by shafts, an enormous mass of malachite was detected at the depth
of two hundred and eighty feet. These strings of green copper ore
occurring at intervals were followed downward, when, increasing
with width and value, they were found to terminate at the base of
the present mine in an immense irregularly shaped mass of solid
malachite. When we examined this mass, much of the surrounding matrix
had been removed, and it presented an appearance of having been cast
in a depression of the stone. We are disposed to view it as having
resulted from copper solutions emanating from all the porous, loose,
surrounding mass, and which, trickling through it to the lowest
cavity in the subjacent rock, have in a series of ages produced this
wonderful subterranean incrustation.”
[Sidenote: SPLENDOR OF MALACHITE COLUMNS.]
In the great Exhibition of 1851, and in the Paris Exposition of
1867, wonderful specimens of this curious production of nature were
exhibited. There were large doors of solid malachite, polished to the
smoothness of mirrors, and the material was exhibited cut in various
shapes. It is used for the manufacture of vases of all sizes, and is
frequently worn as jewelry. In the Paris Exposition one piece was
exhibited nearly ten feet in length. It was in its rough state, with
the exception of one side, where it was highly polished.
In some of the Russian churches, particularly in the Church of St.
Isaacs, at St. Petersburg, there are pillars twenty, thirty, and fifty
feet in height, apparently of solid malachite. I say apparently, for
the reason that the pillars are really of granite, and have been
veneered with malachite. Some years ago, a vase was sent as a present
by the Emperor of Russia to His Holiness the Pope, and has since been
on exhibition in the Vatican. The vase is large enough to enable His
Holiness to use it, if he so desired, as a bath-tub, or an aquarium.
To the untaught spectator it is apparently of pure malachite, but a
close observer will discover the lines where its fragments, or more
properly the fragments of its veneering, are joined, for the vase is
of stone covered with malachite, just as the pillars in St. Isaacs
Church are covered. It is very pretty and very valuable, and visitors
often remain long around it to study its beauty.
The annual production of copper is about eighty thousand tons. Of
this, Great Britain and Chili produce about one fourth each, Russia
produces one eighth, and America about one tenth. The rest of the
production is shared by various parts of South America, by Cuba,
by Sweden and Norway, Australia, and various parts of Europe. Asia
produces about one twentieth of the full amount, but from Africa and
Southern Europe only a small quantity is obtained.
LVIII.
THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.
THEIR AGE AND EXTENT.—THE SEVEN HILLS HONEYCOMBED.—HOW THE
CATACOMBS WERE MADE.—THEIR USES.—THE CHRISTIAN MARTYRS.—IMMENSE
BURIAL VAULTS.—MILLIONS OF PERSONS BURIED.—RESORTS OF
ROBBERS.—STRANGE ADVENTURES.—VISITING THE CHURCH OF THE
CAPUCHINS.—FANCY OF AN IRREVERENT AMERICAN.—DOWN THE
CATACOMBS.—STORY OF THE GUIDE.—STRANGE EXPERIENCE OF TWO AMERICANS.
Many cities of the old world can boast of catacombs. Those of Paris
are famous in their way for the large number of skeletons which have
been deposited in them. The catacombs in and near other cities have
the same peculiarity, and the walls are frescoed and festooned with
bones which are placed so as to form fantastic shapes, reflecting much
credit upon the persons who arranged them.
The catacombs of Rome are quite interesting, partly from their
character and partly from the associations connected with them. Many
of them are of great antiquity, and can be traced back nearly to the
time when the city was founded. The rock on which Rome is built was
of volcanic origin. It is a soft, yellow stone, generally known as
_tufa_, and can be quarried very easily. The workmen shaped their
shafts pretty much as they pleased, the stone in many places being
so soft that it could be cut with an axe. Some of them are more
ancient even than the city which Romulus and Remus founded, and they
are so extensive that the original seven hills on which Rome stands
were perforated and honey-combed by enormous passages and galleries,
in which one might easily be lost. As the building of the city
progressed, the quarries were extended, some of them several miles
away from the banks of the Tiber. During the time of the prosperity
of Rome these quarries were opened in every direction, and were
steadily worked until the city began to decline, and the materials of
the old buildings were used for the construction of new ones.
