May 25th, 1830

Vixi quandiu potui, sine lite, sine rixâ,Sine contentione, sine ære alieno, amicis fidemBonam præstiti, peculio pauper, animo divitissimus,Benè valeat is qui hoc titulum perlegit meum.

Another—

Lucius Virius Sancius æt. xxiii.Quod tu mî debebas facere, ego tibi facio, mater pia.

The same idea as in Canning’s verses on his son:—

Whilst I, reversed our nature’s kindlier doom,Pour forth a father’s sorrows o’er his tomb.

And Evander on Pellas:—

Contra ego vivendo vici mea fata superstesRestarem ut genitor.

As I came back I looked into San Bernardo, Santa Maria della Vittoria, and Santa Susanna, and I stopped to look at the ‘Moses striking the Rock,’ which is certainly very fine, though there is too much of Moses and not enough of rock or water.TIVOLIAfter breakfast to the Vatican library, where the Duc de Dalberg had engaged the Abbé Maii to meet him, and he showed us all the manuscripts, most of which I had already seen. He is very laborious as well as learned. Maii is said to undertake too much, and to leave a great deal half examined, and therefore unknown; but somebody (I forget who) is at daggers drawn with him, so it may be the accusation of a literary enemy. Went about with the Dalbergs to several places, to all of which I had been before. At every church the Duchess and her daughter dropped on their knees and sprinkled themselves with holy water, and prayed and curtsied, but nothing could get him down upon his marrow bones.

Breakfasted with Gell in his Boschetto Gellio under a treillage of vines, and surrounded by fruits and flowers. He was very agreeable, and told us a great many anecdotes of the Queen and her trial. We are just setting off for Tivoli.

Went to Tivoli. The journey hotter than flames over the Campagna. It is the most beastly town I ever saw, more like the Ghetto here than any other place, full of beggars and children. The inn very moderate, but Henry and I got a very good appartment, looking over the country, in a private house. We all dined together.

—— is the merriest of saints, the jolliest of devotees, and very unlike the ghost in ‘Don Juan,’ who says, ‘Che si pasce di cibo celeste non si pasce di cibo mortale,’ for though rigorously obedient to the prescribed fasts of the Church, she devours flesh enough on other days to suffice for those on which it is forbidden; and on the meagre days she indemnifies herself by any quantity of fish, vegetables, andsucreriesof all kinds. It is only like eating her first course on Thursday and her second on Friday.

After dinner we sent for the most famous guide, with the magnificent name of Pietro Stupendo, called ‘Stupendous’ from his frequent use of that adjective in pointing out the views. His real name is Barbarossa, which is nearly as fine. We went to see the sun set from the Villa d’Estea very fine villa, with clipped trees, waterworks, and all the usual beauties of Italian villas. It belongs to the Duke of Modena, is uninhabited, and falling to decay for want of care and attention. Thence to the Temple of the Sybil or Vesta[6](for it goes by both names), which is very airy and graceful, and perched on the point of a rock, but its effect spoiled by being embedded in dirty, ugly houses. The fall below was made by Bernini, and is very pretty, but not grand, and it looks rather artificial. We saw it from what is called the Grotto of Neptune. At night I returned again, but nobody else would stir out. I went down to the fall, and had bundles of hay lit on the rock above, and some blue lights calledlumi di Bengala, a sort of firework, put in the temple, and the effect was beautiful. The reflected light upon the cascade, and the light and shade upon the rocks, and the temple made visible through the darkness by the soft blue flame, without any of the background of buildings appearing, were very fine, and in the obscurity it seemed much more extensive and natural. I saw this first from the Grotto of Neptune, and then from the opposite height.

[6]I believe it to be the Sybil’s Temple. There is a frightful square building close to it they call the Sybil’s Temple, but I do not see by what authority. Nibby says it is Vesta, but everybody else says the Sybil.—Forsyth, Cramer, &c.

