Rienzi

E >> Edward Bulwer Lytton >> Rienzi


There was a long interval of deep silence--of general calm--throughout
the whole of Rome: the shops were still but half-opened; no man betook
himself to his business; it was like the commencement of some holyday,
when indolence precedes enjoyment.

About noon, a few small knots of men might be seen scattered about the
streets, whispering to each other, but soon dispersing; and every now
and then, a single passenger, generally habited in the long robes used
by the men of letters, or in the more sombre garb of monks, passed
hurriedly up the street towards the Church of St. Mary of Egypt, once
the Temple of Fortune. Then, again, all was solitary and deserted.
Suddenly, there was heard the sound of a single trumpet! It swelled--it
gathered on the ear. Cecco del Vecchio looked up from his anvil! A
solitary horseman paced slowly by the forge, and wound a long loud blast
of the trumpet suspended round his neck, as he passed through the middle
of the street. Then might you see a crowd, suddenly, and as by magic,
appear emerging from every corner; the street became thronged with
multitudes; but it was only by the tramp of their feet, and an
indistinct and low murmur, that they broke the silence. Again
the horseman wound his trump, and when the note ceased, he cried
aloud--"Friends and Romans! tomorrow, at dawn of day, let each man find
himself unarmed before the Church of St. Angelo. Cola di Rienzi convenes
the Romans to provide for the good state of Rome." A shout, that seemed
to shake the bases of the seven hills, broke forth at the end of
this brief exhortation; the horseman rode slowly on, and the crowd
followed.--This was the commencement of the Revolution!



Chapter 2.VI. The Conspirator Becomes the Magistrate.

At midnight, when the rest of the city seemed hushed in rest, lights
were streaming from the windows of the Church of St. Angelo. Breaking
from its echoing aisles, the long and solemn notes of sacred music
stole at frequent intervals upon the air. Rienzi was praying within the
church; thirty masses consumed the hours from night till morn, and all
the sanction of religion was invoked to consecrate the enterprise of
liberty. (In fact, I apprehend that if ever the life of Cola di Rienzi
shall be written by a hand worthy of the task, it will be shown that a
strong religious feeling was blended with the political enthusiasm of
the people,--the religious feeling of a premature and crude reformation,
the legacy of Arnold of Brescia. It was not, however, one excited
against the priests, but favoured by them. The principal conventual
orders declared for the Revolution.) The sun had long risen, and the
crowd had long been assembled before the church door, and in vast
streams along every street that led to it,--when the bell of the
church tolled out long and merrily; and as it ceased, the voices of the
choristers within chanted the following hymn, in which were somewhat
strikingly, though barbarously, blended, the spirit of the classic
patriotism with the fervour of religious zeal:--

The Roman Hymn of Liberty.

Let the mountains exult around!

("Exultent in circuito Vestro Montes," &c.--Let the
mountains exult around! So begins Rienzi's letter to the
Senate and Roman people: preserved by Hocsemius.)

On her seven-hill'd throne renown'd,
Once more old Rome is crown'd!
Jubilate!

Sing out, O Vale and Wave!
Look up from each laurell'd grave,
Bright dust of the deathless brave!
Jubilate!

Pale Vision, what art thou?--Lo,
From Time's dark deeps,
Like a Wind, It sweeps,
Like a Wind, when the tempests blow:

A shadowy form--as a giant ghost--
It stands in the midst of the armed host!
The dead man's shroud on Its awful limbs;
And the gloom of Its presence the daylight dims:
And the trembling world looks on aghast--
All hail to the SOUL OF THE MIGHTY PAST!
Hail! all hail!

As we speak--as we hallow--It moves, It breathes;
From its clouded crest bud the laurel wreaths--
As a Sun that leaps up from the arms of Night,
The shadow takes shape, and the gloom takes light.
Hail! all hail!

The Soul of the Past, again
To its ancient home,
In the hearts of Rome,
Hath come to resume its reign!

