of Marcellus; it was erected by Augustus, in honour of his sister
Octavia. This portico formed a parallelogram, composed of a double row
of two hundred and seventy Corinthian columns of white marble, adorned
with statues, enclosing a court, in which were two temples, dedicated to
Jupiter and Juno, a library, and a large hall for the exhibition of
paintings. A small portion of the portico, being one of the entrances,
is all that now remains. Many of the pillars are, however, supposed to
be built up in the neighbouring houses.
The general use, porticoes were put to, was the pleasure of walking or
riding in them; in the shade in summer, and in winter in the day; like
the present piazzas in Italy. Velleius Paterculus, when he deplores the
extreme corruption of manners that had crept into Rome upon the
conclusion of the Carthaginian war, mentions particularly the vanity of
the noblemen, in endeavouring to outshine one another in the
magnificence of their porticoes, as a great instance of their
extraordinary luxury. Juvenal thus alludes to them:—
On sumptuous baths the rich their wealth bestow,
Or some expensive airy portico;
Where safe from showers they may be borne in state;
And, free from tempests, for fair weather wait:
Or rather not expect the clearing sun;
Through thick and thin their equipage must run:
Or staying, ’tis not for their servants’ sake,
But that their mules no prejudice may take.
The _Naumachiæ_, or places for the shows of sea engagements[160], are
nowhere particularly described; but we may suppose them to be very
little different from the circus or amphitheatres; since those sort of
shows, for which they were designed, were often exhibited. The
_Naumachiæ_ owed their original to the time of the first Punic war, when
the Romans first initiated their men in the knowledge of sea-affairs.
After the improvement of many years, they were designed as well for
gratifying the sight, as for increasing their naval experience and
discipline; and therefore composed one of the solemn shows by which the
magistrates or emperors, or any affecters of popularity, so often made
their court to the people.
The usual accounts we have of these exercises seem to represent them as
nothing else but the image of a naval fight. But it is probable that
sometimes they did not engage in any hostile manner, but only rowed
fairly for the victory. This conjecture may be confirmed by the
authority of Virgil, who is acknowledged by all the critics, in his
descriptions of the games and exercises to have had an eye always to
his own country, and to have drawn them after the manner of the Roman
sports. Now the sea contention, which he presents us with, is barely a
trial of swiftness in the vessels, and of skill in managing the oars, as
is most admirably delivered in his fifth book[161].
Warm baths were first introduced into Rome by Mæcenas. There cannot be a
greater instance of the magnificence of the Romans than their bagnios.
Ammianus Marcellinus observes, that they were built “in modum
provinciarum,” as large as provinces; but the great Valesius judges the
word provinciarum to be a corruption of piscinarum. And though this
emendation does in some measure extenuate one part of the vanity which
has been so often alleged against them, from the authority of that
passage of the historian, yet the prodigious accounts we have of their
ornaments and furniture, will bring them, perhaps, under a censure no
more favourable than the former. Seneca, speaking of the luxury of his
countrymen in this respect, complains that they were arrived to such a
pitch of niceness and delicacy, as to scorn to set their feet on any
thing but precious stones. And Pliny wishes good old Fabricius were but
alive to see the degeneracy of his posterity, when the very women must
have their seats in the baths of solid silver. Of the luxury and
magnificence of the Roman bath, we have an interesting account in
Seneca; we borrow the old translation, it being somewhat of a
curiosity:—
“Of the countrie-house of Africanus, and bath:
“Lying in the verie towne (villa) of Scipio Africanus, I write these
things unto thee, having adored the spirit of him and the altar, which I
suppose to be the sepulcher of so great a man. * * I saw that towne
