Chapter 3.II. The Life of Love and War - the Messenger of Peace - the
Joust.
Girt with his soldiery, secure in his feudal hold, enchanted with the
beauty of the earth, sky, and sea around, and passionately adoring his
Adeline, Montreal for awhile forgot all his more stirring projects and his
ruder occupations. His nature was capable of great tenderness, as of great
ferocity; and his heart smote him when he looked at the fair cheek of his
lady, and saw that even his presence did not suffice to bring back the
smile and the fresh hues of old. Often he cursed that fatal oath of his
knightly order which forbade him to wed, though with one more than his
equal; and remorse embittered his happiest hours. That gentle lady in that
robber hold, severed from all she had been taught most to prize - mother,
friends, and fair fame - only loved her seducer the more intensely; only
the more concentrated upon one object all the womanly and tender feelings
denied every other and less sinful vent. But she felt her shame, though
she sought to conceal it, and a yet more gnawing grief than even that of
shame contributed to prey upon her spirits and undermine her health. Yet,
withal, in Montreal's presence she was happy, even in regret; and in her
declining health she had at least a consolation in the hope to die while
his love was undiminished. Sometimes they made short excursions, for the
disturbed state of the country forbade them to wander far from the castle,
through the sunny woods, and along the glassy sea, which make the charm of
that delicious scenery; and that mixture of the savage with the tender, the
wild escort, the tent in some green glade in the woods at noon, the lute
and voice of Adeline, with the fierce soldiers grouped and listening at the
distance, might have well suited the verse of Ariosto, and harmonised
singularly with that strange, disordered, yet chivalric time, in which the
Classic South became the seat of the Northern Romance. Still, however,
Montreal maintained his secret intercourse with the Hungarian king, and,
plunged in new projects, willingly forsook for the present all his designs
on Rome. Yet deemed he that his more august ambition was only delayed,
and, bright in the more distant prospects of his adventurous career, rose
the Capitol of Rome and shone the sceptre of the Caesars.
One day, as Montreal, with a small troop in attendance, passed on horseback
near the walls of Terracina, the gates were suddenly thrown open, and a
numerous throng issued forth, preceded by a singular figure, whose steps
they followed bareheaded and with loud blessings; a train of monks closed
the procession, chanting a hymn, of which the concluding words were as
follows: -
Beauteous on the mountains - lo,
The feet of him glad tidings gladly bringing;
The flowers along his pathway grow,
And voices, heard aloft, to angel harps are singing:
And strife and slaughter cease
Before thy blessed way, Young Messenger of Peace!
O'er the mount, and through the moor,
Glide thy holy steps secure.
Day and night no fear thou knowest,
Lonely - but with God thou goest.
Where the Heathen rage the fiercest,
Through the armed throng thou piercest.
For thy coat of mail, bedight
In thy spotless robe of white.
For the sinful sword - thy hand
Bearing bright the silver wand:
Through the camp and through the court,
Through the bandit's gloomy fort,
On the mission of the dove,
Speeds the minister of love;
By a word the wildest taming,
And the world to Christ reclaiming:
While, as once the waters trod
By the footsteps of thy God,
War, and wrath, and rapine cease,
Hush'd round thy charmed path, O Messenger of Peace!
The stranger to whom these honours were paid was a young, unbearded man,
clothed in white wrought with silver; he was unarmed and barefooted: in
his hand he held a tall silver wand. Montreal and his party halted in
astonishment and wonder, and the Knight, spurring his horse toward the
crowd, confronted the stranger.
"How, friend," quoth the Provencal, "is thine a new order of pilgrims, or
what especial holiness has won thee this homage?"
"Back, back," cried some of the bolder of the crowd, "let not the robber
dare arrest the Messenger of Peace."
Montreal waved his hand disdainfully.
"I speak not to you, good sirs, and the worthy friars in your rear know
full well that I never injured herald or palmer."
The monks, ceasing from their hymn, advanced hastily to the spot; and
indeed the devotion of Montreal had ever induced him to purchase the
goodwill of whatever monastery neighboured his wandering home.
