The Battle on the Bosphorus

Chapter I. The Encampment

About five leagues from the once important and flourishing city of Pisa, lies a valley of great beauty and fertility, though of circum scribed extent. The surrounding hills, of moderate height, are rich to their very summits in vegetation. VOL. I B Winding through this valley, ran a clear and placid stream, which, shortly after, became lost in the wider and more classic waters of the Arno. On each side of this stream the pas turage was rich ; and, at the period of our tale, about the middle of the fourteenth century, its whole extent was dotted with the white tents of a very large body of Con dottieri. These tents, however, were not scattered over the valley in picturesque confusion, as might be supposed from the nature and in clination of the reckless bands of mercenaries then spread over the lands of the South ; but, on the contrary, were ranged in perfect order and regularity, round a very large octagon pavilion ; over the summit of which waved the broad banner of St. George of England.

Though after this chapter we have nothing farther to do with the doughty Sir John Hawkwood — whose name was celebrated throughout Italy — we must introduce him THE BOSPHORUS. here. Within the centre pavilion, which was handsomely lined with crimson cloth, its pillars supporting arms and armour, were spread on a table several large, roughly-sketched charts ; and, looking over these, sat the English knight and a young man about twenty-five years of age. This latter cavalier had already given cele brity to the name of Paoli, having achieved extraordinary fame in his heroic defence of his country, Corsica ; and also, during a period of two year3, passed in fighting under the Pisan banner, when he received the honour of being created a Knight of St. Stephen's, — a military order then existing, and admitting only per sonages of high station and renown into their community.

Giacinto Paoli was remarkable for his height, immense strength, and extraordinary skill in the use of all warlike weapons. Singularly graceful in person, and eminently handsome, he won not only admiration by his personal ap- B pearance, but by the generosity and nobleness of his disposition. " Now, Giacinto," said Sir John Hawk wood, laying down his dagger, with which he was tracing a road across a most intricate looking country, roughly sketched on one of the charts, " let me hear your adventures since we parted. I need not say how grieved I was on learning your noble father's fate, and the con quest of your native land by those crafty Genoese ; a conquest they would never have achieved without the aid of France." "In truth, Sir John," replied the young knight, " my adventures have little of interest.

But as the recital will explain to you my reason for seeking service in the Venetian Republic, I will briefly relate them — " My father, you are aware, was betrayed into the hands of the Genoese General, Mas tino Campaldino, one of the most cruel, fero cious, and crafty commanders ever sent by Genoa into Corsica. THB BOSPHORUS. M I was retreating with my cousin, Otho Sampiero, who, you may remember, visited me for a short period at Pisa." "A noble and high-spirited youth, indeed," interposed Sir John. " We were retreating before an overwhelm ing force of Genoese and French," pursued Giacinto, " when news reached us that the strong fortress of Corte had fallen into the hands of the Genoese through treachery ; and that my father, General Paoli, and Cicaldi, and several other brave chiefs had been taken prisoners, and barbarously executed on the walls of the citadel, as traitors and rebels, by order of Mastino Campaldino.

I at once vowed never to sheathe my sword, or quit the island till I accomplished the death of the Genoese General, who had so cruelly put my father to death. " I will not weary you with minute details. The overpowering force of Genoese and French, aided by swarms of vile adventurers, drove us to the mountains for safety. The whole island submitted, after many towns, villages, and castles had been burnt and destroyed, and the inhabitants massacred. " My cousin Otho and myself, with five hundred men, defied, for many months, all the efforts of the Genoese Commander to draw us out of our retreat. I was ardently waiting for an opportunity to avenge my father's death ; and then fly from my unhappy country, which I could no longer defend. " At length my scouts brought me word that Campaldino had left Corte, at the head of more than eight hundred Genoese and French.