O Fame, with a prophet's voice,
Bid the ends of the Earth rejoice!
Wherever the Proud are Strong,
And Right is oppress'd by Wrong;--
Wherever the day dim shines
Through the cell where the captive pines;--
Go forth, with a trumpet's sound!
And tell to the Nations round--
On the Hills which the Heroes trod--
In the shrines of the Saints of God--
In the Caesars' hall, and the Martyrs' prison--
That the slumber is broke, and the Sleeper arisen!
That the reign of the Goth and the Vandal is o'er:
And Earth feels the tread of THE ROMAN once more!

As the hymn ended, the gate of the church opened; the crowd gave way on
either side, and, preceded by three of the young nobles of the inferior
order, bearing standards of allegorical design, depicting the triumph
of Liberty, Justice, and Concord, forth issued Rienzi, clad in complete
armour, the helmet alone excepted. His face was pale with watching and
intense excitement--but stern, grave, and solemnly composed; and its
expression so repelled any vociferous and vulgar burst of feeling, that
those who beheld it hushed the shout on their lips, and stilled, by a
simultaneous cry of reproof, the gratulations of the crowd behind.
Side by side with Rienzi moved Raimond, Bishop of Orvietto: and behind,
marching two by two, followed a hundred men-at-arms. In complete silence
the procession began its way, until, as it approached the Capitol, the
awe of the crowd gradually vanished, and thousands upon thousands of
voices rent the air with shouts of exultation and joy.

Arrived at the foot of the great staircase, which then made the
principal ascent to the square of the Capitol, the procession halted;
and as the crowd filled up that vast space in front--adorned and
hallowed by many of the most majestic columns of the temples of
old--Rienzi addressed the Populace, whom he had suddenly elevated into a
People.

He depicted forcibly the servitude and misery of the citizens--the
utter absence of all law--the want even of common security to life
and property. He declared that, undaunted by the peril he incurred, he
devoted his life to the regeneration of their common country; and he
solemnly appealed to the people to assist the enterprise, and at once
to sanction and consolidate the Revolution by an established code of law
and a Constitutional Assembly. He then ordered the chart and outline of
the Constitution he proposed, to be read by the Herald to the multitude.

It created,--or rather revived, with new privileges and powers,--a
Representative Assembly of Councillors. It proclaimed, as its first law,
one that seems simple enough to our happier times, but never hitherto
executed at Rome: Every wilful homicide, of whatever rank, was to be
punished by death. It enacted, that no private noble or citizen should
be suffered to maintain fortifications and garrisons in the city or the
country; that the gates and bridges of the State should be under the
control of whomsoever should be elected Chief Magistrate. It forbade all
harbour of brigands, mercenaries, and robbers, on payment of a thousand
marks of silver; and it made the Barons who possessed the neighbouring
territories responsible for the safety of the roads, and the transport
of merchandise. It took under the protection of the State the widow and
the orphan. It appointed, in each of the quarters of the city, an armed
militia, whom the tolling of the bell of the Capitol, at any hour, was
to assemble to the protection of the State. It ordained, that in each
harbour of the coast, a vessel should be stationed, for the safeguard
of commerce. It decreed the sum of one hundred florins to the heirs of
every man who died in the defence of Rome; and it devoted the public
revenues to the service and protection of the State.

Such, moderate at once and effectual, was the outline of the New
Constitution; and it may amuse the reader to consider how great must
have been the previous disorders of the city, when the common and
elementary provisions of civilisation and security made the character of
the code proposed, and the limit of a popular revolution.

The most rapturous shouts followed this sketch of the New Constitution:
and, amidst the clamour, up rose the huge form of Cecco del Vecchio.
Despite his condition, he was a man of great importance at the present
crisis: his zeal and his courage, and, perhaps, still more, his brute
passion and stubborn prejudice, had made him popular. The lower order of
mechanics looked to him as their head and representative; out, then, he
spake loud and fearlessly,--speaking well, because his mind was full of
what he had to say.

