inscription over the gate, stands on the edge of this plain, at some
distance from the high road. The cross road which conducts to it is bad,
but is passable by a carriage: a paved road from Monte Rosi has been
suffered to decay. The first object which strikes the traveller is a
perpendicular face of rock, full of niches and ancient tombs, on the
left of the road. We discover traces of columns cut in the rock, and
pediments are frequent. Sometimes the form of an arch is counterfeited.
Several recesses remain, which were probably occupied by tablets with
inscriptions, but the tablets themselves are all gone. A narrow valley
divides these monuments from an insulated hill or rock, whose
perpendicular sides are perhaps as full of tombs, and niches, as the
preceding; but they are in great measure obscured by shrubs and ivy. The
principal object in this mass is an amphitheatre cut in the tufo. It is
not perfectly regular, for there are two precinctions in some parts, and
in others only one; and there are also, in parts where the hill is most
elevated, indications of columns on the surface of the rock, which here
rises considerably above the highest step. Not content with thus cutting
the steps in the substance of the hill, the authors have made a
subterraneous corridor and vomitories. In a few places we find a little
brickwork, to supply deficiencies in the natural mass, and there
probably has been more, yet except the wearing away of the steps, the
whole construction is nearly perfect.
In another part of this hill is a little subterranean church, consisting
of a nave and side-aisles. The vestibule is an ancient tomb, and a
tradition, or invention, of ancient martyrs here imprisoned, has given a
motive to the formation of the church. Sutri itself is seated on a long
rocky point, and here and there a fragment of the ancient wall remains.
The town stands on a perpendicular rock for nearly the whole circuit,
and chambers, or ornaments, have been cut into it; but not to the same
degree as in the eminences before mentioned. In one place we observed
the representation of a sort of grating. We met with nothing worthy of
particular notice in the town itself, but beyond it, there has been a
magnificent bridge, erected in the eighteenth century, which united the
town with the adjoining hills. This was ruined by the French, (in 1798,
I believe) who also destroyed great part of the town; as was likewise
the case at Ronciglione. We had only allotted a few hours to Sutri, but
the cuttings in the rock are so numerous and so extensive, that this
place would offer plenty of employment for a day, independent of drawing
and measuring. Sutri was an Etruscan city, and though I will not vouch
to you that all these monuments are prior to the dominion of the Romans,
yet I think it probable that some of them are of a very early date, and
they carry back the imagination to a period beyond authentic history,
and excite those vague dreams of ancient civilization and splendour in
which it is so delightful to indulge. The situation is very pleasant,
the vegetation rich and luxuriant, and the scenery striking and
picturesque. We observed no antiquity at Monte Rosi, except some parts
of the pavement of a Roman road, but proceeded to Baccano, where we
stopped for the night. It is an almost solitary inn, in the midst of a
naked, little, round valley, which perhaps like so many others in this
part of the world, has once been the crater of a volcano. After supper,
at about nine o’clock, the waiter came in to tell us that it was not
just to sit up so late, and consume his master’s wood and candles. Next
morning (the 31st) we again started at half past six, and saw Rome, or
at least the dome of St. Peter’s, from the summit of the first hill. The
country became even more desolate, yet there is no dead flat; the soil
does not seem bad, and the parts which are cultivated, and still more
the entire cultivation of the same sort of land in and about Rome,
announce that we must not seek in natural causes alone for this
desolation. About four miles from Rome the country improves again, and
we have some fine views in approaching the city, with a foreground of
rugged cork trees, and bushes of ilex; broken ground and woody hollows;
but so many reflections rush into the mind on entering Rome, that one
has hardly time to consider whether it is beautiful or not. We entered
at the Porta del Popolo, at about eleven o’clock in the morning, and had
to go through the accustomed ceremonies at the custom-house; but having
brought you to Rome I will now conclude my letter.
LETTER XXIII.
ROMAN ANTIQUITIES.
