Teano dinner, which was pleasant. Teano looked quite the same (I hadn't
seen him for years) with his tall, slight figure and white lock. (I
forgot to look if the boy had it.) She looked very handsome. We had the
Minghettis, a Polish Countess--sister-in-law of the Duc de Sermoneta,
the Calabrinis, and M. Heding, a German savant. Minghetti was
delightful, telling us his early experiences with the old Pope, Pio
Nono. He was killing over the entente between the government and the
monks for the suppression of the monasteries. The gendarmes arrived,
found barred doors and resistance. There was a sort of halt and
parley--one father came out, then another--a little livret of the Caisse
d'Epargne was put into their hands, and all went off as quietly as
possible. Heding seemed to think things wouldn't go so easily in
Germany, and they certainly wouldn't in France.
Madame Minghetti and I talked for a long time after dinner exchanging
our experiences of the official world, which I fancy is always the same
in all countries. Calabrini was of course his same courteous self--so
absolutely free from pose of any kind--rather unusual in a man who has
always had such a success.
This morning we went to Trajan's Forum, walked, W. as usual quite at
home, everywhere recognising old friends at every step. We looked at all
manner of inscriptions and basso-rilievos, and enjoyed ourselves very
much. This afternoon W. and Schuyler went off together to see some
churches and the Palazzo dei Cesari. I backed out, as I can't stand two
sight-seeings the same day with a dinner in prospect in the evening. I
went over to get Gert, and we drove about together, winding up at the
Comtesse Wimpffens, Austrian Ambassadress, who has a charming apartment
in the Palazzo Chigi (where Odo Russell used to live when we were in
Rome). There were various ladies there, the Marquise de Noailles,
French Ambassadress (who immediately asked me who made my dress, the
blue velvet that did all my visits the last year of the Quai d'Orsay),
Lady Paget, Madame Minghetti, and a sprinkling of secretaries and
attaches. Comtesse d'Aulnay, looking very pretty, very well dressed,
came in just as we were leaving. We wound up with a turn in the Villa
Borghese. There were grooms waiting at the gate with saddle horses, just
as our old Carmine used to wait for us. It is all so curiously familiar
and yet changed. I can't get accustomed to the quantities of people in
the streets where there never used to be any one--occasionally a priest,
or a few beggars, or a water-carrier. Now there are soldiers, people
carrying parcels, small employees, workmen, carts, carriages, life in
fact. There were quantities of people in the Villa Borghese. Some of the
carriages very well turned out, again very different from our days when
we knew every carriage, and when a new equipage or a new face made a
sensation.
W. has had a delightful afternoon looking at some of the very old
churches with Eugene. He had, too, a note from Desprez saying our
audience from the Pope would be to-morrow at one o'clock, and giving me
the necessary instructions for my veil, long black dress, etc. To-morrow
night we dine at the Noailles. The breakfast there the other day was
pleasant--no one but ourselves and Ripalda. Of course it is a
magnificent Embassy--the Farnese Palace--and they do it very well, but
it would take an army of servants to "garnish" these long anterooms and
passages, in fact ordinary servants are quite lost there; there ought to
be Swiss guards or halberdiers with steel cuirasses and lances which
would stand out splendidly from the old grey walls. One could quite
imagine an Ambassador of Louis XIV arriving with 100 gentlemen and
armed retainers in his suite. The famous room with the Caracci frescoes
must be beautiful at night. Ripalda asked us to come to tea one
afternoon at his palace on the Tiber, the "Farnesina." Marquise de
Noailles was charming.
Now I will say good-night, dear, for I am tired, and we have a busy day
to-morrow. I wonder if Leo XIII. will impress me as much as Pio Nono
did.
_To H. L. K._
ROME, HOTEL DE LONDRES,
Thursday, March 8, 1880.
The Piazza is delightful this morning, dear mother; it is bright and
warm, and there are lots of people starting for excursions with
guide-books, white umbrellas, and every variety of wrap. The coachmen of
the little botte look so smiling and interested, so anxious to make
things easy and comfortable. Vera came to see us yesterday, and told me
he was hailed by one of the coachmen from the top of his box, just as he
was crossing the Piazza, who said to him: "Sai Maestro, una di quelle
signorine King e tornata col marito?" (Do you know, master, one of those
King young ladies has come back with her husband?) He was much
amused--told him he was quite right, and that he was going to see that
same signorina. I dare say he had driven us often to one of the gates to
meet the saddle horses.
