It would probably be better (internally) to make the upright part of a building of this sort, somewhat greater than the semidiameter of the circle on the plan; at least in the present case, the dome itself seems to come rather too near the eye, and to occupy too much of the view, especially in the condition it now is, presenting an overwhelming extent of whitewash. It is supposed that this was also covered with bronze panels, but the time of their removal seems uncertain. These panels would probably have followed the disposition of those now existing in the brickwork and stucco; that is, they must have been in square coffers, and in such a case the most obvious way of cutting the recesses is to make them at right angles to the surface of each part; or, to speak more mathematically, at right angles to the tangents of the surface, and consequently, all tending to the centre of the curve; here they are cut in almost vertically, or if they do tend to a common centre, it is to one below the eye of the spectator standing in the centre of the room. Some people affect to understand the reason of this; but the result is distortion, and if really intended to produce any pleasing optical deception, it must be attributed to great want of judgment, as it could only succeed from one spot, and must look ill everywhere else; whereas, without any such contrivance, the spectator himself would at once make allowance for situation, and the mind would be satisfied; for in architecture, and probably in all the fine arts, it is often rather what we understand than what we see, that produces the sensation of pleasure. In unusual situations some allowance may be permitted, but it should always be so limited, that a moderately practised eye will not perceive it. If, instead of being drawn to the centre of the hemisphere, which as I have said before, is the most obvious method of forming them, the lines of the recesses had been directed to a point eighteen or twenty feet below it, it is possible that they would have appeared to tend more correctly to that centre, than if they had been really drawn to it; but as they are, every body at once perceives that they are not so drawn. These panels are omitted for a circle of considerable width round the opening in the centre, but we cannot doubt that this part also, had originally its share of decoration. The little altars are all bad in design, and worse in execution, but not all equally so: the best of them are usually attributed to Septimius Severus.
I cannot leave the building without noticing some particulars of less consequence, which deserve notice, because in such a building, the defects as well as the beauties become lessons, and it is necessary, to an architect at least, carefully to examine and separate one from the other; for oddly as it sounds in theory, everybody knows that we have a strong tendency in practice, to copy without discrimination. In the interior order, the corona is too small, and the projection of the sima too great, giving to the cornice a thin and wiry edge. This appears to have resulted from a feeling common to the Roman artists, who endeavoured to produce a broad line of shade as high as possible on the cornice, while the Greeks on the contrary, endeavoured to obtain there, a breadth of light, with only one or two narrow, but distinct and sharply marked lines of shadow. In this instance, from the lofty position of the opening, the first distinct light is on the uncut dentil band, and here it is rather a defect than a merit. The mouldings are generally rather small; the panelling of the soffite of the cornice is in oblongs, not in squares, and this displeases, and the execution is not very perfect. In our books we usually see the curves of the mouldings described by portions of circles, but this is rarely the case. I think they were drawn by hand to please the eye of the artist, and not according to any system. On the roof of the building we still see some lead of the repairs of 1451, and the ancient marble slabs of the platform immediately above the upper cornice remain under the lead, but broken, and without the cover-tiles. Round the central opening parts of the ancient bronze cornice remain, and some of the gilding with which it was enriched.
In our way home we may stop to look at the Basilica of Antoninus, now used as the custom-house. It consists of a range of eleven fine, but much injured Corinthian columns. The frieze and cornice are modern, the former is swelled, and as it is of stucco, and shows no joints, you are assured by the Romans that it is all of one piece of stone. They pay the same compliment to the doorway of the Palazzo Sciarra, consisting of two columns, with their entablature, pilasters, &c.; because, being well executed, the joints are not readily distinguishable. On passing to the inside, we are struck with the vast masses of stone and rubble-work suspended over our heads, but nothing in fact remains erect but this range of columns, whose spaces are now filled up with modern chambers, and the part supported by them.
LETTER XXV.
SAINT PETER’S.
Rome, March, 1817.
