Chapter XI (4)

The following was one of the addresses to the young Dauphin: “Monseigneur, votre naissance fait notre joie, votre éducation fera nos espérances, et vos vertus feront notre bonheur.”

* * * * *

The little Prince Santa Croce, about five or six years of age, had got little Prince Giustiniani down, and kicked him most unmercifully. The latter took refuge in a corner, but the other ordered him to come out, that he might kick him again: “If you do not,” he added, “I’ll give you a _coltellata_” (a stab).

* * * * *

As some officers of the Guards were showing off their troops to General Elliot, with their fine feathers, pink stocks, &c. &c., he said they only wanted one thing, which he had seen in Italy, and thought would be a great improvement to them. Upon being asked what this was, replied, “An umbrella;” which the Pope’s soldiers always carried.

* * * * *

Cardinal de Bernis said that Count Alfieri was very prodigal of reflections, but very covetous of words.

* * * * *

The Chevalier du Theil remarked to us, in speaking of a Minister who was giving fêtes on some public occasion, “On s’ennuie à les préparer, on se ruine à les faire, on est critiqué quand on les a faites.”

* * * * *

The expense of Monseigneur de Bernis’ bishopric, including expedition of bulls, presents, &c., amounted to about 480 Roman crowns. The Pope would not take the price of the bulls, as he was entitled to do.

* * * * *

The King of Prussia called the Emperor Joseph II. the Quixote of the North.

* * * * *

The Marquis Castiglioni, as he was going to Naples, scolded his wife because the cook’s carriage had broken down, which, he said, was owing to her not having gone to mass in the morning before they set out. He afterwards said it was the fault of the “femme de chambre,” whom he abused dreadfully, but a few hours after desired the Marchioness to give her two sequins.

* * * * *

A Jew of Pisa being very ill, ordered two Jew attendants to call in a curate to baptise him, for that his conscience would not allow him to die in peace without he became a Christian. He said he heard them in the next room agree that they had better kill him than let him change his religion. Upon that he desired so earnestly to be baptised, that an angel, dressed in white, came down and christened him; and from that moment he grew better. On his recovery he informed the Archbishop of Pisa of the miracle, and the Archbishop wrote to Rome to know if the man ought to be christened a second time. A Congregation was accordingly appointed, at the head of which was the Vicegerent, Monseigneur Contesini, and the Bishop of Carpentras went to Cardinal de Bernis, to inquire if he thought that baptism by an angel was canonical. The Cardinal replied, as gravely as he could, that perhaps it would be better to rechristen the Jew, _conditionally_; and that as he had never heard of any one being baptised by an angel, he could not say whether it was canonical. He then asked them if they were certain that the angel had really appeared; and they answered that there could be no doubt about it, for the man had told it himself.

* * * * *

The Duke de Chartres built some houses round the gardens of the Palais Royal, with shops under them, in order to get money by letting them. He was talking to the King of the beauty of one of his gardens, describing the summer-houses, canals, &c.: “Y a-t-il des boutiques aussi?” asked his Majesty. The people were so enraged at seeing the trees cut down and the beauty of the gardens spoiled to build these houses, that they hissed the Duke as he passed, and to escape the populace he ran through a coffee-house and got away. Some one remarking his blue ribbon, called out, “Est-ce la première fois qu’on a vu fuir le _Saint-Esprit_?” that being the name of the ship he commanded in the engagement with Admiral Keppel. A caricature was printed of a man picking up rags in the dirt, and beneath it was written, “M. le Duc de Chartres, qui cherche des loques à terre” (locataires). One day, while talking to a lady, he described a friend of hers by various ill-natured signs, to which she replied, “Je vois bien, Monseigneur, que vous vous entendez mieux aux signalements qu’aux signaux.”

* * * * *

The Duchess de Chabot told me nothing struck her more disagreeably than to see, at the end of a sentence of death, the King’s signature following the words, “Tel est notre bon plaisir.”