_Rome, January, 1817._
I ARRIVED at Rome, as I have already said, on the last day of the year,
1816, after a morning of continued eager expectation. In spite of all
that may have been seen elsewhere of magnificent buildings, and of all
the views and drawings which have been published of the eternal city,
ROME is still a new world to an architect. You may know in detail the
appearance of every building here, but you can feel nothing, you can
imagine nothing, of the effect produced, on seeing, on finding yourself
thus amongst them. To walk over the ancient Forum, and with a mind
already raised by the indistinct and crowded associations of all the
great and wonderful events which have originated on this spot, and of
the great men who have ennobled it; to contemplate on one side the
Capitol, with its temples and triumphal arches, testimonials of former
splendour; and on the other the Curia hostilia, the temple of Jupiter
Stator, and the arched terraces which once supported the proud palace of
the Cæsars, is an intellectual treat, to be enjoyed, to be imagined,
nowhere but at Rome. A vague feeling of admiration mixes itself with
every perception, and every recollection; and the mind forcibly rejects
all inharmonious ideas. It is not any one thing that you see, any more
than one point of history that you have to remember; multitudes of
fragments are included in one view, not very perfect and distinct in
their forms, yet sufficient to excite the imagination. They crowd on the
eye, as the scenes of history on the memory. The strong emotion and the
high tone of feeling excited, leave no power of criticising. There seems
to be a magic in the mere names. Proceeding in your walk in the
direction of the Via Sacra, you leave on the left, the temple of
Antoninus and Faustina, that of Romulus and Remus, and other fragments
without a name. Afterwards, also on the left, is the temple of Peace,
and you pass through the arch of Titus, both monuments of the
destruction of Jerusalem: beyond are the temples of Venus and Rome, and
at the distance of a few steps, the vast extent of the Coliseum. Nor
have you to hunt out these objects with difficulty one after the other;
they burst upon the eye almost at one view, and demand, or rather
extort, your attention; and that view is usually almost the first upon
which a stranger fixes his mind. Whether this building was a temple, or
that a curia, may be questioned; but you cannot doubt for a moment, that
each is a Roman work; and the ruin of some magnificent edifice.
Afterwards you may ascend the Palatine, and pace over the extensive
remains of the palace of the Cæsars. The long vaults, where a partial
destruction admits a gleam of daylight to their deep recesses; the
terraces, which seem to bid defiance to time; the half domes, and solid
piers, attesting the grandeur of their ancient construction; the walls
fringed with shrubs, principally evergreen; the very intricacy of the
plan, and the mixture of kitchen gardens and vineyards, where once the
voice of harmony resounded through lofty halls decorated with the finest
productions of art; all impress the mind with the recollection of past
glory. But the feeling here is very different from that excited in the
Forum. There, the recollection of the lofty virtues of these magnanimous
republicans, exalts every feeling into admiration; here, the shapeless
masses of ruin, half concealed by vegetation, accord better with the
melancholy felt in contemplating the decay of Rome, and the wasteful and
destructive luxury which followed, or accompanied the erection of these
palaces. But the views from the Palatine are no less striking than those
within its walls. Below is the temple of Romulus; farther on to the
left, that of Vesta; between these is the arch of Janus; the temple of
Castor and Pollux was in the immediate neighbourhood; and in another
place that of Apollo. All these names, and almost every inch of ground
is disputed by the Roman antiquaries; but about such dissensions the
imagination does not trouble herself. The form of the ground is still
seen in the Circus maximus, but the buildings are gone. The Aventine
rises above all the other objects, crowned with convents and churches,
composed of the spoils of the temples which once adorned it. To the left
of the Aventine is an enormous mass of building, which once contained
the baths of Caracalla. The lower story is supposed to be filled up; the
upper is uncovered, but the vast piers, and solid piles of masonry,
which are sufficient to explain very intelligibly the whole plan of the
central building, impress forcibly the imagination. Nearer, but still
more to the left, are the arch of Constantine, and the Coliseum; of
which you here trace the form, and see the whole extent. Beyond are
numerous fragments of great buildings, one knows not of what. Turning
