ood, and during their domination they could easily have
assumed actual possession of it as a private property. A very curious
custom, which survived in the sixteenth century, and perhaps much later,
bears witness to the close connection between their family and the
church. At that time a gallery existed, accessible from the palace and
looking down into the basilica, so that the family could assist at Mass
without leaving their dwelling.

On the afternoon of the first of May, which is the traditional feast of
this church, the poor of the neighbourhood assembled within. The windows
of the palace gallery were then thrown open and a great number of fat
fowls were thrown alive to the crowd, turkeys, geese and the like, to
flutter down to the pavement and be caught by the luckiest of the people
in a tumultuous scramble. When this was over, a young pig was swung out
and lowered in slings by a purchase of which the block was seized to a
roof beam. When just out of reach the rope was made fast, and the most
active of the men jumped for the animal from below, till one was
fortunate enough to catch it with his hands, when the rope was let go,
and he carried off the prize. The custom was evidently similar to that
of climbing the May-pole, which was set up on the same day in the Campo
Vaccino. May-day was one of the oldest festivals of the Romans, for it
was sacred to the tutelary Lares, or spirits of ancestors, and was kept
holy, both publicly by the whole city as the habitation of the Roman
people, and by each family in its private dwelling. It is of Aryan
origin and is remembered in one way or another by all Aryan races in our
own time, and it is not surprising that in the general conversion of
Paganism to Christianity a new feast should have been intentionally made
to coincide with an old one; but it is hard to understand the lack of
all reverence for sacred places which could admit such a scene as the
scrambling for live fowls and pigs in honour of the twelve Apostles, a
pious exercise which is perhaps paralleled, though assuredly not
equalled, in crudeness, by the old Highland custom of smoking tobacco in
kirk throughout the sermon.

At the very time when we have historical record of a Pope's presence as
an amused spectator of the proceedings, Michelangelo had lately painted
the ceiling of the Sixtine chapel, and had not yet begun his Last
Judgment; and 'Diva' Vittoria Colonna, not yet the friend of his later
years, was perha