Churches.—S. Peter's, S. John Lateran, Sta. Maria Maggiore, S. Lorenzo fuori Mura, S. Paoli fuori Mura, S. Agnese fuori Mura, Ara Cœli, S. Clemente, S. Pietro in Montorio, S. Pietro in Vincoli, Sta. Sabina, Sta. Prassede and Sta. Pudentiana, S. Gregorio, S. Stefano Rotondo, Sta. Maria sopra Minerva, Sta. Maria del Popolo.
Palaces.—Vatican, Capitol, Borghese, Barberini (and, if possible, Corsini, Colonna, Sciarra, Rospigliosi, and Spada).
Villas.—Albani, Doria, Borghese, Wolkonski, and, though less important, Ludovisi.
Ruins.—Palace of the Cæsars, Temples in Forum, Coliseum, and, if possible, the ruins in the Ghetto, and the Baths of Caracalla.
It is desirable for the traveller who is pressed for time to apply at once to his Banker for orders for any of the villas for which they are necessary. The following scheme will give a good general idea of Rome and its neighbourhood in a few days. The sights printed in italics can only be seen on the days to which they are ascribed:—
Monday.—General view of Capitol, Gallery of Sculpture, Ara Cœli, General view of Forum, Coliseum, St. John Lateran (with cloisters), and drive out to the Via Latina and the aqueducts at Tavolato.
Tuesday.—Morning: St. Peter's and the Vatican Stanze. Afternoon: Villa Albani, St. Agnese, and drive to the Ponte Nomentana.
Wednesday.—Go to Tivoli (the Cascades, Cascatelle, and Villa d'Este).
Thursday.—Morning: Palace of the Cæsars. Afternoon: drive on the Via Appia as far as Torre Mezzo Strada; in returning, see the Baths of Caracalla.
Friday.—Morning: Palazzo Borghese, Palazzo Spada, The Ghetto, The Temple of Vesta, cross the Ponte Rotto to Sta. Cecilia; and end in the afternoon at St. Pietro in Montorio and the Villa Doria (or on Monday).
Saturday.—Frascati and Albano. Drive to Frascati early, take donkeys, by Rocca di Papa to Mte. Cavo; take luncheon at the Temple, and return by Palazzuolo and the upper and lower Galleries to Albano, whither the carriage should be sent on to await you at the Hotel de Russie. Drive back to Rome in the evening.
Sunday.—Morning: Sta. Maria del Popolo on way to English Church. Afternoon: St. Peter's again; drive to Monte Mario (Villa Mellini), or in the Villa Borghese, and end with the Pincio.
2d Monday.—Morning: Sta. Prassede, Sta. Pudentiana, Sta. Maria Maggiore. Afternoon: Sta. Sabina, Priorato Garden, English Cemetery, S. Paolo, and the Tre Fontane.
2d Tuesday.—Morning: Vatican Sculptures. Afternoon: S. Gregorio, S. Stefano Rotondo, S. Clemente, S. Pietro in Vincoli, Sta. Maria degli Angeli, S. Lorenzo fuori Mura, and drive out to the Torre dei Schiavi, returning by the Porta Maggiore.
2d Wednesday.—Morning: Palazzo Barberini, Palazzo Rospigliosi, (and on Saturdays) Vatican Pictures. Afternoon: Forum in detail, SS. Cosmo and Damian, and ascend the Coliseum.
The following list may be useful as a guide to some of the best subjects for artists who wish to draw at Rome, and have not much time to search for themselves:—
Morning Light:
Temple of Vesta with the fountain.
Arch of Constantine from the Coliseum (early).
Coliseum from behind Sta. Francesca Romana (early).
Temples in the Forum from the School of Xanthus.
View from the Garden of the Rupe Tarpeia.
In the Garden of S. Giovanni e Paolo.
In the Garden of S. Buonaventura.
In the Garden of the S. Bartolomeo in Isola.
In the Garden of S. Onofrio.
On the Tiber from Poussin's Walk.
From the door of the Villa Medici.
At S. Cosimato.
At the back entrance of Ara Cœli.
At the Portico of Octavia.
Looking to the Arch of Titus up the Via Sacra.
In the Cloister of the Lateran.
In the Cloister of the Certosa.
Near the Temple of Bacchus.
On the Via Appia, beyond Cecilia Metella.
Torre Mezza Strada on the Via Appia.
Torre Nomentana, looking to the mountains.
Ponte Nomentana, looking to the Mons Sacer.
Torre dei Schiavi, looking towards Tivoli.
Aqueducts at Tavolato.
Evening Light:
From St. John Lateran.
From the Ponte Rotto.
From the Terrace of the Villa Doria (St. Peter's).
Palace of the Cæsars—Roman side—looking to Sta. Balbina.
Palace of the Cæsars—French side—looking to the Coliseum.
Apse of S. Giovanni e Paolo.
Near the Navicella.
Garden of the Villa Mattei.
Garden of the Villa Wolkonski.
Garden of the Priorato.
Porta S. Lorenzo.
Torre dei Schiavi, looking towards Rome.
Via Latina, looking towards the Aqueducts.
Via Latina, looking towards Rome.
