correspondence in the design, and the partial settlements which have
taken place, are all adverse to the opinion that the whole building was
executed at once, and two circumstances induce me to suppose that the
cell is even posterior to the portico. The first is, that the use of
burnt bricks was only recently introduced into Rome at the time of
Agrippa, as appears from the manner in which Vitruvius speaks of them;
and the first effort would scarcely be one of this magnitude and
importance. My reasons for believing the use of burnt bricks to be
adopted in Rome at so late a period, I mean to give you more in detail
in a future letter. Perhaps we may use a similar argument concerning the
form of the edifice, for though we have no precise idea of the date of
the first introduction of domes, yet it seems probable that it must be
assigned to about this period, and it would not be easy to imagine that
the first erection would be on so large a scale; at the same time I must
acknowledge, that we have no dome remaining of any size, which can put
in a probable claim to a greater antiquity than the Pantheon. The second
circumstance is, that the marble employed in the portico and pronaos, is
the Pentelic, while that within is of Carrara. I do not think the
passage in Pliny determines the first use of Luna, or Carrara marble in
Rome; he may, perhaps, only have alluded to the discovery of a whiter
and more beautiful bed, but I think we have sufficient remains to show
that the employment of Greek marble in Rome, generally preceded that of
the Italian. It has however, been contended, that the body of brickwork
was erected before the portico: that this followed, and that all the
marble finishings of the inside were added afterwards. The argument for
this is the want of any correspondence between the marble finishings,
and the openings and distribution of the brickwork. I will oppose to it
a particularity in the construction of this brickwork. The Romans appear
to have been early accustomed to the use of discharging arches; they
introduced straight arches, (that is, an arrangement of bricks acting
against one another as wedges, but kept in a line, nearly, or quite
straight) over their openings, instead of solid stone lintels; but aware
of the weakness arising from this method of employing the materials,
they formed over them a semicircular arch, by which means the weight of
the superincumbent wall was thrown upon solid parts which were able to
bear it. In the earliest buildings which remain, and in general, even
down to the time of Caracalla, this practice was used reasonably, and
with moderation; but in later times, arches were employed, not for use,
but for affectation; straight arches were employed where there were no
openings, and discharging arches, which threw the weight rather on a
weaker than on a stronger part. The brickwork of the Pantheon displays
abuses of this sort, which is certainly a reason for assigning as late a
date to its erection as is consistent with what we know of its history.
Nevertheless, a cloud of witnesses establish the whole as the work of
Agrippa, and perhaps, all that we ought to conclude from the want of
correspondence in the different parts is, that different architects were
employed, whose views were not altogether the same. Septimius Severus
performed considerable restorations, but principally within side, and we
have nothing to guide us as to the particulars of what was then
executed, except the character of the work itself. This building, which
seems to have contained no woodwork, except perhaps a small portion
entirely concealed in the roof of the portico, is said to have suffered
from fire; one proof among many that I could cite to you, that brick,
stone, and bronze, were anciently combustible. After the transfer of the
seat of empire to Constantinople, the Pantheon became an object, not of
care, but of plunder. Constans robbed it of its covering of bronze
tiles, and other depredations were made on it. About 608, Pope Boniface
IV. consecrated it as a Christian church, but this did not preserve it
from further spoliation. A little plaster now often serves to supply the
place of the metals or marble taken away.
Modern buildings so surround the body of this edifice, that it is only
very imperfectly that we judge of its merits as a whole; enough however
is seen to prove the majestic and impressive character of this simple
form. Its great distinction, in comparing its proportions with those of
modern structures, is in the lowness of the dome, both as a whole, and
in the circular part, which is left exposed. If we consider the roof of
a modern church as a basement, we shall find the proportions of the drum
and cupola more lofty than those of the Pantheon. In St. Peter’s, and in
St. Paul’s, the architects have had recourse to a double, or triple
construction in order to obtain this elevation, without producing
internal deformity, and to this again a lantern is added, in order to
give a still greater elevation to the design. This has been done with
correct judgment, because the lower part of the edifice does not merely
in picturesque effect act as a basement, but because it is united with
the upper into an acutely pyramidal form, which it is important to
preserve. If accessories were added to the Pantheon it would be
necessary to give the general composition a very obtusely triangular
outline. The Gothic artists aspired to a form more acutely triangular
than those of the Italian architects. Each disposition has its beauties;
the Gothic arrangement conveys the idea of power by the appearance of
height, the ancient Roman, by that of extent. The modern Italians have
attempted the union of the two. The obtuse triangle gives more the
impression of strength and durability, and has also the advantage of
producing a building of which a much greater proportion can be applied
to internal use and effect. Three cornices surround the circular part.
Palladio has introduced two stories of pilasters in the upper divisions.
I know not what authority he might have had for this, but what we at
present see is a rough brickwork, which was certainly covered in some
way. The two turrets are modern, but it seems to me there must have been
some additional elevation given to these parts in the original work. All
our modern restorations agree in exhibiting a square mass behind the
portico, which would look particularly bald and disagreeable, especially
as it would be seen over the two pediments. The portico has eight
columns in front, surmounted by a pediment, and is the only antiquity
now remaining here, sufficiently perfect to exhibit the effect of this
simple and beautiful arrangement. We have such things in the recent
architecture of England, and some of them are very handsome, though in
general they want depth. In Italy, I do not believe that it has ever
been imitated by the moderns. We might, perhaps, find a reason for this
in the very existence of such beautiful remains in the buildings of
antiquity, and something must be allowed for the strong predilection for
intricacy of form, which seems always, more or less, to have influenced
the architects of this country. The same perfect simplicity of design is
not preserved within the portico, it is divided by columns into
something like three naves, and the centre of the great niche, on each
side, is opposed to the centre of a column, and not to that of one of
the spaces. The Romans began to spoil Grecian architecture as soon as
they adopted it; substituting variety of form, and richness of material,
to the simple elegance of arrangement, and the delicacy and beauty of
finish which they found in their models. Simplicity may be carried to an
extreme, and persons of the best and purest taste will differ as to the
precise degree of it required. The interior of the portico of the
Pantheon does not pass the limits of what a great number of amateurs
would consider, not merely as an excusable, but as a desirable degree of
intricacy; and compared to modern edifices, to the front of a Roman
church for instance, or to the portico of St. Geneviève, at Paris, it is
extremely simple. The columns are of granite, and it appears that,
originally, those in front were of a granite with white felspar, which
is usually called here oriental granite, and the internal ones of a
granite, or syenite, containing red felspar, which is said to be brought
from Egypt; of the reason of this difference I can give no guess. By a
restoration of modern times, one of the columns of red granite has got
in front. In some of the columns, the granite has scaled off by the
action of the weather, parallel to the curved surface. They are all
finely wrought, the bases and capitals are of white Pentelic marble, and
the latter by no means all of equal excellence in point of execution.
Urban VIII., who restored one of them, has inserted his _bees_ instead
of flowers in the abacus. The pilasters are of Pentelic marble, and in
short all the other ornamental parts belonging to the portico and
pronaos. The marble coating which once covered what is now naked
brickwork, is gone nobody knows where, and the bare walls, and naked
roofs, add to the grandeur of the edifice something of the melancholy of
a ruin. The ceiling of the portico was of gilt bronze, but how this was
disposed is a question which has been much agitated, the probable
opinion is, that it formed a panelled vault over each division. Urban
VIII. took away this bronze, then, as it appears, in a very decayed
state, formed from it the four twisted columns which support the canopy
over the high altar at St. Peter’s, and cast several cannon from the
remainder. One of the _nails_, weighing forty-seven pounds, is said to
be in England; the whole weight of nails was nine thousand three hundred
and seventy-four pounds; the metal altogether weighed four hundred and
fifty thousand two hundred and fifty pounds.
The marble doorway corresponds, both internally and externally, with the
architecture of the portico, and not with that of the Pantheon itself:
the opening is about nineteen feet wide and thirty-eight high, but
within this, are pilasters of bronze which form the actual doorway. On
these hang magnificent doors, also of bronze, and over them is a grating
of the same metal. All these evidently form one thing, and belong to
each other, and probably to the place where they are fixed: though it
has been said that the original ones were carried away by Genseric, and
that these were supplied from some other edifice.
I do not believe there is any person so insensible to the effect of
architecture, as not to feel the surpassing beauty of this building
internally; the simplicity and grace of its form, the beautiful colour
of its marbles, principally of the _giallo antico_, and the delightful
effect of its single central light, force themselves upon our
admiration. The giallo antico is the most beautiful of all coloured
marbles for the purposes of architecture, as its gentle glow is always
harmonious, and the delicate variations of its tint are not such as to
confuse the forms of the mouldings, while at the same time they are
sufficient to relieve the deadness of a surface totally unornamented.
