CHAPTER III.
Scarcely were the commands of the Empress issued that no farther obstruction should be offered to the young stranger, when the brilliant crowd opened, to yield a passage to Teresa Girardi, who appeared in the midst of the throng, in a suppliant attitude, as if scarcely aware of being released from the detention of her captors.
But on a sign from Josephine—a gracious sign, instantly recognised by those around as a token of indulgence—the young Piedmontese was set at liberty; and, on finding herself free, Teresa rushed to the foot of the throne, breathless with agitation, and, bending low before the Empress, proceeded to unfold a handkerchief which she had taken from her bosom.
“A poor prisoner, madam,” said she, “implores the clemency of your majesty.” But, with every disposition to indulgence, it was impossible for the Empress to divine the meaning of the strange-looking handkerchief which Teresa Girardi, sinking on one knee, tendered to her hands.
“Have you a petition to present to me?” demanded Josephine at last, of the trembling girl, in a tone of encouragement.
“This, madam, is a petition; this is the memorial of an unfortunate captive!” persisted Teresa, still holding up the handkerchief. But tears of terror and anxiety, flowing down her cheeks, almost concealed the smile which the gracious affability of the Empress had for a moment called into existence.
“Rise, my poor girl, rise!” said Josephine, in a tone of compassion. “You appear deeply interested in the welfare of the petitioner!”
Teresa blushed, and hung down her head. “I have never even spoken to him, madam,” she replied; “but he is so deserving of pity! If your majesty would deign to read the statement of his misfortunes——”
Josephine now unfolded the handkerchief, touched to the heart by the evidence of misery and destitution conveyed in such a substitute for writing-paper. Pausing, however, after she had perused the first line of the petition, she exclaimed, “But this is addressed to the emperor!”
“And are you not his wife?” cried Teresa. “Deign, deign to read on! Every moment is of consequence. Indeed, there is no time to be lost!”
Teresa before the Empress.
Teresa before the Empress.
Teresa before the Empress.
The fight was now at the hottest. The Hungarian column, though exposed to the severe fire of Marmont’s artillery, was formidable in its movements: Zach and Desaix were face to face; and the result of their encounter was to decide the destinies of the battle. The cannonade became general; the field seemed to vomit flames and smoke; while the clamour of the soldiers, uniting with the clang of arms, and call of trumpets, agitated the air like a tempest. And it was while all this was proceeding around her, that the Empress attempted to give her attention to the following lines:
“Sire: The removal of two stones from the pavement of the court of my prison will scarcely shake the foundation of your empire; and such is the favour I presume to ask of your majesty. It is not for myself I appeal to your protection. But in the stony desert in which I am expiating my offences against your government, a single living thing has solacedmy sufferings, and shed a charm over my gloomy existence! A plant—a flower springing spontaneously among the stones of Fenestrella, is the object of my solicitude. Let not your majesty accuse me of folly—of madness; it needs to have been a prisoner, to appreciate the value of such a friend. To this poor flower am I indebted for discoveries which have dispelled the mists of error from my eyes, for my restoration to reason, for my peace of mind, nay, for my very life! It is dear to me, sire, as glory to yourself.“Yet, at this moment, my precious plant is perishing before my eyes, for want of a little space for the expansion of its roots; and the Commandant of Fenestrella would fain submit to the Governor of Turin my petition for the removal of the two miserable stones that impede its growth. By the time that wisdom has decided the question, the plant will be dead; and it is therefore to your compassion, sire, I appeal for the preservation of my plant. Issue orders that may yet preserve it from destruction, and myself from despair—I implore it on my bended knees; and should you deign to favour my suit, the benefit vouchsafed by your majesty shall be recorded in the inmost depths of my heart!“I admit, sire, that this poor plant has softened the vengeance doomed by your majesty to fall upon my devoted head; but it has also subdued my pride, and cast me a suppliant at your feet. From the height of your double throne, deign, therefore, to extend a pitying glance towards us. It is not for your majesty to appreciate the power exercised by solitary confinement over even the strongest heart, the most iron fortitude. I do not complain of my captivity; I support my sentence with resignation. Be its duration as that of my own life; but spare, oh, spare my plant!“The favour I thus presume to implore, must be conceded, sire, on the spot, without the delay of a single hour! On the brow of the human criminal, justice may hold her sword suspended, in order to enhance the after-sentence of pardon; but nature’s laws are more prompt in their operation. Delay but a single day, and even the mighty power of your majesty will be unavailing to farther the petition of the prisoner of Fenestrella.Charney.”
“Sire: The removal of two stones from the pavement of the court of my prison will scarcely shake the foundation of your empire; and such is the favour I presume to ask of your majesty. It is not for myself I appeal to your protection. But in the stony desert in which I am expiating my offences against your government, a single living thing has solacedmy sufferings, and shed a charm over my gloomy existence! A plant—a flower springing spontaneously among the stones of Fenestrella, is the object of my solicitude. Let not your majesty accuse me of folly—of madness; it needs to have been a prisoner, to appreciate the value of such a friend. To this poor flower am I indebted for discoveries which have dispelled the mists of error from my eyes, for my restoration to reason, for my peace of mind, nay, for my very life! It is dear to me, sire, as glory to yourself.
“Yet, at this moment, my precious plant is perishing before my eyes, for want of a little space for the expansion of its roots; and the Commandant of Fenestrella would fain submit to the Governor of Turin my petition for the removal of the two miserable stones that impede its growth. By the time that wisdom has decided the question, the plant will be dead; and it is therefore to your compassion, sire, I appeal for the preservation of my plant. Issue orders that may yet preserve it from destruction, and myself from despair—I implore it on my bended knees; and should you deign to favour my suit, the benefit vouchsafed by your majesty shall be recorded in the inmost depths of my heart!
“I admit, sire, that this poor plant has softened the vengeance doomed by your majesty to fall upon my devoted head; but it has also subdued my pride, and cast me a suppliant at your feet. From the height of your double throne, deign, therefore, to extend a pitying glance towards us. It is not for your majesty to appreciate the power exercised by solitary confinement over even the strongest heart, the most iron fortitude. I do not complain of my captivity; I support my sentence with resignation. Be its duration as that of my own life; but spare, oh, spare my plant!
“The favour I thus presume to implore, must be conceded, sire, on the spot, without the delay of a single hour! On the brow of the human criminal, justice may hold her sword suspended, in order to enhance the after-sentence of pardon; but nature’s laws are more prompt in their operation. Delay but a single day, and even the mighty power of your majesty will be unavailing to farther the petition of the prisoner of Fenestrella.
Charney.”
At that instant a sudden discharge of artillery seemed to rend asunder the atmosphere, and immediately the thick smoke, cut into circles and lozenges by the thousand lightnings of the discharge, seemed to cover the field with a network of light and shade. But on the cessation of the firing, the curtain of smoke seemed gradually drawn aside; and a brilliant spectacle was given to view, sparkling under the radiance of the sun—even that noble charge, in the original of which Desaix lost his life. Zach and his Hungarians, repulsed in front by Bondet, harassed on the left flank by the cavalry of Kellermann, were already thrown into disorder; after which, the intrepid consul, re-establishing his line of battle from Castel-Ceriola to St. Julian, resumed the offensive, overthrew the imperialists at every point, and forced Melas to a speedy retreat.
This sudden change of position, these grand movements of the army, this flux and reflux of the human tide, at the command of a single voice, the voice of a chief, motionless and calm in the midst of the general disorder, might have sufficed to produce an impression on the coldest imagination. From the groups surrounding the throne, accordingly, burst cries of triumph, and exulting acclamations; when the Empress, startled by the contrast afforded by these “vivats” to the hoarse uproar of the battle-field, was instantly roused from her reverie to a sense of what was passing around her. For to all those brilliant manœuvres and imposing spectacles the future Queen of Italy had remained insensible; her feelings and looks alike preoccupiedby the extraordinary memorial that still fluttered in her hand.
Teresa Girardi, meanwhile, attentive to every gesture of the Empress, felt instantaneously reassured by the soft smile of sympathy which overspread the countenance of Josephine while perusing the petition. With a beating heart, she stooped to imprint a grateful kiss on the hand extended towards her, a hand how puissant amid all its fragile fairness, for on its slender finger glittered the nuptial ring of Napoleon!
Dismissed by this gracious movement from the presence of the Empress, Teresa now hastened towards the women’s quarters; and as soon as the field of Marengo was cleared of its multitudes, proceeded to the nearest chapel, to tender to her sovereign protectress, the Holy Virgin, an offering of prayer and tears, the token of her heartfelt gratitude; for in the condescension of Josephine she fancied she had obtained a pledge for the eventual fulfilment of her wishes.