Roman Pin Money

— During the winter months vespers seem verily to be sung in St. Peter’s for the benefit of pretty American girls and sandy-haired Englishmen, but the most picturesque of the church ceremonies is, after all, reserved for the Romans themselves. Eight days after Corpus Christi comes the Thursday known as the festa delle ammantate, or " festival of the veiled ones.” All the afternoon the omnibuses for St. Peter’s are besieged by a crowd of eager, selfasserting, but ever-courteous people. Priests, nuns, Trasteverine women resplendent in massive gold chains and earrings, and Romans of the lower middle class are packed into them, and after fighting and jostling each other to get seats, converse sociably all the way, making merry over the poor unfortunates who are not sufficiently strong of elbow and determination to be of their number. The piazza of St. Peter’s is quite alive with people and carriages, and crowds are ascending the sloping staircase. Lifting the heavy leathern curtain over the doorway, one hears a low hum of voices which proclaims St. Peter’s the passeggiata, or promenade, rather than the church of the people. All about this richest, brightest, of marble sanctuaries are little family groups waiting for the ceremony ; acolytes and members of the different confraternities hurry to and fro, in the excitement of ecclesiastical housekeeping, and here and there a Monsignore in his lace cotta and purple robes lights the scene with a vivid dash of color.

This day the Daughters of St. Peter’s take their dowries ; and every one should see this old-world feature of Roman life. It is the custom, every year, for the parish of St. Peter’s to give about seventy or eighty dowries of a hundred and a hundred and fifty francs each (twenty or thirty dollars), to be doubled in the case of girls who decide to take the veil. Girls must have a certificate of poverty and good conduct from their parish priest, be of Roman parentage on both sides, and have attained the age of sixteen, in order to compete for this bounty. The question is decided by the drawing of lots. Of course Dame Rumor says a little timely influence in high places is apt to have its effect.

Soon the confraternities begin to conglomerate into small bodies. We wonder why so many of the men carry belted around their waists small leather pouches Half filled with green leaves ; but it is soon explained, for when the procession is formed, and they lift up the colossal rustic crosses wreathed in ivy, we see that without these rests, in which they are poised, it would be impossible to bear them erect and motionless. As it is, the men have to relieve each other now and then. First come the Brethren of St. John in their scarlet gowns, bealing gay pictured banners and crucifixes ; a confraternity attired in blue follow, with waxen candles ; and after them come the lugubrious Company of the Dead, robed from head to foot in black, with weird slits for the eyes. The procession winds along the box and laurel strewn aisle to a small doorway on the left hand of the choir, where a dense crowd almost conceals it from view. Here every one awaits the great spectacle of the afternoon, until even proverbial Italian patience is worn threadbare. At last several maggior domi appear, and clear a wide track ; a subdued cry is heard, — " Eccoli, eccoli! ”—and behold it comes, led by a white-haired old man in dark blue small-clothes with silver buttons, scarlet waistcoat, white silk stockings, and buckled shoes, carrying a truncheon. He is followed by the confraternities. and then appears what seems at first a great flock of doves, but upon a nearer view reveals itself as a gliding procession of young girls clothed in white, holding tall lighted tapers, and looking downward as if in " maiden meditation fancy free.” They glisten as though they had bathed in some magical silver light, yet when you have recovered from the first effect of this pure picture in its gorgeous setting, you perceive by what simple means the dazzling result is wrought out. Their dresses are of some Soft light material, and the veils, which fall to their feet, are of fine lawn. These do not cover their faces, but are edged with lace or ruching, making a dainty frame for the many pretty Southern faces. A sort of lawn muffler covers the mouth and chin, — dimly suggesting Eastern customs. Veils and mufflers are made rich and rare by an elaborate embroidery of common pins! These are thrust into the goods in the most elaborate patterns, suns, stars, flowers, etc., forming a brocade of cloth of silver. Each maid carries by long silken cords a white reticule, supposed to hold the dowry, but really containing only a paper with her number on it. They file by in couples, and after them walk the chanting monks and dignitaries in full canonicals, with “ bell, book, and candle,” carrying the Host under a colossal silk umbrella, which flaps in everybody’s face and forces backwards the over-eager bystanders. The train of over three hundred monks, priests, and girls proceeds out into the portico (in papal times it was customary for them to make a tour of the square) ; then the great main portals are thrown open, and against a background of evening sky, all amethyst, opal, and rose, the flickering lights of the varied procession advance slowly up the nave to the high altar. Back of that, in the choir, the “ veiled ones " kneel while Ave Maria is sung. A man comes around to collect the candles and silk bags, which are only lent for the occasion. The money itself is given when the girl actually marries or enters a convent ; and if. after all, she does neither, the money is a dead letter.

The ceremony is now over, each ammantata, is taken possession of by proud, happy relatives, and the vast throng pours out into the piazza, where the evening air blows refreshingly on the hot cheeks of future brides, who find veils and mufflers more becoming than comfortable, late in the month of June.