LETTER XXX.
ROME.
Rome, April, 1817.
Having conducted you through the principal buildings of Rome, both ancient and modern, I shall now endeavour to lead you to those of less interest, but which nevertheless deserve some sort of notice; and whose number and extent contribute much to swell the general notion of Roman magnificence. We will begin these walks from the Piazza di Spagna, the neighbourhood of which is the usual residence of foreigners, and especially of the English, and from which I am only separated by the magnificent flight of steps of the Trinità de’ Monti, which I have already described to you. This piazza is adorned with a fountain in the whimsical shape of a boat receiving the water, instead of floating in it. This water is the Acqua Vergine, the channel of which is not sufficiently elevated to make here any considerable display, but this is no sufficient reason for such an absurdity. We will then walk if you please, along the Via Babuina, which the Romans say is now subject to the mal aria, because the French made a garden on the hill above it, to the Piazza del Popolo. I have already said a little about this square, if it may be so called, but I think I may add something more; on one side is the city gate called the Porta del Popolo, and the church of Santa Maria del Popolo, which if not very beautiful in itself, yet will attract strangers by some good paintings, and by its ornaments of the cinque cento, some of which are exquisitely beautiful. It is, I believe, the richest church in the world in specimens of this style, which was evidently taken from that of the ancient sculptured vases; we also see here the chapel of Cardinal Cibo, rich in marbles, but where the combination of black and verd antique produces a gloomy effect; and the little chapel of the Ghigi family, designed by Raphael, and adorned with sculpture by his hand; but I have already given you an account of this little jewel.
The opposite side of the square, presents the opening of three long straight streets, which I long to widen, and to conduct to a suitable termination. The middle one is the Corso, the ancient Via Lata, to which my desire of improving is particularly directed, as it would be very possible to introduce the Capitoline hill into the view along it. This might be crowned with something better than the church of Ara Cœli, and the shabby buildings which now encumber its slopes might easily be removed. At the angles between these three streets, are the two corresponding churches of Santa Maria de’ Miracoli, and Santa Maria di Monte Santo. Now if you ask me whether these are two St. Maries, or only one, really I cannot tell you. The churches are pretty well, but rather commonplace.
On the right hand of this Place, as you enter Rome, are some low buildings, forming, I believe, a corpo di guardia, and perhaps something beside, not at all magnificent. I have seen some designs for completing this part in a manner more worthy of the principal entrance to Rome; but none that I much approve.[[50]] On the opposite side is a zig-zag road, leading up the hill to the public gardens; the first part appears to be semicircular, and I think will be handsome, but it is not yet finished. In the middle is a fine obelisk, transported hither from the Circus maximus, which it was brought by Augustus from Egypt to adorn; and a fountain. Here then is a fine collection of objects. It wants but little of including several more, and of becoming such an entrance as the enthusiasm of some of our travellers seems to have imagined it.
From the Piazza (for I leave the walls and gates to a future opportunity) we ascend the Mons Pincius to what are now the public gardens; an improvement for which Rome is indebted to the French. Hence we have a noble view over the modern city, with its domes and palaces, of the Janicular and Vatican hills, of St. Peter’s, which here alone perhaps, shews its whole height, and of the overgrown palace which shoulders it. Thence we follow the line of hills to Monte Mario, rising nearly as high as the summit of the dome of St. Peter’s, and the eye traces the valley of the Tiber to Soracte and the Apennines. Nearer are the woods and buildings of the Villa Borghese, and the house of Raphael, a picturesque object, which however externally, owes its greatest interest to a name; and a bend in the outline of the city exposes to us a portion of the external wall, with a deep road at its foot, crowned by the pine groves of the Villa Ludovisi.
From the public gardens we pass to what was the Villa Medici, but is now the residence of the French academy: here are apartments and working rooms provided for the students, and a noble gallery of casts in sculpture and architecture, for their use; here also the annual performances are exhibited, previously to their being sent to Paris. The back-front of the building has been much admired. It attracts however more praise for the ancient bas-reliefs with which it is adorned, some of which are very beautiful, than for its architecture. That architecture is well suited to receive such pieces of sculpture; but perhaps it is not very good taste, or very good judgment, to decorate a building in this way, as the sculptures suffer from the constant exposure. A little summer-house in the gardens contains a pair of the most beautiful pilaster ornaments in existence. I prefer them to those at the entrance of the gallery at Florence; but these also have suffered, and are suffering.
