The Life and Letters of John Gibson Lockhart
        Chapter 23: 1853-54
        John Gibson Lockhart to Charlotte Lockhart Hope, 2 November 1853
        
        
          
        
        
          
        
       
      
      
      
      
     
     
    
     “Rome, November 2, 1853. 
    
     “Dear Charlotte,—I
                                    had yesterday yours of October 21, which told me about a ball, &c. I have
                                    nothing so brilliant, I think, to communicate. Yes, on Sunday was the
                                    beatification of one Bobola, I think, a Polish Jesuit,
                                    however, murdered by the Russians one hundred years ago, and I then saw, ![]()
| 372 | LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART. |  | 
![]() for the first time, Pius
                                        IX., who looked very comfortable, blessing away right and left,
                                    between lines of French soldiers, who seemed to pay very little attention to
                                    the concern. Considerable crowd and lots of trumpets. The Pope gave a dinner a
                                    few days ago, which made some sensation. It was in a summer-house of the
                                    Vatican garden, and the guests the Grand Dukes of Tuscany, Borghesa, and
                                    another prince, Wiseman, and another
                                    cardinal. My ‘Professor’—that is, little dominie, who spends
                                    an hour in the morning to brush up my Italian, says the English Cardinal has
                                    come to get some dispensations connected with a late legal dispute about votes
                                    on monastic property. I have not made acquaintance with any Italians, except my
                                    doctor, who is a very agreeable one, and the Duke of
                                        Sermoneta, an accomplished one. They dine apparently wherever an
                                    English spread occurs, and the rest of the company has hitherto been about as
                                    unvaried. I dine out continually, mostly with Hay and Peter; but
                                    occasionally with Mrs. Sartoris, or her
                                    sister Fanny, who are good cicerones as
                                    to the picturesque points of view in the Campagna. Great excavations have been
                                    made since I was here on the line of the Appian Way, and many fine monuments
                                    revealed. For instance, one to Seneca, with
                                    a frieze, showing the chief circumstances of his life, and, very neatly, those
                                    of his death. Another, very large, but not near so old, is that of the baker, a
                                    favourite slave, that is, of some great man under
 for the first time, Pius
                                        IX., who looked very comfortable, blessing away right and left,
                                    between lines of French soldiers, who seemed to pay very little attention to
                                    the concern. Considerable crowd and lots of trumpets. The Pope gave a dinner a
                                    few days ago, which made some sensation. It was in a summer-house of the
                                    Vatican garden, and the guests the Grand Dukes of Tuscany, Borghesa, and
                                    another prince, Wiseman, and another
                                    cardinal. My ‘Professor’—that is, little dominie, who spends
                                    an hour in the morning to brush up my Italian, says the English Cardinal has
                                    come to get some dispensations connected with a late legal dispute about votes
                                    on monastic property. I have not made acquaintance with any Italians, except my
                                    doctor, who is a very agreeable one, and the Duke of
                                        Sermoneta, an accomplished one. They dine apparently wherever an
                                    English spread occurs, and the rest of the company has hitherto been about as
                                    unvaried. I dine out continually, mostly with Hay and Peter; but
                                    occasionally with Mrs. Sartoris, or her
                                    sister Fanny, who are good cicerones as
                                    to the picturesque points of view in the Campagna. Great excavations have been
                                    made since I was here on the line of the Appian Way, and many fine monuments
                                    revealed. For instance, one to Seneca, with
                                    a frieze, showing the chief circumstances of his life, and, very neatly, those
                                    of his death. Another, very large, but not near so old, is that of the baker, a
                                    favourite slave, that is, of some great man under ![]()
![]() Aurelian, and in this all the operations of
                                    the craft are cut in very bold relief. On either side, for two or three miles,
                                    you have these works still in progress; and the Pope drives out ever and anon
                                    to inspect, in company with his architect, Canina, who publishes, at enormous length, on every new
                                    discovery, a thick tome, for example, about the baker! The photographs of the
                                    antiquities are abundant, and mostly very excellent, but absurdly dear.
                                    Aurelian, and in this all the operations of
                                    the craft are cut in very bold relief. On either side, for two or three miles,
                                    you have these works still in progress; and the Pope drives out ever and anon
                                    to inspect, in company with his architect, Canina, who publishes, at enormous length, on every new
                                    discovery, a thick tome, for example, about the baker! The photographs of the
                                    antiquities are abundant, and mostly very excellent, but absurdly dear. 
    
     “I am certainly, since I wrote last, somewhat
                                    bettered as respects appetite; with eggs and fish I breakfast well, and with
                                    soup and fish dine tolerably. Meat not yet within my reach exactly, though once
                                    I did contrive to deal with part of a cold partridge. The weather is said to
                                    have been unfavourable; it is still as hot as English August, but with
                                    occasional rains, or rather floods. 
    
     “I will, for sake of Mary
                                        Monica, go to St. Monica’s tomb some
                                    day soon. 
    
    
    
    Frances Butler  [née Kemble]   (1809-1893)  
                  English actress and writer, daughter of Charles Kemble and Maria Theresa Kemble; on a
                        tour to America in 1834 she was unhappily married to Pierce Butler (1807-1867).
               
 
    Luigi Canina  (1795-1856)  
                  Italian archaeologist and professor of architecture at Turin; he restored interiors at
                        Alnwick Castle, Northumberland.
               
 
    Robert William Hay  (1786-1861)  
                  After education at Christ Church, Oxford, he was private secretary to Viscount Melville,
                        first lord of the Admiralty (1812) and permanent under-secretary of state for the colonies
                        (1825).
               
 
    
    Adelaide Kemble  (1815-1879)  
                  English soprano who studied music with John Braham; the daughter of Charles Kemble and
                        sister of Fanny Kemble, she retired following her marriage to Edward John Sartoris in
                        1842.
               
 
    John Gibson Lockhart  (1794-1854)  
                  Editor of the 
Quarterly Review (1825-1853); son-in-law of Walter
                        Scott and author of the 
Life of Scott 5 vols (1838).
               
 
    Mary Monica Maxwell-Scott  [née Hope-Scott]   (1852-1920)  
                  Of Abbotsford, author, the daughter of James Robert Hope-Scott and granddaughter of Sir
                        Walter Scott; in 1874 she married the Hon. Joseph Constable-Maxwell.
               
 
    
    Pope Pius IX.  (1792-1878)  
                  The Pope during the Victorian era, 1846-1878.
               
 
    Seneca  (4 BC c.-65)  
                  Roman statesman, philosopher, and tragic playwright, advisor to Nero and author of 
Medea,
                        
                     Troades, and 
Phaedra.