Social And Diplomatic Memories, 1884-1919 Vol. III

 This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING—www.picklepartnerspublishing.com

To join our mailing list for new titles or for issues with our books –

Or on Facebook

Text originally published in 1925 under the same title.

© Pickle Partners Publishing 2013, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.

Publisher’s Note

Although in most cases we have retained the Author’s original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern reader’s benefit.

We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.

SOCIAL AND DIPLOMATIC MEMORIES

(Third Series)

1902-1919

BY THE RIGHT HON.

SIR JAMES RENNELL RODD, G.C.B.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS 4

PREFACE 6

CHAPTER I — ROME, 1902 8

Lord Currie, Ambassador. Political situation. Prinetti, Sonnino, Giolitti. Diplomatic representatives. Social life. Intellectual Society. Monseigneur Duchesne. Sabatier. The Keats-Shelley Memorial. Ninfa. The Shah's visit. Illness of King Edward VII. Vallombrosa. Summer festivals. Kitchener in Rome. 8

CHAPTER II — ROME, 1903-1904 21

Sir F. Bertie, Ambassador. King Victor Emmanuel. Prinetti's illness. Visit of King Edward VII. Illness and death of Leo XIII. The funeral. The conclave and the election of Pius X. Death of Lord Salisbury. Bertie as Ambassador. Appointment to Stockholm. The Layard pictures. 21

CHAPTER III — STOCKHOLM 1905 33

Swedish characteristics. King Oscar and his Court. Visit to Christiania. The Scandinavian crisis. New Ministry in Norway indicates dissolution of Union. Engagement of heir-presumptive to Princess Margaret of Connaught. Sven Hedin. King Oscar refuses sanction to Norwegian Consular Bill. Norway appoints Provisional Government. Royal Wedding. Sweden agrees to dissolution of the Union. Karlstadt Conference. Prince Charles of Denmark offered throne of Norway. 33

CHAPTER IV — STOCKHOLM, 1906-1908 47

Summer life in Sweden. Frank Rhodes. Revolutionary movement in Russia. Domestic anxieties. Proportional Election Bill. Count F. Wachtmeister. Elk shooting. Visby. Diplomatic rivalries. Åland Islands. Death of King Oscar. Visit of King Edward to Stockholm. Death of Sir E. Malet. My appointment as Ambassador at Rome. Farewells. Visit to Canada and United States. President Roosevelt. An informal Cabinet meeting. Mr. Taft's election. 47

CHAPTER V — ROME, 1908-1910 64

Political situation on arrival. The earthquake at Messina. Aehrenthal and Isvolsky. Opening of Keats-Shelley Memorial. With King Edward in the Mediterranean. My official reception. Porto Fino. Crete once more. The diplomatic body. Herr von Jagow. Sonnino's hundred days. San Giuliano as Foreign Minister. Roosevelt in Rome. Death of King Edward. 64

CHAPTER VI —ROME, 1910-1911 77

The funeral. Kitchener. The Villa Rosebery. The old Protestant Cemetery at Rome. Cholera at Naples. Shakespeare monument at Verona. Prince Bülow. Fiftieth anniversary of Italian Unity. Exhibitions at Turin and Rome. Reconstitution of British school. Visit to Sardinia. The National Monument. The Coronation. Agadir. Island of Giannutri. Grounding of the San Giorgio. Outbreak of Italo-Turkish War. A Bismarck story. 77

CHAPTER VII — ROME, 1912-1913 93

A Franco-Italian incident. Visitors to the Embassy. Attempt on life of King of Italy. The Dedication of the Campanile at Venice. Italo-Turkish peace negotiations. Germany and Great Britain. A Corsican Vendetta. The Balkan States attack Turkey. The Layard bequest. Death of Sir Reginald Lister. V. Jagow appointed Foreign Minister at Berlin. His hopes for an understanding with Great Britain. Austrian pressure on Italy to join in action against Montenegro and Serbia. The historic Ball at the British Embassy. Second Balkan Wax. Second Austrian attempt to involve Italy in aggression against Serbia. The Conference of Ambassadors. Albania. Aubrey Herbert. Deadlock in negotiations regarding the Layard collection. 93

CHAPTER VIII — 1889-1914 108

Antecedents of the Great War. Retrospect over relations between Great Britain and Germany from 1889. The part played by the Emperor. Estimate of the measure of his responsibility. 108

CHAPTER IX — ROME, 1914 120

The Serajevo assassinations and the Austrian ultimatum to Serbia. Efforts to avert war. Italy declares her neutrality. We enter the war. News of Goeben and Breslau. Death of Pins X and election of Benedict XV. Propaganda at Conclave. British representation at Holy See. Counter-propaganda. M. Destrée. The anti-war groups in Italy. The interventionists. Salandra and San Giuliano. Importance of Italy's neutrality. Embassy Staff. Sir C. Capel-Cure. Death of San Giuliano. Turkey enters the war 120

