officiated as Head-Chamberlain, in the room of Signior[4] _Doria_, then
indisposed, he gave the Pope Notice that I attended, and he order'd me to
be immediately admitted. I left my Hat and Sword at the Door, according
to Custom. I found the Pope sitting under a Canopy, in an Elbow-chair,
ascended by three Steps, with his right Foot resting on a Cushion of red
Velvet. As I enter'd the Chamber, Signior _Acquaviva_ bid me kneel, which
I did, and the Pope gave me his Blessing. I then rose up, and approach'd
him as far as half the Length of the Chamber, when I kneel'd again, and
receiv'd the Pope's Blessing a second Time. Then I arose again, and coming
up close to the Pope, I kneel'd again, and receiv'd a third Blessing, all
which Blessings really did not cost his Holiness much Trouble; for they
consisted in no more than making a Sign of the Cross, without speaking one
Word. The Pope, who is talkative, but eloquent, ask'd me many Questions,
and recollected that he had known me when he was only a Cardinal. He was
extremely gracious, and I had reason to be satisfied with my Audience so
long as I had no Favour to ask. But the Moment that I put myself in the
Number of Petitioners, I saw the Pope's Countenance change; his Smiles
were turn'd into Frowns, and I could easily perceive that he had rather
have my Room than my Company. But being appriz'd beforehand, that his
Holiness was always uneasy at receiving Petitions, I proceeded without
omitting a Word of what I had to say to him. In going out of the Chamber,
I went backward, kneeling three times by the Way, as I had done at
Entrance, and the Pope at each time gave me his Blessing, which was all
that I got by my Audience; but I am preparing to desire another very soon;
for they say, the honest Pope loves to be importun'd, and therefore I will
gratify him in his own Way.
Indeed all that go to the Audience of the Holy Father fare no better than
I did, unless they are Princes, and even the Catholics must all kiss the
Pope's Toe. The Prince Regent of _Waldeck_, who was here not long ago,
went to an Audience of his Holiness, and was receiv'd in the same manner
as the Princes of _Brunswic_ had been formerly: He waited some Moments in
the Antichamber, and without being oblig'd to leave his Sword and Hat, as
those of his Retinue were, he was introduc'd by the _Major Domo_ to the
Pope, who receiv'd him seated on his Throne. The Prince did not kneel as
he enter'd, nor did the Pope, who ask'd him several Questions, and was
inform'd that he was a _Lutheran_, give him his Blessing: Before he
withdrew, the Prince desir'd the Pope, that he would give him leave to
introduce his Retinue to him; when one of his Gentlemen, scrupulous to the
last Degree, neither kneel'd, nor kiss'd the Pope's Foot. At _Geneva_
indeed he deserv'd to have his Statue erected, tho' here his Politeness
was call'd in question; but as for the Prince of _Waldeck_, all ROME was
charm'd with his obliging and polite Behaviour: He spent four or five
Months here, and liv'd handsomely. He apply'd himself to the Knowledge of
Antiques, and made a Collection of Stones finely cut, which, tho' not so
large as some are, is not the worse chosen; for he has discover'd a very
great Taste and Skill in Curiosities; and happy would it be for _Germany_
if all its Princes were like him.
The Prince of _Waldeck_ leads me to give you an Account of those
unfortunate Princes who are here call'd the King and Queen of _England_.
Perhaps you will not dislike to know what they are doing, and on what Foot
they stand here. That unfortunate Prince, which is a Title I think no body
can envy him, lives a very melancholy Life; and I question whether the
Pension which the Pope allows him of 12000 Crowns, is enough to make him
easy under his Afflictions: He lodges in the Palace of the Marquis
_Monti_, and has a great Number of Domestics, but few in his Service that
are Persons of Quality. My Lord _Dunbar_ is the chief Man at his Court,
since Mr. _Hayes_, to whom the Pretender gave the Title of my Lord
_Inverness_, retir'd to _Avignon_: This Gentleman is intrusted with the
Education of the young Princes, who are here styl'd the Prince of _Wales_,
and the Duke of _York_, and as lovely Children they both are as one shall
see.
The King, or the Pretender, it matters not, is complimented with the Style
of _Majesty_ by the Pope, and by all that have Access to him. He never
goes to an Audience of the Holy Father in public, but always by the
Back-stairs; and the Pope not only gives him an Arm-chair, but all the
Honours are paid to him that are due to a King who keeps _incognito_. When
the Cardinals visit him, he gives them the _Tabouret_, or little Stool;
but the Imperial Cardinals never go to see him, nor did they think fit to
do it, even at the Time when the Emperor seem'd to be more embroil'd with
the King of _Great Britain_ than ever; whereas the _French_ Cardinals go
to him every Day, and are always with him, notwithstanding the strict
Alliance between the King their Master, and the King of _Great Britain_.
