LETTER XXXI.
SIR,Rome, March 10, 1731
I was some Days ago at an Audience of the Holy Father. I might have had it sooner, but I thought fit to give Way to those that were more importunate for it; for Clement XII. has been continually teaz’d upon that Score from the very Day of his Exaltation. The Form of demanding Audiences is the same here as at other Courts, and I assure you, the Difficulty of obtaining them is every whit as great; so that in this Point, all Countries, and all Courts are alike.
Having made my Application to Signior Acquaviva, the Major Domo, who officiated as Head-Chamberlain, in the room of Signior[4] Doria, then indisposed, he gave the Pope Notice that I attended, and he order’d me to be immediately admitted. I left my Hat and Sword at the
Door, according to Custom. I found the Pope sitting under a Canopy, in an Elbow-chair, ascended by three Steps, with his right Foot resting on a Cushion of red Velvet. As I enter’d the Chamber, Signior Acquaviva bid me kneel, which I did, and the Pope gave me his Blessing. I then rose up, and approach’d him as far as half the Length of the Chamber, when I kneel’d again, and receiv’d the Pope’s Blessing a second Time. Then I arose again, and coming up close to the Pope, I kneel’d again, and receiv’d a third Blessing, all which Blessings really did not cost his Holiness much Trouble; for they consisted in no more than making a Sign of the Cross, without speaking one Word. The Pope, who is talkative, but eloquent, ask’d me many Questions, and recollected that he had known me when he was only a Cardinal. He was extremely gracious, and I had reason to be satisfied with my Audience so long as I had no Favour to ask. But the Moment that I put myself in the Number of Petitioners, I saw the Pope’s Countenance change; his Smiles were turn’d into Frowns, and I could easily perceive that he had rather have my Room than my Company. But being appriz’d beforehand, that his Holiness was always uneasy at receiving Petitions, I proceeded without omitting a Word of what I had to say to him. In going out of the Chamber, I went backward, kneeling three times by the Way, as I had done at Entrance, and the Pope at each time gave me his Blessing, which was all that I got by my Audience; but I am preparing to desire another very soon; for they say, the honest Pope loves to be importun’d, and therefore I will gratify him in his own Way.
Indeed all that go to the Audience of the Holy Father fare no better than I did, unless they are
Princes, and even the Catholics must all kiss the Pope’s Toe. The Prince Regent of Waldeck, who was here not long ago, went to an Audience of his Holiness, and was receiv’d in the same manner as the Princes of Brunswic had been formerly: He waited some Moments in the Antichamber, and without being oblig’d to leave his Sword and Hat, as those of his Retinue were, he was introduc’d by the Major Domo to the Pope, who receiv’d him seated on his Throne. The Prince did not kneel as he enter’d, nor did the Pope, who ask’d him several Questions, and was inform’d that he was a Lutheran, give him his Blessing: Before he withdrew, the Prince desir’d the Pope, that he would give him leave to introduce his Retinue to him; when one of his Gentlemen, scrupulous to the last Degree, neither kneel’d, nor kiss’d the Pope’s Foot. At Geneva indeed he deserv’d to have his Statue erected, tho’ here his Politeness was call’d in question; but as for the Prince of Waldeck, all Rome was charm’d with his obliging and polite Behaviour: He spent four or five Months here, and liv’d handsomely. He apply’d himself to the Knowledge of Antiques, and made a Collection of Stones finely cut, which, tho’ not so large as some are, is not the worse chosen; for he has discover’d a very great Taste and Skill in Curiosities; and happy would it be for Germany if all its Princes were like him.
The Prince of Waldeck leads me to give you an Account of those unfortunate Princes who are here call’d the King and Queen of England. Perhaps you will not dislike to know what they are doing, and on what Foot they stand here. That unfortunate Prince, which is a Title I think no body can envy him, lives a very melancholy Life; and I question whether the Pension which the Pope allows him of 12000 Crowns, is enough to make
him easy under his Afflictions: He lodges in the Palace of the Marquis Monti, and has a great Number of Domestics, but few in his Service that are Persons of Quality. My Lord Dunbar is the chief Man at his Court, since Mr. Hayes, to whom the Pretender gave the Title of my Lord Inverness, retir’d to Avignon: This Gentleman is intrusted with the Education of the young Princes, who are here styl’d the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of York, and as lovely Children they both are as one shall see.
