Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century

The occasion did not offer the two men much opportunity of conversation; but it was evident that they met with mutual pleasure and sympathy.

In these times when Italian honor and glory are a mockery, the handful of men called brigands, who have for seven years sustained themselves against one large army, two other armies of carabiniers, a part of another army of national guards, and an entire hostile population – that handful of men, call them what you will, is at least brave. If you rulers, instead of maintaining the disgraceful institution of the priest, had occupied yourselves in securing the instruction of the people, these very brigands, instead of becoming the instruments of priestly reaction, would at this moment have been in our ranks, teaching us how one stout fellow can fight twenty.

This, my kind word for the "honest" brigands, is not for the assassins, be it understood. And one little piece of comment upon you who sit in high places. When you assaulted the Roman walls – for religious purposes of course – robbing and slaying the poor people who thought you came as Mends, were you less brigands? No, you were worse than banditti – you were traitors.

But you will tell me, "those were republicans and revolutionists, men who trouble the world." And what were you but troublers of the world, and false traitors? This difference exists between your majesties and the bandit: he robs, but seldom kills, while you have not only robbed, but stained your hands for plunder's sake in innocent blood!

Pardon, reader, that this digression has left you in the midst of a funeral, and that the writer has too passionately diverged from his path to glance at brigandage on the large as well as the small scale.

When the funeral party reached the cemetery, the remains of the dead were lowered into a grave, over which no voice spoke a word of eulogy. With all the will to effect good, the action of this young life had been cut short by a premature and rash death. What could be said of the blossom of noble qualities to which time was denied to bring forth their fruits?

CHAPTER LXI. THE NARRATIVE

We will leave our friends occupied in consoling the afflicted Irene for the loss of her brother, whom she had sincerely loved.

The last of a proud race! This thought would press upon the mind of the fair lady, who, despite her willingness to form a plebeian alliance, still valued, as we have seen, the high rank of her family.

Of the personal fortune which came to her through her brother's death she had not thought, for she was of too generous a nature to mingle an idea of interest with the life or death of a beloved object. The prince's family property, besides, which was in the Roman territory, had been confiscated by those worthy servants of God whose possessions are "not of this world."

It was not until the friends had returned from the funeral that Attilio and Muzio had consulted with the General about imparting to his sister the knowledge of the fatal catastrophe. The General, calling Orazio and his wife into his room, then first informed them gently of the sad occurrence.

Gasparo, who, with the exception of Irene, grieved the most, found some relief to his sorrow in the newly-acquired society of his former lieutenant. He was also full of the desire to hear the adventures of the man whom he had thought lost forever. The two ci-devant banditti closely shut themselves up in Gasparo's room at the Victoria Hotel, at first conversing eagerly in interrogations and answers, nearly all monosyllabic, oratory not being the forte of brigands, who are more accustomed to deeds than words. After a time, the lieutenant began the following consecutive narrative: -

"After you had informed me, capitano mio, that you were tired of a forest life, and felt disposed to return to a private one, I continued my usual mode of existence, without ever deviating from the plan of action you had enjoined, which was to despoil the rich and the powerful, and to relieve the needy and wretched. Our companions, formed in your school, gave me little cause to reprove them; but if one failed in duty, I punished him without pity; and thus, by the grace of God, we lived for several years. The charms of womankind were always the rock on which our hearts split; and well you know it, capitano."

At these words, Gasparo began pointing to his snow-white mustache, doubtless remembering more than one gallant adventure in his career of peril.

The lieutenant continued: "You remember that Nanna, the girl that I adored, and on whose account I was so much persecuted by her parents? Don't for a moment suppose that that dear creature betrayed me; no, her soul was pure as an angel's." And the bold bandit chief put his hand to his eyes.

"She is dead, then!" exclaimed Gasparo.

"She is dead," repeated his companion; and a long silence followed.

Presently Marzio continued, "One day my Nanna, who was not well, had remained to pass the day in Marcello's house, where lived that poor Camilla, who had been violated and driven mad by the Cardinal – . As I had to accompany my men on an important affair, the dwelling was attacked in the night, and my treasure carried off to Rome.

"I was maddened, but not a stone did I leave unturned till I had discovered the place in which they had hidden Nanna. At last I learnt, through friends in that city, that the poor child was in the convent of St. Francis there, and that they had condemned her to serve the nuns, and never to see the light again.

"My wife in the service of nuns, in the service of betrayed young women and of old foxes! 'I will give you a servant!' I said to myself; 'and by heaven, the devil shall have the convent and the wretches it holds.'

"The night following I entered Rome alone; it seemed to me a cowardly action to have companions in an undertaking which concerned none but myself.

"I bought a large bundle of dried branches in the Piazza Navona. I deposited them in a tavern, and waited till it grew late. Towards eleven, o'clock, just before the house closed, I took my burden and hurried off towards 'St. Francis.' Who can prevent a poor wretch from carrying a bundle of wood home? Besides, Rome has one good point, which is that at night no one goes about for fear of the thieves, who are permitted, by the liberality of the priestly government, to do just as they please, as long as they do not interfere in politics.

"Having deposited my bundle at the gate of St. Francis, I pressed it closely in, prepared a box of lights to strike, and gave a searching look up and down the road.

"As will be easily understood, after the door was burnt, there would still remain the gratings; which would leave me pulling a very long face, and with little done. I was, therefore, obliged to make a noise, to attract the attention of those within. I then crossed the little square, and hid myself in a doorway, awaiting the appearance of some one, or at least a patrol. I had not long to wait, for after a few minutes I heard the measured tread of the patrol. Then, with that swiftness of foot which you know me to possess – "

Here Gasparo put in: "I should think I did! I remember that lord bishop who, having seen us at a distance on the road to Civita Vecchia, turned his horses, and set them in a gallop towards Rome, when you, in about the same time which I take to tell it, were already at the horses' heads, and had stopped the carriage."

"And what a take that was, captain!" said the lieutenant. "How we did enjoy ourselves! how prodigal we were with our money for some time afterwards – I mean with the proceeds of the poverty of the descendant of the Apostles." But let us return to our story.

"I flew to the bundle of wood, set it on fire, and returned to my hiding-place. In a few minutes a great blaze lit the convent gate, and soon afterwards we had a sight equal to that which the crater of a volcano shows. And the police? The sorriest rabble everywhere, but in no place have they reached such scoundrelism as in Rome. The police, naturally cowards and slow of movement, instead of running to the spot to extinguish the flames, began shouting and making a tremendous noise to arouse the neighborhood. Near the fire they never went until a goodly number of people appeared at the doors, and then hurried to the scene of action.

"'It is now my turn,' said I to myself, and I rushed into the mêlée. The nuns should have been pleased with such a champion to deliver them, surrounded as they were by a company of roughs.

"Matters could not, however, have progressed better. At the clamor from without, the nuns were not slow to awake, and the gratings flew open. They flew to the rescue themselves, with tubs, pails, basins of water – in fact, with any utensil they could lay their hands on. After pretending to assist in extinguishing the external flames, but with my eyes fixed on the interior, seeing all parties well occupied, I sprang in to the assistance of the nuns in their sanctuary. No sooner within, than I cast a searching glance npon the crowd of females assembled, and to the oldest, who appeared the Superior, I addressed myself. Grasping her arm, I exclaimed, 'Come with me!' I found more resistance in the old lady than I expected. At first she struggled, and would only walk by compulsion, collecting all her strength to oppose me: then she began to scream, and I was obliged to take her in my arms and to cover her face with a handkerchief.

"I was getting away from the crowd all the time, and arriving before the door of a cell which I found open, I entered with my burden. There was a light in the room, and the bed had been occupied. I laid the abbess npon it, and locked the door.

"She was astonished but not alarmed. I never saw a demon with such courage. 'Where is Nanna?' I began, in a way to startle her. No answer. 'Where is Nanna?' I repeated in a louder tone still. No answer. 'I will make you find your tongue, witch!' I cried; and drawing this bit of steel from my belt, I made it glitter before her eyes. Still no answer."

