I did not observe any other peculiarities of style. Certainly what I once read of an acoustic arrangement to multiply the sound is a mere fable, and so is the assertion that they sing everything by sheer tradition, and without direction, taking the time from one another, for beyond doubt, I saw the shadow of Baini’s long arm moving up and down, and every now and then he struck very audibly on the woodwork of his stall.
There is, indeed, a good deal of uncertainty on various points, spread about by the singers themselves as well as by other people. They never say beforehand what Miserere will be sung; it is decided at the very moment, etc. Besides this, the way in which they sing it depends on the condition of the voices. The first day it was B minor, the second and third E minor, but on each occasion they ended up nearly in B flat minor. The leading soprano, Mariano, had come expressly from the mountains to Rome to join the choir, and to him I owe my hearing the “embellimenti” with their high notes.
But however much they brace themselves up for the great effort, the neglect and the bad habits of the rest of the year still take their revenge, and appalling discords sometimes break out. I must tell you, also, how on the Thursday I climbed upon a ladder that was leaning against the wall just as the Miserere commenced, and so, getting up close to the roof, had the music and the priests and all the auditory far beneath me in the darkness. Sitting up there alone, with none of those wearisome strangers round one,
