Noble example has a power far beyond that of argument or eloquence to rouse the people; and the erstwhile abject slaves awoke at length from their long bondage. "Death, death to the French!" they cried; and the cry—say the historians of the time—reechoed, like the voice of God, through the whole country, and found an answer in every heart.
Above the corpse of Drouet were heaped those of the slain on either side. The crowd expanded itself, closed in, and swayed hither and thither in wild confusion. The Sicilians, with sticks, stones, and knives, rushed with desperate ferocity upon their fully armed opponents. They sought for them and hunted them down. Fearful tragedies were enacted amid the preparations for festivity, and the overthrown tables were drenched with blood. The people displayed their strength and conquered. The struggle was brief, and great the slaughter of the Sicilians; but of the French there were two hundred—and two hundred fell!
Breathless, covered with blood, brandishing the plundered weapons, and proclaiming the insult and its vengeance, the insurgents rushed toward the tranquil city, "Death to the French!" they shouted, and as many as they found were put to the sword. The example, the words, the contagion of passion, in an instant aroused the whole people. In the heat of the tumult Roger Mastrangelo, a nobleman, was chosen—or constituted himself—their leader. The multitude continued to increase; dividing into troops they scoured the streets, burst open doors, searched every nook, every hiding-place, and shouting "Death to the French!" smote them and slew them, while those too distant to strike added to the tumult by their applause. On the outbreak of this sudden uproar the Justiciary had taken refuge in his strong palace; the next moment it was surrounded by an enraged multitude crying aloud for his death; they demolished the defences and rushed furiously in, but the Justiciary escaped them. Favored by the confusion and the closing darkness, he succeeded, though wounded in the face, in mounting his horse unobserved, with only two attendants, and fled with all speed. Meanwhile the slaughter continued with increased ferocity; even the darkness of night failed to arrest it, and it was resumed the next day more furiously than ever. Nor did it finally cease because the thirst for vengeance was slaked, but because victims were wanting to appease it. Two thousand French perished in this first outbreak. Even Christian burial was denied them, but pits were afterward dug to receive their despised remains, and tradition still points out a column surmounted by an iron cross, raised by compassionate piety on one of these spots, probably long after the perpetration of the deed of vengeance.
Tradition, moreover, relates that the sound of a word, like the Shibboleth of the Hebrews, was the cruel test by which the French were distinguished in the massacre; and that, if there were found a suspicious or unknown person, he was compelled, with a sword to his throat, to pronounce the word ciciri, and the slightest foreign accent was the signal for his death. Forgetful of their own character, and as if stricken by fate, the gallant warriors of France neither fled nor united nor defended themselves. They unsheathed their swords and presented them to their assailants, imploring, as if in emulation of each other, to be the first to die. Of one common soldier it is recorded that, having concealed himself behind a wainscot, and being dislodged at the sword's point, he resolved not to die unavenged, and, springing forth with a wild cry upon the ranks of his enemies, slew three of them before he himself perished. The insurgents broke into the convents of the Minorites and Preaching Friars, and slaughtered all the monks whom they recognized as French. Even the altars afforded no protection; tears and prayers were alike unheeded; neither old men, women, nor infants were spared. The ruthless avengers of the ruthless massacre of Agosta swore to root out the seed of the French oppressors throughout the whole of Sicily; and this vow they cruelly fulfilled, slaughtering infants at their mothers' breasts and after them the mothers themselves, not sparing even pregnant women, but, with a horrible refinement of cruelty, ripping up the bodies of Sicilian women who were with child by French husbands, and dashing against the stones the fruit of the mingled blood of the oppressors and the oppressed. This general massacre of all who spoke the same language, and these heinous acts of cruelty, have caused the Sicilian Vespers to be classed among the most infamous of national crimes.
The very atrocity of the Vespers proved the salvation of Sicily, by cutting off all possibility of compromise. On that same bloodstained night of the 31st of March, the people of Palermo assembled in parliament, and, divided between the triumph of vengeance and terror at their own daring act, advanced still more decidedly in the path they had chosen. They abolished monarchy, and resolved to establish a commonwealth under the protection of the Church of Rome. They were moved to this determination by deadly hatred against Charles and his government, and the recollection of the stern rule of the Swabian dynasty on the one hand, and, on the other, by grateful remembrance of the liberty enjoyed in 1254; by the example of the Tuscan and Lombard republics, and by the natural pride of a powerful city, which having freed itself from a detested yoke confided in its own strength. The name of the Church was added in order to disarm the wrath of the Pope, to tempt his ambition, or to justify the rebellion under the pretext that in driving out their more immediate but criminal ruler they contemplated no infraction of loyalty to the suzerain from whom he held his power. Roger Mastrangelo, Henry Barresi, and Niccoloso of Ortoleva (knights), and Niccolo of Ebdemonia were proclaimed captains of the people with five counsellors. By the glare of torchlight on the bloody ground, amid the noise and throng of the armed multitude, and with all the sublime pomp of tumult, the republican magistrates were inaugurated. Trumpets and Moorish kettle-drums sounded, and thousands upon thousands of voices uttered the joyous cry of "The Republic and Liberty!" The ancient banner of the city—a golden eagle in a red field—was unfolded to wave amid new glories; and in homage to the Church the keys of St. Peter were quartered upon it.
