By personal visitation, made at the risk of his life, John aroused the Sicilians to a sense of their situation, and to a determination to resist the oppressor on the first opportunity. The plot was thickening but was not matured; the egg of rebellion was laid but not ready to break, when the incident known as the Sicilian Vespers precipitated matters to a terrible conclusion, and took the direction of them out of John of Procida's hands.

over.

On Easter Tuesday, 31st March, 1282, the people of Palermo had gone to hear vespers at the church of San Spirito, on Morreale, a short distance from the town. At the same place was a pleasure garden, where the people were wont to walk and amuse themselves after service was On this particular evening the Palermitans were there in large numbers, attracted by the fineness of the weather and the festivity of the Easter octave. A number of the officers of the viceroy were also there, for the purpose as they said of maintaining order. Herbert of Orleans, the viceroy, had forbidden the Sicilians to wear arms, or to train themselves to use them. They were therefore on this occasion unarmed, while the French carried their customary weapons.

The French, who had come to preserve order, began, as usual, to presume upon their superiority, and to insult the people. Their conduct towards the women was such as to call out the remonstrances of the men. To them the Frenchmen only replied with offensive taunts, and did not desist from their insolent behaviour. Some especially insolent speech or act evoked the indignant protest of some Sicilian youth, who delivered themselves so boldly that the French exclaimed, "They must have concealed arms or they would not talk so." One of them named Drouet, more brutal than the rest, made up to where a beautiful girl of noble family was walking with her betrothed and her parents, and accused her of carrying concealed weapons. On her denying the charge, Drouet caught hold of her with his left hand and thrust his right into her bosom, at the same time attempting to kiss her. The girl fainted, and fell back in her lover's arms.

A young man whose name is unknown, saw the occurrence and rushed forward, knocked Drouet down, drew his sword, and killed the fellow with his own weapon, shouting as he did so, "Death to the French! Down with the French!" The cry, like the voice of God, echoed through the country, and stirred the hearts of all. Each man's hand was immediately against the aliens. Implements of husbandry, or of household use, served the place of more recognised weapons. A horrible scene of mutual slaughter ensued, the Sicilians suffering severely from their wellarmed enemies; but for the French, the contemporary historian remarks with significant terseness, they numbered two hundred, and two hundred fell.

From the garden the insurgents ran, excited and bloody, with the dead men's swords in their hands, to the city, crying, "Death to the French!" and dealing it to them whenever they came in their way.

Under the leadership of Ruggiero Mastrangelo, they took possession of Palermo, surrounded and broke the palace of the governor, killed the inhabitants, and destroyed the property. The governor himself escaped almost by a miracle.

All that evening and all that night the populace gave loose rein to

their fury; they broke into the convents and slew the French monks; the altar was no asylum; neither men, women, nor children were spared; neither age nor rank afforded protection. "Remember Agosta!" was the cry when the blood fury began to abate to the old tune, and again the butchery went on till the evening's work had two thousand corpses to show for it. Christian burial was denied to the dead, who were cast into pits and buried like dogs.

Giovanni di San Remigio, the governor, who had escaped to the castle of Vicari, thirty miles from Palermo, next day aroused the French in the neighbourhood, with the feudal militia, for the purpose of avenging their fallen countrymen. But their own Nemesis was at hand. An irregular band had started at daylight from Palermo in pursuit of the governor, and ran him to earth at Vicari. Whether out of respect, or from whatever consideration, it was offered to San Remigio that he and the soldiers with him might embark for Provence, and their lives should be spared if they would surrender. The terms were scornfully refused; a sortie was made, and sustained with great valour till the governor fell pierced with arrows; then a fear came upon the French, and the spirit of the Vespers upon their assailants, who rushed forward to the cry, "Death to the French!" and put every man to the sword.

The ferocity of the outbreak left the insurgents no hope of reconciliation. They had gone thus far, they must go still farther. In a sort of parliament hastily summoned at Palermo, the regal form of government was renounced for ever; and it was agreed to form a commonwealth under the protection of the Church. Ruggiero Mastrangelo was made chief of the provisional government, with a council to assist him.

The town of Corleone, moved by the example of Palermo, sent deputies to make common cause with her, and to propose an offensive and defensive alliance. The council was unanimous in its decision to accept the offer, and publicly swore on the Gospels, faith and friendship with the Corleonesi; and further, to assist them in destroying the strong castle of Calatamauro, about ten miles from their city.