again to the north, and retracing the Via Sacra, by which you came to
the Palatine; you fix your eye on the bold elevation of the Capitol, and
figure to yourself what it must have appeared, unincumbered with the
rubbish of modern buildings, when all its temples were entire, each
surrounded by stately colonnades, and the whole crowned with the
splendid fane of Jupiter Capitolinus. There were probably many
inconsiderable temples in Rome, but here was a collection of fine ones;
many might have been in bad taste, but individual defects were lost in
the splendour of the whole display. Besides, the simple form of the
ancient temple precluded such extravagances as are found in modern
architecture; and the form of the ground gave to such a collection its
full effect. This is the case not only on the Capitol, but in the other
parts of Rome; and nothing has astonished me more, than the numerous
fine points of view which the ancient city must have afforded. The hills
were insignificant in themselves, but they seem made to display the
buildings to the greatest advantage; and one grand object rising behind
another, and varying in combination at every new point of view, must
have exhibited a scene of splendour and magnificence, unparalleled not
only in fact, but in the descriptions of the most luxuriant fancy. The
hills and country about Rome are well disposed for architecture, and for
uniting its objects with those of the landscape. They are not high, and
therefore the dreary waste of the Campagna is not obtrusive; while the
broken foreground is richly adorned with evergreen and deciduous trees,
and especially with the picturesque stone pine. The flowing line of
Monte Albano, and the bolder and more irregular forms of the Apennines,
unite to form an inexhaustible fund of variety and interest.
But all this is too vague and general to give you any distinct ideas,
and I must endeavour, by a greater degree of precision, to carry you
with me through this immense museum.
The Guide-books profess to conduct you regularly and systematically
through Rome in eight days; and some of our countrymen boast that they
have beaten the antiquaries, and done it in six. For my part, the first
eight days I spent in Rome were all hurry and confusion. I could attend
to nothing systematically, nor even examine any thing with accuracy; a
sort of restless eagerness to see every thing, and know something about
every thing, gave me no power of fixing my attention on any one
particular. I have just given you a sketch of the chaos of objects which
occupied my mind, but before I descend to individuals, let me tell you,
what indeed is of more importance to me than to you, that I have taken a
pleasant lodging of two good sized rooms, for which I am to pay nine
scudi a month, on the Trinità de’ Monti. On my first arrival I lodged at
Franz’s, a large inn kept by a German of that name, at the upper end of
the Via de’ Condotti, almost close to the Piazza di Spagna. From this
Piazza a most magnificent flight of a hundred and twenty-two steps,
leads you to the church of Trinità de’ Monti. I had heard of the steps
up to the Capitol, but never of these, which by the bye are much more
showy, and I did not doubt on my arrival that I was at the foot of the
ancient Capitol. All these steps I have to ascend to my lodging, and
about sixty more within the house; but to reward my labours, when I am
at home, I command a fine prospect over the greatest part of Rome, and
perhaps the very best distant view of the Vatican. Mr. Sharp, my old
companion in the south of France, assisted me in my search for lodgings;
he had changed his, and I had no small difficulty to find him out. In
this inquiry I received however, the clearest directions possible,
though to streets which appear to have no existence. I am persuaded,
that if you were to Italianize the name of a London street, and ask for
_Via Peccadilla_, you would receive a very distinct and particular
direction.
I have at length gained some degree of composure, and have examined a
few things more at leisure, but still without any order. That of place
seems to have no interest; that of antiquity, is too abstruse and
difficult. I cannot therefore, pretend to give you any regular and
connected view of Rome; nor can I take you with me from day to day, as I
often run from one thing to another, and return again repeatedly to the
principal objects. I shall therefore pursue a plan which may have
regularity enough to unite the principal objects into groups, whose
individuals may reflect some light upon each other; without attempting
any more general arrangement: and leave something both of the
composition of the groups, and of the order in which I speak of them, to
that in which I have seen them.
[Illustration:
A.B. Clayton del. from Sketches by J. Woods. Edwards, Sculp.
TEMPLE OF JUPITER TONANS.