[Sidenote: DESTROYING THE COLISEUM.]
For a good many hundred years Rome has had very little occasion
to open new quarries, as the old stone inside the city is quite
sufficient for most of the building purposes of the present day.
For several centuries some of the great works constructed by the
emperors were torn down to furnish building material. A great part
of the Coliseum was removed in this way. Thousands of tons of stone
were carried off, but the work was so vast that, in spite of all the
efforts of man to destroy it, it remains to-day a gigantic monument of
the greatness and glory of Rome.
Beneath the modern city of Rome there are many underground passages
which are not generally classed with the catacombs. The most
interesting of the catacombs, those which furnished homes and
hiding-places for the early Christians, are outside the walls of
the modern city, and are visited annually by a great many persons.
It is not clear for what purpose these places were used after their
abandonment as quarries, but it is generally believed they were the
resort of robbers and other persons who were escaping from or avoiding
justice. At the present time a close watch is kept over them, to
prevent their occupation by brigands or other violators of the law.
Only a few years ago a band of robbers had their headquarters in one
of the catacombs, and carried on their depredations for several months
before their place of concealment was discovered.
During the time of the persecution of the Christians, beginning with
that under Nero, and followed by those of several other emperors, down
to the last persecution, a great many persons who could not be safe
anywhere else crowded into the catacombs. Some of them lived there for
years, while many others spent the greater part of their time there,
and only went to the surface at night. Many of the workmen around
the quarries were very early converted to Christianity, and it is
supposed that they greatly aided their fellow-Christians in finding
secure places of retreat.
[Sidenote: EXPLORING THE CATACOMBS.]
Very little attention was paid to the catacombs until nearly fourteen
hundred years after the beginning of the Christian era. By that time
the catacombs had ceased to be the abode of Christians, as it was no
longer necessary for them to conceal themselves. Outlaws and assassins
were gathered in large numbers in the catacombs, and it required very
vigorous efforts on the part of the authorities to drive them out. The
entrances to many of these places were closed altogether, and have
remained closed ever since, so that there are numerous under-passages
below and around the city of Rome which have not been visited for
thousands of years, and their locality even is not known.
In 1535 the pope ordered some of the catacombs to be explored, and
directed that they should be cleared and lighted. A great interest was
awakened in subterranean Rome, and Father Bosio devoted about thirty
years of his life to the exploration of the catacombs. He opened the
way into some of the places which had been blocked up and closed for
centuries, and he made drawings and descriptions of some of the most
remarkable sculptures, paintings, monuments, and other things which
he found there. Several books have been published concerning the
catacombs, and anything like a full description of them would require
thousands of pages.
During some of the explorations many valuable articles were carried
away, until it was found that there was danger of the catacombs
being entirely despoiled. Pope Clement VIII. took the catacombs
under his especial protection, and forbade any one to enter or leave
them without permission, or take away any article whatever, under
penalty of excommunication. Since that time the catacombs have been
regarded with great veneration as being the hiding-place of the early
Christians, who adhered to their religious convictions through years
of the severest persecution.
[Sidenote: CHURCH OF THE CAPUCHINS.]
Every visitor to Rome makes, or is expected to make, a journey through
the catacombs. Very soon after my arrival in the Eternal City I
started to make this tour. Our party went first, as a preparation for
visiting the catacombs, to one of the churches (the Church of the
Capuchins), which is in charge of about twenty-four monks. Underneath
the church is the place where the monks after their death are buried.
The earth in which they are placed came originally from Jerusalem,
and the monks consider it a great honor to be planted there. This
number of monks—not the same ones, by any means—have been in charge
of the church for several centuries. Whenever any of them dies, he is
buried with a good deal of ceremony; and, in order to find a place for
him, the bones of one of his predecessors are dug up. The space is
sufficiently large for burying forty or fifty persons, so that when
one of the number has been placed under ground he is not likely to be
disturbed for ten or twenty years. His bones, when removed from the
earth, are placed with those of his predecessors. They are not piled
up in heaps, as one might naturally suppose, but are fastened to the
walls and ceilings of the little rooms that cover the cemetery.
