CHAPTER XI.

ANECDOTES—TALLEYRAND—CHARLES ALBERT—Masséna—FERDINAND OF SPAIN—LORD

WELLESLEY—ALFIERI—CHARLES X.—DEATH OF MISS KNIGHT.

[IN July, 1834, Miss Knight again crossed the Channel, and renewed her

acquaintance with many of her old friends in Paris, which she left for

Nice in the last week in October. Here she remained until the latter

part of July, 1835, when she proceeded to Turin. Some of the anecdotes

recorded in her journal, during this period of her life, though not all

new, are worth preserving.]

The young King of Naples [the late monarch], while reviewing his cavalry

the other day (September, 1834), was displeased at the manner in which

they performed their manœuvres, and, to punish them, led them to the

bank of a river, into which he plunged, swam his horse across, and made

them do the same, to their great astonishment.

A man, who squints very much, was talking to M. de Talleyrand about

public affairs, and wound up by saying: “Enfin, Prince, tout va de

travers.” To which the other replied: “Oui, monsieur, comme vous voyez.”

It is said that in a late debate which terminated in the resignation of

several of the Ministers, Lord Stanley handed over to Sir James Graham a

scrap of paper, on which he had written with a pencil: “Johnny will

upset the coach”—meaning, of course, Lord John Russell.

Some one having remarked to Talleyrand, when he was living on his estate

in banishment from the Court during the later years of Bonaparte’s

reign, that he must find the life he led “bien monotone,” the Prince

replied: “Monsieur, le monotone fut le berceau de la vie.”

Sir Edward Sugden, a celebrated lawyer who has lately come into

Parliament, having heard that he had been turned into ridicule for being

the son of a hairdresser, made answer: “So I am, and I am come into the

House to give a dressing to the Whigs.”

Sir Walter Scott told Mr. Howard, of Corby, that the only verses David

Hume ever wrote were made at an inn in that neighbourhood. They were as

follows:

Chickens in eggs at breakfast sprawl;

Godless boys God’s glory squall;

Scotchmen’s heads adorn the wall;

Corby’s walks atone for all.

These lines were probably written soon after the affair of ’45, and I

suppose the “Scotchmen’s heads” were exposed on the walls of Carlisle.

Mr. Howard was one day at a great dinner party which the late Duke of

Norfolk gave to several of his neighbours. He sat at the bottom of the

table, the Duke being at the head, and one of the gentlemen who sat near

the Duke called out to him and said: “Mr. Howard, will you drink a glass

of wine with me? There was a connexion between our families.” “With a

great deal of pleasure, sir,” replied Mr. H., “though I don’t know

exactly what the connexion is; but in this county there have been

several marriages between neighbours.” “Why, sir,” resumed the

gentleman, “your ancestor, Lord William Howard, hung up twenty-three out

of twenty-seven of my family, and you must own that was _a tie_.” This

reminded me of an anecdote I heard at Brighton. General Dalrymple, who

was between ninety and a hundred years of age, was introduced by the

King to Lord Errol as an old friend. “Ah! my Lord,” said the General,

“the last of your family I have seen was Lord Kilmarnock’s head on

Temple-bar.”

An English lady at Paris, who was obliged to have an arm taken off, six

months afterwards married the surgeon who performed the operation. On

which a French gentleman remarked “Elle lui a donné la main pour lui

avoir coupé le bras.”

The King of Sardinia (Charles Albert) is very kind and obliging to the

French Royalists who are at Turin. The Duke de F——, with whom he is

connected, has an employment about the Court—he had been severely

wounded, and lost a leg in the affair of the Three Days. The King heard

that the Duke was anxious to visit the King and Royal Family at Prague,

but that his finances were not favourable to so long a journey. His

Majesty, therefore, thought of an expedient which would enable the Duke

to gratify his loyalty, without his feelings being wounded. “Duke,” he

said, “would you do me the favour to choose some horses for me (at such

a place) in Bohemia; and as your best way will be through Prague, of

course you will pay your respects to the Royal Family there.” As the

journey was on the King’s service, the Duke could feel no reluctance

about having his expenses paid.

The Countess de B. told me the other day that her mother was once

remarking to Cardinal Costa, a very clever man, that she could not help

feeling indignant at the conduct of certain Ministers as being without

good faith or probity. “Ah, ma chère dame,” he replied, “quand il s’agit

de la politique, il faut se rappeler que ce ne sont pas des gens

baptisés.”

Masséna was a native of the county of Nice; when he was here after the

Restoration he told a story of what happened to him once when he had the

command of the French army in Spain. Early in the morning of an expected

battle he walked through the camp, disguised by a soldier’s cloak, that

he might judge of the disposition of his men. He heard three of them

talking together about the forthcoming engagement. One said: “Ah! I hope

I shall get a pair or two of stockings, for mine are worn out.” Another

wished for the acquisition of a couple of shirts, as his own were in

rags. Turning to the third, they said: “And what do you want? You say

nothing.” The young man answered: “What do I care about stockings and

shirts? I want to do something that will get me the cross of the Legion

of Honour, and then I may rise like our general to be an officer and a

marshal of France, for he began like myself as a ‘pauvre gredin.’”

Many stories are told respecting the death of Ferdinand (of Spain) and

his will. Some say that he had signed a codicil revoking his disposal of

the crown, and restoring Don Carlos to his rights; but that the Queen,

on her return from hunting, finding him dead, and having been told of

the codicil, sought for it in his secrétaire and in the drawers of a

table where he kept papers. Being unable to find the secret place in

which it was deposited, she ordered the two pieces of furniture to be

burned. Others go still further, and pretend that, had she been brought

to bed of a son, Ferdinand would have lived _a little longer_, &c. &c.

It must, however, be remembered, that where great personages are

concerned, and party spirit prevails, there are many inventions. The

character of Don Carlos is certainly that of an honest man, even by the

account of his enemies. I recollect hearing the late Duke of Gloucester

say that Mina told him that, although he was not himself of the party of

Don Carlos, he believed him to be the honestest man of the family.

I forget who told me the following anecdote of the Marquis of Wellesley,

when Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. He was at table with a party of Irish

gentlemen who were chiefly Orangemen, and in the dining-room hung a

painting of the battle of the Boyne, which in that country is usually

called the Victory of Boyne Waters. The company wishing him to pronounce

an opinion, invited him to change his seat. “Surely, my Lord,” said one,

“you would not turn your back on Boyne Waters?” Lord Wellesley answered,

pointing to a bottle of claret that stood before him: “Oh, I never look

at water when I can get wine.”

Count Alfieri, one morning, as he was sitting with the Countess of

Albany, was informed that Napoleon had just issued orders for several

children of the first families of Florence, as of other great cities of

Italy, to be sent to Paris to serve as his pages, and afterwards enter

the army. One asked, “What could be done?” Another, “How could it be

avoided?” A third remarked, “If they go, their principles will be

perverted, and they will be estranged from their country; and if they

are not sent, their parents will be persecuted, ruined, imprisoned. What

_is_ to be done with them?” Alfieri suddenly exclaimed, with great

energy, “Ammazzarli!”[113]

[At Turin Miss Knight remained throughout the entire year 1836, the

political events of which she sums up in a few lines. “This year,” she

writes, “has been fruitful in events. Spain and Portugal in commotion,

and now three parties in the former. In France an attempt to assassinate

Louis Philippe; and young Louis Napoleon Bonaparte arrested at

Strasburg, for his mad attempt to gain the throne—a plot supposed to

have an extensive ramification. Death of Charles X., at Goritz. Loss of

the French at Constantine. Great political disputes in England, and

violent party spirit. A dreadful hurricane felt there, in Holland, and

some other countries. Great inundations in France.” There are several

miscellaneous anecdotes, however, recorded in her journal, which are not

without interest.]

At a ball given by Count M., at Vienna, the French Ambassador, M. de St.

Aulaire, expressed to the Countess his great admiration of a coronet of

diamonds she had on her head. “Ah! quelle belle couronne, Madame la

Comtesse!” “Au moins,” she replied, “elle n’est pas volée.”

It has been remarked that during the long series of Princes of the House

of Savoy, neither assassinations, nor family quarrels of any political

consequence, nor acts of unjust usurpation, have stained the annals of

their history; an observation that could not be justly applied to any

other royal family now possessed of European thrones, or to any other

list of European sovereigns. The far greater number of these Princes of

Savoy have been good monarchs, and many of them distinguished for their

bravery and military talent.

It is said that Tasso conceived his beautiful idea of the Garden of

Armida from the views in the neighbourhood of Turin, and particularly

from the spot where stands the “vigna,” or villa, of Sir Augustus

Foster. The garden which is said to have inspired him with the original

conception is supposed to have been what is now called the Old Park.

Tasso was on a visit to the Duke of Savoy.

A celebrated surgeon, named Livois, who was in the French army, took

compassion on a dog whose leg had been fractured by a shot during the

siege of some place or another. He set the bones, and cured him. Some

time afterwards he found waiting at his door the same dog, with a

companion who had a broken leg, and whom he evidently wished to

introduce to him. The surgeon cured this second dog also, and mentioned

the circumstance to the Countess du C., who repeated it to me.

Charles X., who expired at Goritz, in Styria, in the night between the

5th and 6th of November, 1836, had entered upon the eightieth year of

his age in the preceding month. He was active and cheerful to the moment

at which he was seized by the fatal malady which closed his mortal

existence in less than thirty hours. During this time he suffered

greatly, but died tranquil and resigned, forgiving his enemies, those

who had injured him, and those who had been misled. He had visited the

Princess of B. and his nephews, the sons of Don Carlos, on his way to

Goritz, where he was about to establish himself with his family. The 4th

of November, St. Charles’s day and his own fête, he had celebrated with

a few friends, and he had been received with great cordiality by the

inhabitants of Goritz.

It has always appeared to me that Charles X. was the true model of a

gentleman. He was agreeable, unaffected, and amiable in the best sense

of the word, and an affectionate and faithful friend. His look came from

the heart, and what he said, however gratifying, could not be suspected

of flattery. If in his youth he was gay, his conduct in mature age was

respectable, without prejudice or ostentation. His piety was sincere and

fervent; and, without presumption, I think we may venture to say that he

has made a blessed exchange. The Duchess of Hamilton told me that he

said to her at Holyrood, speaking of the Revolution of 1830: “I meant

well; therefore I lay my head down peaceably to rest.”

A banker having observed that one of the ladies whom we call

“exclusives” always bowed most graciously to him when she took money at

his bank, but did not return his bow when he passed her in the street,

one day, when he met her, took out a gold piece of twenty francs, and

presenting it to her, said: “C’est un peu cher, mais je serais bien aise

d’avoir un bon salut.”

In the island of Sardinia there are many persons who live in the

mountains, chiefly in the open air, for they have no habitations, but

sometimes seek refuge in caves. They are remarkably brave, active, and

revengeful, bearing animosity against those with whom they are at

variance from father to son. They are called banditti, and are

punishable by the laws of the Piedmontese Government when they can be

caught, but they do not attack travellers, nor commit any robberies.

Some of them, it seems, lived not very far from the castle of the

Marquis de B., and between eight and nine one evening, while he was at

table, his butler whispered to him that one of their chiefs, whose name

he knew, wished to speak to him. He ordered him to be shown into his own

room, and then went to him. He was a man between forty and fifty years

of age, but his hair, including a long beard, was already quite grey. He

was armed with pistols, dagger, and musket, and had with him a dog, as

had also each of his companions. These were four in number, and one of

them, a young man of twenty-one, remarkably handsome. The chief pressed

the hand of the Marquis, and said that he trusted to his honour, and was

sure he would not betray him, but that he wished to ask him to obtain,

if possible, their pardon. The Marquis could not promise this, but

assured him he should not be betrayed. “If he were,” cried one of his

companions, “we would defend him to the last, and even die with him.”

The Marquis gave orders to his butler to invite them to supper, which

they readily accepted. They sat down, each with his dog by his side,

but, before they would touch anything, the chief said to the butler, “I

must beg you to begin; not that I expect any treachery here, but some of

our companions were poisoned at a supper. Pray excuse me.” The butler

complied; and when they had finished their meal they retired, with many

thanks. At a short distance from the castle a large party of this tribe

were posted on a slight eminence to protect their friends. When the

Marquis left the castle he saw them there, and they cried out to him,

“Buon viaggio!” This happened in June, 1836.

The Sardinian gentlemen and ladies speak Italian, but they have also a

dialect which, of course, is that of the common people: it is said to be

a mixture of Spanish and Arabic. In their persons they mostly resemble

the Spaniards. The country is picturesque, but roads and inns are still

wanting. It appears to be the intention of the Piedmontese Government to

render Sardinia similar to the States of Italy, but it will require much

time to ascertain the inclinations of all classes for the new mode of

existence.

* * * * *

[On the 14th of June, 1837, Miss Knight took leave of her numerous

friends in Turin, and set out for Paris, where she arrived on the

22nd—“longæ finis chartæque viæque.” Her wanderings and her journals

were alike approaching their termination. The last entry in her Diary

was made on the 4th of December, and refers merely to the visits she

made that day. Two days afterwards she was taken ill, and on the 17th of

December, 1837, she closed her long and well-regulated life, in the 81st

year of her age.]

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EXTRACTS FROM MISS KNIGHT’S JOURNAL.

