Within the walls of the city interment was very properly forbidden by the law, and at a convenient distance beyond its crowded precincts, large plots of ground could hardly be obtained; but the formation of subterranean cemeteries on a vast scale was greatly facilitated by the geological formation of the land. Three different kinds of stone compose the groundwork of the Roman campagna: the tufa litoide, as hard and durable as granite, which furnished the materials for the palaces and temples of the Cæsarian city; the tufa granolare, which, though consistent enough to retain the form given it by the excavators, cannot be hewn or extracted in blocks, and the loose tufa friabile, or pozzuolana, which has been extensively used from the earliest ages for mortar or Roman cement. It is evident that neither the hard lithoid nor the loose tuff were suitable for the excavation of the catacombs, while this purpose could be admirably attained in the courses of the granular tuff, which, though not too hard to be worked, is yet solid enough to make walls for long and intricate passages, to be hewn into arches vaulting over deep recesses for the reception of coffins, and to support floor below floor down to the utmost depth to which the formation reaches.
Neither in the stone quarries nor in the sand-pits of ancient Rome is there the slightest sign that they were ever used for the purposes of sepulture, while in the granular tuff not a yard seems to have been excavated except for the making of tombs, which line the walls throughout their prodigious length, as close to one another as the berths in the sides of a ship. Though the most ancient catacombs were excavated by the Jews, yet these excavations are of a very limited extent when compared with those of Christian origin, where, instead of the seven-branched candlestick and other sacred emblems of the Jewish persuasion, every ornament or inscription marked or painted upon the walls bears witness to the faith of those who were deposited—to use the peculiar and appropriate expression—within these narrow cells. Everywhere we see Christian symbols only—the horse, emblematic of strength in the faith; the hunted hare, of persecution; the dove and the cock, of the Christian virtues of vigilance and meekness; the peacock and the phœnix, of resurrection; the anchor, of hope in immortality; the palm-leaf, of the martyr’s triumph over death, and many others.
The sepulchral inscriptions are short and simple, but often extremely tender and touching, recalling to memory, in a few brief words, the innocence and purity of life, the beauty and the wisdom, or the amiable, peace-loving character, of the deceased. The pompous or desponding tone of the heathen mortuary inscriptions disappears; the Christian ‘sleeps and sleeps in peace.’ There is no sign of affectation or hypocrisy in these simple epitaphs, and the ennobling influence of the new creed upon the spirit of man is, perhaps, nowhere more conspicuous than in the unostentatious inscriptions traced upon the tombs of its first confessors.
The use of the catacombs for the various purposes of interment, assembly, or concealment began, no doubt, with the first persecution under Nero. Most of the inscriptions however, bear the date of the fourth or fifth century, and some are evidently of a much later period. When this custom may have ceased is uncertain, but in the Middle Ages the catacombs were entirely forgotten, and remained blocked up, until towards the end of the sixteenth century, when they were reopened and explored by the indefatigable and courageous Antony Bosio, who devoted thirty-three years of his life to this labour. During his frequent wanderings through the Roman Campagna, this zealous archæologist once found, to the left of the Appian Way, near to the church of Sancta Maria in Palmis, a brick vault in a field covered with rubbish. He immediately presumed it to be the entrance of a catacomb, and descended through the narrow opening. Fired with scientific ardour, he penetrated further and further into recesses untrodden for centuries by the foot of man. The passage soon became so narrow and low as to oblige him to creep, but neither the difficulty of the exploration, nor the fear of being crushed to death by the crumbling stones, could restrain him; and thus, day after day, he continued his perilous search, until, finally, a complete subterranean city revealed itself, although he could not ascertain its limits, for, however far he might probe its intricacies, new passages were still branching out on every side, and the maze descended in several successive stories deeper and deeper into the earth. After Bosio, other archæologists have continued his researches, and in our days the Cavaliere de Rossi—to whose indefatigable zeal is due, amongst others, the discovery of the Catacomb of Callistus, where many of the early popes have been entombed—has all but completed the topography of subterranean Rome.
Besides the ancient metropolis of the world, several other old Italian towns possess remarkable catacombs or subterranean burial-places. Those of Naples, historically far less interesting than those of Rome, are executed on a far more spacious plan. They are situated not beneath the town itself, but in a neighbouring mountain, where they have been excavated to a distance of more than two miles. Large galleries, eighteen feet broad, and fourteen or fifteen high, branch out into a number of smaller passages, while the walls on both sides are pierced, like those in Rome, with horizontal sepulchral cavities, six, or even seven, one above the other.
The Catacombs of Syracuse, under the site of the ancient Achradina, are the largest and best preserved known. They are all excavated in the solid rock, and form lofty vaults, very different from the narrow and dangerous burrows of subterranean Rome. A broad gallery runs through the whole of the labyrinth, and from this many other passages of an inferior width branch out, leading to large circular vaults with openings at the top for the admission of light. Many of these have been closed, as they were equally dangerous for the people in their neighbourhood and their cattle, so that torches are necessary for visiting them. Along the walls are a number of niches, which served as sepulchres, so that these excavations, which originally were quarries, and during the flourishing times of the city were used by its vast population for various household purposes, were ultimately converted into a city of the dead.
The Catacombs of Paris, though ancient as quarries, are of a very modern date as places of sepulture. Until the end of the reign of Louis XVI. the principal burying-ground of Paris had been the Cemetery of the Innocents, near the church of the same name. Originally situated beyond the walls of the town, it had in course of time been so surrounded by the growing metropolis as to occupy its centre. Here, during nearly ten centuries, numberless bodies had been deposited, so that, from the malaria it engendered, it became a constant source of danger to the living. At length the cemetery became so intolerable a nuisance that its suppression and conversion into a public market-place was decreed in 1785.
The question now arose where the bones to be displaced should be deposited, and, from their proximity to the town and their extent, the ancient quarries were chosen as the most favourable spot for a vast subterranean necropolis. But these immense excavations, which, having been abandoned for several centuries, had in many places fallen in, needed a full year for repairs before they could be safely used for their new purpose. At length, on April 7, 1787, they were solemnly consecrated, and the same day the workmen began to remove the bones from the Cemetery of the Innocents—an operation which needed more than fifteen months for its completion. Gradually many others of the ancient cemeteries of Paris were in like manner removed to the catacombs, so that they are said to contain the bones of more than three millions of bodies. All these bones are symmetrically piled up along the sides of the galleries; the apophyses of the large thigh and arm bones are disposed in front, so as to make a nearly uniform surface, interrupted from space to space by a row of skulls. Some of the crypts or sepulchral chambers are rather lugubriously decorated with festoons or pyramids of skulls and cross-bones, and many of the stone pillars which support the vaults have likewise received ornaments of the same sexton taste. Sixty-three staircases lead from different parts of the town into the catacombs, and are used by the workmen and agents appointed to take care of the subterranean necropolis; but visitors are admitted only every three months by the entrance at the Barrière du Maine. A descent of ninety steps brings them to a narrow gallery, which conducts them, after several windings to the more roomy vaults where the bones are deposited; and after wandering for some time among these gloomy memorials which are piled up on either side, they finally emerge into daylight through another gallery, similar to the first. No doubt Paris affords many a more pleasant ramble, but hardly one more interesting, or capable of making a deeper impression on the mind.
CHAPTER XIX.
CAVES CONTAINING REMAINS OF EXTINCT ANIMALS.
The Cave Hyena and the Cave Bear—The Cavern of Kirkdale—The Moa Caves in New Zealand—Various Species of Moas—Their enormous size.