I. ETRURIA
CONTENTS.
Historical notice—Temples—Rock-cut Tombs—Tombs at Castel d’Asso—Tumuli.
CHRONOLOGICAL MEMORANDA.
Migration from Asia Minor about 12th cent. B.C. Tomb of Porsenna about B.C. 500 Etruria becomes subject to Rome about B.C. 330
The ethnographical history of art in Italy is in all its essential features similar to that of Greece, though arriving at widely different results from causes the influence of which it is easy to trace. Both are examples of an Aryan development based on a Turanian civilisation which it has superseded. In Greece—as already remarked—the traces of the earlier people are indistinct and difficult to seize. In Italy their features are drawn with a coarser hand, and extend down into a more essentially historic age. It thus happens that we have no doubt as to the existence of the Etruscan people—we know very nearly who they were, and cannot be mistaken as to the amount and kind of influence they exercised on the institutions and arts of the Romans.
The more striking differences appear to have arisen from the fact, that Greece had some four or five centuries of comparative repose during which to form herself and her institutions after the Pelasgic civilisation was struck down at the time of the Dorian occupation of the Peloponnesus. During that period she was undisturbed by foreign invasion, and was not tempted by successful conquests to forsake the gentler social arts for the more vulgar objects of national ambition. Rome’s history, on the other hand, from the earliest aggregation of a robber horde on the banks of the Tiber till she became the arbiter of the destinies of the ancient world, is little beyond the record of continuous wars. From the possession of the seven hills, Rome gradually carried her sway at the edge of the sword to the dominion of the whole of Italy and of all the then known world, destroying everything that stood in the way of her ambition, and seeking only the acquisition of wealth and power.
Greece, in the midst of her successful cultivation of the arts of commerce and of peace, stimulated by the wholesome rivalry of the different States of which she was composed, was awakened by the Persian invasion to a struggle for existence. The result was one of the most brilliant passages in the world’s history, and no nation was ever more justified in the jubilant outburst of enthusiastic patriotism that followed the repulse of the invader, than was Greece in that with which she commenced her short but brilliant career. A triumph so gained by a people so constituted led to results at which we still wonder, though they cause us no surprise. If Greece attained her manhood on the battle-fields of Marathon and Salamis, Rome equally reached the maturity of her career when she cruelly and criminally destroyed Corinth and Carthage, and the sequel was such as might be expected from such a difference of education. Rome had no time for the cultivation of the arts of peace, and as little sympathy for their gentler influences. Conquest, wealth, and consequent power, were the objects of her ambition—for these she sacrificed everything, and by their means she attained a pinnacle of greatness that no nation had reached before or has since. Her arts have all the impress of this greatness, and are characterised by the same vulgar grandeur which marks everything she did. Very different they are from the intellectual beauty found in the works of the Greeks, but in some respects they are as interesting to those who can read the character of nations in their artistic productions.
In the earlier part of her career Rome was an Etruscan city under Etruscan kings and institutions. After she had emancipated herself from their yoke, Etruria long remained her equal and her rival in political power, and her instructress in religion and the arts of peace. This continued so long, and the architectural remains of that people are so numerous, and have been so thoroughly investigated, that we have no difficulty in ascertaining the extent of influence the older nation had on the nascent empire. It is more difficult to ascertain exactly who the Etruscans themselves were, or whence they came. But on the whole there seems every reason to believe they migrated from Asia Minor some twelve or thirteen centuries before the Christian era, and fixed themselves in Italy, most probably among the Umbrians, or some people of cognate race, who had settled there before—so long before, perhaps, as to entitle them to be considered among the aboriginal inhabitants.
It would have been only natural that the expatriated Trojans should have sought refuge among such a kindred people, though we have nothing but the vaguest tradition to warrant a belief that this was the case. They may too from time to time have received other accessions to their strength; but they were a foreign people in a strange land, and scarcely seem ever to have become naturalised in the country of their adoption. But what stood still more in their way was the fact that they were an old Turanian people in presence of a young and ambitious community of Aryan origin, and, as has always been the case when this has happened, they were destined to disappear. Before doing so, however, they left their impress on the institutions and the arts of their conquerors to such an extent as to be still traceable in every form. It may have been that there was as much Pelasgic blood in the veins of the Greeks as there was Etruscan in those of the Romans; but the civilisation of the former had passed away before Greece had developed herself. Etruria, on the other hand, was long contemporary with Rome: in early times her equal, and sometimes her mistress, and consequently in a position to force her arts upon her to an extent that was never effected on the opposite shore of the Adriatic.