CHAPTER X — ROME, 1915 133

Sonnino becomes Minister for Foreign Affairs. Strength of neutralist groups. The American Ambassador, T. Nelson Page. Arrival of Prince Bülow as Special Ambassador. Earthquake in Abruzzi province. Amateur diplomatists. Bülow's conversations with Page and others. Giolitti and the parecchio. Negotiations for Treaty of London. Final decision regarding Layard pictures. Triple Alliance denounced. Internal divisions. D'Annunzio's apostolate. Mussolini. Majority in Parliament for Giolitti and neutrality. Salandra resigns. Popular uprising. Salandra reappointed. Parliamentary decision of 20th May. War with Austria declared. Demonstration at Embassy. Why Italy entered the war. 133

CHAPTER XI —ROME, 1915-1916 151

Opening of campaign. British Military Mission. An emissary from the ex-Khedive. Sonnino's Balkan policy. Italy and Germany. Difficult nature of Alpine warfare. Characteristics of Sonnino. British ambulances. G. M. Trevelyan. Charles Lister. Rifles for Russia. A hospital in Sicily. Summons to London. British Italian Corporation. Kitchener's visit to Rome. His views. Serbian retreat in Albania. Measures for relief and rescue. British Adriatic Mission. Lord Montagu. Red Cross and Blue Cross. Shortage of material and foodstuffs in Italy. 151

CHAPTER XII — ROME, 1916 167

Mr. Asquith's visit. The Italian Front. Reverse in the Trentino. Salandra resigns. Boselli Prime Minister. The Fascio. Shortage of shipping. Mr. Runciman. Conference at Pallanza. Contraband and War-Trade issues. We take charge of the fruit trade. Hemp purchases. Miscellaneous duties of Ambassadors in war. time. General Foch. Dr. Benes. Supilo. Pasitch. Propaganda. Donna Bettina di Casanova. The British Institute in Florence. The war work of the Ambassadress. Club for British soldiers in Rome. 167

CHAPTER XIII — ROME, 1916-1917 182

Military situation at end of 1916. Greece and the Allies. German peace proposals. M. Caillaux in Italy. Summoned home to confer. Conference at Rome. Mr. Lloyd George's plan of campaign. Proposals withdrawn. General Sarrail. General Lyautey. Briand and Albert Thomas. The Vatican. Death of H. Cust. Visit of Sir W. Robertson. Russian Revolution. The United States enter the war. Negotiations with Senoussi. Mark Sykes. St. Jean do Maurienne. Anti-military propaganda in Italy. A midnight adventure. My first leave. 182

CHAPTER XIV — ROME, 1917-1918 196

Orlando Prime Minister. Caporetto. Moral influences largely responsible. The retreat and recovery on the Piave. Conference at Rapallo. Arrival of Allied contingents. Generals Cadorna and Diaz. Spirit of the country. Enemy subjects interned. Sir Erie Geddes. Sir Cecil Spring-Rice. Mr. Wickham Steed in Italy. Conference of races subject to Habsburg Dynasty. Steed and Sonnino. The Italian Committee. Anomalies of war-time. The Prince of Wales in Rome. The Guards' Band. Salaries. Austrian offensive on Piave repelled. Leave. Conditions at home. 196

CHAPTER XV — ROME, 1918-1919 208

Premonitions of victory. The advance from the Piave. Vittorio Veneto. Mutiny at Pola. The German débâcle. The Armistice. Return of King of Italy to Rome. Preparations for Peace Conference. Considerations which moved Italian Statesmen. President Wilson's progress. Death of Roosevelt. Peace negotiations. Withdrawal of Italian Delegates from Paris and return. Departure of American Ambassador. Colonel Lawrence. Orlando succeeded by Nitti. Sonnino withdraws from public life. His death. My retirement. Mission to Egypt. D'Annunzio and Fiume. Departure from Rome. Subsequent activities. Byron and Missolonghi. 208

EPILOGUE 222

REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER 223

PREFACE

The two preceding volumes of my memories would have remained incomplete without a third carrying on the record until the end of the Great War, to which much of the matter contained in them seems now to have been a prelude. The reception accorded to the second not less than to the first series has, moreover, encouraged me to continue. My critics have been so consistently kind that there has been little in their comments to elicit a rejoinder. One reviewer from the other side of the Atlantic, however, gently protested against a tendency to intermingle with really serious matter stories in a lighter vein as being distracting to the reader. To him I would reply that l did not set out to write a history of my own times, but rather to give a picture of contemporary life, as I had seen it from posts of vantage. Since life is compounded of grave and gay, my picture would be unfaithful without the lighter element.

Another suggested that I must have been surprised myself at being able to compile three volumes of autobiography. I should be disposed to agree with him had these volumes been more than incidentally autobiographical. Their aim was rather to convey the atmosphere in which events of importance took shape, to describe certain phases of an old order which is passing away, and to throw a more familiar light on some of the personalities who have played an important part in public affairs. Thirty-seven years of diplomatic experience in foreign countries have provided ample material. So little did I seek to be autobiographical that in the earlier volumes I refrained as far as possible from expressing opinions of my own, and endeavoured to exclude matter which was only personal. It has been less easy in dealing with recent events to adhere to this principle, and occasions inevitably arose when conflicts of view in matters affecting the public service had also a personal element. For any opinions which may be here expressed I am solely responsible.

One further criticism which provokes a reply is that of having been too discreet. In an old public servant due reserve is not only a virtue, but an obvious duty, and it must be a condition of the publication of such memoirs. Some who have lived through exceptional times with exceptional opportunities for observation may feel tempted like Procopius to compile an Arcana Historia, supplementing the more circumspect judgments of men and things which it is legitimate to express. An unexpurgated history of experiences during the Great War might be an entertaining document. But it would record conclusions derived from sources which could not be properly used and appreciations which, though the author might not doubt their accuracy, could not be supported by evidence which would satisfy the judicial standard. There is, however, to my mind something antipathetic in posthumous criticism, and what it is not convenient to say openly is best buried and forgotten.

I wish to repeat, more especially in regard to this volume, that all that has been recorded here is derived from notes in my diaries, from letters written at the time and from memory refreshed by these. The sequence of events as I saw and interpreted them is fully dealt with in dispatches which remain available for examination at a proper time and place. I have not re-read any of my own dispatches since. There must always be much which eludes or would be out of place in an official report, and my present purpose has rather been to reproduce the ambience in which historic developments took place, and to supplement the balder narrative with more intimate appreciations.

Finally, I wish to emphasize that in describing the attitude of Italy immediately before and during the Great War, the story of which begins with the eighth chapter, I have endeavoured to convey what I believe to have been the general trend of popular opinion. Certain groups, certain individuals were no doubt inspired by more directly nationalistic or even imperialistic ambitions, and were less concerned with moral and ethical obligations. I do not pretend to have fathomed, as some writers claim to have done, the recesses of the minds of San Giuliano, of Salandra, of Sonnino, or even of Bissolati, for whose political appreciations I had a great respect. The important point for me was that Italy entered the war on the side of the allies at a very critical moment. And this she could not have done without the support of the nation constraining and overawing an admittedly neutralist majority in Parliament. It is the mentality of the nation and not that of individuals which I have endeavoured to interpret. The Italian temperament is an inheritance from an ancient marriage between the practical and the ideal, the Latin and the Lombard. The practical and logical spirit reaffirmed itself when the hour came to balance accounts. But in the valley of decision ideal considerations played a greater part than has been generally recognized. And the idealists have had their reward. For although the nation, influenced by an intensive process of suggestion from groups or individuals disappointed m particular aims, has not yet realized the fact, the material results of the war for Italy have, in my opinion, been more important and intrinsically more valuable than those achieved by any of the great powers engaged in the struggle.

I gratefully acknowledge a debt to my friends Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Trevelyan who have been so good as to look through the proofs of this volume.

CHAPTER I — ROME, 1902

Lord Currie, Ambassador. Political situation. Prinetti, Sonnino, Giolitti. Diplomatic representatives. Social life. Intellectual Society. Monseigneur Duchesne. Sabatier. The Keats-Shelley Memorial. Ninfa. The Shah's visit. Illness of King Edward VII. Vallombrosa. Summer festivals. Kitchener in Rome.

In the first volume of these memories I have described the Rome which I knew as a boy of six, but little changed from the city of Hans Andersen's improvisatore. It occupied only a portion of the area surrounded by Aurelian's wall which enclosed a vast acreage of gardens, parks, and fascinating regions abandoned to ruin and solitude. Even on my second visit, not long after Rome became the capital of United Italy, the Via Nazionale had not been completed, while Santa Maria Maggiore and the Lateran Basilica with their dependencies were islanded among vineyards and fields of artichoke. By the time I joined the British Embassy in 1891, the vacant spaces had to a great extent been laid out in streets, but the speculative excesses of the building crisis, in which many fortunes and some reputations were compromised, had left a number of new constructions roofless. Others designed as pretentious residences had been invaded by a class of tenant whose occupancy only promised a pitiful return on the vast outlay of capital.

A great improvement was manifest when I rejoined the Embassy at the end of January 1902. The city had spread beyond the gates along the Nomentan road, and the Castle meadows behind the fortress of St. Angelo and the new Law Courts had become a residential quarter. The anticipation of a large influx of population formed when the capital was transferred from the Arno to the Tiber had been realized, and rents were rising rapidly. The wide streets which had replaced the ilex avenues and fountains of the old Villa Ludovisi had become the Roman Mayfair. The stately but sombre palaces of the city of the Popes had been abandoned for the more sanitary modern houses on the ridge from which the spurs of Quirinal, Viminal, and Esquiline diverge. I had to march with the times, and in order not to be too far from the Embassy at Porta Pia had taken a large detached house, the Villino de Renzis, at a rental which absorbed two-thirds of the modest salary which in those days was considered adequate for a Counsellor of Embassy. There, about a fortnight later, my wife joined me, bringing with her a second daughter who had been born on the last day of the old year.

