"I bless Thee, O Father of my God and Saviour Jesus Christ, who, by the power of this thy well-beloved Son, commanded the fire to respect me."
"At this age, a young girl trembles at an angry look from her mother; the prick of a needle draws tears as easily as a wound. Yet fearless under the bloody hands of her executioners, Agnes is immoveable under the heavy chains which weigh her down; ignorant of death, but ready to die, she presents her body to the point of the sword of a savage soldier. Dragged against her will to the altar, she holds forth her arms to Christ through the fires of the sacrifice; and her hand forms even in those blasphemous flames the sign which is the trophy of a victorious Saviour. She presents her neck and her two hands to the fetters which they bring for her, but it is impossible to find any small enough to encircle her delicate limbs."—St. Ambrose.
The statue of St. Sebastian in this church is an antique, altered by Maini, that of St. Agnes is by Ercole Ferrata; the bas-relief of St. Cecilia is by Antonio Raggi. Over the entrance is the half-length figure and tomb of Innocent X. (Gio. Battista Pamfili, 1644—55), an amiable but feeble pope, who was entirely governed by his strong-minded and avaricious sister-in-law, Olympia Maldacchini, who deserted him on his death-bed, making off with the accumulated spoils of his ten years' papacy, which enabled her son, Don Camillo, to build the Palazzo Doria Pamfili, in the Corso, and the beautiful Villa Doria Pamfili.[307]
"After the three days during which the body of Innocent remained exposed at St. Peter's, say the memoirs of the time, no one could be found who would undertake his burial. They sent to tell Donna Olympia to prepare for him a coffin, and an escutcheon, but she answered that she was a poor widow. Of all his other relations and nephews, not one gave any sign of life; so that at length the body was carried away into a chamber where the masons kept their tools. Some one, out of pity, placed a lighted tallow-candle near the head; and some one else having mentioned that the room was full of rats, and that they might eat the corpse, a person was found who was willing to pay for a watcher. And after another day had elapsed, Monsignor Scotti, the majordomo, had pity upon him, and prepared him a coffin of poplar-wood, and Monsignor Segni, Canon of St. Peter's, who had been his majordomo, and whom he had dismissed, returned him good for evil, and expended five crowns for his burial."—Gregorovius.
Beneath the church are vaulted chambers, said to be part of the house of infamy where St. Agnes was publicly exposed[308] before her execution.
"As neither temptation nor the fear of death could prevail with Agnes, Sempronius thought of other means to vanquish her resistance; he ordered her to be carried by force to a place of infamy, and exposed to the most degrading outrages. The soldiers, who dragged her thither, stripped her of her garments; and when she saw herself thus exposed, she bent down her head in meek shame and prayed; and immediately her hair, which was already long and abundant, became like a veil, covering her whole person from head to foot; and those who looked upon her were seized with awe and fear as of something sacred, and dared not lift their eyes. So they shut her up in a chamber, and she prayed that the limbs which had been consecrated to Jesus Christ should not be dishonoured, and suddenly she saw before her a white and shining garment, with which she clothed herself joyfully, praising God, and saying, 'I thank thee, O Lord, that I am found worthy to put on the garment of thine elect!' and the whole place was filled with miraculous light, brighter than the sun at noon-day.
* * * * * * * *
"The chamber, which, for her preservation, was filled with heavenly light, has become, from the change of level all over Rome, as well as from the position of the church, a subterranean cell, and is now a chapel of peculiar sanctity, into which you descend by torchlight. The floor retains the old mosaic, and over the altar is a bas-relief, representing St. Agnes, with clasped hands, and covered only by her long tresses, while two ferocious soldiers drive her before them. The upper church, as a piece of architecture, is beautiful, and rich in precious marbles and antique columns. The works of art are all mediocre, and of the 17th century, but the statue over her altar has considerable elegance. Often have I seen the steps of this church, and the church itself, so crowded with kneeling worshippers at matins and vespers, that I could not make my way among them;—principally the women of the lower orders, with their distaffs and market baskets, who had come thither to pray, through the intercession of the patron saint, for the gifts of meekness and chastity,—gifts not abounding in these regions."—Jameson's Sacred Art.
Yorkshire maidens, anxious to know who their future spouse is to be, still consult St. Agnes on St Agnes' Eve, after 24 hours' abstinence from everything but pure spring water, in the distich:
Here, on the festival of St. Agnes, the papal choir sing the antiphons of the virgin saint, and the hymn "Jesu Corona Virginum."
