The column of Marcus Aurelius in the Piazza Colonna, is a similar though less perfect structure.
But the obelisks in Rome are more remarkable than the columns. When we think of the difficulty we have recently had in removing to London a single obelisk, and that not of the largest size, it seems incredible to hear, notwithstanding Rome is so much nearer Egypt, that at one time there were no less than forty-eight Egyptian obelisks standing in that city. Of these, only twelve now remain visible and erect, and most of them have been removed from other positions they formerly occupied in Rome. The remainder, excepting two (one taken to France, and the other to Florence), are, it is supposed, buried in the ruins of ancient Rome. The twelve now standing vary in height from a very short one, 8 feet 6 inches high, to the largest, 102 feet high, not reckoning the pedestals, which—in some cases inappropriate—add much to the height, nor the additions, equally inappropriate, made to some of them upon the apex. All have been hewn out of the syenite red granite quarries of Egypt, but three of them, including that in the Piazza of St. Peter, were extracted by the Romans themselves from these quarries, and have no hieroglyphics, the hieroglyphic inscriptions on the remainder attesting their true Egyptian origin. The obelisk now in London is 68 feet 5½ inches high, being scarcely the height of the fourth in size in Rome, which is 69 feet. But the weight of the London obelisk is only 186 tons, while the weight of the largest (also the oldest, dating back to 1740 B.C.) obelisk in Rome, that placed before the Church of St. John Lateran, is 437 tons, or considerably more than double. The removal to Rome of this last-mentioned huge and weighty block of stone, and its erection on its pedestal, was an undertaking of immense labour and cost, taxing the resources and appealing to the honour of emperors for its accomplishment. The mere erection upon its present position of that now standing in the Piazza of St. Peter’s (the second in size, and weighing 331 tons), in the time of Sextus V., cost £9000. It was on this memorable occasion, when under pain of death, certain to be inflicted, all were commanded to be silent, and the ropes were about to give way, the Italian sailor from Bordighera, at the peril of his life, called out, ‘Wet the ropes!’ and saved the obelisk from destruction. He was himself pardoned, and obtained for Bordighera as reward the privilege of supplying Rome with palm leaves at Easter.
Outside the walls of Rome, particularly on entering or leaving by railway, long lines of lofty arches are seen, more or less ruinous (having suffered dilapidation at the hand of enemies), which supported aqueducts by which ancient Rome was supplied with water. At one time there were no less than twenty-four of these aqueducts, entering Rome from various distances. The water was brought along on the gravitation principle, the inclination being believed to have been 1 foot in 400; for although it seems the Romans were acquainted with the scientific fact of which we now avail ourselves, that water in a closed pipe will find its own level, they did not to any extent act upon their knowledge of it. The water so brought in was distributed to an immense number of small reservoirs, or wells or fountains, for the use of the inhabitants, the surplus water being scrupulously employed to flush and scour the sewers. But it was also used to supply the baths of Rome. The bath was regarded by the old Romans as a necessary of life; and many luxurious men, who had not the newspaper or the last new book to wile away the time, bathed as often as seven or eight times a day—great and small, men and women, all mingling promiscuously in the water. To provide for this voluptuous habit, the baths were numerous, and constructed on an enormous scale. There were no less than sixteen establishments throughout Rome, intended not merely for the purposes of ablution, but to supply other means of recreation, and public places where the citizens might meet each other. The Thermæ of Agrippa, of Caracalla, of Constantine, of Diocletian, and of Titus, still exist in ruins, some of them exemplifying their magnitude. Those of Diocletian, close by the railway station, were the most extensive, measuring more than a mile in circumference. Our time permitted of a visit to only one of these Thermæ, the Thermæ of Caracalla, which, enormous in extent as they were, were only half as large as those of Diocletian. They lie about three-quarters of a mile from the Arch of Constantine, and usually, in a drive to the Catacombs of St. Calixtus, are taken going or returning. The extent of the rooms is something marvellous. The building itself was an oblong enclosed by walls, and is stated to be above 700 feet in length, by nearly 400 feet wide, or nearly half a mile in circuit.[32] Little remains of the structure excepting huge walls or carcases of brick, at one time covered with plates or blocks of marble, which have been removed, and either used in churches or other buildings, or, in accordance with a very vexatious custom, burnt for lime. The rooms, as indicated by the ruins left, must have been of great magnificence, not merely from their size and their marble pillars, coating, and flooring, but from the mosaics with which they were inlaid, and the splendid statues with which they were adorned. Some of the statues have been dug out of the ruins, and among them the famous large group called the Farnese Bull, which we saw in the museum of Naples, with many others now deposited in the museums of that city and of Rome. To accommodate the bathers, there were placed around the baths polished marble chairs (cool seats for the undressed), in those of Caracalla to the number of 1600, in those of Diocletian to the number of 3200. The scene during the bathing hours was no doubt very animated, for the baths were crowded.
