There was no sign, no trace, scarce a symptom even of what had passed or
was passing in the world without. We all seemed spellbound in a dull,
dead, dreary circle. There were no advertisements in the streets, except
of devotional works for the coming season of Lent; no pamphlets or books
placed in the booksellers' windows, which by their titles even implied
the existence of the war and the revolution; no prints for sale of the
scenes of the campaign, or the popular heroes of the day. This was the
normal state of Rome, such as I had seen it in former years. Later on,
indeed, either the force of events, or a change in the counsels of the
Vatican, induced the Papacy to drop the defensive passive attitude which
constituted its real strength, and to adopt an active offensive policy,
which served rather to show the greatness of the dreaded danger than to
avert its occurrence. Still the increased animation, though perceptible
enough to a Roman, appeared to a stranger but a step above absolute
stagnation. I never could get over my astonishment at our utter
ignorance of what went on around and amongst us. About the state of
affairs in our two neighbouring countries, whether in free Tuscany or in
despotic Naples, we were entirely in the dark. What little news we got
was derived from chance reports of stray travellers, or from the French
and English newspapers.
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