At the time of year when we arrived in Rome that city was full of strangers. Amongst others, there were the Prince of Saxe-Gotha, Mr., Mrs., and Miss J. Pitt, Mr. and Mrs. Swinbourne, Sir Thomas Gascoyne, Sir Francis and Miss Holbourn, Mr. Henderson, Lord Lewisham, Justice Welsh and his daughter, Lord Duncannon, Comte Dillon, Comte Edouard Dillon, and Mr. T. Dillon, Chevalier Jerningham, Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly, Sir Robert and Lady Smith, Lady Euphemia Stewart, Lady Margaret Gordon, Mr. Stuart Mackenzie and Lady Betty, Mrs. Gibbs and Miss Stevens, Sir William Molesworth, Mr. Rooke, Mr. Perry, the Rev. Mr. Sherlocke, Mr. and Mrs. Petty, Mr. and Mrs. Craddock Hartopp, Mrs. Chantrey, Mr. and Mrs. Gore, Miss and Miss Emily Gore, Sir Carnaby and Mrs. Haggerstone, the Bishop of Derry, Mrs. and Miss Louisa Hervey, Mr. Curzon, Mr. Slade, Sir Edward Hales and son, the Abbé Preston, &c. &c.
We had letters to several persons, and more particularly to Cardinal de Bernis,[[21]] the French ambassador, who at that time had his amiable niece, the Marquise du Puy-Montbrun, and her married daughter of sixteen, the Vicomtesse de Bernis, with her husband and his brother, the Abbé de Bernis, staying in his house. From his rank, influence, and fortune, the Cardinal de Bernis made the most splendid figure at Rome. He was then about sixty-two years of age, and still more celebrated for his writings and the elegance of his manners than for having been prime minister of France. He inhabited the Palazzo de Carolis, a very considerable building, opposite the church of San Marcello, on the Corso. We were invited there to a conversazione, which began at half-past seven, or one hour of the night, according to the Italian dial. At this period of the year twenty-four o’clock is at about half-past six; it is never earlier than five or later than eight, but it is regulated by the sunset. The “conversazioni di prima sera” were without cards, while those of “seconda sera,” at which cards were played, began at two hours of night, and the company were all assembled by three; that is, about half-past nine. After passing through the hall of the Palazzo de Carolis, filled with servants in livery, and the first ante-room, filled with attendants of a higher order, we found the cardinal in one of the first rooms, which was called the “Stanza dei Boccetti,” on account of a sort of billiard-table at which he used to play, where the balls are thrown by the hand (similar tables were in all the great houses in Rome). We passed on through a suite of fine rooms, and in the farthest, which is a noble gallery, with columns of “giallo antico,” we found the Marquise du Puy-Montbrun, some ladies, and many gentlemen. Ices, lemonades, &c., were served, but no cards. A few nights afterwards we were introduced by the marchioness to the Princess Santa Croce at her conversazione, which was one of those “di seconda sera,” where some people played, but more looked on.
The Palazzo Santa Croce was full of fine pictures, and the company numerous, though, owing to the size of most of the fine houses at Rome, there was never any crowding at an assembly; for the Roman nobility, the corps diplomatique, and strangers who were well recommended, could alone be admitted to the conversazioni; and at the most forty ladies were to be seen there, the nobility not being numerous, and as the old ladies did not go, and no unmarried ones, unless engaged or on the point of becoming nuns, the men were in much greater strength; for, besides the heads of families, the younger brothers, cardinals, prelates, officers, &c., amounted to a considerable number. People began to come about nine, and went away about half-past eleven.[[22]]
When a lady went to a conversazione, her servants called out “Torcie!” and two servants of the house would come down, each with a torch, to light her up the stairs. Sometimes at very great assemblies, or at a fête, the court and the whole staircase were as light as day with torches placed everywhere. At such times they were not called for. Great order was observed to prevent all confusion of carriages, which drove in at one gate and out at another, generally through a colonnade, or at least a covered portico. When any particular occasion rendered it necessary, from fear of a crowd, soldiers were stationed to regulate the approach to the house, and to keep the coachmen in order. The master or mistress of the house always remained near the door, and the groom of the chambers announced the visitor, who had been before announced to him through the different rooms by the footmen, valets, &c., according to their several degrees. Everybody was full-dressed, and this formality of entrance saved people from trouble, who otherwise would not know whither to go, or where to find the person to whom they were going.
Great propriety of manner, with much wit and cheerfulness, characterised the Roman society. The ladies sat still till they engaged in cards, and the men stood round and chatted with them, or sat down beside them if there was a vacant chair. The system of regularity prevailed to such an extent at Rome, that the ladies usually went to the same part of the room, and almost to the same chair, so that it was very easy for their acquaintance to find them. The Romans, more than any people I have ever known, followed the maxim of never interfering with the habits and customs, the pleasures, or even the prejudices of others. “Live and let live” was their practice no less than their principle, and this had a happy influence in staying the progress of scandal, which was certainly less prevalent at Rome than in most places.
I cannot deny that the custom of having “cavalieri serventi” was pretty general. Some ladies went alone, some with their husbands, and some with their brothers-in-law; but these were comparatively few. Yet I firmly believe that many of those intimacies, which are so much criticised in other countries, were perfectly innocent, and it was very usual to go into company attended by two, sometimes by three, gentlemen. Very respectable young women did this, and it was certainly the safest way. These made her party at cards; and when she left the assembly she wished them “good night,” and went home with her husband. Light characters were thought ill of at Rome, as they are everywhere, though they were not so much pulled to pieces. Women never went together to parties unless for the purpose of a presentation or a masquerade: if a lady was invited to a dinner party, her husband also was asked.
But what I particularly admired in the society there was, that character was so justly estimated. The Romans had wonderful tact and penetration in discovering and appreciating the merit of their fellow-citizens, and also of strangers whom they had an opportunity of knowing, either personally, or from their works or actions. They weighed everything, and their judgment was very correct.
The theatres were open only during Carnival, that is to say, between Christmas and Easter. No women were allowed to appear upon the stage. All conversazioni, except those of old ladies or of cardinals, were suspended during Carnival, unless on a Friday, when there was no opera. For the first four nights it was the custom that everybody should go dressed, and even those who had boxes of their own liked, on these occasions, to go to the ambassadors’ boxes, where they were more in sight, and certainly had the best view. The Governor of Rome had the middle box on the second tier, which was counted the best, and the ambassadors of France and Spain were on each side of him, the other ambassadors following. These and the governor were alone permitted to have lights in their boxes, and for the first four nights the latter used to send ices and biscuits round to all the boxes of the three lower tiers—there were, in all, six tiers—beginning with the corps diplomatique.
We frequently accompanied Madame du Puy-Montbrun, and the society in our box usually consisted of the old Prince of Palestrine, the Abbé de Bernis, and the Chevalier du Theil, “un savant très caustique,” whom the Court of France had sent to examine certain manuscripts in the Vatican, and who lived at Cardinal de Bernis’. We had also occasional visitors from the corps diplomatique. Madame du Puy-Montbrun was correct and serious, handsome, sensible, and only thirty-six. I was very young and very animated, but vainly would any of the gay prelates or young travellers have endeavoured to effect a comfortable entrée. Madame du P. was reserved, and the old prince and the chevalier were immovable, and the only prelate who was not old but very agreeable, was Monsignor la Somaglia, belonging to a noble family of Parma. He was a man of elegant learning and manners, but by the gay was accused of too much devotion.
I shall here insert a few anecdotes and bons mots which I collected during our lengthened residence in Rome.