There is a dynamic force in the sympathy of a crowd. I had the sensation
of being carried along with the moving masses, without the exercise of
my own will, I hardly know how one could have turned back. And on we
went, the light of the short winter day meanwhile fading quickly into
the gloom of night. Once beyond the gaslighted streets, the sense of
darkness in the midst of the surging multitude was oppressive and
unnatural. We were borne on towards the principal gate of the cemetery,
and here the effect was most striking. We left the outer darkness, and
stepped into an area of light; beyond the belt of cypress and of yew
there was so brilliant an illumination that it threw its glowing
reflection on the clouds that hung pall-like over the whole city.
In all that crowded cemetery--and it is crowded--there was not a single
grave without its lights. The most ordinary had rows of candles marking
the simple form of the gravestone; but there were costlier tombs, with
an array of lamps in banks of flowers beautifully arranged; and in the
mausoleum of Batthyanyi the illuminations were effected by gas in the
form of architectural lines of light. At this point the crowd was
greatest. To visit the tomb of the martyred statesman is deemed a
patriotic duty. The particulars relating to the disposal of Count
Batthyanyi's body after his judicial murder in 1849 are not very
generally known; the facts are as follows.
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