The King, or the Pretender, it matters not, is complimented with the Style of Majesty by the Pope, and by all that have Access to him. He never goes to an Audience of the Holy Father in public, but always by the Back-stairs; and the Pope not only gives him an Arm-chair, but all the Honours are paid to him that are due to a King who keeps incognito. When the Cardinals visit him, he gives them the Tabouret, or little Stool; but the Imperial Cardinals never go to see him, nor did they think fit to do it, even at the Time when the Emperor seem’d to be more embroil’d with the King of Great Britain than ever; whereas the French Cardinals go to him every Day, and are always with him, notwithstanding the strict Alliance between the King their Master, and the King of Great Britain. When the eldest Prince, who is here styl’d the Prince of Wales, goes to wait on the Pope, he is treated as the presumptive Heir of a Crown; he has a Chair set for him with a Back to it, and takes Place of the Cardinals. As to the younger Son, the pretended Duke of York, his Rank is not yet settled, nor has he yet made a Visit to the Pope.
The Pretender is of a middling Stature, but a mere Skeleton; and if I may venture to say it, has nothing in his Looks of an Impostor: He is prodigiously
like the Pictures I have seen of the late King James II. his Father, only his Aspect is something more melancholy; but he is so far from it in his natural Temper, that he is a Lover of Pleasures, and would indulge himself in Gallantry, if he was not so strictly watch’d by the Priests; for if the scandalous Chronicle does not belye him, Mrs. Hayes, alias Lady Inverness, had, for a while, the Honour of obliging him. If one may guess at the Heart by external Appearances, he is sincerely attach’d to the Religion which he professes, yet without being such a Bigot as some will have him to be; for he causes his Children to be educated by Protestants, and every Sunday a Church of England Minister preaches in English in the Protestant Chapel of his Palace: He is extremely reserv’d at first to those with whom he is not acquainted, but it wears off by Degrees; and when once he knows People, he is very courteous and civil to them. I have the Honour to be often at his Table, and I am bound to acknowledge his Favours to me.
His Table, which is commonly laid for a dozen Guests, is serv’d with what is grand and delicate. The Queen eats at her own little Table. People are seated at the King’s Table without any Distinction of Rank, and he sits himself between the two Princes his Sons: He talks a great deal at his Meals, but the Tone of his Voice is not the most agreeable: His Conversation runs generally upon common Topicks, and falls very naturally upon his Misfortunes. All this Prince’s Time is regularly divided; he rises early, devotes the Morning to his Business, hears Mass before Noon, when he goes to Dinner, and after sitting an Hour and half, or two Hours at Table, takes a Nap; and then, unless it be a Saint’s Day, when he goes to Vespers, he walks out for the Air in some Garden
or other without Rome, where he exercises himself on Horseback, or else diverts himself at Mall with his Sons, and his Gentlemen. In the Evening he returns to his Palace, and receives Visits from the Cardinals; at Ten o’Clock he goes to Supper, and at Midnight to Bed. During the Carnival he was almost every Day at the Opera, where his Box being very large, he used to sup with the Gentlemen and Ladies of his Court.
The Queen his Wife is a Princess, who deserves in reality to be a Queen; and tho’ not a sparkling Beauty, it may be said that her Person is infinitely charming; she has indeed the Character of a most accomplish’d Lady, and never was there a better natur’d Person with more Humility; she is friendly, compassionate, charitable; her Piety is exemplary, and in Truth, she leads the Life of a Saint, without affecting the Shew of ceremonial Devotion; for she has nothing more at heart than to do good, and her Love of one sublime Virtue is incredible; for tho’ she is heartily attach’d to her own Religion, she has no Rancour against those who differ from her in Opinion, but would fain reclaim them by her good Example and good Nature. Were she Mistress of a Kingdom, she would certainly make it her Rule to discharge the Duties of her Rank as became it; and indeed, Nature has given her great Advantages to acquit herself worthily in such a Sphere; for she has a wonderful quick Comprehension, an admirable Memory, and she speaks Polish, High-Dutch, French, Italian, and English so well, that ’tis not easy to distinguish which of those Languages is most familiar to her. I own to you, that of all the Princesses whom ever I had the Honour to approach, I don’t know one more deserving of the Veneration of the Public. I should be glad to see her happy; and if that Respect and Duty, from which I shall never depart, did not
bind me so strongly to the King and Queen of Great Britain, I could wish to see her wear the Crown of the three Kingdoms.