builded of four-square stone, a wall compassing about a wood, towers
also set under both sides of the towne for a defence. A cisterne laid
under the buildings, and green places, which was able to serve even an
armie of men. A little narrow bathe, somewhat darke, as the olde fashion
was. None seemed warme for our ancestors except it were obscure. Great
pleasure entered into me, beholding the manners of Scipio and of us. In
this corner that horrour of Carthage, to whom Rome is in debt that it
was taken but once, washed his bodie, wearied with the labours of the
countrie: for he exercised himselfe in worke, and he himself tilled the
earth, as the fashion of the ancients was. He stood upon this so base a
roofe,—this so mean a floore sustained him. But now who is he that can
sustaine to be bathed thus? Poore and base seemeth he to himself, except
the walls have shined with great and precious rounds, except Alexandrian
marbles be distinguished with Numidian roofe-caste, except the chamber
be covered over with glasse, except stone of the Ile Thassus, once a
rare gazing-stocke in some church (temple), have compassed about our
ponds into which we let down our bodies exhausted by much labour; except
silver cocks have poured out water unto us. And as yet I speake of the
conduits of the common sort; what when I shall come to the bathes of
freedmen? What profusion of statues is there; what profusion of columns
holding nothing up, but placed for ornament, merely on account of the
expense? What quantity of waters sliding downe upon staires with a great
noise? To that delicacie are we come, that men will not tread but upon
precious stones. In this bathe of Scipio, there be verie small chinckes,
rather than windowes, cut out in the stone wall, that without hurt of
the fense they should let the light in. But now they are called the
bathes of moths, if any be not framed so as to receive, with most large
windows, the sunne all the day long, except they be bathed and coloured
(sunburnt) at the same time, except from the bathing vessel they look
upon both land and sea. But in old time there were few bathes, neither
were they adorned with any trimming up. For why should a thing of a
farthing worth be adorned, and which is invented for use, and not for
delight? Water was not poured in, neither did it alwaies, as from a warm
fountain, runne fresh. But, O the good gods! how delightful it was to
enter into those bathes, somewhat darke and covered with plaster of the
common sort, which thou diddest know that Cato, the overseer of the
buildings (ædile), or Fabius Maximus, or some one of the Cornelii, had
tempered for you with his own hand! For the most noble ædiles performed
this duty also of going into those places which received the people, and
of exacting cleanliness, and an useful and healthie temperature; not
this which is lately found out, like unto a setting on fire, so that it
is meet indeed to be washed alive, as a slave convicted of some crime.
It seemeth to me now to be of no difference, whether the bathe be
scalding hot or be but warme. Of how great rusticity do some now condemn
Scipio, because into his warm bathe he did not with large windowes (of
transparent stone) let in the light? O miserable man! He knew not how to
live; he was not washed in strained water, but oftentimes in turbid,
and, when more vehemently it did rain, in almost muddy water.”
The more extensive and best-preserved baths now remaining in Rome are
those of Titus, Antoninus, Caracalla, and Dioclesian. In the time of
Ammianus Marcellinus there were sixteen public baths. These were
surrounded by extensive gardens; and the main buildings were used, some
for bathing and swimming; some for athletic exercises; and others for
lectures, recitation, and conversation. They were splendidly fitted up,
and furnished with considerable libraries.
The ruins of what are called the baths of Titus extend to a great area.
The site is, to a considerable extent, occupied by gardens; in various
parts of which are to be seen fragments, all once belonging to the same
edifice. This building seems to have consisted of two stories. Of the
upper one little remains; but of the lower there are more than thirty
rooms accessible.
