Letters of an Architect, From France, Italy, and Greece. Volume 2 [of 2]

by Joseph Woods

Ortygia seems at first to have been an island rising in a gentle slope, and sheltering the magnificent harbour; time and perhaps the rubbish of the old city filled up the narrow channel, and it became a peninsula, but to complete the modern fortification this has been cut through, and it is again become an island, and has taken the name once belonging to the whole extent of the former city. The principal antiquity is the ancient temple of Minerva, which has been transformed into the cathedral church. Arches have been opened in the walls of the cell, while the intervals of the columns of the peristyle have been filled up; and by this means, what was the cell of the temple, is become the nave of the church, and the side aisles are obtained from the surrounding colonnades. This operation, and the loss of the ancient entablature have obliterated all the effect of the original edifice; we may still understand that it has been a noble building, impressive from the massive solidity of the Doric order, as executed in Sicily; but its ponderous capitals, thick proportions, and imperfect material, will not permit it to be placed in comparison with the union of grace and majesty, of just proportions, beautiful material, and exquisite workmanship, which distinguish the edifices of Athens.

The modern front of the Cathedral forms as great a contrast as possible with the ancient work, a light Corinthian, cut up in every direction; yet though sinning against every rule of good sense and good taste, it is not without something pleasing in its airy lightness.

We find in Syracuse the remains of another temple, which has been called that of Diana, merely because Cicero mentions two temples, one dedicated to Minerva, and one to Diana, and the vestiges of two temples still exist, one of which was doubtless that of Minerva. The temple mentioned by Cicero seems to have been a magnificent building, and one might expect to find columns as large, or perhaps larger than those of the other edifice; whereas, these measured just below the capital are little more than 2 feet in diameter. The projection of the abacus must be enormous, since it is about 6 feet square, but the whole is so much damaged, and so awkwardly built up in modern walls, that it is difficult to determine the dimensions. These disproportioned capitals are little more than 18 inches apart, and altogether it seems to have been a building of a very curious style of architecture.

The present situation of the Fountain of Arethusa is said to have nothing ancient but the name, and it certainly can boast of no beauty. The water issues from beneath an arch, but is supposed to be supplied by the ancient spring, except that in forming the ditch of the fortifications, the natural channels have been in some degree disturbed, and the water thereby rendered brackish. On leaving the island we meet with one standing column and some bases, the remains of a range of at least seven, which are said to have been part of a portico; but I know not why they might not have belonged to a temple.

The Amphitheatre is at some distance; it is considered as a Roman building, or rather it is a hollow, perhaps an old quarry appropriated by the Romans to their favourite diversions. It was small, and not at all proportioned to the size of the city. Some subterraneous corridors still exist.

The ancient quarries extend almost across the ancient city, and being cut down to a great depth, above 100 feet, show the thickness of this bed of calcareous rock. One of these is called the Paradiso, and at one angle of it there is a long winding cavern formed artificially, and well known under the appellation of the ear of Dionysius. Some persons have imagined it connected with the theatre, behind which it runs, but this opinion has no more to recommend it, than the vulgar tradition. There is a channel cut along the highest part of the roof, which turns suddenly round into a little chamber above the entrance; at the other end this channel seems continued beyond the accessible parts of the grotto, but its exit is unknown. The whole form, and the sweeping lines of its plan and section, exhibit evident traces of a design for some particular purpose; but from the unfinished appearance of the further end, it may be doubted if it ever was completed.

The Theatre occupies a most beautiful situation; the circuit of the steps, and of one precinction remain, but the lower part, and the foundations of the proscenium, if any exist, are hid in a canneto, i. e. a place in which reeds are grown. There is a very curious arrangement immediately below the precinction, the purpose of which I do not understand, which you will comprehend better from a sketch, than from any description I could give.

A little above the theatre there is a washing-place in front of a cavern, which has a very picturesque effect. The water is supplied by an aqueduct, which nearly follows the line of an ancient one, and the water afterwards turns a mill on the steps of the theatre. Beyond this is the Strada Sepolcrale; a street cut in the rock, about 20 feet deep, and with sepulchral niches and chambers also cut out of the solid rock on each side. A longer excursion in the same direction took me to the Hexapylon, Epipolis, or Citadel, and the extremity of the ancient walls, at the highest and most distant point of the triangle. It is about five miles from the present town, where the ground rises gradually into a very narrow ridge, and then breaks down suddenly. Underneath the point thus formed, there is a passage of considerable width, opening in each direction beyond the walls. There are also sally-ports for cavalry, and altogether the remains of ancient fortifications in this part are very curious and important. A conical hill, about three fourths of a mile beyond, called the Belvidere, which overlooks the whole extent of the city, has been supposed by some to be the ancient fortress of the Hexapylon, but there are not sufficient remains to force our assent to such an opinion. The view is very fine, and the whole country here very pleasant, but still higher hills rise at a short distance on the north, and limit the prospect. There is an ancient aqueduct cut in the rock, and a little below it a modern channel, which is, I believe, what now supplies the washing-place above-mentioned, and turns the mill in the theatre.

I have noticed one quarry in which the ear of Dionysius is situated. Great part of it is now garden and olive-ground, and there are other caverns, one of which is used as a rope-walk. An insulated mass rises in the midst, crowned with the ruins of a building, which are quite inaccessible. This quarry is the westernmost of the range. To the east are several others of a similar nature, and the gardens of a Capuchin convent occupy the eastern extremity of this range of quarries; a place as romantic as it is singular, where the richest vegetation intervenes between perpendicular faces of naked rock, which here likewise has been partially hollowed out into caverns. There is a vault below the church, where the good fathers are kept after death. They are first buried, and probably the earth has some drying property, then taken up, and seated in their Capuchin dresses in this place, where they have a very shocking appearance. After some years they fall to pieces, and make room for others. The Catacombs are also supposed to have been quarries. The entrance is in a convent, which exhibits indications of Norman architecture, but circular arches are here united with running foliage in the capitals. Something of a regular plan seems to have been followed in these very extensive excavations.