The front of Sant' Agnese opens upon the Piazza Navona, a vast oblong square on the site of the ancient Circus Agonalis, decorated with three fountains. That in the centre, by Bernini, supports an obelisk brought from the Circus of Maxentius, where it was erected in honour of Domitian. Around the mass of rock which supports the obelisk are figures of the gods of the four largest rivers (Danube, Nile, Ganges, Rio de la Plata). That of the Nile veiled his face, said Bernini, that he might not be shocked by the façade which was added by Borromini to the Church of St Agnes.
"Bernin s'ingéra de creuser un des fameux piliers de St. Pierre pour y pratiquer un petit escalier montant à la tribune; aussitôt le dôme prit coup et se fendit. On fut obligé de le relier tout entier avec un cercle de fer. Ce n'est point raillerie, le cercle y est encore; le mal n'a pas augmenté depuis. Par malheur pour le pauvre cavalier, on trouva dans les Mémoires de Michel-Ange qu'il avait recommandé, sub pœnâ capitis, de ne jamais toucher aux quatre piliers massifs faits pour supporter le dôme, sachant de quelle masse épouvantable il allait les charger; le pape voulait faire pendre Bernin, qui, pour se rédimer, inventa la fontaine Navone."—De Brosses.
The lower fountain, also by Bernini, is adorned with tritons and the figure of a Moor. The great palace to the right of the church is the Palazzo Pamfili, built by Rainaldi for Innocent X. in 1650. It possesses a ceiling painted by Pietro di Cortona with the adventures of Eneas. Its music-hall is still occasionally used for public concerts.
It was in this palace that the notorious Olympia Maldacchini, foundress of the Pamfili fortunes, besported herself during the reign of her brother-in-law, Innocent X.
"The great object of Donna Olympia was to keep at a distance from Innocent every person and every influence that could either lessen her own, or go shares in the profits to be extracted from it. For this, after all, was the great and ultimate scope of her exertions. To secure the profits of the papacy in hard cash; this was the problem. No appointment to office of any kind was made, except in consideration of a proportionable sum paid down into her own coffers. This often amounted to three or four years' revenue of the place to be granted. Bishoprics and benefices were sold as fast as they became vacant. One story is told of an unlucky disciple of Simon, who on treating with the popess, for a very valuable see, just fallen vacant, and hearing from her a price, at which it might be his, far exceeding all he could command, persuaded the members of his family to sell all they had for the purpose of making this profitable investment. The price was paid, and the bishopric was given to him, but with a fearful resemblance to the case of Ananias, he died within the year; and his ruined family saw the see a second time sold by the insatiable and incorrigible Olympia.... During the last year of Innocent's life, Olympia literally hardly ever quitted him. Once a week, we read, she left the Vatican, secretly by night, accompanied by several porters carrying sacks of coin, the proceeds of the week's extortions and sales, to her own palace. And, during these short absences, she used to lock the pope into his chamber, and take the key with her!"—Trollope's Life of Olympia Pamfili.
On the opposite side of the piazza, some architectural fragments denote the half-ruined Church of S. Giacomo degli Spagnuoli of the fifteenth century. It possesses a gothic rose window, which is almost unique in Rome. There is a handsome door on the other side towards the Via della Sediola. The lower end of the square near this is occupied by the Palazzo Lancellotti, built by Pirro Ligorio, behind which is the frescoed front of Palazzo Massimo, mentioned above. The Piazza Navona has been used as a market ever since 1447. In the hot months, the singular custom prevails of occasionally stopping the escape of water from the fountains, and so turning the square into a lake, through which the rich splash about in carriages, and eat ices and drink coffee in the water, while the poor look on from raised galleries. It is supposed that this practice is a remnant of the pleasures of the Naumachia, once annually exhibited almost on this very spot, formerly the Circus Agonalis.
Vitale Mascardi gives an extraordinary account of the magnificent tournament held here in 1634 in honour of the visit of Prince Alexander of Poland, when the piazza was hung with draperies of gold and silver, and Donna Anna Colonna and Donna Costanza Barberini awarded gorgeous prizes of diamonds to noble and princely competitors.
Nearly opposite Sant' Agnese, a short street leads (passing on the left, Arvotti's, the famous Roman-scarf shop) to the front of the Palazzo Madama, which is sometimes said to derive its name from Margaret of Parma, daughter of Charles V., who once occupied it, and sometimes from Catherine de' Medici, who also lived here, and under whom it was altered in its present form by Paolo Marucelli. The balcony towards the piazza is the scene every Saturday at noon of the drawing of the Roman lottery.
