The Piccinino, Volume 2 (of 2); The last of Aldinis

by George Sand

The ill success of this attempt did not discourage them. Carmelo was the soul of their lives. His shrewd leadership, his activity, the spirit of justice, now savage, now chivalrous in its manifestations, which governed his decisions with respect to them, and the immense prestige attached to his name and his person, made him no less sacred than necessary to them. It was the unanimous opinion among them, and among a great number of mountaineers, who, while they did not know him and were not immediately under his orders, were very glad to exchange favors with him and his troop, that when the Piccinino was dead, the bandit's profession would become impossible, and that there would be no other resource for the heroes of the mountain than to become beggars.

So Malacarne assembled a few of his comrades near Sperlinga, and succeeded in sending word to the two Piccininos that they must represent themselves as being very ill, in order to remain there as long as possible. It was by no means difficult to act upon the suggestion, for Verbum Caro was dangerously wounded, and in the desperate efforts he had made to burst his bonds during the engagement on the mountain, he had reopened his wound and lost so much blood that they had had to carry him to Sperlinga. Moreover, the campieri knew that it was of the utmost importance to take him to Catania alive, so that they might try to extort from him some information concerning Ninfo's murder and the whereabouts of his band.

As soon as Malacarne had made his arrangements, he bade his comrades, who were as yet only eight in number, to be ready for action, mounted the murdered messenger's horse, after clipping him so as to make him unrecognizable, and rode across the country in a straight line to Bel Passo, notifying all those persons upon whom he could rely, to take arms and await his return. Seconded by Fra Angelo, he passed six hours on Ætna, collecting other brigands, and at last, on the second night after the arrival of the prisoners at Sperlinga, a score or more of determined men, trained to daring enterprises of this sort, encamped at the foot of the cliff on which it stands.

Fra Angelo, the young Prince of Castro-Reale, and the faithful Magnani also arrived, to direct the expedition, the first as leader, for he knew the country generally and the particular locality better than anyone, having once before carried the paltry stronghold by assault under the Destatore, in better days; the other two as lieutenants, young noblemen of the patriotic party, forced to conceal their identity, but rich and powerful. So said Fra Angelo, who knew well that both poetry and prose are essential to stimulate men who are fighting against the laws.

When Fra Angelo and his friends left their mules, to plunge in among the steep cliffs of Sperlinga, they were able to count their men, and found that there were about twenty peasants posted here and there at some little distance—prudent auxiliaries who would come to their assistance as soon as the chances of war seemed to favor them; revengeful and bloodthirsty men, who had suffered many and grievous wrongs which they longed to avenge upon their enemies, and who knew how to do justice speedily and pitilessly when there was not too great a risk to be run.

Nevertheless, a part of the band was beginning to show signs of demoralization when the monk arrived. The lieutenant of the campieri, who had charge of the prisoners, had sent to Castro-Giovanni during the day to request reinforcements, which were likely to arrive with the dawn. This officer was disturbed by the non-appearance of the Swiss, whom he was awaiting with great impatience. The spirit manifested by the surrounding population did not tend to allay his fears. Perhaps he had detected some signs of activity among the brigands in the mountain, and of their evident understanding with certain people in the village. However that may be, he was afraid—which fact the monk looked upon as a pledge of victory—and he issued orders for departure on the following day, preferring, he said to see a miserable wretch like the Piccinino die on the highroad, rather than expose brave troops to the risk of being murdered in a fortress without gates or walls.

Perhaps the officer knew enough Latin to read, over the gateway of the ancient Norman castle in which he was intrenched, the famous motto which French tourists go thither to contemplate with love and gratitude:

Quod Sicilis placuit, Sperlinga sola negavit.[1] We know that Sperlinga was the only place which refused to surrender the Angevins at the time of the Sicilian Vespers. It is well enough for our compatriots to take pride therein; but it is certain that Sperlinga performed no act of patriotism; and that, if the officer of campieri looked upon the then government as existing in compliance with the popular desire of Sicily, he must have seen, in the negavit of Sperlinga, a constant threat which might well arouse a superstitious terror in his mind.[2]

The reinforcements from Castro-Giovanni were expected at any moment. The assailants would find themselves between two fires. The imaginations of some pictured the arrival of the Swiss also, and the Swiss soldier is the terror of the Sicilians. Hardened and implacable, those children of Helvetia, whose mercenary service under despotic governments is the shame of their fatherland, strike without distinction at everything they meet, and the campiere who hesitates to display less courage and ferocity than they, is the first to fall under their bullets.

Thus there was fear on both sides; but Fra Angelo triumphed over the hesitation of the brigands by a few words of rough eloquence and unparalleled temerity. After vehemently rebuking those who talked of waiting, he declared that he and his two princes would go alone to meet their death under the walls of the fort, so that it might be said throughout all Sicily: "Two patricians and a monk alone tried to effect the rescue of the Piccinino. The children of the mountain looked on and did not stir. Tyranny triumphs, the people of Sicily have become dastards!"