When the eldest Prince, who is here styl'd the Prince of _Wales_, goes to
wait on the Pope, he is treated as the presumptive Heir of a Crown; he has
a Chair set for him with a Back to it, and takes Place of the Cardinals.
As to the younger Son, the pretended Duke of _York_, his Rank is not yet
settled, nor has he yet made a Visit to the Pope.
_The Pretender_ is of a middling Stature, but a mere Skeleton; and if I
may venture to say it, has nothing in his Looks of an Impostor: He is
prodigiously like the Pictures I have seen of the late King _James_ II.
his Father, only his Aspect is something more melancholy; but he is so far
from it in his natural Temper, that he is a Lover of Pleasures, and would
indulge himself in Gallantry, if he was not so strictly watch'd by the
Priests; for if the scandalous Chronicle does not belye him, Mrs. _Hayes_,
_alias_ Lady _Inverness_, had, for a while, the Honour of obliging him. If
one may guess at the Heart by external Appearances, he is sincerely
attach'd to the Religion which he professes, yet without being such a
Bigot as some will have him to be; for he causes his Children to be
educated by Protestants, and every _Sunday_ a Church of _England_ Minister
preaches in _English_ in the Protestant Chapel of his Palace: He is
extremely reserv'd at first to those with whom he is not acquainted, but
it wears off by Degrees; and when once he knows People, he is very
courteous and civil to them. I have the Honour to be often at his Table,
and I am bound to acknowledge his Favours to me.
His Table, which is commonly laid for a dozen Guests, is serv'd with what
is grand and delicate. The Queen eats at her own little Table. People are
seated at the King's Table without any Distinction of Rank, and he sits
himself between the two Princes his Sons: He talks a great deal at his
Meals, but the Tone of his Voice is not the most agreeable: His
Conversation runs generally upon common Topicks, and falls very naturally
upon his Misfortunes. All this Prince's Time is regularly divided; he
rises early, devotes the Morning to his Business, hears Mass before Noon,
when he goes to Dinner, and after sitting an Hour and half, or two Hours
at Table, takes a Nap; and then, unless it be a Saint's Day, when he goes
to Vespers, he walks out for the Air in some Garden or other without
ROME, where he exercises himself on Horseback, or else diverts himself at
Mall with his Sons, and his Gentlemen. In the Evening he returns to his
Palace, and receives Visits from the Cardinals; at Ten o'Clock he goes to
Supper, and at Midnight to Bed. During the Carnival he was almost every
Day at the Opera, where his Box being very large, he used to sup with the
Gentlemen and Ladies of his Court.
The Queen his Wife is a Princess, who deserves in reality to be a Queen;
and tho' not a sparkling Beauty, it may be said that her Person is
infinitely charming; she has indeed the Character of a most accomplish'd
Lady, and never was there a better natur'd Person with more Humility; she
is friendly, compassionate, charitable; her Piety is exemplary, and in
Truth, she leads the Life of a Saint, without affecting the Shew of
ceremonial Devotion; for she has nothing more at heart than to do good,
and her Love of one sublime Virtue is incredible; for tho' she is heartily
attach'd to her own Religion, she has no Rancour against those who differ
from her in Opinion, but would fain reclaim them by her good Example and
good Nature. Were she Mistress of a Kingdom, she would certainly make it
her Rule to discharge the Duties of her Rank as became it; and indeed,
Nature has given her great Advantages to acquit herself worthily in such a
Sphere; for she has a wonderful quick Comprehension, an admirable Memory,
and she speaks _Polish_, _High-Dutch_, _French_, _Italian_, and _English_
so well, that 'tis not easy to distinguish which of those Languages is
most familiar to her. I own to you, that of all the Princesses whom ever I
had the Honour to approach, I don't know one more deserving of the
Veneration of the Public. I should be glad to see her happy; and if that
Respect and Duty, from which I shall never depart, did not bind me so
strongly to the King and Queen of _Great Britain_, I could wish to see her
wear the Crown of the three Kingdoms.
You know that this Princess is Daughter to Prince _James Sobieski_, and by
consequence Cousin German to the Emperor, and the Queen of _Spain_, and
Niece to the Elector Palatine, and the Queen of _Spain_, Widow of
_Charles_ II. Yet all this did not protect her from being arrested at
_Inspruck_, when she pass'd that Way to _Italy_, to be married to the
Pretender; she was kept in very close Custody, and the Manner of her
Deliverance shews the Superiority of her Genius. The Pretender sent Mr.
