Mr. Motley tells me, that it was formerly the custom to have a mock
funeral of harlequin, who was supposed to die at the close of the
Carnival, during which he had reigned supreme, and all the people, or as
many as chose, bore torches at his burial. But this being considered an
indecorous mockery of Popish funereal customs, the present frolic of the
moccoli was instituted,--in some sort, growing out of it.
All last night, or as much of it as I was awake, there was a noise of
song and of late revellers in the streets; but to-day we have waked up in
the sad and sober season of Lent.
It is worthy of remark, that all the jollity of the Carnival is a genuine
ebullition of spirit, without the aid of wine or strong drink.
March 11th.--Yesterday we went to the Catacomb of St. Calixtus, the
entrance to which is alongside of the Appian Way, within sight of the
tomb of Cecilia Metella. We descended not a very great way under ground,
by a broad flight of stone steps, and, lighting some wax tapers, with
which we had provided ourselves, we followed the guide through a great
many intricate passages, which mostly were just wide enough for me to
touch the wall on each side, while keeping my elbows close to my body;
and as to height, they were from seven to ten feet, and sometimes a good
deal higher It was rather picturesque, when we saw the long line of our
tapers, for another large party had joined us, twinkling along the dark
passage, and it was interesting to think of the former inhabitants of
these caverns.
Pages:
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764