He was to be joined by a body of two thousand adventurers, outlaws, and assassins, shipped from the prisons of Genoa, and pardoned on condition of fighting against the Corsicans ; Campaldino having sworn to drive us from our fastnesses, and massacre every man with arms in his hands. " I now resolved to attack the Genoese THE BOSPHORUS. General as he and his force passed through the celebrated gorge of Gravellino — one of the most remarkable defiles in the Island. This singular gorge resembles a deep cut made by art through a mountain of rock; the sides being perpendicular. The pass is nearly a mile in length — the summits of the two sides being covered by gigantic pines. " We reached this pass two days before Mastino. Cutting the immense pines nearly through, we supported them by ropes. Enor mous rocks were loosened by the brave peasantry, who worked day and night.

In fact, a fearful avalanche was prepared to over whelm the Genoese force as it defiled through the gorge. "The day on which I expected to destroy this cruel enemy to Corsica broke clear and bright. Not a breath of wind stirred the leaves of the low shrubs behind which I had posted my men ; while two hundred peasants stood ready with their axes to cut away the ropes that held the mass above. From where my cousin and myself were posted, we could see the entrance of the gorge. A note from my bugle was to be the signal to those above. " As I anxiously fixed my eyes in the direction I expected to see the enemy advance, I heard the clear notes of the French horn break the perfect stillness that reigned around ; and a very few minutes after, we beheld the glitter of arms. Singular enough for a soldier of Campaldino's experience, he led his forces into the gorge of Gravellino without any precaution.

The band in advance was composed of adventurers, who marched without order or banner. After them, came the Genoese General at the head of his well-armed and disciplined soldiers. My squire, Pulini, who knew Campaldino, pointed him out to me amidst the group of officers ; for, as yet, I had never encountered him. He was in complete mail, and rode one of the small Corsican horses. THB BOSPHORUS. " I allowed the Genoese force to enter the pass about half way before I gave the signal from my bugle. The instant tke first note reached the ear of Campaldino, he ordered a halt : the next instant, the fearful avalanche of timber and rock came thundering down the mountain, uprooting vast masses of rock. It appeared as if the sides of the gorge had col lapsed, so terrible was the scene. Hundreds were entombed beneath this awful mass of materials.

In the midst of the horror excited by this unexpected event, we sallied out from our secure retreats on both sides, and fell upon the remnants of Campaldino's force. The Genoese General was himself unhurt, as I purposely allowed him and about three hundred of his men to advance beyond the critical spot. Recovering from his -surprise, he offered a bold front, while those left alive of the adventurers fled wildly through the p?ss. I soon reached the side of Mastino, shouting my name, and my father's wrongs in his ear. Campaldino seemed B THE BAT r LE ON paralysed. Still he strove to defend himself, uttering some words which, in the excitement of the moment, I did not hear ; and in less than five minutes, he lay slain at my feet. Mastino's son, and about two hundred of his followers contrived to escape ; but the adventurers lost nearly half their number.

" After this, my force dispersed ; for, having consulted Gaffieri and other Chiefs, we all agreed that at that time to prolong the contest would only bring greater misery upon Corsica. We therefore agreed to separate and get, as best we could, to the Continent. I then made the best of my way with only twenty men ; and was guided by my attached follower Pulini into the pieve of Orto, my father's pro perty. The mansion was in ruins, the land laid waste, and the town and villages burnt some time back by order of Campaldino. Here, in a secret place, my father had buried the family plate and jewels. Pulini, who is my father's foster-brother, knew the spot. This practice of burying the family property is always resorted to by Corsican lords, in the event of an invasion. Here I separated from my cousin Sampiero, who set out for his own domain, intending to make his way with Gaffieri across to Sardinia, and agreeing, if we were so fortunate as to escape, to meet in Rome.

