Ruins of Ancient Cities (Vol. 2 of 2) With General and Particular Accounts of Their Rise, Fall, and Present Condition

Part 21

Chapter 214,048 wordsPublic domain

Besides the Mamertine prisons and the Cloaca Maxima, there are other antiquities at Rome which belong to the early period. Among these are the foundations and great fragments of the ancient buildings of the CAPITOL. The Capitol-hill is said to form a link between the ancient city and the modern one.—“From an elevated station, about two hundred and fifty feet above the Forum,” says Simond, “the voice of Cicero might have been heard, revealing to the people, assembled before the Temple of Concord, (to which the ruins nearest to us probably belonged,) Catiline’s conspiracy. He might even have been heard in the Tribune of Harangues, situated on the other side of the Forum, and next to the Temple of Jupiter Stator,—of which there are three columns still standing,—taking the oath _that he had saved his country_, and all the people taking the same oath after him. But the gory head and hand of this saviour of his country might have been seen from our station soon after, nailed to the side of this same tribune, and the same people tamely looking on! Instead of the contending crowds of patriots, conspirators, orators, heroes, and fools, each acting his part, we now saw only a few cows quietly picking up blades of grass among the ruins; beggars, and monks, and asses loaded with bags of puzzolana, and a gang of galley-slaves lazily digging away for antiquities, under the lash of their task-masters.”

The hill of the Capitol derived its name from the head of Tolus[174], and the prediction of universal empire to those who held it. It was famous for a temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, which was the effect of a vow made by Tarquinius Priscus in the Sabine war. But he had scarcely laid the foundations before his death. His nephew, Tarquinius the Proud, finished it with the spoils taken from the neighbouring nations. But upon the expulsion of the kings, the consecration was performed by Horatius the consul. The structure stood on a high ridge, taking in four acres of ground. The front was adorned with three rows of pillars, the other side with two. Its ascent from the ground was by one hundred steps. The prodigious gifts and ornaments, with which it was several times endowed, almost exceed belief. Suetonius tells us that Augustus gave at one time two thousand pounds weight of gold; and a precious stone to the value of five hundred sestertia. Livy and Pliny surprise us with accounts of the brazen thresholds, the noble pillars, that Sylla removed hither from Athens out of the temple of Jupiter Olympius; the gilded roof, the gilded shields, and those of solid silver; the huge vessels of silver, holding three measures; the golden chariot, &c. This temple was first consumed by fire in the Marian war, and then rebuilt by Sylla, who, dying before the dedication, left that honour to Quintus Catulus. This too was demolished in the Vitellian sedition. Vespasian undertook a third, which was burnt down about the time of his death. Domitian raised the last and most glorious of all; in which the very gilding amounted to twelve thousand talents (£2,250,000). He adorned it with some columns of Pentelic marble brought from Athens. Indeed, his extravagance in this and other public works led to that exceeding severity which accompanied the exaction of the capitation tax from the Jewish people. It was the opinion of contemporaries of the emperor, that if he were to reclaim from the gods the sums which he now expended upon them, even Jupiter himself, though he were to hold a general auction in Olympus, would be unable to pay a twelfth of his debts, or, as we should say, one shilling and eightpence in the pound.

If, Cæsar, all thou to the powers hast lent, Thou should’st reclaim, a creditor content, Should a fair auction vend Olympus’ hall, And the just gods be fain to sell their all; The bankrupt Atlas not a twelfth could sound:— Who bade the Sire of Gods with man compound? For Capitolian fanes what to the chief? What can he pay for the Tarpeian leaf? What for her double towers the Thunderer’s queen? Pallas I pass, thy manager serene. Alcides why, or Phœbus, should I name, Or the twin Lacons, of fraternal fame? Or the substructure (who can sum the whole?) Of Flavian temples to the Latian pole? Augustus, pious, then, and patient stay: The chest of Jove possesses not to pay.

