I concluded my last with a promise, or perhaps I should say a threat, of a walk in the Trastevere, which I am now about to perform. I shall not however, entirely skip over the intervening ground, but glean whatever occurs on the way; and first I will take you to San Carlo, in the Corso; a church which looks better at a distance than near, because the general form of the front is that of a Greek temple crowned with a pediment, but on approaching we find so many breaks and angles, cutting through cornice, pediment, and everything else, that all beauty of design is lost: the interior is good, but there are others better of the same sort in Rome. Another church in the Corso, is that of Gesù e Maria. Not by any means one of the largest, or richest churches in this city, yet a priest who accompanied me, assured me that he had spent 7,000 crowns, raised entirely by voluntary contributions, in putting up an altar, and otherwise decorating one of the side chapels; and there is no reason to distrust his information. It was dedicated to La Madonna del divin Ajuto, and the father gave me her picture.
Not far from this is the Palazzo Rondadini, famous not in itself, but for two exquisite festoons of fruit and leaves in white marble, built up in the wall of the court. At a very short distance is the Mausoleum of Augustus, originally a vast circular edifice, composed of concentric circles, rising higher as they approached the middle, and forming a succession of terraces adorned with trees,[2] as we learn from the medals representing it. The outer circle, or perhaps circles, are now destroyed; and we have only the central mass formed of rubble, with facings of reticulated work, and the upper part reduced into an amphitheatre for the exhibition of fire-works, and of bull-fights. What is below I do not know. Piroli has given a section which represents it as nearly solid.
Our next step will be to the Ripetta, the resort of the smaller barks which navigate the Tiber. A large flight of steps leads down to the water, and a ferry will, if you please, carry you to a footpath across some meadows, affording a pleasanter, but somewhat longer, walk to the Vatican. The long succession of streets which conducts us to the Ponte Sant Angelo, is one of the most disagreeable of the principal avenues of Rome. In it we find the great Palazzo Borghese, shaped as you are told, like a harpsichord, not however from any predilection for this form, but to accommodate it to the shape of the ground. Externally, it has no architectural merit except that of size. Each story has its mezzanine, an arrangement which would be convenient in a large hotel, for the independent accommodation of a number of families, but which wants the unity of a princely residence. The court is admired by some persons, but I do not much like it; it is surrounded by arches supported on coupled columns; an arrangement which has neither the solidity of a pier, nor the lightness, and grace, of a single column.
But who thinks of the architecture, while painting here displays all its glories. The collection is immense, but what is more, the pictures are wonderfully fine. The Deposition from the cross, though executed before Raphael had gained the richness and force of colour exhibited in his latest pictures, in design, and expression, may rank with anything he ever did. I must not begin upon this subject; criticisms on paintings if not excellent, are worthless, and since I cannot hope that mine will stand in the first predicament, I will not expose them to the latter imputation.
The Church of Sant Agostino, is not praiseworthy for its architecture, but it contains some fine Guercinos, and a head of Isaiah by Raphael, which is much admired. In the convent is a library of old books (there are no new ones in Rome), which is open to the public every morning from eight to twelve, except on feast days.
From Sant Agostino, we may visit San Luigi de’ Francesi, which is very rich, and rather handsome (I speak of the inside, the outsides of Roman churches I seldom pretend to criticise). The dome springs from the same height as the vaulting of the nave, the diameter being from angle to angle. Its merits consist in a remarkably fine Francesco Bassan, a painter usually little thought of in Rome but this is really worth seeing for the character of the heads; and a chapel, containing a copy by Guido, of the Santa Cecilia of Raphael, and adorned by the frescos of Domenichino.
We pass by the Palazzo del Governo, i. e. the police office, a rich, but not handsome building, formerly the Palazzo Madama, and by the Sapienza, of which I have already given you some account, and we may go through the church of San Giacomo degli Spagnoli into the Piazza Navona, the ancient Circus Agonalis, or rather the Circus of Alexander Severus, the form of which it preserves. There are no remains visible, but probably some might be found in the cellars of the surrounding houses, if it were worth while to search for them. In the circuit of this long opening, we may admire the church of Santa Agnese, the Palazzo Pamfili adjoining, and the Palazzo Braschi, which I shall shortly describe to you; but of the latter little is seen.
