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A FLORENTINE EASTER EVE.

By C. H. M. BRIDGE.

"Se la Colomba non fallisce,

"Tutto il popolo gioisce.”—Gigi.

IT is Easter Eve-Sabato Santo-in the City of Flowers. What a change from yesterday, when the streets were deserted and the temples were thronged; when the voice of the preacher and the notes of the organ echoing from every church, called upon high and low to lay aside all thought of self, and to come and mourn by the open tomb. To-day the pulpit is voiceless, and officials are busy taking down, and putting out of sight till next year, the mourning cloths and hangings which, for the past fortnight, have covered pictures and ornaments in church and chapel.

The streets of Florence are thronged with an cager, anxious crowd. Country folk are pouring into the city through all its gates-from Valdarno and Val di Greve, from Fiesole and Impruneta, from Santa Margherita and Settignano. Happily, a glorious sun is shining overhead, so there is nothing to damp the ardour of the pilgrims. If you listen to what they are saying in their voluble Tuscan, you are sure to catch such words as "Colombina" and "Carro," for to-day is to take place the great annual pageant—farce, one might almost call it—of "Lo Scoppio del Carro" (the "Letting off, or Igniting of the Car").

This Car, dilapidated and tumble-down, hanging together as by a miracle, is already in situ before the great West door of the Cathedral-Santa Maria del Fiore. At eight o'clock in the morning, it was brought thither in solemn procession, drawn by four sturdy, cream-coloured oxen, from its home, Sul Prato. Once they used to keep it in Borg' allegri, that dark and narrow

street near Santa Croce, which has not yet lost the name the jubilant shouts of a delighted people gave to it, when Cimabue's wonderful Madonna was carried along it, amid the rejoicings of the whole city, from the painter's workshop to its place of honour-where it still hangs-over the altar in the Dominican Church of Santa Maria Novella. Now they keep it—the Carin quarters built especially for it, "on the Meadow"-the recreation ground within, that is, of old walled Florence.

Who can tell the history of the Car? There are some who say it is the self-same car of triumph on which the valiant Pazzo dei Pazzi made his entry into his native city after he had distinguished himself by sundry acts of prowess in the first Crusade.

These Pazzi were a fine old family, and though after the conspiracy called after them and aimed against Lorenzo the Magnificent (whose brother Giuliano actually lost his life before the high altar of Sta. Maria del Fiore, done to death by Francesco dei Pazzi), it was decreed that the ceremony of the Colombina should cease, that the very name of the family should be forgotten, and their arms erased from all houses and churches in Florence; still the chapel at Santa Croce is known by their name; still the Car halts at the Canto der Pazzi; still their arms, two golden dolphins on a field azure with four crosses, appear on the fronts of many houses in the Borgo Degli Albizzi; and still, year after year, the Colombina is ignited by the Sacred Fire amid much shouting and crowding and huzzaing. For the race was more ancient than that of the Medici, against whose supremacy in their native city they had lifted their hands. Their origin, indeed, is veiled in the mists of heroic fable. Did they come from the lordly family of the same name in the Arno Valley, or from the old Etruscan fort-crowned hill of Fiesole? Any way, all Florentines believe in the exploit of Pazzo dei Pazzi when he was fighting for the Cross against the infidel under the great Captain, Godfrey de Bouillon. For, whatsoever their origin, the Pazzi were a race of heroes and had deserved well of their country. One, Jacopo dei Pazzi, had borne the banner of Florence on the bloody field of Montaperti, in 1260, and having had his hands hewn off by the traitor Bocca degli Abati, he clasped the dear ensign to his breast with his bleeding stumps, and-loyal to the last-held it close till death relaxed his grasp. Guelphic Florence was not likely to forget so doughty a deed, and, because of it, gave all the readier credence to the tales of the valorous acts of that earlier Pazzi, Pazzo, and of the trium

phal entry into his native city which his admiring countrymen had awarded him in recognition of his great services to Christendom against the foul Paynim that was defiling the sepulchre of their Lord. Those were days when even money-making, moneyloving Florence knew there were nobler guerdons for their distinguished sons than mere riches, so they built a car for him, and invited Florence (for that was before the bright Easter morning when the gay young bridegroom of the house of Buondelmonti was slain upon the bridge) followed him on foot to swell his triumph.