Yesterday morning we were to have started on thegiroof Tivoli at six, but as women are never ready, and a good deal of eating and drinking was to be gone through before we got under weigh, we were not off till near eight. The consequence was that we got into the heat, and lost the colouring of the early morning, and those lights and shades on which great part of the beauty of this scenery depends. I was altogether disappointed; the hills are either quite bare or covered with olives, the most tiresome of trees; the falls are all artificial, and though the view at the foot of the largest (or as near as you can approach it) is beautiful, on the whole no part of the scenery answered my expectations. The water falls in eleven separate cascades (above and below), and sinking into the gulf appears to boil up again in clouds of spray, butTIVOLIthe artificial channel above is distinctly visible. There is an ancient bridge over the Anio and part of a road up to Tivoli in wonderful preservation. Our party pleased their imaginations by thinking that Augustus and Mecænas had probably gone cheek by jowl over the road and bridge, but Stupendous told me it was built by Valerian, A.D. 253, though he had no notion who Valerian was, except that he was an Emperor. There are some curious remains of Mecænas’s Villa, particularly the places (if they are really so) where the slaves were kept, which are just like cellars. I cannot remember seeing any apartments destined for slaves at Pompeii, but from all one sees or hears and reads of the Roman slaves, they must have been treated in a manner that it is inconceivable they should have endured, considering their numbers, and of what they were generally composed—barbarian prisoners or free citizens reduced to servitude. We ended thegiroat the Villa d’Este, and breakfasted on the terrace; the rest of the party then retired to sleep and play at cards at the inn, and I started with Stupendous to see the remains of an ancient city, and some specimens of Cyclopean walls, about four or five miles off. The first place is called Ventidius Bassa’s, because that gentleman had a villa there, built on the ruins of a little Cyclopean town, where there are still some walls standing. From thence to Mitriano, which must have been a large town, the vestiges still covering several hills, and the remains of walls being very large; there is nothing left but a few broken fluted columns, and one flat marble stone perfect, with an inscription. This jaunt was hardly worth the trouble.

When I came back from Mitriano, I went down to the Grotto of the Syrens, from whence the view of the cascade is much finer than from the other grotto, and really grand; but the path is very slippery from the clouds of spray constantly falling over it. I did not go quite to the grotto, for Stupendous told me he had nearly slipped down the rock and cracked his crown; so I declined running that risk, but saw just as well, for I went nearly to the bottom.

At half-past four we went to Adrian’s Villa, with whichI was as much delighted as I was disappointed with Tivoli. Nothing can be more picturesque than the ruins, and nothing gives such an idea of the grandeur of the ancient masters of the world. They are six miles in circumference, and the remains are considerable, though not very distinct, but it is very easy to perceive that they are the ruins of a villa, or a collection of ornamental and luxurious buildings, and not of a town, which from their size they might be. Almost all the ruins of antiquity that adorn Rome were found here, or in Caracalla’s Baths, which latter were supplied from this stock—all the Albani collection, most of the Museo Borbonico at Naples, and half the Vatican. The Albani collection was made by a nephew of Clement XI., the Albani Pope. They say only one-fourth has been excavated. The ruins are overgrown with ivy and all sorts of creepers. The grounds are full of pines and cypresses of great size, and it is altogether one of the most interesting and beautiful spots I have seen in Italy. The Villa Adriani now belongs to Duke Braschi, nephew of Pius VI. He has not excavated, but the truth is that there is little temptation to individuals to do so. The Government have taken all the ruins under their protection, and no proprietor is allowed to destroy any part of them. So far so good, but if he digs and finds anything, he may not sell it; the Government reserves to itself a right of pre-emption, and should he be offered a large sum by any foreigner for any object he may find, he is not allowed to take it, although the Government may not choose to buy it at the same price. They will fix a fair, but not a fancy price, but the vendor is often obliged, when they do buy it, to wait many years for his money. Albani employed 1,000 men to excavate.

We came back in a deliciously cool evening. The Duchess wanted us to keep with her carriage (she had a pair and we had four horses), for fear she should be robbed—for she had heard that somebody had been robbed somewhere a little while ago—which we promised; but our postilions set off in a gallop, we fell asleep, and they were left to their fate.

