383. Appreciation of Country Life by the Romans.—No study of Rome can be complete without recognition of one cardinal fact—the intense desire of all Romans to get away from their turbulent city for a large part of the year. The wealthier the citizen the longer is likely to be his absence, although no doubt many a senator or eques growing weary of his luxurious retreat begins to sigh again for the Curia or the counting room long ere the formal “season” has ended.

During the parching summer months the city is really deserted by a great part of its inhabitants. Only the most needful business goes on; the public games are attended merely by the humblest type of plebeians; the rhetoric schools cease their floods of oratory; the great baths really seem empty; and the Forum crowd becomes thinned and spiritless. Every person blessed with a moderate income and leisure has sought the seashore or the mountains.

384. Praises of the Country Towns and Villas.—Never in after ages will the blessings of country as against city life be better appreciated than under the Roman Empire. The congestion, the noise, the hurly-burly of the world metropolis probably exceeds that of any future competitor.

The poets all sing the praises of existence amid rural charms. Martial for example waxes enthusiastic over the chance to “get away” from the porticoes of cold, variegated marbles and from the need of running on morning greetings, so that he can empty his hunting nets before his own fire, lift the quivering fish from the line and draw the yellow honey from the “red-stained cask,” while his plump stewardess cooks his own eggs for him. Juvenal extols the cheapness and satisfaction of living in the country towns where for the rent of a dark garret in Rome you can afford to buy a small house with a neat little garden and a shallow well whence you can draw the water for your own plants. Wealthier folk share the same passion, and Pliny the Younger writes that he longs for the pleasures of his villas “as ardently as an invalid longs for wine, the baths, and the fountains.”

The sentiment, indeed, is so common that no further instances need be cited, save that of Similis, Trajan’s veteran prætorian præfect, who, having retired under Hadrian, has just died after seven years of honorable self-banishment in a quiet country retreat. On his tombstone he has ordered to be graven: “Here lies Similis, an old man, who has LIVED just seven years.”

385. Comfortable Modes of Travel: Luxurious Litters and Carriages.—So then at least by the time of the “tyrannous reign of the Dog Star or the Lion” (mid-summer and September) all the roads leading from Rome are covered with the great cortèges, if indeed, the magnates have not quitted the city much earlier.

This is no place to speak of the admirable Roman road system which spreads as a vast network all over the Empire, and which is, of course, at its best in Italy. Travel for the rich in Hadrian’s day is extremely luxurious if not correspondingly rapid. If you are in no hurry, you can ride in a comfortable litter borne by six or eight even-paced bearers and so outfitted that you can read, write, sleep, and even play at dice, while your retinue is winding its slow way over the Campagna, or up into the mountains. If you are in greater haste, there are speedy if somewhat less steady gigs and other open carriages which energetic people drive themselves, although great folk, of course, demand plenty of postilions and “well-girt running footmen.” In any case the journey from Rome is a matter of great display for anybody with claims to fortune. Fifty slaves and twenty baggage wagons are hardly enough to become a senator; and four times as many of each is not an excessive retinue.

However, less distinguished people can drive about in their own light, open two-wheeled carriages (cisia), or can hire them at the posting stations just outside the gates, and time would fail to tell of all the kinds of carpenta (two-wheeled covered vehicles) or redæ (four-wheeled traveling carriages) which one can meet on the Via Appia or the Via Latina.

Since Rome is a city without railroads and without first-class shipping facilities, necessity has developed this carriage service to a fine point. Some people indeed still bestride mules, like that of Horace, “short of tail and heavy of gait,” and government carriers ride horseback—but the wheeled vehicles are excellent. It will be a long time before they can be surpassed in comfort.[248]

386. Multiplication of Villas: Seashore Estates at Baiæ, etc.—Distant journeys we cannot consider, nor the service of imperial and private messengers to the provinces. Our concern is with the fact that over the whole of west-central Italy, well up into the Apennines, and all along the Etruscan, Latin, and Campanian coasts one luxurious estate follows upon another.

