Through the most fertile plain that Europe can display, amid the olive and the fig, the loaded vine and the ripening corn, with on one side a vast and interminable view over lands laughing in the richest gifts of nature, and on the other mounting up into the sky the gigantic mountains which separate that bright land from all the rest of earth, passed on a multitude of those savage warriors, who were destined to change the rich plains of Lombardy from the garden of the world to the most desolate spot of this quarter of the globe.
But, alas! not alone did those fierce warriors take their way, unaccompanied by any of the children of the soil. On the contrary, closely following their march, appeared a body which contained within itself sad samples of all the vice, the weakness, the baseness of the land. There was the skilful engineer, whose warlike but not perilous art provided the means of destruction for other men's hands to use; there was the theoretic strategist, whose pen prepared the plans of battles that he could not fight; there the sculptor and the limner, ready ever to transmit unto posterity the features of those whose actions commanded admiration, though not applause; there the thousand fawning slaves, ready to forget all ties, so long as they could cover baser bonds by the golden ties of interest. Besides all these were the captives, not chained, indeed, but dragged along by fetters as powerful as rings of iron, selected and preserved from slaughtered myriads for a fate worse than death itself, on account of those qualities which adorn and beautify the blessed state of freedom. Beauty, skill, strength, and activity: these were the sad gifts that purchased slavery.
In the midst of these--herself a captive, though surrounded by her own slaves, now all in bondage to another--was borne along the fair Dalmatian girl, whose fate has occupied so much of our attention. Her way was cleared by parties of the Huns appointed expressly for that purpose; and honours, too queenlike, awaited her wherever she paused. In many a place she found garlands strewed in her way, and tutored rejoicings greeted her at every resting-place. But oh! the coldest silence, the most icy indifference would have conveyed more warmth to her heart than those demonstrations of a distinction which she feared. Seldom, very seldom did she raise her eyes; but, poring earnestly on a book before her, seemed buried in contemplations from which no external objects could awaken her. Twice only during the second day's journey from Verona did she look up, and then her attention was called forcibly towards too terrible a sight by the wild ejaculations of the attendants who surrounded her. On either side of the road appeared, when she did look up, a range of trees, which had been planted to afford a pleasant shelter to the weary wayfarer from the burning rays of the summer's sun. But now, fixed upon those trees, were immense crosses of wood, on each of which, extended by nails in the hands and feet, was seen the dead body of a human being, contorted with the agonies of a painful death. Nor had one nation alone nor one country furnished the victims for that awful sacrifice; for there were seen the dark-visaged Hun, the fair-haired Frank, the large-limbed Goth, the strong-featured Roman--all, in short, against whom any charge of deceit or infidelity towards Attila and the Hunnish nation could be brought, were arrayed in fearful assemblage to terrify the passer-by.
Ildica gazed on them when her attention was forced towards them; and then, clasping her hands, she looked up on high, while her lips murmured woman's prayer for patience under all the sad scenes which she was destined to act in and behold. Then again, casting down her eyes, she strove to avoid, as far as possible, such fearful sights, hoping that brighter days and more joyful objects might come, and blot them out for ever from the tablets of memory, or soften the harsh lines so that they should be no longer painful. But still, as they marched onward, fresh scenes of desolation and horror were forced upon her sight, and, whether she would or not, the indignant heart swelled up, and a voice within her bosom exclaimed, "Oh for a warrior's soul and a warrior's might! Oh for an ancient Roman's undaunted energy, to stem this dark and ruinous torrent in its course, to drive back the destroyer of my native land, to snatch the bloody scourge out of the hand of fate, and hurl it for ever into the gulf of death!"
At length a large and magnificent city appeared before her; and Ildica prepared her eyes to behold the same utter destruction which she had beheld in every other town. Her astonishment was great, however, on entering Mediolanum,[[5]] to behold the inhabitants pursuing their ordinary occupations; the shops opened, and their wares exposed in the very presence of those ruthless barbarians who had come to spoil and desolate the land. It is true, the great body of Attila's army was encamped without its walls, and that but a few thousand of the Huns were permitted to enter the city; but still, with its gates in their possession, and its walls covered by their troops, Milan was at the mercy of the Hunnish multitude, and nothing but the awful name of Attila saved it from destruction.
The troops of Onegisus entered not the gates of the city; but the litter of Ildica was borne forward through the principal streets, and at length stopped before a magnificent pile of building, which was, in fact, the royal palace of Milan. Those who accompanied her waited for directions from some one within; and, after a brief pause, the litter was again carried on into the interior of the palace. At the foot of the great staircase it was set down, and Ildica with her attendants was bade to follow on foot. From room to room, from hall to hall, from gallery to gallery, she was led onward by several of the barbarian chiefs, beholding, as she advanced, with wonder, not unmixed with pleasure, that, amid all the splendour which that building displayed, amid all the monuments of art which it contained, no act of violence had been perpetrated by the hand of the barbarians, but that there every object remained untouched, or at least uninjured. At one spot, indeed, she beheld a painter busily employed in labouring with the brush upon the walls, but he was a Roman; and on looking nearer she perceived that he was making a complete change in one of the pictures, which represented some barbarian kings kneeling at the feet of a Roman emperor.
"What doest thou, my friend?" she asked.
"I am working at the command of the mighty Attila," replied the painter, "in order to change this picture so as to suit the changes of the time. When I have done, two Roman emperors will be seen kneeling at the feet of a Scythian king."
Ildica walked on without reply, feeling bitterly in her heart the truth of the sad lesson which Attila thus taught.
At the farther extremity of the building she found the apartments assigned to her; and in a moment or two after she had entered them, and when the Huns who conducted her had withdrawn, Neva, whom she had not beheld for many days, approached, and took her fondly in her arms. The girl's countenance was sad, however, and while she gazed upon Ildica the tears rose in her eyes.