MISS KELLY’S ADVENTUREAt night.—This morning as I was sitting at Torlonia’s reading the newspapers, a woman came in, whom Luigi Chiaveri soon after begged to introduce to me. She was a Mrs. Kelly, of whose history I had already heard, and I told Chiaveri I would assist her if I could. She told me her case in detail. The short of it is this:—She and her daughter (who is very pretty) got acquainted at Florence with a family of Swifts. Young Swift seeing the girl was good-looking, and hearing she was rich, made up to her, gained her affections (as they call it), and proposed to marry her. She agreed, provided her mother did. They came to Rome. Swift followed, established himself at the same inn, and wrote to the mother to propose himself. The mother declined. He wrote a second letter—same reply. He then prevailed on the girl to promise not to give him up, but failed in persuading her to elope with him. She said she would marry him when she was of age. He pressed her to give him a written promise to this effect before witnesses. After some hesitation she agreed, and one evening (having been previously appointed by him) she met him in another room, where she found a priest and two men. She signed two papers without reading them, heard a short form muttered over, which she did not understand, and then was told to run downstairs again. A few days after she got uneasy as to what had happened, and confessed it all to her mother, who immediately conceived that this was a marriage ceremony into which she had been inveigled. She told her lover what she had done, who asked her what her mother had said. She told him that her mother fancied that it was a marriage, but that she had told her it was not, when he informed her it was, and this was the first intimation he gave her of the sort, and the first time he had given her to understand that he regarded her as his wife. She reproached him with his duplicity and the imposition he had practised on her, and told him she would have no more to say to him. This took place in St. Peter’s one Friday at vespers. Soon after they went to Naples, where Swift followed, and wrote to her mother saying he had married her daughter, and askingher forgiveness; that she might fancy the marriage was not valid, but she would find it was, having been celebrated by an abbé, witnessed by the nephew of a cardinal, and the certificate signed by a cardinal, with the knowledge of the Pope. She sent no answer, when he begged an interview, which she granted, and then he told her that he was a Catholic, and that her daughter had become so too, and had signed an act of abjuration of the Protestant religion. The mother and daughter, however, declined having anything to do with him, and the latter declared that she had never changed her religion at all. He then claimed her as his wife, and tried to prevail on Hill and Lushington (Sir Henry Lushington, Consul—the present Lord Berwick, Minister) to prevent their leaving Naples. They declined to interfere, and advised the mother to go home, and let the matter be settled between them in England. She took the hint and set off. He followed, and overtook them at Rome, and there, by representations to the civil and religious authorities that they were taking away his wife to prevent her being a Catholic, and make her relapse to the Protestant faith, he got them to interfere, and their passports were refused. Such is their story. They have nobody to advise, assist, or protect them.

I went to La Ferronays, who was all good-nature, and said he would go with me to Cardinal Albani; but I went first to the hotel and saw the girl alone, who corroborated all her mother had said. I wrote down her evidence, and made her sign it, and then went with the Ambassador to the Cardinal in the Quirinal Palace. The door of his cabinet was locked, but after a sort ofabbé suissehad knocked a little he came and opened it, and in we went. He did not recollect my name the last time I saw him, nor my person this. La Ferronays explained the business, with which he was already acquainted, partly through Kestner (the Hanoverian Minister) and partly through the Roman authorities, who had given him the case of the adventurer, for such he seems to be. The Cardinal seemed disposed to do nothing (Bunsen assures me he is a very sensible man, and right-headedMISS KELLY’S ADVENTUREand well disposed), and said she was married. We said, not at all. Then he hummed and hawed, and stammered and slobbered, and talked of the ‘case being in the hands of the Saint Office [the Inquisition!!] under the eyes of his Holiness. What could he do?’ We fired off a tirade against the infamy of the action, said that the English tribunals ought to decide upon the validity of the marriage, that all they wanted was to go home, that the man might follow and make his claim good if he could, and that the story (if they were detained here) would make a noise in England, and would be echoed back to France by the press of both countries, and that it was very desirable to avoid such a scandal. He seemed struck with this, and said it would be best to send them off to settle their disputes at home, but that they must have patience, that time was necessary and the case must be examined. We were obliged to be contented with this, and saying we were sure the case was in good hands (which I doubt, for he would leave it there if he dared), with many scrapes and compliments we took our leave. The girl has never dared to show her face, for fear of being carried off by the lover or shut up in a convent by the Grand Inquisitor, so I tranquillised their minds and sent them out an airing. In the evening I spoke to Monsignore Spada, who has promised to help to get up a case in Italian, if it should be wanted.

Dined with M. de la Ferronays, and went to his villa (Mattei) afterwards. He has been perfect in this affair, full of prompt kindness; but what a Government! how imbecile, how superannuated!—a Minister of ninety almost, a sovereign of whom all that can be said is that he is a great canonist, and all that little bubbling and boiling of priestery and monkery, which is at once odious, mischievous, and contemptible, a sort of extinct volcano, all the stink of the sulphur without any of the splendour of the eruption. They want the French again sadly. English subjects detained by the Inquisition in 1830!! La Ferronays advised me to ask the Pope for a moment of audience, and to request him to see the girl himself, and interrogate her, and learn the truth, of the case.

I had just done writing the above when a note came from La Ferronays with the passports for the Kellys, which Albani had sent him, so I had only to thank the Cardinal instead of mentioning it to the Pope. I did not think he would have been so quick. How enchanted they will be to-morrow morning!