Many of these vast establishments indeed combine profit with pleasure. Landed property is the most genteel form of wealth and close beside the sumptuous villa urbana which imitates the glories of the city mansion, there often spreads the humbler and more utilitarian villa rustica which houses the great gangs of slaves or hireling laborers who keep the broad acres under cultivation.

One cannot turn aside to examine Italian agriculture, but the residence villas are so essential to every Roman of breeding and property that to ignore them is impossible. Persons of means seem always purchasing more villa property, indeed there are not a few magnates who can take a long journey up and down Italy, spending each night upon one of their own estates. If Publius Calvus contents himself with only four country residences, he shows that he is poorer and less pretentious than many fellow senators of prætorian rank.

Inevitably certain places are preferred beyond others. Upon the Bay of Naples people of leisure, who do not mind a hundred and fifty mile journey from Rome, find a famous and delightful center at Baiæ; and indeed in the entire region of this bay, recovering now from the ravages of the outbreak of Mt. Vesuvius. Outward along the more southerly Bay of Pæstum [Bay of Salerno] the shore is lined with one lofty marble-crowned villa after another, often erected upon elaborate jetties thrusting far out into the sapphire sea.

There is, however, a whole series of handsome seaboard villas all the way southward from Ostia—and Antium, Circei, Tarracina (where the Via Appia strikes the coastline), and Formiæ are only a few of those luxurious colonies to which the wealth and fashion of Rome scatter during several months of the year. Many is the senator, eques, or great freedman who can boast also of his magnificent yacht, painted in gay colors, with purple sails, purple awnings on the poop, with rigging entwined on gala days with leaves and flowers, and with liveried rowers who are trained to swing together like automata.

387. Villas in the Mountains; Small Farms near Rome.—A great many Romans, however, disperse towards the hills; indeed there are many rich persons whose business will not permit them to go many miles from the city, and others who keep a suburban villa for casual visits from the town, reserving the seashore or the Apennines for the months when the law courts are closed and the Senate forgets to assemble. Calvus, we have seen, possesses a remote estate in the North by one of the Italian lakes which he can visit only on set occasions, another at Bauli close to Baiæ, also somewhat rarely visited, a third in the Etruscan hills which is his regular retreat in hot weather, and a fourth, a simpler affair, located a few miles up the Anio toward Tibur.

This last near Rome, so the senator likes to boast, is of real Spartan simplicity. He affects to take great pleasure there in his hennery maintained so near to the metropolis, the great flocks of geese, Numidian (guinea) fowl, and Rhodian cocks and hens and the fields of vegetables very grateful when sent down by the villicus (farm steward) to the city mansion. One suspects, however, that there is greater satisfaction taken in the hot houses where, under the expensive but well-known luxury of glass, rare fruits are ripened in cold weather, and whence roses, violets, narcissus, hyacinths, and lilies are dispatched to Rome for the clarissimus’s banquets.

This establishment near the capital is, in fact, hardly the kind of retreat Calvus likes best, although a good many literary gentlemen, like Suetonius the biographer of the Cæsars, retire to modest suburban estates “large enough to engage their minds but not large enough to give them worry.” In such retreats they can pursue their learned labors, “get rid of their headaches and walk lazily around their boundary paths,” and yet keep in touch with their city friends.

388. Great Estates in the Hills: Pliny’s Tuscan Villa.—It is the great villa in the hills which is the normal retreat and joy of Calvus, his noble Gratia, and their equally noble children. Such places, be it noticed, the true Roman does not care to locate very near to grandiose mountain scenery. He is not fond of overpowering sublime views; what he prefers is a gentle aspect over smiling plains, lush meadows, and fertile corn-fields.

Lucretius rejoiced in the happy intervals when he could “recline by a brook of running water beneath the leafage of a lofty tree,” and Virgil desired “that he might always love tilled fields and streams that flow among the valleys.” Hadrian is somewhat exceptional, among other ways, in that he enjoys toiling up high mountains like Ætna for the sake of the magnificent view. The average senator desires to ascend no further than he can comfortably drive in his cisium, or be swung along in his litter.

