Ettore Fieramosca : or, The challenge of Barletta : an Historical Romance of the times of the Medici

Front matter

<1

'A y

<x

Dedication

TO

GENERAL GEORGE P. MORRIS.

Dear General :

Chapter 1

At the close of a beautiful day in April, 1503, the bell of St. Domenico, in Barletta, was sounding the last tocsins of the Ave-Maria. In the piazza on the shore of the sea which forms the rendezvous of the quiet inhabitants, particularly in the small towns of our southern climates, where they are accustomed to congregate and repose themselves from the fatigues of the day, were now assembled for the same purpose, in various groups, a large number of Spanish and Italian soldiers. Some of them were walking about, others were standing still or sitting down, and some were leaning over the boats drawn up along the beach ; and, like the soldiery of every age and nation, they had something about them which seemed to say — the world is ours. In fact, the citizens themselves gave a tacit approval of their impudence by keeping at a distance, and giving up to them the best posts. One who fancies he figures to himself the appearance of this group by imagining a similar gathering of our modern soldiers, in their miserable uniform, would be sadly mistaken.

The army of Gonzales, especially his infantry, although perfectly equipped and the bravest in Christendom, knew no more than other soldiers of the 16th century of modem military discipline, which has at last succeeded in making every soldier just alike from head to foot. Here, on the contrary, every man who followed the profession of arms, either as a foot-soldier or cavalier, could equip and adorn himself as best suited his own fancy, and for this reason there was visible a wonderful diversity in the trappings, colors, and bearing of this group, which made it an easy matter to tell the nation each one belonged to. There was the serious, immovable Spaniard, cold and arrogant, wrapped (embozados, as they say) in his national capa (cloak), below which fell the long and delicate blade of Toledo ; and there was the loquacious and gesticulating Italian in his frock or doublet, with his bloody cutlass hung to his side.

When the bell struck, the noise ceased in the piazza, and nearly every head was uncovered ; for in those times, even soldiers believed in God, and sometimes prayed to him. After a short pause every hat was again replaced, and the hum once more began. Although the general aspect of this assemblage might have seemed at first sight gay and vivacious, it was, however, easy to discover among the diflerent groups, that one common feeling of sadness and disquiet filled their minds, and formed the subject of their conversation. The object of this solicitude was, indeed, real and exciting. Famine had already begun to make itself felt among the soldiers, and even the inhabitants of Barletta, where the great captain had garrisoned his army, waiting the tardy arrival of reinforcements from Spain ; for his troops were so inferior in numbers to the French, he feared to risk everything upon the fortune of a single engagement

Three sides of the piazza were formed by the miserable habitations of fishermen and soldiers, the church, and the public imi. ,The fourth opened on the sea, and was strewn, according to the custom in such places, with boats, nets, and other fishing implements. On the distant verge of the horizon, rose up from the sea the dusky form of Mount Gargano, on whose lofty peak the last rays of the setting sun were dying away. Over the intervening space, a light vessel was slowly making her way, tacking every moment to catch the inconstant puffs of wind, which broke at intervals the bosom of the gulf. But the distance of the vessel, and the dimness of the twilight, rendered it impossible to tell her flag.

One of the Spaniards who stood in the midst of a group of soldiers near the beach, had his eyes fixed intently on the

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

distant rover, knitting his brows, and twisting his huge moustaches, which were verging from black to grey. “ What art thou gazing on there statue-like, so fixed thou canst not turn an ear to one who speaks to thee ?”

This outbreak of a Neapolitan soldier, who had received no answer to his first question, was intended to irritate the imperturbable Spaniard, but he was not the least disturbed — “ Voto a Dios que nuestra Senora de Gaeta (God grant that our Lady of Gaeta) who sends fair wind and swift passage to so many who pray to her at sea, may now send this vessel to us, who pray to her on land, and have nothing to put between our teeth but the kicks of a blunderbuss ! — Who knows but the craft brings grain and provisions to those French descomulgados (wretches), who have shut us up in this cage to die of famine * * * y mala Pasqua me de Dios y sea la primera que

viniere, si a su gracia el senor Gonzalo Hernandez (May God give me a bad Easter, and let it be the first too that comes, if I believe his Grace the Lord Gonzales Hernandes), after dining well and supping better, cares more for us than the leather he treads on.”

“ What can Gonzales do ?” answered the passionate Neapolitan, glad of a chance to begin a dispute. “Ought he to turn himself into bread to stuff the belly of a beast like tliee— When he has it, he divides it. And the unlucky ships that were driven on the shoals, who devoured their cargoes? Was it Gonzales or you ?”