"My son," said the eldest of the brethren, "this is a strange spectacle,
and a sacred: and when thou learnest all, thou wilt rather give the
messenger a passport of safety from the unthinking courage of thy friends
than intercept his path of peace."
"Ye puzzle still more my simple brain," said Montreal, impatiently, "let
the youth speak for himself; I perceive that on his mantle are the arms of
Rome blended with other quarterings, which are a mystery to me, - though
sufficiently versed in heraldic art as befits a noble and a knight."
"Signor," said the youth, gravely, "know in me the messenger of Cola di
Rienzi, Tribune of Rome, charged with letters to many a baron and prince in
the ways between Rome and Naples. The arms wrought upon my mantle are
those of the Pontiff, the City, and the Tribune."
"Umph; thou must have bold nerves to traverse the Campagna with no other
weapon than that stick of silver!"
"Thou art mistaken, Sir Knight," replied the youth, boldly, "and judgest of
the present by the past; know that not a single robber now lurks within the
Campagna, the arms of the Tribune have rendered every road around the city
as secure as the broadest street of the city itself."
"Thou tellest me wonders."
"Through the forest - and in the fortress, - through the wildest solitudes,
- through the most populous towns, - have my comrades borne this silver
wand unmolested and unscathed; wherever we pass along, thousands hail us,
and tears of joy bless the messengers of him who hath expelled the brigand
from his hold, the tyrant from his castle, and ensured the gains of the
merchant and the hut of the peasant."
"Pardieu," said Montreal, with a stern smile, "I ought to be thankful for
the preference shown to me; I have not yet received the commands, nor felt
the vengeance, of the Tribune; yet, methinks, my humble castle lies just
within the patrimony of St. Peter."
"Pardon me, Signor Cavalier," said the youth; "but do I address the
renowned Knight of St. John, warrior of the Cross, yet leader of banditti?"
"Boy, you are bold; I am Walter de Montreal."
"I am bound, then, Sir Knight, to your castle."
"Take care how thou reach it before me, or thou standest a fair chance of a
quick exit. How now, my friends!" seeing that the crowd at these words
gathered closer round the messenger, "Think ye that I, who have my mate in
kings, would find a victim in an unarmed boy? Fie! give way - give way.
Young man, follow me homeward; you are safe in my castle as in your
mother's arms." So saying, Montreal, with great dignity and deliberate
gravity, rode slowly towards his castle, his soldiers, wondering, at a
little distance, and the white-robed messenger following with the crowd,
who refused to depart; so great was their enthusiasm, that they even
ascended to the gates of the dreaded castle, and insisted on waiting
without until the return of the youth assured them of his safety.
Montreal, who, however lawless elsewhere, strictly preserved the rights of
the meanest boor in his immediate neighbourhood, and rather affected
popularity with the poor, bade the crowd enter the courtyard, ordered his
servitors to provide them with wine and refreshment, regaled the good monks
in his great hall, and then led the way to a small room, where he received
the messenger.
"This," said the youth, "will best explain my mission," as he placed a
letter before Montreal.
The Knight cut the silk with his dagger, and read the epistle with great
composure.
"Your Tribune," said he, when he had finished it, "has learned the laconic
style of power very soon. He orders me to render this castle, and vacate
the Papal Territory within ten days. He is obliging; I must have breathing
time to consider the proposal; be seated, I pray you, young sir. Forgive
me, but I should have imagined that your lord had enough upon his hands
with his Roman barons, to make him a little more indulgent to us foreign
visitors. Stephen Colonna - "
"Is returned to Rome, and has taken the oath of allegiance; the Savelli,
the Orsini, the Frangipani, have all subscribed their submission to the
Buono Stato."
"How!" cried Montreal, in great surprise.
"Not only have they returned, but they have submitted to the dispersion of
all their mercenaries, and the dismantling of all their fortifications.
The iron of the Orsini palace now barricades the Capitol, and the stonework
of the Colonna and the Savelli has added new battlements to the gates of
the Lateran and St. Laurence."
"Wonderful man!" said Montreal, with reluctant admiration. "By what means
was this effected?"
