"In hoc sacrosancto loco qui dicitur ad Catacumbas, ubi sepulta fuerunt sanctorum martyrum corpora 174,000 ac 46 summorum pontificium pariterque martyrum. In altare in quo corpus divi Sebastiani Christi athletæ jacet celebrans summus Pontifex S. Gregorius Magnus vidit angelum Dei candidiorem nive, sibi in tremendo sacrificio ministrantem ac dicentem, 'Hic est locus sacratissimus in quo est divina promissio et omnium peccatorum remissio, splendor et lux perpetua, sine fine lætitia, quam Christi martyr Sebastianus habere promeruit.' Prout Severanus Tom. Pº. pagina 450, ac etiam antiquissimæ lapideæ testantur tabulæ.

"Ideo in hoc insigne privilegiato altari, tam missæ cantatæ quam privatæ, dum celebrante, animæ quæ sunt in purgatorio pro quibus sacrificium offertur plenariam indulgentiam, et omnium suorum peccatorum remissionem consequuntur prout ab angelo dictum fuit et summi pontifices confirmarunt."

These are the catacombs which are most frequently visited by strangers, because they can always be seen on application to the monks attached to the church,—though they are of greatly inferior interest to those of St Calixtus.

"Though future excavations may bring to light much that is interesting in this cemetery, the small portion now accessible is, as a specimen of the Catacombs, utterly without value. Its only interest consists in its religious associations: here St. Bridget was wont to kneel, rapt in contemplation; here St. Charles Borromeo spent whole nights in prayer; and here the heart of St. Philip Neri was so inflamed with divine love as to cause his very bodily frame to be changed."—Northcote's Roman Catacombs.

"Philip, on thee the glowing ray
Of heaven came down upon thy prayer,
To melt thy heart, and burn away
All that of earthly dross was there.
"And so, on Philip when we gaze,
We see the image of his Lord;
The saint dissolves amid the blaze
Which circles round the Living Word.
"The meek, the wise, none else is here,
Dispensing light to men below;
His awful accents fill the ear,
Now keen as fire, now soft as snow."
J. H. Newman, 1850.

Owing to the desire in the early Christian Church of saving the graves of their first confessors and martyrs from desecration, almost all the catacombs were gradually blocked up, and by lapse of time their very entrances were forgotten. In the fourteenth century very few were still open. In the fifteenth century none remained except this of St. Sebastian, which continued to be frequented by pilgrims, and was called in all ancient documents "cœmeterium ad catacumbas."

At the back of the high-altar is an interesting half-subterranean building, attributed to Pope Liberius (352—355), and afterwards adorned by Pope Damasus, who briefly tells its history in one of his inscriptions, which may still be seen here:

"Hinc habitasse prius sanctos cognoscere debes,
Nomina quisque Petri pariter Paulique requiris.
Discipulos Oriens misit, quod sponte fatemur,
Sanguinis ob meritum Christumque per astra sequuti,
Aetherios petiere sinus et regna piorum.
Roma suos potius meruit defendere cives.
Hæc Damasus vestras referat sidera laudes."

"Here you should know that saints dwelt. Their names, if you ask them, were Peter and Paul. The East sent disciples, which we freely acknowledge. For the merit of their blood they followed Christ to the stars, and sought the heavenly home and the kingdom of the blest. Rome however deserved to defend her own citizens. May Damasus record these things for your praise, O new stars."

"The two Apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul, were originally buried, the one at the Vatican, the other on the Ostian Way, at the spot where their respective basilicas now stand; but, as soon as the Oriental Christians had heard of their death, they sent some of their brethren to remove their bodies, and bring them back to the East, where they considered that they had a right to claim them as their fellow-citizens and countrymen. These so far prospered in their mission as to gain a momentary possession of the sacred relics, which they carried off, along the Appian Way, as far as the spot where the church of St. Sebastian was afterwards built. Here they rested for a while, to make all things ready for their journey, or, according to another account, were detained by a thunderstorm of extraordinary violence, which delay, however occasioned, was sufficient to enable the Christians of Rome to overtake them and recover their lost treasure. These Roman Christians then buried the bodies, with the utmost secrecy, in a deep pit, which they dug on the very spot where they were. Soon, indeed, they were restored to their original places of sepulture, as we know from contemporary authorities, and there seems reason to believe the old ecclesiastical tradition to be correct, which states them to have only remained in this temporary abode for a year and seven months. The body of St. Peter, however, was destined to revisit it a second time, and for a longer period; for when, at the beginning of the third century, Heliogabalus made his circus at the Vatican, Calixtus, who was then pope, removed the relics of the Apostle to their former temporary resting-place, the pit on the Appian Way. But in A.D. 257, St. Stephen, the pope, having been discovered in this very cemetery and having suffered martyrdom there, the body of St. Peter was once more removed, and restored to its original tomb in the Vatican."—Northcote's Roman Catacombs.