* * * * *

Pope Lambertini having heard that Ghezzi, the painter, had drawn caricatures of him and of all the Sacred College, insisted on seeing his book. The painter, in great terror, was obliged to comply; but the Pope was so much pleased with his talent that he gave him an employment of twelve crowns a month, and kept the book. Whenever a Cardinal came to see him he would show him his portrait, and if it caused any displeasure, he would say: “Do not be angry—here is my likeness also.” The same Pope was told that a person had taken the liberty to publish a book of his “bons mots,” and was urged to punish the fellow. He replied that he would certainly do so, and would inflict a very severe punishment, for, said he, “I will have a new edition printed with great additions, and then nobody will buy the book he has been at the expense of publishing.”

* * * * *

Princess Dashkoff being at Cardinal de Bernis’ in carnival time, boasted that she would not fear to face forty cannons, and yet started when the petards were fired to give the signal for the race. She was asked if she felt cold, and she answered that her imagination was colder than her person. The Grand-Duke Paul of Russia told the young Prince Dashkoff that he had already given him half of his friendship on his mother’s account, and would give him the other half when he knew him better. He agreed with the Princess to forget past times, and to think only of the present. When he was in St. Peter’s, he said that such a church gave a higher idea of the Divinity than any other temple he had ever entered. He thought the columns were not perfectly proper for the support of so noble an edifice, but he was too much struck with the general effect of the building to examine its details. The city of Rome, he remarked, offered the most august, and, at the same time, the most humiliating spectacle in the world, as it showed to what a height men could attain, and also how low they could descend.

* * * * *

Mr. Bagnall remarked, that, on meeting the Senator on the first day of carnival in his state coach surrounded by his guards, and with pieces of silk carried before him, it seemed to him as if the Romans wished to perpetuate the memory of their disgrace, and show how far they had sunk from their former position. If Cato could return on earth, what, he asked, would be his idea on encountering Prince Rezzonico as the representative of the Roman Senate, and Princess Santa Croce as the representative of the Roman matrons—particularly at Carnival time?

* * * * *

Countess Kaunitz, at Vienna, cheated intolerably at cards. As she was walking one day with Lord Finlater, a beggar asked alms of her, and she desired his Lordship to give the man a sequin. Lord F. demurred to such a large sum, but the lady insisted on his showing his generosity. “Ah! je vois, madame,” said he, “que c’est un cousin de Pam.”

* * * * *

When the Prince of Hepenstein was at Paris, he was one day at Madame de Barri’s toilette, surrounded with courtiers. She was saying how much she wished to have a little tiger, and every one was recommending how it should be fed. Some said with biscuits, others with macaroons, till the Prince, tired of all this nonsense, suggested: “Give him, madam, a courtier a day.”

* * * * *

Princess Dashkoff said she thought the Polish nation the most servile in the world till she saw the Italians.

* * * * *

Cardinal Zelada said that, when he was in the Conclave, another Cardinal sent him an artichoke, which he presented to another Cardinal, who passed it on to a third, until it came back to Cardinal Zelada. After this had happened six times the latter terminated its travels by throwing it out of the window, but not before it had cost him twenty-five crowns. For it is customary when a Cardinal makes a present to a “confrère,” to give at least two sequins to the secretary of the donor, or to some other member of his household.

* * * * *

Of the innumerable friars secularised by the Emperor Joseph II., only two hundred have proved fit to be employed as parish priests. The nuns of the convents destroyed by his Majesty had permission to enter other convents if they voluntarily chose to continue a monastic life. Scarcely any of the German nuns have confined themselves a second time, and only one in Lombardy, who has come to Rome for that purpose. The Pope has allowed her a few days to see the city.

* * * * *

The King of Spain has been very anxious of late for the canonisation of a lady who died about a hundred and fifty years ago. Two miracles are necessary for this purpose, and only one could be proved to have been performed during her lifetime. It was therefore proposed to supply the other by the fact of her body having remained uncorrupted for such a length of time. Accordingly the tomb was opened, in order to ascertain whether the body had been preserved naturally or by being embalmed. Unfortunately, it crumbled into dust as soon as it was exposed to the air, which was held to be decisive against her sanctity. The King, however, was so determined to have his way, that he caused a second congregation to be convened, but the result has been as unfavourable to his wishes as before.

* * * * *

It is said of the Duke de Chartres (afterwards Duke of Orleans, commonly known as Philippe Egalité), that he was “paresseux sur mer, poltron sur terre, polisson partout.”

