Signor Michel Angelo Cambiaso, who was long a prelate in Rome, said that in that city two things are eternal—the women and the friendships.
A few years since a Russian lady of high rank—who had escaped from her own country, either on account of her being acquainted with some circumstances relative to the death of the late Emperor (Peter III.), or because she had some right to the crown by inheritance—stayed a few months in Italy, and the Grand-Duke of Tuscany told her he would answer for her safety so long as she remained at Florence, but that he would not advise her to trust to any Russian. Count Orloff, however, became intimately acquainted with her, and paid great court to her, till at last he persuaded her to partake of an entertainment on board the Russian fleet, at that time anchored off Leghorn. Notwithstanding the advice of many persons, she went on board, and has never since been heard of. It is supposed that she was thrown into the sea. Count Orloff despatched a messenger to his imperial accomplice as soon as he had secured his prisoner.[[128]]
When Lord Bruce and Mr. Brand were at Paris, arms and liveries had been abolished about three weeks. The people came and stared at the coronet on Lord Bruce’s carriage, and at the motto, “Fuimus.” Luckily, said Mr. B., none of the Dames de la Halle understood Latin. The populace looked at the Ambassadress’s footmen in livery as the most extraordinary sight in the world, though so short a time had elapsed since they had been accustomed to see everybody’s servants dressed after that fashion.
Mr. B. going to make a visit at Cambridge to Prince William, son of the Duke of Gloucester, saw a fiddle on the table, and, taking it up, asked the tutor if his Royal Highness played. “Not much,” said the other; “only God save his uncle, and such little things.”
Signor Stefano Lassagna said the war of ’46 spoiled all the etiquette of Genoese society. Formerly the gentlemen behaved much more politely to the ladies, and he himself remembered the time when Prince Doria walked beside the chair of Madame Morando with his hat off, in a great fall of snow, though he had his own chair following behind.