Lord Holland recounts his meeting with Caroline Murat in Rome in 1830. Even at this point—fifteen years after the execution of her husband, and nine years after the death of her brother Napoleon—she is still being hounded by the Allies, and her movements heavily surveilled and restricted. She is about to be driven from Rome prematurely, while visiting her sick mother. Lord Holland worries that he might even be denied entry into Naples simply for having visited her.

***

From The Journal of the Hon. Henry Edward Fox (afterwards fourth and last Lord Holland) 1818-1830; London, 1923. Pages 374-6.

June 21 [1830]. Rome. In the morning I wrote to Mme Murat expressing my hopes that I might be permitted to call upon her before she went, and begging her to appoint a time. The reply I received was a wish to see me at 3 o’clock. Of course I was punctual. Hortense’s apartment in the Palazzo Ruspoli, which she has lent her during her visit to Rome, I found all sossopra [upside-down]. The dinner was just over and the faquini [porters] were taking away the dinner things from a room full of half-packed trunks, boxes, waste paper, and in fact in perfect disorder. I was kept waiting a short time talking to the black, skinny, grinning dame-de-compagnie, before Mme Murat appeared. I was much struck with the great remains of beauty she still possesses. She is stout, and her figure is not good, but rather thick and stumpy; however, notwithstanding that, she is very graceful and dignified in her motions. Her complexion, which I had heard was blotched and bad, was very clear and her features are regular and small. Her mouth has a very peculiar expression of firmness and decision, which when it relaxes into a smile is uncommonly pretty and playful. She reminded me of the Dme of Bedford, tho’ her person is smaller and more delicate. Her voice is very sweet. She speaks French with a very strong Italian accent, but with great fluency.

When I first saw her she was extremely agitated, having received an intimation that the ten days first accorded her were to be limited to eight, and that she must depart to-morrow. She had sent to appeal, and had protested that having come to Rome to fulfil a sacred duty towards her mother, probably on her death-bed, that she would yield to force alone and not go into her carriage till the military came to order her to do so. Since she has been at Rome there have been no less than twelve meetings of the Corps Diplomatique, and several reams of paper have been filled. She told me, what I own I did not credit till afterwards it was confirmed by Gargarin, that Lord Stuart de Rothesay (who the other day refused to interfere in her behalf about some new lawsuit, because he said he was not authorized to do so by his employers) took upon his own responsibility, without having time to communicate with London, to sign a protest against her being permitted to remain at Rome. How completely we are become the instruments of these rotten old dynasties!!! She was expecting a reply to her last application, and had given her son-in-law, Rasponi, and Vannutelli rendezvous at the Coliseum, whither she begged me to accompany her, if I did not fear being seen in her carriage. Of course I went with her, tho’ I had some apprehension that I might, in consequence, be refused a passport to Naples. She had never seen any of the many interesting sights here, as in all the journies she made thro’ Rome, “ceux qui m’accompagnaient” [those who accompanied me] travelled so fast that she scarcely ever remained more than two or three hours in the town.

She speaks with much agitation at the persecution of the Allies towards her, and said she almost regrets having come, as now when she is torn away from her mother she must make up her mind to never meeting again on this side of the grave. However her vanity is considerably flattered by all the importance the foreign courts seem to attach to her movements, and the persecuting distinction they shew her in contrast to the other members of the Bonaparte family. All ideas of being still an object of admiration to men she has not relinquished, and she owned to me that had it not been for her love for Christine, “elle aura volontiers fait tourner la tête à ce cher Dudley.” [she will gladly have turned dear Dudley’s head.] She has much dignity, and yet nothing repulsive in her manner or the least etiquettical. We walked about the Coliseum for half an hour, while her black skeleton dame-de-compagnie struggled to the summit. At length Vannutelli and Rasponi returned with the ultimate reply of the Cardinal’s Secretary, that they would grant to-morrow, but that on the following day she must leave Rome. She turned very pale, her voice quivered from agitation. “Eh bien, je partirai quand on viendra me chasser. Une insulte de plus ou une insulte de moins ne leur coutera rien.” [Well, I’ll leave when they come to hunt me. One insult more or less will cost them nothing.] We drove by the Temple of Vesta to her mother’s. She was too absorbed to look much about her. I left her at her mother’s door, and went home where I tried to remain very quiet to undo the harm walking about and coming to Rome has done me.

***

this man is a menace

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William Shakespeare’s Avengers (Part 1/?)

AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR (2018)

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Kate Maberly (Mary Lennox) and John Lynch (Lord Archibald Craven) behind the scenes of The Secret Garden, 1993.

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A Star-Lord cover, back when he had a costume and super-powers, by Bob Larkin.

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Not the flyer of Comic Con Holland ✨yassifying✨ Tom Sturridge's Morpheus

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