The past week in Rome was, as in other parts of the world, seven days long, but to Italians it must have seemed like seven ages.
In the midst of a perfect pandemonium of insults, assaults, challenges, blows, accusations, threats and other manifestations of a risen anger, Benito Mussolini, Premier of Italy, held his ground.
To a group of Fascist editors he said:
"This is the first of a series of meetings which will show the indestructible power of Fascism. It is grotesque to judge a battle or a war by the first maneuvre. After having won as regards the length of front, we must now win in depth. And we will win, that is final. My presentation of the electoral bill, medidated upon for a long time, is the beginning, not the end, and it offers the party an opportunity of winning a great political battle—a political, not only an electoral battle, I ask you to understand."
If Benito's optimism aroused the uproarious cheers of his followers, it left the Opposition press, long since inured to his bombastic rhetoric, stone cold. Such remarks as the following were the order of the day: "Italy cannot continue to be governed by a man who is four centuries behind, as Mussolini can only be compared to a lord of the 16th Century."
"Italy cannot be governed by a man who is implicated in a criminal trial."
Among the politicians of the Opposition, criticism was warped by anger. The Cesare Rossi memorandum—an indictment of Mussolini for having pre-sonally incited violence, by a Fascist under arrest in connection with the Matteotti murder—was frequently invoked and similar accusations were threatened.
It was clear that the Government was sick to death of the Opposition's attacks, that the Opposition was weary of the Government's talk without action, that the Italian people were fed to the teeth with both the Government and the Opposition. The Government decided on action. A rumor had reached it that its enemies were arming. On that pretext, eleven newspapers were seized in Rome, Milan, Turin; many homes of prominent Opposition leaders were searched.
There followed savage attacks by Communists upon Fascisti all over the country. In 48 hours, 17 people were hurt, 5 mortally wounded, 3 killed. Premier Mussolini appealed for order.
Opposition newspapers carried a fake story that a force of 60,000 Fascisti was marching on Rome to inaugurate a reign of terror. Eight newspapers in Rome, five in Milan, one in Turin, two in Genoa, five in Naples, two in Verona—23 in all—were seized, but were permitted to publish again after the offending story had been deleted.
The blazing fires of Mussolini's wrath were kindled. At the reopening of the Chamber of Deputies, the Premier appeared as a man possessed with the devil. The Government benches resounded with the thumps from his large, white hands. His heavy face was red with fury, his eyes flashed like a thousand daggers in the sunlight, his voice sounded like the bellow of a bull as he turned toward the Fascist Deputies and roared: