Rome is situated close to the city walls. Here, on rising ground,
overlooking the vast Campagna, stands S. Giovanni in Laterano, "omnium
urbis et orbis ecclesiarum mater et caput." Dedicated originally to
Christ the Saviour, and afterwards in the sixth century to S. John, this
fine basilica is of much greater, archæological interest than S.
Peter's. The present building dates from the seventeenth century. All
that remains of the once attached Benedictine monastery is to be found
in the very beautiful cloisters, which are a transition between
Romanesque and Gothic. The church itself has a fine eastern façade--it
orientates to the west--of five arches with an intervening gallery. In
the _atrium_ is a statue of Constantine found in his _Thermæ_. The
interior of the basilica is simple, with a very good _opus Alexandrinum_
floor. The aisles are double, and are separated from the nave by eleven
bays on each side. Colossal statues of Apostles and Prophets find places
at the bases of the pillars. The transepts and tribune are raised above
the body of the church. In the centre, the high altar is situated under
an ornate Gothic canopy. This contains a tabernacle, erected partly at
the expense of Charles V. of France, to receive the busts of SS. Peter
and Paul which were found amidst the ruins of the older church. A few
years ago the tribune was extended and beautifully inlaid with mosaic
carrying out a design of the thirteenth century. Michael Angelo is said
to have designed the flat ceiling of the nave, and there is a wooden
figure of S. John by Donatello in the sacristy.
In the Piazza di S. Giovanni in Laterano stands a building that contains
the Scala Santa, a flight of steps from Pilate's palace in Jerusalem,
which Christ is said to have ascended. They are covered with wood, and
may only be ascended on the knees. Light enters through barred windows,
and partly illumines the solemn gloom of this deeply interesting place.
At the top of the stairs is the Sancta Sanctorum, on the architrave
above which is engraved in Latin: "There is not a place in the whole
world more holy." This was the old chapel of the Popes and the only part
of the Pontifical palace that the fire of 1308 did not consume. The
present Palazzo del Laterano was built on part of the site of that which
this fire destroyed. The old palace was the residence of the Popes from
the time of Constantine until their migration to Avignon. The building
that now enjoys the above title is a museum, wherein are many fine
pieces of pagan sculpture as well as other interesting antiquities. The
baptistery of the Lateran stands to the west of the basilica. The
interior of this octagonal building is simple but not well lighted.
Eight porphyry columns support an antique architrave; and eight smaller
columns of marble rise from this and support the dome. The font is in
the centre of the floor, which is lower than the pavement near the
walls. It is of green basalt, and is supposed to be that in which the
Anglo-Saxon king Caedwalla was baptised in the year 689. Rienzi bathed
in it the night before he summoned the Pope and the Electors of Germany
to appear before him for judgment.
Another and more magnificent basilica is that of S. Paolo fuori, which
is situated two miles out of Rome on the Via Ostia. It is the grandest
of the many basilicas Rome possesses. Constantine erected a _tropæum_,
or sepulchral monument over the spot where Lucina buried the apostle's
body; and in 386 the Consul Sallustrius by the Emperor's order began to
build the church, which was known as the Basilica Ostiensis. The little
town that arose around this sacred spot was on the banks of the Tiber,
and from its position was subject to raids from the Saracens and other
marauders who sailed up the stream. John VIII. in the ninth century
enclosed the basilica and most of the surrounding buildings within a
fortified wall. For fifteen hundred years this grand church has had as
venerated a shrine as S. Peter's. The kings of England were its
protectors until the Reformation severed their connection with the Roman
creed; and sovereigns from all parts of Christendom came here to
worship. On July 17, 1823, the pine roof caught fire and fell into the
nave. The heat from the smouldering mass was so great that some of the
columns split and the whole fabric was almost entirely destroyed. Pius
IX. presided at a great function in 1854, when prelates from all over
the world assisted at the consecration of the restored building. Eighty
monoliths of Simplon granite, brought down Lake Maggiore to the river Po
and then by sea up the Tiber, sustain the roof of the nave and aisles. A
series of Papal portraits form a frieze above them. Magnificent columns
of Egyptian alabaster presented by Mehemet Ali, Viceroy of Egypt,
support the _baldacchino_ over the high altar. The bases of these
columns are malachite, and were given by the Czar Nicholas of Russia.
Many other portions of this noble church were given by other princes.
The dismay and regret at its destruction were universal. The body of S.
Paul rests in the _Confessio_ beneath the altar. The very beautiful
cloisters of the old Benedictine monastery, now a barrack, vie with
those at Monreale in Sicily, which are illustrated in another chapter.
The noble _atrium_ at the west end of the basilica is almost complete,
and when it is finished and opened out to the river, S. Paolo fuori will
once more take rank as one of the grandest ecclesiastical edifices in
Italy. Among the other basilicas of Rome, S. Maria Maggiore, or the
Basilica Liberiana, is the largest, and commands a fine position on the
Esquiline. S. Sabina on the Aventine, that hill which is still almost
entirely covered by gardens, is connected with the Dominican monastery
that adjoins it. The church possesses a wonderfully carved wooden door
and an orange tree in its court which grew from an orange pip that S.
Dominic planted. S. Agnese fuori is close to one of the entrances to the
numerous catacombs. Into this church every twenty-first day of January
two lambs are brought to be blessed. After the ceremony is over they are
presented to his holiness at the Vatican, and then sent to the convent
of S. Cecilia-Trastevere. Here the good nuns weave their wool into
_palliums_, which are subsequently worn by different metropolitans of
the church.
The only Gothic church in Rome is that of S. Maria sopra Minerva. It
contains the tomb-slab of Fra Angelico, whose face, rendered in marble,
has a very sad and rather austere look. The interior of the church is
marble, and it cannot be said that this polished shining surface is
desirable for the lines of a Gothic building. Not far from S. Maria is
the most perfect pagan edifice in all Rome--the Pantheon. Here again we
have a heathen fabric that afterwards became a Christian church.
Boniface IV. consecrated the temple, that Marcus Agrippa had built more
than six hundred years previously, to S. Maria ad Martyres. Sixteen huge
columns of oriental granite form the portico, and the ancient bronze
doors still remain. The interior is a magnificent rotunda lighted by a
circular aperture in the centre of the coffered dome. Against the walls,
in recesses, rest the sarcophagi of Raphael and other painters. Here
too, sleeping his last long sleep, lies King Victor Emmanuel II., to
whom all Italians owe so much.
[Illustration: S.S. TRINITÀ DE' MONTI, ROME]
The church best known to foreigners is undoubtedly that which figures in
the illustration, S. Trinità de' Monti. There is nothing about the
church itself to call for comment; but its fine position, above the
beautifully arranged steps, in the middle of what may be called the
"foreign quarter," makes it worthy of note. Close by is the Villa
Medici, the French Academy of Rome. At the base of the steps is the
flower market. Until recently Italians had a great objection to cut
flowers in their rooms--they were supposed to be unhealthy. Through
foreign influence this is slowly giving way, and the market is as
much patronised by the Romans as by the residents of other
nationalities. Not many years ago the foot of these steps used to be
thronged every morning by artists' models, who, in the picturesque garb
of their native districts, sat here waiting for a day's hire. The few
who still do this have moved off to the steps of the Greek church in the
Via del Babuino, and the flavour of the Campagna and the mountains they
gave to the Piazza di Spagna is now a thing of the past. Everything
changes, everything passes away. The gaily coloured costumes of the
_ciociare_, the peasants from the districts between Rome and
Naples--so-called from the _cioce_ or sandal they wear--is now never
seen. The exaggerated dress of the flower sellers, who pester the
foreigner to buy little faded nosegays, is simply worn for the purpose
of extracting _soldi_ and as a subterfuge for begging. Away up in the
mountains beyond Tivoli are two villages, Saracenesco and Articoli.
Though they are adjacent the dialect of the inhabitants is different.
There is a deadly feud between them. They both provide the artist in
Rome with models. Those who come from the last named pose for the
figure, but those from Sarecenesco will only sit draped. They still
provide the wet-nurses for Roman babies; for the physique of these
Sabine villagers is very fine, as fine perhaps as in the days when the
Sabine women were carried off by Roman youths.
Beyond the Villa Medici lie the beautiful gardens of the Pincio. From
the terrace at the end, on the brow of the hill, one gets the famous
view of Rome. The shady walks and well-kept drives of these noted
gardens, and those of the adjoining Villa Borghese, are the favourite
rendezvous in the evening for Roman society. We must leave this
beautiful _pleasaunce_ and dive down into the labyrinth of streets
below. Nothing probably strikes one so much on a first visit to the
Eternal City as the number of fountains and obelisks that are to be
found in whichever direction a morning's walk takes one. Rome is the
best supplied of any capital in the world with water, and though she has
not the thirteen thousand odd fountains recorded by Cardinal Mai in the
year 1540, those that remain still flow unceasingly. The Aqua Virgo
brought into Rome by Agrippa to supply his _thermæ_ at the back of the
Pantheon rushes a never-failing supply into the huge Fontana di Trevi.
One may sometimes see a Roman of the poorer class drinking furtively
from the basin into which the water runs, drinking because he is leaving
his native city and wishes to assure a safe return. The Fontana del
Tritone is formed by dolphins, whose tails meet to support the
coat-of-arms of the Barberini--the fine Palazzo Barberini is close
by--and is surmounted by a Triton holding a conch shell to his mouth. In
quite another district, down by the river hidden away amidst the narrow
streets of the Ghetto, is the little Piazza Tartaruga. In the middle of
this charming little square stands the Fontana delle Tartaruga. The
design of this beautiful "Fountain of the Tortoises" has been attributed
to Raphael. It is certainly worthy of his great name. The bronze figures
of the four youths supporting the basin of the fountain are
exceptionally good. With one hand each grasps the tail of a dolphin, the
other is raised above their heads to assist the struggles of the little
bronze tortoises that are endeavouring to crawl over the slippery wet
lip of the bowl. The Fontana La Barcassia, in the Piazza di Spagna, a
corner of which is seen in the sketch of S. Trinità de' Monti, is no
doubt better known than the last named, but there is no public fountain
in Rome that approaches in any way the artistic merit of "The
Tortoises."
It is but a step from this to the gloomy looking Palazzo Cenci, which
recalls the tragedy of Beatrice of that name. Another pace further on
and we find ourselves in a recently cleared space with the new Jewish
Synagogue standing close to the river Embankment. Here was situated the
old Ghetto of Rome, a quarter which is being fast demolished. One
certainly cannot regret the disappearance of some of the abominable
slums that not so long ago stood where the housebreaker's pick and
shovel have been at work. It was but a few yards from the synagogue that
the sketch of the Isle of S. Bartholomew and the old Roman Pons
Fabricius was made. S. Bartolommeo is the only island on the Tiber in
its course through Rome; and the picturesque buildings of the old
monastery are the only buildings left, which the yellow river washes, of
all those that less than thirty years ago lined its banks. There is a
different air about the Trastevere district across the water. It is
another city altogether than the one left behind on the other bank. The
foreigner is not so much in evidence, we are once again in Italy. Mount
the steep ascent of the Janiculum, and from the wide space in front of
the colossal equestrian statue of Garibaldi you will get a grand view of
Rome, with the Campagna and Alban mountains beyond. From the top of the
hill, as one turns northwards, we seem on a level with S. Peter's great
dome. One is puzzled once again, when remembering how it really towers
above all, to find that it is not of much significance in the view.
Nothing of course is seen of the Vatican, which is situated on the other
side of S. Peter's. In the illustration of the Cathedral, however, there
is just visible the corner which adjoins it.
[Illustration: THE ISLE OF S. BARTOLOMEO, ROME]
The Vatican is the largest Palace in the world and contains the vastest
and most heterogeneous collection of all. It is quite impossible to
enumerate a tenth of the treasures hidden behind its ochre-coloured
walls. Neither can one enter here into any description of the Sistine
chapel with Michael Angelo's masterpiece, or Raphael's magnificent
frescoes in the Stanze and Loggie. We must pass over the famous picture
gallery and the antiquities in the Museo Pio-Clementino and the Museo
Chiaramonti, simply remarking that the Vatican Museums hold the finest
collections in the world. There is one antique in the square outside
which deserves a passing notice, and that is the great monolith of
granite standing in the centre of the Piazza di S. Pietro. If Rome is a
city of fountains, it is also a city of obelisks. This enormous block of
stone was brought by Caligula from Heliopolis and placed in the circus
of Nero, which occupied so much of the ground on which the great
basilica was afterwards erected. Eight hundred men, besides many horses
and over forty cranes, were requisitioned to elevate it in its present
position. Turning away from the Vatican and diving into the squalid
quarters of the Borgo, one comes on to the covered passage which John
XXIII. commenced to build in order to afford a safe mode of retreat
from the palace to the Castle of S. Angelo. The fortress of S. Angelo
was erected by the Emperor Hadrian as his family tomb; and, as such, its
exterior was perhaps decorated with statues. The Emperor died in his
villa at Baiæ on the Bay of Naples, but his body was brought here, to be
joined, as time went on, by the mortal remains of Marcus Aurelius,
Caracalla, and others.
The history of the castle is the history of Rome in the Middle Ages. It
has many times withstood a siege, and among other vicissitudes fell
before the prowess of Totila and his Goths. The sarcophagus of its
founder was used as the tomb for Innocent II., and its inverted lid now
forms the font in the baptistery of S. Peter's. The streets in the
neighbourhood of the castle have undergone an absolute change. Wide
thoroughfares and huge blocks of flats cover the ground that a few years
ago was a huge slum. The new Courts of Justice face the river, and the
embankment in front is now a fine boulevard. We cross the water once
more, by the Ponte Margherita, the bridge which is highest up the Tiber,
and find ourselves in that fine square the Piazza del Popolo. Above the
beautiful terraces that form the precipitous slope of the Pincio, the
trees that adorn the gardens stand out against the blue of the sky. At
the foot of the terraces is the church of S. Maria del Popolo, erected
on the site of the Domitii tombs, the ghost-haunted burial place of the
cruel Nero. Adjoining the church is a grand gateway, the Porta del
Popolo. Under its arches on the straight road that runs north, the Via
Flaminia, marched out of Rome all those legions that went forth to
conquer and to extend the bounds of an Empire that has seen no rival.
NAPLES
The old Greek colony of Parthenope was founded by settlers from Cumæ,
and when the islanders of Pithecusæ (Ischia) built their adjoining town
of Neapolis, it became known as Palæopolis. Its port was where the
harbour of S. Lucia existed up to twenty years ago. Neapolis occupied
that part of the present Naples which lies to the east of this. About
400 B.C. the Republic, formed by these two then united towns, allied
itself with Rome; and during the height of the Empire's power, her
rulers, statesmen, and poets built themselves residences on the shores
of the beautiful bay. Augustus did much for Neapolis, and Tiberius
sought refuge in that entrancing island, Capri, where to this day his
infamies are a byword. Claudius, Nero, Titus, and Hadrian, whose palace
can be seen under the waters of the blue Mediterranean near Pozzuoli,
have all left traces of some sort or other in and about Naples. Lombards
and Normans, Swabians and Spaniards were each in turn drawn hither,
allured by the beauty of the situation. Colossal figures in marble of
the most famous rulers of Naples occupy niches on the façade of the
Royal Palace, and here Roger the Norman, Frederick II., the Swabian, who
founded the university, Charles of Anjou, Alfonso of Arragon, Charles
III., Joachim Murat, and Victor Emmanuel II. gaze stonily from their
retreats at the noisy tram and rushing motor-car.
The Spanish Bourbons were the last to rule in Naples before Italy was
united towards the close of the last century. They did much to improve
the city but nothing to help its people. Twenty years ago there were
still left members of the aristocracy who every year journeyed to Paris
to pay their court to Francis II., the last of that race of kings whose
reign had ended at the disastrous battle of Gaeta.
Naples, like Rome, changes every year. Modern improvements bring
sanitation, but do away with all that is picturesque. All over the world
hotels are becoming a great factor in the life of the folk who have
spare cash, and Naples, with her splendid water supply and unrivalled
position, is not behind in her eagerness to catch the foreigner's gold.
Tourists by the thousand reach her by sea, and the enterprising agents
who arrange the itinerary pop them into cabs, drive them through the
streets, and deposit them at the far-famed Museum, where they are
hustled from one gallery to another by the anything but intelligent
guide. However, the Museum alone is worth a visit to Naples. The ashes
from Mte Somma which smothered Pompeii, preserved for subsequent ages
objects in bronze, in earthenware, and in glass, which lie in their
cases--an open book of the domestic life of the Roman for every one to
read. The great Farnese Hercules, brought by Caracalla from Athens to
adorn his baths in Rome, is in one of the lower galleries. It is without
exception the finest illustration of mighty strength in repose that
exists. In the days when Glycon the Athenian evolved and produced this
masterpiece, art was of more account in the lives of the people than it
is now, and so much was his Hercules appreciated and admired that it was
impressed on the money of Athens and the coins of Caracalla. Among the
many small statuettes that the excavator's shovel has been the means of
bringing to light is a very beautiful little winged figure of Victory.
Nothing can exceed the grace of the composition and the floating-in-air
quality this small treasure possesses. One of the best specimens of
Greek bronze work is the so-called Narcissus. A row of bronze statues
from the theatre at Pompeii place vividly before one the actors of the
Greek stage, just as the armour and magnificent helmets of the
gladiators bring the arena and its gory triumphs in front of one's
eyes.
But, like the tourist, we must hurry on to the cathedral. The façade,
approached by steps from the narrow street, is not in any way
noticeable. The interior retains some of the original Gothic, but, owing
to earthquakes, has been altered and restored, and now presents itself
as a great incongruity to the eye. The illustration will make this
apparent. Gothic arches form the bays of the nave. The aisles are also
Gothic, and so is the arch over the tribune at the east end. Corinthian
shafts and dark marble pilasters run up the square piers of the nave. At
the base of the shafts, under classic canopies, are the busts of
numerous archbishops, and between the piers are the confessionals. These
latter give a rich note of brown, which, with the gilded candelabra on
either side of the busts, finds an echo in the heavy and richly coloured
ceiling. The vista of the north aisle is the best architectural feature
in the building. The south aisle is marred by the obtruding classic
columns of its side chapels. At the high altar, which the illustration
shows, the blood of S. Januarius liquefies every year on the anniversary
of the saint's martyrdom in September. The whole cathedral is then
crowded, and the intense fervour and excitement of the immense
congregation when the blood, in a phial held aloft by the
officiating priest, begins to liquefy, is a sight that once seen can
never be forgotten.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL, NAPLES]
Immediately under the high altar in the crypt is the Confessio of S.
Gennario. Its marble roof is supported by ten Ionic columns. The richly
sculptured decoration of the chapel is very fine. The figure of Cardinal
Caraffa, who built it, kneels beside the altar under which repose the
saint's remains. One other thing of architectural note is the
Archbishop's throne in the nave. This good specimen of Gothic work is
upheld by most elaborately sculptured pillars, and arches with extremely
beautiful tracery.
The most interesting part of Naples lies round the cathedral. Narrow
streets, darkened by the clothes that hang from balcony and pole, form a
maze which it is easy to wander into, but very difficult to escape from.
Some of the finest of the old palaces stand in these dirty
thoroughfares. One may pass them a dozen times and still be quite
unaware of their existence. The moving crowd that throngs these narrow
streets does not show any particular regard for the sightseer, and the
careless Jehu who drives whither he will is absolutely unmindful of the
pedestrian. So if you would explore old Naples you must look after
yourself, and--as a caution too--look after your pockets. It is unwise
to display a watch chain, or to carry anything that may be easily
snatched from the hand. Remember you are in the midst of expert thieves
and among the most heterogeneous race on the face of the globe, a race
without the slightest idea of morals of any sort whatever. In the
tortuous Via S. Biagio stands a thirteenth-century palace built by one
of the Caraffa family, and since known as the Palazzo Santangelo. Some
of the best objects in the Museum first found a home in this fine old
house. Pope, Paul IV. and the great Neapolitan cardinal, Caraffa, were
born in the Palazzo Caraffa in the same street. The central post-office
is now housed in the Palazzo Gravina, built in the fifteenth century by
one of the Orsini; and the great dwelling of the Monticelli is one of
the best specimens of the domestic architecture of the same century.