At ten Kestner called for Lovaine and me, and we went to the Pope.[7]His Court is by no means despicable. A splendid suite of apartments at the Quirinal with a very decent attendance of Swiss Guards, Guardie Nobili, Chamberlains—generally ecclesiastics—dressed in purple, valets in red from top to toe, of Spanish cut, and in the midst of all a barefooted Capuchin. After waiting a few minutes, we were introduced to the presence of the Pope by the Chamberlain, who knelt as he showed us in. The Pope was alone at the end of a very long and handsome apartment, sitting under a canopy of state in an arm-chair, with a table before him covered with books and papers, a crucifix, and a snuff-box. He received us most graciously, half rising and extending his hand, which we all kissed. His dress was white silk, and very dirty, a white silk skullcap, red silk shoes with an embroidered cross, which the faithful kiss. He is a very nice, squinting old twaddle, and we liked him. He asked us if we spoke Italian, and when we modestly answered, a little, he began in the most desperately unintelligible French I ever heard; so that, though no doubt he said many excellent things, it was nearly impossible to comprehend any of them; but he talked with interest of our King’s health, of the antiquities, and Vescovali, of Lucien Buonaparte and his extortion (for his curiosities), said when he was Cardinal he used to go often to Vescovali. He is, in fact, a connoisseur. Talked of quieting religious dissensions in England and the Catholic question; and when I said, ‘Très-Saint Père, le Roi mon maître n’a pas de meilleurs sujets que ses sujets catholiques,’ his eyesMISS KELLY’S ADVENTUREwhirled round in their sockets like teetotums, and he grinned from ear to ear. After about a quarter of an hour he bade us farewell: we kissed his hand and backed out again. We then went to the Cardinal, whom I thanked warmly for his prompt attention to my request in having given the passports tomy protégées. It is the etiquette in the Court of the Quirinal for the servants to descend from behind the carriage, and the horses to go a foot pace.

[7][The Pope was Pius VIII. (Francisco Xavierio Castiglioni), whose reign was a very short one, for he succeeded Leo XII. in March 1829, and was succeeded by Gregory XVI. in December, 1830.]

After this audience I took the passport to the Kellys. The mother was in bed, but the girl came to me in a transport of gratitude and joy. They went off in the evening to Florence. La Ferronays advised me to send them off directly, for fear the priests should begin to stir in the matter and raise fresh obstacles.

In the afternoon went to Gibson’s, the sculptor. He is very simple and intelligent, and appears to be devoted to his art. There is a magnificent Venus, composed from various models, like Zeuxis’s statue of Juno at Crotona.

Quando Zeusi l’immagine far volseChe par dovea nel tempio di Giunone,E tante belle nude insieme accolse,E per una farne in perfezione,Da chi, una parte, e da chi, un’ altra tolse.

Yesterday the advocate to whom I had advised Mrs. Kelly to go came to me, and said he could not understand what she said, and she had desired him to call on me. I told him the story, and he said he would look into it and see what was to be done. I had advised her before she went to consult an Italian lawyer as to the necessary steps to be taken here in order to prove the invalidity of the marriage in England. This man, whose name is Dottore Belli, was recommended to me by Monsignore Spada as a clever lawyer, and particularly good for the case, because brother of one of the judges (or other officer) in the Vicar-General’s court. But I suppose he has less influence over the brother than the brother over him, for this morning he sent me a very civil but formal letter, saying ‘theparties were married, and had abjured after instruction received’—evidently a letter dictated by the court or by his brother, or at all events by some ecclesiastical interest. They evidently want to make the marriage good to save their own credit, but there is a great mystery in the whole affair. Cardinal Weld told La Ferronays that they had not yet found the priest who had performed the ceremony. Bunsen at my request undertook to enquire into the affair, but up to the present moment (June 13th) he has only made the case more confused and inexplicable.[8]

[8]The conclusion of this affair is not less curious than its commencement. The parties returned to this country. Swift sued Miss Kelly in the Ecclesiastical Court for the restitution of conjugal rights. After much delay the case was elaborately argued before Sir John Nicholl, who at very great length pronounced judgment against the validity of the marriage. Swift appealed to the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, when the sentence of the Court below was reversed, and the ceremony at Rome decided to be a good and binding marriage. The parties were thus irrevocably made man and wife, and after some time had elapsed their mutual friends and relations set on foot a negotiation for a reconciliation, and eventually Miss Kelly agreed to live with Mr. Swift, on condition that the marriage ceremony should be regularly performed, which was accordingly done: certain settlements were made, and they are now (for all I know to the contrary) living happily and harmoniously together. [The further proceedings in this cause are described in the second volume of this Journal, when they came before the Privy Council.]

