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ROME



BY THE SAME AUTHOR

The Cities of Umbria

The Cities of Lombardy

The Cities of Romagna and the Marches

Florence and Northern Tuscany with Genoa

Siena and Southern Tuscany

Naples and Southern Italy

Venice and Venetia

Country Walks About Florence

The Cities of Spain





ST. PETERS FR<»M I'HK FAXICULUM



ROME

BY

EDWARD HUTTON



WITH 16 ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY

MAXWELL ARMFIELD

AND 12 OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS



FOURTH EDITION



METHUEN & CO. LTD.

36 ESSEX STREET W. C.

LONDON



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First Published
Second Edition
Third Edition
Fourth Edition



October jth IQ07
A ugust igro
October igu
May IQ22



CONTENTS



CHAP.

I. AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS
II. THE CAPITOL .

III. THE FORUM .

IV. THE PALATINE HILL
V. THE COLOSSEUM

VI. THE PANTHEON
VII. THE COLUMN OF TRAJAN
VIII. THE BATHS OF CARACALLA
IX. THE CATACOMBS
X. SAN CLEMENTE
XL SANTA PUDENTIANA .
XII. SANTI COSMA E DAMIANO

XIII. SANTA MARIA ANTIQUA

XIV. SANTA MARIA IN COSMEDIN
XV. SANTA PRASSEDE

XVI. SAN GIOVANNI IN LATERANO
XVII. SAN PAOLO FUORI LE MURA
XVIII. SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE
XIX. SAN LORENZO FUORI LE MURA
XX. ST. PETER'S
XXI. THE VATICAN .



PAGE
I

7
25
53
67
76
82
90

97
108
117
121
125
130

135
140

157
162

173
176

193



543361



vi



ROME



CHAP. PACK

XXII. CASTEL SANT' ANGELO . . . . 245

XXIII. SANTA MARIA AND S. CECILIA IN TRASTEVERE . 258

XXIV. SANTA MARIA MINERVA .... 266
XXV. THE AVENTINE HILL .... 270

XXVI. THE CCELIAN HILL ..... 280

XXVII. THE PINCIO . . . . . .292

XXVIII. THE JANICULUM ..... 299

XXIX. THE GALLERIES OF SCULPTURE . . . 304

XXX. THE FOUNTAINS . . . . 3 l8

XXXI. THE PALACES AND VILLAS . . . • 3 2 4

XXXIL THE CAMPAGNA . . . . • 334



INDEX .



339



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS



IN COLOUR

ST. PETER'S FROM THE JANICULUM

THE CAPITOL FROM THE FORUM

THE FORUM, EARLY MORNING

RUINS ON THE PALATINE .

CYPRESSES ON THE PALATINE

THE COLOSSEUM

THE TOMB OF CAECILIA METELLA

SANTA MARIA IN COSMEDIN

THE ENGLISH CEMETERY

THE SABINE HILLS .

THE CASTEL SANT' ANGELO

THE TIBER ISLAND .

THE WALLS OF ROME

ROME FROM TASSO'S OAK .

THE VILLA BORGHESE .

BOSCO SACRO, CAMPAGNA .



. Frontispiece
facing page 8
26
54
64
72

94

( 130

158

174
246
258
278
302
33o
334



IN MONOTONE

MAP FROM A DRAWING BY B. C BOULTER, Front end-paper
STATUE OF MARCUS AURELIUS . . facing page IO



Vlll



ROME



CASTEL SANT' ANGELO

STUART MONUMENT IN ST PETER'i

'THE TEMPTATION,' BY MICHELA
CHAPEL .

SANTO STEFANO ROTONDO .

THE THRONE OF VENUS

TORSO OF APHRODITE

THE ACQUA PAOLINA

PALAZZO GIRAUD-TORLONIA 1 496

VILLA MEDICI

'SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE,' BY
BORGHESE

VIA APPIA



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ROME



AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS

IT was on an April evening in my earliest manhood,
as I stood on the vast bastion of the Janiculum
in the sudden silence of the hour after the sunset —
Rome was looking terrible as a crater under the con-
flagration of the sky — that I seemed to realise for the
first time the true aspect of a place so augustly familiar,
which, as Dante has perceived, Nature herself has
formed for universal dominion — ad universaliter ftrinci-
pandum — and out of which has risen all Europe and
our Faith, all that is really worth having in the world.

It was my last evening in Rome. On the morrow
I was to return to the North. All day I had wandered
aimlessly about looking for my lost illusions, till, weary
at last, I had come towards evening to sit beside the
parapet of the Janiculum, turning all things over in
my heart as I watched the sun set over the City. How
well I remember it !

