BATTLE BETWEEN CONSTANTINE AND MAXENTIUS
(From a painting by Giulio Romano, Francesco Penni and Raffaellino del Colle)

PAGAN AND CHRISTIAN
ROME

BY

RODOLFO LANCIANI

AUTHOR OF “ANCIENT ROME IN THE LIGHT OF RECENT DISCOVERIES”

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY

The Riverside Press, Cambridge

1893

Copyright, 1892,

BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.

All rights reserved.

The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A.

Electrotyped and Printed by H.O. Houghton & Co.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FULL-PAGE PLATES

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT

1PAGAN AND CHRISTIAN ROME.

It has been contended, and many still believe, that in
ancient Rome the doctrines of Christ found no proselytes,
except among the lower and poorer classes of citizens.
That is certainly a noble picture which represents the new
faith as searching among the haunts of poverty and slavery,
seeking to inspire faith, hope, and charity in their occupants;
to transform them from things into human beings;
to make them believe in the happiness of a future life; to
alleviate their present sufferings; to redeem their children
from shame and servitude; to proclaim them equal to their
masters. But the gospel found its way also to the mansions
of the masters, nay, even to the palace of the Cæsars.
The discoveries lately made on this subject are startling,
and constitute a new chapter in the history of imperial
Rome. We have been used to consider early Christian history
and primitive Christian art as matters of secondary
importance, and hardly worthy the attention of the classical
student. Thus, none of the four or five hundred volumes
on the topography of ancient Rome speaks of the3
basilicas raised by Constantine; of the church of S. Maria
Antiqua, built side by side with the Temple of Vesta, the
two worships dwelling together as it were, for nearly a century;
of the Christian burial-grounds; of the imperial
mausoleum near S. Peter’s; of the porticoes, several miles
in length, which led from the centre of the city to the
churches of S. Peter, S. Paul, and S. Lorenzo; of the
palace of the Cæsars transformed into the residence of the
Popes. Why should these constructions of monumental
and historical character be expelled from the list of classical
buildings? and why should we overlook the fact that
many great names in the annals of the empire are those of
members of the Church, especially when the knowledge of
their conversion enables us to explain events that had been,
up to the latest discoveries, shrouded in mystery?

It is a remarkable fact that the record of some of these
events should be found, not in church annals, calendars,
or itineraries, but in passages in the writings of pagan
annalists and historians. Thus, in ecclesiastical documents
no mention is made of the conversion of the two Domitillæ,
or Flavius Clemens, or Petronilla, all of whom were relatives
of the Flavian emperors; and of the Acilii Glabriones,
the noblest among the noble, as Herodianus calls them
(2, 3). Their fortunes and death are described only by the
Roman historians and biographers of the time of Domitian.
It seems that when the official feriale, or calendar, was
resumed, after the end of the persecutions, preference was
given to names of those confessors and martyrs whose
deeds were still fresh in the memory of the living, and of
necessity little attention was paid to those of the first and
second centuries, whose acts either had not been written
down, or had been lost during the persecutions.

As the crypt of the Acilii Glabriones on the Via Salaria4
has become one of the chief places of attraction, since its
re-discovery in 1888, I cannot begin this volume under better
auspices than by giving an account of this important
event.[2]

In exploring that portion of the Catacombs of Priscilla
which lies under the Monte delle Gioie, near the entrance
from the Via Salaria, de Rossi observed that the labyrinth
of the galleries converged towards an original crypt, shaped
like a Greek Γ (Gamma), and decorated with frescoes.
The desire of finding the name and the history of the first
occupants of this noble tomb, whose memory seems to have
been so dear to the faithful, led the explorers to carefully
sift the earth which filled the place; and their pains were
rewarded by the discovery of a fragment of a marble coffin,
inscribed with the letters: ACILIO GLABRIONI FILIO.

Tablet of Acilius Glabrio.

Did this fragment really belong
to the Γ crypt, or had it been thrown
there by mere chance? And in
case of its belonging to the crypt,
was it an isolated record, or did it
belong to a group of graves of the
Acilii Glabriones? The queries were fully answered by
later discoveries; four inscriptions, naming Manius Acilius … and
his wife Priscilla, Acilius Rufinus, Acilius Quintianus,
and Claudius Acilius Valerius were found among the
débris, so that there is no doubt as to the ownership of the
crypt, and of the chapel which opens at the end of the longer
arm of the Γ.

5The Manii Acilii Glabriones attained celebrity in the
sixth century of Rome, when Acilius Glabrio, consul in
563 (b. c. 191), conquered the Macedonians at the battle
of Thermopylai. We have in Rome two records of his
career: the Temple of Piety, erected by him on the west
side of the Forum Olitorium, now transformed into the
church of S. Nicola in Carcere; and the pedestal of the
equestrian statue, of gilt bronze, offered to him by his son,
the first of its kind ever seen in Italy, which was discovered
by Valadier in 1808, at the foot of the steps of the temple,
and buried again. Towards the end of the republic we
find them established on the Pincian Hill, where they had
built a palace and laid out gardens which extended at least
from the convent of the Trinità dei Monti to the Villa
Borghese.[3] The family had grown so rapidly to honor,
splendor, and wealth, that Pertinax, in the memorable sitting
of the Senate in which he was elected emperor, proclaimed
them the noblest race in the world.

The Glabrio best known in the history of the first
century is Manius Acilius, who was consul with Trajan,
a. d. 91. He was put to death by Domitian in the year
95, as related by Suetonius (Domit. 10): “He caused
several senators and ex-consuls to be executed on the
charge of their conspiring against the empire,—quasi
molitores rerum novarum,—among them Civica Cerealis,
governor of Asia, Salvidienus Orfitus, and Acilius Glabrio,
who had previously been banished from Rome.”

The expression molitores rerum novarum has a political
meaning in the case of Cerealis and Orfitus, both staunch
pagans, and a religious and political one in the case of6
Glabrio, a convert to the Christian faith, called nova superstitio
by Suetonius and Tacitus. Other details of Glabrio’s
fate are given by Dion Cassius, Juvenal, and Fronto. We
are told by these authors that during his consulship, a. d.
91, and before his banishment, he was compelled by Domitian
to fight against a lion and two bears in the amphitheatre
adjoining the emperor’s villa at Albanum. The
event created such an impression in Rome, and its memory
lasted so long that, half a century later, we find it given by
Fronto as a subject for a rhetorical composition to his pupil
Marcus Aurelius. The amphitheatre is still in existence,
and was excavated in 1887. Like the one at Tusculum, it
is partly hollowed out of the rocky side of the mountain,
partly built of stone and rubble work. It well deserves a
visit from the student and the tourist, on account of its
historical associations, and of the admirable view which its
ruins command of the vine-clad slopes of Albano and Castel
Savello, the wooded plains of Ardea and Lavinium, the
coast of the Tyrrhenian, and the islands of Pontia and
Pandataria.

Xiphilinus states that, in the year 95, some members of
the imperial family were condemned by Domitian on the
charge of atheism, together with other leading personages
who had embraced “the customs and persuasion of the
Jews,” that is, the Christian faith. Manius Acilius Glabrio,
the ex-consul, was implicated in the same trial, and condemned
on the same indictment with the others. Among
these the historian mentions Clemens and Domitilla, who
were manifestly Christians. One particular of the case,
related by Juvenal, confirms the account of Xiphilinus.
He says that in order to mitigate the wrath of the emperor
and avoid a catastrophe, Acilius Glabrio, after fighting the
wild beasts at Albanum, assumed an air of stupidity. In7
this alleged stupidity it is easy to recognize the prejudice
so common among the pagans, to whom the Christians’ retirement
from the joys of the world, their contempt of public
honors, and their modest behavior appeared as contemptissima
inertia, most despicable laziness. This is the very
phrase used by Suetonius in speaking of Flavius Clemens,
who was murdered by Domitian ex tenuissima suspicione,
on a very slight suspicion of his faith.

Map of the Via Salaria.

Glabrio was put to death in his place of exile, the name
of which is not known. His end helped, no doubt, the
propagation of the gospel among his relatives and descendants,
as well as among the servants and freedmen of the
house, as shown by the noble sarcophagi and the humbler
loculi found in such numbers in the crypt of the Catacombs
of Priscilla. The small oratory at the southern end
of the crypt seems to have been consecrated exclusively to
the memory of its first occupant, the ex-consul. The date
and the circumstances connected with the translation of8
his relics from the place of banishment to Rome are not
known.

Both the chapel and the crypt were found in a state of
devastation hardly credible, as though the plunderers had
taken pleasure in satisfying their vandalic instincts to the
utmost. Each of the sarcophagi was broken into a hundred
pieces; the mosaics of the walls and ceiling had been
wrenched from their sockets, cube by cube, the marble incrustations
torn off, the altar dismantled, the bones dispersed.

When did this wholesale destruction take place? In
times much nearer ours than the reader may imagine. I
have been able to ascertain the date, with the help of an
anecdote related by Pietro Sante Bartoli in § 144 of his
archæological memoirs: “Excavations were made under
Innocent X. (1634-1655), and Clement IX. (1667-1670),
in the Monte delle Gioie, on the Via Salaria, with the hope
of discovering a certain hidden treasure. The hope was
frustrated; but, deep in the bowels of the mound, some
crypts were found, encrusted with white stucco, and remarkable
for their neatness and preservation. I have heard
from trustworthy men that the place is haunted by spirits,
as is proved by what happened to them not many months
ago. While assembled on the Monte delle Gioie for a picnic,
the conversation turned upon the ghosts who haunted
the crypt below, when suddenly the carriage which had
brought them there, pushed by invisible hands, began to
roll down the slope of the hill, and was ultimately precipitated
into the river Anio at its base. Several oxen had to be
used to haul the vehicle out of the stream. This happened
to Tabarrino, butcher at S. Eustachio, and to his brothers
living in the Via Due Macelli, whose faces still bear marks
of the great terror experienced that day.”

9There is no doubt that the anecdote refers to the tomb
of the Acilii Glabriones, which is cut under the Monte delle
Gioie, and is the only one in the Catacombs of Priscilla remarkable
for a coating of white stucco. Its destruction,
therefore, took place under Clement IX., and was the work
of treasure-hunters. And the very nature of clandestine
excavations, which are the work of malicious, ignorant, and
suspicious persons, explains the reason why no mention of
the discovery was made to contemporary archæologists, and
the pleasure of re-discovering the secret of the Acilii Glabriones
was reserved for us.

These are by no means the only patricians of high standing
whose names have come to light from the depths of
the catacombs. Tacitus (Annal. xiii. 32) tells how Pomponia
Græcina, wife of Plautius, the conqueror of Britain,
was accused of “foreign superstition,” tried by her husband,
and acquitted. These words long since gave rise to
a conjecture that Pomponia Græcina was a Christian, and
recent discoveries put it beyond doubt. An inscription
bearing the name of ΠΟΜΠΟΝΙΟC ΓΡΗΚΕΙΝΟC has been
found in the Cemetery of Callixtus, together with other
records of the Pomponii Attici and Bassi. Some scholars
think that Græcina, the wife of the conqueror of Britain,
is no other than Lucina, the Christian matron who interred
her brethren in Christ in her own property, at the second
milestone of the Appian Way.

Other evidence of the conquests made by the gospel
among the patricians is given by an inscription discovered
in March, 1866, in the Catacombs of Prætextatus, near the
monument of Quirinus the martyr. It is a memorial raised
to the memory of his departed wife by Postumius Quietus,
consul a. d. 272. Here also was found the name of
Urania, daughter of Herodes Atticus, by his second wife,10
Vibullia Alcia,[4] while on the other side of the road, near
S. Sebastiano, a mausoleum has been found, on the architrave
of which the name URANIOR[UM] is engraved.

In chapter vii. I shall have occasion to refer to many
Christian relatives of the emperors Vespasian and Domitian.
Eusebius, in speaking of these Flavians, and particularly of
Domitilla the younger, niece of Domitian, quotes the authority
of the historian Bruttius. He evidently means Bruttius
Præsens, the illustrious friend of Pliny the younger,
and the grandfather of Crispina, the empress of Commodus.
In 1854, near the entrance to the crypt of the Flavians, at
Torre Marancia (Via Ardeatina), a fragment of a sarcophagus
was found, with the name of Bruttius Crispinus.
If, therefore, the history of Domitilla’s martyrdom was
written by the grandfather of Bruttia Crispina, the empress,
it seems probable that the two families were united not only
by the close proximity of their villas and tombs, and by
friendship, but especially by community of religion.

I may also cite the names of several Cornelii, Cæcilii, and
Æmilii, the flower of Roman nobility, grouped near the
graves of S. Cæcilia and Pope Cornelius; of Liberalis, a
consul suffectus,[5] and a martyr, whose remains were buried
in the Via Salaria; of Jallia Clementina, a relative of Jallius
Bassus, consul before a. d. 161; of Catia Clementina,
daughter or relative of Catius, consul a. d. 230, not to
speak of personages of equestrian rank, whose names have
been collected in hundreds.

A difficulty may arise in the mind of the reader: how
was it possible for these magistrates, generals, consuls,
officers, senators, and governors of provinces, to attend to11
their duties without performing acts of idolatry? In chapter
xxxvii. of the Apology, Tertullian says: “We are but of
yesterday, yet we fill every place that belongs to you, cities,
islands, outposts; we fill your assemblies, camps, tribes and
decuries; the imperial palace, the Senate, the forum; we
only leave to you your temples.” But here lies the difficulty;
how could they fill these places, and leave the temples?

First of all, the Roman emperors gave plenty of liberty
to the new religion from time to time; and some of them,
moved by a sort of religious syncretism, even tried to ally
it with the official worship of the empire, and to place
Christ and Jupiter on the steps of the same lararium. The
first attempt of the kind is attributed to Tiberius; he is
alleged to have sent a message to the Senate requesting
that Christ should be included among the gods, on the
strength of the official report written by Pontius Pilatus of
the passion and death of our Lord. Malala says that Nero
made honest inquiries about the new religion, and that,
at first, he showed himself rather favorable towards it; a
fact not altogether improbable, if we take into consideration
the circumstances of Paul’s appeal, his absolution, and
his relations with Seneca, and with the converts de domo
Cæsaris, “of the house of Cæsar.” Lampridius, speaking
of the religious sentiments of Alexander Severus, says:
“He was determined to raise a temple to Christ, and enlisted
him among the gods; a project attributed also to
Hadrian. There is no doubt that Hadrian ordered temples
to be erected in every city to an unknown god; and because
they have no statue we still call them temples of Hadrian.
He is said to have prepared them for Christ; but to have
been deterred from carrying his plan into execution by
the consideration that the temples of the old gods would12
become deserted, and the whole population turn Christian,
omnes christianos futuros.”[6]

The freedom enjoyed by the Church under Caracalla is
proved by the graffiti of the Domus Gelotiana, described
in my “Ancient Rome.”[7] The one caricaturing the crucifixion,
which is reproduced on p. 122 of that volume,
stands by no means alone in certifying to the spreading
of the faith in the imperial palace. The name of Alexamenos,
“the faithful,” is repeated thrice. There is also a
name, LIBANUS, under which another hand has written
EPISCOPUS, and, lower down, LIBANUS EPI[SCOPUS].
It is very likely a joke on Libanus, a Christian page like
Alexamenos, whom his fellow-disciples had nicknamed “the
bishop.” It is true that the title is not necessarily Christian,
having been used sometimes to denote a municipal
officer;[8] but this can hardly be the case in an assembly of
youths, like the one of the Domus Gelotiana; and the connection
between the graffiti of Libanus and those of Alexamenos
seems evident. In reading these graffiti, now very
much injured by dampness, exposure, and the unscrupulous
hands of tourists, we are really witnessing household quarrels
between pagan and Christian dwellers in the imperial
palace, in one of which Caracalla, when still young, saw
one of his playmates struck and punished on account of
his Christian origin and persuasion.

Septimius Severus and Caracalla issued a constitution,13[9]
which opened to the Jews the way to the highest honors,
making the performance of such ceremonies as were in
opposition to the principles of their faith optional with
them. What was granted to the Jews by the law of the
empire may have been permitted also to the Christians by
the personal benevolence of the emperors.

Portrait Bust of Philip the Younger.

When Elagabalus collected, or tried to collect, in his own
private chapel the gods and the holiest relics of the universe,
he did not forget Christ and his doctrine.[10] Alexander
Severus, the best of Roman rulers, gave full freedom
to the Church; and once, the Christians having taken possession
of a public place on which the popinarii, or tavern-keepers,
claimed rights, Alexander gave judgment in favor
of the former, saying it was
preferable that the place
should serve for divine worship,
rather than for the sale
of drinks.[11]

There can scarcely be any
doubt that the emperor Philip
the Arab (Marcus Julius Philippus,
a. d. 244), his wife
Otacilia Severa, and his son
Philip the younger were Christians,
and friends of S. Hippolytus.
Still, in spite of these
periods of peace and freedom
of the Church, we cannot be
blind to the fact that for a
Christian nobleman wishing
to make a career, the position was extremely hazardous.14
Hence we frequently see baptism deferred until mature or
old age, and strange situations and even acts of decided
apostasy created by mixed marriages.

The wavering between public honors and Christian retirement
is illustrated by some incidents in the life of
Licentius, a disciple of S. Augustine. Licentius was the
son of Romanianus, a friend and countryman of Augustine;
and when the latter retired to the villa of Verecundus, after
his conversion, in the year 386, Licentius, who had attended
his lectures on eloquence at Milan, followed him to his retreat.
He appears as one of the speakers in the academic
disputes which took place in the villa.[12] In 396, Licentius,
who had followed his master to Africa, seduced by the
hopes of a brilliant career, determined to settle in Rome.
Augustine, deeply grieved at losing his beloved pupil, wrote
to call him back, and entreated him to turn his face from
the failing promises of the world. The appeal had no
effect, and no more had the epistles, in prose and verse, addressed
to him for the same purpose by Paulinus of Nola.
Licentius, after finishing the course of philosophy, being
scarcely a catechumen, and a very unsteady one at that, entered
a career for public honors. Paulinus of Nola describes
him as aiming not only at a consulship, but also at
a pagan pontificate, and reproaches and pities him for his
behavior. After this, we lose sight of Licentius in history,
but a discovery made at S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura in December,
1862, tells us the end of the tale. A marble sarcophagus
was found, containing his body, and his epitaph.
This shows that Licentius died in Rome in 406, after having
reached the end of his desires, a place in the Senate; and15
that he died a Christian, and was buried near the tomb of
S. Lorenzo. This sarcophagus, hardly noticed by visitors
in spite of its great historical associations, is preserved in
the vestibule of the Capitoline Museum.

Inscription found near the Porta del Popolo, 1877.

As regards mixed marriages, a discovery made in 1877,
near the Porta del Popolo, has revealed a curious state of
things. In demolishing one of the towers by which Sixtus
IV. had flanked that gate, we found a fragment of an inscription
of the second century, containing these strange
and enigmatic words: “If any one dare to do injury to
this structure, or to otherwise disturb the peace of her who
is buried inside, because she, my daughter, has been [or
has appeared to be] a pagan among the pagans, and a
Christian among the Christians” … Here followed the
specification of the penalties which the violator of the tomb
would incur. It was thought at first that the phrase quod
inter fedeles fidelis fuit, inter alienos pagana fuit had
been dictated by the father as a jocose hint of the religious
inconsistency of the girl; but such an explanation can
hardly be accepted. A passage of Tertullian in connection
with mixed marriages leads us to the true understanding of
the epitaph. In the second book Ad Uxorem, Tertullian
describes the state of habitual apostasy to which Christian
girls marrying gentiles willingly exposed or submitted themselves,16
especially when the husband was kept in ignorance
of the religion of the bride. He mentions the risks they
would incur of betraying their conscience by accompanying
their husbands to state or civil ceremonies, thus sanctioning
acts of idolatry by the mere fact of their presence. In
the book De Corona, he concludes his argument with the
words: “These are the reasons why we do not marry infidels,
because such marriages lead us back to idolatry and
superstition.” The girl buried on the Via Flaminia, by the
modern Porta del Popolo, must have been born of a Christian
mother and a good-natured pagan father; still, it
seems hardly consistent with the respect which the ancients
had for tombs that he should be allowed to write such extraordinary
words on that of his own daughter.

We must not believe, however, that gentiles and Christians
lived always at swords’ points. Italians in general,
and Romans in particular, are noted for their great tolerance
in matters of religion, which sometimes degenerates
into apathy and indifference. Whether it be a sign of
feebleness of character, or of common sense, the fact is, that
religious feuds have never been allowed to prevail among
us. In no part of the world have the Jews enjoyed more
freedom and tolerance than in the Roman Ghetto. The
same feelings prevailed in imperial Rome, except for occasional
outbursts of passion, fomented by
the official persecutors.

Inscription in a tomb of the Via Severiana at Ostia.

An inscription was discovered at Ostia, in
January, 1867, in a tomb of the Via Severiana,
of which I append an accurate copy.

The tomb and the inscription are purely
pagan, as shown by the invocation to the
infernal gods, Diis Manibus. This being
the case, how can we account for the names of Paul and17
Peter, which, taken separately, give great probability, and
taken together give almost absolute certainty, of having
been adopted in remembrance of the two apostles? One
circumstance may help us to explain the case: the preference
shown for the name of Paul over that of Peter; the
former was borne by both father and son, the latter appears
only as a surname given to the son. This fact is
not without importance, if we recollect that the two men
who show such partiality for the name of Paul belong
to the family of Anneus Seneca, the philosopher, whose
friendship with the apostle has been made famous by a
tradition dating at least from the beginning of the fourth
century. The tradition rests on a foundation of truth.
The apostle was tried and judged in Corinth by the proconsul
Marcus Anneus Gallio, brother of Seneca; in Rome
he was handed over to Afranius Burro, prefect of the prætorium,
and an intimate friend of Seneca. We know,
also, that the presence of the prisoner, and his wonderful
eloquence in preaching the new faith, created a profound
sensation among the members of the prætorium and of the
imperial household. His case must have been inquired
into by the philosopher himself, who happened to be consul
suffectus at the time. The modest tombstone, discovered
by accident among the ruins of Ostia, gives us the
evidence of the bond of sympathy and esteem established,
in consequence of these events, between the Annei and the
founders of the Church in Rome.

Its resemblance to the name of the Annei reminds me of
another remarkable discovery connected with the same city,
and with the same question. There lived at Ostia, towards
the middle of the second century, a manufacturer of pottery
and terracottas, named Annius Ser……, whose lamps were
exported to many provinces of the empire. These lamps18
are generally ornamented with the image of the Good
Shepherd; but they show also types which are decidedly
pagan, such as the labors of Hercules, Diana the huntress,
etc. It has been surmised that Annius Ser…… was
converted to the gospel, and that the adoption of the symbolic
figure of the Redeemer on his lamps was a result
of his change of religion; but to explain
the case it is not necessary to
accept this theory. I believe he was
a pagan, and that the lamps with the
Good Shepherd were produced by
him to order, and from a design
supplied to him by a member of the
local congregation.

Lamp of Annius Ser……, with figure of the Good Shepherd.

Another question concerning the
behavior of early Christians has reference
to their military service under
the imperial eagles, and to the
cases of conscience which may have
arisen from it. On this I may refer the reader to the works
of Mamachi, Lami, Baumgarten, Le Blant, and de Rossi,[13]
who have discussed the subject thoroughly. Speaking from
the point of view of material evidence, I have to record
several discoveries which prove that officers and men of the
cohortes prætoriæ and urbanæ could serve with equal loyalty
their God and their sovereign.

In November, 1885, I was present at the discovery of a
marble sarcophagus in the military burial-grounds of the Via
Salaria, opposite the gate of the Villa Albani. It bore two
inscriptions, one on the lid, the other on the body. The
first defies interpretation;[14] the second mentions the name19
of a little girl, Publia Ælia Proba, who was the daughter of
a captain of the ninth battalion of the prætorians, and a
lady named Clodia Plautia. They were all Christians; but
for a reason unknown to us, they avoided making a show
of their persuasion, and were buried among the gentiles.

Another stray Christian military tomb, erected by a captain
of the sixth battalion, named Claudius Ingenuus, was
found, in 1868, in the Vigna Grandi, near S. Sebastiano.
Here also we find the intention of avoiding an open profession
of faith. A regular cemetery of Christian prætorians
was found in the spring of the same year by Marchese
Francesco Patrizi, in his villa adjoining the prætorian
camp. It is neither large nor interesting, and it seems to
prove that the gospel must have made but few proselytes
in the imperial barracks.

We must not believe that the transformation of Rome
from a pagan into a Christian city was a sudden and unexpected
event, which took the world by surprise. It was the
natural result of the work of three centuries, brought to
maturity under Constantine by an inevitable reaction against
the violence of Diocletian’s rule. It was not a revolution
or a conversion in the true sense of these words; it was the
official recognition of a state of things which had long
ceased to be a secret. The moral superiority of the new
doctrines over the old religions was so evident, so overpowering,
that the result of the struggle had been a foregone
conclusion since the age of the first apologists. The20
revolution was an exceedingly mild one, the transformation
almost imperceptible. No violence was resorted to, and
the tolerance and mutual benevolence so characteristic of
the Italian race was adopted as the fundamental policy of
State and Church.

The transformation may be followed stage by stage in
both its moral and material aspect. There is not a ruin of
ancient Rome that does not bear evidence of the great
change. Many institutions and customs still flourishing in
our days are of classical origin, and were adopted, or tolerated,
because they were not in opposition to Christian
principles. Beginning with the material side of the question,
the first monument to which I have to refer is the
Arch of Constantine, raised in 315 at the foot of the
Palatine, where the Via Triumphalis diverges from the
Sacra Via.

ARCH OF CONSTANTINE

The importance of this arch, from the point of view of
the question treated in this chapter, rests not on its sculptured
panels and medallions,—spoils taken at random from
older structures, from which the arch has received the nickname
of Æsop’s crow (la cornacchia di Esopo),—but on
the inscription engraved on each side of the attic. “The
S. P. Q. R. have dedicated this triumphal arch to Constantine,
because instinctu divinitatis (by the will of God),
and by his own virtue, etc., he has liberated the country
from the tyrant [Maxentius] and his faction.” The opinion
long prevailed among archæologists that the words
instinctu divinitatis were not original, but added after
Constantine’s conversion. Cardinal Mai thought that the
original formula was diis faventibus, “by the help of the
gods,” while Henzen suggested nutu Iovis optimi maximi,
“by the will of Jupiter.” Cavedoni was the first to declare
that the inscription had never been altered, and that21
the two memorable words—the first proclaiming officially
the name of the true God in the face of imperial Rome—belonged
to the original text, sanctioned by the Senate.
The controversy was settled in 1863, when Napoleon III.
obtained from the Pope the permission to make a plaster
cast of the arch. With the help of the scaffolding, the
scholars of the time examined the inscription, the shape of
each letter, the holes of the bolts by which the gilt-bronze
letters were fastened, the joints of the marble blocks, the
color and quality of the marble, and decided unanimously
that the inscription had never been tampered with, and that
none of its letters had been changed.

The arch was raised in 315. Was Constantine openly
professing his faith at that time? Opinions are divided.
Some think he must have waited until the defeat of Licinius
in 323; others suggest the year 311 as a more probable
date of his profession. The supporters of the first theory
quote in its favor the fact that the pagan symbols and
images of gods appear on coins struck by Constantine and
his sons; but this fact is easily explained, when we consider
that the coinage of bronze was a privilege of the Senate,
and that the Senate was pagan by a large majority. Many
of Constantine’s constitutions and official letters speak in
favor of an early declaration of faith. When the Donatists
appealed to him from the verdict of the councils of
Arles and Rome, he wrote to the bishops: Meum judicium
postulant, qui ipse judicium Christi expecto: “They appeal
to me, when I myself must be judged by Christ.”
The verdict of the council of Rome against the sectarians
was rendered on October 2, 313, in the “palace of Fausta
in the Lateran;” the imperial palace of the Lateran, therefore,
had already been handed over to the bishop of Rome,
and a portion of it turned into a place of worship. The22
basilica of the Lateran still retains its title of “Mother and
head of all churches of Rome, and of the world,” ranking
above those of S. Peter and S. Paul in respect to age.

Such being the state of affairs when the triumphal arch
was erected, nothing prevents us from believing those two
words to be original, and to express the relations then existing
between the first Christian emperor and the old pagan
Senate. At all events, nothing is more uncompromising
than these two words, because the titles of Deus summus,
Deus altissimus, magnus, æternus, are constantly found on
monuments pertaining to the worship of Atys and Mithras.
“These words,” concludes de Rossi, “far from being a
profession of Christianity engraved on the arch at a later
period, are simply a ‘moyen terme,’ a compromise, between
the feelings of the Senate and those of the emperor.”[15]

Many facts related by contemporary documents prove
that the change of religion was, at the beginning, a personal
affair with the emperor, and not a question of state;
the emperor was a Christian, but the old rules of the empire
were not interfered with. In dealing with his pagan subjects
Constantine showed so much tact and impartiality as
to cast doubts upon the sincerity of his conversion. He
has been accused of having accepted from the people of
Hispellum (Spello, in Umbria), the honor of a temple, and
from the inhabitants of Roman Africa that of a priesthood
for the worship of his own family (sacerdotium Flaviæ
gentis). The exculpation is given by Constantine himself
in his address of thanks to the Hispellates: “We are
pleased and grateful for your determination to raise a temple
in honor of our family and of ourselves; and we accept23
it, provided you do not contaminate it with superstitious
practices.” The honor of a temple and of a priesthood,
therefore, was offered and accepted as a political demonstration,
as an act of loyalty, and as an occasion for public
festivities, both inaugural and anniversary.

Picture of Orpheus found in the Catacombs of Priscilla.

In accepting rites and customs which were not offensive
to her principles and morality, the Church showed equal
tact and foresight, and contributed to the peaceful accomplishment
of the transformation. These rites and customs,
borrowed from classical times, are nowhere so conspicuous
as in Rome. Giovanni Marangoni, a scholar of the
last century, wrote a book on this subject which is full of
valuable information.[16] The subject is so comprehensive, and
in a certain sense so well known, that I must satisfy myself
by mentioning only a few particulars connected with recent
discoveries. First, as to symbolic images allowed in churches
and cemeteries. Of Orpheus playing on the lyre, while
watching his flock, as a substitute for the Good Shepherd,
there have been found in the catacombs four paintings, two
reliefs on sarcophagi, one engraving on a gem. Here is
the latest representation discovered, from the Catacombs of
Priscilla (1888).

The Four Seasons, from the Imperial Palace, Ostia.

24The belief that the sibyls had prophesied the advent of
Christ made their images popular. The church of the
Aracœli is particularly associated with them, because tradition
refers the origin of its name to an altar—ARA
PRIMOGENITI DEI—raised to the son of God by the
emperor Augustus, who had been warned of his advent by
the sibylline books. For this reason the figures of Augustus
and of the Tiburtine sibyl are painted on either side of
the arch above the high altar. They have actually been
given the place of honor in this church; and formerly,
when at Christmas time the Presepio was exhibited in the
second chapel on the left, they occupied the front row, the
sibyl pointing out to Augustus the Virgin and the Bambino
who appeared in the sky in a halo of light. The two figures,
carved in wood, have now disappeared; they were
given away or sold thirty years ago, when a new set of25
images was offered to the Presepio by prince Alexander
Torlonia. Prophets and sibyls appear also in Renaissance
monuments; they were modelled by della Porta in the Santa
Casa at Loretto, painted by Michelangelo in the Sistine
chapel, by Raphael in S. Maria della Pace, by Pinturicchio
in the Borgia apartments, engraved by Baccio Baldini, a
contemporary of Sandro Botticelli, and “graffite” by Matteo
di Giovanni in the pavement of the Duomo at Siena.

The images of the Four Seasons are not uncommon on
Christian sarcophagi. The latest addition to this class
of subjects is to be found in the church of S. Paolo alle
Tre Fontane. Four medallions of polychrome mosaic, representing
the Hiems, Ver, Æstas, and Autumnus, discovered
in the so-called imperial palace at Ostia, were inserted
in the pavement of this church by order of Pius IX.
Galenus and Hippokrates, manipulating medicines and cordials,
were painted in the lower basilica at Anagni, Hermes
Trismegistos was represented in mosaic in the Duomo of
Siena, the labors of Hercules were carved in ivory in the
cathedra of S. Peter’s. Montfaucon describes the tomb
of the poet Sannazzaro in the church of the Olivetans,
Naples, as ornamented with the statues of Apollo and Minerva,
and with groups of satyrs. In the eighteenth
century the ecclesiastical authorities tried to give a less
profane aspect to the composition, by engraving the name
of David under the Apollo, and of Judith under the Minerva.
Another mixture of sacred and profane conceptions
is to be found in the names of some of our Roman
churches,—as S. Maria in Minerva, S. Stefano del Cacco
(Kynokephalos), S. Lorenzo in Matuta, S. Salvatore in
Tellure, all conspicuous landmarks in the history of the
transformation of Rome.

I shall mention one more instance. The portrait bust of26
S. Paul, of silver gilt, from the chapel of the Sancta Sanctorum,
was loaded with gems and intaglios of Greek or
Græco-Roman workmanship, among which was a magnificent
cameo with the portrait-head of Nero, which had
been worn, most probably,
by the very murderer of
the apostle.[17]

Ancient Candelabrum in the church of SS. Nereo ed Achilleo.

In the next chapter I shall speak of ancient temples
as museums of statuary, galleries of pictures,
and cabinets of precious objects. I need not describe
the acceptance and development of this tradition by
the Church. To it we are indebted for the inexhaustible
wealth in works of art of every kind, of which
Italy is so proud. But in the period which elapsed
between the fall of the empire and the foundation of
the Cosmati school, the Christians were compelled,
by the want of contemporary productions, to borrow
works of art and decorative fragments from temples, palaces, and tombs. The
gallery of the Candelabra, in the Vatican museum, has27
been formed mostly of specimens formerly set up in
churches. The accompanying cut represents the candelabrum
still existing in the church of SS. Nereo ed Achilleo,
one of the most exquisite and delicate works of the
kind. The Biga, or two-horse chariot, in the Vatican, was
used for centuries as an episcopal throne in the choir of S.
Mark’s. In the church of the Aracœli there was an altar
dedicated to Isis by some one who had returned safely
from a perilous journey. This bore the conventional emblem
of two footprints, which were believed by the Christians
to be the footprints of the angel seen by Gregory
the Great on the summit of Hadrian’s tomb. Philip de
Winghe describes them as those of a puer quinquennis, a
boy five years old.[18] This curious relic has been removed
to the Capitoline Museum.

The indifference with which these profane and sometimes
offensive works were admitted within sacred edifices is astonishing.
The high altar in the church of S. Teodoro
was supported, until 1703, by a round ara, on the rim of
which the following words are now engraved: “On this
marble of the gentiles incense was offered to the gods.”
Another altar, in the church of S. Michele in Borgo, was
covered with bas-reliefs and legends belonging to the superstition
of Cybele and Atys; a third, in the church of the
Aracœli, had been dedicated to the goddess Annona by an
importer of wheat. The pavement of the basilica of S.
Paul was patched with nine hundred and thirty-one miscellaneous
inscriptions; and so were those of S. Martino ai
Monti, S. Maria in Trastevere, SS. Giovanni e Paolo, etc.
We have one specimen left of these inscribed pavements in
the church of SS. Quattro Coronati on the Cælian, which
may be called an epigraphic museum.

28


The Templum Sacræ Urbis (SS. Cosma e Damiano).

In the third chapter I shall have occasion to describe the
transformation of nearly all the great public buildings of
imperial Rome into places of Christian worship, but it falls
within the scope of this chapter to remark that, in many
instances, the pagan decorations of those buildings were
not affected by the change. When Felix IV. took possession
of the templum sacræ urbis, and dedicated it to SS.
Cosma and Damianus, the walls of the building were covered
with incrustations of the time of Septimius Severus
representing the wolf and other profane emblems. Pope
Felix not only accepted them as an ornament to his church,
but tried to copy them in the apse which he rebuilt. The
same process was followed by Pope Simplicius (a. d. 468-483),
in transforming the basilica of Junius Bassus on the
Esquiline into the church of S. Andrea.[19] The faithful,29
raising their eyes towards the tribune, could see the figures
of Christ and his apostles in mosaic; turning to the
side walls, they could see Nero, Galba, and six other Roman
emperors, Diana hunting the stag, Hylas stolen by the
nymphs, Cybele on the chariot drawn by lions, a lion attacking
a centaur, the chariot of Apollo, figures performing
mysterious Egyptian rites, and other such profanities,
represented in opus sectile marmoreum, a sort of Florentine
mosaic. This unique set of intarsios was destroyed in
the sixteenth century by the French Antonian monks for a
reason worth relating. They believed that the glutinous
substance by which the layer of marble or mother-of-pearl
was kept fast was an excellent remedy against the ague;
hence every time one of them was attacked by fever, a portion
of those marvellous works was sacrificed. Fever must
have raged quite fiercely among the French monks, because
when this wanton practice was stopped, only four30
pictures were left. Two are now preserved in the church
of S. Antonio, in the chapel of the saint; two in the
Palazzo Albani del Drago alle Quattro Fontane, on the
landing of the stairs.[20]

Mosaic from the church of S. Andrea.

Intarsios of the same kind have been seen and described
in the basilica of S. Croce in Gerusalemme, in the church
of S. Stefano Rotondo, in that of S. Adriano, etc. When
the offices adjoining the Senate Hall were transformed into
the church of S. Martina, the side walls were adorned with
the bas-reliefs of the triumphal arch of M. Aurelius, now
in the Palazzo dei Conservatori (first landing, nos. 42, 43,
44). One of them, representing the emperor sacrificing
before the Temple of Jupiter, is given opposite page 90.

The decoration of the churches, like that of the temples,
was mostly done by private contributions and gifts of works
of art. The laying out of the pavement, for instance, or
the painting of the walls was apportioned to voluntary subscribers,
each of whom was entitled to inscribe his name on
his section of the work. The pavement of the lower basilica
of Parenzo, in Dalmatia, is divided into mosaic panels of
various sizes, representing vases, wreaths, fish, and animals;
and to each panel is appended the name of the contributor:—

“Lupicinus and Pascasia made one hundred [square] feet.

“Clamosus and Successa, one hundred feet.

“Felicissimus and his relatives, one hundred feet.

“Fausta, the patrician, and her relatives, sixty feet.

31“Claudia, devout woman, and her niece Honoria, made
one hundred and ten feet, in fulfilment of a vow.”[21]

Theseus killing the Minotaur in the labyrinth of Crete,
and labyrinths in general, were favorite subjects for church
pavements, especially among the Gauls. The custom is
very ancient, a labyrinth having been represented in the
church of S. Vitale at Ravenna as early as the sixth century.
Those of the cathedral at Lucca, of S. Michele Maggiore
at Pavia, of S. Savino at Piacenza, of S. Maria in
Trastevere at Rome (destroyed in the restoration of 1867),
are of a later date. The image of Theseus is accompanied
by a legend in the “leonine” rhythm:—

Theseus intravit, monstrumque biforme necavit.

The symbolism of the subject is explained thus: The labyrinth,
so easy of access, but from which no one can escape,
is symbolical of human life. At the time of the Crusades,
church labyrinths began to be used for a practical purpose.
The faithful were wont to go over the meandering paths
on their knees, murmuring prayers in memory of the passion
of the Lord. Under the influence of this practice the
classic and Carolingian name—labyrinth—was forgotten;
and the new one of rues de Jerusalem, or leagues, adopted.
The rues de Jerusalem in the cathedral at Chartres, designed
in blue marble, were 666 feet long; and it took
an hour to finish the pilgrimage. Later the labyrinths
lost their religious meaning, and became a pastime for
idlers and children. The one in the church at Saint-Omer
has been destroyed, because the celebration of the
office was often disturbed by irreverent visitors trying the
sport.[22]

32

In Rome we have several instances of these private artistic
contributions in the service of churches. The pavement
of S. Maria in Cosmedin is the joint offering of many parishioners;
and so were those of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura
and S. Maria Maggiore before their modern restoration.
The names of Beno de Rapiza, his wife Maria Macellaria,
and his children Clement and Attilia are attached to the
frescoes of the lower church of S. Clemente; and that of
Beno alone to the paintings of S. Urbano alla Caffarella.
In the apse of S. Sebastiano in Pallara, on the Palatine,
and in that of S. Saba on the Aventine, we read the names
of a Benedictus and of a Saba, at whose expense the apses
were decorated.

We cannot help following with emotion the development
of this artistic feeling even among the lowest classes of
mediæval Rome.[23] We read of an Ægidius, son of Hippolytus,
a shoemaker of the Via Arenula, leaving his substance
to the church of S. Maria de Porticù, with the request
that it should be devoted to the building of a chapel,
“handsome and handsomely painted, so that everybody
should take delight in looking at it.” Such feelings, exceptional
in many Italian provinces, were common throughout
Tuscany. When the triptych of Duccio Buoninsegna,
now in the “Casa dell’ opera” at Siena, was carried from
his studio to the Duomo, June 9, 1310, the whole population
followed in a triumphant procession. Renzo di Maitano,
another Sienese artist of fame, had the soul of a poet.
He was the first to advocate the erection of a church,
“grand, beautiful, magnificent, whose just proportions in33
height, breadth, and length should so harmonize with the
details of the decoration as to make it decorous and solemn,
and worthy of the worship of Christ in hymns and canticles,
for the protection and glory of the city of Siena.” So
spoke the artists of that age, and their language was understood
and felt by the multitudes. Their lives were made
bright and cheerful in spite of the troubles and misfortunes
which weighed upon their countries. Think of such sentiments
in our age!

THE TRANSLATION OF S. CYRIL’S REMAINS
(Fresco in S. Clemente, done at the order of Maria Macellaria)

But I am digressing from my subject. Another step of
the religious and material transformation of the city is
marked by the substitution of chapels and shrines for the
old aræ compitales, at the crossings of the main thoroughfares.
The institution of altars in honor of the Lares, or
guardian genii of each ward or quarter, is ancient, and can
be traced to prehistoric times. When Servius Tullius enclosed
the city with his walls, there were twenty-four such
altars, called sacraria Argeorum. Two facts speak in
favor of their remote antiquity. The priestess of Jupiter
was not allowed to sacrifice on them, unless in a savage
attire, with hair unkempt and untrimmed. On the 17th of
May, the Vestals used to throw into the Tiber, from the Sublician
bridge, manikins of wickerwork, in commemoration
of the human sacrifices once performed on the same altars.

When Augustus reorganized the capital and its wards,
in the year 7 b. c., the number of street-shrines had grown
to more than two hundred. Two hundred and sixty-five
were registered, a. d. 73, in the census of Vespasian; three
hundred and twenty-four at the time of Constantine. A
man of much leisure, and evidently of no occupation, the
cavaliere Alessandro Rufini, numbered and described the
shrines and images which lined the streets of Rome in the
year 1853. As modern civilization and indifference will34
soon obliterate this historical feature of the city, I quote
some results of Rufini’s investigations.[24] There were 1,421
images of the Madonna, 1,318 images of saints, ornamented
with 1,928 precious objects, and 110 ex-votos;
1,067 lamps were kept burning day and night before them,—a
most useful institution in a city whose streets have not
been regularly lighted until recent years.

The Shrine and Altar of Mercurius Sobrius.

As prototypes of a classical and Christian street-shrine,
respectively, we may take the ædicula compitalis of Mercurius
Sobrius, discovered in April, 1888, near S. Martino
ai Monti, and the immagine di Ponte, at the corner of the
Via dei Coronari and the Vicolo del Micio. The shrine of
Mercury near S. Martino was dedicated by
Augustus, in the year 10 b. c. The inscription
engraved on the front of the altar says:
“The emperor Augustus dedicated this shrine
to Mercury in the year of the City, 744, from
money received as a new-year’s gift, during
his absence from Rome.”

Suetonius (Chapter 57) says that every year, on January
1, all classes of citizens climbed the Capitol and offered
strenæ calendariæ to Augustus, when he was absent; and
that the emperor, with his usual generosity, appropriated
the money to the purchase of pretiosissima deorum simulacra,
“the most valuable statues of gods,” to be set up35
at the crossings of thoroughfares. Four pedestals of these
statues have already been found: one near the Arch of
Titus, at the beginning of the sixteenth century; one, in
1548, near the Senate House; one, in the same year, by the
Arch of Septimius Severus. The fourth pedestal, that recently
discovered near S. Martino ai Monti, was raised at
the crossing of two important streets, the clivus suburanus
(Via di S. Lucia in Selci), and the vicus sobrius (Via dei
Quattro Cantoni), from which the statue was nicknamed
Mercurius Sobrius, “Mercury the teetotaller.”

The immagine di Ponte, in the Via dei Coronari, the
prototype of modern shrines, contains an image of the
Virgin in a graceful niche built, or re-built, in 1523, by
Alberto Serra of Monferrato, from designs by Antonio da
Sangallo. Its name is derived from that of the lane leading
to the Ponte S. Angelo (Canale di Ponte). The house
to which it belongs is No. 113 Via dei Coronari, and No. 5
Vicolo del Micio.

Monumental crosses were sometimes erected instead of
shrines. Count Giovanni Gozzadini has called the attention
of archæologists to this subject in a memoir “Sulle
croci monumentali che erano nelle vie di Bologna del
secolo XIII.” He proves from the texts of historians,
Fathers, and councils that the practice of erecting crosses
at the junction of the main streets is very ancient, and belongs
to the first century of the freedom of the Church,
when the faithful withdrew the emblem of Christ from the
catacombs, and raised it in opposition to the street shrines
of the gentiles. Bologna has the privilege of possessing
the oldest of these crosses. One bears the legend “In the
name of God; this cross, erected long since by Barbatus,
was renewed under the bishopric of Vitalis (789-814).”
This class of monuments abounds in Rome, although it belongs36
to a comparatively recent age. Such are the crosses
before the churches of SS. Sebastiano, Cesareo, Nereo ed
Achilleo, Pancrazio, Lorenzo, Francesco a Ripa, and others.

The most curious and interesting is perhaps the column
of Henry IV. of France, which was erected under Clement
VIII. in front of S. Antonio all’ Esquilino, and which the
modern generation has concealed in a recess on the east
side of S. Maria Maggiore. It is in the form of a culverin—a
long slender cannon of the period—standing upright.
From the muzzle rises a marble cross supporting the figure
of Christ on one side, and that of the Virgin on the other.
It was erected by Charles d’Anisson, prior of the French
Antonians, to commemorate the absolution given by
Clement VIII. to Henry IV. of France and Navarre, on
September 17 of the year 1595. The monument has a remarkable
history. Although apparently erected by private
enterprise, the kings of France regarded it as an insult
of the Curia, an official boast of their submission to the
Pope; and they lost no opportunity of showing their
dissatisfaction in consequence. Louis XIV. found an occasion
for revenge. The gendarmes who had escorted his
ambassador, the duc de Crequi, to Rome, had a street brawl
with the Pope’s Corsican body-guards; and although it was
doubtful which side was to blame, Louis obliged Pope
Alexander VII. to raise a pyramid on the spot where the
affray had taken place, with the following humiliating inscription:—

“In denunciation of the murderous attack committed by
the Corsican soldiers against his Excellency the duc de
Crequi, Pope Alexander VII. declares their nation deprived
forever of the privilege of serving under the flag of the
Church. This monument was erected May 21, 1664, according
to the agreement made at Pisa.”

37The revenge could not have been more complete; so
bitter was it that Alexander VII. drew a violent protest
against it, to be read and published only after his death.
His successor, Clement IX., a favorite with Louis XIV.,
obtained leave that the pyramid should be demolished,
which was done in June, 1668, with the consent of the
French ambassador, the duc de Chaulnes. Whether by
stipulation or by the good will of the Pope, the inscription
of the column of Henry IV. was made to disappear at
the same time. We have found it concealed in a remote
corner of the convent of S. Antonio.[25] The column itself,
and the canopy which sheltered it, fell to the ground on
Thursday, February 15, 1744; and when Benedict XIV.
restored the monument in the following year, he severed
forever its connection with these remarkable historical
events, by dedicating it DEIPARÆ VIRGINI. Having
been dismantled in 1875, during the construction of the
Esquiline quarter, it was reërected in 1880, not far from
its original place, on the east side of S. Maria Maggiore,—not
without opposition, because there are always men
who think they can obliterate history by suppressing monuments
which bear testimony to it.

One of the characteristics of ancient sanctuaries, by which
the weary pilgrim was provided with bathing accommodations,
is also to be found in the old churches of Rome. We
are told in the “Liber Pontificalis” that Pope Symmachus
(498-514), while building the basilica of S. Pancrazio, on
the Via Aurelia, fecit in eadem balneum, “provided it with
a bath.” Another was erected by the same Pope near the38
apse of S. Paolo fuori le Mura, the supply of water of
which was originally derived from a spring; later from
wheels, or noriahs, established on the banks of the Tiber.
Notices were written on the walls of these bathing apartments,
warning laymen and priests to observe the strictest
rules of modesty. One of these inscriptions, from the baths
annexed to the churches of SS. Sylvester and Martin, is
preserved in section II. of the Christian epigraphic museum
of the Lateran. It ends with the distich:—

NON NOSTRIS NOCET OFFICIIS NEC CULPA LABACRI
QUOD SIBIMET GENERAT LUBRICA VITA MALUM EST,—

“There is no harm in seeking strength and purity of
body in baths; it is not water but our own bad actions that
make us sin.” These verses are not so good as their moral;
but inscriptions like this prove that the abandonment of
such useful institutions must be attributed not to the undue
severity of Christian morality, but to the ruin of the aqueducts
by which fountains and baths were fed. However,
even in the darkest period of the Middle Ages we find
the traditional “kantharos,” or basin, in the centre of the
quadri-porticoes or courts by which the basilicas were entered.
Such is the vase in the court of S. Cæcilia, represented
on the next page, and that in front of S. Cosimato
in Trastevere; and such is the famous calix marmoreus,
which formerly stood near the church of SS. Apostoli, mentioned
in the Bull of John III. (a. d. 570), by which the
boundary line of that parish was determined. This historical
monument, a prominent landmark in the topography
of mediæval Rome, was removed to the Baths of Diocletian
at the beginning of last year.

In many of our churches visitors may have noticed one
or more round black stones, weighing from ten to a hundred39
pounds, which, according to tradition, were tied to the
necks of martyrs when they were thrown into wells, lakes,
or rivers. To the student these stones tell a different tale.
They prove that the classic institution of the ponderaria
(sets of weights and measures) migrated from temples to
churches, after the closing of the former, a. d. 393.

Kantharos in the Court of St. Cæcilia.

As the amphora was the standard measure of capacity
for wine, the metreta for oil, the modius for grain, so the
libra was the standard measure of weight.[26] To insure40
honesty in trade they were examined periodically by order
of the ædiles; those found iniquæ (short) were broken,
and their owners sentenced to banishment in remote islands.
In a. d. 167, Junius Rusticus, prefect of the city, ordered
a general inspection to be made in Rome and in the provinces;
weights and measures found to be legal were marked
or stamped with the legend “[Verified] by the authority
of Q. Junius Rusticus, prefect of the city.” These weights
of Rusticus are discovered in hundreds in Roman excavations.[27]

The original standards were kept in the Temple of Jupiter
on the Capitol, and used only on extraordinary occasions.
Official duplicates were deposited in other temples, like
those of Castor and Pollux, Mars Ultor, Ops, and others,
and kept at the disposal of the public, whence their name
of pondera publica. Barracks and market-places were also
furnished with them. The most important discovery connected
with this branch of Roman administration was made
at Tivoli in 1883, when three mensæ ponderariæ, almost
perfect, were found in the portico or peribolos of the Temple
of Hercules, adjoining the cathedral of S. Lorenzo. This
wing of the portico is divided into compartments by means
of projecting pilasters, and each recess is occupied by a
marble table resting on “trapezophoroi” richly ornamented
with symbols of Hercules and Bacchus, like the club and
the thyrsus. Along the edge of two of the tables runs the
inscription, “Made at the expense of Marcus Varenus
Diphilus, president of the college of Hercules,” while the
third was erected at the expense of his wife Varena. The41
tables are perforated by holes of conical shape, varying in
diameter from 200 to 380 millimetres. Brass measures of
capacity were fastened into each hole, for use by buyers
and sellers. They were used in a very ingenious way, both
as dry and liquid measures. The person who had bought,
for instance, half a modius of beans, or twenty-four sextarii
of wine, and wanted to ascertain whether he had been
cheated in his bargain, would fill the receptacle to the
proper line, then open the valve or spicket below, and
transfer the tested contents again to his sack or flask.

The institution was accepted by the Church, and ponderaria
were set up in the principal basilicas. The best set
which has come down to us is that of S. Maria in Trastevere,
but there is hardly a church without a “stone” weighing
from five or ten to a hundred pounds. The popular superstition
by which these practical objects were transformed
into relics of martyrdoms is very old. Topographers and
pilgrims of the seventh century speak of a stone exhibited
in the chapel of SS. Abundius and Irenæus, under
the portico of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura, “which, in their
ignorance, pilgrims touch and lift.” They mention also
another weight, exhibited in the church of S. Stephen, near
S. Paul’s, which they believed to be one of the stones with
which the martyr was killed.

In 1864 a schola (a memorial and banqueting hall) was
discovered in the burial grounds adjoining the prætorian
camp, which had been used by members of a corporation
called the sodalium serrensium, that is, of the citizens of
Serræ, a city of Samothrake, I believe. Among the objects
pertaining to the hall and its customers were two measures
for wine, a sextarium, and a hemina, marked with the
monogram of Christ and the name of the donor.[28] They42
are now exhibited in the sala dei bronzi of the Capitoline
museum.

The hall of the citizens of Serræ, discovered in 1864, belongs
to a class of monuments very common in the suburbs
of Rome. They were called cellæ, memoriæ, exedræ, and
scholæ, and were used by relatives and friends of the persons
buried under or near them, in the performance of expiatory
ceremonies or for commemorative banquets, for
which purpose all the necessaries, from the table-service to
the festal garments, were kept on the spot, in cabinets entrusted
to the care of a watchman. This practice—save
the expiatory offerings—was adopted by the Christians.
The agapai, or love-feasts, before degenerating into those
excesses and superstitions so strongly denounced by the
Fathers of the Church, were celebrated over or near the
tombs of martyrs and confessors, the treasury of the local
congregation supplying food and drink, as well as the banqueting
robes. In the inventory of the property confiscated
during the persecution of Diocletian, in a house at
Cirta (Constantine, Algeria), which was used by the faithful
as a church, we find registered, chalices of gold and
silver, lamps and candelabras, eighty-two female tunics, sixteen
male tunics, thirteen pairs of men’s boots, forty-seven
pairs of women’s shoes, and so on.[29] A remarkable discovery,
illustrating the subject, has been lately made in the
Catacombs of Priscilla; that of a graffito containing this
sentence: “February 5, 375, we, Florentinus, Fortunatus,
and Felix, came here AD CALICE[M] (for the cup).” To
understand the meaning of this sentence, we must compare
it with others engraved on pagan tombs. In one, No.
25,861 of the “Corpus,” the deceased says to the passer-by:
“Come on, bring with you a flask of wine, a glass, and all43
that is needed for a libation!” In another, No. 19,007,
the same invitation is worded: “Oh, friends (convivæ),
drink now to my memory, and wish that the earth may be
light on me.” We are told by S. Augustine[30] that when
his mother, Monica, visited Milan in 384, the practice of
eating and drinking in honor of the martyrs had been
stopped by S. Ambrose, although it was still flourishing in
other regions, where crowds of pilgrims were still going
from tomb to tomb with baskets of provisions and flasks of
wine, drinking heavily at each station. Paulinus of Nola
and Augustine himself strongly stigmatized the abuse. The
faithful were advised either to distribute their provisions to
the poor, who crowded the entrances to the crypts, or to
leave them on the tombs, that the local clergy might give
them to the needy. There is no doubt that the record ad
calicem venimus, scratched by Florentinus, Fortunatus, and
Felix on the walls of the Cemetery of Priscilla, refers to
these deplorable libations.

Sample of a Drinking-cup.

Many drinking-cups used on these occasions have been
found in Rome, in my time. They are generally works of
the fourth century of our era, cut in glass by unskillful
hands, and they show the portrait-heads of SS. Peter and
Paul, in preference to other subjects of the kind. This
fact is due not only to the special veneration which the
Romans professed for the founders of their church, but
also to the habit of celebrating their anniversary, June 29,
with public or domestic agapai. S. Peter’s day was to the
Romans of the fourth century what Christmas is to us, as44
regards joviality and sumptuous banquets. On one of these
occasions S. Jerome received from his friend Eustochio
fruit and sweets in the shape of doves. In acknowledging
the kind remembrance, S. Jerome recommends sobriety on
that day more than on any other: “We must celebrate the
birthday of Peter rather with exaltation of spirit, than with
abundance of food. It is absurd to glorify with the satisfaction
of our appetites the memory of men who pleased
God by mortifying theirs.” The poorer classes of citizens
were fed under the porticoes of the Vatican basilica. The
gatherings degenerated into the display of such excesses of
drunkenness that Augustine could not resist writing to the
Romans: “First you persecuted the martyrs with stones
and other instruments of torture and death; and now you
persecute their memory with your intoxicating cups.”

The institution of public granaries (horrea publica) for
the maintenance of the lower classes was also accepted and
favored by Christian Rome. On page 250 of my “Ancient
Rome,” I have spoken of the warehouses for the storage of
wheat, built by Sulpicius Galba on the plains of Testaccio,
near the Porta S. Paolo, named for him horrea galbana,
even after their purchase by the state. These public granaries
originated at the time of Caius Gracchus and his
grain laws. Their scheme was developed, in course of
time, by Clodius, Pompey, Seianus, and the emperors, to
such an extent that, in 312 a. d., there were registered in
Rome alone two hundred and ninety granaries. They may
be divided into three classes: In the first, and by far the
most important, a plentiful supply of breadstuffs was kept
at the expense of the state, to meet emergencies of scarcity
or famine, and the wants of a population one third of
which was fed gratuitously by the sovereign. The second
was intended especially for the storage of paper (horrea45
chartaria), candles (horrea candelaria), spices (horrea
piperataria), and other such commodities. The third class
consisted of buildings in which the citizens might deposit
their goods, money, plate, securities, and other valuables for
which they had no place of safety in their own houses.
There were also private horrea, built on speculation, to be
let as strong-rooms like our modern vaults, storage-warehouses,
and “pantechnicons.”

The building of the new quarter of the Testaccio, the
region of horrea par excellence, has given us the chance of
studying the institution in its minutest details. I shall
mention only one discovery. We found, in 1885, the official
advertisement for leasing a horrea, under the empire of
Hadrian. It is thus worded:—

“To be let from to-day, and hereafter annually (beginning
on December 13): These warehouses, belonging to
the Emperor Hadrian, together with their granaries, wine-cellars,
strong-boxes, and repositories.

“The care and protection of the official watchmen is included
in the lease.

“Regulations: I. Any one who rents rooms, vaults, or
strong-boxes in this establishment is expected to pay the
rent and vacate the place before December 13.

“II. Whoever disobeys regulation No. I., and omits to
arrange with the horrearius (or keeper-in-chief) for the
renewal of his lease, shall be considered as liable for another
year, the rent to be determined by the average price paid
by others for the same room, vault, or strong-box. This
regulation to be enforced in case the horrearius has not
had an opportunity to rent the said room, vault, or strong-box
to other people.

“III. Sub-letting is not allowed. The administration
will withdraw the watch and the guarantee from rooms,46
vaults, or strong-boxes which have been sub-let in violation
of the existing rules.

“IV. Merchandise or valuables stored in these warehouses
are held by the administration as security for payment
of rental.

“V. The tenant will not be reimbursed by the administration
for improvements, additions, and other such work
which he has undertaken on his own account.

“VI. The tenant must give an assignment of his goods
to the keeper-in-chief, who shall not be held responsible for
the safe-keeping of merchandise or valuables which have
not been duly declared. The tenant must claim a receipt
for the said assignment and for the payment of his rental.”[31]

The granaries of the Church were intended only for the
storage of corn. The landed estates which the Church
owned in Africa and Sicily were administered by deputies,
whose special duty it was to ship the produce of the harvest
to Rome. During the first siege of Totila, in 546, Pope
Vigilius, then on his way to Constantinople, despatched
from the coast of Sicily a fleet of grain-laden vessels, under
the care of Valentine, bishop of Silva Candida. The attempt
to relieve the city of the famine proved useless, and
the vessels were seized by the besiegers on their landing at
Porto. In 589 an inundation of the Tiber, described by
Gregoire de Tours, carried away several thousand bushels
of grain, which had been stored in the horrea ecclesiæ, and
the granaries themselves were totally destroyed.

The “Liber Pontificalis,” vol. i. p. 315, describes the calamities
which befell the city of Rome in the year 605;
King Agilulf trying to enter the city by violence; heavy47
frosts killing the vines; rats destroying the harvest, etc.
However, as soon as the barbarians were induced to retire
by an offer of twelve thousand solidi, Pope Sabinianus,
who was then the head of the Church, iussit aperiri horrea
ecclesiæ (threw open the granaries), and offered their contents
at auction, at a valuation of one solidus for thirty
modii.

A Granary of Ostia.

The grain was not intended to be sold, but to be distributed
among the needy; the act of Sabinianus was, therefore,
strongly censured, as being in strong contrast to the
generosity of Gregory the Great. A legend on this subject
is related by Paulus Diaconus in chapter xxix. of the Life
of Gregory. He says that Gregory appeared thrice to Sabinianus,
in a vision, entreating him to be more generous;
and having failed to move him by friendly advice, he struck
him dead. The price of one solidus for thirty modii is48
almost exorbitant; grain cost exactly one half this at the
time of Theodoric.

The institution has outlived all the vicissitudes of the
Middle Ages. Gregory XIII., in 1566, Paul V., in 1609,
Clement XI., in 1705, re-opened the horrea ecclesiæ in the
ruined halls of the Baths of Diocletian; and Clement XIII.
added a wing to them, for the storage of oil. These buildings
are still in existence around the Piazza di Termini,
although devoted to other purposes.

It would be impossible to follow in all its manifestations
the material and moral transformation of Rome from the
third to the sixth centuries, without going beyond the limits
of a single chapter.

The customs and practices of the classical age were so
deeply rooted among the citizens that even now, after a
lapse of sixteen centuries, they are noticeable to a great extent.
When we read, for instance, of Popes elected by the
people assembled at the Rostra,[32] such as Stephen III., in
768, we must regard the circumstance as caused by a remembrance
of past ages. Under the pontificate of Innocent
II. (1130), of Eugenius III. (1145-1150), and of
Lucius III. (1181-1185) the senators, or municipal magistrates,
used to sit and administer justice in S. Martina and
S. Adriano, that is, in the classic Roman Curia. Many
other details will be incidentally described in the following
chapters. I close the present one by referring to a graceful
custom, borrowed likewise from the classic world,—the
use of roses in church or funeral ceremonies and in social
life.

The ancients celebrated, in the month of May, a feast
called rosaria, in which sepulchres were profusely decorated49
with the favorite flower of the season. Roses were
also used on occasions of public rejoicing. A Greek inscription,
discovered by Fränkel at Pergamon, mentions,
among the honors shown to the emperor Hadrian, the
Rhodismos, which is interpreted as a scattering of roses.
Traces of the custom are found in more recent times. In
the Illyrian peninsula, and on the banks of the Danube, the
country people, still feeling the influence of Roman civilization,
celebrated feasts of flowers in spring and summer,
under the name of rousalia. In the sixth century, when
the Slavs were vacillating between the influence of the
past and the present, the celebration of the Pentecost was
mixed up with that of the half-pagan, half-barbarous rousalia.
Southern Russians believe in supernatural female
beings, called Rusalky, who bring prosperity to the fields
and forests, which they have inhabited as flowers.

The early Christians decorated the sepulchres of martyrs
and confessors, on the anniversary of their interment, with
roses, violets, amaranths, and evergreens; and they celebrated
the rosationes on the name-days of churches and
sanctuaries. Wreaths and crowns of roses are often engraved
on tombstones, hanging from the bills of mystic
doves. The symbol refers more to the joys of the just in
the future life than to the fleeting pleasures of the earth.
The Acts of Perpetua relate a legend on this subject; that
Saturus had a vision in the dungeon in which he was
awaiting his martyrdom, in which he saw himself transported
with Perpetua to a heavenly garden, fragrant with
roses, and turning to his fair companion, he exclaimed:
“Here we are in possession of that which our Lord promised!”

Roses and other flowers are painted on the walls of historical
cubiculi. In a fresco of the crypts of Lucina, in the50
Catacombs of Callixtus, are painted birds, symbolizing souls
who have been separated from their bodies, and are playing
in fields of roses around the Tree of Life. As the
word Paradeisos signifies a garden, so its mystic representation
always takes the form of a delightful field of flowers
and fruit. Dante gives to the seat of the blessed the shape
of a fair rose, inside of which a crowd of angels with golden
wings descend and return to the Lord:—

“Nel gran fior discendeva, che s’adorna
Di tante foglie: e quindi risaliva,
Là dove lo suo amor sempre soggiorna.”[33]
Paradiso, xxxi. 10-12.

Possibly it is from this allegory of paradise that the rite
of the “golden rose” which the Pope blesses on Quadragesima
Sunday is derived. The ceremony is very ancient,
although the first mention of it appears only in the life of
Leo IX. (1049-1055); and I may mention, as a curious
coincidence, that the kings and queens of Navarre, their
sons, and the dukes and peers of the realm, were bound to
offer roses to the Parliament at the return of spring.

Roses played such an important part in church ceremonies
that we find a fundus rosarius given as a present by Constantine
to Pope Mark. The rosaria outlived the suppression
of pagan superstitions, and by and by assumed its
Christian form in the feast of Pentecost, which falls in the
month of May. In that day roses were thrown from the
roofs of churches on the worshipers below. The Pentecost
is still called by the Italians Pasqua rosa.

Ancient guide-books of Rome, published in the middle
of the fourth century,[34] mention four hundred and twenty-four
temples, three hundred and four shrines, eighty statues
of gods, of precious metal, sixty-four of ivory, and three52
thousand seven hundred and eighty-five miscellaneous
bronze statues. The number of marble statues is not given.
It has been said, however, that Rome had two populations
of equal size, one alive, and one of marble.

I have had the opportunity of witnessing or conducting
the discovery of several temples, altars, shrines, and bronze
statues. The number of marble statues and busts discovered
in the last twenty-five years, either in Rome or the
Campagna, may be stated at one thousand.

Before beginning the description of these beautiful monuments,
I must allude to some details concerning the management
and organization of ancient places of worship, upon
which recent discoveries have thrown a considerable, and in
some cases, unexpected light.

Roman temples, like the churches of the present day,
were used not only as places of worship, but as galleries of
pictures, museums of statuary, and “cabinets” of precious
objects. In chapter v. of “Ancient Rome,” I have given
the catalogue of the works of art displayed in the temple of
Apollo on the Palatine. The list includes: The Apollo and
Artemis driving a quadriga, by Lysias; fifty statues of the
Danaids; fifty of the sons of Egypt; the Herakles of Lysippos;
Augustus with the attributes of Apollo (a bronze
statue fifty feet high); the pediment of the temple, by Bupalos
and Anthermos; statues of Apollo, by Skopas; Leto,
by Kephisodotos, son of Praxiteles; Artemis, by Timotheos;
and the nine Muses; also a chandelier, formerly dedicated
by Alexander the Great at Kyme; medallions of eminent
men; a collection of gold plate; another of gems and intaglios;
ivory carvings; specimens of palæography; and
two libraries.

Entablature of the Temple of Concord.

The Temple of Apollo was by no means the only sacred
museum of ancient Rome; there were scores of them, beginning53
with the Temple of Concord, so emphatically praised
by Pliny. This temple, built by Camillus, at the foot of
the Capitol, and restored by Tiberius and Septimius Severus,
was still standing at the time of Pope Hadrian I. (772-795),
when the inscription on its front was copied for the
last time by the Einsiedlensis. It was razed to the ground
towards 1450. “When I made my first visit to Rome,”
says Poggio Bracciolini, “I saw the Temple of Concord
almost intact (ædem fere integram), built of white marble.
Since then the Romans have demolished it, and turned the
structure into a lime-kiln.” The platform of the temple
and a few fragments of its architectural decorations were
discovered in 1817. The reader may appreciate the grace
of these decorations, from a fragment of the entablature
now in the portico of the Tabularium, and one of the capitals
of the cella, now in the Palazzo dei Conservatori. The
cella contained one central and ten side niches, in which
eleven masterpieces of Greek chisels were placed, namely,
the Apollo and Hera, by Baton; Leto nursing Apollo and54
Artemis, by Euphranor; Asklepios and Hygieia, by Nikeratos;
Ares and Hermes, by Piston; and Zeus, Athena,
and Demeter, by Sthennis. The name of the sculptor of
the Concordia in the apse is not known. Pliny speaks also
of a picture by Theodoros, representing Cassandra; of four
elephants, cut in obsidian, a miracle of skill and labor, and
of a collection of precious stones, among which was the
sardonyx set in the legendary ring of Polykrates of Samos.
Most of these treasures had been offered to the goddess by
Augustus, moved by the liberality which Julius Cæsar had
shown towards his ancestral goddess, Venus Genetrix. We
know from Pliny, xxxv. 9, that Cæsar was the first to give
due honor to paintings, by exhibiting them in his Forum
Julium. He gave about $72,000 (eighty talents), for two
works of Timomachos, representing Medea and Ajax. At
the base of the Temple of Venus Genetrix he placed his
own equestrian statue, the horse of which, modelled by Lysippos,
had once supported the figure of Alexander the
Great. The statue of Venus was the work of Arkesilaos,
and her breast was covered with strings of British pearls.
Pliny (xxxvii. 5), after mentioning the collection of gems
made by Scaurus, and another made by Mithradates, which
Pompey the Great had offered to Jupiter Capitolinus, adds:
“These examples were surpassed by Cæsar the dictator,
who offered to Venus Genetrix six collections of cameos
and intaglios.”

A descriptive catalogue of these valuables and works of
art was kept in each temple, and sometimes engraved on
marble. The inventories included also the furniture and
properties of the sacristy. In 1871 the following remarkable
document was discovered in the Temple of Diana Nemorensis.
The inventory, engraved on a marble pillar three
feet high, is now preserved in the Orsini Castle at Nemi.55
It has been published by Henzen in “Hermes,” vol. vi. p. 8,
and reads as follows, in translation:—

Objects offered to [or belonging to] both temples [the
temple of Isis and that of Bubastis]:—Seventeen statues;
one head of the Sun; four silver images; one medallion;
two bronze altars; one tripod (in the shape of one at Delphi);
a cup for libations; a patera; a diadem [for the statue
of the goddess] studded with gems; a sistrum of gilded
silver; a gilt cup; a patera ornamented with ears of corn;
a necklace studded with beryls; two bracelets with gems;
seven necklaces with gems; nine ear-rings with gems; two
nauplia [rare shells from the Propontis]; a crown with
twenty-one topazes and eighty carbuncles; a railing of
brass supported by eight hermulæ; a linen costume comprising
a tunica, a pallium, a belt, and a stola, all trimmed
with silver; a like costume without trimming.

[Objects offered] to Bubastis:—A costume of purple
silk; another of turquoise color; a marble vase with pedestal;
a water jug; a linen costume with gold trimmings
and a golden girdle; another of plain white linen.

The objects described in this catalogue did not belong
to the Temple of Diana itself, one of the wealthiest in central
Italy; but to two small shrines, of Isis and Bubastis,
built by a devotee within the sacred enclosure, on the north
side of the square.

The ancients displayed remarkably bad taste in loading
the statues of their gods with precious ornaments, and in
spoiling the beauty of their temples with hangings of every
hue and description. A document published by Muratori[35]
speaks of a statue of Isis which was dedicated by a lady
named Fabia Fabiana as a memorial to her deceased granddaughter
Avita. The statue, cast in silver, weighed one56
hundred and twelve and a half pounds, and was muffled in
ornaments and jewelry beyond conception. The goddess
wore a diadem in which were set six pearls, two emeralds,
seven beryls, one carbuncle, one hyacinthus, and two flint
arrow-heads; also earrings with emeralds and pearls, a
necklace composed of thirty-six pearls and eighteen emeralds,
two clasps, two rings on the little finger, one on the third,
one on the middle finger; and many other gems on the
shoes, ankles, and wrists. Another inscription discovered
at Constantine, Algeria, describes a statue of Jupiter dedicated
in the Capitol of that city. The devotees had placed
on his head an oak-wreath of silver, with thirty leaves and
fifteen acorns; they had loaded his right hand with a silver
disk, a Victory waving a palm-leaf, and a crown of forty
leaves; and in the other had fastened a silver rod and other
emblems.

The hangings and tinsel not only disfigured the interior
of temples, but were a source of danger from their combustibility.
When we hear of fires destroying the Pantheon
in a. d. 110, the Temple of Apollo in 363, that of Venus
and Rome in 307, and that of Peace in 191, we may assume
that they were started and fed by the inflammable
materials with which the interiors were filled. There is no
other explanation to be given, inasmuch as the structures
were fire-proof, with the exception of the roof. As for the
disfiguration of sacred buildings with all sorts of hangings,
it is enough to quote the words of Livy (xl. 51). “In the
year of Rome, 574, the censors M. Fulvius Nobilior and M.
Æmilius Lepidus restored the temple of Jupiter on the
Capitol. On this occasion they removed from the columns
all the tablets, medallions, and military flags omnis generis
which had been hung against them.”

The right of performing sacrifices was sometimes granted57
to civilians, on payment of a fee. An inscription discovered
among the ruins of the Temple of Malakbelos, outside the
Porta Portese, on the site of the new railway station, relates
how an importer of wine, Quintus Octavius Daphnicus, having
built at his own expense a banqueting hall within the
sacred enclosure, was rewarded with the immunitas sacrum
faciendi, that is, the right of performing sacrifices without
the assistance of priests. The performances were regulated
by tariffs, which specified a price for every item; and one
of these has actually survived to our day.[36]

The meaning of this tariff will be easily understood if
we recall the details of a Græco-Roman sacrifice, in regard
to the apportionment of the victim’s flesh. The parts
which were the perquisite of the priests differ in different
worships; sometimes we hear of legs and skin, sometimes58
of tongue and shoulder. In the case of private sacrifices
the rest of the animal was taken home by the sacrificer, to
be used for a meal or sent as a present to friends. This
was, of course, impossible in the case of “holocausts,” in
which the victim was burnt whole on the altar. In the
Roman ritual, hides and skins were always the property
of the temple.[37] In the above tariff two prices are charged:
a smaller one for ordinary sacrifices, when only the intestines
were burnt, and the rest of the flesh was taken home
by the sacrificer; a larger one for “holocausts,” which required
a much longer use of the altar, spit, gridiron, and
other sacrificial instruments. Four asses are charged for
each crown or wreath of flowers, half that amount for hot
water.

The site of a sanctuary can be determined not only from
its actual ruins, but, in many cases, from the contents
of its favissæ, or vaults, which are sometimes collected in
a group, sometimes spread over a considerable space of
ground. The origin of these deposits of terra-cotta or
bronze votive objects is as follows:—

Each leading sanctuary or place of pilgrimage was furnished
with one or more rooms for the exhibition and safe-keeping
of ex-votos. The walls of these rooms were studded
with nails on which ex-voto heads and figures were hung in
rows by means of a hole on the back. There were also
horizontal spaces, little steps like those of a lararium, or
shelves, on which were placed those objects that could stand
upright. When both surfaces were filled, and no room was
left for the daily influx of votive offerings, the priests removed
the rubbish of the collection, that is, the terra-cottas,
and buried them either in the vaults (favissæ) of the59
temple, or in trenches dug for the purpose within or near
the sacred enclosure.

During these last years I have been present at the discovery
of five deposits of ex-votos, each marking the site of
a place of pilgrimage. The first was found in March, 1876,
on the site of a temple of Hercules, outside the Porta S.
Lorenzo; the second in the spring of 1885, on the site of
the Temple of Diana Nemorensis; the third in 1886, near
the Island of Æsculapius (now of S. Bartolomeo); the fourth
in 1887, near the shrine of Minerva Medica; the last in
1889, on the site of the Temple of Juno at Veii.

The existence of a temple of Hercules, outside the Porta
S. Lorenzo, within the enclosure of the modern cemetery,
was first made known in 1862, in consequence of the discovery
of an altar raised to him by Marcus Minucius, the
“master of the horse” or lieutenant-general of Q. Fabius
Maximus (217 b. c.). This altar is now exhibited in the
Capitoline Museum.[38] Fourteen years later, in 1876, the
favissæ of the temple were found in the section of the
cemetery called the Pincio. There were about two hundred
pieces of terra-cotta, vases of Etruscan and Italo-Greek
manufacture; several statuettes of bronze, and pieces of
æs rude, and æs grave librale, one of them from the town
of Luceria. This deposit seems to have been buried at the
beginning of the sixth century of Rome.

Nemi and the site of the Temple of Diana.
A Platform of the Temple of Diana. B Village of Nemi and Castle of the Orsinis.

Portrait Bust of Person cured at Nemi.

The excavation of the temple of Diana Nemorensis was
undertaken in 1885, by Sir John Savile Lumley, now Lord
Savile of Rufford, the English ambassador at Rome, with
the kind consent of the Italian government. It seems that
this Artemisium Nemorense was not only a place of worship
and devotion, but also a hydro-therapeutic establishment.60
The waters employed for the cure were those which
spring from the lava rocks at Nemi, and which, until a few
years ago, fell in graceful cascades into the lake, at a place
called “Le Mole.” They now supply the city of Albano,
which has long suffered from water-famine. I can vouch for
their therapeutic efficiency from personal experience; in fact I
could honestly put up my votive offering to the long-forgotten
goddess, having recovered health and strength by following the
old cure. Diana, however, was chiefly worshipped in this place
as Diana Lucina. I need not enter into particulars on this subject.
The ex-votos collected in large quantity by Lord Savile, representing young mothers
nursing their first-born, and other offerings of the same61
nature, testify to the skill of the priests. Perhaps they
practised other branches of surgery, because, among the
curiosities brought to light in 1885, are several figures
with large openings on the front, through which the intestines
are seen. Professor Tommasi-Crudeli, who has made
a study of this class of curiosities, says that they cannot be62
considered as real anatomical models, because the work is
too rough and primitive to enable us to distinguish one intestine
from the other. The number of objects collected
by Lord Savile may be estimated at three thousand.

The stern of the ship of the Island of the Tiber.

Characteristic objects of a like nature—breasts cut open
and showing the anatomy—have been found in large numbers
in and near the island of the Tiber, where the Temple
of Æsculapius stood, at the stern of the marble ship. It
seems that the street leading from the Campus Martius to
the Pons Fabricius, and across it to the temple, was lined
with shops and booths for the sale of ex-votos, as is the case
now with the approaches to the sanctuaries of Einsiedeln,
Lourdes, Mariahilf, and S. Jago. In the foundations of
the new quays of the Tiber, above and below the bridge,
the ex-votos have been found in regular strata along the
line of the banks, whereas in the island itself they have
come to light in much smaller quantities. As the votive
objects deposited in this sanctuary, from the year 292 before
Christ to the fall of the Empire, may be counted not
by thousands, but by millions of specimens, I believe that
the bed of the Tiber must have been used as a favissa.

Fragment of a Lamp inscribed with the name of Minerva.

The name of Minerva Medica is familiar to students and
visitors of old Rome;[39] but the monument which bears it,
a nymphæum of the gardens of the Licinii, near the Porta
Maggiore, has no connection whatever with the goddess of
wisdom. Minerva Medica was the name of a street on the
Esquiline, so called from a shrine which stood at the crossing,
or near the crossing, with the Via Merulana, not far
from the church of SS. Pietro e Marcellino. Its foundations63
and its deposit of ex-votos were discovered in 1887.
The shape and nature of the offerings bear witness to numberless
cases of recovery performed by the merciful goddess,
the Athena Hygieia or Paionia of the Greeks. There is a fragment
of a lamp inscribed with her name, which leaves no doubt as to the
identity of the deposit. There is also a votive head, not cast from the
mould, but modelled a stecco, which alludes to Minerva as a restorer of
hair. The scalp is covered with thick hair in front and
on the top, while the sides are bald, or showing only an
incipient growth. It is evident, therefore, that the woman
whose portrait-head we have found had lost her curls in
the course of some malady, and having regained them
through the intercession of Minerva, as she piously believed,
offered her this curious token of gratitude. This,
at least, is Visconti’s opinion. Another testimonial of
Minerva’s efficiency in restoring hair has been found at
Piacenza, a votive tablet put up MINERVÆ MEMORI by64
a lady named Tullia Superiana, RESTITUTIONE SIBI
FACTA CAPILLORUM (for having restored her hair).

Votive Head.

As regards the multitude of ex-votos, no other temple
or deposit discovered in my time can be compared with the
favissæ of the Temple of Juno at Veii. In Roman traditions
this temple was regarded as the place where Camillus
emerged from the cuniculus, or mine, on the day of the
capture of the city. The story runs that Camillus, having
carried his cuniculus under the Temple of Juno within the
citadel, overheard the Etruscan aruspex declare to the king
of Veii that victory would rest with him who completed the
sacrifice. Upon this, the Roman soldiers burst through
the floor, seized the entrails of the victims, and bore them
to Camillus, who offered them to the goddess with his own
hand, while his followers were gaining possession of the
city. The account is certainly more or less fabricated; but,
as Livy remarks, “it is not worth while to prove or disprove
these things.” We are content to know that within
the citadel of Veii, the “Piazza d’ Armi” of the present
day, there was a temple of great veneration and antiquity,
and that it was dedicated to Juno. Both points have been
proved and illustrated by modern discoveries.

The Cliffs under the Citadel of Veii (now called Piazza d’ Armi).

The ex-votos of the Latin sanctuaries were, as I have just
remarked, buried in the favissæ; but at Veii, because of
the danger and the difficulty of excavating them within the
citadel, and in solid rock, the ex-votos were carted away
and thrown from the edge of the cliff into the valley below.
The place selected was the north side of the rocky ridge
connecting the citadel with the city, which ridge towers
one hundred and ninety-eight feet above the cañon of the
Cremera. The mass of objects thrown over here in the
course of centuries has produced a slope which reaches
nearly to the top of the cliff. The reader will appreciate the65
importance of the deposit from the fact that the mine has
been exploited ever since the time of Alexander VII. (1655-1667);
and in the spring of 1889, when the most recent excavations
were made, by the late empress Theresa of Brazil,
the mass of terra-cottas brought to the surface was such
that work had to be given up after a few days, because
there was no more space in the farmhouse for the storage
of the booty. Pietro Sante Bartoli left an account of the
excavations made on the same spot by cardinal Chigi, during
the pontificate of Alexander VII. Modern topographers
do not seem to be aware of this fact; it is not mentioned
by Dennis, or Gell, or Nibby, although it is the only evidence
left of the discovery of the famous sanctuary. “Not
far from the Isola Farnese a hill [the Piazza d’ Armi],
rises from the valley of the Cremera, on the plateau of which
cardinal Chigi has discovered a beautiful temple with fluted
columns of the Ionic order. The frieze is carved with66
trophies and panoplies of various kinds; the reliefs of the
pediment represent the emperor Antoninus[?] sacrificing a
ram and a sow, and although the panels lie scattered around
the temple, and the figures are broken, apparently no important
piece is missing. There is also an altar four feet
high, with figures of Etruscan type, which was removed to
the Palazzo Chigi [now Odescalchi]. The columns and
marbles of the temple were bought by cardinal Falconieri
to build and ornament a chapel in the church of S. Giovanni
de’ Fiorentini…. Not far from the temple a stratum of
ex-votos has been found, so rich that the whole of Rome
is now overrun with terra-cottas. Every part of the human
body is represented,—heads, hands, feet, fingers, eyes,
noses, mouths, tongues, entrails, lungs, symbols of fecundity,
whole figures of men and women, horses, oxen, sheep,
pigs,—in such quantities as to make several hundred cartloads.
There were also bronze statuettes, sacred utensils, and mirror-cases,
which were all stolen or destroyed. I have known
of one workman breaking marvellous objects (cose insigni)
into small fragments to melt them into handles for knives.”

When the farms of Isola Farnese and Vaccareccia, in
which the remains of Veii and of its extensive cemeteries
are situated, were sold, a few years ago, by the empress of
Brazil to the marchese Ferraioli, the parties concerned
agreed that the right of excavating and the objects discovered
should belong to her, for a limited number of years,
up to 1891, I believe. The first campaign, opened January
2, 1889, and closed in June, must be considered as one of
the most valuable contributions to the study of Etruscan
civilization which have been supplied of late to students,
either by chance or by design. Had the empress been able
to carry out her plans for two or three years more, the whole
city and necropolis would have been explored, surveyed, and67
illustrated, in the most strictly scientific manner. Political
events and the death of this noble woman brought the enterprise
to a close. To come back, however, to the bed of
votive objects in terra-cotta and bronze, I was able to make
a rough estimate of its dimensions, which are two hundred
and fifty feet in length, fifty feet in width, and from three
to four in depth; nearly forty-four thousand cubic feet.
The objects collected in two weeks number four thousand;
the fragments buried again as worthless, double that number.
The heads of veiled goddesses alone amount to four
hundred and forty-seven, of which three hundred and seventy
are full-faced, the rest in profile. The vein contains
fifty-two varieties of types; to Bartoli’s list, we must add
busts, masks, arms, breasts, wombs, spines, bowels, lungs,
toes, figures cut open across the breast and showing the
anatomy, figures approximately human, or male and female
embryos ending like the trunk of a tree with stumps corresponding
to the feet, figures of hermaphrodites, human torsos
modelled purposely without heads, arms without hands,
legs without feet, hands holding apples or jewel-caskets,
figurines of mothers nursing twins, beautiful life-sized statues
of draped women, with movable hands and feet, rats,
wild boars, sucking pigs, cows, rams, apples and other
fruits, and “marbles.”

The first structures dedicated to the gods in Rome were
called aræ, and had the shape of a cube of masonry, in the
centre of a square platform. They were modelled, in a
measure, on the pattern of the Pelasgic hierones, in which
the territory of Tibur and Signia is especially abundant.
The aræ best known in Roman history and topography are
six in number, namely, the ara maxima Herculis; the
Roma quadrata; the ara Aii Locutii; the ara Ditis68
et Proserpinæ; the ara pacis Augustæ; and the ara
incendii Neroniani. The oldest of these were built of
rough stones; those of later periods took the characteristic
shape of the altar of Verminus, represented on page 52
of my “Ancient Rome,” and of the altar raised to Vedjovis
by the members of the Julian family, at Bovillæ, their
birthplace, where it was found by the Colonnas in 1823.
It is now in the villa of that family on the Quirinal.[40] In
imperial times the conventional shape was preserved, with
the addition of two pulvini, or volutes, on the opposite
edges of the cornice, as represented in the illustration on
page 35 of “Ancient Rome” (a marble altar found at
Ostia).

A Pelasgic hieron, or platform of altar, at Segni.

Round Temple of Hercules in the Forum Boarium.

69The Ara Maxima Herculis. This altar, the oldest in
Rome, was raised in memory of the visit of Hercules to our
country. Tacitus and Pliny attribute its construction to
Evander the Arcadian, forgetting that in prehistoric times
the tract of land on which the altar stood, between the
Forum Boarium and the Circus Maximus, was submerged
by the waters of the Velabrum. It was at all events a very
ancient structure, held in great veneration. Its rough
shape and appearance were never changed, as shown by a
precious—yet unpublished—sketch by Baldassarre Peruzzi
which I found among his autographs in Florence. A
round temple was built near the altar, in later times, of
which we know two particulars:
first, that it had a mysterious power of repulsion for
dogs and flies;[41] second, that
it contained, among other works of art, a picture by the
poet Pacuvius, next in antiquity and value to the one
painted by Fabius Pictor, in the Temple of Health, in 303
b. c.[42] The Temple of Hercules,
the Ara Maxima, and the bronze statue of the hero-god
were discovered, in a good state of preservation,
during the pontificate of Sixtus IV., between the apse of
S. Maria in Cosmedin (the Temple of Ceres), and the Circus70
Maximus. We have a description of the discovery by
Pomponio Leto, Albertini, and Fra Giocondo da Verona;
and excellent drawings by Baldassarre Peruzzi.[43]

Except the bronze statue, and a few votive inscriptions,
which were removed to the Capitoline Museum, everything—temple,
altar, and platform—was levelled to the ground
by the illustrious Vandals of the Renaissance.

The Roma Quadrata. According to the ancient ritual,
the founder of a city, after tracing the sulcus primigenius
or furrow which marked its limits, buried the plough, the
instruments of sacrifice, and other votive offerings, in a
round hole, excavated in the centre of the marked space.
The round hole was called mundus, and its location was
indicated by a heap of stones, which in course of time took
the shape of a square altar. The mundus of ancient Rome
was located in the very heart of the Palatine, in front of
the Temple of Apollo, and the altar upon it was named the
Roma Quadrata. This name has been much discussed, and
it has even been applied to the Palatine city itself, although
it is an established fact that there is, strictly speaking, no
connection between the two. The controversy has been
resumed lately by Professor Luigi Pigorini in a paper still
unpublished which was read at the sitting of the German
Institute, December 17, 1890; and by Professor Otto
Richter in his pamphlet Die älteste Wohnstätte des römischen
Volks, Berlin, 1891.

In view of the ignorance of ancient writers on this subject,
and the almost absurd definitions they give of the
word, we had come to the conclusion that the altar had
been removed or concealed by Augustus, when he built the
Temple of Apollo and the Portico of the Danaids, in 2871
b. c. A remarkable inscription discovered September 20,
1890 (to which I shall refer at length later), by mentioning
the Roma Quadrata as existing a. d. 204, shows that
our opinion was wrong, and that the old altar, the most
venerable monument of Roman history, had survived the
vicissitudes of time, and the transformation of the Palatine
from the cradle of the city into the palace of the Cæsars.

In December, 1869, when the nuns of the Visitation
were laying the foundations of a new wing of their convent
on the area of the Temple of Apollo,[44] I saw a line of square
pilasters at the depth of forty-one feet below the pavement
of the Portico of the Danaids, and in the centre of the
line a heap of stones, either of tufa or peperino, roughly
squared. It is more than probable that, in 1869, I did not
think of the Roma Quadrata, and of its connection with
those remains, so deeply buried in the heart of the hill; but
I am sure that a careful investigation of that sacred spot
would lead to very important results.

Ara of Aius Locutius on the Palatine.

The Ara of Aius Locutius. In 1820, while excavations
were proceeding near the western corner of the Palatine
(at the spot marked No. 7, on the plan, page 106, of
“Ancient Rome”), an altar was discovered, of archaic
type, inscribed with the following dedication: “Sacred to72
a Divinity, whether male or female. Caius Sextius Calvinus,
son of Caius, praetor, has restored this altar by
decree of the Senate.” Nibby and Mommsen believe Calvinus
to be the magistrate mentioned twice by Cicero
as a candidate against Glaucias in the contest for the
praetorship of 125 b. c. They also identify the altar
as (a restoration of) the one raised behind the Temple of
Vesta, in the “lower New Street,” in memory of the
mysterious voice announcing the invasion of the Gauls,
in the stillness of the night, and warning the citizens to
strengthen the walls of their
city. The voice was attributed to a local Genius, whom
the people named Aius Loquens or Locutius. As a rule,
the priests refrained from mentioning in public prayers
the name and sex of new and slightly known divinities,
especially of local Genii, to which they objected for two
reasons: first, because there was danger of vitiating the
ceremony by a false invocation; secondly, because it was
prudent not to reveal the true name of these tutelary gods
to the enemy of the commonwealth, lest in case of war or
siege he could force them to abandon the defence of that
special place, by mysterious and violent rites. The formula
si deus si dea, “whether god or goddess,” is a consequence
of this superstition; its use is not uncommon on ancient
altars; Servius describes a shield dedicated on the Capitol
to the Genius of Rome, with the inscription: GENIO73
URBIS ROMÆ SIVE MAS SIVE FEMINA, “to the
tutelary Genius of the city of Rome, whether masculine or
feminine.” The Palatine altar, of which I give an illustration,
cannot fail to impress the student, on account of its
connection with one of the leading events in history, the
capture and burning of Rome by the Gauls, 390 b. c.

Pillar commemorating the Ludi Sæculares.

The Ara Ditis et Proserpinæ. On the 20th of
September, 1890, the workmen employed in the construction of the
main sewer on the left bank of the Tiber, between the Ponte S. Angelo
and the church of S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini, found a mediæval wall,
built of materials collected at random from the neighboring ruins.
Among them were fragments of one or more inscriptions which described
the celebrations of the Ludi Sæculares
under the Empire. By the end of the day, seventeen pieces had
been recovered, seven of which belonged to the records of the games
celebrated under Augustus, in the year 17 b. c., the others to those
celebrated under Septimius Severus and Caracalla, in the year 204 a. d.
Later researches led to the discovery of ninety-six other fragments, making
a total of one hundred and thirteen, of which eight are of the time of Augustus, two of
the time of Domitian, and the rest date from Severus.

The fragments of the year 17 b. c., fitted together, make74
a block three metres high, containing one hundred and
sixty-eight minutely inscribed lines. This monument, now
exhibited in the Baths of Diocletian, was in the form of a
square pillar enclosed by a projecting frame, with base and
capital of the Tuscan order, and it measured, when entire,
four metres in height. I believe that there is no inscription
among the thirty thousand collected in volume vi. of the
“Corpus” which makes a more profound impression on the
mind, or appeals more to the imagination than this official
report of a state ceremony which took place over nineteen
hundred years ago, and was attended by the most illustrious
men of the age.

The origin of the sæcular games seems to be this: In
the early days of Rome the northwest section of the Campus
Martius, bordering on the Tiber, was conspicuous for traces
of volcanic activity. There was a pool here called Tarentum
or Terentum, fed by hot sulphur springs, the efficiency
of which is attested by the cure of Volesus, the Sabine, and
his family, described by Valerius Maximus. Heavy vapors
hung over the springs, and tongues of flame were seen
issuing from the cracks of the earth. The locality became
known by the name of the fiery field (campus ignifer),
and its relationship with the infernal realms was soon an
established fact in folk-lore. An altar to the infernal gods
was erected on the borders of the pool, and games were
held periodically in honor of Dis and Proserpina, the victims
being a black bull and a black cow. Tradition attributed
this arrangement of time and ceremony to Volesus
himself, who, grateful for the recovery of his three children,
offered sacrifices to Dis and Proserpina, spread lectisternia,
or reclining couches, for the gods, with tables and viands
before them, and celebrated games for three nights, one
for each child which had been restored to health. In the75
republican epoch they were called Ludi Tarentini, from
the name of the pool, and were celebrated for the purpose
of averting from the state the recurrence of some great
calamity by which it had been afflicted. These calamities
being contingencies which no man could foresee, it is evident
that the celebration of the Ludi Tarentini was in no
way connected with definite cycles of time, such as the
sæculum.

Not long after Augustus had assumed the supreme power,
the Quindecemviri sacris faciundis (a college of priests to
whom the direction of these games had been intrusted from
time immemorial) announced that it was the will of the
gods that the Ludi Sæculares should be performed, and
misrepresenting and distorting events and dates, tried to
prove that the festival had been held regularly at intervals
of 110 years, which was supposed to be the length of a
sæculum. The games of which the Quindecemviri made
this assertion were the Tarentini, instituted for quite a different
purpose, but their suggestion was too pleasing to
Augustus and the people to be despised. Setting aside all
disputes about chronology and tradition, the celebration
was appointed for the summer of the year 17 b. c.

Plan and section of the Altar of Dis and Proserpina.

What was the exact location of the sulphur springs, the
Tarentum, and the altar of the infernal gods? I have
reason to regard the discovery of the Altar of Dis and
Proserpina as the most satisfactory I have made, especially
because I made it, if I may so express myself, when
away from Rome on a long leave of absence. It took place
in the winter of 1886-87, during my visit to America. At
that time the work of opening and draining the Corso
Vittorio Emanuele had just reached a place which was considered
terra incognita by the topographers, and indicated
by a blank spot in the archæological maps of the city. I76
mean the district between the Vallicella (la Chiesa Nuova,
the Palazzo Cesarini, etc.) and the banks of the Tiber
near S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini. The reports spoke vaguely
about the discovery of five or six parallel walls, built of
blocks of peperino, of marble steps in the centre of this
singular monument, of gates with marble posts and architraves,
leading to the spaces between the six parallel walls,
and finally, of a column with foliage carved upon its surface.
On my return to Rome, in the spring of 1887, every
trace of the monument had disappeared under the embankment77
of the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. I questioned foremen
and workmen, I consulted the notebooks of the contractors,
every day I visited the excavations which were
still in progress, on each side of the Corso, for building the
Cavalletti and Bassi palaces, and lastly, I examined the
“column with foliage carved upon its surface,” which in
the mean time had been removed to the courtyard of the
Palazzo dei Conservatori on the Capitol. This marble fragment,
the only one saved from the excavations, gave me
the clue to the mystery. It was not a column, it was a
pulvinus, or volute, of a colossal marble altar, worthy of
being compared, in size and perfection of work, with the
Altar of Peace discovered under the Palazzo Fiano, with that
of the Antonines discovered under the Monte Citorio, and
with other such monumental structures. There was then
no hesitation in determining the nature of the discoveries
made in the Corso Vittorio Emanuele; an altar had been
found there, and this altar must have been the one sacred
to Dis and Proserpina, as no other is mentioned in history
in the northwest section of the Campus Martius.

The drawings which illustrate my account of the discovery[45]
prove that the altar rose from a platform twelve
feet square, approached on all sides by three or four marble
steps, that platform and altar were enclosed by three lines
of wall at an interval of thirty-six feet from one another,
and that on the east side of the square ran a euripus, or
channel, eleven feet wide, and four feet deep, lined with
stone blocks, the incline of which towards the Tiber is
about 1:100. This last detail proves that when the rough
altar of Volesus Sabinus was succeeded by the later noble
structure, the pool was drained, and its feeding springs78
were led into the euripus, so that the patients seeking a
cure for their ailments could bathe in or drink the miracle-working
waters with greater ease. No attention whatever
was paid to the discovery at the time it took place. Instead
of reaching the ancient level, the excavation for the
main sewer of the Corso Vittorio Emanuele was stopped at
the wrong place, within three feet of the pavement; consequently
whatever fragments of the altar, of inscriptions, or
of works of art, were lying on the marble floor will lie there
forever, as the building of the palaces on either side of the
Corso, and the construction of the Corso itself, with its
costly sewers, sidewalks, etc., have made further research
impossible, at least with our present means.

Concerning the celebration which took place around this
altar in the year 17 b. c., we already possessed ample information
from such materials as the oracle of the Sibyl,
referred to by Zosimus, the Carmen Sæculare of Horace,
and the legends and designs on the medals struck for the
occasion; but the official report, discovered September 20,
1890, produces an altogether different impression; it enables
us actually to take part in the pageant, to follow with
rapture Horace as he leads a chorus of fifty-four young
men and girls of patrician birth, singing the hymn which
he composed for the occasion.[46]

There is such a tone of simplicity and common-sense,
such a display of method and mutual respect between Augustus,
the Senate, and the Quindecemviri, in the official
transactions which preceded, attended and followed the
celebration, in the resolutions passed by the several bodies,
in the proclamations addressed to the people, and in the
arrangements for the festivities, which a mass of a million79
or more spectators was expected to attend, that a lesson in
civic dignity could be learned from this report by modern
governments and corporations.

The official report begins, or rather began (the first lines
are missing), with the request presented by the Quindecemviri
to the Senate to take their proposal into consideration,
and grant the necessary funds, followed by a decree
of the Senate accepting the proposal and inviting Augustus
to take the direction of the festivities. The request was
addressed to the Senate on February 17, by Marcus
Agrippa, president of the Quindecemviri, standing before
the seat of the consuls. What a scene to witness! We
can picture to ourselves the two consuls, Gaius Furnius and
Junius Silanus, clad in their official robes, listening to the
speech of the great statesman, who is supported by twenty
colleagues, all ex-consuls, and chosen among the noblest,
richest, and most gallant patricians of the age. The Senate
agrees that the preparations for the festival, the building
of the temporary stages, hippodromes, tribunes, and scaffoldings
shall be executed by the contractors (redemptores),
and that the treasury officials shall provide the funds.

Lines 1-23 contain a letter from Augustus to the Quindecemviri
detailing the programme of the ceremonies, the
number and quality of persons who shall take part in it,
the dates and hours, and the number and character of the
victims. Two clauses of the imperial manifesto are especially
noteworthy. First, that during the three days,
June 1-3, the courthouses shall be closed, and justice shall
not be administered. Second, that ladies who are wearing
mourning shall lay aside that sign of grief for this occasion.
The date of the manifesto is March 24.

Upon the receipt of this document the Quindecemviri
meet and pass several resolutions: that the rules regarding80
the ceremonies shall be made known to the public by advertisement
(albo propositæ); that the mornings of May
26, 27, and 28, shall be set apart for the distributio suffimentorum,
in which the Quindecemviri were wont to distribute
among the citizens torches, sulphur and bitumen,
for purification; and the mornings of May 29, 30, and 31,
for the frugum acceptio, or distribution of wheat, barley,
and beans. To avoid overcrowding, four centres of distribution
are named, and each of them is placed under the
supervision of four members of the college, making a total
of sixteen delegates. The places indicated in the programme
are the platform of the Capitolium, the area in
front of the Temple of Jupiter Tonans, the Portico of the
Danaids on the Palatine, and the Temple of Diana on the
Aventine.

On May 23 the Senate meets in the Septa Julia—the
ruins of which still exist, under the Palazzo Doria and the
church of S. Maria in Via Lata—and passes two resolutions.
Horace’s hymn, vv. 17-20, alludes to the first: “O Goddess,
whether you choose the title of Lucina or of Genitalis,
multiply our offspring, and prosper the decree of the
Senate in relation to the giving of women in wedlock, and
the matrimonial laws.” Among the penalties imposed on
men and women who remained single between the ages of
twenty and fifty years, was the prohibition against attending
public festivities and ceremonies of state. The Senate,
considering the extraordinary case of the Ludi Sæculares,
which none among the living had seen or would ever see
again, removes this prohibition. The second resolution
provides for the erection of two commemorative pillars, one
of bronze, the other of marble, upon which the official report
of the celebration shall be engraved. The bronze
pillar is probably lost forever, but the marble one is that81
recovered on the banks of the Tiber, September 20, 1890,
the inscription on which I am endeavoring to explain.

The celebration in the strict sense of the word began at
the second hour of the night of May 31. Sacrifices were
offered to the Fates, on altars erected between the Tarentum
and the banks of the Tiber, where S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini
now stands; and the other ceremonies were performed
on a wooden stage which was illuminated by lights and
fires. This temporary theatre was not provided with seats,
and the report calls it “a stage without a theatre.” In the
performances of the next day and in those of June 2 and 3,
which took place on the Capitol and the Palatine, the following
order was observed in the ceremonial pageant; first
came Augustus as Emperor and Pontifex Maximus, next
the Consuls, the Senate, the Quindecemviri and other colleges
of priests, then followed the Vestal Virgins, and a
group of one hundred and ten matrons (as many as there
were years in the sæculum) selected from among the most
exemplary matres familiæ above twenty-five years of age.

Twenty-seven boys and twenty-seven girls of patrician
descent whose parents were both living (patrimi et matrimi)
were enlisted on June 3, to sing the hymn composed
expressly by Horace. “Carmen composuit Q. Horatius
Flaccus,” so the report says (line 149). The first stanzas
of the beautiful canticle were sung when the procession
was marching from the Temple of Apollo to that of Jupiter
Capitolinus, the middle portion on the Capitol, and the last
on the way back to the Palatine. The accompaniments
were played by the orchestra and the trumpeters of the official
choir (tibicines et fidicines qui sacris publicis præsto
sunt). The wealth of magnificence and beauty which the
Romans beheld on the morning of June 3, 17 b. c., we can
see as in a dream, but it baffles description. Imagine the82
group of fifty-four young patricians clad in snow-white
tunics, crowned with flowers, and waving branches of
laurel, led by Horace down the Vicus Apollinis (the street
which led from the Summa Sacra Via to the house of Augustus
on the Palatine), and the Sacra Via, singing the
praises of the immortal gods:—

“Quibus septem placuere colles!”

During those days and nights Augustus gave evidence of
a truly remarkable strength of mind and body, never missing
a ceremony, and himself performing the sacrifices.
Agrippa showed less power of endurance than his friend
and master. He appeared only in the daytime, helping
the emperor in addressing supplications to the gods, and
in immolating the victims.

Ara Pacis Augustae. Among the honors voted to
Augustus by the Senate in the year 13 b. c., on the occasion
of his triumphal return from the campaigns of Germany
and Gaul, was the erection of a votive altar in the
Curia itself. Augustus refused it, but consented that an
altar should be raised in the Campus Martius and dedicated
to Peace. Judging from the fragments which have
come down to us, this ara was one of the most exquisite
artistic productions of the golden age of Augustus. It
stood in the centre of a triple square enclosure, on the west
side of the Via Flaminia, the site of the present Palazzo
Fiano. Twice its remains have been brought to light; once
in 1554, when they were drawn by Giovanni Colonna,[47] and
again in 1859, when the present duke of Fiano was rebuilding
the southern wing of the palace on the Via in Lucina.
Of the panels and basreliefs found in 1554, some were83
removed to the Villa Medici and inserted in the front of
the casino, on the garden side; others were transferred to
Florence; those of 1859 have been placed in the vestibule
of the Palazzo Fiano. They are well worth a visit.

The family of Augustus. Relief from the Ara Pacis, in the Gallery of the Uffizi, Florence.

Ara Incendii Neroniani. In the month of July, a. d.
65, half Rome was destroyed by the fire of Nero. The
citizens, overwhelmed by the greatness of the calamity, and
ignorant of its true cause, made a vow for the annual celebration
of expiatory sacrifices, on altars expressly constructed
for the purpose in each of the fourteen regions
of the metropolis. The vow was, however, forgotten until
Domitian claimed its fulfilment some twenty or twenty-five
years later. One of these altars, which adjoined Domitian’s
paternal house on the Quirinal, has just been found near
the church of S. Andrea del Noviziato, in the foundations
of the new “Ministero della Casa Reale.”

84The altar, six metres long by three wide, built of travertine
with a coating of marble, stands in the middle of a
paved area of considerable size. The area is lined with
stone cippi, placed at an interval of two and a half metres
from one another. The following inscription has been
found engraved on two of them: “This sacred area,
marked with stone cippi, and enclosed with a hedge, as well
as the altar which stands in the middle of it, was dedicated
by the emperor Domitian in consequence of an unfulfilled
vow made by the citizens at the time of the fire of
Nero. The dedication is made subject to the following
rules: that no one shall be allowed to loiter, trade, build,
or plant trees or shrubs within the line of terminal stones;
that on August 23 of each year, the day of the Volkanalia,
the magistrate presiding over this sixth region shall
sacrifice on this altar a red calf and a pig; that he shall
address to the gods the following prayer (text missing).”
The inscription has been read twice: once towards the end
of the fifteenth century, when the cippus containing it was
removed to S. Peter’s and made use of in the new building,
and again in 1644, when Pope Barberini was laying the
foundations of S. Andrea al Quirinale, one of the most
graceful and pleasing churches of modern Rome.

Let us now turn our attention to more imposing structures.
The first temple in the excavation of which I took
part was that of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline
Hill.[48] Its discovery was due more to an intuition85
of the truth, than to actual recognition of existing remains.
On November 7, 1875, while digging for the foundation
of the new Rotunda in the garden which divides the
Conservatori palace from that of the Caffarellis,—the residence
of the German ambassador,—our workmen came
upon a piece of a colossal fluted column of Pentelic marble,
lying on a platform of squared stones, which were laid
without mortar, in a decidedly archaic style. Were we in
the presence of the remains of the famous Capitolium, or
of one of the smaller temples within the Arx? To give
this query a satisfactory answer, we must remember that
the Capitoline Hill had two summits, one containing the
citadel, or Arx, the other the Temple of Jupiter Optimus
Maximus, the Capitolium. Ancient writers never use the
two names promiscuously, or apply them indifferently to
either summit or to the whole hill. The name of the hill
is the Capitoline; not the Capitol, which means exclusively
the portion occupied by the great temple. Suffice it to
quote Livy’s evidence (vi. 20), ne quis in Arce aut Capitolio
habitaret, and also the passage of Aulus Gellius
(v. 12) in which the shrine of Vedjovis is placed between
the Arx and the Capitolium.

For many generations topographers tried to discover
which summit was occupied by the citadel, and which by
the temple. The Italian school, save a few exceptions, had
always identified the site of the Aracœli with that of the
temple, the Caffarelli palace with that of the citadel. The
Germans upheld the opposite theory. In these circumstances
it is not surprising that the discovery made November86
7, 1875, should have excited us; because we saw at
once our chance of settling the dispute, not theoretically,
but with the evidence of facts.

The Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, designed by
Tarquinius Priscus, built by Tarquinius Superbus, and
dedicated in 509 b. c. by the consul M. Horatius Pulvillus,
stood on a high platform 207½ feet long, by 192½ feet
broad. The front of the edifice, ornamented with three
rows of columns, faced the south. The style of the architecture
was purely Etruscan, and the intercolumniations
were so wide as to require architraves of timber. The
cella was divided into three sections, the middle one of
which was sacred to Jupiter, that on the right to Minerva,
that on the left to Juno Regina; the top of the pediment
was ornamented with a terra-cotta quadriga. Of the same
material was the statue of the god, with the face painted
red, and the body dressed in a tunica palmata and a toga
picta, the work of an Etruscan artist, Turianus of Fregenæ.

In 386 b. c. it was found necessary to enlarge the platform
in the centre of which the temple stood; and as the
hill was sloping, even precipitous, on three sides, it was
necessary to raise huge foundation walls from the plain
below to the level of the platform, a work described by
Pliny (xxxvi. 15, 24) as prodigious, and by Livy (vi. 4) as
one of the wonders of Rome.

THE WESTERN SUMMIT OF THE CAPITOLINE HILL (R. Lanciani del.)

On July 6, 83 b. c., four hundred and twenty-six years
after its dedication by Horatius Pulvillus, an unknown
malefactor, taking advantage of the abundance of timber
used in the structure, set fire to it, and utterly destroyed
the sanctuary which for four centuries had presided over
the fates of the Roman Commonwealth. The incendiary,
less fortunate than Erostratos, remained unknown, the
suspicions cast at the time against Papirius Carbo, Scipio,87
Norbanus and Sulla having proved groundless. He probably
belonged to the faction of Marius, because we know
that Marius himself laid hands on the half-charred ruins of
the temple, and pillaged several thousand pounds of gold.

Sulla the dictator undertook the reconstruction of the
Capitolium, for which purpose he caused some columns of
the temple of the Olympian Jupiter to be removed from
Athens to Rome. Sulla’s work was continued by Lutatius
Catulus, and finished by Julius Cæsar in 46 b. c. A second
restoration took place in the year 9 b. c. under Augustus,
a third a. d. 74 under Vespasian, and the last in
the year 82, under Domitian. It was therefore evident that,
if the temple had not been literally obliterated since that
time, its remains would show the characteristics of the age
of Domitian, who is known to have made use of Pentelic
marble in his reconstruction. We should also find these
remains in the middle of a platform of the time of the
kings, surrounded by foundation walls of the time of the
republic. The accompanying plan shows how perfectly
the remains discovered on the southwestern summit of the
Capitoline Hill corresponded to this theory.

The platform, in the shape of a parallelogram, 183 feet
broad and a few feet longer, is built of roughly squared
blocks of capellaccio, exactly like certain portions of the
Servian walls. Its area and height were reduced by one
third, when the Caffarellis built their palace, in 1680. A
sketch taken at that time by Fabretti and published in his
volume “De Columna Trajana” shows that fourteen tiers of
stone have disappeared. A portion of the same platform,
discovered in 1865, by Herr Schloezer, Prussian minister
to Pius IX., is represented on the next page.

The foundation walls, which Pliny and Livy enumerate
among the wonders of Rome, have been, and are still88
being, discovered on the three sides of the hill which face
the Piazza della Consolazione, the Piazza Montanara, and
the Via di Torre de’ Specchi. They are built of blocks of
red tufa, with facing of travertine. The travertine facing
is covered with inscriptions set up in honor of the great
divinity of Rome by the kings and nations of the whole
world. One cannot read these historical documents[49] without
acquiring a new sense of the magnitude and power of
the city.

View of the Platform of the Temple of Jupiter.

These inscriptions are found mostly at the foot of the substructure,
on the side towards the Piazza della Consolazione.
The latest, found in the foundations of the Palazzo Moroni,
contain messages of friendship and gratitude from kings89
Mithradates Philopator and Mithradates Philadelphos, of
Pontus, from Ariobarzanes Philoromæus of Cappadocia
and Athenais his queen, from the province of Lycia, from
some townships of the province of Caria, etc.

As for the remains of the temple itself, the colossal
column discovered November 7, 1875, in the Conservatori
garden, is not the only one saved from the wreck. Flaminio
Vacca, the sculptor and amateur-archæologist of the
sixteenth century, says: “Upon the Tarpeian Rock, behind
the Palazzo de’ Conservatori, several pillars of Pentelic
marble (marmo statuale) were lately found. Their
capitals are so enormous that out of one of them I have
carved the lion now in the Villa Medici. The others were
used by Vincenzo de Rossi to carve the prophets and other
statues which adorn the chapel of cardinal Cesi in the
church of S. Maria della Pace. I believe the columns belonged
to the Temple of Jupiter. No fragments of the
entablature were found: but as the building was so close
to the edge of the Tarpeian Rock, I suspect they must have
fallen into the plain.”

The correctness of this surmise is shown not only by the
discovery of the dedicatory inscriptions, in the Piazza della
Consolazione, just alluded to, but also from what took
place in 1780, when the duca Lante della Rovere was excavating
the foundations of a house, No. 13, Via Montanera.
The discoveries are described by Montagnani as
“marble entablatures of enormous size and beautiful workmanship,
with festoons and bucranii in the frieze. No one
took the trouble to sketch them; they were destroyed on
the spot. I have no doubt that they belonged to the
temple seen by Vacca on the Monte Tarpeo, one hundred
and eighty-six years ago.”

All these indications, compared with the discovery of the90
platform, the substructure, and the column of Pentelic
marble in the Conservatori garden, leave no doubt as to
the real position of the Temple of Jupiter. To that piece
of marble we owe the opportunity and the privilege of
settling a dispute on Roman topography which had lasted
at least three centuries.

The temple, rebuilt by Domitian, stood uninjured till the
middle of the fifth century. In June, 455, the Vandals,
under Genseric, plundered the sanctuary, its statues were
carried off to adorn the African residence of the king, and
half the roof was stripped of its gilt bronze tiles. From
that time the place was used as a stone-quarry and lime-kiln
to such an extent that only the solitary fragment of a
column remains on the spot to tell the long tale of destruction.
Another piece of Pentelic marble was found January
24, 1889, near the Tullianum (S. Pietro in Carcere). It
belongs to the top of a column, and has the same number
of flutings,—twenty-four. This fragment seems to have
been sawn on the spot to the desired length, seven feet,
and then dragged down the hill towards some stone-cutter’s
shop. Why it was thus abandoned, half way, in a hollow
or pit dug expressly for it, there is nothing to show.

The Temple of Jupiter is represented in ancient monuments
of the class called pictorial reliefs. I have selected
for my illustration one of the panels from the triumphal
arch of Marcus Aurelius, near S. Martina, because it contains
a good sketch of the reliefs of the pediment, with
Jupiter seated between Juno and Minerva. The temple
itself is most carelessly drawn, the number of columns being
reduced by one half, that is, from eight to four.[50]

PANEL FROM THE ARCH OF MARCUS AURELIUS

91There is one interesting feature of the Capitolium, which
is not well known among those who do not make a profession
of archæology. It was used as a place for advertising
State acts, deeds, and documents, in order that the public
might take notice of them and be informed of what was
going on in the administrative, military, and political departments.
This fact is known from a clause appended to
imperial letters-patent by which veterans were honorably
discharged from the army or navy, and privileges bestowed
on them in recognition of their services. These deeds,
known as diplomata honestæ missionis, were engraved on
bronze tablets shaped like the cover of a book, the original
of which was hung somewhere in the Capitolium, and a
copy taken by the veteran to his home. The originals are
all gone, having fallen the prey of the plunderers of bronze
in Rome, but copies are found in great numbers in every
province of the Roman empire from which men were
drafted.[51] These copies end with the clause:—

“Transcribed (and compared or verified) from the original
bronze tablet which is hung in Rome, in the Capitolium”—and
here follows the designation of a special
place of the Capitolium, such as,—

“On the right side of the shrine of the Fides populi
romani” (December 11, a. d. 52).

“On the left side of the ædes Thensarum” (July 2,
a. d. 60).

“On the pedestal of the statue of Quintus Marcius Rex,
behind the temple of Jupiter” (June 15, 64).

“On the pedestal of the ara gentis Iuliæ, on the right
side, the statue of Bacchus” (March 7, 71).

92“On the vestibule, on the left wall, between the two
archways” (May 21, 74).

“On the pedestal of the statue of Jupiter Africus”
(December 2, 76).

“On the base of the column, on the inner side, near the
statue of Jupiter Africus” (September 5, 85).

“On the tribunal by the trophies of Germanicus, which
are near the shrine of the Fides” (May 15, 86).

Comparing these indications of localities with the dates
of the diplomas,—there are sixty-three in all,—it appears
that they were not hung at random, but in regular
order from monument to monument, until every available
space was covered. In the year 93 there was not an inch
left, and the Capitol is mentioned no more as a place for
exhibiting or advertising the acts of Government. From
that year they were hung “in muro post templum divi
ad Minervam,” that is, behind the modern church of S.
Maria Liberatrice.

The Temple of Isis and Serapis. In the spring of
1883, in surveying the tract of ground between the Collegio
Romano and the Baths of Agrippa, formerly occupied
by the Temple of Isis and Serapis, and in collecting
archæological information concerning it, I was struck by
the fact that, every time excavations were made on either
side of the Via di S. Ignazio for building or restoring the
houses which line it, remarkable specimens of Egyptian
art had been brought to light. The annals of discoveries
begin with 1374, when the obelisk now in the Piazza della
Rotonda was found, under the apse of the church of S.
Maria sopra Minerva, together with the one now in the
Villa Mattei von Hoffman. In 1435, Eugenius IV. discovered
the two lions of Nektaneb I. which are now in the93
Vatican, and the two of black basalt now in the Capitoline
Museum. In 1440 the reclining figure of a river-god was
found and buried again. The Tiber of the Louvre and
the Nile of the Braccio Nuovo seem to have come to light
during the pontificate of Leo X.; at all events it was he
who caused them to be removed to the Vatican. In 1556
Giovanni Battista de Fabi found, and sold to cardinal
Farnese, the reclining statue of Oceanus now in Naples.
In 1719 the Isiac altar now in the Capitol was found under
the Biblioteca Casanatense. In 1858 Pietro Tranquilli, in
restoring his house,—the nearest to the apse of la Minerva,—came
across the following-named objects: a sphinx of
green granite, the head of which is a portrait of Queen
Haths’epu, the oldest sister of Thothmes III., who was
famous for her expedition to the Red Sea, recently described
by Dümmichen;[52] a sphinx of red granite, believed
to be a Roman replica; a group of the cow Hathor, the
living symbol of Isis, nursing the young Pharaoh Horemheb;
the portrait statue of the grand dignitary Uahábra, a
good specimen of Saïtic art; a column of the temple, covered
with high reliefs, which represented a procession of
bald-headed priests holding canopi in their hands; a capital,
carved with papyrus leaves and lotus flowers; and
a fragment of an Egyptian basrelief in red granite, with
traces of polychromy.

In 1859 Augusto Silvestrelli, the owner of the next
house, on the same side of the Via di S. Ignazio, found five
capitals of the same style and size, which, I believe, are
now in the Museo Etrusco Gregoriano. Inasmuch as no
excavation had ever been made under the pavement of the
street itself, which is public property, and as there was no
reason why that strip of public property should not contain94
as many works of art as the houses about it, I asked the
municipal authorities to try the experiment, and my proposal
was accepted at once.

The Sphinx of Amasis.

The work began on Monday, June 11, 1883. It was
difficult, because we had to dig to a depth of twenty feet
between houses of very doubtful solidity. First to appear,
at the end of the third day, was a magnificent sphinx of
black basalt, the portrait of King Amasis. It is a masterpiece of the
Saïtic school, perfected even in the smallest details, and still more impressive
for its historical connection with the conquest of Egypt by Cambyses.

The cartouches bearing the king’s name appear to have been
purposely erased, though not so completely as to render the name
illegible. The nose, likewise, and the uræus, the symbol of royalty,
were hammered away at the same time. The explanation of
these facts is given by Herodotos. When Cambyses conquered Saïs,
Amasis had just been buried. The
conqueror caused the body to be dragged out of the royal
tomb, then flogged and otherwise insulted, and finally
burnt, the maximum of profanation, from an Egyptian
point of view. His name was erased from the monuments
which bore it, as a natural consequence of the memoriæ
damnatio. This sphinx is the surviving testimonial of the
eventful catastrophe. When, six or seven centuries later, a
Roman governor of Egypt, or a Roman merchant from the95
same province, singled out this work of art, to be shipped
to Rome as a votive offering for the Temple of Isis, ignorant
of the historical value of its mutilations,
he had the nose and the uræus carefully restored.
Now both are gone again, and there
is no danger of a second restoration. I may
remark, as a curious coincidence, that, as the
name of Amasis is erased from the sphinx, so
that of Hophries, his predecessor, is erased
from the obelisk discovered in the same temple,
and now in the Piazza della Minerva. In
these two monuments of the Roman Iseum we
possess a synopsis of Egyptian history between
595 and 526 b. c.

Obelisk of Rameses the Great.

The second work, discovered June 17, was
an obelisk which was wonderfully well preserved
to the very top of the pinnacle, and
covered with hieroglyphics. It was quarried
at Assuan, from a richly colored vein of red
granite, and was brought to Rome, probably
under Domitian, together with the obelisk now
in the Piazza del Pantheon. The two monoliths
are almost identical in size and workmanship,
and are inscribed with the same cartouches
of Rameses the Great. The one
which I discovered was set up, in 1887, to the
memory of our brave soldiers who fell at the
battle of Dogali. The site selected for the
monument, the square between the railway
station and the Baths of Diocletian, is too
large for such a comparatively small shaft.

Two days later, on the 19th, we discovered two kynokephaloi
or kerkopithekoi, five feet high, carved in black96
porphyry. The monsters are sitting on their hind legs,
with the paws of the forearms resting on the knees. Their
bases contain finely-cut hieroglyphics, with the cartouche
of King Necthor-heb, of the thirtieth Sebennitic dynasty.
One of these kynokephaloi, and also the obelisk, were certainly
seen in 1719 by the masons who built the foundations
of the Biblioteca Casanatense. For some reason unknown
to us, they kept their discovery a secret. Many
other works of art were discovered before the close of the
excavations, in the last days of June. Among them were
a crocodile in red granite, the pedestal of a candelabrum,
triangular in shape, with sphinxes at the corners; a column
of the temple, with reliefs representing an Isiac procession;
and a portion of a capital. From an architectural point of
view, the most curious discovery was that the temple itself,
with its colonnades and double cella, had been brought
over, piece by piece, from the banks of the Nile to those of
the Tiber. It is not an imitation; it is a purely original
Egyptian structure, shaded first by the palm-trees of Saïs,
and later by the pines of the Campus Martius.

The earliest trustworthy account we have of its existence
is given by Flavius Josephus. He relates how Tiberius,
after the assault of Mundus against Paulina,[53] condemned
the priests to crucifixion, burned the shrine, and threw the
statue of the goddess into the Tiber. Nero restored the
sanctuary; it was, however, destroyed again in the great
conflagration, a. d. 80. Domitian was the second restorer;
Hadrian, Commodus, Caracalla, and Alexander Severus improved
and beautified the group, from time to time. At
the beginning of the fourth century of our era it contained
the propylaia, or pyramidal towers with a gateway,
at each end of the dromos; one near the present church97
of S. Stefano del Cacco, one near the church of S. Macuto.
They were flanked by one or more pairs of obelisks, of
which six have been recovered up to the present time,
namely, one now in the Piazza della Rotonda, a second in
the Piazza della Minerva, a third in the Villa Mattei, a
fourth in the Piazza della Stazione, a fifth in the Sphæristerion
at Urbino, and fragments of a sixth in the Albani
collection.

From the propylaia, a dromos, or sacred avenue, led to
the double temple. To the dromos belong the two lions in
the Museo Etrusco Gregoriano, the two lions in the Capitoline
Museum, the sphinx of Queen Hathsèpu in the Barracco
collection, the sphinx of Amasis and the Tranquilli
sphinx in the Capitol, the cow Hathor and the statue of
Uahábra in the Museo Archeologico in Florence, the kynokephaloi
of Necthor-heb, the kynokephalos which gave the
popular name of Cacco (ape) to the church of S. Stefano,
the statue formerly in the Ludovisi Gallery, the Nile of the
Braccio Nuovo, the Tiber of the Louvre, the Oceanus at
Naples, the River-God buried in 1440, the Isiac altars of
the Capitol and of the Louvre, the tripod, the crocodile
and sundry other fragments which were found in 1883.
Of the temple itself we possess two columns covered with
mystic bas-reliefs, seven capitals,—one in the Capitol, the
others in the Vatican,—and two blocks of granite from
the walls of the cella, one in the Barberini gardens, one in
the Palazzo Galitzin.

The last historical mention we possess of this admirable
Egyptian museum of ancient Rome was found by Delille
in the “Cod. Parisin.” 8064, in which the attempt by Nicomachus
Flavianus to revive the pagan religion in 394 a. d.
is minutely described.[54] The reaction caused by this final98
outburst of fanaticism must have been fatal to the temple.
The masterpieces of the dromos were upset, and otherwise
damaged, the faces of the kynokephaloi and the noses and
paws of the sphinxes were knocked off, and statues of
Pharaohs, gods, priests, dignitaries, and Pastophoroi were
hurled from their pedestals, and broken to pieces. When
this wholesale destruction took place, the pavement of the
temple was still clear of the rubbish and loose soil. The
sphinx of Amasis, found June 14, was lying on its left side
on the bare pavement; the two apes had fallen on their
backs. No attempt, however, was made to overthrow the
obelisks, at least the one which I discovered. When
the monolith fell, in the eighth or ninth century, the floor
of the Iseum was already covered with a bed of rubbish five
feet thick. To this fact we owe the wonderful preservation
of the obelisk, the soft, muddy condition of the soil
having eased the weight of the fall.

Students have wondered at the existence, in our time, of
such a mine of antiquities in this quarter of the Campus
Martius, where it appears as if, in spite of the feverish
search for ancient marbles, this spot had escaped the attention
of the excavators of the past four or five centuries.
It did not escape their attention. The whole area of the
Iseum, save a few recesses, has been explored since the
Middle Ages, but the search was made to secure marble,
which could be burnt into lime, or turned into new shapes.
Of what use would porphyry, or granite, or basalt be for
such purposes? These materials are useless for the lime-kiln,
and too hard to be worked anew, and accordingly
they were left alone. In the excavations of 1883 I found
the best evidence that such was the case. The obelisk is of
granite; its pedestal of white marble. The obelisk escaped
destruction, but the pedestal was split, and made ready for
the lime-kiln.

99The Temple of Neptune. The discoveries made in
1878 in the Piazza di Pietra, on the site of the Temple of
Neptune, rank next in importance to those just described.
In repairing a drain which runs through the Via de’ Bergamaschi
to the Piazza di Pietra, the foundations of an
early mediæval church, dedicated to S. Stephen (Santo
Stefano del Trullo) were unearthed, together with historical
inscriptions, pieces of columns of giallo antico, and
other architectural fragments. On a closer examination of
the discoveries, I was able to ascertain that the whole
church had been built with spoils from the triumphal arch
of Claudius in the Piazza di Sciarra, and from the Temple
of Neptune in the Piazza di Pietra. To enable the reader
to appreciate the value of the discovery, I must begin with
a short description of the temple itself.

One of the Provinces from the Temple of Neptune.

Dio Cassius (liii. 27) states that, in 26 b. c., Marcus
Agrippa built the Portico of the Argonauts, with a temple
in the middle of it, called the Poseidonion (ΠΟΣΕΙΔΩΝΙΟΝ),
in token of his gratitude to the god of the seas
for the naval victories he had gained over the foes of the
commonwealth; but the beautiful ruins still existing in
the Piazza di Pietra do not belong to Agrippa’s work, nor
to the golden age of Roman art. They belong to the restoration
of the temple which was made by Hadrian after
the great fire of a. d. 80, by which the Neptunium, or
Poseidonion, was nearly destroyed. The characteristic
feature of the temple was a set of thirty-six bas-reliefs
representing the thirty-six provinces of the Roman Empire
at the beginning of the Christian era. These reliefs were
set into the basement of the temple, so as to form the
pedestals of the thirty-six columns of the peristyle, while
the intercolumniations, or spaces between the pedestals,
were occupied by another set of bas-reliefs representing the100
military uniforms, flags and weapons which were peculiar
to each of the provinces. The fifteen provinces and fourteen
trophies belonging to the colonnade of the Piazza di
Pietra, that is, to the north side of the temple, have all
been accounted for. Four provinces were found during
the pontificate of Paul III. (1534-50), two during that of
Innocent X. (1644-55), two during that of Alexander VII.
(1655-1667), three in our excavations of 1878, and four
either are still in the ground or have perished in a lime-kiln.
Here again we have an instance of the shameful
dispersion of the spoils of ancient Rome. We have
this wing of the temple still standing in all its glory, in
the Piazza di Pietra; we have eleven pedestals out of
fifteen, and as many panels for the intercolumniations;
the others are probably within our reach, and we
have beautiful pieces of the entablature with its rich carvings.
The temple, entablature, and nearly all the trophies and provinces are public
property; nothing would be easier than to restore each
piece to its proper place, and make this wing of the Neptunium
one of the most perfect relics of ancient Rome.
Alas! three provinces and two trophies have emigrated to
Naples with the rest of the Farnese marbles, one has been
left behind in the portico of the Farnese palace in Rome,
five provinces and four trophies are in the Palazzo dei Conservatori,
two are in the Palazzo Odescalchi, one is in the101
Palazzo Altieri, two pieces of the entablature are used as a
rustic seat in the Giardino delle Tre Pile on the Capitol,
and another has been used in the restoration of the Arch of
Constantine.

The Temple of Augustus. It is a remarkable fact
that, at the beginning of archæological research in the
Renaissance, there was great enthusiasm over a few strange
monuments of little or no interest, the existence of which
would have been altogether unknown but for an occasional
mention in classical texts. As a rule, the cinquecento
topographers give a prominent place in their books to the
columna Mænia, the columna Lactaria, the senaculum
mulierum, the pila Tiburtina, the pila Horatia and other
equally unimportant works which, for reasons unknown to
us, had forcibly struck their fancy. The fashion died out
in course of time, but never entirely. Some of these more
or less fanciful structures still live in our books, and in the
imagination of the people. The place of honor, in this
line, belongs to Caligula’s bridge, which is supposed to
have crossed the valley of the Forum at a prodigious
height, so as to enable the young monarch to walk on a
level from his Palatine house to the Temple of Jupiter on
the Capitol. This bridge is not only mentioned in guide-books,
and pointed out to strangers on their first visit to
the Forum, but is also drawn and described in works of a
higher standard,[55] in which the bridge is represented from
“remains concealed under a house, which have been carefully
examined and measured, as well as drawn by architectural
draughtsmen of much experience.”

