The Campagna.—The Tarpeian Rock:—doubts as to its identity.—The Walls
of Servius Tullius,—and of Aurelian.—The Muro Torto.—The Wall of
Honorius, or the present wall.—Errors of Literary Men with respect
to measurement.—The Walls and Ruins of brick.—Limits of modern
Rome.—Rome.—Rome not a continued ruin like Pompeii.—The ruins
scattered, and well preserved.
I shall not enter into the ordinary details of description at Rome, but
treat it as I have treated places less celebrated, touching only on
those points that it has struck me are not familiarly known, or, at
least were not known to me; and this, too, in my own desultory manner;
for, as things have appeared to me differently from my expectations, so
shall I communicate them to you. Let us then commence with an outline of
the place, its general condition, and its _entourage_, before we proceed
to more minute accounts.
Of the Campagna I have already communicated to you some general notions.
It is not, however, literally a waste, for it bears grasses and even
grain in parts, and has some kitchen-gardens near the walls. The
portions nearest the mountains are sandy, but not bare; while you find
marshes as you approach the sea. The Campagna di Roma, properly so
termed, includes nearly the whole of ancient Latium, and is near three
hundred miles in extent; but, by convention, the Campagna is now
confined to the uncultivated district immediately around the city. Some
annex the Pontine Marshes, which join it in the direction of the sea;
but I think the Romans distinguish between the two. Much of the Campagna
is grazed, though I think less of it near the town than on the parts
more remote. I have seen spots of great fertility; but the portions of
it over which I usually gallop in my rides, (and I am now in the saddle
daily,)—rides that frequently extend eight or nine miles,—is a species
of common that merely bears a tolerable grass. There are spots that are
crowded with country-houses and gardens, particularly on the broken land
north of Rome; but, in general, this waste is singularly naked of
habitations, even up to the very ramparts of the town.
It is scarcely necessary to say, Rome has had various walls, which have
been enlarged as the place has grown, for this is the history of every
large walled town. It is, however, very necessary to know the positions
of these walls, in order to establish the positions of many of the most
interesting of the antiquities. Take, for instance, the Tarpeian
Rock,—an object not only of interest in itself, but of importance in
getting a clear idea of localities,—and we shall find that the heedless
are commonly led astray, not only as respects this particular spot, but
as respects others dependent on it. I mention this rock as its site is
closely connected with the course of the ancient walls.
Most travellers give themselves up to the guidance of common _laquais de
place_, who are dignified by the name of _ciceroni_; and even they who
are sceptical, and smile at much of what they hear, are more or less
imposed on by the ignorance and knavery of these men. We had one of
these ciceroni for a week or ten days, simply with a view to get
acquainted with the town, and he undertook to show us this Tarpeian Rock
among his other curiosities. We were led into a common garden on the
Capitol Hill, where a rock overlooked the site of the Forum, and were
told it was the place in question. Even the maps of Roma Antica, and
most of the guide-books, point out this spot as the Tarpeian Rock;
though, I believe, there are very satisfactory reasons for showing, that
while it must be near the celebrated place of punishment, this cannot be
it in very fact. Conversing on this subject with one of the most
industrious of the antiquaries here, he reasoned in this manner:—The
punishment of the Tarpeian Rock was both a poetical and a literal
punishment; the literal being death, and the poetical expulsion from the
city. By throwing a criminal from the rock that is commonly exhibited,
his body would be cast into the centre of the Forum, or into the heart
of the place; and hence he infers that it is not the true Tarpeian Rock.
There is, moreover, the narrative of a messenger of Camillus, I believe,
who was sent to Rome at the time it was besieged by the Gauls, who says
he landed at a particular point, and entered the town by climbing up the
Tarpeian Rock. This account confirms the opinion that this work must
look outward as regards the walls. The whole Capitol Hill is a rock,
covered with a thin soil; and I believe it is generally admitted that
the entire hill, or rock, bore the name of the unworthy Tarpeia, who is
understood to have been buried on it. This may certainly account for the
confusion in the names; though it would still seem that the precise
place of punishment must be different from that which is usually shown
as such. My antiquary pointed to a spot that is on the side of the hill
nearly opposite to the Forum, along the margin of which the wall was
known once to have run, and where the height, in addition to that of the
wall, or perhaps of one of its towers, would be sufficient to ensure
death, as would not be the case at the rock commonly seen, even after
allowing for the manner in which the Forum has been filled by rubbish.
