A holy hermit, living a life of solitude and prayer, heard a rushing noise, and, looking out of his window, saw a troop of demons, who told him that the Emperor Henry II. had just expired, and that they were hurrying to lay claim to his soul. The hermit trembled, and besought them to let him know as they returned how they had succeeded. Some days after, they came back and narrated that when the Archangel was weighing the good and evil deeds of the emperor in his balance, the weight was falling in their favour—when suddenly the roasted St. Laurence appeared, bearing a golden chalice, which the emperor, shortly before his death, had bestowed upon the Church, and cast it into the scale of good deeds, and so turned the balance the other way, but that in revenge they had broken off one of the golden handles of the chalice. And when the hermit heard these things he rejoiced greatly; and the soul of the emperor was saved and he became a canonized saint,—and the devils departed blaspheming.
The order of the frescoes representing this legend is:—
| 1, 2. | Scenes in the life of Henry II. |
| 3. | The Emperor offers the golden chalice. |
| 4. | A banquet scene. |
| 5. | The hermit discourses with the devils. |
| 6. | The death of Henry II.—1024. |
| 7. | The dispute for the soul of the Emperor. |
| 8. | It is saved by St. Laurence. |
The second series represents the whole story of the acts, trial, martyrdom, and burial of St. Laurence; one or two frescoes in this were entirely effaced, and have been added by the restorer. Of the old series were:—
| 1. | The investiture of St. Laurence as deacon. |
| 2. | St. Laurence washes the feet of poor Christians. |
| 3. | He heals Sta. Cyriaca. |
| 4. | He distributes alms on the Cœlian. |
| 5. | He meets St. Sixtus led to death, and receives his blessing. |
| 6. | He is led before the prefect. |
| 7. | He restores sight to Lucillus. |
| 8. | He is scourged. |
| 9. | He baptizes St. Hippolytus. |
| 11. | He refuses to give up the treasures of the Church. |
| 13, 14, 15. | His burial by St. Hippolytus. |
The third series represents the story of St. Stephen, followed by that of the translation of his relics to this basilica.
The relics of St. Stephen were preserved at Constantinople, whither they had been transported from Jerusalem by the Empress Eudoxia, wife of Theodosius II. Hearing that her daughter Eudoxia, wife of Valentinian II., Emperor of the West, was afflicted with a devil, she begged her to come to Constantinople that her demon might be driven out by the touch of the relics. The younger Eudoxia wished to comply,—but the devil refused to leave her, unless St. Stephen was brought to Rome. An agreement was therefore made that the relics of St. Stephen should be exchanged for those of St. Laurence. St. Stephen arrived, and the empress was immediately relieved of her devil, but when the persons who had brought the relics of St. Stephen from Constantinople were about to take those of St. Laurence back with them, they all fell down dead! Pope Pelagius prayed for their restoration to life, which was granted for a short time, to prove the efficacy of prayer, but they all died again ten days after! Thus the Romans knew that it would be criminal to fulfil their promise, and part with the relics of St. Laurence, and the bodies of the two martyrs were laid in the same sarcophagus.
The frescoes in the left wall represent a separate story:—
A holy sacristan arose before the dawn to enjoy solitary prayers before the altars of this church. Once when he was thus employed, he found that he was not alone, and beheld three persons, a priest, a deacon, and sub-deacon, officiating at the altar, and the church around him filled with worshippers, whose faces bore no mortal impress. Tremblingly he drew near to him whom he dreaded the least, and inquired of the deacon, who this company might be. 'The priest whom thou seest is the blessed apostle Peter,' answered the spirit, 'and I am Laurence who suffered cruel torments for the love of my master Christ, upon a Wednesday, which was the day of his betrayal; and in remembrance of my martyrdom we are come to-day to celebrate here the mysteries of the Church; and the sub-deacon who is with us is the first martyr, St. Stephen,—and the worshippers are the apostles, the martyrs, and virgins who have passed with me into Paradise, and have come back hither to do me honour; and of this solemn service thou art chosen as the witness. When it is day, therefore, go to the pope and tell what thou hast seen, and bid him, in my name, to come hither and to celebrate a solemn mass with all his clergy, and to grant indulgences to the faithful.' But the sacristan trembled and said, 'If I go to the pope he will not believe me: give me some visible sign, then, which will show what I have seen.' And St. Laurence ungirt his robe, and giving his girdle to the sacristan, bade him show it in proof of what he told. In the morning the old man related what he had seen to the abbot of the monastery, who bore the girdle to the then pope, Alexander II. The pope accompanied him back to the basilica,—and on their way they were met by a funeral procession, when, to test the powers of the girdle, the pope laid it on the bier, and at once the dead arose and walked. Then all men knew that the sacristan had told what was true, and the pope celebrated mass as he had been bidden, and promised an indulgence of forty years to all who should visit on a Wednesday any church dedicated to St. Laurence.