The months of November and December are the best for drawing. The colouring is then magnificent; it is enhanced by the tints of the decaying vegetation, and the shadows are strong and clear. January is generally cold for sitting out, and February wet; and before the end of March the vegetation is often so far advanced that the Alban Hills, which have retained glorious sapphire and amethyst tints all winter, change into commonplace green English downs; while the Campagna, from the crimson and gold of its dying thistles and fenochii, becomes a lovely green plain waving with flowers.
Foreigners are much too apt to follow the native custom of driving constantly in the Villa Borghese, the Villa Doria, and on the Pincio, and getting out to walk there during their drives. For those who do not care always to see the human world, a delightful variety of drives can be found; and it is a most agreeable plan for invalids, without carriages of their own, to take a "course to the Parco di San Gregorio," or to the sunny avenues near the Lateran, and walk there instead of on the Pincio. A carriage for the return may almost always be found in the Forum or at the Lateran.
The Piazza del Popolo—Obelisk—Sta. Maria del Popolo—(The Pincio—Villa Medici—Trinità de' Monti) (Via Babuino—Via Margutta—Piazza di Spagna—Propaganda) (Via Ripetta—SS. Rocco e Martino—S. Girolamo degli Schiavoni)—S. Giacomo degli Incurabili—Via Vittoria—Mausoleum of Augustus—S. Carlo in Corso—Via Condotti—Palazzo Borghese—Palazzo Ruspoli—S. Lorenzo in Lucina—S. Sylvestro in Capite—S. Andrea delle Fratte—Palazzo Chigi—Piazza Colonna—Palace and Obelisk of Monte-Citorio—Temple of Neptune—Fountain of Trevi—Palazzo Poli—Palazzo Sciarra—The Caravita—S. Ignazio—S. Marcello—Sta. Maria in Via Lata—Palazzo Doria Pamfili—Palazzo Salviati—Palazzo Odescalchi—Palazzo Colonna—Church of SS. Apostoli—Palazzo Savorelli—Palazzo Buonaparte—Palazzo di Venezia—Palazzo Torlonia—Ripresa dei Barberi—S. Marco—Church of Il Gesu—Palazzo Altieri.
THE first object of every traveller will naturally be to reach the Capitol, and look down thence upon ancient Rome; but as he will go down to the Corso to do this, and must daily pass most of its surrounding buildings, we will first speak of those objects which will, ere long, become the most familiar.
A stranger's first lesson in Roman geography should be learnt standing in the Piazza del Popolo, whence three streets branch off—the Corso, in the centre, leading towards the Capitol, beyond which lies ancient Rome; the Babuino, on the left, leading to the Piazza di Spagna and the English quarter; the Ripetta, on the right, leading to the Castle of St. Angelo and St. Peter's. The scene is one well known from pictures and engravings. The space between the streets is occupied by twin churches, erected by Cardinal Gastaldi.
"Les deux églises élevées au Place du Peuple par le Cardinal Gastaldi à l'entrée du Corso, sont d'un effet médiocre. Comment un cardinal n'a-t-il pas senti qu'il ne faut pas élever une église pour faire pendant à quelque chose? C'est ravaler la majesté divine." Stendhal, i. 172.
It is in the church on the left that sermons are preached every winter on Sunday afternoons by some of the best Roman Catholic controversialists, just at the right moment for catching the Protestant congregations as they emerge from their chapels outside the Porta del Popolo.
These churches are believed to occupy the site of the magnificent tomb of Sylla, who died at Puteoli B.C. 82, but was honoured at Rome with a public funeral, at which the patrician ladies burnt masses of incense and perfumes on his funeral pyre.
The Obelisk of the Piazza del Popolo was placed on this site by Sixtus V. in 1589, but was originally brought to Rome and erected in honour of Apollo by the Emperor Augustus.
"Apollo was the patron of the spot which had given a name to the great victory of Actium; Apollo himself, it was proclaimed, had fought for Rome and for Octavius on that auspicious day; the same Apollo, the Sun-god, had shuddered in his bright career at the murder of the Dictator, and terrified the nations by the eclipse of his divine countenance." ... Therefore, "besides building a temple to Apollo on the Palatine hill, the Emperor Augustus sought to honour him by transplanting to the Circus Maximus, the sports of which were under his special protection, an obelisk from Heliopolis, in Egypt. This flame-shaped column was a symbol of the sun, and originally bore a blazing orb upon its summit. It is interesting to trace an intelligible motive for the first introduction into Europe of these grotesque and unsightly monuments of eastern superstition."—Merivale, Hist. of the Romans.
"This red granite obelisk, oldest of things, even in Rome, rises in the centre of the piazza, with a four-fold fountain at its base. All Roman works and ruins (whether of the empire, the far-off republic, or the still more distant kings) assume a transient, visionary, and impalpable character, when we think that this indestructible monument supplied one of the recollections which Moses and the Israelites bore from Egypt into the desert. Perchance, on beholding the cloudy pillar and fiery column, they whispered awe-stricken to one another, 'In its shape it is like that old obelisk which we and our fathers have so often seen on the borders of the Nile.' And now that very obelisk, with hardly a trace of decay upon it, is the first thing that the modern traveller sees after entering the Flaminian Gate."—Hawthorne's Transformation.
It was on the left of the Piazza, at the foot of what was even then called "the Hill of Gardens," that Nero was buried (A.D. 68).