The Tuscan villa of Calvus is easily visited. It constitutes, in fact, an estate which the senator purchased some years ago from the heirs of the younger Pliny. Few changes beyond needful repairs have been made since its completion, and no words of ours can surpass those of its former owner in explaining why life seems very pleasant to those whom Jupiter or Destiny have made rich and fortunate in the imperial age.[249]

389. Charming Location of Pliny’s Villa.—“This property (wrote Pliny) lies just under the Apennines, which are the healthiest of our mountain ranges. In winter the air is cold and frosty; myrtles, olives, and all other trees which require a constant warmth the climate spurns, although the laurel usually prospers. But in summer the heat is marvelously tempered; there is always a breath of air stirring, and mild breezes are more common than high winds. The contour of the district is most beautiful.

“Picture an immense amphitheater, wrought by Nature, with a wide-spreading plain ringed with hills and the summits thereof covered with the tall and ancient forests. Here there is plenty of hunting, while down the mountain slopes there are stretches of underwoods, and among these are rich deep-soiled hillocks which bear excellent crops. Below these hillocks in turn, along the whole hillsides, stretch the vineyards which present an unbroken line far and wide, bordered with a fringe of trees. Then you can come down to the meadows and fields where the soil is so thick that only the most powerful oxen can tug the plows; but the meadows are jeweled with flowers, and produce trefoil, and other herbs, always tender and soft.

“Through the middle of this plain flows the Tiber. Here it is navigable for boats which carry down grain to the city in winter and spring, although in summer the channel is only a dried-up bed. Gazing over the district from the heights you think you are not looking so much upon earth and fields but at a landscape picture of wonderful loveliness.

“My villa, though, lies at the foot of the hill enjoying as fine a prospect as though it stood on the summit, the ascent is so gentle, easy and unnoticeable. Behind lie the Apennines, but at a considerable distance, yet even on a cloudless day the spot gets a gentle breeze duly tempered from the hills.”

390. Terraces of the Villa: the Porticoes: Summer-Houses and Bedrooms.—“Most of the house faces southward inviting the sun as it were into the portico which is broad and long to correspond, and contains a number of apartments and an old-fashioned hall. In front there is a terrace bounded with an edging of box, then comes a sloping ridge of turf with figures of animals on both sides cut out of the box trees, while on the level ground stands an acanthus tree, with leaves so soft that I might almost call them liquid. Around about there is a walk bordered by evergreens pressed and trimmed into various shapes; then comes an exercise ground, round like a circus, which surrounds the box trees which are cut into different forms, and the dwarf shrubs that are kept well clipped.[250] Beyond these there stretches a meadow delightful for its natural charm as the things just described are for their artificial beauty.

“At the head of the portico juts out the triclinium from the doors whereof can be seen this terrace, meadow, and the expanse of country beyond. Almost opposite the middle of the portico is a summer-house with a small open space in the middle shaded by four plane trees. Among them stands a marble fountain, from which the water plays upon and sprinkles slightly the roots of the plane trees and the grass plot around the four.

“In this pavilion there is located a bed chamber which excludes all light, noise and sound, and adjoining it is another dining room especially for my friends, which commands also a delightful view. There is still another bed chamber, however, which is embowered and shaded by the nearest plane tree and built of marble up to the balcony; above [in the ceiling] is a picture of a tree with birds perched in the branches, equally as beautiful as the marble. Here, too, there is a small fountain with a basin around the latter, and into it the water flows from a number of little pipes which produce a most agreeable liquid sound.

“In the corner of the portico there is yet a third bed chamber leading out of the dining-room, some of its windows looking forth upon the terrace, others upon the meadow, while the windows in front face the fish-pond which lies just beneath them: right pleasant it is both to eye and to ear, as the water falls from a considerable height and glistens like snow as it is caught in the marble basin. This bed room is agreeably warm even in winter, for it is flooded with an abundance of sunshine.”

391. The Baths: the Rear Apartments: the Riding Course.—“To the last named room adjoins the calidarium of the baths, and on a cloudy day we can turn in the steam heat to take the place of the warm sun. Next comes an ample and cheerful undressing room for the bath, from which you pass into the cool frigidarium containing a large and shady swimming pool. Adjoining this cold bath is the mild tepidarium, for the sun shines upon it lavishly, although not so much as upon the hot bath which is built further out. Above the adjacent dressing room is a ball court where various kinds of exercise can be taken and several games can go on at once; and close to this are more bed-chambers all commanding enchanting views over the gardens, meadows, vineyards and mountains.

“Such is the front part of the villa. In the rear and to the sides are still other dining rooms and bedrooms; especially there are certain that are so far underground as to be perfectly cool even in the hottest weather. There is also an elaborate set of quarters for the servants.

“However, the most delightful part of the entire establishment is perhaps the riding course. Around its borders are plane trees covered with ivy, which creeps along the trunks and branches and spreading across to the neighboring trees joins the whole line together. Between the plane trees are set box-shrubs, and on the further side of the shrubs is a ring of laurels which mingle their shade with that of the plane.

“At the farther end, the straight boundary of the riding course is curved into a semi-circular form which quite changes its appearance. It is inclosed with cypress-trees, casting in places a dark and gloomy shade, though spots are left quite open to the sunshine; in these last bloom roses, and the warmth of the sun gives a delightful change from the cool of the shadows. All around these avenues run paths lined with other box-shrubs; and here and there are more of the box trimmed into a great variety of patterns, some being cut into letters forming my name, as being the owner, or that of the gardener.”

392. The Fountains and Luxurious Pavilions in the Gardens.—“At the upper end of this hippodrome is a couch of white marble covered with a vine. Jets of water gush from under the couch through small pipes, and look as if they were forced out by the weight of the persons reclining on the pillows, while the water rushes down into a graceful marble basin with an underground outlet so it fills but never overflows. When I dine at this spot the heavier dishes and plates are set by the side of the basin, but the lighter ones, made in the shape of little boats and birds, float on the surface and turn round and round.

“Directly opposite this couch is a sleeping pavilion. It is formed of glistening marble, and through the projecting folding doors you can pass at once among the foliage, while from the windows you look upon the same green picture. Within is a bed, and the shade is so dense that little light can enter, while a wonderfully luxuriant vine has climbed upon the roof and covers the whole building. You can fancy you are in a grove as you lie here, only you do not feel the rain as you do amid the trees. Here, too, a fountain rises, then immediately loses itself underground. There are a number of marble chairs placed up and down, very restful if you do not wish the bed. Near these chairs, yet again, there are little fountains, and throughout the whole riding course you can hear the murmur of tiny streams carried through pipes which run wherever you please to direct them.”

393. Life of Sensuous Luxury at Such a Villa. Contrast in Human Conditions under the Roman Régime.—“Besides the beauties herein described one has perfect comfort, repose, and freedom from anxiety at such a villa. I need not don the heavy toga; no neighbor ever calls to drag me out; everything is placid and quiet; and this peace adds to the healthfulness of the place, giving it, so to speak, a purer sky and a more limpid air. Here I enjoy better health both in mind and body than anywhere else, for I exercise the former by study, and the latter by hunting. May the gods preserve to me this place in all its beauty!”

If life can consist of nothing more than a series of delightful sensations, the eye to be pleased by entrancing vistas of marble, greenery, or wooded hills, the ear by the soft murmur of musical fountains, and every creature want ministered unto by scores of highly trained menials, whose sole object in life seems to be to anticipate their masters’ needs,—what greater fortune, one may ask, can any age provide than to be possessor of such a villa, with the wealth and rank such possession must imply? Happy its former, happy its present owner! Is it forbidden to regret that one’s lot is not cast for a lifetime in Italy in these prosperous days of the Empire?

Yet tarry—even while as Calvus’s guests we take our seats upon his marble benches beside the musical fountain under the whispering cypresses, and before we can converse amiably with the senator, perhaps upon the Stoic theory of “The Highest Good” there are sounds discordant—the clink of fetters, the snap of whips, the curses of drivers, the groans of human cattle.

Along the road concealed by the shrubbery, is passing the slave coffle, the gang of “speaking tools” on its way from the underground dungeon (ergastulum) upon the great farm attached to the villa, to the daily toil in the fields beneath a broiling sun. The refined luxury of the fortunate few is purchased by the squalor, the ignorance, and often by the lifelong misery of the brutalized many.