Irish Jesuit Province

An Italian De ProfundisAuthor(s): J. G.Source: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 43, No. 509 (Nov., 1915), pp. 733-735Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20503814 .

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[ 733 ]

AN ITALIAN DE PROFUNDIS

I T was a small town in the shadow of the Graian Alps.

The old Savoyard stock still remained,, its spirit was,

still in the people, and the patois they spoke was a

strange mixture of rural French and Italian. They were not all that the parroco would have wished them to be, still

they were good simple folk. They kept the feast-days always, and the first of November was one of these. When it came

round the men did aot work in the fields; they enjoyed

rather the one holiday that came while the wine was ferment

ing. They spoke once more among themselves of the suc

cess of thelr vintage, and once more invited each other to come and taste the new wine on St. Martin's day, now not

far off. The women put on their best and brightest silk

handkerchiefs over their heads and wore their newest clogs5 and they met outside the church when Mass was over to

criticise the way in which the sacristan rang the joybells that morning and on the preceding night. The shops were closed and the streets were still.

As the day wore on things seemed to change, and by even

ing a new spirit seemed to have taken possession of the

people. It was very different from the evening of any other

feast-day. All signs of gladness and rejoicing were gone3 the bells no longer rang, but here and there from a village

church on the hills came the first peals of the slow funeral

dirge. The streets were no longer deserted-on the contrary the town seemed more than usually busy. Everywhere one

saw men pushing barrows and handearts full of wreaths of

flowers and boughs of myrtle, and a continuous stream of

people passed out of the town by the road that led across the

plain.

This plain extended for many miles before the town, a vast

extent of tilled land of almost unvaried monotony. Its even

surface was broken not quite a mile from the town by some

tall yews and taller poplars that grew about an enclosure,

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734 TH E HRISH MONTHLY

on one side of which stood a smnall chapel conlspicuous with

its pointed gables and tall thiin spire surmounted by a cross.

It was hither the stream of people wended its way, for after

the " Day of the Saints" comes the " Day of the Dead." Next morning a pall seemed to hang over the town. Even

business was transacted in an undertone, and at some time

or other during the day each one 1n turn joined one of the

groups of black-robed figures that went out the road across

the plain, telling their beads softly as they went, and re

turned in silence with tear-stained downcast eyes. I, too, moved by curiosity, went to the cenetery. I had

been there before and was not unusually impressed by the

appeara,nce of the square space dotted with unpretentious

crosses of marble or iron, and surrounded oni all sides by

porticoes containing the graves of the more notable dead.

But now an air of the gravest solemnity hung about the

place. Each tomb was crowned with large wreaths brought

-there on the preceding evening by the friends of the dead

ones, and before each cross and monumeent there burned a

,dim light. The day was dull and clouded, and the effect of

these glimmering lights peering among the dark shades of

the yews, and casting dull rays on the fresh-cut flowers was

to fill one with a sense of awe. Figures moved about

silently, and the only sound heard was the low murmur of

fervent prayers that came from howed figures by the

,gravesides.

It was about four o'clock, and dusk was already coming

on when I turned to leave. As I went from the cemetery

to the road I saw a long procession coining from the town.

I waited, and slowly the crowd moved towards me. It was

headed by a vested priest, accompanied by acolytes bearing

a cross and lighted candles. Behind themi came a long line

of black-clothed women and sad-faced men. All were recit

ing the rosary aloud.

When they entered the graveyard there was a short pause In their prayer. It was as if for a moment all were over

,come by the thought that now they were nearer to their dead.

'Then the prayer was resumed. Round every path walked

priest and people; the prayers and responses of the rosary

rose and fell; and as each one camne by the resting-place

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AN ITALIAN DE PROFUNDIS 735

of his own loved ones, sobs replaced his words, and when his

voice was heard again it was tremulous and broken.

Then all assembled in the open space in the centre. A cross stood there, and at the foot of thiLs the priest stood and

addressed the crowd. HTe was beyond middle age, and had known his people for many years. He had shared in all

their sorrows and had come with them individually to this very spot to bless their friends who were being laid in their last resting-place. Now he reminded them of this. He spoke to them of their dead, and of that vast other world

where souls cry with longing entreaty to those on earth whose prayers can still help them, and lead them out of .suffering. He spoke to every heart, he knew the way to every soul, and many a dimned eye dropped further tears at his words.

The most impressive seene was to come. His sermnon finished, the priest bade all join in the " De Profundis" for

their loved ones who were gone. " Out of the depths," he began. All dropped to the ground; some hid their faces in their hands, seeing again the vision of those outstretched hands held towards them in piteous appeal, some looked up to the Figure on the cross towards which the priest extended

his hand with the words, " have I cried unto Thee, 0 Lord."

The response came in a wailing tone " Lord, hear my voice,",

and as the priest raised his voice with them again, crying to

God, "c Oh, let Thine ears consider well the voice of my

supplication," the great mass could only easwer with a sob, and to the rest of the prayer the only response was a sobbing

cry.

That wail must have pierced the heavens. If ever a crowd called on God for mercy for their departed it was that peasant gathering. And round the graves they went agaiin in groups when the great concourse dispersed, and broken prayers and gentle sobbing could be heard until darkness came down, and only the flickering lights of the lamps could be seen through the shadows. Many a soul released that

hour miust have looked down with love from the newly gained heights of heaven on that throng, and begged mercy for the mourners when their hour of need should come.

J. G.

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