You know that this Princess is Daughter to Prince James Sobieski, and by consequence Cousin German to the Emperor, and the Queen of Spain, and Niece to the Elector Palatine, and the Queen of Spain, Widow of Charles II. Yet all this did not protect her from being arrested at Inspruck, when she pass’d that Way to Italy, to be married to the Pretender; she was kept in very close Custody, and the Manner of her Deliverance shews the Superiority of her Genius. The Pretender sent Mr. Gaydon, then a Major in the Service of France, to try if he could procure her Liberty; the said Officer went to Inspruck, accompany’d by Mr. Wogan, an English Gentleman, and one Misset, an Irishman, who carry’d his Wife with him. They arriv’d accordingly at Inspruck with a great Retinue, and there they pass’d for People of Consequence: They contriv’d so that their Coach Wheels broke at the Gate of the City, to give them a Pretence for staying in the Town till their Coach was repair’d: They introduc’d themselves into all Assemblies, and found out a Nun whom they brib’d to deliver Letters to the Princess. Having fix’d on the Day for carrying her off, and even appointed the Hour, which was Eleven at Night, they got a young Woman of the Princess’s Stature to pass thro’ the Guards in the Antichamber, and to lie in the Prisoner’s Bed, who for two Days had pretended to be sick. The Princess put on the Girl’s Cloaths, and in that Disguise went out of her Apartment, pass’d thro’ her Guards, and made up towards Misset, who gave a Whistle opposite to the Convent, as had been agreed on beforehand, that she might know whom to apply to. The Princess was conducted to an Inn, and as it had snow’d a
great deal, and was very dirty and dark, she happen’d to step into a Slough; one of her Shoes stuck so fast in the Mud, that she was oblig’d to leave it behind her, and to walk only with one Shoe on to the Inn. From thence, without giving herself Time to change her Stockings, she went, wet and draggled as she was, into a Coach, where Mrs. Misset and Mr. Gaydon had the Honour to sit with her. Wogan rode by the Side of the Coach, and Misset stay’d two Hours longer at Inspruck, to see whether any Discovery was made of the Princess’s Flight. The Silence of the Guard was such, that he believ’d they knew nothing of the Matter, so that he rode after the Princess, but kept two Post-Stages behind, in order to watch if they were not pursued, which was a very good Precaution; for early next Day it was found out that the Princess had made her Escape; and the Commandant at Inspruck immediately sent off Messengers to all the great Roads, with Orders to all the Officers of the Country to apprehend the Fugitive. Misset being overtaken by one of those Messengers, he travell’d a little way with him, and resolv’d either to make him drunk, or to knock him on the Head. Having provided himself beforehand with a certain intoxicating Drug which immediately bereaves People of their Senses, and throws them into a profound Sleep, he gave some of it to the Messenger; and when he found him doz’d, he took away his Dispatches, and went and overtook the Princess, who, after travelling three Days and three Nights successively, without Rest, was got into the Dominions of the Holy See.
Arriving at Bologna, she there found my Lord Dunbar, vested with a Proxy from the Pretender, then in Spain, to marry her; which Ceremony was accordingly perform’d there without much Pomp, and the Princess set out in a few Days for Rome.
My Lady Marr, accompany’d by all the English of both Sexes that were at Rome of the Pretender’s Party, went in that Prince’s Coaches to meet the Princess; and the Cardinals, the Roman Princes, and all the Nobility likewise sent their Coaches. Thus did the Princess make her public Entry into Rome, where she was receiv’d with great Marks of Respect; and there she was, not long after, join’d by her Husband[5].
While I am speaking of the Pretender, I ought not to omit acquainting you of a certain Prophecy in every body’s Mouth here, which was said to be found among the Papers of the late Pope, importing, that in the Year 1734, the Pretender should be in the peaceable Possession of the Throne of Great Britain; but I would not give much Money for his Hopes[6]. Be this as it will, the Prophecy is as follows:
Dum Marcus cantabit Hallelujah,
Et Antonius Veni Creator,
Et Joannes Baptista cænabit,
Tune regnabit et triumphabit Rex in Anglia Jacobus III.
i. e.
