With Cavigni his
conversations were commonly on political or military topics, such as
the convulsed state of their country rendered at this time particularly
interesting, Emily observed, that, at the mention of any daring
exploit, Montoni’s eyes lost their sullenness, and seemed
instantaneously to gleam with fire; yet they still retained somewhat of
a lurking cunning, and she sometimes thought that their fire partook
more of the glare of malice than the brightness of valour, though the
latter would well have harmonised with the high chivalric air of his
figure, in which Cavigni, with all his gay and gallant manners, was his
inferior. On entering the Milanese, the gentlemen exchanged their French hats for
the Italian cap of scarlet cloth, embroidered; and Emily was somewhat
surprised to observe, that Montoni added to his the military plume,
while Cavigni retained only the feather: which was usually worn with
such caps: but she at length concluded, that Montoni assumed this
ensign of a soldier for convenience, as a means of passing with more
safety through a country over-run with parties of the military. Over the beautiful plains of this country the devastations of war were
frequently visible. Where the lands had not been suffered to lie
uncultivated, they were often tracked with the steps of the spoiler;
the vines were torn down from the branches that had supported them, the
olives trampled upon the ground, and even the groves of mulberry trees
had been hewn by the enemy to light fires that destroyed the hamlets
and villages of their owners. Emily turned her eyes with a sigh from
these painful vestiges of contention, to the Alps of the Grison, that
overlooked them to the north, whose awful solitudes seemed to offer to
persecuted man a secure asylum. The travellers frequently distinguished troops of soldiers moving at a
distance; and they experienced, at the little inns on the road, the
scarcity of provision and other inconveniences, which are a part of the
consequence of intestine war; but they had never reason to be much
alarmed for their immediate safety, and they passed on to Milan with
little interruption of any kind, where they staid not to survey the
grandeur of the city, or even to view its vast cathedral, which was
then building. Beyond Milan, the country wore the aspect of a ruder devastation; and
though everything seemed now quiet, the repose was like that of death,
spread over features, which retain the impression of the last
convulsions. It was not till they had passed the eastern limits of the Milanese,
that the travellers saw any troops since they had left Milan, when, as
the evening was drawing to a close, they descried what appeared to be
an army winding onward along the distant plains, whose spears and other
arms caught the last rays of the sun. As the column advanced through a
part of the road, contracted between two hillocks, some of the
commanders, on horseback, were distinguished on a small eminence,
pointing and making signals for the march; while several of the
officers were riding along the line directing its progress, according
to the signs communicated by those above; and others, separating from
the vanguard, which had emerged from the pass, were riding carelessly
along the plains at some distance to the right of the army. As they drew nearer, Montoni, distinguishing the feathers that waved in
their caps, and the banners and liveries of the bands that followed
them, thought he knew this to be the small army commanded by the famous
captain Utaldo, with whom, as well as with some of the other chiefs, he
was personally acquainted. He, therefore, gave orders that the
carriages should draw up by the side of the road, to await their
arrival, and give them the pass. A faint strain of martial music now
stole by, and, gradually strengthening as the troops approached, Emily
distinguished the drums and trumpets, with the clash of cymbals and of
arms, that were struck by a small party, in time to the march. Montoni being now certain that these were the bands of the victorious
Utaldo, leaned from the carriage window, and hailed their general by
waving his cap in the air; which compliment the chief returned by
raising his spear, and then letting it down again suddenly, while some
of his officers, who were riding at a distance from the troops, came up
to the carriage, and saluted Montoni as an old acquaintance. The
captain himself soon after arriving, his bands halted while he
conversed with Montoni, whom he appeared much rejoiced to see; and from
what he said, Emily understood that this was a victorious army,
returning into their own principality; while the numerous waggons, that
accompanied them, contained the rich spoils of the enemy, their own
wounded soldiers, and the prisoners they had taken in battle, who were
to be ransomed when the peace, then negociating between the
neighbouring states, should be ratified. The chiefs on the following
day were to separate, and each, taking his share of the spoil, was to
return with his own band to his castle. This was therefore to be an
evening of uncommon and general festivity, in commemoration of the
victory they had accomplished together, and of the farewell which the
commanders were about to take of each other. Emily, as these officers conversed with Montoni, observed with
admiration, tinctured with awe, their high martial air, mingled with
the haughtiness of the noblesse of those days, and heightened by the
gallantry of their dress, by the plumes towering on their caps, the
armorial coat, Persian sash, and ancient Spanish cloak. Utaldo, telling
Montoni that his army were going to encamp for the night near a village
at only a few miles distance, invited him to turn back and partake of
their festivity, assuring the ladies also, that they should be
pleasantly accommodated; but Montoni excused himself, adding, that it
was his design to reach Verona that evening; and, after some
conversation concerning the state of the country towards that city,
they parted. The travellers proceeded without any interruption; but it was some
hours after sunset before they arrived at Verona, whose beautiful
environs were therefore not seen by Emily till the following morning;
when, leaving that pleasant town at an early hour, they set off for
Padua, where they embarked on the Brenta for Venice. Here the scene was
entirely changed; no vestiges of war, such as had deformed the plains
of the Milanese, appeared; on the contrary, all was peace and elegance. The verdant banks of the Brenta exhibited a continued landscape of
beauty, gaiety, and splendour.