TEMPLES.
Nothing can prove more clearly the Turanian origin of the Etruscans than the fact that all we know of them is derived from their tombs. These exist in hundreds—it may almost be said in thousands—at the gates of every city; but no vestige of a temple has come down to our days. Had any Semitic blood flowed in their veins, as has been sometimes suspected, they could not have been so essentially sepulchral as they were, or so fond of contemplating death, as is proved by the fact that a purely Semitic tomb is still a desideratum among antiquaries, not one having as yet been discovered. What we should like to find in Etruria would be a square pyramidal mound with external steps leading to a cella on its summit; but no trace of any such has yet been detected. Their other temples—using the word in the sense in which we usually understand it—were, as might be expected, insignificant and ephemeral. So much so, indeed, that except from one passage in Vitruvius,[158] and our being able to detect the influence of the Etruscan style in the buildings of Imperial Rome, we should hardly be aware of their existence. The truth seems to be that the religion of the Etruscans, like that of most of their congeners, was essentially ancestral, and their worship took the form of respect for the remains of the dead and reverence for their memory. Tombs consequently, and not temples, were the objects on which they lavished their architectural resources. They certainly were not idolaters, in the sense in which we usually understand the term. They had no distinct or privileged priesthood, and consequently had no motive for erecting temples which by their magnificence should be pleasing to their gods or tend to the glorification of their kings or priests. Still less were they required for congregational purposes by the people at large.
The only individual temple of Etruscan origin of which we have any knowledge, is that of Capitoline Jupiter at Rome.[159] Originally small, it was repaired and rebuilt till it became under the Empire a splendid fane. But not one vestige of it now remains, nor any description from which we could restore its appearance with anything like certainty.
From the chapter of the work of Vitruvius just alluded to, we learn that the Etruscans had two classes of temples: one circular, like their structural tombs, and dedicated to one deity; the other class rectangular, but these, always possessing three cells, were devoted to the worship of three gods.
The general arrangement of the plan, as described by Vitruvius, was that shown on the plan above (Fig. 1), and is generally assented to by all those who have attempted the restoration. In larger temples in Roman times the number of pillars in front may have been doubled, and they would thus be arranged like those of the portico of the Pantheon, which is essentially an Etruscan arrangement. The restoration of the elevation is more difficult, and the argument too long to be entered upon here;[160] but its construction and proportions seem to have been very much like those drawn in the above diagram (Fig. 2). Of course, as wooden structures, they were richly and elaborately carved, and the effect heightened by colours, but it is in vain to attempt to restore them. Without a single example to guide us, and with very little collateral evidence which can at all be depended upon, it is hardly possible that any satisfactory restoration could now be made. Moreover, their importance in the history of art is so insignificant, that the labour such an attempt must involve would hardly be repaid by the result.
The original Etruscan circular temple seems to have been a mere circular cell with a porch. The Romans surrounded it with a peristyle, which probably did not exist in the original style. They magnified it afterwards into the most characteristic and splendid of all their temples, the Pantheon, whose portico is Etruscan in arrangement and design, and whose cell still more distinctly belongs to that order; nor can there be any doubt that the simpler Roman temples of circular form are derived from Etruscan originals.[161] It would therefore be of great importance if we could illustrate the later buildings from existing remains of the older: but the fact is that such deductions as we may draw from the copies are our only source of information respecting the originals.
We know little of any of the civil buildings with which the cities of Etruria were adorned, beyond the knowledge obtained from the remains of their theatres and amphitheatres. The form of the latter was essentially Etruscan, and was adopted by the Romans, with whom it became their most characteristic and grandest architectural object. Of the amphitheatres of ancient Etruria only one now remains in so perfect a state as to enable us to judge of their forms. It is that at Sutrium, which, however, being entirely cut in the rock, neither affords information as to the mode of construction nor enables us to determine its age. The general dimensions are 295 ft. in its greatest length by 265 in breadth, and it is consequently much nearer a circular form than the Romans generally adopted: but in other respects the arrangements are such as appear to have usually prevailed in after times.