This story is told in eight pictures:—
| 1. | The sacristan sees the holy ones. |
| 2. | The Phantom Mass. |
| 3. | The sacristan tells the abbot. |
| 4. | The abbot tells the pope. |
| 5. | The pope consults his cardinals. |
| 6. | The dead is raised by the girdle. |
| 7. | Mass is celebrated at St. Lorenzo, and souls are freed from purgatory by the intercession of the saint. |
| 8. | Prayer is made at the shrine of St. Laurence. |
The nave—which is the basilica of Honorius III.—is divided from its side aisles by twenty-two Ionic columns of granite and cipollino. The sixth column on the right has a lizard and a frog amongst the decorations of its capital, which led Winckelmann to the supposition that these columns were brought hither from the Portico of Octavia, because Pliny describes that the architects of the Portico of Metellus, which formerly occupied that site, were two Spartans, named Sauros and Batrachus, who implored permission to carve their names upon their work; and that when leave was refused, they introduced them under this form,—Batrachus signifying a frog, and Sauros a lizard.
Above the architrave are frescoes by Fracassini, of the lives and martyrdoms of SS. Stephen and Laurence. Higher up are saints connected with the history of the basilica. The roof is painted in patterns. The splendid opus-alexandrinum pavement is of the tenth century. On the left of the entrance is a baptismal font, above which are more frescoes relating to the story of St. Laurence. On the right, beneath a mediæval canopy, is a very fine sarcophagus, sculptured with a wedding scene,—adapted as the tomb of Cardinal Fieschi, nephew of Innocent IV., who died in 1256. Inside the canopy, is a fresco of Christ throned, to whom St. Laurence presents the cardinal, and St. Stephen Innocent IV. Behind stand St. Eustace and St. Hippolytus. The west end of the church is closed by the inscription, "Hi sunt qui venerunt de tribulatione magna, et laverunt stolas suas in sanguine agni."
The splendid ambones in the nave, inlaid with serpentine and porphyry, are of the twelfth century. That on the right, with a candelabrum for the Easter candle, was for the gospel; that on the left for the epistle.
At the end of the left aisle, a passage leads down to a subterranean chapel, used for prayer for the souls in purgatory. Here is the entrance to the Catacombs of Sta. Ciriaca, which are said to extend as far as Sant' Agnese, but which have been much and wantonly injured in the works for the new cemetery. Here the body of St. Laurence is related to have been found. Over the entrance is inscribed:—
"Hæc est tumba illa toto orbe terrarum celeberrima ex cimeterio S. Cyriacæ Matronæ ubi sacrum si quis fecerit pro defunctis eorum animas e purgatorii pœnis divi Laurentii meritis evocabit."[287]
Passing the triumphal arch, we enter the early basilica of Pope Pelagius II. (572—590), which is on a lower level than that of the nave. Here are twelve splendid columns of pavonazzetto, of which the two first bear trophies carved above the acanthus leaves of their capitals. These support an entablature formed from various antique fragments, put together without uniformity,—and a triforium, divided by twelve small columns.
On the inside, which was formerly the outside, of the triumphal arch, is a restored mosaic of the time of Pelagius, representing the Saviour seated upon the world, having on the right St. Peter, St. Laurence, and St. Pelagius, and on the left St. Paul and St. Stephen, and with them, in a warrior's dress, St. Hippolytus, the soldier who was appointed to guard St. Laurence in prison, and who, being converted by him, was dragged to death by wild horses, after seeing nineteen of his family suffer before his eyes. He is the patron saint of horses. Here also are the mystic cities, Bethlehem and Jerusalem.
A long poetical inscription is known to have once existed here; only two lines remain round the arch:—
Jure tuis templis lux veneranda redit."
The high altar, with a baldacchino, supported by four porphyry columns, covers the remains of SS. Laurence and Stephen, enclosed in a silver shrine by Pelagius II., a pope so munificent that he had given up his own house as a hospital for aged poor. St. Justin is also buried here.