"Countrymen and Citizens!--This New Constitution meets with your
approbation--so it ought. But what are good laws, if we do not have
good men to execute them? Who can execute a law so well as the man
who designs it? If you ask me to give you a notion how to make a good
shield, and my notion pleases you, would you ask me, or another smith,
to make it for you? If you ask another, he may make a good shield,
but it would not be the same as that which I should have made, and the
description of which contented you. Cola di Rienzi has proposed a Code
of Law that shall be our shield. Who should see that the shield become
what he proposes, but Cola di Rienzi? Romans! I suggest that Cola di
Rienzi be intrusted by the people with the authority, by whatsoever name
he pleases, of carrying the New Constitution into effect;--and whatever
be the means, we, the People, will bear him harmless."

"Long life to Rienzi!--long live Cecco del Vecchio! He hath spoken
well!--none but the Law-maker shall be the Governor!"

Such were the acclamations which greeted the ambitious heart of the
Scholar. The voice of the people invested him with the supreme power. He
had created a Commonwealth--to become, if he desired it, a Despot!



Chapter 2.VII. Looking after the Halter when the Mare is Stolen.

While such were the events at Rome, a servitor of Stephen Colonna was
already on his way to Corneto. The astonishment with which the old Baron
received the intelligence may be easily imagined. He lost not a moment
in convening his troop; and, while in all the bustle of departure, the
Knight of St. John abruptly entered his presence. His mien had lost its
usual frank composure.

"How is this?" said he, hastily; "a revolt?--Rienzi sovereign of
Rome?--can the news be believed?"

"It is too true!" said Colonna, with a bitter smile. "Where shall we
hang him on our return?"

"Talk not so wildly, Sir Baron," replied Montreal, discourteously;
"Rienzi is stronger than you think for. I know what men are, and you
only know what noblemen are! Where is your kinsman, Adrian?"

"He is here, noble Montreal," said Stephen, shrugging his shoulders,
with a half-disdainful smile at the rebuke, which he thought it more
prudent not to resent; "he is here!--see him enter!"

"You have heard the news?" exclaimed Montreal.

"I have."

"And despise the revolution?"

"I fear it!"

"Then you have some sense in you. But this is none of my affair: I
will not interrupt your consultations. Adieu for the present!" and, ere
Stephen could prevent him, the Knight had quitted the chamber.

"What means this demagogue?" Montreal muttered to himself. "Would he
trick me?--has he got rid of my presence in order to monopolise all the
profit of the enterprise? I fear me so!--the cunning Roman! We northern
warriors could never compete with the intellect of these Italians but
for their cowardice. But what shall be done? I have already bid Rodolf
communicate with the brigands, and they are on the eve of departure from
their present lord. Well! let it be so! Better that I should first break
the power of the Barons, and then make my own terms, sword in hand, with
the plebeian. And if I fail in this,--sweet Adeline! I shall see thee
again!--that is some comfort!--and Louis of Hungary will bid high for
the arm and brain of Walter de Montreal. What, ho! Rodolf!" he
exclaimed aloud, as the sturdy form of the trooper, half-armed and
half-intoxicated, reeled along the courtyard. "Knave! art thou drunk at
this hour?"

"Drunk or sober," answered Rodolf, bending low, "I am at thy bidding."

"Well said!--are thy friends ripe for the saddle?"

"Eighty of them already tired of idleness and the dull air of Rome, will
fly wherever Sir Walter de Montreal wishes."

"Hasten, then,--bid them mount; we go not hence with the Colonna--we
leave while they are yet talking! Bid my squires attend me!"

And when Stephen Colonna was settling himself on his palfrey, he heard,
for the first time, that the Knight of Provence, Rodolf the trooper, and
eighty of the stipendiaries, had already departed,--whither, none knew.

