Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf

by George W. M. Reynolds

Yes; this was the news that suddenly spread confusion and dismay throughout Florence, the news which told how the Ottoman fleet, for some days past moored off the port of Leghorn, had vomited forth legions, and how the formidable force was approaching at a rapid rate, under the command of the grand vizier in person, the seraskier and sipehsalar of the armies of the sultan!

The moment these things were bruited abroad in the city, Demetrius, the Greek, fled secretly; for he too well understood that his treacherous intentions had, in some unaccountable manner, transpired, and reached the ears of Ibrahim Pasha. Nisida was perfectly astounded; and, for the first time in her life, she felt her energies paralyzed—all her powers of combination suddenly laid prostrate. As for Francisco, he could not help thinking that the invasion of Italy by the Turks was connected with the succor so mysteriously, but confidently promised by Wagner; although he was not only ignorant of the relationship subsisting between the grand vizier and his beloved Flora, but was even unaware of the fact that this high functionary was the same Ibrahim whose prisoner he had been for a few hours on a former occasion in the Island of Rhodes.

The council of state assembled to deliberate upon the proper course which should be adopted at so critical a moment; but when the resources of Florence and the means of resisting the invaders were scrutinized, when it was discovered that there were not three thousand soldiers to defend the place, nor arms sufficient to equip more than fifteen hundred volunteers in addition to the regular force, all idea of attempting to make a stand against an army which was in reality twenty thousand strong, but which the exaggerations of fear had trebled in amount, was ultimately abandoned.

The sun went down, and was succeeded by no illuminations that night. Florence was in mourning. A spell had fallen upon the City of Flowers; her streets were deserted; and within the houses, those who possessed wealth were busily engaged in concealing their gold and jewels in cellars, holes dug in the ground, or at the bottom of wells. The general consternation was terrific indeed; and the solemn stillness which prevailed throughout the town so lately full of animation and happiness was even more dreadful than that which had accompanied the plague two centuries before.

It was near midnight when messengers from the grand vizier, who was now within three miles’ march of the city, arrived at the western gate, and demanded admission, that they might obtain an immediate audience of the duke. The request was directly complied with, and the envoys were conducted to the palazzo, where the prince immediately assembled the council of state to receive them, himself presiding.

The audience was in other respects strictly private; but the nature of the interview was soon proved to have been most unexpectedly pacific; for two hours after the reception of the envoys, criers proceeded throughout the city, proclaiming the joyful news that the grand vizier had of his own accord proposed such terms as the council of state had not hesitated to accept.

Thus, at two o’clock in the morning, were the Florentines at first alarmed by hearing the monotonous voices of the criers breaking upon the solemn stillness; but their fear changed into gladness ineffable, ere those functionaries had uttered a dozen words of the proclamation which they were intrusted to make.

What the terms were did not immediately transpire; but two circumstances which occurred ere it was daybreak, and which, though conducted with considerable secrecy, nevertheless soon became generally known—these circumstances, we say, afforded ample scope for comment and gossip.

The first was the occupation of the Riverola Palace by the Ottoman soldiers who had accompanied Demetrius as an escort, and whom he had left in Florence; and the second was the fact that two females, closely muffled up, were removed from the prison of the inquisition, and delivered over to the charge of the grand vizier’s messengers, who conveyed them out of the city.

But the curiosity excited by these incidents was absorbed in the general anxiety that was evinced by the Florentine people to feast their eyes with the grand, interesting, and imposing spectacle which the dawn of day revealed to their view.