Yet even here, the edifice has faults, and great ones. I do not mean by
this, mere offences against arbitrary rules, but circumstances which are
certainly injurious to its perfection, and to the agreeable impression
on the mind of the spectator. The columns are rather too small in
proportion to the size of the building; the entablature is disagreeably
interrupted by two arches, and these arches on a curved surface are
necessarily supine, that is, the crown falls back behind the springing,
and this gives them an awkward appearance. The space above the columns,
which is a modern alteration, so late as the last century, is altogether
bad. Till then, an attic existed adorned with pilasters, formed not in
relief, but by different coloured marbles. This was attributed to
Septimius Severus, and not generally approved, but it seems to me to
have been well calculated to preserve the general impression of the
building, and to have contributed to give rather an increased value to
the order below.
It would probably be better (internally) to make the upright part of a
building of this sort, somewhat greater than the semidiameter of the
circle on the plan; at least in the present case, the dome itself seems
to come rather too near the eye, and to occupy too much of the view,
especially in the condition it now is, presenting an overwhelming extent
of whitewash. It is supposed that this was also covered with bronze
panels, but the time of their removal seems uncertain. These panels
would probably have followed the disposition of those now existing in
the brickwork and stucco; that is, they must have been in square
coffers, and in such a case the most obvious way of cutting the recesses
is to make them at right angles to the surface of each part; or, to
speak more mathematically, at right angles to the tangents of the
surface, and consequently, all tending to the centre of the curve; here
they are cut in almost vertically, or if they do tend to a common
centre, it is to one below the eye of the spectator standing in the
centre of the room. Some people affect to understand the reason of this;
but the result is distortion, and if really intended to produce any
pleasing optical deception, it must be attributed to great want of
judgment, as it could only succeed from one spot, and must look ill
everywhere else; whereas, without any such contrivance, the spectator
himself would at once make allowance for situation, and the mind would
be satisfied; for in architecture, and probably in all the fine arts, it
is often rather what we understand than what we see, that produces the
sensation of pleasure. In unusual situations some allowance may be
permitted, but it should always be so limited, that a moderately
practised eye will not perceive it. If, instead of being drawn to the
centre of the hemisphere, which as I have said before, is the most
obvious method of forming them, the lines of the recesses had been
directed to a point eighteen or twenty feet below it, it is possible
that they would have appeared to tend more correctly to that centre,
than if they had been really drawn to it; but as they are, every body at
once perceives that they are not so drawn. These panels are omitted for
a circle of considerable width round the opening in the centre, but we
cannot doubt that this part also, had originally its share of
decoration. The little altars are all bad in design, and worse in
execution, but not all equally so: the best of them are usually
attributed to Septimius Severus.
I cannot leave the building without noticing some particulars of less
consequence, which deserve notice, because in such a building, the
defects as well as the beauties become lessons, and it is necessary, to
an architect at least, carefully to examine and separate one from the
other; for oddly as it sounds in theory, everybody knows that we have a
strong tendency in practice, to copy without discrimination. In the
interior order, the corona is too small, and the projection of the sima
too great, giving to the cornice a thin and wiry edge. This appears to
have resulted from a feeling common to the Roman artists, who
endeavoured to produce a broad line of shade as high as possible on the
cornice, while the Greeks on the contrary, endeavoured to obtain there,
a breadth of light, with only one or two narrow, but distinct and
sharply marked lines of shadow. In this instance, from the lofty
position of the opening, the first distinct light is on the uncut dentil
band, and here it is rather a defect than a merit. The mouldings are
generally rather small; the panelling of the soffite of the cornice is
in oblongs, not in squares, and this displeases, and the execution is
not very perfect. In our books we usually see the curves of the
mouldings described by portions of circles, but this is rarely the case.
I think they were drawn by hand to please the eye of the artist, and not
according to any system. On the roof of the building we still see some
lead of the repairs of 1451, and the ancient marble slabs of the
platform immediately above the upper cornice remain under the lead, but
broken, and without the cover-tiles. Round the central opening parts of
the ancient bronze cornice remain, and some of the gilding with which it
was enriched.