"A stern command and a strong force to back it. At the first sound of the
great bell, twenty thousand Romans rise in arms. What to such an army are
the brigands of an Orsini or a Colonna? - Sir Knight, your valour and
renown make even Rome admire you; and I, a Roman, bid you beware."
"Well, I thank thee - thy news, friend, robs me of breath. So the Barons
submit, then?"
"Yes: on the first day, one of the Colonna, the Lord Adrian, took the
oath; within a week, Stephen, assured of safe conduct, left Palestrina, the
Savelli in his train; the Orsini followed - even Martino di Porto has
silently succumbed."
"The Tribune - but is that his dignity - methought he was to be king - "
"He was offered, and he refused, the title. His present rank, which
arrogates no patrician honours, went far to conciliate the nobles."
"A wise knave! - I beg pardon, a sagacious prince! - Well, then, the
Tribune lords it mightily, I suppose, over the great Roman names?"
"Pardon me - he enforces impartial justice from peasant or patrician; but
he preserves to the nobles all their just privileges and legal rank."
"Ha! - and the vain puppets, so they keep the semblance, scarce miss the
substance - I understand. But this shows genius - the Tribune is unwed, I
think. Does he look among the Colonna for a wife?"
"Sir Knight, the Tribune is already married; within three days after his
ascension to power, he won and bore home the daughter of the Baron di
Raselli."
"Raselli! no great name; he might have done better."
"But it is said," resumed the youth, smiling, "that the Tribune will
shortly be allied to the Colonna, through his fair sister the Signora
Irene. The Baron di Castello woos her."
"What, Adrian Colonna! Enough! you have convinced me that a man who
contents the people and awes or conciliates the nobles is born for empire.
My answer to this letter I will send myself. For your news, Sir Messenger,
accept this jewel," and the knight took from his finger a gem of some
price. "Nay, shrink not, it was as freely given to me as it is now to
thee."
The youth, who had been agreeably surprised, and impressed, by the manner
of the renowned freebooter, and who was not a little astonished himself
with the ease and familiarity with which he had been relating to Fra
Moreale, in his own fortress, the news of Rome, bowed low as he accepted
the gift.
The astute Provencal, who saw the evident impression he had made, perceived
also that it might be of advantage in delaying the measures he might deem
it expedient to adopt. "Assure the Tribune," said he, on dismissing the
messenger, "shouldst thou return ere my letter arrive, that I admire his
genius, hail his power, and will not fail to consider as favourably as I
may of his demand."
"Better," said the messenger, warmly (he was of good blood, and gentle
bearing), - "better ten tyrants for our enemy, than one Montreal."
"An enemy! believe me, sir, I seek no enmity with princes who know how to
govern, or a people that has the wisdom at once to rule and to obey."
The whole of that day, however, Montreal remained thoughtful and uneasy; he
despatched trusty messengers to the Governor of Aquila (who was then in
correspondence with Louis of Hungary), to Naples, and to Rome: - the last
charged with a letter to the Tribune, which, without absolutely
compromising himself, affected submission, and demanded only a longer
leisure for the preparations of departure. But, at the same time, fresh
fortifications were added to the castle, ample provisions were laid in,
and, night and day, spies and scouts were stationed along the pass, and in
the town of Terracina. Montreal was precisely the chief who prepared most
for war when most he pretended peace.
One morning, the fifth from the appearance of the Roman messenger,
Montreal, after narrowly surveying his outworks and his stores, and feeling
satisfied that he could hold out at least a month's siege, repaired, with a
gayer countenance than he had lately worn, to the chamber of Adeline.
The lady was seated by the casement of the tower, from which might be seen
the glorious landscape of woods, and vales, and orange groves - a strange
garden for such a palace! As she leant her face upon her hand, with her
profile slightly turned to Montreal, there was something ineffably graceful
in the bend of her neck, - the small head so expressive of gentle blood, -
with the locks parted in front in that simple fashion which modern times
have so happily revived. But the expression of the half-averted face, the
abstracted intentness of the gaze, and the profound stillness of the
attitude, were so sad and mournful, that Montreal's purposed greeting of
gallantry and gladness died upon his lips. He approached in silence, and
laid his hand upon her shoulder.
