Rome—1782.
On the morning of the 6th of January, Monseigneur de Bernis went to St. Peter’s, where he stood amongst the other Bishops till the Pope called him to the foot of the throne. This ceremony is styled making the “Vescovi assistenti al Soglio,” who are always seated on the steps of the Pope’s throne, and assist him on public occasions. This honour entitles Monseigneur to the privilege of making three Prothonotaries and eight Knights of the Golden Spurs. He intends to give one of these golden spurs to Belcour, his valet-de-chambre, and the others to some of the Cardinal’s people. Cournau, his Eminence’s maître d’hôtel, already possesses this distinction. Monseigneur de Bernis is likewise entitled, in virtue of this dignity, to send every morning to the palace for his bread and his wine, which he gives to his valet-de-chambre. The bulls for this ceremony cost him 150 crowns.
The Grand-Duke Paul and his Duchess arrived at Rome under the names of Count and Countess of the North, and with them one of her brothers, a Prince of Würtemberg. Madame de Beckersdorff and two maids of honour were also with them, and the first seemed to be her intimate friend, and a very pleasing person. The Grand-Duke, though not tall, had a good figure, but his face was Calmuck. His manners were good, and he talked agreeably to those who were introduced to him. The Grand-Duchess was, like most of her family, very handsome. She was tall, her figure majestic, and her features and complexion very fine. Her manners were dignified and gracious. We were introduced to them at a concert given by the Cardinal de Bernis for the birth of the Dauphin. Princess D.,[[114]] who had been staying some time at Rome with her son and married daughter, came to the fête dressed in black. She was considered by the Grand-Duke and Duchess as a spy on their proceedings; and, at all events, the part which she was supposed to have taken in the imprisonment and death of the Grand-Duke’s father must have rendered the sight of her very painful to them. Unmindful of this, she seated herself at the concert as near as possible to the Grand-Duke, just behind him to the right. He was greatly annoyed, and, turning towards her, said: “Madame, on ne vient pas habillé en noir à la fête d’un souverain.” Princess D. gave as an excuse the assurance that, as she was about to leave Rome, all her other dresses were packed up. The Grand-Duke replied: “On peut toujours rester à la maison.”
The Princess was a short, fat, middle-aged woman, with a very red face and harsh countenance; and the broad red riband and star, which she wore in the way such decorations are worn by men, added to her formidable appearance. It is said she was only eighteen years of age when the death of the Emperor Peter took place, and that, seated at a table with two pistols before her, she waited for the news with the intention, if it proved contrary to her wishes, of killing the messenger with one and herself with the other.[[115]] Pistols, we were told, she always carried about with her; and, notwithstanding the services she had rendered to the Empress Catherine, and the strange masculine honours conferred upon her in return—such as this decoration, and her being made President of the Academy of Sciences—it is evident that her absence was more agreeable to her Imperial mistress than her presence would be, for she was many years in England, Scotland, and Italy. She would not allow her daughter to live with her husband, and she used to lock up her son, who must have been turned of twenty, every night. How unlike to her amiable and excellent brother. It is said that she had a sister who was gentleness itself. One would wish to think that Princess Dashkoff was in some measure misrepresented. I recollect saying something to her son, with whom I was a little acquainted, about the maids of honour attending on the Grand-Duchess, and I naturally expressed myself in the terms, “the ladies of the Grand-Duchess.” The young man, who just before had been talking to me with the civility usually shown to a young woman, suddenly reddened, and looked quite savage. “Madame,” said he, “the Grand-Duchess has no ladies; she has no right to have any. They are the ladies of our august sovereign, who allows them to attend upon the Grand-Duchess in her travels.” Does not this put one in mind of a remark made by Bonaparte: “Pour peu qu’on y gratte on trouve le Tartare?”
We paid our respects to the Grand-Duke and Duchess, as did all the company at Rome, at their own apartments. They seemed much pleased with all they saw, and with the society. After Princess D. left, they were perfectly at their ease. There was at that time no Russian Ambassador, or Minister, at Rome. I afterwards heard that they were not so comfortable at Naples.
