At the early hour of half past nine the haute societe, the Ministers, the Senators and Deputies—­in fact, all Rome—­were summoned to meet the Emperor at the Campidoglia.  It was to be lighted for the first time with electricity—­a great event.  People were to meet in the statue-gallery.  After all were assembled, the King, the Queen, and the Emperor entered, followed by the princes and their different suites.  The Emperor was dressed in the uniform of the garde de corps (all white) with a silver breastplate and silver helmet.  He was an apparition! and did not look unlike one of the statues.  Or was he a Lohengrin who had come in a swan-drawn skiff down the Tiber to save some Italian Elsa?

There were some presentations made.  I, for one, was presented to his Imperial Majesty, and was charmed with his graciousness.  We talked English, which I think rather pleased him, for he made some facetious remarks on things and people and actually laughed.

The next evening, the 18th, the fireworks and the illumination of the Forum, the Colosseum, and the Palatino, were the entertainment after a diner de famille.

The Diplomatic Corps was bidden to the Villino.  The place was rather too small to contain all the guests.  Fortunately, it was a pleasant evening; there was a full moon which lent charm to the scene.  Bengal lights, to my mind, are the cheapest form of illumination, but the fireworks—­for which the Italians are so renowned—­were splendid.  Rockets of all colors, bursting in mid-air and sending down showers of lighted balls, were never-ending, and everything belonging to pyrotechnics was in profusion and perfection.

The bouquet (which is the French for the apotheose) surpassed everything I had ever seen before.  It lasted several minutes.  When everything has burned out, only the brilliant “W” with an Imperial crown remained, and faded gradually away.

ROME, March, 1889.

Dear Aunt,—­Rome is placarded all over with blood-curdling pictures of “the Wild West Show” and portraits of our friend Buffalo Bill.  I call him “our friend,” although I can’t say I know him very well.  We traveled in the same car with him for a whole week on our way to California ten years ago.  That is not enough, is it?

I had never seen a Wild West Show and was most eager to go; besides, I wanted to see “our friend” in his professional character.  We made up a large party and went there en bande.

The tents were put up not far from the Vatican gardens, behind Castel St. Angelo.  None of us had ever been to such a performance, and we were all delighted at the marvelous feats of lassoing by the cowboys and the rifle-shooting of the cowgirls, who looked so pretty in their short leather skirts and leggings.  One of them threw pieces of silver in the air and shot them in two with her rifle.  Everything was wonderful.

Duke Sermoneta, who went with us, having read on the posters that Buffalo Bill professed to tame any wild or vicious horse, wished to test Buffalo Bill’s ability, and perhaps with a little maliciousness had ordered some of the wild horses from his estate to be brought to Rome.