Adeline turned, and taking the hand in hers, pressed it to her heart, and
smiled away all her sadness. "Dearest," said Montreal, "couldst thou know
how much any shadow of grief on thy bright face darkens my heart, thou
wouldst never grieve. But no wonder that in these rude walls - no female
of equal rank near thee, and such mirth as Montreal can summon to his
halls, grating to thy ear - no wonder that thou repentest thee of thy
choice."
"Ah, no - no, Walter, I never repent. I did but think of our child as you
entered. Alas! he was our only child! How fair he was, Walter; how he
resembled thee!"
"Nay, he had thine eyes and brow," replied the Knight, with a faltering
voice, and turning away his head.
"Walter," resumed the lady, sighing, "do you remember? - this is his
birthday. He is ten years old today. We have loved each other eleven
years, and thou hast not tired yet of thy poor Adeline."
"As well might the saints weary of paradise," replied Montreal, with an
enamoured tenderness, which changed into softness the whole character of
his heroic countenance.
"Could I think so, I should indeed be blest!" answered Adeline. "But a
little while longer, and the few charms I yet possess must fade; and what
other claim have I on thee?"
"All claim; - the memory of thy first blushes - thy first kiss - of thy
devoted sacrifices - of thy patient wanderings - of thy uncomplaining love!
Ah, Adeline, we are of Provence, not of Italy; and when did Knight of
Provence avoid his foe, or forsake his love? But enough, dearest, of home
and melancholy for today. I come to bid thee forth. I have sent on the
servitors to pitch our tent beside the sea, - we will enjoy the orange
blossoms while we may. Ere another week pass over us, we may have sterner
pastime and closer confines."
"How, dearest Walter! thou dost not apprehend danger?"
"Thou speakest, lady-bird," said Montreal, laughing, "as if danger were
novelty; methinks by this time, thou shouldst know it as the atmosphere we
breathe."
"Ah, Walter, is this to last for ever? Thou art now rich and renowned;
canst thou not abandon this career of strife?"
"Now, out on thee, Adeline! What are riches and renown but the means to
power! And for strife, the shield of warriors was my cradle - pray the
saints it be my bier! These wild and wizard extremes of life - from the
bower to the tent - from the cavern to the palace - today a wandering
exile, tomorrow the equal of kings - make the true element of the chivalry
of my Norman sires. Normandy taught me war, and sweet Provence love. Kiss
me, dear Adeline; and now let thy handmaids attire thee. Forget not thy
lute, sweet one. We will rouse the echoes with the songs of Provence."
The ductile temper of Adeline yielded easily to the gaiety of her lord; and
the party soon sallied from the castle towards the spot in which Montreal
had designed their resting-place during the heats of day. But already
prepared for all surprise, the castle was left strictly guarded, and
besides the domestic servitors of the castle, a detachment of ten soldiers,
completely armed, accompanied the lovers. Montreal himself wore his
corselet, and his squires followed with his helmet and lance. Beyond the
narrow defile at the base of the castle, the road at that day opened into a
broad patch of verdure, circled on all sides, save that open to the sea, by
wood, interspersed with myrtle and orange, and a wilderness of odorous
shrubs. In this space, and sheltered by the broad-spreading and classic
fagus (so improperly translated into the English "beech"), a gay pavilion
was prepared, which commanded the view of the sparkling sea; - shaded from
the sun, but open to the gentle breeze. This was poor Adeline's favourite
recreation, if recreation it might be called. She rejoiced to escape from
the gloomy walls of her castellated prison, and to enjoy the sunshine and
the sweets of that voluptuous climate without the fatigue which of late all
exercise occasioned her. It was a gallantry on the part of Montreal, who
foresaw how short an interval might elapse before the troops of Rienzi
besieged his walls; and who was himself no less at home in the bower than
in the field.
As they reclined within the pavilion - the lover and his lady, - of the
attendants without, some lounged idly on the beach; some prepared the
awning of a pleasure-boat against the decline of the sun; some, in a ruder
tent, out of sight in the wood, arranged the mid-day repast; while the
strings of the lute, touched by Montreal himself with a careless skill,
gave their music to the dreamy stillness of the noon.
While thus employed, one of Montreal's scouts arrived breathless and heated
at the tent.
