Old Continental Towns

by Walter M. Gallichan

Romulus, the legendary founder, was supposed to have lived B.C. 752. The growth of the community on the Seven Hills began, according to the old annalists, with a settlement of shepherds. We are told that after the death of Romulus, the first king, the city was ruled by Numa Pompilius. This sovereign instituted nine guilds of industry, and united the mixed population. Tarquinius Superbus, the despotic king, reigned with fanatical religious austerity, and after his banishment Rome became a republic.

The first system of rule was sacerdotal, the second aristocratic, and the third a state of liberty for the plebeians. Then came the Gauls who burned the city to the ground and harried the whole country. Hannibal and Scipio arose, and we enter upon the period of the great Punic Wars, followed by the stirring epoch of Cæsar and Pompey.

How shall we separate myth and simple tradition from the veracious chronicles of the Roman people? What were the causes of the downfall of their proud city, and the decadence of the great race that invaded all quarters of Europe? These are the questions which fill the mind as we wander to-day in Rome. We are reminded of the menace of wealth, the insecurity of prosperity, and the devastating influence of militarism and the lust of conquest. We meditate, too, on the spirit of persecution that flourished here, the love of ferocity, and the cruelty that characterised the recreations of the city under the emperors.

With all its eminence in art and industry, in spite of its high distinction in the science of warfare, and its elaborate jurisprudence and codes, Rome, at one time terrorised by Nero, at another humanely governed by Aurelius, was in its last state a melancholy symbol of decrepitude and failure. The final stage of degradation was worse than the primitive period of barbarism and superstition.

In the Middle Ages, at the time when most of the wealth went to the Popes of Avignon, the city had fallen into pitiful decay. The majestic St Peter’s was threatened by destruction through lack of repair; the Capitol was described as on a level with “a town of cowherds.”

The monarchy of Rome is said to have endured for about two hundred and forty years. The city extended then over a wide area, and was protected by walls and towers. The Coliseum, the Pantheon, and the Forum were built as Rome grew in might and magnificence, and the Roman style of architecture became a model for the world. Happily these structures have survived. The Rome of pagan days and the Rome of the Renaissance are mingled here strangely, and the pomp and affluence of former times contrasts with the poverty of to-day that meets us in the streets.

Note the faces of the people; here are features stern and regular, recalling often old prints of the Romans of history. The dress of the poorer women is ancient, while that of the upper classes is as modern as the costumes of Paris, Berlin, or London. On days of fête it is interesting to watch these people at play, all animated with a southern gaiety which the northerner may envy. The life of Rome is outdoor; folk loiter and congregate in the streets; there is much traffic of vehicles used for pleasure. Over the city stretches “the Italian sky,” ardently blue—the sky that we know from paintings before we have visited Rome—and upon the white buildings shines a hot sun from which we shrink in midsummer noons.

It is hard to decide which appeals to us the more strongly in Rome—the relics of Cæsar’s empire or the art of the Middle Ages. The Coliseum brings to mind “the grandeur that was Rome,” in the days of the pagan majesty, while St Peter’s, with its wealth of gorgeous decoration and great paintings, reminds us of the supreme power of the city under the popes.

In the Coliseum there is social history written in stone. We look upon the tiers rising one above the other, and picture them in all the splendour of a day of cruel carnival. We may see traces of the lifts that brought the beasts to the arena from the dens below.