_Gaydon_, then a Major in the Service of _France_, to try if he could
procure her Liberty; the said Officer went to _Inspruck_, accompany'd by
Mr. _Wogan_, an _English_ Gentleman, and one _Misset_, an _Irishman_, who
carry'd his Wife with him. They arriv'd accordingly at _Inspruck_ with a
great Retinue, and there they pass'd for People of Consequence: They
contriv'd so that their Coach Wheels broke at the Gate of the City, to
give them a Pretence for staying in the Town till their Coach was
repair'd: They introduc'd themselves into all Assemblies, and found out a
Nun whom they brib'd to deliver Letters to the Princess. Having fix'd on
the Day for carrying her off, and even appointed the Hour, which was
Eleven at Night, they got a young Woman of the Princess's Stature to pass
thro' the Guards in the Antichamber, and to lie in the Prisoner's Bed, who
for two Days had pretended to be sick. The Princess put on the Girl's
Cloaths, and in that Disguise went out of her Apartment, pass'd thro' her
Guards, and made up towards _Misset_, who gave a Whistle opposite to the
Convent, as had been agreed on beforehand, that she might know whom to
apply to. The Princess was conducted to an Inn, and as it had snow'd a
great deal, and was very dirty and dark, she happen'd to step into a
Slough; one of her Shoes stuck so fast in the Mud, that she was oblig'd to
leave it behind her, and to walk only with one Shoe on to the Inn. From
thence, without giving herself Time to change her Stockings, she went, wet
and draggled as she was, into a Coach, where Mrs. _Misset_ and Mr.
_Gaydon_ had the Honour to sit with her. _Wogan_ rode by the Side of the
Coach, and _Misset_ stay'd two Hours longer at _Inspruck_, to see whether
any Discovery was made of the Princess's Flight. The Silence of the Guard
was such, that he believ'd they knew nothing of the Matter, so that he
rode after the Princess, but kept two Post-Stages behind, in order to
watch if they were not pursued, which was a very good Precaution; for
early next Day it was found out that the Princess had made her Escape; and
the Commandant at _Inspruck_ immediately sent off Messengers to all the
great Roads, with Orders to all the Officers of the Country to apprehend
the Fugitive. _Misset_ being overtaken by one of those Messengers, he
travell'd a little way with him, and resolv'd either to make him drunk, or
to knock him on the Head. Having provided himself beforehand with a
certain intoxicating Drug which immediately bereaves People of their
Senses, and throws them into a profound Sleep, he gave some of it to the
Messenger; and when he found him doz'd, he took away his Dispatches, and
went and overtook the Princess, who, after travelling three Days and three
Nights successively, without Rest, was got into the Dominions of the Holy
See.
Arriving at _Bologna_, she there found my Lord _Dunbar_, vested with a
Proxy from the Pretender, then in _Spain_, to marry her; which Ceremony
was accordingly perform'd there without much Pomp, and the Princess set
out in a few Days for _Rome_. My Lady _Marr_, accompany'd by all the
_English_ of both Sexes that were at ROME of the Pretender's Party, went
in that Prince's Coaches to meet the Princess; and the Cardinals, the
_Roman_ Princes, and all the Nobility likewise sent their Coaches. Thus
did the Princess make her public Entry into ROME, where she was receiv'd
with great Marks of Respect; and there she was, not long after, join'd by
her Husband[5].
While I am speaking of the Pretender, I ought not to omit acquainting you
of a certain Prophecy in every body's Mouth here, which was said to be
found among the Papers of the late Pope, importing, that in the Year 1734,
the Pretender should be in the peaceable Possession of the Throne of
_Great Britain_; but I would not give much Money for his Hopes[6]. Be this
as it will, the Prophecy is as follows:
Dum _Marcus cantabit Hallelujah,
Et Antonius Veni Creator,
Et Joannes Baptista cænabit,
Tune regnabit et triumphabit Rex in Anglia Jacobus_ III.