Admitting his reasoning to be true, and it is certainly very plausible
if no more, you see the importance of understanding the sites of the
ancient walls.
Passing over the infancy of Rome, the two principal walls that succeeded
are that of Servius Tullius, and that of Aurelian. The first was built
about two centuries after the town had its origin. It included the
Capitol, Viminal, Quirinal, Esquiline, Palatine, Celian, and Aventine,
or the Seven Hills of Rome, with a small triangular piece of ground on
the other side of the Tiber, which did not, however, include the present
site of St. Peter’s. The space within these limits, would not exceed
that which is now covered by New York, below Bleecker street, and yet it
was the Rome of the Augustan age. The hills are not large, though some
are double the size of others. The Capitol and Palatine are both small,
particularly the former, which, agreeably to our mode of constructing,
could not hold a population to exceed two or three thousand, even with
narrow streets with high houses. Admitting the lowest numbers that are
given as the population of Rome at this period, it is difficult to
imagine where they all lived. Pompeii proves that the Romans did not
personally occupy much space, although the courts and gardens did. The
slaves, who must have composed a large portion of the population of
Rome, were probably crowded into a small space; and the great depth of
the _débris_ that now covers the ancient city proves that the materials
were abundant: from all which it is fair to infer that the dwellings
were of great height. The houses around Naples were low, probably on
account of frequent earthquakes, calamities that doubtless occurred
oftener before the great eruption of the volcano than since. After
making all these allowances, however, it will be necessary to people
suburbs of great extent, or to diminish, by more than half, the popular
accounts of the number of the inhabitants.
The emperor Aurelian, fearful that the town might be taken by surprise,
on account of the extent of the suburbs, about the year 276, caused new
walls to be built. These walls in no place touched the wall of Servius
Tullius, and may have a little more than doubled the size of the
_enceinte_. These walls still exist, or, at least, walls exist that are
attributed equally to Aurelian and Honorius, who lived more than a
century later. Some of the antiquaries contend that the walls of
Aurelian included a space more than twice, or even thrice as great as
that contained within the present walls, and thus account for the mode
of accommodating the population, which they complacently take at the
highest number. A writer, who was a contemporary of Aurelian, affirms
that the wall of this emperor was fifty miles in circuit; and Vasi
appears to adopt his account of the matter, though he is obliged to
admit that no traces exist of these prodigiously extensive works.
It strikes me that there are several serious objections to this
explanation. In the first place, it is impossible to believe that traces
would not exist of these walls had they ever been built, when the walls
constructed a little more than a century later are standing almost
perfect. Allowing that _all_ of the present wall is not as old as
Honorius, which probably is the case, a part certainly is. There is a
portion of the present wall that is called the _Muro Torto_, or the
Crooked Wall, from the circumstance that it is so much out of the
perpendicular as to excite apprehensions of its falling on the stranger
who passes beneath it. Now there is a writer of the time of Belisarius,
(530–40,) who says that this wall was exactly in such a condition in his
day. It is difficult to believe that this should be the fact, and that
all traces of the wall of Aurelian, which was built only two centuries
and a half earlier, should have been lost. But it may be said this was a
part of Aurelian’s wall, for it is the foundation of Domitian’s gardens,
of unusual thickness and strength, and was made use of for the new city
wall on that account, and that the wall of Aurelian still contained a
circuit of fifty miles. If the _Muro Torto_ be in truth a part of
Aurelian’s wall, then are not all traces of his wall lost; and it is
very improbable that an emperor who was about to increase the walls of
the city, which, exceedingly irregular, had a circuit of less than eight
miles, to a circuit of more than forty-five of our miles, should choose
to extend the town so short a distance towards the north, the quarter
that was the most agreeable and the most healthy, and yet as far in the
other directions as would be necessary to make up the required distance.