"Captain," said he, "a company of thirty lances completely armed, with a
long retinue of squires and pages, have just quitted Terracina. Their
banners bear the two-fold insignia of Rome and the Colonna."
"Ho!" said Montreal, gaily, "such a troop is a welcome addition to our
company; send our squire hither."
The squire appeared.
"Hie thee on thy steed towards the procession thou wilt meet with in the
pass, (nay, sweet lady mine, no forbiddal!) seek the chief, and say that
the good Knight Walter de Montreal sends him greeting, and prays him, in
passing our proper territory, to rest awhile with us a welcome guest; and -
stay, - add, that if to while an hour or so in gentle pastime be acceptable
to him, Walter de Montreal would rejoice to break a lance with him, or any
knight in his train, in honour of our respective ladies. Hie thee quick!"
"Walter, Walter," began Adeline, who had that keen and delicate
sensitiveness to her situation, which her reckless lord often wantonly
forgot; "Walter, dear Walter, canst thou think it honour to - "
"Hush thee, sweet Fleur de lis! Thou hast not seen pastime this many a
day; I long to convince thee that thou art still the fairest lady in Italy
- ay, and of Christendom. But these Italians are craven knights, and thou
needst not fear that my proffer will be accepted. But in truth, lady mine,
I rejoice for graver objects, that chance throws a Roman noble, perhaps a
Colonna, in my way; - women understand not these matters; and aught
concerning Rome touches us home at this moment."
With that the Knight frowned, as was his wont in thought, and Adeline
ventured to say no more, but retired to the interior division of the
pavilion.
Meanwhile the squire approached the procession that had now reached the
middle of the pass. And a stately and gallant company it was: - if the
complete harness of the soldiery seemed to attest a warlike purpose, it was
contradicted on the other hand by a numerous train of unarmed squires and
pages gorgeously attired, while the splendid blazon of two heralds
preceding the standard-bearers, proclaimed their object as peaceful, and
their path as sacred. It required but a glance at the company to tell the
leader. Arrayed in a breast-plate of steel, wrought profusely with gold
arabesques, over which was a mantle of dark green velvet, bordered with
pearls, while above his long dark locks waved a black ostrich plume in a
high Macedonian cap, such as, I believe, is now worn by the Grand Master of
the order of St. Constantine, rode in the front of the party, a young
cavalier, distinguished from his immediate comrades, partly by his graceful
presence and partly by his splendid dress.
The squire approached respectfully, and dismounting, delivered himself of
his charge.
The young cavalier smiled, as he answered, "Bear back to Sir Walter de
Montreal the greeting of Adrian Colonna, Baron di Castello, and say, that
the solemn object of my present journey will scarce permit me to encounter
the formidable lance of so celebrated a knight; and I regret this the more,
inasmuch as I may not yield to any dame the palm of my liege lady's beauty.
I must live in hope of a happier occasion. For the rest, I will cheerfully
abide for some few hours the guest of so courteous a host."
The squire bowed low. "My master," said he, hesitatingly, "will grieve
much to miss so noble an opponent. But my message refers to all this
knightly and gallant train; and if the Lord Adrian di Castello deems
himself forbidden the joust by the object of his present journey, surely
one of his comrades will be his proxy with my master."
Out and quickly spoke a young noble by the side of Adrian, Riccardo
Annibaldi, who afterwards did good service both to the Tribune and to Rome,
and whose valour brought him, in later life, to an untimely end.
"By the Lord Adrian's permission," cried he, "I will break a lance with - "
"Hush! Annibaldi," interrupted Adrian. "And you, Sir Squire, know, that
Adrian di Castello permits no proxy in arms. Avise the Knight of St. John
that we accept his hospitality, and if, after some converse on graver
matters, he should still desire so light an entertainment, I will forget
that I am the ambassador to Naples, and remember only that I am a Knight of
the Empire. You have your answer."
The squire with much ceremony made his obeisance, remounted his steed, and
returned in a half-gallop to his master.