_i. e._
_When Easter falls on St. Mark's Day,
And Whitsunday on St. Antony's of Padua,
And when St. John the Baptist's is a Sacrament Day,
Then King James +III.+ shall reign and triumph in England._
Thanks to God, the Carnival is ended; I say, Thanks to God, because it was
to me very tiresom, tho' it lasted here, according to an establish'd
Custom, but a Week. During all that Time, from Two o'Clock in the
Afternoon till Sun-set, all the Streets were full of Masquers, some on
Foot, and some in open Chaises: The former say a thousand silly Things,
and the latter throw Meslin in one another's Eyes by Handfuls; but the
best on't is, that either by their Cloaths, or their Equipage, every body
is known. Besides, the Pageantry of the _Romans_ is always the same, even
in Masquerades; they dress up their Domestics like Harlequins, and make
them follow them with their Faces bare. They thus rake the Air gravely in
open Chariots made like Gondolas. Their Horses are adorn'd with Plumes of
Feathers, and loaded with little Bells like ours in the Sled Races. In the
Evening the Coaches range themselves in two Rows in the Street _del
Corso_, which is besides pretty narrow, and there they see the Race of
Barbs, which are five or six Horses, that are suffer'd to run loose
without a Rider, from the Gate _del Popoli_ to a Place beyond the
_Venetian_ Palace. The poor Beasts gallop thro' the Shouts and Cries of
the Populace, and are often crippled by striking themselves against the
Coaches. The first of these Horses that reaches the Goal wins a Prize for
his Master, which generally consists of a Piece of Cloth of Gold, and at
Sun-set every body retires. Mean time a _Roman_ will tell you, that the
Carnival of ROME is the finest in the World.
But the thing of which they brag most, and which they believe is no-where
to be parallell'd for Magnificence, is their Balls, of which you shall now
be Judge: Several Gentlemen having clubb'd this Winter for the Hire of the
Palace _Barberini_, near the _Mount of Piety_, and caus'd it to be
furnish'd by the _Jew_ Brokers; when the Day was fix'd for the Ball, they
invited all the Ladies; and as to the Gentlemen, they had the Liberty of
appearing there mask'd, provided they made themselves known at the Door:
All the Rooms were small, and but poorly lighted; there were several
Pieces of Dancing to the Music of five or six Violins: The Room design'd
for the principal Nobility was encompass'd with Forms, and the Place for
the Dancers was an oval Nook rail'd in. A Gentleman of the Company that
gave the Ball stood at the Entrance of the Oval; they gave him the Title
of Master of the Hall, and 'twas he that call'd out the Dancers. All the
Ladies were mask'd at this Ball, which was call'd a Feast, but I know not
why; for there were Glasses indeed, but there was nothing to eat or drink.
The Ladies were all very gay, and some of them in Court-Dresses. I have
been twice at these pretended Entertainments, but was so tir'd, and in
such Danger of being press'd to Death, that I don't care to go again; for
which reason the _Romans_ say, I have not an elegant Taste.
Neither am I very well reconcil'd to their Plays, of which indeed here are
none all the Year, except during the Carnival; but then we had two
Opera-Theatres, and four or five for Comedy. Of all these Theatres there's
but one that's good for any thing, and that's the Ladies Theatre, commonly
call'd the Theatre of _Aliberti_ because 'twas built by Order of one Count
_Aliberti_. The Room is excessively large, so that the Voices are lost in
it; it has seven Rows of Boxes, so low and little, that it makes the Room
look like a Henroost; the Pit will hold 900 Persons with Ease: The Stage
is spacious, very high, and fitely decorated; but they don't shift the
Scenes with that Dexterity as they do at our Play-houses, yet, when the
whole is put together, the Place is not to be despised: The Habits of the
three principal Actors are magnificent, but those of the rest are
horrible. Their Voices are good, and so are their Instruments for the most
part; but their Dancers are too bad to behold, and you can't imagine any
thing more hideous: The Women are in the Disguise of Men, out of a
ridiculous Scruple, if I may venture to call it so, which they have here,
that Women should not be seen at the Theatres. This is the Reason, that
the Operas of ROME are vastly inferior to the other Operas of _Italy_.
There is not perhaps a more ridiculous Sight, than to see these Creatures,
who are but half Men, play the Parts of Women; yet, tho' they have neither
Air nor Gracefulness, they are applauded here as much as the best
Actresses are elsewhere. Tho' I am passionately fond of the _Italian_
Music, yet I own to you, that I am disgusted with their Operas, when I see
those Eunuchs play the Part of a _Roland_, a _Hercules_, or some such
Hero; and I have not Patience to see no more than half a dozen Actors, no
Machines, and no Dances, except in the Interludes. In my Opinion, such an
Opera rather deserves the Name of a Concert; good Voices here are very
scarce, and there are actually but five or six Men, and three Women, that
have the Reputation of singing well. The Case is the very same with the
Composers; they have just lost one of the ablest Men of that Class; _viz.