When Easter falls on St. Mark’s Day,
And Whitsunday on St. Antony’s of Padua,
And when St. John the Baptist’s is a Sacrament Day,
Then King James III. shall reign and triumph in England.
Thanks to God, the Carnival is ended; I say, Thanks to God, because it was to me very tiresom,
tho’ it lasted here, according to an establish’d Custom, but a Week. During all that Time, from Two o’Clock in the Afternoon till Sun-set, all the Streets were full of Masquers, some on Foot, and some in open Chaises: The former say a thousand silly Things, and the latter throw Meslin in one another’s Eyes by Handfuls; but the best on’t is, that either by their Cloaths, or their Equipage, every body is known. Besides, the Pageantry of the Romans is always the same, even in Masquerades; they dress up their Domestics like Harlequins, and make them follow them with their Faces bare. They thus rake the Air gravely in open Chariots made like Gondolas. Their Horses are adorn’d with Plumes of Feathers, and loaded with little Bells like ours in the Sled Races. In the Evening the Coaches range themselves in two Rows in the Street del Corso, which is besides pretty narrow, and there they see the Race of Barbs, which are five or six Horses, that are suffer’d to run loose without a Rider, from the Gate del Popoli to a Place beyond the Venetian Palace. The poor Beasts gallop thro’ the Shouts and Cries of the Populace, and are often crippled by striking themselves against the Coaches. The first of these Horses that reaches the Goal wins a Prize for his Master, which generally consists of a Piece of Cloth of Gold, and at Sun-set every body retires. Mean time a Roman will tell you, that the Carnival of Rome is the finest in the World.
But the thing of which they brag most, and which they believe is no-where to be parallell’d for Magnificence, is their Balls, of which you shall now be Judge: Several Gentlemen having clubb’d this Winter for the Hire of the Palace Barberini, near the Mount of Piety, and caus’d it to be furnish’d by the Jew Brokers; when the Day was fix’d for the Ball, they invited all the Ladies; and
as to the Gentlemen, they had the Liberty of appearing there mask’d, provided they made themselves known at the Door: All the Rooms were small, and but poorly lighted; there were several Pieces of Dancing to the Music of five or six Violins: The Room design’d for the principal Nobility was encompass’d with Forms, and the Place for the Dancers was an oval Nook rail’d in. A Gentleman of the Company that gave the Ball stood at the Entrance of the Oval; they gave him the Title of Master of the Hall, and ’twas he that call’d out the Dancers. All the Ladies were mask’d at this Ball, which was call’d a Feast, but I know not why; for there were Glasses indeed, but there was nothing to eat or drink. The Ladies were all very gay, and some of them in Court-Dresses. I have been twice at these pretended Entertainments, but was so tir’d, and in such Danger of being press’d to Death, that I don’t care to go again; for which reason the Romans say, I have not an elegant Taste.
Neither am I very well reconcil’d to their Plays, of which indeed here are none all the Year, except during the Carnival; but then we had two Opera-Theatres, and four or five for Comedy. Of all these Theatres there’s but one that’s good for any thing, and that’s the Ladies Theatre, commonly call’d the Theatre of Aliberti because ’twas built by Order of one Count Aliberti. The Room is excessively large, so that the Voices are lost in it; it has seven Rows of Boxes, so low and little, that it makes the Room look like a Henroost; the Pit will hold 900 Persons with Ease: The Stage is spacious, very high, and fitely decorated; but they don’t shift the Scenes with that Dexterity as they do at our Play-houses, yet, when the whole is put together, the Place is not to be despised: The Habits of the three principal Actors are magnificent,
but those of the rest are horrible. Their Voices are good, and so are their Instruments for the most part; but their Dancers are too bad to behold, and you can’t imagine any thing more hideous: The Women are in the Disguise of Men, out of a ridiculous Scruple, if I may venture to call it so, which they have here, that Women should not be seen at the Theatres. This is the Reason, that the Operas of Rome are vastly inferior to the other Operas of Italy. There is not perhaps a more ridiculous Sight, than to see these Creatures, who are but half Men, play the Parts of Women; yet, tho’ they have neither Air nor Gracefulness, they are applauded here as much as the best Actresses are elsewhere. Tho’ I am passionately fond of the Italian Music, yet I own to you, that I am disgusted with their Operas, when I see those Eunuchs play the Part of a Roland, a Hercules, or some such Hero; and I have not Patience to see no more than half a dozen Actors, no Machines, and no Dances, except in the Interludes. In my Opinion, such an Opera rather deserves the Name of a Concert; good Voices here are very scarce, and there are actually but five or six Men, and three Women, that have the Reputation of singing well. The Case is the very same with the Composers; they have just lost one of the ablest Men of that Class; viz. Leonard Vinci, who, they say, was poison’d at Naples; but there are still remaining M. Hass, commonly call’d the Saxon, and Signior Purpora, of whom the former is a German, who married the famous Signiora Faustina.