[The following passages are extracted from Miss Knight’s Diaries. They

illustrate the Autobiographical Memoir in the first volume. The

narrative would have been impeded by their insertion there; but they are

of sufficient interest to form a welcome addition to the more continuous

story of Miss Knight’s life.]

ROME—1781.

December 30.—At eight in the morning we went to the church of St. Louis

to see the consecration of Monseigneur l’Abbé de Bernis as Bishop of

Apollonia. A little before nine the Cardinal, the Abbé, and Monsignore

de Bayane arrived, the organ playing as they entered, and soon after

they went to the door to receive the Pope, whom they followed into the

church, the organ playing, and the choir singing “Ecce Sacerdos Magnus.”

The Pope, the Cardinal, and the new Bishop then went and prayed at the

altar in the chapel of St. Louis; after which they walked up into the

choir, where the Pope again prayed at the great altar. The Bishop was

then presented to him and kissed his feet, and the Pope embraced him.

The Cardinal de Bernis stood beside a small altar prepared for the

Bishop on his left hand, and by his side were Monsignori Onesti, Doria,

Stacy, Bayane, and other prelates, who now proceeded to dress the Pope.

Cardinal de Bernis brought him the napkin to wipe his hands, and took it

again from him. In the mean while the two assisting Bishops (the

Archbishop of Athens, the Pope’s almoner, and the Bishop of Carpentras)

had the new Bishop dressed, whose robes were very fine, white and gold,

with white buskins, having a cross embroidered on them, &c. &c. He was

then again presented to the Pope, and seated in a chair opposite to his

Holiness, who read to him the Articles of Faith and the duties of a

Bishop. After every interrogative, he had to answer and make a

genuflexion. After this, the Pope anointed his hands and the tonsure at

the top of his head, for which purpose a bandage was tied round his

head, and another over his hands fastened round the neck—he himself

kneeling all the time. The Pope afterwards put the cross on him, the

mantle, and the ring (a very beautiful one); when he prostrated himself

before the great altar and made his profession of faith and his vows as

a Bishop. He then rose, and the Pope gave him his benediction, put a

gold mitre on his head, and, placing the crosier in his hand, seated him

in his own chair before the great altar, himself standing beside him,

and the Bishops, who never quitted him, standing on the other side.

Those wore mitres of white cloth, which alone are permitted to be worn

in the Pope’s presence except by a new Bishop. Monseigneur de Bernis now

rose, made a reverence to the Pope, and asked permission to give his

benediction, which his Holiness granted, telling him only to go on the

other side, that it might not fall upon him (the Pope). He then came

down the church, giving the benediction, with his Bishops on each hand,

and returned again to his chair at the great altar, the canons of the

church singing the “Te Deum.” The Pope next gave him the Kiss of Peace,

which went round to the two other Bishops; after which he was seated

opposite the Pope, who delivered a discourse (called a homily)

thirty-five minutes in length. In this he made compliments to the

Cardinal de Bernis and the Bishop, who both rose and bowed in

acknowledgment. He also gave a geographical description of Apollonia,

and said it was probably so called from there having been a temple there

dedicated to Apollo. He remarked how lamentable it was that it should be

in the hands of infidels, but he did not intend to send the Bishop

there, but only to Alby, which he must consider as another Apollonia.

When he named St. Peter and St. Paul, he beat his breast, and sighed

most vehemently. As soon as he had finished, the Cardinal went up and

thanked him, and the Bishop did the same, adding that he hoped to acquit

himself of his duty in the manner he desired. The Pope replied that he

had no doubt about it; gave a general benediction, and went to a chapel,

where he said another mass. In the mean time all the prelates, &c.,

congratulated the Cardinal and Monseigneur, after which his Eminence

embraced his nephew in the most affectionate manner. The Pope having now

finished his mass, the Cardinal accompanied him out, and shut the door

of his carriage, while the Bishops, &c., kneeled down, and the ceremony

thus terminated.

In one of the tribunes over the choir were three Cardinals, and in the

opposite one the Pope’s niece and the foreign Ministers. The organ

gallery was allotted for the French, English, and other strangers, but

it was too far removed for them to see much. Most of the French and

English gentlemen stood beside the balustrade of the choir, and we were

in a grated tribune erected for the purpose, with the Princess

Rezzonico, the Duchess of Lanti, Marchesa Castiglioni, a Milanese, and

other ladies. The Pope ranted like a country comedian in the part of

_Othello_. Cardinal de Bernis acted his part with his usual dignity,

sense, and goodness, and Monseigneur de Bernis went through his

fatiguing office with the decency of a good Christian and the propriety

of a man of fashion, without affectation, negligence, or

bigotry—extremes which appear to me very difficult to avoid in the midst

of such a mockery of religion. The Maggiordomo, at the Pope’s expense,

gave a grand dinner on the occasion, to which he invited the Cardinals

of the palace, the Senator, the Ministers connected with France, and the

principal Roman Princes, to meet the Cardinal and Monseigneur. The

latter presented twelve crowns for a dinner to the Canons of St. Louis,

three sequins each to the under people of the church, a crown to the

sweepers, and half-a-crown to the domestics, besides five sous each to

all the poor who were present.

ROME—1782.

On the morning of the 6th of January, Monseigneur de Bernis went to St.

Peter’s, where he stood amongst the other Bishops till the Pope called

him to the foot of the throne. This ceremony is styled making the

“Vescovi assistenti al Soglio,” who are always seated on the steps of

the Pope’s throne, and assist him on public occasions. This honour

entitles Monseigneur to the privilege of making three Prothonotaries and

eight Knights of the Golden Spurs. He intends to give one of these

golden spurs to Belcour, his valet-de-chambre, and the others to some of

the Cardinal’s people. Cournau, his Eminence’s maître d’hôtel, already

possesses this distinction. Monseigneur de Bernis is likewise entitled,

in virtue of this dignity, to send every morning to the palace for his

bread and his wine, which he gives to his valet-de-chambre. The bulls

for this ceremony cost him 150 crowns.

* * * * *

The Grand-Duke Paul and his Duchess arrived at Rome under the names of

Count and Countess of the North, and with them one of her brothers, a

Prince of Würtemberg. Madame de Beckersdorff and two maids of honour

were also with them, and the first seemed to be her intimate friend, and

a very pleasing person. The Grand-Duke, though not tall, had a good

figure, but his face was Calmuck. His manners were good, and he talked

agreeably to those who were introduced to him. The Grand-Duchess was,

like most of her family, very handsome. She was tall, her figure

majestic, and her features and complexion very fine. Her manners were

dignified and gracious. We were introduced to them at a concert given by

the Cardinal de Bernis for the birth of the Dauphin. Princess D.,[114]

who had been staying some time at Rome with her son and married

daughter, came to the fête dressed in black. She was considered by the

Grand-Duke and Duchess as a spy on their proceedings; and, at all

events, the part which she was supposed to have taken in the

imprisonment and death of the Grand-Duke’s father must have rendered the

sight of her very painful to them. Unmindful of this, she seated herself

at the concert as near as possible to the Grand-Duke, just behind him to

the right. He was greatly annoyed, and, turning towards her, said:

“Madame, on ne vient pas habillé en noir à la fête d’un souverain.”

Princess D. gave as an excuse the assurance that, as she was about to

leave Rome, all her other dresses were packed up. The Grand-Duke

replied: “On peut toujours rester à la maison.”

The Princess was a short, fat, middle-aged woman, with a very red face

and harsh countenance; and the broad red riband and star, which she wore

in the way such decorations are worn by men, added to her formidable

appearance. It is said she was only eighteen years of age when the death

of the Emperor Peter took place, and that, seated at a table with two

pistols before her, she waited for the news with the intention, if it

proved contrary to her wishes, of killing the messenger with one and

herself with the other.[115] Pistols, we were told, she always carried

about with her; and, notwithstanding the services she had rendered to

the Empress Catherine, and the strange masculine honours conferred upon

her in return—such as this decoration, and her being made President of

the Academy of Sciences—it is evident that her absence was more

agreeable to her Imperial mistress than her presence would be, for she

was many years in England, Scotland, and Italy. She would not allow her

daughter to live with her husband, and she used to lock up her son, who

must have been turned of twenty, every night. How unlike to her amiable

and excellent brother. It is said that she had a sister who was

gentleness itself. One would wish to think that Princess Dashkoff was in

some measure misrepresented. I recollect saying something to her son,

with whom I was a little acquainted, about the maids of honour attending

on the Grand-Duchess, and I naturally expressed myself in the terms,

“the ladies of the Grand-Duchess.” The young man, who just before had

been talking to me with the civility usually shown to a young woman,

suddenly reddened, and looked quite savage. “Madame,” said he, “the

Grand-Duchess has no ladies; she has no right to have any. They are the

ladies of our august sovereign, who allows them to attend upon the

Grand-Duchess in her travels.” Does not this put one in mind of a remark

made by Bonaparte: “Pour peu qu’on y gratte on trouve le Tartare?”

We paid our respects to the Grand-Duke and Duchess, as did all the

company at Rome, at their own apartments. They seemed much pleased with

all they saw, and with the society. After Princess D. left, they were

perfectly at their ease. There was at that time no Russian Ambassador,

or Minister, at Rome. I afterwards heard that they were not so

comfortable at Naples.

A tailor at Rome made a coat for the Grand-Duke. When he brought it home

the sleeves were found to be too long. “I suppose,” said the Prince,

“you have heard that kings have long arms; but mine as yet are only

rags.” He and the Grand-Duchess appeared to be very domestic, and liked

to talk of their children. I remember the Grand-Duchess showing us

portraits of some of them _en silhouette_. Her dress was very

magnificent at Cardinal de Bernis’ fête. It was white, trimmed with the

most valuable sables, over which hung large pearls in garlands, fastened

with diamond knots of great size and splendour.

* * * * *

On the 1st of March we went to Cardinal de Bernis’. On account of the

fêtes given by him in honour of the birth of the Dauphin, torches and

guards were placed at the corners of all the streets leading to his

house. The front and both sides of his palace were illuminated with four

immense wax-lights in each window, which made a most brilliant

appearance. All the carriages went in by the back way, none being

permitted to pass in front of the palace, as opposite to it and before

the church of St. Marcel an elegant amphitheatre had been erected for

music, for the amusement of the populace; the decorations were very

pleasing, and had a delightful effect from the windows. The rooms were

all decorated in a festal manner, with a great deal of gilding and many

looking-glasses; the gallery with trophies on a gold ground, and the

ceiling with fleurs-de-lys and dolphins. At the end of the gallery,

within the columns, was an amphitheatre for the musicians, who were all

in uniform. An infinite number of lights, perfectly well arranged, were

scattered about, and two rows of seats were placed round both rooms for

the company. As we were going up-stairs we met the cardinal, attended by

his gentlemen, servants, &c., with eight torches and eight candles,

going to receive the Grand-Duke and Duchess, for whom chairs had been

placed across the gallery between the columns. The Princess of

Palestrine, who did the honours of the Cardinal’s house, seated herself

beside them for a short time, but after a while gave her place to the

Pope’s niece. The Cardinal stood behind the Grand-Duchess, as also did

Monseigneur de Bernis. The Prince of Würtemberg would not sit down, but

stood beside the Cardinal. The lady who accompanies the Grand-Duchess,

with the two maids of honour, were placed near, but there was an immense

crowd. Immediately afterwards began the cantata, which lasted an hour.

The poetry of it—in honour of the Dauphin—was composed by a secretary of

the Pope’s nephew, and the music by a Maestro di Capella of the Pope.

The Grand-Duke and Duchess were very attentive, and after refreshments

had been offered to them, which they declined, they went and sat down in

the next room, whither most of the company followed them. Soon after we

were seated the Cardinal brought the Grand-Duke up to us, and presented

us in the most affectionate manner. He then presented the Duchess

Bobadilla and another lady who sat beside us, but the Grand-Duke

immediately returned to us and entered into conversation, until he was

called off by two letters being brought to him by express. He talked to

us in the most polite and attentive manner, and expressed a desire for

us to visit Russia. Upon our mentioning that we were acquainted with

Admiral Knowles, he inquired with great affection after Miss Knowles and

Sir Charles, and said he had much regretted the Admiral’s departure.