In point of fact, the space between the wall of Servius and the present
wall is much greater in this direction than in any other; the object
having been, probably, to include the whole of the Campus Martius and
the Pincian Hill.
The present wall is said to be sixteen Roman miles and a half in
circuit, which would be not far from fifteen of our miles. I have often
ridden round them on my morning’s excursions, or nearly round them, and
I take this to be near the distance; though the present _enceinte_ of
the Transtiberina, or the part of the town west of the Tiber, is much
larger now, than when the wall of Honorius, or the present wall, existed
in that quarter also. Paris, including soldiers and strangers, has often
contained a million of souls, although the town has an unusual number of
gardens, with many wide streets and public places, besides palaces and
hotels without number; and yet Paris does not fill its walls, by perhaps
a fifth of the entire surface. Were the _enceinte_ of Paris compactly
built up, two millions might comfortably dwell within the walls, and at
need, by packing the people, as they were evidently packed at Pompeii
and Herculaneum, three millions. The circuit of the walls of Paris is
about eighteen miles. This would allow Rome to contain a million and a
half or two millions within the present limits; and what good authority
is there for supposing it ever had more people?
Rome was divided into fourteen quarters in the time of Augustus. These
divisions have descended down to our own time, and, although the names
are changed, it is probable they are essentially the same. Aurelian
lived near the end of the third century, and in the fourth century these
fourteen quarters bore the following names, viz. Porta Capena,
Cœlimontana, Isis et Serapis, Via Sacra, Esquilina, Alta Semita, Via
Lata, Forum Romanum, Circus Flaminius, Palatium, Circus Maximus, Piscina
Publica, Aventina, and Transtiberina. It is easy to trace the situation
of all of these quarters within the present walls. Is it probable that
Rome increased so much in the two centuries and a half that succeeded
Augustus, as to require, that a space contained in a circuit of sixteen
Roman miles and a half should be extended to a circuit of fifty, in
order to receive the people? I do not believe it.
What then becomes of the statement of Vopiscus, the authority quoted by
M. Vasi? I know nothing of him; but any man of observation must know
that writers of a higher order of genius frequently betray great
ignorance of positive things, and of nothing more than measurement. Sir
Walter Scott, in his Life of Napoleon, says, “By the treaty of
Presburgh, Austria is said to have lost _one million of square miles of
territory, two millions and a half of subjects_, and a revenue to the
amount of ten millions and a half of florins!” &c. &c.; and in speaking
of another treaty, an error quite as gross appears. In the edition I
read, letters were introduced, rendering the blunder still more
serious.[4] Here the great poet, in a grave history, makes a fragment of
the Austrian empire near four times as great as the whole empire, and
almost a fifth as large as all Europe. Comparing population with
surface, he makes the ratio about two souls and a half to the square
mile, and that in a country where it probably exceeds three hundred.[5]
Perhaps no men are less to be trusted in matters of this sort than
purely literary men, and yet they usually produce the books. Let us
suppose the art of printing unknown, and the only authority for the life
of Napoleon, or rather for this one fact, to be, twenty centuries hence,
a manuscript of a certain great author called Scotius, what marvels
might not posterity believe of the extent of the Austrian empire!—such,
probably, as M. Vasi would have us believe of the extent of Rome, on the
authority of this Vopiscus. It is of no moment to the result, whether
this error in the history of Napoleon was the consequence of ignorance
or want of care in the author, or a blunder in the compositor. The
circumstance, had it not been corrected, would have stood recorded; and
in a manuscript, or an edition might, in the lapse of centuries, pass
for an established fact, on the authority of a great name.
Footnote 4:
In the subsequent editions these errors of the author, or blunders of
the press, which ever they may be, have been corrected.