"In the middle of the balcony, on the rail, is fixed a glass barrel, with a handle to turn it round. Behind it stand three or four officials, who have been just now ushered in with a blast from two trumpeters, also stationed in the balcony. Immediately behind the glass barrel itself stands a boy of some twelve or thirteen years, dressed in the white uniform of one of the orphan establishments, with a huge white shovel hat. Some time is occupied by the folding, and putting into the barrel, pieces of paper, inscribed with the numbers, from one onwards. Each of these is proclaimed, as folded and put in, by one of the officials who acts as spokesman or crier. At last, after eighty-seven, eighty-eight, and eighty-nine have been given out, he raises his voice to a chant, and sings forth, Numero novanta, 'number ninety,' this completing the number put in.
"And now, or before this, appears on the balcony another character—no less a person than a Monsignore, who appears, not in his ordinary, but in his more solemn official costume; and this connects the ceremonial directly with the spiritual authority of the realm. And now commences the drawing. The barrel having been for some time turned rapidly round to shuffle the numbers, the orphan takes off his hat, makes the sign of the cross, and having waved his open hand in the air to show that it is empty, inserts it into the barrel, and draws out a number, giving it to the Monsignore, who opens it and hands it to the crier. This latter then proclaims it—'Prima-estratta, numero venti cinque.' Then the trumpets blow their blast, and the same is repeated four times more: the proclamation varying each time, Seconda estratta, Terza, Quatra, Quinta, etc., five numbers being thus the whole drawn, out of ninety put in. This done, with various expressions of surprise, delight, or disappointment from the crowd below, the officials disappear, the square empties itself, and all is as usual till the next Saturday at the same time....
"In almost every street in Rome are shops devoted to the purchase of lottery tickets. Two numbers purchased with the double chance of these two numbers turning up are called an ambo, and three purchased with the treble chance of those three turning up, are called a terno, and, of course, the higher and more perilous the stake, the richer the prize, if obtained."—Alford's Letters from Abroad.
"Les étrangers qui viennent à Rome commencent par blâmer sévèrement la loterie. Au bout de quelque temps, l'esprit de tolérance qui est dans l'air pénètre peu-à-peu jusqu'au fond de leur cerveau; ils excusent un jeu philanthropique qui fournit au pauvre peuple six jours d'espérances pour cinq sous. Bientôt, pour se rendre compte du mécanisme de la loterie, ils entrent euxmêmes dans un bureau, en évitant de se laisser voir. Trois mois après, ils poursuivent ouvertement une combinaison savante; ils ont une théorie mathématique qu'ils signeraient volontiers de leur nom; ils donnent des leçons aux nouveaux arrivés; ils érigent le jeu en principe et jurent qu'un homme est impardonnable s'il ne laisse pas une porte ouverte à la Fortune."—About, Rome Contemporaine.
The court at the back of the palazzo is now occupied by the General Post Office.
Close by is the Church of S. Luigi dei Francesi, rebuilt 1589, with a façade by Giacomo della Porta. It contains a number of tombs of eminent Frenchmen who have died in Rome, and some good pictures.
Following the right aisle, the second chapel has frescoes from the life of Sta. Cecilia, by Domenichino (she gives clothes to the poor,—is crowned by an angel with her husband Valerian,—refuses to sacrifice to idols,—suffers martyrdom,—enters into heaven).
"Domenichino is often cold and studied in the principal subject, while the subordinate persons have much grace, and a noble character of beauty. Of this the two frescoes in S. Luigi at Rome, from the life of Sta. Cecilia, are striking examples. It is not the saint herself, bestowing her goods from a balcony, who contributes the chief subject, but the masterly group of poor people struggling for them below. The same may be said of the death of the saint, where the admiration and grief of the bystanders are inimitable."—Kugler.
"Reclining on a couch, in the centre of the picture, her hand pressed on her bosom, her dying eyes raised to heaven, the saint is breathing her last; while female forms, of exquisite beauty and innocence, are kneeling around, or bending over her. The noble figure of an old man, whose clasped hands and bent brow seem to bespeak a father's affection, appears on one side; and lovely children, in all the playful graces of unconscious infancy, as usual in Domenichino's paintings, by contrast heighten, yet relieve, the deep pathos of the scene. From above, an angel—such an angel as Domenichino alone knew how to paint, a cherub form of light and loveliness—is descending on rapid wing, bearing to the expiring saint the crown and palm of glory."—Eaton's Rome.
