On arriving
at the church gate, the fellow who bore the pole stuck it into the ground
with a loud huzza, and the train, forming two ranks, defiled into the
church on either side of the pole and its strange ornaments. On the
conclusion of the ceremony, they returned in the same manner in which
they had come.
Throughout the day there was nothing going on but singing, drinking,
feasting, and dancing; but the most singular part of the festival was
reserved for the dark night. Nearly a ton weight of sweetmeats had been
prepared, at an enormous expense, not for the gratification of the
palate, but for a purpose purely Gypsy. These sweetmeats of all kinds,
and of all forms, but principally yemas, or yolks of eggs prepared with a
crust of sugar (a delicious bonne-bouche), were strewn on the floor of a
large room, at least to the depth of three inches. Into this room, at a
given signal, tripped the bride and bridegroom, dancing romalis, followed
amain by all the Gitanos and Gitanas, dancing romalis. To convey a
slight idea of the scene is almost beyond the power of words. In a few
minutes the sweetmeats were reduced to a powder, or rather to a mud, the
dancers were soiled to the knees with sugar, fruits, and yolks of eggs.
Still more terrific became the lunatic merriment. The men sprang high
into the air, neighed, brayed, and crowed; whilst the Gitanas snapped
their fingers in their own fashion, louder than castanets, distorting
their forms into all kinds of obscene attitudes, and uttering words to
repeat which were an abomination.
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