The following account is from the author of Rome in the Nineteenth Century. “We passed through a long succession of immense halls, open to the sky, whose pavements of costly marbles, and rich mosaics, long since torn away, have been supplied by the soft green turf, that forms a carpet more in unison with their deserted state. The wind sighing through the branches of the aged trees, that have taken root in them, without rivalling their loftiness, was the only sound we heard; and the bird of prey, which burst through the thick ivy of the broken wall far above us, was the only living object we beheld. These immense halls formed part of the internal division of the Thermæ, which was entirely devoted to purposes of amusement. The first of the halls, or walled enclosures, that you enter, and several of the others, have been open in the centre. These were surrounded by covered porticos, supported by immense columns of granite, which have long since been carried away; chiefly by the popes, and princes of the Farnese family. In consequence of their loss the roofs fell with a concussion so tremendous, that it is said to have been felt even in Rome, like the distant shock of an earthquake. Fragments of this vaulted roof are still lying at the corners of the porticoes. The open part, in the centre, was probably designed for athletic sports. Many have been the doubts and disputes among the antiquaries, which of these halls have the best claims to be considered as the once wonderful Cella Solearis. All are roofless now; but the most eastern of them, that which is farthest to the left on entering, and which evidently had windows, seems generally to enjoy the reputation. Besides these enormous halls, there are, on the western side of these ruins, the remains of a large circular building, and a great number of small divisions, of all sizes and forms, in their purpose wholly incomprehensible; except that they belonged to that part of the Thermæ destined for purposes of amusement. Nothing can now be known; and though the immense extent of the baths may be traced, far from hence, by the wide-spreading ruins, it is equally difficult and unprofitable to explore them any further.”
In these baths were discovered (A. D. 1540), the celebrated Farnese Hercules; also the famous Flora (1540); and the Farnese Bull, in 1544. In those of Titus, the Belvidere Meleager; and the wonderful group, entitled the Laocöon; and not far from them the exquisite figure of Antinous.
Columns, or pillars,162 were none of the meanest beauties of the city. They were at least converted to the same design as the arches; for the honourable memorial of some noble victory or exploit; after they had been a long time in use for the chief ornament of the sepulchres of great men.
There are three columns more celebrated than the rest. These are, the pillars of Trajan, of Antoninus, and of Phocas. The first of these was set up in the middle of Trajan’s Forum; being composed of twenty-four great stones of marble;163 but so curiously cemented, as to seem one entire natural stone. The height was one hundred and forty-four feet, according to Eutropius; though Marlian seems to make them but one hundred and twenty-eight: yet they are easily reconciled, if we suppose one of them to have begun the measure from the pillar itself, and the other from the basis. It is ascertained on the inside by one hundred and eighty-five winding stairs, and has forty little windows for the admission of light. The noblest ornament of this pillar was the statue of Trajan at the top, of a gigantic height; being no less than twenty-five feet high. He was represented in a coat of armour, proper to the general, holding in his left hand a sceptre; in his right a hollow globe of gold, in which his ashes were deposited after his death.
The subjects of the bas-reliefs, as we have already stated, are the victories of Trajan, in his Dacian campaign164. The whole number of figures sculptured is about 2,500; and the figure of Trajan himself is repeated more than fifty times. At the lower part of the column, the human figures are about two feet high; as they ascend, and thus become further removed from the eye, their size is increased, till, at the top of the column, they have nearly double the height that they have below. These bas-reliefs are executed with great delicacy and spirit; but they possess a higher value of a different kind. “The Roman dress and manners,” says Dr. Burton, “may receive a considerable light from them. We find the soldiers constantly carrying their swords on the right side. On a march they are generally bare-headed; some have no helmets at all; others wear them suspended to their right shoulder; each of them carries a stick over the left shoulder, which seems to have been for the purpose of carrying their provisions. We may observe also a wallet, a vessel for wine, and a machine for dressing meat.”
