Authors: Mary Shelley
"You, my dear Castruccio," said Scoto, "will soon
return to your native country, where your talents and valour will
open for you a brilliant career. A soldier, if he join wisdom of
counsel to soldiership, must for a while succeed in Italy; and if
he be prudent, he need not fall as I did. A chief in Italy ought to
pay strict attention to the discipline and equipment of his
followers, and to the spreading the terror of his name among his
enemies. This must be his first step; and without that the
foundations of his power are as sand; for to have many cities
subject to his command is as nothing in the hour of danger, since
if he control them not with iron, gold will ever find its way into
the councils of the citizens; and woe and defeat are to that chief,
who reigns only by the choice of the people; a choice more fickle
and deceitful than the famed faithlessness of woman.
"But, having once formed an army, disciplined it, and shewn
its temper by success, then is the time to change the arts of war
for those of counsel, and to work your way as the mole, shewing no
sign of your path, until your triumphant power comes forth where it
is least expected. Nor be lavish of gold; for that is power while
you possess it, weakness when surrendered into the hands of
another. But alliances, marriages, nominal honours and promises are
the fit allurements to be used among our countrymen. By one or
other of these means, of such motley materials are Italian
confederacies composed, one single chieftain may ever introduce
dissention and treason into the enemy's camp. It was thus that
I fell; for I did not trust to my own strength, but to that of my
allies.
"There are two classes of men in Italy, which indeed often
cut like a two-edged sword, and turn upon their master, yet which
with proper management are of infinite use in the accomplishment of
secret treaties, and the carrying on of correspondence in the very
heart of the enemy's councils: these are the priests, and the
Uomini di Corte. The priests are the least trust-worthy and the
most expensive: yet sometimes I have seen them stand by their
employer, if he yielded them much respect and apparent submission,
and betray him who has paid them well, yet who had neglected the
arts of flattery. In their youth men are often led to trust to
their actions and their sword; but every day is another page of
experience, to shew us that men are governed by words alone, words
light as air, yet which have often been found capable of
overturning empires: witness the triumphs of the Popes, who
dissipated the armies of their enemies, and despoiled them of rank,
possessions and life, by excommunications, and anathemas--words.
But, in discovering this infinite power in words, let it make you
prudent in their use; be not chary in their quantity, but look well
to their quality. But to return to our instruments,--priests, and
Uomini di Corte.
"These latter are poor dogs, often faithful, easily
satisfied, and who can penetrate every where, see every thing, hear
every thing, and if you acquire but the art of getting their
knowledge from them, they become of infinite utility; this is done
by many words, much good humour, and a little gold. When Della
Torre and I chased Matteo Visconti from Milan, that chief retired
to live on bread and onions in his miserable castle of St. Columban
among the Euganean hills. All at once Della Torre began to suspect,
that Matteo had received money from Germany, and was secretly
collecting arms and men at his castle. So he sent for a Uomo di
Corte, a famous fellow in those days, one Marco Lombardi, who had
in former times prophesied to count Ugolino his future misfortunes,
and said to him; `Now, my brave Marco, if you would gain a palfrey
and a gold-embroidered robe, I have an easy task, which
accomplished they shall both be yours. Go, as if on your own
pleasure, to the castle where Matteo Visconti now lives; spy well
if there be gleam of arms of appearance of soldiers; and, when you
take leave of the chief, ask him in a buffoonish manner to answer
you two questions: let those questions be, first, how he likes his
present state, and if he be not poorly off; and secondly, when he
hopes to return to Milan.'
"Marco readily undertook the task, and visited the castle
of St. Columban, where he found Visconti ill dressed, ill fed, and
worse attended; for there were about him only a few wrinkled and
crippled followers, who not being able to gain more in the wars,
and too lazy for work, came to starve themselves under his roof.
His good lady was worse off, not having a handmaid to wait upon
her, and, as I have heard, there was but one capuchin between her
and her husband, which they wore by turns. Marco made but a short
stay in the castle, for he got nothing to eat; but, as he took his
leave of Visconti, he intreated the chief to help him to gain a
palfrey and silken robe. `Willingly,' replied Visconti, `if I
am able; but think not to get them from me, for I have them
not.'