Within the Piazza, the ornaments are three fountains; the middle consists of a great rock, with figures of rivers rising from a large basin; the rock is perforated in both directions, yet on the top is placed an obelisk fifty-one feet high, which was found in the circus of Caracalla. This absurdity is the admired work of Bernini, who is said himself to have been so much ashamed of it, that he pulled up the blinds of his carriage whenever he passed the Piazza Navona to avoid seeing it. Races are sometimes exhibited here, and the people are said to enjoy them the more, because the sharp turn at one end, taking place on the hard pavement, frequently produces serious accidents. If so, something of the detestable gladiator taste of the empire still subsists at Rome, but I hope, for the honour of human nature, that it is not true.
A portico has recently been added to the church of San Pantaleo, in which the Ionic order of the Athenian temple of Erectheus has been imitated; but the moulding within the volute is too strongly marked, and the recess which separates its folds is too deep; these faults quite spoil its effect. It is besides an order of very peculiar character, not suited to every situation.
Close by this is the Braschi Palace, of great size, and built of excellent, pale-coloured brickwork, with stone ornaments. The foundations were laid, according to Uggeri, in this manner. After the trenches were dug, water was introduced to the depth of about a foot, and stones and liquid mortar were thrown in, without order, and formed one solid mass, upon which the walls were afterwards built. According to the same writer this method is common in Rome, and certainly the present edifice does credit to the practice.
Though irregular in its form, and not very good in its details, there is perhaps, no building in Rome which has more the air of a palace. A coach was turning round in the hall, as I entered it for the first time. The staircase is very noble, and rich in marbles; the steps are supported on arches resting on columns, and these arches are not semicircles, with an upright addition to the lower part, to compensate for the different heights at which the columns are placed, but are curved immediately from the lower column, as well as from the upper; the tangent at each springing being vertical. The effect is grand, but the arrangement is not satisfactory, nor have I ever seen any that was, in an open staircase of more than one story, where the steps were too wide to be well supported by their insertion into the wall. There is a collection of ancient marbles in some unfinished rooms, the pride of which is an exquisite colossal statue of Antinous, found at Palestrina. There are also paintings on the second floor, but I could not obtain admittance.
At the angle of this palace is the mutilated trunk called Pasquin, the ancient receptacle of squibs against the government, and against conspicuous individuals; but he speaks no more, though the name is preserved.
If we continue our walk at the back of the Piazza Navona, we shall find the Church of the Santa Maria dell’ Anima: so called from an image of the Madonna with two little figures kneeling to her, representing two souls of the faithful. It would appear therefore, that it ought to be delle anime. The piers are very slender, and the church has this singularity, that the side aisles are as high as the middle. The effect is good, and we may be sure it is owing to the disposition, since the eye is not cheated into admiration by any richness of ornament, or beauty of detail. The altar-piece is by Giulio Romano, a fine picture, but much blackened.
Near this is the Church of Santa Maria della Pace, which has on the outside, a large, semicircular, Doric portico, with coupled columns. There seems no reason for the coupling, and all the other parts are bad. Here are the Sybils of Raphael, which, though they have lost something of their original value by time and retouching, are still fine frescos; and this church also exhibits a small quantity of very beautiful cinque cento ornament. There are also some frescos of Albano.
The cloisters are the design of Bramante; they are formed by arches between columns and pedestals below; and columns backed by little piers, and detached columns over the crown of the arch, form a gallery above. The effect is not displeasing, yet when the columns are thus placed upon arches, (if such a liberty is to be allowed at all) it is better to keep them very small, and put two in each space.
In this quarter of the city stands also the Chiesa Nuova, rich and ugly. In the altar-piece, Rubens has painted one picture within another; the Madonna and Child being separated by a gilt frame from the figures which are adoring them, and which seem therefore to be adoring the picture. Adjoining it is the Oratorio of San Filippo Neri, where you will only go, if you wish to see how ill a great sum of money can be spent.
