Comacine Panel from the Church of San Clemente, Rome. The Lattice-work is made of a single strand interlaced. Date, 6th century.
We will leave the Oriental theory aside as too vague and traditional for proof, depending as it does on a few Oriental symbols, and certain forms of decoration, and will look nearer home—even to Rome, with which a connection may certainly be found, and that in a form visible to our modern eyes.
Rome is almost as full of remains of what is now styled Comacine architecture, as it is of classic and pagan ruins, and they are nearly as deeply buried. Go where you will, and in the vestibules or crypts of churches, now of gaudy Renaissance style, you will find the sign and seal of the ancient guild. Investigate any church which has a Lombard tower—and they are many—and you will discover that the hands which built that many-windowed tower have left their mark on the church. In that wonderful third-century basilica, which was discovered beneath the thirteenth-century one of S. Clemente; in the almost subterranean basilica of S. Agnese fuori le mura; in the vestibule of the florid modern SS. Apostoli; in Santa Maria in Cosmedin; and various other buildings, are wonderful old slabs of marble with complicated Comacine knots on them. Our illustration is from a slab in San Clemente, which was evidently from the buried church, though used as a panel in the parapet of the existing choir. A marvellous piece of basket-work in marble, which, if studied, will be found composed of a single cord, twined and intertwined. An almost identical panel is preserved in the wall of the staircase to S. Agnese, another has just been found reversed, and the back of it used for the thirteenth-century mosaic decoration of the pulpit in S. Maria in Cosmedin.
Then in the later Lombard churches of S. Lorenzo in Lucina, SS. Giovanni e Paolo, S. John Lateran, etc., one may see the crouching Comacine lions, now mostly minus their pillars, and shoved under square door-lintels, or built into walls, where they remain to tell of the ancient builders whose sign and seal they were.
And here and there we get a name.
In the vestibule of the SS. Apostoli is a red marble lion, on the base of which in Gothic letters is the name BASSALECTI. Beneath it is an old inscription, "Opus magister Bassalecti Marmorari Romano sec, XIII." This same Magister's name, spelt Vassalecti, has lately been discovered inscribed on the capitals of some columns in the nave of S. John Lateran.
In the under church of S. Clemente, an ancient fresco of the eighth century takes us further back than this. Here we see a veritable Roman Magister directing his men. He stands in magisterial toga (and surely one may descry a masonic apron beneath it!), directing his men in the moving of a marble column, and with the naïve simplicity of the primitive artist each man's name is written beside him. Albertel and Cosmaris are dragging up the column with a rope, the sons of Pute, who are possibly novices, are helping them, while Carvoncelle is lifting it from behind with a lever. These men are all in short jerkins, but the master, Sisinius, is standing in his toga, directing them with outstretched hand.
Here is the Magister of a Roman Collegium embalmed and preserved for us, that we may see him and his men at work as they were in the early centuries after Christ. We know that Masonic Collegia were still existing in Rome in the time of Constantine and Theodosius; we know that Constantine built the basilica of S. Agnese, afterwards restored by Pope Symmachus; also those of S. Lorenzo—at least the round-arched part of it—enlarged by Galla Placidia in the fifth century; S. Paolo fuori le Mura, and other ancient churches. We see from remains recently brought to light, that these were originally of the exact plan of the churches built "in the Roman manner" at Hexham and York in England, and of the Ravenna churches, and S. Pietro in Grado at Pisa, also nearly contemporary. We further realize that all of these were identical in style with the finer specimens of Lombard building some centuries later. There is only the natural decline of art which would have taken place in the century or two of barbarian invasion, between the two epochs, but the traditionary forms, methods, etc., are all reproduced in the Lombard-Comacine churches. Compare the fourth-century door of the church of S. Marcello at Capua with the eighth-century one of S. Michele at Pavia, and you will find precisely the same style of art. Compare the Roman capitals of the church of Santa Costanza, built by Constantine, with the capitals in any Comacine church up to 1200, and you will see the same mixture of Ionic and a species of Corinthian with upstanding volutes. Some of the Comacine buildings have these upright volutes plain instead of foliaged. The effect is rude, but I think these plainer capitals were not a sign of incapacity in the architects of the guild, for one sees richly ornate ones on the same building. It was only the stock design of the inferior masters, when funds did not allow of payment for richer work.