After a view of the principal antiquities, the attention of a stranger is naturally directed towards the Vatican; and as I gave you a promise some time ago to send you the result of my examination of St. Peter’s, and to explain to you why it looks smaller than it is, I am now about to fulfil my engagement to the best of my ability. In order however, not altogether to abandon my usual course, I will first give a sketch of its history, which may save you the trouble of hunting it out in Bonanni and Fontana; for what I can communicate on the subject will be principally taken from these authors, with a little assistance now and then from Milizia. I intend in my next letter to give you a general view of the ancient basilicas, and I shall reserve for that, my remarks on the old church built by Constantine on this spot. In the time of Nicolas V. (A. D. 1447) it was verging to ruin, and that pontiff undertook to erect a new building on such a scale, and with such accompaniments, that even the present work, with all its appendages, and the adjoining palace of the Vatican, are hardly equal to it. Three broad and straight streets, with porticos on each side, were to have conducted to the church. This was to have been formed on the most magnificent scale, and finished with the richest materials: adjoining would have been a palace large enough to afford accommodation to the pope and all his court; to all the cardinals and their attendants; to various officers of government; and besides this, spacious apartments for as many sovereigns, with their numerous suites, as could be ever at one time at Rome: add to all this, pleasure-grounds, gardens, and fountains, and a great theatre for the ceremonies of coronation. A Florentine artist, Bernardo Rossellini, made the designs for these vast edifices; but the Pope died, and the idea was abandoned. Julius II. resumed it, as far as the erection of a new church, and invited different artists to present to him their plans. Such a competition took place on this occasion as is not to be seen in these degenerate days: Bramante; Giuliano di San Gallo; Fra Giacomo, or perhaps rather Fra Giocondo, as it seems to be the man whose life is sketched under that name by Milizia; Peruzzi; Raphael, and J. Battista Berti, produced their designs; but that of Bramante was preferred: his plan however has not, I believe, been preserved, and we can only form some judgment of it from that of Raphael, which has been published by Serlio, and which according to that author, was formed on that of his predecessor. Bramante began to clear the ground and to prepare for the work in 1506, but according to Milizia the edifice was not begun till 1513. This artist raised the piers of the dome as high as the cornice; and turned the arches upon them; he also carried up the walls of the central tribune, forming the head of the cross; but as he died in 1514, he had not time to perform any very extensive works; and both Julius and himself seem to have been more anxious to see the effect of a part, than to proceed regularly with the whole design.
Raphael’s design presents to our view a Latin cross, with side aisles extending the whole length of the building, and each of the tribunes terminating in a semicircle: behind these tribunes, and not connected with the aisles of the building, were galleries of the same form, divided from the body of the church by piers and columns, the object of which to me is not very intelligible: and I have seen no elevation or section, to enable me to understand their effect, except as they seem to be preserved in the design of Antonio Sangallo; they are there lower than the other parts of the building, though the want of elevation is masked externally by the upper order. The portico is composed of three ranges, each of twelve columns, forming a parallelogram, but not placed at equal distances; some medals of Julius II. and of Leo X., are supposed to exhibit the front of Bramante’s building, but the figure given in them has no similarity to this portico of Raphael. The dome published by Serlio is that of Bramante; it would have been low compared to that which has actually been erected; single, and surrounded with a colonnade of single Corinthian columns.
Leo X. appointed Giuliano di Sangallo and his younger brother Antonio architects of St. Peter’s, in conjunction with Raphael; but Milizia tells us that the elder Sangallo, advanced in years, and oppressed with disease, refused the employment. From this period to 1520, it does not seem that any thing was done, except strengthening the erections of Bramante, whose piers were neither by their mass, nor the perfection of their workmanship, calculated to support the weight intended to be placed upon them; this strengthening however was not such as to alter their form materially. After Raphael’s death in 1520, Baldassare Peruzzi was appointed architect. He reduced the Latin cross to a Greek one by shortening the nave, and terminating it with a semicircle, so as to make all the arms precisely alike, with an entrance in each. He also appears to have made some changes in the smaller parts, if we may trust to Serlio’s miserable engravings. Leo died in 1521; but though we hear much of the expenses incurred in the prosecution of the work during his pontificate, we are ignorant of the state in which he left it. Peruzzi suffered greatly at the famous sack of Rome by the Germans in 1527, and afterwards lived in great poverty till 1536. The situation of the Roman pontiffs at that period was not such as to permit them to proceed with their building.
Antonio Sangallo, nephew of the preceding architects of that name, succeeded. This architect greatly increased the extent of the design, by adding a large edifice at the end of the nave, with two lofty detached steeples, and thus making the outside form that of a Latin cross, but without changing the general shape of the inside; he proposed to close up the openings from the tribune into the semicircular gallery behind it, leaving only three small doorways; the dome was to have been ornamented with two rows of columns and arches, but it still remained single, and the internal height corresponded with that of the outside. In order to perform all this, he again strengthened the foundations.
The model of this stupendous design, although made by the hands of Labacco, who was servant of Sangallo, cost 4,184 crowns; it is preserved in the present church, and is itself a building which may deserve some description. The plan, as I have already said, is a Greek cross, with arms of considerable length, each terminating in a semicircle. The angles of this simple form are occupied by four other Greek crosses, so that the construction appears to depend on sixteen masses. Four of these, each of which is a square with one angle cut away, support the dome. It is said that in Bramante’s design these were to have been hollow; but the model exhibits no opening into them. Eight other masses are perforated, to correspond with the circular corridors behind the tribunes. These do not shew their whole width towards the great cross, the centre of the semicircle being brought a little inwards. The four remaining masses which form the angles of the general square, are each hollow, and crowned with an octagonal turret. In the execution of the building the external circuit has been much contracted, and the corridors round the semicircles entirely suppressed; but in other respects this plan is very nearly the same as that of the present church. Immediately in front is another large edifice, forming rather a disproportionate vestibule. It is perforated in both directions by a large open arch, and flanked by two lofty detached towers, whose height is equal to that of the central cupola with its lantern and ornaments.