The Ambassador, Lord Currie, had aged considerably during the last two years. He had lost all his old vitality. There was none of that confident assurance which had been characteristic in him as an Under-Secretary at the Foreign Office. His experiences abroad had disappointed him. At Constantinople he did not receive the support from home which he had anticipated, and when transferred to Rome he seemed out of his proper element. It was no doubt difficult for him, after thirty or forty years of official life in London, to receive with patience himself the instructions which he had so long been accustomed to dictate. With all the courtesies of a great gentleman, he was too unplastic and essentially British to appear sympathetic to the Italians, who did not appreciate his official manner, and were at one moment anxious to bring about his recall. An incident had accordingly been unduly magnified. During one of the late Duke of Norfolk's periodical visits to Rome, Lord Currie had, as an old friend, taken part in a reception given by the former at his hotel, not fully realizing that this party, chiefly attended by members of the Vatican hierarchy, had a sort of semi-official character. The health of the Sovereign Pontiff was reported to have been drunk at the buffet, and the National Press commented with some warmth on the presence of an Ambassador accredited to the Quirinal on such an occasion. Opposition between the rival camps of Whites and Blacks was at that time still pronounced, and could be exploited to serve a useful purpose.

It was perhaps not altogether unwelcome to the astute Lombard, who then filled the post of Minister for Foreign Affairs, Signor, afterwards Marchese, Prinetti, to have a grievance. We might thereby be more readily disposed to meet him in a matter to which he attached great importance, namely, the recognition of Italy's priority of interest in the future of Tripoli, if and when occasion should arise to assert it. At any rate Prinetti now secured gratuitously an adhesion which we had shown some hesitation in giving. Italy had obtained an acknowledgment of her reversionary interest in Tripoli from the Governments of Austria-Hungary and Germany nearly ten years earlier, when the Triple Alliance had been renewed by Rudini. The French Government, whose goodwill in this matter was exceptionally important, had just taken a somewhat similar engagement. Not, however, without their quid pro quo, by which, so far as Italy was concerned, a free hand was assured to France in Morocco. Relations with France had remained cool and distant ever since the fiery Sicilian, Crispi, had lost his temper with the Latin sister, and had sought a more congenial partnership in the Wilhelmstrasse at Berlin. Now, however, the situation had somewhat changed.

We had, ourselves, been associated in the Mediterranean understanding of 1887. But as time went on it became obvious that the status quo then contemplated would not be indefinitely maintained, and that such an understanding could only remain effective if revised. When Germany and Austria-Hungary accepted the reversion of Tripoli to Italy, we might have taken the opportunity of acting graciously at the same time. But apparently no one had given a second thought to the understanding of 1887. Some months later, when I was in charge of the Embassy and had established relations of intimacy with Prinetti, he observed to me that there had been, for a long time, practically no diplomatic contact with a series of British Ambassadors, mostly in failing health, who never discussed political questions, and confined themselves to current work. It was consequently assumed in Italy that we had lost interest in her, or regarded her as a negligible quantity.

Meanwhile, time had modified the conditions which had antagonized France and Italy. France had had an anticlerical phase, and the possibility of intervention in favour of the Holy See no longer gave preoccupation. Public sentiment in Italy had grown more reconciled to the French Protectorate over Tunis, where Italian settlers prospered. Crispi was dead, and the Triple Alliance was regarded as the particular work of a statesman who had led the country into a policy of adventure at that time beyond her powers. As the trend of political opinion gravitated more and more towards the left, the feeling became appreciable that the guarantees of that Alliance were dearly bought at the price of the permanent hostility of France and a pernicious tariff war. If Italy with her peculiar capacity for compromise could combine the maintenance of the Alliance with friendship for France her position in the world would be vastly improved.

This apparently impossible consummation was to a great extent accomplished, if at the cost of progressively increasing friction between Italy and Austria-Hungary. The result was largely due to the skilful management of my old friend, Barrère, during the early period of his long tenure of the French Embassy. The opportune moment for an exchange of views which might lead to far-reaching results was indicated by the approaching date for the periodical renewal of the Triple Alliance. Only many years later did I appreciate the full significance of the negotiations upon which he was engaged at this time or the precise terms of a further understanding contracted simultaneously with the Morocco-Tripoli agreement, and then I realized the debt which France owed to her able representative.

Lord Currie became rather seriously ill in the spring, when a disquieting weakness of the heart manifested itself. He was incapable of any sustained effort, and thus, very soon after my arrival, all the burden of current affairs fell on my shoulders.

He left Italy at the end of April. When his leave expired he was granted a further period of sick leave. As his health did not improve he finally retired in December. I thus remained in charge of the Embassy from April 1902 until February of the following year, a very unusual experience for a junior Counsellor.