"Forgive me, dear Annibaldi," said Adrian, "that I balked your valour; and
believe me that I never more longed to break a lance against any man than I
do against this boasting Frenchman. But bethink you, that though to us,
brought up in the dainty laws of chivalry, Walter de Montreal is the famous
Knight of Provence, to the Tribune of Rome, whose grave mission we now
fulfil, he is but the mercenary captain of a Free Company. Grievously in
his eyes should we sully our dignity by so wanton and irrelevant a holiday
conflict with a declared and professional brigand."
"For all that," said Annibaldi, "the brigand ought not to boast that a
Roman knight shunned a Provencal lance."
"Cease, I pray thee!" said Adrian, impatiently. In fact, the young
Colonna, already chafed bitterly against his discreet and dignified
rejection of Montreal's proffer, and recollecting with much pique the
disparaging manner in which the Provencal had spoken of the Roman chivalry,
as well as a certain tone of superiority, which in all warlike matters
Montreal had assumed over him, - he now felt his cheek burn, and his lip
quiver. Highly skilled in the martial accomplishments of his time, he had
a natural and excusable desire to prove that he was at least no unworthy
antagonist even of the best lance in Italy: and, added to this, the
gallantry of the age made him feel it a sort of treason to his mistress to
forego any means of asserting her perfections.
It was, therefore, with considerable irritation that Adrian, as the
pavilion of Montreal became visible, perceived the squire returning to him.
And the reader will judge how much this was increased when the latter, once
more dismounting, accosted him thus:
"My master, the Knight of St. John, on hearing the courteous answer of the
Lord Adrian di Castello, bids me say, that lest the graver converse the
Lord Adrian refers to should mar gentle and friendly sport, he ventures
respectfully to suggest, that the tilt should preface the converse. The
sod before the tent is so soft and smooth, that even a fall could be
attended with no danger to knight or steed."
"By our Lady!" cried Adrian and Annibaldi in a breath, "but thy last words
are discourteous; and" (proceeded Adrian, recovering himself) "since thy
master will have it so, let him look to his horse's girths. I will not
gainsay his fancy."
Montreal, who had thus insisted upon the exhibition, partly, it may be,
from the gay and ruffling bravado, common still amongst his brave
countrymen; partly because he was curious of exhibiting before those who
might soon be his open foes his singular and unrivalled address in arms,
was yet more moved to it on learning the name of the leader of the Roman
Company; for his vain and haughty spirit, however it had disguised
resentment at the time, had by no means forgiven certain warm expressions
of Adrian in the palace of Stephen Colonna, and in the unfortunate journey
to Corneto. While Adrian, halting at the entrance of the defile, aided by
his squires, indignantly, but carefully, indued the rest of his armour, and
saw, himself, to the girths, stirrup-leathers, and various buckles in the
caparison of his noble charger, Montreal in great glee kissed his lady,
who, though too soft to be angry, was deeply vexed, (and yet her vexation
half forgotten in fear for his safety,) snatched up her scarf of blue,
which he threw over his breastplate, and completed his array with the
indifference of a man certain of victory. He was destined, however, to one
disadvantage, and that the greatest; his armour and lance had been brought
from the castle - not his warhorse. His palfrey was too slight to bear the
great weight of his armour, nor amongst his troop was there one horse that
for power and bone could match with Adrian's. He chose, however, the
strongest that was at hand, and a loud shout from his wild followers
testified their admiration when he sprung unaided from the ground into the
saddle - a rare and difficult feat of agility in a man completely arrayed
in the ponderous armour which issued at that day from the forges of Milan,
and was worn far more weighty in Italy than any other part of Europe.
While both companies grouped slowly, and mingled in a kind of circle round
the green turf, and the Roman heralds, with bustling importance, attempted
to marshal the spectators into order, Montreal rode his charger round the
sward, forcing it into various caracoles, and exhibiting, with the vanity
that belonged to him, his exquisite and practised horsemanship.