In the passages of this catacomb are misguiding inscriptions placed here in 1409 by William, Archbishop of Bourges, calling upon the faithful to venerate here the tombs of Sta. Cecilia and of many of the martyred popes, who are buried elsewhere. The martyr St. Cyrinus is known to have been buried here from very early itineraries, but his grave has not been discovered.

"When I was a boy, being educated at Rome, I used every Sunday, in company with other boys of my own age and tastes, to visit the tombs of the apostles and martyrs, and to go into the crypts excavated there in the bowels of the earth. The walls on either side as you enter are full of the bodies of the dead, and the whole place is so dark, that one seems almost to see the fulfilment of those words of the prophet, 'Let them go down alive into Hades.' Here and there a little light, admitted from above, suffices to give a momentary relief to the horror of the darkness; but as you go forwards, and find yourself again immersed in the utter blackness of night, the words of the poet come spontaneously to your mind: 'The very silence fills the soul with dread.'"—St. Jerome (A.D. 354), In Ezek. ch. lx.

"A gaunt Franciscan friar, with a wild bright eye, was our only guide down into this profound and dreadful place. The narrow ways and openings hither and thither, coupled with the dead and heavy air, soon blotted out, in all of us, any recollection of the track by which we had come; and I could not help thinking, 'Good Heaven, if in a sudden fit of madness he should dash the torches out, or if he should be seized with a fit, what would become of us!' On we wandered, among martyrs' graves: passing great subterranean vaulted roads, diverging in all directions, and choked up with heaps of stones, that thieves and murderers may not take refuge there, and form a population under Rome, even worse than that which lives between it and the sun. Graves, graves, graves; graves of men, of women, of little children, who ran crying to the persecutors, 'We are Christians! we are Christians!' that they might be murdered with their parents; graves with the palm of martyrdom roughly cut into their stone boundaries, and little niches, made to hold a vessel of the martyr's blood; graves of some who lived down here, for years together, ministering to the rest, and preaching truth, and hope, and comfort, from the rude altars, that bear witness to their fortitude at this hour; more roomy graves, but far more terrible, where hundreds, being surprised, were hemmed in and walled up; buried before death, and killed by slow starvation.

"'The triumphs of the Faith are not above-ground in our splendid churches,' said the friar, looking round upon us, as we stopped to rest in one of the low passages, with bones and dust surrounding us on every side. 'They are here! among the martyrs' graves!' He was a gentle, earnest man, and said it from his heart; but when I thought how Christian men have dealt with one another; how, perverting our most merciful religion, they have hunted down and tortured, burnt and beheaded, strangled, slaughtered, and oppressed each other; I pictured to myself an agony surpassing any that this Dust had suffered with the breath of life yet lingering in it, and how these great and constant hearts would have been shaken—how they would have quailed and drooped—if a foreknowledge of the deeds that professing Christians would commit in the great name for which they died, could have rent them with its own unutterable anguish, on the cruel wheel, and bitter cross, and in the fearful fire."—Dickens.

"Countless martyrs, they say, rest in these ancient sepulchres. In these dark depths the ancient Church took refuge from persecution; there she laid her martyrs, and there, over their tombs, she chaunted hymns of triumph, and held communion with Him for whom they died. In that church I spend hours. I have no wish to descend into those sacred sepulchres, and pry among the graves the resurrection trump will open soon enough. I like to think of the holy dead, lying undisturbed and quiet there; of their spirits in Paradise; of their faith triumphant in the city that massacred them.

"No doubt they also had their perplexities, and wondered why the wicked triumph, and sighed to God, 'How long, O Lord, how long?'"—Schonberg Cotta Family.

"And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held: and they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth? And white robes were given unto every one of them; and it was said unto them, that they should rest yet for a little season, until their fellow-servants also and their brethren, that should be killed as they were, should be fulfilled."—Rev. vi. 9—11.

In the valley beneath S. Sebastiano are the ruins of the Circus of Maxentius, near those of a villa of that emperor. The circus was 1482 feet long, 244 feet broad, and was capable of containing 15,000 spectators, yet it is a miniature compared with the Circus Maximus, though very interesting as retaining in tolerable preservation all the different parts which composed a circus. The circular ruin near it was a Temple dedicated by Maxentius to his son Romulus.

"Le jeune Romulus, étant mort, fut placé au rang des dieux, dans cet olympe qui s'écroulait. Son père lui éleva un temple dont la partie inférieure se voit encore, et le cirque lui-même fut peut-être une dépendance de ce temple funèbre, car les courses de chars étaient un des honneurs que l'antiquité rendait aux morts, et sont souvent pour cela représentées sur les tombeaux."—Ampère, Emp. ii. 360.

These ruins are very picturesque, backed by the peaks of the Sabine range, which in winter are generally covered with snow.