"No one knew what had become of the body of St. Stephen for 400 years, when Lucian, a priest of Carsamagala, in Palestine, was visited in a dream by Gamaliel, the doctor of the law at whose feet Paul was brought up in all the learning of the Jews; and Gamaliel revealed to him that after the death of Stephen he had carried away the body of the saint, and had buried it in his own sepulchre, and had also deposited near it the body of Nicodemus and other saints; and this dream having been repeated three times, Lucian went with others deputed by the bishop, and dug with mattocks and spades in the spot which had been indicated,—a sepulchre in a garden,—and found what they supposed to be the remains of St. Stephen, their peculiar sanctity being proved by many miracles. These relics were first deposited in Jerusalem, in the church of Sion, and afterwards by the younger Theodosius carried to Constantinople, whence they were taken to Rome, and placed by Pope Pelagius in the same tomb with St. Laurence. It is related that when they opened the sarcophagus, and lowered into it the body of St. Stephen, St. Laurence moved on one side, giving the place of honour on the right hand to St. Stephen: hence the common people of Rome have conferred on St. Laurence the title of 'Il cortese Spagnuolo'—the courteous Spaniard."—Jameson's Sacred and Legendary Art.
Behind the altar is a mosaic screen, with panels of porphyry and serpentine, and an ancient episcopal throne.
The lower church was filled up with soil till 1864, when restorations were ordered here. These were entrusted to Count Vespignani, and have been better carried out than most church alterations in Rome; but an interesting portico, with mosaics by one of the famous Cosmati family, has been destroyed to make room for some miserable arrangements connected with the modern cemetery.
It was in this basilica that Peter Courtenay, Count of Auxerre, with Yolande his wife, received the imperial crown of Constantinople from Honorius III. in 1217.
Adjoining the church is the very picturesque Cloister of the Monastery, built in 1190, for Cistercian monks, but assigned as a residence for any Patriarchs of Jerusalem who might visit Rome. Here are preserved many ancient inscriptions, and other fragments from the neighbouring catacombs.
The basilica is now almost engulfed in the Cemetery of S. Lorenzo, the great modern burial-ground of Rome. It was opened in 1837, but has been much enlarged in the last ten years. Hither wend the numerous funerals which are seen passing through the streets after Ave-Maria, with a procession of monks bearing candles. A frightful gate, with a laudatory inscription to Pius IX., and a hideous modern chapel, have been erected. There are very few fine monuments. The best are those in imitation of the cinque-cento tombs of which there are so many in the Roman churches. That by Podesti, the painter, to his wife, in the right corridor of the cloister, is touching. The higher ground to the left, behind the church, is occupied by the tombs of the rich. Those of the poor are indiscriminately scattered over a wide plain. A range of cliffs on the left were perforated by the catacombs of Sta. Cyriaca, which, with the bad taste so constantly displayed in Rome, have been wantonly and shamefully broken up. Those who do not wish to descend into a catacomb, may here see (from without) all their arrangements—in the passages lined with sepulchres, and even some small chapels, lined with rude frescoes, laid open to the air, where the cliff has been cut away.
A Roman funeral is a most sad sight, and strikes one with an unutterable sense of desolation.
"After a death the body is entirely abandoned to the priests, who take possession of it, watch over it, and prepare it for burial; while the family, if they can find refuge anywhere else, abandon the house and remain away a week.... The body is not ordinarily allowed to remain in the house more than twelve hours, except on condition that it is sealed up in lead or zinc. At nightfall a sad procession of becchini and frati may be seen coming down the street, and stopping before the house of the dead. The becchini are taken from the lowest classes of the people, and hired to carry the corpse on the bier and to accompany it to the church and cemetery. They are dressed in shabby black cappe, covering their head and face as well as their body, and having two large holes cut in front of the eyes to enable them to see. These cappe are girdled round the waist, and the dirty trousers and worn-out shoes are miserably manifest under the skirts of their dress—showing plainly that their duty is occasional. All the frati and becchini, except the four who carry the bier, are furnished with wax candles, for no one is buried in Rome without a candle. You may know the rank of the person to be buried by the lateness of the hour and the number of the frati. If it be the funeral of a person of wealth or a noble, it takes place at a late hour, the procession of frati is long, and the bier elegant. If it be a state-funeral, as of a prince, carriages accompany it in mourning, the coachman and lackeys are bedizened in their richest liveries, and the state hammer-cloths are spread on the boxes, with the family arms embossed on them in gold. But if it be a pauper's funeral, there are only becchini enough to carry the bier to the grave, and two frati, each with a little candle; and the sunshine is yet on the streets when they come to take away the corpse.
