enough. She looked handsome--very wide awake--still continues to call me
Madame la Comtesse, so I have given up correcting her. She is well up on
all subjects, particularly art, music, pictures, etc. She was rather
amusing over the state of society and all the great Roman ladies whom
she didn't know (there is such a division between the Government people
and the old Romans) but said she had a very pleasant entourage with all
the diplomatists and the distinguished strangers (with a little bow to
me) and really didn't notice the absence of the grandes dames. She asked
me about my audience with the Queen--had we been able to talk to her at
all. She had been so tired lately and nervous that any attempt at
conversation was an effort. I told her that on the contrary she talked a
great deal, and that I didn't find her changed.
Maffei came up and talked--asked me if I really liked Rome better as it
used to be--I must surely prefer life to stagnation. He speaks English
well, and likes to speak. They tell me that all the present generation
of Romans speak English perfectly--much better than French. There was a
small reception after dinner, some of the young diplomatists and
political men. We came away early--10.30, and plunged into our Paris
letters, of which we found quantities.
Friday, April 2, 1880.
It is raining quite hard this morning, so I will write and not go out
until after breakfast. Yesterday was beautiful, and we had a charming
day at the races. I drove out with Madame de Wimpffen in her
victoria--W. and Wimpffen together. I wore my brown cloth with the coat
trimmed with gold braid and a great bunch of yellow roses on my hat, but
I was sorry I hadn't sent for something lighter, as almost all the women
were in white. I had thought of having two dresses sent by the "valise"
(I hadn't time to have them sent by ordinary express). I consulted
Noailles, who was very amiable, and said he would do what he could, but
that the rules were very strict now for the "valise," as there had been
such abuse. I rather protested, so he remarked with a twinkle in his eye
that I had better speak to my husband, as he was the Minister who had
insisted on a reform being made--he added that it was Princess Lise
Troubetzkoi who made the final scandal--that when St. Vallier was French
Ambassador to Berlin she was always sending things to Petersburg, via
Berlin, by the "valise." When the "petit paquet" she had spoken of
turned out to be a grand piano there was a row, and W., who was then
Foreign Minister, decreed that henceforth no "paquets" of any kind that
were not on official business could be sent by the "valise." I suppose a
pink tulle ball dress would hardly come under that head.
The Queen was there looking very well and bright, dressed in light grey
with a big black hat--very becoming. There were a great many pretty
women. We came away before the end and drew up a little distance from
the gate where a long string of carriages was waiting to see the Queen
pass. The cortege was simple--first two dragoons, then a "piqueur" and
her carriage with four horses, postillion and two servants behind in the
scarlet liveries. The Countess Marcello was seated alongside of the
Queen--two gentlemen (I couldn't make out who they were) facing her; a
second carriage with two horses with two gentlemen in it followed, all
very well turned out. The scarlet liveries make a great effect, one sees
them from such a distance. The crowd was very respectful--not
particularly enthusiastic. The Queen bowed right and left very prettily.
I talked to lots of people at the races--among others to Madame Alphonse
Rothschild who is here for a few days, and to Mesdames Somaglia,
Rignano, Celleri, etc. I walked about a little with Sant' Asilea, but it
was not easy to move--most of the ladies stayed quietly in the tribunes.
We stopped at Nazzari's coming back and W. treated us all to tea--then
we sent our carriage away as we wanted it at night for the Teano ball,
and we walked about in the Corso, looking at all the turn-outs. The
Teano four-in-hand was very handsome, and there were one or two others
we couldn't make out which were very well turned out--some of the
victorias, too, very smart, with handsome stepping horses. The Corso was
full of people waiting to see the "retour"--it looked so gay. About
eleven we went off to the Teano ball, which was most brilliant--all the
societe there. Again I was sorry I hadn't sent for another dress as my
red satin looked heavy and wintry. Princess Teano in white, with a
diamond tiara, looked charming. Of course all the young generation who
were dancing were strangers to me, but I met many old friends. I had
quite a talk with Doria who wanted to be introduced to W. whom he had
not yet seen. We stayed until 1.30, and when we came away they were just
beginning the cotillon. In the old days we used to arrive at the balls
about 12.30 or 1 o'clock just so as to have one waltz before the
cotillon which was usually the best of the evening, as all the serious
people had gone, and the mammas were at supper fortifying themselves for
the long hours before them, so the ball-room was comparatively empty and
one could get a good turn.