A short time after our separation, with six followers only, I contr ved, during a dark and stormy night, to cut away a Tartana from the harbour of Mariana ; and the gale blowing from the coast of Corsica, we steered for the Italian shore. Accustomed, from my earliest years, to the sea, and passionately fond of the element, I found no difficulty in conducting my bark to Piombino. There I landed with Pulini, and whatever valuables I had dug up from our buried property. My countrymen then sailed for Sardinia, intending, after a time, to get back to their wives and families. " At this period, I was only two-and-twenty years of age. When I left the city of Pisa six years previously, you were fighting under her banner ; and though then only sixteen, I obtained leave from my father, who was greatly attached to you, to practise arms under your eye ; and to your watchful care and kindness, I owe my skill in them.

I heard, on my arrival, that you were in the Milanese — Pisa was then at war with Florence. During two years that the war lasted, I fought ser her, gained some renown, and became a Knight of St. Stephen's. I then proceeded to Rome ; and, to my infinite joy, heard from his kinsman, the Colonna, that my Cousin Otho had reached Rome in safety. But he was absent, not liking an idle life, and I resolved to follow up a project which my lamented father desired I should undertake, should he fall in the contest with Genoa, and I be forced to fly from the island. "A short time previous to his setting out fur the Citadel of Corte, my father said to me, ' Should it please Providence, my beloved son that I fall, and you are forced to fly your country, I know no better banner under which you can serve, than the Lion of St. Mark.

In my youth I chanced to save, in Florence, the life of a Venetian merchant of great wealth, by name Tiepolo. We were nearly the same age ; a friendship ensued ; and for several months we traversed many parts of Italy together, till he recovered from his wound. We then parted — he to return to Venice, and I to Corsica. He pressed on my finger at parting,' continued my father, 'this valuable and splendid ring, which I now give you, saying at the time — The possessor of this ring may command the fortunes of Tiepolo.'' " Hearing in Rome that Venice was engaged in a fierce war with Genoa, I determined to set out at once for that far-famed city of the waves ; but, having 1 ft my horses and arms at Pisa, I returned here, and was delighted and surprised to learn you had enca;i ped in this valley.

I therefore at once resolved to pay you this visit on my way. " So now, dear Sir John, you know my reason for wishing to serve under the banner of the Venetian republic — the war is against our old and bitter enemies ; and the more they are crippled the better for Cor sica, who may yet make a struggle for her liberty.." " Well, I trust in God she may," said Sir John, heartily; "for I love freedom, and I detest those crafty Genoese. But at all events, I have my doubts about their rivals, the Ve netians. It is a Government I do not admire. 1 hate mystery. However, since your noble father wished you to take service under the ' Winged Lion,' I will not farther press my offer of five hundred free lances. Still, remember that should you get disgusted with the worthy ten Councdlors of St. Mark, and I remain in the laud of the living, they are still at your service."

Giacinto Paoli pressed the hand of the wor thy English Knight, and expressed his thanks warmly. " But now, my dear boy," resumed Sir John, " let me give you a brief outline of the state of this fair land wherein you are about to try your fortunes. No man can have had greater experience of the Italian character, their cus toms and political opinions and factions than myself. Sunk in sloth and luxury, the native princes and rulers have left their possessions at the mercy of numerous predatory bands, under various denominations. There are Black Bands and White bands, Condottieri, Companies of Ad venturtrs,Free Lances, and GermanBarbuti. No matter what may be their names, their objects are the same. We are old rivals ; only, thank God, my brave fellows are widely different from the others, who, when not engaged in war are othing better than robbers; fighting oze day for a certain ruler, and the next daay quite willing to cut his throat, provided they get well paid for it.

So distracted, indeed, is this most unhappy land by dissensions amongst themselves, and devastations committed . by foreign adventurers, that the terrified cultivators of the soil are compelled to live within walled towns. There is not a city in Italy that is not distracted by faction. Not even the great pestilence that swept over the whole face of Europe, cutting off from the earth a third of its population, was able to check this terrible disunion amongst the Princes of Italy. This very disunion, jealousy, and hatred of one another, is the cause of the formidable bauds you will find dispersed over the whole of Italy, from north to south. Now, Genoa and Venice, amid this turmoil of party and faction, have risen to eminence, and their nobles and merchants,through commerce, are the wealthiest in the world.