Before crossing the Tiber, we may visit the Church of San Giovanni de’ Fiorentini, begun by Michael Angelo Buonarroti, but continued either by Giacomo della Porta, or by Sansovino, for it is uncertain which was employed. I should rather attribute it to Sansovino, for Giacomo della Porta is more confused in his arrangement. A continued pedestal runs above the cornice, from which springs a waggon-headed vault with the windows groined into it; and if on this vault there were ribs of architecture, instead of its being whitewashed, as it really is, the disposition and proportions would have a good effect.
The bridge of Sant Angelo was erected by Hadrian, re-erected by Clement VII., and adorned, or disfigured, with unmeaning statues by Bernini, under Clement IX. I do not know that figures are always to be rejected on the balustrades of houses or bridges, yet in fact they seldom look well. This bridge consists of three large arches and two smaller ones on each side, the larger only giving a passage to the river at its usual level, and forming a water-way of 178 feet. The depth in the arches for the greatest part of the year is about 22 feet, according to Piranesi, from whom I have taken these dimensions. In the month of August it falls as low as to 17. In the winter floods it rises to 34, and in 1750 it rose to 43 feet. The whole width of the stream below the bridge is 248 feet in common cases, but it may spread to above 400 without overflowing its banks. I do not know its rate, but it seems a pretty rapid current.
Immediately opposite the bridge, stands the Mausoleum of Hadrian. Augustus built his sepulchre for himself and his family, including servants and dependents, and a large building, if not a sumptuous one, seems necessary for such a purpose. Hadrian is supposed to have built his, with all the selfishness of despotism, for himself alone. Hadrian shall never be my hero; he had no high and generous feeling; yet even he, in his immense villa at Tivoli, had some view towards his fellow-creatures, their wants and welfare. Enough remained of the spirit of liberty to convince him, that his glory was intimately connected with their use and advantage, while Louis XIV. at Versailles, seems to have had all his thoughts begin and end in himself. What remains of this vast burying-place consists of a basement 253 feet square, with a circular tower in the centre, about 192 feet in diameter. This circular part is now a mere mass, but it is said to have been highly adorned with marbles and statues, and surrounded with a magnificent circle of the beautiful columns which are still shown in the church of St. Paul. Notwithstanding this evidence the fact is very doubtful.
St. Gregory saw an angel on the top of this Mausoleum, in the year 593, and from that, the building has obtained the name of Castello di Sant Angelo. Perhaps it would be more correct to say, that the name is derived from the figure of an angel in bronze, commemorative of the event or of the tradition, which now majestically crowns the edifice. This statue was not erected till the time of Benedict XIV., but it was preceded by one executed in marble by Raffaello di monte Lupo.
From this castle are exhibited the famous fireworks of the 28th and 29th June, the feasts of St. Peter and St. Paul, originally designed by Michael Angelo. The first flight of rockets is 4,500, and it forms a complete canopy of fire. The exhibition is over in an hour, and does not linger through half the night. In exhibitions of this sort, and in the lengthened entertainments at theatres and balls, it seems as if there were something in the English character which impels us to drain the cup of pleasure to the dregs.
And now, instead of going up to the Vatican, we will keep to the left, along the street, and by the hospital of the Spirito Santo, where the mortality of the patients is said to be one in three, but I suspect there are circumstances which make a comparison of this sort very fallacious; and to the gate now distinguished by the same name, which divides two parts of the city. It was begun by Michael Angelo, and never was finished, and probably never will be; what is built is in good character, but follows, I know not why, a curved line, when a straight one would have been better. We do not hence pursue our way at once by the long street called the Lungara, but turn up by Sant Onofrio, a church erected about the middle of the fifteenth century, where we see some frescos of Domenichino, worthy a better subject than the legend of St. Jerome; a beautiful Madonna by Leonardo da Vinci; and the tomb of Tasso. Here was also the tomb of Barclay, the author of the Argenis; and the tomb may still exist, but the stone which marked it is gone, because as the priest told me it was roba spurca. I do not know what he meant.
We now return to the Lungara, a long street parallel with the Tiber, with some good houses, or as they are here called, palaces, amongst which are the Farnesina, which I have already described, and the Corsini, which really does deserve the name. It extends above 200 feet along the street, presenting on the principal story, a range of seventeen windows. Though large, it is not handsome. The entrance however, is truly magnificent. Passing through a spacious vestibule, we arrive at the foot of the staircase, which diverging to the right and left, returns in the centre, leaving space for a carriage-road underneath it. Here is an admirable collection of pictures, which I shall not pretend to enumerate, and a fine library, open to the public from nine to twelve, for a considerable portion of the year, but not much attended to of late, as perhaps you will conclude, when I tell you that it contains four copies of the first volume of Stuart’s Athens, and none of the second or third, and when a stranger goes, the librarians seem to perform their task grudgingly. Many things of this sort were at one time to be found in Rome, but none of them are now kept up with spirit.
Behind the palace is the Villa, for as I have already said, this term is applied in Italy to the ground, and not to the buildings. It is delightfully situated on the slope of the Janiculum, but all this part lies under a horrible imputation of mal aria.
Issuing from this palace we may descend to the Ponte Sisto, the ancient Janiculensis, but the present edifice is I believe entirely modern. On the other side is the fountain of this name. The water guggles from a hole in a wall forming the back of an arched recess, into a vase just below, over the edges of which it runs, and falls into the basin at bottom. The architecture is not bad, but the principal fall ought to have been first. A few steps farther on, is the Church of the Santissima Trinità, famous for a picture of the Trinity by Guido. If the head of the Deity had been intended for that of Moses, it would be universally acknowledged sublime, but the attempt to represent this subject, must always produce disappointment or disgust.
Near this is the Monte di Pietà, a public establishment for lending money on pledges, and resembling perhaps in some degree our savings banks.
We return again over the bridge, and ascending by the mills supplied from the Fontana Paolina, go to the botanic garden, which contains but few plants.[3] It occupies a situation just above the fountain, which indeed pours forth a river. There are three equal arches discharging as many equal streams of water, and two smaller ones, with only a spout in each. An enormous attic rises above these arches, to receive the inscription, and the whole is crowned with a sort of pediment ornament, much like that at the Fontana Felice, somewhat larger, and considerably worse. The whole merit of the thing consists in the great abundance of water; but it is said not to be good. I do not know precisely whether it is brought from the lake of Bracciano, or from springs in that neighbourhood. It is clear and bright, and supplies fountains and turns mills, to which purpose it is almost exclusively applied, as well as any water could do.
A short walk conducts us to the Church of San Pietro in Montorio, rising on an advancing point of the Janiculum, and commanding a glorious view, including almost all the objects of antiquity in Rome which can possibly be comprised in any general view; and nearly all the modern city, with its domes and palaces; the Tiber; the seven hills, or rather six, for the eye cannot hence distinguish the Viminal, three of which are covered with gardens and vineyards; Monte Testaccio; great part of the walls, and the country beyond them; Monte Albano; and the Apennines.
The church itself has two orders in front, each presenting a single pilaster at each angle of the building. The lower includes a large and handsome doorway, the upper a single circular window. The simplicity of this disposition renders it superior to most of the church fronts in Rome. It was built about 1500, at the expense of Isabella of Spain, wife of Ferdinand the Fourth.
Within this church was once the glory of modern art, the Transfiguration of Raphael, now in the Vatican, after its journey to Paris; and there still is a Flagellation, coloured by Sebastian del Piombo, from the design of Michael Angelo. It is an admirable painting, but like all frescos, in a state of decay.[4]
In the cloister of the convent annexed to this church, is the famous Tempietto of Bramante, built on the spot where St. Peter was crucified; and the hole in which the cross stood, is shewn exactly in the centre of the present building. It is a little circular structure, surrounded by a peristyle of sixteen Doric columns, and this circle of columns, with its pedestal and the steps up to it, is beautiful. Everything is well proportioned, and in its just place; but the upper part of the edifice is not good. The parts within the portico are crowded and confused, and the inside has little or no beauty.
From San Pietro we descend to the Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere, and to that of San Grisogono, both of which I have described to you.
That of Santa Cecilia is in a similar style, with ancient columns, and originally a flat ceiling, but this is now replaced by a low elliptical vault, leaving space only for very low windows. The disposition is displeasing in itself, and the more so, from its want of suitableness to the lower parts; an appearance of lightness may be given to a small arch, which cannot by any means be preserved in a continued vault. A row of columns supporting such a vault, has therefore always the appearance of insufficiency. The statue of the saint is much admired.
