XXVIII
We went home rather troubled. Savello was walking alone, very angry,with a heavy frown between his eyes, refusing to speak.... Checco wassilent and angry too, half blaming himself for what he had done, halfglad, and Bartolomeo Moratini was by his side, talking to him. Matteoand I were behind with the children. Bartolomeo fell back and joined us.
'I have been trying to persuade Checco to apologise to Savello, but hewill not.'
'Neither would I,' said Matteo.
'If they quarrel, it will be the worse for the town.'
'If I were Checco, I would say that the town might go to the devil, butI would not apologise to that damned priest.'
When we reached the Palazzo Orsi a servant came out to meet us, and toldChecco that a messenger was waiting with important news. Checco turnedto Savello, and said gloomily,--
'Will you come? It may need some consultation.'
The protonotary did not answer, but walked sulkily into the house.After a few minutes, Checco came to us, and said,--
'The Duke of Milan is marching against Forli with five thousand men.'
No one spoke, but the expression on the protonotary's face grew darker.
'It is fortunate we have preserved the children,' said Bartolomeo. 'Theywill be more useful to us alive than dead.'
Savello looked at him; and then, as if trying to mend the breach, butrather against his will, said ungraciously,--
'Perhaps you were right, Checco, in what you did. I did not see at themoment the political wisdom of your act.'
He could not help the sneer. Checco flushed a little, but on a look fromBartolomeo answered,--
'I am sorry if I was too quick of tongue. The excitement of the momentand my temper made me scarcely responsible.'
Checco looked as if it were a very bitter pill he had been forced toswallow; but the words had a reasonable effect, and the clouds began toclear away. An earnest discussion was commenced on the future movements.The first thing was to send for help against the Duke Lodovico. Savellosaid he would apply to Rome. Checco counted on Lorenzo de' Medici, andmessengers were forthwith despatched to both. Then it was decided togather as much victuals as possible into the town, and fortify thewalls, so that they might be prepared for a siege. As to the citadel, weknew it was impossible to take it by storm; but it would not bedifficult to starve it into surrender, for on the news of the Count'sdeath the gates had been shut with such precipitation that the garrisoncould not have food for more than two or three days.
Then Checco sent away his wife and children; he tried to persuade hisfather to go too, but the Orso said he was too old and would rather diein his own town and palace than rush about the country in search ofsafety. In the troubled days of his youth he had been exiled many times,and now his only desire was to remain at home in his beloved Forli.
The news of Lodovico's advance threw consternation into the town, andwhen cartloads of provisions were brought in, and the fortificationsworked at day and night, the brave citizens began to quake and tremble.They were going to have a siege and would have to fight, and it waspossible that if they did not sufficiently hide themselves behind thewalls, they might be killed. As I walked through the streets, I noticedthat the whole populace was distinctly paler.... It was as if a coldwind had blown between their shoulders, and bleached and pinched theirfaces. I smiled, and said to them, in myself,--
'You have had the plunder of the Palace and the custom-houses, myfriends, and you liked that very well; now you will have to pay for yourpleasure.'
I admired Checco's wisdom in giving them good reasons for being faithfulto him. I imagined that, if the beneficent rule of the Countessreturned, it would fare ill with those who had taken part in thelooting....
Checco had caused his family to leave the town as secretly as possible;the preparations had been made with the greatest care, and the departureeffected under cover of night. But it leaked out, and then the care hehad taken in concealing the affair made it more talked of. They askedwhy Checco had sent away his wife and children. Was he afraid of thesiege? Did he intend to leave them himself? At the idea of a betrayal,anger mixed itself with their fear, and they cried out against him! Andwhy did he want to do it so secretly? Why should he try to conceal it? Athousand answers were given, and all more or less discreditable toChecco. His wonderful popularity had taken long enough to reach thepoint when he had walked through the streets amidst showers of narcissi;but it looked as if less days would destroy it than years had built itup. Already he could walk out without being surrounded by the mob andcarried about in triumph. The shouts of joy had ceased to be a burden tohim; and no one cried 'Pater Patriae' as he passed. Checco pretended tonotice no change, but in his heart it tormented him terribly. The changehad begun on the day of the fiasco at the fortress; people blamed theleaders for letting the Countess out of their hands, and it was aperpetual terror to them to have the enemy in their very midst. It wouldhave been bearable to stand an ordinary siege, but when they had theirown citadel against them, what could they do?