The bridge never existed. Caligula made use of the
roofs of edifices which were already there, spanning only102
the gaps of the streets with temporary wooden passages.
This is clearly stated by Suetonius in chapters xxii. and
xxxvii. and by Flavius Josephus, “Antiq. Jud.” xix. 1, 11.
From the palace at the northeast corner of the Palatine, he
crossed the roof of the templum divi Augusti, then the
fastigium basilicæ Juliæ, and lastly the Temple of Saturn
close to the Capitolium. The Street of Victory which
divided the emperor’s palace from the Temple of Augustus,
the Street of the Tuscans which divided the temple from
the basilica, and the Vicus Iugarius between the basilica
and the Temple of Saturn, were but a few feet wide and
could easily be crossed by means of a passerelle. We are
told by Suetonius and Josephus how Caligula used sometimes
to interrupt his aerial promenade midway, and throw
handfuls of gold from the roof of the basilica to the crowd
assembled below. I have mentioned this bridge because
the words of Suetonius, supra templum divi Augusti ponte
transmisso, gave me the first clew towards the identification
of the splendid ruins which tower just behind the
church of S. Maria Liberatrice, between it and the rotunda
of S. Teodoro.

Plan of the Temple of Augustus.

The position of Caligula’s palace at the northeast corner
of the Palatine being well known, as also the site of the
Basilica Julia, it is evident that the building which stands
between the two must be the Temple of Augustus. This
conclusion is so simple that I wonder that no one had mentioned
it before my first announcement in 1881. The last
nameless remains adjoining the Forum have thus regained
their place and their identity in the topography of this
classic quarter.

Remains of the Temple of Augustus, from a sketch by Ligorio.

The construction of a temple in honor of the deified
founder of the empire was begun by his widow Livia, and
Tiberius, his adopted son, and completed by Caligula. An103
inscription discovered in 1726, in the Columbaria of Livia
on the Appian Way, mentions a C. Julius Bathyllus, sacristan
or keeper of the temple. Pliny (xii. 19, 42) describes, among the
curiosities of the place, a root of a cinnamon-tree, of extraordinary size,
placed by Livia on a golden tray. The relic was destroyed
by fire in the reign of Titus. Domitian must have restored
the building, because the rear wall of the temple, the murus
post templum divi Augusti ad Minervam, is mentioned
in contemporary documents as the place on which state
notices were posted. It has been excavated but once, in
June, 1549, when the Forum, the Sacra Via and the Street
of the Tuscans were ransacked
to supply marbles and lime
for the building of S. Peter’s.
Two documents show the wonderful
state of preservation in
which the temple was found.
One is a sketch, taken in
1549, by Pirro Ligorio, which,
through the kindness of Professor
T. H. Middleton,[56] I
reproduce from the original,
in the Bodleian Library; the other is a description of the
discovery by Panvinius.[57] The place was in such good condition104
that even the statue and altar of Vortumnus, described
by Livy, Asconius, Varro and others, were found lying at
the foot of the steps of the temple.

The Sacellum Sanci, or Shrine of Sancus on the
Quirinal.[58] The worship of Semo Sancus Sanctus Dius
Fidius was imported into Rome at a very early period, by
the Sabines who first colonized the Quirinal Hill. He was
considered the Genius of heavenly light, the son of Jupiter
Diespiter or Lucetius, the avenger of dishonesty, the upholder
of truth and good faith, whose mission upon earth
was to secure the sanctity of agreements, of matrimony,
and hospitality. Hence his various names and his identification
with the Roman Hercules, who was likewise invoked
as a guardian of the sanctity of oaths (me-Hercle, me-Dius
Fidius). There were two shrines of Semo Sancus in ancient
Rome, one built by the Sabines on the Quirinal, near
the modern church of S. Silvestro, from which the Porta
Sanqualis of the Servian walls was named, the other built
by the Romans on the Island of the Tiber (S. Bartolomeo)
near the Temple of Jupiter Jurarius. Justin, the apologist
and martyr, laboring under the delusion that Semo Sancus
and Simon the Magician were the same, describes the altar
on the island of S. Bartolomeo as sacred to the latter.[59] He
must have glanced hurriedly at the first three names of the
Sabine god,—SEMONI SANCO DEO,—and translated
them ΣΙΜΩΝΙ ΔΕΩ ΣΑΓΚΤΩ.
The altar on which these names were written, the very one seen and described by S.
Justin, was discovered on the same island, in July, 1574,105
during the pontificate of Gregory XIII. The altar is preserved
in the Galleria Lapidaria of the Vatican Museum,
in the first compartment (Dii).

Statue of Semo Sancus.

The shrine on the Quirinal is minutely
described by classical writers. It
was hypæthral, that is, without a roof,
so that the sky could be seen by the
worshippers of the “Genius of heavenly
light.” The oath me-Dius Fidius
could not be taken except in the
open air. The chapel contained relics
of the kingly period, the wool, distaff,
spindle, and slippers of Tanaquil, and
brass clypea or medallions, made of
money confiscated from Vitruvius
Vaccus.

Its foundations were discovered in
March, 1881, under what was formerly
the convent of S. Silvestro al
Quirinale, now the headquarters of the
Royal Engineers. The monument is
a parallelogram in shape, thirty-five
feet long by nineteen feet wide, with
walls of travertine, and decorations of
white marble; and it is surrounded
by votive altars and pedestals of statues.
I am not sure whether the remarkable
work of art which I shall
describe presently was found in this
very place, but it is a strange coincidence that, during the
progress of the excavations at S. Silvestro, a statue of Semo
Sancus and a pedestal inscribed with his name should have
appeared in the antiquarian market of the city.

106The statue, reproduced here from a heliogravure, is life-sized,
and represents a nude youth, of archaic type. His
attitude may be compared to that of some early representations
of Apollo, but the expression of the face and the
modelling of some parts of the body are realistic rather
than conventional. Both hands are missing, so that it is
impossible to state what were the attributes of the god.
Visconti thinks they may have been the avis Sanqualis or
ossifraga, and the club of Hercules. The inscription on
the pedestal is very much like that seen by S. Justin:—

SEMONI . SANCO . DEO . FIDIO . SACRUM . DECURIA . SACER-
DOT[UM] BIDENTALIUM.

According to Festus, bidentalia were small shrines of
second-rate divinities, to whom bidentes, lambs two years
old, were sacrificed. For this reason the priests of Semo
were called sacerdotes bidentales. They were organized,
like a lay corporation, in a decuria under the presidency of
a magister quinquennalis. Their residence, adjoining the
chapel, was ample and commodious, with an abundant
supply of water. The lead pipe by which this was distributed
through the establishment was discovered at the
same time and in the same place with the bronze statues of
athletes described in chapter xi. of my “Ancient Rome.”

The pipe has been removed to the Capitoline Museum,
the statue and its pedestal have been purchased by Pope
Leo XIII. and placed in the Galleria dei Candelabri, and
the foundations of the shrine have been destroyed.

Rome, according to an old saying, contains as many
churches as there are days in the year. This statement is
too modest; the “great catalogue” published by cardinal108
Mai[60] mentions over a thousand places of worship, while
nine hundred and eighteen are registered in Professor
Armellini’s “Chiese di Roma.” A great many have disappeared
since the first institution, and are known only from
ruins, or inscriptions and chronicles. Others have been
disfigured by “restorations.” Without denying the fact
that our sacred buildings excel in quantity rather than
quality, there is no doubt that as a whole they form the
best artistic and historic collection in the world. Every
age, from the apostolic to the present, every school, every
style has its representatives in the churches of Rome.

The assertion that the works of mediæval architects have
been destroyed or modernized to such an extent as to leave
a wide gap between the classic and Renaissance periods,
must have been made by persons unacquainted with Rome;
the churches and the cloisters of S. Saba on the Aventine,
of SS. Quattro Coronati on the Cælian, of S. Giovanni a
Porta Latina, of SS. Vincenzo e Anastasio alle Tre Fontane,
of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura, are excellent specimens
of mediæval architecture. Let students, archæologists,
and architects provide themselves with a chronological
table of our sacred buildings, and select the best specimens
for every quarter of a century, beginning with the
oratory of Aquila and Prisca, mentioned in the Epistles,
and ending with the latest contemporary creations; they
cannot find a better subject for their education in art and
history.

From the point of view of their origin and structure, the
churches of Rome of the first six centuries may be divided
into six classes:—

I. Rooms of private houses where the first prayer-meetings
were held.

109II. Scholæ (memorial or banqueting halls in public cemeteries),
transformed into places of worship.

III. Oratories and churches built over the tombs of
martyrs and confessors.

IV. Houses of confessors and martyrs.

V. Pagan monuments, especially temples, converted into
churches.

VI. Memorials of historical events.

In treating this subject we must bear in mind that early
Christian edifices in Rome were never named from a titular
saint, but from their founder, or from the owner of the
property on which they were established. The same rule
applies to the suburban cemeteries, which were always
named from the owner of the ground above them, not from
the martyrs buried within. The statement is simple; but
we are so accustomed to calling the Lateran basilica “S.
Giovanni,” or the oratory of Pudens “S. Pudentiana,”
that their original names (Basilica Salvatoris, and Ecclesia
Pudentiana) have almost fallen into oblivion.

I shall select from each of the six classes such specimens
as I believe will convey an impression of its type to the
mind of the reader.

I. Private Oratories. “In the familiar record of the
first days of the Christian church we read how the men
of Galilee, who returned to Jerusalem after the ascension,
‘went up into the upper chamber,’ which was at once their
dwelling-place and their house of prayer and of assembly.
There, at the first common meal, the bread was broken and
the cup passed around in remembrance of the last occasion
on which they had sat at table with Christ. There too
they assembled for their first act of church government, the
election of a successor to the apostate Judas. All is simple110
and domestic, yet we have here the beginnings of what
became in time the most wide-reaching and highly organized
of human systems. An elaborate hierarchy, a complicated
theology were to arise out of the informal conclave,
the memorial meal; and in like manner, out of the homely
meeting-place of the disciples would be developed the costly
and beautiful forms of the Christian temple.”[61]

Rome possesses authentic remains of the “houses of
prayer” in which the gospel was first announced in apostolic
times. Five names are mentioned in connection with
the visit of Peter and Paul to the capital of the empire, and
two houses are mentioned as those in which they found
hospitality, and were able to preach the new doctrine. One
of these, belonging to Pudens and his daughters Pudentiana
and Praxedes, stands halfway up the Vicus Patricius (Via
del Bambin Gesù) on the southern slope of the Viminal; the
other, belonging to Aquila and Prisca (or Priscilla), on the
spur of the Aventine which overlooks the Circus Maximus.
Both have been represented through the course of centuries,
and are represented now, by a church, named from
the owner the Titulus Pudentis, and the Titulus Priscæ.
Archæologists have tried to trace the genealogy of Pudens,
the friend of the apostles; but, although it seems probable
that he belonged to the noble race of the Cornelii Æmilii,
the fact has not yet been clearly proved. Equally doubtful
are the origin and social condition of Aquila and his
wife Prisca, whose names appear both in the Acts and in
the Epistles. We know from these documents that, in
consequence of the decree of banishment which was issued
against the Jews by the emperor Claudius, Aquila and
Prisca were compelled to leave Rome for a while, and that111
on their return they were able to open a small oratory—ecclesiam
domesticam—in their house. This oratory, one
of the first opened to divine worship in Rome, these walls
which, in all probability, have echoed with the sound of S.
Peter’s voice, were discovered in 1776 close to the modern
church of S. Prisca; but no attention was paid to the discovery,
in spite of its unrivalled importance. The only
memorandum of it is a scrap of paper in Codex 9697 of
the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, in which a man named
Carrara speaks of having found a subterranean chapel near
S. Prisca, decorated with paintings of the fourth century,
representing the apostles. A copy of the frescoes seems to
have been made at the time, but no trace of it has been
found. I cannot understand how, in an age like ours, so
enthusiastically devoted to archæological, historical, and
religious research, no attempt has since been made to bring
this venerable oratory to light.

In the same excavations of 1776 was found a bronze
tablet, which had been offered to Gaius Marius Pudens
Cornelianus, by the people of Clunia (near Palencia, Spain)
as a token of gratitude for the services which he had rendered
them during his governorship of the province of
Tarragona. The tablet, dated April 9, a. d. 222, proves
that the house owned by Aquila and Prisca in apostolic
times had subsequently passed into the hands of a Cornelius
Pudens; in other words, that the relations formed
between the two families during the sojourn of the apostles
in Rome had been faithfully maintained by their descendants.
Their intimate connection is also proved by the fact
that Pudens, Pudentiana, Praxedes, and Prisca were all
buried in the Cemetery of Priscilla on the Via Salaria.[62]

112A very old tradition, confirmed by the “Liber Pontificalis,”
describes the modern church of S. Pudentiana as having
been once the private house of the same Pudens who
was baptized by the apostles, and who is mentioned in the
epistles of S. Paul.[63] Here the first converts met for prayers;
here Pudentiana, Praxedes and Timotheus, daughters and
son of Pudens, obtained from Pius I. the institution of a
regular parish-assembly (titulus), provided with a baptismal
font; and here, for a long time, were preserved some pieces
of household furniture which had been used by S. Peter.
The tradition deserves attention because it was openly accepted
at the beginning of the fourth century. The name
of the church at that time was simply Ecclesia Pudentiana,
which means “the church of Pudens,” its owner and founder.
An inscription discovered by Lelio Pasqualini speaks of a
Leopardus, lector de Pudentiana, in the year 384; and in
the mosaic of the apse the Redeemer holds a book, on the
open page of which is written: “The Lord, defender of
the church of Pudens.” In course of time the ignorant
people changed the word Pudentiana, a possessive adjective,
into the name of a saint; and the name Sancta Pudentiana
usurped the place of the genuine one. It appears for the
first time in a document of the year 745.

The connection of the house with the apostolate of SS.
Peter and Paul made it very popular from the beginning.
Laymen and clergymen alike contributed to transform it
into a handsome church. Pope Siricius (384-397), his
acolytes Leopardus, Maximus and Ilicius, and Valerius Messalla,
prefect of the city (396-403), ornamented it with
mosaics, colonnades, and marble screens, and built on the113
west side of the Vicus Patricius a portico more than a
thousand feet long, which led from the Subura to the vestibule
of the church.

In 1588 Cardinal Enrico Caetani disfigured the building
with unfortunate restorations. He laid his hands even on
the mosaics of the apse, considered by Poussin the best in
Rome, as they are the oldest (a. d. 398), and mutilated the
figures of two apostles, a portion of the foreground and
the historical inscription. His architect, Francesco Ricciarelli
da Volterra, while excavating the foundations for
one of the pilasters of the new dome, made a discovery,
which is described by Gaspare Celio[64] in the following
words:—

“While Francesco Volterra was restoring the church of
S. Pudentiana, and building the foundations of the dome,
the masons discovered a marble group of the Laocoön,
broken into many pieces. Whether from ill will or from
laziness, they left the beautiful work of art at the bottom
of the trench, and brought to the surface only a leg, without
the foot, and a wrist. It was given to me, and I used
to show it with pride to my artist friends, until some one
stole it. It was a replica of the Belvedere group, considerably
larger, and so beautiful that many believe it to be the
original described by Pliny (xxvi. 5). The ancients, like
the moderns, were fond of reproducing masterpieces. If the
replica of the Pietà of Michelangelo, which we admire in
the church of S. Maria dell’ Anima, had been found under
the ground, would we not consider it a better work than
the original in S. Peter’s? Francesco Volterra complained
to me many times about the slovenliness of the masons; he
says that, working by contract (a cottimo), they were afraid114
they should get no reward for the trouble of bringing the
group to the surface.”

Remains of the House of Pudens, discovered in 1870.

Remains of the house of Pudens were found in 1870.
They occupy a considerable area
under the neighboring houses.[65]

Plan of Pompeian House.

The theory accepted by some modern
writers as regards the transformation
of these halls of prayer
into regular churches is this. The
prayer-meetings were held in the
tablinum (A) or reception room of
the house, which, as shown in the
accompanying plan, opened on the
atrium or court (B), and this was
surrounded by a portico or peristyle
(C). In the early days of the gospel
the tablinum could easily accommodate
the small congregation of converts; but, as this115
increased in numbers and the space became inadequate, the
faithful were compelled to occupy that section of the portico
which was in front of the meeting hall. When the
congregation became still larger, there was no other way of
accommodating it, and sheltering it from rain or sun, than
by covering the court either with an awning or a roof.
There is very little difference between this arrangement and
the plan of a Christian basilica. The tablinum becomes an
apse; the court, roofed over, becomes the nave; the side
wings of the peristyle become the aisles.

116Among the Roman churches whose origin can be traced
to the hall of meeting, besides those of Pudens and Prisca
already mentioned, the best preserved seems to be that built
by Demetrias at the third milestone of the Via Latina, near
the “painted tombs.” Demetrias, daughter of Anicius
Hermogenianus, prefect of the city, 368-370, and of Tyrrania
Juliana, a friend of Augustine and Jerome, enlarged
the oratory already existing in the tablinum of the Anician
villa, and transformed it into a beautiful church, afterwards
dedicated to S. Lorenzo. Church and villa were
discovered in 1857, and, together with the painted tombs
of the Via Latina, are now the property of the nation.
The stranger could not find a pleasanter afternoon drive.
The church is well preserved, and still contains the metric
inscription in praise of Demetrias which was composed by
Leo III. (795-816).[66]

Remains of the House of Pudens. Front Waal, pierced by modern windows.

II. Scholæ. The laws of Rome were very strict in
regard to associations, which, formed on the pretence of
amusement, charity, or athletic sports, were apt to degenerate
into political sects. Exception was made in favor of the
collegia funeraticia, which were societies formed to provide
a decent funeral and place of burial for their members. An
inscription discovered at Civita Lavinia quotes the very
words of a decree of the Senate on this subject: “It is permitted
to those who desire to make a monthly contribution
for funeral expenses to form an association.” “These
clubs or colleges collected their subscriptions in a treasure-chest,
and out of it provided for the obsequies of deceased
members. Funeral ceremonies did not cease when the
body or the ashes was laid in the sepulchre. It was the117
custom to celebrate on the occasion a feast, and to repeat
that feast year by year on the birthday of the dead, and on
other stated days. For the holding of these feasts, as well
as for other meetings, special buildings were erected, named
scholæ; and when the societies received gifts from rich
members or patrons, the benefaction frequently took the
shape of a new lodge-room, or of a ground for a new cemetery,
with a building for meetings.”[67] The Christians took
advantage of the freedom accorded to funeral colleges, and
associated themselves for the same purpose, following as
closely as possible their rules concerning contributions, the
erection of lodges, the meetings, and the αγαπαι or love
feasts; and it was largely through the adoption of these
well-understood and respected customs that they were
enabled to hold their meetings and keep together as a corporate
body through the stormy times of the second and
third centuries.

Two excellent specimens of scholæ connected with Christian
cemeteries and with meetings of the faithful have
come down to us, one above the Catacombs of Callixtus,
the other above those of Soter.

The first edifice has the shape of a square hall with three
apses,—cella trichora. It is built over the part of the
catacombs which was excavated at the time of Pope Fabianus
(a. d. 236-250), who is known to have raised multas
fabricas per cæmeteria; it is probably his work, as the
style of masonry is exactly that of the first half of the
third century. The original schola was covered by a
wooden roof, and had no façade or door. In the year 258,
while Sixtus II., attended by his deacons Felicissimus and
Agapetus, was presiding over a meeting at this place in
spite of the prohibition of Valerian, a body of men invaded118
the schola, murdered the bishop and his acolytes, and razed
the building nearly to the level of the ground. Half a
century later, in the time of Constantine, it was restored to
its original shape, with the addition of a vaulted roof and a
façade. The line which separates the old foundations of
Fabianus from the restorations of the age of peace is clearly
visible. Later the schola was changed into a church and
dedicated to the memory of Syxtus, who had lost his wife
there, and of Cæcilia, who was buried in the crypt below.
It became a great place of pilgrimage, and the itineraries
mention it as one of the leading stations on the Appian
Way.

When de Rossi first visited the place, fifty years ago,
this famous schola or church of Syxtus and Cæcilia was
used as a wine-cellar, while the crypts of Cæcilia and Cornelius
were used as vaults. Thanks to his initiative the
monument has again become the property of the Church of
Rome; and after a lapse of ten or twelve centuries divine
service was resumed in it on the twentieth day of April of
the present year. Its walls have been covered with inscriptions
found in the adjoining cemetery.

The theory suggested by modern writers with regard to
the scholæ is very much the same as that concerning the
tablinum of private houses. At first the small building
was sufficient to meet the wants of a small congregation;
with the increase of the members it became a presbiterium,
or place reserved for the bishop or the clergy, while the
audience stood outside, under the shelter of a tent, or a
roof supported by upright beams. Here also we have all
the architectural elements of the Christian basilica.

PLAN OF SCHOLA ABOVE THE CATACOMBS OF CALLIXTUS
(From Nortet’s Les Catacombes Romaines)

The name schola, in its original meaning, has never died
out in Rome; and as in the Middle Ages we had the
scholæ of the Saxons, the Greeks, the Frisians, and the119
Lombards, so we have in the present day those of the Jews
(gli scoli degli ebrei).

III. Oratories and churches built over the tombs
of martyrs and confessors. The sacred buildings of
this class are, or were formerly, outside the walls, as burial
was not allowed within city limits. To explain their origin
and to understand their significance we must bear in mind
the following rules. The action of the Roman law towards
the Christians, that is, towards persons accused of atheism
and rebellion against the Empire, resulted in the execution
of those who were convicted. Except in extraordinary
cases, the body of the victim could be claimed by relatives
and friends and buried with due honors. In chapters vi.
and vii. instances will be quoted of the erection of imposing
tombs to the memory of Roman patricians, generals
and magistrates, who were put to death under the imperial
régime. The same privileges of burial were granted to the
Christians, who preferred, however, the modesty and safety
of a grave in the heart of the catacombs to the pompous
luxury of a mausoleum above ground. The grave of a
martyr was an object of consideration, and was often visited
by pilgrims, who adorned it with wreaths and lights on the
anniversary of his execution. After the end of the persecutions
the first thought of the victorious church was to
honor the memory of those who had fought so gallantly for
the common cause, and who at the sacrifice of their lives
had hastened the advent of the days of freedom and peace.
No better altar than those graves could be chosen for the
celebration of divine service; but they were sunk deep in
the ground, and the cubicula of the catacombs were hardly
capable of containing the officiating clergy, much less the
multitudes of the faithful. Touching the graves, removing120
them to a more suitable place, was out of the question;
in the eyes of the early Christians no more impious sacrilege
could be perpetrated. There was but one way left to
deal with the difficulty; that of cutting away the rock over
and around the grave, and thereby gaining such space as
was deemed sufficient for the erection of a basilica. The
excavation was done in conformity with two rules,—that
the tomb of the martyr should occupy the place of honor
in the middle of the apse, and that the body of the church
should be to the east of the tomb, except in cases of “force
majeure,” as when a river, a public road, or some other
such obstacle made it necessary to vary this principle.

Such is the origin of the greatest sanctuaries of Christian
Rome. The churches of S. Peter on the Via Cornelia,
S. Paul on the Via Ostiensis, S. Sebastian on the Via Appia,
S. Petronilla on the Via Ardeatina, S. Valentine on the
Via Flaminia, S. Hermes on the Via Salaria, S. Agnes on
the Via Nomentana, S. Lorenzo on the Via Tiburtina, and
fifty other historical structures, owe their existence to the
humble grave which no human hand was allowed to transfer
to a more suitable and healthy place.

When these graves were not very deep, the floor of the
basilica was almost level with the ground, as in the case of
S. Peter’s, S. Paul’s, and S. Valentine’s; in other cases it
was sunk so deep in the heart of the hill that only the roof
and the upper tier of windows were seen above the ground,
as in the basilicas of S. Lorenzo, S. Petronilla, etc. There
are two or three basilicas built, or rather excavated, entirely
under ground. The best specimen is that of S. Hermes on
the old Via Salaria.

It soon became evident that edifices sunk in such awkward
places could hardly answer their purpose, on account
of dampness and the want of air and light. Several steps121
were taken to remedy the evil. Large portions of the
hills were cut away so as to make the edifice free on one
or two sides at least, and outlets for rain or spring water
provided. We have a description of the system of drainage
of S. Peter’s, written by its originator, Pope Damasus, in a
poem the original of which, discovered by Pope Paul V.,
in 1607, is preserved in the Grotte Vaticane:—

“The hill was abundant in springs; and the water found
its way to the very graves of the saints. Pope Damasus
determined to check the evil. He caused a large portion
of the Vatican Hill to be cut away; and by excavating
channels and boring cuniculi he drained the springs so as
to make the basilica dry and also to provide it with a steady
fountain of excellent water.”[68]

The Acqua Damasiana is still in use, and has the honor of
supplying the apartments of the Pope. Its feeding-springs
are located at S. Antonino, twelve hundred yards west of
S. Peter’s. The aqueduct of Damasus, restored in 1649 by
Innocent X., is neatly built in the old Roman style; the
channel is four feet nine inches high, three feet three
inches wide, and runs through the clay of the hill at a
depth of ninety-eight feet. The principal fountain, in the
Cortile di S. Damaso, was designed by Algardi in 1649.

Apparently the works accomplished for the same purpose
at S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura, by Pope Pelagius II.
(579-590), were no less important. They are described in
another poem, a modern copy of which (1860) is to be seen
on the side of the mosaic in the apsidal arch. The poem
relates how the hill of Cyriaca was cut away, and how, in
consequence of the excavation, the church became light,122
accessible, and free from the danger of landslips and inundations.
The importance of the work of Pelagius is rather
exaggerated by the composer of the poem. The church
was never free from dampness and want of air and light
until the pontificate of Pius IX., who cut away another
section of the hill.

The damage done to the catacombs by the builders of
these sunken basilicas is incalculable. Thousands of graves
must have been sacrificed for the embellishment of one.

The reader cannot expect to find in these pages a description
of this class of basilicas; that of S. Peter’s alone
would require several volumes. I have in my modest
library not less than twenty-two volumes on the subject, an
insignificant fraction of the Petrine literature. And what
do we know about S. Peter’s? Very little in comparison
with the amount of knowledge that lies yet unpublished in
the volumes of Grimaldi,[69] in the archives of the Vatican,
in epigraphic, historical and diplomatic documents scattered
among various European libraries.

The history of the building has yet to be written.
Duchesne’s “Liber Pontificalis” and de Rossi’s second volume
of the “Inscriptiones Christianæ” provide the necessary
foundations for such a work. Let us hope that the
Vatican will soon find its own Rohault de Fleury.[70]

The following sketch of the origin of the two leading
sacred edifices of Rome may answer the scope of the present
chapter. But let me repeat once again the declaration
that I write about the monuments of ancient Rome123
from a strictly archæological point of view, avoiding questions
which pertain, or are supposed to pertain, to religious
controversy. For the archæologist the presence and execution
of SS. Peter and Paul in Rome are facts established
beyond a shadow of doubt by purely monumental evidence.
There was a time when persons belonging to different
creeds made it almost a case of conscience to affirm
or deny a priori those facts, according to their acceptance
or rejection of the tradition of any particular church.
This state of feeling is a matter of the past, at least for
those who have followed the progress of recent discoveries
and of critical literature. However, if my readers think
that I am assuming as proved what they still consider subject
for discussion, I beg to refer them to some of the
standard works published on this subject by writers who
are above the suspicion of partiality. Such are Döllinger’s
“First Age of Christianity” (translated by Henry
Nutcombe Oxenham, second edition, London, Allen, 1867);
Bishop Lightfoot’s “Apostolic Fathers,” part ii., London,
Macmillan, 1885, one of the most beautiful and conclusive
works on early Christian history and literature; and de
Rossi’s “Bullettino di archeologia cristiana,” for 1877.
Bishop Lightfoot justly remarks that when Ignatius—the
second apostolic father, a contemporary of Trajan—writes
to the Romans “I do not command you, like Peter and
Paul,” the words are full of meaning, if we suppose him to
be alluding to the personal relations of the two apostles
with the Roman Church. In fact, the reason for his use
of this language is the recognition of the visit to Rome
of S. Peter as well as S. Paul, which is persistently maintained
in early tradition; and thus it is a parallel to the
joint mention of the two apostles in “Clement of Rome”
(p. 357). Döllinger adds: “That S. Peter worked in124
Rome is a fact so abundantly proved and so deeply imbedded
in the earliest Christian history, that whoever treats
it as a legend ought in consistency to treat the whole of
the earliest church history as legendary, or at least, quite
uncertain. His presence in Corinth is obviously connected
with his journey to Rome, and no one will accept the one
and deny the other (see Cor. i. 12; iii. 22; xi. 22, 23;
Clement’s Ep. 47, etc.) Clement again reminds the Corinthians
of the ‘martyrdom of Peter and Paul … among
us,’ meaning Rome. The very mention implies that S.
Peter’s martyrdom was a well-known fact, and it is inconceivable
that his execution should have been known and
not the place where it occurred, or that the place could
have been forgotten, and a wrong one substituted some
years later. And when Ignatius writes to the Romans—’I
do not command you like Peter and Paul; they were
apostles’—it is clear, without any explanation, that he
desires to remind them of the two men who, as founders
and teachers, had been the glory of the Church.”

The Ebionite document, called “The Preaching of Peter,”
produced about the time of Ignatius, or very soon after,
and used by Heracleon in Hadrian’s time, is manifestly
founded on the undisputed fact of S. Peter having labored
at Rome. It is inconceivable that the author of the Ebionite
document should have put forward a groundless fable, about
the theatre of S. Peter’s operations, at a time when many
who had seen him must have been still alive. Eusebius,
who had the writings of Papias (and Hegesippos) before
him, maintains with Clement, that S. Peter wrote his Epistle
at Rome (Euseb. ii. 15). Papias, a disciple of S. John,
speaking of this epistle declares that “Babylon” means
expressly the capital of the empire. Hegesippos, a Christian
Jew of Palestine, who came to Rome in the first half125
of the second century, makes Linus the first bishop after
the apostles, in accordance with Irenæus, who says: “After
Peter and Paul had founded the Roman church and set it in
order, they gave over the episcopate to Linus.” If we consider
that Hegesippos came to Rome to investigate, among
other things, the succession of local bishops for the short
period of eighty-three years, that he certainly spoke with
persons whose fathers could remember the presence of the
apostles, we cannot help accepting his evidence as conclusive.

The main objection brought forward by the opponents
is that, after the incident at Antioch, we have no positive
knowledge of the actions and travels of S. Peter. Still,
there is nothing to contradict the assumption of his journey
to Rome, and his confession and execution there. The fact
was so generally known that nobody took the trouble to
write a precise statement of it, because nobody dreamed
that it could be denied. How is it possible to imagine that
the primitive Church did not know the place of the death
of its two leading apostles? In default of written testimony
let us consult monumental evidence.

There is no event of the imperial age and of imperial
Rome which is attested by so many noble structures, all of
which point to the same conclusion,—the presence and execution
of the apostles in the capital of the empire. When
Constantine raised the monumental basilicas over their
tombs on the Via Cornelia and the Via Ostiensis; when
Eudoxia built the church ad Vincula; when Damasus put
a memorial tablet in the Platonia ad Catacumbas; when
the houses of Pudens and Aquila and Prisca were turned
into oratories; when the name of Nymphæ Sancti Petri
was given to the springs in the catacombs of the Via
Nomentana; when the twenty-ninth day of June was accepted126
as the anniversary of S. Peter’s execution; when
Christians and pagans alike named their children Peter and
Paul; when sculptors, painters, medallists, goldsmiths,
workers in glass and enamel, and engravers of precious
stones, all began to reproduce in Rome the likenesses of
the apostles, at the beginning of the second century, and
continued to do so till the fall of the empire; must we
consider them all as laboring under a delusion, or as conspiring
in the commission of a gigantic fraud? Why were
such proceedings accepted without protest from whatever
city, from whatever community, if there were any other
which claimed to own the genuine tombs of SS. Peter and
Paul? These arguments gain more value from the fact that
the evidence on the opposite side is purely negative. It is
one thing to write of these controversies at a distance from
the scene of the events, in the seclusion of one’s own
library; but quite another to study them on the spot, and
to follow the events where they took place. If my readers
had the opportunity of witnessing the discoveries made
lately in the Cemeterium Ostrianum, and the Platonia ad
Catacumbas; or of examining Grimaldi’s manuscripts and
drawings relating to the old basilica of Constantine; or
Carrara’s account of the discoveries made in 1776 in the
house of Aquila and Prisca, they would surely banish from
their minds the last shade of doubt.

Besides the works of Döllinger, Lightfoot, and de Rossi
referred to above, there are thirty or forty which deal with
the same question, as to whether S. Peter was ever at Rome.
The list of them is given in volume xviii. of the “Encyclopædia
Britannica,” p. 696, no. 1.