* * * * *

Two instances of the cruelty practised in convents came under the Countess de Château Dauphin’s personal knowledge. One was of a friar belonging to one of the mendicant orders at Turin, who was chained under the cellar-stairs for ten years, fed upon bread and water, and kept in a most shocking state. The other was of a friar who was confined for twenty-five years in a room of a convent near her country house, where he was deprived of the sight of a single human being—his food being passed to him through a hole. Through the Count’s influence he was at length set at liberty, and permitted to walk about the convent.

* * * * *

The Emperor Joseph II. is called every morning before six, and rises immediately, though he may have been sound asleep just before. While dressing he reads papers, and by seven he receives the Council of State; after which the Archduke Maximilian, if in Vienna, makes him a visit of a few minutes, and they go together to church. The Emperor then proceeds to his Chancellerie, where he dictates to several secretaries, keeping them fully employed until twelve or one, when he holds a levee. About half-past one, or two, he drives a calèche and pair to one of the gates of the town, where a horse is awaiting him. He mounts and rides round to see fortifications, buildings, gardens, &c., and, after using violent exercise, returns home about half-past four, when the signal for the Guards to salute him is also the signal to serve up the dinner. While this is being done, which usually occupies seven minutes, the Emperor dresses himself—he is always in uniform—and he remains less than half an hour at table. He eats of the simplest dishes, and of not more than two or three, talking all the time to architects, directors of his gardens, &c. After dinner he walks about the room for a short time, when he returns to the Chancellerie, and works assiduously till ten or eleven. He then visits at one of about a dozen houses, to which he goes by turns, almost all of them belonging to widows of general officers, and the greater part Protestants. They are all elderly women, with the exception of two—the Princess of Lichtenstein, wife of the General who is his personal friend; and another lady, whose husband likewise is particularly intimate with his Majesty, and works nearly as hard. About midnight the Emperor returns to the palace, and as he passes through his apartments sits down to the harpsichord for a quarter of an hour, his valet de chambre accompanying him on the violin. He both plays and sings, and the music is changed every night. He then goes to bed. Such is his usual life at Vienna, but when he is with his troops he surpasses them all in activity. Rain, tempests, long and fatiguing marches, are alike disregarded.

* * * * *

M. de Chevert, who died a lieutenant-general of the French army, being about to take a fortress by assault, gave the following instructions to a soldier: “Tu monteras l’échelle; la sentinelle te criera ‘Qui est là?’ tu ne répondras rien; il te criera une autre fois; tu ne diras rien; il te tirera, il te manquera; tu le tueras et moi je serai derrière toi.” The soldier took his commander’s word, did as he was bid, and everything happened precisely as M. de Chevert had stated.

* * * * *

A son of Count Sambuca, Prime Minister of the King of Naples, not long since had a person assassinated. His father sent him off to Sicily, and it is probable that no further notice will be taken of the murder. Another son of the same Minister, as he was going to a conversazione at Rome, observed that Cardinal Visconti’s carriage was in front of him, and immediately ordered his coachman to drive past it. The man excused himself by saying that it was not customary to pass a Cardinal; but Signor Sambuca insisted, and gained his point. Cardinal Visconti, when he alighted, unaware of the real state of the case, and being, besides, a very civil man, told the other that he was exceedingly sorry for the dispute between their coachmen, but that it was impossible to answer for the behaviour of those people. “You are mistaken, Sir,” replied the Neapolitan, “I ordered my man to pass you; ‘voi altri Cardinali ci volete soverchiare in tutto.’”[129] However, he was soon afterwards recalled to Naples by his father.

* * * * *

It was mentioned lately at a conversazione of the second class that some one had been murdered by a servant. An Abbé, who was one of the guests, being accompanied by his servant on his way home, was asked by the man if he knew whose servant it was, and he replied in the negative. “Why, it was I, Sir,” said the fellow—“I killed the man myself.” The poor Abbé was so much frightened at the intelligence that he ordered him to take himself off, with his livery and lantern.

* * * * *

In Italy, they call people who hurt their health by painting, tight-lacing, &c., “martiri del diavolo.”

* * * * *

Prince Borghese gave a ball about a fortnight after his sister’s death; whereupon it was written over his door next morning: “Dignum sororis funus.” His mother has been dead about a month, and he is not yet in mourning. Next month he proposes to give dances at his villa twice a week.

