"The head of the procession had arrived at the top of the street when— crack! pop!—went forty or fifty crackers, which had been placed against the walls of a house near us, and which added wonderfully to the solemnity of the scene, and, accordingly, were repeated every few seconds, forming a fine accompaniment to the waltzes and the chanting of the monks. In a few minutes all the beauty of the flower-carpeted street was trodden out, and the last of the procession had hardly passed before all the flowers disappeared from the pillars, and all was ruin and disorder.
"The procession halted at a temporary altar at the top of the street, and we set out on our return at the same moment down the street, facing the immense multitude which filled the whole street. We had scarcely proceeded a third of the distance down when we suddenly saw all before us uncovered and upon their knees. We alone formed an exception, and we continued our course with various hints from those around us to stop and kneel, which we answered by talking English to each other in a louder tone, and so passed for unchristian forestieri, and escaped unmolested, especially as the soldiers were all at the head of the street.
"The effect, however, was exceedingly grand of such a multitude upon their knees, and, could I have divested myself of the thought of the compulsory measures which produced it and the object to which they knelt, the picture of the Virgin, I should have felt the solemnity of a scene which seemed in the outward act to indicate such a universal reverence for Him who alone rightfully claims the homage and devotion of the heart."
Whether this curious custom still persists in Genzano I know not;
Baedeker is silent on the subject.
It was nearly dark before they started on the drive back to Rome, and quite dark after they had gone a short distance.
"We passed the tombs of the Horatii and Curiatii, which looked much grander in the light of the torches than in the day, and, driving hastily through Albano, came upon the Campagna once more. It was still more like a desert in the night than in the day, for it was an interminable ocean, and the masses of ruins, coming darker than the rest, seemed like deserted wrecks upon its bosom.
"It is considered dangerous in the summer to sleep while crossing the Campagna; indeed, in certain parts of it, over the Pontine Marshes in July and August, it is said to be certain, death, but, if the traveller can keep awake, there is no danger. In spite of the fears which we naturally entertained lest it might be already dangerous, most of us could not avoid sleeping, nor could I, with every effort made for that purpose."
The days following his return to Rome were employed chiefly in copying at the Colonna Palace. The heat was now beginning to grow more oppressive, and we find this note on June 21:—
"In the cool of the morning you see the doors of the cafes thronged with people taking their coffee and sitting on chairs in the streets for some distance round. At mezzo giorno the streets are deserted, the shop-doors are closed, and all is still; they have all gone to their siesta, their midday sleep. At four o'clock all is bustle again; it seems a fresh morning; the streets and cafés are thronged and the Corso is filled with the equipages of the wealthy, enjoying till quite dark the cool of the evening air.
"The sun is now oppressively warm; the heat is unlike anything I have felt in America. There is a scorching character about it which is indescribable, and the glare of the light is exceedingly painful to the eyes. The evenings are delightful, cool and clear, showing the lustre of the stars gloriously.