“We passed,” says the author of ‘Rome in the Nineteenth Century,’
describing a visit to the baths, “the mouths of nine long corridors,
converging together like the radii of the segment of a circle, divided
from each other by dead walls, covered at the top, and closed at the
end. They must always have been dark. Having passed these corridors, we
entered the portal of what is called the house of Mæcenas. It is known
that the house and gardens of Mæcenas stood in this part of the
Esquiline-hill, which, before it was given him by Augustus, was the
charnel-ground of the common people. The conflagration in Nero’s reign
did not reach to them; and it is believed, that a part of them was taken
by Nero into his buildings, and by Titus into his baths. Antiquaries
think they can trace a difference in the brick-work and style of
building, between what they consider as the erection of Augustus’s and
that of Titus’s age: and on these grounds, the parts they point out as
vestiges of the house of Mæcenas, are the entrance, which leads into a
range of square and roofless chambers (called, on supposition, the
public baths), and the wall on the right in passing through them, which
is partially formed of reticulated building in patches. From these real
or imaginary classic remains, we entered a damp and dark corridor, the
ceiling of which is still adorned with some of the most beautiful
specimens, that now remain, of the paintings of antiquity. Their
colouring is fast fading away, and their very outline, I should fear,
must be obliterated at no very distant period; so extreme is the
humidity of the place, and so incessantly does the water-drop fall. By
the light of a few trembling tapers elevated on the top of a long
bending cane, we saw, at least twenty feet above our heads, paintings in
arabesque, executed with a grace, a freedom, a correctness of design,
and a masterly command of pencil, that awakened our highest admiration,
in spite of all the disadvantages under which they were viewed. * * *
Leaving the painted corridor, which is adorned with these beautiful
specimens of ancient art, we entered halls, which, like it, must always
have been dark, but are still magnificent. The bright colouring of the
crimson stucco, the alcove still adorned with gilding, and the ceilings
beautifully painted with fantastic designs, still remain in many parts
of them; but how chill, how damp, how desolate are now these gloomy
halls of imperial luxury! No sound is to be heard through them, but that
of the slow water-drop. In one of these splendid dungeons, we saw the
remains of a bath, supposed to have been for the private use of the
emperor. In another we were shown the crimson-painted alcove, where the
Laocöon was found in the reign of Leo the Tenth. The French, who cleared
out a great many of these chambers, found nothing but the Pluto and
Cerberus, now in the Capitol, a work of very indifferent sculpture.”
Another critic (Knight) has estimated these paintings rather
differently. “The paintings on the walls,” says he, “consist chiefly
of what we now call arabesques; the figures are all very small, and
arranged in patterns and borders. They consist of birds and beasts;
among which some green parrots may be seen very distinctly; the ground
is generally a rich dark red. At the end of one of these rooms is a
large painting of some building, in which the perspective is said
to be correctly given. This seems to disprove the charge which has
been brought against the ancient painters, of not understanding the
rules of perspective; none of these paintings can, however, be justly
regarded as specimens of ancient art; they were intended solely as
decorations to the apartments, and were doubtless the work of ordinary
house-painters. To judge of the proficiency of the ancient painters
from such remains as these would be as unfair, to use Dr. Burton’s
remark, as to estimate the state of the arts in England from the
sign-posts. Where the walls of the rooms are bare, the brick-work has a
most singular appearance of freshness; the stucco also is very perfect
in many parts; but the marble, of which there are evident traces on the
walls of the floors, is gone.”
The ruins of the baths of Caracalla are so extensive, that they occupy a
surface equal to one-sixteenth of a square mile. Next to the Coliseum,
they present the greatest mass of ancient building in Rome. “At each
end,” says Mr. Eustace, “were two temples; one dedicated to Apollo, and
the other to Æsculapius, as the tutelary deities of the place, sacred to
the improvement of the mind, and the care of the body: the two other
temples were dedicated to the two protecting divinities of the Antonine
family; Hercules and Bacchus. In the principal building were, in the
first place, a grand circular vestibule, with four baths on each side,
for cold, tepid, warm, and sea baths; in the centre was an immense
square for exercise, when the weather was unfavourable for it in the
open air: beyond it is a marble hall, where sixteen hundred marble
seats were placed for the convenience of the bathers; at each end of
this hall were libraries. This building terminated on both sides with a
court, surrounded with porticoes, with an odeum for music, and in the
middle a spacious basin for swimming. Round this edifice were walks
shaded by rows of trees, particularly the plane; and in its front
extended a gymnasium, for running, wrestling, &c., in fine weather. The
whole was surrounded by a vast portico, opening into spacious halls,
where the poets declaimed, and philosophers gave lectures to their
auditors.”
The following account is from the author of Rome in the Nineteenth
Century. “We passed through a long succession of immense halls, open to
the sky, whose pavements of costly marbles, and rich mosaics, long since
torn away, have been supplied by the soft green turf, that forms a
carpet more in unison with their deserted state. The wind sighing
through the branches of the aged trees, that have taken root in them,
without rivalling their loftiness, was the only sound we heard; and the
bird of prey, which burst through the thick ivy of the broken wall far
above us, was the only living object we beheld. These immense halls
formed part of the internal division of the Thermæ, which was entirely
devoted to purposes of amusement. The first of the halls, or walled
enclosures, that you enter, and several of the others, have been open in
the centre. These were surrounded by covered porticos, supported by
immense columns of granite, which have long since been carried away;
chiefly by the popes, and princes of the Farnese family. In consequence
of their loss the roofs fell with a concussion so tremendous, that it is
said to have been felt even in Rome, like the distant shock of an
earthquake. Fragments of this vaulted roof are still lying at the
corners of the porticoes. The open part, in the centre, was probably
designed for athletic sports. Many have been the doubts and disputes
among the antiquaries, which of these halls have the best claims to be
considered as the once wonderful Cella Solearis. All are roofless now;
but the most eastern of them, that which is farthest to the left on
entering, and which evidently had windows, seems generally to enjoy the
reputation. Besides these enormous halls, there are, on the western side
of these ruins, the remains of a large circular building, and a great
number of small divisions, of all sizes and forms, in their purpose
wholly incomprehensible; except that they belonged to that part of the
Thermæ destined for purposes of amusement. Nothing can now be known; and
though the immense extent of the baths may be traced, far from hence, by
the wide-spreading ruins, it is equally difficult and unprofitable to
explore them any further.”
In these baths were discovered (A. D. 1540), the celebrated Farnese
Hercules; also the famous Flora (1540); and the Farnese Bull, in 1544.
In those of Titus, the Belvidere Meleager; and the wonderful group,
entitled the Laocöon; and not far from them the exquisite figure of
Antinous.
Columns, or pillars,[162] were none of the meanest beauties of the city.
They were at least converted to the same design as the arches; for the
honourable memorial of some noble victory or exploit; after they had
been a long time in use for the chief ornament of the sepulchres of
great men.
There are three columns more celebrated than the rest. These are, the
pillars of Trajan, of Antoninus, and of Phocas. The first of these was
set up in the middle of Trajan’s Forum; being composed of twenty-four
great stones of marble;[163] but so curiously cemented, as to seem one
entire natural stone. The height was one hundred and forty-four feet,
according to Eutropius; though Marlian seems to make them but one
hundred and twenty-eight: yet they are easily reconciled, if we suppose
one of them to have begun the measure from the pillar itself, and the
other from the basis. It is ascertained on the inside by one hundred and
eighty-five winding stairs, and has forty little windows for the
admission of light. The noblest ornament of this pillar was the statue
of Trajan at the top, of a gigantic height; being no less than
twenty-five feet high. He was represented in a coat of armour, proper to
the general, holding in his left hand a sceptre; in his right a hollow
globe of gold, in which his ashes were deposited after his death.
The subjects of the bas-reliefs, as we have already stated, are the
victories of Trajan, in his Dacian campaign[164]. The whole number of
figures sculptured is about 2,500; and the figure of Trajan himself is
repeated more than fifty times. At the lower part of the column, the
human figures are about two feet high; as they ascend, and thus become
further removed from the eye, their size is increased, till, at the top
of the column, they have nearly double the height that they have below.
These bas-reliefs are executed with great delicacy and spirit; but they
possess a higher value of a different kind. “The Roman dress and
manners,” says Dr. Burton, “may receive a considerable light from them.
We find the soldiers constantly carrying their swords on the right side.
On a march they are generally bare-headed; some have no helmets at all;
others wear them suspended to their right shoulder; each of them carries
a stick over the left shoulder, which seems to have been for the
purpose of carrying their provisions. We may observe also a wallet, a
vessel for wine, and a machine for dressing meat.”