The copy of Raphael's Sta. Cecilia over the altar is by Guido. The fourth chapel has on the right frescoes by Girolamo Sicciolante, on the left by Pellegrino da Bologna, the altar-piece is by Giacomo del Conte. The fifth chapel has on the right the monument of Agincourt (ob. 1814), the famous archæologist, on the left that of Guerin the painter.
The high altar has an Assumption by Bassano.
The first chapel in the left aisle has a St. Sebastian by Massei. In the fifth chapel, of St. Matthew, three pictures by Caravaggio represent the vocation and martyrdom of that saint.
"The paintings of Caravaggio at S. Luigi belong to his most comprehensive works. The Martyrdom of St Matthew, with the angel with a palm branch squatting upon a cloud, and a boy running away, screaming, though highly animated, is an offensive production. On the other hand, the Calling of the Apostle may be considered as a genre picture of grand characteristic figures; for instance, those of the money-changers and publican at the table; some of them counting money, others looking up astonished at the entrance of the Saviour."—Kugler.
"Over the altar is St. Matthew writing his Gospel; he looks up at the attendant angel, who is behind with outspread wings, and in the act of dictating. On the left is the Calling of St. Matthew: the saint, who has been counting money, rises with one hand on his breast, and turns to follow the Saviour: an old man, with spectacles on his nose, examines with curiosity the personage whose summons has had such a miraculous effect: a boy is slyly appropriating the money which the apostle has thrown down. The third picture is the martyrdom of the saint, who, in the sacerdotal habit, lies extended on a block; while a half-naked executioner raises the sword, and several spectators shrink back with horror. There is nothing dignified or poetical in these representations; and though painted with all that power of effect which characterized Caravaggio, then at the height of his reputation, they have also his coarseness of feeling and execution: the priests were (not without reason) dissatisfied; and it required all the influence of his patron, Cardinal Giustiniani, to induce them to retain the pictures in the church where we now see them."—Jameson's Sacred Art, p. 146.
Amongst the monuments scattered over this church are those of Cardinal d'Ossat, ambassador of Henry IV.; Cardinal de la Grange d'Arquien, father-in-law of Sobieski, who died at the age of 105; Cardinal de la Trémouille, ambassador of Louis XIV.; Madame de Montmorin, with an epitaph by Chateaubriand; and Claude Lorraine, who is buried at the Trinità di Monti.
The pillars which separate the nave and aisles are of splendid Sicilian jasper. They were intended for S. Ignazio, but when the Order of the Jesuits was dissolved by Clement XIV., he presented them to S. Luigi.
The site of this church, the Palazzo Madama, and their adjoining buildings, was once occupied by the baths of Nero. They are commemorated by the name of the small church "S. Salvatore in Thermis."
In front of S. Luigi are the Palaces Patrizi and Giustiniani, and, following—to the right—the Via della Sediola, on the left is the entrance to the University of the Sapienza, founded by Innocent IV. in 1244 as a law school. Its buildings were begun by Pius III. and Julius II., and extended by Leo X. on plans of Michael Angelo. The portico was built under Gregory XIII. by Giacomo della Porta. The northern façade was erected by Borromini, with the ridiculous church (S. Ivo), built in the form of a bee to flatter Urban VIII., that insect being his device. The building is called the Sapienza, from the motto, "Initium Sapientiæ timor Domini," engraved over the window above the principal entrance. Forty professors teach here all the different branches of law, medicine, theology, philosophy, and philology.
Behind the Sapienza is the small Piazza di S. Eustachio, containing on three sides the Giustiniani, Lante, and Maccarini palaces, and celebrated for the festival of the Befana,[309] which takes place here.