A tailor at Rome made a coat for the Grand-Duke. When he brought it home the sleeves were found to be too long. “I suppose,” said the Prince, “you have heard that kings have long arms; but mine as yet are only rags.” He and the Grand-Duchess appeared to be very domestic, and liked to talk of their children. I remember the Grand-Duchess showing us portraits of some of them en silhouette. Her dress was very magnificent at Cardinal de Bernis’ fête. It was white, trimmed with the most valuable sables, over which hung large pearls in garlands, fastened with diamond knots of great size and splendour.
On the 1st of March we went to Cardinal de Bernis’. On account of the fêtes given by him in honour of the birth of the Dauphin, torches and guards were placed at the corners of all the streets leading to his house. The front and both sides of his palace were illuminated with four immense wax-lights in each window, which made a most brilliant appearance. All the carriages went in by the back way, none being permitted to pass in front of the palace, as opposite to it and before the church of St. Marcel an elegant amphitheatre had been erected for music, for the amusement of the populace; the decorations were very pleasing, and had a delightful effect from the windows. The rooms were all decorated in a festal manner, with a great deal of gilding and many looking-glasses; the gallery with trophies on a gold ground, and the ceiling with fleurs-de-lys and dolphins. At the end of the gallery, within the columns, was an amphitheatre for the musicians, who were all in uniform. An infinite number of lights, perfectly well arranged, were scattered about, and two rows of seats were placed round both rooms for the company. As we were going up-stairs we met the cardinal, attended by his gentlemen, servants, &c., with eight torches and eight candles, going to receive the Grand-Duke and Duchess, for whom chairs had been placed across the gallery between the columns. The Princess of Palestrine, who did the honours of the Cardinal’s house, seated herself beside them for a short time, but after a while gave her place to the Pope’s niece. The Cardinal stood behind the Grand-Duchess, as also did Monseigneur de Bernis. The Prince of Würtemberg would not sit down, but stood beside the Cardinal. The lady who accompanies the Grand-Duchess, with the two maids of honour, were placed near, but there was an immense crowd. Immediately afterwards began the cantata, which lasted an hour. The poetry of it—in honour of the Dauphin—was composed by a secretary of the Pope’s nephew, and the music by a Maestro di Capella of the Pope. The Grand-Duke and Duchess were very attentive, and after refreshments had been offered to them, which they declined, they went and sat down in the next room, whither most of the company followed them. Soon after we were seated the Cardinal brought the Grand-Duke up to us, and presented us in the most affectionate manner. He then presented the Duchess Bobadilla and another lady who sat beside us, but the Grand-Duke immediately returned to us and entered into conversation, until he was called off by two letters being brought to him by express. He talked to us in the most polite and attentive manner, and expressed a desire for us to visit Russia. Upon our mentioning that we were acquainted with Admiral Knowles, he inquired with great affection after Miss Knowles and Sir Charles, and said he had much regretted the Admiral’s departure. When we told him that the son was a captain in the navy, he remarked that the post of captain in the English navy was a most respectable rank, with many other things that showed equally his sense and good-breeding. He speaks French perfectly well. They went away soon afterwards, when we returned into the gallery and heard some very good music, and did not get home till past twelve. On the following night there was, if possible, more company than on the previous one, and everything still more in gala. The Grand-Duke and Duchess came early, and were placed as before, only they made the Princess of Palestrine sit between them, and, when she went into the next room, the Cardinal de Bernis. They were exceedingly pleased, and made themselves very agreeable. The cantata was written by the same author as the other, but the music was by Cimarosa, and infinitely finer. They stayed to hear two other pieces of music, and then passed into the other room, where they remained till near ten. The Grand-Duchess was elegantly dressed, and looked exceedingly well: the Grand-Duke wore a plain coat with superb diamond buttons. I sat by the lady who accompanies the Duchess, and found her very agreeable: she is a German. The music lasted till after eleven, and was very fine. The palace and the street in front of it, with the orchestra opposite, were as light as day. The Academy of France was also lighted up, and had an orchestra in the same manner. On the Sunday before, all the money sent by the King of France to pay for this fête was given away by the Cardinal in doweries—fifty crowns each to one hundred and fifty brides in Rome, and twenty-five crowns each to two hundred at Albano. The