While I am giving you an Account of the Pleasures of Rome, I ought not to omit the Inundations of the Square Navona, which are perform’d on the four Sundays in the Month of August. Two Thirds of the Square being then laid under Water, it forms a Lake, in which the Coaches make a
Ring. The adjacent Windows are full of Spectators, and the Fronts of the Houses are crowded by the Populace, who make hideous Shouts and Outcries, when a Coach happens to take in a little Water, or when one overturns, which sometimes is the Case. The oddest Thing of all to my Mind is, that while the People were intent upon seeing the Coaches pass, and playing a thousand Pranks, a Jesuit, mounted upon a Rail at the other End of the Square, bawl’d out in vain for an Audience of Penitents; and tho’ very few, if any body, heard him, yet he went on haranguing, and ’twas not his Fault that every body did not forsake all to hear him. About twenty Paces from the Preacher was a Mountebank, who, by the comical Jests and Actions of his Merry-Andrew, drew a much greater Audience to him than the Jesuit had.
Are not these now very inchanting Pleasures? Yet a Roman, who never pass’d the Ponte Mole, as there are a great many who have not, will tell you there are none like those of Rome. But I affirm that the Romans don’t know what Diversion is; for in those Parties of Pleasure where reigns the greatest Freedom, there’s always an Air of Constraint, which one does not see elsewhere: Nor does a free Deportment become them, insomuch that when they assume such a Carriage, they naturally forget Politeness, which besides is not what they are much used to; for they know how to be respectful, much more than to be polite. The Way to be acquainted with them thoroughly, is to visit them at their Country-Seats, where they are more frank, less ceremonious, and more sociable, and where they live much better than they do at Rome, at least they feed better; and I will even venture to say, that they there spend high, but they get not the Credit by such Living which they ought, because they don’t set it off to the best Advantage; and if I am
not too much prejudiced, it seems to me, that they grudge the Expence. The most sumptuous Article of their Repasts is Deserts, and they have excellent Cooks and Butlers; but as for us Ultramontains, we are not quite so well used to their Method of Cookery.
I know not whether ’tis the Depravity of my Taste, or the Want of Discernment; but I cannot conceive what Motives, except Devotion or Curiosity, can bring any Man to Rome, than which there is hardly a more melancholy City in the World: Yet I know some Foreigners, and in particular certain Englishmen, who are fond of Rome to a Degree of Enthusiasm. I strive to think as they do, and would fain persuade myself, that the Life which they lead here is agreeable; but I can’t be of that Opinion, nor can I accustom myself to take up Manners and Customs so contrary to ours. At my Age, ’tis a hard Matter to fall into a new Taste and Fashion of Living: Those of Rome don’t agree with me, and I foresee they never will; yet if by Chance I should meet with any Pastime here, I promise you, I’ll revoke my Complaints, and give you an Account of my Pleasures, as I do of my Chagrin.