Their shields165 were oblong, with different devices upon them; their standards of various kinds; pictures also were used; which were portraits of gods, or heroes. The soldiers wear upon their legs a kind of light pantaloons, reaching a little below the knee, and not buttoned. The Dacians have loose pantaloons, reaching to the ankle, and shoes; they also carry curved swords. The Sarmatian cavalry, allies of Decabalus (the Dacian king) wear plated armour, covering the men and horses. Their armour was a covering of thin circular plates, which were adapted to the movements of the body, and drawn over all their limbs; so that in whatever direction they wished to move, their clothing allowed them free play, by the close fitting of its joints. Some Roman soldiers have also plate-armour; but they are archers. The horses have saddles, or rather cloths, which are fastened by cords round the breast, and under the tail. The Dacian horses are without this covering; and the Germans, or some other allies, have neither saddles nor bridles to their horses. We might observe several other particulars, such as a bridge of boats over a river, and that the boats everywhere are without a rudder, but are guided by an oar, fastened with a thong on one side of the stern. The wall of the camp has battlements, and the heads of the Dacians are stuck to it. The Dacian women are represented burning the Roman prisoners. We may also see the testudo, formed by soldiers putting their shields together in a compact mass over their backs. Victory is represented as writing with a pen on a shield166.
The column of Antoninus was raised in imitation of this, which it exceeded in one respect; that it was one hundred and seventy-six feet high. The work was much inferior to that of Trajan’s, as being undertaken in the declining age of the empire. The ascent on the inside was by one hundred and six stairs, and the windows in the sides fifty-six. The sculpture and the other monuments were of the same nature as those of the first; and on the top stood a colossus of the emperor, naked, as appears from some of his coins. Both these columns are still standing; the former most entire. But Pope Sixtus V., instead of the statues of the emperors, set up St. Peter’s, on the column of Trajan, and St. Paul’s, on that of Antoninus.
The historical columns167 are true to no order of architecture. Trajan’s has a Tuscan base and capital, and a pedestal with Corinthian mouldings. That of M. Aurelius repeats the same mixture; but its pedestal is restored: and though higher, both in proportion and in place, than Trajan’s, does not associate so well with its shaft. These are the only regular pedestals that are observed in Roman antiquity.
Next to these may be classed the column of Phocas168. So recently as twenty-four years ago, the whole of its base, and part of the shaft, were buried in the soil; and up to that time, the ingenuity of the learned was severely tried, in the attempt to find for it a name. One thought it a fragment of the Græcostasis; another adjudged it to a temple of Jupiter Custos; and a third urged the claim of Caligula’s bridge. At length, it was thought that, possibly, the column might originally have been isolated, and thus in itself a complete monument; that, consequently, if the earth at its foot were removed, a pedestal might be uncovered with some inscriptions thereon. The Duchess of Devonshire had recourse to this simple expedient, in the year 1813; the base of the column was laid open, and upon it an inscription was found, recording the fact, that a gilt statue was placed on the top of it in the year 608, in honour of the emperor Phocas, by Smaragdus, exarch of Italy.
The material of the column is Greek marble, the capital is Corinthian, and the shaft is fluted. The height is forty-six feet, but as it stands upon a pyramid of eleven steps, its elevation is increased about eleven feet.
The seventh Basilica stands about two miles from the walls; the church itself is a fine building, restored in 1611; but the portico, of antique marble columns, is of the time of Constantine. Under the church are the openings to very extensive catacombs, originally formed no doubt by the ancient Romans, to procure pozzolana for their buildings; and enlarged by the early Christians, who used them as places of refuge during their persecutions, and as cemeteries, one hundred and seventy thousand of them having, it is said, been interred there. The passages are from two to three feet in width, and extend several miles in different directions.
A hall of immense size169 was discovered about the beginning of the last century, concealed under the ruins of its own massive roof. The pillars of verde antico that supported its vaults, the statues that ornamented its niches, and the rich marbles that formed its pavements, were found buried in rubbish, and were immediately carried away by the Farnesian family, the proprietors of the soil, to adorn their palaces and furnish their galleries. This hall is now cleared of its encumbrances, and presents to the eye a vast length of naked wall, and an area covered with weeds. “As we stood contemplating its extent and proportion,” continues Mr. Eustace, “a fox started from an aperture, once a window, at one end, and crossing the open space, scrambled up the ruins at the other, and disappeared in the rubbish. This scene of desolation reminded me of Ossian’s beautiful description: – ‘The thistle shook there its lonely head; the moss whistled to the gale; the fox looked out from the windows; the rank grass waved round his head.’”