Bishop of Apollonia administered the Sacrament, and handed the orders to them to receive the money at once, instead of waiting till they were married, as is usually the case. At a little after six on the next day we went to pay our respects to the Grand-Duke and Duchess, and found there the Princess Doria, the Princess Santa Croce, and another lady, with the German lady, the friend of the Duchess. The Cardinal de Bernis and several other gentlemen were also there. We went immediately into the next room, where the Grand-Duchess received us at the door, the Grand-Duke standing behind her. She told my mother that she had saluted her the night before, and had curtseyed twice, adding, very politely, that as her husband had made our acquaintance, she also much wished to do so. She then had chairs placed round, and desired us all to be seated. She chatted much about Rome, and told Cardinal de Bernis that she would never leave it were it not for her children. The Grand-Duke came and talked to us for some time with the greatest good-humour and affability. The Duchess was very desirous that the gentlemen likewise should sit down, and told a gentleman who accompanies them, and whom she calls “Mon Général,” to set them the example. When we took our leave, she assured my mother that she should be always very happy to see us; that her husband was so pleased with making our acquaintance, that she was likewise very anxious for it, &c. &c. In short, nothing could be more flattering and attentive than their reception of us. They appear very much attached to one another.[[116]] The Duchess’s figure is certainly very fine, and improves upon one, while the Grand-Duke is so genteel and pleasing in his manners, that his person seems to me at present far from disagreeable.
On the 14th we went to take leave of the Count and Countess of the North. They received us with the greatest goodness. The Count told me he regretted infinitely that we had not met oftener; that our visit then, though it made him happy, was rather a pain than a pleasure; that it was not their fault they had not seen us every day, but as there were so many things to see they usually returned home too late to receive company, and could not make an exception to a general rule, or they would have received us at any time; that he had inquired whether we were at the concert at Princess Doria’s, and would have come to us, but the devil of etiquette prevented him. He pressed exceedingly that we should go to St. Petersburg, saying his house and the whole city should be at our disposal. I then ventured to say that, if we were not so happy as to travel so far, my mother hoped that the Count and Countess of the North would permit us to take the liberty of requesting their interest with the Grand-Duke and Duchess for any of our English sea officers who, if there was a peace in our distracted country, might be ambitious of serving in Russia. He replied that they had some credit with those personages, and nothing would make him happier than to be of service to us, or to any of our friends; that my mother and I had only to write to him and mention how far they were in our esteem, and he would treat them accordingly, as he was sure my mother knew the Navy too well, and was too nice to recommend any who were not deserving. “Believe me,” he added, “upon my honour I wish nothing more than to be useful to you. I beg you will be assured of my sincerity, and I hope you will soon put it to the proof. But if it should be ten or twenty years’ hence, you may be equally sure of it, for I could not forget you even if I were inclined to do so; and I am certain that if I were not in the world, the Countess would do the same. I think power is never so agreeable as when it can make one useful to one’s friends, and, as such, I desire you will ever consider us.” He repeatedly urged us to go to St. Petersburg; and upon my remarking how difficult it was to travel in time of war, he said, war had nothing to do with our going there, because even if there was a war in Russia, it could not be one disagreeable to us. He added, that when he was master of himself there was nothing he would not do for us, but, as it was, he could be of some use to us in St. Petersburg. The Countess was also excessively kind to us, and pressed us strongly to go to Russia, and, indeed, said the most obliging and flattering things. She bade me draw everything at Rome as fast as possible, and meet them at St. Petersburg—with many more of the kindest expressions. She said it gave her great pain to go away just as she was beginning to make acquaintances, and that she should have wished to have cultivated a friendship with Cardinal de Bernis and with us; that she had but small hopes of meeting him again, but would always retain a regard for him. As for us, she said she would not give up the idea of again seeing us, and that she should quit us with tears in her eyes, adding the most affectionate expressions of kindness. The persons who accompany the Count and Countess are all perfectly well chosen. The maids of honour are both well behaved and good natured, and the General’s lady is very amiable.