People, say, that this car of the Colombina is that of Pazzi's procession in the eleventh century, but the car, time-worn and weather-beaten as it is, disproves this theory. It is probably about two hundred years old, as the ornamentation on its panels shows. It is hardly likely even that the smallest fragment exists of an older car designed by Timmintocche, a Dominican, and executed at the expense of the State by one Andrea di Becco, who had his workshop in old days on the Ponte alla Carraia. This work of Maestro Andrea's cost the city thirty-six florins and five crazie, exclusive of gratuities to the apprentices, and thirty-two paoli to Il Granata for the paintings with which its sides were adorned. Florence was very proud of this master-piece, which when it was completed, was exposed to public view; and the Prior made proclamation that every Holy Saturday it should be drawn to Saint Mary of the Flower by four oxen decked with olives and ribbons, and should there "assist" at the Mass of the Dove, which said dove should ignite certain bombs "in honour of religion and the Pazzi." Further, anyone who should damage or deface the car, was to be punished with five stripes.

However much opinions may differ as to the antiquity and origin of the car, all are agreed about the sacred fire, the Lumen Christi, which plays a no less important part in the ceremonies or Easter eve in Florence than the car aforesaid.

In the Basilica Church of the Holy Apostles, standing secluded between the two great popular gathering-places in Florence, the Piazza della Signoria and the approach to the markets, is still preserved, the reward-the sole reward his pious soul craved-of the distinguished valour of Pazzo dei Pazzi.

This Scion of an illustrious Florentine house-so illustrious that to escape perpetual exclusion from the magistracy of their native city, its members were compelled to accept at the hands of

Cosmo de' Medici the grace of being numbered amongst the people,* and raised to the rank of plebeians-had covered himself with glory at the siege of Ptolemais, and was the first in a certain assault to mount the walls of Jerusalem. Moved to enthusiastic admiration by his doughty deeds, the “great Captain" offered him as recompense anything he chose to ask. Like the true middle-age Christian Knight that he was, he asked for nothing more (or nothing less, shall we say?) than a stone from that Holy Sepulchre which had been violated by the accursed Paynim. His pious request was unhesitatingly granted, and after the famous penitential procession of the Christian host to the Sacred Shrine, Pazzo received the stone.

On his return home, this his most prized treasure was laid up in the Church of San Biagio, whence it was subsequently removed to that of the Holy Apostles on the banks of Arno, and from it is struck every Holy Saturday the Sacred Fire. There is no lack of pomp or circumstance in the ceremony of kindling the Fire. A procession of priests and choir-boys gets out at Tierce (somewhere about nine of the morning by modern time, or ora di Francia, as the Italians call it) from the Cathedral, and preceded by a servant in the full-dress livery of the Pazzi family, winds its way down the Via dei Calzaioli to the SS. Apostoli. Arrived there, the officiating priest strikes the famous stone and kindles the sacred fire. Then the great quattrocento lantern with the arms of the Guelph faction-a blood-red, one-headed eagle holding in its talons the vanquished green dragon of the Ghibellines-is lighted from the flame, and the procession returns, bearing the lantern, to the great Metropolitan Church. A solemn service beneath the huge dome succeeds, and every taper is lighted from the fuoco sacro. There is a great gathering of clergy and singers canons and chaplains, as they are technically called, in lace-trimmed surplices and fur-lined tippets, with crimson and violet adornments; and choristers in marvellously plaited cottas fastened at the throat with scarlet bows. They must be weary of the lengthy offices. One wonders how some of the aged, feeble-looking canons can hold out through them; and many of the black-eyed Italian choirboys give evident signs of being sadly bored.

A diversion is created by the visit to the Baptistry for the pur

*As Villani says of another: "Messer Antonio di Baldinaccio degli Adimari, tutto che fosse de piu grandi e nobili, PER GRAZIA era messo tra 'l popolo,"