XXIV
I went out into the piazza. It was full of men, but where was theenthusiasm we had expected, the tumult, the shouts of joy? Was not thetyrant dead? But they stood there dismayed, confounded, like sheep....And was not the tyrant dead? I saw partisans of Checco rushing throughthe crowd with cries of 'Death to all tyrants,' and 'Liberty, liberty!'but the people did not move. Here and there were men mounted on barrows,haranguing the people, throwing out words of fire, but the wind wasstill and they did not spread.... Some of the younger ones were talkingexcitedly, but the merchants kept calm, seeming afraid. They asked whatwas to happen now--what Checco would do? Some suggested that the townshould be offered to the Pope; others talked of Lodovico Sforza and thevengeance he would bring from Milan.
I caught sight of Alessandra Moratini.
'What news? What news?'
'Oh God, I don't know!' he said with an expression of agony. 'They won'tmove. I thought they would rise up and take the work out of our hands.But they are as dull as stones.'
'And the others?' I asked.
'They are going through the town trying to rouse the people. God knowswhat success they will have!'
At that moment there was a stir at one end of the square, and a crowd ofmechanics surged in, headed by a gigantic butcher, flourishing a greatmeat-axe. They were crying 'Liberty!' Matteo went towards them and beganto address them, but the butcher interrupted him and shouted coarsewords of enthusiasm, at which they all yelled with applause.
Checco came on the scene, accompanied by his servants. A small crowdfollowed, crying,--
'Bravo, Checco! bravo!'
As soon as the mechanics saw him, they rushed towards him, surroundinghim with cries and cheers.... The square was growing fuller everymoment; the shops had been closed, and from all quarters came swarmingartisans and apprentices. I made my way to Checco and whispered tohim,--
'The people! Fire them, and the rest will follow.'
'A leader of rabble!'
'Never mind,' I said. 'Make use of them. Give way to them now, and theywill do your will. Give them the body of the Count!'
He looked at me, then nodded and whispered,--
'Quickly!'
I ran to the Palace and told Marco Scorsacana what I had come for. Wewent into the Hall of the Nymphs; the body was lying on its face,almost doubled up, and the floor was stained with a horrible stream ofblood; in the back were two wounds. Lodovico had indeed made sure thatthe Count was safe.... We caught hold of the body; it was not yet cold,and dragged it to the window. With difficulty we lifted it on to thesill.
'Here is your enemy!' I cried.
Then hoisting him, we pushed him out, and he fell on the stones with agreat, dull thud. A mighty shout burst from the mob as they rushed atthe body. One man tore the chain off his neck, but as he was runningaway with it another snatched at it. In the struggle it broke, and onegot away with the chain, the other with the jewel. Then, with cries ofhate, they set on the corpse. They kicked him and slapped his face andspat on him. The rings were wrenched off his fingers, his coat was tornaway; they took his shoes, his hose; in less than a minute everythinghad been robbed, and he was lying naked, naked as when he was born. Theyhad no mercy those people; they began to laugh and jeer, and make fouljokes about his nakedness.
The piazza was thronged, and every moment people entered; the women ofthe lower classes had come, joining their shrill cries to the shouts ofthe men. The noise was stupendous, and above all rang the cries ofLiberty and Death.
'The Countess! The Countess!'
It became the general cry, drowning the others, and from all quarters.
'Where is the Countess? Bring her out. Death to the Countess!'
A cry went up that she was in the Palace, and the shout became,--
'To the Palace! To the Palace!'
Checco said to us,--
'We must save her. If they get hold of her she will be torn to pieces.Let her be taken to my house.'
Matteo and Pansecchi took all the soldiers they could and entered thePalace. In a few minutes they appeared with Caterina and her children;they had surrounded her and were walking with drawn swords.
A yell broke from these thousands of throats, and they surged towardsthe little band. Checco shouted out to them to let her go in peace, andthey held back a little; but as she passed they hissed and cursed andcalled her foul names. Caterina walked proudly, neither turning to theright nor to the left, no sign of terror on her face, not even a pallidcheek. She might have been traversing the piazza amidst the homage ofher people. Suddenly it occurred to a man that she had jewels concealedon her. He pushed through the guards and put his hand to her bosom. Shelifted her hand and hit him in the face. A cry of rage broke from thepopulace, and they made a rush. Matteo and his men stopped, closingtogether, and he said,--
'By God! I swear I will kill any man who comes within my reach.'
They shrank back frightened, and taking advantage of this, the littleband hurried out of the piazza.
Then the people looked at one another, waiting for something to do, notknowing where to begin. Their eyes were beginning to flame, and theirhands to itch for destruction. Checco saw their feeling, and at oncepointed to the Palace.
'There are the fruits of your labours, your money, your jewels, yourtaxes. Go and take back your own. There is the Palace. We give you thePalace.'
They broke into a cheer, a rush was made, and they struggled in by thegreat doors, fighting their way up the stairs in search of plunder,dispersing through the splendid rooms....
Checco looked at them disappearing through the gateway.
'Now, we have them at last.'
In a few minutes the stream at the Palace gates became double, for itconsisted of those coming out as well as of those going in. Theconfusion became greater and greater, and the rival bands elbowed andstruggled and fought. The windows were burst open and things thrownout--coverlets, linen, curtains, gorgeous silks, Oriental brocades,satins--and the women stood below to catch them. Sometimes there was astruggle for possession, but the objects were poured out so fast thateveryone could be satisfied. Through the doors men could be seen comingwith their arms full, their pockets bulging, and handing their plunderto their wives to take home, while they themselves rushed in again. Allthe little things were taken first, and then it was the turn of thefurniture. People came out with chairs or coffers on their heads,bearing them away quickly lest their claim should be disputed. Sometimesthe entrance was stopped by two or three men coming out with a heavychest or with the pieces of a bedstead. Then the shouting and pushingand confusion were worse than ever.... Even the furniture gave out underthe keen hands, and looking round they saw that the walls and floorswere bare. But there was still something for them. They made for thedoors and wrenched them away. From the piazza we saw men tear out thewindow frames, even the hinges were taken, and they streamed out of thePalace heavily laden, their hands bloody from the work of destruction.
All over the town the bells were ringing, and still people surged intothe piazza. Thousands had got nothing from the Palace, and they criedout in anger against their companions, envious at their good luck. Bandshad formed themselves with chiefs, and they were going about excitingthe others. Checco stood among them, unable to restrain them. Suddenlyanother cry rose from a thousand throats,--
'The Treasury!'
And irresistible as the sea, they rushed to the Gabella. In a fewminutes the same ruin had overtaken it, and it was lying bare and empty.
Scarcely one of them remained in the piazza. The corpse was lying on thecold stones, naked, the face close to the house in which the living manhad taken such pride; and the house itself, with the gaping aperturesfrom the stolen windows, looked like a building which had been burntwith fire, so that only the walls remained. And it was empty but for afew rapacious men, who were wandering about like scavengers to seewhether anything had been left unfound.
The body had done its work and it could rest in peace. Checco sent forfriars
, who placed it on a stretcher, covering its nakedness, and boreit to their church.
Night came, and with it a little peace. The tumult with which the townwas filled quietened down; one by one the sounds ceased, and over thecity fell a troubled sleep....
The Making of a Saint Page 25