Of all the ancient glory of the Capitol,[175] nothing now remains but the solid foundation and vast substructions raised on the rock. Not only is the Capitol fallen, but its very name, expressive of dominion, and once fondly considered as an omen of empire, is now almost lost in the semi-barbarous appellation of Campi-doglio. “This place,” says a celebrated French traveller, “which gave law to the universe, where Jupiter had his temple and Rome her senate; from whence of old the Roman eagles were continually flying into every quarter of the globe, and from every quarter of the globe continually winging their way back with victories; whence a single word from the mouth of Scipio, of Pompey, or of Cæsar, quickly reached the most distant nations, menacing their liberty, and deciding on the fate of kings; where the greatest men of the republic, in short, still continued to live after their death in statues, and still to govern the world with the authority of Romans: this place so renowned has lost its statues, its senate, its citadel, its temples; it has retained nothing but its name, so cemented by the blood and tears of nations, that time has not yet been able to disjoin the immortal syllables of which it is composed. It is still called the Capitol. At the Capitol we perceive, in the strongest light, the insignificance of all human things, and the power of fortune.”

The Pantheon is the most perfect of all the remains of ancient Rome, and the only one of the Pagan temples that retains any thing of its original appearance. It was dedicated[176] either to Jupiter Ultor, or to Mars and Venus, or, more probably, to all the gods in general. The structure, according to Fabricius, is one hundred and forty feet high, and about the same in breadth; but a later author has increased the number to one hundred and fifty-eight. The roof is curiously vaulted, void places being left here and there for the greater strength.

The statues of all the gods were in this temple; and these, according to their degrees, were of gold, silver, bronze, or marble. The portico is one hundred and ten feet long[177], by forty-four in depth, and is supported by sixteen columns of the Corinthian order. Each of the shafts of these columns is of one piece of oriental granite, and forty-two feet in height; the bases and capitals are of white marble. The whole height of the columns is forty-six feet five inches; the diameter, just above the base, is four feet ten inches; and, just beneath the capital, four feet three inches. The interior of the rotunda has a diameter of nearly one hundred and fifty feet.

This building has been generally attributed wholly to Agrippa; but from careful research, Desgodetz asserts that the body of the edifice is of much earlier origin; and that Agrippa only newly modelled and embellished the inside, and added the magnificent portico. The building is circular, with a noble dome, and a fine portico of sixteen pillars of oriental granite. There are no windows, the light being admitted by a circular aperture in the dome. The fine marble with which the walls were encrusted, and the brass which covered the roof, have long since disappeared; the bare bricks alone are left.

As St. Peter’s affords the best sample of modern art in Rome[178], so does the Pantheon exhibit the most satisfactory and best-preserved specimen of ancient art; for, notwithstanding the injuries it has sustained by the hands of barbarians of all ages, no signs of natural decay are yet visible; and with this magnificent model before their eyes, it appears strange, that the architects of St. Peter’s should not have accomplished their task more worthily. The Pantheon seems to be the hemispherical summit of a modern temple, taken off and placed on the ground; so it appears to us, at least, accustomed to see cupolas in the former situation only.

“It is built in the dirtiest part of modern Rome,” says the author of Rome in the Nineteenth Century; “and the unfortunate spectator, who comes with a mind filled with enthusiasm, to gaze upon this monument of the taste and magnificence of antiquity, finds himself surrounded by all that is most revolting to the senses, distracted by incessant uproar, pestered by the crowd of clamorous beggars, and stuck fast in the congregated filth of every description that covers the slippery pavement; so that the time he forces himself to spend in admiring its noble portico, generally proves a penance from which he is glad to be liberated, instead of an enjoyment he wishes to protract. We escaped none of these nuisances, except the mud, by sitting in an open carriage to survey it. The smells of the beggars were equally annoying. You may perhaps form some idea of the situation of the Pantheon at Rome, by imagining what Westminster Abbey would be in Covent Garden Market.”