Not many weeks after my arrival in Rome, I heard with genuine sorrow of the death of my first chief in that capital, Lord Dufferin, the kindest and most constant of older friends. His last years had been clouded by misfortunes which must have weighed heavily on his proud and sensitive nature. It was an irony of fate which made one who gave such admirable advice to others so unlucky in the management of his own affairs, and I bitterly resented that such a Nemesis should have overtaken the brilliantly successful life in which he did such good service to his country. A few weeks later died Cecil Rhodes, whose extraordinary career also closed under a shadow, for it was not until some two months later that the South African War was brought to its close.

The brief reference to the diplomatic situation which I found when I began my second period of residence at the Roman Embassy may be completed by a sketch of the principal personalities with whom I had to deal.

In the not very remarkable Government of Zanardelli the most conspicuous figure was Prinetti, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who acted as a check on its tendency towards the left. A northerner and a man of business as a manufacturer of bicycles on a large scale, he continued to keep touch with the management of his firm while concentrating an untiring energy on public affairs. He also devoted much more time to social life than the majority of Italian statesmen, who are seldom seen outside their offices and the Chamber. He had to a great extent overcome an initial unpopularity due to a dominant manner and a somewhat mordant tongue and, had not overwork cut short a brilliant career in the full vigour of life, he would no doubt have succeeded to the Premiership. His wife was French, and her nationality was not without its influence on the new orientation of foreign relations, in directing which Prinetti was also endeavouring to promote closer relations with Russia.

Among the parliamentarians the personality which at that time impressed me most was that of Sidney Sonnino, with whom I was afterwards to be so closely associated in the grave days of 1915. He had already then, co-operating with the eminent economist, Luigi Luzzatti, played a conspicuous part in restoring equilibrium to the State finances. Thanks to their efforts the corner had been turned in 1897-98. The gold premium had disappeared, and a deficit, chronic for thirty-five years, had been converted into a surplus. Sonnino's father, a Tuscan of Jewish antecedents, had been established in Egypt, where he acquired a certain fortune which made his son more than independent. His mother, on the other hand, was Welsh, and she had brought Sidney up as a Protestant. To her influence was due an austerity of character which increased in later life and a scrupulous rectitude which was intolerant of any dereliction from principle. He was very good-looking, and combined a rather reserved manner with much personal charm. After a few years in diplomacy he had been elected to the Chamber. If he did not avowedly call himself a Conservative, a profession of faith which hardly anyone in Italian public life then ventured openly to assert, he was certainly one by conviction. He was universally respected and tacitly admired, but generally regarded as irredeemably rigid and uncompromising, with too many acute angles for comfortable association in the political combinations of the group system which had established itself. Men rather than principles commanded a following in an assembly where there were too many heterogeneous individualist elements for any Government to be long-lived.

The man already at that time singled out in my notes as most likely to succeed in controlling the difficult machine was Giolitti. His political career had suffered a temporary eclipse after the Banca Romana scandals which he, as Minister of the Interior, had been instrumental in bringing to light, a service which politically recoiled on his own head. In one of the not uncommon intrigues devised to break a Government Giolitti had lent himself to a scheme for undermining the authority of Crispi. He had in his possession a number of documents which he held back at the time of the revelations, and it was insinuated that they contained matter incriminating the veteran Sicilian statesman. There was, however, nothing in the much-discussed Giolitti plico, which had not been within the knowledge of the Committee appointed to investigate the affairs of the bank. The constituencies pronounced a definite judgment in favour of Crispi, and Giolitti's prospects seemed compromised. Crispi had, however, been dead some years, and a genius for parliamentary manipulation, which eventually became disastrous to the sincerity of political life, had brought Giolitti's star once more into the ascendant.

The diplomatic body has always played a conspicuous part in the life of Rome, where much is expected of its members by the horde of travellers who arrive from all countries. I have already referred to Barrère, who became at a very early age French Ambassador at Bern, and shall have more to say hereafter. The doyen was the Austro-Hungarian representative, Baron Pasetti, who like his wife was correctness itself in an protocolar formalities. The Russian, M. de Nelidow, had been Lord Currie's colleague at Constantinople, whence both of them were transferred to Rome about the same time. The German Ambassador, Count Monts, was able and genial, with a strong sense of humour which he did not always diplomatically control. It was no doubt unfortunate that while the tragedy of Belgrade was still a recent memory he should, at a game of bridge, when his partner, the popular Serbian Minister Milovanovich, inadvertently trumped his winning king, have addressed him as le Régicide. The United States could have sent no more acceptable a representative to the capital of nations than George von Lengerke Meyer, who had charm as well as ability, and a wife who at once became a general favourite. With us at that time, however, those who filled the position of second-in-command were more intimate than the heads of missions, and I had as colleagues, with a similar status to my own, Herr von Jagow at the German Embassy, M. Sazonow at the Russian Legation to the Holy See, and at the Embassy M. Kroupensky, who was ambassador when the Great War broke out. The naval and military attachés at our own Embassy, Captain Mark Kerr and Colonel (now Sir Charles) Lamb, a brother of Lady Currie, were also to be associated with Italy during the war. The Rome of 1902 was thus full of elements who were to be prominent in the stormy days of 1914-15.