It seems to me that I was but a child then,
that I had believed in everything, and was al-
together discouraged and dismayed, for Rome had
been like a stranger to me. With an incredible
loyalty I had dreamed of her in the North (shall I
confess it ?) as the city of Horatius, of the Gracchi,



2 / " ..ROME

of Scipio Africanus, of Sulla and Marius, of Caesar,
of that spiritual Caesar, too, who for so many ages
has appointed there his dwelling, communing with
the Eternal in an eternal place. And I had found
instead a new city spoiled by old things, full of
all the meanness and ugliness of modern life, the rush
and noise of electric trams, even in the oldest and
narrowest ways, a place of change and destruction.

Take heart, I had continually told myself, even on
the first morning beside the imprisoned Tiber bridged
with iron, among the new slums about the Vatican,
in the brickfield of the Forum : take heart, the Capitol
remains. Therefore, not without thankfulness,
eagerly, not without joy, I had made my way along
the ruined Corso to the Piazza Venezia.

Well, I had rejoiced too soon. I was prepared for
destruction. Every newspaper in Christendom had
wedded the modern Roman with the Vandal and the
Hun. I was prepared for destruction, but for destruc-
tion heaped on destruction, for a rascal impudence
that might put Phocas to shame, I confess it at once,
I was not prepared. Nor is it easy for me to tell of
what I saw. For there, where long and long ago the
Temple of Juno passed into the gentler dominion of
Madonna Mary, the modern barbarian had raised
indeed a fitting monument to his king, who resembles
great Caesar in this alone that in the heaven of the
populace he has become divine. Was it a temple
or a tomb, that ghastly erection of ghostly stone, that,
standing on a ruined convent, seemed to bellow like
Behemoth, trusting that it might draw not Jordan,
but Rome into its mouth ? Indeed, the conquerors of
Rome so often mere bandits, as we know, have ever



AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS 3

sought to dominate the imagination of the multitude
by the enormity of their buildings : the policy of the
Caesars was the policy of the Popes. It has remained,
however, I told myself, for the kingdom of Italy to
surpass both Caesar and Pope in vulgarity, rapacity,
and insolence : so hard a thing. Yet this ridiculous
Colossus, thought I, founded on a raped convent,
stands there as the monument of the third Rome,
which, having so unfortunately outlived both Caesar
and Pope, bows down at last before the inimitable
image of this Switzer a-horseback.

It was these things, I remember, that rose before me
at the close of my last day in the City as I waited
for the sunset by the parapet of the Janiculum. So
that I said in my heart : Rome is not any more
immortal ; all that is gone for ever. It is finished.
Let us pass by and be silent.

Nevertheless, it was in this moment of despair, of
denial, that I began to understand.

An incredible majesty had descended upon the
City and the hills. Little by little that far horizon,
glorious with mountains, was hidden in the grey even-
ing ; the desert of the Campagna was changed into
a vast shadow ; like a snake of sullen gold the Tiber
crept through the twilight into the darkness and the
sea ; only the City loomed out of the night like some
mysterious and lovely symbol, a visible gesture of
the infinite, decisive and affirmative, never to be
recalled or modified.

The material world, that close, impassable prison,
seemed just then to be dissolving before my eyes, and
it was as though in the silence I had heard again
those words, so full of assurance and all gladness :



4 ROME

Sed confidite, Ego vici mundum : Be of good cheer,
I have overcome the world. And all my heart was
changed suddenly, and in a moment I was comforted.

But that was long ago. To-day as I look down
on Rome in the long summer that is so quiet still
within her walls — is it that I have grown wiser,
or may be only older ? — I find her immortality not
alone in the continuity of Nature or in such a vision
as that of which I have spoken, but in the City herself,
in the life of the City I have come in some dim way
to understand and to reconcile with my dreams. And,
yes, it is true, Ave Roma Immortalis is for me no longer
merely a greeting of love, but the expression of a fact
that, little by little, has impressed itself upon me till I
recognise it at every turn of the road, at every moment
of the day. I feel the eternity of Rome as I feel the
brief sweetness of every passing moment there : she
seems to me as eternal and persistent as life, as
strangely various, as mysteriously secret. In her
name is married domination and love, roma-amor,
which none may ever divide or separate ; they smile
at one everywhere, indissolubly one, confounded in
her, yes, even in the Forum, where in a ruined temple
of the Empire there is a ruined church of the Middle
Age cheek by jowl with a Renaissance or Baroque
building amid the wildflowers of our spring.