The People here rise late, and go to Bed late; the first Thing which they do is to drink Chocolate; then they hear Mass in their domestic Chapel, of which almost every House has one: They afterwards make some Visits, return home at Dinner-time, undress, and dine frugally with their Families. After their Meal they get between the Sheets, and sleep for an Hour or two; and after that, loiter away as much in doing nothing at all; but then they dress, and go the Ring, which is without the Gate del Popoli; from thence to the Ponte Mole there’s a Walk, which is very sorrily pav’d, between two Walls, and some pitiful Houses; and
there’s no Air, but Dust enough to choak one. When the Sun is upon its Decline, the Beau Monde repairs to the Square, or Place d’Espagne, where I think I have already told you how they amuse themselves. From the Square they go and make their Visits of Ceremony: At Two o’Clock at Night, which in the long Days in Summer is about Ten with us, they fall into Assemblies. These may be divided into three Classes, the great Companies for Gaming, the private Companies where they also play, and the Societies in which they only converse. Neither of the three are very numerous, which is owing to the Difference between the Princesses and the Ladies, and to the Fondness of all the Ladies to have Company at their own Houses.
The Assemblies that are most frequented by Foreigners, are those of Mesdames Corsini, the Pope’s Nieces, the Duke of Santo Bueno, and the Countess of Bolognetti. These are the three Houses at Rome where there is most Company, and where Foreigners are most civilly entertain’d. The Duke has a Concert at his House every Friday, at which are present all the People of Distinction at Rome. Madame de Bolognetti has a grand Assembly every Sunday, which begins with a great Levee of Women, for the most part well-dress’d, who lend their Ears to two or three prating Abbés, lolling carelessly on the Backs of their Chairs. A Foreigner enters, and salutes the Company respectfully; but no Lady gives heed to him, except Madame Bolognetti, a fine young Lady, who is the only one that rises; and she does her best to entertain the poor Stranger in French, which she talks very prettily. Many other Ladies both understand, and can speak this Language; but whether it is owing to Timorousness or Ill-nature, they don’t care to talk it; which is so true, that I remember the first Time I travell’d hither, I one Day accosted a very amiable
Lady in the French Tongue, because then I did not understand the Italian; but she answer’d me in good French, Sir, I neither speak nor understand the French Language. She then turn’d about, and in a Moment I saw a well-looking Abbé come in, who talk’d with her in private all the Evening, and probably in such a Language as she understood.
After the Levee they fall to play, but ’tis at such Games as we Ultramontains know no more of than Magic; viz. such as Tarot, Pazzica, Premiere, and Milchiades. As to the last of these, I take it to be like the Languages, which ’tis difficult to be Master of, unless People begin to learn them when they are young. It would take up a Man’s whole Life to learn to know the Cards, whereof at one Game they play with 99, which are painted too with very extraordinary Figures of Popes, Devils, &c. and it often happens, that the Devil takes up the Pope. During the Conclave they play at Pharao, but the Pope has prohibited all Games of Hazard, which was an Injury to many Houses that subsisted by the Money for the Cards.
The private Assemblies differ only from the public ones, in that they have not so much Company. There is generally the Mistress of the House, and a Dozen Petits-colets, who really are the Petits-Maîtres of this Place, supposing them to be Italians; for you are not to imagine that these Gentlemen will suffer a poor Ultramontain Abbé to put in a Word, because they think he has neither Sense nor Merit. As this is a Country of Priests, you shall see ten Sparks of the Band to one of the Sword. ’Tis true, that the Abbé wears the same Habit as the Gentlemen of the Gown, and as all others do who are not able to lay out much Money in Cloaths; so that when you see a Petit-colet come out of any suspicious Places, you must beware
of Mistakes; for they are not always Priests, nor even Clergymen.