"By the Virgin," said Gasparo, "these abbesses are all alike, real demoniacs. At the defense of Rome in 1849, when it was needful to pass through the convent of the Sacred Heart to occupy the walls, they kept me waiting with my company at the gate for hours without opening it. When the abbess received the Government order for us to pass, she tore it in pieces. It was only when we began to knock down the doors with our axes that she allowed us to enter."

"Such was this one," recommenced Marzio. "I was not in a humor to play; I wanted Nanna, and a hundred lives such as the one before me would certainly not have stopped me from carrying out my object. Seizing her with one hand, clenching my dagger with the other, I was just touching her throat – not with the point of my dagger, for fear it should slip, but with a hairpin from her cap – I could easily see that the lady had no intention to reach martyrdom, as she was already beginning with-

"'For God's sake – '

"'My Nanna,' I cried, 'or I will send you to keep Satan company.'

"'For God's sake let me go!'

"'I released her head. She breathed hard, and passed her hand over her forehead.

"'You ask for a young girl of a good family, who came from Rome, and who has been a fortnight in the convent?'

"'I believe her to be the one I seek,' I replied.

"'Then I will lead you to her, on the one condition that you will cause no scandal in this sacred house.'

"'I desire nothing but to take my wife with me,' I answered.

"When somewhat recovered, she rose from the bed and said, 'Come with me.' I followed her for some time, and arrived at a dark corridor. We descended several staircases, and by the light of a taper which I had lit (I always carried a taper with me), I discovered an iron-barred door.

"'Poor Nanna,' I thought; 'what crime has the child committed that she should be thrown in this infernal den?'

"Having reached the bolted door, the abbess drew forth a key, and placed it in the lock. She turned it, and motioned to me to pull the door towards me, it being too heavy for her to move. I did what I was desired, without for a moment losing sight of my guide, whose company was too interesting for me to lose. On opening the door, I made the old lady enter first, and then followed. No sooner was I within, than a young dishevelled woman sprang on my neck, and clung to me desperately.

"'Oh, Marzio!' she exclaimed; and a flood of tears from my Nanna bathed my face.

"I am too much of a brigand not to take my precautions in an emergency. Though beyond myself with joy at the recovery of my darling, I nevertheless did not cease to keep my eyes on the old wretch, who, without a strict watch, would undoubtedly have escaped us.

"When the first moment of emotion had passed, clasping my treasure by the hand, I closed the door, and asked if there was another in her cell. She answered 'No.' The abbess, who had heard my question, said-

"'There is another door, and you had better leave by that, so as not to meet the sisters, who are doubtless searching for me now.'

"Here a fresh incident arose. Another young girl came forward in haste, and interrupted the discourse of the abbess. I had seen something moving in the darkest corner of the prison cell, but pre-occupation and the circumstances of the moment had prevented my thinking of it. All at once I perceived a young girl somewhere about the age of my Nanna. She hastened towards me, saying, with a voice of emotion: —

"'Surely you will not leave me alone in this prison. Oh, sir, I will follow Nanna through life and to death itself!'

"'Yes, Marzio,' added Nanna, 'for heaven's sake don't let us leave my unhappy friend in this wretched abode. She was destined by the abbess to seem my companion, and to act as a spy; but instead of that she has been an angel of comfort to me. She was charged to sound me, to gain information about you, to learn all she could of your companions – in fact, every particular, and then to report all to the abbess.'

"'So then things are carried on thus,' thought I, 'in these laboratories of falsehood and 'hypocrisy.'

"'She was charged to watch me, threaten me, torment me, in fact, in case I refused to divulge your hiding-places, your habitual rendezvous, your projects; but instead of that, she told me every thing, consoled, protected, reassured me, and said that she would rather die than injure me, or cause me any trouble.

"'Besides, yesterday, she saved me from the insults and violence of an infamous prelate, who introduced himself into this cell (no doubt by the help of that old wretch), and who even offered me bribes if I would listen to his wicked proposals. She saved me by rushing in and uttering loud cries.

"'In vain did they promise her liberty if she would induce me to comply with their wishes, but nothing have they ever been able to obtain. During the day they compel us to do the vilest work of the cloister, and at night they shut us up in this unclean den.'

"Tears again flowed on the lovely face of my dear one, while she uttered these words, and I assure you, captain, that my hand instinctively touched my dagger, with a wild wish to revenge Nanna's wrongs.

"I don't know how I restrained myself, for I was furious; I could have annihilated the vile being before me, but it was well I did not, for without her I should never again have seen the light of heaven. 'Where is the second door you speak of? whither does it lead?' I demanded.

"'It leads outside the convent,' she replied; 'remove that iron bed which stands in the corner, and I will show you.'

"I removed it, but saw nothing.

"'Try to stir the bricks where the mortar looks damp.'

"Taking hold of an iron bar from the bedstead, I began to move the bricks indicated. Finally I discovered a ring in a piece of wood, which showed the existence of a trap-door. I lifted the trap, and was surprised to find a staircase below. 'I must arrange the order of march,' said I to myself, 'and make the old witch the leader.' I then desired my young companions to follow, and giving one taper with little ceremony to the abbess, said to her, 'Forward!'

"'This then,' thought I, 'is the secret stair; and how many black deeds have been committed in these labyrinths? Ah! poor deluded people, who fancy you are sending your daughters to be educated in asylums of purity when you place your children in convents!'"

CHAPTER LXII. THE NARRATIVE OF MARZIO CONTINUED

Marzio continued: "The old abbess walked in front, I followed, and the young girls brought up the rear. We descended about fifty steps, and entered a rather spacious passage, which soon led us into a large room. I suppose it to have been large, for, with the help of the feeble taper, I could scarcely distinguish the walls. We had gone about ten paces, when I seemed to hear lamentations. I stopped, in order to listen better, but when I recollected myself, and was moving on, looking forward to my guide, behold I was in utter darkness.

"My God! I sprang forward with such a leap as a tiger might have taken, when from its hiding-place in the forest it rushes on its prey. Darkness was all I caught. In vain I turned round and round, my arms stretched as far as they could extend, in the hope of meeting that woman-fiend. I darted against the wall, and kept following it, at the risk of taking the skin off my hands, but I found no door.

"At length, after feeling about for some time, and being almost reduced to despair, I leaned heavily against the wall, and felt it give way with my weight.

"Hope re-awoke; I rubbed my hands over that part of the wall, and found to my surprise that it was wooden, which fact had escaped me in my previous investigation. I pushed hard against the planks, and then felt something move, as if a door on its hinges; at the same time a rush of offensive pestilential air entered by the aperture. I turned my head away to escape the putrid odor. The moans which I had before heard again smote my ear, and calmed my agitation with wonder and pity.

"I thought of my companions, and remembered a few matches which I had in my pocket, but which I had forgotten in my excitement. I struck one of them, and looking at what I had supposed to be a door, found that it was a turntable, and, Eureka! at the bottom lay my taper, which the old wretch had dropped in her flight.

"When I had rekindled my taper, I found my companions near me, trembling like leaves.

"'Courage!' said I, and threw myself into the adjoining apartment, they following, in the hope of overtaking the abbess, who had doubtless escaped this way. I hastened on, but, great God! what was my horror! against the wall of the room through which I was flying, hung several human beings by the neck, the waist, and the arms, all but one dead, and more or less decomposed. The solitary survivor was a young man, once of a fine form, but now an emaciated phantom. He was wildly gazing at me, with deep, dark, open eyes, that seemed ready to burst from their sockets. He had ceased to moan, conscious that I had discovered and was approaching him. Whatever the danger of my own position, I could not leave that victim without making some attempt to liberate him. I approached, and kissed him on the forehead; I always feel drawn towards the suffering. Sorely the Almighty inspires one with this sympathy, which is not imparted by the poisonous breath of the priest! – Well, well, let them call me a brigand!