You think that a kind of materialism chiefly rhe-
torical ? Very likely. But at least let me remind
you that it is not only in the stones of the City that
old and new are confounded in her life. Consider
then the Paganism of her religion, of what she has
made, after all so finely, of Christianity. Call to mind
what you have seen in S. Maria in Aracoeli, in S.



AV£ ROMA IMMORTALIS 5

Teodoro, above all in S. Agostino. No, it is the
ages that pass away ; Rome remains.

You, too, in your youth, perhaps, have come to
her this very day, and are distressed and bewildered
even as I was by her bizarre aspect, her confusion and
noise : perhaps even something terrible about her,
never to be understood or reconciled with your thoughts
of her, has brought tears to your eyes.

Consider awhile. Was she not ever Cosmopolis ?
That babel you hear in the Forum any spring morning,
Horace heard it too, and Aurelius, and S. Austin.
It might seem, if you can but bear to think it, that
Rome was never so true to herself as she is to-day.
Her very eccentricities confound her with her past.
That strange desire and eagerness to build, now every-
where visible there, how damnable it seems, yet
what is it after all but the old necessity of Emperor
and Pope to impress the people, to touch the imagina-
tion of the crowd in whom, not less or otherwise
than the new monarchy, they lived and moved and
had their being ?

And the destruction ? But she lives by it ; it is
her oldest secret. The vandalism of the Caesars
became the vandalism of the Popes and is now the
vandalism of the modern kingdom. You think the
monument to Victor Emmanuel merely the result
of the vulgarity and insolence of our times ? Even
so, I am with you. But it is the successor of Nero's
Golden House and of S. Peter's Church, nor, though
its victims have been so many and so precious, may
they compare with what those demanded ; and since
it promises to be the least beautiful of the three, it
need not be the most lasting. For Rome is never per-



6 ROME

fected, but is always in transformation. Her life is
as various as our own, responding, if you can but see
it, to every mood of your heart. It is thus that she
is the most human of cities — not the city of the soul,
perhaps, as Byron called her, for the soul has here
no place of abiding, but certainly the city of man who
persists and lives by destruction and is never satisfied.

Who can tell her age, or prophesy when she shall
be no more ? For the advent of Romulus was not
her natal day, nor the death of Augustulus her funeral.
She was before Evander came, and has outlived the
Romans by more than a millennium. As her begin-
ning is hidden from us, so is her end.

In this, too, is her eternity, that men have always
longed for her as for an insatiable mistress. She is the
hope of the world and its despair : her life is a con-
suming fire that none may quench. Yet it is this
which, like true idolaters, we have thought to find
in the Forum among her discarded stocks and stones,
disturbing even the profoundest sleep to discover the
secret of her immortality. O Foolishness ! we have
questioned the dead, and in the unbreakable silence
have heard only the falling of dust on dust ; but she
is singing in the byways of the City, and her hands are
clasped in ours.



II

THE CAPITOL

TO climb up to the Capitol to-day past the
Trophies of Marius, between the statues of
the Dioscuri into the Piazza built at the suggestion
of Michelangelo, as a great and splendid chamber, one
might think, for the equestrian statue of Marcus
Aurelius, is to come into a world of ghosts, of ghosts
which have always ruled the world. In spite of its
fame, perhaps even because of it, the Capitol has
kept nothing of its antiquity, save the Gemonian
steps and a few ruined boulders of the Tabularium.
Before you is the Palazzo del Senatore a foundation
of Boniface in 1389, which in the hands of Michelangelo
and Sixtus v. became the modern building we now see.
To the left is the Capitoline Museum built for the most
part under Innocent x., after a design by Michelangelo,
while to the right is the Palazzo dei Conservatori, a
foundation of Nicholas v., rebuilt, again in the manner
of Michelangelo, under Pius iv. in 1564. Nothing at
all remains of the time of the Republic or the Empire ;
only in the midst of the Piazza formed by these three
palaces rides the philosophic Emperor as though in
stoic contemplation, a ghost in the midst of ghosts, as
it were an exile in his own city. The most famous
spot in the world you might think has become nothing
but a vast museum.