Saturday, April 3, 1880.
It is a beautiful morning, so was yesterday, an ideal Roman day--the sky
so blue and just a soft little air that makes the awnings over the shops
opposite flap lazily and indisposes one to any exertion. We walked about
a little before breakfast, inspected the Fountain of Trevi where Neptune
sits in state, looking at the rush of water falling over the rocks and
splashing into the great marble basin. The water is beautifully clear,
and sparkled and glistened in the sunlight. There were a good many
people about--girls with pitchers on their heads, old men and women with
pails and cans, all after water. The Trevi water is considered the best
in Rome and is in great demand. We loitered about in the small narrow
streets that branch off in every direction, always seeing something
interesting. I think we lost our way as we found ourselves down by
Trajan's Column and Forum, but we managed to get back to the Piazza di
Spagna in good time for breakfast.
We started again in the afternoon for tea at the Farnesina Palace with
the Duke di Ripalda. We stopped at the Farnese Palace to pick up Madame
de Noailles, who was coming too, and we had a charming afternoon.
Ripalda took us all over the Palace, and W. was delighted with the
frescoes, particularly Sodoma's. The garden was lovely, though they have
cut off a great piece for their quays and works along the river. They
are enlarging the Tiber, making great walls, etc. The City of Rome gave
Ripalda a large sum of money, but he is much disgusted as it had taken a
good bit off his garden. More people came in--the wife of the Peruvian
Minister, a very pretty woman, and one or two men. We had tea in the
long gallery with all Raphael's and Carracci's beautiful gods and cupids
over our heads. How many different scenes they must have looked down
on--not always so peaceful as this quiet party.
Saturday evening, April 3, 1880, 10 P.M.
We went to the German Embassy on our way home to write ourselves down
for the German Crown Princess, who had just arrived there for a short
stay. I hope I shall see her--W. admires her so much. He saw her often
when he was in Berlin for the Congress, and found her most sympathetic
and charming. Turkam Bey came in just before dinner and had a great deal
to say about the Khedive, and what France would have done if he had
resisted, retired up the country, and obliged the French and English to
depose him by force. It was evident that the suite had been talking to
him, and talking very big--he was very anxious to have a categorical
answer. W. said very quietly they had never considered that emergency,
as it was quite evident from the beginning that the Khedive had no
intention of resisting. "Cependant, monsieur, s'il avait voulu," etc.,
so W. could only repeat the same thing--that they had never been anxious
on that point.
We dined quietly at home, and in the course of the evening there came a
note from Keudell, the German Ambassador (whom we don't either of us
know), saying that "par ordre de Son Altesse Imperiale la Princesse
Hereditaire d'Allemagne" he had the honour to ask M. and Madame
Waddington to dine to-day at 7.30 at the Embassy "en petit comite." We
should find a small party--the Wimpffens and Pagets. The Princess only
arrived on Thursday, and W. is much pleased that she should have thought
of us at once. Keudell has been ill with gout ever since we have been
here. We have never once seen him, but various people told W. he
regretted so much not seeing him, that the other day we tried to find
him, but the porter said he was still in his room.
Sunday, April 4, 1880.
Our dinner was charming. I was not a bit disappointed in the Princess.
W. had talked so much about her that I had rather made up my mind I
should find her very formal and German--and she isn't either one or the
other. We left a little after seven (I wearing black satin). I am so
bored with always wearing the same dresses. If I had had any idea we
should go out every night I should have brought much more, but W. spoke
of "a nice quiet month in Rome, sight-seeing and resting." We were the
first to arrive. Keudell was at the door, introduced himself, and took
us into the large salon, where Madame Keudell was waiting. She looked
slight and rather delicate, and he really ill, so very white. He said he
had had a long, sharp attack of gout--had not been out for some time,
and was in the salon for the first time the day the Princess arrived.
