but the man made noreply, and retreated under the archway whence he had come.
Winding through the crowds which occupied the Piazza, the young knightand his party overtook the cardinal just as he was dismounting at thegates of the great heavy building, known as the Podesta; and springingto his stirrup, Lorenzo in a whisper communicated to him rapidly thefears he entertained of some sudden and terrible conflict between thecitizens and the French soldiery, should the demands of the king beexcessive or tyrannical.
"It is right his Majesty should know the state of the city," he said;"and if I can obtain speech of him, he shall know it; for no one canjudge of the signs around us better than myself, whose boyhood hasbeen passed in these streets and squares."
"You shall have speech of him," said the cardinal, "follow me quickly.They must be at it already. Where is the king, boy?--where is thecouncil?"
A page whom he addressed led him up the great staircase, and hurryinghis pace, he was soon in that great council chamber where the fate ofFlorence had been so often decided.
The scene it now presented was very striking. The King of France wasseated in a chair of state, with many of his officers and counsellorsaround, and the Bishop of St. Malo standing at his left hand. Beforehim stood a number of the magistrates of Florence, richly robed, andon the faces of all present might be seen a sharp and angryexpression, as if some bitter words had been already passing. The roomwas crowded; but as the cardinal and Lorenzo entered, they could seethe Bishop of St. Malo take a step across the open space between theking and the magistrates, and hand a written paper to one of thelatter, on whose face the very first words brought a heavy frown.
Holding Lorenzo by the hand, Julian de Rovera pushed his way throughthe crowd, murmuring, "God send we be not too late," and at lengthreached the monarch's side, where he bent his head to the king's ear,saying abruptly, "This young man has matter of life and death tocommunicate to you, sire. Listen to him for a moment ere you do aughtelse."
The king raised his eyes to Lorenzo's face, and then inclined his ear,making the young man a sign to speak.
"My lord," said Lorenzo in a whisper, "no one about you knows Florenceas well as I do. You and your army are on the brink of a volcano. Thehouses all around are filled with armed men. Not only are the citizensprepared to rise at a moment's notice, but the town has been crowdedwith the neighbouring peasantry, and although your Majesty is in fullpossession of the town, a conflict in these streets might be moredisastrous than can be told."
"Hark," said the king, "the old man is speaking;" and, raising hishead, he gazed upon the magistrate who had been reading the paper.
"King of France," said the old man, in a fierce and impetuous tone,"these demands are outrageous. They are insulting to the people ofFlorence; and thus I deal with them;" and as he spoke he tore thepaper in pieces and flung the fragments on the floor. "I tell you,sire," he continued, "that nothing like these terms will be granted.Our course is taken; our minds are made up. We were all willing to payyou due respect,--to grant all that might be requisite for yoursecurity, or to assist you for your comfort. But we will not betreated as a conquered people till we are conquered; and, even then
,we will be the slaves of no man. Either propose terms in reason, orelse--why, sound your trumpets and we will toll our bells, and on himwho is the aggressor fall the guilt of all the blood which will dyeour streets."
"Good God! the man is mad," exclaimed one of the king's councillors.
"_M?re de Dieu!_" cried another, "he has had the insolence to tear theedict!"
"We are ready to obey your Majesty's commands," said the sternMontpensier, in a cold tone.
"I go to take orders against an outbreak, sire," said La Tremouille,in a low voice, "it is not to be concealed that we are in a somewhatdangerous position here."
"Sire, you had better get out of the rat-trap," said De Vitry, "I willguard you with my men-at-arms, and keep one gate open for the rest tofollow. My head for your safety; and once out we shall soon bringthese gentlemen to reason."
"Peace," said the king, "peace, my friends. Let me speak.--You havedone wrong, sir, to tear that paper," he continued with an air of muchdignity, addressing the bold old man. "We had not read it ourselves.It was far from our intention to demand any outrageous terms; but onlysuch as a republic might expect who had refused our friendship and setat nought our proffers of alliance. Hastily drawn up by our council,and tendered to you here more as an outline of what might be ourdemands than as what they actually are, the paper may have containedsomething you could not comply with, but nothing to warrant so muchheat, I think. Have you a copy, my Lord Bishop?"
"Here is one, sire," replied the minister, handing him a paper.
The king took it and read it with slowness and evident difficulty."This is too much," he said when he had done, "Signor Pierro Capponihas some show of reason for his anger. My Lord Bishop, these termsmust be mitigated. I will retire to another chamber and leave you withthe magistrates of the city to decide upon some more equitablearrangement, with his Eminence here to moderate between you. What Idemand is that compensation shall be made in gold for the expense anddelay to which I have been subjected by the resistance of strongplaces in a country professing to be friendly to me; and thatsufficient security be given that my return to France, when it pleasesme, shall not be interrupted. Your council had better be held inprivate. There are too many persons present. Let all but my counciland the Signoria of Florence follow me."
Thus saying, he rose and left the hall.
The result is well known. A large sum of money, part of which foundits way into the purses of the king's counsellors, and vague promisesof alliance and security, were all that the Florentines had to pay;and the lesson of the morning was sufficiently impressive to producebetter discipline and forbearance amongst the French troops than theyhad exercised elsewhere.
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