To-day there was a grand ceremony of the transportation of the standard of a new saint (that is, one made about fifty years ago) from St. Peter’s to San Lorenzo in Lucina, his own church. This saint is San Francisco Carraccioli, a Neapolitan. All the peasantry came in, covered with religious gewgaws, and the streets were crowded. There was a balcony at the Cardinal’s as for the Girandola, but the Duc de Dalberg and I went to the Piazza di San Pietro, and saw it there; it was curious. First came the guards; then the footmen of the cardinals in State liveries, four for each, carrying torches; the clergy of various orders with chandeliers, crucifixes, immense crosses, standards, and all with torches; a long file of Jesuits, whose appearance was remarkable, so humble and absorbed did they look; bands of music and soldiers, the whole reaching from the door ofSAINT-MAKINGSt. Peter’s to the other side of the Castle of St. Angelo. This procession made thegiroof the city, for we fell in with it again in the Piazza della Colonna two hours afterwards. The Church of San Lorenzo and the adjoining houses were illuminated, and there was a picture, inscription, &c., stuck up over the door. The Cardinal Galetti, who is the patron of this order, asked the General of the Jesuits to send some of his flock to swell the procession, which he was desirous of making as brilliant as possible. The General excused himself on the ground that the Jesuits were not in the habit of attending processions. The Cardinal complained to the Pope of the General’s refusal. The next time the Pope saw him (he goes once a week to the Quirinal to make his report), after discussing all their matters of business and giving him the benediction, just as he was leaving the room, the Pope called after him, ‘O reverend Father, I hope you will not send less than a hundred of your Jesuits to the procession to-morrow.’ The General was thunderstruck, but obliged to obey. This ecclesiastical anecdote makes a noise here. The present General is a Belgian, and a man of great ability. The Jesuits have a college here, and a seminary; a hundred in the one, and three hundred in the other.

The process of saint-making is extremely curious. There are three grades of saintship: the first, for which I forget the name, requires irreproachable moral conduct; the second (beatification), two well-proved miracles; the third (sanctification), three. It costs an immense sum of money to effect the whole, in some cases as much as 100,000 piastres. The process begins by an application to the Pope, on the part of the relatives of the candidate, or on that of the confraternity, if they belong to a religious order. The Pope refers the question to a tribunal, and the claimants are obliged to appear with their proofs, which are severely scrutinised, and the miracles are only admitted upon the production of the most satisfactory evidence. Individuals continually subscribe for this purpose, particularly for members of religious orders, in order to increase the honour or glory of thesociety. These trials last many years, sometimes for centuries. There is a Princess of Sardinia, sister of the late King, who died lately, and they want to make a saint of her. The money (estimated at 100,000 piastres) is ready, but they cannot rout out a miracle by any means, so that they are at a dead stand-still before the second step. Nobody can be sanctified till two hundred years after their death, but they may arrive at the previous grades before that, and the proofs may be adduced and registered.

Yesterday news came of the change in the French Ministry,[9]of which La Ferronays knew nothing the night before, and from which Dalberg anticipates an increase of desperate measures on the part of the Court. Went in the morning to Gibson’s; in the evening to the Orti Sallustiani, one of the many objects here not worth seeing, though they show two great holes in a wall, which they call the Campo Scelerato, and they say it is the place where the frail vestals were buried. Coming back we met the Pope taking a drive—two coaches-and-four, with guards and outriders. We got out of the carriage and took off our hats, and ourlaquais de placedropped on his knees. The Pope was in white, two people sitting opposite to him, and as he passed he scattered a blessing. All persons kneel when he appears—that is, all Catholics. The equipage was not brilliant. To the Corsini Villa, the gardens of which are some of the shadiest and most agreeable in Rome, but nobody inhabits the palace. The Corsinis live at Florence, and when they come here they lodge elsewhere, for the malaria, they say, occupies their domain. Thus it is that between poverty and malaria Rome is deserted by its great men. But the population ought to be increasing, for almost every woman one meets is with child. Gell denies the malaria, says heSAN LORENZO IN LUCINAshould not mind living where they say it is dangerous to live; but can this be matter of opinion?