The social world had changed considerably since I had served there under Dufferin ten years earlier. But cosmopolitan gatherings in hotel ball-rooms had not yet, as during my third and final phase at the Embassy, replaced the old dignified traditions of social life. A certain number of the great Roman houses still maintained a decorous state, though many of their chiefs, including even those who had rallied to the new order, lived their own lives and took little part in public affairs. There were exceptions, such as the witty an cultured Duke of Sermoneta, who had acted as syndic of the city and, for a brief uncomfortable moment in 1896, had filled the post of Minister for Foreign Affairs. Palazzo Doria, maintained as a model of what a Roman palace should be by the refined taste of Alfonso Doria, was open to the friends of a grand seigneur, whose tall and well-groomed figure was almost as well known in Bond Street as in the Corso. His eldest sister, the Duchess Massimo, with the conservative blood of an English mother, was a living protest against social innovations The ancient house of Colonna presented a typical example of the Italian genius for compromise, for while the eldest of the three brothers by whom it was represented filled by hereditary right the highest civil function at the Papal Court, his daughter, the beautiful Vittoria Colonna, whose marriage with the heir of the Liberal family of Caetani seemed to close an ancestral feud dating back to the days of Boniface VIII, had become a lady-in-waiting to the Queen of Italy. The second brother, Don Fabrizio, had been nominated to the Senate, while the third, Don Prospero, one of the most popular figures in the capital, was later to become the chief magistrate of the Roman municipality. On the other hand, the front door of the Lancilotti Palace remained hermetically sealed ever after the 20th of September, 1870, and the old Prince was consistent in his recusancy to the new régime until his death.

A few of the great Roman ladies, such as the Duchess Massimo, the gracious Princess of Venosa, and the Marchesa Pallavicini, still held their weekly receptions, and an after-glow of the old stately life was then still perceptible. It has passed away now, and it can never return. The exclusive noli me tangere of the Roman aristocrat has been replaced by the less dignified tango of the hotel ball-room, and banking counters occupy the remodelled ground-floors of venerable palaces. I was recently discussing with an old Roman friend reminiscences of our youth, and lamenting the disappearance of much that linked us to an historic past. "Aujourd'hui, I said, il n'y a plus de salons à Rome." He assented, but added with a sly French wit inherited from his mother, "Mais il y a toujours des chambres à coucher."

Intellectual society found a meeting-ground in the apartment in Palazzo Odescalchi of the historian, Count Pietro Desiderio Pasolini, where the Countess, enthusiastic, intelligent, and moderately rebellious to convention, assembled as her guests the most interesting personalities in the world of politics, economics, and letters. The Ravennese Senator, who displayed an impish pleasure in shocking his audience and especially his wife, was one of the most attractive types of those courteous and cultivated Italian noblemen of the old school who, if they are less often seen in the capital, may still be found taking care of their estates in many local centres. There, or in the Palazzo Lovatelli, whose mistress, a sister of the Duke of Sermoneta and mother of my old naval friend of East African adventures [Vol. 1, chs. IX and X.], was one of the finest classical scholars in Italy, you would be sure to find any foreign literary celebrities who were visiting the city. In her house I once more renewed acquaintance with a familiar figure of the old Berlin days, the veteran Mommsen. At the Pasolinis' I had the pleasure of hearing the Roman poet, Pascarella, read to us his vivid and suggestive poem on the Catacombs, and there I learned to know one of the most sympathetic and picturesque personalities of an older generation, Count Domenico Gnoli, then librarian-in-chief of the Victor Emmanuel Library. He had had the singular experience of making two different literary pseudonyms famous. In youthful days the son of a high official at the Papal Court had had to conceal his identity as a patriotic poet under the name of Dario Gaddi. In later years, when he filled a distinguished position in the world of art and letters, he had recourse to a similar disguise. A poetess of no ordinary talent had fascinated his critical sense and rejuvenated his spirit. To Vittoria Aganoor, the source of inspiration, he presented a dedicatory volume which purported to be the work of a young and unknown writer, Giulio Orsini, condemned by physical infirmity to a hermit's isolation. It was not long before every one was quoting the haunting verses of Giulio Orsini. The end of Vittoria Aganoor led to one of the real romantic tragedies of my experience. She had married the then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Guido Pompfiji, and he, when after a brief married life she died prematurely in the flower of her fame, shot himself broken-hearted beside her death-bed and was buried with her in the same grave. The secret of Giulio Orsini was eventually revealed, and Gnoli continued to write under that name until his death.