"Yes, I kissed the unhappy creature's forehead, dropping sweat, yet burning like a coal. But what could I do for him? his chains were soldered into the wall, and those walls were massive. I looked among the dead, to see if I could find any iron implement with which to excavate the wall, or to break the chains. Horrible! in every direction were instruments of torture – bedsteads, stretchers, pincers, ropes, gridirons, etc., 'for the mortification of the flesh,' as the priests say, but which fiends alone could have invented, one would think, for the torment of mankind.

"Nanna and Maria – such was the name of Nanna's companion – had also drawn near the unhappy youth, and endeavored, but in vain, to help him to escape from his frightful position. Happily for us all, Nanna startled me with the exclamation, 'Oh, a key!' and truly, being very sharp-sighted, she had discovered a key in the loose mortar.

"Trying the key in the padlock of the chains, I found it fitted, and while the rusty lock yielded to my hand, my heart dilated. I was at the last chain, it fell, and I was freeing the youth's stiff limbs, when Nanna clasped me by the arm, and timidly pointed to a light in the direction of the wheel-door.

"I left my liberated companion, and in an instant stood at the entrance. No sooner was I there than I perceived one of the already-mentioned patrols, who was turning round the door, with his dark lantern in one hand, his pistol in the other. Shrinking into as small a space as possible, I stood back watching him. When his startled eyes were fixed on my face, which did not look pleasant at that moment, I had already grasped him by his right with my left hand, and my dagger was sheathed in his body. He fell dead on the ground. You know, captain, that I am an enemy of blood-shedding, and that I never have spilt any except in self-defense; but in that instance there was no time for consideration. I knew there were others following the first, and I was one alone. The youth I had liberated showed signs of regaining power of exertion, and my brave female companions had succeeded in separating two bars from a torture-bedstead, and stood behind me, ready to help. The situation was altered, yet the dead man, although I had dispatched him noiselessly, had not expired without a cry. His companions, however, were frightened, and effected their escape. By keeping in absolute silence we could hear their steps in the distance. I repeat, there was no time to lose, or to hold councils of war before deciding on our course. To leave by the way we had entered was madness; still what other path remained? We all knew, however, that Roman catacombs have many outlets – this instance was not an exception.

"A look at my new companion confirmed me in my opinion that he was not useless to us, and without uttering a word, touching his heart with his hand, he made me understand that I could rely on him to follow me through all dangers.

"By this time daybreak must be at hand, and, doubtless, preparations were making in the convent to secure our capture. The likeliest conjecture was, that there were armed men placed at every outlet.

"The addition of the rescued man was very valuable to us all. He was not only acquainted with the subterranean path, but at a short distance he gathered up some torches, and distributed one to each of us. This was very useful, because my taper was almost extinguished, and the lantern which I had taken from the dead patrol, had not sufficient oil to last during the underground journey which was about to commence. To the right of the spot where the young man found the torches, he pointed out to me a light, and said, 'That opening leads to the garden of the convent, and once passed, we are out of danger of being intercepted.

"On we went, I really think for two hours, although we were in a subterranean road, cut in the hard clay, of which you know, captain, our Roman undersoil is largely composed: and how many of those catacombs have we not visited together!

"Young and active, our two companions were always near us. I frequently asked if they were tired, or if they required support. 'Oh, no; go on! We will follow you, if it be to death,' answered both girls.

"'There is the light!' finally exclaimed Tito, for such was the name of the youth, and truly before us appeared a bright point in the distance. 'By that gate we shall enter the woods of Guido Castle, whence they dragged me, to conduct me to a seminary in Rome, the focus of all immorality and vileness. Accursed be the hypocrites!'

"Arrived at the end of the subterranean road, Tito began to clear away some branches of lentils which obstructed the gate and went out, looking first in all directions. 'Safe!' he at last exclaimed, 'safe, so far – our persecutors have not arrived!'

"When I got out with my companions, I wondered how such a narrow and almost imperceptible opening, when covered with branches, could be the passage to such spacious catacombs. 'Guido Castle!' said I to Tito. 'Not far from here must be the dwelling of the shepherd poet!'