Stories from Wagner

by J. Walker McSpadden; Richard Wagner

About the middle of the fourteenth century, Rome had fallen into the hands of several nobles, or barons, who fought among themselves and cared no whit for the rights of the common people. Chief among these barons were the rival houses of Orsini and Colonna. Each maintained strong retinues of armed men and lived in fortified castles; and as there was no real government to hold them in check they became a menace to the whole city. Shopkeepers hardly dared to open their places in broad daylight, lest they should be robbed. Merchants were afraid to send goods from one place to another, lest they should be seized. And the worst was that women and little children were in continual danger from the street brawls and sudden excursions of these cruel and lawless men.

So you may see how desperate was the condition of things at Rome and how sadly they needed someone to restore peace and safety. Even the authority of the Pope was disregarded, and he had to flee for protection to the city of Avignon.

But there was one young man, risen from the ranks of the people, who as he grew up was filled with noble ambition. He saw the distress of all his fellow-townsmen and he longed to avenge their wrongs and make the city free and prosperous as it was in the olden days. This desire was finally roused to a fever heat by a sad accident which happened within his own family. His little brother, a beautiful child with curly hair and engaging ways, was playing one day in the open street when a small company of soldiers belonging to the Orsini house dashed by. They were met by others of the Colonna faction, and in one of their usual fierce fights the little boy was slain. Yet the young lord who had chanced to do this dreadful thing rode away without a word of regret.

From that time forth Rienzi—for that was the name of the people's champion—worked constantly among the people, striving to rouse them to action. His fiery eloquence, his earnestness, and the justice of the cause, brought him a constantly increasing band of followers, until at last he had practically all the common people secretly enlisted under his banner and only awaiting the signal to rise against the barons and regain their liberties. And the people loved their enthusiastic young leader. They were willing to follow him anywhere and give him any title he might see fit to assume. But he chose the simple name of "Tribune" in memory of the former Tribunes who had led the people; and his earnest prayer was that he might prove worthy of it.

After the tragic death of his brother, Rienzi's affections centred in a sister, Irene, a fair young girl just reaching womanhood, who was no less devoted to her brother than he to her. A fine picture they made, sauntering along some quiet path together, he with his dark hair and dreamy eyes, she with her light hair and smile like an imprisoned sunbeam. Rienzi, indeed, was a dreamer and would have liked nothing better than his books or a stroll like this by the side of a stream, had not the stern call of his country roused him to heroic things. But the fine stuff that dreamers are made of—a trusting confidence in all men—was the one thing which unsuited him for leadership. This, however, you will see for yourself as we go on with our story.

While Irene was strolling alone one day, she had the misfortune to attract the notice of one of the Orsini noblemen. He fell in love with her, but, knowing that she would scorn him, he did not attempt to win her in an honourable way. Instead, he planned to carry her away by force from the shelter of her own home! This was a wicked and audacious thing to do; but the fact that such plots had actually succeeded before shows how dreadful were the times when Rienzi lived.

Accordingly, one dark night, an armed band stole quietly along under the shadow of the houses until they reached the one where dwelt Rienzi and his sister Irene. They were wise enough to choose a night when Rienzi was absent addressing the people, so Irene was left alone and helpless. Quickly placing their scaling-ladders to the windows of the house, they soon broke into it and seized the poor girl. Despite her frantic outcries and appeals for help, they were on the point of carrying her down the ladder and making good their escape, when a lucky intervention occurred. A young man bearing the arms of Colonna dashed up with a band of followers. Seeing his ancient foes, he lost no time in attacking them at the foot of the ladders. The Orsini, though taken by surprise, fought stoutly, and the noise of the conflict brought many people running to the scene. But meanwhile the leader of the Colonna forces found means to rescue the fainting girl and carry her to one side to a place of safety.

Among those whom the tumult attracted was the Papal Legate. He came into the midst of the throng and besought them to cease fighting in the name of religion and of the church, since they paid no heed to the law. But the nobles laughed at him, and would probably have resumed the fight, had not a commanding voice cried out, "Hold!"

It was Rienzi, who had just come. Addressing the people, who were his followers, he bade them respect the law; while he prayed the barons also to go quietly to their homes. The people cheered his words and drew back. The barons shrugged their shoulders at this champion of the people, and were fain to continue hostilities, but the company about Rienzi was now so large that they yielded and sheathed their weapons. But they agreed among themselves to meet on the morrow outside the city gates, where they could renew the contest without interruption.

No sooner had the barons withdrawn than Rienzi's followers began to urge him to do what he had so long been planning—strike a decisive blow against the barons and make the city free. Rienzi saw that this would be a good opportunity. He had heard the barons plan to withdraw outside the city. Now, when they went forth to fight on the morrow, why not close the gates against them, and not let them in again until they had sworn to obey the laws?