Besides these, we have numerous works of utility, but these belong more strictly to engineering than to architectural science. The city walls of the Etruscans surpass those of any other ancient nation in extent and beauty of workmanship. Their drainage works and their bridges, as well as those of the kindred Pelasgians in Greece, still remain monuments of their industrial science and skill, which their successors never surpassed.
On the whole, perhaps we are justified in asserting that the Etruscans were not an architectural people, and had no temples or palaces worthy of attention. It at least seems certain that nothing of the sort is now to be found, even in ruins, and were it not that the study of Etruscan art is a necessary introduction to that of Roman, it would hardly be worth while trying to gather together and illustrate the few fragments and notices of it that remain.
TOMBS.
The tombs of the Etruscans now found may be divided into two classes—first, those cut in the rock, and resembling dwelling-houses; secondly, the circular tumuli, which latter are by far the most numerous and important class.
Each of these may be again subdivided into two kinds. The rock-cut tombs include, firstly, those with only a façade on the face of the rock and a sepulchral chamber within; secondly, those cut quite out of the rock and standing free all round. To this class probably once belonged an immense number of tombs built in the ordinary way; but all these have totally disappeared, and consequently the class, as now under consideration, consists entirely of excavated examples.
The second class may be divided into those tumuli erected over chambers cut in the tufaceous rock which is found all over Etruria, and those which have chambers built above-ground.
In the present state of our knowledge it is impossible to say which of these classes is the older. We know that the Egyptians buried in caves long before the Etruscans landed in Italy, and at the same time raised pyramids over rock-cut and built chambers. We know too that Abraham was buried in the Cave of Machpelah in Syria. On the other hand, the tombs at Smyrna (Woodcut No. 113), the treasuries of Mycenæ (Woodcut No. 124), the sepulchre of Alyattes (Woodcut No. 115), and many others, are proofs of the antiquity of the tumuli, which are found all over Europe and Asia, and appear to have existed from the earliest ages.
The comparative antiquity of the different kinds of tombs being thus doubtful, it will be sufficient for the purposes of the present work to classify them architecturally. It may probably be assumed, with safety, that all the modes which have been enumerated were practised by the Etruscans at a period very slightly subsequent to their migration into Italy.
Of the first class of the rock-cut tombs—those with merely a façade externally—the most remarkable group is that at Castel d’Asso. At this place there is a perpendicular cliff with hundreds of these tombs ranged along its face, like houses in a street. A similar arrangement is found in Egypt at Benihasan, at Petra, and Cyrene, and around all the more ancient cities of Asia Minor.
In Etruria they generally consist of one chamber lighted by the doorway only. Their internal arrangement appears to be an imitation of a dwelling chamber, with furniture, like the apartment itself, cut out of the rock. Externally they have little or no pretension to architectural decoration. It is true that some tombs are found adorned with frontispieces of a debased Doric or Ionic order; but these were executed at a much later period and under Roman domination, and cannot therefore be taken as specimens of Etruscan art, but rather of that corruption of style sure to arise from a conquered people trying to imitate the arts of their rulers.
The general appearance of the second class of rock-cut tombs will be understood from the woodcut (No. 168), representing two monuments at Castel d’Asso. Unfortunately neither is complete, nor is there any complete example known to exist of this class. Perhaps the apex was added structurally and that these, like all such things in Etruria, have perished. Possibly, if cut in the rock, the terminals were slender carved ornaments, and therefore liable to injury. They are usually restored by antiquaries in the shape of rectilinear pyramids, but so far as I know, there is no authority for this. On the contrary, it is more in accordance with what we know of the style and its affinities to suppose that the termination of these monuments, even if added in masonry, was curvilinear.
One remarkable thing about the rock-cut tombs is the form of their mouldings, which differ from any found elsewhere in Europe. Two of these are shown in the annexed woodcut (No. 169). They are very numerous and in great variety, but do not in any instance show the slightest trace of a cornice, nor of any tendency towards one. On the contrary, in place of this, we find nothing but a reverse moulding. It is probable that similar forms may be found in Asia Minor, while something resembling them actually occurs at Persepolis and elsewhere. It is remarkable that this feature did not penetrate to Rome, and that no trace of its influence is found there, as might have been expected.[162]
TUMULI.