"When Nero was dead, his nurse Eclaga, with Alexandra, and Acte the famous concubine, having wrapped his remains in rich white stuff, embroidered with gold, deposited them in the Domitian monument, which is seen in the Campus-Martius under the Hill of Gardens. The tomb was of porphyry, having an altar of Luna marble, surrounded by a balustrade of Thasos marble."—Suetonius.
Church tradition tells that from the tomb of Nero afterwards grew a gigantic walnut-tree, which became the resort of innumerable crows,—so numerous as to become quite a pest to the neighbourhood. In the eleventh century, Pope Paschal II. dreamt that these crows were demons, and that the Blessed Virgin commanded him to cut down and burn the tree ("albero malnato"), and build a sanctuary to her honour in its place. A church was then built by means of a collection amongst the common people; hence the name which it still retains of "St. Mary of the People."
Sta. Maria del Popolo was rebuilt by Bacio Pintelli for Sixtus IV. in 1480, and very richly adorned. It was modernized by Bernini for Alexander VII. (Fabio Chigi, 1655-67), of whom it was the family burial-place, but it still retains many fragments of beautiful fifteenth century work (the principal door of the nave is a fine example of this); and its interior is a perfect museum of sculpture and art.
Entering the church by the west door, and following the right aisle, the first chapel (Venuti, formerly Della Rovere[3]) is adorned with exquisite paintings by Pinturicchio. Over the altar is the Nativity—one of the most beautiful frescoes in the city; in the lunettes are scenes from the life of St. Jerome. Cardinal Christoforo della Rovere, who built this chapel and dedicated it to "the Virgin and St. Jerome," is buried on the left, in a grand fifteenth century tomb; on the right is the monument of Cardinal di Castro. Both of these tombs and many others in this church have interesting and greatly varied lunettes of the Virgin and Child.
The second chapel, of the Cibo family, rich in pillars of nero-antico and jasper, has an altarpiece representing the Assumption of the Virgin, by Carlo Maratta. In the cupola is the Almighty, surrounded by the heavenly host.[4]
The third chapel is also painted by Pinturicchio. Over the altar, the Madonna and four saints; above, God the Father, surrounded by angels. In the other lunettes, scenes in the life of the Virgin;—that of the Virgin studying in the Temple, a very rare subject, is especially beautiful. In a frieze round the lower part of the wall, a series of martyrdoms in grisaille. On the right is the tomb of Giovanni della Rovere, ob. 1483. On the left is a fine sleeping bronze figure of a bishop, unknown.
The fourth chapel has a fine fifteenth century altar-relief of St. Catherine between St. Anthony of Padua and St. Vincent. On the right is the tomb of Marc-Antonio Albertoni, ob. 1485; on the left, that of Cardinal Costa, of Lisbon, ob. 1508, erected in his lifetime. In this tomb is an especially beautiful lunette of the Virgin adored by Angels.
Entering the right transept, on the right is the tomb of Cardinal Podocanthorus of Cyprus, a very fine specimen of fifteenth century work. A door near this leads into a cloister, where is preserved, over a door, the Gothic altar-piece of the church of Sixtus IV, representing the Coronation of the Virgin, and two fine tombs—Archbishop Rocca, ob. 1482, and Bishop Gomiel.
The choir (shown when there is no service) has a ceiling by Pinturicchio. In the centre, the Virgin and Saviour, surrounded by the Evangelists and Sibyls; in the corners, the Fathers of the Church—Gregory, Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine. Beneath are the tombs of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, and Cardinal Girolamo Basso, nephews of Sixtus IV. (Francesco della Rovere), beautiful works of Andrea di Sansovino. These tombs were erected at the expense of Julius II., himself a Della Rovere, who also gave the windows, painted by Claude and Guillaume de Marseilles, the only good specimens of stained glass in Rome.
The high-altar is surmounted by a miraculous image of the Virgin, inscribed, "In honorificentia populi nostri," which was placed in this church by Gregory IX., and which, having been "successfully invoked" by Gregory XIII., in the great plague of 1578, has ever since been annually adored by the pope of the period, who prostrates himself before it upon the 8th of September. The chapel on the left of this has an Assumption, by Annibale Caracci.
In the left transept is the tomb of Cardinal Bernardino Lonati, with a fine fifteenth century relief of the Resurrection.
Returning by the left aisle, the last chapel but one is that of the Chigi family, in which the famous banker, Agostino Chigi (who built the Farnesina) is buried, and in which Raphael is represented at once as a painter, a sculptor, and an architect. He planned the chapel itself; he drew the strange design of the Mosaic on the ceiling (carried out by Aloisio della Pace), which represents an extraordinary mixture of Paganism and Christianity, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn (as the planets), conducted by angels, being represented with and surrounding Jehovah; and he modelled the beautiful statue of Jonah seated on the whale, which was sculptured in the marble by Lorenzetto. The same artist sculptured the figure of Elijah,—those of Daniel and Habakkuk being by Bernini. The altarpiece, representing the Nativity of the Virgin, is a fine work of Sebastian del Piombo. On the pier adjoining this chapel is the strange monument by Posi (1771) of a Princess Odescalchi Chigi, who died in childbirth, at the age of twenty, erected by her husband, who describes himself, "In solitudine et luctu superstes."