When we told him that the son was a captain in the navy, he remarked

that the post of captain in the English navy was a most respectable

rank, with many other things that showed equally his sense and

good-breeding. He speaks French perfectly well. They went away soon

afterwards, when we returned into the gallery and heard some very good

music, and did not get home till past twelve. On the following night

there was, if possible, more company than on the previous one, and

everything still more in gala. The Grand-Duke and Duchess came early,

and were placed as before, only they made the Princess of Palestrine sit

between them, and, when she went into the next room, the Cardinal de

Bernis. They were exceedingly pleased, and made themselves very

agreeable. The cantata was written by the same author as the other, but

the music was by Cimarosa, and infinitely finer. They stayed to hear two

other pieces of music, and then passed into the other room, where they

remained till near ten. The Grand-Duchess was elegantly dressed, and

looked exceedingly well: the Grand-Duke wore a plain coat with superb

diamond buttons. I sat by the lady who accompanies the Duchess, and

found her very agreeable: she is a German. The music lasted till after

eleven, and was very fine. The palace and the street in front of it,

with the orchestra opposite, were as light as day. The Academy of France

was also lighted up, and had an orchestra in the same manner. On the

Sunday before, all the money sent by the King of France to pay for this

fête was given away by the Cardinal in doweries—fifty crowns each to one

hundred and fifty brides in Rome, and twenty-five crowns each to two

hundred at Albano. The Bishop of Apollonia administered the Sacrament,

and handed the orders to them to receive the money at once, instead of

waiting till they were married, as is usually the case. At a little

after six on the next day we went to pay our respects to the Grand-Duke

and Duchess, and found there the Princess Doria, the Princess Santa

Croce, and another lady, with the German lady, the friend of the

Duchess. The Cardinal de Bernis and several other gentlemen were also

there. We went immediately into the next room, where the Grand-Duchess

received us at the door, the Grand-Duke standing behind her. She told my

mother that she had saluted her the night before, and had curtseyed

twice, adding, very politely, that as her husband had made our

acquaintance, she also much wished to do so. She then had chairs placed

round, and desired us all to be seated. She chatted much about Rome, and

told Cardinal de Bernis that she would never leave it were it not for

her children. The Grand-Duke came and talked to us for some time with

the greatest good-humour and affability. The Duchess was very desirous

that the gentlemen likewise should sit down, and told a gentleman who

accompanies them, and whom she calls “Mon Général,” to set them the

example. When we took our leave, she assured my mother that she should

be always very happy to see us; that her husband was so pleased with

making our acquaintance, that she was likewise very anxious for it, &c.

&c. In short, nothing could be more flattering and attentive than their

reception of us. They appear very much attached to one another.[116] The

Duchess’s figure is certainly very fine, and improves upon one, while

the Grand-Duke is so genteel and pleasing in his manners, that his

person seems to me at present far from disagreeable.

On the 14th we went to take leave of the Count and Countess of the

North. They received us with the greatest goodness. The Count told me he

regretted infinitely that we had not met oftener; that our visit then,

though it made him happy, was rather a pain than a pleasure; that it was

not their fault they had not seen us every day, but as there were so

many things to see they usually returned home too late to receive

company, and could not make an exception to a general rule, or they

would have received us at any time; that he had inquired whether we were

at the concert at Princess Doria’s, and would have come to us, but the

devil of etiquette prevented him. He pressed exceedingly that we should

go to St. Petersburg, saying his house and the whole city should be at

our disposal. I then ventured to say that, if we were not so happy as to

travel so far, my mother hoped that the Count and Countess of the North

would permit us to take the liberty of requesting their interest with

the Grand-Duke and Duchess for any of our English sea officers who, if

there was a peace in our distracted country, might be ambitious of

serving in Russia. He replied that they had some credit with those

personages, and nothing would make him happier than to be of service to

us, or to any of our friends; that my mother and I had only to write to

him and mention how far they were in our esteem, and he would treat them

accordingly, as he was sure my mother knew the Navy too well, and was

too nice to recommend any who were not deserving. “Believe me,” he

added, “_upon my honour_ I wish nothing more than to be useful to you. I

beg you will be assured of my sincerity, and I hope you will soon put it

to the proof. But if it should be ten or twenty years’ hence, you may be

equally sure of it, for I could not forget you even if I were inclined

to do so; and I am certain that if I were not in the world, the Countess

would do the same. I think power is never so agreeable as when it can

make one useful to one’s friends, and, as such, I desire you will ever

consider us.” He repeatedly urged us to go to St. Petersburg; and upon

my remarking how difficult it was to travel in time of war, he said, war

had nothing to do with our going there, because even if there was a war

in Russia, it could not be one disagreeable to us. He added, that when

he was master of himself there was nothing he would not do for us, but,

as it was, he could be of some use to us in St. Petersburg. The Countess

was also excessively kind to us, and pressed us strongly to go to

Russia, and, indeed, said the most obliging and flattering things. She

bade me draw everything at Rome as fast as possible, and meet them at

St. Petersburg—with many more of the kindest expressions. She said it

gave her great pain to go away just as she was beginning to make

acquaintances, and that she should have wished to have cultivated a

friendship with Cardinal de Bernis and with us; that she had but small

hopes of meeting him again, but would always retain a regard for him. As

for us, she said she would not give up the idea of again seeing us, and

that she should quit us with tears in her eyes, adding the most

affectionate expressions of kindness. The persons who accompany the

Count and Countess are all perfectly well chosen. The maids of honour

are both well behaved and good natured, and the General’s lady is very

amiable.

* * * * *

The Pope mentioned one night at supper that the “barcarole” that brought

him from Venice had since gained three hundred crowns, at half a

baioccho from each person, by letting people kiss the place where he was

seated, adding: “Quanto mi piace di vedere la fede di questi buoni

Veneziani!” He also said that one of his gloves having fallen from his

hand was instantly cut into a thousand pieces for relics.

* * * * *

The Pope having lately found an obelisk, has had it removed to Monte

Cavallo, where it is to be placed between the two statues. The expense

and trouble were no slight matter. The other day the following

inscription was placed on it: “Fac ut lapides isti panes fiant.”

Infinite pains were taken to discover the author and have him punished,

and on the following morning was written beneath the other: “The author

is St. Luke, chap. iv. 3.”

* * * * *

The Pope stayed two nights and a day at Cesena, and ordered his bed to

be placed in the room in which he was born. His people were so little

used to travelling, that they forgot the chocolate-cup, and, after much

searching in the town where they happened to be, they told the Pope

there was not one to be got fit for his use. “Well, then,” said he,

“give me the chocolate in a pipkin.” When the Pope wanted to change his

linen, the valise in which it was packed happened to be two hours behind

on the road. The baggage-cart broke down, and, it seems, caused the

oddest confusion ever beheld, mitres and chalices tumbling about amongst

pots and pans. It resembled the furniture of a playhouse, and a

gentleman remarked that the Pope was a good actor, and was now removing

his theatre to Vienna. He is a strolling player, then, said another.

Some one expressing a certain curiosity as to the sort of honours the

Emperor would show the Pope at Vienna, a bystander replied: “He will

probably dispense with Lent, and give his Holiness a masked ball.”

* * * * *

Princess Dashkoff being with other strangers in the gallery of the

Senate-house at Venice, where it is not permitted to open the door after

the sitting commences, insisted upon going out, exclaiming aloud, “Ces

perruques m’ennuient.” She made so much noise that the senators sent up

to desire her to be quiet, but she only repeated that “she _would_ go

out.” Upon this, one of the senators said: “Gentlemen, shall we have a

ballot to see whether this mad woman shall go out or not?” It was then

put to the vote and carried in the affirmative, and, the door being

opened, the Princess went out by herself.

* * * * *

There is a negro woman at Rome much protected by the Queen of Portugal.

She is dressed in red, and goes about with a Madonna in a box, asking

alms for founding a monastery in Portugal for negro girls under the

protection of the father and mother of St. Joachim. She went to the Pope

to ask his permission, and mentioned the saints who were to be the

patrons of her order. The Pope answered, that he had no doubt but what

the father and mother of St. Joachim were good people, but they were not

on his list.

* * * * *

A Cardinal’s cook in time of Lent having made up all his “maigre” dishes

with the gravy and fat of meat, went to confession, and, among other

sins, mentioned this one. The confessor, however, refused to give him

absolution until he promised that he would no longer make his master

violate Lent. Faithful to his promise, the cook changed his sauces,

whereupon the Cardinal complained bitterly that his dinners were not so

good as formerly, and the cook was called up, and obliged to tell his

story. The Cardinal inquired the name of his confessor, and having sent

for him, remonstrated with him for meddling with the private government

of his family. The friar replied, that the cook’s salvation was in

danger if he had continued to give his master _gras_ instead of

_maigre_. “Well,” exclaimed the Cardinal, “and do you think it

reasonable that, to save the soul of such a low fellow as that, you

should expose my Eminence to the discomfort of fasting!”[117]

* * * * *

During the time the affair of the Jesuits was in agitation, whenever

Cardinal Marefoschi went to visit Cardinal de Bernis, a valet-de-chambre

in the house of the latter, and who was also a spy, used to hang a white

handkerchief out at the top of a chimney, to mark the commencement and

termination of the visit, as a signal to the Jesuits at the Roman

College, who looked out from the top of their church for it.

* * * * *

On Wednesday morning, February 27th (1782), the Pope set out for Vienna

at half-past nine in the morning. The Grand-Duke and Duchess of Russia,

who have been every day to St. Peter’s to see him, were there between

six and seven waiting to take leave of his Holiness. They had some

conversation with him, and the Grand-Duke attended him to his carriage.

Monsignore Marcucci, Vicegerent and Patriarch of Constantinople, and

Monsignore Contesini, Archbishop of Athens, both men of very low

extraction, accompanied him, besides some inferior persons of his

household. The streets were lined with people, far beyond Ponte Molle.

Many Roman gentlemen rode on horseback before him for several miles. The

Pope threw himself almost out of the carriage in order to bestow his

benedictions upon the people, who kept crying aloud: “Santo Padre, la

benedizione prima di partire;” and others, “Buon viaggio.” It is said

that the Minister of Portugal, when he went with his lady and child to

take leave of the Pope, left upon the table a schedule for sixty

thousand crowns, by the Queen’s command. The Venetians are to send

twelve senators, among whom, it is supposed, will be the Doge, with four

hundred men, to meet him on the frontiers and accompany him through

their States. The King of Sardinia intends to wait upon his Holiness in

person. The Pope’s nephew, Don Lewis, attended him to the coach, and

held his hand for half a minute after he was in. He was in the most

violent distress, and shed tears for three or four hours. His wife was

at the Villa Papa Giulia to take leave of his Holiness, and was likewise

much affected. The Pope told her to take care of herself and go to her

husband.

* * * * *

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.

Abbé Marotti says he is perfectly well acquainted with the priest who

was his confessor at the Roman College, and who quotes two instances in

which the “servo di Dio,” as they call the dead man, divined his

thoughts. The Contestabile Colonna’s mother was carried the other day to

the Madonna de’ Monti, in the hope that the saint would cure her

madness. The church is now shut up—some say on account of the robberies,

&c., committed there; others, because they are setting up a tombstone to

the saint. The Princess Santa Croce assured us that she had never

experienced greater consolation than in contemplating his dead body, and

declared that it was many years since any such miracles have been

performed. A Bostonian has abjured Protestantism at the Santo Uffizio,

being convinced, according to his own report, by these miracles. His

instructor was an ex-Jesuit, and it is probable that the true motive for

his conversion was want of money, as he appears very shabbily dressed.

The Duchess of Gallicano has given her infant the name of Benedetto, in

honour of the new saint, whose name was Benoît Labré.

* * * * *

One of the best informed, and one of the most delightful persons in

every respect whom I ever knew, was the Père Jacquier, a Minime of the

French convent, the “Trinité du Mont.” His name was well known in

England, as he and his friend, Père le Sueur, were the best commentators

on Newton. His colleague had been dead a few years, and Père Jacquier

was himself rather advanced in life, but his faculties were perfect, and

he was as active in person as in mind. He was a native of Champagne, and

became a monk when very young, there being no regulations at that time

to prevent such early professions. He used to say that it was not by the

desire of his parents, but that it was all arranged by an elder sister.

His genius was both sound and versatile, and his acquirements very

extensive. His proficiency in every branch of mathematics scarcely

exceeded his taste for polite literature, the classical purity of his

Greek and Latin compositions, and the correctness of his critical

observations. He was also an excellent historian, and well versed in

many modern languages. He was fond of society, and his manners were not

only polished in the highest degree, but the beneficence of his

disposition, and the sensibility of his heart, rendered them so

peculiarly attractive, that he gained a new friend whenever he made a

new acquaintance. His feelings were extremely acute, and the affection

of those whom he loved and esteemed was the only treasure he was

solicitous to keep. Never was there a more charitable man. He gave away

all he had, and was, besides, ever ready to assist with his advice and

influence all who applied to him.

In his youth he had been engaged in busy scenes with Cardinal Alberoni,

and had lived with Voltaire, and Madame du Châtelet, and, indeed, with

all the wits and philosophers then in fashion. He was also employed in

the education of the Prince, afterwards Duke, of Parma. The friendship

that existed between him and Père le Sueur was extraordinary. They

agreed perfectly, because they had the same general views and the same

goodness of principle, with diametrically opposite dispositions. Le

Sueur had all the judgment, patience, and exactness necessary for the

great work they had in hand, and Jacquier all the genius, fire, and

penetration. In this social intercourse this opposition of qualities

kept them from interfering with each other’s way of life, and the loss

of such a friend as Le Sueur was never repaired to the survivor. I did

not know Père Jacquier till some years after this trying event, which, I

believe, threw him more than ever into general society. As I have

already remarked, he was then an old man, but his imagination was as

vivid, and his heart as warm, as ever.

Strangers, politicians, men of letters, men of fashion, were all alike

desirous to become acquainted with Père Jacquier. There was no pedantry,

no vanity, in his mode of conversing, but if he thought himself

neglected he was very unhappy; not offended, but like a child whom its

parents have left at home. On this account Cardinal de Bernis used to

say of him: “Le Père Jacquier a l’esprit d’un homme, et le cœur d’un

enfant.” We used to see him almost every day, and he was so good as to

take much pains with me in my studies. It so happened that an English

naval officer came to Rome with a friend for a few weeks, and my mother

was anxious that they should see everything most worthy of notice. This

often engaged us so that we were not always at home at the hours Père

Jacquier used to call. My mother found out that he was much vexed, and

ordered me to write a note to him, to say that we had two friends who

were very desirous to make his acquaintance, and would perhaps have some

favour to ask of him. This set all right immediately: he became very

intimate with them, and paid them every possible attention. He was a

thoroughly good Christian, but by no means a bigot, and his intimacy

with the philosophers made some people suspect his religious principles.

But, for my part, I never heard a word from him which could be thought

reprehensible by the severest moralist or most scrupulous Christian; and

when some secret enemy wrote to the Bishop of his diocese, to complain

of his frequenting the society of Voltaire and Madame du Châtelet, that

prelate answered, “he wished those personages were always in such good

company.” In fact, Père Jacquier had seen enough of the philosophers to

be able to estimate them at their just value. His heart was too warm to

sympathise with their cold selfishness and hypocritical philanthropy,

and his mind too enlightened to adopt the errors of their systematic

infidelity. He would say it is impossible to investigate the earth and

the skies without adoring the Creator, or to feel the weakness of our

nature without being a Christian.

Pope Ganganelli would have secularised Père Jacquier, but he declined

it. He admitted that, if he had to begin life again, he would not be a

monk, but it was now too late to make a change without necessity. He was

very well satisfied, he said, with his present situation, which did not

deprive him of the pleasure of seeing his friends: any alteration,

therefore, would only make people talk to no purpose. Besides his

pension as professor at Rome, he had one from the Duke of Parma, but he

gave everything away, and very often had no money left before the end of

the quarter. I think it was in the beginning of February, and the

weather rather colder than usual, that he came in one morning and

complained of not being well. My mother remarked his dress, and said:

“Why, you have got on your summer clothing already, and must have caught

cold.” He went home, and was laid up for some days, and we afterwards

learned that a poor person having asked him for money when he had none

to give, he had put on his summer dress and bestowed his winter one upon

the mendicant.

Another day he came to us with a very pretty little watch in his hand,

which he had won in a lottery. He was delighted with his prize, and

begged me to accept of it, but my mother said: “Père Jacquier, I will

tell you what to do with the watch. Take it to the man of whom you hire

a carriage when you want one. I know you are exact in payment” (for that

he was). “Let it be valued, and you will then have the pleasure of

visiting your friends, whether it rain, or shine, for a long while.” He

smiled and did as she advised, for he never liked to hire a carriage

unless he could pay for it at once.

His conversation was full of anecdotes, which he related in the most

clear and succinct manner. He was in correspondence with sensible and

learned men of all countries, for he had no prejudices, but great

discernment of character, and, though he liked to know every one who had

a name in the world, he soon made the proper distinctions. One day, as

we were looking at different portraits in a villa, the Chevalier de P.,

who was with us, observed one of Père Jacquier, and wrote under it the

following lines, which are truly characteristic:

Sage et profond calculateur!

Heureux disciple d’Uranie!

Ses amis parlent de son cœur,

Et l’univers de son génie.

There was a lady then at Rome who passed for being remarkably sensible

and well informed; but one of her most intimate associates was a young

man, who was thought the reverse of all that. I was told that Père

Jacquier said to her: “Take care of what you are doing. I believe your

conduct to be very correct; but when a man or a woman of great abilities

is constantly seen with one of the other sex who has not those

advantages, the world is ill natured enough to suppose that the intimacy

is not of the mind.”[118]

* * * * *

The Emperor Joseph II. was at that time (1783) making many “reforms,” or

“innovations,” as they were respectively designated by those who

approved or disapproved of them. The Pope thought it expedient to take a

journey to Vienna and converse with him on the subject, with a view, if

possible, to stop his going too far. The Romans, who have a great talent

for satire, criticised this project, and, like other nations, talked not

too loyally of his proceedings. They particularly noticed the number of

prelates he took with him. He has left us, they said, no one but

Monsignore Resta and Monsignore Testa, the only two Cardinals who

remained at Rome. It was also suggested that, as the Grand-Duke of

Russia called himself “le Comte du Nord,” the Pope ought to leave his

card as “l’Abbé du Midi.” The Pope, however, was received most

courteously and respectfully by the Emperor, his family, and his

subjects. He did not stay long, and when he came back he said that he

was perfectly satisfied; that Joseph II. might have some odd ideas; but

that, on the whole, he was a sensible, well-meaning man, a good

Christian, and one who wished to promote the happiness of his people.

That Pius VI. was a great sovereign cannot be doubted. His draining the

Pontine Marshes, his works at Terracina, which his unfortunate fate left

unfinished, all he did for the arts, showed what he was. But these great

undertakings could not be carried on without expense, and he was often

straitened for money. And when these works were commenced how could he

foresee the fatal storm that was rising? Had he not reason to believe

that what he was doing would eventually enrich his country? His noble

demeanour in adversity must have silenced those who were always finding

fault with him in his prosperity, as it furnished an incontrovertible

proof of the greatness of his mind.

Joseph II. returned his visit, and found at Rome Gustavus III., King of

Sweden. A greater contrast could not be imagined than the appearance of

those two monarchs. The Emperor, in a plain uniform, attended by an

aide-de-camp in an equally simple military dress, and the King of

Sweden, with his numerous suite of courtiers in velvets, satins, and

embroidery, went to all the great parties; but no fêtes were given to

them, at the Emperor’s particular request.

There was something in the manner of Gustavus III. very disadvantageous

to him. He chatted much, but always began by a silly sort of laugh,

which made one doubt his having the understanding or information which

he really possessed. The gentlemen who were with him wore white

handkerchiefs tied round one arm, in remembrance of what had been the

signal for his partisans in the change of constitution by which he had

so greatly offended many of the nobles of his country. It was supposed

that these innovations had been suggested to him by M. de Vergennes, and

by others, during his stay at Paris. He was apparently very partial to

France, and he not only spoke, but wrote, the language perfectly, for I

have read some very pretty French comedies composed by him in very good

taste; and also a drama, entitled “Gustavus Vasa,” in Swedish, which he

was supposed to have written. In this was introduced a scene in

imitation of that where Richard III. sees the ghosts of the persons

whose death he had caused. Here it is Christian, King of Denmark, who is

said to have committed such cruelties in Sweden, and who was conquered

by Gustavus Vasa and the brave Dalecarlians. One of the songs, for it is

an opera, may be thus translated:

Noble shades! great sires arise!

Sweden’s heroes! knights of yore!

If her welfare still ye prize,

Give to Freedom life once more.

Say, shall tyrants—say, shall slaves,

Trample o’er your sacred graves?

No! your ghosts to war’s alarms

Let e’en thraldom’s name excite!

Stretch, vindictive, forth your arms

From the breast of endless Night!

Count de Fersen, who was so well known afterwards for his attempts to

save the unfortunate Marie Antoinette,[119] and Count de Staël, who

married Mademoiselle Necker, were of the King’s suite. It is well known

that Gustavus was warmly hostile to the French revolution, which he was

preparing to oppose in the most active manner when he was assassinated.

Travellers of all nations were to be met at Rome, and, what is usually

called the best society not being very extensive, it was more easy to

form acquaintances, and even intimacies, than in most other great

cities. We knew almost all the English, and many of the foreigners.

Amongst the latter was a Knight of Malta, the Commander de Dolomieu. He

was a man of good family, from Dauphiny, and very agreeable in society.

He had studied mineralogy and chemistry with great success, and had

written a highly esteemed work on the great earthquake in Calabria.

[At a subsequent period, after the restoration of the King of the Two

Sicilies to Naples, in 1799, Miss Knight was in a position to render the

Commander de Dolomieu a very important service. The following mention is

made of him in a memorandum which appears to have formed part of a

narrative of events subsequent to Bonaparte’s Egyptian campaign: “I

received one day a letter from Messina, signed by a merchant, I believe

an English Quaker, enclosing one from the Commander de Dolomieu, who had

long been our intimate friend, and with whose family we were much

acquainted. He had, with other men of science, accompanied Napoleon

Bonaparte into Egypt, but on his return had been obliged by bad weather

to put into Messina, where he was thrown into a dungeon. He described

his condition as most miserable, and no doubt it was so in every

respect.[120]

“The Commander de D. was a man of ability and warm feeling. He was the

second son of a noble family in France, and, according to the custom of

those times, belonged to the Order of Malta. His elder brother offended

his father by his imprudence and impropriety of conduct. When the

Marquis was in a state of health so precarious that little hope was

entertained of his life, these two sons were sent for by their mother.

The eldest was at Paris, but put off his journey from day to day. The

second was with the Maltese galleys at Lisbon, but obtained leave of

absence, and instantly hastened to the family château, near Lyons. On

his arrival his father told him that he meant to make him his heir, and

only leave to his elder brother an annual income, enough for his

maintenance but not for the support of his extravagance. The Chevalier

de D. did all he could to persuade his father not to disinherit his

elder brother; but finding his efforts were fruitless, he went off to

Lyons, and there, in a Chapter of his Order, pronounced the irrevocable

vows which put it out of his power to receive the inheritance. After

this noble, but what many will think romantic, act of liberality, he

went back to Malta, where for some time he held one of the highest

employments, and enjoyed the confidence of the Grand-Master. He had

reason to believe that about that time the Empress Catherine was

endeavouring to make a secret treaty with the Neapolitan Government, for

the purpose of becoming Patroness, or perhaps Mistress, of the island of

Malta. When that island was given by the Emperor Charles V. to the

Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, after the loss of Rhodes, he

stipulated that he was to receive from them, as their liege lord, a

falcon every year. That devolved to his descendants, the Kings of

Naples, and the Commander de D. was persuaded that it would be

transferred to the Empress of Russia if the plot succeeded. That it did

not was attributed to his influence with the Grand-Master, and,

consequently, he was not in good odour at Naples. He had also enemies

among his brother knights, and as he was instrumental in the surrender

of Malta to Bonaparte, though he is said to have acted from a good

motive, this enmity was not a little increased. His chemical and

mineralogical studies naturally threw him into the society of the

philosophers, and at the beginning of the Revolution he belonged to the

Constitutional party, but he was nevertheless one of those who joined

the Swiss Guards in defence of Louis XV. at the Tuileries.”]

I ought before this to have mentioned the celebrated dramatist, Count

Alfieri. One of his tragedies, the “Antigone,” had been represented on a

stage erected at the Spanish Ambassador’s, where several plays were

performed during the month of October, and where, notwithstanding its

being the season of “villeggiatura,” there was much good company. The

Prince and Princess Rospigliosi, her brother the Duke di Ceri, his young

Duchess, and his secretary, were the principal actors; but in the

“Antigone” Alfieri himself acted _Creon_; the Duke di Giro, _Hemon_; the

Duchess, _Creusa_; and Princess Rospigliosi, _Antigone_. They all played

their parts with skill and propriety. The Duchess di Ciro had been

taught by Princess Giustiniani, her mother, who had been very partial to

this amusement, in which she also excelled.

In the “Barber of Seville,” Prince Rospigliosi, who in society appeared

to be rather a grave man, was a truly comic _Figaro_. The Countess of

Albany was then at Rome, and lived at the Chancery, in the apartments of

her brother-in-law, the Cardinal of York. This lady, as is well known,

was a Princess of Stolberg, and great-grand-daughter by the mother’s

side of Thomas Earl of Aylesbury,[121] who died at Brussels. She had

been married to the Pretender eight or ten years, and lived with him at

Florence, till one day she took refuge in a convent, on account, she

said, of the ill-treatment she received from him when he was

intoxicated. She afterwards came to Rome, where, as I have said, she was

lodged at the Chancery. She had a lady residing with her, a Chanoinesse.

The Countess was present at the performance of the “Antigone,” but she

did not in general go out to parties. Morning visits, however, she paid,

in which and in her walks she was always attended by the Countess de M.

But the romantic attachment of Count Alfieri, of which no mystery was

made—indeed, the verses he composed and the whole of his conduct

sufficiently declared it—induced Cardinal York, on his return from a

visit to his brother, who had been very ill at Florence, to apply to the

Pope for the dismissal of the Count from Rome. Pius made answer that,

according to the laws and customs of the State, he had no right to

dismiss a stranger who was committing no offence against the country;

and that all he could do would be to write to the Countess of Albany,

and request her to persuade her friend, for the sake of her own

character, to leave Rome. He did so, and the Countess answered, that

Count Alfieri never came to visit her but at the hour when her doors

were open to all her acquaintance; she would beg of him, however, to

comply with the request suggested by his Holiness. Count Alfieri

remained a few days longer, and then went off at noon in a handsome

equipage to visit Paris, London, &c. There was something very

extraordinary, but very fine, in the character of Alfieri. He was

introduced to us, and he asked my mother for letters to England, which

she was happy to give him.

I think I never knew two persons more unlike than Alfieri and the

Countess of Albany, in appearance, in manner, and even in sentiments.

She must, no doubt, have been very pretty in early youth. She had fine

eyes and teeth, but her figure was not graceful. There was nothing of

the ideal beauty about her which one would have imagined as the object

of Alfieri’s dreams of bliss; but she must have been very much admired,

for all travellers, as I have been told, used to call her the Queen of

Hearts. Married at twenty to a man of fifty, and in a political, or

rather, I should say, historical situation so peculiar, she was perhaps

more noticed than she otherwise would have been. To us she was very kind

and attentive, invited us to visit her, and never in any way neglected

us. She wrote plain, sensible letters, and was not devoid of

intelligence. Although I never heard her saying anything which could

offend religious or moral principles, I have been told that she was very

sceptical with respect to the former.