"The Piazza and all the adjacent streets are lined with booths covered with every kind of plaything for children. These booths are gaily illuminated with rows of candles and the three-wick'd brass lucerne of Rome; and at intervals, painted posts are set into the pavement, crowned with pans of grease, with a wisp of tow for wick, from which flames blaze and flare about. Besides these, numbers of torches carried about by hand lend a wavering and picturesque light to the scene. By eight o'clock in the evening crowds begin to fill the piazza and the adjacent streets. Long before one arrives the squeak of penny-trumpets is heard at intervals; but in the piazza itself the mirth is wild and furious, and the din that salutes one's ears on entering is almost deafening. The object of every one is to make as much noise as possible, and every kind of instrument for this purpose is sold at the booths. There are drums beating, tamburelli thumping and jingling, pipes squeaking, watchman's rattles clacking, penny-trumpets and tin-horns shrilling, the sharpest whistles shrieking,—and mingling with these is heard the din of voices, screams of laughter, and the confused burr and buzz of a great crowd. On all sides you are saluted by the strangest noises. Instead of being spoken to, you are whistled at. Companies of people are marching together in platoons, or piercing through the crowd in long files, and dancing and blowing like mad on their instruments. It is a perfect witches' Sabbath. Here, huge dolls dressed as Polichinello or Pantaloon are borne about for sale,—or over the heads of the crowd great black-faced jumping-jacks, lifted on a stick, twitch themselves in fantastic fits,—or, what is more Roman than all, long poles are carried about strung with rings of hundreds of Giambelli (a light cake, called jumble in English), which are screamed for sale at a mezzo baiocco each. There is no alternative but to get a drum, whistle, or trumpet, and join in the racket,—and to fill one's pocket with toys for the children, and absurd presents for one's older friends. The moment you are once in for it, and making as much noise as you can, you begin to relish the jest. The toys are very odd, particularly the Roman whistles; some of these are made of pewter, with a little wheel that whirls as you blow; others are of terra-cotta, very rudely modelled into every shape of bird, beast, or human deformity, each with a whistle in its head, breast, or tail, which it is no joke to hear, when blown close to your ears by a stout pair of lungs. The scene is extremely picturesque. Above, the dark vault of night, with its far stars, the blazing and flaring of lights below, and the great, dark walls of the Sapienza and church looking down grimly upon the mirth."—Story's Roba di Roma.
The Church of S. Eustachio commemorates one, who, first a brave soldier of the army of Titus in Palestine, became master of the horse under Trajan, and general under Hadrian, and who suffered martyrdom for refusing to sacrifice to idols, by being roasted alive in a brazen bull before the Coliseum, with his wife Theophista, and his sons, Agapetus and Theophistus. The relics of these saints repose in a porphyry sarcophagus under the high altar. The stags' heads on the portico and on the apex of the gable refer to the legend of the conversion of St. Eustace.
"One day, while hunting in the forest, he saw before him a white stag, of marvellous beauty, and he pursued it eagerly, and the stag fled before him, and ascended a high rock. Then Placidus (Eustace was called Placidus before his conversion), looking up, beheld, between the horns of the stag, a cross of radiant light, and on it the image of the crucified Redeemer; and being astonished and dazzled by this vision, he fell on his knees, and a voice which seemed to come from the crucifix cried to him, and said, 'Placidus! why dost thou pursue me? I am Christ, whom thou hast hitherto served without knowing me. Dost thou now believe?' And Placidus fell with his face to the earth, and said, 'Lord, I believe!' And the voice answered, saying, 'Thou shall suffer many tribulations for my sake, and shalt be tried by many temptations; but be strong and of good courage, and I will not forsake thee.' To which Placidus replied, 'Lord, I am content. Do thou give me patience to suffer!' And when he looked up again the glorious vision had departed."—Jameson's Sacred Art, p. 792.
A similar story is told of St. Hubert, St. Julian, and St. Felix.
A fresco of St. Peter, by Pierino del Vaga, in this church, was much admired by Vasari, who dilates upon the boldness of its design, the simple folds of its drapery, its careful drawing and judicious treatment.
Two streets lead from the Piazza S. Eustachio to—
The Pantheon, the most perfect pagan building in the city, built B.C. 27, by Marcus Agrippa, the bosom friend of Augustus Cæsar, and the second husband of his daughter Julia. The inscription in huge letters, perfectly legible from beneath, "M. AGRIPPA. L. F. COS. TERTIUM FECIT," records its construction. Another inscription on the architrave, now almost illegible, records its restoration under Septimius Severus and his son Caracalla, c. 202, who, "Pantheum vetustate corruptum cum omni cultu restitverunt." Some authorities have maintained that the Pantheon was originally only a vast hall in the baths of Agrippa, acknowledged remains of which exist at no great distance; but the name "Pantheum" was in use as early as A.D. 59.
