FOOTNOTES:
[11] Mineralogists affirm that these lions are not of basalt, because the volcanic stone to-day known under that name could not have existed in Egypt; but as Pliny calls the Egyptian stone out of which these lions have been carved, basalt, and as Winckelmann, the historian of the arts, also retains this appellation, I have deemed myself justified in using it in its primitive acceptation.
"Carpite nunc, tauri, de septem collibus herbas,
Dum licet. Hic magnæ jam locus urbis erit."
Tibullus.
"Hoc quodcunque vides hospes quam maxima Roma est,
Ante Phrygem Enean collis et herba fuit."
Propertius, Book IV. el. 1.
[13] Roma domus fiet: Veios migrate, Quirites; Si non et Veios occupat ista domus.
[14] Mounts Citorio and Testacio.
[15] The Janicula, Mount Vaticano and Mount Mario.
Chapter v.
After the excursion to the Capitol and the Forum, Corinne and Nelville spent two days in visiting the Seven Hills. The Romans formerly observed a festival in honour of them. These hills, enclosed in her bosom, are one of the original beauties of Rome; and we may easily conceive what delight was experienced by feelings attached to their native soil, in celebrating this singularity.
Oswald and Corinne, having seen the Capitoline Hill the day before, began their walks by Mount Palatine; it was entirely occupied by the palace of the Cæsars, called the golden palace. This hill offers nothing to our view, at present, but the ruins of that palace. The four sides of it were built by Augustus Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero; but the stones, covered with fertile plants, are all that now remain of it: Nature has there resumed her empire over the labours of man, and the beauty of the flowers consoles us for the destruction of the palace. The luxury of the times of the kings and of the Republic only consisted in public edifices; private houses were very small, and very simple. Cicero, Hortensius, and the Gracchi, dwelt upon Mount Palatine, which, at the decline of Rome, was scarcely sufficient for the abode of a single man. In the latter ages, the nation was nothing more than an anonymous crowd, merely designated by the era of its master. We look in vain here for the two laurels planted before the door of Augustus, the laurel of war, and that of the fine arts cultivated by peace; both have disappeared.
There is still remaining, on Mount Palatine, some chambers of the Baths of Livia; we are there shown the holes which contained the precious stones that were then lavished upon ceilings, as a common ornament, and paintings are to be seen there whose colours are yet perfectly untouched; the fragility of the colours adds to our astonishment at seeing them preserved, and seems to carry us back nearer to past ages. If it be true that Livia shortened the days of Augustus, it is in one of these rooms that the crime was conceived, and the eyes of the sovereign of the world, betrayed in his most intimate affections, were perhaps fixed upon one of those pictures whose elegant flowers still remain[16]. What, in old age, were his thoughts upon his life and his pomp? Did he recall to mind his proscriptions or his glory? Did he hope, or did he fear a world to come? Does the last thought, which reveals everything to man; does the last thought of a master of the universe still wander beneath these vaults?
Mount Aventine offers more traces than any other of the first periods of the Roman History. Exactly opposite the Palace, raised by Tiberius, we see the ruins of the Temple of Liberty, which was built by the father of the Gracchi. At the foot of Mount Aventine stood the temple dedicated to the Fortune of men by Servius Tullius, to thank the gods for having raised him from the condition of a slave to the rank of a king. Without the walls of Rome we find also the ruins of a temple, which was consecrated to the Fortune of women when Veturia stopped the progress of Coriolanus. Opposite Mount Aventine is Mount Janicula, on which Porsenna placed his army. It was opposite this Mount that Horatius Cocles caused the bridge leading to Rome to be cut away behind him. The foundation of this bridge is still to be seen; there stands on the bank of the river a triumphal arch, built of brick, as simple as the action which it recalls was grand; this arch having been raised, it is said, in honour of Horatius Cocles. In the middle of the Tiber is perceived an island formed of sheaves of corn gathered in the fields of Tarquin, which were a long time exposed on the river because the Roman people would not take them, believing that they should entail bad fortune on themselves by so doing. It would be difficult in our days to cast a malediction upon riches of any sort which could prevent everybody from seizing them.
On Mount Aventine were placed the temple of patrician, and that of plebeian modesty. At the foot of this hill is seen the temple of Vesta, which yet remains whole, though it has been often menaced by the inundations of the Tiber. Not far from thence is the ruin of a prison for debt, where it is said a fine trait of filial piety was displayed, which is pretty generally known. It was also in this place that Clelia and her companions, prisoners of Porsenna, crossed the Tiber in order to rejoin the Romans. This Aventine Mount affords the soul repose after the painful reflections which the other hills awaken, and its aspect is as beautiful as the memories it recalls. The name of Pulchrum Littus, Beautiful Shore, was given to the banks of the river, which rolls at its foot, which was the walk of the Roman orators when they quitted the forum—it was there that Cæsar and Pompey met like private citizens, and sought to captivate Cicero whose independent eloquence was then of more importance to them than even the power of their armies.