Two roads issued from the bridge called Vaticanus,
Neronianus, or Triumphalis, the remains of which are127
still seen at low water between S. Giovanni dei Fiorentini
and the hospital of S. Spirito,—the Via Triumphalis, described
in chapter vi., which corresponds to the modern
Strada di Monte Mario, and joins the Clodia at la Giustiniana;
and the Via Cornelia, which led to the woodlands
west of the city, between the Via Aurelia Nova and the
Triumphalis. When the apostles came to Rome, in the
reign of Nero, the topography of the Vatican district, which
was crossed by the Via Cornelia, was as follows:—

On the left of the road was a circus begun by Caligula,
and finished by Nero; on the right a line of tombs built
against the clay cliffs of the Vatican. The circus was the
scene of the first sufferings of the Christians, described by
Tacitus in the well-known passage of the “Annals,” xv. 45.
Some of the Christians were covered with the skins of wild
beasts so that savage dogs might tear them to pieces; others
were besmeared with tar and tallow, and burnt at the stake;
others were crucified (crucibus adfixi), while Nero in the
attire of a vulgar auriga ran his races around the goals.
This took place a. d. 65. Two years later the leader of
the Christians shared the same fate in the same place. He
was affixed to a cross like the others, and we know exactly
where. A tradition current in Rome from time immemorial
says that S. Peter was executed inter duas metas (between
the two metæ), that is, in the spina or middle line of Nero’s
circus, at an equal distance from the two end goals; in
other words, he was executed at the foot of the obelisk
which now towers in front of his great church. For many
centuries after the peace of Constantine, the exact spot of
S. Peter’s execution was marked by a chapel called the
chapel of the “Crucifixion.” The meaning of the name,
and its origin, as well as the topographical details connected
with the event, were lost in the darkness of the128
Middle Ages. The memorial chapel lost its identity and
was believed to belong to “Him who was crucified,” that
is, to Christ himself. It disappeared seven or eight centuries
ago. At the same time the words inter duas metas,
by which the spot was so exactly located, were deprived of
their genuine significance. The name meta was generally
applied to tombs of pyramidal shape; of which two were
still conspicuous among the ruins of Rome: the pyramid of
Caius Cestius near the Porta S. Paolo, which was called
Meta Remi, and that by the church of S. Maria Traspontina,
in the quarter of the Vatican which was called
Meta Romuli. The consequences of this mistake were
remarkable; to it we owe the erection of two noble monuments,
the church of S. Pietro in Montorio, and the “Tempietto
del Bramante,” in the court of the adjoining convent.
It seems that in the thirteenth century, when some
one[71] determined to raise a memorial of S. Peter’s execution
inter duas metas, he chose this spot on the spur of the
Janiculum, because it was located at an equal distance from
the meta of Romulus at la Traspontina, and that of Remus
at the Porta S. Paolo!

PLAN OF OLD S. PETER’S, SHOWING ITS RELATION TO THE CIRCUS OF NERO

The line of the Via Cornelia, which ran parallel with the
north side of the circus, can be traced with precision by the
help of the classical, or pagan, tombs discovered at various
times along its borders. Let us start from the site of the
modern Piazza di S. Pietro. Sante Bartoli, mem. 56-57,
says that while Pope Alexander VII. was building the left
wing of Bernini’s portico, and the fountain of the southern
semicircle, a tomb was discovered with a bas-relief above the
door representing a marriage-scene (“vi era un bellissimo129
bassorilievo di un matrimonio antico”). On July 19, 1614,
three others were found in the atrium, in one of which was
the sarcophagus of Claudia Hermione, the renowned pantomimist.
The best discovery, that of pagan tombs exactly
on the line with that of S. Peter’s, was made in the presence
of Grimaldi, November 9, 1616. “On that day,” he says,
“I entered a square sepulchral room (10 ft. × 11 ft.), the
ceiling of which was ornamented with designs in painted
stucco. There was a medallion in the centre, with a figure
in high relief. The door opened on the Via Cornelia, which
was on the same level. This tomb is located under the
seventh step in front of the middle door of the church. I
am told that the sarcophagus now used as a fountain, in
the court of the Swiss Guards, was discovered at the time
of Gregory XIII. in the same place, and that it contained
the body of a pagan.”

We come now to the decisive point, the discoveries made
in the time of Urban VIII., when the foundations of his
bronze baldacchino were sunk to a great depth, in close
proximity to the tomb of S. Peter. The genuineness of the
account is proved by the fact that in spite of its great bearing
on the question, so little importance was attached to it
that, had not Professor Palmieri and Cavaliere Armellini
unearthed it from the sacred dust of the Vatican archives,
in which it had been buried for three and a half centuries,
we should still have been wholly ignorant of its existence.

The account published by Armellini[72] proves that S.
Peter must have been buried in a small plot surrounded by
other tombs, and probably protected by an enclosing wall.
There were graves which in later ages had been dug in confusion,
one above the other, by persons wishing to lie as
near as possible to the remains of the apostle; but those of130
the time of the persecution were arranged in parallel lines,[73]
and consisted of plain marble coffins bearing no name, and
containing one or two bodies, which were dressed like
mummies, with bands of darkish linen wound about the
body and head. This statement is corroborated by other
evidence. In 1615, when Paul V. built the stairs leading
to the Confession and the crypts, “several bodies were
found lying in coffins, tied with linen bands, as we read of
Lazarus in the Gospel: ligatus pedibus et manibus institis.
One body only was attired in a sort of pontifical
robe. Notwithstanding the absence of written indications
we thought they were the graves of the ten bishops of
Rome buried in Vaticano.” So speaks Giovanni Severano
on page 20 of his book “Memorie sacre delle sette chiese
di Roma,” which was printed in 1629. Francesco Maria
Torrigio, who witnessed the exhumations with cardinal
Evangelista Pallotta, adds that the linen bands were from
two to three inches wide, and that they must have been
soaked in aromatics. One of the coffins bore, however, the
name LINVS.[74] Let us now refer to the “Liber Pontificalis,”
the authority of which as an historical text-book cannot be
doubted, since the critical publication of Louis Duchesne.[75]
After describing the “deposition of S. Peter in the Vatican,
near the circus of Nero, between the Via Aurelia and the
Via Triumphalis, iuxta locum ubi crucifixus est (near the
place of his crucifixion),” it proceeds to say that Linus
“was buried side by side with the remains of the blessed
Peter, in the Vatican, October 24.” Even if we were disposed
to doubt Torrigio’s correctness in copying the name131
of the second bishop of Rome,[76] the fact of his burial in this
place seems to be certain, because Hrabanus Maurus, a
poet of the ninth century, speaks of Linus’s tomb as visible
and accessible, in the year 822. Another man was present
at the discoveries enumerated by Torrigio and Severano;
the master-mason Benedetto Drei, whose drawing, printed
in 1635, has become very rare.

The reader will remark how perfectly Drei’s sketch fits
the written accounts of the other eye-witnesses, even in the
detail of the child’s grave—”sepoltura di un bambino,”—which
is distinctly mentioned by them.

The privileges which the Roman law allowed to sepulchres,
even of criminals, made it possible for the Christians
to keep these graves in good order, with impunity. However,
they ran a great risk under Elagabalus. Among the
many extravagances in which this youth indulged in connection
with the circus, such as driving a chariot drawn by
four camels, or letting loose thousands of poisonous snakes
among the spectators, Lampridius mentions a race of four
quadrigæ drawn by elephants, which was to be run in the
Vatican; and as the track inside the circus was obviously
too narrow for such an attempt, another was prepared outside
by removing or destroying those tombs of the Via
Cornelia which stood in the way.[77] It is more than probable
that the body of S. Peter was at that time transferred to a
temporary place of shelter at the third milestone of the Via
Appia, which I shall have opportunity to describe in the
seventh chapter.[78]

132After the defeat of Maxentius in the plains of Torre di
Quinto, Constantine “raised a basilica over the tomb of the
blessed Peter, which he enclosed in a bronze case. The
altar above was decorated with spiral columns carved with
vines which he had brought over from Greece.”[79]

The basilica was erected hurriedly at the expense of the
adjoining circus. Constantine took advantage of its three
northern walls, which supported the seats of the spectators
on the side of the Via Cornelia, to rest upon them the left
wing of the church, and built new foundations for the right
wing only. His architect seems to have been rather negligent
in his measurements, because the tomb of S. Peter did
not correspond exactly with the axis of the nave, and was
not in the centre of the apse, being some inches to the left.

The columns were collected from everywhere. I have
discovered in one of the note-books of Antonio da Sangallo
the younger a memorandum of the quality, quantity, size,
color, etc., of one hundred and thirty-six shafts. Nearly
all the ancient quarries are represented in the collection, not
to speak of styles and ages. An exception must be made
in favor of the twelve columns of the Confession, mentioned
above, which, according to the “Liber Pontificalis,”
were brought over from Greece (columnæ vitineæ quas de
Græcia perduxit: i. 176). I doubt the correctness of the
statement; they appear to me a fantastic Roman work of
the third century.

PLAN OF THE GRAVES SURROUNDING THAT OF S. PETER DISCOVERED AT THE TIME OF PAUL V.
(From a rare engraving by Benedetto Drei, head master mason to the Pope. The site of the
tomb of S. Peter and the Fenestella are indicated by the author)

The Colonna Santa.

At all events the surmise of the “Liber Pontificalis” shows
how little credit is to be attached to the tradition that they
once belonged to the Temple of Solomon at Jerusalem.[80]133
There are eleven left: of which eight ornament the balconies
under the dome; two, the altar of S. Mauritius, and one
(reproduced in our illustration) the Cappella della Pietà,
the first on the right. It is
called the colonna santa (the
holy column), because it was
formerly used for the exorcism
of evil spirits. It was
enclosed in a marble pluteus
by Cardinal Orsini, in 1438.

The walls of the church
were patched with fragments
of tiles (tegolozza) and stone,
except the apse and the
arches, which were built of
good bricks bearing the
name of the emperor:—

Dominus Noster CONSTANTINVS
AVGustus.

Grimaldi says that he could
not find two capitals or two
bases alike. He says also
that the architraves and
friezes differed from one intercolumniation
to another,
and that some of them were
inscribed with the names and
praises of Titus, Trajan, Gallienus,
and others. On each side of the first gateway, at
the foot of the steps, were two granite columns, with composite
capitals, representing the bust of the emperor Hadrian
framed in acanthus leaves.

The accompanying illustration, which was copied from134
an engraving of Ciampini, shows the aspect of the interior
in the year 1588.

It gives a fairly good idea of the decorations of the nave,
in their general outline; but fails to show the details of
Constantine’s patchwork. His system of structure may be
better understood by referring to another of his creations,
the basilica of S. Lorenzo fuori le Mura, of which a section
of the interior is illustrated on p. 135.

The atrium or quadri-portico was entered by three gateways,
the middle one of which had doors of bronze inlaid
with silver. The nielli represented castles, cities, and territories
which were subject to the apostolic see. The doors
were stolen in 1167, and carried to Viterbo as trophies of
war.

View of a section of the Nave of old S. Peter’s (South Side).

The fountain in the centre of the atrium was a masterpiece135
of the time of Symmachus (498-514), who had a
great predilection for buildings connected with hygiene and
cleanliness, such as baths, fountains, and necessaria.[81] The
fountain is described in my “Ancient Rome,” p. 286; let
me add here the particulars concerning its destruction.

Nave of San Lorenzo fuori le Mura.

The structure was composed of a square tabernacle supported
by eight columns of red porphyry, with a dome of
gilt bronze. Peacocks, dolphins, and flowers, also of gilt
bronze, were placed on the four architraves, from which
jets of water flowed into the basin below. The border of
the basin was made of ancient marble bas-reliefs, representing136
panoplies, griffins, etc. On the top of the structure
were semicircular bronze ornaments worked “à jour,” that
is, in open relief, without background, and crowned by the monogram
of Christ. This gem of the art of the
sixth century was ruthlessly destroyed by Paul V.
The eight columns of porphyry, one of which was ornamented
with an imperial bust in high relief, have disappeared,
and so have the bas-reliefs of the border
of the fountain, although Grimaldi claims to have
saved one. The bronzes were removed to the garden of
the Vatican, but, with the exception of the pine-cone and
two peacocks, they were doomed to share the fate of the
marbles. In 1613 the semicircular pediments, the four dolphins,
two of the peacocks, and the dome were melted to
provide the ten thousand pounds of metal required for the
casting of the statue of the Madonna which was placed
by Paul V. on the column of S. Maria Maggiore.

The Fountain of Symmachus.

The most important monument of the atrium, after the
fountain, was the tomb of the emperor Otho II. († 983),
or what was believed to be his tomb, as some contemporary
writers attribute it to Cencio, prefect of Rome, who died
1077. The body lay in a marble sarcophagus, which was
screened by slabs of serpentine, the whole being surmounted
by a porphyry cover supposed to have come from Hadrian’s137
mausoleum. The mosaic picture above represented the
Saviour between SS. Peter and Paul. This historical monument
was demolished by Carlo Maderno in the night of
October 20, 1610. The coffin was removed to the Quirinal
and turned into a water-trough. Grimaldi saw it last, near
the entrance gate from the side of the Via dei Maroniti.
The panels of serpentine were used in the new building, the
picture of the Saviour was removed to the Grotte; the cover
of porphyry was turned upside down, and made into a baptismal
font.

The church was entered by five doors, named respectively
(from left to right) the Porta Iudicii, Ravenniana,
argentea or regia maior, Romana, and Guidonea. The
first was called the “Judgment Door,” because funerals entered
or passed out through it. The name “Ravenniana”
seems to have originated in the barracks of marine infantry
of the fleet of Ravenna, detailed for duty in Rome, or else
from the name “Civitas Ravenniana” given to the Trastevere
in the epoch of the decadence. It was reserved for the
use of men, as the fourth or Romana was for women, and
the fifth, Guidonea, for tourists and pilgrims. The main
entrance, called the “Royal,” or “Silver Door,” was opened
only on grand occasions. Its name was derived from the
silver ornaments affixed to the bronze by Honorius I. (a. d.
626-636) in commemoration of the reunion of the church
of Histria with the See of Rome. According to the “Liber
Pontificalis” nine hundred and seventy-five pounds of silver
were used in the work. There were the figures of S. Peter
on the left and S. Paul on the right, surrounded by halos
of precious stones. They were the prey of the Saracens in
845. Leo IV. restored them to a certain extent, changing
the subject of the silver nielli. In the year 1437, Antonio
di Michele da Viterbo, a Dominican lay brother, was commissioned138
by Pope Eugenius IV. to carve new side doors in
wood, while Antonio Filarete and Simone Bardi were asked
to model and cast, in bronze, those of the middle entrance.

On entering the nave the visitor was struck by the simplicity
of Constantine’s design, and by the multitude and
variety of later additions, by which the number of altars
alone had been increased from one to sixty-eight. Ninety-two
columns supported an open roof, the trusses of which
were of the kingpost pattern. In spite of frequent repairs,
resulting from fires, decay, and age, some of these trusses
still bore the mark of Constantine’s name. They were
splendid specimens of timber. Filippo Bonanni, whose
description of S. Peter’s deserves more credit than all the
rest together, except Grimaldi’s manuscripts,[82] says that on
February 21, 1606, he examined and measured the horizontal
beam of the first truss from the façade, which Carlo
Maderno had just lowered to the floor; it was seventy-seven
feet long and three feet thick. The same writer
copies from a manuscript diary of Rutilio Alberini, dated
1339, the following story relating to the same roof: “Pope
Benedict XII. (1334-1342) has spent eighty thousand
gold florins in repairing the roof of S. Peter’s, his head
carpenter being maestro Ballo da Colonna. A brave man
he was, capable of lowering and lifting those tremendous
beams as if they were motes, and standing on them while
in motion. I have seen one marked with the name of the
builder of the church (CONstantine); it was so huge that
all kinds of animals had bored their holes and nests in it.
The holes looked like small caverns, many yards long, and
gave shelter to thousands of rats.” Grimaldi climbed the
roof at the beginning of 1606, and describes it as made of139
three kinds of tiles,—bronze, brick, and lead. The tiles of
gilt bronze were cast in the time of the emperor Hadrian
for the roof of the Temple of Venus and Rome. Pope
Honorius I. (625-640) was allowed by Heraclius to make
use of them for S. Peter’s. The brick tiles were all
stamped with the seal of King Theodoric, or with the
motto BONO ROMÆ (for the good of Rome). The lead
sheets bore the names of various Popes, from Innocent
III. (1130-1138) to Benedict XII. All these precious
materials for the chronology and history of the basilica
have disappeared, save a few planks from the roof, with
which the doors of the modern church were made.

Another sight must have struck the pilgrim as he first
crossed the threshold, that of the “triumphal arch” between
the nave and the transept, glistening with golden
mosaics. We owe to Prof. A. L. Frothingham, Jr., of Baltimore,
the knowledge of this work of art, he having found
the description of it by cardinal Jacobacci in his book “De
Concilio” (1538). The mosaics represented the emperor
Constantine being presented by S. Peter to the Saviour, to
whom he was offering a model of the basilica. It was
destroyed, with the dedicatory inscription, in 1525.[83]

The baptistery erected by Pope Damasus after the discovery
of the springs of the Aqua Damasiana, and restored by
Leo III. (795-816), stood at the end of the north transept.[84]
One of its inscriptions contained the verse—

“Una Petri sedes unum verumque lavacrum,”—

an allusion both to the baptismal font and to the “chair of
S. Peter’s,” upon which the Popes sat after baptizing the140
neophytes. The cathedra is mentioned by Optatus Milevitanus,
Ennodius of Pavia, and by more recent authors, as
having changed place many times, until Alexander VII.,
with the help of Bernini and Paul Schor, placed it in a case
of gilt bronze at the end of the apse. It has been minutely
examined and described several times by Torrigio, Febeo,
and de Rossi. I saw it in 1867. The framework and a few
panels of the relic may possibly date from apostolic times;141
but it was evidently largely restored after the peace of the
Church. The upright supports at the four corners were
whittled away by early pilgrims.

The Chair of S. Peter; after photograph from original. — A Oak wood, much decayed,
and whittled by pilgrims. B Acacia wood, inlaid with ivory carvings.

Another work of art deserves attention, because its origin,
age, and style are still matters of controversy. I mean
the bronze statue of S. Peter (see p. 142) placed against
the right wall of the nave, near the S. Andrew of Francis
de Quesnoy. Without attempting a discussion which would
be inconsistent with the spirit of this book, I can safely
state that the theories suggested by modern Petrographists,
from Torrigio to Bartolini, deserve no credit. The statue
is not the Capitoline Jupiter transformed into an apostle;
nor was it cast with the bronze of that figure; it never held
the thunderbolt in the place of the keys of heaven. The
statue was cast as a portrait of S. Peter; the head belongs
to the body; the keys and the uplifted fingers of the right
hand are essential and genuine details of the original composition.
The difficulty, and it is a great one, consists in
stating its age. There is no doubt that Christian sculptors
modelled excellent portrait-statues in the second and
third centuries: as is proved by that of Hippolytus (see p. 143),
discovered in 1551 in the Via Tiburtina, and now in
the Lateran Museum, a work of the time of Alexander
Severus.

There is no doubt also that there is a great similarity
between the two, in the attitude and inclination of the
body, the position of the feet, the style of dress, and even
the lines of the folds. But portrait-statues of bronze may
belong to any age; because, while the sculptor in marble
is obliged to produce a work of his own hands and conception,
and the date of a marble statue can therefore be determined
by comparison with other well-known works,
the caster in bronze can easily reproduce specimens of142
earlier and better times by taking a mould from a good
original, altering the features slightly, and then casting it in
excellent bronze. This seems to be the case with this celebrated
image. I know that the current opinion makes it
contemporary with the erection of Constantine’s basilica;
but to this I cannot subscribe on account of the comparatively
modern shape of the keys. One of two things must
be true,—either that these keys are a comparatively recent
addition, in which case the statue may be a work of the
fourth century, or they were cast together with the figure.
If the latter be the fact the statue is of a comparatively
recent age. Doubts on the subject might be dispelled by
a careful examination of these crucial details, which I have
not been able to undertake to my satisfaction.

Bronze Statue of S. Peter.

143The destruction of old S. Peter’s is one of the saddest
events in the history of the ruin of Rome. It was done at
two periods and in two sections, a cross wall being raised in
the mean time in the middle of the church to allow divine
service to proceed without interruption, while the destruction
and the rebuilding of each half was accomplished in
successive stages.

Statue of S. Hippolytus.

The work began April 18, 1506, under Julius II. It
took exactly one century to finish the western section, from
the partition wall to the apse. The demolition of the
eastern section began February 21, 1606. Nine years later,
on Palm Sunday, April 12, 1615, the jubilant multitudes
witnessed the disappearance of the partition wall, and beheld
for the first time the new temple in all its glory.

144It seems that Paul V., Borghese, to whom the completion
of the great work is due, could not help feeling a pang of
remorse in wiping out forever the remains of the Constantinian
basilica. He wanted the sacred college to share the
responsibility for the deed, and summoned a consistory for
September 26, 1605, to lay the case before the cardinals.
The report revealed a remarkable state of things. It seems
that while the foundations of the right side of the church
built by Constantine had firmly withstood the weight and
strain imposed upon them, the foundation of the left side,
that is, the three walls of the circus of Caligula, which had
been built for a different purpose, had yielded to the pressure
so that the whole church, with its four rows of columns,
was bending sideways from right to left, to the extent of
three feet seven inches. The report stated that this inclination
could be noticed from the fact that the frescoes of the
left wall were covered with a thick layer of dust; it also
stated that the ends of the great beams supporting the roof
were all rotten and no longer capable of bearing their
burden. Then cardinal Cosentino, the dean of the chapter,
rose to say that, only a few days before, while mass was
being said at the altar of S. Maria della Colonna, a heavy
stone had fallen from the window above, and scattered the
congregation. The vote of the sacred college was a foregone
conclusion. The sentence of death was passed upon the
last remains of old S. Peter’s; a committee of eight cardinals
was appointed to preside over the new building, and
nine architects were invited to compete for the design.
These were Giovanni and Domenico Fontana, Flaminio Ponzio,
Carlo Maderno, Geronimo Rainaldi, Nicola Braconi da
Como, Ottavio Turiano, Giovanni Antonio Dosio, and Ludovico
Cigoli. The competition was won by Carlo Maderno,
much to the regret of the Pope, who was manifestly in favor145
of his own architect, Flaminio Ponzio. The execution of
the work was marked by an extraordinary accident. On
Friday, August 27, 1610, a cloud-burst swept the city with
such violence that the volume of water which accumulated
on the terrace above the basilica, finding no outlet but the
winding staircases which pierced the thickness of the walls,
rushed down into the nave in roaring torrents and inundated
it to a depth of several inches. The Confession and
tomb of the apostle were saved only by the strength of the
bronze door.

It is very interesting to follow the progress of the work
in Grimaldi’s diary, to witness with him the opening and
destruction of every tomb worthy of note, and to make the
inventory of its contents. The monuments were mostly
pagan sarcophagi, or bath basins, cut in precious marbles;
the bodies of Popes were wrapped in rich robes, and wore
the “ring of the fisherman” on the forefinger. Innocent
VIII., Giovanni Battista Cibo (1484-1492), was folded in
an embroidered Persian cloth; Marcellus II., Cervini (1555),
wore a golden mitre; Hadrian IV., Breakspeare (1154-1159),
is described as an undersized man, wearing slippers of
Turkish make, and a ring with a large emerald. Callixtus
III. and Alexander VI., both of the Borgia family, have
been twice disturbed in their common grave: the first time
by Sixtus V., when he removed the obelisk from the spina of
the circus to the piazza; the second by Paul V. on Saturday,
January 30, 1610, when their bodies were removed to
the Spanish church of Montserrat, with the help of the
marquis of Billena, ambassador of Philip III., and of cardinal
Çapata.

Grimaldi asserts that Michelangelo’s plan of a Greek
cross had not only been designed on paper, but actually
begun. When Pope Borghese and Carlo Maderno determined146
upon the Latin cross, not only the foundations of the
front had been finished according to Michelangelo’s design,
but the front itself, with its coating of travertine, had been
built to the height of several feet. The construction of the
dome was begun on Friday, July 15, 1588, at 4 p. m. The
first block of travertine was placed in situ at 8 p. m. of the
thirtieth. The cylindrical portion or drum (tamburo) which
supports the dome proper was finished at midnight of December
17, of the same year, a marvellous feat to have accomplished.
The dome itself was begun five days later,
and finished in seventeen months. If we remember that
the experts of the age had estimated ten years as the time
required to accomplish the work, and one million gold scudi
as the cost, we wonder at the power of will of Sixtus V.,
who did it in two years and spent only one fifth of the
stated sum.[85] He foresaw that the political persecution
from the crown of Spain and the daily assaults, almost
brutal in their nature, which he had to endure from count
d’Olivare, the Spanish ambassador, would shorten his days,
and consequently manifested but one desire: that the dome
and the other great works undertaken for the embellishment
and sanitation of the city should be finished before
his death. Six hundred skilled craftsmen were enlisted to
push the work of the dome night and day; they were excused
from attending divine service on feast days, Sundays
excepted. We may form an idea of the haste felt by all
concerned in the enterprise, and of their determination
to sacrifice all other interests to speed, by the following
anecdote. The masons, being once in need of another receptacle
for water, laid their hands on the tomb of Pope
Urban VI., dragged the marble sarcophagus under the dome147
on the edge of a lime-pit, and emptied it of its contents.
The golden ring was given to Giacomo della Porta, the
architect, the bones were put aside in a corner of the building,
and the coffin was used as a tank from 1588 to 1615.

S. PETER’S IN 1588. (From an engraving by Ciampini)

When we consider that the building-materials—stones,
bricks, timber, cement, and water—had to be lifted to a
height of four hundred feet, it is no wonder that five hundred
thousand pounds of rope should have been consumed,
and fifteen tons of iron. The dome was built on a framework
of most ingenious design, resting on the cornice of the
drum so lightly that it seemed suspended in mid air. One
thousand two hundred large beams were employed in it.

Fea and Winckelmann assert that the lead sheets which
cover the dome must be renewed eight or ten times in a
century. Winckelmann attributes their rapid decay to the
corrosive action of the sirocco wind; Fea to the variations
in temperature, which cause the lead to melt in summer, and
crack in winter.

The size and height, the number of columns, altars,
statues, and pictures,—in short, the mirabilia of S. Peter’s,—have
been greatly exaggerated. There is no necessity
of exaggeration when the truth is in itself so astonishing.
Readers fond of statistics may consult the works of Briccolani
and Visconti.[86] The basilica is approached by a square
1256 feet in diameter. The nave is six hundred and thirteen
feet long, eighty-eight wide, one hundred and thirty-three
high; the transept is four hundred and forty-nine
feet long. The cornice and the mosaic inscription of the
frieze are 1943 feet long. The dome towers to the height
of four hundred and forty-eight feet above the pavement,
with a diameter on the interior of 139.9 feet, a trifle less148
than that of the Pantheon. The letters on the frieze are
four feet eight inches high. The old church contained sixty-eight
altars and two hundred and sixty-eight columns; while
the modern one contains forty-six altars,—before which
one hundred and twenty-one lamps are burning day and
night,—and seven hundred and forty-eight columns, of
marble, stone and bronze. The statues number three hundred
and eighty-six, the windows two hundred and ninety.

It is easy to imagine to what surprising effects of light
and shade such vastness of proportion lends itself on the
occasion of illuminations. These were made both inside
(Holy Thursday and Good Friday) and outside (Easter,
and June 29). The outside illumination required the use
of forty-four hundred lanterns, and of seven hundred and
ninety-one torches, and the help of three hundred and sixty-five
men. It has not been seen since 1870. I have heard
from old friends who remember the illumination of the
interior, which was given up more than half a century ago,
that no sight could be more impressive. In the darkness
of the night, a cross studded with thirteen hundred and
eighty lights shone like a meteor at a prodigious height,
while the multitude crowding the church knelt and prayed
in silent rapture.

Before leaving the Vatican let me answer a doubt which
may naturally have occurred to the mind of the reader, as
it has long perplexed the author. After the many vicissitudes
to which the place has been subject, from the time of
Elagabalus to the pillage of the constable de Bourbon,
can we be sure that the body of the founder of the Roman
Church is still lying in its grave under the great dome of
Michelangelo, under the canopy of Urban VIII., under the
high altar of Clement VIII.? After considering the case
from its various aspects, and weighing all the circumstances149
which have attended each of the barbaric invasions, I cannot
see any reason why we should disbelieve the popular
opinion. The tombs of S. Peter and S. Paul have been exposed
but once to imminent danger, and that happened in
846, when the Saracens took possession of their respective
churches and plundered them at leisure. Suppose the crusaders
had taken possession of Mecca: their first impulse
would have been to wipe the tomb of the Prophet from the
face of the earth, unless the keepers of the Kaabah, warned
of their approach, had time to conceal or protect the grave
by one means or another. Unfortunately, we know very
little about the Saracenic invasion of 846; still it seems
certain that Pope Sergius II. and the Romans were warned
days or weeks beforehand of the landing of the infidels,
by a despatch from the island of Corsica. Inasmuch as
the churches of S. Peter and S. Paul were absolutely defenceless,
in their outlying positions, I am sure that steps
were taken to conceal or wall in the entrance to the crypts
and the crypts themselves, unless the tombs were removed
bodily to shelter within the city walls. An argument, very
little known but of great value, seems to prove that the
relics were saved.

The “Liber Pontificalis” describes, among the gifts of
Constantine, a cross of pure gold, weighing one hundred
and fifty pounds, which he placed over the gold lid of the
coffin. The golden cross bore the following inscription in
niello work, “Constantine the emperor and Helena the
empress have richly decorated this royal crypt, and the
basilica which shelters it.” If this precious object is there,
the remains must a fortiori be there also. Here comes the
decisive test. In the spring of 1594, while Giacomo della
Porta was levelling the floor of the church above the Confession,
removing at the same time the foundations of the150
Ciborium of Julius II., the ground gave way, and he saw
through the opening what nobody had beheld since the
time of Sergius II.,—the grave of S. Peter,—and upon it
the golden cross of Constantine. On hearing of the discovery,
Pope Clement VIII., accompanied by cardinals Bellarmino,
Antoniano, and Sfrondato, descended to the Confession,
and with the help of a torch, which Giacomo della
Porta had lowered into the hollow space below, could see
with his own eyes and could show to his followers the cross,
inscribed with the names of Constantine and Helena. The
impression produced upon the Pope by this wonderful sight
was so great that he caused the opening to be closed at
once. The event is attested not only by a manuscript deposition
of Torrigio, but also by the present aspect of the
place. The materials with which Clement VIII. sealed the
opening, and rendered the tomb once more invisible and
inaccessible, can still be seen through the “cataract” below
the altar.

THE TWO BASILICAS OF S. PAUL
The original structure of Constantine in black, that of Theodosius and Honorius shaded

Wonder has been manifested at the behavior of Constantine
towards S. Paul, whose basilica at the second milestone
of the Via Ostiensis appears like a pigmy structure in
comparison to that of S. Peter. Constantine had no intention
of placing S. Paul in an inferior rank, or of showing
less honor to his memory. He was compelled by local
circumstances to raise a much smaller building to this
apostle. As before stated, there were three rules which
builders of sacred memorial edifices had to observe: first,
that the tomb-altar of the saint in whose honor the building
was to be erected should not be molested or moved
from its original place either vertically or horizontally;
second, that the edifice should be adapted to the tomb so as
to give it a place of honor in the centre of the apse; third,151
that the apse and the front of the edifice should look towards
the east. The position of S. Peter’s tomb in relation
to the circus of Nero and the cliffs of the Vatican was such
as to give the builders of the basilica perfect freedom
to extend it in all directions, especially lengthwise. This
was not the case with that of S. Paul, which was only a
hundred feet distant from an obstacle which could not be
overcome,—the high-road to Ostia, the channel by which
the city of Rome was fed. The road to Ostia ran east
of the grave; hence the necessity of limiting the size of
the church within these two points. Discoveries made
in 1834, when the foundations of the present apse were
strengthened, and again in 1850, when the foundations
of the baldacchino of Pius IX. were laid,[87] have enabled
Signor Paolo Belloni, the architect, to reconstruct the plan
of the original building of Constantine. His memoir[88] is
full of useful information well illustrated. One of his
illustrations, representing the comparative plans of the
original and modern churches, is here reproduced.

The plan needs no comment, but one particular cannot
be omitted. In the course of the excavations for the baldacchino,
the remains of classical columbaria were found a
few feet from the grave of the apostle, with their inscriptions
still in place. He must, therefore, have been buried,
like S. Peter, in a private area, surrounded by pagan tombs.

In 386 Valentinian, Theodosius, and Arcadius asked
Flavius Sallustius, prefect of the city, to submit to the152
Senate and the people a scheme for the reconstruction a
fundamentis of the basilica, so as to make it equal in size
and beauty to that of the Vatican. To fulfil this project,
without disturbing either the grave of the apostle or the
road to Ostia, there was but one thing to do; this was to
change the orientation of the church from east to west, and
extend it at pleasure towards the bank of the Tiber. The
consent of the S. P. Q. R. was easily obtained, and the
magnificent temple, which lasted until the fire of July 15,
1823, was thus raised so as to face in a direction opposite
to the usual one.

The Burning of S. Paul’s, July 15, 1823. (From an old print.)

The name of Pope Siricius, who was then governing the
church, can still be seen engraved on one of the columns,
formerly in the left aisle, now in the north vestibule:—

SIRICIVS EPISCOPVS ΑΩ TOTA MENTE DEVOTVS.