In A.D. 399 the Pantheon was closed as a temple in obedience to a decree of the Emperor Honorius, and in 608 was consecrated as a Christian church by Pope Boniface IV., with the permission of the Emperor Phocas, under the title of Sta. Maria ad Martyres. To this dedication we owe the preservation of the main features of the building, though it had been terribly maltreated. In 663 the Emperor Constans, who had come to Rome with great pretence of devotion to its shrines and relics, and who only staid there twelve days, did not scruple, in spite of its religious dedication, to strip off the tiles of gilt bronze with which the roof was covered, and carry them off with him to Syracuse, where, upon his murder, a few years after, they fell into the hands of the Saracens. In 1087 it was used by the anti-pope Guibert as a fortress, whence he made incursions upon the lawful pope, Victor III., and his protector, the Countess Matilda. In 1101, another anti-pope, Sylvester IV., was elected here. Pope Martin V., after the return from Avignon, attempted the restoration of the Pantheon by clearing away the mass of miserable buildings in which it was encrusted, and his efforts were continued by Eugenius IV., but Urban VIII. (1623—44), though he spent 15,000 scudi upon the Pantheon, and added the two ugly campaniles, called in derision "the asses' ears," of their architect, Bernini, did not hesitate to plunder the gilt bronze ceiling of the portico, 450,250 lbs. in weight, to make the baldacchino of St. Peter's, and cannons for the Castle of S. Angelo. Benedict XIV. (1740—58) further despoiled the building by tearing away all the precious marbles which lined the attic, to ornament other buildings.
The Pantheon was not originally, as now, below the level of the piazza, but was approached by a flight of five steps. The portico, which is 110 feet long and 44 feet deep, is supported by sixteen grand Corinthian columns of oriental granite, 36 feet in height. The ancient bronze doors remain. On either side are niches, once occupied by colossal statues of Augustus and Agrippa.
"Agrippa wished to dedicate the Pantheon to Augustus, but he refused, and only allowed his statue to occupy a niche on the right of the peristyle, while that of Agrippa occupied the niche on the left."—Merivale.
The Interior is a rotunda, 143 feet in diameter, covered by a dome. It is only lighted by an aperture in the centre, 28 feet in diameter. Seven great niches around the walls once contained statues of different gods and goddesses, that of Jupiter being the central figure. All the surrounding columns are of giallo-antico, except four, which are of pavonazzetto, painted yellow. It is a proof of the great value and rarity of giallo-antico, that it was always impossible to obtain more to complete the set.
"L'intérieur du Panthéon, comme l'extérieur, est parfaitement conservé, et les édicules, placés dans le pourtour du temple forment les chapelles de l'église. Jamais la simplicité ne fut alliée à la grandeur dans une plus heureuse harmonie. Le jour, tombant d'en haut et glissant le long des colonnes et des parois de marbre, porte dans l'âme un sentiment de tranquillité sublime, et donne à tous les objets, dit Serlio, un air de beauté. Vue du dehors, la coupole de plomb qui a remplacé l'ancienne coupole de bronze couverte de tuiles dorées, fait bien comprendre l'expression de Virgile, lequel l'avait sous les yeux et peut-être en vue, quand il écrivait:
... 'Media testudine templi.'
En effet, cette coupole surbaissée ressemble tout à fait à la carapace d'une tortue."—Ampère, Emp. i. 342.
"Being deep in talk, it so happened that they found themselves near the majestic, pillared portico and huge black rotundity of the Pantheon. It stands almost at the central point of the labyrinthine intricacies of the modern city, and often presents itself before the bewildered stranger when he is in search of other objects. Hilda, looking up, proposed that they should enter.
"They went in, accordingly, and stood in the free space of that great circle, around which are ranged the arched recesses and stately altars, formerly dedicated to heathen gods, but Christianized through twelve centuries gone by. The world has nothing else like the Pantheon. So grand it is, that the pasteboard statues over the lofty cornice do not disturb the effect, any more than the tin crowns and hearts, the dusty artificial flowers, and all manner of trumpery gewgaws, hanging at the saintly shrines. The rust and dinginess that have dimmed the precious marble on the walls; the pavement, with its great squares and rounds of porphyry and granite, cracked crosswise and in a hundred directions, showing how roughly the troublesome ages have trampled here; the grey dome above, with its opening to the sky, as if heaven were looking down into the interior of this place of worship, left unimpeded for prayers to ascend the more freely: all these things make an impression of solemnity, which St. Peter's itself fails to produce.
"'I think,' said Kenyon, 'it is to the aperture in the dome—that great eye, gazing heavenward—that the Pantheon owes the peculiarity of its effect. It is so heathenish, as it were—so unlike all the snugness of our modern civilization! Look, too, at the pavement directly beneath the open space! So much rain has fallen there, in the last two thousand years, that it is green with small, fine moss, such as grows over tombstones in damp English churchyards.'
