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.”
[1783.]
One day in April, 1783, a Frenchman, who had subsisted on charity, died in his thirty-third year, and was carried to the Madonna de’ Monte to be buried. His corpse was exposed there for several days before interment, and many miracles are told and believed as having been performed by him both before and after his death. His limbs were flexible, and he appeared asleep. Some say they smelt a perfume; others, a stink; others, again, nothing whatever. As they were lowering the body into the grave it nearly fell, when it put out one hand and supported itself on the bier, and this more than once—as the story runs. A dumb person recovered his speech, a lame person the use of his limbs, &c. The Abbé Marotti says that he has dined with a gentleman who was cured of a toothache by the touch of a rosary that had been near the body; that the young Duke de Rignano was so frightened at hearing the dumb man speak, that he ran out of the church; and much more nonsense to the same effect. It is certain that the church has since been constantly crowded with people, and amongst them some persons of distinction, in whose presence a vein was opened, but no blood appeared. The man used to spend his whole time in praying, and was so dirty that millions of vermin crawled about him, none of which he would suffer to be killed, saying they had as much right to live as himself. There was found upon him a certificate from La Trappe, saying that he had been there, but that the discipline was so severe he had been obliged to quit it—adding, that his sanctity was so exemplary he would edify any place he went to. The stories told of him, such as his predicting the hour of his death, the cure of the butcher’s wife in whose house he died, &c., are too tedious and ridiculous to repeat.
Prince Altieri, who is blind, has been twice to the Madonna de’ Monti, in the hope that the supposed saint would restore his sight, but without effect. He has promised, that if this miracle be wrought in his favour, he will immediately erect a chapel to the saint.