Some of the walls are entirely covered with these bones. As you
look at the walls a little distance away, you would think they were
frescoed; but a near approach shows you that, instead of being fresco,
it is alto-relievo. For example, one wall will have in its centre a
skull, and around it will be a select assortment of the bones of the
forearm. Then sections of the back-bone, fragments of fingers, toes,
and all the bones familiar to the student of anatomy, will be arranged
in artistic order, so that the wall forms an interesting picture.
Sometimes the bones are arranged in the shape of wheels, and some of
them are formed into wheels and stars.
[Illustration: CATACOMBS OF ROME.—THE THREE BROTHERS.]
One of the peculiar things connected with the visit to this spot
is, that you are shown through the place by one of the monks, who
stands complacently by, calling your attention to the bones of his
predecessor, and regarding with calm satisfaction the prominent
positions which they occupy. He knows very well that one of these
days he will go into the earth which his lantern illuminates, and
a few years later his bones will form a part of the mural ornaments.
He contemplates death with satisfaction, as he knows he will be
buried in a conspicuous resting-place, where people can call upon and
admire him. The monk that guided us through the burial-ground was
enthusiastic rather than otherwise, and seemed to look forward with
delight to the time when he should form a part of an alto-relievo.
[Sidenote: IRREVERENT COMMENTS.]
An irreverent member of our party proposed asking the monk if he
did not think there would be a good deal of confusion at the day of
judgment, when Gabriel’s trumpet sounds, and the bones undertake to
sort themselves out and get together. He suggested that the arms, and
legs, and fingers, and toes, and back-bone joints would be a good
deal mixed up, and that fragments of a dozen monks might be collected
together and present themselves as one individual. He said the head of
Brother Ignatius, the body of Brother Francis, and the arm of Brother
Peter might be mixed up with the legs of Brother Simon, and an arm,
or leg, or a rib of somebody else. We reproved him soundly for his
levity, and told him he had better go.
Some of the catacombs are entered beneath the churches, while others
are entered in the open ground. The first one we went to after leaving
the church was at the right of the Appian Way, a little distance
outside the city. There was a party inside when we reached there,
and the guide who took us in charge said that the rules forbade two
parties going down at the same time, and that we could not descend
until the other returned; so we loitered around for a little time,
until our predecessors came out. We found ourselves in the middle of a
field, part of it cultivated and part of it in rich, luxuriant grass.
To all external appearances the ground beneath was perfectly solid,
and we almost began to think we had come to the wrong place.
The guide preceded us to a little hollow or excavation, down which
there was a flight of steps. We stood around this until we saw some
heads emerge from the ground two or three hundred yards away; then
the guide descended the steps, and we followed him. He unlocked a door
and allowed us to enter; then he locked the door after us, and we
found ourselves standing in a place where there was very little light,
and it was evident that we must have candles before proceeding farther.
[Sidenote: ENTERING THE CATACOMBS.]
He produced the candles, and each of us produced a franc. Another
carriage-load had joined us, so that our party consisted of seven or
eight persons. The harvest for the guide was a very good one, and
certainly allowed him no occasion to complain. When we had lighted our
candles he told us to follow him, and we descended another flight of
steps, and then struck off through a narrow gallery about six or seven
feet high—narrow in some places, and in others enlarged to a width of
ten or twenty feet.
As we went along, the guide explained to us the character of the
place, its mode of construction, and the uses to which it had been
put. He explained that the catacombs were originally quarries; that
we were then in the second gallery from the surface, and that there
were three similar galleries below us. He could take us through all of
them if we wished to go, but the journey would be rather monotonous,
as the objects to be seen in all were very much alike. This mode
of working in galleries one above the other is not peculiar to the
Roman catacombs, though it is more noticeable there than in any
other locality. Imagine a hotel, half a mile square and five stories
high, placed under ground, and you can form a very good idea of the
arrangement of this catacomb.
[Sidenote: FOLLOWING THE GUIDE.]
All along the galleries there are little niches, called _loculi_,
cut in the sides one above the other, just large enough to contain
a single body. From nearly all these _loculi_ the skeletons have
been removed, but there is now and then a skeleton or so visible,
and adding interest to the place. It is said that millions of bodies
were buried in these catacombs during the time they were used for
cemeteries. Those that have not been explored are still full of
skeletons, and would furnish relics enough to equip several thousand
new churches. Here and there the guide pointed out small rooms or
chambers in the tufa, where some of the Christians lived. There are
inscriptions of a religious character scratched upon the walls of
many of them, some being legible, while others are only partly so.