Poetry too lends its aid to embellish this retreat; Virgil has placed the cavern of Cacus upon Mount Aventine, and the Romans, so great by their history, are still more so by the heroic fictions with which the bards have decorated their fabulous origin. Lastly, in returning from this mountain is seen the house of Nicholas Rienzi, who vainly endeavoured to revive ancient times among the moderns, and this memento, feeble as it is, by the side of so many others, gives birth to much reflection. Mount Cælius is remarkable because there we behold the remains of the Prætorian camp, and that of the foreign soldiers. This inscription has been found in the ruins of the edifice built for the reception of these soldiers:—"To the hallowed genius of foreign camps!" Hallowed indeed, for those whose power it maintained! What remains of these ancient barracks, enables us to judge that they were built after the manner of cloisters, or rather, that cloisters have been built upon their model.
Mount Esquiline was called the Poets' Mount, because Mecenas having his palace on this hill, Horace, Propertius and Tibullus dwelt there also. Not far from here are the ruins of the Thermæ of Titus, and of Trajan. It is believed that Raphael took the model of his arabesques from the fresco paintings of the Thermæ of Titus. It is there, also, that was discovered the group of the Laocoon. The freshness of water affords such pleasure in hot countries that delight is taken in assembling together all the pomp of luxury, and every enjoyment of the imagination, in the places appropriated for bathing. It was there that the Romans exposed their masterpieces of painting and of sculpture. They were seen by the light of lamps, for it appears by the construction of these buildings, that daylight never entered them: they wished thus to preserve themselves from the rays of the sun, so burning in the south: the sensation they produce must certainly have been the cause of the ancients calling them the darts of Apollo. It is reasonable to suppose, from observing the extreme precaution of the ancients to guard against heat, that the climate was then more burning than it is in our days. It is in the Thermæ of Caracalla, that were placed the Hercules Farnese, the Flora, and the group of Dirce. In the baths of Nero near Ostia was found the Apollo Belvedere. Is it possible to conceive that in contemplating this noble figure Nero did not feel some generous emotions?
The Thermæ and the Circuses are the only kind of buildings appropriated to public amusements of which there remain any relics at Rome. There is no theatre except that of Marcellus whose ruins still exist. Pliny relates that there were three hundred and sixty pillars of marble, and three thousand statues employed in a theatre, which was only to last a few days. Sometimes the Romans raised fabrics so strong that they resisted the shock of earthquakes; at others they took pleasure in devoting immense labour to buildings which they themselves destroyed as soon as their feasts were over; thus they sported with time in every shape. Besides, the Romans were not like the Greeks—influenced by a passion for dramatic representations. It was by Grecian work, and Grecian artists, that the fine arts flourished at Rome, and Roman greatness expressed itself rather by the colossal magnificence of architecture than by the masterpieces of the imagination. This gigantic luxury, these wonders of riches, possess great and characteristic dignity, which, though not the dignity of liberty, is that of power. The monuments appropriated for public baths, were called provinces; in them were united all the divers productions and divers establishments which a whole country can produce. The circus (called Circus Maximus) of which the remains are still to be seen, was so near the palace of the Cæsars that Nero could from his windows give the signal for the games. The circus was large enough to contain three hundred thousand persons. The nation almost in its entirety was amused at the same moment, and these immense festivals might be considered as a kind of popular institution, which united every man in the cause of pleasure as they were formerly united in the cause of glory.
Mount Quirinal and Mount Viminal are so near each other that it is difficult to distinguish them: it was here that the houses of Sallust and of Pompey, formerly stood; it is here also that the Pope has now fixed his abode. We cannot take one step in Rome without bringing the present near to the past, and different periods of the past near to each other. But we learn to reconcile ourselves to the events of our own time, in beholding the eternal mutability of the history of man; and we feel ashamed of letting our own lot disturb us in the presence of so many ages, which have all overthrown the work of the preceding ones.
By the side of the Seven Hills, on their declivities or on their summits, are seen a multitude of steeples, and of obelisks; Trajan's column, the column of Antoninus, the Tower of Conti (whence it is said Nero beheld the conflagration of Rome), and the Dome of St Peter's, whose commanding grandeur eclipses that of every other object. It appears as if the air were peopled with all these monuments, which extend towards Heaven, and as if an aerial city were majestically hovering over the terrestrial one.
On entering Rome again Corinne made Oswald pass under the portico of Octavia, she who loved so well, and suffered so much; then they traversed the Path of Infamy, by which the infamous Tullia passed, trampling her father's corpse beneath the feet of her horses. At a distance from this spot is seen the temple raised by Agrippina in honour of Claudius whom she caused to be poisoned. And lastly we pass the tomb of Augustus, whose enclosure now serves as an amphitheatre for the combats of beasts.
"I have caused you to run over very rapidly," said Corinne to Lord Nelville, "some traces of ancient history; but you will comprehend the pleasure to be found in these researches, at once learned and poetic, which speak to the imagination as well as to the mind. There are in Rome many distinguished men whose only occupation is to discover some new relation between history and the ruins." "I know no study that would more captivate and interest me," replied Lord Nelville, "if I felt sufficiently at rest to give my mind to it: this species of erudition is much more animated than that which is acquired from books: one would say that we make what we discover to live again, and that the past re-appears from beneath the dust in which it has been buried." "Undoubtedly," said Corinne, "this passion for antiquity is not a vain prejudice. We live in an age when personal interest seems to be the only principle of all the actions of men, and what sympathy, what emotion, what enthusiasm, can ever result from such a principle? It is sweeter to dream of those days of devotion, of personal sacrifice and heroism, which however, have existed, and of which the earth still bears some honourable testimonies."