A.C. 264.

The power of the Romans had struggled during nearly five hundred years against the peoples of Italy; and it was not till after many and severe toils that they succeeded in laying the foundations of an empire which was doomed to embrace nearly the known universe. Rome, mistress of those vast countries which extend from the Rubicon to the southern extremity of Italy, became anxious to carry her conquests abroad. She ventured to attack the forces of Carthage, at that time the most flourishing republic in existence. The union of the Carthaginians with Hiero, king of Syracuse, for the destruction of the Messinians and the siege of Messina, were the pretexts for the first war between these two ambitious republics, whilst the conquest of Sicily was the real object. Messina having placed itself under the protection of Rome, Appius Claudius was ordered to march to the succour of that oppressed city; but a strait of the sea had to be crossed, and the Romans, without maritime experience, had nothing but boats, rudely constructed, very much resembling Indian canoes. Was it possible for such a fleet to resist that of the Carthaginians, well equipped and numerous, besides being accustomed to the domination of the seas? Appius at once perceived his weakness; and yet it was necessary that he should arrive at Messina quickly, as the enemy was pressing it very closely. In this embarrassment, the consul had recourse to an ingenious stratagem: he pretended to endeavour to cross the strait, but seeming to be terrified at the sight of the Carthaginians, he took to flight suddenly, and feigned to abandon the enterprise. The Carthaginians, fully persuaded that he would not return, but was gone back to Rome, retired, as if there was nothing more to be feared. Appius, taking advantage of this belief, crossed the strait in the night-time, and arrived safely in Sicily. The place at which he landed was close to the camp of the Syracusans; and the consul exhorted his troops to fall at once upon the enemy, promising them an easy victory;—in fact, it proved so. The army of Hiero could not sustain the impetuous shock of the Romans: it fled, and abandoned the entrances of Messina to the conquerors. The consul was received like a liberator from heaven; and the joy of the citizens was the greater, from their having been in utter despair. Appius, taking advantage of his victory, attacked the camp of the Carthaginians; but he was repulsed with some loss, and forced to retreat. He was pursued, which was what he desired and expected; he faced about, and fortune seemed to change with the situation of the place. The Carthaginians could not stand against the courage of the Romans, but took to flight in their turn, after losing many men. And thus Rome commenced the first Punic war.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 1282.

Stung almost to madness by the celebrated Sicilian Vespers, Charles of Anjou collected all the troops in his power, set forward on his march, accompanied by an apostolic legate, and invested Messina, which he pressed closely. The unfortunate inhabitants, upon the point of having their city carried by assault, offered to capitulate. They promised to return to their duty, if the monarch would forget the past, and engage not to give to the French either places or magistracy in their city. Charles replied, that he intended to govern as to him should seem best; and that, if they did not promptly submit, they might prepare to be treated in the same manner as they had treated the French. The Messinese, irritated by this disheartening reply, swore that they would rather devour their own children than become slaves for ever. It was in vain that endeavours were made to bring them back to a more prudent line of conduct; the most terrible menaces were equally vain: they would listen to nothing: they declared that it would be better to die like brave men, than to be given up to the executioner like base malefactors. Old men, women, and children, all took up arms in the common cause. The king continued to press the siege very warmly; but the Messinese, animated by a generous despair, defended themselves with such heroic valour, that they gave Don Pedro of Arragon time to come to their succour. This prince, at the head of a fleet of fifty galleys, which had for admiral Roger Doria, the greatest seaman of his age, advanced into the strait of Messina, for the purpose of carrying off the French fleet, which lay there without defence. Charles, being informed of this project, thought it evident he should be ruined if he continued the siege; so he retreated without obtaining his revenge; but he could not save his vessels, of which the enemy took twenty-nine, and burnt thirty.

This war lasted many years, and was almost always unfortunate for the house of Anjou, which was at length obliged to share Sicily with that of Arragon, and to content itself with Calabria, Apulia, the Terra di Lavoro, and the Abruzzi, under the title of the kingdom of Naples.

We cannot leave the beautiful island of Sicily, where such interesting sieges have detained us so long, without offering our young readers a reflection upon the fate of that earthly paradise. From the shores of the Mediterranean to the summit of Etna, Sicily may be said to produce all that is desirable in most of the climates of the earth, and that almost spontaneously. But it is this spontaneity that we think creates its misfortune: Providence neither favours countries, nor limits its blessings to them, without countervailing checks or advantages. Sicily, from the time of the tyrants of Syracuse, under whom it was at least reckoned for something in the world, has always been under the subjugation of foreigners: successively enslaved by the Romans, the Vandals, the Arabs, the Normans; under the vassalage of the popes, the French, the Germans, and the Spaniards; always hating its masters; revolting against them, without making any efforts worthy of liberty; and continually exciting seditions, only to change its chains;—such is the history of Sicily; and only because it is one of the richest spots in the world—is the granary of the country that owns it—and produces this best of all wealth, as we have said, almost spontaneously. Where man is not constrained to gain his bread by the sweat of his brow, he degenerates; the worst of passions are engendered by idleness; and from the indulgence of them follows that loss of self-respect which makes him indifferent to liberty, careless of his rights, and the willing victim of the highest bidder to his vices. It is a curious fact, but no less a fact, that the most productive countries in the world are seldom ruled over by the inhabitants indigenous to them.