While we were waiting for the others to come he showed us the rooms and
pictures. I recognised at once one of those pretty child's heads by Otto
Brandt like the one we have. He was much interested in knowing that we
had bought one so long ago, he thought Brandt had so much talent. There
was a grand piano, of course, as he is a fine musician. The Pagets and
Wimpffens came together almost, and as soon as they were there the
Princess came in. She had one lady with her and a "chambellan"--Count
Seckendorff. She was dressed in black, with a handsome string of pearls.
She is short, and rather stout, carries herself very well and moves
gracefully. We all made low curtseys--the men kissed her hand, Sir
Augustus Paget just touching the floor with his knee, the first time I
had seen a man kneel to any one in a salon. She received W. most
charmingly, and was very gracious to me--asked me at once why I didn't
accompany my husband to Berlin. I said, "Principally because he didn't
want me," which was perfectly true. He said when he was named
Plenipotentiary that it was all new ground to him, that he would have
plenty to do, and didn't want to have a woman to look after. He rather
protests now, but that is really what he said, and I certainly didn't
go. The dinner was pleasant enough. The Princess talked a great deal,
and as the party was small, general conversation was quite easy. The
talk was all in French, which really was very amiable for us--we were
the only foreigners present, and naturally if we hadn't been there every
one would have spoken German. After dinner she made a short "cercle,"
standing in the middle of the room, all of us around her, then made a
sign to W. to come and talk to her, sat down on the big sofa, he on a
chair next, and they talked for about half an hour. We all remained
standing. I asked Keudell about his piano. He told me that he liked the
Erard grand very much, but that they didn't stand travelling well. In a
few moments the Princess told us all to sit down, particularly Keudell,
who looked quite white and exhausted. I sat by Madame Keudell, and as
she is very fond of Italy, and Rome in particular, we got on very well.
When the Princess had finished her talk with W. she came over and sat
down by me--was most charming and easy. She has the Queen's beautiful
smile, and such an expressive face. We spoke English; she asked me if I
had become very French (I wonder?)--that she had always heard American
women were so adaptable, taking at once their husband's nationality when
they married foreigners. She had always remained very fond of England
and English ways--the etiquette and formality of the German Court had
tried her at first. She asked me, of course, how many children I
had--said one was not enough. "If anything should happen to him, what
would your life be?" and then spoke a great deal about the son she lost
last summer by diphtheria, said he was the most promising of all her
children, and she sometimes thought she never could be resigned. I said
that her life was necessarily so full, she had so many obligations of
all kinds, had so many to think about, that she would be taken out of
herself. "Ah, yes, there is much to do, and one can't sit down with
one's sorrow, but the mother who has lost her child carries a heavy
heart all her life." It was all so simply said--so womanly. She said she
was very glad to meet W. again, thought he looked very well--was sure
the change and rest were doing him good. She regretted his departure
from the Quai d'Orsay and public life generally. I told her he was still
a Senator, and always interested in politics. I didn't think a few
months' absence at this time would affect his political career much, and
that he found so much to interest him that he really didn't miss the
busy, agitated life he had been leading for so long. She said she
intended to spend a quiet fortnight here as a tourist, seeing all she
could. She then talked to all the other ladies, and about ten said
she was tired and would go to her own rooms. She shook hands with the
ladies, the men kissed her hand, and when she got to the door she turned
and made a very pretty curtsey to us all. We stayed on about a quarter
of an hour.
[Illustration: Victoria, Crown Princess of Germany.]
The Wimpffens have arranged a dinner for her on Thursday (to which she
said she would like to have us invited), just the same party with the
addition of the Minghettis. As we were going on to Madame Minghetti's
reception, Countess Wimpffen asked us to tell them to keep themselves
disengaged for Thursday, as she wanted them for dinner to meet the
Princess--she would write, of course, but sent the message to gain time.
They brought in tea and orangeade, and I talked a little to Count
Seckendorff--he speaks English as well as I do. He told me the Princess
was quite pleased when she heard W. was here, and hoped to see him
often. We hadn't the courage to stay any longer--poor Keudell looked
ready to drop--and started off to the Minghettis'.