"To precede us to Rome! gallant barbarian!" said Colonna. "Sirs, on!"



Chapter 2.VIII. The Attack--the Retreat--the Election--and the Adhesion.

Arriving at Rome, the company of the Colonna found the gates barred, and
the walls manned. Stephen bade advance his trumpeters, with one of his
captains, imperiously to demand admittance.

"We have orders," replied the chief of the town-guard, "to admit none
who bear arms, flags, or trumpets. Let the Lords Colonna dismiss their
train, and they are welcome."

"Whose are these insolent mandates?" asked the captain.

"Those of the Lord Bishop of Orvietto and Cola di Rienzi, joint
protectors of the Buono Stato." (Good Estate.)

The captain of the Colonna returned to his chief with these tidings. The
rage of Stephen was indescribable. "Go back," he cried, as soon as
he could summon voice, "and say, that, if the gates are not forthwith
opened to me and mine, the blood of the plebeians be on their own head.
As for Raimond, Vicars of the Pope have high spiritual authority, none
temporal. Let him prescribe a fast, and he shall be obeyed; but, for
the rash Rienzi, say that Stephen Colonna will seek him in the Capitol
tomorrow, for the purpose of throwing him out of the highest window."

These messages the envoy failed not to deliver.

The captain of the Romans was equally stern in his reply.

"Declare to your Lord," said he, "that Rome holds him and his as rebels
and traitors; and that the moment you regain your troop, our archers
receive our command to draw their bows--in the name of the Pope, the
City, and the Liberator."

This threat was executed to the letter; and ere the old Baron had time
to draw up his men in the best array, the gates were thrown open, and
a well-armed, if undisciplined, multitude poured forth, with fierce
shouts, clashing their arms, and advancing the azure banners of the
Roman State. So desperate their charge, and so great their numbers, that
the Barons, after a short and tumultuous conflict, were driven back,
and chased by their pursuers for more than a mile from the walls of the
city.

As soon as the Barons recovered their disorder and dismay, a hasty
council was held, at which various and contradictory opinions were
loudly urged. Some were for departing on the instant to Palestrina,
which belonged to the Colonna, and possessed an almost inaccessible
fortress. Others were for dispersing, and entering peaceably, and in
detached parties, through the other gates. Stephen Colonna--himself
incensed and disturbed from his usual self-command--was unable to
preserve his authority; Luca di Savelli, (The more correct orthography
were Luca di Savello, but the one in the text is preserved as more
familiar to the English reader.) a timid, though treacherous and subtle
man, already turned his horse's head, and summoned his men to follow him
to his castle in Romagna, when the old Colonna bethought himself of a
method by which to keep his band from a disunion that he had the sense
to perceive would prove fatal to the common cause. He proposed that they
should at once repair to Palestrina, and there fortify themselves; while
one of the chiefs should be selected to enter Rome alone, and
apparently submissive, to examine the strength of Rienzi; and with the
discretionary power to resist if possible,--or to make the best terms he
could for the admission of the rest.

"And who," asked Savelli, sneeringly, "will undertake this dangerous
mission? Who, unarmed and alone, will expose himself to the rage of the
fiercest populace of Italy, and the caprice of a demagogue in the first
flush of his power?"

The Barons and the Captains looked at each other in silence. Savelli
laughed.

Hitherto Adrian had taken no part in the conference, and but little in
the previous contest. He now came to the support of his kinsman.

"Signors!" said he, "I will undertake this mission,--but on mine own
account, independently of yours;--free to act as I may think best, for
the dignity of a Roman noble, and the interests of a Roman citizen; free
to raise my standard on mine own tower, or to yield fealty to the new
estate."

"Well said!" cried the old Colonna, hastily. "Heaven forbid we should
enter Rome as foes, if to enter it as friends be yet allowed us! What
say ye, gentles?"