I may here state that the supply of water to modern Rome is both abundant and of good quality, a circumstance of great importance, and not always to be reckoned upon in other Italian cities, where the water is looked upon, perhaps justly, with great suspicion.
The Catacombs of Rome are very numerous and of great extent, and it has been calculated that if all the passages were placed in continuous line, they would extend to 545 miles. Those of Calixtus are what are most commonly visited.
The drive to the Catacombs of Calixtus is very interesting; the ground lies by the Appian Way some distance out of the city, and beyond the Porta St. Sebastian. On the way the tombs of the Cæsars and Scipios are passed, and in a neighbouring private garden (on entering which it is highly proper to settle the fee to be paid) there are two buildings sunk in the ground, termed Columbaria—pigeon-holes—apartments probably about 20 feet square, judging from recollection. Descending by a narrow stair, the walls are found covered over with small plates of marble, and under each plate a little niche is formed, containing a vase. The marble plates bear the names of persons deceased, and in the vases below their ashes were deposited. They are curious, carrying one back to ancient times, and becoming, too, a sort of preparative for the visit to the Catacombs, to see which a permesso is requisite, a fee being, however, paid at exit to the conductor for each person, varying a little in amount according to the number. As soon as a sufficient party is collected, and waiting until the party which may be below has reappeared, for only one set is taken at a time, the man in charge of the Catacombs makes up the company for the visit. Each person then lights the taper with which he or she ought to be provided (which, as tapers are not supplied at the place, must be brought from the city, a circumstance sometimes overlooked), and descent is made by a stair. The visitors are rapidly marched or whisked along the narrow intricate passages, on each side of which they see the catacombs in which the bodies of persons deceased were formerly laid—the great burial-place of the first Christians. There are many old Latin inscriptions, which the guide stops a minute to point out; but with a very large number it is difficult for all to get near him. It does not appear as if the passages lay far below ground, I should imagine not exceeding 50 feet; but though the air is warm, it is a dismal place, which the generality of people, seeing once, will not care to see again. One requires to be careful to follow the guide to avoid being lost. The examination does not occupy so much as half an hour.
On returning to the light of day we were glad to take a drive farther along the Appian Way. This famous old Roman road was constructed at enormous cost, and was 26 feet wide. At one part a mountain was cut down 120 feet, to obtain that levelness which the Romans always desired for their roads. In its original state it must have offered a very remarkable scene. For, though not unusual for the Romans to bury, or at least to erect monuments to the dead, along the side of public roads, the Appian Way was the favourite part for entombment. For many miles on each side it was lined by sculptured monuments or tombs in marble, of more or less size or magnificence. But all that is now left is, in general, nothing but portions of the brick carcases which underlay the stone or marble surface. Vast numbers of these monuments have been destroyed for the sake of the material. The only notable monument remaining to some extent in preservation is the large and massive tomb of Cecilia Metella—a circular tower 70 feet in diameter, the walls of which are 25 feet thick. Its strength caused it at one time to be used as a fortress. The Appian Way itself fell into ruin and became impassable, but has now been cleared; and one can look along it and see it proceeding as far as the eye can reach in a straight line. It terminates at Puteoli, which when we were at Naples we visited, and so had the good fortune, if it may be so called, to pass over both ends of the road, immortalized by the Scripture record as that by which the Apostle Paul went on his way to Rome.
Mr. Thomson, in an interesting paper on the Recent Excavations in Rome, in which he gives, by illustrative restorations as proposed by Canina of monuments in portions of the Way, some idea of its grandeur, says (p. 28):
‘Altogether the Via Appia, when in its pristine glory, must have been a wondrous scene, with its innumerable monuments extending on both sides of fifteen miles of roadway, varied by occasional villas of great extent and beauty, by temples, by exedræ or covered seats, and by fountains. These are of every age and style, from the simplest republican to the richest adornments of imperial times.
‘The Via Appia was the road by which travellers from Spain, or Africa, or the East, arrived at the city.