
Third excerpt from the memoirs of Carlo Calcagni, a true Roman born almost one and a half century ago. Read the original version in Italian.
Read all excerpts posted so far in English or in Carlo’s original Italian text.
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I never really knew how these things went because my father shrank from talking about them and he used to say that all that didn’t matter since in this world one has to work for a living and must not count on others or on ephemeral hopes.
He told us: birth doesn’t matter, only work and honesty do. Look at our Lord: he has worked, he has toiled as a carpenter in the shop of Nazaret and then aside, quiet, by himself: yet he was from the stock of David.
The important fact, that always has roused my suspicion about some wrongdoing, some abuse or indelicacy from our relatives in the division, or actual assignment, of the hereditaments of the Calcagni family, is this: my father, who was adored by his relatives for his qualities of character and festivity, and who was by them greatly sought after, never lavished much affection on them.
He paid visits to the rich relation, sometimes bringing us along with him, he remained a ten minutes, greatly rejoiced and rejoicing, then he suddenly went away without almost saying goodbye and all was postponed until several months later. Certainly there must be a latent and suppressed conflict, maybe of interests, which is most powerful to disunite, embitter and bring along grief.
There was actually an unbridgeable gulf between my father’s way of life and judgement and that of all the paternal relatives I have known.

For example, when at a certain age the possibility was aired among the relatives of a first class collegio [boarding school or college, MoR] for the education of us small males of the kinsfolk more or less of the same age, a sort of family meeting was held. They told my father they thought of sending three or four young boys to Mondragone, the renowned collegio of the Jesuits near Frascati [see image above,] and they had my father understand that in case he wanted to send his boy (me) along with the others, as regarded the expenses they would all get together for a facilitation, for a helping hand.
My father replied:
“Thanks for the thought but I will bring up my son by myself.”
“Bravo!!! You will bring him up on the banks of the river …”
And my father:
“Yes, on the banks of the river, but with me … And we’re going to see who will better succeed.”
It is not to me to judge people who are partly dead and partly have drifted rather badly about the world; but certainly my education did not, and does not, suffer from any substantial deficiency compared to the education provided and received even in the best collegi. Quite the contrary …
Original version in Italian
Next chapters:
Calcagni’d Memoirs. Poverty and Father’s Funeral … (4)
Calcagni’s Memoirs. Elvira, the Eldest Sister … (5)
Calcagni’s Memoirs. Two Brats Meet Pope Leo XIII (6)
Che meraviglia!
Glad to see you’re posting again, and this topic suits your talent and vastly scoping knowledge magnificently.
Ciao amico mio,
Lola xx
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Grazie Lola,
I’m glad you like Calcagni’s life, which tells us something about a disappeared Rome. Tomorrow I will post Calcagni’s father’s funeral scene, a touching depiction of the old Trastevere life – one century ago, exactly.
Ciao carissima
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I can relate to that Carlo. His beginnings in life and his living in an impoverished sector of Rome. Some aspects bring me back to my own childhood and stirs lots of memories.
Looking forward to the continuation.
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I like the “voice” you have chosen to write this in. It is intriguing to read although I know nothing about Rome…I feel like I’m there!
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great blog!
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I always enjoy memoirs! Thanks – I love this slice of Roman life from bygone times.
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So.
You were “home-schooled”?
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“You” meaning “he” of course.
Sorry got caught up in the moment of Carlo’s upbringing.
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He went to a public school but his father also home-schooled him. He didn’t go to Mondragone, this famous boarding-school for young aristocrats (now no more.)
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