The Pope mentioned one night at supper that the “barcarole” that brought him from Venice had since gained three hundred crowns, at half a baioccho from each person, by letting people kiss the place where he was seated, adding: “Quanto mi piace di vedere la fede di questi buoni Veneziani!” He also said that one of his gloves having fallen from his hand was instantly cut into a thousand pieces for relics.
The Pope having lately found an obelisk, has had it removed to Monte Cavallo, where it is to be placed between the two statues. The expense and trouble were no slight matter. The other day the following inscription was placed on it: “Fac ut lapides isti panes fiant.” Infinite pains were taken to discover the author and have him punished, and on the following morning was written beneath the other: “The author is St. Luke, chap. iv. 3.”
The Pope stayed two nights and a day at Cesena, and ordered his bed to be placed in the room in which he was born. His people were so little used to travelling, that they forgot the chocolate-cup, and, after much searching in the town where they happened to be, they told the Pope there was not one to be got fit for his use. “Well, then,” said he, “give me the chocolate in a pipkin.” When the Pope wanted to change his linen, the valise in which it was packed happened to be two hours behind on the road. The baggage-cart broke down, and, it seems, caused the oddest confusion ever beheld, mitres and chalices tumbling about amongst pots and pans. It resembled the furniture of a playhouse, and a gentleman remarked that the Pope was a good actor, and was now removing his theatre to Vienna. He is a strolling player, then, said another. Some one expressing a certain curiosity as to the sort of honours the Emperor would show the Pope at Vienna, a bystander replied: “He will probably dispense with Lent, and give his Holiness a masked ball.”
Princess Dashkoff being with other strangers in the gallery of the Senate-house at Venice, where it is not permitted to open the door after the sitting commences, insisted upon going out, exclaiming aloud, “Ces perruques m’ennuient.” She made so much noise that the senators sent up to desire her to be quiet, but she only repeated that “she would go out.” Upon this, one of the senators said: “Gentlemen, shall we have a ballot to see whether this mad woman shall go out or not?” It was then put to the vote and carried in the affirmative, and, the door being opened, the Princess went out by herself.
There is a negro woman at Rome much protected by the Queen of Portugal. She is dressed in red, and goes about with a Madonna in a box, asking alms for founding a monastery in Portugal for negro girls under the protection of the father and mother of St. Joachim. She went to the Pope to ask his permission, and mentioned the saints who were to be the patrons of her order. The Pope answered, that he had no doubt but what the father and mother of St. Joachim were good people, but they were not on his list.
A Cardinal’s cook in time of Lent having made up all his “maigre” dishes with the gravy and fat of meat, went to confession, and, among other sins, mentioned this one. The confessor, however, refused to give him absolution until he promised that he would no longer make his master violate Lent. Faithful to his promise, the cook changed his sauces, whereupon the Cardinal complained bitterly that his dinners were not so good as formerly, and the cook was called up, and obliged to tell his story. The Cardinal inquired the name of his confessor, and having sent for him, remonstrated with him for meddling with the private government of his family. The friar replied, that the cook’s salvation was in danger if he had continued to give his master gras instead of maigre. “Well,” exclaimed the Cardinal, “and do you think it reasonable that, to save the soul of such a low fellow as that, you should expose my Eminence to the discomfort of fasting!”[[117]]
During the time the affair of the Jesuits was in agitation, whenever Cardinal Marefoschi went to visit Cardinal de Bernis, a valet-de-chambre in the house of the latter, and who was also a spy, used to hang a white handkerchief out at the top of a chimney, to mark the commencement and termination of the visit, as a signal to the Jesuits at the Roman College, who looked out from the top of their church for it.
On Wednesday morning, February 27th (1782), the Pope set out for Vienna at half-past nine in the morning. The Grand-Duke and Duchess of Russia, who have been every day to St. Peter’s to see him, were there between six and seven waiting to take leave of his Holiness. They had some conversation with him, and the Grand-Duke attended him to his carriage. Monsignore Marcucci, Vicegerent and Patriarch of Constantinople, and Monsignore Contesini, Archbishop of Athens, both men of very low extraction, accompanied him, besides some inferior persons of his household. The streets were lined with people, far beyond Ponte Molle. Many Roman gentlemen rode on horseback before him for several miles. The Pope threw himself almost out of the carriage in order to bestow his benedictions upon the people, who kept crying aloud: “Santo Padre, la benedizione prima di partire;” and others, “Buon viaggio.” It is said that the Minister of Portugal, when he went with his lady and child to take leave of the Pope, left upon the table a schedule for sixty thousand crowns, by the Queen’s command. The Venetians are to send twelve senators, among whom, it is supposed, will be the Doge, with four hundred men, to meet him on the frontiers and accompany him through their States. The King of Sardinia intends to wait upon his Holiness in person. The Pope’s nephew, Don Lewis, attended him to the coach, and held his hand for half a minute after he was in. He was in the most violent distress, and shed tears for three or four hours. His wife was at the Villa Papa Giulia to take leave of his Holiness, and was likewise much affected. The Pope told her to take care of herself and go to her husband.
The Count and Countess of the North (Grand-Duke and Duchess of Russia), when they were at Naples, refused the Palace Giustiniani which the King had fitted up for their reception, but they dined at Court, and went to the balls and theatre. The King got up a hunt for them, to which they promised to go, but afterwards sent word to decline it. The King, however, went, and did not return to Caserta till the day before their departure. On their journey to Pæstum, the King had engaged them to stop at one of his country-houses, to which he himself went the day before so as to be ready to receive them. After he was gone, they sent him word that they could not stop there. The Queen called for them in her carriage to take them to a balcony to see a horse-race, that had been got up on purpose for them, and to which they had agreed to go—and, after all, they would not. Whenever her Majesty called for them, she had to wait half an hour at their door. When they went away, the people hissed them. They were very affable, however, and good natured with artists. They called on Mr. Jenkins, to choose statues for the Empress, went all over his house, and stayed near two hours. The Duchess bought a beautiful Faun, a Faustina, in the shape of Venus, and a Genius. They were also at the studio of Mr. Hewetson, where they saw a fine monument which he is going to send to Ireland. They were much pleased with a small statue of Cleopatra in marble, which they purchased, and the Duchess sat to him for her bust.
As they passed through Milan, the Archduke and Duchess made a “Festino” for them. As there was not nobility enough in the town, and as the lower sort of people had never been admitted to their entertainments, they made experiment of a “Festino,” and let the latter come, and they behaved themselves very becomingly. Amongst other masks were two nuns and two friars, who walked about and conducted themselves quietly and well. After they had stayed about two hours, to the great surprise of the company, an officer was sent to them to say, that if they had remained long enough for their own pleasure, their departure would be agreeable to the company. They immediately went down stairs, followed by an infinite number of the curious, who saw them enter a carriage, the coachman and servants of which were masked, and who were ordered to drive to the Capucin convent, outside such a gate. They drove off in a violent hurry, and in a moment were out of sight, leaving the spectators in as much astonishment as uncertainty. It is generally supposed that it was a plan concerted to test the feelings of the people with regard to the Emperor’s projected abolition of convents.
The Prince of Solms was exceedingly pleased with a young lady who was in the year of her novitiate and about to become a nun. He fancied that his attentions were beginning to shake her resolution, and though the day of profession was near at hand, he fancied that she would prefer him to a cloister. One day, after he had paid her a long visit at the grate, and had no great reason to complain of her cruelty, she begged of him, as a particular favour, a lock of his hair. The Prince, confirmed in his flattering illusions by this request, immediately cut one off for her. At his next visit he found her particularly lively and agreeable. “May I presume,” he said, “to hope that you have given up all idea of a convent life, and have cast a favourable look upon myself?” “So great is my affection for you,” replied the lady, “that I have just finished making a wig for the Infant Jesus out of your hair, and if you come to my profession to-morrow you will see it on the altar.”