"A more worthy choice could not be selected," said Savelli; "but I
should scarce deem it possible that a Colonna could think there was an
option between resistance and fealty to this upstart revolution."

"Of that, Signor, I will judge for myself; if you demand an agent for
yourselves, choose another. I announce to ye frankly, that I have seen
enough of other states to think the recent condition of Rome demanded
some redress. Whether Rienzi and Raimond be worthy of the task they have
assumed, I know not."

Savelli was silent. The old Colonna seized the word.

"To Palestrina, then!--are ye all agreed on this? At the worst, or at
the best, we should not be divided! On this condition alone I hazard the
safety of my kinsman!"

The Barons murmured a little among themselves;--the expediency of
Stephen's proposition was evident, and they at length assented to it.

Adrian saw them depart, and then, attended only by his squire, slowly
rode towards a more distant entrance into the city. On arriving at the
gates, his name was demanded--he gave it freely.

"Enter, my Lord," said the warder, "our orders were to admit all that
came unarmed and unattended. But to the Lord Adrian di Castello, alone,
we had a special injunction to give the honours due to a citizen and a
friend."

Adrian, a little touched by this implied recollection of friendship, now
rode through a long line of armed citizens, who saluted him respectfully
as he passed, and, as he returned the salutation with courtesy, a loud
and approving shout followed his horse's steps.

So, save by one attendant, alone, and in peace, the young patrician
proceeded leisurely through the long streets, empty and deserted,--for
nearly one half of the inhabitants were assembled at the walls, and
nearly the other half were engaged in a more peaceful duty,--until,
penetrating the interior, the wide and elevated space of the Capitol
broke upon his sight. The sun was slowly setting over an immense
multitude that overspread the spot, and high above a scaffold raised
in the centre, shone, to the western ray, the great Gonfalon of Rome,
studded with silver stars.

Adrian reined in his steed. "This," thought he, "is scarcely the hour
thus publicly to confer with Rienzi; yet fain would I, mingled with the
crowd, judge how far his power is supported, and in what manner it is
borne." Musing a little, he withdrew into one of the obscurer streets,
then wholly deserted, surrendered his horse to his squire, and,
borrowing of the latter his morion and long mantle, passed to one of
the more private entrances of the Capitol, and, enveloped in his cloak,
stood--one of the crowd--intent upon all that followed.

"And what," he asked of a plainly dressed citizen, "is the cause of this
assembly?"

"Heard you not the proclamation?" returned the other in some surprise.
"Do you not know that the Council of the City and the Guilds of the
Artisans have passed a vote to proffer to Rienzi the title of king of
Rome?"

The Knight of the Emperor, to whom belonged that august dignity, drew
back in dismay.

"And," resumed the citizen, "this assembly of all the lesser Barons,
Councillors, and Artificers, is convened to hear the answer."

"Of course it will be assent?"

"I know not--there are strange rumours; hitherto the Liberator has
concealed his sentiments."

At that instant a loud flourish of martial music announced the approach
of Rienzi. The crowd tumultuously divided, and presently, from the
Palace of the Capitol to the scaffold, passed Rienzi, still in complete
armour, save the helmet, and with him, in all the pomp of his episcopal
robes, Raimond of Orvietto.

