July 14, 1900. While we sat at dinner a messenger from the Casa Reale was announced. We had a guest dining with us. J. went out and stayed for some time. He came back with a letter in his hand from the Marchesa Villamarina, who wrote “in the name of her august Majesty” asking him to accept the accompanying jewel for his wife in memory of her visit to the studio. He handed me a box wrapped in soft white paper, saying, “I fancy this is for you.”
I opened it and found a medallion of blue enamel with M, the Queen’s initial, set in diamonds on one side, on the reverse the royal coat of arms, the whole encircled with diamonds and set swinging from a bar pin of platinum and brilliants. A very beautiful jewel.
July 27, 1900. A vast American pilgrimage is now in possession of the city. The pilgrims brought a great sum of money as their present to the Pope. They drive about the city all day in cabs and landaus, four and five inside and a female on the box beside the coachman. The Romans stare; such a sight as a woman on the box they never saw. Seeing the American Roman Catholics in such large numbers one recognizes a composite type, very unlike the typical clean-cut New Englander.
On the 29th of July the King of Italy was assassinated by an anarchist at Monza.
Rome, August 2, 1900. The King is dead, long live the King! The little new King, Victor Emmanuel III, has made so far a favorable impression by the deep feeling he has shown. He got the news of his father’s murder on his yacht, cruising with his young wife, the Montenegrin Princess, in southern waters below Brindisi, and hurried directly to Monza in Piedmont. Both the young people are reported as having cried themselves sick. The King refused to see all officials and ministers and rushed through Naples and Rome on his special train. At Naples, when he heard that Crispi was waiting in the station, he sent for him. The old man, very feeble, was brought into the carriage and the two sobbed together. A letter was handed him from the Queen directed simply “A mio figlio”; I suppose she could not so soon give him his new title. She sent word to the lady to whom poor Umberto had been attached for many years that she might come and see the body at Monza. The bearing and behavior of the Romans is admirable. I had looked for excess and hysteria. The contrary has prevailed. The people are deeply moved; there is a sombre hush everywhere, a decent, reserved mourning, more what one would expect in England than Italy. Great indignation is felt about the impunity with which two Italian newspapers, published in Paterson, New Jersey, where the murderer had lived, have advocated the murder of all rulers, especially the King of Italy. Surely such sheets should not be allowed and the authorities should have knowledge of what is printed in the papers, whether in Italian, Yiddish or English. Nothing yet announced of the funeral ceremonies or for the installation of the new king. I shall see all I can of these events. Strange, I saw the great Victor Emmanuel alive, I saw him dead and lying in state in the capella ardente, at the Quirinal; I saw Umberto when the troops took the oath of allegiance twenty-two years ago, and now I shall probably see him dead and his son take the oath to support the Constitution. The anarchist programme does seem to be having a measure of success. It looks as if the plan to make the thrones of Europe so hot that no royalty will sit upon them was succeeding.
Both the Prefect of Monza and his own court entourage had objected to Umberto’s going to the festa at Monza, where he was killed, as there was a general sense of uneasiness, but he was one of those mortals who seem to be absolutely without fear, as brave a man as ever lived. Courage, honesty, simplicity were his chief characteristics. Whenever there was a serious fire, a bad accident, a public disaster of any sort, he was sure to be on the spot among the first. The Chief of Police told me that once,
QUEEN MARGHERITA OF ITALY
when there was a terrible fire, he found the King among the vigiles (firemen), giving orders and helping generally in a most dangerous place, where a wall was on the point of crumbling that might have fallen and crushed him. The Capo remonstrated with the King and begged him to go away. The King refused; he liked the active stir and rush and being able to do something besides planning and thinking, which were not in his line. Then the Capo said: