THE DISUSE AND ABANDONMENT OF THE CATACOMBS.
From the period of the Edict of Milan, A. D. 313, a new era opens in
the history of the Catacombs. Christianity, emerging from those gloomy
recesses where she had so long hidden in darkness, walked boldly in
the light of day. She laid aside her lowly garb, put on the trappings
of imperial state, and at length, unhappily, exchanged her primitive
simplicity for worldly power and splendour. But therein was her
danger. The shadow of that power shed a upas influence over the
church. The unhallowed union between the bride of heaven and a sinful
world gave birth to corruption and religious error. Pampered when
subservient to the policy of the Cæsars, she soon became its willing
instrument, and stained her snowy robes by complicity with imperial
vice. Christianity became at length “a truth grown false,” and men, to
use the fine figure of D’Aubigné, forsaking the precious perfume of
faith, bowed down before the empty vessel that had contained it.
The influence of Constantine seems to have been fraught with more of
evil than of good to the new religion that he espoused. He appears to
have adopted the Christian name from expediency rather than from
conviction, and, stained with the kindred blood of wife and son and
nephew, ill deserves the title of Saint, bestowed in fulsome adulation
by a venal church. Even the priests of the false gods, aghast with
horror at his crimes, exclaimed, “There is no expiation for deeds
like these.” He used both pagans and Christians, both orthodox and 121
heretics, as instruments for his political purposes. His object seems
to have been rather to raise and strengthen a hierarchy of
ecclesiastical supporters than to assist the cause of truth; and he
imposed on the organization of the Greek and Latin churches that
monarchical and secular character which they have ever since
retained.[195]
The transfer of the seat of empire from the Tiber to the Bosphorus
left Christianity to develop itself at Rome less trammelled by
imperial influence; and, perhaps, in a less corrupt form than in the
East. After the edict of toleration, the places of worship which had
been closed or destroyed during the persecution were opened, or
rebuilt with a magnificence rivalling that of the ancient temples. But
the Catacombs still continued invested with a deep and pathetic
interest, as the cradle of the faith, the refuge of the church during
the storm of calamity, and the sepulchre of the saints and martyrs. 122
Hence numerous basilicas or oratories were erected over or near the
entrances of the ancient cemeteries in honour of the holy dead.
On the full recognition of Christianity the necessity for subterranean
sepulture ceased; hence it fell gradually into disuse, and was
superseded by burial in or near the now numerous basilicas. Even the
Roman bishops were no longer interred in the so-called Papal Crypt,
but in churches above ground; and this example was soon generally
followed. “The inscriptions with consular dates,” says Dr. Northcote,
“probably furnish us with a sufficiently accurate guide to the
relative proportions of the two modes of burial. From A. D. 338 to
A. D. 360 two out of three burials appear to have taken place in the
subterranean portion of the cemeteries, while from A. D. 364 to
A. D. 369 the proportions are equal. During the next two years hardly
any notices of burials _above_ ground appear, but after that
subterranean crypts fell rapidly into disuse.”[196]
It is a remarkable circumstance, here indicated, that in the years A.
D. 370 and 371 a sudden and general return to subterranean sepulture
took place. This change has been very satisfactorily explained by the
contemporary history of the Catacombs. Great injury had already been
inflicted on these ancient sepulchres by the practice which had become
prevalent of erecting basilicas, more or less sumptuous, over the
tombs of the illustrious martyrs of the age of persecution.[197] As
the ecclesiastical authorities shrank from disturbing their remains
it became the custom to excavate the ground down to the level of their 123
graves. As these were often in the lower levels of the Catacombs,
hundreds of graves were sometimes destroyed in these excavations and
constructions.[198] Damasus, bishop of Rome from A. D. 358 to A. D.
384, who was indefatigable in his efforts to protect and, where
possible, to restore the Catacombs, endeavoured to prevent this
wholesale destruction of these sacred crypts. He explored many of the
galleries, which, to preserve inviolate the martyrs’ graves, had been
blocked up with earth and stones during the period of persecution. He
cleared out[199] and enlarged the passages leading to the more
distinguished tombs, and constructed ample flights of stairs for the
accommodation of the numerous pilgrims to these sacred shrines. He
lined many of the chambers with marble slabs, constructed shafts for
the admission of light and air, and supported the crumbling walls and
galleries, where necessary, with piers and arches of solid masonry. He
also composed numerous metrical inscriptions in honour of the martyrs,
which were engraved on marble in a singularly elegant character. There
are few of the Catacombs in which traces of his restorations or
adornments are not to be found.
The piety or superstition of the wealthy converts to Christianity led
them to enlarge the subterranean chapels and martyr-tombs, and to
decorate them with costly marbles, frescoes, mosaics, stucco ornaments, 124
and vaulted roofs. The contemporary tombs and monuments were also on a
scale of magnificence before unknown; and the inscriptions assumed a
florid and inflated character far different from the simplicity of the
primitive ages. The architecture and paintings also indicate, with the
increase of wealth and luxury, the decline and fatal eclipse of art.
To the period of Damasus belongs the description, by Prudentius, of
the shrine of Hippolytus, part of which has been already quoted.[200]
“That little chapel,” he continues, “which contains the cast-off
garments of his soul, is bright with solid silver. Wealthy hands have
put up glistening tablets, smooth and bright as a concave mirror; and,
not content with overlaying the entrance with Parian marble, they have
lavished large sums of money on the ornamentation of the work.” It was
during the period of the labours of Damasus that the revived interest
in the Catacombs was so strikingly manifested by the sudden return to
the subterranean mode of burial, and that many of the tombs and
chapels received their most elaborate adornment.[201]
The perversion of a natural instinct, beautiful and praiseworthy in
itself, became the root of much evil in after times. Our hearts are
irresistibly drawn toward the place where lie the remains of the 125
dear departed in the last long sleep of death. Although we know that
only the slumbering dust is there, we love to meditate above their
graves, and seem there to hold closer communion with their spirits
than elsewhere. Especially would the early Christians be drawn to the
tombs of their fathers in the faith, many of whom were also their
fathers in the flesh, whose saintly patience or glorious martyrdom had
hallowed their memory for evermore. They would naturally be led to
adorn and beautify their sepulchres, and in pious devotion to meditate
and pray beside their honoured remains. This innocent, and even
laudable, practice gradually, and perhaps inevitably, led to abuses.
The admiration of the martyr’s faith and patience and heroic spirit
gradually intensified into superstitious veneration for his body,
blood, bones, ashes, clothes, staff, or any personal relic. Judaism
regarded the touching of aught connected with the dead as involving a
ceremonial pollution; but Christian ideas invested even the crumbling
dust of the martyrs with especial sanctity.
The first clear evidence that we have of this feeling is in the case
of Ignatius, who suffered under Trajan, A. D. 107. Perhaps from a fear
that superstitious reverence might be paid to his remains, he prayed
that the wild beasts might become his sepulchre, so that nothing of
him might be left.[202] His desire was only partly fulfilled, for “the
larger and harder bones remained, which were carried to Antioch and
kept as an inestimable treasure left to the Church by the grace which
was in the martyr.”[203] Eusebius speaks of the charred remains of
Polycarp as “more precious than the richest jewels, and more tried 126
than gold.”[204] The martyrs blood was esteemed a talisman of especial
power. A sponge saturated therewith was sometimes worn as a sacred
relic, and it may be as a supernatural amulet, by their friends or
relatives. Prudentius describes the spectators of the martyrdom of St.
Vincent as dipping their clothes in his blood, that they might keep it
as a sort of palladium for successive generations:
Crowds haste the linen vest to stain
With gore distilled from martyr’s vein,
And thus a holy safeguard place
At home, to shield the future race.[205]
In the account of the death of Hippolytus, he describes the gathering
of his mangled limbs with a minuteness too revolting for the poetry
even of martyrology.[206] With a refinement of cruelty, the
persecutors of Gaul cast the remains of the martyrs of Vienne to the
dogs, and guarded their lifeless bodies for days, in order to deprive
the Christians of the melancholy satisfaction of paying the last sad
rites of burial to any fragments that remained.[207]
The primitive Christians justly discriminated between the reverence
due to the martyrs and the adoration to be rendered only to the
Supreme Being. “We worship Christ as the Son of God,” says the church
of Smyrna, “but the martyrs we deservedly love as the disciples and
imitators of Our Lord.”[208] “We do not build temples to our martyrs 127
as gods,” says Augustine, “but only memorials of them as dead men
whose spirits live with God; nor do we erect altars or sacrifice to
our martyrs, but to the only God, both theirs and ours.”[209] But the
enthusiastic feelings of the people at length failed to make this
proper distinction, and many even of the theological writers of the
day, not foreseeing the disastrous consequences to which the practice
would lead, were carried away with the popular current.
One form which this veneration took was that of festivals in honour of
the martyrs. “By a noble metaphor,” says Milman,[210] “the day of
their death was considered that of their birth to immortality.”[211]
The church of Smyrna celebrated the anniversary of their martyred
bishop’s passion “with joy and gladness as his natal day.”[212]
Tertullian asserts that the practice has the authority of apostolic
tradition.[213] These festivals were at first kept with religious
solemnity, accompanied by the celebration of the eucharist, often in
the rock-hewn chambers of the Catacombs, where a thin tile separated
the dead in Christ from the devout worshippers who commemorated the
passion of their common Lord. During the ages of persecution this was
a rite of deep and touching significance. Frequently his partaking of
that feast was the recipient’s own consecration to the martyr’s death.
But after the peace of the church it often degenerated into a scene of
excess and vulgar revelry, more like the pagan banquets for the dead
than a Christian solemnity. Indeed, they were avowedly employed in 128
ignoble appeal to the baser appetites, as counter-attractions to the
pagan feasts, to induce the poor to attend the festivals of the
church.[214] This degradation of an originally praiseworthy practice,
and the intensifying and abject superstition to which it led, provoked
the taunts of the heathen and the censure of the more devout and
thoughtful Christians. The philosophic Julian recoiled from the
adoration of relics as from pollution. Another pagan writer contrasts
the veneration of obscure martyrs’ names, hateful to the gods and to
men,[215] with the refined and poetic _cultus_ of Minerva and
Jupiter.[216] Vigilantius, the Spanish presbyter, strongly condemns
the “ashes worshippers and idolaters;” while, on the other hand,
Jerome magnifies the sanctity of these relics, “around which,” he
says, “the souls of the martyrs are constantly hovering to hear the
prayers of the supplicant.” After in vain trying to restrain their
abuses and excesses, the ecclesiastical authorities were at length
compelled to suppress these festivals.
The reverence paid to the relics of the martyrs had two remarkable and
contrary effects. Having led in the first place to the adornment of
their sepulchres, it ultimately caused their destruction and
spoliation. In consequence of this feeling it became an object of
ambition to share the resting-place of those who had been so holy in
life and so glorious in death. Hence new graves were often excavated
in the back of the _arcosolia_, cutting through the beautiful 129
frescoes with which they were adorned, and mutilating or destroying
the paintings.[217] The _cubicula_ were also defaced, their
symmetry injured, and their construction endangered by similar
imprudent excavations.
Numerous inscriptions inform us that many persons secured this
privilege during their lives, as the following examples: IN
CRYPTA NOBA RETRO SANCTOS EMERVM SE VIVAS BALERA ET SABINA
(_sic_)--“In the new crypt behind the saints: Valeria and Sabina
bought it for themselves while living.” ΕΝΘΑΔΕ ΠΑΥΛΕΙΝΑ ΚΕΙΤΑΙ ΜΑΚΑΡΩ
ΕΝ ΧΩΡΩ--“Here lies Paulina in the place of the blessed.” Another
inscription of the period of Damasus tells of one who was buried
“within the thresholds of the saints, a thing which many desire and
few obtain.”[218] Sometimes the name of the saint or martyr is
mentioned, as in one which records the purchase of a grave, “at the
tomb of Hippolytus, above the _arcosolium_,”[219] and another at that
of Cornelius.[220] So also the tomb of Cecilia was separated from that
of one of the primitive bishops by scarcely an inch of rock. Great
injury was thus done to the Catacombs by the indiscreet devotion of
those who observed this practice. Many pilgrims to the graves of the
martyrs, deriving, they thought, a spiritual benefit from proximity to
their sacred dust, took up their abode in little cells beside their
graves while alive, and shared their sepulchres in death. In answer to
the inquiry of his friend Paulinus of Nola, whether it was a profit to
the soul that the body should be buried near the shrine of some 130
saint,[221] Augustine wrote a special treatise[222] in justification
of the practice; although _how_ the martyrs help men, he confesses, is
a question beyond his understanding. We have already seen the very
strong opinion entertained on this subject by Jerome, the contemporary
of Augustine. More in accordance with reason and scripture is the
sentiment contained in the epitaph of the archdeacon Sabinus, lately
found at San Lorenzo:
NIL IVVAT IMMO GRAVAT TVMVLIS HAERERE PIORVM
SANCTORVM MERITIS OPTIMA VITA PROPE EST
CORPORE NON OPVS EST ANIMA TENDAMVS AD ILLOS
QVAE BENE SALVA POTEST CORPORE ESSE SALVS.[223]
It nothing helps, but rather hinders, to stick close to the tombs
of the saints; a good life is the best approach to their merits.
Not with the body but with the soul must we draw nigh to them;
when that is well saved it may prove the salvation of the body
also.
Even Damasus, who, if any ought, might claim sepulture with the
sainted dead, shrank from disturbing their remains, and was buried in
a tomb _above_ the Catacomb of Callixtus. Of the subterranean
crypt he says:
HIC FATEOR DAMASVS VOLVI MEA CONDERE MEMBRA
SED TIMVI SANCTOS CINERES VEXARE PIORVM.
Here I, Damasus, confess I wished to lay my limbs, but I feared
to vex the holy ashes of the saints.
The desire for communion with the holy dead continued throughout
successive generations. Multitudes of pilgrims still visited the
shrines of the martyrs, and, after the wont of travellers, left traces
of their presence in the numerous _graffiti_ which are written on
the walls. Some of these are names of classical form, as Leo, Felix,
Maximus, Theophilus; others, written in less accessible places, are of 131
later date and of foreign character, Spanish, British, or German, as
Ildebrand, Ethelred, Lupo, Bonizo, Joannes. The names are frequently
accompanied with the letters _Pb._, or _Presb._, the indication of
the ecclesiastical grade of the writer.
Many of the loftiest dignitaries in church and state, popes and
prelates, princes and nobles, kings and queens, and even some
illustrious wearers of the imperial purple, continued to be brought,
often from afar, throughout the period of the Middle Ages, to lie in
death as near as possible to the hallowed dust of the early martyrs
and confessors of the faith. Among them were some stained with blood,
who hoped to expiate their crimes by their religious austerities, and
to enter paradise through the intercession of the saints near whose
remains their bones were laid. Several petty kings of the Anglo-Saxon
Heptarchy, some expelled by their subjects or rivals, others flying
from the post of duty, muttered their prayers and counted their beads
in the crypts of the Catacombs, and were buried in their vicinity. The
following are a few of the more illustrious, taken from the list of
the Abbé Gaume:[224] Popes Leo I., Gregory I., II., and III., Leo XI.;
the Emperor Honorius and Mary his wife, Valentinian and Otho II.;
Cedwalla, king of the West-Saxons; Conrad, king of the Mercians; Offa
and Ina, Saxon kings, with Eldiburga, wife of the latter; the Empress
Agnes, Queen Charlotte of Cyprus, and the Countess Matilda, who so
enriched the papal see by her donations. These were buried, not in the
Catacombs, but in the basilicas erected over them, which were 132
considered to share their sanctity. Thus, as St. Chrysostom remarks,
referring to the tradition concerning the sepulchres of St. Peter and
St. Paul, kings laid aside their crowns at the tombs of the fisherman
and the tentmaker.[225]
During the latter part of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth
century the management of the Catacombs seems to have been no longer
in the hands of the ecclesiastical authorities, but under the control
of the fossors,[226] with whom the bargain for interment was made by
the friends of the deceased. Numerous inscriptions occur in which this
bargain is recorded, together with the names of the buyers and
sellers, and sometimes those of the witnesses to the contract, and
even the price that was paid, as in the following examples: COSTAT
NOS EMISSE IANVARIVM ET BRITIAM LOCVM ANTE DOMNA EMERITA A FOSSORIBVS
BVRDONE ET MICINMO ET MVSCO RATIONE AVRI SOLIDVM VN SEMES
(_sic_)--“It is unquestionable that we, Januarius and Britia,
bought a place in front of [the tomb of] Lady Emerita[227] from the
fossors Burdo, Micinus, and Muscus, for the consideration of one
solidus and a half of gold”--(about $7.) EMPTVM LOCVM A BARTIMISTVM
VISOMVM HOC EST ET PRETIVM DATVM A FOSSORE HILARO ID EST FOLN ...
PRESENTIA SEVERI FOSS. ET LAVRENT--“The place bought by Bartimistus,
that is, a bisomus; and the price paid to the fossor Hilarus, 1400
folles, (about $5 65,) in the presence of the fossors Severus and
Laurence.” The fossors also probably prepared and engraved the funeral
slabs, as seems to be implied in the following: LOCV MARMARORI 133
(_sic_) QVODRISOMVM--“A quadruple tomb [bought] of the
stonecutter.”[228]
In the following illustration from the Catacomb of Callixtus the
fossor is seen standing in a _cubiculum_ lined with graves, and
surrounded by the implements of his labour. On his shoulder is the
mattock with which he dug the friable tufa, and in his hand the lamp
with the spike by which it was fastened to the rock while he worked.
At his feet lie the compasses for marking out the _loculi_, and
over his head we read the simple epitaph, “Diogenes the fossor, buried 134
in peace on the eighth before the calends of October.”
[Illustration: Fig. 23.--Diogenes the Fossor.]
The accompanying engraving from Aringhi shows the fossor actively
engaged in excavating the vaulted gallery by the light of the lamp
suspended near him. The marks made by the mattocks, in the manner here
shown, may be seen in the walls of the passages as plainly as though
the fossor had but just ceased his labours.
[Illustration: Fig. 24.--The Fossor at Work.]
After a brief return to subterranean burial in the time of Damasus the
practice fell rapidly into disuse, and after A. D. 410 scarcely a
single certain example can be found. In that fatal year the blast of
the Gothic trumpet, startling the ear of midnight[229] in the streets
of Rome, proclaimed its capture by the hosts of the stern Alaric. Amid
the social and civil commotions that accompanied the breaking up of
the empire, there was neither time nor means to adorn the sepulchres
of the saints, and the Catacombs fell into inevitable neglect and
decay. Of this year not a single sepulchral inscription remains, a
striking indication of the anarchy and confusion prevailing, when even
the customary honours were not paid to the dead.
Like a mighty deluge sweeping away and overwhelming the art and 135
civilization of the South, came the invasion of the barbarous hordes
of the North; yet like a deluge fertilizing and enriching the soil,
and leaving germs of future fruitfulness behind. Having conquered the
world with its arms and corrupted it with its vices, the mighty fabric
of the Roman empire lost internal strength and cohesion, and began to
crumble to pieces. The secret causes of its dissolution had long been
stealthily at work, and its fall at last was utter and complete.
Thrice in the space of three years (A. D. 408, 409, 410) Rome was
besieged by the hosts of Alaric, and, in vain purchasing respite by a
costly ransom, she was at last given up as a prey to the bold, eager,
and greedy savagery of the North. The pillage of the world,
accumulated during a thousand years of conquest, left, however, little
pretext for violating the resting-places of the dead. As the rude
soldiery gloated with hungry eyes on the lavish gold and silver, the
precious jewels and sumptuous vestments on every side, they recked
little for mere works of art, and many a porphyry vase and priceless
statue was wantonly shivered by barbarian battle-axe. Nevertheless,
the conqueror respected the basilicas of the apostles and the sacred
vessels of their shrines, declaring that he made not war upon the
saints.[230]
But succeeding conquerors were less scrupulous or more rapacious. Five
times in the course of the fifth century, and as often in the sixth,
the Eternal City, “that was almighty named,” was besieged by her
implacable foes. The churches were plundered of the massy plate and
other treasures, and even the dim crypts of the Catacombs echoed the 136
clanging tread of the armed soldiery as with sacrilegious hands they
stripped the shrines of the saints of their costly adorning, and
rifled the graves of the dead in search for hidden treasure.[231] Each
successive invasion to which Rome was exposed renewed these scenes of
desecration and robbery. The Huns, the Goths, the Lombards, and,
later, the Normans and Saracens, were rivals in spoliation and
destruction.
During the intervals of peace the Roman pontiffs endeavoured to
restore the Catacombs and re-adorn the martyr shrines, which were
still the objects of pious veneration. They were also used during the
barbarian invasions, as during the pagan persecutions, as places of
refuge. Boniface I., having been for some time concealed in the
Catacomb of Felicitas, afterwards elaborately ornamented it. Symmachus
and Vigilius were also especially diligent in their care for the
Catacombs. The latter restored many of the Damasine epitaphs which had
been destroyed.[232] We read also of popes of the sixth and two 137
following centuries restoring the cemeteries and making provision for
the celebration of the martyrs’ festivals at their subterranean
shrines. The sculpture and frescoes of the period of course exhibited
the depraved taste and debased execution of the times.
A new element of destruction came now into play. This was the
wholesale translation of the bodies of the saints from the Catacombs
to the churches of the city, in order to save them from profanation by
Astolphus and his sacrilegious Lombards. These pious robbers ransacked
and systematically despoiled the ancient cemeteries, and carried off
the relics of the martyrs. Pope Stephen III. thereupon published a
letter from St. Peter himself menacing with eternal damnation the
violators of these hallowed tombs. These spiritual terrors, however,
were found insufficient to protect the sacred relics. The work of
translation was resumed, and Pope Paul I. records the removal in A. D.
761 of the bodies of over a hundred “martyrs, confessors, and virgins
of Christ, with hymns and spiritual songs, into the city of Rome.” He
complains also of the neglect into which the Catacombs had fallen.
Their deeper recesses were given up to owls and bats, and nearer the
entrance the prowling fox or jackal found a covert. There, too, the
Campagnian shepherds frequently folded their flocks, and “converted
the sacred places into stables and dunghills.” They became, also, the
lurking places of thieves and debtors, outlaws and bandits, who took
refuge in their tangled labyrinths.
We have observed the practice in the fourth century of building
churches over the martyrs’ tombs. The natural reverence for their
remains soon passed into a superstitious veneration and belief in
their miraculous efficacy. Even such acute minds as those of Origen,
Chrysostom, and Ambrose seem infected with this superstition.[233] It 138
soon became considered essential to the consecration of a church that
it should be hallowed by some holy relics. These were placed not only
on the altar, but in the sides of portals, to be kissed by the devout
on entering.[234] The furnishing of these relics became a gainful
trade. St. Augustine complains of certain vagabond monks who went
about selling relics of the martyrs, if indeed martyrs they were.[235]
In consequence of this practice a Theodosian law of the year A. D. 386
forbids the removal of any body that was buried, or the tearing
asunder or sale of the remains of a martyr.[236] In consequence of the
number of spurious relics, the fourth Council of Carthage, in A. D.
401, prohibited the use of any whose genuineness could not be
authenticated.[237] Martin of Tours narrates how he discovered, by
summoning the ghost of a so-called martyr, that the revered relics
were only those of a common thief.[238] The Empress Constantina wrote
to Gregory the Great, at the end of the sixth century, for the head 139
of St. Paul, in order to consecrate a new church. He replied that he
could not divide the bodies of the saints, and declared that the
danger of invading their tombs was sometimes even fatal.[239] But this
pious reverence gave place to a more mercenary spirit, and the trade
in relics became a traffic of infamy and disgrace. Not only were the
bodies of the so-called martyrs torn asunder and their limbs sold to
diverse and distant places, but with sacrilegious fraud the relics of
favourite saints were multiplied till as many different cities claimed
to have their only true and genuine heads, arms, or bodies, as
contended for the honour of being the birth-place of Homer.[240]
These relics were endowed in popular apprehension with most miraculous
powers. They emitted a delightful fragrance that ravished the senses.
A fleshless skull declared the name and martyrdom of its owner. The
bones of St. Lawrence moved in their grave to make room for those of
another saint. The liquefaction of a martyr’s blood may still be
witnessed by the faithful on the anniversary of St. Januarius at
Naples.[241] If we may credit numerous traditions, these wonder-working
human remains healed the sick,[242] raised the dead, and, more 140
difficult still, converted heretics to the true faith. Nay, the mere
contact with the _brandea_ or handkerchief from the martyr’s
tomb, the filings of his chains, or the oil from the lamp before his
shrine, communicated spiritual as well as physical benefit. These
sacred relics possessed a talismanic power to protect from evil. They
were borne into battle to avert the hurtling death and to blunt the
edge of the sword. They were affixed to towers as a safeguard against
the thunderbolt.[243] They were inlaid in the crowns and regalia of
kings,[244] and worn in rings and amulets as prophylactics against
poison or disease, and they lent an awful sanctity to the oath taken
upon the altar.[245]
The slender historical evidence on which idolatrous homage is paid to 141
these relics is seen in the case of the so-called “Saint Theodosia of 142
Amiens.” Her epitaph, found in a Catacomb near the Salarian Way, reads
as follows:
AVRELIAE THEVDOSIAE
BENIGNISSIMAE ET
INCOMPARABILI FEMINAE
AVRELIVS OPTATVS
CONIVGI INNOCENTISSIMAE
NAT · AMBIANA.
Aurelius Optatus to his most innocent wife Aurelia Theudosia, a
most gracious and incomparable woman, by nation an Ambian.
The Congregation of Relics decided that Theudosia was both a saint and
martyr, and a native of Amiens. Her remains were solemnly conveyed to
that city, and on the 12th of October, 1833, they were received with
the utmost magnificence by no less than twenty-eight mitred prelates
and fifteen hundred other ecclesiastics, placed in a gorgeous shrine,
and honoured as in ancient times they honoured a tutelar goddess.
Cardinal Wiseman preached on the occasion, and compared the removal of
her remains to her native place to that of the patriarch Joseph’s
bones from Egypt to Canaan; and Bishop Salinis commended the homage of
her relics “because the martyrs are, after Jesus Christ, also _Christs_ 143
to open heaven to mankind.”[246]
By this practice of the translation of relics Rome broke the chain of
positive evidence, and destroyed the tender and pathetic associations
connected with the remains of the sainted dead. The martyr’s tomb, in
its original position and undisturbed, is an object of intensest
interest; but removed to some distant church or abbey and redecorated
with florid adornment or theatrical finery, his alleged relics provoke
only skepticism or contempt. Indeed, so little attempt at probability
is there in the names given to these relics that a Romanist writer,
the Abbé Barbier de Montault, confesses that the greater part of the
bodies found in the Catacombs wanting proper names have received,
when they were exposed to public veneration, names at haphazard, which 144
have only a vague or general signification, as Felix, Fortunatus,
Victor.[247]
We return from this digression to the mediæval history of the
Catacombs. The efforts of Stephen III., Adrian I., and Leo III., in
the eighth and ninth centuries, to restore their ancient honour and
magnificence, were unavailing. The tombs of the saints were
continually being abandoned and destroyed. The translation of the
sacred relics was renewed with increased energy. Pope Paschal I. was
the most zealous agent in the prosecution of this work. An inscription
in the church of St. Prassede, which he built for their reception,
records the translation thither of 2,300 bodies in a single day, July
20, A. D. 817. Successive popes continued to remove cartloads of
relics from the Catacombs in order to enhance the dignity or sanctity
of the churches which they built or restored, and as an evidence of
their own pious zeal. At this period, probably, the multitude of
relics were borne to the Pantheon, since known as St. Maria ad
Martyres--
Shrine of all saints and temple of all gods
From Jove to Jesus.[248]
These perpetual spoliations of the Christian cemeteries led to the 145
rapid destruction of many of their galleries and chambers, and to
their final abandonment like a worked-out mine--a mine, too, which had
been the source of greater riches to the church than treasures of
silver or gold. In the removal of the relics of the martyrs the
principal motive for the protection or adornment of the Catacombs was
taken away, and during the gathering darkness of the Middle Ages they
speedily passed out of the knowledge of mankind. In a few of those in
the immediate vicinity of some church or monastery a subterranean
chapel was still kept open, and an occasional mass was celebrated on
the presumed anniversary of the martyr whose name was associated,
often erroneously, therewith; or some zealous and adventurous pilgrim
might even penetrate their obscure recesses. But a blight had fallen
on the once beautiful Campagna. Desolation, pestilence, and death
brooded over the deserted plain. Through the natural dilapidations of
time, and the spoliations of Saracens, Normans, and Greeks, who
successively invaded Italy and wasted the country with fire and sword,
the basilicas and oratories of the Byzantine period crumbled to decay
or were destroyed, and the monasteries were deserted; their cowled and
sandaled occupants, long the sole custodians of the Catacombs, taking
refuge within the city walls. The rains of a thousand autumns and the
frosts of as many winters caused the crumbling of the _luminari_,
the falling in of the roofs, and ruin of the galleries. The knowledge
of the past was lost in the gathering gloom of the dark ages, so that
in an enumeration of the Roman Catacombs in the fourteenth century
only three are mentioned, and these were connected with some church. 146
In the fifteenth century but one, that of Sebastian, was known.
Yet there is evidence that some of the galleries were accessible, and
were used for dark and sinister purposes, in keeping with their gloomy
and desolate character. During the lawless period from the eleventh to
the fifteenth century, when faction and civil war and anarchy laid
waste the country, and even the classic mausolea above ground were
converted into armed fortresses, these gloomy vaults became the
rendezvous of insurgents and conspirators, who feared no betrayal of
their bloody secrets by the silent sleepers in their narrow cells. In
their dark recesses were concocted those “treasons, stratagems, and
spoils” that desolated the land. Frequently armed bands of the
retainers of hostile houses--the Montagues and Capulets of the
day--met in these subterranean battle-grounds, and the war-cry of
Guelph and Ghibelline, of Colonna and Orsini, rang through the hollow
corridors, disturbing the quiet of the graves. Bloodshed and cruelty
often desecrated the spot sacred to religion and the ashes of the
sainted dead. Petrarch thus describes these unhallowed uses of the
Catacombs:
They are become like robbers’ caves,
So that only the good are denied entrance;
And among altars and saintly statues
Every cruel enterprise is planned.[249]
During the period of the “Babylonish Captivity,” when the Papal See
was removed from the banks of the Tiber to those of the Rhone--from 147
the protection of the fortress of St. Angelo to the castled heights of
Avignon--the decay of every thing pertaining to the church in Italy
was precipitated. The city of Rome, which depended for its prosperity
entirely upon its ecclesiastical pomps and pageants, became
impoverished and almost deserted. The Campagna changed to a
wilderness, and the entrances to the Catacombs were choked with
rubbish or overgrown with tangled thickets and gigantic weeds. Many of
these entrances were also walled up by the civic authorities to
prevent their becoming the resort of robbers, and for the safety of
the inhabitants.
During the short and tumultuous career of that strange reformer,
Colonna di Rienzi, (1347-1354,) some of the hidden crypts are
mentioned as the scene of the plots and counterplots of that troublous
time; and, like the sewers and Catacombs of Paris during the
Revolution, and the cloacæ of Rome in time of proscription and civil
war, they became places of refuge and concealment. On the eve of his
massacre Rienzi was urged to seek safety in those ancient sanctuaries
of the persecuted church, but he replied, as Nero is said to have done
thirteen centuries before, that he would not bury himself alive.[250]
With the exception of these rare allusions there is little mention of
the Catacombs in the chronicles of the Middle Ages, and they became in
course of time virtually unknown. They were not, however, entirely
unvisited. The cemetery of Sebastian was never quite forgotten, but
was always open to pilgrims; and even in the darkest period there seem 148
to have been some who, inspired by devotion or curiosity, penetrated
the most accessible crypts, and left inscribed upon the walls the date
of their visit. Thus, in one place we find a record of a bishop of
Pisa and his companions who visited the Catacombs early in the
fourteenth century. Another _graffito_, with the names of three
persons and the date A. D. 1321, reads thus: “Gather together, O
Christians, in these caverns, to read the holy books, to sing hymns in
honour of the saints and martyrs who, having died in the Lord, lie
buried here; to sing psalms for those who are now dying in the faith.
There is light in this darkness. There is music in these tombs.”[251]
On one of the graves were found a small silver-gilt coronet, with the
date A. D. 1340, and a palm leaf worked in silver. In another crypt
are written six names--German, in Latinized form--with a cross after
each, and beneath, the date A. D. 1397.[252] They were probably a
company of German priests on a pilgrimage to the Eternal City and its
sacred shrines. In two or three _cubicula_ in the Catacomb of
Callixtus are _graffiti_ recording the visits of certain
Franciscan friars in the fifteenth century. Brother Lawrence of
Sicily, over date January 17, 1451, records that with twenty others he
had come to visit the holy place.[253] In 1467 some Scottish
pilgrims,[254] and two years after an abbot of St. Sebastian, with a
large party,[255] left records of their visits to this Catacomb. The
names of Pomponio Leto and other literati of the Roman Academy have
also been found in several of the crypts. These men, however,
although the avowed lovers of antiquity,[256] were enthusiastic only 149
in the pursuit of heathen learning, and justly merited the reproach of
being more pagan than Christian. With the exception of such infrequent
and transient visits, it would appear that this priceless treasury of
Christian archæology and legacy of the primitive church to the present
age was completely forgotten till it was revealed to the eyes of a
wondering world by the explorations of the sixteenth and following
century.
[195] _Zosimus._ His profession of Christianity provoked the
scorn of the apostate Julian.--_Ibid._
Scott compares him to a prodigal who strips an aged parent of the
ornaments of her youth in order to decorate a flaunting paramour.
But New Rome shared the decline of the mother city, as a graft
taken from an old tree partakes of the decay of the parent stem.
As the ancient liberties died out, the gorgeous but degrading
despotisms of the East usurped their place. The emperors assumed
the style and titles of gods. The most unmanly adulation was at
length lavished on the slave or herdsman elevated by capricious
fortune to the throne of the world. At the time of the princess
Anna Comnena this degradation seems to have reached its nadir.
“Your Eternity” was the blasphemous epithet of the ephemeral
puppet flaunting for a moment in the livery of infamy. “If I may
speak and live,” whispered with bated breath the titled
slave--Prospathaire, or Acolyte--who stood nearest the throne,
shading his eyes with his hands, as if overpowered by the
effulgence of the imperial countenance. The rude Latin Crusaders
made short work of these lofty titles and this solemn etiquette.
[196] _Roma Sotterranea_, pp. 95, 96. During the lifetime of
Constantine subterraneous sepultures seem to have been generally
prevalent.
[197] These were called _martyria_ or _memoriæ_. See Euseb.,
_Vit. Const._, iii, 48.
[198] The effects of this practice are apparent at _S. Agnese
fuori le Mura_, erected over the tomb of the virgin martyr,
and at San Lorenzo, where the galleries of the Catacomb of
Cyriaca have been exposed and in part destroyed.
[199] In extending the Catacombs for the purpose of burial it was
sometimes found easier to cut new galleries at a higher level,
using the bed of earth in the old as the floor of the new.
Sometimes the new galleries cut right through the _loculi_
of the old.
[200] Chap. i, p. 11. To the same period belongs the description
of the Catacombs by Jerome, quoted on page 36. Jerome at one time
acted as secretary to Damasus.
[201] St. Ambrose, about this time, censures the constructing of
costly sepulchres, as if they were to be the receptacle of the
soul instead of the body.--Frustra struunt homines pretiosa
sepulchra, quasi ea animæ, nec solius corporis, receptacula
essent.--_De Bono Mortis._
Basil urges men to prepare their funeral by works of piety while
they live. “For what need have you,” he asks, “of a sumptuous
monument, or a costly entombing?”--_Hom. in Divites._
[202] Ignat., _Ep. ad Rom._, § iv. Euseb., _Hist.
Eccles._, iii, 36.
[203] Acts of Martyrdom, § xii.
[204] _Hist. Eccles._, iv, 15.
[205] Plerique vestem linteam
Stillante tingunt sanguine,
Tutamen ut sacrum suis
Domi reservent posteris.--_Peristeph._, v.
[206] Hic humeros, truncasque manus et brachia, et ulnas,
Et genua, et crurum fragmina nuda legit.--_Ibid._, iv.
[207] Euseb., _Hist. Eccles._, v, 1.
[208] _Ibid._, iv, 15.
[209] Nos martyribus nostris non templa sicut diis, sed memorias
sicut hominibus mortuis, quorum apud Deum vivant spiritus,
fabricamus; nec ibi erigimus altaria, in quibus sacrificemus
martyribus, sed uni Deo et martyrum et nostro.--_De. Civ.
Dei_, xxii, 10.
[210] _Hist. of Christianity_, book iv, c. 2.
[211] Hence called _Natalitia_, Γενέθλια.
[212] Euseb., _Hist. Eccles._, iv, 15.
[213] _De Coron. Mil._, c. ii.
[214] Diesque festos, post eos, quos relinquebant, alienos in
honorem sanctorum martyrum vel non simili sacrilegio, quamvis
simili luxu celebrantur.--Augustin., _Epis._ xxix. See also
Boldetti, _Osservazioni sopra i cimiteri dei SS. Martiri_, p. 46.
[215] Diisque hominibusque odiosa nomina.--Aug., _Epis._, xvi.
[216] _Ibid._
[217] See Figs. 12 and 76.
[218] “Intra limina sanctorum, quod multi cupiunt et rari
accipiunt.”
[219] “At Ippolytu super arcosohu,” (_sic_.)
[220] “Ad Santum Cornelium.” See also the epitaph on p. 132.
[221] “Apud sancti alicujus memoriam.”
[222] _De Curâ pro Mortuis Gerendâ_, written about A. D. 421.
[223] _Bullettino_, 1864, 33.
[224] _Les Trois Romes_, tom. iv, p. 39. Aringhi gives a
similar list in his chapter, De imperatoribus ac regibus, qui
apud Vaticanum sepulturæ traditi sunt.--_Roma Subterranea_,
lib. ii, c. 9.
[225] Chrys., _Quod Christus sit Deus_. See legend, p. 186.
[226] From _fodere_, _fossum_, to dig.
[227] Saint Emerita suffered martyrdom during the Valerian
persecution.
[228] Jerome strongly censures the making merchandise of the
resting-places of the dead--Quì sepulchra venditant, et non
coguntur ut accepiant pretium, sed a nolentibus etiam
extorquent.--_Quæst. Heb. in Gen._ xxiii.
[229] “Nocte Moab capta est, nocte cecidit murus ejus!” exclaims
Jerome.--_Ad Principiam._
[230] Gibbon, iii, 283. _Am. Ed._
[231] The following lines by Pope Vigilius, A. D. 537, describe
this event:
Dum peritura Getæ posuissent castra sub urbem,
Moverunt sanctis bella nefanda prius,
Totaque sacrilego verterunt corde sepulcra,
Martyribus quondam rite sacrata piis.
“Whilst the Goths had placed their camp, soon to perish, before
the city, they first waged unhallowed war against the saints, and
with sacrilegious mind destroyed whole sepulchres once solemnly
consecrated to the pious martyrs.”
During the fifth and sixth centuries cemeteries were opened
within the walls in consequence of the peril of venturing beyond
the gates.
[232] DIRVTA VIGILIVS NAM POSTHAEC PAPA GEMISCENS
HOSTIBVS EXPVLSIS OMNE NOVAVIT OPVS.--_Inscr. in Lateran._
“Pope Vigilius, afterwards lamenting the demolished monuments,
renewed the entire work after the expulsion of the enemy.”
[233] These Fathers quoted such passages as 2 Kings xiii, 21;
Eccles. xlviii, 13, 14; xlix, 10-15; Acts v, 15, and xix, 11, in
proof of the efficacy of relics.
[234] Hence in the celebration of the mass the priest kisses the
altar and invokes pardon “by the relics of the saints that are
there.”--See Missal. Optatus tells of a lady who used to kiss the
relics of he knew not what martyr, if martyr it were, before
communion.--Ante spiritualem cibum et potum, os nescio cujus
martyris, si tamen martyris, libare dicebatur.--_Oper._, lib. i.
[235] Membra martyrum, si tamen martyrum, venditant.--Aug., _de
Oper. Monach._
[236] Humatum corpus nemo ad alium locum transferat; nemo
martyrem distrahat, nemo mercetur.--Cod. Theod., _De Sepulchris
Violatis_, leg. 7.
[237] Omnino nulla memoria martyrum probabiliter acceptetur nisi
aut ibi corpus, aut aliquæ certe reliquæ sint.--_Conc. Carth._,
v, _Can._ 14.
[238] Sulpitii Severi, _Vita Martini_, cap. viii. Julian recoiled
from relic worship as from the stench of dead men’s bones. He
compared the churches to whited sepulchres full of rottenness and
of all uncleanness.
[239] Greg. Max., _Epis._ iv.
[240] At the time of the Reformation the reputed fragments of the
true cross, it is said, would have freighted a large ship. The
relics of the saints were hawked about the country from house to
house by pedlers who farmed their sale, paying a percentage to
the church or abbey to which they belonged. D’Aubigné’s _Hist.
Ref._, i., c. 3.
[241] On one occasion the blood refused to liquefy, on account,
said the priests, of the malign influence of the French. The
French general sent word that unless the miracle took place
within an hour his cannon should blow the church about their
ears. The blood liquefied immediately.
[242] The affidavit of its subject attests the miraculous cure,
probably of hysteria or hypochondria, recently wrought by a relic
from the Catacombs at the _Hôtel Dieu_ in Montreal, Canada.
[243] A nail of the true cross, says Gregory of Tours, thrown
into the Adriatic by Queen Radegunda, made it thenceforth one of
the safest seas to navigate instead of one of the stormiest.--_De
Gloria Martyrum._ Of another, Constantine made a bit for his
horse.
[244] The Iron Crown of Lombardy the Roman Congregation of Relics
has declared to be a sacred talisman, being made of a nail of the
Crucifixion, although the first authentic mention of it occurs in
the midnight of the dark ages, A. D. 888. From the time of
Charles V. no sovereign ventured to wear this sacred crown till
Napoleon, seeking to consecrate his usurped authority, with his
own hand placed it on his head at Milan, A. D. 1805, with the
vaunting words, “God hath given it me; let him take heed who
touches it.”--_Dieu me l’a donnée; gare à qui la touche._ It was
carried off from the cathedral of Monza by the Austrians in 1859.
[245] On marble tablets in the Church of St. Prassede, in Rome,
is an enumeration of its precious treasures, among which are a
tooth of St. Peter and one of St. Paul, part of the chemise of
the Virgin Mary--_de camisia beatæ Mariæ Virginis_, part of
Christ’s girdle--_de cingulo D. N. Jesu Christi_, part of Moses’
rod, some of the earth on which Christ prayed, also of the reed
and sponge, three spines of the crown of thorns, part of the
towel with which he washed his disciples’ feet, part of the
swaddling clothes--_pannis_--in which he was wrapped at his
nativity, and part of the seamless robe--_de veste inconsutili_.
The whole of this robe was formerly exhibited at Trêves, where
the deluded votaries of this Christian idolatry invoked its
intercession in the formula, “Holy Coat, pray for us!” In the
year 1854, in the official “Gazette of Vienna,” it was announced
that the tooth of St. Peter, given by Pius IX. to the Emperor of
Austria, would be for four days exposed to the sight and homage
of the faithful. Before the Reformation these relics were still
more puerile and absurd, and calculated to provoke a smile or
sneer as the humourist or the cynic predominated in the observer.
At the Church of All Saints at Wittemberg, says D’Aubigné, were
shown a fragment of Noah’s ark, some soot from the furnace of the
Three Hebrew Children, and nineteen thousand other relics. At
Schaffhausen was exhibited the breath of St. Joseph that
Nicodemus had received in his glove. At Wurtemberg might be seen
a feather plucked from the wing of the archangel Michael. (_Hist.
Ref._, i, c. 3.) Heywood, in his interlude of “The Four P’s,” one
of whom was a Pardoner, among his “relykes,” enumerates “Of
All-hallowes (that is, All-Saints) the blessed jaw-bone,” the
great toe of the Trinity, and others in which is a still stranger
mixture of absurdity and blasphemy. (See “Inquiry into the Origin
of the Reformation,” by the present writer, in _Evangel. Repos._,
London, Eng., Feb., 1865.) Augustine says the dung-heap on which
Job sat was still visited in his day! In St. Peter’s at Rome is
exhibited a coin said to be one of the thirty pieces of _gold_
(?) for which Judas betrayed his Master. They were made,
according to the legend, by Terah, Abraham’s father, who was a
famous artificer under King Nimrod. They were the price of the
field of Ephron, and also the coins with which Joseph was bought,
and with which his brethren purchased corn in Egypt. Despite the
anachronism, Moses is said to have given them as a dowry to the
Queen of Sheba, who presented them to Solomon. Nebuchadnezzar, it
is alleged, carried them away, and the Magi brought them back as
an offering to Christ. Finally Mary cast them into the treasury
of the Temple, whence the priests gave them to Judas for his
perfidy. (See _Bingham_, xiv, 4, § 18.)
The stone upon which the sovereigns of England are crowned is,
according to a venerable tradition, that which formed Jacob’s
pillow at Bethel.
In the cathedral of Genoa is deposited the wonderful cup known in
history as the Holy Grail, which in times of yore was the object
of so many knightly quests, and more recently the subject of so
many stately epics. It was a vessel composed of a single emerald
originally, (so runs the legend,) the marvellous cup wherewith
Joseph divined--the cup put into the mouth of Benjamin’s sack. It
was also the mystical cup of wisdom of Solomon, and, at length,
that out of which Christ partook of the Last Supper. Hence its
name, San Greal, that is, _sanguis realis_, the real blood.
Joseph of Arimathea brought it to Britain, but it mysteriously
disappeared in consequence of the laxness of the times. How it
came to Genoa does not clearly appear. From the time of Wolfram
von Eschenbach, a minnesinger of the thirteenth century, down to
Tennyson and Lowell, this has been a favourite subject of poetry.
See an article on the legend, by the writer, in _Harper’s
Weekly_, Feb. 5, 1870.
[246] As recently as the year 1870 the alleged relics of a newly
discovered St. Aureliana, a virgin martyr of the third century,
who is supposed to have been a member of the family of the Roman
emperor Aurelian, were transferred, with many religious
ceremonies, from the Catacombs to Cincinnati, in the United
States. In the Roman Catholic cathedral at Buffalo, N. Y., is a
slab from the Catacombs with the inscription, DP · PEREGRINVS XII
KAL · MARTIAS Q · VIXIT · M · --“Peregrinus, buried the twelfth
day before the calends of March, who lived ... months.” He was,
therefore, an infant; yet he is claimed to be a martyr, and a wax
figure of an adult man with gaping wounds exhibits the alleged
mode of his death. At its feet is placed what is said to be a
phial of the martyr’s blood. In the same church are also what is
described as “a large piece of the true cross on which trickled
the sacred blood of Christ,” and “particles of the bones of
Saints Peter and Paul and of many other holy martyrs.”
Maitland quotes an account from Mabillon of the reverence paid to
a certain St. Viar, founded on the discovery of a stone bearing
the letters S · VIAR. This was, however, found to be a fragment of
the inscription _PRAEFECTV_S · VIAR_VM_--“Curator of the Ways.”
There is absolutely no warrant whatever for such assumptions as
these. There is not in the whole range of Christian epigraphy a
single contemporary inscription of unquestioned genuineness which
can lead to the identification of the remains, name, and date of
a primitive martyr.
[247] Le plupart des corps saints trouvés dans les Catacombes
manquant de noms propre, ont reçu lorsqu’on les a exposés à la
vénération publique, des noms de circonstance, qui n’ont qu’une
signification vague; comme Felix, Fortunatus, Victor.--_Année
Liturgique à Rome_, p. 151.
[248] _Childe Harold._ Boniface IV. is said to have previously
transferred twenty-eight cartloads of relics from the Catacombs
to this place. He thus, as we read in barbaric verse on his
epitaph in the crypt of St. Peter’s, purified the shrine of all
the demons, and dedicated it to all the saints:
“--Templa ...
Delubra cunctorum fuerant quæ demonorum (_sic_)
Hic expurgavit sanctis cunctisque dicavit.”
[249] Quasi spelunca di ladron son fatti,
Tal ch’à buon solamente uscio si chiude;
E tra le altari, e tra statue ignude,
Ogni impressa crudel par che si tratti.
_Canzone xi._
[250] This ancient use of the Catacombs has not been forgotten in
modern times. That intrepid pontiff, Pius VII., rather than yield
to the demands of the first Napoleon, threatened to retire to
those gloomy recesses which had sheltered so many of the
primitive bishops.
[251] MacFarlane, p. 36.
[252] _Ibid._, 49, 50.
[253] “Fuit hic ad visitandum sanctum locum istum.”
[254] “Quidem Scoti hic fuerunt.”
[255] “Cum magnâ cometivâ.”
[256] “Unanimes antiquitatis amatores.”