Valperga (61 page)

Euthanasia, being now separated from her former connections, and
from him who had been the evil genius of the scene, began to resume
her wonted tone. The eternal spirit of the universe seemed to
descend upon her, and she drank in breathlessly the sensation,
which the silent night, the starry heavens, and the sleeping earth
bestowed upon her. All seemed so peaceful, that no unwelcome
sensation in her own heart could disturb the scene of which she
felt herself a part. She looked up, and exclaimed in her own
beautiful Italian, whose soft accents and expressive phrases then
so much transcended all other European languages--"What a
brave canopy has this earth, and how graciously does the supreme
empyrean smile upon its nursling!"

"E Bellissimo," replied her guide, "ma
figurcisci, Madonna, se è tanto bello sul rovescio, cosa mai sarà
al dritto."

Euthanasia smiled at the fancy of one so uncouth in manners and
habits of life; and she replied,--"Who knows how soon it may
be my destiny to see that other side, which you imagine outdoes
this sublime spectacle in splendour?"

"Heaven preserve you long upon earth," replied the
man; "and make you as happy as you deserve, as happy as you
have made others!"

"Do you know me then?"

"I dwell in the village of Valperga. I and my family have
been Aldiani there, since the time of the old count Goffredo, your
great- grandfather. But, Madonna, please you to put spur to your
horse; for we have little time, and I fear that before long the
heavens will be overclouded; that last puff had something of the
scirocco in it, and I see a mist in the west that foretells wind
from that quarter."

They put their horses to the gallop. Euthanasia's was a
noble steed, and bore her proudly on. She felt her spirits rise
with the exhilarating motion; the wind gathered from the west, and
scattered her hair, which, as she quitted her prison, she had
slightly bound with a handkerchief; and, as she faced the breeze,
its warm breath brought the lagging blood to her cheeks.

They approached the sea, and began to hear its roar; the breeze
became stronger as they drew near. The beach was flat, and the
small line of sand that bordered the waters, was now beaten upon,
and covered by the waves. As they came near, Euthanasia felt some
curiosity to know her destination; but she saw nothing but the dim
weed-grown field, and the white breakers of the troubled ocean. It
was not until they were close upon the sand, that she discerned a
large black boat drawn up on the beach, and several men near it.
One of them came up, and asked the word, which the countryman gave;
and then a man, who had the appearance of a leader, came from the
boat, and welcomed Euthanasia.-- "I am commanded," he
said, "by the prince of Lucca to receive you, lady."

"And whither am I to go?"

He pointed to a vessel which rode hard by,--so near, that she
wondered she had not seen it before. Its black hulk cast a deep
shade upon the waters; and the dim sails, increased to an
extraordinary size by the darkness, flapped heavily. She looked
upon it with surprise, and wondered whither it was to bear her; but
she asked no more questions: addressing herself for her departure,
she took a kind leave of the countryman, and gave him the little
gold that she had with her. The man turned to the chief, and
said,--"Sir Knight, if it be not thought impertinent, have the
courtesy to inform me wither that vessel is bound."

The man looked at him somewhat haughtily: but replied--"To
Sicily." Sicily was then under the rule of the family of the
kings of Arragon, who inherited from the daughter of Manfred, and
were of course Ghibelines.

"The Virgin Mother bless your voyage!" said her guide
to Euthanasia.-- "I am afraid that it will be rough, for an
ugly wind is rising: but the saints will surely guard
you."

Euthanasia stepped into the boat; its commander sat beside her;
and the men took their oars: she waved her hand to her guide,
saying, "Farewell, may God bless you!" she added in a low
tone, half to herself--"They speak Italian also in
Sicily."

These were the last words she ever spoke to any one who returned
to tell the tale. The countryman stood upon the beach;--he saw the
boat moor beside the vessel; he saw its crew ascend the dark sides.
The boat was drawn up; the sails were set; and they bore out to
sea, receding slowly with many tacks, for the wind was
contrary;--the vessel faded on the sight; and he turned about, and
speeded to Lucca.