In our way home we may stop to look at the Basilica of Antoninus, now
used as the custom-house. It consists of a range of eleven fine, but
much injured Corinthian columns. The frieze and cornice are modern, the
former is swelled, and as it is of stucco, and shows no joints, you are
assured by the Romans that it is all of one piece of stone. They pay the
same compliment to the doorway of the Palazzo Sciarra, consisting of two
columns, with their entablature, pilasters, &c.; because, being well
executed, the joints are not readily distinguishable. On passing to the
inside, we are struck with the vast masses of stone and rubble-work
suspended over our heads, but nothing in fact remains erect but this
range of columns, whose spaces are now filled up with modern chambers,
and the part supported by them.
LETTER XXV.
SAINT PETER’S.
_Rome, March, 1817._
AFTER a view of the principal antiquities, the attention of a stranger
is naturally directed towards the Vatican; and as I gave you a promise
some time ago to send you the result of my examination of St. Peter’s,
and to explain to you why it looks smaller than it is, I am now about to
fulfil my engagement to the best of my ability. In order however, not
altogether to abandon my usual course, I will first give a sketch of its
history, which may save you the trouble of hunting it out in Bonanni and
Fontana; for what I can communicate on the subject will be principally
taken from these authors, with a little assistance now and then from
Milizia. I intend in my next letter to give you a general view of the
ancient basilicas, and I shall reserve for that, my remarks on the old
church built by Constantine on this spot. In the time of Nicolas V. (A.
D. 1447) it was verging to ruin, and that pontiff undertook to erect a
new building on such a scale, and with such accompaniments, that even
the present work, with all its appendages, and the adjoining palace of
the Vatican, are hardly equal to it. Three broad and straight streets,
with porticos on each side, were to have conducted to the church. This
was to have been formed on the most magnificent scale, and finished with
the richest materials: adjoining would have been a palace large enough
to afford accommodation to the pope and all his court; to all the
cardinals and their attendants; to various officers of government; and
besides this, spacious apartments for as many sovereigns, with their
numerous suites, as could be ever at one time at Rome: add to all this,
pleasure-grounds, gardens, and fountains, and a great theatre for the
ceremonies of coronation. A Florentine artist, Bernardo Rossellini, made
the designs for these vast edifices; but the Pope died, and the idea was
abandoned. Julius II. resumed it, as far as the erection of a new
church, and invited different artists to present to him their plans.
Such a competition took place on this occasion as is not to be seen in
these degenerate days: Bramante; Giuliano di San Gallo; Fra Giacomo, or
perhaps rather Fra Giocondo, as it seems to be the man whose life is
sketched under that name by Milizia; Peruzzi; Raphael, and J. Battista
Berti, produced their designs; but that of Bramante was preferred: his
plan however has not, I believe, been preserved, and we can only form
some judgment of it from that of Raphael, which has been published by
Serlio, and which according to that author, was formed on that of his
predecessor. Bramante began to clear the ground and to prepare for the
work in 1506, but according to Milizia the edifice was not begun till
1513. This artist raised the piers of the dome as high as the cornice;
and turned the arches upon them; he also carried up the walls of the
central tribune, forming the head of the cross; but as he died in 1514,
he had not time to perform any very extensive works; and both Julius and
himself seem to have been more anxious to see the effect of a part, than
to proceed regularly with the whole design.
Raphael’s design presents to our view a Latin cross, with side aisles
extending the whole length of the building, and each of the tribunes
terminating in a semicircle: behind these tribunes, and not connected
with the aisles of the building, were galleries of the same form,
divided from the body of the church by piers and columns, the object of
which to me is not very intelligible: and I have seen no elevation or
section, to enable me to understand their effect, except as they seem to
be preserved in the design of Antonio Sangallo; they are there lower
than the other parts of the building, though the want of elevation is
masked externally by the upper order. The portico is composed of three
ranges, each of twelve columns, forming a parallelogram, but not placed
at equal distances; some medals of Julius II. and of Leo X., are
supposed to exhibit the front of Bramante’s building, but the figure
given in them has no similarity to this portico of Raphael. The dome
published by Serlio is that of Bramante; it would have been low compared
to that which has actually been erected; single, and surrounded with a
colonnade of single Corinthian columns.