Beneath many of the _loculi_ there are inscriptions showing who are
resting there, and at the entrance to one of the chambers, in which a
dozen skeletons are leading a very quiet life, there is an elaborate
door-plate set in mosaic.
The places where some of those who have since been canonized dwelt in
their lifetime and were buried after death, were pointed out. Some
of them were quite interesting, and several were ornamented with
considerable care. Sometimes there were mosaics and marble monuments
of considerable size; and at one spot a life-sized statue cut from
the tufa rock, and evincing considerable skill on the part of its
designer, was shown to us.
We followed our guide in single file. Some of our party were rather
inattentive to his directions. Among them was a pair of lovers, who
seemed much more interested in saying sweet things to each other than
in looking at the curiosities of the place. Several times they lagged
behind, and the rest of us were obliged to halt and wait for them to
come up. Their dilatoriness caused the rest of the party at times to
become separated, and as they showed a disposition to wander off in
the side-galleries and corridors, we were apprehensive of losing some
of them. Sure enough, when we reached our journey’s end one of our
number was missing.
[Sidenote: A PAIR OF LOST LOVERS.]
Our guide left us and went back, and he was gone ten or fifteen
minutes before he found the missing individual. When he brought
him forward and we were united, the latter said that he thought we
turned a certain corner while he was examining the grave and bones of
an early Christian. He followed and could hear our voices, but was
surprised to find that, in following us, he seemed to get no nearer.
He thought a minute or two, and then concluded that he was lost. He
said his hair began to stand on end, and he was considerably relieved
when he heard the voice of our guide shouting to him, and answered.
The guide had some difficulty in finding him, as he had turned into a
side-gallery and thence into another gallery; and had he gone a little
farther, it might have taken some time to trace him out. I am entirely
convinced that the next time he visits a catacomb he will take good
care to keep within hearing distance, and seeing distance too, of the
guide.
The guide told us that it was not unusual for people to be lost
there, and he said that whenever they took a large party inside the
catacombs they always counted them carefully both on entering and
departing. “People,” he said, “will stop and look at things while the
rest of the party is moving on; and if we have a large number, they
are quite likely to get lost. The galleries run in all directions,
and in some places there are holes from a gallery to the one above or
below. Unless a person is careful, and is aware of their locality, he
may fall down one of these holes, and be severely injured, or perhaps
killed.” After he had told us of the danger of getting lost, he said,—
“I once took two Americans into one of the catacombs, along with a
party of a dozen or more. They had been drinking somewhat, and were
not very sober. We had quite a long journey through the galleries,
as it was late in the day, and I knew that no other party would be
allowed to enter. We spent some time in the place, and then we went
out, and I was so busy talking when we came out that I forgot to count
the party. I locked the door and went home, supposing all was right.
“In two or three hours the driver of a carriage came to wake me,
and said he had been all that time trying to find me. I asked what
he wanted. He said he took two American gentlemen to go into the
catacombs, and they had gone there; they had not come back to the
carriage yet, and he was beginning to get alarmed about his pay. He
did not think they would run away and cheat him, but he could not tell
what had become of them.
“Just then I happened to think that I did not count the party when
they came out, and quite likely the crowd might have been two men
short; so I went and found the custodian of the place, and got
permission to go into the catacombs. The rules forbid us to go into
the catacombs between sunset and sunrise, unless we have a good
reason; and I thought my excuse was good enough at that time. I was
afraid that those Americans might be shut up there in the dark, as
their candles were not very long, and unless they burned them singly,
were not good for more than three hours.
“From the time I shut up the place until I got there again and
unlocked the place, it was nearly five hours. The Americans are a
strange people, as I found when I went down there.
“I expected to find these men, if I found them at all, half dead with
fright, and wandering about or trembling in the darkness; but they
were nothing of the sort. When I got down into the place and walked
along one of the galleries, I heard somebody singing. He would sing a
little while, and then he would whistle. I could hear a rattling of
bones and a sound as if somebody was dancing.
[Sidenote: DANCING WITH A SKELETON.]