[9][Charles X. had signed the decree for the dissolution of the existing Chamber of Deputies on the 16th of May: on the 19th of May another ordinance appointed M. de Chantelauze to the Ministry of Justice, M. de Peyronnet to the Interior, M. de Montbel to the Finances, and M. Capelle to the Department of Public Works. These appointments, more especially that of M. de Peyronnet, were deemed in the highest degree hostile to the Liberal party.]

In the evening looked into the Church and Piazza of San Lorenzo in Lucina. The church is hung with drapery, adorned with statues, and illuminated by innumerable wax candles. The piazza is illuminated too, and drapery hung out from the windows. There were crowds of people, lines of chairs, and boys bawling to the people to come and sit upon them; others selling lemonade, others the life and exploits of the saint on penny papers; a band of military music on a scaffolding, and guards patrolling about. Between the intervals of the band the bells, in discordant chorus, regaled ‘the ears of the groundlings.’ This strange, discordant scene, the foundation of which is religious, but which has but little of the appearance of religion in it, lasts eight successive days, and costs a vast sum of money—they say 9,000 scudi—the greatest part of which is furnished by the Government. It probably answers some end, for it is difficult to conceive that any Government, even this, should spend money, of which they have so little to spare, on these fooleries while poverty overspreads the land. This ceremony has not taken place before for a hundred years. The sight is certainly very gay. Close by, in the Palazzo Mani, is a theatre of marionettes, who play a comedy of Goldoni. The Duke Fiani lets part of his palace for this purpose. What an exhibition of wretchedness! He reserves a box which his servants let to anybody, whether on his account or their own I don’t know.

Evening.—Went before dinner to the Villa Madama, a ruined villa belonging to the royal house of Naples, with fine paintings still on the walls and ceilings, the vestiges of former luxury, and a capital view of Rome, the Tiber, the Milvian Bridge, and the mountains. After dinner to the San Gregorio to see the frescoes, the ‘Martyrdom of St. Andrew,’ the rival frescoes of Guido and Domenichino, and afterwards drove about till dark, when we went to a most extraordinary performance—that of the Flagellants. I had heard of it, and had long been curious to assist at it. The church was dimly lit by a few candles on the altar, the congregationnot numerous. There was a service, the people making the responses, after which a priest, or one of the attendants of the church, went round with a bundle of whips of knotted cord, and gave one to each person who chose to take it. I took mine, but my companion laughed so at seeing me gravely accept the whip, that he was obliged to hide his face in his hands, and was passed over. In a few minutes the candles were extinguished, and we were left in total darkness. Then an invisible preacher began exhorting his hearers to whip themselves severely, and as he went on his vehemence and passion increased. Presently a loud smacking was heard all round the church, which continued a few minutes; then the preacher urged us to fresh exertions, and crack went the whips again louder and faster than before as he exhorted. The faithful flogged till a bell rang; the whips stopped, in a few minutes the candles were lit again, and the priest came round and collected his cords. I had squeezed mine in my hands, so that he did not see it, and I brought it away with me. As soon as the candles were extinguished the doors were locked, so that nobody could go out or come in till the discipline was over. I was rather nervous when we were locked up in total darkness, but nobody whipped me, and I certainly did not whip myself. A more extraordinary thing (for sight it can’t be called) I never witnessed. I don’t think the people stripped, nor, if they did, that the cords could have hurt them much. From thence to St. Peter’s, where we found thequarant’ oreand the high altar illuminated with heaps of candles. Only a few lights scattered at a great distance through the rest of the church, very few people there; but the dim light, the deep shades, the vast space, and the profound stillness were sublime. Certainly nothing in the world can approach St. Peter’s, and it always presents something new to admire.

From St. Peter’s to the Vatican, to see the statues by torchlight. The effect is wonderful, and totally unlike that which is produced by day. The finest statues unquestionably gain the most, and it is easy, after seeing this, to understand why most of the best are found in the baths; a betterBUNSEN’S ACCOUNT OF ROMEnotion, too, may be formed of their magnificence. It would seem as if some statues had been formed expressly to be thus exhibited. There is a mutilated statue they call a Niobe (God knows why), with drapery blown back by the wind and appearing quite transparent. This effect cannot be produced by daylight.