The wind changed to a more northerly direction during the night;
and the land-breeze of the morning filled their sails, so that,
although slowly, they dropped down southward. About noon they met a
Pisan vessel, who bade them beware of a Genoese squadron, which was
cruising off Corsica: so they bore in nearer to the shore. At
sunset that day a fierce scirocco rose, accompanied by thunder and
lightning, such as is seldom seen during the winter season.
Presently they saw huge, dark columns, descending from heaven, and
meeting the sea, which boiled beneath; they were borne on by the
storm, and scattered by the wind. The rain came down in sheets; and
the hail clattered, as it fell to its grave in the ocean;--the
ocean was lashed into such waves, that, many miles inland, during
the pauses of the wind, the hoarse and constant murmurs of the
far-off sea made the well-housed landsman mutter one more prayer
for those exposed to its fury.

Such was the storm, as it was seen from shore. Nothing more was
ever known of the Sicilian vessel which bore Euthanasia. It never
reached its destined port, nor were any of those on board ever
after seen. The sentinels who watched near Vado, a tower on the sea
beach of the Maremma, found on the following day, that the waves
had washed on shore some of the wrecks of a vessel; they picked up
a few planks and a broken mast, round which, tangled with some of
its cordage, was a white silk handkerchief, such a one as had bound
the tresses of Euthanasia the night that she had embarked, and in
its knot were a few golden hairs.

She was never heard of more; even her name perished. She slept
in the oozy cavern of the ocean; the sea-weed was tangled with her
shining hair; and the spirits of the deep wondered that the earth
had trusted so lovely a creature to the barren bosom of the sea,
which, as an evil step-mother, deceives and betrays all committed
to her care.

Earth felt no change when she died; and men forgot her. Yet a
lovelier spirit never ceased to breathe, nor was a lovelier form
ever destroyed amidst the many it brings forth. Endless tears might
well have been shed at her loss; yet for her none wept, save the
piteous skies, which deplored the mischief they had themselves
committed;--none moaned except the sea-birds that flapped their
heavy wings above the ocean- cave wherein she lay;--and the
muttering thunder alone tolled her passing bell, as she quitted a
life, which for her had been replete with change and sorrow.
CONCLUSION THE private chronicles, from which the foregoing
relation has been collected, end with the death of Euthanasia. It
is therefore in public histories alone that we find an account of
the last years of the life of Castruccio. We can know nothing of
his grief, when he found that she whom he had once tenderly loved,
and whom he had ever revered as the best and wisest among his
friends, had died. We know however that, during the two years that
he survived this event, his glory and power arose not only higher
than they had ever before done, but that they surpassed those of
any former Italian prince.

Louis of Bavaria, king of the Romans, entered Italy in the month
of February 1327. He found Castruccio, the scourge of the Guelphs,
the first power of Tuscany, and the principal supporter of his own
titles and pretensions.

Louis of Bavaria was crowned with the iron crown at Milan. But
his proceedings were tyrannical and imprudent. He deprived Galeazzo
Visconti of his power, imprisoned him, and set up the shadow of a
republic at Milan, which was in fact composed of a few Ghibeline
nobles, who by their jealousies and dissentions served only to
weaken his power.

He marched through Lombardy, crossed the Apennines at Parma, and
was met by Castruccio at Pontremoli. The prince, whose chief aim
was to ingratiate himself with, and to raise himself to power
through the favour of, the emperor, made his visit more agreeable
through the magnificent presents by which he was accompanied; and
his sagacity, warlike spirit, and agreeable manners gained for him
an easy entrance into the councils, and afterwards into the
friendship, of Louis. They proceeded together to Pisa. The Pisans
at first refused entrance to the emperor, but yielded after he had
besieged them a few days. Louis then visited Lucca, where he
erected a duchy composed of the towns and territory of Lucca,
Pistoia, Volterra and Lunigiana, and created Castruccio duke,
honouring and exalting him as his best friend, and the firmest
support of the imperial power.