The last chapel contains two fine fifteenth century ciboria, and the tomb of Cardinal Antonio Pallavicini, 1507.
On the left of the principal entrance is the remarkable monument of Gio. Batt. Gislenus, the companion and friend of Casimir I. of Poland (ob. 1670). At the top is his portrait while living, inscribed, "Neque hic vivus"; then a medallion of a chrysalis, "In nidulo meo moriar"; opposite to which is a medallion of a butterfly emerging, "Ut Phœnix multiplicabo dies": below is a hideous skeleton of giallo antico in a white marble winding-sheet, "Neque hic mortuus."
Martin Luther "often spoke of death as the Christian's true birth, and this life as but a growing into the chrysalis-shell in which the spirit lives till its being is developed, and it bursts the shell, casts off the web, struggles into life, spreads its wings, and soars up to God."
The Augustine Convent adjoining this church was the residence of Luther while he was in Rome. Here he celebrated mass immediately on his arrival, after he had prostrated himself upon the earth, saying, "Hail sacred Rome! thrice sacred for the blood of the martyrs shed here!" Here, also, he celebrated mass for the last time before he departed from Rome to become the most terrible of her enemies.
"Lui pauvre écolier, élevé si durement, qui souvent, pendant son enfance, n'avait pour oreiller qu'une dalle froide, il passe devant des temples tout de marbre, devant des colonnes d'albâtre, des gigantesques obélisques de granite, des fontaines jaillissantes, des villas fraîches et embellies de jardins, de fleurs, de cascades et de grottes. Veut-il prier? il entre dans une église qui lui semble un monde véritable, où les diamants scintillent sur l'autel, l'or aux soffites, le marbre aux colonnes, la mosaïque aux chapelles, au lieu d'un de ces temples rustiques qui n'ont dans sa patrie pour tout ornement que quelques roses qu'une main pieuse va déposer sur l'autel le jour du dimanche. Est-il fatigué de la route? il trouve sur son chemin, non plus un modeste banc de bois, mais un siège d'albâtre antique récemment déterré. Cherche-t-il une sainte image? il n'aperçoit que des fantaisies païennes, des divinités olympiques, Apollon, Vénus, Mars, Jupiter, auxquelles travaillent mille mains de sculpteurs. De toutes ces merveilles, il ne comprit rien, il ne vit rien. Aucun rayon de la couronne de Raphaël, de Michel-Ange, n'éblouit ses regards; il resta froid et muet devant tous les trésors de peinture et de sculpture rassemblés dans les églises; son oreille fut fermée aux chants du Dante, que le peuple répétait autour de lui. Il était entré à Rome en pèlerin, il en sort comme Coriolan, et s'écrie avec Bembo: 'Adieu, Rome, que doit fuir quiconque veut vivre saintement! Adieu, ville où tout est permis, excepté d'être homme de bien.'"—Audin, Histoire de Luther, c. ii.
It was in front of this church that the cardinals and magnates of Rome met to receive the apostate Christina of Sweden upon her entrance into the city.
On the left side of the piazza rise the terraces of the Pincio, adorned with rostral-columns, statues, and marble bas-reliefs, interspersed with cypresses and pines. A winding road, lined with mimosas and other flowering shrubs, leads to the upper platform, now laid out in public drives and gardens, but, till twenty years ago, a deserted waste, where the ghost of Nero was believed to wander in the middle ages.
Hence the Eternal City is seen spread at our feet, and beyond it the wide-spreading Campagna, till a silver line marks the sea melting into the horizon beyond Ostia. All these churches and tall palace roofs become more than mere names in the course of the winter, but at first all is bewilderment Two great buildings alone arrest the attention:
"Westward, beyond the Tiber, is the Castle of St. Angelo, the immense tomb of a pagan emperor with the archangel on its summit.... Still further off, a mighty pile of buildings, surmounted by a vast dome, which all of us have shaped and swelled outward, like a huge bubble, to the utmost scope of our imaginations, long before we see it floating over the worship of the city. At any nearer view the grandeur of St. Peter's hides itself behind the immensity of its separate parts, so that we only see the front, only the sides, only the pillared length and loftiness of the portico, and not the mighty whole. But at this distance the entire outline of the world's cathedral, as well as that of the palace of the world's chief priest, is taken in at once. In such remoteness, moreover, the imagination is not debarred from rendering its assistance, even while we have the reality before our eyes, and helping the weakness of human sense to do justice to so grand an object. It requires both faith and fancy to enable us to feel, what is nevertheless so true, that yonder, in front of the purple outline of the hills, is the grandest edifice ever built by man, painted against God's loveliest sky."—Hawthorne.
Here the band plays under the great palm-tree every afternoon except Friday. On Sunday afternoons the Pincio is in what Miss Thackeray describes as "a fashionable halo of sunset and pink parasols"—when immense crowds collect, showing every phase of Roman life; and disperse again as the Ave-Maria bell rings from the churches, either to descend into the city, or to hear benediction sung by the nuns in the Trinità de' Monti.