Called on Bunsen, who has not yet got an answer from the agent he sent to the office of the Grand Vicar. I had a long conversation with him about the expediency of appointing an English Minister or agent of some sort at Rome, which he thinks very desirable and very feasible, upon the same plan on which the diplomatic relations of Prussia with Rome are conducted, and which he says go on very smoothly, and without embarrassment or inconvenience. There is good faith on both sides. The Catholic bishops do not attempt to deceive the Government, and he thinks that the Court of Rome does not attempt to hold any clandestine intercourse with the Prussian States. He says Albani is a sensible man; that the cardinals are bigoted and prejudiced, hostile to England, and most of them forgetful of all the See of Rome owes to our country; but they are still aware that, in the hour of danger, it is to England and the Protestant countries they must look for protection, as they found it when Austria wanted to strip them of the March of Ancona. He thinks there is much superstition among the lower classes, little religion among any, great immorality in all; the same desire of intriguing and extending its influence which the Romish Church has always had, but with very diminished means and resources. The Inquisition is still active in repressing heresy among Roman subjects, but not venturing to meddle with the opinions of foreigners. Its principles and its forms are the same as in former times. He says we have an inefficient Consul at Ancona, who was put in by Canning on account of his Liverpool connections. It would be very desirable to establish a regular Protestant church in Rome, with an able and permanent minister; but there is only an occasional church, with anybody who will serve in it, and who is paid by the congregation; but such a man istotally unable to cope with the Catholic preachers, and consequently many converts are made to the Catholic religion. A Consul-General at Rome might answer the purpose of an agent, and, without being an accredited Minister, perform all the functions of one. This was the pith of what he said, besides a great deal about the Catholic religion itself, its inferiority to the Reformed, its incompatibility with free institutions, and a good deal more, not much to the purpose. Bunsen is a man of very considerable information, learned, very obliging, and communicative, sensible, moderate, but rather prejudiced. At this moment he is full of the French expedition [to Algiers], and their colonising projects, of which he is thoroughly persuaded and not a little afraid.

The Duc de Dalberg told me that at the Congress of Vienna he was deputed to speak to Consalvi about ceding the March of Ancona to the Austrians. He answered, ‘My dear Duke, the Congress can treat us as it pleases. If we are pressed, we must retreat to the walls; further we cannot go, and we are there already.’ The Cardinal afterwards spoke to the Emperor, and the next day Metternich said he had orders from the Emperor to declare that he would take nothing from the Pontifical States without the free concurrence of the Pope; so there ended that question.

At night.—Just returned from Frascati with Henry de Ros—a very agreeable expedition. We went to the inn, a most execrable hotel, but dined very well on a repast we had the foresight to take with us. Before dinner went to the Villa Conti, which has a delicious garden, with fine trees and ample shade, and one of the prettiest falls of water I have seen. The house we did not enter, but it appeared small. To the Villa Marconi, without any garden, but a capital house, and the only one which looks well kept and inhabited. The Marconi house in the Conti garden would be perfect. After dinner to Tusculum, a beautiful walk under shade, with magnificent views over the Campagna on one side and Monte Cavo, Rocca di Papa, and the Prati d’Annibale on the other. The remains at Tusculum are next to nothing, part of a theatre, of an aqueduct, and of theFRASCATIwalls. I believe the town was destroyed by Pope Celestine III. (1191), in order to extirpate a band of robbers which had long infested the country and made Tusculum their stronghold. All the country hereabout is beautiful, and the air excellent, so that a more perfect residence cannot be imagined. To the Villa Belvidere, belonging to Prince Aldobrandini, deserted and neglected, but very enjoyable, full of childish waterworks, but a good house, which is to be hired for 150ℓ. a year, and might be made very comfortable. Here is Mount Parnassus, and the water turns an organ, and so makes Apollo and the Muses utter horrid sounds, and a Triton has a horn which he is made to blow, producing a very discordant noise. I fell in with Lady Sandwich, and went back to tea with her at a villa which belonged to the Cardinal York. There are the royal arms of England, a bust of the Cardinal, and a picture of his father or brother. We also went to the Rufinella, whence the view is extremely fine; this was Lucien Buonaparte’s villa, and the scene of the capture of a painter and a steward by the banditti, who carried them off from the door of the villa and took them into the Abruzzi, which may be descried from the terrace. The cicerone who went with us (a tiresome and chattering fellow) told us that he had attended Queen Caroline, that they had come to him for evidence against her, and he had declared he knew nothing; but he said he could have deposed to some things unfavourable to her, having seen her and Bergami together and witnessed their familiarity.

