I think the most popular and most crowded sight (excepting those of
Easter Sunday and Monday, which are open to all classes of people)
was the Pope washing the feet of Thirteen men, representing the
twelve apostles, and Judas Iscariot. The place in which this pious
office is performed, is one of the chapels of St. Peter’s, which is
gaily decorated for the occasion; the thirteen sitting, ‘all of a
row,’ on a very high bench, and looking particularly uncomfortable,
with the eyes of Heaven knows how many English, French, Americans,
Swiss, Germans, Russians, Swedes, Norwegians, and other foreigners,
nailed to their faces all the time. They are robed in white; and
on their heads they wear a stiff white cap, like a large English
porter-pot, without a handle. Each carries in his hand, a nosegay,
of the size of a fine cauliflower; and two of them, on this
occasion, wore spectacles; which, remembering the characters they
sustained, I thought a droll appendage to the costume. There was a
great eye to character. St. John was represented by a good-looking
young man. St. Peter, by a grave-looking old gentleman, with a
flowing brown beard; and Judas Iscariot by such an enormous
hypocrite (I could not make out, though, whether the expression of
his face was real or assumed) that if he had acted the part to the
death and had gone away and hanged himself, he would have left
nothing to be desired.
As the two large boxes, appropriated to ladies at this sight, were
full to the throat, and getting near was hopeless, we posted off,
along with a great crowd, to be in time at the Table, where the
Pope, in person, waits on these Thirteen; and after a prodigious
struggle at the Vatican staircase, and several personal conflicts
with the Swiss guard, the whole crowd swept into the room. It was
a long gallery hung with drapery of white and red, with another
great box for ladies (who are obliged to dress in black at these
ceremonies, and to wear black veils), a royal box for the King of
Naples and his party; and the table itself, which, set out like a
ball supper, and ornamented with golden figures of the real
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Dickens, Charles – Pictures From Italy
apostles, was arranged on an elevated platform on one side of the
gallery. The counterfeit apostles’ knives and forks were laid out
on that side of the table which was nearest to the wall, so that
they might be stared at again, without let or hindrance.
The body of the room was full of male strangers; the crowd immense;
the heat very great; and the pressure sometimes frightful. It was
at its height, when the stream came pouring in, from the feetwashing;
and then there were such shrieks and outcries, that a
party of Piedmontese dragoons went to the rescue of the Swiss
guard, and helped them to calm the tumult.
The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for
places. One lady of my acquaintance was seized round the waist, in
the ladies’ box, by a strong matron, and hoisted out of her place;
and there was another lady (in a back row in the same box) who
improved her position by sticking a large pin into the ladies
before her.
The gentlemen about me were remarkably anxious to see what was on
the table; and one Englishman seemed to have embarked the whole
energy of his nature in the determination to discover whether there
was any mustard. ‘By Jupiter there’s vinegar!’ I heard him say to
his friend, after he had stood on tiptoe an immense time, and had
been crushed and beaten on all sides. ‘And there’s oil! I saw
them distinctly, in cruets! Can any gentleman, in front there, see
mustard on the table? Sir, will you oblige me! DO you see a
Mustard-Pot?’
The apostles and Judas appearing on the platform, after much
expectation, were marshalled, in line, in front of the table, with
Peter at the top; and a good long stare was taken at them by the
company, while twelve of them took a long smell at their nosegays,
and Judas – moving his lips very obtrusively – engaged in inward