"When the fashionable hour of rendezvous arrives, the same spot, which a few minutes before was immersed in silence and solitude, changes as it were with the rapidity of a scene in a pantomime to an animated panorama. The scene is rendered not a little ludicrous by the miniature representation of the Ring in Hyde Park in a small compass. An entire revolution of the carriage-drive is performed in the short period of three minutes as near as may be, and the perpetual occurrence of the same physiognomies and the same carriages trotting round and round for two successive hours, necessarily reminds one of the proceedings of a country fair, and children whirling in a roundabout."—Sir G. Head's 'Tour in Rome.'
"The Pincian Hill is the favourite promenade of the Roman aristocracy. At the present day, however, like most other Roman possessions, it belongs less to the native inhabitants than to the barbarians from Gaul, Great Britain, and beyond the sea, who have established a peaceful usurpation over all that is enjoyable or memorable in the Eternal City. These foreign guests are indeed ungrateful, if they do not breathe a prayer for Pope Clement, or whatever Holy Father it may have been, who levelled the summit of the mount so skilfully, and bounded it with the parapet of the city wall; who laid out those broad walks and drives, and overhung them with the shade of many kinds of tree; who scattered the flowers of all seasons, and of every clime, abundantly over those smooth, central lawns; who scooped out hollows in fit places, and setting great basons of marble in them, caused ever-gushing fountains to fill them to the brim; who reared up the immemorial obelisk out of the soil that had long hidden it; who placed pedestals along the borders of the avenues, and covered them with busts of that multitude of worthies,—statesmen, heroes, artists, men of letters and of song,—whom the whole world claims as its chief ornaments, though Italy has produced them all. In a word, the Pincian garden is one of the things that reconcile the stranger (since he fully appreciates the enjoyment, and feels nothing of the cost,) to the rule of an irresponsible dynasty of Holy Fathers, who seem to have arrived at making life as agreeable an affair as it can well be.
"In this pleasant spot the red-trousered French soldiers are always to be seen; bearded and grizzled veterans, perhaps, with medals of Algiers or the Crimea on their breasts. To them is assigned the peaceful duty of seeing that children do not trample on the flower-beds, nor any youthful lover rifle them of their fragrant blossoms to stick in his beloved one's hair. Here sits (drooping upon some marble bench, in the treacherous sunshine,) the consumptive girl, whose friends have brought her, for a cure, into a climate that instils poison into its very purest breath. Here, all day, come nursery maids, burdened with rosy English babies, or guiding the footsteps of little travellers from the far western world. Here, in the sunny afternoon, roll and rumble all kinds of carriages, from the Cardinal's old-fashioned and gorgeous purple carriage to the gay barouche of modern date. Here horsemen gallop on thorough-bred steeds. Here, in short, all the transitory population of Rome, the world's great watering-place, rides, drives, or promenades! Here are beautiful sunsets; and here, whichever way you turn your eyes, are scenes as well worth gazing at, both in themselves and for their historical interest, as any that the sun ever rose and set upon. Here, too, on certain afternoons in the week, a French military band flings out rich music over the poor old city, floating her with strains as loud as those of her own echoless triumphs."—Hawthorne.
The garden of the Pincio is very small, but beautifully laid out. At a crossroads is placed an Obelisk, brought from Egypt, and which the late discoveries in hieroglyphics show to have been erected there, in the joint names of Hadrian and his empress Sabina, to their beloved Antinous, who was drowned in the Nile A.D. 131.
From the furthest angle of the garden we look down upon the strange fragment of wall known as the Muro-Torto.
"Le Muro-Torto offre un souvenir curieux. On nomme ainsi un pan de muraille qui, avant de faire partie du rempart d'Honorius, avait servi à soutenir la terrasse du jardin du Domitius, et qui, du temps de Bélisaire, était déjà incliné comme il l'est aujourd'hui. Procope racconte que Bélisaire voulait le rebâtir, mais que les Romains l'en empêchèrent, affirmant que ce point n'était pas exposé, parce que Saint Pierre avait promis de le défendre. Procope ajoute: 'Personne n'a osé réparer ce mur, et il reste encore dans le même état.' Nous pouvons en dire autant que Procope, et le mur, détaché de la colline à laquelle il s'appuyait, reste encore incliné et semble près de tomber. Ce détail du siége de Rome est confirmé par l'aspect singulier du Muro-Torto, qui semble toujours près de tomber, et subsiste dans le même état depuis quatorze siècles, comme s'il était soutenu miraculeusement par la main de Saint Pierre. On ne saurait guère trouver pour l'autorité temporel des papes, un meilleur symbole."—Ampère, Emp. ii. 397.
"At the furthest point of the Pincio, you look down from the parapet upon the Muro-Torto, a massive fragment of the oldest Roman wall, which juts over, as if ready to tumble down by its own weight, yet seems still the most indestructible piece of work that men's hands ever piled together. In the blue distance rise Soracte, and other heights, which have gleamed afar, to our imagination, but look scarcely real to our bodily eyes, because, being dreamed about so much, they have taken the aerial tints which belong only to a dream. These, nevertheless, are the solid framework of hills that shut in Rome, and its broad surrounding Campagna; no land of dreams, but the broadest page of history, crowded so full with memorable events, that one obliterates another, as if Time had crossed and recrossed his own records till they grew illegible."—Hawthorne.
In early imperial times the site of the Pincio garden was occupied by the famous villa of Lucullus, who had gained his enormous wealth as general of the Roman armies in Asia.
