Asiago in 1817,
mentions that the Cimbri have the Celtic custom of _waking_ the dead.
"If a traveller dies by the way, they plant a cross upon the spot,
and all who pass by cast a stone upon his cairn. Some go in certain
seasons in the year to high places and woods, where it is supposed
they worshiped their divinities, but the origin of the custom is
forgot amongst themselves." If a man dies by violence, they lay him
out with his hat and shoes on, as if to give him the appearance of a
wayfarer, and "symbolize one surprised in the great journey of life."
A woman dying in childbed is dressed for the grave in her bridal
ornaments. Mr. Rose is very scornful of the notion that these people
are Cimbri, and holds that it is "more consonant to all the evidence
of history to say, that the flux and reflux of Teutonic invaders
at different periods deposited this backwater of barbarians" in the
district they now inhabit. "The whole space, which in addition to
the seven burghs contains twenty-four villages, is bounded by rivers,
alps, and hills. Its most precise limits are the Brenta to the east,
and the Astico to the west."] They are, of course, subject to the
Austrian Government, but not so strictly as the Italians are; and
though they are taxed and made to do military service, they are
otherwise left to regulate their affairs pretty much at their
pleasure.

The Capo ended his discourse with much polite regret that he had
nothing more worthy to tell us; and, as if to make us amends for
having come so far to learn so little, he said there was a hermit
living near, whom we might like to see, and sent his son to conduct us
to the hermitage. It turned out to be the white object which we had
seen gleaming in the wood on the mountain from so great distance
below, and the wood turned out to be a pleasant beechen grove, in
which we found the hermit cutting fagots. He was warmly dressed in
clothes without rent, and wore the clerical knee-breeches. He saluted
us with a cricket-like chirpiness of manner, and was greatly amazed to
hear that we had come all the way from America to visit him. His
hermitage was built upon the side of a white-washed chapel to St.
Francis, and contained three or four little rooms or cupboards, in
which the hermit dwelt and meditated. They opened into the chapel, of
which the hermit had the care, and which he kept neat and clean like
himself. He told us proudly that once a year, on the day of the
titular saint, a