Their shields[165] were oblong, with different devices upon them; their
standards of various kinds; pictures also were used; which were
portraits of gods, or heroes. The soldiers wear upon their legs a kind
of light pantaloons, reaching a little below the knee, and not buttoned.
The Dacians have loose pantaloons, reaching to the ankle, and shoes;
they also carry curved swords. The Sarmatian cavalry, allies of
Decabalus (the Dacian king) wear plated armour, covering the men and
horses. Their armour was a covering of thin circular plates, which were
adapted to the movements of the body, and drawn over all their limbs; so
that in whatever direction they wished to move, their clothing allowed
them free play, by the close fitting of its joints. Some Roman soldiers
have also plate-armour; but they are archers. The horses have saddles,
or rather cloths, which are fastened by cords round the breast, and
under the tail. The Dacian horses are without this covering; and the
Germans, or some other allies, have neither saddles nor bridles to their
horses. We might observe several other particulars, such as a bridge of
boats over a river, and that the boats everywhere are without a rudder,
but are guided by an oar, fastened with a thong on one side of the
stern. The wall of the camp has battlements, and the heads of the
Dacians are stuck to it. The Dacian women are represented burning the
Roman prisoners. We may also see the testudo, formed by soldiers putting
their shields together in a compact mass over their backs. Victory is
represented as writing with a pen on a shield[166].
The column of Antoninus was raised in imitation of this, which it
exceeded in one respect; that it was one hundred and seventy-six feet
high. The work was much inferior to that of Trajan’s, as being
undertaken in the declining age of the empire. The ascent on the inside
was by one hundred and six stairs, and the windows in the sides
fifty-six. The sculpture and the other monuments were of the same nature
as those of the first; and on the top stood a colossus of the emperor,
naked, as appears from some of his coins. Both these columns are still
standing; the former most entire. But Pope Sixtus V., instead of the
statues of the emperors, set up St. Peter’s, on the column of Trajan,
and St. Paul’s, on that of Antoninus.
The historical columns[167] are true to no order of architecture.
Trajan’s has a Tuscan base and capital, and a pedestal with Corinthian
mouldings. That of M. Aurelius repeats the same mixture; but its
pedestal is restored: and though higher, both in proportion and in
place, than Trajan’s, does not associate so well with its shaft. These
are the only regular pedestals that are observed in Roman antiquity.
Next to these may be classed the column of Phocas[168]. So recently as
twenty-four years ago, the whole of its base, and part of the shaft,
were buried in the soil; and up to that time, the ingenuity of the
learned was severely tried, in the attempt to find for it a name. One
thought it a fragment of the Græcostasis; another adjudged it to a
temple of Jupiter Custos; and a third urged the claim of Caligula’s
bridge. At length, it was thought that, possibly, the column might
originally have been isolated, and thus in itself a complete monument;
that, consequently, if the earth at its foot were removed, a pedestal
might be uncovered with some inscriptions thereon. The Duchess of
Devonshire had recourse to this simple expedient, in the year 1813; the
base of the column was laid open, and upon it an inscription was found,
recording the fact, that a gilt statue was placed on the top of it in
the year 608, in honour of the emperor Phocas, by Smaragdus, exarch of
Italy.
The material of the column is Greek marble, the capital is Corinthian,
and the shaft is fluted. The height is forty-six feet, but as it stands
upon a pyramid of eleven steps, its elevation is increased about eleven
feet.
The seventh Basilica stands about two miles from the walls; the church
itself is a fine building, restored in 1611; but the portico, of antique
marble columns, is of the time of Constantine. Under the church are the
openings to very extensive catacombs, originally formed no doubt by the
ancient Romans, to procure pozzolana for their buildings; and enlarged
by the early Christians, who used them as places of refuge during their
persecutions, and as _cemeteries_, one hundred and seventy thousand of
them having, it is said, been interred there. The passages are from two
to three feet in width, and extend several miles in different
directions.