There are twelve obelisks at Rome still standing erect, the oldest of which is that brought by Augustus, which is eighty feet in height, decorating the fine square called Piazza del Popolo.
Roman conquerors had successively enriched the capital of the world with the monuments of subdued nations, and with the spirit of art from Sicily, Greece, and Egypt. Among these, the emperor Augustus ordered two Egyptian obelisks to be carried to Rome. To this end, an immense vessel of a peculiar structure was built, and when, after a tedious and difficult voyage, it reached the Tiber with its freight, one of the columns was placed in the Grand Circus, and the other in the Campus Martius. Caligula adorned Rome with a third Egyptian obelisk, obtained in the like manner.
A fourth was added afterwards. The emperor Constantine, equally ambitious of these costly foreign ornaments, resolved to decorate his newly-founded capital of Constantinople with the largest of all the obelisks that stood on the ruins of Thebes. He succeeded in having it conveyed as far as Alexandria, but, dying at the time, its destination was changed, and an enormous raft, managed by three hundred rowers, transported the granite obelisk from Alexandria to Rome.
The Circi were places set apart for the celebration of several sorts of games. They were generally oblong, or almost in the shape of a bow, having a wall quite round, with ranges of seats for the convenience of the spectators. At the entrance of the circus stood the Carceres, or lists, whence they started, and just by them one of the Metæ, or marks, the other standing at the further end to conclude the race. “There were several of these Circi at Rome, as those of Flaminius, Nero, Caracalla, and Severus; but the most remarkable, as the very name imports, was Circus Maximus, first built by Tarquinius Priscus. The length of it was four furlongs, the breadth the like number of acres, with a trench of ten feet deep, and as many broad, to receive the water; and seats enough for one hundred and fifty thousand men. It was beautified and adorned by succeeding princes, particularly by Julius Cæsar, Augustus, Caligula, Domitian, Trajan, and Heliogabalus; and enlarged to such a prodigious extent as to be able to contain, in their proper seats, two hundred and sixty thousand spectators. In the time of Constantine it would hold three hundred and eighty-five thousand persons to view the combats, chariot races, &c.170” The Circus Maximus stands on the spot where the games were celebrated when the Romans seized the Sabine women; and it was here also that the interesting scene took place between Androcles and the lion.
The number of beasts exhibited in the circus is wonderful; and were it not well attested, would be incredible. In the days of imperial splendour, nearly every rare animal that Western Asia or Northern Africa could produce, was commonly exhibited to the Roman people. In the year 252 B. C. one hundred and forty-two elephants, brought from Sicily, were exhibited in the circus. Cæsar, in his third dictatorship, showed a vast number of wild beasts, among which were four hundred lions, and a camelopard. The emperor Gordian devised a novel kind of spectacle; he converted the Circus into a temporary kind of wood, and turned into it two hundred stags, thirty wild horses, one hundred wild sheep, ten elks, one hundred Cyprian bulls, three hundred ostriches, thirty wild asses, one hundred and fifty wild boars, two hundred ibices, and two hundred deer. He then allowed the people to enter the wood, and to take what they pleased. Forty years afterwards the emperor Probus171 imitated his example. “Large trees were pulled up by the roots,” says an ancient writer, “and fastened to beams, which were laid down crossing each other. Soil was then thrown upon them, and the whole Circus planted like a wood. One thousand ostriches, one thousand stags, one thousand ibices, wild sheep, and other grazing animals, as many as could be fed or found, were turned in, and the people admitted as before.”
Of the trouble which was taken in the republican times to procure rare animals for exhibition in Rome, we have a curious illustration in the letters of Cicero. The orator went out in the year 52 B. C., as governor of a province of Asia Minor; and while there, he was thus addressed by his friend Cœlius: – “I have spoken to you, in almost all my letters, about the panthers. It will be disgraceful to you, that Patiscus has sent ten panthers to Curio, while you have scarcely sent a greater number to me. Curio has made me a present of these, and ten others from Africa. If you will only keep it in mind, and employ the people of Cybira, and also send letters into Pamphylia (for I understand that the greatest number are taken there), you will gain your object.” To this the proconsul replies: – “I have given particular orders about the panthers to those who are in the habit of hunting them; but they are surprisingly scarce; and it is said, that those which are there, make a great complaint that there are no snares laid against any one in my province but themselves. It is accordingly supposed, that they are determined to quit my province. I go into Caria. However, I shall use all diligence.”