Another agreeable centre of discreetly intellectual society was the hospitable apartment in Piazza Paganica of Donna Laura Minghetti. She was, although she spoke no English, of British origin, being an Acton of Naples, descended from the well-known Prime Minister of the two Sicilies, Sir John Acton. Two distinguished admirals bear the old British name in the Italian Navy to-day. After the death of her first husband, Prince Camporeale, she had surprised everyone by marrying the veteran patriot and statesman, Mareo Minghetti, Un Giorno di Scirocco, as she used to say. Age did not alter nor could custom stale the infinite grace of her winsome personality, and young and old alike acknowledged the supremacy of her charm. Her daughter was married to Count (afterwards Prince) Bülow.

The presence of distinguished French men of letters was always announced to us by my friend, Count Giuseppe Primoli, who summoned us to his quaint old house in Tor di Nona, now rebuilt on a much more sumptuous scale. As the son of a Bonaparte Princess, he had an almost dual nationality, and was as much at home in Paris as in Rome. His quick and strongly seasoned but never unkindly wit found readiest expression in his mother tongue. Is it given to anyone to be witty in more than one language?

At such gatherings you would be almost sure to find the illustrious historian of the Church, Monseigneur Duchesne, Director of the French Institute in Rome, which occupied the upper floor of the Farnese Palace. In a long and wide experience I have seldom met a more entertaining conversationalist than that eminent ecclesiastic whose caustic humour might in any case have been an impediment to his promotion to the highest dignities, even if he had not sacrificed professional ambition to his devotion to historic truth. His softer affections were bestowed upon a family of cats. One of these, a special favourite, fell from a lofty window of the Farnese palace and was killed. Duchesne was greatly upset, and observed to a friend who expressed his sympathy, It has been a great blow to me. I could better have spared five cardinals. Some of his excellent stories, unexceptionable when told de vive voix, might perhaps be less convenient in print. His humour, however, which had a delicate spice of malice, was spontaneous and topical, and would lose by an attempt to reproduce it without the context. When certain conclusions in his ecclesiastical history were discountenanced by the Vatican, he was bound like Galileo to submit and withdraw them, or accept the consequences of rebellion, but his acquiescence was no doubt qualified by a mental reservation similar to that which escaped the great astronomer. It was reported at the time that the question of transferring his activities from Rome to Egypt was under consideration. When asked whether there was any foundation for the rumour, Duchesne replied that he thought it might prove to be correct; it would, after all, be quite in traditional order: "Après le Massacre des innocents la fuite en Egypte."

The troubles of our dear Monseigneur remind me of the curious experience of Paul Sabatier, whom we met soon after our arrival in Rome, on one of his periodical visits from Assisi, where he was pursuing his Franciscan studies. He told me that on finishing his classic work on St. Francis, he forwarded the two first published copies which reached him to Cardinal Rampolla, in acknowledgment of the kindness and assistance which he had received while making researches in the Vatican archives. He had begged him if he thought it suitable to offer one of these copies to Leo XIII. Sabatier was not a little surprised and certainly gratified when he received an official letter communicating to him the Apostolic blessing. Unfortunately, a correspondent who saw the letter communicated its substance to the Press. This afforded Luigi Luzzatti an opportunity too good to miss of pointing out in an article that it seemed hardly consistent with the doctrine of infallibility for the Pope to have conferred the Apostolic benediction on a Protestant; and not long afterwards his book was placed on the Index. The charm of Sabatier's company attracted us once more to Assisi, to which I have been a constant and devout pilgrim. Umbria is the paradise of Italy, and there is hardly a hill town in that delightful province which my wife and I have not explored, following up the work of those lesser masters, who painted for a simple people with a naive and endearing realism which transferred the scene of the Nativity or the Adoration to their own wide valley of the Clitumnus and the pasture grounds of the oxen of Mevania.

It was our devotion to such studies that made our post such a welcome one. My wife was at this time giving half of her day to sculpture and reserving the other half for the social duties which the absence of an ambassadress imposed upon her. To my regret, after we left Rome on my promotion to be a Minister, the obligations of official life compelled her to renounce an art for which she had undoubted talent. My own judgment might be suspected of partiality, but it is confirmed by the fact that the only two works which she submitted were accepted for exhibition at the Academy.

There were then still in Rome a few survivals or descendants of the old cosmopolitan society of art and letters. Old William Story was dead, but his son Waldo still maintained the tradition of plastic art in the studio in Via San Martino. The Americans were indeed more conspicuous in this group than the British. Marion Crawford came up from Sorrento to make studies for the historical volumes which in later years he found more congenial than romance. That curiously attractive pessimistic but kindly social philosopher, Richard Brewster, who elected to write in French, as a more lucid vehicle of expression, entertained a small and select circle of friends in the Palazzo Antici Mattei.