"You will see this procession stop before the house where the corpse is lying. Some of the becchini go up-stairs, and some keep guard below. Scores of shabby men and boys are gathered round the frati; some attracted simply by curiosity, and some for the purpose of catching the wax, which gutters down from the candles as they are blown by the wind. The latter may be known by the great horns of paper which they carry in their hands. While this crowd waits for the corpse, the frati light their candles, and talk, laugh, and take snuff together. Finally comes the body, borne down by four of the becchini. It is in a common rough deal coffin, more like an ill-made packing-case than anything else. No care or expense has been laid out upon it to make it elegant, for it is only to be seen for a moment. Then it is slid upon the bier, and over it is drawn the black velvet pall with golden trimmings, on which a cross, death's head, and bones are embroidered. Four of the becchini hoist it on their shoulders, the frati break forth into their hoarse chaunt, and the procession sets out for the church. Little and big boys and shabby men follow along, holding up their paper horns against the sloping candles to catch the dripping wax. Every one takes off his hat, or makes the sign of the cross, or mutters a prayer, as the body passes; and with a dull, sad, monotonous chaunt, the candles gleaming and flaring, and casting around them a yellow flickering glow, the funeral winds along through the narrow streets, and under the sombre palaces and buildings, where the shadows of night are deepening every moment. The spectacle seen from a distance, and especially when looked down upon from a window, is very effective; but it loses much of its solemnity as you approach it; for the frati are so vulgar, dirty, and stupid, and seem so utterly indifferent and heartless, as they mechanically croak out their psalms, that all other emotions yield to a feeling of disgust."—Story's Roba di Roma.
"Ces rapprochements soudains de l'antiquité et des temps modernes, provoqués par la vue d'un monument dont la destinée se lie à l'une et aux autres, sont très-fréquents à Rome. L'histoire poétique d'Énée aurait pu m'en fournir plusieurs. Ainsi dans l'Énéide, aux funérailles de Pallas, une longue procession s'avance, portant des flambeaux funèbres, suivant l'usage antique, dit Virgile. En effet, on se souvient que l'usage des cierges remontait à l'abolition des sacrifices humains, accompli dans les temps héroïques par le dieu pélasgique Hercule. La description que fait Virgile des funérailles de Pallas pourrait convenir à un de ces enterrements romains où l'on voit de longues files de capucins marchant processionnellement en portant des cierges.
Ordine flammarum.'"
Æn. xi. 143.
On the other side of the road from S. Lorenzo is the Catacomb of St. Hippolytus, interesting as described by the Christian poet Prudentius, who wrote at the end of the fourth century.
"Not far from the city walls, among the well-trimmed orchards, there lies a crypt buried in darksome pits. Into its secret recesses a steep path in the winding stairs directs one, even though the turnings shut out the light. The light of day, indeed, comes in through the doorway, as far as the surface of the opening, and illuminates the threshold of the portico; and when, as you advance further, the darkness as of night seems to get more and more obscure throughout the mazes of the cavern, there occur at intervals apertures cut in the roof which convey the bright rays of the sun upon the cave. Although the recesses, twisting at random this way and that, form narrow chambers with darksome galleries, yet a considerable quantity of light finds its way through the pierced vaulting down into the hollow bowels of the mountain. And thus throughout the subterranean crypt it is possible to perceive the brightness and enjoy the light of the absent sun. To such secret places is the body of Hippolytus conveyed, near to the spot where now stands the altar dedicated to God. That same altar-slab (mensa) gives the sacrament, and is the faithful guardian of its martyrs' bones, which it keeps laid up there in expectation of the Eternal Judge, while it feeds the dwellers by the Tiber with holy food. Wondrous is the sanctity of the place! The altar is at hand for those who pray, and it assists the hopes of men by mercifully granting what they need. Here have I, when sick with ills both of soul and body, oftentimes prostrated myself in prayer and found relief.... Early in the morning men come to salute (Hippolytus): all the youth of the place worship here: they come and go until the setting of the sun. Love of religion collects together into one dense crowd both Latins and foreigners; they imprint their kisses on the shining silver; they pour out their sweet balsams; they bedew their faces with tears."—See Roma Sotterranea, p. 98.