* * * * *

Lord Lucan said that the Ambassador from Malta spoke amazingly good French for an African.

* * * * *

Cardinal Hertzan, Minister of the Empire, having taken a palace through the interest of the Empress Queen (Maria Theresa), wanted to turn out the keeper of a coffee-house who lived in the palace. The man went to consult a Friar Felice to know how he could manage to resist the Cardinal. The friar told him that he saw no human means whereby he could avoid his loss, but that God Almighty would perhaps prevent it. The Cardinal being afterwards in danger of losing great part of his income through the death of the Empress Queen, Friar Felice passed for a saint.

* * * * *

Prince Doria gave to the (newly-made) Cardinal Altimari a fine carriage, with a pair of beautiful horses. Prince Borghese sent his tailor and his merchant to the same Cardinal, desiring him to order as many suits for himself, and as many liveries for his servants, as he thought proper. A woman of the second order, the widow of an “expéditionnaire,” likewise presented him with one thousand crowns in papetti, to give away as “mancia” (“pour boire”—drinking-money), and defrayed all his briefs, &c., for his new bishopric.

* * * * *

The Romans called Signora Giulia Falconieri, “Papa Giulia.” The Pope’s nephews being at the Opera with that lady, it was said, “Tutti li Santissimi erano ad Aliberti.”

* * * * *

At La Valle, a guardian was introduced on the stage, who advised his ward to keep good company, and to receive the nobility at her house, but to have nothing to do with painters. Monsignor Ferretti, cavaliere servente to the Baroness G., told her of this, and advised her to take the hint with regard to a painter who is continually at her house. Upon this a friend of hers went to the Governor and complained that the comedians of La Valle had insulted Madame G.

* * * * *

Signor Pisani, a Venetian, having had great flirtations with a woman of the second order at Rome, was told that he would not dare to continue them when her cavaliere servente was present. He therefore went and sat down upon the lady’s knees, and the cavaliere servente gave him three boxes on the ear, which he took very quietly—merely remarking that he was unfortunate in not having his pistols in his pocket. He afterwards complained of the affront to the Venetian Ambassador, but a Roman lady said to him that she wondered how he dared to enter the company of ladies after an affair of that kind. The Viscount de la Rochefoucault remarked that in Rome a man who gives a blow is generally considered “un brutal,” and that he who receives it is pitied. The cavaliere servente was said to be the gentleman of I forget what Prince; while Signor Pisani belonged to the illustrious family which gave so many heroes to the republic of Venice.

* * * * *

An Italian Countess was about to be interred one day, when an order arrived from the Secretary of State for the body to be opened, on suspicion of her death having been caused by poison. On examination it was found to be so, and it was supposed that she was poisoned by a servant who was bribed by her relations; for the deceased had been a great devotee, and it was feared that, if she made a will, she would leave all her money to the Church.

* * * * *

The Elector-Palatine, after talking some time to the Princess Santa Croce, went to pay his compliments to some other lady. Whereupon Signora Mobilia Falconieri, the mother of the Princess, flew into a violent passion, and told her daughter she wondered how she could submit to such an affront. When _she_ was young, she would never have permitted a gentleman to leave her to speak to any one else.

* * * * *

The following story was circulated in Rome, but it was denied by Prince Chigi. While the Prince was hunting on one of his estates, about twenty miles from Rome, a wild boar made great ravages on the lands of a poor man, his vassal. The latter complained several times, but always in vain, and at last one day shot the boar himself. The Prince’s gamekeeper, who saw him do this, raised his gun, fired, and killed the poor fellow on the spot. His widow presented a memorial to the Prince, begging redress of her wrongs, but he sent it back to her, with this answer, “Ci rimedia in cinghiale” (Give me redress in the matter of the wild boar). She then came to Rome and appealed to the Pope, who ordered the gamekeeper to be imprisoned, and the Prince to pay the woman fifteen crowns a month as long as she lived.

* * * * *

When the Constable de Bourbon’s troops sacked Rome, they carried away with them a large quantity of papers, among which were several notes showing where people had buried their money and plate. Many of the French afterwards returned, and by means of this information found much hidden property. This circumstance may have given rise to the common belief of the Italians that the French are magicians.