"The life of Lucullus was like an ancient comedy, where first we see great actions, both political and military, and afterwards feasts, debauches, races by torchlight, and every kind of frivolous amusement. For among frivolous amusements, I cannot but reckon his sumptuous villas, walks, and baths; and still more so the paintings, statues, and other works of art which he collected at immense expense, idly squandering away upon them the vast fortune he amassed in the wars. Insomuch that now, when luxury is so much advanced, the gardens of Lucullus rank with those of the kings, and are esteemed the most magnificent even of these."—Plutarch.
Here, in his Pincian villa, Lucullus gave his celebrated feast to Cicero and Pompey, merely mentioning to a slave beforehand that he should sup in the hall of Apollo, which was understood as a command to prepare all that was most sumptuous.
After Lucullus—the beautiful Pincian villa belonged to Valerius Asiaticus, and in the reign of Claudius was coveted by his fifth wife, Messalina. She suborned Silius, her son's tutor, to accuse him of a licentious life, and of corrupting the army. Being condemned to death, "Asiaticus declined the counsel of his friends to starve himself, a course which might leave an interval for the chance of pardon; and after the lofty fashion of the ancient Romans, bathed, perfumed, and supped magnificently, and then opened his veins, and let himself bleed to death. Before dying he inspected the pyre prepared for him in his own gardens, and ordered it to be removed to another spot, that an umbrageous plantation which overhung it might not be injured by the flames."
As soon as she heard of his death, Messalina took possession of the villa, and held high revel there with her numerous lovers, with the most favoured of whom, Silius, she had actually gone through the religious rites of marriage in the lifetime of the emperor, who was absent at Ostia. But a conspiracy among the freedmen of the royal household informed the emperor of what was taking place, and at last even Claudius was aroused to a sense of her enormities.
"In her suburban palace, Messalina was abandoning herself to voluptuous transports. The season was mid-autumn, the vintage was in full progress; the wine-press was groaning; the ruddy juice was streaming; women girt with scanty fawnskins danced as drunken Bacchanals around her: while she herself, with her hair loose and disordered, brandished the thyrsus in the midst, and Silius by her side, buskined and crowned with ivy, tossed his head to the flaunting strains of Silenus and the Satyrs. Vettius, one, it seems, of the wanton's less fortunate paramours, attended the ceremony, and climbed in merriment a lofty tree in the garden. When asked what he saw, he replied, 'an awful storm from Ostia'; and whether there was actually such an appearance, or whether the words were spoken at random, they were accepted afterwards as an omen of the catastrophe which quickly followed.
"For now in the midst of these wanton orgies the rumour quickly spread, and swiftly messengers arrived to confirm it, that Claudius knew it all, that Claudius was on his way to Rome, and was coming in anger and vengeance. The lovers part: Silius for the forum and the tribunals; Messalina for the shade of her gardens on the Pincio, the price of the blood of the murdered Asiaticus." Once the empress attempted to go forth to meet Claudius, taking her children with her, and accompanied by Vibidia, the eldest of the vestal virgins, whom she persuaded to intercede for her, but her enemies prevented her gaining access to her husband; Vibidia was satisfied for the moment by vague promises of a later hearing; and upon the arrival of Claudius in Rome, Silius and the other principal lovers of the empress were put to death. "Still Messalina hoped. She had withdrawn again to the gardens of Lucullus, and was there engaged in composing addresses of supplication to her husband, in which her pride and long-accustomed insolence still faintly struggled into her fears. The emperor still paltered with the treason. He had retired to his palace; he had bathed, anointed, and lain down to supper; and, warmed with wine and generous cheer, he had actually despatched a message to the poor creature, as he called her, bidding her come the next day, and plead her cause before him. But her enemy Narcissus, knowing how easy might be the passage from compassion to love, glided from the chamber, and boldly ordered a tribune and some centurions to go and slay his victim. 'Such,' he said, 'was the emperor's command'; and his word was obeyed without hesitation. Under the direction of the freedman Euodus, the armed men sought the outcast in her gardens, where she lay prostrate on the ground, by the side of her mother Lepida. While their fortunes flourished, dissensions had existed between the two; but now, in her last distress, the mother had refused to desert her child, and only strove to nerve her resolution to a voluntary death. 'Life,' she urged, 'is over; nought remains but to look for a decent exit from it.' But the soul of the reprobate was corrupted by her vices; she retained no sense of honour; she continued to weep and groan as if hope still existed; when suddenly the doors were burst open, the tribune and his swordsmen appeared before her, and Euodus assailed her, dumb-stricken as she lay, with contumelious and brutal reproaches. Roused at last to the consciousness of her desperate condition, she took a weapon from one of the men's hands and pressed it trembling against her throat and bosom. Still she wanted resolution to give the thrust, and it was by a blow of the tribune's falchion that the horrid deed was finally accomplished. The death of Asiaticus was avenged on the very spot; the hot blood of the wanton smoked on the pavement of his gardens, and stained with a deeper hue the variegated marbles of Lucullus."—Merivale, Hist. of the Romans under the Empire.
From the garden of the Pincio a terraced road (beneath which are the long-closed catacombs of St. Felix) leads to the Villa Medici, built for Cardinal Ricci da Montepulciano by Annibale Lippi in 1540. Shortly afterwards it passed into the hands of the Medici family, and was greatly enlarged by Cardinal Alessandro de Medici, afterwards Leo XI. In 1801 the Academy for French Art-Students, founded by Louis XIV., was established here. The villa contains a fine collection of casts, open every day except Sunday.
Behind the villa is a beautiful Garden (which can be visited on application to the porter). The terrace, which looks down upon the Villa Borghese, is bordered by ancient sarcophagi, and has a colossal statue of Rome. The garden side of the villa has sometimes been ascribed to Michael Angelo.
"La plus grande coquetterie de la maison, c'est la façade postérieure. Elle tient son rang parmi les chefs-d'œuvre de la Renaissance. On dirait que l'architecte a épuisé une mine de bas-reliefs grecs et romains pour en tapisser son palais. Le jardin est de la même époque: il date du temps où l'aristocratie romaine professait le plus profond dédain pour les fleurs. On n'y voit que des massifs de verdure, alignés avec un soin scrupuleux. Six pelouses, entourées de haies à hauteur d'appui, s'étendent devant la villa et laissent courir la vue jusqu'au mont Soracte, qui ferme l'horizon. A gauche, quatre fois quatre carrés de gazon s'encadrent dans de hautes murailles de lauriers, de buis gigantesques et de chênes verts. Les murailles se rejoignent au-dessus des allées et les enveloppent d'une ombre fraîche et mystérieuse. A droite, une terrasse d'une style noble encadre un bois de chênes verts, tordus et eventrés par le temps. J'y vais quelquefois travailler à l'ombre; et le merle rivalise avec le rossignol au-dessus de ma tête, comme un beau chantre de village peut rivaliser avec Mario ou Roger. Un peu plus loin, une vigne toute rustique s'étend jusqu'à la porte Pinciana, où Belisaire a mendié, dit-on. Les jardins petits et grands sont semés de statues, d'Hermes, et de marbres de toute sorte. L'eau coule dans des sarcophages antiques ou jaillit dans des vasques de marbre: le marbre et l'eau sont les deux luxes de Rome."—About, Rome Contemporaine.
"The grounds of the Villa Medici are laid out in the old fashion of straight paths, with borders of box, which form hedges of great height and density, and are shorn and trimmed to the evenness of a wall of stone, at the top and sides. There are green alleys, with long vistas, overshadowed by ilex-trees; and at each intersection of the paths the visitor finds seats of lichen-covered stone to repose upon, and marble statues that look forlornly at him, regretful of their lost noses. In the more open portions of the garden, before the sculptured front of the villa, you see fountains and flower-beds; and, in their season, a profusion of roses, from which the genial sun of Italy distils a fragrance, to be scattered abroad by the no less genial breeze."—Hawthorne.
A second door will admit to the higher terrace of the Boschetto; a tiny wood of ancient ilexes, from which a steep flight of steps leads to the "Belvidere," whence there is a beautiful view.
"They asked the porter for the key of the Bosco, which was given, and they entered a grove of ilexes, whose gloomy shade effectually shut out the radiant sunshine that still illuminated the western sky. They then ascended a long and exceedingly steep flight of steps, leading up to a high mound covered with ilexes.
"Here both stood still, side by side, gazing silently on the city, where dome and bell-tower stood out against a sky of gold; the desolate Monte Mario and its stone pines rising dark to the right. Behind, close at hand, were sombre ilex woods, amid which rose here and there the spire of a cypress or a ruined arch, and on the highest point, the white Villa Ludovisi; beyond, stretched the Campagna, girdled by hills melting into light under the evening sky."—Mademoiselle Mori.
From the door of the Villa Medici is the scene familiar to artists, of a fountain shaded by ilexes, which frame a distant view of St Peter's.
"Je vois (de la Villa Medici) les quatre cinquièmes de la ville; je compte les sept collines, je parcours les rues régulières qui s'étendent entre le cours et la place d'Espagne, je fais le d'enombrement des palais, des églises, des dômes, et des clochers; je m'égare dans le Ghetto et dans la Trastévère. Je ne vois pas des ruines autant que j'en voudrais: elles sont ramassées là-bas, sur ma gauche, aux environs du Forum. Cependant nous avons tout près de nous la colonne Antonine et la mausolée d'Adrien. La vue est fermée agréablement par les pins de la villa Pamphili, qui reunissent leurs larges parasols et font comme une table à mille pieds pour un repas de géants. L'horizon fuit à gauche à des distances infinies; la plaine est nue, onduleuse et bleue comme la mer. Mais si je vous mettais en présence d'un spectacle si étendu et si divers, en seul objet attirerait vos regards, un seul frapperait votre attention: vous n'auriez des yeux que pour Saint Pierre. Son dôme est moitié dans la ville, moitié dans la ciel. Quand j'ouvre ma fenêtre, vers cinq heures du matin, je vois Rome noyée dans les brouillards de la fièvre: seul, le dôme de Saint-Pierre est coloré par la lumière rose du soleil levant."—About.
The terrace ("La Passeggiata") ends at the Obelisk of the Trinità de' Monti, erected here in 1822 by Pius VII., who found it near the Church of Sta. Croce in Gerusalemme.