This does not appear, however, to have damped the enthusiasm of Dupaty:—“I first directed my steps,” says he, “towards the Pantheon, dedicated by Agrippa to all the gods, and since, I know not by what pope, to all the saints[179]. This consecration has preserved the Pantheon from the general pillage and destruction which the other temples have undergone. It has been despoiled of every thing that made it rich; but they have left all that made it great. It has lost its marbles, its porphyry, its alabaster, but it has preserved its dome, its peristyle, and its columns. How magnificent is this peristyle! The eyes are just attracted by eight Corinthian columns, on which rests the pediment of this immortal monument. These columns are beautiful from the harmony of the most perfect workmanship, and the lapse of twenty centuries, which adds to their grandeur, and the awe they inspire. The eye can never tire with mounting with them in the air, and following their descent. They present I know not what appearance of animated life, that creates a pleasing illusion, an elegant shape, a noble stature, and a majestic head, round which the acanthus, with leaves at once so flexible and so superb, forms a crown; which, like that of kings, serves the double purpose of decorating the august head to which it gives a splendour, and disguising the immense weight that loads it. How richly does architecture, which creates such monuments, merit a place among the fine arts!”

The light, as we have before observed, is admitted only by a circular opening in the dome, which is twenty-eight feet in diameter[180]. Through this aperture a flood of light diffuses itself over the whole edifice, producing a sublime effect, but only showing all its beauties by permitting every passing shower to deluge its gorgeous pavement. The rain is carried off by a drain to the Tiber; but from the low situation of the building in the Campus Martius, the waters of the Tiber, when it is swollen, find their way up the drain, and flood the interior. Myriads of beetles, scorpions, worms, rats and mice, may then be seen retreating before the waters, as they gradually rise from the circumference to the centre of the area, which is a little elevated above the rest of it. “A beautiful effect,” says Dr. Burton, “is produced by visiting the building on these occasions at night, when the moon is reflected upon the water, through the aperture of the dome.”

“The Pantheon retains its majestic portico,” says Mr. Eustace, “and presents its graceful dome uninjured; the pavement, laid by Agrippa, and trodden by Augustus, still forms its floor; the compartments and fluted pillars of the richest marble, that originally lined its walls, still adorn its inward circumference; the deep tints that age has thrown over it, only contribute to raise its dignity, and augment our veneration; and the traveller enters its portal, through which twice twenty generations have flowed in succession, with a mixture of awe and religious veneration. Yet the Pantheon itself has been ‘shorn of its beams,’ and looks eclipsed through the ‘disastrous twilight of eighteen centuries.’”

Augustus dwelt at first[181] near the Roman Forum, in a house which had belonged to the orator Calvus; afterwards on the Palatine, but in the moderate house of Hortensius, which was not conspicuous, either for extent or ornament; it had some porticoes of Alban columns, and rooms without any marble or remarkable pavement. For more than forty years he occupied the same chamber, in winter and in summer; and although he found the city by no means favourable to his health in the winter, yet he constantly passed the winter in it. After the palace had been accidentally destroyed by fire, Augustus had it rebuilt, as we are told, and ordered it to be entirely opened to the public. This edifice was called Palatium, from the name of the hill on which it stood; and that being afterwards applied to the residence of the Roman emperors, it has passed into most of the languages of Europe, as the common appellation of a princely mansion.

It was under the immediate successors of Augustus that the Palatine rose in splendour, till it eclipsed all that we read of magnificence in the history of the ancient world. The imperial possessors of this proud eminence seem to have regarded it as a theatre for their amusement; and upon it their “gorgeous tyranny” was amply displayed, in the vast and costly structures which they erected for the gratification of their personal pleasure or caprice.