_London._ _Published by J&A Arch. Cornhill. March 1^{st}. 1828._]
There are so many objects of high interest in Rome, that a stranger
hardly knows to which first to turn himself; but no one will long
postpone a visit to the Forum, now called the Campo Vaccino, _i. e._ the
Cattle Field; not the market, but the place where the long horned oxen,
which have drawn the carts of the country people to Rome, wait till
their masters are ready to go back again. This piece of ground does not
precisely correspond with that of the old Forum Romanum, but it contains
nearly the whole of it, and might without any impropriety be called by
the same name. To reach this I crossed the Capitoline hill, whose modern
buildings I shall leave for a future opportunity, and passing under the
porticos of Michael Angelo, came out above the Temple of Concord. On the
left are the foundations, and great fragments of the ancient buildings
of the Capitol. The latter are principally seen within the prisons, at
the back of the present senate-house; the former consist of great blocks
of peperino, and seem to form the face of the hill. Above this was
anciently the Tabularium, or record-office, the front of which consisted
of a range of piers and arches, with a sort of Doric pilaster, and a
capital more singular than beautiful. The material, and the style of the
work, seem to announce its erection during the time of the republic; but
the place having been used as a salt magazine under Nicolas the Fifth,
about the middle of the fifteenth century, this substance is said to
have destroyed the piers, and rendered it necessary to take them down,
and replace them by the continued wall, which now exists; some capitals,
and nearly the whole line of the architrave, are all that remain; above
these nothing is exhibited externally of the ancient edifice. Within are
masses of masonry, and portions of vaults mixed with the modern
constructions.
Just at the foot of the hill is the Temple of Jupiter Tonans, three
columns of which only remain. Formerly, this was buried by the rubbish
forming the slope of the hill, to two thirds of the height of the
columns, the pavement of this temple having been about 36 feet below
that of the tabularium. The French have cleared away the ground, and
various buildings, and in this operation have exposed the above
described basement of the Capitol, of which only a very small fragment
could previously have been visible. The French conferred, says my friend
Mr. Sharp, a great many benefits on the Italians, but the greatest of
all was in going away. An antiquary might be disposed to wish, that this
had been deferred two or three years more, as far at least as relates to
Rome. The excavations are not however, entirely discontinued, but they
are not carried on with the same spirit as formerly. Palladio has made
of this building a magnificent octastyle, dipteral temple, with nine
columns on the sides, and with the side intercolumniations equal to
those of the front. One is inclined to hope at least, that these early
Italian architects had better grounds to go upon for their restorations
than the imperfect fragments which remain to the present day; but here
unfortunately his testimony is contradicted by the existing remains, for
there is not space for his building between the remaining portion of the
front, and the foundations of the Capitol. Uggeri, with more
probability, and assisted by an ancient medal, has restored it as a
hexastyle, peripteral temple, with smaller intercolumniations on the
sides than in the front, as is the fact, with respect to the two columns
of the flank, which are still erect. These columns afford a curious
testimony of the luxury of magnificence, if I may use the expression, of
the Roman architecture: the spaces between the dentils are very deeply
cut upwards and backwards, to produce, I suppose, a depth of shade; the
ovoli are laid on leaves, and hollowed out behind, so as to touch only
at two points; and on the face of these ovoli, there is a minute carving
of flowers. The frieze is ornamented with the insignia of sacrifice, and
the _patera_, the _vase_, and the _helmet_, of the high priest, are all
ornamented with minute carving, which is undistinguishable from below.
That on the helmet of the priest represents a winged thunderbolt, and
serves to identify the temple. In the front, the architrave and frieze
are united in one large tablet, to receive the inscription; but this was
probably an alteration on occasion of some repairs. An ancient ascent to
the Capitol, the pavement of which is now exposed, passed close by this
temple, but several feet below its pavement, and did not leave room for
a regular flight of steps in the front; some steps therefore are put in
between the columns of the portico, and the others ascended laterally on
the side of the building, ending in a platform extending along the
front, at the foot of the first mentioned steps. There are some remains
of the construction which supported these steps, and of the basement
mouldings, yet their arrangement is not perfectly clear.
