Here the holy confessors whom Greece sent us;
Here lie youths and boys, old men and their chaste offspring,
Who chose, as the better part, to keep their virgin chastity.
Here I, Damasus, confess I wished to lay my limbs,
But I feared to disturb the holy ashes of the saints.”[306]
An ancient itinerary states that eighty, or, according to one account, eight hundred, martyrs are buried in this part of the Catacomb; and in the corner of this very crypt is a pit of remarkable depth, probably the polyandria, in which were “heaped together a whole crowd” of the victims of persecution.
Besides these restorations of Damasus, there is evidence of successive decorations of this celebrated shrine down to the period of Leo III., at the end of the eighth century. So great have been the changes thus caused that De Rossi confesses that it is impossible to say what was the original character of the chamber.
Adjoining the “Papal Crypt” is that of St. Cecilia, (O, [Fig. 26],) to which we pass from the former through a narrow doorway in the rock. This is one of the largest cubicula in the Catacombs, being nearly twenty feet square, and is flooded with light by a large luminare. The chamber, which gives evidence of having been greatly enlarged from its original dimensions, was once lined with marble and mosaic, as were also the sides of the doorway and the arch above. It has also been frequently adorned with paintings, a sure indication of its especial sanctity. Among these are a large head of Our Lord, of the Byzantine type, with a Greek nimbus, in a semicircular niche,
and a full-length figure of St. Urban in pontifical robes, with his name inscribed. Both of these, De Rossi thinks, belong to the tenth or eleventh century. Another picture, probably of the seventh century, of a richly attired Roman lady with jeweled bracelets and necklace, is conjectured to represent St. Cecilia. A large recess in the wall next to the “Papal Crypt” is thought to have held her sarcophagus. De Rossi and his English editors seem to accept substantially the Romish legend of this celebrated martyr. Protestant readers, however, will take the liberty of rejecting the miraculous part of the story as an invention of the fifth century, when the legend first appears.
St. Cecilia, virgin and martyr, according to her rather apocryphal Acts, was a maiden of noble rank—ingenua, nobilis, clarissima. She sang so sweetly that the angels descended to listen to her voice; and to her is ascribed the invention of the organ, which is therefore her attribute in art. She was betrothed to Valerian, a pagan of patrician rank, yet had vowed to be the spouse of Christ alone. She confessed her vow to Valerian on her marriage-day, and assured him that she was ever guarded by an angel of God, who would avenge its violation. He promised to respect her vow if he might behold her celestial visitant. She told him that his eyes must be first illumed by faith and purged with spiritual euphrasy by baptism, and sent him to St. Urban, then hiding in the Catacomb of Callixtus, who instructed and baptized him. On his return he found Cecilia praying, with an angel by her side who crowned her with immortal flowers—the lilies of purity and the roses of martyrdom. His brother Tiburtius came in, and, struck with the heavenly fragrance, for it was not the time of flowers, he also was converted and baptized. Refusing to