The Spaniard’s countenance underwent a slight change, and he was just going to retort, but he was interrupted by one of the company, who, slapping him on the shoulder, shook his head and lowered his voice to give more weight to his words.

“ Dost thou not remember, Nufio,” he said, “ that the steel of thy pike was within three fingers of the breast of Gonzales, at Taranto, the day that strange trick was played off on us to pay us for old scores. • * * And if there ever was a day

I believed thy neck would scrape acquaintance with the halter, that was the day. * ♦ * Dost thou remember how many tricks thou tried’st to scare the lion ? Canst thou hurl that old tower from the castle (pointing to the tower that lifted itself

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

over the town) ? Just as easily as Gonzales, who all cold, cold * * it seems to me, I see him this minute with his hairy hand parrying the steel, as he told thee, mira que sin querer no me hieras * * * (beware, lest thou wound me without

design).”

At this moment the brown face of the old soldier looked darker than ever, and to break up a conversation which seemed little to his liking, he cut off the reply of the Neapolitan by saying, “What care I for Taranto, a pike, or Gonzales ?” — “ What carest thou ?” answered the first speaker, smiling. “ If thou wishest to give an ear to Ruy Perez, and keep thy breadpassage safe till God sends us something to eat, speak not loud enough for Gonzales to hear thee, and remember Taranto. Half a word is too little, and a whole one too much, says the Italian proverb, and a man warned is half saved.”

Nuho muttered indistinctly something in reply, which seemed to have little to do with his thoughts ; for the hint he had received set him to thinking in spite of himself, and he turned a suspicious look around to see if any one was likely to take up his rash words. A single glance seemed to satisfy him; he had luckily done no mischief.

The piazza in the mean time was nearly deserted. The hour of night sounded out from the castle, and the group we left on the beach followed the crowd, and dispersed through the narrow, dark lanes of the city.

“ Diego Garcia will come back to-night,” said Ruy Perez, as they walked along : “ the good lances of his Third have found in the country game for the chase, and who knows but to-morrow we’ll dine better than we sup to-night !”

The thoughts excited by this hope, stopped all further discourse, and each one returned in silence to his own habitation.

While this conversation was going on, the vessel which had seemed at first to be passing by in its voyage, was now slowly approaching the shore. A boat was lowered from her sides, and two men entered it, and hastily pulled for the beach. They had no sooner made a landing, than the vessel from which they came, shifted her sails, went on her course, and was seen the challenge of bar LETT a.

no more. The boat drew up on the obscurest side of the piazza, and the two oarsmen stepped ashore.

Perceiving no one around the place, the first of the strangers stopped to wait for his attendant who remained behind to take a portmanteau, and something else, from the boat ; after which he drew it up to the head of a small mole which served as a landing-place- to larger craft, and then rejoined his companion, whose bearing had an air of superiority, which indicated an inequality in their persons. He addressed him a word , which seemed to be the conclusion of their conversation during their passage to the shore.

“ Michael, the time has come to be on the guard. Thou knowest who I am. I’ll say no more.”

Michael, who understood very well the force of these few syllables, nodded his head in acquiescence, and they passed on together to the inn.

Before the principal door of the house were several small pillars of rough brick which supported a portico, under which were placed a number of tables for the accommodation of guests. The name of the host was Baccio da Rieti ; but the people, who had some suspicions against him, had dubbed him Veleno (poison), and this was the title by which he was generally known. He had caused to be painted between the two windows a large red sun, which the painter, according to certain astronomical notions not yet extinct, had represented with eyes, nose and mouth, the whole encircled by rays of the color of gold, in the form of the tail of a swallow, which could be seen in the day-time from the distance of a mile. The house was divided into two stories. The first served for a kitchen and dining-room. A flight of wooden stairs conducted to the second, inhabited by the host and his family, and any unlucky customer chance brought there for the night. It was the common custom in Italy, in those times, to sup at seven o’clock ; but at this hour there were only a few soldiers and petty officers, who were sitting before the door in the fresh air. They belonged to the company of Prospero Colonna, who then followed the fortunes of Spain. They were all daring young men, and were in the habit of assembling here with the 1 *

TIIE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

Other bold spirits of the army. The host, who understood his business, took good care they lacked neither cards nor wine, and being well spiced with fun himself, he knew pretty well how to take money out of the pockets of his guests by keeping them in good humor. ,

Veleno happened just at this moment to be standing square in the door, fanning himself with his cap, his apron gathered up on one side, and the jokes, the laughter and the noise, went up to the stars.

The two strangers arrived ; but in order not to appear such, they walked leisurely along, stopping frequently to converse with each other, and when they came up in front of the door, the light within which fell upon them, revealed nothing in their dress to distinguish them from ordinary guests. They took no notice of any one in the assemblage when they entered the inn, if we except a single person who was seated apart. He was in a position to observe them closely, and starting up suddenly he could not suppress an exclamation of extreme surprise — “ the Duke” * * * The manner in which this wmrd was pronounced, plainly showed it was to have been followed by a name ; but a withering glance from one of the passing strangers, was enough to drive this name down the throat of the soldier who spoke. No one had appeared to pay much attention to his surpris One of his companions simply said :

“ Boscherino ! what Duke art thou dreaming about ? I’ve not seen thee drink to-day. Seems this to thee a place for Dukes ?” Boscherino could hardly believe his exclamation had made so slight an impression, or that he should be esteemed either a sot, or out of his head ; he therefore gave an artful turn to the conversation, and resumed the thread of their former discourse.

Close behmd the two strangers came the host Veleno, with his fat slovenly person, his wax, olive complexion, his bearded, malicious face, in which appeared a mixture of the Coviello and the assassin. Without very much disconcerting himself he lifted his cap and said, “ Command me. Signori.”

The man we have already called Michael replied : — “ Prepare supper.”

The host put on a long face, and answered in a sorrowful

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

tone, affecting an air of sincerity, “ Supper ? You mean to say a mouthful, I suppose, if we can scrape it together. God only knows what this close siege has left us. Why, the loaf of bread, that used to cost a cortonese, now costs half a florin, and that’s what I pay to the bakers. But at all events, gentlemen of your cloth will be sure to pay, so I’ll do my best and with this exordium, intended, like all host’s speeches, to make his guests pay just five times as much as their fare is worth, he opened a closet, and taking out a frying-pan, placed it on the furnace. By the help of a wind raised by his apron, which puffed up the "ashes to suffocation, a piece of a kid was soon warmed, which, if the word of the host could be taken, was the only fragment of meat at that moment in Barletta, and had been reserved for a certain corporal, who was expected to arrive every moment. “ But guests of such a description were not to be sent to bed on empty stomachs.”

However this may have been, the viand was cooked, and came on the table in an earthen dish, ornamented with flowers, accompanied by a jug of the same material with a large mouth, and half a goat’s cheese, as hard as a stone, on which the ' impressions of the knives of many a former customer who had made their experiments, were clearly visible. The table at which they sat, stood at the bottom of the dining hall, if we may apply such an epithet to this smoky den. On the opposite side, there was a large fire-place with a mantelpiece supported by twelve figures, with three or four ovens on either side. Before this stood the cook’s table, from the centre of which a huge table extended in the form of the letter T nearly the length of the room, to the opposite wall where our two guests were supping. From the centre beam of the ceiling hung a four sided brazen lantern, whose nearly spent flame cast just light enough to keep the guests from breaking their shins against the benches and stools scattered ajjpund.

Having provided everything necessary for the supper, the host returned to the door, whistling as usual, and just at that moment a man came dashing up on a mule, and leaped to the ground crying out, “ Courage, boys, cheer up— good news for you ; and thou too, Veleno, multiply thyself by twenty and

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

there will yet be enough for all. Diego Garcia has come back with his cavalcade, and in a moment will be here for supper. He’ll have with him twenty or five-and-twenty good lances, and he alone counts for four — so thou mayest obey orders, and quick too — Well, * * * what now? Dead art thou? Come, stir thyself.”

The host stood with his mouth wide open ; and the hravi jumped up and gathered round the messenger to question him about the luck of the hunting party.

“ You’ll kill me,” roared out the new comer, pushing them aside and tearing himself from the crowd — *• and you’ll get nothing out of me by it either. If you want to know anything shut your mouths” —

“ Speak then, speak,” they all cried together : “ what news have we ?”

“My news is, that this very minute we have come back tired to death, and after being fourteen hours on horseback without a drop of water (Hey ! there, Veleno, a mug of your best — cold — my throat is as dry as a tinder-box). But forty head of large beasts and seventy half-scores of small ones are already in Barletta ; and three men-at-arms taken, who, God willing, will shell out as many fine gold ducats as we are baptized Christians if they ever get another look at their own thresholds. I tell you it was no easy trick to unhorse them and get away their swords. (Art thou coming with that wine before I choke to death?) We came down on them like thunderbolts, hand to hand. One of them was unhorsed, and his wounded charger had him under his feet. They all cried out, surrender or thou art a dead man. He jumped to his feet, and dealt out some heavy blows with his huge sword ; and had he not shivered the blade by a stroke levelled at Inigo’s horse, which fell upon the iron pommel of his saddle, we should have been obliged to finish him with our lances to prevent his escape! But he finally gave up to Diego Garcia the rest of his sword he still held in his hand.”