At length, Adrian, his visor down, rode slowly into the green space, amidst
the cheers of his party. The two Knights, at either end, gravely fronted
each other; they made the courtesies with their lances, which, in friendly
and sportive encounters, were customary; and, as they thus paused for the
signal of encounter, the Italians trembled for the honour of their chief:
Montreal's stately height and girth of chest forming a strong contrast,
even in armour, to the form of his opponent, which was rather under the
middle standard, and though firmly knit, slightly and slenderly built. But
to that perfection was skill in arms brought in those times, that great
strength and size were far from being either the absolute requisites, or
even the usual attributes, of the more celebrated knights; in fact, so much
was effected by the power and the management of the steed, that a light
weight in the rider was often rather to his advantage than his prejudice:
and, even at a later period, the most accomplished victors in the tourney,
the French Bayard and the English Sydney, were far from remarkable either
for bulk or stature.
Whatever the superiority of Montreal in physical power, was, in much,
counterbalanced by the inferiority of his horse, which, though a thick-
built and strong Calabrian, had neither the blood, bone, nor practised
discipline of the northern charger of the Roman. The shining coat of the
latter, coal black, was set off by a scarlet cloth wrought in gold; the
neck and shoulders were clad in scales of mail; and from the forehead
projected a long point, like the horn of an unicorn, while on its crest
waved a tall plume of scarlet and white feathers. As the mission of Adrian
to Naples was that of pomp and ceremony to a court of great splendour, so
his array and retinue were befitting the occasion and the passion for show
that belonged to the time; and the very bridle of his horse, which was
three inches broad, was decorated with gold, and even jewels. The Knight
himself was clad in mail, which had tested the finest art of the celebrated
Ludovico of Milan; and, altogether, his appearance was unusually gallant
and splendid, and seemed still more so beside the plain but brightly
polished and artfully flexile armour of Montreal, (adorned only with his
lady's scarf,) and the common and rude mail of his charger. This contrast,
however, was not welcome to the Provencal, whose vanity was especially
indulged in warlike equipments; and who, had he foreseen the "pastime" that
awaited him, would have outshone even the Colonna.
The trumpeters of either party gave a short blast - the Knights remained
erect as statues of iron; a second, and each slightly bent over his saddle-
bow; a third, and with spears couched, slackened reins, and at full speed,
on they rushed, and fiercely they met midway. With the reckless arrogance
which belonged to him, Montreal had imagined, that at the first touch of
his lance Adrian would have been unhorsed; but to his great surprise the
young Roman remained firm, and amidst the shouts of his party, passed on to
the other end of the lists. Montreal himself was rudely shaken, but lost
neither seat nor stirrup.
"This can be no carpet knight," muttered Montreal between his teeth, as,
this time, he summoned all his skill for a second encounter; while Adrian,
aware of the great superiority of his charger, resolved to bring it to bear
against his opponent. Accordingly, when the Knights again rushed forward,
Adrian, covering himself well with his buckler, directed his care less
against the combatant, whom he felt no lance wielded by mortal hand was
likely to dislodge, than against the less noble animal he bestrode. The
shock of Montreal's charge was like an avalanche - his lance shivered into
a thousand pieces, Adrian lost both stirrups, and but for the strong iron
bows which guarded the saddle in front and rear, would have been fairly
unhorsed; as it was, he was almost doubled back by the encounter, and his
ears rung and his eyes reeled, so that for a moment or two he almost lost
all consciousness. But his steed had well repaid its nurture and
discipline. Just as the combatants closed, the animal, rearing on high,
pressed forward with its mighty crest against its opponent with a force so
irresistible as to drive back Montreal's horse several paces: while
Adrian's lance, poised with exquisite skill, striking against the
Provencal's helmet, somewhat rudely diverted the Knight's attention for the
moment from his rein. Montreal, drawing the curb too tightly in the
suddenness of his recovery, the horse reared on end; and, receiving at that
instant, full upon his breastplate, the sharp horn and mailed crest of
Adrian's charger - fell back over its rider upon the sward. Montreal
disencumbered himself in great rage and shame, as a faint cry from his
pavilion reached his ear, and redoubled his mortification. He rose with a
lightness which astonished the beholders; for so heavy was the armour worn
at that day, that few knights once stretched upon the ground could rise
without assistance; and drawing his sword, cried out fiercely - "On foot,
on foot! - the fall was not mine, but this accursed beast's, that I must
needs for my sins raise to the rank of a charger. Come on - "
"Nay, Sir Knight," said Adrian, drawing off his gauntlets and unbuckling
his helmet, which he threw on the ground, "I come to thee a guest and a
friend; but to fight on foot is the encounter of mortal foes. Did I accept
thy offer, my defeat would but stain thy knighthood."
