Rome in 1860

by Edward Dicey

The Press of Rome boasts of three papers. There is the Giornale di Roma, the Diario Romano, and, last and least, the Vero Amico del Popolo. The three organs of Papal opinion bear a suspicious resemblance to each other. The Diary is a feeble reproduction of the Journal,

and the Peoples True Friend, which I never met with, save in one obscure café, is a yet feebler compound of the two; in fact, the Giornale di Roma is the only one of the lot that has the least pretence to the name of a newspaper; it is, indeed, the official paper, the London Gazette of Rome. It consists of four pages, a little larger in size than those of the Examiner, and with about as much matter as is contained in two pages of the English journal. The type is delightfully large, and the spaces between the lines are really pleasant to look at; next to a Roman editor, the position of a Roman compositor must be one of the easiest berths in the newspaper-world. Things are taken very easily here, and the Giornale never appears till six o’clock at night, so that writers and printers can take their pleasure and be in bed betimes. There is no issue on Sundays and Feast-days, which occur with delightful frequency. This ideal journal, too, has no fixed price. The case of any one being impatient enough about news to buy a single number seems hardly to be contemplated. The yearly subscription is seven scudi, which comes to between a penny and five farthings a number; but for a single copy you are asked half a paul, or twopence halfpenny.

This however must be regarded as a fancy price, as single copies are not an article on demand; they can only be obtained, by the way, at the office of the Gazette in the Via della Stamperia, and this office is closed from noon, I think, to sunset.

Suppose, for the sake of argument, there was an English newspaper at Rome. Let us consider what would be its summary of contents, this day on which I write. Putting aside foreign topics altogether, what might one naturally suppose would be the Roman news? There is the revolution in the Romagna; if private reports are not altogether false, there have been disturbances in the Marches; there is the question of the Congress, the rumoured departure of the French troops, the state of the adjoining kingdoms, the movements of the Pontifical army, and the promised Papal reforms. Add to all this, there is the recent mysterious attempt at murder in the Minerva hotel, about which all kinds of strange rumours are in circulation. Suppose too, which heaven forbid, that I was a Roman citizen, and had no means of catching sight of foreign newspapers, which is extremely probable, or understood no foreign language, which is more probable still;

what in this case should I learn from my sole source of information, my Giornale di Roma, about my own city and my own country, on this 19th of January, in the year of grace 1860?

The first fact brought before my eager gaze on taking up the paper, would be that yesterday was the feast of St Peter’s chair. Solemn mass was, I learn, performed in the cathedral, in the presence of “our Lord’s Holiness,” and a Latin oration pronounced in honour of the Sacred Chair. After the ceremony was over, it seems that the Senator of Rome, Marquis Mattei, presented an address to the Pope, with a copy of which I am kindly favoured. The Senator, in his own name and in that of his colleagues in the magistracy, declares, that “if at all times devotion to the Pontiff and loyalty to the Sovereign was the intense desire of his heart, it is more ardent to-day than ever, since he only re-echoes the sentiment of the whole Catholic world, which with wonderful unanimity proclaims its veneration for the august Father of the faithful, and offers itself, as a shield, to the Sovereign of Rome.” He adds, that “his mind revolts from those fallacious maxims, which some persons try to insinuate into the feeble minds

of the people, throwing doubts on the incontestable rights of the Church, and that he looks with contempt on such intrigues.” As however both the Senator and his colleagues are nominees of the Pope, and as a brother of the Marquis is a Cardinal, I feel sceptical as to the value of their opinion. The next paragraph tells me, that in order to testify their devotion to the Papacy the inhabitants of Rome illuminated their houses last night in honour of the feast. Unfortunately, I happened to walk out yesterday evening, and observed that the lamps were very few and far between, while in the only illuminated house I entered I found the proprietor grumbling at the expense which the priests had insisted on his incurring. I have then a whole column about the proceedings at the “Propaganda” on the festival of the Epiphany, now some days ago. The Archbishop of Thebes, I rejoice to learn, excited the pupils of the Academy to imitate the virtues manifested in the “Magi,” by an appropriate homily, drawing a striking parallel between the simplicity, the faith and honesty of the three kings, and the disbelief and hypocrisy of the wicked king Herod. I wonder if I have ever heard of Herod under a more modern name, and pass on to a passage,

written in italics, in order to attract my special attention. The “Propaganda” meeting is, I am informed, “a noble spectacle, which Rome alone can offer to the world; that Rome, which God has made the capital of His everlasting kingdom.” This concludes the whole of my domestic intelligence; all that I know, or am to know, about the state of my own country.

Then follows the foreign intelligence, under the heading of “Varieties.” Seventy pro-papal works have, I read, been published in France; indeed, the zeal in behalf of the Pontifical cause gains, day by day, so rapidly in that country, that “every one,” so some provincial paper says, “who can hold a pen in hand uses it in favour of justice and religion, upon the question of the Papacy.” So much for France. All I learn about Italy is that all writings in defence of the Pope are eagerly sought after and perused. Spanish affairs meet with more attention. An English vessel has been captured, it seems, freighted with 14,000 bayonets for Tangiers; and the shipwrecked crew of a French brig were all but massacred by the Moors, or rather, if they were not massacred, it was from no want of malignity on the part of the infidels. I have next an account of the opening

of the Victoria Bridge, Canada, interesting certainly, though I confess that some account, when the sewers in the Piazza di Spagna are likely to be closed, would possess more practical interest for myself. This paragraph is followed by two columns long of the American President’s letter to Congress; a subject on which, as a Roman citizen, I do not feel keenly excited.