CHAPTER XIV.
IN THE CAMPUS MARTIUS.
S. Antonio dei Portoguesi—Torre della Scimia—S. Agostino—S. Apollinare—Palazzo Altemps—Sta. Maria dell' Anima—Sta. Maria della Pace—Palazzo del Governo Vecchio—Monte Giordano and Palazzo Gabrielli—Sta. Maria Nuova—Sta. Maria di Monserrato—S. Girolamo della Carità—Sta. Brigitta—S. Tommaso degl' Inglese—Palazzo Farnese—Sta. Maria della Morte—Palazzo Falconieri—Campo di Fiore—Palazzo Cancelleria—SS. Lorenzo e Damaso—Palazzo Linote—Palazzo Spada—Trinità dei Pellegrini—Sta. Maria in Monticelli—Palazzo Santa Croce—S. Carlo a Catinari—Theatre of Pompey—S. Andrea della Valle—Palazzo Vidoni—Palazzo Massimo alle Colonne—S. Pantaleone—Palazzo Braschi—Statue of Pasquin—Sant' Agnese—Piazza Navona—Palazzo Pamfili—S. Giacomo degli Spagnuoli—Palazzo Madama—S. Luigi dei Francesi—The Sapienza—S. Eustachio—Pantheon—Sta. Maria sopra Minerva—Il Piè die Marmo.
THE Campus Martius, now an intricate labyrinth of streets, occupying the wide space between the Corso and the Tiber, was not included within the walls of ancient Rome, but even to late imperial times continued to be covered with gardens and pleasure-grounds, interspersed with open spaces, which were used for the public exercises and amusements of the Roman youth.
Nec tetigit Campi, nec mea musa juvat."
Propert. ii. El. 13.
The vicinity of the Tiber afforded opportunities for practice in swimming.
Æque conspicitur gramine Martio."
Hor. iii. Od. 7.
Quem Tiberis curvis in latus urget aquis."
Ovid, Fast. iii. 519.
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores,
Cæsar said to me, 'Dar'st thou, Cassius, now
Leap in with me into this angry flood,
And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bade him follow,—so, indeed, he did:
The torrent roared; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of controversy."
Shakspeare, Julius Cæsar.
It was only near the foot of the Capitol that any buildings were erected under the republic, and these only public offices; under the empire a few magnificent edifices were scattered here and there over the plain. In the time of Cicero, the Campus was quite uninhabited; it is supposed that the population were first attracted here when the aqueducts were cut during the Lombard invasion, which drove the inhabitants from the hills, and obliged them to seek a site where they could avail themselves of the Tiber.
The hills, which were crowded by a dense population in ancient Rome, are now for the most part deserted; the plain, which was deserted in ancient Rome, is now thickly covered with inhabitants.
The plain was bounded on two sides by the Quirinal and Capitoline hills, which were both in the hands of the Sabines, but it had no connection with the Latin hill of the Palatine. Thus it was dedicated to the Sabine god, Mamers or Mars, either before the time of Servius Tullius, as is implied by Dionysius, or after the time of the Tarquins, as stated by Livy.
Tarquinius Superbus had appropriated the Campus Martius to his own use, and planted it with corn. After he was expelled, and his crops cut down and thrown into the Tiber, the land was restored to the people. Here the tribunes used to hold the assemblies of the plebs in the Prata Flaminia at the foot of the Capitol, before any buildings were erected as their meeting-place.
The earliest building in the Campus Martius of which there is any record, is the Temple of Apollo, built by the consul C. Julius, in B.C. 430. Under the censor C. Flaminius, in B.C. 220, a group of important edifices arose on a site which is ascertained to be nearly that occupied by the Palazzo Caetani, Palazzo Mattei, and Sta. Caterina dei Funari. The most important was the Circus Flaminius, where the plebeian games were celebrated under the care of the plebeian ædiles, and which in later times was flooded by Augustus, when thirty-six crocodiles were killed there for the amusement of the people.[288]
Close to this Circus was the Villa Publica, erected B.C. 438, for taking the census, levying troops, and such other public business as could not be transacted within the city.