Not that these cities are free from faction, as you know yourself. Genoa is at times convulsed to its centre. Such is the field, my dear boy, in which you have to try your fortunes. You are first going to Florence, and I think it most likely that I shall accept the offer made by that Republic. If not, I shall close with the Marquis of Montferrat's proposals. Vou see that range of hills marked on this chart," continued he, taking up one of the maps, and pointing out with his dagger a very dubious line of road across a most mountainous country, '' you must avoid crossing those hills," added Sir John. " You see, by following the borders of this river," sticking, as he spoke, his dagger's point into a long, black serpentine mark — " you skirt the foot of the hills ; and crossing that ferry which, by-the-by, I would for more than one reason advise you to do, you will pass more than a league from the camp of a notorious freebooter and his German barbuti."

" You mean, I suppose," interrupted Paoli, " the German condottieri-leader, Guarnieri ?" "The same," returned the English knight — Duke Guarnieri, as the Italians style him. " You have heard, then, something of this scourge of the human race, for, in truth, such he is." " Not much," replied Paoli ; " merely some vague rumours while passing through Sienna. I heard it said that he and his troops were urging the Florentine Signori into a breach of the truce between their republic and the Mar quis of Montferrat." " No, no, you are out there," said Sir John. " But I will give you a very brief outline of this remarkable, but most detestable, chiefs caieer. We have met once on opposite sides and it looks like as if we shall do so again. Duke Guarnieri is a German by birth. His real name is Werner, and he comes of a good, but impoverished, family.

In person he is gigantic. In his youth, he is said to have been remarkably handsome. In early life, nis character was noted for reckless bravery, and an extraordinary skill in the use oi almost every weapon. It seems he won the love of a very beautiful maiden, the daughter of a Ger man baron of high descent, and carried her off. Such was the rage and vengeance of her power ful family that the lovers fled their country. " Of his varied fortune for a long time little is known. Some years ago he made his ap pearance in Lombardi under the name of Guarnieri, and at the head of a most lawless band. Increasing, by degrees, his forces, he entered the service of the Lord of Padua. Some splendid actions, but blasted by the most atrocious cruelties, soon rendered his name no torious. His vices and detestable cruelties increased ; his deeds and his actions, allowing for exaggeration, are more the acts of a fiend than of a human being.

His wife, Herman garde, accompanies him everywhere ; and, I have heard, has saved many a victim from his lawless passions. lie has one son — a greater Diable, par excellence, than his sire. Duke# Guarnieri wears a cuirass, on which is engraved in gold the impious and horrid sentence of ' Enemy of God, of Man, and of Pity.'* " " Is this possible ?" exclaimed the Corsican, much astonished. "Fact, my young friend," returned Sir John, "proud of his immense strength and stature — confident of the devotion of the five thousand well disciplined men he leads, he thinks nothing of forcing well fortified cities to pay him ransom. His boast is that no man ever yet withstood him in single combat. Such is Duke Guarnieri. Now if he, with his band, intend — which the Florentines are apprehensive he does — to traverse their territories, plunder ing and devasting, aud extorting ransom from the various towns — we shall take the field in the pay of Florence.

If not, and if he shapes his course towards the Paduan states, I shall * See Percival's History of Italy. take the offer of the Marquis of Montferrat. Therefore, as I was pointing out to you the road, I think you may as well avoid altogether approaching the encampment of this Duke Guarnieri. Neither he nor his troop are over scrupulous in levying contributions whether from travellers or cities, or strong bodies of armed pilgrims." " Well as there is neither honour or glory to be obtained," replied Paoli, " in an encounter with this German freebooter, I will follow your advice, Sir John. After a few days' stay in Florence, I will proceed to Ravenna, and embark there for Venice." " By St. George, Giacinto !" said the Eng lish knight, laughing, " if you serve long with those amphibious animals, the Venetians, you will forget what a good steed is.