Montreal, whose passion had beguiled him for the moment, sullenly
acquiesced in this reasoning. Adrian hastened to soothe his antagonist.
"For the rest," said he, "I cannot pretend to the prize. Your lance lost
me my stirrups - mine left you unshaken. You say right; the defeat, if
any, was that of your steed."
"We may meet again when I am more equally horsed," said Montreal, still
chafing.
"Now, our Lady forbid!" exclaimed Adrian, with so devout an earnestness
that the bystanders could not refrain from laughing; and even Montreal
grimly and half-reluctantly, joined in the merriment. The courtesy of his
foe, however, conciliated and touched the more frank and soldierly
qualities of his nature, and composing himself, he replied: -
"Signor di Castello, I rest your debtor for a courtesy that I have but
little imitated. Howbeit, if thou wouldst bind me to thee for ever, thou
wilt suffer me to send for my own charger, and afford me a chance to
retrieve mine honour. With that steed, or with one equal to thine, which
seems to me of the English breed, I will gage all I possess, lands, castle,
and gold, sword and spurs, to maintain this pass, one by one, against all
thy train."
Fortunately, perhaps, for Adrian, ere he could reply, Riccardo Annibaldi
cried, with great warmth, "Sir Knight, I have with me two steeds well
practised in the tourney; take thy choice, and accept in me a champion of
the Roman against the French chivalry; - there is my gage."
"Signor," replied Montreal, with ill-suppressed delight, "thy proffer shows
so gallant and free a spirit, that it were foul sin in me to balk it. I
accept thy gage, and whichever of thy steeds thou rejectest, in God's name
bring it hither, and let us waste no words before action."
Adrian, who felt that hitherto the Romans had been more favoured by fortune
than merit, vainly endeavoured to prevent this second hazard. But
Annibaldi was greatly chafed, and his high rank rendered it impolitic in
Adrian to offend him by peremptory prohibition; the Colonna reluctantly,
therefore, yielded his assent to the engagement. Annibaldi's steeds were
led to the spot, the one a noble roan, the other a bay, of somewhat less
breeding and bone, but still of great strength and price. Montreal finding
the choice pressed upon him, gallantly selected the latter and less
excellent.
Annibaldi was soon arrayed for the encounter, and Adrian gave the word to
the trumpeters. The Roman was of a stature almost equal to that of
Montreal, and though some years younger, seemed, in his armour, nearly of
the same thews and girth, so that the present antagonists appeared at the
first glance more evenly matched than the last. But this time Montreal,
well horsed, inspired to the utmost by shame and pride, felt himself a
match for an army; and he met the young Baron with such prowess, that while
the very plume on his casque seemed scarcely stirred, the Italian was
thrown several paces from his steed, and it was not till some moments after
his visor was removed by his squires that he recovered his senses. This
event restored Montreal to all his natural gaiety of humour, and
effectually raised the spirits of his followers, who had felt much humbled
by the previous encounter.
He himself assisted Annibaldi to rise with great courtesy, and a profusion
of compliments, which the proud Roman took in stern silence, and then led
the way to the pavilion, loudly ordering the banquet to be spread.
Annibaldi, however, loitered behind, and Adrian, who penetrated his
thoughts, and who saw that over their cups a quarrel between the Provencal
and his friend was likely to ensue, drawing him aside, said: - "Methinks,
dear Annibaldi, it would be better if you, with the chief of our following,
were to proceed onward to Fondi, where I will join you at sunset. My
squires, and some eight lances, will suffice for my safeguard here; and, to
say truth, I desire a few private words with our strange host, in the hope
that he may be peaceably induced to withdraw from hence without the help of
our Roman troops, who have enough elsewhere to feed their valour."
Annibaldi pressed his companion's hand: "I understand thee," he replied
with a slight blush, "and, indeed, I could but ill brook the complacent
triumph of the barbarian. I accept thy offer."