Footnote 5:
Mr. Washington Irving, in his Life of Columbus, vol. i. p. 83, has the
following:—“Between them is placed the island of Cipango, or Japan,
which, according to Marco Polo, lay fifteen hundred miles distant from
the Asiatic coast. _In his computation, Columbus advanced this island
about a thousand leagues too much to the east, supposing it to be
about in the situation of Florida, and at this island he hoped first
to arrive._” The _centre_ of Florida and the centre of the island of
Japan lie about 130° asunder. A degree of longitude in those latitudes
will average somewhere about fifty miles, (this is approximative, not
calculated,) which will give _two_ thousand leagues as the distance
between them.
I have little doubt that we now see, essentially, the form and
dimensions of the wall of Aurelian, if not the wall itself. Some
alterations, we know, have been made, for the gates are changed, and it
is probable, the wall, in places, has also undergone repairs; but it is
not much more difficult to believe that the walls which are now standing
are sixteen hundred years old, than to believe they are fourteen, or of
the time of Honorius.
I leave you to judge of the feelings with which I ride beneath these
walls. The Muro Torto in particular gives me great satisfaction, as one
can be reasonably certain that he sees the identical bricks in the
identical places they have occupied since the time of Domitian, or near
eighteen hundred years. You will be surprised to hear that these walls
are nearly all of bricks, as indeed are the aqueducts, temples, and most
of the other ruins of Rome. Augustus boasted that he found the city of
bricks and left it of marble; but time has left it of bricks again. This
contradiction is explained by the fact that the marbles which cased most
of the brickwork, in the baths, temples, palaces, and amphitheatres,
have been removed for other works, and also by the fact that the saying
of Augustus is not to be taken too literally.
You will be surprised, perhaps, at receiving these accounts so soon, and
to find me speaking already of the environs of Rome with so much
familiarity, on a month’s acquaintance. Soon after reaching the Eternal
City, I hired a saddle-horse, to accompany my old friend the —— of —— in
his morning rides; and besides having the advantage of a learned
cicerone, who has passed years in Rome, I have made the discovery, that
one in the saddle can see more of this place in a week, than is seen in
a month by those who use carriages, or who go on foot. You will better
understand this by getting a clearer idea of the actual condition of the
town and its environs.
The wall which, right or wrong, is called that of Aurelian, is said to
be sixteen Roman miles and a half in circuit, being separated into two
parts by the Tiber. Of the part east of the river, which contains Rome
proper, about one-third, or perhaps a little less, is occupied by the
modern town: the remainder is in common gardens, villas, and ruins, many
of the latter being scattered over the whole surface. You are not to
suppose, however, that any part of Rome to-day exhibits the appearance
of a continued ruined town, like Pompeii, with its streets, and squares.
Though in the vicinity of the Forum there is an approach to such a
character, it is not distinct and intelligible at a glance, as at
Pompeii. So many objects are crowded together at this spot, as to render
it the centre of interest, it is true; but it is far from preserving its
outlines, as it existed of old. Even the site of the Forum has been
disputed. The ruins, in general, are scattered, and, with comparatively
few exceptions, are far from being well preserved. They are vast,
particularly the baths, but not very distinct; and the _coup d’œil_
gives an air of desolation to that part of the _enceinte_. They require
study and investigation to excite a very deep interest, or, at least, an
interest beyond that which accompanies the general reflection that one
sees the remains of Rome.
The modern town east of the river luckily covers little beside the
Campus Martius; all in the region of the palace, the circuses, and the
baths being virtually unoccupied. Houses there certainly are scattered
over the space within the walls, and churches too; but, after all, they
produce no very sensible effect on the general appearance of the place.
Beyond the proper limits of the modern town, the prevailing character is
that of antiquity and ruin a little impaired perhaps by the presence of
the gardens and garden-walls.
Much of the site of old Rome, or the region about the Seven Hills, is
enclosed in these walls; but much also lies in common. One can enter
many of the enclosures too, and a horse enables me to see whether there
is any thing within worthy of examination. As my object is less
antiquarian research, than such pictures as may help to give you better
ideas of things than are to be got from generalities, in my next letter
I will take you with me in one of these morning rides, that you may see
objects as they present themselves, as well as one can see who is
obliged to use another’s eyes.