As soon as Rienzi had ascended the platform, and was thus made visible
to the whole concourse, no words can suffice to paint the enthusiasm
of the scene--the shouts, the gestures, the tears, the sobs, the wild
laughter, in which the sympathy of those lively and susceptible children
of the South broke forth. The windows and balconies of the Palace were
thronged with the wives and daughters of the lesser Barons and more
opulent citizens; and Adrian, with a slight start, beheld amongst
them,--pale--agitated--tearful,--the lovely face of his Irene--a face
that even thus would have outshone all present, but for one by her side,
whose beauty the emotion of the hour only served to embellish. The dark,
large, and flashing eyes of Nina di Raselli, just bedewed, were fixed
proudly on the hero of her choice: and pride, even more than joy, gave a
richer carnation to her cheek, and the presence of a queen to her noble
and rounded form. The setting sun poured its full glory over the spot;
the bared heads--the animated faces of the crowd--the grey and vast mass
of the Capitol; and, not far from the side of Rienzi, it brought into
a strange and startling light the sculptured form of a colossal Lion of
Basalt, (The existent Capitol is very different from the building at
the time of Rienzi; and the reader must not suppose that the present
staircase, designed by Michael Angelo, at the base of which are two
marble lions, removed by Pius IV. from the Church of St. Stephen del
Cacco, was the staircase of the Lion of Basalt, which bears so stern a
connexion with the history of Rienzi. That mute witness of dark deeds is
no more.) which gave its name to a staircase leading to the Capitol.
It was an old Egyptian relic,--vast, worn, and grim; some symbol of a
vanished creed, to whose face the sculptor had imparted something of the
aspect of the human countenance. And this producing the effect
probably sought, gave at all times a mystic, preternatural, and fearful
expression to the stern features, and to that solemn and hushed repose,
which is so peculiarly the secret of Egyptian sculpture. The awe which
this colossal and frowning image was calculated to convey, was felt yet
more deeply by the vulgar, because "the Staircase of the Lion" was the
wonted place of the state executions, as of the state ceremonies.
And seldom did the stoutest citizen forget to cross himself, or feel
unchilled with a certain terror, whenever, passing by the place, he
caught, suddenly fixed upon him, the stony gaze and ominous grin of that
old monster from the cities of the Nile.

It was some minutes before the feelings of the assembly allowed
Rienzi to be heard. But when, at length, the last shout closed with a
simultaneous cry of "Long live Rienzi! Deliverer and King of Rome!" he
raised his hand impatiently, and the curiosity of the crowd procured a
sudden silence.

"Deliverer of Rome, my countrymen!" said he. "Yes! change not that
title--I am too ambitious to be a King! Preserve your obedience to your
Pontiff--your allegiance to your Emperor--but be faithful to your
own liberties. Ye have a right to your ancient constitution; but that
constitution needed not a king. Emulous of the name of Brutus, I am
above the titles of a Tarquin! Romans, awake! awake! be inspired with
a nobler love of liberty than that which, if it dethrones the tyrant of
today, would madly risk the danger of tyranny for tomorrow! Rome wants
still a liberator--never an usurper!--Take away yon bauble!"

There was a pause; the crowd were deeply affected--but they uttered no
shouts; they looked anxiously for a reply from their councillors, or
popular leaders.

"Signor," said Pandulfo di Guido, who was one of the Caporioni, "your
answer is worthy of your fame. But, in order to enforce the law, Rome
must endow you with a legal title--if not that of King, deign to accept
that of Dictator or of Consul."

"Long live the Consul Rienzi!" cried several voices.

Rienzi waved his hand for silence.

"Pandulfo di Guido! and you, honoured Councillors of Rome! such title is
at once too august for my merits, and too inapplicable to my functions.
I am one of the people--the people are my charge; the nobles can protect
themselves. Dictator and Consul are the appellations of patricians.
No," he continued after a short pause, "if ye deem it necessary, for
the preservation of order, that your fellow-citizen should be intrusted
with a formal title and a recognised power, be it so: but let it be
such as may attest the nature of our new institutions, the wisdom of the
people, and the moderation of their leaders. Once, my countrymen, the
people elected, for the protectors of their rights and the guardians of
their freedom, certain officers responsible to the people,--chosen from
the people,--provident for the people. Their power was great, but it was
delegated: a dignity, but a trust. The name of these officers with that
of Tribune. Such is the title that conceded, not by clamour alone,
but in the full Parliament of the people, and accompanied by, such
Parliament, ruling with such Parliament,--such is the title I will
gratefully accept."