As soon as the pact was made, Bonifazio, captain of the Corleonesi, put himself at the head of three thousand men and scoured the country round, seizing the royal magazines and herds intended for the expedition to Constantinople, razing the castles, and destroying utterly all that bore any connexion with the French. Such was their fury in killing, that Saba Malaspina says it seemed as if every man had a father, son, or brother to avenge, or was possessed with the belief that in slaying a Frenchman he did God service.

Other places took the infection, slew their French, and sent deputies to Palermo. There a more numerous parliament assented to the republic under the Church, and swore to die rather than serve the French.

When the assembly had been wrought to a high pitch of enthusiasm, Mastrangelo rose to direct it. He pointed out that they had committed themselves irretrievably to resistance; that Charles would be implacable; that he had ships and soldiers which would soon be sent against them to destroy them; and finished a most eloquent appeal to their patriotism by urging them to organise disciplined bands for the purpose of pursuing their yet incomplete work, and of offering the steadiest defence against the attacks which would assuredly be made.

It was resolved to invite Messina, which was still held for the king, to throw off the foreign yoke.

Three columns were formed under the direction of Mastrangelo, one to secure the country towards Cefalù, the second to march on Calatafimi, and the other to take the heart of the island by Castrogiovanni. They went, and did their work. Burning houses, murdered people, marked the line of their march. Sacrifices of blood and fire were needed to cleanse

the land, and terribly it was purified.

Messina, where Herbert of Orleans resided, did not at once respond to the enthusiasm of her sister city. She sent some galleys to blockade the port of Palermo, and to insult the garrison. These latter, however, declared they could not exchange blows with their brethren, that they reserved their anger for their enemies, and at the same time they reared the Cross of Messina by side of the Eagle of Palermo on their walls.

On the 15th of April the town authorities of Messina sent five hundred archers, under Captain Chiriolo, a Sicilian, to take possession of Taormina, which the rebels had failed to occupy. Scarcely had they left the town when the people, who had become inoculated with the general feeling, finding so large a force of the municipal guard withdrawn, began to murmur at the measures which were being taken against their countrymen. From murmurs they proceeded to some acts of insubordination, and assumed so threatening an aspect that the viceroy, who had but six hundred men-at-arms with him, withdrew all but ninety into the castle of Matagrifone and his own palace. These ninety he sent, under Micheletto Gatta, to serve as a check on the archers, who had gone to Taormina, and of whose fidelity he was more than doubtful.

When the archers saw them coming, they suspected their object, and, incited by Bartolomeo, a citizen, received them with a cloud of arrows. Forty saddles were emptied: the rest of the band turned round and fled to the castle of Scaletta. The Sicilians tore up the banners of Charles and marched back to raise the people of Messina.

Meantime, the Messinese, under the guidance of Bartolomeo Maniscalco, rose against their masters. The savage cry, "Death to the French!" was repeated and passed along. Again many innocent persons perished, and the capital of the island passed into the hands of the natives.

Next day a government, composed of the principal people in the city, was formed to act in conjunction with that of Palermo. A vain attempt was made by the viceroy to seduce the new chief magistrate from his post. The messenger was sent back with an offer to spare the lives of Herbert of Orleans and those with him, on condition that they should give up arms, horses, and baggage, and sail direct to Acquamorte, in Provence, without touching on the Sicilian or Calabrian coasts. The terms were agreed to, but broken by Herbert, who, instead of sailing to Provence, landed on the Calabrian coast, where it seems he had given a rendezvous to the late garrison of Messina.

On the same conditions the garrisons of Matagrifone and Scaletta surrendered, but a sudden frenzy coming upon the people at hearing of the bad faith of the viceroy, and being further excited at the threats of Charles against them, they broke into the places where the prisoners were confined for safety, and murdered them every one.

Thus, in the space of one month, the train which, comparatively speaking, a small spark had kindled in Palermo communicated with the whole island, and had its final explosion in Messina. In one month the people who had seemed so crushed had shaken off a tyrannical yoke, and dared to be free. They had asserted in the most positive way the rights of long-enduring, much-suffering humanity; and horrible as the means they resorted to were, tremendous as was the cruelty of the indiscriminate massacres, it must be remembered that severity was their only safety, "thorough" their single course; and that in extenuation of the wholesale slaughters, in which nearly eight thousand people perished, it must be said that the French had furnished them with only too valid precedents, and that in the fury of the Sicilian Vespers might be recognised the sign of even-handed justice dealing out measure for measure for the deletion of Agosta.