They went to Rome together, where the emperor knighted him, and
he bore the sword of state in the procession from the Campidoglio
to St. Peter's, where Louis received the imperial crown. He was
created count of the palace, senator of Rome, and master of the
court. He had arrived at the summit of his glory; he was more
feared and obeyed than the emperor himself; and, in the expedition
which Louis meditated against Naples, king Robert dreaded
Castruccio alone, as his most formidable and craftiest enemy. It
was then, that the proud Antelminelli invested himself in a robe of
silk richly adorned with gold and jewels; and on the breast were
embroidered these words--Egli è come dio vuole. And on the
shoulders, si sara quel che dio vorrà.

While he was thus enjoying the maturity of his glory, and
partaking all the amusements and feasts of the capital of Italy, he
received intelligence that the Florentines had possessed themselves
of Lucca. Without a moment's delay, he quitted Rome, traversed
the Maremma with a small band of friends, and appeared, when he was
least expected, in the midst of his enemies.

It was here that he again met Galeazzo Visconti. At
Castruccio's request the emperor had released him from prison;
and he came to serve under the ensigns of his more fortunate
friend. Their meeting was an occasion of mutual joy; they embraced
each other affectionately, and confirmed and renewed the vows of
friendship and support which they had entered into more than ten
years before. Castruccio enjoyed for a short time the unalloyed
pleasure which the society of his friend afforded him; they
recounted to each other their various fortunes; and, in recording
the events which had passed since their separation, Galeazzo found,
that, if he had lost sovereignty and power, Castruccio had lost
that which might be considered far more valuable; he had lost his
dearest friends; and on his pale cheek might be read, that,
although he disdained to acknowledge the power of fortune, she had
made him feel in his heart's core her poisoned shafts. We know
nothing of the private communion of these friends; but we may guess
that, if Castruccio revealed the sorrows of his heart, Galeazzo
might have regretted that, instead of having instigated the
ambition, and destroyed the domestic felicity of his friend, he had
not taught him other lessons, through which he might have enjoyed
that peace, sympathy and happiness, of which he was now for ever
deprived.

His presence restored the state of his affairs. He possessed
himself of Pisa, recovered Pistoia, and again returned in triumph
to Lucca. But this was the term of his victories. During the siege
of Pistoia he had tasked his strength beyond human suffering; he
was ever in the trenches on horseback, or on foot exposed to the
hot sun of July, encouraging the soldiers, directing the pioneers,
and often, in the ardour of impatience, he himself took the spade,
and worked among them. He neither rested nor slept; and the heats
of noon-day, and the dews of night alike fell upon him. Immediately
on his return to his native city, he was seized with a malignant
fever. He knew that he was about to die; and, with that coolness
and presence of mind which was his peculiar characteristic, he made
every arrangement necessary for the welfare of Lucca, and gave
particular directions to his captains for the prosecution of the
war. But he felt, that he left behind him no fitting successor; and
that, if he were the sole creator and only support of the Lucchese,
so they would fall into their primitive insignificance when he
expired. Lying thus on the bed of pain, and conscious that in a few
hours he must surely die, he grasped the hand of Vanni
Mordecastelli, who wept beside him, saying Io morrò, e vedrete il
mondo per varie turbolenze confondersi, e rivoltarsi ogni cosa.
This consideration cast a gloom over his last moments; yet he
supported himself with courage.

Galeazzo Visconti had assisted Castruccio in all his labours,
exposing himself with like imprudence, and labouring with equal
energy. He was attacked at Pistoia with the same fever and the same
symptoms. Hearing that the prince was ill at Lucca, he desired,
although dying, to be conveyed to him. He was carried as far as
Pescia, where he expired on the third of September 1328.

On the same day, and at the same hour, Castruccio died at
Lucca.

His enemies rejoiced in his death; his friends were confounded
and overthrown. They, as the last act of gratitude, conducted the
pomp of his funeral with princely magnificence. He was buried in
the church of San Francesco, then without, now included within, the
walls of Lucca. The ancient tombstone is still seen on the walls of
the church; and its inscription may serve for the moral and
conclusion of this tale.

En vivo vivamque

fama rerum gestarum

Italicæ militiæ splen-

dor; Lucensium