arms pinned to our sides, and hardly able to breathe, we fought our way,
street by street, to the little square by the bridge of St. Angelo. The
bridge itself was crammed with people; beyond it, there were more
crowds, which seemed to stretch all the way to St. Peter's. The right
bank of the Tiber swarmed like an ant-hill. Crossing the bridge was a
hard job; it took us over a quarter of an hour. The poor devils on each
side, in their fear of being pushed over the edge, clutched the parapet
madly, and shouted with terror; I believe there were several accidents.

"Well, at last we got across. All the streets leading to the Piazza of
St. Peter were choked with human beings. When we reached the foot of one
of the two streets that run straight to St. Peter's we heard a great
roar, like the noise of the sea in a gale; it seemed to come to us in
gusts, now near by, now a long way off. It was the noise of the crowd in
the square before St. Peter's. We rushed ahead more madly than ever;
climbing over each other, carried along, pushed, swept, and dragged,
till at last we reached the square. God, if you could have seen it!--
What a spectacle!--The whole huge square was jammed, black, swarming; no
longer a square, but an ocean. All around the outer edge, between the
four lines of columns, on the steps of the church, in the portico, on
the great terraced roof, in the outer galleries of the dome, on the
capitals of the columns, on the very pilasters; in the windows of the
houses to the right of the square, on the balconies, on the leads,
above, below, to the right and to the left, wherever a human being could
find foothold, wherever there was some projection to cling to or to
dangle from, everywhere there were heads, arms, legs, banners, shouts,
gesticulations. The whole of Rome was there."

"Heavens! ... And the Vatican?" the women cried, in a tremble.