America had indeed asserted itself in many directions in the new Rome. The director of the American school, Benedict Carter, who did so much for its extension and endowment, attracted large audiences to archaeological and historical lectures, in which he substituted a vivid modem incisiveness of exposition for the old academic manner. A number of young and comely American brides were unconsciously demonstrating that the pride which they took in bearing ancestral titles was not inconsistent with a readiness to defy the traditional conventions with which these had hitherto been associated. They imported an entirely new and sometimes rather hectic atmosphere to the ancient city, where they helped, though probably not deliberately, to accelerate the disintegration of the old order. It was one of the less agreeable experiences of the American Ambassador to be occasionally invoked as an arbitrator in their domestic differences, and it was then that George Meyer's imperturbable calm and common-sense stood him in good stead.

I had occasion to observe this quality of his in a rather remarkable experience. He was one of the pioneers of motoring in Central Italy, and was one day driving my wife and myself over a little-frequented road on the farther side of Lake Bracciano. We were slowly descending a steep slope when, as we rounded a corner, we saw at the foot of the hill a number of young horses in charge of three Butteri, the centaurs of the Campagna, armed with their spear-like ox-goads. Though Meyer at once stopped his car the whole cavalcade, sighting an unknown monster, in a moment broke and galloped away to right and left over the unfenced grass land. The three drovers tried to hold in their own frightened horses, but only one succeeded. The other two were carried away with the stampede. The third, who was then barely a hundred yards distant, lowered his spear, applied the spur and tried to charge the car. Meyer kept his head and waited till the rider had covered half the space separating him from us. Then he sounded his horn and the scared animal bolted back. Three times did that indomitable horseman turn him and spur him again to the charge, but each time a blast from the horn at the critical moment was too much for his horse, and he had to give it up and ride after his companions; whereupon we proceeded on our way. It must, I fear, have taken them a long time to round up their scattered troop. Meyer, who was not long afterwards transferred to Russia, was later recalled to fill a high post in the administration in his own country, where as his guest during the Roosevelt Presidency, I renewed a sincere attachment which was only ended by his premature death.

There was also a small and agreeable Russian colony in Rome. Maurice Baring, who came as a welcome addition to our Embassy, was devoting all his spare time to the study of Russian, and it was through him that we made the acquaintance of one of the most entertaining elderly ladies that it has been my good fortune to meet, Princess Ourousow. She had been intimate with literary circles in many countries, and had a keen critical sense and a rich store of anecdote. Her description of her one and only interview with Victor Hugo in his latter days was delightful, even though one might suspect the portrait of being overdrawn. At the time when she paid her visit with a letter of introduction, the old man had long felt himself to be a sort of national institution, and after years of adulation he had accepted himself as an oracle. She found him sitting on a kind of throne, surrounded by a group of' worshippers who waited for the word of wisdom. He motioned her to a seat and after a while, looking into the infinite observed, Tout ce qui a été sera; tout ce qui sera a été. When an appreciative audience had had time to absorb this platitude he turned to Princess Ourousow and inquired, as he understood her also to be a devotee of letters, on what particular work she was then engaged. She replied that at that time she was occupying herself with German literature. German literature! said Victor Hugo; but what is there to read in German? Surely, she rejoined, you will at least concede me Goëthe? The seer reflected; "Le Goethe, oui, oui, il a fait quelque chose qui n'est pas mal, La Mort de Wallenstein." When she broke in with, "Pardon, maître, vous voulez dire Schiller, n'est-ce pas?" he disposed of her interruption with, "Goethe, Schiller—Schiller, Goethe, c'est la même chose!" Then with a flash of inspiration he continued: Non, Madame, croyez-moi, il n'y a eu que trois, l'Homère, le Dante et le Shakespeare; and, tapping his forehead with a gesture which seemed to imply that all three had combined to produce a fourth, he added, "Je les ai tous ici." The conversation closed with a reaffirmation of the oracular statement, "Tout ce qui a été sera; tout ce qui sera a été,"

A constancy, interrupted only by official infidelities, to my first love, poetry, has always made me happy to have been associated, during my term in charge of the Roman Embassy, with the inception of the scheme for acquiring the house where Keats died, and there inaugurating a Museum and Library dedicated to the memory of the two great English poets, whose graves lie under the Aurelian wall in the cemetery near the gate of San Paolo.

The project was first conceived by Mr. Robert Underwood Johnson, who at that time edited the Century Magazine. He spent a spring in Rome, to which he was eventually to return many years later for a brief period as American Ambassador. He and his fellow-countryman, my old friend, Henry Nelson Gay, whose studies in the Risorgimento had led him to adopt Rome as his residence, suggested to me that we should convene a small meeting of British and Americans who might be in sympathy with such a scheme, to which it appeared the more urgent to give early effect, as the incorporation of the house in an hotel was reported to be contemplated.

It happened that year that our poet-laureate, Mr. Alfred Austin, was residing at Albano, only a few miles from the city, and I naturally at once approached him and invited him to be present. To my amazement he excused himself from coming, and wrote that, in his opinion, a disproportionate amount of attention had been