The opposite hill is crowned by the Tomb of Cecilia Metella, daughter of Quintus Metellus Creticus, and wife of Crassus. It is a round tower, seventy feet in diameter. The bulls' heads on the frieze gave it the popular name of Capo di Bove. The marble coating of the basement was carried off by Urban VIII. to make the fountain of Trevi. The battlements were added when the tomb was turned into a fortress by the Caëtani in the thirteenth century.

"About two miles, or more, from the city gates, and right upon the roadside, is an immense round pile, sepulchral in its original purpose, like those already mentioned. It is built of great blocks of hewn stone, on a vast, square foundation of rough, agglomerated material, such as composes the mass of all the other ruinous tombs. But, whatever might be the cause, it is in a far better state of preservation than they. On its broad summit rise the battlements of a mediæval fortress, out of the midst of which (so long since had time begun to crumble the supplemental structure, and cover it with soil, by means of wayside dust) grow trees, bushes, and thick festoons of ivy. This tomb of a woman has become the dungeon-keep of a castle; and all the care that Cecilia Metella's husband could bestow, to secure endless peace for her beloved relics, only sufficed to make that handful of precious ashes the nucleus of battles, long ages after her death."—Hawthorne, Transformation.

"There is a stern round tower of other days,
Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone,
Such as an army's baffled strength delays,
Standing with half its battlements alone,
And with two thousand years of ivy grown,
The garland of eternity, where wave
The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown;—
What was this tower of strength? within its cave
What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid?—a woman's grave.
"But who was she, the lady of the dead,
Tomb'd in a palace? Was she chaste and fair?
Worthy a king's—or more—a Roman's bed?
What race of chiefs and heroes did she bear?
What daughter of her beauties was the heir?
How lived—how loved—how died she? Was she not
So honoured—and conspicuously there,
Where meaner relics must not dare to rot,
Placed to commemorate a more than mortal lot?
"Perchance she died in youth: it may be, bow'd
With woes far heavier than the ponderous tomb
That weigh'd upon her gentle dust, a cloud
Might gather o'er her beauty, and a gloom
In her dark eye, prophetic of the doom
Heaven gives its favourites—early death; yet shed
A sunset charm around her, and illume
With hectic light, the Hesperus of the dead,
Of her consuming cheek the autumnal leaf-like red.
"Perchance she died in age—surviving all,
Charms, kindred, children—with the silver grey
On her long tresses, which might yet recall,
It may be, still a something of the day
When they were braided, and her proud array
And lovely form were envied, praised, and eyed
By Rome—but whither would Conjecture stray?

Thus much alone we know—Metella died,
The wealthiest Roman's wife: Behold his love or pride!"
Childe Harold.

Close to the tomb are the ruins of a Gothic church of the Caëtani.

"Le tombeau de Cecilia-Metella était devenu un château fort alors aux mains des Caëtani, et autour du château s'était formé un village avec son église, dont on a récemment retrouvé les restes."—Ampère, Voyage Dantesque.

It is at Cecilia Metella's tomb that the beauties of the Via Appia really begin. A very short distance further, we emerge from the walls which have hitherto shut in the road on either side, and enjoy uninterrupted views over the Latin plain, strewn with its ruined castles and villages—and the long lines of aqueducts, to the Sabine and Alban mountains.

"The Via Appia is a magnificent promenade, amongst ruinous tombs, the massive remains of which extend for many miles over the Roman Campagna. The powerful families of ancient Rome loved to build monuments to their dead by the side of the public road, probably to exhibit at once their affection for their relations and their own power and affluence. Most of these monuments are now nothing but heaps of ruins, upon which are placed the statues and sculptures which have been found in the earth or amongst the rubbish. Those inscriptions which have been found on the Via Appia bear witness to the grief of the living for the dead, but never to the hope of reunion. On a great number of sarcophagi or the friezes of tombs may be seen the dead sitting or lying as if they were alive, some seem to be praying. Many heads have great individuality of character. Sometimes a white marble figure, beautifully draped, projects from these heaps of ruins, but without head or hands; sometimes a hand is stretched out, or a portion of a figure rises from the tomb. It is a street through monuments of the dead, across an immense churchyard; for the desolate Roman Campagna may be regarded as such. To the left it is scattered with the ruins of colossal aqueducts, which, during the time of the emperors, conveyed lakes and rivers to Rome, and which still, ruinous and destroyed, delight the eye by the beautiful proportions of their arcades. To the right is an immense prairie, without any other limit than that of the ocean, which, however, is not seen from it. The country is desolate, and only here and there are there any huts or trees to be seen."—Frederika Bremer.