It was a beautiful, bright night, and the Capitol and all its
surroundings looked gigantic, Marcus Aurelius on his big bronze horse
standing out splendidly. We found a large party at Madame
Minghetti's--principally political--not many women, but I should think
every man in Rome. Alfieri, Visconti Venosta, Massari, Bonghi, Sella,
Teano, etc. It was evidently a "centre" for the intelligent, serious men
of all parties. There was quite a buzz, almost a noise, of talking as we
came in--rather curious, every one seemed to be talking hard, almost
like a meeting of some kind. They were all talking about the English
elections, which apparently are going dead against the Ministry.
Minghetti said it was quite their own fault--a cabinet that couldn't
control the elections was not fit to live. Of course their time was
over--there was no use in even attempting a fight--they had quite lost
their hold on the country. Madame Minghetti seems as keen about politics
as her husband. She has many friends in England. I told her about the
Wimpffen dinner--they will go, of course. She asked a great deal about
the Princess--said she was very glad she had decided to come to Rome,
that she couldn't help being interested and distracted here, which she
needed, as she was so upset by her son's death. We talked music--she
sings very well--and we agreed to sing together some afternoon, perhaps
at the German Embassy, as Keudell is a beautiful musician and loves to
accompany.
Mrs. Bruce was there and I sat down by her a little while, looking at
the people. She pointed out various political swells, and a nice young
Englishman (whose name I didn't catch) joined us, saying he wished he
understood Italian, as it was evident the group of men around Minghetti
was discussing English politics, and he would so like to know what they
were saying. Mrs. Bruce told him it was just as well he didn't
understand, as, from the echoes that came to her, she didn't believe it
was altogether complimentary to John Bull. I don't believe political men
of any nationality ever approve any ministry. It seems to me that as
soon as a man becomes a cabinet minister, or prominent in any way, he is
instantly attacked on all sides.
We didn't stay very long, as we had promised to go for a few moments to
the Farnese Palace, where the Noailles had also a reception. I had some
difficulty in extracting W. from the group of men. He naturally was much
interested in all the talk, and as almost all the men were, or had been
ministers, their criticisms were most lively. They appealed to him every
now and then, he having been so lately in the fray himself, and he was
a funny contrast with his quiet voice and manner to the animated group
of Italians, all talking at once, and as much with their hands as with
their tongues.
It was very late--after eleven--but we thought we would try for the
Noailles, and there were still many carriages at the door when we drove
up. We met so many people coming away, on the stairs and in the long
anteroom, that it didn't seem possible there could be any one left, but
the rooms were quite full still. The palace looked regal--all
lighted--and there were enough people to take away the bare look that
the rooms usually have. They are very large, very high, and scarcely any
furniture (being only used for big receptions), so unless there are a
great many people there is a look of emptiness, which would be difficult
to prevent. Madame de Noailles was no longer at the door, but I found
her seated in the end room with a little group of ladies, all smoking
cigarettes, and we had an agreeable half hour. Madame Visconti Venosta
was there, and another lady who was presented to me--Madame Pannissera,
wife of one of the "grand-maitres de ceremonie" at court. W. was at once
absorbed into the circle of men, also talking politics, English
elections, etc., but he was ready to come away when I made the move.
Noailles insisted upon taking me to the buffet, though I told him I had
done nothing but eat and drink since 7.30 (with a little conversation
thrown in). It was rather amusing walking through the rooms and seeing
all the people, but at 12.30 I struck. I really was incapable of another
remark of any kind.
I will finish this very long letter to-day. I wonder if you will ever
have patience to read it. I am sure I shouldn't if it were written to
me. I hope I shall remember all the things I want to tell when we get
back--so much that one can't write. My black satin was right--the
Princess was in mourning, the other ladies equally in black. W. wants me
to be photographed in the black dress and long veil I wore at the Pope's
audience. He found it very becoming, and thinks Francis ought to have
one; but it is so difficult to find time for anything.
Saturday, April 10, 1880.