Here, also, foreign ambassadors were received before their entrance into the city, as afterwards at the Villa Papa Giulio, and here victorious generals awaited the decree which allowed them a triumph.[289] It was in the Villa Publica that Sylla cruelly massacred three thousand partisans of Marius, after he had promised them their lives.
Concidit, et miseræ maculavit ovilia Romæ."
Lucan, ii. 196.
The cries of these dying men were heard by the senate who were assembled at the time in the Temple of Bellona (restored by Appius Claudius Cæcus in the Samnite War), which stood hard by, and in front of which at the extremity of the Circus Flaminius, where the Piazza Paganica now is, stood the Columna Bellica, where the Ferialis, when war was declared, flung a lance into a piece of ground, supposed to represent the enemy's country, when it was not possible to do it at the hostile frontier itself. Julius Cæsar flung the spear here when war was declared against Cleopatra.[290]
Est ibi non parvæ parva columna notæ.
Hinc solet hasta manu, belli prænuncia, mitti;
In regem et gentes, cum placet arma capi."
Ovid, Fast. vi. 205.
Almost adjoining the Villa Publica was the Septa, where the Comitia Centuriata of the plebs assembled for the election of their tribunes. The other name of this place of assembly, Ovilia, or the sheepfolds, bears witness to its primitive construction, when it was surrounded by a wooden barrier. In later times the Ovilia was more richly adorned; Pliny describes it as containing two groups of sculpture—Pan and the young Olympus, and Chiron and the young Achilles—for which the keepers were responsible with their lives;[291] and under the empire it was enclosed in magnificent buildings.
In B.C. 189 the Temple of Hercules Musagetes was built by the censor Fulvius Nobilior. It occupied a site on the north-west of the portico of Octavia.[292] Sylla restored it:—
Quod Deus Euboico carmine munus habet.
Muneris est tempus, qui Nonas Lucifer ante est:
Si titulos quæris; Sulla probavit opus."
Ovid, Fast. vi. 209.
This temple was rebuilt by L. Marcius Philippus, stepfather of Augustus, and surrounded by a portico called after him Porticus Philippi.[293]
The Portico of Octavia itself was originally built by the prætor, Cn. Octavius, in B.C. 167, and rebuilt by Augustus, who re-dedicated it in memory of his sister. Close adjoining was the Porticus Metelli, built B.C. 146, by Cæcilius Metellus.[295] It contained two Temples of Juno and Jupiter.[296] Another Temple of Juno stood between this and the theatre of Pompey, having been erected by M. Æmilius Lepidus in B.C. 170, together with a Temple of Diana.[297] Near the same spot was a Temple of Fortuna Equestris, erected in consequence of a vow of Q. Fulvius Flaccus when fighting against the Celtiberians in B.C. 176; a Temple of Isis and Serapis; and a Temple of Mars, erected by D. Junius Brutus, for his victories over the Gallicians in B.C. 136;[298] at this last-named temple the people, assembled in their centuries, voted the war against Philip of Macedon. In the same neighbourhood was the Theatre of Balbus, a general under Julius Cæsar, occupying the site of the Piazza della Scuola.
The munificence of Pompey extended the public buildings much further into the Campus. He built, after his triumph, a Temple of Minerva on the site now occupied by the Church of Sta. Maria sopra Minerva, on which the beautiful statue called "the Giustiniani Minerva" was found, and the Theatre of Pompey, surrounded by pillared porticoes and walks shaded with plane-trees.
Porticus aulæis nobilis Attalicis:
Et creber pariter platanis surgentibus ordo,
Flumina sopito quæque Marone cadunt."
Propertius, ii. El. 32.
Cum Sol Herculei terga leonis adit."
Ovid, de Art. Am. i. 67.
Illinc Pompeii dona, nemusque duplex."
Martial, ii. Ep. 14.
Under the empire important buildings began to rise up further from the city. The Amphitheatre of Statilius Taurus, whose ruins are supposed to be the foundation of the Monte-Citorio, was built by a general under Augustus; the magnificent Pantheon, the Baths of Agrippa, and the Diribitorium—where the soldiers received their pay—whose huge and unsupported roof was one of the wonders of the city,[299] were due to his son-in-law. Agrippa also brought the Aqua Virgo into the city to supply his baths, conveying it on pillars across the Flaminian Way, the future Corso.
Et madet assiduo lubricus imbre lapis,
In jugulum pueri, qui roscida templa subibat,
Decidit hiberno prægravis unda gelu."
