Thus foiled at every effort, the conversation had almost come to a stand-still, when the noise, the stamping of feet, the clanging of casseroles, and hissing of frying-pans, reached their climax, a huge dish of macaroni was brought in, and we were told to restar serviti. No entreaties could induce any of our hospitable entertainers to seat themselves at table—they all insisted upon serving us; and between the intervals of carrying in the dishes and changing our plates, repaired to the kitchen, where our handmaids were also regaled, and made merry with right good-will. An amusing incident occurred just before we took our places, when Madame V—— and all of us stood up, and she motioned to the young curato to say grace: he grew very red, began in Latin, then stopped abruptly, and whispered to the count imploringly, “I have forgotten it: what am I to say?”
“Via, Via,” was the rejoinder: “say anything, say a benedicite;” which being hastily gone over, the poor priest, in much confusion, explained that he really did not remember any formula, being accustomed only to make the sign of the cross and say a paternoster.
The repast so closely resembled what I have described as usual at the marriage-feast, that any recapitulation would be tedious; neither vegetables nor fruit appeared, for they would have been considered too like every-day fare to do fitting honour to the occasion. As usual in such cases, one had to choose the alternative of eating and drinking to excess, or mortifying the good folks, whose hearts were set upon seeing us do justice to their good cheer. Wine, both red and white, abounded; and the young padrone took as much interest in its merits as the contadino himself, recommending the different qualities, and telling us of the various ways of preparing them. To the guests in the kitchen it was just as liberally dispensed, but no instance occurred of its abuse; there was not even any approach to uproarious hilarity.
No quarrel or dispute impaired the harmony of the day; all the best features of the peasants' character had been displayed—their hospitality, their courtesy, their simple piety; and as we wended homeward, walking through lanes and vineyards a portion of the way to the foot of a declivity, where the biroccio and carriage awaited us, we were enthusiastic in our praises. As a landed proprietor, the count was naturally pleased at these encomiums on his tenantry; but he somewhat damped our ardour by assuring us that we must look upon the contadini we had just quitted not as specimens of the whole race, but exceptions. “Through all the Pope's States,” he said, “the country people round Ancona are remarked as being generally good and well-conducted; but if you go only a short distance into the interior, a great difference is perceptible; and beginning at Loretto, which is only twenty miles from here, they are all noted for their implacability and revenge.” And then, by way of illustration, he related some startling stories of treachery and murder, with as much coolness as if they were everyday, straightforward occurrences. These narratives brought us to our equipages, in which we placed ourselves in the same order as when we came, but without much attempt at conversation; the young count, or hero of the day, as we had named him, fell into a reverie, which we attributed to fatigue, and Madame V——, in her excellent motherly way, recommended him to retire early, and take a lait de poule. But two days afterwards furnished an elucidation of this mystery, in a visit to the Consolessa from the priest of her parish, who had been requested by Count M—— to inquire if her daughter Mademoiselle Natalie's hand was at liberty, and the amount of her dowry. The first of these questions, however, not being answered in a manner favourable to his wishes, there was no necessity for entering into a specific reply to the second.
Disappointed, but not dismayed, the trusty envoy presented himself, very shortly after, to my uncle, with similar interrogatories relative to the cugina forestiera, to which the proviso of a change of religion was subjoined. It is needless to give the tenor of his answer, or to add, that this adventure often furnished us with many amusing recollections, and was a magnificent termination to our christening-party.
CHAPTER XI.
Lent observances—Compulsory confession—The sepulchres on Holy Thursday—Procession on Good Friday—Blessing the houses—Joyful celebration of Easter.
In my last chapter, I find I stepped somewhat abruptly from winter to spring, and talked of merry-makings in the country, while in the one immediately preceding it I left the good townspeople of Ancona enjoying their last night of Carnival, with the dreary prospect of a supperless, theatreless Lent before them. The amusements of the so-called gay season had not been sufficiently numerous to render the transition very remarkable to a superficial observer, yet in many little ways the regulations peculiar to this period were felt as a thorn in the flesh, and conveyed with them some mortification to those by whom they were conscientiously carried out. For instance, their dietetic rules were rather peculiar: it was not allowed to make more than one full meal a day, to eat any supper at night, or to take milk above once in the twenty-four hours; on Friday and Saturday of every week, milk was wholly forbidden; besides a number of similar enactments, which depended on the bishop of the diocese, who every Lent issued a fresh table of regulations, modified according to his ideas, or to the actual condition of the country.
In some of the churches, friars or Jesuit fathers, specially summoned for the purpose, delivered a course of sermons, inveighing against the prevailing irreligion and unbelief. But if the preacher's talents were only of an average description, his audience was limited to a few ladies and old women: when, on the contrary, he happened to be distinguished by a flowery and popular style of eloquence, all classes would flock to hear him, numbers of young men amongst the rest, who came in and out, lounged against the columns, talked together in the pauses, stared at their acquaintances, carried on a little flirtation—in fact, conducted themselves much as if they were in the pit of a theatre. In the same way any great funzione, where good music and singing were sure to be heard, never failed to attract the gioventù in crowds to the church in which it was celebrated; while the stimulus of a higher motive than mere curiosity, or the employment of an idle hour, never appeared to be felt or even dreamed of. This total absence of religion, or rather of all religious belief, is spreading fast, and, no longer confined to young men of fashion as their exclusive prerogative, is descending to the lower classes of the community, who, discontented and repining, and debarred from all means of enlightenment, look upon the blended temporal and spiritual system of their Government with the same hostility and mistrust.
Towards the close of the Holy Week however the whole population becomes compulsorily devout. The parochial clergy go round to every house in their jurisdiction, taking down the names and ages of the inhabitants, and delivering to all a ticket filled up with their name, requiring them to repair, within a given period, to the parish church, for confession and communion. Any freewill-offering, any spontaneous act of grace in these religious duties, is thus lost; and with the young men especially, prender Pasqua, as it is termed, becomes a most irksome task, which they endeavour to shuffle over, or resort to every expedient and deception to evade altogether. The Government however has always been very strict in enforcing this ordinance, with the political view of maintaining its fast-waning influence through the confessional, going even the length of refusing pontifical subjects their passports, if they require to travel, when it can be proved that they have neglected their Easter duties—an odious abuse of authority, tending to bring religion into contempt.