This palace received many additions by Tiberius, Caligula, and Domitian; and, finally, by Nero; from whom it was called “the golden house of Nero.” It is thus described by Salmon, from Suetonius, Tacitus, and other writers:—“From the remains in the back part of the Palatine-hill, the ancient palace of Nero, from its great extent and vast size, was no less difficult to be inhabited than it is for us to believe its magnificence. It was built by the famous architects Severus and Cererus. In the vestibule or principal entrance was the colossal statue of Nero, of bronze. It was one hundred and twenty feet high, of excellent workmanship, by Zenodorus, who was sent for from Gaul for the purpose. It was restored by Vespasian, and dedicated to the sun. The emperor added the rays, which were twenty-two feet and a half in length. In the porticos were three galleries supported by large columns, which extended a mile in length. This palace enclosed all the Palatine-hill, together with the plain between the Palatine and the Cælius, and part of the Esquiline mount near to the garden of Mæcenas. It was raised on large columns of marble carried on a level from the Palatine to the Esquiline. The superb entrance was facing the Via Sacra. Nero, in order to execute this design, destroyed the houses of many of the citizens, which occasioned the saying, that Rome consisted of one house. Tacitus writes, that when Rome was in flames seven days and nights, it was not to be extinguished till all the buildings about the Palatine were burnt. Where the amphitheatre now stands, Nero formed a lake to resemble the sea, with edifices around it similar to a city, together with extensive gardens and walks, and places for wild beasts, vineyards, &c. In the palace were a great number of halls, and an innumerable quantity of rooms, galleries, and statues, resplendent in every part with gold, gems, and precious stones; from which circumstance it acquired the name of the golden house. Many of the rooms destined for public feasts were very spacious, with most beautiful ceilings, which turned round in such a manner that from various parts there fell flowers and exquisite odours. The principal hall where Nero supped was circular, and of such art, that the ceiling was ornamented with stars to resemble the heavens, in conformity to which it continually revolved night and day. Birds of silver were carved in the other ceilings with surprising art. Amulius, a celebrated artist, was employed during the whole of his life to paint this palace. The tables were of ivory, the floors of the rooms were intersected with works in gold compartments of gems and mother-of-pearl: the marble, the bronze, the statues, and the richest of the tapestry, were beyond all description. When Nero went to inhabit it, he said, full of pride, ‘I now begin to be lodged like a man.’ Here, particularly, was a temple of Fortune, consecrated by Servius Tullius, and constructed by Nero, of a fine transparent alabaster, called fingites. This stone was brought from Cappadocia, and was so clear, that every object might be seen when the doors were shut, as if it were noon-day. In the gardens were delightful baths, numerous fish-ponds and pastures, with all sorts of animals. Here were also baths of fresh and sea water. To erect these wonderful edifices Italy was ruined with impositions and burdens, and its temples spoiled of their precious ornaments, statues of gold and silver, as likewise great part of the empire. Tacitus writes in his Annals, that it was twice burned and rebuilt; that is, in the fire under Nero, and in the sixth year of Trajan. According to Dion, it was burnt the third time under the emperor Commodus; and, as he rebuilt it, it was called from him Colonia Commodiana. Various emperors, abhorring the excess of so much riches and luxury, removed the most valuable part, and employed it for the greater ornament of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. Antoninus Pius, detesting the extent of the palace, contented himself with the part called Tiberiana, and shut up the rest. All this magnificence, time, and especially the malignity of man, have destroyed, and cypresses, symbols of death and desolation, triumph on the ruins.”

Its present condition has been thus described by the poet:—

Cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower, grown Matted and massed together; hillocks heaped On what were chambers, arch crushed, column strown In fragments, choked-up vaults, and frescoes steeped In subterranean damps, where the owl peeped, Deeming it midnight: temples, baths, or halls? Pronounce who can; for all that learning reaped From her research hath been, that these are walls. Behold the Imperial Mount! ’tis thus the mighty falls.