Martial, iv. Ep. 18.
Near this aqueduct was a temple of Juturna;
Hic ubi Virginea campus obitur aqua."
Ovid, Fast. i. 463.
and another of Isis.
Isidis, antiquo quæ proxima surgit ovili."
Juvenal, Sat. vi. 528.
These were followed by the erection of the Temple of Neptune—by some ascribed to Agrippa, who is said to have built it in honour of his naval victories, by others to the time of the Antonines; by the great Imperial Mausoleum, then far out in the country; and by the Baths of Nero, on the site now occupied by S. Luigi and the neighbouring buildings.
Quid thermis melius Neronianis?"
Martial, vii. Ep. 33.
Parva, Neronea nec qui modo totus in unda
Hic iterum sudare negat."
Statius, Silv. i. 5.
Besides these were an Arch of Tiberius, erected by Claudius; a Temple of Hadrian and Basilica of Matidia, built by Antoninus Pius, in honour of his predecessors; the Temple and Arch of Marcus Aurelius, near the site of the present Palazzo Chigi; and an Arch of Gratian, Valentinian II., and Theodosius.
Of all these various buildings nothing remains except the Pantheon, a single arch of the Baths of Agrippa, some disfigured fragments of the Mausoleum, a range of columns belonging to the temple of Neptune, and a portion of the Portico of Octavia. The interest of the Campus Martius is almost entirely mediæval or modern, and the objects worth visiting are scattered amid such a maze of dirty and intricate streets, that they are seldom sought out except by those who make a long stay in Rome, and care for everything connected with its history and architecture.
Following the line of streets which leads from the Piazza di Spagna to St. Peter's (Via Condotti, Via Fontanella Borghese), beyond the Borghese Palace, let us turn to the left by the Via della Scrofa,[300] at the entrance of which is the Palazzo Galitzin on the right, and the Palazzo Cardelli on the left.
Passing, on the right, St. Ivo of Brittany, the national church of the Bretons, the second turn on the right, Via S. Antonio dei Portoguesi, shows a church dedicated to St. Anthony of Padua, and the fine mediæval tower called Torre della Scimia.
In this tower once lived a man who had a favourite ape. One day this creature seized upon a baby, and rushing to the summit, was seen from below, by the agonized parents, perched upon the battlements, and balancing their child to and fro over the abyss. They made a vow in their terror that if the baby were restored in safety, they would make provision that a lamp should burn nightly for ever before an image of the Virgin on the summit. The monkey, without relaxing its hold of the infant, slid down the wall, and bounding and grimacing, laid the child at its mother's feet. Thus a lamp always burns upon the battlements before an image of the Madonna.
This building is better known, however, as "Hilda's Tower," a fictitious name which it has received from Hawthorne's mysterious novel.
"Taking her way through some of the intricacies of the city, Miriam entered what might be called either a widening of a street or a small piazza. The neighbourhood comprised a baker's oven, emitting the usual fragrance of sour bread; a shoe shop; a linendraper's shop; a pipe and cigar shop; a lottery office; a station for French soldiers, with a sentinel pacing in front; and a fruit stand, at which a Roman matron was selling the dried kernels of chesnuts, wretched little figs, and some bouquets of yesterday. A church, of course, was near at hand, the façade of which ascended into lofty pinnacles, whereon were perched two or three winged figures of stone, either angelic or allegorical, blowing stone trumpets in close vicinity to the upper windows of an old and shabby palace. This palace was distinguished by a feature not very common in the architecture of Roman edifices; that is to say, a mediæval tower, square, massive, lofty, and battlemented and machicolated at the summit.
"At one of the angles of the battlements stood a shrine of the Virgin, such as we see everywhere at the street-corners of Rome, but seldom or never, except in this solitary instance, at a height above the ordinary level of men's views and aspirations. Connected with this old tower and its lofty shrine, there is a legend; and for centuries a lamp has been burning before the Virgin's image at noon, at midnight, at all hours of the twenty-four, and must be kept burning for ever, as long as the tower shall stand; or else the tower itself, the palace, and whatever estate belongs to it, shall pass from its hereditary possessor, in accordance with an ancient vow, and become the property of the Church.