NAPLES—1785.

The Bishop of Castellamare, who was more than eighty years of age, still

mounted his horse. He was very good-natured and cheerful, and enjoyed

excellent health, which he attributed to his practice of fumigating his

apartments with perfumed gums. He had been for many hours buried under

the ruins of the house he inhabited in Calabria, at the time of the

great earthquake. The solidity of a beam saved him from being crushed

when the roof fell in. He is the only person whom I can recollect of our

Roman or Neapolitan acquaintance who ever endeavoured to bring me over

to the Roman Catholic religion. I begged him not to talk to me on the

subject; but he persisted in doing so. At last I said, with the

impertinent familiarity which his good nature encouraged: “Well, you

shall say what you please if for every half hour of this advice you will

send me a basket of curious specimens of lava and minerals for a friend

of mine, who is making a fine collection.” The good Bishop took the

hint, sent me several baskets of curious specimens of minerals, and

never uttered another word on the subject of conversion. I am sorry to

add, that soon after we left Naples, being made “Cappellano Maggiore,”

or high almoner to the King, who had a great regard for him, he was

obliged to give up his usual mode of life, and did not long survive his

honours.

Mr. and Mrs. Piozzi passed the winter at Naples and gave little

concerts. He played with great taste on the pianoforte, and used to

carry about a miniature one in his carriage. Mrs. Piozzi read to my

mother part of a manuscript, which she afterwards published, respecting

Dr. Johnson; but as she was angry with him on account of his disapproval

of her second marriage, she occasionally mentioned him in a manner that

displeased my mother, who always preserved a high veneration for his

memory.

Brilliant and gay as Naples then was, I did not like it so well as Rome,

nor indeed so well as I liked it at two subsequent visits. However, we

had no reason to complain of the time we passed in this capital, the

Parthenope of old, and still in a great measure retaining its ancient

character. Balls were given at what was called the “Accademia de’

Nobili,” something in the style of Almack’s. There was also another

“Accademia” for persons of the second class, as there was a considerable

number of opulent merchants from different countries visiting Naples.

The King and Queen made their appearance at each at least once a year,

and the foreign Ministers also went to both from time to time.

Sir William Hamilton had a very fine collection of Etruscan vases and

some good pictures. From his house, and more particularly from a boudoir

on the upper floor, he used to enjoy a magnificent view of the bay,

reflected on the mirrors which covered the entire side of the room

opposite to the semicircular window. The bay, by moonlight, appeared to

great advantage, and sometimes the full moon seemed to emerge from the

crater of Mount Vesuvius. On other nights it was curious to see the

lighted boats employed in the tunny fishery. The various kinds of

shell-fish which are found here are not to be told. The sailors of the

country pretend that everything which exists on land has its fellow in

the sea. Sea-oranges and sea-lemons I have seen and sketched; and one

day, as we were in a boat, we saw a little nautilus sailing and rowing

beside us.

The King of Naples had gone to Leghorn, I forget on what occasion, but

his little squadron sailed in not long after our arrival, in very good

style. He was accompanied by an English frigate, commanded by Captain

Blankett, an old friend of my mother, with whom she had constantly

corresponded since our departure from England, and whose letters were

very entertaining. Through him we were first made known to General

Acton, who was then, and for many years afterwards, everything at

Naples. He was Commander-in-Chief by land and sea, Minister,

confidential friend of the King and Queen, and in his politics much

attached to Austria and England. He was of a very ancient English Roman

Catholic family, but, I think, was born in France or Flanders. His elder

brother was in the Austrian service. He himself had been a midshipman in

our navy, but as in those days young men of his religion could not hold

commissions, he went into the Tuscan service, in which he obtained the

command of a frigate. When the Court of Naples wanted to put its navy on

a better footing, he was summoned thither for that purpose.

We were introduced to the Queen by her “Cameriera Maggiore,” from whose

apartment we walked through many passages of the palace, preceded by one

of her footmen, carrying a lantern, for it was evening. We found her

Majesty standing by a marble table between two windows. She asked us a

few indifferent questions, and then dismissed us to receive others. From

that time we were invited to everything that was going forward, but the

amusements were chiefly hunting-parties; no offence, however, was taken

at sending excuses.

NAPLES—1798.

September 3.—The joy expressed by the Neapolitans [at the victory of the

Nile] is very great. The King, when he heard it, was at table; he rose

and kissed the Queen and children, and said, “Now, children, you are

safe.” It happened to be a gala for the birth of a Princess of Tuscany:

the Queen told all the ladies, &c., that Sicily was safe.

22nd.—In the evening, went out with Sir William and Lady Hamilton,

music, &c., to meet Admiral Nelson, who in the _Vanguard_, with the

_Thalia_ frigate (Captain Newhouse), was seen coming in. We went on

board, about a league out at sea, and sailed in with him: soon after us,

the King came on board, and stayed till the anchor was dropped. He

embraced the Admiral with the greatest warmth, and said he wished he

could have been in the engagement, and served under his orders; and that

he likewise wished he could have been in England when the news of the

victory arrived there. He went down to see the ship, and was delighted

to perceive the care taken of a wounded man, who had two to serve him,

and one reading to him. He asked to see the hat which saved the

Admiral’s life, when he was wounded in the head with a splinter. The

Queen was taken with a fit of the ague when she was coming on board with

the Princesses. Commodore Caraccioli came soon after the King, and many

of the Neapolitan nobility, bands of music, &c. It happened to be the

anniversary of our King’s coronation. The Admiral came on shore with us,

and said, it was the first time he had been out of his ship for six

months, except once on board the _Lord St. Vincent_. The Russian

Ambassador and all the Legation came out to meet him. When we landed at

the Health Office, the applauses and the crowd of people were beyond

description. Admiral Nelson is little, and not remarkable in his person

either way; but he has great animation of countenance, and activity in

his appearance: his manners are unaffectedly simple and modest. He

lodges at Sir William Hamilton’s, who has given him the upper apartment.

The whole city is mad with joy.... In the evening, went to visit the

Admiral, at Sir William Hamilton’s, where there was a grand

illumination. The Neapolitans have written up “Vittoria” and “Viva

Nelson” at every corner of the streets.

November 5.—Appeared in sight Admiral Nelson, in the _Vanguard_, with

the _Minotaur_, Captain Louis, from Malta, and they were all day coming

in; but the Admiral came on shore at four o’clock, and went immediately

to Caserta, where he was scarce arrived when the Hereditary Princess was

brought to bed of a daughter, and the bells were ringing, guns firing,

&c. Next morning, the 6th, the Admiral presented to the King the French

colours taken at Gozo, telling his Majesty that he had sixteen thousand

subjects more than before.

December 15.—The night before last came in two Portuguese ships, and the

_Alcmene_ (Captain Hope), with a Turkish Ambassador, interpreters, &c.,

bringing the diamond aigrette, &c., for Lord Nelson. This Court is in

the greatest consternation, and does not trust any of its subjects. We

were desired by Lord Nelson and the Hamiltons to pack up our things,

previous to an embarkation, which seems inevitable. The Queen and

Princesses are to go with Lord Nelson.

WINDSOR—1805.

[In the Autobiographical Memoir, it is stated that Miss Knight became a

resident at Windsor in December of this year. From the following

extracts from her Journal, however, it would appear that her residence

commenced in June.]

* * * * *

June 22.—In the afternoon went to Windsor. Stopped on the way at

Hounslow for want of horses, on account of the Ascot Races. The road

from Staines to Windsor very pretty, with neat country houses. On my

arrival at a house in Park-street, near the entrance of Windsor, which

belongs to the Queen, I found very comfortable apartments neatly fitted

up, and a present of two pieces of India muslin, two of English, and one

of Chambery, from her Majesty.

Sunday, 23rd.—In the evening went to Lady Aylesbury’s apartments at the

Castle, and with her, at half-past eight, to the Queen’s drawing-room.

The King, Queen, and Princesses there. Music in the ante-room. Came away

at a little before eleven, when the Royal Family went to supper.

26th.—In consequence of the Queen’s invitation, went at half-past six in

the evening to Frogmore, with Miss Goldsworthy. The volunteers had dined

there. Besides their Majesties, the Royal Family, and their suite, some

of the neighbouring gentlemen and ladies were invited, and Dr. Goodall

with his Etonians. In a barn fitted up with festoons of evergreens and

flowers, two German “petites pièces” were extremely well acted by a

company of little children. After which, an automaton danced on the

rope, and a species of phantasmagoria was represented, consisting of

dancing figures, which formed groups and separated in an ingenious

manner. All finished before ten.

December 22.—Great joy about the Emperor of Russia’s conduct.[122] His

birthday to-morrow. Princess Elizabeth ate something to resemble a

tallow-candle, made of apple and burnt almond.

WINDSOR—1808.

June 4.—The King’s birthday. Went to Lady Charlotte Finch’s. The Queen,

and the Princesses, the Prince of Wales, and almost all the Royal Dukes,

came there, as also little Princess Charlotte, who is very graceful and

amiable. The Duchess of Brunswick had been to visit the King, and came

afterwards (before the company arrived) to see the apartments. She was

dressed wholly in white crape, and looked well, but much older than the

King. Her voice is loud.

9th.—In the morning went with the Queen and Princess Elizabeth to

Frogmore. Two Spanish noblemen[123] arrived in town to ask assistance

against the French. Catalonia and the Asturias in arms. The King much

pleased, but would not leave the novels that were being read to him.

August 10.—Went at half-past ten in the morning with Princess Elizabeth

to her cottage at Old Windsor, and helped to arrange things there till

between one and two, when we dressed for the company, who were beginning

to arrive. The Queen and the Princesses, with the Princess Sophia of

Gloucester, came about half-past two. The day was fine, and the grounds

looked very pretty. The Queen and Royal Family dined in the house: the

rest of the company in two tents, in one of which Lady Isabella Thynne

presided, and in the other, Lady George Murray. The hands of the Oxford

Blues and the Staffordshire Militia played. After dinner, when the

children came, there were three booths, at which they and all the

company had fairings; and then the children danced upon the lawn. It was

altogether a very pretty fête, and the Queen seemed much pleased, as,

indeed, did everybody. She went away at seven, or a little before, as

the King was expected to return from Town about that time. The rest of

the company stayed nearly an hour longer. In the evening I went to the

Queen’s party at the Castle.

October 7.—At Rochetts, Admiral Russell came. He asked for a fortnight’s

leave, but was dismissed _civilly_ from his command with great praises.

He said that, at all events, they would have teased him out of it. He

hoisted the Royal standard for the Queen of France, but it was not

approved.[124] He asked Lord St. Vincent whether he had done right, who

answered: “You could not do too much for a woman.” He is an honest,

brave officer, and goes by the name of Paddy Russell. He came in full

uniform. Lord and Lady St. Vincent are very good to the poor. They have

made gates instead of stiles through all the grounds for the convenience

of the people who come to church.

[1809.]

June 24.—Went to the Queen’s party to hear Mrs. Bates sing. She was a

Miss Harrop, a poor girl with a very fine voice, and was patronised by

the Dudley Ward family. She married, when young, a Mr. Bates,

commissioner of the Victualling Department, whose widow she now is. She

was considered the finest singer of Handel’s music ever known; and even

now, though turned of fifty, she preserves her voice most finely.

Bartleman sang some duets with her exceedingly well, and Wesley played.

25th.—In the evening at the Queen’s party. Wesley, who is a Methodist,

but plays on the organ finely, cannot, of course, be admitted into the

choir. He presented a petition to the King this morning, who gave him

100_l._

September 23.—The King was not at chapel this morning. Mr. Perceval,

Lord Liverpool, and the Duke of York were with him, probably settling

the new Administration. He heard, but not from Ministers, of the duel

between Lord Castlereagh and Mr. Canning on the evening of the day it

happened (the 22nd), but was not affected, though he thought it very

silly and wrong.

October 25.—Accession-day. The morning was ushered in by the discharge

of cannon, ringing of bells, &c. Went early to chapel, the company

chiefly in Garter blue. Afterwards to Mrs. Duval’s, to see the “feu de

joie,” and the troops march past—horse artillery, Blues, Stafford,

Windsor, and Clewer volunteers. An ox was roasted whole, and two sheep,

in a place called Bachelor’s Acre. The Queen, the Princesses, and the

Royal Dukes went to see it, and tasted the beef and pudding. In the

evening I went to the Castle, where there was the usual party: we were

all dressed in white satin. At nine, I accompanied Princess Elizabeth,

Princess Charlotte of Wales, and Lady Caroline Damer to Frogmore. The

Queen, the Prince of Wales, and most of the Royal Dukes came a little

after ten, when the fireworks, &c., took place. Things were not well

managed in the gardens, but the supper and all the arrangements in the

house were very pleasant. The Queen was much overcome by the feelings of

the day, and the accounts from Princess Amelia have not been good for

some time past. The King appeared in good spirits. The town was very

orderly, though full of people. There were two illuminated arches and

several transparencies.