"For the space of a mile or two beyond the gate of S. Sebastiano, this ancient and famous road is as desolate and disagreeable as most of the other Roman avenues. It extends over small, uncomfortable paving-stones, between brick and plastered walls, which are very solidly constructed, and so high as almost to exclude a view of the surrounding country. The houses are of the most uninviting aspect, neither picturesque, nor homelike and social; they have seldom or never a door opening on the wayside, but are accessible only from the rear, and frown inhospitably upon the traveller through iron-grated windows. Here and there appears a dreary inn, or a wine-shop, designated by the withered bush beside the entrance, within which you discover a stone-built and sepulchral interior, where guests refresh themselves with sour bread and goat's-milk cheese, washed down with wine of dolorous acerbity.

"At frequent intervals along the roadside, up rises the ruin of an ancient tomb. As they stand now, these structures are immensely high, and broken mounds of conglomerated brick, stone, pebbles, and earth, all molten by time into a mass as solid and indestructible as if each tomb were composed of a single boulder of granite. When first erected, they were cased externally, no doubt, with slabs of polished marble, artfully wrought, bas-reliefs, and all such suitable adornments, and were rendered majestically beautiful by grand architectural designs. This antique splendour has long since been stolen from the dead, to decorate the palaces and churches of the living. Nothing remains to the dishonoured sepulchres, except their massiveness.

"Even the pyramids form hardly a stranger spectacle, or a more alien from human sympathies, than the tombs of the Appian Way, with their gigantic height, breadth, and solidity, defying time and the elements, and far too mighty to be demolished by an ordinary earthquake. Here you may see a modern dwelling, and a garden with its vines and olive-trees, perched on the lofty dilapidation of a tomb, which forms a precipice of fifty feet in depth on each of the four sides. There is a house on that funeral mound, where generations of children have been born, and successive lives have been spent, undisturbed by the ghost of the stern Roman whose ashes were so preposterously burdened. Other sepulchres wear a crown of grass, shrubbery, and forest-trees, which throw out a broad sweep of branches, having had time, twice over, to be a thousand years of age. On one of them stands a tower, which, though immemorially more modern than the tomb, was itself built by immemorial hands, and is now rifted quite from top to bottom by a vast fissure of decay; the tomb-hillock, its foundation, being still as firm as ever, and likely to endure until the last trump shall rend it wide asunder, and summon forth its unknown dead.

"Yes, its unknown dead! For, except in one or two doubtful instances, these mountainous sepulchral edifices have not availed to keep so much as the bare name of an individual or a family from oblivion. Ambitious of everlasting remembrance as they were, the slumberers might just as well have gone quietly to rest, each in his pigeon-hole of a columbarium, or under his little green hillock, in a grave-yard, without a headstone to mark the spot. It is rather satisfactory than otherwise, to think that all these idle pains have turned out so utterly abortive."—Hawthorne.

Near the fourth milestone, is the tomb of Marcus Servilius Quartus (with an inscription), restored by Canova in 1808. A bas-relief of the death of Atys, killed by Adrastus, a short distance beyond this, has been suggested as part of the tomb of Seneca, who was put to death "near the fourth milestone" by order of Nero. An inscribed tomb beyond this is that of Sextus Pompeius Justus.

Near this, in the Campagna on the left, are some small remains, supposed to be those of a Temple of Juno.

Beyond this a number of tombs can be identified, but none of any importance. Such are the tombs of Plinius Eutychius, erected by Plinius Zosimus, a freedman of Pliny the younger; of Caius Licinius; the Doric tomb of the tax-gatherer Claudius Philippanus, inscribed "Tito. Claudio. Secundo. Philippiano. Coactori. Flavia. Irene. Vxori Indulgentissimo;" of Rabinius, with three busts in relief; of Hermodorus; of Elsia Prima, priestess of Isis; of Marcus C. Cerdonus, with the bas-relief of an elephant bearing a burning altar.

Beyond the fifth milestone, two circular mounds with basements of peperino, were considered by Canina to be the tombs of the Horatii and Curiatii.

On the opposite side of the road is the exceedingly picturesque mediæval fortress, known as Torre Mezza Strada, into which are incorporated the remains of the Church of Sta. Maria Nuova, or della Gloria. Behind this extend a vast assemblage of ruins, which form a splendid foreground to the distant mountain view, and whose size has led to their receiving the popular epithet of Roma Vecchia. Here was the favourite villa of the Emperor Commodus, where he was residing, when the people, excited by a sudden impulse during the games of the Circus, rose and poured out of Rome against him—as the inhabitants of Paris to Versailles—and refused to depart, till, terrified into action by the entreaties of his concubine Marcia, he tossed the head of the unpopular Cleander to them out of the window, and had the brains of that minister's child dashed out against the stones. This villa is proved by the discovery of a number of pipes bearing their names to have been that of the brothers Condianus and Maximus, of the great family of the Quintilii, which was confiscated by Commodus.