Yesterday was our udienza particolare (special audience), and most
interesting it was. Madame Hubert was madly excited dressing me. I wore
my black satin, long, with the Spanish lace veil I had brought in case I
should be received by his Holiness, and of course no gloves, though I
had a pair with me and left them in the carriage. We started at 12.30,
as our audience was at one, and got there quickly enough. I had
forgotten all the queer little courts and turns at the back of the
Vatican. Everything was ready for us; we were received really in royal
state--Swiss Guard, with their extraordinary striped yellow uniform
(designed, some one told us the other day, by Michelangelo), tall
footmen attired in red damask, Guardia Nobile, chamberlains, and two
monsignori. The garde noble de service was Felice Malatesta. He really
seemed much pleased to see me again, and to make W.'s acquaintance--swore
he would have known me at once, I was so little changed; but I rather
suspect if he hadn't known we were coming he wouldn't have recognised
me. We had a nice talk the few minutes we stood waiting in the room
adjoining the one where the Pope received us, and he gave me news of
all his family--Emilio (still unmarried), Francesco, etc.; then a door
was opened, a monsignore came out, bowed, and said his Holiness was
ready to receive us. We went in at once, the monsignore closing the
door behind us and leaving us alone with the Pope, who came almost
to the door to receive us, so that the three regulation curtseys
were impossible. There were three red and gold arm-chairs at one end of
the room, with a thick, handsome carpet in front of them. The Pope sat
on the one in the middle, put me on his right and W. on his left. He is
a very striking figure; tall, slight, a fine intellectual brow and
wonderfully bright eyes--absolutely unlike Pio Nono, the only Pope I had
ever approached. He was most gracious, spoke to me always in Italian,
said he knew I was an old Roman, and that we had lived many years in
Rome; spoke French to W., who, though he knows Italian fairly, prefers
speaking French. He asked W. all sorts of questions about home politics
and the attitude of the clergy, saying that as a Protestant his opinion
would be impartial (he was well up in French politics, and knew that
there were three Protestants in W.'s ministry: himself, Leon Say, and
Freycinet). W. was rather guarded at first (decidedly "banale," I told
him afterward), but the Pope looked straight at him with his keen,
bright eyes, saying: "Je vous en prie, M. Waddington, parlez sons
reserves."
We stayed about three-quarters of an hour, and the talk was most
interesting. The Pope is very anxious to bring about a better state of
feeling between the clergy and the people in France, and tries so hard
to understand why the priests are so unpopular; asked about the country
curate, who baptizes the children and buries the old people--surely
there must be a feeling of respect for him; said, too, that everywhere
in town or country the priests do so much for the sick and poor. W. told
him the women _all_ went to church and sent their children to the
catechism, but the men are indifferent, if not hostile, and once the
boys have made their first communion they never put their foot in a
church. "What will keep them straight and make good men of them, if they
grow up without any religious education?" The answer was
difficult--example and home teaching, _when_ they get it. Evidently he
had been curious to see W., and I think he was pleased. It was quite a
picture to see the two men--the Pope dressed all in white, sitting very
straight in his arm-chair with his two hands resting on the arms of the
chair, his head a little bent forward, and listening attentively to
every word that W. said. W. drew his chair a little forward, spoke very
quietly, as he always does, and said all he wanted to say with just the
same steady look in his blue eyes.
[Illustration: Pope Leo XIII.]
From time to time the Pope turned to me and asked me (always in Italian)
if politics interested me--he believed all French women were keen
politicians; also if I had found many old friends in Rome. I told him I
was so pleased to see Felice Malatesta as we came in, and that we were
going to meet Cardinal Howard one day at breakfast. I shouldn't think he
took as much interest in the social life of Rome as Pio Nono did. They
used always to say he knew everything about everybody, and that there
was nothing he enjoyed so much as a visit from Odo Russell, who used to
tell him all sorts of "petites histoires" when their official business
was over.
He also talked a good deal to W. about his uncle, Evelyn Waddington, who
lived in Perugia, where he was "sindaco" (mayor) for years. He married
an Italian lady, and was more than half Italian--curious for a man
called Evelyn Waddington. The Pope had known him well when he was Bishop
of Perugia.
