CHAPTER XVI.

THE FRENCH ARMY AT ROME.

Of late years the attractions of Rome have been increased by the presence of the French army which is stationed there for the protection of the master-fisherman, the beloved head of the church on earth, against his own people. Whatever may be said of this French occupation politically, however displeasing it may be to the friends of Italian unity, no one can deny that, as a choice of evils, the French soldiers are very much the least, and they certainly are the most gentlemanly and agreeable men of their class anywhere to be found. Any traveller who has encountered the brusqueness and incivility of Italian, Austrian, and German troops, will feel grateful that none of these are placed at Rome. The French, on the contrary, are so extremely kind to every stranger that the pleasures of a residence at Rome would be greatly lessened by their absence. Their neat and picturesque uniform and soldierly bearing in the streets give the city a certain appearance of animation and vitality, which at present it sadly needs, while they contribute greatly to its safety from violence and robbery. And though not entirely secure now, when one

thinks how utterly unprotected he would be at Rome without them, he should feel very grateful. The French government has managed very judiciously at Rome: though firm in maintaining their position, they have almost invariably avoided any collision with the people, while they have used every means to conciliate them. Hence their rule has so far been extremely peaceful, and one never hears of those violent, and not unfrequently sanguinary quarrels, which so often occur in other garrisoned towns between the soldiers and the citizens. Yet in case of any threatened outbreak on the part of the Liberals, the iron hand of power is instantly stretched forth, and forests of bayonets and hundreds of schakos gleam in every piazza and side-street, sufficient to put down any uprising.

The French have been the cause of the few improvements which papal intolerance has permitted at Rome, and thus are equally disliked by the representative of the Prince of Peace and the Liberals by the former because they are too tolerant, by the latter because they are not enough so.

:

Yet

the Pope finds it necessary to keep on good terms with the soldiers and their imperial master, by inviting the former to the Vatican in small numbers, occasionally, and presenting them with little bronze medals bearing the inverted cross of St. Peter, which cost about one fifth of a cent apiece. He also bestows upon them many mild and beneficent, not to say hypocritical words, which cost still less.

It is owing to the French that a regular system

of cab-fares has during the past spring been established at Rome for the first time. They have thus secured the eternal gratitude of residents in that city, who have ever found the violent wrangling and extortions of the vetturini one of the great annoyances of their stay. At present, the rates of fare are printed on a card which every coachman is obliged to carry, and thus a vast amount of discussion is saved. It is also due to French influence that even beggary has received a blow from the authorities, who have suddenly swept thousands of ragged and whining vagabonds from the streets. Even Beppo, who, from the summit of a lofty flight of steps predominated over the Piazza di Spagna, and seemed as much a fixture at Rome as St. Peter's itself, has been torn from his throne. This sovereign of the beggars, an inheritor of noble blood, (as he is said to be,) this King Dolce-far-niente so far forgot his royal attributes as to throw mud and make faces and insulting remarks at a lady, who, in passing up the steps, had refused to contribute to his revenues. "The power behind the throne was therefore appealed to, his majesty was carried off to prison and deprived of his prerogatives, and many of his "lean, rent, and beggared" race followed him.

The French have tried to obtain the management of the police of Rome, and thus render life and property as secure in that city as at Paris. But this is something that the Pope never will intrust to other hands than his own. Though constrained to

eat or drink; how often they

allow to Louis Napoleon a certain share in the regulation of public affairs, he never will grant him any control over what is termed the administration of justice at Rome, nor any of the rights which he claims of interfering at any and all times in the private interests of his subjects. He must know everything that they do or say, where they go and when they go; present themselves at confession, and where their children attend school, if at all; what books they read, and what personal property they own; he must open their letters at the post-office, and discover who their friends are and the nature of their correspondence; his police must make domiciliary visits at dead of night; his spies must overhear and report all they say in café or restaurant, on the public streets or in the privacy of domestic life. And this is all reduced to writing, and stored away for future use among the records of the police. These are extremely voluminous, and their cost enormous; any respectable citizen of Rome can find at the police-office a biography of himself, written by this “wise, paternal, and just " government, almost as complete and extensive as Boswell's "Life of Johnson," though not perhaps so entertaining. This power the shepherd of souls will never surrender till he is compelled to do so, since it is what he calls "providing for the eternal welfare of his flock."

During the past year there have been in Rome itself from five to seven thousand French troops,

and about the same number distributed among the towns and villages of the Papal States. These numbers vary, however, from time to time, according to the course of political events. Those quartered in the city occupy for the most part the vacant rooms of monasteries, and watch over the city gates and public buildings; while a "guard of honor," with their regimental standard and a military band, are always stationed on the Piazza di San Pietro, for the protection of the Pope and the Vatican. The troops were composed of one regiment of hussars, embracing about 1200 men, six batteries of artillery, one regiment of chasseurs à pied, and one of infanterie de la ligne. The two latter regiments were extremely large, and consisted of nearly 2800 men each, though ordinarily of 2500. This was in consequence of the numerous new recruits sent from France and attached to these regiments for instruction, but not permanently. All the men wear the schako, or leather hat with a pompon bearing the number of their regiment, and whose color indicates their bataillon, a blue cotton cravat, blue tunic, loose, baggy trousers, (those of the chasseurs de la ligne, blue, of the infanterie, red,) leggings, gaiters, and shoes. The leggings, or jambières, are made of orange-colored leather, and cover the calf of the leg. They are strapped around the bottoms of the trousers, which hang over and partly cover them; while they are fastened down the leg by a series of leather loops ingeniously arranged so as to link into each other. In winter they wear