"L'histoire des deux frères est intéressante et romanesque. Condianus et Maximus Quintilius étaient distingués par la science, les talents militaires, la richesse, et surtout par une tendresse mutuelle qui ne s'était jamais démentie. Servant toujours ensemble, l'un se faisait le lieutenant de l'autre. Bien qu'étrangers à toute conspiration, leur vertu les fit soupçonner d'être peu favorables à Commode; ils furent proscrits et moururent ensemble comme ils avaient vécu. L'un d'eux avait un fils nommé Sextus. Au moment de la mort de son père et de son oncle, ce fils se trouvait en Syrie. Pensant bien que le même sort l'attendait, il feignit de mourir pour sauver sa vie. Sextus, après avoir bu sang du lièvre, monta à cheval, se laissa tomber, vomit le sang qu'il avait pris et qui parut être son propre sang. On mit dans sa bière le corps d'un bélier qui passa pour son cadavre, et il disparut. Depuis ce temps, il erra sons divers déguisements; mais on sut qu'il avait échappé, et on se mit à sa recherche. Beaucoup furent tués parce-qu'ils lui ressemblaient ou parce-qu'ils étaient soupçonnés de lui avoir donné asile. Il n'est pas bien sûr qu'il ait été atteint, que sa tête se trouvât parmi celles qu'on apporta à Rome et qu'on dit être la sienne. Ce qui est certain, c'est qu'après la mort de Commode, un aventurier, tenté par la belle villa et par les grandes richesses des Quintilii, se donna pour Sextus et réclama son héritage. Il paraît ne pas avoir manqué d'adresse et avoir connu celui pour lequel il voulut qu'on le prît, car par ses réponses il se tira très-bien de toutes les enquêtes. Peut-être s'était-il lié avec Sextus et l'avait-il assassiné ensuite. Cependant l'empereur Pertinax, successeur de Commode, l'ayant fait venir, eut l'idée de lui parler grec. Le vrai Sextus connaissait parfaitement cette langue. Le faux Sextus, qui ne savait pas le grec, répondit tout de travers, et sa fraude fut ainsi découverte."—Ampère, Emp. ii. 253.

On the left of the Via Appia, appears a huge monument, on a narrow base, called the Tomb of the Metelli. Beyond this, after the fifth milestone, are the tombs of Sergius Demetrius, a wine merchant; of Lucius Arrius; of Septimia Gallia; and of one of the Cæcilii, in whose sepulchre, according to Eutropius, was buried Pomponius Atticus, the friend of Cicero, whose daughter Vipsania was the first wife of Agrippa, and whose granddaughter Vipsania Agrippina was the first wife of Tiberius.

Close to the sixth milestone is the mass of masonry sometimes called "Casale Rotondo," or "Cotta's Tomb," from that name being found there inscribed on a stone, but generally attributed to Messala Corvinus, the poet, and friend of Horace, and believed to have been raised to him by his son Valerius Maximus Cotta, mentioned in Ovid.

"Te autem in turba non ausim, Cotta, silere,
Pieridum lumen, præsidiumque fori."
Epist. xvi.

This tomb was even larger than that of Cecilia Metella, and was turned into a fortress by the Orsini in the fifteenth century.

Beyond this are tombs identified as those of P. Quintius, tribune of the sixteenth legion; Marcus Julius, steward of Claudius; Publius Decumius Philomusus (with appropriate bas-reliefs of two mice nibbling a cake); and of Cedritius Flaccianius.

Passing on the left the Tor di Selce, erected upon a huge unknown tomb, are the tombs of Titia Eucharis, and of Atilius Evodus, jeweller (margaritarius) on the Via Sacra, with the inscription, "Hospes resiste—aspice ubi continentur ossa hominis boni misericordis amantis pauperis." Near the eighth milestone are ruins attributed to the temples of Silvanus and of Hercules,—of which the latter is mentioned in Martial's Epigrams, beyond which were the villas of Bassus and of Persius. The last tomb identified is that of Quintus Verranius. Near the ninth milestone is a tomb supposed to be that of Gallienus (Imp. 268), who lived close by in a villa, amid the ruins of which "the Discobolus" was discovered.

From the stream called Pontecello, near the tenth milestone, the road gradually ascends to Albano, passing several large but unnamed tombs. At the Osteria delle Frattocchie it joins the Via Appia Nuova. Close to the gate of Albano, it passes on the left the tall tomb attributed to Pompey the Great, in accordance with the statement of Plutarch, and in spite of the epigram of Varro Atacinus, which says:—

"Marmoreo Licinius tumulo jacet; at Cato parvo;
Pompeius nullo: quis putet esse Deus."

Among the many processions which have passed along this road, perhaps the most remarkable have been that bearing back to Rome the dead body of Sylla, who died at Pozzuoli, "in a gilt litter, with royal ornaments, trumpets before him, and horsemen behind;"[223] and the funeral of Augustus, who dying at Nola (A.D. 14), was brought to Bovillæ, and remained there a month in the sanctuary of the Julian family, after which the knights brought the body in solemn procession to his palace on the Palatine.