Another rare monument of historical value, in spite of153
its humble origin, came to light at the beginning of the
last century, and was published by Bianchini and Muratori,
who failed, however, to explain its meaning. It is a brass
label once tied to a dog’s collar, with the inscription “[I
belong] to the basilica of Paul the apostle, rebuilt by our
three sovereigns [Valentinianus, Theodosius, and Arcadius].
I am in charge of Felicissimus the shepherd.” Such inscriptions
were engraved on the collars of dogs, and slaves,
so that in case they ran away from their masters, their legal
ownership would be known at once by the police, or whoever
chanced to catch them.

In course of time the basilica became the centre of a
considerable group of buildings, especially of monasteries
and convents. There were also chapels, baths, fountains,
hostelries, porticoes, cemeteries, orchards, farmhouses,
stables, and mills. This small suburban city was exposed
to a constant danger of pillage, on account of its location
on the high-road from the coast. In 846 it was ransacked
by the Saracens, before the Romans could come to the
rescue. For these considerations, Pope John VIII. (872-882)
determined to put the church of S. Paul and its surroundings
under shelter, and to raise a fort that could also
command the approach to Rome from this most dangerous
side.

The construction of Johannipolis, by which the history
of the classical and early mediæval fortifications of Rome
is brought to a close, is described by one document only:
an inscription above the gate of the castle, which was copied
first by Cola di Rienzo, and later by Pietro Sabino, professor
of rhetoric in the Roman archigymnasium (Sapienza),
towards the end of the fifteenth century. A few
fragments of this remarkable document are still preserved
in the cloister of the monastery. It states that Pope154
John VIII. raised a wall for the defence of the basilica
of S. Paul’s and the surrounding churches, convents, and
hospices, in imitation of that built by Leo IV. for the
protection of the Vatican suburb. The determination to
fortify the sacred buildings at the second milestone of
the Via Ostiensis was taken, as I have just said, in consequence
of the inroads of the Saracens, which, under the
pontificate of John, had become so frequent. The atrocities
which marked their second landing on the Roman
coast were so appalling that the whole of Europe was
shaken with terror. Having failed in his attempt to secure
help from Charles the Bald, John placed himself at the
head of such scanty forces as he could gather from land
and sea, under the pressure of events. Ships from several
harbors in the Mediterranean met in the roads of Ostia;
and on hearing that the hostile fleet had sailed from the
bay of Naples, the Pope set sail at once. The gallant little
squadron confronted the infidels under the cliffs of Cape
Circeo, and inflicted upon them such a bloody defeat that
the danger was averted, at least for a time. The church
galleys came back to the mouth of the Tiber, laden with a
considerable booty.

It seems that the advance fort of Johannipolis was finished
and consecrated by Pope John soon after the naval
battle of Cape Circeo (a. d. 877), because the inscription
above referred to speaks of him as a triumphant leader,—SEDIS
APOSTOLICÆ PAPA JOHANNES OVANS.

The location of this fortified outpost could not have
been more judiciously selected. It commanded the roads
from Ostia, Laurentum, and Ardea, those, namely, from
which the pirates could most easily approach the city. It
commanded also the water-way by the Tiber, and the towpaths
on each of its banks. It is a great pity that no155
stone of this historical wall should be left standing. It
saved the city from further invasions of the African pirates,
as the agger of Servius Tullius had saved it, centuries
before, from the attacks of the Carthaginians. I have examined
the ground between S. Paul’s, the Fosso di Grotta
Perfetta, the Vigna de Merode, at the back of the apse, and
the banks of the river, without finding a trace of the fortification.
I believe, however, that the wall which encloses
the garden of the monastery on the south side runs on the
same line with John’s defences, and rests on their foundations.
We must not wonder at the disappearance of
Johannipolis, when we have proofs that even the quadri-portico,
by which the basilica was entered from the riverside,
has been allowed to disappear through the negligence
and slovenliness of the monks. Pope Leo I. erected in the
centre of the quadri-portico a fountain crowned by a
Bacchic Kantharos, and wrote on its epistyle a brilliant
epigram, inviting the faithful to purify themselves bodily
and spiritually, before presenting themselves to the apostle
within. When Cola di Rienzo visited the spot, towards the
middle of the fourteenth century, the monument was still
in good condition. He calls it “the vase of waters (cantharus
aquarum), before the main entrance (of the church)
of the blessed Paul.” One century later the whole structure
had become a heap of ruins. Fra Giocondo da Verona
looked in vain for the inscription of Leo I.; he could only
find a fragment “lying among the nettles and thorns”
(inter orticas et spineta). The same indifference was shown
towards the edifices by which the basilica was surrounded.
They fell, or were overthrown, one by one.

In 1633, when Giovanni Severano wrote his book on the
Seven Churches, only one bit of ruins could be identified,
the door and apse of the church of S. Stephen, to which a156
powerful convent had once been attached. Stranger still
is the total destruction of the portico, two thousand yards
long, which connected the city gate—the Porta Ostiensis—with
the basilica. This portico was supported by marble
columns, one thousand at least, and its roof was covered
with sheets of lead. Halfway between the gate and S. Paul’s,
it was intersected by a church, dedicated to an Egyptian
martyr, S. Menna. The church of S. Menna, the portico,
its thousand columns, even its foundation walls, have been
totally destroyed. A document discovered by Armellini
in the archives of the Vatican says that some faint traces
of the building (vestigia et parietes) could be still recognized
in the time of Urban VI. This is the last mention
made by an eye-witness.

Here, also, we find the evidence of the gigantic work of
destruction pursued for centuries by the Romans themselves,
which we have been in the habit of attributing to
the barbarians alone. The barbarians have their share of
responsibility in causing the abandonment and the desolation
of the Campagna; they may have looted and damaged
some edifices, from which there was hope of a booty; they
may have profaned churches and oratories erected over the
tombs of martyrs; but the wholesale destruction, the obliteration
of classical and mediæval monuments, is the work of
the Romans and of their successive rulers. To them, more
than to the barbarians, we owe the present condition of the
Campagna, in the midst of which Rome remains like an
oasis in a barren solitude.

S. Paul was executed on the Via Laurentina, near some
springs called Aquæ Salviæ, where a memorial chapel was
raised in the fifth century. Its foundations were discovered
in 1867, under the present church of S. Paolo alle Tre
Fontane (erected in the seventeenth century by Cardinal157
Aldobrandini) together with historical inscriptions written
in Latin and Armenian. I have also to mention another
curious discovery. The apocryphal Greek Acts of S. Paul,
edited by Tischendorff,[89] assert that the apostle was beheaded
near these springs under a stone pine. In 1875, while the
Trappists, who are now intrusted with the care of the
Abbey of the Tre Fontane, were excavating for the foundations
of a water-tank behind the chapel, they found a mass
of coins of Nero, together with several pine-cones fossilized
by age, and by the pressure of the earth.

Tombstone of S. Paul.

The “Liber Pontificalis,” i. 178, asserts that Constantine
placed the body of S. Paul in a coffin of solid bronze; but
no visible trace of it is left. I had the privilege of examining
the actual grave December 1, 1891, lowering myself
from the fenestella under the altar. I found myself on
a flat surface, paved with slabs of marble, on one of which
(placed negligently in a slanting direction) are engraved the
words: PAVLO APOSTOLO MART · · ·

158The inscription belongs to the fourth century. It has
been illustrated since by my kind and learned friend, Prof.
H. Grisar, to whom I am indebted for much valuable information
on subjects which do not come exactly within my
line of studies.[90]

IV. Houses of Confessors and Martyrs. This class
of sacred buildings has been splendidly illustrated by the
discoveries made by Padre Germano dei Passionisti under
the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo on the Cælian. The
good work of Padre Germano is not unknown in America,
thanks to Prof. A. L. Frothingham, who has described it
in the “American Journal of Archæology.” The discoverer
himself will shortly publish a voluminous account with
the title: La casa dei SS. Giovanni e Paolo sul monte
celio.

The church has the place of honor in early itineraries of
pilgrims, because of its peculiarity in containing a martyr’s
tomb within the walls of the city. William of Malmesbury
says: “Inside the city, on the Cælian hill, John and
Paul, martyrs, lay in their own house, which was made
into a church after their death.” The Salzburg Itinerary
describes the church as “very large and beautiful.” The
account of the lives of the two brothers, and of their
execution under Julian the apostate, is apocryphal; but no
one who has seen Padre Germano’s excavations will deny
the essential fact, that in this noble Roman house of the
Cælian some one was put to death for his faith, and that
over the room in which the event took place a church was
built at a later age.

Tradition attributes its construction to Pammachius, son159
of Bizantes, the charitable senator, and friend of S. Jerome,
who built an hospice at Porto for the use of pilgrims landing
from countries beyond the sea. The church, according
to the rule, was not named from the martyrs to whose memory
it was sacred, but from the founders; and it became
known first as the Titulus Bizantis, later as the Titulus
Pammachii.

Strictly speaking, there was no transformation, but a
mere superstructure. The Roman house was left intact,
with its spacious halls, and classical decorations, to be used
as a crypt, while the basilica was raised to a much higher
level. The murder of the saints seems to have taken place
in a narrow passage (fauces) not far from the tablinum or
reception room. Here we see the fenestella confessionis,
by means of which pilgrims were allowed to behold and
touch the venerable grave. Two things strike the modern
visitor: the variety of the fresco decorations of the house,
which begin with pagan genii holding festoons, a tolerably
good work of the third century, and end with stiff, uncanny
representations of the Passion, of the ninth and tenth
centuries; second, the fact that such an important monument
should have been buried and forgotten, so that its discovery
by Padre Germano took us by surprise. The upper church,
the “beautiful and great” Titulus Pammachii, was treated
with almost equal contempt by Cardinal Camillo Paolucci
and his architect, Antonio Canevari, who “modernized” it
at the end of the seventeenth century. The “spirit of the
age” which lured these seicento men into committing such
archæological and artistic blunders, placed no boundary
upon its evil work. It attacked equally the great mediæval
structures and their contents. To quote one instance:
in the vestibule of this church was the tomb of Luke,
cardinal of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, the friend of S. Bernard,160
the legate at the council of Clermont. It was composed of
an ancient sarcophagus, resting on two marble lions. During
the “modernization” of the seventeenth century, the
coffin was turned into a water-trough, and cut half-way
across so as to make it fit the place for which it was intended.
Had it not happened that the inscription was
copied by Bruzio before the mutilation of the coffin, we
should have remained entirely ignorant of its connection
with the illustrious friend of S. Bernard. But let us forget
these sad experiences, and step into the beautiful garden
of the convent, which, large as it is, with its dreamy
avenues of ilexes, its groves of cypress and laurel, and its
luxuriant vineyards, is all included within the limits of one
ancient temple, that of the Emperor Claudius (Claudium).

The view from the edge of the lofty platform over the
Coliseum, the Temple of Venus and Rome, and the slopes
of the Palatine, is fascinating beyond conception, and as
beautiful as a dream. No better place could be chosen for
the study of the next class of Roman places of worship,
which comprises:—

V. Pagan Monuments converted into Churches.
The experience gained in twenty-five years of active exploration
in ancient Rome, both above and below ground,
enables me to state that every pagan building which was
capable of giving shelter to a congregation was transformed,
at one time or another, into a church or a chapel. Smaller
edifices, like temples and mausoleums, were adapted bodily
to their new office, while the larger ones, such as thermæ,
theatres, circuses, and barracks were occupied in parts only.
Let not the student be deceived by the appearance of ruins
which seem to escape this rule; if he submits them to a
patient investigation, he will always discover traces of the161
work of the Christians. How many times have I studied
the so-called Temple of the Sibyl at Tivoli without detecting
the faint traces of the figures of the Saviour and the four
saints, which now appear to me distinctly visible in the
niche of the cella. And again, how many times have I
looked at the Temple of Neptune in the Piazza di Pietra,[91]
without noticing a tiny figure of Christ on the cross in one
of the flutings of the fourth column on the left. It seems
to me that, at one period, there must have been more
churches than habitations in Rome.

I shall ask the reader to walk over the Sacra Via from
the foot of the Temple of Claudius, on the ruins of which
we are still sitting, to the summit of the Capitol, and see
what changes time has wrought on the surroundings of this
pathway of the gods.

The Coliseum, which we meet first, on our right, was
bristling with churches. There was one at the foot of the
Colossus of the Sun, where the bodies of the two Persian
martyrs, Abdon and Sennen, were exposed at the time of the
persecution of Decius. There were four dedicated to the
Saviour (S. Salvator in Tellure, de Trasi, de Insula, de
rota Colisei), a sixth to S. James, a seventh to S. Agatha
(ad caput Africæ), besides other chapels and oratories
within the amphitheatre itself.

Proceeding towards the Summa Sacra Via and the Arch
of Titus we find a church of S. Peter nestled in the ruins of
the vestibule of the Temple of Venus (the S. Maria Nova
of later times).

Popular tradition connected this church with the alleged
fall of Simon the magician,—so vividly represented in
Francesco Vanni’s picture, in the Vatican,—and two cavities
were pointed out in one of the paving-stones of the162
road, which were said to have been made by the knees of
the apostle when he was imploring God to chastise the impostor.
The paving-stone is now kept in the church of S.
Maria Nova. Before its removal from the original place it
gave rise to a curious custom. People believed that rainwater
collected in the two holes was a miracle-working
remedy; and crowds of ailing wretches gathered around
the place at the approach of a shower.

On the opposite side of the road, remains of a large
church can still be seen at the foot of the Palatine, among
the ruins of the baths attributed to Elagabalus. Higher
up, on the platform once occupied by the “Gardens of
Adonis” and now by the Vigna Barberini, we can visit the
church of S. Sebastiano, formerly called that of S. Maria in
Palatio or in Palladio.

I am unable to locate exactly another famous church,
that of S. Cesareus de Palatio, the private chapel which
Christian emperors substituted for the classic Lararium
(described in “Ancient Rome,” p. 127). Here were placed
the images of the Byzantine princes, sent from Constantinople
to Rome, to represent in a certain way their rights.
The custody of these was intrusted to a body of Greek
monks. Their monastery became at one time very important,
and was chosen by ambassadors and envoys from
the east and from southern Italy as their residence during
their stay in Rome.

The basilica of Constantine is another example of this
transformation. Nibby, who conducted the excavations of
1828, saw traces of religious paintings in the apse of the
eastern aisle. They are scarcely discernible now.

The temple of the Sacra Urbs, and the heroön of Romulus,
son of Maxentius, became a joint church of SS. Cosma
and Damiano, during the pontificate of Felix IV. (526-530);163
the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina was dedicated
to S. Lorenzo; the Janus Quadrifrons to S. Dionysius,
the hall of the Senate to S. Adriano, the offices of the
Senate to S. Martino, the Mamertine prison to S. Peter, the
Temple of Concord to SS. Sergio e Bacco.

The same practice was followed with regard to the edifices
on the opposite side of the road. The Virgin Mary was
worshipped in the Templum divi Augusti, in the place of
the deified founder of the empire; and also in the Basilica
Julia, the northern vestibule of which was transformed into
the church of S. Maria de Foro. Finally, the Ærarium
Saturni transmitted its classic denomination to the church
of S. Salvatore in Ærario.

In drawing sheet no. xxix. of my archæological map of
Rome, which represents the region of the Sacra Via, I have
had as much to do with Christian edifices as with pagan
ruins.[92]

VI. Memorials of Historical Events. The first
commemorative chapel erected in Rome is perhaps contemporary
with the Arch of Constantine, and refers to the same
event, the victory gained by the first Christian emperor
over Maxentius in the plain of the Tiber, near Torre di
Quinto.

Statue of Constantine the Great.

The existence of this chapel, called the Oratorium Sanctæ
Crucis (“the oratory of the holy cross”), is frequently
alluded to in early church documents. The name must
have originated from a monumental cross erected on the164
battlefield, in memory of Constantine’s vision of the “sign
of Christ” (the monogram ). In the procession which
took place on S. Mark’s day, from the church of S. Lorenzo
in Lucina to S. Peter’s, through the Via Flaminia and across
the Ponte Milvio, the first halt was made at S. Valentine’s,[93]
the second at the chapel of the Holy Cross. The “Liber165
Pontificalis,” in the Life of Leo III. (795-816), speaks of
this strange ceremony. It was called the “great litany,”
and occurred on the twenty-third of April, the day on which
the Romans used to celebrate the Robigalia. The Christian
litany and the pagan ceremony had the same purpose,
that of securing the blessing of Heaven upon the
fields, and averting from them the pernicious effects of late
spring frosts. The rites were nearly the same, the principal
one being a procession which left Rome by the Porta
Flaminia, and passed across the Ponte Milvio to a suburban
sanctuary. The end of the pagan pilgrimage was a temple
of the god Robigus or the goddess Robigo, situated at the
fifth milestone of the Via Claudia; that of the Christian
the monumental cross near the same road, and ultimately
the basilica of S. Peter’s. In course of time the oratory
and cross lost their genuine meaning; they were thought
to mark the spot on which the miraculous vision had appeared
to Constantine on the eve of battle. This was not
the case, however, because Eusebius, to whom the emperor
himself described the event, says that the luminous sign
appeared to him before the commencement of military
operations, which means before he crossed the Alps and
took possession of Susa, Turin, and Vercelli. But, if the
heavenly apparition of the “sign of Christ” on Monte
Mario is historically without foundation, the existence of
the oratory is not. Towards the end of the twelfth century
it was in a ruinous state, and converted probably into
a stable or a hay-loft. The last archæologist who mentions
it is Seroux d’Agincourt. He describes the ruins “on the
slopes of the hill of the Villa Madama,” and gives a sketch of
the paintings which appeared here and there on the broken
walls. Armellini and myself have explored the beautiful
woods of the Villa Madama in all directions without finding166
a trace of the building. It was probably destroyed in
the disturbances of 1849.

The noble house of the Millini, to whom the Mons Vaticanus
owes its present name of Monte Mario (from Mario
Millini, son of Pietro and grandson of Saba), while building
their villa on the highest ridge, in 1470, raised a chapel
in place of the one which had been profaned, and called it
Santa Croce a Monte Mario. It was held in great veneration
by the Romans, who made pilgrimages to it in times of
public calamities, such as the famous plague (contagio-moria)
of Alexander VII. I well remember this interesting
little church, before its disappearance in 1880. Its
pavement, according to the practice of the time, was inlaid
with inscriptions from the catacombs, whole or in fragments,
twenty-four of which are now preserved in the Lipsanotheca
(Palazzo del Vicario, Piazza di S. Agostino). They
contain a curious list of names, like Putiolanus (so called
from his birth-place, Pozzuoli) or Stercoria, a name which
seems to have been taken up by devout people, as a sign of
humility. Another inscription over the door of the sacristy
spoke of a restoration of the building in 1696; a third,
composed by Pietro and Mario Mellini in 1470, sang the
praises of the cross. The most important record, however,
was engraved on a slab of marble at the left of the entrance:—

“This oratory was first built in the year of the jubilee,
MCCCL, by Pontius, bishop of Orvieto and vicar of the
city of Rome.”

The inscription, besides proving that the removal of the
oratory from its original site to the summit of the mountain
had been accomplished before the age of the Millini,
is the only historical record of the jubilee of 1350, which
attracted to Rome enormous multitudes, so that pilgrims’167
camps had to be provided both inside and outside the walls.
Petrarca and king Louis of Hungary (then on his way
back from Apulia) were among the visitors. Bishop Pontius
of Orvieto, Ponzio Perotti, is also an historical man. He
was intrusted with the government of the city in consequence
of the attempted assassination of his predecessor,
cardinal Annibaldo, by a partisan of Cola di Rienzo.

This chapel, to which so many interesting souvenirs were
attached, which owed its origin to one of the greatest battles
in history, which commanded one of the finest panoramas
in the world, is no more. It was sacrificed in 1880
to the necessity of raising a fortress on the hill. No sign
is left to mark its place.

The Mausoleum of Augustus. Ancient writers have
left detailed accounts of the last hours of the founder of the
Roman Empire. On the morning of the nineteenth of
August, anno Domini 14, feeling the approach of death, Augustus
inquired of the attendants whether the outside world
was concerned at his precarious condition; then he asked
for a mirror, and composed his body for the supreme event,
as he had long before prepared his mind and soul. Of his
friends and the officers of the household he took leave in a
cheerful spirit; and as soon as he was left alone with Livia
he passed away in her arms, saying, “Livia, may you live
happily, as we have lived together from the day of our marriage.”169
His death was of the kind he had desired, peaceful
and painless. Ευθανασιαν (an easy end) was the word he
used longingly, whenever he heard of any one dying without
agony. Once only in the course of the malady he seemed to
lose consciousness, when he complained of forty young men
crowding around the bed to steal away his body. More than
a wandering mind, Suetonius thinks this was a vision or premonition
of an approaching event, because forty prætorian
soldiers were really to carry the bier in the funeral march.
The great man died at Nola, in the same villa and room
in which his father, Octavius, had passed away years before.
His body was transported from village to village, from city
to city, along the Appian Way, by the members of each
municipal council in turn; and, to avoid the intense heat
of the Campanian and Pontine lowlands, the procession
marched only at night, the bier being kept in the local
sanctuaries or town halls during the day. Thus Bovillae
(le Frattocchie, at the foot of the Alban hills) was reached.
The whole Roman knighthood was here in attendance; the
body was carried in triumph, as it were, over the last ten
miles of the road, and deposited in the vestibule of the
palace on the Palatine Hill.

Military funeral evolutions; from the base of the Column of Antoninus.

Meanwhile proposals were made and resolutions passed
in the Senate, which went far beyond anything that had
ever been suggested in such contingencies of state. One of
the members recommended that the statue of Victory which
stood in the Curia should be carried before the hearse, that
lamentations should be sung by the sons and daughters of
the senators, and that the pageant, on its way to the Campus
Martius, should march through the Porta Triumphalis, which
was never opened except to victorious generals. Another
member suggested that all classes of citizens should put aside
their golden ornaments and all articles of jewelry, and wear170
only iron finger-rings; a third, that the name of “August”
should be transferred to the month of September, because
the lamented hero was born in the latter and had died in
the former. These exaggerated expressions of grief were
suppressed, however, and the funeral was organized with the
grandest simplicity. The body was placed in the Forum, in
front of the Temple of Julius Cæsar, from the rostra of
which Tiberius read a panegyric. Another oration was
delivered at the opposite end of the Forum by Drusus, the
adopted son of Tiberius. Then the senators themselves
placed the bier on their shoulders, leaving the city by the
Porta Triumphalis. The procession formed by the Senate,
the high priesthood, the knights, the army, and the whole
population skirted the Circus Flaminius and the Septa Julia,
and by the Via Flaminia reached the ustrinum, or sacred enclosure171
for cremation. As soon as the body had been placed
on the pyre the “march past” began in the same order, the
officers and men of the various army corps making their
evolutions or decursiones. This word, taken in a general
sense, means a long march by soldiers made in a given time
and without quitting the ranks; when referring to a funeral
ceremony it signifies special evolutions performed three
times, in honor of distinguished generals. A decursio
is represented on the base of the column of Antoninus
Pius, now in the Giardino della Pigna. In that which I am
describing, officers and men threw on the pyre the decorations
which Augustus had awarded them for their bravery
in battle. The privilege of setting fire to the rogus was
granted to the captains of the legions whom he had led
so often to victory. They approached with averted faces,172
and, uttering a last farewell, performed their act of duty
and respect. The cremation accomplished, and while the
glowing embers were being extinguished with wine and
perfumed waters, an eagle rose from the ashes as if carrying
the soul of the hero to Heaven. Livia and a few officers
watched the place for five days and nights, and finally
collected the ashes in a precious urn, which they placed in
the innermost crypt of the mausoleum which Augustus had
built in the Campus Martius forty-two years before.

The Apotheosis of an Emperor; from the base of the Column of Antoninus.

Of this monument we have a description by Strabo, and
ruins which substantiate the description in its main lines.
It was composed of a circular basement of white marble, two
hundred and twenty-five feet in diameter, which supported
a cone of earth, planted with cypresses and evergreens.
On the top of the mound the bronze statue of the emperor
towered above the trees.

This type of sepulchral structure dates almost from prehistoric
times, and was in great favor with the Etruscans.
The territories of Vulci, near the Ponte dell’ Abbadia, and
of Veii, near the Vaccareccia, are dotted with these mounds,
which the peasantry call cocumelle. Augustus made the
type popular among the Romans, as is proved by the large
number of tumuli which date from his age, on the Via Salaria,
the Via Labicana, and the Via Appia.

His tomb was entered from the south, the entrance being
flanked by monuments of great interest, such as the obelisks
now in the Piazza del Quirinale and the Piazza di S. Maria
Maggiore; the copies of the decrees of the Senate in honor
of the personages buried within; and, above all, the Res
gestæ divi Augusti, a sort of political will, autobiography,
and apology, the importance of which surpasses that of any
other document relating to the history of the Roman Empire.

This was written by Augustus towards the end of his173
life. He ordered his executors to have it engraved on
bronze pillars on each side of the entrance to his mausoleum.
That his will was duly executed by Livia, Tiberius, Drusus,
and Germanicus, his heirs and trustees, is proved by the frequent
allusions to the document made by Suetonius and
Velleius, and also by the copies which have come down to
us, not from Rome or Italy, but from the remote provinces
of Galatia and Pisidia.

It was customary in ancient times to raise temples in
honor of the rulers of the empire, and to ornament them
with their images and eulogies. These were called Augustea
or ædes Augusti et Romæ in the western provinces,
σεβαστεια in eastern or Greek-speaking countries,[95] Ancyra
(Angora), the capital of Galatia, and Apollonia, the capital
of Pisidia, were the foremost among the Asiatic cities to
pay this honor to the founder of the empire.

The Ancyran temple owes its preservation to the Christians,
who made use of it as a church from the fourth to
the fifteenth centuries, and also to the Turks, who have
turned it into a mosque associated with the Hadji Beiram.
The temple and its invaluable epigraphic treasures became
known towards the middle of the sixteenth century. In
1555 an embassy was sent by the emperor Ferdinand
II. to Suleiman, the khalif, who was then residing at
Amasia.[96] It so happened that the head of the mission,
Ogier Ghislain Busbecq, and his assistant, Antony Wrantz,
bishop of Agram, were fond of archæological investigation.
They were struck by the importance of the Augusteum at174
Ancyra; and with the help of their secretaries, they made
a tolerably good copy of its inscriptions. Since 1555 the
place has been visited many times, notably by Edmond
Guillaume, in 1861, and by Humann, in 1882.[97] There are
two copies of the will of Augustus engraved on the marble
wall of the temple: one in Latin, which is in the pronaos,
on either side of the door; the other in Greek, on the outer
wall of the cella. Both were transcribed (or translated)
“from the original, engraved on the bronze pillars at the
mausoleum in Rome.” The document is divided into three
parts, and thirty-five paragraphs. The first part describes
the honors conferred on Augustus,—military, civil, and
sacerdotal; the second gives the details of the expenses which
he sustained for the benefit and welfare of the public; the
third relates his achievements in peace and war; and some
of the facts narrated are truly remarkable. He says, for
instance, that the Roman citizens who fought under his
orders and swore allegiance to him numbered five hundred
thousand, and that more than three hundred thousand completed
the term of their engagement, and were honorably
dismissed from the army. To each of these he gave either
a piece of land, which he bought with his own money, or
the means of purchasing it in other lands than those assigned
to military colonies. Since, at the time of his death,
one hundred and sixty thousand Roman citizens were still
serving under the flag, the number of those killed in battle,
disabled by disease, or dismissed for misconduct, in the
course of fifty-five years[98] is reduced to forty thousand.
The percentage is surprisingly low, considering the defective175
organization of the military medical staff, and the
length and hardships of the campaigns which were conducted
in Italy (Mutina), Macedonia (Philippi), Acarnania
(Actium), Sicily, Egypt, Spain, Germany, Armenia and
other countries. The number of men-of-war of large tonnage,
which were captured, burnt, or sunk in battle, is
stated at six hundred. In the naval engagement against
Sextus Pompeius, off Naulochos, he sank twenty-eight vessels,
and captured or burnt two hundred and fifty-five; so
that only seventeen out of a powerful fleet of three hundred
could make their escape.

Thrice he took the census of the citizens of Rome; the
first time in the year 29-28 b. c., when 4,063,000 souls
were counted; the second in the year 8 b. c., showing
4,233,000; the third in 14 a. d., with 4,937,000. Under
his peaceful rule, therefore, there was an increase of
874,000 in the number of Roman citizens. He remarks
with pride that, while from the beginning of the history of
Rome to his own age the gate of the Temple of Janus had
been shut but twice, as a sign that peace was prevailing
over land and sea, he had been able to close it three times
in the course of fifty years. His liberalities are equally
surprising. Sometimes they took the form of free distributions
of corn, oil, or wine; sometimes of an allowance of
money. He asserts that he spent in gifts the sum of six
hundred and twenty millions of sestertii, nearly twenty-six
millions of dollars. Adding to this sum the cost of purchasing
lands for his veterans in Italy (six hundred millions)
and in the provinces (two hundred and sixty millions),
of giving pecuniary rewards to his veterans (four hundred
millions), of helping the public treasury (one hundred and
fifty millions), and the army funds (one hundred and seventy
millions), besides other grants and bounties, the176
amount of which is not known, we reach a total expenditure
for the benefit of his people of ninety-one million dollars.

I need not speak of the material renovation of the city,
which he found of brick and left of marble. Roads, streets,
aqueducts, bridges, quays, places of amusement, places of
worship, parks, gardens, public offices, were built, opened,
repaired, and decorated with incredible profusion. Suetonius
says that, on one occasion alone, he offered to Jupiter
Capitolinus sixteen thousand pounds of gold and fifty millions’
worth of jewels. In the year 28 b. c. not less than
eighty-two temples were rebuilt in Rome itself.

Were we not in the presence of official statistics and of
state documents, we should hardly feel inclined to believe
these enormous statements. We must remember, too, that
the work of Augustus was seconded and imitated with
equal magnitude by his wealthy friends and advisers, Marcius
Philippus, Lucius Cornificius, Asinius Pollio, Munatius
Plaucus, Cornelius Balbus, Statilius Taurus, and above all
by Marcus Agrippa, to whom we owe the aqueducts of the
Virgo and Julia, the Pantheon, the Thermæ, the artificial
lake (stagnum), the Portico of the Argonauts, the Temple
of Neptune, the Portico of Vipsania Palta, the Diribitorium,
the Septa, the Campus Agrippæ, a bridge on the Tiber, and
hundreds of other costly structures. During the twelve
months of his ædileship, in 19 b. c., he rebuilt the network
of the city sewers, adding many miles of new channels,
erected eight hundred and five fountains, and one hundred
and thirty water reservoirs. These edifices were ornamented
with three hundred bronze and marble statues, and
four hundred columns.

We have seen works of perhaps greater importance accomplished
in our age; but, as Baron de Hübner remarks,
in speaking of another great man, Sixtus V., they are the177
joint product of government, national credit, speculation,
and public and private capital; and they are facilitated by
wonderful mechanical contrivances. The transformation of
Rome at the time of Augustus was the work of a few
wealthy citizens, whose names will forever be connected
with their splendid creations.

The gates of the Mausoleum of Augustus were opened
for the last time in a. d. 98, for the reception of the ashes
of Nerva. We hear no more of it until the year 410, when
the Goths ransacked the imperial vaults. No harm, however,
seems to have been done to the building itself at that
time. Like the mausolea of Metella, on the Appian Way,
and Hadrian, on the right bank of the Tiber, it was subsequently
converted into a stronghold, and occupied by the
Colonnas. Its ultimate destruction, in 1167, marks one of
the great occurences in the history of mediæval Rome.

Between the counts of Tusculum, partisans of the German
Empire, and the Romans, devoted to their independent
municipal government, there was a feud of long standing,
which had resulted occasionally in open violence. In 1167,
Alexander III. being Pope, the Romans decided to strike the
decisive blow on the Tusculans, as well as on their allies, the
Albans. The cardinal of Aragona, the biographer of Alexander
III., states that towards the end of May, when the
cornfields begin to ripen, the Romans sallied forth on their
expedition against Count Raynone, much against the Pope’s
will; and having crossed the frontier of his estate, set fire
to the crops, uprooted trees and vineyards, ruined farmhouses,
killed cattle, and laid siege to the city itself. Raynone,
knowing how precarious his position was, implored
the help of the emperor Frederic, who was at that time encamped
near Ancona. The request was granted, and a
body of German warriors returned with the ambassadors to178
the rescue of Tusculum. They soon perceived that, although
the Romans had the advantage of numbers, they
were so imperfectly drilled and so insubordinate that the
chances were equal for both sides. The battle was opened
at nine o’clock on the morning of Whit-Monday, May 30,
1167. The twelve hundred Germans, led by Christian,
archbishop of Mayence, and three hundred Tusculans, led by
Raynone, gallantly attacked the advance guard of the
Roman army, which numbered thirty thousand men. Overcome
by panic, the Romans fled and disbanded at the first
encounter. They were closely followed from valley to valley,
and slain in such numbers that scarcely one third of
them reached the walls of Aurelian in safety. The local
memories of the battle still survive, after a lapse of eight
centuries; the valley which leads from the villa of Q.
Voconius Pollio (Sassone) to Marino being still called by the
peasantry “la valle dei morti.”