We both kissed his hand when we took leave, and he said again to W. how
much he had been interested in all he told him. We lingered a few
minutes in the anteroom, as there was some idea Cardinal Nina would
receive us, but it had not been arranged. It seemed strange to be in
those high, bare rooms again, and reminded me of our visit to Cardinal
Antonelli years ago with father, when he showed us his collection of
gems. I remember so well his answer to Bessie Curtis (now Marquise de
Talleyrand-Perigord), who was looking out of the window, and said it was
such an enchanting view, would help one in "des moments de
decouragement." "On n'est jamais decourage, mademoiselle."
I imagine Leo XIII has very difficult moments sometimes.
W. wouldn't come out again as he had letters to write, so I stopped for
Gert, and we had a lovely turn in the Villa Pamphili. Quantities of
people--it looked very gay. We got home about six, and had visits until
it was time to dress for our dinner at the Wimpffens. D'Aulnay came
first, very anxious to hear about our audience at the Vatican; and
Tagliani, the auditeur of the old "nonce"; also Dr. Nevin.
Our dinner at the Wimpffens was very pleasant. Their apartment looks
very handsome lighted. There was a fine, pompous old porter at the door
downstairs, and plenty of servants and a "chasseur" upstairs. We had all
the personnel of the Embassy, the Calabrinis, Bibra (Bavarian Minister),
Van Loo (Belgian), and an Austrian whose name I didn't master, who had
been a minister in Andrassy's Cabinet. After dinner we all adjourned to
the smoking-room, which is very large and comfortable, lots of low
arm-chairs. The Austrian ladies smoked, and I talked to Bibra and Van
Loo, who told me all the diplomats had been rather struck with the
cordiality of our reception--that in general the Romans troubled
themselves very little about strangers. W. talked to Wimpffen and his
Austrian friend, who was much interested in hearing about our audience
with the Pope, and a little surprised that W. should have talked to him
so freely, both of them saying that his being a Protestant made things
much easier.
The Romans went off early, so W. went to Geoffroy (director of the Ecole
de Rome--French Archaeological Society), who receives Thursday evenings
at the Farnese Palace. He has an apartment quite up at the top of the
palace over the Noailles, and I went to Gert, who also received
Thursday. I found a good many people there--principally Americans, and
some young diplomats. So many people were introduced to me that I was
quite exhausted, and went and sat down by Aunt Mary, who looked very
handsome.
Sunday, March 10, 1880.
I shall not go out this morning. It is a little foggy--the first time
since we came here--and I was also lazy. We are going so perpetually.
Yesterday W. was off at nine in the morning with Geoffroy and Lanciani
for a classic tournee. I wrote one or two letters, and then Madame
Hubert and I walked over to Gert's and breakfasted. After breakfast
Monsignor English came in and had much to say about the Pope, and the
impression W. had made which he had heard from high personages of the
Vatican. I told him all about the interview, and he was much surprised
when I said we all sat down. W. came while he was still there, and of
course he wanted to hear his account, and was so pleased with all W.
said about the Pope, his marvellous intelligence and comprehension of
the present very difficult state of affairs in France. English also said
the Pope had been pleased with me (I did nothing but listen) so I
plucked up my courage, and asked him if he thought his Holiness would
give me a photograph _signed_--I should like so much to have one. He
said it would be difficult, as the Pope never _signed_ a photo--but
perhaps----. I should like one so much--I hope he will make an exception
for this heretic.
W. and I walked home, and then I dressed, and we started again for some
visits. We found Princess Bandini, who was most amiable--very pleased to
make W.'s acquaintance, also rather curious about the Vatican visit.
There were quantities of people there, principally diplomats and
English. W. thought the apartment very handsome.
We tried to find Madame Calabrini, but she was not receiving. We dined
at the Noailles. I wore my blue satin and all the diamonds I possess.
The apartment looked very ambassadorial--the great gallery lighted,
superb. The dinner was handsome--Wimpffens, Pagets, Uxkulls (Russian
Ambassador, you will remember him in Florence the year we were there),
Cairolis, Geoffroys, Schuylers, and various young men. Maffei, the
Under-Secretary of State, took me in, and I had Cairoli on the other
side. I didn't find him very easy to talk to. He doesn't speak French
very well, so I changed into Italian (which I am gradually getting back)
and then we got on better. I shouldn't think he was much of a ladies'
man, and never a brilliant talker. Maffei is very clever and amusing.
Gert sat just opposite, looking very well in yellow.