Almost as near to the eye as the temple of Jupiter Tonans, stands that
which used to have the name of Concord, but which now is rather
attributed to Fortune. That it was not the temple of Concord, is however
much more certain than what it was. The inscription _Senatus populusque
Romanus incendio consumptum restituit_, has been thought to indicate a
republican æra, since there is no mention of any emperor; but the
architecture contradicts any such idea, and the present remains are now,
with more probability, assigned to the fourth century. They consist of
eight granite columns on an elevated basement, which is nearly hid by
the accumulation of rubbish. One of these columns appears to be
inverted; the other materials are very various, and among them are
fragments of some edifice of a better period, and some very rude
attempts at imitating them. Even these imitations seem not necessary to
the edifice, and perhaps are fragments themselves, not much preceding
the destruction of the temple by fire. The capitals are singular; they
have been called Ionic, but that epithet can hardly be applied to them
with justice. Some of them have belonged to a prior building, and are
pretty well executed; others are ill-made imitations to complete the
number wanted.
At a very little distance is the Arch of Septimius Severus, famous among
other things for the erasure of the name of Geta, which is traced in the
inscription. These triumphal arches are not in a very pure style of
architecture, but they are rich and handsome objects; four projecting
columns adorn each face, and the entablature breaks round each of them.
Above these columns are supposed to have been statues, and in the arch
of Constantine such still exist, but here they must have had a singular
effect, as the tablet and inscription extend the whole length of the
building, and the statues would have interrupted, and in part even
concealed it. The top is supposed to have been surmounted by a triumphal
car. The shafts of these columns are of cipollino, and in some of them
large pieces of the marble have scaled off, and they have been repaired
with brick, which has given occasion to some of my countrymen to
discover that the marble columns of Rome were merely brick, coated with
marble; the whole face of the work between the columns is covered with
bas-reliefs, now much decayed, and probably always very bad, both in
design and execution, yet contributing to the magnificence of the
edifice.
At a very little distance from this arch, but not coming into any
general view, are the Mamertine prisons, supposed to have been built
originally by Ancus Martius, but an inscription assigns the present
edifice to C. Vibius Rufus, and M. Cocceius Nerva, in the year of Rome
775. They consist of two dungeons, one below the other, in the lowest of
which is a small spring, said to have arisen miraculously at the command
of St. Peter, in order to baptize the keepers, Saints Processus and
Martinianus, whom he had converted. These dungeons are covered with a
vault, which as well as the walls, is of peperino, and if the tradition
which assigns their erection to Ancus Martius be very uncertain, the
style and materials of the work announce the early origin at least of
all the lower part.
On the other side of the arch of Septimius, is the column dedicated to
the emperor Phocas, as has been recently determined from an inscription
exposed by the excavations made there, at the expense of the Duchess of
Devonshire. The column itself has been taken from some more ancient
building, and is placed on a pedestal, with steps up to it on all sides.
Fragments of two other honorary columns, and the pedestals supporting
them, and appearing to have been arranged symmetrically with this, have
also been discovered, and numerous fragments, some of them of good
architecture, have been dug up here, but these are entirely unconnected
with the column, or with one another. Marble fragments of beautiful
architecture, on the slope of the hill above the arch of Septimius, are
thought to announce the situation of the true temple of Concord, but
fragments alone remain.
These are the nearer objects of this most interesting view; at a greater
distance are the temple of Saturn, that of Antoninus and Faustina, of
Romulus and Remus. I give you the names by which they are usually known,
without attending to their correctness. Then appear some fragments, of
nobody knows what. The temple of Peace, the Coliseum, the arch of Titus,
the Palatine hill, half covered with shapeless masses of ruin, the Curia
Hostilia, and the three beautiful columns which remain of the temple of
Jupiter Stator. You seem to burst at once upon the glories of the
ancient city, but prostrate in the dust we admire the mighty limbs and
giant bulk. I shall not confine myself to the appearance of these as
seen from one spot, but carry you to each.
The Temple of Saturn, or the Ærarium, or the Basilica of Paulus Æmilius,
or the Church of St. Adrian, which is certainly an old name, presents
nothing ancient but a lofty front of brickwork, exemplifying the Roman
passion for introducing blind arches, even when useless, or injurious. I
shall say more of these hereafter, but the construction is of imperial
Rome, and has no pretension to a republican date. The erection or
transformation into a church, is attributed to Pope Onorius the First.