“Well, gentlemen, as sure as I am a guide, when I came in sight of
those men they were in a place where the gallery widened out into a
sort of chamber, and there were some skeletons which had been tied
together with wires and thongs. The chamber was about ten feet square,
and these skeletons were in the niches in the side. Those fellows were
there. One of them was sitting on the edge of a niche, and making
music by singing or whistling. He kept time with a couple of leg-bones
which he had in his hands. The other was hugging a skeleton as if it
had been a queen of the ballet. I stood still five or ten minutes to
see what they would do.
“When the fellow that was waltzing got tired, he seated his skeleton
in the corner, bowed to it as if it had been a young lady, patted it
on the cheek, and sat down. Then the other one got up and picked up
the same skeleton; the one who had just been dancing made the music,
and the scene was repeated.
“I shouted to them; they looked a little surprised, and answered me.
[Sidenote: MAKING A NIGHT OF IT.]
“They said their candles were nearly out. As soon as they found that
they were lost they concluded they must stay there all night; so
they stopped right where they were, entered the chamber, and made
themselves as comfortable as possible. The accommodations were not
very good, but one of them said, ‘Now that we are in for the night, I
guess we will stay it out.’
“They gave me some money, sent me out for a couple of bottles of wine
and something to eat, and told me to come again in the morning. They
sent money enough to pay the driver. I bought a dozen candles, took
them their overcoats from the carriage, so that they could use them in
case they wanted to lie down on the ground, and they had a merry time
of it all night.
“They promised not to disturb anything, and I knew they were
gentlemen, and would keep their word. They did not sleep any, but kept
carousing all night. They were ready to come out when I went there
in the morning; and though they said they had plenty of fun, I don’t
believe they would care to stay over night in the catacombs again.”
In some of the catacombs many persons of distinction have been buried.
The place where the Christian martyrs were concealed has been regarded
with such veneration that a great many people have considered it
a high honor to be buried there. Sometimes people who had died in
France, Spain, and other distant countries, were brought to Rome
to find a sepulchre in the catacombs; and sometimes their funeral
ceremonies were conducted with great pomp. Among the noted men buried
in the catacombs were the Popes Leo I., Gregory the Great, Gregory II.
and III., Leo IX.; also the Emperors Honorius, Valentinian, and Otho
II. In most of the places now opened to visitors there are no graves
of persons of distinction, though there are several of the second and
third class.
[Illustration: VAULTED CHAPEL IN THE CATACOMBS.]
[Illustration: LOST IN THE CATACOMBS.]
[Sidenote: INTO DAYLIGHT AGAIN.]
The place where we emerged from the catacombs was some distance from
where we descended into the earth. It was in the same field, and
through an excavation which promised as little as the one by which we
descended. The light of the Roman sun seemed much brighter than when
we left it, and it was some minutes before our eyes were accustomed to
its dazzling rays.
LIX.
THE PARISIAN RAG-PICKERS.
THEIR NUMBER AND EQUIPMENT.—THEIR KEEN-SIGHTEDNESS AND
SKILL.—THE PLEASURE OF THE BOTTLE.—SEEKING COMFORT UNDER
DIFFICULTIES.—UNWHOLESOME MAGAZINES.—WHERE AND HOW THE
CHIFFONNIERS LIVE.—DISMAL AND NOISOME ABODES.—A SOUP
LOTTERY.—QUAINT SCENES IN CHEAP BOOK-SHOPS.—TASTING ROAST CAT AND
STEWED PUPPY.—ROMANCE IN DIRT-HEAPS.—A HIDEOUS HAG ONCE A FAMOUS
BEAUTY.—PENITENCE AND REFORMATION THROUGH FIRE.
Everybody who has been in Paris—and who has not?—remembers the
rag-pickers, or chiffonniers, as they are styled, who frequent the
streets after nightfall, searching the city through for the means of
subsistence. One sees them so much, and in every quarter of the French
capital, that he imagines there must be several thousand of them. The
entire number, however, does not exceed six hundred, one half of whom
are women and children. Though rag-pickers in name, they are something
more in fact, since they gather up every article of the most trifling
value—old corks, fragments of bone or glass, coal or wood, scraps of
paper, ends of cigars, and all sorts of rubbish that can be sold for
the fraction of a sou.