During the dinner Maffei called my attention to the menu "Cotelettes a
la Waddington," and asked me if W. was as much of an authority in cooks
as he was in coins. I disclaimed any such knowledge for him, and was
rather curious to see what the "cotelettes" would prove to be. They were
a sort of chaud-froid, with a thick, white envelope, on which was a
large W. in truffles. The whole table was rather amused, and Madame de
Noailles gave us the explanation. Her chef had been some time with us at
the Quai d'Orsay, and when he heard W. was coming to dinner was much
excited, and anxious to do honour to his old master--so he consulted
Madame de Noailles, and that was the result. I will keep the menu for
you.
After dinner we adjourned to the beautiful Carracci gallery, and there I
was presented to various ladies--Madame d'Uxkull (ci-devant Madame
Gheka), very handsome; and Madame Visconti Venosta, an attractive
looking woman with charming manners. I had quite a talk with Lady Paget,
who looks always very distinguished with her beautiful figure. She told
me Mrs. Edwards's baby had arrived--a little girl--to be called "Gay"
after her daughter.[18] I hope she will grow up as pretty as her mother.
I talked some time to Madame Cairoli who was very amiable and expansive,
called me always "Madame la Comtesse"; and offered me anything I wanted
from cards for the Chamber to a presentation to the Queen.
[18] Now the Hon. Sylvia Edwards, Maid of Honour to Queen Alexandra.
There was quite a reception in the evening--not many of the Roman
ladies. Marc Antonio Colonna came up--recalled himself, and introduced
me to his wife--very pretty, with splendid jewels. She is the daughter
of the Duke of Sant-Arpino, a very handsome man. Her mother, the
Duchess, an English woman, also very handsome, so she comes fairly by
her beauty. I walked about the rooms with Wimpffen, and he showed me all
the notabilities in the parliamentary world. Lady Paget asked us to go
to her on Sunday afternoon, and I promised Nevin we would go to his
church, but we didn't.
W. has just received an intimation that King Humbert will receive him
to-morrow at one o'clock, and I have told Madame Hubert to get out his
Italian decorations, as he always forgets to put them on, and it seems
in all courts they attach much importance to these matters. We are
starting now for a drive; first to the Villa Wolkonsky--I want to show
it to W., and we shall probably go in late to the British Embassy.
Monday, March 11, 1880.
The King gave W. his audience to-day at one. He went off most properly
attired, _with_ his Italian ribbon. He generally forgets to put on his
orders, and was decidedly put out one day in Paris when he arrived at a
royal reception _without_ the decoration the sovereign had just sent
him. The explanation was difficult--he could hardly tell the King he had
forgotten. W. got back again a little after two, and said the interview
was pleasant enough--the King very gracious, and he supposed, for him,
talkative; though there were long pauses in the conversation--he leaning
on his sword, with his hands crossed on the hilt as his father always
did--spoke about the Queen, said she was in Rome, and he believed Madame
Waddington had known her when she was Princess de Piedmont. I never was
presented to her--saw her only from a distance at some of the balls. I
remember her quite well at a ball at the Teanos in a blue dress, with
her beautiful pearls. I hope she will receive us. He talked less
politics than the Pope; said France and Italy, the two great Latin
races, ought to be friends, and deplored the extreme liberty of the
press; knew also that W. was in Rome for the first time, and hoped he
would have fine weather. He did not ask him anything about his interview
with the Pope. W. said the reception was quite simple--nothing like the
state and show of the Vatican. There was a big porter at the door of the
palace, two or three servants on the stairs, and two officers,
aides-de-camp, in the small salon opening into the King's cabinet.
Soon after he came in we had visits--Hooker, Monsignor English, a French
priest, head of St. Louis des Francais, and Del Monte, whom I hadn't yet
seen. He was so nice and friendly--doesn't look really much older,
though he says he feels so. I told him it seemed unnatural not to have a
piano. He would have brought his cello, and we could have plunged into
music and quite forgotten how many years had passed since we first
played and sang the "Stella Confidente."
[Illustration: King Humbert of Italy.]
After they had all gone we started out to the "Tre Fontane," taking Gert
with us to see the establishment of the French Trappists who are trying
to "assainir" the Campagna by planting eucalyptus trees. It is an
interesting experiment, but rather a dangerous one, as several of the
fathers have died. The summer here, with that deadly mist that rises
from the Campagna, must be fatal, and the two monks we saw looked yellow
and shrivelled with fever. However, they will persevere, with that
extraordinary tenacity and devotion of the Catholic priests when they
undertake anything of that kind. I carried off a bottle of Elixir of
Eucalpytus, for I am sorry to say these last bright days have given me
an unpleasant souvenir in the shape of a cold chill every now and then
between the shoulders, and evidently there is still truth in the Roman
proverb "Cuore di donna, onde di mare, sole di Marzo, non ti fidare."