However, remember what I have offered you. Thank the stars these Italian princes have a hap^y knack of quarrelling and fighting their disferences out with any other swords than their own." The following morning, after a most friendly and affectionate parting with the cbivalric and true hearted Sir John Hawkwood, Sir Giacinto Paoli, and his squire resumed their journey to Florence.

Chapter II. The Rencontre

The Corsican knight was mounted on a very powerful horse, of great spirit. In truth, it was necessary he should possess both spirit and bone to sustain the athletic frame of the rider cased in the splendid, but heavy, armour of the period. His squire, Pulini, the foster brother of his father, and who was most devotedly attached to the son, was a strong, muscular man — in age about forty-six, and extremely well featured and skilled in arms, having served with the elder Paoli in many a battle field. He was also well armed and mounted. They con tinued their road for some time along the smiling banks of the Arno, till they reached the ferry. Having crossed the river, they pursued a well beaten track, as a shorter road by a league to Bosco. Pulini remonstrated at taking short cuts ; but Paoli, remarking that the day was intensely hot, and that the horses seemed to suffer, proposed taking a road that ran along the side of a thick wood, which looked most inviting.

They continued their journey under the shade of the wood, which seemed of great extent, rising to some height on one part. Round the base of the hill ran a clear sparkling stream. It was now about noon ; and Paoli, to refresh and rest the horses, determined to halt for an hour under the shade, and relieve them by letting them graze. Having dismounted and looked round him the squire observed, as he took his master's helmet and lance — " We have got out of the right track Signor. The old ferryman who induced us to cross the stream by way of a short cut, told us to keep the wood on our right, and the marsh on our left ; and, by St. Antony, we have, I see, re versed the direction." " So I thought," returned Paoli, " when we turned to the left after passing the myrtle grove. But it is very little matter, the day is long."

Giacinto Paoli rambled up the mount to see if he could gain a view round its base. When half way up, he heard the tinkling of bells, like those then worn round the necks of mules. The sound came from the right, and seemed below him. " Doubtless some travellers," thought the Knight, pushing his way through the myrtles, till he gained a view down into a little vale or glen, through, which the rivulet ran. Beneath vol. i. c him, scattered over the greensward, was a large party of travellers, evidently reposing and re freshing themselves. The group that first at tracted his attention, was a party of five per sons — three females and two males, among whom was an elderly dame, attired in the travelling costume of the times, her head di vested of the enormous hood then worn. Amusing herself with adorning this good lady's head, was a very young girl, who was forming wreaths of wild flowers, and, in a playful man ner, placing them on the dame's head, Paoli was not fifty paces above them, though concealed from observation by the myrtles.

The face of this young maiden, though she was not more than fifteen, struck him forcibly, from its exquisite loveliness. She was tall for her age ; for, till she turned her sweet, Hebe face towards him, he supposed from her graceful figure and height, that she must be at least seventeen or eighteen years of age. Giacinto gazed long and thoughtfully upon the fair face of the maiden ; for his young life, passed from his very earliest years amid the wild strifes of his native land, had af forded but little time or ease either for the enjoyment of society, or the cultivation of the limited accomplishments of that iron age. Still the Corsican was ever an admirer of beauty ; and, for the period in which he lived, he was an accomplished cavalier ; especially as the years spent in Pisa, with the Grand Master of the Knights of St. Stephen, with whom he was a prodigious favorite, were not always passed in iron mail and in fierce strife.

The young girl was simply attired in white ; having thrown aside a wide mantle and a large Tuscan straw hat. Opposite the old dame, who seemed to enjoy the young girl's playful fancy, sat an old, but hale and hearty cavalero, who seemed to be intently occupied with the various articles of food spread out before him. c At a short distance from this party, sat another. This latter consisted of fourteen or fifteen armed retainers, while several mules, a close litter, and fifteen stout roadsters were picketed about the vale, cropping the short, sweet grass that grew on the banks of the rivulet. While Paoli stood leaning against a tree, debating whether he should descend and accost the party below, his ear caught the jiugling sound of armed riders coming from the other side of the abrupt hill or mound on which he stood.

The party, below, also seemed to hear the sound, for the old cavalero laid down the cup he was drinking from, and listened. Passing to the other side, Paoli gained a spot from which both sides of the mount were visible. He then perceived the cause of the sound he had heard, and beheld about twenty armed riders beneath, watering their horses in the rivulet. By their arms and the crimson horsehair flowing from their helmets, he sur mised they were German Barbuti. No Condottieri forces at that period were more superbly armed than the Barbuti. Over their mail coats of interlaced chain, were cuirasses of highly polished steel. The cuirasses boots and cuisses were of the same material, and shone equally with the rest of their bright array. A little in advance of the troop, rode a tall powerful man, similarly armed, only that, instead of horse-hair, he wore a rich plume of crimson feathers in his casque.

This cavalero rode a little in advance so as to see round the angle of the mound. As soon as he perceived the party we have described, he checked his horse and gallopped back to his troop, who were tightening the girths of their saddles. Some words which our hero did not hear, caused them at once to mount and follow their leader. But before this, Paoli, who guessed some mischief would come of the meeting of the Barbuti and the old cavalero, turned back to where he had left Pulini, and found his squire bridling his horse. "Follow me as fast as you can, Pulini," said the Knight, bracing on his casque and grasping his heavy lance. Without a word more, he gallopped off round the mount. " St. Antony ! what's the matter now ?" muttered the squire, (who well knew his master's impetuosity,) tightening his own girths and preparing to follow.

In a few moments, Giacinto Paoli had turned the angle of the hill, his speed being increased by the shouts and cries that filled the air. As he came into view of the scene, he perceived that the Barbuti had assaulted the party which had so interested him. The females were grouped together in terror. Neither the old Cavelero or his retainers had had time to mount ; but were clustered together offering but a faint and certainly most ineffec tual resistance to the mounted German free booters. The loud shout of the Corsican knight, as he urged his strong horse to full speed, attracted at once the notice of the leader of the troop, who, turning round, lowered his lance, and spurred his steed to meet this fresh antagonist. He rode a heavy, though singularly powerful German horse ; but his opponent, celebrated for his power and skill with the lance, met him in full career ; and though Paoli was shaken in his seat, and his horse staggered with the shock, he bore his assailant to the earth, with a mortal stroke of his lance through the neck, crashing with irresis tible force through chain and mail.

Astounded and paralyzed by the fall of their leader — for he lay without the slightest motion on the sod — the Barbuti drew back, while several sprung from their horses, and raised the fallen man ; but life was quite ex tinct. The rest, with shouts of rage, hastened to revenge his death. By this time, Pulini had arrived sword in hand ; and the old Cavalero's men taking advantage of the pause, hurried to their horses, mounted, and hastened to assist the knight. But Paoli had by this time dropped his lance, and seizing his heavy battle axe, beat one of the foremost of the Barbuti from his horse. Seconded bravely by his squire, they stood the brunt of the assault till the old Cavalero and his followers rode up. The Barbuti then demanded a parley, finally consent ing to retire if they should be permitted to carry off the body of their leader and their wounded comrades.

They seemed to regard the power of the Corsican knight with surprise and rage ; but evidently felt no desire to renew the strife. Giacinto Paoli willingly acceded to this ; and making the request of the Barbuti known to the party, the old Cavalero also as sented. Some of the troop then dismounted, aud the body of their leader, wrapped in a large mantle, being placed upon his horse, and the wounded assisted to remount, the whole party, without exchanging a word with their victors, rode slowly from the scene of their late conten tion. No sooner had the Barbuti disappeared round the angle of the mount than the old Cavalero turned towards the Corsican, who had dismounted, and was examining his steed. " A thousand thanks, Sir Knight," said he, "for your most opportune and gallant assistance. You have rescued yonder dear girl from the clutches of that incarnate fiend, Ludovico Guarnieri."