The avidity172 with which the amusements of the Circus were sought, increased with the decline of the empire and the corruption of morals. Ammianus Marcellinus, who wrote in the fourth century of the Christian era, gives us the following description: – “The people spend all their evenings in drinking and gaming, in spectacles, amusements, and shows. The Circus Maximus is their temple, their dwelling-house, their public meeting, and all their hopes. In the Forum, the streets, and squares, multitudes assemble together, and dispute, some defending one thing, and some another. The oldest take the privilege of age, and cry out in the temples and Forum, that the republic must fall, if in the approaching games the person whom they support does not win the prize and first pass the goal. When the wished-for day of the equestrian games arrives, before sunrise all run headlong to the spot, passing in swiftness the chariots that are to run; upon the success of which their wishes are so divided, that many pass the night without sleep.” Lactantius confirms this account, and says that the people, from their great eagerness, often quarrelled and fought.
Fortunately there still exists, about two miles from the walls of Rome, an ancient circus in a high state of preservation; and from this we are enabled to acquire a very good notion of the form and arrangement of such structures. The chief entrance was an opening at the straight end; and on each side of it were six carceres, or starting-places. At the rounded end, or that opposite to the carceres, was the Porta Triumphalis, or Triumphal Gate, by which the victor left the circus; the rest of the enclosed space were the seats for the spectators, raised in rows one above the other. Down the middle of the area, or more properly speaking, rather nearer to one side than the other, ran a raised division, – a sort of thick dwarf wall, called the Spina; equal in length to about two-thirds of the area itself. At each end of this spina was a small meta, or goal, formed of three cones. The meta which approached the triumphal gate was much nearer to it than the other meta was to the carceres. The course which the chariots ran was by the side of the spina, and round the metæ. All these different parts of the circus were variously ornamented; the spina especially was highly decorated, having sometimes in the middle one of those lofty Egyptian obelisks, of which there are more to be seen at this day in Rome, than are assembled anywhere else173.
Besides the Mamertine prisons and the Cloaca Maxima, there are other antiquities at Rome which belong to the early period. Among these are the foundations and great fragments of the ancient buildings of the Capitol. The Capitol-hill is said to form a link between the ancient city and the modern one. – “From an elevated station, about two hundred and fifty feet above the Forum,” says Simond, “the voice of Cicero might have been heard, revealing to the people, assembled before the Temple of Concord, (to which the ruins nearest to us probably belonged,) Catiline’s conspiracy. He might even have been heard in the Tribune of Harangues, situated on the other side of the Forum, and next to the Temple of Jupiter Stator, – of which there are three columns still standing, – taking the oath that he had saved his country, and all the people taking the same oath after him. But the gory head and hand of this saviour of his country might have been seen from our station soon after, nailed to the side of this same tribune, and the same people tamely looking on! Instead of the contending crowds of patriots, conspirators, orators, heroes, and fools, each acting his part, we now saw only a few cows quietly picking up blades of grass among the ruins; beggars, and monks, and asses loaded with bags of puzzolana, and a gang of galley-slaves lazily digging away for antiquities, under the lash of their taskmasters.”