26th.—Went to the barracks of the Staffordshire Militia to see the men

at dinner. Their wives and children were also entertained at tables in

the middle of the room—the men on each side. Tasted their pudding. Many

ladies and most of the officers were there. A bull was baited this

morning, and a ball this evening at the Town Hall. The company of the

town and the chief attendants at the Castle were in the upper rooms at

Frogmore last night with Madame Beckersdorff. Thirteen hundred tickets

were issued for the gardens. The Queen’s party was about ninety,

consisting, for the most part, of the ladies and gentlemen of the

neighbourhood who visit their Majesties at the Castle, or those who are

in the habit of spending a few days with them. The Archbishop of

Canterbury was at chapel in the morning. The Queen desired I would write

an inscription[125] for the illuminated building, and I gave the

following one: “Britannia, grateful to Providence, celebrates the

fiftieth year of a reign sacred to piety and virtue.”

November 7.—Princess Amelia returned from Weymouth about three, in the

Prince of Wales’s carriage, in which a cot had been slung by Sir H.

Neale. The Duke of Clarence, Princess Mary, and Lady George Murray with

her. The Duke of Cambridge rode in before them. She is in a sad state of

weakness and suffering.

[1810.]

October 30.—Bulletins given out of the King’s illness, which it is,

however, hoped will be more favourable than formerly, as he submits to

whatever is ordered. Mr. Perceval and the Chancellor came down, but

could not see him: they saw the Queen. He is attended by Sir H. Halford

and Dr. Baillie; and Messrs. Dundas and Battiscombe.

November 2.—Parliament met yesterday, and only adjourned for a

fortnight, as Ministers could not obtain a signature from the King. I

went to the Queen at eleven; about twelve, dear Princess Amelia expired,

after a confinement of a year and eight months, and the most dreadful

sufferings, of which her exemplary piety alone afforded any alleviation.

Mr. Charles Digby often read prayers by her side, and she received the

Sacrament three times within the last month. The Prince of Wales and all

his brothers have been here constantly for the last three weeks.

3rd.—Went to inquire after the King; the bulletin says he had a better

night, but no diminution of fever.

4th.—In the morning went to Princess Augusta—and also on the 7th. Passed

the week in calling on Lady Ilchester, Lady Ely, and at home. Sir Henry

and Lady Halford in the Lane. Received a letter from the

Vice-Chamberlain (Lord Dartmouth being dead) to invite me to the funeral

in the name of her Majesty. Princess Augusta had before told me that the

King had named me to be at it on account of dear Princess Amelia’s

regard for me.

On the Wednesday evening, November 7th, sat up with Lady George Murray

to watch the remains of dear Princess Amelia in the room adjoining. The

King continues very ill, and Francis Willis was sent for, in addition to

the physicians, three days since.

10th.—Sir H. Halford seems to think the King better. His lucid intervals

are more frequent and longer.

11th.—Sir H. Halford says the King was quite rational this morning, and

aware of the death of Princess Amelia. He shed tears, and mentioned a

letter he had sent to her, and asked for the answer.

Ministers have been very cruelly impatient, and their desire of getting

his signature for proroguing the House occasioned sad scenes with the

physicians, who boldly withstood them. They could not, however, prevent

their sending down Willis, which will be a great affliction to the King

when he knows it, which he now must. He had made the Queen and all the

family swear he should never see the Willises more.

13th.—At four, went by the Queen’s desire to dine at the Castle with the

ladies, as did Lady Halford. The Queen and Royal Family dined by

themselves. Between six and seven we went in three carriages to the

cloisters. Lady Chesterfield, chief mourner, with Ladies Ilchester and

Macclesfield, her supporters, and Lady Halford, trainbearer, in the

first. In the second, Ladies Ely, Cranley, Isabella Thynne, and George

Murray, supporters of the pall; in the third, Mrs. Egerton, Mrs.

Feilding, and myself. (Miss Townshend was not well enough to come.) Lady

Albinia Cumberland, as senior lady of the Princesses, went to Augusta

Lodge with Miss Goldsworthy and Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. Adams went in

the carriage with them, following the Prince and the Duke of Cambridge,

the executors, to attend the hearse to the church. We went to Dr.

Heath’s, where the equerries and grooms of the bedchamber were to wait

for being called. The Princes and chief mourners were in the

Garter-room. They were in black veils and gloves, we in long white crape

veils and gloves, the Blues and Staffords on duty; the Blues holding

torches every fifth man. Madame and Mademoiselle Beckersdorff, Miss

Planta, and Mademoiselle Montmellin also walked in the procession, and

the housekeepers and dressers; the soldiers were in ranks, through which

we passed. The service chanted. The church looked awfully fine, and the

choir where the first part of the service was performed still and

sublime. The Dean, who had just lost his brother (Lord Dartmouth, Lord

Chamberlain), performed the service. The anthem, chosen by the King, was

part of the 16th Psalm, from the ninth verse to the end. It used to be

sung by the Royal Family. The body was buried in a vault dug behind the

altar. The whole was very fine, and respectfully attended to by the

spectators. I felt an elevation of mind, which supported me, and a

sincere trust that the dear sufferer is now happy. We got home about

half-past ten. A great number of gentlemen and noblemen attached to the

Court, and all the Ministers, attended.

14th.—Was sent for by Princess Elizabeth to go to the Queen, who was

calm and tolerably well; afterwards went to Princess Elizabeth’s and to

Dr. Hallam’s. The King was asleep last night during the funeral; he

afterwards sent a kind message to the Queen and Princesses, and said he

was resigned, but has cried much, and continues so to do. This morning

he wished to settle everything for the payment of the people at Augusta

Lodge. Lady and Miss Halford, Mrs. and Miss Baillie, dined with me. Sir

Henry and Dr. B. drank tea—they are in almost constant attendance on the

King, and sit up in their turn.

16th.—Parliament met yesterday, and was prorogued for a fortnight

longer. The physicians were previously examined by Ministers. The King

was at that time better, but in the evening had much fever; this evening

he is again rather better.

22nd.—The King has been very ill for several days, and has scarcely any

sleep.

26th.—The King not so well last night; much the same this morning.

29th.—The physicians were examined at the Cockpit, by an open meeting of

Privy Councillors, yesterday and to-day.

30th.—Walked in the court. Sir Henry Halford. He, and Lady and Miss

Halford, dined with me. Yesterday the majority for an adjournment of a

fortnight was more than a hundred in the House of Commons; not so

considerable in that of the Lords. The Dukes of York and Cambridge voted

for Government; Clarence and Sussex against; Kent and Cumberland stayed

away.

December 6th.—In the morning the King not so well as he has been for the

last four or five days.

7th.—The King very ill, but rather better than yesterday.

8th.—The King continues very ill.

14th.—Went to the Queen, and to Princess Augusta. Both Houses of

Parliament met yesterday, and Ministers, having stated that the King was

not yet well enough for business, proposed a committee of twenty-one in

each House, for examining the physicians on the 14th and 15th; their

reports to be printed on Monday, the 17th, and the House to meet on the

19th for debate.

25th.—Christmas-day. A most dreadfully tempestuous night. The King was

very ill in the evening—a violent attack—and I believe in danger. The

Prince and Duke of Cumberland came in the night. All the Princes are

here. The King’s fever is greatly abated; but he was in serious danger

last night; his pulse was at 125.

26th.—In the morning went to Frogmore with the Queen, Princess

Elizabeth, and Lady Aylesbury; afterwards with the Queen at the Castle,

and with Lady A. The King much the same as before his late attack.

27th.—The Regency will be proposed in the House of Lords. The amendment

for an address lost by 26: 100 against 74. The Dukes of York and Sussex

spoke in favour of the amendment. Lord Grenville for the bill, but

against the conduct of Ministers, accusing them of high treason.

[1811.]

January 2nd.—Yesterday Ministers were left in a minority by 13, on the

question of the household, the amendment conferring part of the

patronage on the Prince of Wales, the rest on the Queen, with the care

of his Majesty’s person. Evening at Miss Goldsworthy’s and Lady

Aylesbury’s.

3rd.—Ministry yesterday left in a minority of 3, on the restrictions

they intended to impose on the Regent. Lord Porchester proposed the

amendment.

5th.—The Peers sat till five this morning. Opposition carried every

question except the right of granting peerages. Majorities of 3.

18th.—The King walked on the terrace yesterday with Willis and Heberden,

and was joined by Baillie. The fact is, Willis told him he might go, and

he was delighted; Heberden consented through weakness; and the key of a

tower staircase was procured before the page (Bolt) could refuse it. Sir

H. Halford was in Town, and Baillie did not know it, until, coming into

the apartment soon after, he missed his patient, and went down to him.

The Queen did not know it till the evening. The effect was hurtful, as

the irritation increased in consequence of the walks not being

continued, which, considering the cold and damp of the north terrace

(the only one not overlooked), and other inconveniences, it was

impossible to allow. It was probably a manœuvre of Willis to please

Ministers (and perhaps ordered by them), to make people suppose the King

better, and to get more votes on the Regency Bill question, which came

on that day; and they _had_ a majority of 27.

25th.—The Chancellor and Mr. Perceval could not see the King yesterday,

though the Chancellor had declared he would see him, as he would not put

the Great Seal to the Bill without it; but though the physicians all

declared he might, they would not either of them; probably not being

satisfied with what they heard of his Majesty’s state; they say they

will to-morrow; in the mean while a debate of importance will have taken

place. Lord Moira carried (by two) the adjournment against proxies on

Wednesday; his speech was uncommonly animated, and he very severely

reprehended the Ministers, said the Chancellor had come as a champion,

but in rusty armour, called them a nest of scorpions, and said the

nation was not so stultified by the oppressions of late years as not to

take notice of their proceedings.

26th.—The Chancellor and Mr. Perceval saw the King this morning, and the

Great Seal is to be put to the Regency Bill, as they can now have no

doubt of the unfortunate state of his mind.

30th.—Mr. Perceval saw the King this morning, and told him of the

Regency, which he bore very well; indeed, he continues in high

spirits—some delusions.

February 1.—The King saw Lord Liverpool and another of the Ministers

this morning, and they say he had no delusions—talked over the

Regency—very happy. The Prince sent a kind and dutiful message to the

King by Sir H. Halford, saying he should be happy to give up power to

him again, &c.

3rd.—The Prince does not change the administration; at least till he

sees whether the King recovers in a short time.

5th.—The Prince made known to the Ministers that he only kept them as

his father’s servants. It is said the King is really recovering.

9th.—The King saw the Queen yesterday and to-day, is much better, and

walks on the terrace.

11th.—The King told the Queen the first day he saw her, that never son

had made greater sacrifices to a father than the Prince had to him.

12th.—The Prince Regent saw the King this morning.

13th.—The Queen held her first Council to-day, and the physicians were

examined.

April 11th.—Saw the Queen and Princess Augusta. The King much the same.

17th.—The Queen’s Council, who come every Wednesday and Saturday, made a

good report of the King to-day.

20th.—This morning the King was thought to be much better; and in the

afternoon, while he was walking with the Dukes of York and Kent, they

thought him so far well, that it was found necessary to acquaint the

Queen’s Council, that no new arrangement might be made.

23rd.—Went with the Queen and the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary to

Frogmore, and went round the fields. The Duke of Sussex came at one.

27th.—The King walks on the terrace twice a day, but his mind is still

subject to many delusions, and it is a sad time for all the family.

20th.—The King rode out to-day for the first time since his illness.

30th.—The King was not out this morning, and none of his family have

seen him. The physicians were all here yesterday, and the Queen’s

Council.

July 13.—I went every evening this week (except this) to Frogmore with

the Queen and the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary. The King has been very

ill the whole week, and continues so.

14th.—A bad bulletin, and the most attached seem hopeless of the King’s

recovery.

15th.—The King has been dangerously ill all to-day, and has taken no

nourishment—his mind more distracted than ever, and his fever very high.

Willis was up with him all last night, and Sir Henry Halford stays. I

was at Lady Ilchester’s in the evening.

16th.—The King took three jellies, and had a little sleep this morning.

The account in the evening was the same, and that no new symptoms had

appeared.

17th.—I was with the Queen, the Princesses Elizabeth and Mary, the Dukes

of Cambridge and Cumberland, at Frogmore. The King a little, but _very

little_, better; all the physicians remain. Great alarm in London.

18th.—The Prince came to Windsor for a short time, and had a

conversation with the Queen. There seems to be no amendment.

19th.—The Prince will not give away anything vacant by death or

resignation. The Ministers complain that Government cannot go on without

it. He tells them he reserves them for the King to fill up on his

recovery, and that it was _their_ fault that these difficulties

occurred, from the restraints they laid. He has sent Tucker to get money

from his Duchy of Cornwall, that he may not be obliged to Ministers.

29th.—During the last week nothing very material has taken place. The

King has been as ill as ever, and takes so little nourishment that it is

scarcely possible he can recover any strength—his mind as much deranged

as ever. I have been almost every evening with the Queen and Princesses

Elizabeth and Mary at Frogmore. Yesterday the King was taken up, and put

on his flannel gown; he took four basins of milk; and he was thought to

be not so weak as was apprehended.

August 5.—The last week passed nearly like the former. I went several

evenings with the Queen and Princesses Mary and Elizabeth to Frogmore.

The Queen read Thomson’s “Seasons;” but on Thursday the Queen’s Council

came unexpectedly to propose calling in more physicians, or, at least,

that a consultation might be held. The Prince came down several times.

