Amphitheatres.
The deficiency of theatres erected by the Romans is far more than compensated by the number and splendour of their amphitheatres, which, with their baths, may be considered as the true types of Roman art, although it is possible that they derived this class of public buildings from the Etruscans. At Sutrium there is a very noble one cut out of the tufa rock,[[179]] which was no doubt used by that people for festal representations long before Rome attempted anything of the kind. It is uncertain whether gladiatorial fights or combats of wild beasts formed any part of the amusements of the arena in those days, though boxing, wrestling, and contests of that description certainly did; but whether the Etruscans actually proceeded to the shedding of blood and to slaughter is more than doubtful.
Even in the remotest parts of Britain, in Germany and Gaul, wherever we find a Roman settlement, we find the traces of their amphitheatres. Their soldiery, it seems, could not exist without the enjoyment of seeing men engaged in doubtful and mortal combats—either killing one another, or torn to pieces by wild beasts. It is not to be wondered at that a people who delighted so much in the bloody scenes of the arena should feel but very little pleasure in the mimic sorrows and tame humour of the stage. The brutal exhibition of the amphitheatre fitted them, it is true, to be a nation of conquerors, and gave them the empire of the world, but it brought with it feelings singularly inimical to all the softer arts, and was perhaps the great cause of their ultimate debasement.
211. Elevation and Section of part of the Flavian Amphitheatre at Rome. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.
212. Quarter-plan of the Seats and quarter-plan of the Basement of the Flavian Amphitheatre. No scale.
As might be expected, the largest and most splendid of these buildings is that which adorns the capital; and of all the ruins which Rome contains, none have excited such universal admiration as the Flavian Amphitheatre. Poets, painters, rhapsodists, have exhausted all the resources of their arts in the attempt to convey to others the overpowering impression this building produces on their own minds. With the single exception, perhaps, of the Hall at Karnac, no ruin has met with such universal admiration as this. Its association with the ancient mistress of the world, its destruction, and the half-prophetic destiny ascribed to it, all contribute to this. In spite of our better judgment we are forced to confess that
“The gladiators’ bloody circus stands
A noble wreck in ruinous perfection,”
and worthy of all or nearly all the admiration of which it has been the object. Its interior is almost wholly devoid of ornament, or anything that can be called architecture—a vast inverted pyramid. The exterior does not possess one detail which is not open to criticism, and indeed to positive blame. Notwithstanding all this, its magnitude, its form, and its associations, all combine to produce an effect against which the critic struggles in vain. Still, all must admit that the pillars and their entablature are useless and are added incongruously, and that the upper storey, not being arched like the lower, but solid, and with ugly pilasters, is a painful blemish. This last defect is so striking that, in spite of the somewhat dubious evidence of medals, I should feel inclined to suspect that it was a subsequent addition, and meant wholly for the purpose of supporting and working the great velarium or awning that covered the arena during the representation, which may not have been attempted when the amphitheatre was first erected.
Be this as it may, it certainly now very much mars the effect of the building. The lower storeys are of bad design, but this is worse. But notwithstanding these defects, there is no building of Rome where the principle of reduplication of parts, of which the Gothic architects afterwards made so much use, is carried to so great an extent as in this. The Colosseum is principally indebted to this feature for the effect which it produces. Had it, for instance, been designed with only one storey of the height of the four now existing, and every arch had consequently been as wide as the present four, the building would have scarcely appeared half the size it is now seen to be. For all this, however, when close under it, and comparing it with moving figures and other objects, we could scarcely eventually fail to realise its wonderful dimensions. In that case, a true sense of the vast size of the building would have had to be acquired, as is the case with the façade of St. Peter’s. Now it forces itself on the mind at the first glance. It is the repetition of arch beyond arch and storey over storey that leads the mind on, and gives to this amphitheatre its imposing grandeur, which all acknowledge, though few give themselves the trouble to inquire how this effect is produced.
Fortunately, too, though the face of the building is much cut up by the order, the entablatures are unbroken throughout, and cross the building in long vanishing lines of the most graceful curvatures. The oval, also, is certainly more favourable for effect than a circular form would be. A building of this shape may perhaps look smaller than it really is to a person standing exactly opposite either end; but in all other positions the flatter side gives a variety and an appearance of size, which the monotonous equality of a circle would never produce.
The length of the building, measured over all along its greatest diameter, is 620 ft., its breadth 513, or nearly in the ratio of 6 to 5, which may be taken as the general proportion of these buildings, the variations from it being slight, and apparently either mistakes in setting out the work in ancient times, or in measuring it in modern days, rather than an intentional deviation. The height of the three lower storeys, or of what I believe to have been the original building, is 120 ft.; the total height as it now stands is 157 ft. The arena itself measures 287 ft. in length by 180 in breadth. The whole area of the building has been calculated to contain 250,000 square feet, of which the arena contains 40,000; then deducting 10,000 for the external wall, 200,000 square feet will remain available for the audience. If we divide this by 5,[[180]] which is the number of square feet it has been found necessary to allow for each spectator in modern places of amusement, room will be afforded for 40,000 spectators; at 4 feet, which is a possible quantity, with continuous seats and the scant drapery of the Romans, the amphitheatre might contain 50,000 spectators at one time.