The third Class of Assemblies, where there is no Gaming, is generally at the House of some Prince; there I spend my Evenings with great Pleasure and Freedom; yet ’tis at one of the chief Houses of Rome, and really the Conversation is held in one of the finest Apartments in the World. I enter a very spacious magnificent Room, illuminated by a Couple of Wax Candles, so that if Custom had not taught me the way, I shou’d be at a Loss where to salute the Master and Mistress of the House: These two little Candles are plac’d in great Candlesticks of Silver upon old-fashion’d Stands of the same Metal. A Fountain of solid Silver, from which the Water spouts with a soft Murmur, invites me agreeably to Slumber; and it seems as if those in the Room were afraid to awake me; for they do nothing but whisper, and not a Mortal stirs from the Spot in which his good or ill Fortune plac’d him, because it wou’d be a Crime even to move a Chair; so that unless one had a speaking Trumpet, a Man must be content to converse with his next Neighbour. The Moment one enters the Room, two Pages in a black Livery attend us with Ice upon Salvers, but I don’t accept it every time ’tis offer’d; for if I did, my Stomach wou’d have long ago been congeal’d like the frozen Ocean. This profound Silence, this murmuring Fountain, all these Cardinals, Prelates and Abbats, dress’d in Black; the two Wax Candles, giving a dismal Light; all this, I say, together, makes the Assembly look like Mutes posted to watch a Corpse, and I assure you that a Church-yard itself does not put me more in mind of Mortality. Nevertheless it sometimes happens that one or other of the Company raises his Voice, and relates the News of the Day. This is generally confin’d to what is done
within the City; for what was said by the Pope, the contrary Effect of some Medicine, or else some Cardinal or Prelate, the Heat or Cold of the Weather, and the Age of the Moon, are the common Topics. And after having thoroughly canvass’d these momentous Subjects till Midnight, all the Company retires with their Heads as empty as their Stomachs.
Can you think, Sir, after what I have told you, that a Foreigner passes his Time here well? No, truly, Rome is a City that a young Gentleman indeed ought absolutely to see; for here he will conceive a perfect Notion of Architecture, establish himself in a Taste for Painting and Sculpture, and acquire a true Idea of the Magnificence of old Rome: But when he has digested all this, I would advise him to be gone, since there is nothing more for him to learn, and he is in Danger of forgetting every thing. There is not so much as one good Fencing Master, and scarce a Master of the Languages that understands the Italian; and those who are Dabblers in this Way are generally Foreigners, who have neither Accent nor Method. All that a young Gentleman can learn here is Architecture, and the Canon Law; for as to Ecclesiastical History, there are few People that are Masters of it in its Purity.
A Gentleman that lives beyond the Mountains will here be apt to forget the good Manners he may have contracted in France, or elsewhere; for, I say it again, the Generality of the Romans know nothing more than Ceremony, because they are ignorant of good Manners, and there’s scarce one of them in a thousand that has the Air of a Man of Quality: To be a Judge of this, one must see them at Table, and in what a very slovenly Manner they behave at their Meals, which is owing to their eating generally alone; for they then loll so
much at Table, that when they dine in Company, they are at a Loss what to do. They are not only nasty in their manner of eating, but in their Cloaths; for I believe there is not above one out of thirty that puts on fresh Linen every Day. I remember that in 1719, when I was in France, a Reformado Colonel, who, tho’ an Italian, was in the French Service, often came to me in a Morning, and seeing me dress myself, told me one Day that he observ’d I follow’d the French Fashion strictly: I ask’d him, In what? He made Answer, In my changing my Shirt every Day. Nevertheless I wou’d not have you think that this Slovenliness is general; for there are People as much perfum’d here as elsewhere; and you may take my Word for it, that a Petit-Maître at Rome is as great a Fop as the pertest French Petit-Maître. Indeed they are more rare here than elsewhere, because no young Sparks are admitted to the Assemblies before they are twenty Years of Age.
But as for what remains of the Character of the Romans, I must tell you ingenuously, that I think the Notion we on the other Side of the Mountains have of them comes far short of it. There are good People in all Countries, and I know some Romans of as strict Probity as the honestest Teutonics. I know others that are not so honest; but is not the Case the same every-where, and is there one Country upon the Face of the Earth, where all the People are virtuous? The Italians are in general accus’d of being jealous, but I really think it wrong; for there’s no Nation where the Ladies have more Freedom than here. ’Tis possible that some of the Leaven of the antient Jealousy may still remain among the Citizens; but as to the People of Quality, I don’t think them any more liable to that Imputation than our People are. I wish I cou’d say as much in their Vindication as
to their being too much given to Niggardliness; but the Fact is too well known, and ’tis the original Sin of almost all the Italians, particularly of the Romans, from the highest to the lowest; and ’tis undoubtedly this avaricious Temper which makes them so sober as they are; for I think I took Notice to you, that when they are at other Folks Tables, they are intemperate enough; yet I never saw the better Sort drunk, and the common People but very seldom. They are accus’d also of being revengeful, which may be true enough; but really they are cry’d out against upon that Score much more than they deserve; for I have known some that have receiv’d Affronts, so good-natur’d as to forget them. ’Tis true, that the Populace are very apt to make use of the Stilletto, but this is owing to the too great Indulgence of Justice. A Man convicted of Murder for the first Time is condemn’d to the Gallies; tho’ in some Cases indeed he is only banish’d from the City, and the Ecclesiastical State; and then, after two or three Years Absence, he pays 50 Crowns, and returns to Rome. They who have committed a Murder, and are not apprehended, generally compound the Matter with the Government by paying a certain Sum of Money. If Justice was no stricter in our Part of the World, and if our Churches were Sanctuaries, as they are here, we shou’d have more Crimes perhaps committed among us than there are at Rome, where, when all is said and done, we don’t hear of Robberies, nor of Murders committed for the sake of Robberies; and tho’ there are no Lanthorns, nor Watchmen, nor Patrolls here in the Night, I shou’d make no Scruple to go from one End of the City to the other with my Purse in my Hand. What I shou’d be most afraid of wou’d be the being assassinated by Mistake; but even Murders of this Kind are much oftner
committed among the Dregs of the People, than among Persons of Breeding; for since I have been here, I have not heard of such an Accident to any Person of Note.
I happen’d not long ago to be one Evening at a House not far from my Quarters, so that I went home alone, and on Foot; it might be about Eleven o’Clock, ’twas a fine Moon light Night, and there were a great many People stirring in the Streets. I pass’d thro’ the Street del Corso, and just as I came to the Square of Colonna, near the House of Cardinal Imperiali, I saw two Men coming towards me, one at a little Distance behind the other: As the former brush’d close by me, I heard a Pistol go off, and saw the poor Man fall down dead at my Feet: The Shot came from the Man that was behind, with whom, it seems, he had a Quarrel at Gaming; but nobody troubled their Heads to apprehend the Criminal, so that he went very quietly to take Shelter in a Church, where I saw him some Days after; at length he is got abroad, and if he can but make up the Sum of 50 Crowns, he will be sure of his Pardon, after three Years Exile. But ’tis really an abominable Case, that sacred Places, set apart to keep the Holocaust without Spot or Blemish, shou’d serve as a Place of Retreat for a Miscreant, that comes in reeking with his Neighbour’s Blood. This is an Abuse which every body confesses, but they are loth to violate antient Privileges. In the last Pope’s Time, Alberoni propos’d to the other Cardinals in a Congregation to solicit the Pope to take away the Franchises from the Churches; but his Proposal was rejected, whereupon he said with Indignation, ‘Since ’tis so, I heartily wish, that some Villain wou’d take it into his Head to murder some one of you, and fly for Refuge to the Church of which I am Protector: I assure you, that were the whole
Sacred College to demand him of me, instead of delivering him up to Justice, I wou’d do all in my Power to promote his Escape.’ ’Tis said, that Clement XII. has a Mind to take away those Franchises with regard to Assassins; but I question whether he will have the Courage to venture at it, because it brings so much Grist to the Friers Mills, the Privileges of whose Convents procure them the Respect of the better Sort of People, and the Homage of the Mob.
Notwithstanding the Disorders that happen here, and the Abuses that are so establish’d, yet there is not a City in the World where God is better serv’d, and where Charity to the Poor is more put in Practice. For this Purpose there’s a great Number of Hospitals, among which that for Pilgrims is worth seeing. Hundreds of Pilgrims of all Nations are admitted into it almost every Day, who are there lodg’d and taken care of for three Days, and then dismiss’d with Money in their Pockets. Towards the latter end of the Holy Week, these Pilgrims are serv’d, the Men by the Cardinals, and the Women by the Princesses and Ladies of Rome.
Divine Service is perform’d with very great Pomp in all the Churches, but particularly in the Pope’s Chapel. Were I to give you an Account of all the Ceremonies therein observ’d, it wou’d take me up another Day. I will, in due Time and Place, give you a Narrative of the Ceremonies of the Holy Week, which, tho’ I was present at once before, during the Pontificate of Clement XI. I am very desirous of seeing again, that I may be the better enabled to relate them to you hereafter. I am, &c.