With the events which took place after the expulsion of the French, I do not propose to deal in detail.

Charles made the most desperate attempts to regain his authority, closely besieged Messina in person, until he was forced back by the combined efforts of the Sicilians, Genoese, and Spaniards. These latter, under Ruggiero di Loria, who commanded the Catalan fleet fitted out with the money obtained from Michael Palæologus, swept the seas of the ships which should have borne Charles's expedition to the East. The land forces were also so severely handled by the valiant defenders of Messina, that Charles was compelled to withdraw hastily to the mainland, in order to avoid capture by the people he had come to subdue.

How Peter III. of Aragon ultimately came to the crown on the invitation of the Sicilians and by grant of the Pope, defended the island against the French, and severed it from its connexion with Naples, I do not propose to relate, nor to pursue an inquiry into the quarrels which for two hundred years arose out of the Spanish and French claims to dominion in Italy.

The story of the Sicilian Vespers stands by itself, one of many memorials of the degree to which bad government may be exercised without resistance, and of the tremendous excesses which an oppressed people can commit when once they proceed to action in a condition which is almost desperate.

"And

The story was long remembered in France. "If I am provoked," said Henri IV., "I will breakfast at Milan and dine at Naples." perhaps," said the Spanish ambassador, "your majesty may reach Sicily in time for Vespers."

F. W. R.

2 c

VOL. LIV.

378

BARON VON STOCKMAR.

IN the man who died on July 9 last, at Coburg, and whose death formed the subject of an English newspaper paragraph, the Germans lost a wise statesman, a warm-hearted patriot, and a good citizen. The worthy folk of Coburg were fond of pointing out his house to travellers, although many of the latter, even his own countrymen, had probably never heard his name before. This may be partly explained by the peculiar position in which Stockmar stood to state affairs; for while exercising a decided influence in the formation of new states and the fall of European dynasties, it was his destiny to become scarce known beyond his own immediate circle. As we English owe much to him, a memoir may not be out of place here of one of her Majesty's most trustworthy and intimate friends.

Christian Frederick Stockmar was born at Coburg on August 22, 1787, the son of a well-to-do and respected bourgeois family. His mother was a very sensible, true-hearted woman, his father a man of considerable independence of character, who once committed the unpardonable sin of opposing the views of his most august ruler. The character of both the parents was faithfully transmitted in the son. While still a lad, the confidence he felt of future success in life caused his family considerable amusement. Thus he one day pointed to the simple tea equipage, and said, "I shall have all that in silver some day," and his mother calmly replied, "If you can manage it, I shall be glad." In later years this early comprehension of human grandeur was often repeated to him, when his ideas as to the social value of a silver teapot had greatly changed.

In 1805, Stockmar went to the university, where he studied medicine. His student-years had a decided influence on his future life. They fell in that wretched period when the Gallic rule pressed on Germany like lead, when Prussia was dashed to pieces, the Rhenish Confederation founded, and the shadow of death brooded over the whole nation. The heart of the life-enjoying youth was contracted through pain at the universal misery. Probably he had brought with him from home a contempt for the old local governments, and now he saw the hollow condition of the Rhenish Confederation; on one side lamentable weakness, on the other immoral tyranny. In him and in the circle of his friends a lenging for the unity, might, and grandeur of the German Empire was aroused. With the defeat of Austria in 1809, the feeling of disgrace became so great that the cheerfulness of even youths grew embittered. Once in his presence the fury felt at the desperate state of Germany was loudly expressed, and in the conversation the assassination of Napoleon was suggested. At this moment an old Prussian officer, a great friend of Stockmar and his companions, rose and said, seriously, "Only young people talk in that way: let things be. Any one who has been longer acquainted with the world knows that the French Empire cannot last long trust to the natural course of events." This calm confidence made a deep impression on Stockmar. In what could this natural course of events consist? In the injury which victory itself must inflict on the mind of the autocrat, blinding his judgment, and ruining his decision; in