But throughout a walk along the Appian Way, the one great Christian interest of this world-famous road, will, to the Christian visitor, overpower all others.

"And so we went toward Rome.

"And from thence, when the brethren heard of us, they came to meet us as far as Appii-forum, and the Three Taverns: whom when Paul saw, he thanked God, and took courage.

"And when we came to Rome, the centurion delivered the prisoners to the captain of the guard; but Paul was suffered to dwell by himself, with a soldier that kept him."—Acts xxviii. 14—16.

"It is not without its manifold uses to remember that, amidst the dim and wavering traditions of later times, one figure at least stands out clear and distinct and undoubted, and this figure is the Apostle Paul. He, whatever we may think concerning any other apostle or apostolic man in connection with Rome, he, beyond a shadow of doubt, appears in the New Testament as her great teacher. No criticism or scepticism of modern times has ever questioned the perfect authenticity of that last chapter of the Acts, which gives the account of his journey, stage by stage, till he set foot within the walls of the city. However much we may be compelled to distrust any particular traditions concerning special localities of his life and death, we cannot doubt for a moment that his eye rested on the same general view of sky and plain and mountain; that his feet trod the pavement of the same Appian road; that his way lay through the same long avenue of ancient tombs on which we now look and wonder; that he entered (and there we have our last authentic glimpse of his progress) through the arch of Drusus, and then is lost to our view in the great Babylon of Rome."—A. P. Stanley's Sermons.

"When St. Paul was approaching Rome, all the bases of the mountains were (as indeed they are partially now) clustered round with the villas and gardens of wealthy citizens. The Appian Way climbs and then descends along its southern slope. After passing Lanuvium it crossed a crater-like valley or immense substructions, which still remain. Here is Aricia, an easy stage from Rome. The town was above the road, and on the hillside swarms of beggars beset travellers as they passed. On the summit of the next rise, Paul of Tarsus would obtain his first view of Rome. There is no doubt that the prospect was, in many respects, very different from the view which is now obtained from the same spot. It is true that the natural features of the scene are unaltered. The long wall of blue Sabine mountains, with Soracte in the distance, closed in the Campagna, which stretched far across to the sea and round the base of the Alban hills. But ancient Rome was not, like modern Rome, impressive from its solitude, standing alone, with its one conspicuous cupola, in the midst of a desolate though beautiful waste. St. Paul would see a vast city, covering the Campagna, and almost continuously connected by its suburbs with the villas on the hill where he stood, and with the bright towns which clustered on the sides of the mountains opposite. Over all the intermediate space were the houses and gardens, through which aqueducts and roads might be traced in converging lines towards the confused mass of edifices which formed the city of Rome. Here no conspicuous building, elevated above the rest, attracted the eye or the imagination. Ancient Rome had neither cupola nor campanile, still less had it any of those spires which give life to all the capitals of northern Christendom. It was a widespread aggregate of buildings, which, though separated by narrow streets and open spaces, appeared, when seen from near Aricia, blended into one indiscriminate mass: for distance concealed the contrasts which divided the crowded habitations of the poor and the dark haunts of filth and misery—from the theatres and colonnades, the baths, the temples, and palaces with gilded roofs, flashing back the sun.

"The road descended into the plain at Bovillæ, six miles from Aricia: and thence it proceeded in a straight line, with the sepulchres of illustrious families on either hand. One of these was the burial-place of the Julian gens, with which the centurion who had charge of the prisoners was in some way connected. As they proceeded over the old pavement, among gardens and modern houses, and approached nearer the busy metropolis—the 'conflux issuing forth or entering in' in various costumes and on various errands,—vehicles, horsemen, and foot-passengers, soldiers and labourers, Romans and foreigners,—became more crowded and confusing. The houses grew closer. They were already in Rome. It was impossible to define the commencement of the city. Its populous portions extended far beyond the limits marked out by Servius. The ancient wall, with its once sacred pomœrium, was rather an object for antiquarian interest, like the walls of York or Chester, than any protection against the enemies, who were kept far aloof by the legions on the frontier.