The area of the supports has also been calculated at about 40,000 square feet, or about one-sixth of the whole area; which for an unroofed edifice of this sort[[181]] is more than sufficient, though the excess accounts for the stability of the building.
Next in extent to this great metropolitan amphitheatre was that of Capua; its dimensions were 558 ft. by 460; its height externally 95 ft. It had three storeys, designed similarly to those of the Colosseum, but all of the Doric order, and used with more purity than in the Roman example.
Next in age, though not in size, is that at Nîmes, 430 ft. by 378, and 72 in height, in two storeys. Both these storeys are more profusely and more elegantly ornamented with pillars than those of either of the amphitheatres mentioned above. The entablature is however broken over each column, and pediments are introduced on each front. All these arrangements, though showing more care in design and sufficient elegance in detail, make this building very inferior in grandeur to the two earlier edifices, whose simplicity of outline makes up, to a great extent, for their faults of detail.
A more beautiful example than this is that at Verona. Its dimensions are 502 ft. by 401, and 98 ft. high, in three storeys beautifully proportioned. Here the order almost entirely disappears to make way for rustication, showing that it must be considerably more modern than either of the three examples above quoted, though hardly so late as the time of Maximianus, to whom it is frequently ascribed.[[182]] The arena of this amphitheatre is very nearly perfect, owing to the care taken of it during the Middle Ages, when it was often used for tournaments and other spectacles; but of its outer architectural enclosure only four bays remain, sufficient to enable an architect to restore the whole, but not to allow of its effect being compared with that of more entire examples.
The amphitheatre at Pola, which is of about the same age as that of Verona, and certainly belonging to the last days of the Western Empire, presents in its ruin a curious contrast to the other. That at Verona has a perfect arena and only a fragment of its exterior decoration, while the exterior of Pola is perfect, but not a trace remains of its arena, or of the seats that surrounded it. This is probably owing to their having been of wood, and consequently having either decayed or been burnt. Like that at Verona, it presents all the features of the last stage of transition; the order is still seen, or rather is everywhere suggested, but so concealed and kept subordinate that it does not at all interfere with the general effect. But for these faint traces we should possess in this amphitheatre one specimen entirely emancipated from incongruous Grecian forms, but, as before remarked, Rome perished when just on the threshold of the new style.
213. Elevation of the Amphitheatre at Verona. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.
The dimensions of the amphitheatre at Pola are very nearly the same as of that at Nîmes, being 436 ft. by 346. It has, however, three storeys, and thus its height is considerably greater, being 97 ft. Owing to the inequality of the ground on which it is built, the lower storey shows the peculiarity of a sub-basement, which is very pleasingly managed, and appears to emancipate it more from conventional forms than is the case with its contemporary at Verona. The third storey, or attic, is also more pleasing than elsewhere, as it is avowedly designed for the support of the masts of the velarium. The pilasters and all Greek forms are omitted, and there is only a groove over every column of the middle storey to receive the masts. There is also a curious sort of open battlement on the top, evidently designed to facilitate the working of the awning, though in what manner is not quite clear. There is still one other peculiarity about the building, the curvature of its lines is broken by four projecting wings, intended apparently to contain staircases; in a building so light and open as this one is in its present state there can be no doubt but that the projections give expression and character to the outline, though such additions would go far to spoil any of the greater examples above quoted.
At Otricoli there is a small amphitheatre, 312 ft. by 230, in two storeys, from which the order has entirely disappeared; it is therefore possibly the most modern of its class, but the great flat pilasters that replace the pillars are ungraceful and somewhat clumsy. Perhaps its peculiarities ought rather to be looked on as provincialisms than as genuine specimens of an advanced style. Still there is a pleasing simplicity about it that on a larger scale would enable it to stand comparison with some of its greater rivals.
Besides these, which are the typical examples of the style, there are the “Castrense” at Rome, nearly circular, and possessing all the faults and none of the beauties of the Colosseum; one at Arles, very much ruined; and a great number of provincial ones, not only in Italy and Gaul, but in Germany and Britain. Almost all these were principally if not wholly excavated from the earth, the part above-ground being the mound formed by the excavation. If they ever possessed any external decoration to justify their being treated as architectural objects, it has disappeared, so that in the state at least in which we now find them they do not belong to the ornamental class of works of which we are at present treating.