The King had another paroxysm, and is still in a dreadful state of mind;

and will take nothing now but water and biscuit. A consultation was held

yesterday at Sir Henry Halford’s. John Willis, Munro, and Simmons were

the additional members. Simmons, however, would not give his opinion, as

he said he could not, without having seen the patient. He came from

Oxfordshire, through Windsor, for that purpose; but it was not

permitted, as the other two, J. Willis and Munro, had not seen his

Majesty.

7th.—Yesterday, Sir Henry Halford called and told me that when Lords

Aylesbury, Winchilsea, and the Archbishop of Canterbury came to propose

John Willis, the Queen, by the advice of the Prince, to whom she sent at

Sir Henry’s request, answered that she and all the family had taken a

solemn oath by which they promised the King that they never would admit

J. Willis to attend him again, and that from the information given in

1804, during his Majesty’s last illness, the Privy Council had declared

that the King’s objections were not without a foundation, in consequence

of which the then Ministers (Lord Sidmouth’s Administration) had sent

Simmons, a new person. Her Majesty, however, to prove that she had no

personal prejudice against J. Willis, and did not wish to exclude any

advice which might be supposed beneficial to the King, consented that a

consultation might be held, at which J. Willis, with the addition of

Drs. Simmons and Munro, might be present. This was held at Sir H.

Halford’s, and last night the answers were given. Princess Mary told me

this morning they only recommended acting as circumstances might

require, and suggested nothing new. The King was dreadfully ill last

night; and Willis even said they never attended one so ill, except a

gentleman who died within forty-eight hours after. Yesterday, amidst

much incoherent matter, he said, on a sudden: “The King is dying;” but

then went on to other ravings. This was told me last night by Miss

Goldsworthy. He is grown exceedingly thin, and scarcely takes any

nourishment.

14th.—The King has been nearly in the same state in which he was a week

ago. He takes more nourishment, but his mind is in as bad a state as

ever; and the worse the more food he takes. The Queen’s Council answered

that for _the present_ they would not insist on J. Willis being

admitted. They seem to have a notion of a right to _more_ than giving

_advice_. The Prince spent his birthday (the 12th) here. He came the day

before, and stayed till the 13th. He rode out with Princesses Sophia and

Augusta in the morning, and afterwards came to Frogmore, where the Queen

was with Princesses Elizabeth and Mary, and the Duke of Clarence; and I

was with her. The Duke of Cumberland came with the Prince. We sat long

at luncheon, and the Prince was very attentive. The Duchess of York came

to dinner, and all the Dukes were there, except the Duke of Sussex, who

is ill. I was with Princess Sophia one evening, and twice with Princess

Augusta. It seems the King has made no will, but it is thought he has

made two or three memorandums. The Prince has informed his sisters that

he means, in case of the King’s death, to have their incomes increased,

and to give them apartments at St. James’s, as also to keep a table for

them.

I went almost every morning to Frogmore with the Queen and Princesses

Elizabeth and Mary. The Queen read Rogers’s “Pleasures of Memory” and

Cowper’s “Task,” and planted little oaks and geraniums.

19th.—The King’s bodily health seems to be improved, but his mind

remains in as bad a state as ever. The Queen’s Council (which seems to

be very despotically inclined) insisted on bark being given him. The

Prince spent the Duke of York’s birthday here, as did all the family.

Was every morning with the Queen, except Saturday and Sunday, and she

read Cowper’s “Task.”

26th.—The King is certainly rather better; for he sleeps, takes

nourishment, is not always so violent, and sometimes talks a little

rationally, at least within the last three days. Great apprehensions

have been entertained for the Duke of Sussex; and, though better, he is

thought to be in a very bad way. All the family met to spend the Duke of

Clarence’s birthday (the 21st) here. I was with the Queen and Princesses

Mary and Elizabeth most mornings at Frogmore. The Queen read Cowper and

Cicero’s “Letters,” and took me with her in the little carriage, drawn

by a pony.

September 3.—There seems to be little if any difference in the state of

the King. On Saturday the Queen’s Council presented a petition, signed

by all but Lord Winchilsea and the Bishop of York, requesting that her

Majesty would send for Simmons. Her reply was that she had _promised_

the King he should neither have Simmons nor Willis. Lord Winchilsea

wanted John Willis. I was every morning with the Queen and Princesses

Elizabeth and Mary at Frogmore, except Saturday and Sunday. The Queen

read Cicero’s “Epistles.” I was also with Princesses Augusta and Sophia.

9th.—Still the same uncomfortable state, and certainly no amendment. I

was with the Queen and Princesses as usual.

Yesterday, the 8th, was the fiftieth anniversary of the Queen’s

wedding-day. The Duke and Duchess of York, Duke of Clarence, and Duke of

Kent, dined with her. The Prince was prevented by business: he is just

returned from Lord Hertford’s.

16th.—Heberden and the other physicians quarrelling; the former thinking

the King better. It does not appear that there is any improvement. I was

not out much with the Queen this week. Looked over a manuscript of

English history for Princess Elizabeth. Went to Princess Augusta, &c.

Nothing very remarkable happened here in the last three months of 1811.

The King rather recovered his bodily health, but his mind remained the

same. No one allowed to speak to him but John Willis. The Queen began to

have small parties in her own drawing-room, consisting of the ladies and

gentlemen in waiting, on the week-days; on the Sundays only her lady of

the bedchamber and myself. On Christmas evening the Archbishop of

Canterbury and Lord Walsingham. The Prince fell down at Oatlands, and

hurt his foot and hand, which confined him a long while, and he took too

much laudanum.

[1812.]

On the 18th of February the Regency Act expired, and the Prince of Wales

became unfettered by Parliament, but continued the same Ministers in

office, and only wrote a letter to the Duke of York, desiring he would

offer to Lord Grey to join this Administration, and to communicate the

same to Lord Grenville. They refused to join, and those of his former

friends to whom the vacant Garters were offered, refused them, as they

did all places and honours. Lord Cholmondeley alone accepted a place.

Lord Hertford was made Chamberlain; and his son, Lord Yarmouth,

Vice-Chamberlain. Scandal very busy about the Prince and Lady Hertford.

Ten thousand pounds a year was added by Parliament to the Queen’s

income, and 3000_l._ to each of the Princesses, on which they were to

have an establishment of their own. They appointed one lady each:

Princess Augusta, Miss C. Onslow, getting for her the title of Lady;

Princess Elizabeth, the Dowager Lady Rosslyn; Princess Mary, Lady

Isabella Thynne; and Princess Sophia, Lady Mary Powlett. They at the

same time announced to the Queen their intention of sometimes making

visits to their brothers. They also took servants, and ordered carriages

for themselves. The Queen began to see a little more company, but only

those belonging to her, or very intimate friends. I asked leave to go to

Town, and into Essex and Suffolk for seven weeks, to return for the

Queen’s birthday. I went on Monday, the 30th of March, and stayed a week

in Town, four days with Lady Nepean, at Fulham, and on the 10th went to

Lord St. Vincent’s, at Rochetts, where I dined and slept that night. The

next day I went on to Harwich (dining at Colchester), and stayed two

days at Mrs. Deane’s, at Harwich. I went from thence on the 14th to Dr.

Norgate’s, at Ashfield, in Suffolk, and stayed a week there. On the 21st

I went to Bury, where I dined at Miss Norgate’s, and from thence came to

Halsted, and slept at Mrs. Urquhart’s. Next day arrived at Rochetts, and

stayed there till the 9th of May, when I came to Town. On the 11th,

Bellingham shot Mr. Perceval. I returned to Windsor on the 18th, and on

the following evening was at the Queen’s party. Princess Charlotte of

Wales, the Duchess of York, and Princess Sophia of Gloucester there.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

ANECDOTES.

[THE following anecdotes are selected from a large number, recorded by

Miss Knight mostly at the end of her journals. They were either written

from her own personal knowledge, or picked up by her in society, and set

down at the time in her note-books. They are of unequal interest, and if

not all new, are, at all events, authentic.]

* * * * *

Mr. Boswell being asked by Burke why he put so many absurdities into his

Life of Dr. Johnson, replied: “You, sir, have been guilty of greater

absurdities.” The other defied him to point them out. “Do you remember,”

asked Boswell, “when you said in Parliament, ‘We have the best of Kings

and the most grateful people?’” Burke replied, “You have reason.”

* * * * *

Boswell was asked by the King how he would ever get through his work on

Dr. Johnson. “Sire,” said he, “I have a more difficult task than

that—how to call the unfortunate grandson of James II., whose adventures

in Scotland I propose to narrate.” “Why,” replied the King, “call him

the unfortunate grandson of James II.”[126]

* * * * *

Mrs. Piozzi says she has been punished, like a vagabond, by hard labour

and a month’s confinement; and nine times in her life she has suffered

the same fate.

* * * * *

Lord Nelson says, that when he was seventeen years of age, he won

300_l._ at a gaming-table; but he was so shocked on reflecting that, had

he lost them, he should not have known how to pay them, that from that

time to this he has never played again.

* * * * *

When Admiral Nelson’s arm was cut off, the surgeon asked if he should

not embalm it, to send it to England to be buried; but he said, “Throw

it into the hammock with the brave fellow that was killed beside me”—a

common seaman.

* * * * *

As we were going in the Admiral’s barge the other day, looking at the

ships and talking of the victory (of the Nile), Sir William Hamilton

could not be pacified for the French calling it a drawn battle: “Nay, it

was a drawn battle,” said the Admiral, “for they drew the blanks and we

the prizes.”

* * * * *

The Queen of Naples desired to have a portrait of Nelson. Little Prince

Leopold said he would get a copy, and stand continually opposite to it,

saying, “Dear Nelson, teach me to become like you.”

* * * * *

Captain Troubridge wrote to condole with Captain Darby, of the

_Bellerophon_, for his wounds and the number of people killed in his

ship; but added, that had his sufferings been fifty times as much, _he_

had rather have been in his place than have borne the anguish he felt

from running aground and being kept out of the action; that he had found

great difficulty in keeping from shooting himself; and that he even then

frequently shed tears. Captain Darby and Captain Gould, who was present

when he received the letter, both wept.

* * * * *

The estate of Bronté, near Mount Etna, so called from one of the

Cyclops, was given by the King to Lord Nelson. It is a Dukedom, with

estates valued at between two and three thousand pounds sterling per

annum. His Majesty also presented him with a sword set with diamonds

which had belonged to his father, the King of Spain, accompanied by a

letter, saying, that as this was the sword with which his father had

conquered Naples, it ought to belong to Lord Nelson, who had recovered

that kingdom. Every officer who came in with good news received a

present from the Queen, of greater or less value, according to the

circumstances and his rank in our service. She also gave some very

valuable jewels to Lady Hamilton. The Order of St. Ferdinand was

instituted by the King for the recovery of his Italian States, and

crosses were bestowed upon our officers, and upon the Neapolitan

Ministers, and others attached to the Court who had followed the Royal

Family to Palermo. A Neapolitan one day remarked that this Order had not

been conferred on a single Sicilian. A gentleman of the island being

present, and thinking this was said in an invidious manner, replied,

“His Majesty is perfectly right to give his new Order to the few

Neapolitans who have remained faithful. Had he given it to us, it must

have been to every inhabitant of the island, for all have been true to

him.” The Sicilians certainly did show great loyalty, and were delighted

with the presence of their sovereign, but it must also be remembered

that they had a deep-rooted and hereditary dislike to the French. They

always spoke with pride of the Sicilian Vespers, and would at any time

have been ready to repeat them. Similar feelings prevailed in Sardinia

and Malta, without any historical motive, but there is an independence

in the character of islanders which is not easily overcome, unless

biased by commercial speculations.

* * * * *

The Turkish squadron, commanded by Cadir Bey, came to Palermo (1799),

with two other ships of the line beside his own, under the orders of a

Vice and a Rear-Admiral, and a frigate called the _Eagle of the Sea_,

the Captain of which was a young man related to the Grand Seignior, whom

the Turks called “the mad Prince,” because he was very romantic. I

recollect that one day, while walking in the garden, he happened to see

my little dog, which he took up in his arms, and recited some verses to

it, apparently with great affection. There was a Greek, who kept a

coffee-house at Palermo, and served as interpreter to the Turkish

officers, but he could not exactly translate these verses, and all I

could learn was that they were “extempore.” He then told me that the

Prince had desired him to say that one day, as he was riding along the

shore of the Bosphorus, a spirited horse threw him into the sea, when a

dog jumped in after and saved him; for which reason he had imposed on

himself the duty of paying a compliment in verse to those animals

whenever he found a proper opportunity for so doing. A beautiful fête

was given at the palace for the recovery of the kingdom of Naples, in

the name of Prince Leopold, who was then about nine years of age. His

tutor and the Queen made all the arrangements, and the former composed a

very pretty cantata on the occasion. The Turkish Admiral went in the

carriage with us; the Vice and Rear-Admirals, with the Captain of the

_Eagle of the Sea_, in another, but we could not persuade the latter to

put on a caftan like the others. He insisted on going in his short dress

and trousers, with bare arms and ankles, declaring that it was

disrespectful to appear before the Queen in “a great coat;” just as we

should think it wrong to wear a shawl in the presence of their

Majesties. His turban was adorned with fine jewels. His dress was of

purple silk, richly embroidered with silver, and his slippers of the

same colour, which exclusively belongs to members of the imperial

family. His linen was remarkably fine, and beautifully washed; his

trousers were equally _recherché_, and without doubt he was the model of

a Constantinopolitan dandy.