Veleno now came with his liquor, and turned out a draught for the narrator, who said to him, “ God bless thee, man — why, thou hast come at last !”

“ And what is this demon’s name ?” asked Boscherino.

“ I can’t tell — they say he’s a grand French baron, with a name that sounds like La Cratte * * la * * La Motte — ^yes, now I remember — yes — La Motte, a grand heoMy you see, that makes the earth tremble. Any way, the affair is well ended, and we’ll be merry if God will.” Then turning a glance in upon the house, he cried out — “What art thou doing there, traitor, poltroon ? Nothing on the fire yet ! Shall I take, the measure of thy shoulders with this lance ?”

And the fellow had already entered the inn to execute his threat ; but he stopped when he saw a large pot had already been put over a pile of oak, which began to kindle and crack ; while the host, heated to a perspiration, had banished all thought of famine and siege, and set himself busily at work to put thmgs in order, well knowing that Paredes and his companions were not to be trifled with. He had found in a flash soipething to make a soup, and flaying a kid, he put a portion of it m the pot to boil, while the rest he nm upon two long spits and set them to roasting. Things seemed now to be making some progress.

“ Well done !” said the man who had ordered the supper; “ well for the Veleno ! Had they come and found things out of order, thou wouldst have felt the weight of the five fingers of Diego Garcia. Pll go now and send them here in no time.”

“ But Ramazzotto will not be here with them ?” asked one of the corporals.

“ How can I come ? The company is yet on horseback ; I must see them lodged and keep an eye on the booty in the piazza of the castle, and thou knowest that these hands can’t be idle to-night, for there’s one who knows how to keep tliem busy. Fieramosca, Miale, Brancaleone, and all our company are on guard, and we are to see no disturbance takes place to the Spaniards another time, let it cut where it may.”

“ If this be as thou sayest,” rejoined Boscherino, “ we’ll come and help thee. Come on, comrades, with goodwill; this brave fellow has more miles in his body than we without sleep-

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

ing, and we must help him.” These words brought them all from the inn, and they started off together, talking about the broils of the day, till they reached the spot where the company of Ramazzotto was waiting for him. The latter, reining in his horse, rode on slowly, telling stories and answering questions, and Boscherino was following on behind, all absorbed in what the other was saying, when he felt a sudden jerk of his cloak. Turning round, he saw in the shadow a man whom he recognized as one of the two he left supping at the inn.

“ Boscherino,” he said in an under voice, stopping him while the rest went on, “ the Duke would speak with thee ; fear not, for he would do thee no harm : but be on thy guard and take care what thou doest — come on.”

These words sent Boscherino’s blood through his veins with the heat of a fever, and in a voice scarcely audible he inquired, “ Are you D. Michele ? ”

“ Yes, I am ; keep the secret and play the man.”

Boscherino had been a Capo Squadra of Signor Gio Pagolo Baglioni, and of several other Italian lords. He had always behaved valiantly through all the wars of the times, and no man in battle was more reckless of danger. He had gathered a troop of five hundred infantry and one hundred arquebusers, under a commission from Signor Prospero, and marched to the relief of Gonzales, who had given him a generous stipend, and treated him with the utmost confidence.

But great as was his courage, he quailed under the terrible words of D. Michele ; he well knew before whom he would be obliged in a few moments to stand, and in spite of himself, his knees shook with terror. Could he have had his own choice, he would gladly have gone to the field alone against ten of the bravest lances, rather than undergo this meeting. Reflecting on what had passed, the truth soon flashed on him.

“ I’m but too certain,” said he to himself, “ he heard my exclamation, the Duke. * * The infernal devil himself moved my tongue — ^but yet I was in a distant part of the room, and it seems to me I did not raise my voice much. But what will not that villain, scoundrel, yet do, and what damnable deed has brought him here ? ”

THE CHALLENGE OF BAR LETT A.

Such were his thoughts as the two took their way back to the inn. Nobody but the people of the house were left in the kitchen, for the Duke had gone to his chamber, which was over the eating-room, and the pianks of the floor were so filled with cracks that everything could be seen and heard which took place below.

The host had more than suspected his guest was not what he appeared- to be, but being closely besieged by the enemy on land, all kinds of visitors came to “flie town by sea, and he disturbed himself very little, although now and then some one happened along of a diflerent stamp from his ordinary guests.