Arches were public buildings,[182] designed for the reward and encouragement of noble enterprises, erected generally to the honour of such eminent persons as had either won a victory of extraordinary consequence abroad, or had rescued the commonwealth at home from considerable danger. At first, they were plain and rude structures, by no means remarkable for beauty or state. But in later times no expenses were thought too great for the rendering them in the highest degree splendid and magnificent; nothing being more usual than to have the greatest actions of the heroes they stood to honour curiously expressed, or the whole procession of the triumph cut out on the sides. The arches built by Romulus were only of brick; that of Camillus, of plain square stone; but those of Cæsar, Drusus, Titus, Trajan, Gordian, &c., were entirely of marble.

The most distinguished of these arches are those of Titus and Septimius Severus. That of Gallienus is a mere gateway, and that of Drusus seems part of an aqueduct; yet, coarse as they are, each has its Corinthian columns, and pediments on a portion of the fronts. That of Constantine was erected after the defeat of Maxentius, and was so contrived that the music for the triumph might be placed in it. When the procession reached the arch, the band began to play, and continued till the whole had passed through.

The arch of Titus is situate on the eastern declivity of the Palatine Mount. It is so rich, that some regard it not as elegant. The entablature, the imposts, the key-stones, are all crowded with sculpture; yet all, according to the taste of Mr. Forsyth, are meagre in profile. It was erected by the senate, in gratitude to Titus for having conquered Judea and taken Jerusalem. It is, therefore, one of the most interesting monuments of ancient Rome; and so sensibly do the Jews still feel the injury, done to their nation, that none of them can be tempted to pass under it.

The triumph is represented on each side of the arch in oblong spaces, seven feet in height, and nearly fourteen in length. The emperor appears in a triumphal car drawn by four horses,—Victory crowning him with a laurel. Rome is personified as a female. She conducts the horses; lictors, citizens, and soldiers, attending. On the opposite side is represented a procession, in which are carried, by persons crowned with laurel and bearing the Roman standards, various spoils taken at Jerusalem; such as the silver trumpets, the golden table, and the golden candlestick with seven branches.

The arch of Severus was erected in honour of the emperor Septimius, and his two sons Caracalla and Geta, on account of victories obtained over the Parthians. We know from history, says Dr. Burton, that he made two expeditions into the East; the first in 195, when he conquered Vologeses; the second in 199, when he took Ctesiphon, and the treasures of king Artabanus. Spartian tells us, that he triumphed after the first expedition; but refused the honour the second time, because he had the gout. His son triumphed in his stead; and it was upon this occasion that the arch was erected.

This triumphal arch consists of three; that is, a large one in the middle, and a smaller one on each side. These arches[183] are not in a very pure style of architecture; but they are rich and handsome objects. Four projecting columns adorn each face, and the entablature bricks around each of them. Above the columns are supposed to have been statues; while, on the top, as we learn from coins, was a car drawn by six horses abreast, containing two persons in it, and having on each side an attendant on horseback, followed by one on foot. The material of the arch is marble; and each front is covered, between the columns, with bas-reliefs. These bas-reliefs illustrate the campaigns and victories, in commemoration of which the arch was erected. But the whole series, says Dr. Burton, is in an indifferent style of sculpture, and presents but a poor idea of the state of the arts at that time. Mr. Wood, however, regards them, though bad in design as well as execution, as contributing to the magnificence of the edifice. Mr. Forsyth, however, is not given to indulge in respect to the architecture; for he says, that the composite starts so often and so “furiously” out, the poverty of its entablature meets you in so many points, as to leave no repose to the eye. Within the arch is a marble staircase, leading by fifty steps to the summit. The arch itself was half buried so late as the year 1803. Several excavations had been made; but the loose soil had slipped down, and quickly filled them up again. Pope Pius VII. was more successful in the attempt than his predecessors had been; and by the year 1804 the whole arch had been uncovered, and laid open down to the bottom.

The site of the temple of Romulus is now occupied by the church of San Teodoro, a small rotunda. The walls are of great antiquity, and marvellously perfect. In regard to the temple of Romulus and Remus, few buildings have occasioned more disputes. It is now the church of S.S. Cosimo e Damiano; the vestibule, several porphyry columns, and a bronze door of which are exceedingly ancient.