Leo X. appointed Giuliano di Sangallo and his younger brother Antonio
architects of St. Peter’s, in conjunction with Raphael; but Milizia
tells us that the elder Sangallo, advanced in years, and oppressed with
disease, refused the employment. From this period to 1520, it does not
seem that any thing was done, except strengthening the erections of
Bramante, whose piers were neither by their mass, nor the perfection of
their workmanship, calculated to support the weight intended to be
placed upon them; this strengthening however was not such as to alter
their form materially. After Raphael’s death in 1520, Baldassare Peruzzi
was appointed architect. He reduced the Latin cross to a Greek one by
shortening the nave, and terminating it with a semicircle, so as to make
all the arms precisely alike, with an entrance in each. He also appears
to have made some changes in the smaller parts, if we may trust to
Serlio’s miserable engravings. Leo died in 1521; but though we hear much
of the expenses incurred in the prosecution of the work during his
pontificate, we are ignorant of the state in which he left it. Peruzzi
suffered greatly at the famous sack of Rome by the Germans in 1527, and
afterwards lived in great poverty till 1536. The situation of the Roman
pontiffs at that period was not such as to permit them to proceed with
their building.
Antonio Sangallo, nephew of the preceding architects of that name,
succeeded. This architect greatly increased the extent of the design, by
adding a large edifice at the end of the nave, with two lofty detached
steeples, and thus making the outside form that of a Latin cross, but
without changing the general shape of the inside; he proposed to close
up the openings from the tribune into the semicircular gallery behind
it, leaving only three small doorways; the dome was to have been
ornamented with two rows of columns and arches, but it still remained
single, and the internal height corresponded with that of the outside.
In order to perform all this, he again strengthened the foundations.
The model of this stupendous design, although made by the hands of
Labacco, who was servant of Sangallo, cost 4,184 crowns; it is preserved
in the present church, and is itself a building which may deserve some
description. The plan, as I have already said, is a Greek cross, with
arms of considerable length, each terminating in a semicircle. The
angles of this simple form are occupied by four other Greek crosses, so
that the construction appears to depend on sixteen masses. Four of
these, each of which is a square with one angle cut away, support the
dome. It is said that in Bramante’s design these were to have been
hollow; but the model exhibits no opening into them. Eight other masses
are perforated, to correspond with the circular corridors behind the
tribunes. These do not shew their whole width towards the great cross,
the centre of the semicircle being brought a little inwards. The four
remaining masses which form the angles of the general square, are each
hollow, and crowned with an octagonal turret. In the execution of the
building the external circuit has been much contracted, and the
corridors round the semicircles entirely suppressed; but in other
respects this plan is very nearly the same as that of the present
church. Immediately in front is another large edifice, forming rather a
disproportionate vestibule. It is perforated in both directions by a
large open arch, and flanked by two lofty detached towers, whose height
is equal to that of the central cupola with its lantern and ornaments.
[Illustration:
J. Hawksworth Sculp.
MODEL OF S^T. PETERS AT ROME.
_London, Published by J & A Arch. Cornhill, March 1^{st}. 1828._]
The body of the building is ornamented with two orders, Doric below and
Ionic above. Between them is an enormous Attic which might itself be
called an order. The towers have a second range of Ionic semi-columns
and one of Corinthian. They are then contracted to an octagon, and
afterwards become round; in this part we find a circle of sixteen
detached Corinthian columns, with their entablature and a balustrade
above. On the balustrade, perpendicularly over each column, is a conical
ornament, eight larger cones rise from the wall of the interior
cylinder, and a still larger crowns the whole edifice. This apparent
tendency to run up into cones harmonizes admirably with the lofty
proportions of the campanili, and produces a splendour, and liveliness
of effect, which would be entirely lost with a common sloping roof, or
with a cupola. Indeed the whole of the upper part is exceedingly
beautiful. The central division of the façade exhibits two large arches,
one over the other, and a pediment at top. On each side is a division
not much smaller, which also has a pediment, but not placed so high, and
we see behind it an octangular turret. The large central arch has a
magnificent effect; but it would have had it in still greater degree if
it had been larger, and in one height. Yet perhaps this would not have
been in harmony with the general character of the building, where
magnificence is obtained by the multiplicity of the parts, rather than
by their individual dimensions. Two ranges of arches surround the
cupola. One in the upright of the drum, and the other in the height of
the curve. The lantern is very large, and consequently, but a small
portion of the cupola is exhibited, which perhaps adds to its apparent
solidity, and to the majesty of the edifice. The decorations of the
lantern correspond with those of the summits of the campanili, but as
the parts have a greater extent to the same elevation, the perfect
harmony of the composition is still preserved.