"Yet the Porta Capena is a spot which we can hardly leave without lingering for a moment. Under this arch—which was perpetually dripping with the water of the aqueduct that went over it—had passed all those who, since a remote period of the republic, had travelled by the Appian Way,—victorious generals with their legions, returning from foreign service,—emperors and courtiers, vagrant representatives of every form of heathenism, Greeks and Asiatics, Jews and Christians. From this point entering within the city, Julius and his prisoners moved on, with the Aventine on their left, close round the base of the Cœlian, and through the hollow ground which lay between this hill and the Palatine: thence over the low ridge called Velia, where afterwards was built the arch of Titus, to commemorate the destruction of Jerusalem; and then descending, by the Via Sacra, into that space which was the centre of imperial power and imperial magnificence, and associated also with the most glorious recollections of the republic. The Forum was to Rome, what the Acropolis was to Athens, the heart of all the characteristic interest of the place. Here was the Milliarium Aureum, to which the roads of all the provinces converged. All around were the stately buildings, which were raised in the closing years of the republic, and by the earlier emperors. In front was the Capitoline Hill, illustrious long before the invasion of the Gauls. Close on the left, covering that hill, whose name is associated in every modern European language with the notion of imperial splendour, were the vast ranges of the palace—the 'house of Cæsar' (Philipp. iv. 22). Here were the household troops quartered in a prætorium attached to the palace. And here (unless, indeed, it was in the great Prætorian Camp outside the city wall) Julius gave up his prisoner to Burrus, the Prætorian Prefect, whose official duty it was to keep in custody all accused persons who were to be tried before the Emperor."—Conybeare and Howson.

CHAPTER X.

THE QUIRINAL AND VIMINAL.

Palazzo Barberini—Palazzo Albani—S. Carlo a Quattro Fontane—S. Andrea a Monte Cavallo—Quirinal Palace—Palazzo della Consulta—Palazzo Rospigliosi—Colonna Gardens and Temple of the Sun—S. Silvestro a Monte Cavallo—Sta. Caterina di Siena—SS. Domenico e Sisto—Sta. Agata dei Goti—Sta. Maria in Monte—S. Lorenzo Pane e Perna—Sta. Pudenziana—S. Paolo Primo Eremita—S. Dionisio—S. Vitale.

IT is difficult to determine the exact limits of what in ancient times were regarded as the Quirinal and Viminal hills. They, like the Esquiline and Cœlian, are "in fact merely spurs or tongues of hill, projecting inwards from a common base, the broad table-land, which slopes on the other side almost imperceptibly into the Campagna."[224] That, which is described in this chapter as belonging to these two hills, is chiefly the district to the right of the Via Quattro Fontane, and its continuations—which extend in a straight line to Sta. Maria Maggiore.

The Quirinal, like all the other hills, except the Palatine and the Cœlian, belonged to the Sabines in the early period of Roman history, and is full of records of their occupation. They had a Capitol here which is believed to have been long anterior to that on the Capitoline, and which was crowned by a temple of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. This Sabine capitol occupied the site of the present Palazzo Rospigliosi.

The name Quirinal is derived from the Sabine word Quiris—signifying a lance, which gave the Sabines their name of Quirites, or lance-bearers, and to their god the name Quirinus.[225] After his death Romulus received this title, and an important temple was raised to him on the Quirinal by Numa,[226] under this name, thus identifying him with Janus Quirinus, the national god. This temple was surrounded by a sacred grove mentioned by Ovid.[227] It was rebuilt by the consul L. Papirius Cursor, to commemorate his triumph after the third Samnite war, B.C. 293, when he adorned it with a sun-dial (solarium horologium), the first set up in Rome, which, however, not being constructed for the right latitude, did not show the time correctly. This defect was not remedied till nearly a century afterwards, when Q. Marcius Philippus set up a correct dial.[228] In front of this temple grew two celebrated myrtle-trees, one called Patricia, the other Plebeia, which shared the fortunes of their respective orders, as the orange-tree at Sta. Sabina now does that of the Dominicans. Thus, up to the fifth century, Patricia flourished gloriously, and Plebeia pined; but from the time when the plebeians completely gained the upper hand, Patricia withered away.[229] The temple was rebuilt by Augustus, and Dion Cassius states that the number of pillars by which it was surrounded accorded with that of the years of his life.[230]

Adjoining the temple was a portico:

"Vicini pete porticum Quirini:
Turbam non habet otiosiorem
Pompeius."
Martial, xi. Ep. i.
——"Officium cras
Primo sole mihi peragendum in valle Quirini."
Juvenal, Sat. ii. 132.

Hard by was a temple of Fortuna Publica,

"Qui dicet, Quondam sacrata est colle Quirini
Hac Fortuna die Publica; verus erit."
Ovid, Fast. iv. 375.

also an altar to Mamurius, an ancient Sabine divinity, probably identical with Mars, and a temple of Salus, or Health, which gave a name to the Porta Salutaria, which must have stood nearly on the site of the present Quattro Fontane, and near which, not inappropriately, was a temple of Fever, in the Via S. Vitale, where fever is still prevalent.