(Don't trust a woman's heart, the waves of the sea, nor the March sun.)
We got home about half-past six, had tea and more visits--Calabrini,
Vitelleschi, and Princess Pallavicini, who was most animated, and talked
politics hard with W. We dined at home and had a little talk, just as we
were finishing dinner, with Menabrea, who was dining at a table next
ours. They say he will go to the Paris Embassy in Cialdini's place. W.
wouldn't go out again, so I went alone to Gert's, who had a few
people--Mrs. Van Rensselaer, clever and original; Countess Calice, an
American; her husband, a cousin of the Malatestas; Vera; young
Malatesta, a son of Francesco; a Russian secretary, and one or two
others. It was rather a pleasant evening. They had tea in the
dining-room--everybody walked about, and the men smoked.
Tuesday, March 13, 1880.
Yesterday morning W. and I had a good outing, wandering about the
Capitol. First we walked around Marcus Aurelius, then up the old worn
stone steps to the Ara Coeli. I told W. how we used to go there always
on Christmas Eve to see the Creche and the Bambino. It was very well
done, and most effective. The stable, beasts, shepherds, and kings (one
quite black with a fine crown). There were always children singing the
"storia di Gesu" and babies in arms stretching out their hands to the
lights. Yesterday the church was quite empty, as there is not much to
attract the ordinary tourist. We made our way slowly, W. stopping every
moment before an inscription, or a sarcophagus, or a fresco, to the room
of the "Dying Gladiator," which he found magnificent--was not at all
disappointed; afterward the faun--and then sauntered though all the
rooms. I had forgotten the two skeletons in one of the sarcophagi--the
woman's with rings on her fingers, most ghastly.
After lunch Countess Wimpffen came in to know if I would drive with her
to the Villa Borghese, and do two teas afterwards--Madame Cairoli and
Madame Westenberg (wife of the Dutch Minister, an American and a great
friend of Gert's); but I couldn't arrange it, as W. wanted to come with
me to the Affaires Etrangeres--so we agreed to go another day. I always
liked both Wimpffens so much when they were in Paris that it is a great
pleasure to find them here. Wimpffen likes to get hold of W. and talk
about France and French politics.
Our dinner at Mrs. Bruce's was very gay. I told her I didn't find her
salon much prettier than in our days when we lived on the first floor of
Perret's house (she on the second), and she always said we made Perret
send up to her all the ugly furniture we wouldn't have. What we kept
was so bad, that I think the "rebut" must have been something awful. We
had the Minghettis, Vitelleschis, Wurts, Wilbrahams, Schuylers, and one
or two stray Englishmen. Vitelleschi took me in, and I had Minghetti on
the other side, so I was very well placed. It is killing to hear them
talk politics--discussing all the most burning questions with a sort of
easy persiflage and "esprit de conciliation" that would astound our
"grands politiques" at home. Minghetti said the most absolutely liberal
man he had ever known was Pio Nono--but what could he do, once he was
Pope.
It was really a charming dinner--Mrs. Bruce is an ideal hostess. She
likes to hear the clever men discuss, and always manages to put them on
their mettle. We all came away about the same time, and W. and I went on
to the opera "Tor di None." Bibra had invited us to come to his box. The
house was much less "elegante" than the Paris house--hardly any one in a
low dress, no tiaras, and few jewels. The Royal box empty. Princess
Bandini was in the next box with Del Monte and Trochi. The Minghettis
opposite with the Wimpffens. The "salle" was badly lighted--one could
hardly make the people out.
W. had rather a shock--we had scarcely got in--(Bibra not yet come) when
the door opened and in came Maurizio Cavaletti--enchanted to see
me--seizing both my hands--"Maria mia adorata--cara regazza, etc.,"
utterly oblivious of "cara Maria's" husband, who stood stiff and cold
(an icicle) in the background, with Anglo-Saxon written all over him;
waiting for the exuberant demonstration to finish, and a presentation to
be made. As soon as I could I presented Monsieur le Marquis in proper
form, and explained that we were very old friends, had not met for
years, etc., but W. hardly thawed all the evening.