At midnight, John of St. Remigio stayed his rapid flight at Vicari, a castle thirty miles distant from the capital; where, knocking loudly and hurriedly, he was with difficulty recognized by the garrison, half-drunk from the celebration of the same festival which had bred so fearful a slaughter in Palermo. Having admitted him, they were transfixed with amazement at seeing their Justiciary at so unreasonable an hour, unescorted, breathless, and covered with blood. John refused all explanation at the time, but the next morning at daybreak he called to arms all the French of the neighborhood—a feudal militia well inured to warfare—and breaking silence urged them to resist, and perhaps to avenge, the fate of their comrades. It was not long before the forces of Palermo, which had set out at dawn in pursuit of the fugitive—whose traces they had discovered—arrived at full speed beneath the walls of Vicari, and surrounded the city in disorder, impatient for the assault; but not perceiving how it was to be made, they had recourse to threats, and demanded immediate surrender, promising to the inhabitants the safety of their persons, and to John and his followers permission, on laying down their arms, to embark for Aigues-Mortes, in Provence. They, however, disdaining such conditions, and regarding the mob of assailants with contempt, made a vigorous sortie. At first military discipline obtained the advantage, and the Sicilians gave way, but the tide of battle was turned by a power beyond that of human skill, by the spirit which had given birth to the Vespers, and which suddenly blazed up again in the scattered squadrons. They paused—they looked at one another, "Death—death to the French!" they cried, and rushing upon them with irresistible fury, they drove back the veteran warriors into the fortress, defeated and in confusion. After this it was in vain that the French proposed terms of surrender. Heedless of the rules of war the young archers of Cacamo shot the Justiciary as he presented himself upon the walls, and, seeing him fall, the whole multitude rushed to the assault, occupied the fortress, put the garrison to the sword, and flung their corpses, piecemeal, to the dogs and to the vultures. This done, the host returned to Palermo.
Meanwhile, the fame of what had occurred spread rapidly from town to town, and the first in that neighborhood to rise was Corleone, as chief in population and importance, and also because of its numerous Lombard inhabitants, who held the names of Angevins and Guelfs in abhorrence, and of the intolerable burdens imposed upon it by the near neighborhood of the royal farms. This city, afterward surnamed the Valiant, boldly following the example of the capital, sent William Basso, William Corto, and Giugliono de Miraldo as orators to Palermo, to propose terms of alliance and fraternity between the two cities; mutual assistance in arms, forces, and money; reciprocal privileges of citizenship, and enfranchisement from all burdens laid upon such as were not citizens. It is not known whether the idea of the league originated with the republican rulers of Palermo or with the patriots of Corleone; but whichever may have been the case, it clearly exhibits the preponderance in those early days of the municipal tendency, and the exchange of feudal relations for the federal union of communities, the banner under which the revolution spread itself throughout the entire island. The assembled people of Palermo, with one voice, accepted the terms, and by their desire, on the 3d of April, they were sworn to on the Gospels by the captains and counsellors of the city, with the deputies of Corleone, and officially registered among the public acts; Palermo binding herself, moreover, to assist her ally in the destruction of the strong fortress of Calata Mauro.
Meanwhile, one Boniface, elected captain of the people of Corleone, went forth with three thousand men to scour the surrounding country. The royal farms were plundered and devastated; the herds, which had been carefully fattened for the army of the East, were confiscated to the service of the Sicilian revolution; the castles of the French were stormed, their houses sacked, and the massacre so ruthless that, according to Saba Malaspina, it seemed as if every man either had the death of a father, son, or brother to revenge, or firmly believed that the slaughter of a Frenchman was an act well pleasing to God. Thus, in a very few days, the movement propagated itself many miles around owing to the similarity of sentiments, the force of example, and the energy of the insurgents. In many places it assumed a character which must be inexplicable to those who, in spite of all that has been already stated, would persist in regarding these tumultuous outbreaks as the result of conspiracy; while the people showed the utmost readiness to put the foreigners to the sword, yet they feared to disown the name of King Charles. Their hesitation lasted but a few days, for they were carried away by the impulse of universal feeling and by the strength of the rebels; so that all, by degrees, declared themselves elected chiefs to lead their forces against the French, and captains of the people whom they sent to the capital, the fame of whose example had roused their courage, and which was now the centre of all their confidence, of all their hopes.
This first nucleus of the representatives of the nation being thus assembled in Palermo, they became imbued with the same valor which in one short night had raised a popular tumult to the dignity of a revolution. They were further encouraged by the manly energy of the people, who, mingled with insurgents from the surrounding towns, traversed the city to and fro, eagerly relating to one another the outrages they had suffered, and crying aloud, "Death rather than the yoke of the French!" So that no sooner were the syndics of the greater part of Val di Mazzara assembled in parliament, than they agreed to the establishment of the republican form of government conducted in the name of the Church. The people without responded with loud acclamations and shouts of "The Republic and Liberty!" All encouraged each other to venture everything, when Roger Mastrangelo, bent on urging them on so far that all retreat should be cut off and that they might be able to control the course of events, rose and boldly thus addressed the assembly:
"Citizens! I hear daring words and solemn oaths, but I see no symptoms of action, as if the blood that has been shed were the seal of victory rather than the provocation to a long and deadly struggle. Do you know Charles and his thousands of executioners, and can you yet amuse yourselves with the decoration of banners? Not far distant on the mainland are armies and navies ready for the Grecian war: there are the French panting for vengeance, and in a few days they will burst upon us. If they find our ports open for their disembarkation; if our inertness or our faults favor their progress they will soon spread throughout the whole of Sicily; they will subdue the irresolute people by force of arms, deceive them with reports of our unhappy divisions, seduce them with promises, and drag them back to the shameful yoke of bondage or drive them to raise their parricidal weapons against ourselves. You have sworn to die or to be free, and you will become slaves and will not all die—for the butchers will at length be weary—and will reserve the herd of survivors to exercise upon them their despotic will. Sicilians! remember the days of Conradin. To halt now will be destruction; to pursue our course, glory, and deliverance. Our forces are sufficient to raise the whole country as far as Messina, and Messina must not belong to the foe; we share the same origin, the same language, the same past glory and present shame, the same experience that slavery and misery are the result of division.