Charles Lever, Once a Week (1862)
“ Gariglano did not, as we entered it, give much promise of those convivialities the priest had depicted. It was a regular tumble-down Italian village, with streets so narrow as barely to admit our little calessina, and a pavement so uneven that we could only creep along step by step. All, too, was in darkness; no lamps without, not even the solitary flicker of a candle within a window, under an archway, or an open door as we passed. Some indistinct traces of men asleep—confused, misshapen groups they were, but except these, not a sign of life or humanity to be seen. ”