* * * * *

At one time devout plays representing Paradise, Purgatory, and Hell, were acted in the theatre of Chaumont, a small town in Champagne. But by an unfortunate accident Paradise fell into Purgatory, and Purgatory into Hell, since which no more representations have been given, and the affair is known as “La Diablerie de Chaumont.”

* * * * *

A Polish Prince having said something impertinent to a lady at Rome, she answered: “Allez-vous-en; vous êtes un bel enfant.” “Madame,” he replied, “vous n’êtes ni l’un ni l’autre.” This happened some years ago.

* * * * *

Pope Rezzonico wanted to establish a feast in a little village, on the canonisation of St. Barbarigo, a relative of his family. As the villagers did not choose to go to the expense of a new picture, they stuck a portrait of the new saint with wax over a painting of St. Charles Borromée. But the candles being lighted and the church growing warm, the wax melted in the middle of the service, and the temporary saint tumbled down, leaving St. Charles triumphant. On which some of the people exclaimed, “A miracle!” and declared that the Pope had wanted to impose a saint upon them, but the miracle proved that he was not a true saint.

* * * * *

When Cardinal Cornaro was Governor, a message was brought to him while attending the Pope at a function, stating that, in a quarrel between his coachman and another, Prince Borghese had cut to pieces the harness belonging to the latter. The Pope asked what was the matter, and Monseigneur Cornaro being taken by surprise, told the whole affair, and was ordered by his Holiness to confine the Prince to his own house. This was done; but the accusation was soon proved to be entirely false, and to have been got up to injure the Governor with the Prince, who only a few days before had sent him a pair of horses as a present. No apology was made to the Prince; only Cardinal Giraud was sent to him to say that Sovereigns might sometimes make mistakes, but their mistakes were not to be called in question.

* * * * *

The Abbess of the monastery of San Cesimato told us, after making many apologies for fear of scandalising Père Jacquier, who was with us, that she had dreamt that morning that the three years for her being abbess had terminated, and that all the nuns came to desire her to continue in that office. Upon which she was in such a passion that she wished them all at the devil, and so loud that the whole dormitory heard her. She was very lively, and said that she took the veil at the age of fifteen, when she was so thin that everybody thought her in a consumption. She is now upwards of sixty, and blessed with quite sufficient “en bon point.”

* * * * *

The coachman of Monseigneur Gregori, who was about to be made a Cardinal, wounded his wife in a quarrel, and the poor woman was carried to an hospital. He insisted upon going in to see her—a thing never permitted in the part of the building allotted to women. Having a knife in his hand he tried to get in by force, but one of the people of the house picked up a big stone and frightened him away, at the same time calling to the sbirri to take him up. They were afraid, however, to do so when they heard that he was Monseigneur Gregori’s coachman, until the directors of the hospital told them that they would be answerable. They then carried him off to the prison at the Governo. Monseigneur Gregori sent immediately to the Governor, to say that he was going out and wanted his coachman, but the Governor returned for answer that he, too, wanted him.

Count Scutellari being with the Pope, his Holiness, to give more weight to an assertion, said, “Da galantuomo è vero.” The Count assured his Holiness that he need not have used so strong an expression, as he was obliged to believe him on half a word.

* * * * *

When the Governor (Spinelli) was very ill, a physician was sent for from Naples, who had been recommended as the head of the profession in that city. He said he wanted a man who was not afraid to deal with the Roman doctors. When he came they began, as usual, to give him an account of all the bleedings, &c., with which they had treated their patient. The Neapolitan, without waiting to hear the end of their story, ran up, caught Monseigneur Spinelli by the hand, and exclaimed, “Séi vive ancora!” The physicians, disconcerted at the expression, left the case in his hands, and the Governor has himself told us that he believes he owes his life entirely to this man. The Princess of Palestrine went to see him one day when he was at the worst, and as she was going out his people asked her what she thought of his state: “Why,” said she, “he appears to me beyond all hope of recovery; but he is Spinelli, and till you give him the last blow on the nose, like the cats he will escape.”