D. Michele and Boscherino mounted the stair-case and entered the Duke’s room. A bed covered with a brown spread ; a small table, and a few chairs, made up the furniture of the chamber. The lantern which burned dimly, was utterly extinguished by the draught which came in from the door as it opened, and while D. Michele went below for another light, Boscherino was left alone with the Duke. He remained immovably fixed against the wall, afraid to speak, or even to breathe, but ashamed withal to find himself petrified with dread, when but a few moments before he did not fear a man in the world. But the consciousness of being in the presence of that strange, terrible man, and feeling he was so near, he might hear in the silence his rapid breathing, sent, in spite of himself, such a chill of horror through his whole frame, that he W'ished he was dead. D. Michele returned with a light, and the Duke was sitting on the side of the bed. His presence was that of a man who had never known what was repose, either of body or soul. He was well formed, but lean and sinewy, only slightly above an ordinary stature, and he showed a kind of nervousness in every movement, which could not be described. He was dressed in a dark mantle, with slashed sleeves gathered up in large folds. A slender dagger was sheathed in his belt, and his sword lay upon the table, with a hat adorned with a single black plume. His hands were gloved, and his feet dressed in large travelling boots. He turned upon the two his pallid face. His cheeks were hollow.

THE CHALLENGE OF BAR LETT A.

and covered with livid spots ; his moustache was sandy, and his beard hung down, divided upon his breast. But liis glance was like nothing else in the world. At will, his eye became more venomous tha q, . a^^sei^enPs. sweeter than a young child’s, or more terrible than ^e J)loody pupil of the hyena. ^

He cast a mild and encouraging look upon Boscherino, who had shrunk into half his si^e, still standing in the same spot, as if awaiting the sentence ^ death ; but Boscherino knew the man who spoke to him, ana he felt no assurance.

“ I have been recognized by tft^, Boscherino,” he said, “ and I am glad. 1 always had thee for a brave and a faithful man, and had’st thou not seen me, I would have sought thee out. I well knew thou wert here. Tell no one thou hast seen me. Thou knowest 1 can reward thy services, nor will it improve thy prospects much, to excite my displeasure.”

The Capo Squadra knew he spoke the truth, and he replied : “ Your Excellency can dispose of me at your pleasure, and I will be, as I have always been, your faithful servant. I believe what I say is confirmed by my past life. 1 only pray your Excellency to deign to suffer me to speak a few words with liberty.”

The Duke nodded his assent, and he continued :

“ You have, illustrious Signore, my word of honor, which cannot be broken. But some one may have seen you. If your secret is divulged, and I leave this room, the blame might fall unjustly on my shoulders.”

“ Go,” replied the Duke, “ and fear nothing— prove thyself a man of honor, and fear no blame from me so long as thou dost not merit it. I only wish my presence here to be kept secret a few hours ; then the whole, world may laiow it, and say what they please. But as thou prizest my favor, let not the secret pass thy mouth.”

Boscherino made no reply to these words. He bowed his head with reverence, showily by his manner that sort of a readiness to obey his master, which indicated no other uneasuiess than a fear of not being esteemed sufficiently obedient.

THE CHALLENGE OF BARLETTA.

He took his leave, and bowed himself out of the room, where he seemed to have been a thousand years. After some minutes, D. Michele also came out, and went to the room assigned him, and the upper story of the inn for the rest of that night remained as quiet as though it were uninhabited.

CHAPTER IT.

The company for whom supper had been prepared reached the house of Veleno about two o’clock at night, and in a single moment they filled the grand room, where the table was laid. The host, jealous of his honor, had made out to embellish his table with clean white linen, and besides dishes and plates of silver and copper, which were unusually bright, because they had been scoured with greater diligence, there were scattered here and there over the table vine leaves, for the bottles and goblets to stand on, and a thousand drops of water were glittering on their sides, under the light of the lamps, giving good testimony of their having been newly rinsed. Diego Garcia di Paredes entered first, and was followed by the French barons, Jacques de Guignes, Girant de Forses and La Motte, his prisoners. The Spaniard, the boldest and most powerful man m the army, and perhaps in all Europe, seemed formed by nature expressly for the profession of arms, where success used to depend almost entirely upon robustness and muscular strength. His stature towered over his companions, and constant exposure, which cuts away the fat from the limbs in such a temperament, had given so enormous a size to every muscle that appeared in his breast and shoulders, and throughout his entire body, that he seemed to resemble the colossal forms of ancient sculpture — for he was athletic, and at the same time beautifully proportioned. His neck, thick like a bull’s, wielded a small head with curly hqv,\ which grew high up behind his ears ; and his countenance was manly and bold, but without a shade of arrogance. The aspect of D. Garcia was not wanting in a certain grace, and there could be read in his countenance a frank soul, loyal and full of honor, He had already