There is in S. Maria in Cosmedin a very interesting fragment of the Comacine decoration of the time when Adrian I. was the patron of the guild. It is a bit of cornice, formed of a little colonnade of round arches; beneath it an inscription in a curious early style, the letters all sizes and shapes. It runs—
"DE DON IS D͠I ET S͠CE D͠I GENETRICIS MARIÆ. TEMPORIBUS DO͞NI ADRIANI PAPE EGO GREGORIUS."
I have seen another fragment during the recent restorations. A fine intreccio on a marble slab in one of the pulpits, which had been reversed and inlaid on the other side in thirteenth-century mosaic.
The church of S. Saba on Mount Aventine, which was also built under Adrian I., has every mark of Comacine work, especially in the mediæval and unclassic form of capitals. Probably the supply of ancient capitals fell short after the building of the other churches, and the builders had to supply them with their own chisels. They made a rude imitation of the Ionic form, as far from the classic grace of the original, as their plain hard volutes were from the elegance of the Corinthian.
A better artist seems to have been placed by the Comacine Guild in S. Lorenzo in Lucina, which was contemporary to this. The capitals of the same form are much more clearly and firmly cut, and in a better style of ornamentation. Here too are the Comacine lions, now built into the wall under the square lintels of the door. Of the Comacine work in the house of the Patriarch near S. John Lateran, i.e. the papal residence of those times, not much remains to show the hand of the Comacines, except the sculptures on the well in the cloister, the parapet of which is adorned with two zones of reliefs, divided by an interlaced band. The under one consists of alternate crosses and rude palms, the upper is a row of round arches, adorned with upstanding volutes, like vine-tendrils; under one arch is a dove with grapes in his beak, and in the other a cross. There are also two sculptured stones in the same cloister, one showing various interlaced patterns, the other a cross formed by weavings of the continued line, enriched in the groundwork of foliage.
One of the most interesting churches of the Carlovingian era is that of San Pietro in Grado near Pisa. In the Middle Ages this was a great shrine for pilgrimages, being, it is said, built on the spot on which St. Peter first set foot in Italy. (Gradus—a step.) Legend (supported by the assertion of a certain Archbishop Visconti, who preached in Pisa in the thirteenth century) says that the Apostle Peter was driven ashore at that spot, and having made an altar he began to baptize—giving his disciples commands to build a church there. What the first church was like is not known; the present one was built between 600 and 800 A.D., and was decorated with frescoes before A.D. 1000. There is a great similarity in structure between this building and that of S. Apollinare in Ravenna; they are both of similar brick masonry, and three-apsed, and the aisles are in about the same proportion to the greater height of the nave. The proportions of the short round arches on the tall classic columns of the interior are extremely similar, as is the scheme of ornamentation, with the difference that at Ravenna the medium is mosaic, and at S. Pietro a Grado it is fresco. The line of Bishops in the spring of the arches in Ravenna is reproduced at Grado by a line of Popes in medallions, ending with Leo III., 795, which would probably mark the era of the foundation of the church.[82]
San Pietro, however, has one very great peculiarity. It has no façade, but is built with the usual Lombard three apses at one end, and a single semi-circular tribune at the other. The only door is at the side. The priest, who is naturally proud of his church, and learned in its history, told us that by this peculiar form the builders wished to represent a ship, and pointing out the great square pilasters that break the line of columns at the fourth arch from the west, he showed how the raised poop of a vessel was expressed by the greater height and width of the four arches at the west end. Certainly the narrowing effect being towards the chancel instead of the reverse, is most remarkable.
I was not, however, convinced by his symbolism, and realizing the greater proportions of the west end, where three arches with fluted columns stretched across a tribune, now turned into an organ-loft, I felt convinced that the present form was not the original. Either the ancient altar once stood at the west end, and the church, like so many Lombard ones, had formerly faced the opposite way; or else the semi-circular tribune, which seems to be of later work, has been added by restorers, to cover in the three arches of the ancient façade. That, in fact, the large solid pilasters in the nave marked the ancient wall of the interior, and the four arches on the other side of them formed the narthex. To support the first theory, is the fact that the altar called St. Peter's altar stands now isolated in that west end, and the canopy in the form of an ancient Lombard ciborium stands on four columns above it, carved in stone in very early style. The opposite theory of the narthex having been at that end, may on its side be confirmed by one of the frescoes, the last but two on the south wall, which represents the church itself as it was prior to A.D. 1000. Here the artist has, with a curious mediæval disregard of perspective and possibility, represented both ends of the church in one view, and here we see plainly the three apses with their marble perpendicular ribs on one side, and the façade of large arches with a row of smaller ones across the building above them on the other. I leave the question of this puzzling west tribune to wiser judges than myself, and trust that some new Fergusson, Hope, or Street may some day discover the truth.
The columns of the nave are all of antique marble, the ruins of a Roman temple to Ceres at Pisa; some are of cipollino, others Oriental granite, one is of fluted white Greek marble. The capitals are mostly antique and classical, though a few show the hand of the early Comacine in their straight upstanding volutes. The ingenuity of the Magistri in making use of old material is shown in the various devices by which these columns are adapted. Where they are too short the base is raised on two pedestals; where too small for the massive pillar, a wide abacus is placed on the top to support the arch. One of the columns which support the altar is made long enough by a base made of an antique carved capital reversed beneath it. We have a distinct sign of the Comacines in a stone let into the wall near the door, and which evidently formed part of the ancient architrave. It is carved in an intricate interlaced knot. I shall speak in the chapter on Comacine painting, of the frescoes in the nave, which are unique of their kind, and of deep interest to the Art historian.