Yesterday rode round the walls. In the evening to the Vatican, and afterwards to Bunsen’s. He gave me his memorandum to read, which is contained in a letter to Wilmot Horton of the 28th of December, 1828, upon the settlement of the Catholic question, and his view of the mode in which it might be done. He approves of Wilmot’s plan, not knowing at that time that the Duke had resolved to grant unqualified emancipation. In this paper he describes the existing arrangements between the other Protestant Powers and the Court of Rome, and states in what manner he thinks we might pursue a similar course. It is well done,and his ideas appear to me very clear and sound. It is pretty evident that we should meet with no difficulties here, and that they would practically agree to everything we should require, provided we did not insist upon their doing so in specific terms. Our difficulties would arise from the extreme parties at home—the ultra-Catholics and the ultra-Protestants—but a steady hand might steer betwixt them both. Bunsen describes what has been done in Prussia, Hanover, Netherlands, and the minor German States; the Prussian arrangements appear to be the wisest. When the King of Prussia began to negotiate, he did not allow his Ministers to enter upon any discussion of principles, nor to ask for any express sanction of thestatus quo. On the other hand he did not prescribe to the Church of Rome the canonical form in which an express or tacit acknowledgment of the claims and rights of the Crown was to be made as to the secularisation of Church property. The Netherlands went on a different plan, and framed a constitution of the Roman Catholic Church in their dominions, called a Pragmatic Sanction, which they wanted the Pope to acknowledge. The Hanoverian Government also wished to conclude a formal treaty, and oblige the Pope to sanction certain civil regulations concerning Church government. He observes that the Court of Rome will appear ignorant of, and thus tacitly acknowledge, many things which it never will nor can expressly sanction and approve.

Throughout Germany, both Catholic and Protestant, all correspondence between the clergy and the Pope goes through the Government by the law of the country—all matters public and private—the Pope’s bulls and briefs are returned in the same way; and whenever any of these contain expressions which run against the national laws, theplacet regiumis only given with clauses reserving the rights of the Crown, and annulling what is irreconcilable with the civil law. The Court of Rome is quite aware of this practice, and the legations of Bavaria and Austria, as well as those of Prussia and Hanover, present the respective petitions of their clergy through their Roman agents. Bunsen says nothing can be practically more established,PROTESTANT STATES AND ROMEbut that no consideration would induce the Pope formally to sanction the practice in a treaty.

In the arrangements respecting the appointment of bishops and dignitaries, Prussia proposed the establishment of chapters, with the same right of election which had existed before the French Revolution. The smaller States of Germany followed a similar plan. Hanover proposed and obtained a veto. The chapter presents a list; the Government strikes out any name, but must leave two, out of which the chapter may elect, but in case of irregularity or inconvenience the chapter may make a second list. The Netherlands have the same system of limited veto and second list, and the confidential brief in addition.[10]The chapters have the right of election, the Pope of confirmation, by canonical institution as the necessary condition of the bishop’s consecration; but besides a confidential brief was agreed on desiring the chapter not to elect as bishop a person ‘minus gratam serenissimo regi;’ this ensures respect to the royal recommendation.

[10][These facts, originally suggested by Bunsen at Rome to Mr. Greville were afterwards used by him as the basis of his argument for the establishment of diplomatic relations with the Court of Rome in his book on the ‘Policy of England to Ireland,’ published in 1845.]

Yesterday morning called on M. de la Ferronays, but only saw him for a minute, for the Austrian Ambassador arrived, and I was obliged to go. He is in great alarm as well as sorrow at the appointment of M. de Peyronnet[11]and the aspect of affairs in France. He told me that he had so little idea of this appointment that he would have guessed anybody rather than that man, who was so odious that he had been rejected for three successive places, for the representation of which he had stood when he was Minister; that Villèle, with all his influence, could not get him elected; and that in the Chamber of Peers he had been so intemperate that he had been repeatedly called to order, a thing which hardly ever occurred; that the Government had evidentlythrown away the scabbard by naming him on the eve of a general election, and thus offering a sort of insult to the whole nation; that it rendered his own position here very disagreeable, although his was an ecclesiastical and not a political mission, and that he in fact considered it only as an honourable retreat; yet he had written to Polignac the moment the news reached him, saying that if he considered him as in the least degree implicated politically with his Government he should immediately resign, and that if he found by his answer that he looked upon him as in the remotest degree connected with their measures he should instantly retire. I saw Dalberg afterwards, who appears to me deeply alarmed. He looks with anxiety to the Duke of Wellington as the only man whose authority or interference can arrest the French Ministry in the career which must plunge France into a civil war, if not create a general war in Europe. He believes that Metternich and the Austrians are backing up Charles X., and that, in case of any troubles, they will, in virtue of the Treaty of Chaumont, pour troops into France. His hope, then, is that the Duke will interpose and prevent this Austrian interference.

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