"`Noble count,' said Marco, `answer me two questions,
and I shall receive these gifts in pay for your answers.'
"And then he put the two demands, as Della Torre had
instructed him. Visconti, who was discerning and cunning, replied:
`Truly I find my present situation suited to me, since I suit
myself to it; tell this to your master, Messer Guido Della Torre,
who sent you; and tell him also, that when his crimes out number
mine, then it is God's will that I return to Milan.'
"Della Torre, relieved from his fears, since he undoubtedly
feared German gold more than the due punishment for his sins,
rewarded Marco as he had promised."
Such were the lessons of Scoto; and the reader will easily
forgive me, if I repeat them not so often, or dilate on them so
much as the chief himself did. Castruccio listened with curiosity,
half angry, half convinced; and in those days the seeds of craft
were sown, that, flourishing afterwards, contributed to his
advancement to power and glory. As winter drew to a close, Scoto
said to him: "I could have wished, my young friend, that you
fought under my banners another campaign, and that I might still
enjoy the advantage of your society and valour; but fortune orders
it otherwise, and you must away to Italy. Henry of Luxemburgh, now
emperor of Germany, has begun to advance towards that country,
where he will collect the wrecks of the Ghibeline party, and
endeavour to re-establish them. You are a Ghibeline of a high and
faithful family, and must not omit this opportunity for your
advancement. Return to Italy; join the emperor; and I doubt not
that through his means you will be restored to your wealth and
rights in Lucca. Go, Castruccio; you are formed for action and
command: do not forget my lessons. Here or in England they might be
useless, but in Italy they are necessary to your success. I doubt
not of the high fortune that awaits you; and it will warm my old
blood, if I think, that I, an exile, and a soldier of fortune,
fighting under colours not my own, shall have contributed to the
advancement of so lofty a spirit as yours."
Castruccio followed the advice of Scoto; he took an affectionate
leave of him, and again received the courteous thanks of the French
monarch. He was loaded with many costly presents; and his sword, of
the finest temper, the hilt and sheath richly embossed and inlaid
with jewels, was presented to him by the hands of the queen. He
consigned these gifts, and the spoil by which he was enriched, into
the hands of an Italian merchant, to be conveyed by his means into
Italy; he travelled himself on horseback, accompanied by a servant,
and a mule which bore his armour.
Journeying at this leisurely rate, he arrived after an interval
of some weeks, at the southeastern extremity of France. He
approached the beautiful Alps, the boundaries of his native
country: their white domes and peaks pierced the serene atmosphere;
and silence, the deep silence of an Alpine winter, reigned among
their ravines. As he advanced into their solitudes, he lost all
traces of the footsteps of man, and almost of animals:--an eagle
would sometimes cross a ravine, or a chamois was seen hanging on
the nearly perpendicular rock. The giant pines were weighed down by
a huge canopy of snow; and the silent torrents and frozen
waterfalls were covered, and almost hid, by the uniform mass. The
paths of the vallies, and the ascent of the mountains, ever
difficult, were almost impassable; perpetual showers of snow hid
every track, and a few straggling poles alone guided the traveller
in his dangerous journey. The vulture leaving his nest in the rock,
screamed above, seeming to tell the rash adventurer who dared
disturb his haunt, that his torn limbs were the tribute due to him,
the monarch of that region. Sometimes even, the road was strewed
with the members of the venturous chamois, whose sure foot had
failed among the snows; and the approach of Castruccio scared the
birds of prey from their repast on his half-frozen limbs. One pass
was particularly dangerous: the road was cut in the side of a
precipitous mountain: below, the stream which had cleared its way
in the very depth of the valley, was hidden by the overhanging of
the precipice: above, the mountain side, almost vulture-baffling,
black, except where the snow had found a resting-place in its
clefts, towered so high that the head became dizzy, when the
traveller would have gazed on the walled-in heavens. The path was
narrow; and being entirely exposed to the south, the snows that
covered it had been slightly melted, and again frozen, so that they
had become slippery and dangerous. Castruccio dismounted from his
horse; and turning his eyes from the depth below, he led him slowly
on, until the widening of the road, and the appearance of a few
pines diminished the terror of the surrounding objects.