We will now leave the Trastevere, and pass over the Bridge of Cestius, now of St. Bartholomew, into the island, which is also dedicated to that saint; considerable vestiges of the ancient bridge remain. It was built in the 788th year of Rome, but restored in 368 of the Christian era. In a convent in the island, we find a waxen bust of one of the monks, who was a friend of Canova, made by that artist. It is admirably executed, and coloured like nature, but the stillness of the open blue eyes represents death, and not life. In the garden of the same convent, and from the shore just below it, you may see the small remnants of the temple of Æsculapius, which was built in the form of a ship. Something of this shape is still distinguishable, and also a portion of the serpent. The temple of Vesta, the mouth of the Cloaca maxima, and Ponte Rotto, unite into a fine composition, as seen from the point of the island. After crossing the other branch of the Tiber, on the Ponte di Quattro Capi, which retains in its piers some fragments of the Pons Fabricius, built in 733 of Rome; we may visit the Palazzo Mattei, which I notice, not for its architecture, nor for its paintings, though it contains a fine collection, but for the great quantity of bas-reliefs, built up in the walls. They would make an interesting museum, if put together in a place where they were well seen; but here, besides being exposed to the injuries of the weather, they are almost lost as separate objects, and they take away from what beauty there is in the architecture. In the lower court are some valuable fragments of architectural ornament, built up in the same manner, and in particular, two semicircular windows, where the rich foliage which occupies great part of the opening, shews that the ancients knew how to produce an effect, somewhat similar to that of the tracery in our Gothic windows, and in some respects superior to it, without at all departing from the character of their own architecture.
I have not mentioned the Church of San Carlo a’ Catinari, which however is a fine church, in the form of a Greek cross, or rather a Latin cross reversed, for the choir forms a longer arm than the others, and even these, being nearly equal to the width of the dome, are rather too deep. The gilding and ornament is spotty, but the frescos of Domenichino are very good, not equal however, to those at Sant Andrea.
In our way home we may look at the Church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, in front of which is a paltry little obelisk, mounted upon the back of an elephant. The church was built about 1370, and retains a good deal of the work of that period, but it is only a sort of ill-understood Gothic. This church contains the celebrated statue of our Saviour supporting his cross, by Michael Angelo. Milizia calls it a ruffian, which however it is not; though the action is rather strong. The expression of the head in some points of view is fine, and even sublime; but not equally so in all; the muscles are large and flabby.
In the annexed convent is a library, said to be one of the richest in Italy; it was founded by Cardinal Casanatta, who left a considerable sum for its support, but like other things at Rome, it is a century behind London and Paris, and the Index expurgatorius is a great enemy to all public libraries.
Having given you an account of what is found in the inside of this great city, I shall proceed to the walls which enclose it, beginning with the Porta del Popolo, for the small part between this and the river presents no object of interest. This gate, according to the guide-books, was re-built from a design by Michael Angelo, and executed under the direction of Vignola; but it is not good, and part of it is more ancient, for the holes in the external towers, now filled up, but evidently made in order to get at the metal cramps which fastened the stones together, attest the antiquity of the lower part.
Turning to the right, the wall, strengthened with buttresses and arched recesses, forms the support of the Pincian hill. In this part we find the Muro torto, a great square mass, placed at an angle in the circuit, and corresponding in construction with the walls, that is, it is of rubble-work, with a facing of reticulated tufo. It considerably overhangs its base. There is no opening below, but above there appear to have been recesses and arches, corresponding with those of the wall. Antiquaries are not agreed as to what it has been. Beyond these we have towers and curtains of more modern work, erected for the purpose of city walls. Here and there a very ragged foundation occurs, which is perhaps of earlier date, and in one or two places there are blocks of marble, and other more decisive indications of ancient edifices.
The Porta Pia was opened by Pius the Fourth, in 1561. The designs were Michael Angelo’s, but it has never been finished, nor would it be handsome if it were. Here, by way of ornament, we see pateras with linen hanging over them, said to represent a barber’s basin and towel, and to have been intended by M. A. Buonarroti as a reproach to his employer for the lowness of his origin; but conveying a much severer reproach against M. Angelo himself, if the story be true; but it is exceedingly improbable.
