. Ladies go for hours before the singing begins, and
make a grand rush when the doors are open. I do not know any sight so
unseemly and cruel as a crowd of women intent on getting in to such a
ceremony: they are perfectly rude and unmerciful to each other. They
push and trample one another under foot; veils and dresses are torn;
ladies faint away in the scrimmage, and only the strongest and most
unscrupulous get in. I have heard some say, who have been in the
pellmell, that, not content with elbowing and pushing and pounding, some
women even stick pins into those who are in the way. I hope this latter
is not true; but it is certain that the conduct of most of the women is
brutal. A weak or modest or timid woman stands no more chance than
she would in a herd of infuriated Campagna cattle. The same scenes
are enacted in the efforts to see the pope wash feet, and serve at the
table. For the possession of the seats under the dome on Palm Sunday
and Easter there is a like crush. The ceremonies do not begin until
half-past nine; but ladies go between five and six o'clock in the
morning, and when the passages are open they make a grand rush. The
seats, except those saved for the nobility, are soon all taken, and the
ladies who come after seven are lucky if they can get within the charmed
circle, and find a spot to sit down on a campstool. They can then see
only a part of the proceedings, and have a weary, exhausting time of it
for hours. This year Rome is more crowded than ever before. There are
American ladies enough to fill all the reserved places; and I fear they
are energetic enough to get their share of them.

It rained Sunday; but there was a steady stream of people and carriages
all the morning pouring over the Bridge of St. Angelo, and discharging
into the piazza of St. Peter's. It was after nine when I arrived on the
ground. There was a crowd of carriages under the colonnades, and a heavy
fringe in front of them; but the hundreds of people moving over the
piazza, and up the steps to the entrances, made only the impression of
dozens in the vast space. I do not know if there are people enough in
Rome to fill St. Peter's; certainly there was no appearance of a crowd
as we entered, although they had been pouring in all the morning, and
still thronged the doors. I heard a traveler say that he followed ten
thousand soldiers into the church, and then lost them from sight: they
disappeared in the side chapels. He did not make