The site of the temple of Quirinus is ascertained to have been nearly that now occupied by S. Andrea a Monte Cavallo. On the opposite side of the street, where part of the papal palace now stands, was the temple of Semo-Sanctus, the reputed father of Sabinus. Between these two temples was the House of Pomponius Atticus (the friend and correspondent of Cicero), a situation which gave an opportunity for the witticism of Cicero when he said that Caesar would rather dwell with Quirinus than with Salus, meaning that he would rather be at war than be in good health.[231]

In the same neighbourhood lived Martial the epigrammatist, "on the third floor, in a narrow street," whence he had a view as far as the portico of Agrippa, near the Flaminian Way. Below, probably on the site now occupied by the Piazza Barberini, was a Circus of Flora.

"Mater, ades, florum, ludis celebranda jocosis:
Distuleram partes mense priore tuas.
Incipis Aprili: transis in tempora Maii.
Alter te, fugiens; cum venit, alter habet.
Quum tua sint cedantque tibi confinia mensum,
Convenit in laudes ille vel ille tuas.
Circus in hunc exit, clamataque palma theatris:
Hoc quoque cum Circi munere carmen eat."
Ovid, Fast. v. 183.

Among the great families who lived on the Quirinal were the Cornelii, who had a street of their own, Vicus Corneliorum, probably on the slopes behind the present Colonna Palace; and the Flavii, who were of Sabine origin.[232] Domitian was born here in the house of the Flavii, afterwards consecrated by him as a temple, in which Vespasian, Titus, and Domitian himself were buried, and Julia the ugly daughter of Titus—well known from her statues in the Vatican.

As some fragments remain of the two buildings erected on the Quirinal during the later empire, Aurelian's Temple of the Sun, and the Baths of Constantine, they will be noticed in the regular course.


On the ascent of the hill, just above the Piazza del Tritone, is the noble Barberini Palace, built by Urban VIII. from designs of Carlo Maderno, continued by Borromini, and finished by Bernini, in 1640. It is screened from the street by a magnificent railing between columns, erected 1865—67, and if this railing could be continued, and the block of houses towards the piazza removed, it would be far the most splendid private palace in Rome.

This immense building is a memorial of the magnificence and ambition of Urban VIII. Its size is enormous, the smallest apartment in the palace containing forty rooms. The Prince at present inhabits the right wing; with him lives his elder brother the Duke, who abdicated the family honours in his favour. In the left wing—occupied in the beginning of this century by the ex-king (Charles VII.) and queen of Spain, and the "Prince of Peace"—is the huge apartment of the late Cardinal Barberini, now uninhabited. On this side is the grand staircase, upon which is placed a lion in high relief, found on the family property at Palestrina. It is before this lion that Canova is said to have lain for hours upon the pavement, studying for his tomb of Clement XIII. in St. Peter's. The guarda-roba, badly kept, contains many curious relics of family grandeur; amongst them is a sedan-chair, painted by Titian.

The Library (open on Thursdays from nine to two) contains a most valuable collection of MSS., about 7000 in number, brought together by Cardinal Francesco Barberini, nephew of Urban VIII. They include collections of letters of Galileo, Bembo, and Bellarmine; the official reports to Urban VIII., relating to the state of Catholicism in England in the time of Charles I.; a copy of the Bible in the Samaritan character; a Bible of the fourth century; several MSS. copies of Dante; a missal illuminated by Ghirlandajo; and a book of sketches of ancient Roman edifices, of 1465, by Giuliano de Sangallo,—most interesting to the antiquarian and architect, as preserving the forms of many public buildings which have disappeared since that date. Among the 50,000 printed books is a Hebrew Bible of 1788, one of the twelve known copies of the complete edition of Soncino; a Latin Plato, by Ficino, with marginal notes by Tasso and his father Bernardo; a Dante of 1477, with notes by Bembo, &c.

In the right wing is a huge Hall (adorned with second-rate statues), with a grand ceiling by Pietro da Cortona (1596—1669), representing "Il Trionfo della Gloria," the Forge of Vulcan, Minerva annihilating the Titans, and other mythological subjects—much admired by Lanzi, and considered by Kugler to be the most important work of the artist. Four vast frescoes of the Fathers of the Church are preserved here, having been removed from the dome of St. Peter's, where they were replaced with mosaics by Urban VIII. Below are other frescoes by Pietro da Cortona, a portrait of Urban VIII., and some tapestries illustrative of the events of his reign and of his own intense self-esteem—thus the Virgin and Angels are represented bringing in the ornaments of the papacy at his coronation, &c. But the conceit of Pope Urban reaches its climax in a room at the top of the house, which exhibits a number of the Barberini bees (the family crest) flocking against the sun, and eclipsing it—to typify the splendour of the family. The Will of Pope Urban VIII. is a very curious document, providing against the extinction of the family in every apparent contingency; this, however, now seems likely to take place; the heir is a Sciarra. The pillars in front of the palace, and all the surrounding buildings, teem with the bees of the Barberini, which may also be seen on the Propaganda and many other great Roman edifices, and which are creeping up the robe of Urban VIII. in St. Peter's.