The hill of the Capitol derived its name from the head of Tolus174, and the prediction of universal empire to those who held it. It was famous for a temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, which was the effect of a vow made by Tarquinius Priscus in the Sabine war. But he had scarcely laid the foundations before his death. His nephew, Tarquinius the Proud, finished it with the spoils taken from the neighbouring nations. But upon the expulsion of the kings, the consecration was performed by Horatius the consul. The structure stood on a high ridge, taking in four acres of ground. The front was adorned with three rows of pillars, the other side with two. Its ascent from the ground was by one hundred steps. The prodigious gifts and ornaments, with which it was several times endowed, almost exceed belief. Suetonius tells us that Augustus gave at one time two thousand pounds weight of gold; and a precious stone to the value of five hundred sestertia. Livy and Pliny surprise us with accounts of the brazen thresholds, the noble pillars, that Sylla removed hither from Athens out of the temple of Jupiter Olympius; the gilded roof, the gilded shields, and those of solid silver; the huge vessels of silver, holding three measures; the golden chariot, &c. This temple was first consumed by fire in the Marian war, and then rebuilt by Sylla, who, dying before the dedication, left that honour to Quintus Catulus. This too was demolished in the Vitellian sedition. Vespasian undertook a third, which was burnt down about the time of his death. Domitian raised the last and most glorious of all; in which the very gilding amounted to twelve thousand talents (£2,250,000). He adorned it with some columns of Pentelic marble brought from Athens. Indeed, his extravagance in this and other public works led to that exceeding severity which accompanied the exaction of the capitation tax from the Jewish people. It was the opinion of contemporaries of the emperor, that if he were to reclaim from the gods the sums which he now expended upon them, even Jupiter himself, though he were to hold a general auction in Olympus, would be unable to pay a twelfth of his debts, or, as we should say, one shilling and eightpence in the pound.
If, Cæsar, all thou to the powers hast lent,
Thou should’st reclaim, a creditor content,
Should a fair auction vend Olympus’ hall,
And the just gods be fain to sell their all;
The bankrupt Atlas not a twelfth could sound: —
Who bade the Sire of Gods with man compound?
For Capitolian fanes what to the chief?
What can he pay for the Tarpeian leaf?
What for her double towers the Thunderer’s queen?
Pallas I pass, thy manager serene.
Alcides why, or Phœbus, should I name,
Or the twin Lacons, of fraternal fame?
Or the substructure (who can sum the whole?)
Of Flavian temples to the Latian pole?
Augustus, pious, then, and patient stay:
The chest of Jove possesses not to pay.
Of all the ancient glory of the Capitol,175 nothing now remains but the solid foundation and vast substructions raised on the rock. Not only is the Capitol fallen, but its very name, expressive of dominion, and once fondly considered as an omen of empire, is now almost lost in the semi-barbarous appellation of Campi-doglio. “This place,” says a celebrated French traveller, “which gave law to the universe, where Jupiter had his temple and Rome her senate; from whence of old the Roman eagles were continually flying into every quarter of the globe, and from every quarter of the globe continually winging their way back with victories; whence a single word from the mouth of Scipio, of Pompey, or of Cæsar, quickly reached the most distant nations, menacing their liberty, and deciding on the fate of kings; where the greatest men of the republic, in short, still continued to live after their death in statues, and still to govern the world with the authority of Romans: this place so renowned has lost its statues, its senate, its citadel, its temples; it has retained nothing but its name, so cemented by the blood and tears of nations, that time has not yet been able to disjoin the immortal syllables of which it is composed. It is still called the Capitol. At the Capitol we perceive, in the strongest light, the insignificance of all human things, and the power of fortune.”
The Pantheon is the most perfect of all the remains of ancient Rome, and the only one of the Pagan temples that retains any thing of its original appearance. It was dedicated176 either to Jupiter Ultor, or to Mars and Venus, or, more probably, to all the gods in general. The structure, according to Fabricius, is one hundred and forty feet high, and about the same in breadth; but a later author has increased the number to one hundred and fifty-eight. The roof is curiously vaulted, void places being left here and there for the greater strength.
The statues of all the gods were in this temple; and these, according to their degrees, were of gold, silver, bronze, or marble. The portico is one hundred and ten feet long177, by forty-four in depth, and is supported by sixteen columns of the Corinthian order. Each of the shafts of these columns is of one piece of oriental granite, and forty-two feet in height; the bases and capitals are of white marble. The whole height of the columns is forty-six feet five inches; the diameter, just above the base, is four feet ten inches; and, just beneath the capital, four feet three inches. The interior of the rotunda has a diameter of nearly one hundred and fifty feet.