On the following day an embassy was sent to Archbishop
Christian and Count Raynone begging leave to bury the
dead. The permission was granted, with the humiliating
clause that the number of dead and missing should be reported
at Tusculum. The legend says that the number
ascertained was fifteen thousand, which is an exaggeration.
Contemporary historians speak of only two thousand dead
and three thousand prisoners, who were sent to Viterbo.
The chronicle of Sikkardt adds that the Romans were encamped
near Monte Porzio; that the battle lasted only two
hours, and that the dead were buried in the church of S.
Stefano, at the second milestone of the Via Latina, with the
following inscription:—

MILLE DECEM DECIES ET SEX DECIES QVOQVE SENI,—

179which, if genuine, proves that the number of killed in battle
was only eleven hundred and sixty-six, that is, 1,000+100+60+6.

The connection of the Mausoleum of Augustus with this
mediæval battle of Cannæ is easily explained. The mausoleum
had been selected by the Colonnas for their stronghold
in the Campus Martius, and it was for their interest to keep
it in good repair. As happens in cases of crushing defeats,
when the succumbing party must find an excuse and an opportunity
for revenge, the powerful Colonnas were accused
of high treason, namely, of having led the advance-guard of
the Romans into an ambush. Consequently they were banished
from the city, and their castle on the Campus Martius
was destroyed. Thus perished the Mausoleum of Augustus.

The history of its ruins, however, does not end with the
events just described. Most important of all, they are associated
with the fate of Cola di Rienzo. His biographer,
in Book III. ch. xxiv., says that the body of the Tribune
was allowed to remain unburied, for two days and one night,
on some steps near S. Marcello. Giugurta and Sciarretta
Colonna, leaders of the aristocratic faction, ordered the body
to be dragged along the Via Flaminia, from S. Marcello to
the mausoleum which had been occupied and fortified by
that powerful family once more in 1241. In the mean time,
the Jews had gathered in great numbers around the “Campo
dell’ Augusta,” as the ruins were then called. Thistles and
dry brushwood were collected and set afire, and the body
thrown into the flames; this extemporized pyre being fed
with fresh fuel until every particle of the corpse was consumed.
A strange coincidence, that the same monument
which the founder of the empire, the oppressor of Roman
liberty, had chosen for his own burial-place, should serve,
thirteen centuries later, for the cremation of him who tried180
to restore popular freedom! Here is the description of the
event by a contemporary: “Along this street (the Corso of
modern days) the corpse was dragged as far as the church of
S. Marcello. There it was hung by the feet to a balcony,
because the head had been crushed and lost, piece by piece,
along the road; so many wounds had been inflicted on the
body that it might be compared to a sieve (crivello); the
entrails were protruding like a bull’s in the butchery; he
was horribly fat, and his skin white, like milk tinted with
blood. Enormous was his fatness,—so great as to give him
the appearance of an ox (bufalo). The body hung from the
balcony at S. Marcello for two days and one night, while
boys pelted it with stones. On the third day it was removed
to the Campo dell’ Augusta, where the Jewish colony, to a
man, had congregated; and although the pyre had been
made only with thistles, in which those ruins abounded, the
fat from the corpse kept the flames alive until their work
was accomplished. Not an atom of the great champion of
the Romans was left.”

I need not remind the reader that the house near the
Ponte Rotto, and opposite the Temple of Fortuna Virilis,
which guides attribute to Cola di Rienzo, has no connection
with him.[99] He was born and lived many years near
the church of S. Tommaso in Capite Molarum, between
the Palazzo Cenci and the synagogue of the Jews, on the
left bank of the Tiber. The church is still in existence,
although it has changed its mediæval name into that of
S. Tommaso a’ Cenci.

The house by the Ponte Rotto, just referred to, has still
another name in folk-lore; it is called the House of Pilate.
The denomination is not so absurd as it at first seems; it
brings us back to bygone times, when passion-plays were181
performed in Rome in a more effective way than they are
now exhibited at Oberammergau. They took place, not on
a wooden stage, so suggestive of conventionality, but in a
quarter of the city most wonderfully adapted to represent
the Via Dolorosa of Jerusalem, from the houses of Pilate
and Caiaphas to the summit of Calvary.

The passion-play began at a house, Via della Bocca della
Verità, No. 37, which is still called the “Locanda della
Gaiffa,” a corruption of Gaifa, or Caiaphas. From this
place the procession moved across the street to the “Casa
di Pilato,” as the house of Crescenzio was called, where the
scenes of the Ecce Homo, the flagellation, and the crowning
with thorns, were probably enacted. The Via Dolorosa
corresponds to our streets of the Bocca della Verità, Salara,
Marmorata, and Porta S. Paolo; there must have been
stations at intervals for the representation of the various
episodes, such as the meeting with the Virgin Mary, the
fainting under the cross, the meeting with Veronica and
with the man from Cyrene. The performance culminated
on the summit of the Monte Testaccio, where three crosses
were erected. One is still there.

Readers who have had an opportunity of studying the
Via Dolorosa at Jerusalem will be struck by the resemblance
between the original and its Roman imitation. The latter
must have been planned by crusaders and pilgrims on
their return from the Holy Land towards the end of the
thirteenth century. Every particular, even those which rest
on doubtful tradition, was repeated here, such as that referring
to the house of the rich man, and to the stone in
front of it on which Lazarus sat. A ruin half-way between
the house of Pilate, by the Ponte Rotto, and the Monte
Testaccio, or Calvary, is still called the Arco di S. Lazaro.

The Mausoleum of Augustus was explored archæologically182
for the first time in 1527, when the obelisk now in
the Piazza di S. Maria Maggiore was found on the south
side, near the church of S. Rocco. On July 14, 1519,
Baldassarre Peruzzi discovered and copied some fragments
of the original inscriptions in situ; but the discovery
made in 1777 casts all that preceded it into the shade. In
the spring of that year, while the corner house between the
Corso and the Via degli Otto Cantoni (opposite the Via
della Croce) was being built, the ustrinum, or sacred enclosure
for the cremation of the members of the imperial
family, came to light, lined with a profusion of historical
monuments. Strabo describes the place as paved with
marble, enclosed with brass railings, and shaded by poplars.
The marble pavement was found at a depth of nineteen
feet below the sidewalk of the Corso. The first object to
appear was the beautiful vase of alabastro cotognino, now
in the Vatican Museum (Galleria delle Statue), three feet in
height, one and one half in diameter, with a cover ending
in a lotus flower, the thickness of the marble being only
one inch. The vase had once contained the ashes of one
of the imperial personages in the mausoleum; either Alaric’s
barbarians or Roman plunderers must have left it in
the ustrinum, after looting its contents.

The marble pedestals lining the borders of the square
were of two kinds: some were intended to indicate the
spot on which each prince had been cremated, others the
place where the ashes had been deposited. The former end
with the formula HIC CREMATVS (or CREMATA) EST,
the latter with the words HIC SITVS (or SITA) EST.

Augustus was not the first member of the family to
occupy the mausoleum. He was preceded by Marcellus
(28 b. c.) whose premature fate is so admirably described
by Virgil (Æneid, vi. 872); by Marcus Agrippa, in 14 b. c.;183
by Octavia, the sister of Augustus, in the year 13; by
Drusus the elder, in the year 9; and by Caius and Lucius,
nephews of Augustus. After Augustus, the interments
of Livia, Germanicus, Drusus, son of Tiberius, Agrippina
the elder, Tiberius, Antonia wife of Drusus, Claudius,
Brittannicus, and Nerva are registered in succession. Of
these great and, in many cases, admirable men and women,
ten funeral cippi have been found in the ustrinum, some
by the Colonnas before they were superseded by the Orsinis
in the possession of the place, some in the excavations of
1777.

The fate of two of them cannot fail to impress the student
of the history of the ruins of Rome. The pedestal
of Agrippina the elder, daughter of Agrippa, wife of Germanicus,
and mother of Caligula, and that of her eldest
son Nero, were hollowed out during the Middle Ages,
turned into standard measures for solids, and as such placed
at the disposal of the public in the portico of the city hall.
The pedestal of Nero perished during the renovation of the
Conservatori Palace at the time of Michelangelo; that of
Agrippina is still there.

The Cippus of Agrippina the Elder, made into a measure for grain.

The fate of this noble woman is described by Tacitus in
the sixth book of the Annals; she was banished by Tiberius
to the island of Pandataria, now called Ventotiene, where
she spent the last three years of her life in solitude and
grief. In 33 a. d.—the most memorable date in Christian
chronology—she either starved herself to death voluntarily,
or was starved by order of her persecutor. On
hearing of her death the emperor eulogized his own clemency,
because, instead of strangling the princess and exposing
her body on the Gemonian steps, he had allowed
her to die a peaceful death in that island. No honors
were paid to her memory, but as soon as Caligula succeeded184
Tiberius in the government of the empire, he sailed to
Pandataria, collected the ashes of his mother and relatives,
and ultimately placed them in the mausoleum. The cippus
represented in the illustration below is manifestly the
work of Caligula, because mention is made
on it of his accession to the throne. The
hole excavated in it in the Middle Ages is capable
of holding three hundred pounds of
grain, as shown by the legend RVGIATELLA
DE GRANO, engraved in Gothic letters
above the municipal coat of arms. The
three armorial shields below belong to the
three syndics, or conservatori, by whose authority the standard
measure was made. Another inscription, engraved in 1635
on the opposite side, says: “The S.P.Q.R. pay honor to
the memory of the noble and courageous woman who voluntarily
put an end to her life” (and here follows a witticism
of doubtful taste on the bread which she denied herself,
and on the breadstuffs, for the measurement of which
her tomb had been used).

The other cippi found in the ustrinum mention four
other children of Germanicus, among them Caius Cæsar,
the lovely child who was so much beloved by Augustus,185
and so deeply regretted by him. A statue representing the
youth with the attributes of a Cupid was dedicated by Livia
in the temple of the Capitoline Venus, and another one
was placed by Augustus in his own bedroom, on entering
and leaving which he never missed kissing the cherished
image.

The Mausoleum of Augustus and its precious contents
have not escaped the spoliation and desecration which seem
to be the rule both in past and modern times. The building
is used now as a circus. Its basement is concealed by
ignoble houses; the urn of Agrippina is kept in the courtyard
of the Palazzo dei Conservatori; three others have
been destroyed, and six belong to the Vatican Museum.

Head of Nero, in the Capitoline Museum.

The Tomb of Nero. The defection of the last Roman
legion was announced to Nero while at dinner in the
Golden House. On hearing the news, he tore up the letters,
upset the table, dashed upon the floor two marvellous
cups, called Homeric, because their chiselling represented
scenes from the Iliad; and having borrowed from Locusta
a phial of poison, went out to the Servilian gardens. He
then despatched a few faithful servants to Ostia with orders
to keep a squadron of swift vessels in readiness for his
escape. After this he inquired of the officers of the prætorian
guards if they were willing to accompany him in
his flight; some found an excuse, others openly refused;
one had the courage to ask him: “Is death so hard?”
Then various projects began to agitate his mind; now he
was ready to beg for mercy from Galba, his successful
opponent; now to ask help from the Parthian refugees,
and again to dress himself in mourning, and appear barefooted
and unshaven before the public by the rostra, and implore
pardon for his crimes; in case that should be refused, to186
ask permission to exchange the imperial power for the governorship
of Egypt. He was ready to carry this project into
execution, but his courage failed at the last moment, as he
knew that the exasperated people would tear him to pieces
before he could reach the
Forum. Towards evening
he calmed his mind in the
hope that there would be
time enough to make a decision
if he waited until the
next day. As midnight approached
he awoke, to find
that the Prætorians detailed
at the gates of the Servilian
gardens had retired to their
barracks. Servants were sent
to rouse the friends sleeping
in the villa, but none of them
returned. He went around
the apartments, finding them
closed and deserted. On re-entering
his own room he saw
that his private attendants
had run away, carrying the
bed-covers, and the phial of
poison. Then he seemed determined to put an end to
his life by throwing himself from one of the bridges; but
again his courage failed, and he begged to be shown a
hiding-place. It was at this supreme moment that Phaon
the freedman offered him his suburban villa, situated between
the Via Salaria and the Via Nomentana, four miles
outside the Porta Collina. The proposal was accepted
at once; and barefooted, and dressed in a tunic, with a187
mantle of the commonest material about his shoulders, he
jumped on a horse and started for the gate, accompanied by
only four men,—Phaon, Epaphroditus, Sporus, and another
whose name is not given.

The Ponte Nomentano.

The incidents of the flight were terrible enough to deprive
the imperial fugitive of the last spark of hope. The
sky was overcast, and heavy black clouds hung close to the
earth, the stillness of nature being occasionally broken by
claps of thunder. The earth shook just as he was riding
past the prætorian camp. He could hear the shouts of the
mutinous soldiers cursing his name, while Galba was proclaimed
his successor. Farther on, the fugitives met several
men hurrying towards the town in search of news. Nero
heard some of them telling one another to be sure to run
in search of him. Another passer inquired the news from
the palace. Before reaching the Ponte Nomentano, Nero’s
horse, frightened by a corpse which was lying on the roadside,188
gave a start. The slouched hat and handkerchief,
with which the emperor was trying to conceal his face,
slipped aside, and just at that moment a messenger from
the prætorian camp recognized him, and by force of habit
gave the military salute.

MAP SHOWING THE LOCATION OF PHAON’S VILLA

Beyond the bridge the Via Nomentana divides: the main
road, on the right, leads to Nomentum (Mentana); the left
to the territory of Ficulea (la Cesarina). It is now called
the Strada delle Vigne Nuove. Nero and his followers took
this country road. The particulars given by Suetonius suit
the present aspect and the nature of the district so exactly
that we can follow the four men step by step to the walls
of Phaon’s villa. The slopes of the hills were then, as
they are now, uncultivated, and covered with bushes.
There is still a path on the banks of the Fosso della Cecchina,
leading to the rear wall of the villa, aversum villæ
parietem; and the hillsides are still honeycombed with pozzolana
quarries, the angustiæ cavernarum of Suetonius.
The villa extends on the tableland, or ridge, between the valleys
of la Cecchina and Melaina. Its main gate corresponds
exactly with the gate of the Vigna Chiari, the first of the
“vigne nuove” on the right as one goes from Rome, at a
distance of six kilometres from the threshold of the Porta
Collina. For a radius of a thousand feet around the gate,
we meet with the typical remains of a Roman villa of the
first century,—porticoes, water tanks, and substructions,
from the platform of which there is a lovely view over the
wooded plains of the Tiber and the Anio, the city, and the
hills of the Vatican, and of the Janiculum, which frame
the panorama. The site is pleasant, secluded, and quiet,
so that it well fulfilled the wish for a secretior latetra expressed
by Nero in his hopeless condition. The fugitives
dismounted at the turn of the Strada delle Vigne Nuove,189
and let the horses loose among the brambles. Not wishing
to be seen in the open road, they followed the lower path
on the banks of the Cecchina, which was concealed by a
thick growth of canes. It was necessary to bore a hole in
the rear wall of the villa, and while this was being done,
Nero quenched his thirst from a pond of stagnant water,
near the opening of the pozzolana quarries. Once inside
the villa, he was asked to lie down on a couch covered with
a peasant’s mantle, and was offered a piece of stale bread,
and a glass of tepid water. Food he refused, but touched
the rim of the cup with his parched lips. It is curious to
read in Suetonius of the many grimaces the wretch made
before he could determine to kill himself; he made up his
mind to do so only when he heard the tramping of the
horsemen whom the Senate had sent to arrest him. He
then put the dagger into his throat, aided in giving the
last thrust by his freedman Epaphroditus. The centurion
sent to take him alive arrived before he expired. To him
Nero addressed these last words: “Too late! Is this your
fidelity?” He gradually sank, his countenance assuming
such a frightful expression that all who were present fled
in horror. Icelus, freedman of Galba, the newly elected
emperor, gave his consent to a decent funeral. Ecloge
and Alexandra, his nurses, Acte his mistress, and the three
faithful men who had accompanied him in his flight, provided
the necessary funds, about five thousand dollars.
The body was cremated, wrapped in a sheet of white woven
with gold, the same that he had used on his bed New
Year’s night. The three women collected the ashes and
placed them in the tomb of the Domitian family, which
stood on the spur of the Pincian Hill which is behind the
present church of S. Maria del Popolo. The urn was of
porphyry, the altar upon which it stood of Carrara marble,190
and the tomb itself of Thesian marble. A pathetic discovery
has just been made in the Vigna Chiari, on the
exact spot of Nero’s suicide, by my friend, Cav. Rodolfo
Buti, that of the tomb of Claudia Ecloge, the old woman
who was so devoted to her nursling. The epitaph is a
plain marble slab containing only a name. But this simple
inscription, read amid the ruins of Phaon’s villa, with
every detail of the scene of the suicide before one’s eyes,
makes more impression on the feelings than would a great
monument to her memory. As she could not be buried
within or near the family vault of the Domitii on the Pincian,
she selected the spot where Nero’s remains had been
cremated.

“When Nero perished by the justest doom
Which ever the destroyer yet destroy’d,
Amidst the roar of liberated Rome,
Of nations freed, and the world overjoy’d,
Some hands unseen strew’d flowers upon his tomb,—
Perhaps the weakness of a heart not void
Of feeling for some kindness done, when power
Had left the wretch an uncorrupted hour.”[100]

The original epitaph of Claudia Ecloge has been removed
to the Capitoline Museum, where it seems lost among so
many other objects of interest; but the student who will
select the Vigne Nuove for an afternoon excursion will
find there a facsimile, placed by our archæological commission
on the front wall of the Casino di Vigna Chiari.

Plan of the Alta Semita.

The Tomb of the Flavian Emperors. The Via del
Quirinale-Venti Settembre, which leads from the Quirinal
Palace to the Porta Pia, corresponds exactly to the old Alta
Semita, which was a street of such importance, on account
of its length, straightness, and surroundings, that the whole191
region (the sixth) was named from it. For our present
purpose we shall take into consideration only the first part,
between the Quirinal Palace and
the Quattro Fontane. It was bordered
on the north side by the
Temple of Quirinus, discovered
and demolished in 1626, and by
the Capitolium Vetus, the old
Capitol, also destroyed in 1625,
by Pope Barberini.

The opposite side of the street
was lined with private mansions of
families who were eminent in the
history of the republic and the
empire. The first belonged to
Pomponius Atticus, the friend of
Cicero, and to his descendants the
Pomponii Bassi. Cicero locates it
between the Temple of Quirinus
and the Temple of Health, that
is, near the present church of S.
Andrea al Quirinale; and precisely
here, in November, 1558, the
house was discovered by Messer
Uberto Ubaldini, in such perfect
condition that the family documents
and deeds, inscribed on
bronze, were still hanging on the
walls of the tablinum,—a fact
that is recorded only twice in the annals of Roman excavations.[101]
The house, seen and described by Manuzio and192
Ligorio, stood at the corner of the Alta Semita and a side
street called “The Pomegranate” (ad malum punicum),
and was profusely adorned with statues, colonnades, spacious
halls, etc. One of the bronze tablets, which was
saved from the ruins, and is now exhibited in the Gallery
of the Uffizi, at Florence, states that the municipal council
of Ferentinum, assembled in the Temple of Mercury, had
placed the city under the guardianship of Pomponius Bassus,
a. d. 101. The patronage was accepted by the gallant
patrician, and tabulæ hospitales were exchanged between
the parties.

When his majesty king Humbert laid out a new garden,
in 1887, on the site of this house, I hoped to come
across some of the ruins described by Manuzio and Ligorio.
But nothing was found, except a marble statue, of no especial
value, which is now preserved in the royal palace.

Another illustrious man lived near the Temple of Health,—Valerius
Martial the epigrammatist. He distinctly says
so in his “Epigrams” (x. 58; xi. 1). Was the house his
own, or did he dwell in it as a tenant or guest? I believe
he was the guest of his wealthy relative and countryman
G. Valerius Vegetus, consul a.d. 91, whose city
residence occupied half the site of the present building of
the Ministry of War, on the Via Venti Settembre.

The residence has been explored three times, at least;
the first in 1641, the second in 1776, the last in the
autumn of 1884. Judging from this last exploration,
which was conducted in my presence, and described by
my late friend Capannari in the “Bullettino Comunale”
of 1885, the palace of Valerius Vegetus must have been
built and decorated on a grand scale. Martial, like all
poets, if not actually in financial difficulties, was never a
rich man, much less the owner of a private residence in193
a street and quarter in which the land alone represented a
fortune.

Between the two palaces just described, the Pomponian
and the Valerian, in the space now occupied by the Palazzo
Albani and the church and convent of S. Carlino alle
Quattro Fontane, there was an humbler house, which belonged
to Flavius Sabinus, brother of Vespasian. Here
the emperor Domitian was born, October 24, a. d. 50. The
house which stood at the corner of the Alta Semita and
the “Pomegranate” street was converted by him into a
family memorial, or mausoleum, after the death of his
father and brother. Here were buried, besides Vespasian
and Titus, Flavius Sabinus, Julia, daughter of Titus, and
ultimately Domitian himself.

The story of his death is as follows: After murdering his
cousin Flavius Clemens, the Christian prince whose fate I
have described in chapter i., his life became an intolerable
burden to him. The fear that some one would suddenly
rise to revenge the innocent blood into which he had
dipped his hands made him tremble every moment for his
life; so much so that he caused the porticos of the imperial
palace to be encrusted with Phengite marble, in the
brilliant surface of which he could see the reflection of his
followers and attendants, and could watch their proceedings
even if they were at quite a distance behind him.
For several weeks he was frightened by thunderbolts.
Once the Capitol was struck, next the family tomb on the
Quirinal, which he had officially styled Templum Flaviæ
Gentis; and another time the imperial palace and even his
own bedroom. He was heard to mutter to himself in despair,
“Let them strike: who cares?” On another occasion
a furious cyclone wrenched the dedicatory tablet from the
pedestal of his equestrian statue in the Forum. He also194
dreamed that Minerva, the protecting divinity of his happier
days, had suddenly disappeared from his private chapel.
What frightened him most, however, was the fate of Askletarion
the fortune-teller. Having asked what sort of death
Askletarion expected, the answer was: “I shall very soon
be torn to pieces by dogs.” To persuade himself and his
friends that these predictions deserved no credit, Domitian,
who had just received a very sad warning from the
oracle of the Fortuna Prænestina, caused the necromancer
to be killed at once, and his remains to be enclosed in a
well-guarded tomb. But while the cremation was in progress,
a hurricane swept the ustrinum, and frightened
away the attendants, so that the half-charred remains did
fall a prey to the dogs. The story was related to the emperor
that very evening while he was at supper.

The details of the assassination, which took place a few
days later, on September 18, a. d. 96, in the forty-fifth year
of his age, and the fifteenth of his reign, are not well known,
because, with the exception of the four murderers, the deed
was witnessed only by a little boy, to whom Domitian had
given the care of the images of the gods in the bedroom.
The names of the conspirators are Saturius, the head valet
de chambre, Maximus, a freedman of a lower class, Clodianus,
an orderly, and Stephanus, who was the head of the
party. He was led to commit the crime in the hope that
the embezzlements of which he was guilty in his management
of the property of Flavia Domitilla, niece of the
emperor, would never be discovered, or punished. To avoid
suspicion, he appeared for several days before the attempt
with his arm bandaged, and in a sling, so that he could
carry a concealed weapon with impunity even in the presence
of his intended victim. The boy stated at the
inquest that Domitian died like a brave man, fighting195
unarmed against his assailants. The moment he saw Stephanus
drawing his dagger he told the boy to hand him
quickly the poniard under the pillow of his bed, and to run
for help; but he found only the empty scabbard, and all
the doors were locked. The emperor fell at the seventh
stroke.

The corpse was removed to a garden which his nurse
Phyllis owned, on the borders of the Via Latina; and
the ashes were secretly mingled with those of his niece
Julia, another nursling of Phyllis, and deposited in the
family mausoleum on the Quirinal. The mausoleum, which
rose in the middle of the atrium of the old Flavian house,
was discovered and destroyed towards the middle of the
sixteenth century. Ligorio describes the structure as a
round temple, with a pronaos of six columns of the composite
order. The excavations were made at the expense
of cardinal Sadoleto. He found among other things a
beautiful marble statue of Minerva, with a shield in the
left hand and a lance in the right. The villa of cardinal
Sadoleto was afterwards bought by messer Uberto Ubaldini,
who levelled everything to the ground, and uprooted
the very foundations of the building. In so doing he discovered
several headless marble statues. Flaminio Vacca
adds, that the columns were of bigio africano, fourteen
feet high.

The reader will easily understand, that were I to pass in
review the tombs of all the rulers of the Roman Empire,
from Trajan to Constantine, the present chapter would exceed
the allotted length of the entire book. The Mausoleum
of Hadrian, on which the history of the city is written
century by century, down to our days; the Column of
Trajan, in the foundations of which the ashes of the best196
of Roman princes are buried; the tomb of Geta, built in
the shape of a septizonium, on the Appian Way; the artificial
hill of the Monte del Grano, believed to be the tomb
of Alexander Severus, and his wife and mother, in the very
depths of which the Capitoline sarcophagus and the Portland
vase were found: all these monuments would furnish
abundant material for archæological, artistic, and historical
discussion. My purpose is, however, to mention only subjects
illustrated by recent and little-known discoveries, or
else to select such representative specimens as may help the
reader to compare pagan with Christian art and civilization.
For this reason, and to save unavoidable repetitions, I pass
over the fate of the emperors of the second and third centuries,
and resume my description with those who came to
power after the peace of the church.

Remains of Geta’s Mausoleum.

Mausolea of Christian Emperors. The first Christian
members of the imperial family, Helena, mother of
Constantine, and Constantia, his daughter, were buried in
separate tombs, one on the Via Labicana, at the place197
formerly called ad duas Lauros and now Torre Pignattara,
the other near the church of S. Agnese, on the Via Nomentana.

The Torre Pignattara.

Helena’s mausoleum at Torre Pignattara (so called from
the pignatte, or earthen vases built into the vault to lighten
its weight) is round in shape, and contains seven niches or
recesses for sarcophagi. One of these sarcophagi, famous
in the history of art, was removed from its position as early
as the middle of the twelfth century by Pope Anastasius
IV., who selected it for his own resting-place. It was
taken to the Lateran basilica, where it appears to have
been much injured by the hands of indiscreet pilgrims. In
1600 it was carried from the vestibule to the tribune, and198
thence to the cloister-court. When Pius VI. added it to
the wonders of the Vatican Museum, it was subjected to a
thorough process of restoration which employed twenty-five
stone-cutters for a period of nine years.

The reliefs upon it are tolerably well executed, but lack
invention and novelty. They are partly borrowed from an
older work, partly combined from various sources in an
extraordinary manner; horsemen hovering in the air, and
below them, prisoners and corpses scattered around. They
are intended to represent a triumphal procession, or possibly
a military decursio, to which allusion has been made
above.

It may appear indiscreet and even insulting on the part
of Anastasius IV. to have removed the remains of a canonized
empress from this noble sarcophagus in order to have
his own placed in it; but we must bear in mind that although
the Torre Pignattara has all the appearance of a
royal mausoleum, and although the ground on which it
stands is known to have belonged to the crown, Eusebius
and Socrates deny that Helena was buried in Rome. Their
assertion is contradicted by the “Liber Pontificalis” and
by Bede, and above all by the similarity between this porphyry
coffin and the one discovered in the second mausoleum
of which I have spoken,—that of S. Constantia, on
the Via Nomentana.

SARCOPHAGUS OF HELENA, MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE

When the love of splendor which was characteristic of the
Romans of the decadence induced them to take possession
of the enormous block of primeval stone of which this
second sarcophagus was made, the art of sculpture had already
degenerated; all that it could accomplish was to
impart to this mass of rock more of an architectural than
a plastic shape. The representations with which the sarcophagus
is adorned or disfigured, as the case may be, if met199
with elsewhere would scarcely attract our attention. On
the sides are festoons enclosing groups of winged boys
gathering grapes; on the ends are similar figures treading
out the grapes. This sarcophagus was removed to the
Hall of the Greek Cross by the same enlightened Pope
Pius VI.

The Mausoleum of S. Constantia.

The same vintage scenes are represented in the beautiful
mosaics with which the vault of the mausoleum is encrusted,
and from this circumstance the monument received
the erroneous name of the Temple of Bacchus, at the time
of the Renaissance. There is no doubt that this is the
tomb of the princess whose name it bears. Amianus Marcellinus,
Book XXI., chapter i., says that the three daughters
of Constantine—Helena, wife of Julian, Constantina,
wife of Gallus Cæsar, and Constantia, who had vowed herself
to chastity, and to the management of a congregation200
of virgins which she had established at S. Agnese—were
all buried in the same place.

Plan of the Imperial Mausoleum.

The study of these two structures may help us greatly to
explain the origin and purpose of the two rotundas which
are known to have existed on the south side of S. Peter’s,
in the arena of Nero’s circus. One of them, dedicated to
S. Petronilla, was destroyed in the sixteenth century; the
other, called the Church of S. Maria della Febbre, met
with the same fate during the pontificate of Pius VI.
Their exact situation in relation to the modern basilica is
shown by the accompanying diagram.

Mention of the structure, with its classical denomination
of “Mausileos,” appears in the life of Stephen II. (a. d. 752).
To fulfil a promise which he had made to Pepin, king of
France, that the remains of Petronilla, who was believed to201
be the daughter of Peter, should be no longer exposed to
barbaric profanations in their original resting-place on the
Via Ardeatina, but put under the shelter of the Leonine
walls near the remains of her supposed father, he selected
one of these two rotundas, which became known as the
“chapel of the kings of France.” The early topographers
of the Renaissance, ignorant of its history, gave a wrong
name to the building, calling it the Temple of Apollo.
That it was, however, of Christian origin, is proved not
only by the fact that a temple could never have been built
across the spina of the circus, and by the technical details
of its construction, which show it to be a work of the end
of the fourth or the beginning of the fifth century, but also
by historical evidence. In 423 Honorius was buried in the
mausoleum close by S. Peter’s (juxta beati Petri apostoli
atrium in mausoleo). In 451 the remains of the Emperor
Theodosius II. were removed from Constantinople to the
mausoleum ad apostolum Petrum. In 483 Basilius, prefect
of the Prætorium, summoned the leaders of the clergy
and of the laity to the mausoleum quod est apud beatissimum
Petrum. A precious engraving by Bonanni, No.
lxxiv. of his volume on the Vatican, represents the outside
of one of the rotundas, the nearest to the obelisk of the
circus. The architecture of the building, so similar to the
tomb of S. Helena at Torre Pignattara, gives some conception
of the enormous downfall of Roman art and civilization,
when we compare it with the tombs of Augustus and
Hadrian.

The discovery of the imperial graves which filled the two
rotundas did not take place at one and the same time. Their
profanation and robbery was accomplished in various stages,
by various persons; and so little has been said or written
about them, that only in these last years has de Rossi been202
able to reconstruct in its entirety this chapter in the history
of the destruction of Rome.

ROTUNDA AND OBELISK SOUTH OF OLD S. PETER’S. (After Bonanni)

In the chronicle of Nicolò della Tuccia of Viterbo is the
following entry, dated 1458: “On the 27th day of June,
news was circulated in Viterbo that two days before a great
discovery had been made in S. Peter’s of Rome. A priest of
that church, having manifested the wish to be buried in the
chapel of S. Petronilla, in the tribune on the right, where
the story of the emperor Constantine was painted in ancient
times, they found, while digging there, a tomb of exquisite
marble, containing a sarcophagus, and inside of it, a smaller
coffin of cypress wood overlaid with silver. This silver, of
eleven carats standard, weighed eight hundred and thirty-two
pounds. The bodies were wrapped in a golden cloth
which yielded sixteen pounds of that precious metal. It was
said that the bodies were those of Constantine and his little
son. No written record or sign was found except a cross
made in this shape: The Pope, Callixtus III., took possession
of everything and sent the gold and silver to the
mint.” We hear no more of the imperial mausoleum during
the sixty following years. In the diary of Marcantonio
Michiel, of Venice, the next discovery is registered under the
date of December 4, 1519: “A few days ago, while excavations
were going on in the chapel of the kings of France,
for the rebuilding of one of the altars, several antique coffins
were found, and in one of them the bones of an old Christian
prince, wrapped in a pall of gold cloth and surrounded with
articles of jewelry. There was a necklace with a cross-shaped
pendant, believed to be worth three thousand ducats.
I know that a certain jeweller offered that amount of money
for the dress alone to Giuliano Lena, who was in charge of
the excavations. The Pope attached great importance to
the jewels, although it was found out afterwards that they203
were not worth two thousand ducats, on account of some
flaws in the stones, and of injury wrought by time on their
mounting. The prospect of finding more made them overturn
the whole pavement of the chapel.” Another entry
of the same diary, under the date of December 23, says:
“The treasure-trove in the chapel of the kings of France
consists of eight pounds of gold from the melting of dresses,
of a cross of gold, dotted with emeralds, and of a second
plain one, the value of all being a little over one thousand
ducats. The Pope made a present of some to the chapter
of S. Peter’s that they might make a new reliquary for the
skull of S. Petronilla.”