7



8 ROME

It is the same with the hills that on either hand
tower over the Piazza, the true Capitolium to the right,
the dwelling-place of Jupiter CapitoHnus, which has
returned to something of its primitive wildness of
which Virgil speaks :

Aurea nunc, olim silvestribus horrida dumis.

and to the left the Arx, the sacred citadel of Rome,
beside which stood the temple of Juno Moneta — Juno
of warning, where Christianity has built a shrine to
Madonna. And yet in spite of the absence of any
building of the Rome of antiquity, it is chiefly of her
you think amid the work of the Middle Age, of the
Renaissance, of the world of to-day, that so strangely,
it seems, at first at any rate, everywhere confronts
you there on the caput and citadel of the world.
Little by little, however, as you linger there you come
to understand that as everywhere in Rome, you
cannot divide the old from the new, nor Antiquity
from the Middle Age, nor either from the modern
world. In her immortal life the one has proceeded
from the other, and was not made nor created anew.
They were moods, as it were, of the City : nor can we
say of anything eternal that it was young and grows
old. For as a melody is lost in a melody, so in her
everliving soul antiquity passed into mediaevalism,
into modernity, each following other in perfect and
lovely sequence ; and the last is there because of the
first, the new because of the old.

And since this is the life of Rome, we shall find it
perfectly expressed on the Capitol which has always,
as it were, summed up the City and served for the
whole world as a symbol of it. Because it was here



THE CAPITOL FROM THK FOR I'M



;-






THE CAPITOL 9

that Curtius died for the people, that Tiberius
Gracchus fell in their cause, and Marcus Brutus, after
the death of Caesar, spoke in defence of the Republic
and his crime, therefore in the Middle Age it was
on the Capitol that Arnold of Brescia, Stefaneschi of
Trastevere, Cola di Rienzo and Stefano Porcari would
have proclaimed the Republic ; and because of all
these things it is there Italy has to-day set up her
monument to him in whom, when all is said, she found
again both unity and freedom.

It is true that the mere material continuity in brass
and stone is not so manifest. Yet the bare fact that
over and over again everything that has been built
here has been swept away is indicative at least of the
passionate love that has always surged around this
hill. If in the Middle Age the home of the Senator
was set here, it was not by chance ; for the Capitol
has always been the citadel of the Republicanism of
the people, that, smouldering all through the Middle
Age and the Renaissance, is even yet by no means
extinguished. In some sort the Senator may still
be said to dwell here on the Capitol, and the Palazzo
dei Conservatori is even yet the meeting-place of the
ancients of Rome, while in the Capitoline Museum
opposite to it, the Romans have for ages placed their
most precious possessions, those statues in marble
and bronze carved or cast by their ancestors which
of old adorned the Forum or the Palaces of the Caesars.

It was Michelangelo, himself a passionate Re-
publican and always so unwillingly the servant of
princes, who brought hither the most priceless treasure
of the City, that equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius,
in gilded bronze, creating for it a magnificent chamber,



10 ROME

fairer far, we may believe, than that we see, which
was contrived out of his design by his disciples. The
statue is indeed a stranger here where it seems so
perfectly in place, for of old it stood before the Arch
of Septimius Severus in the Forum, till Sergius in.,
struck by its beauty perhaps, and looking for a cham-
pion, thinking it was Constantine, placed it in front of
the Later an Palace. That was in the first years of the
tenth century. Then towards the end of the same
century, when there seemed to all but a reprieve
of less than forty years before the Day of Judgment,
the end of the world, the Emperor Otho the Great
set John xm. on the Throne of the Fisherman
against the popular will. The Barons, as always,
ready for any excuse, roused the City, the Captains
of the Regions, led by the Prior Peter the Prefect,
followed them, and seizing Pope John out of the
Lateran threw him into Castel S. Angelo, driving him
at last to exile in Campania, till Conte Goffredo, the
head and front of the mischief, being murdered, they
set the Pope at liberty, who returned to Rome. Then
came the Emperor at Christmas time to do justice
on the Roman people. And he took the Captains of
the Regions and hanged twelve of them, and Peter
the Prefect he bound naked on an ass and set an
earthen jar on his head and had him flogged through
the City. And when he was dead he hung his body
— what was left of it — by the hair to the head of the
great bronze horse, on which, as he thought, Con-
stantine rode before the Lateran, that all might see
his justice on his enemies.

Called by the pilgrims Theodoric, by the people
Quintus Curtius, and by the clergy Constantine, it




Photo. Anderson



MARCUS AURELIUS



THE CAPITOL n

stood for more than five hundred years before the
Lateran after it had served Otho for a gallows. It
was ever held in veneration by all, and in the wild joy
of the Tribunate of Rienzo the people filled the bronze
belly of the horse with wine and water, so that water
flowed from one of its nostrils and wine from the
other. So greatly was it held in honour that though
Michelangelo and the Pope had long wished to remove
it from before the Lateran to its present position here
on the Capitol, the Canons in whose care it was were
only won to consent in 1538, demanding in acknow-
ledgment of their rights payment from the Senators.
So every year a bunch of flowers was and is still
presented by the City to the Chapter : a custodian
' Custode del Cavallo ' being appointed with a salary
of ten scudi annually to guard it. And so well did
Michelangelo understand the ever-living City, that he
was not ashamed to make the pedestal out of one of
the pillars of the Temple of the Dioscuri.