This building has been generally attributed wholly to Agrippa; but from careful research, Desgodetz asserts that the body of the edifice is of much earlier origin; and that Agrippa only newly modelled and embellished the inside, and added the magnificent portico. The building is circular, with a noble dome, and a fine portico of sixteen pillars of oriental granite. There are no windows, the light being admitted by a circular aperture in the dome. The fine marble with which the walls were encrusted, and the brass which covered the roof, have long since disappeared; the bare bricks alone are left.
As St. Peter’s affords the best sample of modern art in Rome178, so does the Pantheon exhibit the most satisfactory and best-preserved specimen of ancient art; for, notwithstanding the injuries it has sustained by the hands of barbarians of all ages, no signs of natural decay are yet visible; and with this magnificent model before their eyes, it appears strange, that the architects of St. Peter’s should not have accomplished their task more worthily. The Pantheon seems to be the hemispherical summit of a modern temple, taken off and placed on the ground; so it appears to us, at least, accustomed to see cupolas in the former situation only.
“It is built in the dirtiest part of modern Rome,” says the author of Rome in the Nineteenth Century; “and the unfortunate spectator, who comes with a mind filled with enthusiasm, to gaze upon this monument of the taste and magnificence of antiquity, finds himself surrounded by all that is most revolting to the senses, distracted by incessant uproar, pestered by the crowd of clamorous beggars, and stuck fast in the congregated filth of every description that covers the slippery pavement; so that the time he forces himself to spend in admiring its noble portico, generally proves a penance from which he is glad to be liberated, instead of an enjoyment he wishes to protract. We escaped none of these nuisances, except the mud, by sitting in an open carriage to survey it. The smells of the beggars were equally annoying. You may perhaps form some idea of the situation of the Pantheon at Rome, by imagining what Westminster Abbey would be in Covent Garden Market.”
This does not appear, however, to have damped the enthusiasm of Dupaty: – “I first directed my steps,” says he, “towards the Pantheon, dedicated by Agrippa to all the gods, and since, I know not by what pope, to all the saints179. This consecration has preserved the Pantheon from the general pillage and destruction which the other temples have undergone. It has been despoiled of every thing that made it rich; but they have left all that made it great. It has lost its marbles, its porphyry, its alabaster, but it has preserved its dome, its peristyle, and its columns. How magnificent is this peristyle! The eyes are just attracted by eight Corinthian columns, on which rests the pediment of this immortal monument. These columns are beautiful from the harmony of the most perfect workmanship, and the lapse of twenty centuries, which adds to their grandeur, and the awe they inspire. The eye can never tire with mounting with them in the air, and following their descent. They present I know not what appearance of animated life, that creates a pleasing illusion, an elegant shape, a noble stature, and a majestic head, round which the acanthus, with leaves at once so flexible and so superb, forms a crown; which, like that of kings, serves the double purpose of decorating the august head to which it gives a splendour, and disguising the immense weight that loads it. How richly does architecture, which creates such monuments, merit a place among the fine arts!”
The light, as we have before observed, is admitted only by a circular opening in the dome, which is twenty-eight feet in diameter180. Through this aperture a flood of light diffuses itself over the whole edifice, producing a sublime effect, but only showing all its beauties by permitting every passing shower to deluge its gorgeous pavement. The rain is carried off by a drain to the Tiber; but from the low situation of the building in the Campus Martius, the waters of the Tiber, when it is swollen, find their way up the drain, and flood the interior. Myriads of beetles, scorpions, worms, rats and mice, may then be seen retreating before the waters, as they gradually rise from the circumference to the centre of the area, which is a little elevated above the rest of it. “A beautiful effect,” says Dr. Burton, “is produced by visiting the building on these occasions at night, when the moon is reflected upon the water, through the aperture of the dome.”
“The Pantheon retains its majestic portico,” says Mr. Eustace, “and presents its graceful dome uninjured; the pavement, laid by Agrippa, and trodden by Augustus, still forms its floor; the compartments and fluted pillars of the richest marble, that originally lined its walls, still adorn its inward circumference; the deep tints that age has thrown over it, only contribute to raise its dignity, and augment our veneration; and the traveller enters its portal, through which twice twenty generations have flowed in succession, with a mixture of awe and religious veneration. Yet the Pantheon itself has been ‘shorn of its beams,’ and looks eclipsed through the ‘disastrous twilight of eighteen centuries.’”