The Betrothed / From the Italian of Alessandro Manzoni

by Alessandro Manzoni

Over the execution of these laws the people themselves watched, and were determined to receive the benefit of them quickly. They assembled in crowds before the bakers’ houses to demand bread at the price fixed; there was no remedy; the bakers were employed night and day in supplying their wants, inasmuch as the people, having a confused idea that the privilege would be transient, ceased not to besiege their houses, in order to enjoy to the utmost their temporary good fortune. The magistrates threatened punishment—the multitude murmured at every delay of the bakers in furnishing them. These remonstrated incessantly against the iniquitous and insupportable weight of the burden imposed on them; but Antonio Ferrer replied, that they had possessed great advantages in times past, and now owed the public some reparation. Finally, the council of ten (a municipal magistracy composed of nobles, which lasted until the ninety-seventh year of the century just elapsed,) informed the governor of the state in which things were, hoping that he would find some remedy. Don Gonzalo, immersed in the business of war, named a council, upon whom he conferred authority to fix a reasonable price upon bread, so that both parties should be satisfied. The deputies assembled, and after much deliberation felt themselves compelled to augment the price of it: the bakers breathed, but the people became furious.

The evening preceding the day on which Renzo arrived at Milan, the streets swarmed with people, who, governed by one common feeling, strangers or friends, had intuitively united themselves in companies throughout the city. Every observation tended to increase their rage and their resentment; various opinions were given, and many exclamations uttered; here, one declaimed aloud to a circle of bystanders, who applauded vehemently; there, another more cautious, but not less dangerous, was whispering in the ear of a neighbour or two, that something must and would be done: in short, there was an incessant and discordant din from the medley of men, women, and children, which composed the various assemblages. There was now only required an impetus to set the machine in motion, and reduce words to deeds; and an opportunity soon presented itself. At the break of day little boys were seen issuing from the bakers’ shops with baskets on their heads, loaded with bread, which they were about to carry to their usual customers. The appearance of one of these unlucky boys in an assembly of people was like a squib thrown into a gunpowder mill. “Here is bread!” cried a hundred voices at once. “Yes, for our tyrants, who swim in abundance, and wish to make us die in hunger,” said one, who drew near the boy, and seizing the basket, cried out, “Let us see.” The boy coloured, grew pale, trembled, and would have entreated them to let him pass on, but the words died on his lips; he then endeavoured to free himself from the basket. “Down with the basket” was heard on all sides; it was seized by many hands, and placed on the earth: they raised the napkin which covered it, and a tepid fragrance diffused itself around. “We are Christians also,” said one; “and have a right to eat bread as well as other people:” so saying, he took a loaf and bit it; the rest followed his example; and it is unnecessary to add, that in a few moments the contents of the basket had disappeared. Those who had not been able to secure any for themselves were irritated at the sight of their neighbours’ gains, and animated by the facility of the enterprise, went in search of other boys with baskets; as many, therefore, as they met were stopped and plundered. Still the number who remained unsatisfied was beyond comparison the greatest, and even the gainers were only stimulated by their success to ampler enterprises; so that simultaneously there was a shout from the crowd of “To the bake-house! to the bake-house!”

In the street called the Corsia de’ Servi there was, and is still, a bakery of the same name,—a name that signifies in Tuscan the Shop of the Crutches, and in Milanese is composed of such barbarous words, that it is impossible to discover their sound from any rule of the language.[4] To this place the throng approached: the shopkeepers were listening to the sad relation of the boys, who had but just escaped with their lives, when they heard a distant murmur, and beheld the crowd advancing.

“Shut, shut! quick, quick!” some ran to ask aid from the sheriff; others in haste closed the shop, and barricadoed and secured the doors from within. The throng thickened in front, and cries of “Bread, bread! open, open!” were heard from every quarter. The sheriff arrived with a troop of halberdiers. “Make way, make way, friends! home, home! make way for the sheriff,” cried they. The people gave way a little, so that they could draw themselves up in front of the door of the shop. “But, friends,” cried the sheriff from this place, “what do you do here? Home, home! have you no fear of God? What will our lord the king say? We do not wish you harm; but go home. There is no good to be gained here for soul or body. Home, home!” The crowd, regardless of his expostulations, pressed forward, themselves being urged on by increasing multitudes behind. “Make them draw back, that I may recover breath,” continued he to the halberdiers, “but harm no one—we will endeavour to get into the shop—make them keep back, and knock at the door.”—“Back, back,” cried the halberdiers, presenting the but-ends of their arms; the throng retreated a little; the sheriff knocked, crying to those within to open; they obeyed, and he and his guard contrived to intrench themselves within the house; then, appearing at a window above, “Friends,” cried he, “go home. A general pardon to whoever shall return immediately to their houses.”

“Bread, bread! open, open!” vociferated the crowd in reply.

“You shall have justice, friends; but return to your houses. You shall have bread; but this is not the way to obtain it. Eh! what are you doing below there? At the door of the house! hah! hah! Take care; it is a criminal act. Eh! away with those tools! take down those hands! hah! hah! You Milanese, who are famous throughout the world for your benevolence, who have always been accounted good citi—— Ah! rascals!”

This rapid change of style was occasioned by a stone thrown by one of these good citizens at the sheriff’s head. “Rascals! rascals!” continued he, closing the window in a rage. The confusion below increased; stones were thrown at the doors and windows, and they had nearly opened a way into the shop. Meanwhile the master and boys of the shop, who were at the windows of the story above, with a supply of stones (obtained probably from the court-yard), threatened to throw them upon the crowd if they did not disperse. Perceiving their threats to be of no avail, they commenced putting them in execution.

“Ah! villains! ah! rogues! Is this the bread you give to the poor?” was screamed from below. Many were wounded, two were killed; the fury of the multitude increased; the doors were broken open, and the torrent rushed through all the passages. At this, those within took refuge under the shop floor; the sheriff and the halberdiers hid themselves beneath the tiles; others escaped by the skylights, and wandered upon the roofs like cats.

The sight of their prey made the conquerors forget their designs of sanguinary vengeance; some rushed to the chests, and plundered them of bread; others hastened to force the locks of the counter, and took from thence handfulls of money, which they pocketed, and then returned to take more bread, if there should remain any. Others, again, entered the interior magazines, and, throwing out part of the flour, reduced the bags to a portable size; some attacked a kneading trough, and made a booty of the dough; a few had made a prize of a bolting cloth, which they raised in the air as in triumph, and, in addition to all, men, women, and children were covered with a cloud of white powder.

While this shop was so ransacked, none of the others in the city remained quiet, or free from danger. But at none had the people assembled in such numbers as to be very daring; in some, the owners had provided auxiliaries, and were on the defensive; in others, the owners less strong in numbers, and more affrighted, endeavoured to compromise matters; they distributed bread to those who crowded around their shops, and thus got rid of them. And these did not depart so much because they were content with the acquisition, as from fear of the halberdiers and officers of justice, who were now scattered throughout the city, in companies sufficient to keep these little bands of mutineers in subjection. In the mean time the tumult and the crowd increased in front of the unfortunate bakery, as the strength of the populace had here the advantage. Things were in this situation, when Renzo, coming from the eastern gate, approached, without knowing it, the scene of tumult. Hurried along by the crowd, he endeavoured to extract from the confused shouting of the throng some more positive information of the real state of affairs.