After the performance of the concert there was a magnificent firework,

representing the blowing up of _L’Orient_ at the battle of the Nile. The

Turks were delighted with this compliment to our navy, but the Russians

did not appear equally well pleased. The gardens were beautifully

illuminated.

* * * * *

The Honourable Samuel Barrington, the younger son of an Irish Peer, was

sent into the Navy in his extreme youth, and at an early age was made a

post-captain. He was one of those very few persons who have many friends

and scarcely one enemy. He was not brilliant in understanding, and his

appearance was plain, but his heart was excellent. He loved his friends,

was charitable and humane to an extensive circle, and constantly kind

and liberal to his family.

He was a good officer, and of the right school. Not ambitious, neither

was he eager after fame. He wished to do his duty, and he did it well.

If he had ambition in any the slightest degree, it was to get on in the

service without making use of the powerful interest of his brother, who

was for many years in the Ministry; and for this purpose he endeavoured

to have his ship better manned, to get under weigh sooner, be sooner out

of dock, &c. &c., than other people. It is not impossible that his rank

in life was often of service to him on these occasions, but it was not

his intention to avail himself of that advantage. He was a father to his

officers and seamen, and was so generally liked in the Navy, that it was

remarked that no company of sea-officers ever met without drinking his

health.

When he was an Admiral he never desired to be a commander-in-chief, for

he did not like responsibility, and he was envious of no man. He spent

his fortune in hospitality and acts of charity, avoiding all

ostentation, not only because he had no taste for it, but because he

would not hurt the feelings of his brother officers by living in a

manner which those of more limited incomes could not have imitated

without distressing themselves.[127] He was never violent in politics,

and hatred seemed banished from his nature. I believe Admiral Barrington

to have been a sincere Christian.

His conduct at Santa Lucia, both in taking the island and afterwards in

defending it against the infinitely superior force of D’Estaing, was

greatly applauded. In answer to the haughty letter in which the French

commander exhorted him to give up a place which he could not defend

against such inequality of force, he only returned him his letter,

crossed over with two long scratches of his pen, and defeated him

completely.

Admiral Barrington was desired by my mother to be her executor and my

guardian, with the two Admirals Drake, in case she died before I was of

age. But though he survived my mother, her life was mercifully spared to

me for many years after that period; and he died before my return to

England, after a long illness, which kept him chiefly at Bath during the

last years of his existence.

* * * * *

I remember a young officer of the French Navy saying one day: “I should

like to be an English Peer until I reached thirty-five. I would then be

a Marshal of France till fifty, and afterwards come to Rome, be a

Cardinal, and never die.” The same officer, looking at the fine picture

of the “Magdalen,” by Guido, exclaimed: “Oh, what a lovely picture! I

have always liked Magdalens in every stage of their existence.”

* * * * *

Signor Balbi was surprised to find that there was no Burgundy left in

his cellar, when he wanted to place some before a party of friends who

were dining with him at his country villa. “Ah!” said he, “it must have

been that Englishman, Lord Fortrose, who has been staying here some days

with my wife, that has drank it. Ah! I never thought of my wine.”

* * * * *

The Bishop of Parma said, that in that climate they had “nove mesi

d’inverno, e tre d’inferno.”

* * * * *

It often happened in Genoa that, when any one was building, or repairing

his house, his opposite neighbour, if he thought it so high as to be

inconvenient to himself, or disagreeable for any other reason, had it

fired at with musket-shot, or at least pelted with stones. This

occurred, whilst we were there, to the house of Signor Negroni.

* * * * *

The Archbishop of Genoa hearing an Abbé say that the earth moved round

the sun, told him he was astonished at his impiety in flatly

contradicting the Scriptures, which say, “Terra autem stat.”

* * * * *

Madame de Staël, daughter of M. Necker, being at a ball with a lady,

daughter of the late M. de Guichen, Lieutenant-General of the Marine,

for whom she was in mourning, kept tormenting the latter to dance. The

lady replied that she could not dance while she was in mourning for her

father; but Madame de Staël still importuned her, until she said:

“Consider, madam, if you had had the misfortune to lose your father,

could you think of dancing so soon?” “Oh!” returned the other, with a

haughty air, “there is such a difference between fathers and fathers.”

“True, madam,” replied her companion, “there is a great difference. My

father served his king and his country during sixty years—yours in a

fortnight has ruined both.”

* * * * *

Two Frenchmen of the lowest order, talking of the present condition of

their country as they were crossing the Rhône, one of them said it was

delightful to be equal to the nobility and gentry. “True,” replied the

other, “it would have been pleasant to have been upon an equality with

them while they were something; but now we have brought them down and

ruined them, I do not see what we have gained by being equal to them.”

* * * * *

The Princess of Monaco stayed here a few days after the Prince’s

departure, in the hope that the revolution aimed at by the aristocratic

party would take place. When she received an express from the Prince,

she wept bitterly while she read his letter, and then immediately

ordered post-horses and set off, exclaiming: “Adieu, mon palais! adieu,

mes honneurs! Je ne suis plus rien.”

* * * * *

The Corsicans having lately heard that they were to be restored to

Genoa, represented to the Government that, rather than be given to their

former masters, they begged that France would bestow them on the person

to whom Louis XI. formerly gave the Genoese. During the reign of that

monarch the Genoese sent Ambassadors to his Court, with instructions to

place the republic under the protection of France. “Les Gênois,” said

they, “se donnent à votre Majesté.” “Et moi,” answered the King, “je les

donne au diable.”

A Venetian, being asked by a German where his countrymen got their lion

with wings, replied: “We caught him in the same forest where you found

your two-headed eagle.”

* * * * *

Linnæus hated Buffon. He used to say that Buffon’s eloquence would

mislead the world so as to make it believe his lies. One day, being at

dinner with the mother of the present King of Sweden (Gustavus III.), at

her country-house at Drottningholm, he saw a portrait of himself and one

of Buffon in the room. He rose from table, and begged she would take

away one or the other, for he would not have his portrait in such

company. When very old, he used to go out herborising with several

hundred students of the University of Upsal. He had a trumpet with him,

by which the signal was given to call his scholars around him when he

found any plant particularly curious. They also brought to him all that

they had collected, which he classified and explained to them, sitting

down upon the grass. He was simple in his habits and behaviour. He could

speak French very well, but would not, because he hated the nation. He

also spoke German, and a little English. He was much beloved. When the

funeral service was performed over him, the man who had been gardener

for twenty years of the botanical nursery he had established, came and

strewed his grave with boughs of cypress—which Linnæus had introduced

into Sweden—and with the most curious exotics in the garden.

* * * * *

The Piedmontese called all the Genoese “Bacciacini,” that being a common

name at Genoa. When they met any of the inhabitants of that city in the

streets of Turin, they plagued them by calling out: “Bacciacini, dom,

dom, dom”—imitating the sound of the great bell for assembling the

Consiglietto.

* * * * *

An Italian at Vienna was telling a lady how long he had been travelling,

and pronouncing French according to the manner of his nation, he said:

“J’ai été un _âne_ à Paris et un _âne_ à Rome.” “Mon cher Abbé,” replied

the lady, “il paraît que vous avez été un âne partout.”

* * * * *

M. Lageswärd said, in the presence of Baron de Wrangel, that the latter

had the reputation in Sweden of being very fertile in point of

gallantry. “Why, no, indeed, my dear friend,” answered the Baron; “I

have really been very constant; but consider, when a man has been making

love near sixty-five years, how many mistresses he must necessarily have

had.”

* * * * *

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.

* * * * *

A general reform having been instituted at Genoa in the signs of inns

and taverns, no saints or foreign sovereigns were to be allowed. The man

who kept the “Santa Marta” being ordered to take down that sign, put up

“Albergo Imperiale” in its stead. He was then told that the Emperor did

not rule in Genoa, and so he next stuck up the arms of the republic,

with the motto “Libertas,” and he calls his inn “La Libertà.”

* * * * *

Prince Chigi, who was condemned to perpetual imprisonment for attempting

to poison Cardinal Carandini, resided at Genoa, and went by his own

name. He paid a visit to Signor Bernardo Pallavicini, brother of the

Doge, and was lodged at the “Santa Marta” (La Libertà). His servants

cooked for him in his own apartments. Mr. Devonport, who had rooms near

his, complained of the noise of scraping pots and dishes, and was

answered by the people of the house that they had made the same

objections, but had been told that the Prince had hired the rooms and

would cook as he pleased.

* * * * *

Signora Marina Spinola having arranged to marry her daughter to the

son of Signor Dominico Serra, said she did not mention the

circumstance to her till all was settled, because the young man is

agreeable; but had he been ugly, she would have told her at once, to

accustom her to the idea. One Sunday the bridegroom went with his

father and mother and all their family, even to nephews and nieces, to

visit the bride, Signora Spinola having also invited her relations to

be present on the occasion. The visitors arrived about half-past five,

when the young lady was to kiss the hand of her future mother-in-law,

which the latter was to endeavour to prevent: however, she succeeded

very dexterously in doing it. Signora Serra went away early, but left

the sposo, telling Signora Spinola that he would stay till she sent

him away. This puzzled Signora Spinola, but she arranged the matter

with Signor Cheeco Viale, who, at half-past seven, told the young man

it was time to walk home. All the time of the visit the latter sat on

a sofa beside the young lady, talking to her on indifferent subjects.

The next day Signora Spinola, her husband, and a friend, went to

return the visit of Signora Serra, when the latter requested her to

charge herself with the care of providing the marriage outfit—which is

always furnished by the parents of the bridegroom—excusing herself on

the plea of ill health and the absence of her daughter. She added,

that she intended to spend as much as she had done for the daughter of

Prince Doria, who was married to another of her sons. Signora Spinola

at first demurred to spending another person’s money, but finally

accepted the commission. In the contract it was to be inserted that

the marriage should take place before September, and the Serra family

wished it to be in June. The young man was to be dispensed from the

ancient custom of watching to meet the young lady whenever she went

out with her mother, and he was to be allowed now and then to visit at

the house. They were to live with Signora Spinola for a year and a

half, or two years, until a house could be fitted up for them.

* * * * *

The King and Queen of Naples were wonderfully pleased with Rome, though

they had taken a prejudice against it. They were magnificently treated

at the Pontine Marshes at the Pope’s expense. The carriage of the gold

plate, provisions, &c., alone cost 150 crowns, and the dinner itself not

less than 600 crowns. When General Acton met the King on the frontier,

he asked if his Majesty would take any refreshment, but the King

declined, saying that he had eaten enough for three days. At Rome they

invented a conversation, supposed to have taken place between the Pope,

the King and Queen of Naples, General Acton, and the Queen’s Confessor.

The Pope says, “Io concedo tutto;” the King, “Io voglio tutto quel che

vuole la Regina;” the Queen, “Io voglio tutto;” Acton, “Io rubo tutto;”

the Confessor, “Io assolvo tutto;” and the Devil, in a corner of the

picture, “Io porto via tutti.”

* * * * *

The marriage contract of Signora Costanza Falconieri and Count Onesti

was signed on Thursday, the 31st of May. There were twenty-four

Cardinals present, chiefly creations of this Pope, the four prelates in

the principal charges that lead to the red hat—that is, the Governor,

the Maggiordomo, the Auditore della Camera, and the Treasurer, but as

the latter was already a Cardinal, he could not sign the contract, and

therefore deputed Monsignor Doria to do so in his place. Twenty-two

o’clock (six P.M.) was the hour, and Signora Mobilia had the candles

lighted, that the ceremony might be more imposing. * * * Early on the

morning of Monday, June 4, the sposa, accompanied by her mother and

grandmother, &c. &c., went to the Vatican, where the Pope said mass in

the Chapel Sestina. After hearing a second mass, he married his nephew

and the young lady, making an exhortation twenty-two minutes in length.

He began by giving good advice to the sposa, and then addressed the

sposo, and afterwards himself, saying that it was in that place (the

Sestine Chapel) he was first married to the Church, and lamenting the

many errors he had committed since he was Pope, notwithstanding his most

ardent desires for the good of the Church. There were no ladies present

but those of the family, many of whom were of all conditions. After the

ceremony they went down to the Maggiordomo’s apartments, where a

collation had been prepared, and then proceeded to the church of San

Marcello, in the Corso, to pay their devotions in the chapel of the

Beata Giulia Falconieri, an ancestor of the family, and a considerable

saint. They next made their devotions at the little church of the

Bergamaschi, in the Piazza Colonna, and thence repaired to the house of

the sposo, Palazzo Braschi, where they all remained an hour and a half,

and afterwards dined at the Palazzo Falconieri. The Senatress told the

sposa she gave her joy on her wedding, and also on the presents she had

received. “I had not so many when I married the Pope’s nephew; but

then,” added she, “_I_ did not want them.” An Abbé, standing at Count

Braschi Onesti’s door when they came home from the marriage, exclaimed:

“What a fine breed of horses he has brought with him from Cesena!” They

were so enraged at this speech that they had him arrested and sent to

prison. The Prince Borghese presented Count Onesti with a pair of fine

horses. Some said that the latter asked for them, and others that he

offered to buy them, but that the Prince answered they were for his own

use. However, he understood the Count’s meaning, and sent them off to

the Maggiordomo.

* * * * *