"'I like better,' replied Hilda, 'to look at the bright, blue sky, roofing the edifice where the builders left it open. It is very delightful, in a breezy day, to see the masses of white cloud float over the opening, and then the sunshine fall through it again, fitfully, as it does now. Would it be any wonder if we were to see angels hovering there, partly in and partly out, with genial, heavenly faces, not intercepting the light, but transmuting it into beautiful colours? Look at that broad, golden beam—a sloping cataract of sunlight—which comes down from the aperture, and rests upon the shrine, at the right hand of the entrance.'"—Hawthorne.
... "'Entrons dans le temple,' dit Corinne: 'vous le voyez, il reste découvert presque comme il l'était autrefois. On dit que cette lumière qui venait d'en haut était l'emblème de la divinité supérieure à toutes les divinités. Les païens ont toujours aimé les images symboliques. Il semble en effet que ce langage convient mieux à la religion que la parole. La pluie tombe souvent sur ces parvis de marbre; mais aussi les rayons du soleil viennent éclairer les prières. Quelle sérénité; quel air de fête on remarque dans cet édifice! Les païens ont divinisé la vie, et les chrétiens ont divinisé la mort: tel est l'esprit des deux cultes.'"—Mad. de Staël.
"In the ancient Pantheon, when the music of Christian chaunts rises among the shadowy forms of the old vanished gods painted on the walls, and the light streams down, not from painted windows in the walls, but from the glowing heavens above, every note of the service echoes like a peal of triumph, and fills my heart with thankfulness."—Mrs. Charles.
"'Where,' asked Redschid Pasha, on his visit to the Pantheon, 'are the statues of the heathen gods?' 'Of course they were removed when the temple was Christianized,' was the natural answer. 'No,' he replied, 'I would have left them standing to show how the true God had triumphed over them in their own house."—Cardinal Wiseman.
Some antiquarians have supposed that the aperture at the top of the Pantheon was originally closed by a huge "Pigna," or pine-cone of bronze, like that which crowned the summit of the mausoleum of Hadrian, and this belief has been encouraged by the name of a neighbouring church being S. Giovanni della Pigna.
The Pantheon has become the burial-place of painters. Raphael, Annibale Caracci, Taddeo Zucchero, Baldassare Peruzzi, Pierino del Vaga, and Giovanni da Udine, are all buried here.
The third chapel on the left contains the tomb of Raphael (born April 6, 1483; died April 6, 1520). From the pen of Cardinal Bembo is the epigram:
"Raphael mourut à l'âge de 37 ans. Son corps resta exposé pendant trois jours. Au moment où l'on s'apprêtait à le descendre dans sa dernière demeure, on vit arriver le pape (Leon X.) qui se prosterna, pria quelques instants, bénit Raphael, et lui prit pour la dernière fois la main, qu'il arrosa de ses larmes (si prostrò innanzi l'estinto Rafaello et baciogli quella mano, tra le lagrime). On lui fit de magnifiques funérailles, auxquelles assistèrent les cardinaux, les artistes, &c."—A. Du Pays.
Taddeo Zucchero and Annibale Caracci are buried on either side of Raphael. Near the high altar is a monument to Cardinal Gonsalvi (1757—1824), the faithful secretary and minister of Pius VII., by Thorwaldsen. This, however, is only a cenotaph, marking the spot where his heart is preserved. His body rests with that of his beloved brother Andrew in the church of S. Marcello.
During the middle ages the pope always officiated here on the day of Pentecost, when, in honour of the descent of the Holy Spirit, showers of white rose-leaves were continually sent down through the aperture during service.
"Though plundered of all its brass, except the ring which was necessary to preserve the aperture above; though exposed to repeated fire; though sometimes flooded by the river, and always open to the rain, no monument of equal antiquity is so well preserved as this rotunda. It passed with little alteration from the pagan into the present worship; and so convenient were its niches for the Christian altar, that Michael Angelo, ever studious of ancient beauty, introduced their design as a model in the Catholic church."—Forsyth.
In the Piazza della Rotonda is a small Obelisk found in the Campus Martius.
"At a few paces from the streets where meat is sold, you will find gathered round the fountain in the Piazza della Rotonda, a number of bird-fanciers, surrounded by cages in which are multitudes of living birds for sale. Here are Java sparrows, parrots and parroquets, grey thrushes and nightingales, red-breasts (petti rossi), yellow canary-birds, beautiful sweet-singing little cardellini, and gentle ringdoves, all chattering, singing, and cooing together, to the constant splashing of the fountain. Among them, perched on stands, and glaring wisely out of their great yellow eyes, may be seen all sorts of owls, from the great solemn barbigiani, and white-tufted owl, to the curious little civetta, which gives its name to all sharp-witted heartless flirts, and the aziola, which Shelley has celebrated in one of his minor poems."—Story's Roba di Roma.
(Following the Via della Rotonda from hence, in the third street on the left is the small semicircular ruin called, from a fancied resemblance to the favourite cake of the people, Arco di Ciambella. This is the only remaining fragment of the baths of Agrippa, unless the Pantheon itself was connected with them.)
Behind the Pantheon, is the Piazza della Minerva, where a small Obelisk was erected 1667 by Bernini, on the back of an elephant. It is exactly similar to the obelisk in front of the Pantheon, and they were both found near this site, where they formed part of the decorations of the Campus Martius. The hieroglyphics show that it dates from Hophres, a king of the 25th dynasty. On the pedestal is the inscription:
One side of the piazza is occupied by the mean ugly front of the Church of Sta. Maria sopra Minerva, built in 1370 upon the ruins of a temple of Minerva founded by Pompey. It is the only gothic church in Rome of importance. In 1848—55 it was redecorated with tawdry imitation marbles, which have only a good effect when there is not sufficient light to see them. In spite of this, the interior is very interesting, and its chapels are a perfect museum of relics of art or history. The services, too, in this church were, under the papal government, exceedingly imposing, especially the procession on the night before Christmas, the mass of St. Thomas Aquinas, and that of "the white mule day." Some celebrated divine generally preaches here at 11 A.M. every morning in Lent.
Hither, on the feast of the Annunciation, comes the famous "Procession of the White Mule," when the host is borne by the grand almoner riding on the papal mule, followed by the pope in his glass coach, and a long train of cardinals and other dignitaries. Up to the time of Pius VI., it was the pope himself who rode upon the white mule, but Pius VII. was too infirm, and since his time they have given it up. But this procession has continued to be one of the finest spectacles of the kind, and has been an opportunity for a loyal demonstration, balconies being hung with scarlet draperies, and flowers showered down upon the papal coach, while the pope, on arriving and departing, has usually been received with tumultuous "evivas."
On the right of the entrance is the tomb of Diotisalvi, a Florentine knight, ob. 1482. Beginning the circuit of the church by the right aisle, the first chapel has a picture of S. Ludovico Bertrando, by Baciccio, the paintings on the pilasters being by Muziano. In the second, the Colonna Chapel, is the tomb of the late Princess Colonna (Donna Isabella Alvaria of Toledo) and her child, who both died at Albano in the cholera of 1867. The third chapel is that of the Gabrielli family. The fourth is that of the Annunciation. Over its altar is a most interesting picture, shown as a work of Fra Angelico, but more probably that of Benozzo Gozzoli. It represents Monsignore Torquemada attended by an angel, presenting three young girls to the Virgin, who gives them dowries: the Almighty is seen in the clouds. Torquemada was a Dominican Cardinal, who founded the association of the Santissima-Annunziata, which holds its meetings in this chapel, and which annually gives dowries to a number of poor girls, who receive them from the pope when he comes here in state on the 25th of March. On this occasion, the girls who are to receive the dowries are drawn up in two lines in front of the church. Some are distinguished by white wreaths. They are those who are going to "enter into religion," and who consequently receive double the dowry of the others, on the plea that "money placed in the hands of religion bears interest for the poor."
Torquemada is himself buried in this chapel, opposite the tomb, by Ambrogio Buonvicino, of his friend Urban VII., Giov. Battista Castagna, 1590,—who was pope only for eleven days.
The fifth chapel is the burial-place of the Aldobrandini family. It contains a faded Last Supper, by Baroccio.
"The Cenacolo of Baroccio, painted by order of Clement VIII. (1594), is remarkable for an anecdote relating to it. Baroccio, who was not eminent for a correct taste, had in his first sketch reverted to the ancient fashion of placing Satan close behind Judas, whispering in his ear, and tempting him to betray his master. The pope expressed his dissatisfaction,—'che non gli piaceva il demonio se dimesticasse tanto con Gesù Christo,'—and ordered him to remove the offensive figure."—Jameson's Sacred Art, p. 277.
Here are the fine tombs erected by Clement VIII. (Ippolito Aldobrandini) as soon as he obtained the papacy, to his father and mother. Their architecture is by Giacomo della Porta, but the figures are by Cordieri, the sculptor of Sta. Silvia's statue. At the sides of the mother's tomb are figures emblematical of Charity, by that of the father, figures of Humility and Vanity. Beyond his mother's tomb is a fine statue of Clement VIII. himself (who is buried at Sta. Maria Maggiore), by Ippolito Buzi.