The townspeople knew that help was coming from Rome and Florence, andthe general hope was that the friendly armies would arrive before theterrible Duke. Strange stories were circulated about Lodovico. Peoplewho had seen him at Milan described his sallow face with the large,hooked nose and the broad, heavy chin. Others told of his cruelty. Itwas notorious that he had murdered his nephew after keeping him aprisoner for years. They remembered how he had crushed the revolt of asubject town, hanging in the market-place the whole council, young andold, and afterwards hunting up everyone suspected of complicity, andruthlessly putting them to death, so that a third of the population hadperished. The Forlivesi shuddered, and looked anxiously along the roadsby which the friendly armies were expected.
Lorenzo de' Medici refused to help.
There was almost a tumult in the town when the news was told. He saidthat the position of Florence made it impossible for him to send troopsat the present moment, but later he would be able to do whatever wewished. It meant that he intended to wait and see how things turned out,without coming to open war with the Duke unless it was certain thatvictory would be on our side. Checco was furious, and the people werefurious with Checco. He had depended entirely on the help from Florence,and when it failed the citizens murmured openly against him, saying thathe had entered into this thing without preparation, without thought ofthe future. We begged Checco not to show himself in the town that day,but he insisted. The people looked at him as he passed, keeping perfectsilence. As yet they neither praised nor blamed, but how long would itbe before they refrained from cursing him they had blessed? Checcowalked through with set face, very pale. We asked him to turn back, buthe refused, slackening his pace to prolong the walk, as if it gave him acertain painful pleasure to drain the cup of bitterness to the dregs. Inthe piazza we saw two councillors talking together; they crossed over tothe other side, pretending not to see us.
Now our only hope was in Rome. The Pope had sent a messenger to say thathe was preparing an army, and bidding us keep steadfast and firm.Savello posted the notice up in the market-place, and the crowd thatread broke out into praises of the Pope and Savello. And as Checco'sinfluence diminished Savello's increased; the protonotary began to takegreater authority in the councils, and often he seemed to contradictChecco for the mere pleasure of overbearing and humiliating him. Checcobecame more taciturn and gloomy every day.
But the high spirits of the townsmen sank when it was announced thatLodovico's army was within a day's march, and nothing had been heardfrom Rome. Messengers were sent urging the Pope to hasten his army, orat least to send a few troops to divert the enemy and encourage thepeople. The citizens mounted the ramparts and watched the two roads--theroad that led from Milan and the road that led to Rome. The Duke wascoming nearer and nearer; the peasants began to flock into the town,with their families, their cattle, and such property as they had beenable to carry with them. They said the Duke was approaching with amighty army, and that he had vo
wed to put all the inhabitants to thesword to revenge the death of his brother. The fear of the fugitivesspread to the citizens, and there was a general panic. The gates wereclosed, and all grown men summoned to arms. Then they began to lament,asking what inexperienced townsmen could do against the trained army ofthe Duke, and the women wept and implored their husbands not to risktheir precious lives; and above all rose the murmur against Checco.
When would the army come from Rome? They asked the country folk, butthey had heard of nothing; they looked and looked, but the road wasempty.
And suddenly over the hills was seen appearing the vanguard of theDuke's army. The troops wound down into the plain, and others appearedon the brow of the hills; slowly they marched down and others againappeared, and others and others, and still they appeared on the summitand wound down into the plain. They wondered, horror-stricken, how largethe army was--five, ten, twenty thousand men! Would it never end? Theywere panic-stricken. At last the whole army descended and halted; therewas a confusion of commands, a rushing hither and thither, a bustling, atroubling; it looked like a colony of ants furnishing their winter home.The camp was marked out, entrenchments were made, tents erected, andForli was in a state of siege.