The next object is the Church of the Trinità de’ Monti, standing at the head of the magnificent staircase I have so often mentioned, and with a fine obelisk in front, taken from the circus of Sallust. The church is not very beautiful, but the adjoining convent contains the celebrated Taking down from the Cross, by Daniel di Volterra. Thence, passing close under my lodging, which I believe is in the house inhabited by Niccolò Poussin, and close by the residence of Claude Lorraine, and by a house which the latter has introduced several times in his paintings, we keep the Via Sistina, which would lead us in a straight line by a small descent, to the Piazza Barberini, in the upper part of the hollow which separates the Pincian hill from the Quirinal; but turning to the left, we may visit by the way the Capuchin church and convent, famous for the St. Michael of Guido, an excellent figure, but as is the case in many of Guido’s paintings, the bright blue of the cuirass is rather out of harmony; this is probably owing to the use of a colour which has not deepened with the rest. There are likewise some other good paintings, and amongst them one which is said to be the masterpiece of Pietro da Cortona, but his frigid productions will not please, after the glow and animation of Guido and Domenichino. The cemetery of the convent contains mummies and skeletons, dressed, and sitting in niches. Skulls, lamps, roses, and arabesques; all of which are formed entirely by the disposition of human bones, constitute the ornaments of a suite of small rooms. Our conductor, a Capuchin, seemed to find the exhibition very diverting.
From this church we descend into the Piazza Barberini, in the lower part of which is a fountain, composed of a triton, supported on four dolphins, and blowing up the water, “invenzione,” says the Guide-book, “assai stimata di Bernini.” For my part, I have no taste for monsters. The water rises with considerable force, and in windy weather often exhibits the prismatic colours. We ascend the Quirinal hill along a continuation of the Via Sistina, to the Quattro Fontane; where we cross the long straight street leading to the Porta Pia, and marked at the other end by the obelisk and figures of Monte Cavallo. We descend from the Quattro Fontane, and after a slight depression pass by a still more trifling rise on to the Viminal, of whose existence you are hardly sensible, unless you are looking out for it, since the depression is almost equally trifling towards the Esquiline. If however, instead of going up the Viminal, you descend to the most depressed part of the Via delle Quattro Fontane, by the Via di San Vitale, you will be more sensible of the descent; and if you get into the gardens and vineyards on the left, some substructions marking the brow of a hill, exhibit the Viminal, not indeed as a large or high hill, but as one which might even still be counted among the seven little eminences of Rome. On the other side also, the Via Santa Pudenziana leads into an evident hollow. The succession of these hills is perhaps more evident, if instead of passing by the Quattro Fontane, we go from the Piazza Trajana, along the Via Magnanapoli, and passing by the Villa Aldobrandini, continue along the Vie di San Lorenzo and Santa Maria Maggiore.
The Esquiline is more conspicuous, and its ascent towards the church of Santa Maria Maggiore is marked by rows of trees, and crowned with an obelisk, standing at the back of the church. It is a very extensive hill, now almost entirely occupied by gardens and vineyards. Passing in front of the church just mentioned, we arrive at that of St. Antony, where once a year, the ceremony of blessing the horses is performed; and afterwards at a fragment of brick and rubble, called the trophies of Marius, because here were found the marble trophies known by that name, now standing on the balustrades of the square of the Capitol; but it is in fact, as antiquaries are tolerably well agreed, the Castello, or as we should say, not very correctly, the head of the Marcian aqueduct. In returning we may pass by the Arch of Gallienus, a plain building, with no other ornament than what arises from the employment of two Corinthian pilasters; and visit the churches of St. Praxedes, (without obtaining any portion of the indulgences promised to those who frequent it) of San Martino de’ Monti, and San Pietro in Vinculis, which I have already described. They are all seated near the brow of the Esquiline.