* * * * *

The learned and excellent Abbate Cunich was a native of Ragusa, and entered at an early age into the order of Jesuits; after the extinction of which he was Professor of the Greek language at the Roman College for a long series of years. His translation of Homer’s Iliad into Latin verse is esteemed as one of the most faithful, and, at the same time, one of the finest, versions as to style and purity of language which it is possible to imagine. He also translated many beautiful Greek epigrams from the Anthologia with equal success, and composed several himself, remarkable for their elegance, and chiefly encomiastic. The purity of mind, sanctity of manners, and innocent cheerfulness which were conspicuous in the character of Cunich, rendered him universally beloved and respected. He had warm feelings, and naturally great quickness of temper; but the deep sense of religion which influenced his life and behaviour gave him great power of self-government, which was further strengthened by his unaffected humility and singular moderation. At the advanced period of life when I knew him, his form and features were still beautiful, and his imagination as active and poetical as it could have been at twenty-five. He died, as far as I recollect, in 1796, of a long and painful illness, which he had concealed and borne with the greatest patience and resignation, not being confined to his room till within a very short time of his death. His affections, being by his profession confined to friendships, were, in their warmth and sincerity, more like those of ancient than of modern times; and he was so disinterested that, although he counted amongst his friends many persons of high rank and considerable influence, he never solicited, or even wished, for riches or distinctions. He associated only with worthy characters, and, not having the desire of celebrity, rather withdrew from the world than encouraged the advances of new acquaintances who admired his talents. But this retirement from the world in general was not owing to any dislike of it. He was singularly candid, charitable in his opinion of others, and really, I believe, imagined that others possessed the same virtues, or, perhaps, greater than those which his serenity of mind must have made him conscious of possessing.

* * * * *

The Abbé Boscovich was also a native of Ragusa, a small republic in Dalmatia, on the shores of the Adriatic, celebrated for the industry of its inhabitants, and for the singularity of its political situation. I never yet knew a Ragusan who did not possess genius and learning. Boscovich was a great mathematician, and a man of probity. He had a remarkable talent for making extempore Latin verses. His epigram on the planets is deservedly admired, as it scatters flowers on a subject which did not appear susceptible of them. “As in the order of succession in their orbits round the Sun, our Earth,” says he, “is between Mars and Venus, no wonder that love and war govern the world.”

At the extinction of the order of Jesuits, Boscovich took refuge in France, and was much beloved there. A place was created on purpose for him, the “Inspection of the Optics for the Marine.” He was intimate with many of the first families of France, but no sycophant. At an advanced age he took the resolution of paying a visit to his own country to see his mother, who was still alive and in the enjoyment of her faculties. His voluminous works he printed at Bassano, in the Venetian States. He became childish at last, but fortunately died before the French Revolution, which would have deprived him of many comforts.

* * * * *

[Among the last of the memoranda collected by Miss Knight is one bearing the initial letters C. S., which purports to describe the characteristic features of the last three reigns:]

“The reign of George the Third was that of public and private virtue. The reign of George the Fourth was that of national fame and glory. The reign of William the Fourth was that of domestic kindness and happiness. We humbly advise our young Queen to take the first for her model, in which we trust that she will be rewarded by the two others.”

On this hint Miss Knight composed the following verses, dated July, 1837, and therefore within six months of her death:

Of George the Third the long and arduous sway,
The reign of worth and virtue we may name.
With George the Fourth we see our isle display
The brilliant scenes of victory and fame.
Affection’s kind, domestic joys we view
In our late William’s short, benignant reign.
O may our Queen her Grandsire’s steps pursue,
And love and glory as reward obtain!
Possessing in all British hearts the place
Her noble ancestors so justly won;
And may the honours of the Brunswick race
Resplendent shine coeval with the sun!

* * * * *

On the back of a card, on which Queen Charlotte had copied a short sacred poem, Miss Knight has written:—“_Copied by the Queen, and given by her to E. C. K., December 10, 1805. God Almighty grant, through the mediation of our Lord Jesus Christ, that my sins may be forgiven, and that His will may be the dearest wish of my heart, with gratitude (however imperfect) for the blessings He has deigned to bestow on me!_”

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APPENDIX.

EXCLUSION OF THE PRINCESS OF WALES PROM THE QUEEN’S DRAWING
ROOM—DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.

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