After this we distinguish the external form of the Prætorian camp, and the wall is plain and without towers. In one place there are arches in the upper part, and traces of walls advancing at right angles. After this is a gateway stopt up, with one large scheme arch below, and six little arches above. Then comes the Porta San Lorenzo, built in the same style, perhaps by Aurelian, and repaired in 403, under the most unconquered princes, Arcadius and Honorius, as is recorded by an inscription. Within this is an arch of the aqueduct of the Aqua Marcia, repaired successively by Augustus, Titus, and Caracalla. There are stones disposed pedimentwise over the arch, and one of the ancient inscriptions runs horizontally across these stones. The walls continue to be of brick, with many towers, till we arrive at the angle by the Porta Maggiore, where some ancient aqueducts enter the walls. The Porta Maggiore is constructed of large blocks of travertine, and consisted anciently of two arches, as was usual in city gates, and three niches ornamented internally with cornices and pediments, one between, and one on each side of the entrances. It is supposed in the first instance to have formed part of an aqueduct, afterwards built up in the city walls; and if of five arches of an aqueduct three were filled up, and the two intermediate ones left open, a similar arrangement would result. Only one arch is now open, and the one which has been stopped up, does not seem to correspond exactly either in height or direction, with that through which the road passes. Two watercourses, the Anio novus and the Claudia, passed over it anciently, and the Acqua Felice has since been conducted through it. Three large inscriptions give due honours to Claudius, Vespasian, and Titus. Just to the north of this gate three other water-courses enter the wall of the city. The two upper are the Julia and Tepula, in rubble-work, which rest upon the constructions in peperino, of the Marcia. Another half buried, supposed to be the Anio vetus, is seen at the bottom. I hope in a succeeding walk to be able to give you some further idea of these aqueducts. To the right, as you issue from the gate, you find the wall made up of an ancient aqueduct, by filling up the arches; this is also observable on the inside, where, from the garden containing the temple of Venus and Cupid, you may trace a considerable portion of the different constructions.
A little after leaving these aqueducts, you arrive at the remains of an amphitheatre, part of the circuit of which is built up in the walls; it consists of a range of Corinthian columns with arches between them, all of brick, and a small fragment of a second range; the brickwork is pretty well executed, but by no means equal to that of the temple of Rediculus. It is remarkable that the bricks of the arches are laid to a centre considerably lower than the centre of the curve. They are redder and longer than the others.
In this part are various traces of old foundations built up in the circuit of the wall, and nearer to the Porta San Giovanni, some reticulated work occurs. This gate is entirely modern, and not of an architecture to require any attention. Very near to it is another gate which has been stopped up. After this the walls are of very shabby brickwork, propt up by buttresses of different dates, and here and there shewing traces of the old work of walls or sepulchres. Here as I was making my memoranda, (in May, 1817) I found a poor wretch who was seeking, if by chance he could find anything which could be eaten, among the refuse vegetables which the gardeners had thrown over the walls. I gave him two bajocs, for which he was extremely grateful, and would kiss my hand. I did not like absolutely to refuse the customary expression of gratitude, but I quite felt the dirt. This may serve to shew to what a state the people here are reduced, by the failure, or at least the great deficiency both of the vintage and the harvest, last year.
The next gate is the Porta Latina, which is shut. There is the fragment of a brick edifice, just out of the walls, in the style of the temple of Rediculus, but of the Doric order, with two half columns of brick. In one place among the old peperino constructions which support the wall, are appearances which indicate a casing of marble or travertine.
At a small distance is the Porta San Sebastiano, the lower part of which is of squared blocks of marble, well put together. This projecting part of the present walls is far beyond the ancient circuit, and the character of the work is quite different from that of the Porta San Lorenzo, or Porta Maggiore, but has more affinity with that of the Porta del Popolo. Above the marble, the towers are carried up square, in brickwork, but the highest part is circular.
Between this and the Porta San Paolo, besides the usual, or perhaps more than the usual portion of included fragments, many of which were probably tombs, we have traces of more recent works, and of the fortifications of modern times. Beyond the Porta San Paolo, there is no road under the walls, and I did not attempt to find my way through the vineyards, to the shores of the Tiber. Inside, however, they exhibit a series of open arches towards Monte Testaccio, and the Prati del Popolo Romano.