We had a nice musical evening the other night at Gert's. All the vieille
garde turned up, Vera, Malatesta, Del Monte (with his violoncello), and
Grant. We sang all the evening, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. I was
sorry Edith Peruzzi couldn't come, as she sings so well, and it would
have been nice to have another lady. She has been nursing her mother,
who has been ill (so ill that they sent for Edith to come from
Florence), but she is getting all right now, and I don't think Edith
will stay much longer. Charles de Bunsen has arrived for a few days. We
took for him a room at our hotel, and we have been doing all manner of
sight-seeing. Thursday morning we went to the Accademia of San Luca,
where we had not yet been. It was rather interesting, but there is much
less to see than in the other galleries. There are some good busts and
modern pictures--a pretty Greuze.
[Illustration: Gardens of the Villa Torlonia, Formerly Villa Conti,
Frascati, Opposite the Villa Marconi, Where we Spent the Summer of
1867.]
Our dinner at the Wimpffens' was very pleasant. We arrived very
punctually at 7.20 and found the Keudells already there. He told us the
Princess was very tired, she had been all day in the galleries standing,
looking at pictures, and he didn't think she would stay late. He still
looked very tired and pale, but said he was much better and that the
royal visit did not tire him at all. The Princess was very considerate
and went about quite simply with her lady and Count Seckendorff. The
other guests arrived almost immediately--the Pagets, Minghettis,
Gosselins of the British Embassy, and Maffei, Under-Secretary of the
Foreign Office. About a quarter to eight the Princess arrived with her
lady and chamberlain, she was dressed in black, with a long string of
pearls. We went at once to dinner (which was announced as she entered
the room), Wimpffen of course taking the Princess, who had Minghetti on
her other side. Sir Augustus Paget took me, and I had Gosselin on the
other side. W. sat next Countess Wimpffen. The talk was easy and
animated, quite like the other day at the Palazzo Caffarelli (German
Embassy). The Princess talked a great deal to Minghetti, principally
art, old Rome, pictures, etc.--she herself draws and paints very well.
After dinner she sat down at once (said she didn't usually mind
standing, but the long days in the galleries tried her), made us all sit
down, and for about half an hour she was most charming, talking about
all sorts of things, and keeping the conversation general. When she had
had enough of _female_ conversation she said something in a low tone to
Lady Paget, who got up, crossed the room to where W. was standing, and
told him the Princess wished to speak to him. He came at once, of
course--she made him sit down, and they talked for a long time. She is
naturally a Protestant, but very liberal, and quite open to new ideas.
She was much interested in French Protestants--had always heard they
were very strict, very narrow-minded, in fact, rather Calvinistic. She
kept W. until she went away, early--about ten--as she was tired. She has
an extraordinary charm of manner. Her way of taking leave of us was so
pretty and gracious. She dines quietly at the British Embassy to-morrow
night, and when Lady Paget asked her who she would have, said: "Cardinal
Howard and Mr. Story." She wants to see all manner of men.
Yesterday we made our first excursion to Frascati, and most unpleasant
it was. We had chosen our day so as to have Charles Bunsen with us, and
one also when we had nothing in the evening, as one is so tired after
being out all day. We started about 9--in the carriage--W. and I, Gert
and Charles. It looked grey (was perfectly mild) and rather threatening,
but the hotel man and coachman assured us we should have no rain--merely
a covered day which would be more agreeable than the bright sun.
Schuyler promised to come out by train for breakfast. The drive out was
delicious, out of the Porta San Giovanni, the whole road lined with
tombs, arches, ruined villas, always the aqueducts on one side, and the
blue hills directly in front of us. The sun came out occasionally
through little bits of white clouds, and the Campagna looked enchanting,
almost alive. We passed close to the Osteria del Pino--where the meet
used to be often in old hunting days. It was so familiar as we drove up
the steep hill and recognised all the well-known places--the Pallavicini
villa at the side of the road, half-way up the hill; the Torlonia
gardens, and the gateway of the funny little town. We went straight to
the hotel, the same one as in our day, Albergo di Londra (that shows
what a haunt of "forestieri" it is), ordered breakfast, and then sallied
out for a walk.