Equally unfavourable were our first impressions of the town, as we drove through a narrow street, lined on each side with booths, where every description of medals, chaplets, rosaries, and other objects of devotion lay exposed for sale, which we were loudly called upon to purchase. Slipshod women, their black hair escaping, matted and disordered, from the coloured handkerchiefs bound about their heads; beggars in every stage and form of human misery—blind, palsied, maimed; squalid children; lean, fighting dogs; portly priests; dirty pilgrims with staff and scallop-shell: such is the appearance of the crowd that greets the traveller on entering Loretto.
On reaching the inn, we found a fresh assemblage of mendicants drawn up in array in the courtyard; objects so dirty and revolting, that one involuntarily shrunk from contact with them: and clamorous, even peremptory, in their demands, which are in general liberally complied with. Their trade is supposed to be a thriving one, since the majority of persons repairing to the town, do so from religious motives, and esteem this promiscuous alms-giving a stringent duty. Besides these, we encountered upon the unswept stairs several women with baskets of rosaries and medals, which they kept importuning us to buy, that we might have them blessed at the Santa Casa; and lastly, two or three tottering old men waylaid us on the landing, and pressingly offered themselves as our ciceroni to the shrine. But it was too late, or rather we were too weary for any more sight-seeing that day; and as soon as dinner was concluded, we were glad enough to betake ourselves to repose.
Recruited by a night of well-earned sleep, the next morning found us assembled in the general sala of the inn, waiting for breakfast and the return of the V—— family, who, the servants told us, had gone out soon after dawn. They speedily came in with cheerful faces, having fulfilled all the devotional exercises prescribed to devout Roman Catholics on their first visit to the Santa Casa, and were now ready to enter cordially into the survey of the church and all the curiosities it contained.
While we were still at table, we heard a voice in rich oily tones, accompanied by a boisterous laugh, inquiring for the Signorine Inglesi. Presently a short, stout, very stout, priest entered the room, and, apostrophized as il Signor Canonico, was greeted by my cousins with unfeigned friendliness. It appeared he had known the family some years before, having been the curate of their parish in Ancona. The exercise of his duties used occasionally to lead him to my uncle's house—at such times, for instance, as blessing it at Easter, or distributing the tickets for confession to the servants—opportunities which he never failed to improve in a little attempt at converting the signorine. Now it would be the present of a life of Santa Filomena, or some other saintly legend, which they were implored to substitute for other reading; or again, a medal or relic to be suspended round their necks, and win them to the fold. These simple devices invariably proving abortive, the poor padre would shake his head, look at them with tears in his eyes, and plunging his hand into a capacious pocket, draw thence a goodly packet of sugar-plums, in the discussion whereof all controversial bitterness was soon forgotten.
These amicable relations had for some time been suspended, owing to his prospering in the world, and having been translated to a canon's stall at Loretto—evidently an easy and thriving post. As soon as the first expressions of pleasure at this unexpected meeting were over, the canonico was introduced in form to the V——s, the officers, and the cugina forestiera, and had a varied compliment for each member of the party; after which, without the slightest modulation of voice, but rather, if possible, pitching it in a higher key, and with an indescribable play of feature and vivacity of gesture, he began inveighing against his young friends for not giving him timely notice that they were coming to Loretto, when they might have eaten due bocconi (two mouthfuls) at his house. Precisely for this reason, they replied, had they determined not to apprize him beforehand, knowing his hospitality would have led to the commission of some pazzia or folly upon their account. At this pleasantry he laughed and wheezed till he was nearly black in the face; but on recovering his breath, insisted that, although it was certainly too late to think of preparing a dinner, they should not be let off so easily as they expected, and must therefore, with all the honourable company—making a circular movement with his hands—come at noon and take la cioccolata under his poor roof.
The good man was clearly so much in earnest, that it would have been ungracious to decline, and an appointment was accordingly made for that hour. This important business being satisfactorily adjusted, he took his leave, and we set forth to visit the fane where pilgrim-kings have worshipped.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Santa Casa—Pilgrims—The treasury—Exquisite statues and bassi-rilievi—Chocolate at the Canonico's—La Signora Placida—A survey of the house—The rich vestments.
Strangers were evidently no rarity in Loretto, and the admiring gaze of the population did not greet our appearance as at Umana. Simply looked upon as travellers, and legitimate objects of prey, we were soon beset by the vendors of the trinkets peculiar to the place, and imposed on without mercy. I have no hesitation in saying that the corone, or chaplets, with which the midshipmen persisted in filling their pockets, and the bracelets of ten beads called corone alla moda—an indefinite supply whereof l'officier marié seemed to consider indispensable to his wife—were charged them at least three times their value. The main street, already noticed, opens upon a spacious square, adorned by a fountain and two handsome colonnades, and flanked by the palace of the bishop and the Jesuits' College; at the upper end, on arising ground, stands the church of the Santa Casa, a large and commanding edifice.
The interior is profusely decorated, and contains numerous side-chapels enriched with pictures in mosaic; but the object on which the eye first rests on entering is a structure of an oblong form of white Carrara marble, completely incrusted with statues, Corinthian columns, and exquisite bass-reliefs, placed on a platform accessible by three or four broad steps, immediately beneath the cupola. This is the far-famed Holy House, or, more properly speaking, the costly building raised over the reputed cottage of Nazareth, at once to impede its future migrations, and preserve it for the edification of the faithful. Passing into the sacred tabernacle, a gorgeous vision strikes upon the senses—golden lamps, suspended from the ceiling, shed a mellow but subdued light upon an altar, where jewelled chalices, crucifixes, and candelabras are arrayed in glittering profusion, surmounted by an image, whence literally a blaze of diamonds is radiating. Here prostrate forms are always seen, and brows bent low in penance or adoration; and here many a guilt-worn wretch, coming from distant realms, in penury and toil, has sunk rejoicing on his knees, and deemed his pardon won!