You perhaps imagine, from having heard of the dreary and desolate Campagna, that there are no agreeable walks about the city, but if you have formed any such notion, you are very much mistaken. The ground about Rome is exceedingly well disposed for pleasant scenery; the country being intersected by several valleys of no great width, each bounded by steep banks of moderate height, from the top of which you catch the gently varied line of Monte Albano, and the distant Apennines. One of these, Monte Velino, is still covered with snow. The Leonessa held it for a long while; but the highest summit of this part of the chain, which is the Gran Sasso, rising to an elevation of very nearly 9,000 feet, is not visible from any place near Rome. All these points of the Apennines are in the Neapolitan territory. Each valley has nearly a flat bottom, forming rich meadows, which in winter are very wet, and many of them are at times inundated. Wherever art has interfered to adorn these slopes, or where some natural patch of wood is suffered to grow, the effect is highly pleasing, especially if in addition, some picturesque ruin crown the summit. Sometimes when the eye is elevated above these slopes, such features enrich the nearer landscape, while the long lines of the ancient aqueducts give an interest to the middle distance; but it must be confessed that little advantage is made of this disposition of the ground, and that the general character of uncultivated nakedness is far from agreeable.
I will take you in this letter through the Porta del Popolo, and our first visit shall be to the house or casino, once inhabited by Raphael. It stands in a garden close by the walls, and is without architectural ornament, yet it forms a good object; to which the woods of the Villa Borghese extending behind it, contribute not a little. Within is a chamber adorned with the most beautiful little fancies, such as one may suppose would be floating in the mind of a Raphael, and which he might find pleasure in tracing as they occurred, without using any labour about them, or working on any predetermined plan. A parcel of delightful little cherubs have stolen the arrows of Cupid, who is represented asleep, and they are amusing themselves with shooting at a target; there are also four rounds with female heads, one of which is particularly beautiful. Other figures seated among the arabesques are highly graceful, and there is in all so much life and nature, that it is quite a pleasure to look at them.
Returning from this we pass into the Villa Borghese, through a gateway whose piers are copied from two sepulchres which have been supposed to mark the entrance to Adrian’s villa, near Tivoli. These are surmounted by two eagles of a fine, broad, noble character. The villa itself is a garden or pleasure ground, said to be three miles in circumference, with shady walks, which we found delightful as early as the 4th February, and tall stone pines scattered about the more open parts. These trees, and the Ilices are the most important circumstances in the beauty of the place. There is a pretty lake, and a considerable variety of ground and of scenery; and several buildings, not perhaps very beautiful in themselves, but assisting the general character of the place. Art appears everywhere, but not obtrusively, and without pretence. The upper casino, if not beautiful on the outside, produces at least a rich and magnificent effect. The general disposition is good, but the roofs are not well managed, and the middle is too high; it looks better, as do most of these over-ornamented fronts, in reality, than in a drawing or engraving, because the artist almost always makes the ornaments too prominent. The gallery within is a noble room, about 65 feet long, 30 broad, and 33 high; the enrichments are gold and white, on chocolate and blue. Here was once a superb collection of antiques, but it has been purchased by the French government, and now forms a large part of the collection of the Louvre. Bernini’s figures remain, but they are too affected to please; there are also some landscapes and other paintings of no great merit, in the different rooms, but the apartments themselves are of handsome proportions and well disposed. Returning almost to the Porta del Popolo, and thence keeping along the Via Flaminia, we find the Villa Poniatowski, very pleasant and containing a good many antiques, but not of great value; there are a great number of fancy capitals, variations of the Corinthian, some of which are good, but more bad or indifferent.
