Every visitor to Rome makes, or is expected to make, a journey through the catacombs. Very soon after my arrival in the Eternal City I started to make this tour. Our party went first, as a preparation for visiting the catacombs, to one of the churches (the Church of the Capuchins), which is in charge of about twenty-four monks. Underneath the church is the place where the monks after their death are buried. The earth in which they are placed came originally from Jerusalem, and the monks consider it a great honor to be planted there. This number of monks—not the same ones, by any means—have been in charge of the church for several centuries. Whenever any of them dies, he is buried with a good deal of ceremony; and, in order to find a place for him, the bones of one of his predecessors are dug up. The space is sufficiently large for burying forty or fifty persons, so that when one of the number has been placed under ground he is not likely to be disturbed for ten or twenty years. His bones, when removed from the earth, are placed with those of his predecessors. They are not piled up in heaps, as one might naturally suppose, but are fastened to the walls and ceilings of the little rooms that cover the cemetery.
Some of the walls are entirely covered with these bones. As you look at the walls a little distance away, you would think they were frescoed; but a near approach shows you that, instead of being fresco, it is alto-relievo. For example, one wall will have in its centre a skull, and around it will be a select assortment of the bones of the forearm. Then sections of the back-bone, fragments of fingers, toes, and all the bones familiar to the student of anatomy, will be arranged in artistic order, so that the wall forms an interesting picture. Sometimes the bones are arranged in the shape of wheels, and some of them are formed into wheels and stars.
CATACOMBS OF ROME.—THE THREE BROTHERS.
One of the peculiar things connected with the visit to this spot is, that you are shown through the place by one of the monks, who stands complacently by, calling your attention to the bones of his predecessor, and regarding with calm satisfaction the prominent positions which they occupy. He knows very well that one of these days he will go into the earth which his lantern illuminates, and a few years later his bones will form a part of the mural ornaments. He contemplates death with satisfaction, as he knows he will be buried in a conspicuous resting-place, where people can call upon and admire him. The monk that guided us through the burial-ground was enthusiastic rather than otherwise, and seemed to look forward with delight to the time when he should form a part of an alto-relievo.
IRREVERENT COMMENTS.
An irreverent member of our party proposed asking the monk if he did not think there would be a good deal of confusion at the day of judgment, when Gabriel’s trumpet sounds, and the bones undertake to sort themselves out and get together. He suggested that the arms, and legs, and fingers, and toes, and back-bone joints would be a good deal mixed up, and that fragments of a dozen monks might be collected together and present themselves as one individual. He said the head of Brother Ignatius, the body of Brother Francis, and the arm of Brother Peter might be mixed up with the legs of Brother Simon, and an arm, or leg, or a rib of somebody else. We reproved him soundly for his levity, and told him he had better go.
Some of the catacombs are entered beneath the churches, while others are entered in the open ground. The first one we went to after leaving the church was at the right of the Appian Way, a little distance outside the city. There was a party inside when we reached there, and the guide who took us in charge said that the rules forbade two parties going down at the same time, and that we could not descend until the other returned; so we loitered around for a little time, until our predecessors came out. We found ourselves in the middle of a field, part of it cultivated and part of it in rich, luxuriant grass. To all external appearances the ground beneath was perfectly solid, and we almost began to think we had come to the wrong place.
The guide preceded us to a little hollow or excavation, down which there was a flight of steps. We stood around this until we saw some heads emerge from the ground two or three hundred yards away; then the guide descended the steps, and we followed him. He unlocked a door and allowed us to enter; then he locked the door after us, and we found ourselves standing in a place where there was very little light, and it was evident that we must have candles before proceeding farther.