St. Peter’s as you know is ornamented with mosaics, which have the advantage of pictures in durability. The damps will not injure them, and if by chance a candle should fall against them, they do not suffer; but if you should ask me whether these mosaics are equal to the originals, I must answer in the negative; and I will add, that the difference is very considerable, even between the best mosaics, and the first-rate paintings from which they were copied; in pictures of inferior merit of course there is less difference, and I have seen the weaker parts even of a capital painting improved in the copy; for the natural tendency of every process of the sort, is to reduce all things to a level, bringing down the finest touches, and raising those which are indifferent. These pictures cost from ten to twenty thousand crowns each, and it has been said that for half the money you might have had paintings, either copies or originals, of equal or superior merit, while the interest of the remaining sum would have provided an ample fund for renewing them, and have kept alive the spirit and emulation of artists; but I confess the mere circumstance of their durability gives me a pleasing emotion. It is painful to see the most beautiful productions of the fine arts exposed in situations which are preparing their destruction; and this idea of duration corresponds with the character of the immense structure which surrounds you. Added to which, the altar pieces of churches are never in very good lights for the effect of the painting. In the adoption of such a mode of decoration, one would imagine that none but the very first-rate paintings would be chosen; but you will be surprised to learn that this is by no means the case; several of those at St. Peter’s are copied from quite second-rate productions.
I descended into the vaults, the pavement of which, in part at least, is that of the ancient basilica of Constantine; it contains some ancient sarcophagi of saints, emperors, and popes; and some sculpture, and mosaics, and ancient columns, the plunder as we are told of the Septizonium. No woman is permitted to enter here, except on one particular day in the year, when the men are prohibited.
The excursion to the top is more interesting than that into the vaults; but contains still less to write about, unless I were to enter into the particulars of the construction, which has already occupied so many writers. The masses are so great, and the roof so extensive, that we seem rather to be in a town founded on a vast rock, than on the top of an edifice. The building is perfect, without this wooden roof, but as vaults covered with stucco are seldom entirely impervious to the weather, it was necessary to erect it. It is slight, and rests entirely upon the vaulting, so that the whole might be blown away, and no mischief done to the edifice. On reading over what I have written, I feel that it is calculated to give a much less favourable impression of this truly magnificent edifice than it really deserves. I go to it again and again, and contemplate it, and enjoy it; and now I have finished my criticisms, perhaps more than at first. I wish I could enable you to dwell upon its beauties, and feel the same mental satisfaction and delight; but this seems to be quite beyond my ability.
———Cupidum, pater optime, vires
Deficiunt.
LETTER XXVI.
BASILICAN CHURCHES.
Rome, March, 1817.
In following the order of dates, an account of the basilicas and ancient churches of the lower empire, should have preceded my observations on St. Peter’s; for although most of them have been very much altered, yet there are still sufficient remains of the old work to trace the plan and distribution of the parts, and indeed every thing relating to the solid masses of the building; and in one or two, more or less of the original mode of fitting it up. The first of these in size and in reputation, is the Church of St. Paul without the walls, (fuori delle mura) and it has the advantage of having undergone very little alteration, so that most of the original construction is not only preserved, but is still exposed.[[45]] It was founded by Constantine, A. D. 324, but not completed till A. D. 395, under the reign of Honorius. About the year 440, it was restored by Eudoxa, wife of Valentinian III., but one may suppose, that at so early a period it did not want any important repairs. Having afterwards been injured by an earthquake, it was again restored in 795, by St. Leo III. The wall, which at present divides the transept longitudinally, is thought to be part of this restoration. Under Clement VIII. (about 1600), a new ceiling (or roof?) was put to the transept, and in 1725, Benedict XIII. added the portico.
This church is one of the seven, as the guide books tell you, which are visited to obtain indulgences; of the four which have the Porta Santa; and of the five patriarchal churches of Rome. The seven churches, which are visited to obtain indulgences are, besides this, St. Peter’s in the Vatican, St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, San Lorenzo, fuori delle mura, and St. Sebastian. They must all be visited in one day, but I cannot tell you what particular degree or term of indulgence is obtained by the performance of this task. The Porta Santa is a gate opened only in the years of jubilee. The others are at the Lateran, St. Peter’s, and Santa Maria Maggiore. The patriarchal churches should by their name be the seat of as many patriarchs; yet I do not know that Rome ever pretended to have more than one: the others are St. Peter, St. John Lateran, Santa Maria Maggiore, and San Lorenzo.
On the outside, the Church of St. Paul is a great ugly barn: it would look better if many of the windows of the upper part of the nave, or clerestory, as it is called in Gothic churches, were not filled up; we should then have had one uniform range of openings, but now there is hardly any appearance of regularity or design in any part; for the lower windows are very capriciously disposed. In the upper part of the front is a large cove, ornamented with mosaics, which was frequently the case in these basilican churches, but perhaps it does not date from the erection of the building. The portico is not at all in harmony with the rest of the church, and it is become a useless appendage, since the road now passes by what was the back of the edifice, and you creep in by a narrow winding passage. Internally, the space is divided into two principal parts, the nave and transept; the apsis being merely a recess in the transept, formed of a portion of a circle less than half. I do not know whether I have not already praised this disposition: it is perhaps the finest of any in point of effect, if well managed; but this beau ideal in the management must be collected from different examples, there is no one, either at Rome or elsewhere, which will completely satisfy us. Two long colonnades, forming an avenue to the altar, support the nave. This part must not be dark, but should be illuminated by a chastened and sober light. The transept ought to be wide and open, and not very long; and a large window at each end, might pour the full blaze of light on a magnificent altar of highly enriched architecture, behind which the dark recess of the choir, or apsis, would give increased value to the principal light. This recess itself must be enriched. The eye will see that it is so, without precisely distinguishing the details, and the imagination is immediately excited to fill it with its own beauties. In all works of the fine arts, the artist who can call in the imagination of the spectator, and direct it in his favour, has accomplished a great object. In smaller churches, a single range of columns on each side, is sufficient; in larger ones two ranges, and double side aisles, enhance the variety and magnificence of the scene. At this church of St. Paul, we have such double ranges; and the whole is on a grand scale, since the nave is 80 feet wide, and the entire width exceeds 200. The columns which divide the side aisles are smaller than those of the nave, but there is the same number of each, i. e. twenty in each row. Twenty-four of the larger ones are of pavonazzo, a very beautiful marble, the ground of which is white, or with a slight tinge of red or buff, and marked with purple veins. They are finely proportioned, and perfectly well wrought, with capitals and bases of white marble. I did not get up to examine the former, but I am told that they are a good deal repaired with plaster. These columns are usually said to have been taken from the mausoleum of Hadrian, but I think Hobhouse has pretty clearly shewn, that there never were any columns there;[[46]] but there can be no doubt that they are the spoils of a building of the best ages of architecture; and perhaps in attributing them to Hadrian, we assign too recent a period. The remaining sixteen are imitations of these, in a stone which is called at Rome marmo greco, and which I suspect to come from Paros, as the grain is very similar to that of the Parian marble; and in the latter, we may sometimes see vestiges of the faint, indistinct, gray stripes, which form the character of this marmo greco: it perhaps contains magnesia, and generally gives a faint unpleasant smell, when rubbed pretty firmly with the finger. The workmanship of these columns is extremely bad. We might forgive some imperfections in the capitals and bases, but the clumsy and irregular formation of the shaft, quite exceeds all previous calculation; and it appears, that the workmen of this period could neither make a straight flute, nor an evenly curved surface. The forty smaller columns are without flutes, and are perhaps even worse in point of execution than any of the larger ones. All these columns support arches, and though the philosophy of the art condemns them, the effect has a degree of lightness and elegance which always pleases, and which it is perhaps impossible to obtain in any other way. The wall of the nave, above these arches, is very much too high. Originally, there was a narrow circular-headed window over each of the openings below, a large proportion of which has been filled up. These walls have been painted in distemper, with a sort of architecture, whose divisions do not correspond with those of the building. In the panels thus formed, there were historical paintings, but the subjects are nearly obliterated. The roof is very well constructed, but is not a beautiful object, entirely exposed as it is to the church. It is a defect inherent to this sort of plan, that we cannot consistently make use of a vaulted roof, because the columns below can never seem sufficient to support it. It must therefore be coved, or flat, but the timberwork may be covered with panels, and ornamented with mouldings and gilding; here all is rude and naked. The pavement is composed of fragments of tombstones, and other slabs of marble, placed without order, occasionally overflowed by the inundations of the Tiber, and generally bearing the marks of such evils. The walls of the aisles are merely whitewashed, every thing breathes poverty and neglect, dirt and decay, yet nobody enters without admiring, without feeling impressed with the magnificence of the design. Nevertheless, the proportions are not good, or at least the size of the columns is not such as to correspond with the dimensions of the church, and to these columns it certainly owes its principal beauty. They divide the width without concealing it, and probably thus increase the apparent magnitude. With a system of square piers and arches, you would see directly across, just as well as at present, but the diagonal views would be lost, and these are perhaps the most pleasing, or at least they are those which most excite the attention; and they offer also a number of perspectives, instead of confining you to one. The imagination is gratefully exercised in successfully tracing the arrangement of the parts. The motion of the spectator produces a continual change of scene, and this change maintains a continued interest. The transept is divided longitudinally, by a wall with three large openings, which are adorned with columns of porphyry, granite, and marble, enriched with ornaments which do not belong to them. The whole interpolation, for this wall forms no part of the original structure, must be considered as a blemish, as it interrupts the breadth of light, which ought to detach the nave from the altar, and from the dark coloured apsis behind it.