A little farther is the Villa Giulia, which I have already described; and there is another edifice of simple and not unpleasing architecture, attributed to Antonio Sangallo, also belonging to a villa or vigna Giulia. By these, a lane called Via dell’ Arco Scuro, leads to the Aqua Acetosa, a mineral spring on the banks of the Tiber, having very much the taste of ink. I have also mentioned the chapel of St. Andrew, by Vignola, which is the next object in following the road. A little before arriving at the Ponte Molle, we find another chapel of St. Andrew, or rather a monument erected on the spot, where according to tradition, Pius II., in 1463, met the head of the apostle on its arrival at Rome. Upon a square basement, whose height is probably rather greater than its width, is a little edifice with a column in each angle, a doorway between them in each face, and a pediment above; the four fronts being all precisely alike. Over this is an octagonal drum of very small height, and a little, scaly cupola, surmounted by a cross. The composition is simple and pleasing, for a little thing, but it would not do for a large one.
The Ponte Molle, the ancient Pons Milvius, is the uppermost of the ancient bridges about Rome over the Tiber. It was originally built in the year of Rome 645; but it is doubtful if anything we see remaining be of that period. Yet there is some ancient work in the piers, which is easily distinguished from the later masonry of the arches, attributed to Nicolas V. Till 1805 it was encumbered by an inconvenient tower at one end; but being at that time damaged by an inundation, the road was straightened, and made more commodious, and the tower converted into a sort of triumphal arch; but it boasts no beauty. After crossing the bridge we will take the right hand road up the hill, which coasts the valley of the Tiber. At the distance of about two miles, we again descend, and the road is cut into the hill, shewing it to consist of a gravel principally composed of rounded pebbles of an argillaceous limestone; near the bottom is the Torre di Quinto, standing, not upon this gravel, but upon a fresh water limestone, like the travertine, or the deposit of the Tartar lake, with similar indications of having been formed on reeds, twigs, &c. This again rests on a volcanic tufo, very unequal in substance and surface. The lower part of the limestone includes numerous fragments of this tufo, but there are none of them in the upper part of the bed. The tower itself is of the middle ages.
Beyond the little valley which succeeds, we find a spur of similar limestone, resting on tufo. We cannot distinctly see this pass under the mass of lava, or peperino, or tufo, which forms the next hill, but from its position we may suppose this to be the case. This mass forms a precipice perhaps in some parts 100 feet high, immediately above the road, which here keeps the valley; it exhibits considerable tendency to perpendicular fissures. The bottom of this bed is exhibited in three different places; in the first it rests upon a calcareous gravel, like that of the opposite hill; in the second, on a softish uniform sandstone, which, whether it be volcanic or not, I cannot tell; in the third, on a soft peperino, very different from the mass above, or from anything else in the neighbourhood. In all these, the line of separation is perfectly distinct. A grotto, the tomb of the family of Naso, usually called the tomb of Ovid, is worked in the sandstone. It is adorned with ancient paintings on stucco. A little farther are some other tombs of considerable magnitude; one of them appears to have been a pyramid, or cone, on a square basement. Another was circular externally, with twelve niches, or perhaps eleven niches and a door, and a Greek cross within. A third exhibits merely foundations, nearly level with the plain. Still farther is another pyramidal tomb, which I did not visit.
After satisfying our curiosity here, we return by the same road to the Ponte Molle; afterwards keeping the right bank of the river, and passing through some vineyards still more to the right, we ascend the hill to the Villa Madama. The building, which has never been finished, presents its flank to the side of the hill; a deep loggia in the garden front, has been ornamented with paintings by Giulio Romano, who is also the reputed architect of the villa. This deep loggia, too complicated perhaps in its form, is nevertheless very elegant, and the terrace garden beyond it offers a fine view of the Campagna. All is now neglected and forlorn.
Between this and Rome we may cross Monte Mario, so called, not from the Roman general, but from a villa on the summit, belonging at one time to a certain Mario Mellini. This is the highest hill in the immediate neighbourhood of Rome, and a noble terrace shaded with cypresses commands a magnificent view both of the city and country, from the Apennines to the Mediterranean. If instead of following the road from this place to Rome, we keep a little to the right, we shall find ourselves in the Valle d’ Inferno. Whether this has its name from the mal aria, or from its being infested with robbers, I shall not undertake to decide. It certainly is not from the character of the scenery, which is that of a green secluded valley, winding between steep woody banks of small elevation. If it had not been for its botany I should never have visited it. We re-enter Rome by the Porta Angelica.
A.B. Clayton del. from Sketches by J. Woods
Edwards. Sculp
Ponte Salaria.
London. Published by J & A. Arch, Cornhill. March 1st. 1828.
Our next walk shall be out of the Porta Salaria, on which road the first object is the Villa Albani. The ground floor of the principal building presents a range of ten Ionic pilasters, and in each interpilaster is an arch supported on two small columns. Above, are two ranges of windows, of which the upper ones are circular; and Corinthian pilasters. The distribution of the wings is exactly like that of the lower part of the centre, but on a smaller scale. It must be acknowledged that the masses are well proportioned and finely disposed; this is attributed to the cardinal for whom the villa was made. But the details are bad; for this the architect is answerable. In the inside, the great saloon is a very rich and beautiful room, about 60 feet long, 20 wide, and 30 high. The cabinets are rather too small, but they are handsome rooms, each with a single light. Opposite to this is the café, where there is an open semicircular gallery with Doric pilasters, and eleven arches on Doric columns disposed like those of the principal building. Here again the general proportions are good, and the details bad. There are some other smaller edifices, which I shall not particularize; and it does not come into my plan to attempt the description of the noble collection of marbles which this villa contains. They tell you of hundreds taken away by the French, of which eleven I think, have been restored, but the number is still immense. The views from this villa are magnificent, and on more than one occasion I have seen from these gardens, the Apennines lighted up by the setting sun, in exquisite beauty.
The Ponte Salario is said to have been ruined by Totila, and restored by Narses, but the inscriptions which commemorated those events were lost in 1798, when the bridge was cut by the retreating Neapolitans. It consists of one large arch, perhaps 90 feet wide, and two small ones, one of which is now filled up. The ancient work seems to have been of peperino, the repairs are of travertine, brick, and rubble. Some of the stones of the parapet are still remaining; they are formed thus,
the middle being a sort of pyramid. Beyond this bridge there is a tomb transformed into a tower, and the road leads us to the site of the ancient Fidene; but I turned to the right after crossing the river, and kept under the bank which forms the valley, as far as the Ponte Lamentano, where a large brick arch in the work above, as well as that of the bridge itself, has the appearance of a Roman construction.
Instead of crossing this bridge, we may turn for a few steps along the road to the left, as far as the Mons Sacer, interesting from its place in Roman history, but not in itself a spot distinctly marked either by nature or art. Just at its foot are the remains of two sepulchres; one, which has been an edifice of considerable magnificence, surrounded by a circular colonnade, is ingeniously assigned by the people of Rome to Menenius Agrippa. He was there in his life-time to tell his parable to the plebeians, and therefore he must have been buried there. There are not however, any columns remaining, or anything of much interest in the fragment. The other is still more ruined.
In spite of their extremely dilapidated state, these fragments render the walks about Rome very interesting. They abound in all directions, chiefly on the east of the Tiber, but much more in some places than in others, and allow full liberty for the imagination to speculate on their ancient forms and destinations; for though a few conjectures have been bestowed upon some of them, there is little but conjecture at the best, and nine tenths of the fragments are without any probable guess at what they may have been. A large portion were certainly tombs, but of whom, and of what period, is forgotten.
I often wish for a tolerable map of the neighbourhood, which would show the position of the different objects of our curiosity, especially of the antiquities, and it appears to me a strong feature of the sluggishness of modern Rome, that a work so extremely desirable, should have been so entirely neglected. I say entirely, for Sickler’s miserable map of Latium is not worth mention. I feel the want in nothing more, than in endeavouring to trace the aqueducts. The ancient ones were eleven in number, viz., the Aqua Appia, A.U.C. 442; the Anio vetus, A.U.C. 481; the Aqua Tepula, A.U.C. 628; the Aqua Marcia, A.U.C. 640; the Aqua Julia, A.U.C. 721; the Aqua Virginis, A.U.C. 735; the Aqua Alsietina, A.U.C. 753; the Aqua Claudia, the Anio novus, the Aqua Trajana, and the Aqua Sabatina; the two last are on the west side of the Tiber. Of these aqueducts, the Aqua Virginis still remains, the Acqua Felice may possibly contain the water formerly transported in the channel of the Aqua Tepula, and the Acqua Paolina supplies the place of the Aqua Alsietina. These aqueducts had a few branches in the early part of their course to receive different supplies; and other branches within, and near the city, to distribute their waters: the whole amount of water exceeded 10,000 quinarii, or as Piranesi says 14,000, but how much this quinarius was, is not I believe certainly known. Poleni considers it as a pipe whose diameter is equal to a good-sized finger ring, or about three quarters of an inch. Not a very precise measure, and if it were, yet as we are ignorant at what depth under the usual surface these pipes were placed, or of any other datum by which to determine the velocity of the water, it would be too imperfect to enable us to form a tolerable judgment of the quantity intended. The quinarius may have been of the diameter of a coin of that name, or it may have been the name of a liquid measure equal to five quarters of the sextarius, and the sextarius is about a pint; but then we want the time in which such a measure was supplied. According to Forcellini, and he quotes Frontino, a quinarius is a pipe of the diameter of five quadrantes, and a quadrans, on the same authority, is a quarter of a foot. This would be preposterous, and the ancient remains show, that on an average, the section of each watercourse could not have exceeded an area of ten square feet. A quinarius then is five fourths of something, this seems all that is certain. A circular opening, three-quarters of an inch in diameter, at the depth of four feet from the surface, which is maintained always to the same level, will emit fifty-one cubic inches per second.[5]
Most of the aqueducts approach each other near the Porta Maggiore. The Aqua Virginis, which enters Rome near the Villa Borghese, and the Trasteverine ones being alone wanting, and the modern Acqua Felice may be added to the number. This last runs along the wall from that gate to the Porta San Lorenzo, and then leaving the wall, is seen directing its course towards the Certosa. I shall therefore conduct you to the Porta Maggiore, and then tell you what is to be seen of them beyond it; but before we arrive at the gate, especially if we go from St. John Lateran, we see considerable remains of a branch of the Claudian, built, as we are told, by Nero, to conduct the water to the Palatine; and a little before arriving at the gate, a lane leading to the church of Santa Croce runs under it, and we have full opportunity to examine. It is of beautiful brickwork, at least the facings are so, and is meant for a gateway, since it is composed of one large arch in the middle, and two small arches, one over the other, on each side; and there have been architectural ornaments. The ancient watercourse runs at the top, above these upper arches; but there is one at present, suspended as it were in the upper part of the large arch, and passing at the bottom of the upper side arches, which I suppose to be a branch from the modern Acqua Felice; at least it is only from that, that it can now obtain its water. I have already mentioned to you the remains connected with the wall near the Porta Maggiore, as seen from the inside of the city; the three channels which pass over the gate, and the four which enter the wall on the left as you go out of the gate. The lowest and most ancient, the Aqua Appia enters the city, according to Piranesi, a little to the right of the gate, and winds over the Aventine; but it is almost everywhere buried, nor have I seen it in any one place at Rome, unless it be the lowest of those at the Porta Maggiore, as Piranesi’s plan seems to indicate; but this is usually considered to belong to the Anio vetus. Those which go over the gate are the Aqua Claudia, and Anio novus. There is a series of arches of more ancient date accompanying these along the wall, but what may become of it afterwards I cannot tell. There is no range of arches near the Porta Maggiore connecting with any of the four earlier aqueducts, nor have I been able to determine them with certainty at a greater distance. We see indeed abundant remains of aqueducts, whose long branches are conspicuous objects; winding over the extensive plain, without any apparent reason for the irregularities of their course, which are the more remarkable as they sometimes cross each other; and this circumstance, added to their number, and their mutilated state, renders it difficult to trace them, or to assign to each the arches which belong to it. The elevation doubtless is a very important indication, but this requires the careful levelling and measurement of different parts. The materials are a further guide. In the three which enter the wall together near the Porta Maggiore, the two upper watercourses, supposed to be the Julia and Tepula, are formed of brick and rubble; the lower, that of the Aqua Marcia, is of square blocks of peperino, and the supporting pier is also of that construction. When the Julia was erected in 729 A.U.C., the Tepula is said to have been added to it. I do not understand what is meant by the expression, since the water is accounted for separately, and we still see their distinct channels, but it unfortunately throws a doubt on the date of the present remains; without which we might make a very near approximation to the period of the introduction of rubble-work into these buildings; between 612 A.U.C., the date of the Marcia, and 627 A.U.C., which was that of the Tepula. Of the remaining fragments, some are of stone, others of brickwork, but the former cannot be traced for any continuance; and while two or three are sometimes supported on one range of arches, in other places almost every one seems to have a range to itself. It is curious to trace these repairs executed fifteen centuries ago; the execution of the brickwork in most instances, or perhaps in all, shows them to be decidedly prior to the age of Constantine, and the principal restorations in all probability took place when the upper watercourses were added. They generally consist of brick arches, built within the ancient stone ones, sometimes resting on the old piers, but more often carried down to the ground, and in some cases the whole arch has been filled up, or only a mere doorway left at the bottom. Sometimes this internal work has been wholly or partially destroyed; sometimes the original stone-work has disappeared, as the owner of the ground happened to want bricks or squared stones. In one place the ancient piers have been entirely buried in the more recent brickwork; but the brickwork has been broken, and the original stone-work taken away, presenting a very singular, and at first sight, wholly unaccountable appearance; in other parts the whole has fallen, apparently without having had these brick additions, for a range of parallel mounds marks the situation of the prostrate piers.
Continuing along the road to Præneste, the ancient Via Labicana, for some distance, with these aqueducts and fragments of aqueducts on the right, and observing another, crossing a valley on a much lower level, perhaps connected with the lowest watercourse (that of the Anio vetus) at the Porta Maggiore, we arrive at the Torre Pignattara, said to be the tomb of Helena, the mother of Constantine. Here was found the other great porphyry sarcophagus now in the Vatican, the position of the first I have already mentioned in the church of Santa Constanza. The sculpture is far from good, but it is better than the former. It is said to have been repaired in modern times at the expense of 20,000 crowns, otherwise it might be deemed too good for the age of Constantine. The tower itself is a circular brick building of considerable size, with two stories externally, each of eight arches. There has been a large external niche in the part opposite to the present entrance, and some projecting stones announce a cornice, or perhaps a peristyle, above the lower range of arches. There probably was never much to be admired in it either for design or execution. The dome which covers it is constructed with earthen pots, and the building has thence obtained its name, Pignattara, signifying a pipkin.
The really good things in Roman architecture, of which anything remains to us, are comparatively very few. The temple of Vesta is rather Greek than Roman. Then we have the three columns of Jupiter Stator; three of Jupiter Tonans; the temple of Antoninus and Faustina; that of Mars Ultor, and the portico of the Pantheon, all six of the Corinthian order, nor have we anything of much value of any other. There are magnificent fragments besides, and in particular, some of the marble ornaments in the forum of Trajan raise a high idea of its beauty and perfection. But there is no other building which can be considered as a model. The erections of the four first emperors were generally in good style, and a sentiment of correct taste and feeling existed till the time of Trajan. Under that emperor, the productions of Apollodorus are decidedly superior to most of the edifices which preceded his time, but the artist and the purity of the art were destroyed by Hadrian. Some traces of beauty remain under Severus, but these are gradually lost between him and Constantine. A common country mason in England would make as good designs, would draw the architecture with as much truth and correctness, and execute the ornaments, sculpture included, as well as the artists employed by Constantine. The degree of degradation to which the fine arts had fallen in that period is a very remarkable phenomenon in the history of the human mind; for the empire, though torn and suffering in many parts, was still great and powerful; and both for individuals, and for the public, the arts must still have been exercised. Yet the architects of Constantine’s reign could not find workmen who could give the mouldings a regular curve, or even preserve them in a straight line, or form an even surface.
Beyond the tower of the Pignattara, are a great number of little ruins, mostly of rubble, with a facing of reticulated work in tufo, just of the sort which Vitruvius describes as calculated to last eighty years; yet without being very thick, these walls have probably seen twenty such periods. Most of these buildings have been rectangular, but there is one circular brick building, and there is also a fragment constructed of large blocks of peperino, probably of an early date, and some constructions of opus incertum. Leaving the Præneste road, and turning to the left, I passed another piece of an aqueduct, not rising above the more elevated parts of the Campagna, but which from its position, I should conclude not to be of the same work with a similar piece which I had before left on the right. The remains of both are of rubble-work. This is supposed by Nibby to be the Aqua Alexandrina. Some time after, returning towards Rome, I reached a large round building situate on the ancient Via Prenestina, a road which is now little used, called Torre degli Schiavi, or otherwise the temple of Hope. It is a large, circular, domed, brick building; with two ranges of corbels for cornices, and indications of a large base moulding. The brickwork is not very good. Internally, there are four niches, two small arched recesses, one larger one, and opposite to this last, the doorway. It is of better design than the Torre Pignattara, and has had a portico in front, so that it was almost a miniature of the Pantheon. Some of the stucco remains, and traces of the ornaments, and even of figures, may be observed upon the dome. There appears to have been a range of these figures encircling the dome at the springing, and over them a large ovolo, these eight arches (all in painting), and over these other ornaments. Everything is too much decayed to enable us to judge of the effect, or to fix upon a period for the execution. Some figures of saints, evidently of a later date than the paintings just mentioned, prove it to have been used as a Christian church, which was also the case with the Torre Pignattara. The dome is lightened, as in that building, by the use of pots. The foundations shew that it had a portico, which like that of the Pantheon, contained a large niche on each side of the entrance into the building. There is a circular vault below, supported on a central pier. Several fragments of walls, and remains of foundations may be traced in the neighbourhood, and many of the buildings must have been of considerable size. There is one arrangement which occurs several times here and elsewhere; two, three, or even four, parallel vaults are found below, each of these vaults being sometimes divided into two lengths, by a cross wall; and just as many chambers above, which also have been vaulted. In each of the lower vaults, there appears to have been a door at one end, and no other opening; the upper rooms are in most instances, too much ruined for us to decide on what they have been; but in the one by the Torre degli Schiavi, which is the most perfect I have seen, enough remains to tell pretty decidedly that there was neither door nor window above or below; and neither fireplace nor staircase, nor are there any niches, either for statues, or for the dead bodies, or for cinerary urns, or any deposit from water. What can this have been?
At a little distance is a fragment of another circular building, of the same sort of work, but smaller and more ruinous, and also more buried in its ruins. Enough remains to shew that the dome has been fluted, with a small fillet on the angle of each flute: the flutes have been rounded off in some degree at the bottom. The outside is of reticulated tufo, and seems to have been square. At the distance of a few steps is a building, which is of brick, and octangular below, and of rubble above, the outside covering having disappeared. A tower is built upon part of it, the residence of—I forget who; some noble or robber, names which appear synonymous in the middle ages at Rome. This also is domed. Within are four niches, three recesses, and the door; and we observe here that there have been a circular vault below, and central pier, as in the principal edifice. Some ornaments in relief on the stucco still exist in one of the niches. On one side are some additional buildings, but there has been no door of communication between them and the circular part. There are many other fragments, but these are the most perfect. This group of ruins is sometimes called Roma Vecchia, but there is another Roma Vecchia more considerable, on the Appian way, of which I shall give you some account in my next walk.
Returning to Rome, we find a small building of very neat brickwork, somewhat in the style of the temple of Rediculus, of which my next ramble will also contain an account, but in worse taste, and therefore probably later. It has a lofty frieze, adorned with arches, another proof of the decline of the art.