"When the Ave Maria sounds, it is time to go to the church of Trinità de' Monti, where French nuns sing; and it is charming to hear them. I declare to heaven that I am become quite tolerant, and listen to bad music with edification; but what can I do? The composition is perfectly ridiculous, the organ-playing even more absurd: but it is twilight, and the whole of the small bright church is filled with persons kneeling, lit up by the sinking sun each time that the door is opened; both the singing nuns have the sweetest voices in the world, quite tender and touching, more especially when one of them sings the responses in her melodious voice, which we are accustomed to hear chaunted by priests in a loud, harsh, monotonous tone. The impression is very singular; moreover, it is well known that no one is permitted to see the fair singers, so this caused me to form a strange resolution. I have composed something to suit their voices, which I have observed very minutely, and I mean to send it to them. It will be pleasant to hear my chaunt performed by persons I never saw, especially as they must in turn sing it to the 'barbaro Tedescho,' whom they also never beheld."—Mendelssohn's Letters.
"In the evenings people go to the Trinità to hear the nuns sing from the organ-gallery. It sounds like the singing of angels. One sees in the choir troops of young scholars, moving with slow and measured steps, with their long white veils, like a flock of spirits."—Frederika Bremer.
The Church of the Trinità de' Monti was built in 1495 by Charles VIII. of France, at the request of S. Francesco di Paola. At the time of the French revolution it was plundered, but was restored by Louis XVIII. in 1817. It contains several interesting paintings.
In the second chapel on the left is the Descent from the Cross, the masterpiece of Daniele da Volterra, declared by Nicholas Poussin to be the third picture in the world, but terribly injured by the French in their attempts to remove it.
"We might almost fancy ourselves spectators of the mournful scene,—the Redeemer, while being removed from the cross, gradually sinking down with all that relaxation of limb and utter helplessness which belongs to a dead body; the assistants engaged in their various duties, and thrown into different and contrasted attitudes, intently occupied with the sacred remains which they so reverently gaze upon; the mother of the Lord in a swoon amidst her afflicted companions; the disciple whom he loved standing with outstretched arms, absorbed in contemplating the mysterious spectacle. The truth in the representation of the exposed parts of the body appears to be nature itself. The colouring of the heads and of the whole picture accords precisely with the subject, displaying strength rather than delicacy, a harmony, and in short a degree of skill, of which M. Angelo himself might have been proud, if the picture had been inscribed with his name. And to this I believe the author alluded, when he painted his friend with a looking-glass near it, as if to intimate that he might recognize in the picture a reflection of himself."—Lanzi.
"Daniele da Volterra's Descent from the Cross is one of the celebrated pictures of the world, and has very grand features. The body is not skilfully sustained; nevertheless the number of strong men employed about it makes up in sheer muscle for the absence of skill. Here are four ladders against the cross, stalwart figures standing, ascending, and descending upon each, so that the space between the cross and the ground is absolutely alive with magnificent lines. The Virgin lies on one side, and is like a grand creature struck down by a sudden death-blow. She has fallen, like Ananias in Raphael's cartoon, with her head bent backwards, and her arm under her. The crown of thorns has been taken from the dead brow, and rests on the end of one of the ladders."—Lady Eastlake.
The third chapel on the right contains an Assumption of the Virgin, another work of Daniele da Volterra. The fifth chapel is adorned with frescoes of his school. The sixth has frescoes of the school of Perugino. The frescoes in the right transept are by F. Zuccaro and Pierino del Vaga; in that of the Procession of St. Gregory the mausoleum of Hadrian is represented as it appeared in the time of Leo X.
The adjoining Convent of the Sacré Cœur is much frequented as a place of education. The nuns are all persons of rank. When a lady takes the veil, her nearest relations inherit her property, except about 1000l., which goes to the convent. The nuns are allowed to retain no personal property, but if they wish still to have the use of their books, they give them to the convent library. They receive visitors every afternoon, and quantities of people go to them from curiosity, on the plea of seeking advice.
From the Trinità the two popular streets—Sistina and Gregoriana—branch off; the former leading in a direct line (though the name changes) to Sta. Maria Maggiore, and thence to St. John Lateran and Sta. Croce in Gerusalemme. The house adjoining the Trinità was that of Nicholas Poussin; that at the angle of the two streets, called the Tempietto, was once inhabited by Claude Lorraine. The adjoining house (64 Sistina)—formerly known as Palazzo della Regina di Polonia, from Maria Casimira, Queen of Poland, who resided there for some years—was inhabited by the Zuccari family, and has paintings on the ground-floor by Federigo Zuccaro. One of the rooms on the first-floor was adorned with frescoes by modern German artists at the expense of the Prussian consul Bartholdy, viz.:—
The Selling of Joseph: Overbeck.
Joseph and Potiphar's Wife: Veit.
Meeting of Joseph and his Brethren: Cornelius.
The Seven Lean Years: Overbeck.
Joseph interprets the Dreams in Prison: Schadow.
The Brethren bring Joseph's Coat to Jacob: Schadow.
Joseph interprets the Dreams of Pharaoh: Cornelius.
The Seven Plentiful Years: Veit.
On the left of the Piazza del Popolo, the Via Babuino branches off, deriving its name from the mutilated figure on a fountain halfway down. On the right is the Greek Church of S. Atanasio, attached to a college founded by Gregory XIII. in 1580.