It is not, however, in the Piazza — that valley
between the true Capitol and the Arx — that alone or
even chiefly perhaps, we meet those ghosts which,
haunting indeed the whole City, here more than else-
where press upon us insistently, company by company.
Climbing up past the Piazza dei Conservatori to the
Tarpeian rock, Capitoli immobile saxum, we came upon
that spot which for Virgil was the holiest in the
City.

* Hoc nemus, hunc' inquit 'frondoso vertice collem
(quis Deus incertum est) habitat Deus : Arcades ipsum
credunt se vidisse Iovem, cum saepe nigrantem
aegida concuteret dextra nimbosque cieret.
Haec duo praeterea disiectis oppida muris,
reliquias veterumque vides monumenta virorurm



12 ROME

Hanc Ianus pater, hanc Saturnus condidit arcem :
Ianiculum huic, illi fuerat Saturnia nomen.'

So Evander tells Aeneas, showing him the City. And
indeed it was here that Saturn himself reigned in the
Golden Age, before the Titans broke out of the custody
of Orcus, and, piling Pelion on Ossa, scaled Olympus.
When the corn was sown and reaped on the hillside
and there was a plenty for all, before war was born or
any man thought to go armed, was it not up this hill
they would pass, those fortunate folk singing at
evening ? Till one day Evander came from the
Palatine across the marsh with Aeneas and showed
him Saturnia in ruin. The Golden Age was over :
but the hill bore the name Saturnus till the time of
the Tarquins.

And after Aeneas was dead Romulus came hither,
and, finding the place a forest of ilex, hoping for men,
established there a refuge for slaves who were fugitive,
and after the rape of the Sabine girls he built there a
Temple not to peaceful Saturn, but to the God of
spoils, Jupiter Feretrius. 1 Not much later the Sab-
ines in revenge for the rape, under their king Titus
Tatius, seized the fortress on the other height, not by
valour, but by the wiles of a woman, Tarpeia, who
loved the gold on the arms of the Sabine youths and
felt too soon the weight of it.

Dimly from very far off, sometimes when I have
waited there alone in that lonely place the coming of
twilight, I have seemed to see her still, Tarpeia,
priestess of Vesta, daughter of Spurius the Captain,
as she came at sunset, straight and slim as a reed,

1 Some think that this first temple of Jupiter was on the other height.



THE CAPITOL 13

singing too, down the steep way to the valley, the
earthen jar on her black head, to bring spring
water for the evening sacrifice. Unharmed for all
the war and vengeance, for she served that Goddess
who had no statue but was living fire, who was served
with bare feet, she came slowly, dreamily down the
hillside in the sunset, and found Titus Tatius beside
the fountain — drinking. It was the golden bracelet
on his arm that she desired, as he saw doubtless
in a moment. He gave it her, and shyly she
took it.

1 Is it for me/ she said, desire in her eyes, ' this that
you wear on your left arm ? ' for she knew not the
name of gold. And he answered, ' Give me the
fortress to-night ; and not only I but all of us will
give you . . . what we wear on our left arms/ Well,
if she were a traitor, he lied : yet it was she paid for
all.

And it was so. For that night the Sabines went
up stealthily to the gate, and Tatius led them. Then
she who had forsworn her people opened to them — -
the gate was on the height above the arch of Septimius
Severus — and Tatius as he passed struck her down
under the weight of that which he bore on his left arm,
but it was a shield ; and as they entered each did
likewise. * So perish all traitors ! ' said they doubtless.
And when they had taken the city, they buried her
at dawn under the rock that bears her name. But as
they tell you, imprisoned in the hill, she sits there weep-
ing to this day. And when Tatius was dead Romulus
once more seized the Capitol and there Numa
Pompilius, his successor, who founded the Roman
religion, built a Temple to Fides Publica.



H ROME

It was Tarnuinius Superbus, the last king of Rome,
who about 535 B.C. built the great Temple his father
had vowed to Jupiter on the Capitol. He began it
with the spoil of the Volscian war, and it was in
digging the foundation, as it is said, that that sign
was found which named the hill and promised, as was
foretold by the Augurs, the lordship of Italy to Rome —
a human head, still bloody. The proud king, however,



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