"As Miriam approached, she looked upward, and saw—not, indeed, the flame of the never-dying lamp, which was swallowed up in the broad sunlight that brightened the shrine—but a flock of white doves, shining, fluttering, and wheeling above the topmost height of the tower, their silver wings flashing in the pure transparency of the air. Several of them sat on the ledge of the upper window, pushing one another off by their eager struggle for this favourite station, and all tapping their beaks and flapping their wings tumultuously against the panes; some had alighted in the street, far below, but flew hastily upward, at the sound of the window being thrust ajar, and opening in the middle, on rusty hinges, as Roman windows do."—Transformation.
The next street, on the right, leads to the Church of S. Agostino, built originally by Bacio Pintelli, in 1483, for Cardinal d'Estouteville, archbishop of Rouen and Legate in France (the vindicator of Joan of Arc), but altered in 1740 by Vanvitelli. The delicate work of the front, built of travertine robbed from the Coliseum, is much admired by those who do not seek for strength of light and shadow. This church—dedicated to her son—contains the remains of Sta. Monica, brought hither from Ostia, where she died. The chapel of St. Augustin, in the right transept, contains a gloomy picture by Guercino of St. Augustin between St. John Baptist and St. Paul the Hermit. The high altar, by Bernini, has an image of the Madonna brought from Sta. Sophia at Constantinople, and attributed to St. Luke. The second chapel in the left aisle has a group of the Virgin and Child with St. Anna, by Andrea Sansovino, 1512.
On the third pilaster, to the left of the nave, is a fresco of Isaiah by Raphael, painted in 1512, but retouched by Daniele de Volterra in the reign of Paul IV. The prophet holds a scroll with words from Isaiah xxvi. 2. Few will agree with the stricture of Kugler:—
"In a fresco, representing the prophet Isaiah and two angels, who hold a tablet, the comparison is unfavourable to Raphael. An effort to rival the powerful style of Michael-Angelo is very visible in this picture; an effort which, notwithstanding the excellence of the execution in parts, has produced only an exaggerated and affected figure."—Kugler, ii. 371.
The church overflows with silver hearts and other votive offerings, which are all addressed to the Madonna and Child of Andrea Sansovino, close to the west entrance, which is really a fine piece of sculpture—for an object of Roman Catholic idolatry.
"On the pedestal of the image is inscribed—'N. S. Pio VII. concede in perpetuo 100 giorni d'indulgenza da lucrarsi una volta al giorno da tutte quelle che divotamente toccheranno il piede di questa S. Immagine recitando un Ave Maria per il bisogno di S. Chiesa. 7 Giug. MD.CCCXXII."
Around this statue are, or were a short time ago, a whole array of assassins' daggers hung up, strange instances of trespass-offering.
"The Church of S. Agostino is the Methodist meeting-house, so to speak, of Rome, where the extravagance of the enthusiasm of the lower orders is allowed the freest scope. Its Virgin and Child are covered, smothered, with jewels, votive offerings of those whose prayers the image had heard and answered. All round the image the walls are covered with votive offerings likewise; some of a similar kind—jewels, watches, valuables of different descriptions. Some offerings again consist of pictures, representing, generally in the rudest way, some sickness or accident, cured or averted by the appearance in the clouds of the Madonna, as seen in the image. Almost the whole side of the church is covered, from pavement to roof, with these curious productions."—Alford's Letters from Abroad.
"It is not long since the report was spread, that one day when a poor woman called upon this image of the Madonna for help, it began to speak, and replied, 'If I had only something, then I could help thee, but I myself am so poor!'
"This story was circulated, and very soon throngs of credulous people hastened hither to kiss the foot of the Madonna, and to present her with all kinds of gifts. The image of the Virgin, a beautiful figure in brown marble, now sits shining with ornaments of gold and precious stones. Candles and lamps burn around, and people pour in, rich and poor, great and small, to kiss, some of them two or three times—the Madonna's foot, a gilt foot, to which the forehead also is devotionally pressed. The marble foot is already worn away with kissing, the Madonna is now rich.... Below the altar it is inscribed in golden letters that Pius VII. promised two hundred days' absolution to all such as should kiss the Madonna's foot, and pray with the whole heart Ave Maria."—Frederika Bremer.
Passing the arch, just beyond this, is the Church of S. Apollinare, built originally by Adrian I. (772—795), but modernized under Benedict XIV. by Fuga. It contains a number of relics of saints brought from the East by Basilian monks. Over the altar, on the left, in the inner vestibule, is a Madonna by Perugino. The church now belongs to the German college.