Leonard Vinci_, who, they say, was poison'd at _Naples_; but there are
still remaining M. _Hass_, commonly call'd the _Saxon_, and _Signior
Purpora_, of whom the former is a _German_, who married the famous
_Signiora Faustina_.
While I am giving you an Account of the Pleasures of ROME, I ought not to
omit the Inundations of the Square _Navona_, which are perform'd on the
four _Sundays_ in the Month of _August_. Two Thirds of the Square being
then laid under Water, it forms a Lake, in which the Coaches make a Ring.
The adjacent Windows are full of Spectators, and the Fronts of the Houses
are crowded by the Populace, who make hideous Shouts and Outcries, when a
Coach happens to take in a little Water, or when one overturns, which
sometimes is the Case. The oddest Thing of all to my Mind is, that while
the People were intent upon seeing the Coaches pass, and playing a
thousand Pranks, a Jesuit, mounted upon a Rail at the other End of the
Square, bawl'd out in vain for an Audience of Penitents; and tho' very
few, if any body, heard him, yet he went on haranguing, and 'twas not his
Fault that every body did not forsake all to hear him. About twenty Paces
from the Preacher was a Mountebank, who, by the comical Jests and Actions
of his _Merry-Andrew_, drew a much greater Audience to him than the Jesuit
had.
Are not these now very inchanting Pleasures? Yet a _Roman_, who never
pass'd the _Ponte Mole_, as there are a great many who have not, will tell
you there are none like those of ROME. But I affirm that the _Romans_
don't know what Diversion is; for in those Parties of Pleasure where
reigns the greatest Freedom, there's always an Air of Constraint, which
one does not see elsewhere: Nor does a free Deportment become them,
insomuch that when they assume such a Carriage, they naturally forget
Politeness, which besides is not what they are much used to; for they know
how to be respectful, much more than to be polite. The Way to be
acquainted with them thoroughly, is to visit them at their Country-Seats,
where they are more frank, less ceremonious, and more sociable, and where
they live much better than they do at ROME, at least they feed better; and
I will even venture to say, that they there spend high, but they get not
the Credit by such Living which they ought, because they don't set it off
to the best Advantage; and if I am not too much prejudiced, it seems to
me, that they grudge the Expence. The most sumptuous Article of their
Repasts is Deserts, and they have excellent Cooks and Butlers; but as for
us _Ultramontains_, we are not quite so well used to their Method of
Cookery.
I know not whether 'tis the Depravity of my Taste, or the Want of
Discernment; but I cannot conceive what Motives, except Devotion or
Curiosity, can bring any Man to ROME, than which there is hardly a more
melancholy City in the World: Yet I know some Foreigners, and in
particular certain _Englishmen_, who are fond of ROME to a Degree of
Enthusiasm. I strive to think as they do, and would fain persuade myself,
that the Life which they lead here is agreeable; but I can't be of that
Opinion, nor can I accustom myself to take up Manners and Customs so
contrary to ours. At my Age, 'tis a hard Matter to fall into a new Taste
and Fashion of Living: Those of ROME don't agree with me, and I foresee
they never will; yet if by Chance I should meet with any Pastime here, I
promise you, I'll revoke my Complaints, and give you an Account of my
Pleasures, as I do of my Chagrin.
The People here rise late, and go to Bed late; the first Thing which they
do is to drink Chocolate; then they hear Mass in their domestic Chapel, of
which almost every House has one: They afterwards make some Visits, return
home at Dinner-time, undress, and dine frugally with their Families. After
their Meal they get between the Sheets, and sleep for an Hour or two; and
after that, loiter away as much in doing nothing at all; but then they
dress, and go the Ring, which is without the Gate _del Popoli_; from
thence to the _Ponte Mole_ there's a Walk, which is very sorrily pav'd,
between two Walls, and some pitiful Houses; and there's no Air, but Dust
enough to choak one. When the Sun is upon its Decline, the _Beau Monde_
repairs to the Square, or Place _d'Espagne_, where I think I have already
told you how they amuse themselves. From the Square they go and make their
Visits of Ceremony: At Two o'Clock at Night, which in the long Days in
Summer is about Ten with us, they fall into _Assemblies_. These may be
divided into three Classes, the great Companies for Gaming, the private
Companies where they also play, and the Societies in which they only
converse. Neither of the three are very numerous, which is owing to the
Difference between the Princesses and the Ladies, and to the Fondness of
all the Ladies to have Company at their own Houses.