Then, finding the road less dangerous, he remounted, and was
proceeding cautiously along the edge of the precipice, when he
heard a voice behind him as calling for help. Hastily dismounting,
and tying the animal to a jutting point of the rock, he returned to
that chasm, which he had just passed with such tremendous
difficulty. There he saw a mule standing quietly by the road side;
but, on the steep face of the precipice a few feet below, he
perceived a man clinging to the pointed inequalities of the
mountain, with such energy that his whole force and being seemed to
live in the grasp, and his voice failed as he again endeavoured to
cry for help. Castruccio's servant had lingered far behind, so
that he was obliged alone to attempt the fearful task of drawing
the sufferer from his appalling situation. He unbound his sash,
and, tying one end to the girth of the mule's saddle, and
taking the other in his hand, he threw it down to the man below. By
these means, with infinite difficulty, he succeeded in hoisting up
the poor wretch, who, white and wrinkled with fear, stood almost as
entranced, when he found himself safe from the frightful death he
had feared. Castruccio soothed him with a gentle voice, and told
him that now the worst part of the journey was over, and that they
were about to descend by an easier path to the plain of Italy;
"where," he said, "you will find a paradise that
will cure all your evils."
The man looked at him with a mixture of wonder, and what might
have been construed into contempt, had his muscles, made rigid with
cold and fear, yielded to the feeling of his mind. He replied
drily, "I am an Italian." And Castruccio smiled to
perceive, that these words were considered as a sufficient
refutation to his assertion of the boasted charms of Italy.
After resting until the unfortunate traveller had recovered
health and life, they proceeded along the mountain, saying little,
for the path was too dangerous to admit of conversation. Yet, when
Castruccio dared take his eyes from the track of his horse's
feet, he could not help examining curiously the companion fortune
had given him. He was a man by whose dry and wrinkled face you
might guess him to be nearly sixty years of age; and yet, by the
agility and more youthful appearance of his person, he could not be
more than forty. His eyes were small, black and sparkling; his nose
pointed and turned up; his lips were as a line in his face,
uncurved and unmarked except by three deep wrinkles at each corner:
his eyebrows were elevated as in vanity; and yet a flat high
forehead denoted a good understanding. His figure was tall and
lank, yet muscular, and was clothed with a mixture of poverty and
rank, which it amused Castruccio to observe. He wore gilt spurs as
a knight, and, carefully folded on his saddle before him, was a
rich mantle edged with deep gold lace; he was clad in a close,
strait dress of threadbare cloth, with a kind of narrow trowsers
made of common undressed sheep skin, which fastened with many knots
and intersections round his legs; he had a large capuchin cloak
wrapped about him, made of coarse flannel, such as was called
sclavina, because it was manufactured in Sclavonia, and was worn at
that time by the poorest class of Italians. On his feet he wore
great coarse boots of undressed sheep skin, that furnished a
singular contrast to the golden spurs attached to them; his head
was covered only by a scull-cap of iron mail sewed to cloth, which
was called in those times a majata.
The sun descended as they pursued their journey, when,
perceiving a house not far distant, Castruccio's companion drew
in his mule, and pointing to it, asked if they should not remain
there for a night? "Nay," replied Castruccio, "the
moon will be up in half an hour, and being but just past its full,
we may, I think, proceed safely."
"Do not trust to the moon," said his companion;
"its shadows are deep and fearful, and its light not less
dangerous; sometimes a beam cast from among trees across the road,
will look like a running stream, and its black shades may conceal
the most frightful dangers. I dare not proceed by moonlight, and am
unwilling to part company with you on this dreadful road. I beg you
to consent to pass the night at that house."