The simplest, and therefore perhaps the earliest, monument which can be erected over the graves of the dead, by a people who reverence their departed relatives, is a mound of earth or a cairn of stones, and such seems to have been the form adopted by the Turanian or Tartar races of mankind from the earliest days to the present hour. It is scarcely necessary to remark how universal such monuments were among the ruder tribes of Northern Europe. The Etruscans improved upon this by surrounding the base with a podium, or supporting wall of masonry. This not only defined its limits and gave it dignity, but enabled entrances to be made in it, and otherwise converted it from a mere hillock into a monumental structure. It is usually supposed that this basement was an invariable part of all Etruscan tumuli, and when it is not found, it is assumed that it has been removed, or that it is buried in the rubbish of the mound. No doubt such a stone basement may easily have been removed by the peasantry, or buried, but it is by no means clear that this was invariably the case. It seems that the enclosure was frequently a circle of stones or monumental steles, in the centre of which the tumulus stood. The monuments have hitherto been so carelessly examined and restored, that it is difficult to arrive at anything like certainty with regard to the details of their structure. Nor can we draw any certain conclusion from a comparison with other tumuli of cognate races. The description by Herodotus of the tomb of Alyattes at Sardis (Woodcut No. 115), those described by Pausanias as existing in the Peloponnesus, and the appearances of those at Mycenæ and Orchomenos, might be interpreted either way; but those at Smyrna (Woodcut No. 113), and a great number at least of those in Etruria, have a structural circle of stone as a supporting base to the mound.
These tumuli are found existing in immense numbers in every necropolis of the Etruscans. A large space was generally set apart for the purpose outside the walls of all their great cities. In these cemeteries the tumuli are arranged in rows, like houses in streets. Even now we can count them by hundreds, and in the neighbourhood of the largest cities—at Vulci, for instance—almost by thousands.
Most of them are now worn down by the effect of time to nearly the level of the ground, though some of the larger ones still retain an imposing appearance. Nearly all have been rifled at some early period, though the treasures still discovered almost daily in some places show how vast their extent was, and how much even now remains to be done before this vast mine of antiquity can be said to be exhausted.
One of the most remarkable among those that have been opened in modern times is at Cervetri, the ancient Cære, known as the Regulini Galeassi tomb, from the names of its discoverers.
Like a Nubian pyramid or Buddhist tope, it consists of an inner and older tumulus, around and over which another has been added. In the outer mound are five tombs either of dependent or inferior personages. These were rifled long ago; but the outer pyramid having effectually concealed the entrance to the principal tomb, it remained untouched till very lately, when it yielded to its discoverers a richer collection of ornaments and utensils in gold and bronze than has ever been found in one place before.
The dimensions and arrangements of this tumulus will be understood from Woodcuts Nos. 170, 171, and from the two sections of the principal tomb which are annexed to them. These last display an irregularity of construction very unusual in such cases, for which no cause can be assigned. The usual section is perfectly regular, as in the annexed woodcut (No. 172), taken from another tomb at the same place.
These chambers, like all those of the early Etruscans, are vaulted on the horizontal principle, like the tombs at Mycenæ and Orchomenos, though none are found in Italy at all equal to those of Greece in dimensions or beauty of construction.
Woodcut No. 173 is a perspective view of the principal chamber in the Regulini Galeassi tomb, showing the position of the furniture found in it when first opened, consisting of biers or bedsteads, shields, arrows, and vessels of various sorts. A number of vases are hung in a curious recess in the roof, the form of which would be inexplicable but for the utensils found in it. With this clue to its meaning we can scarcely doubt that it represents a place for hanging such vessels in the houses of the living.
All the treasures found in this tomb are in the oldest style of Etruscan art, and are so similar to the bronzes and ornaments brought by Layard from Assyria as to lead to the belief that they had a common origin. The tomb, with its contents, probably dates from the 9th or 10th century before the Christian era.
The largest tomb hitherto discovered in Etruria is now known as the Cocumella, in the necropolis at Vulci. It is rather more than 240 ft. in diameter, and originally could not have been less than 115 or 120 ft. in height, though now it only rises to 50 ft.
Near its centre are the remains of two solid towers, one circular, the other square, neither of them actually central, nor are they placed in such a way that we can understand how they can have formed a part of any symmetrical design. A plan and a view of the present appearance of this monument are given in Woodcuts 174 and 175.
This tumulus, with its principal remaining features thus standing on one side of the centre, may possibly assist us to understand the curious description found in Pliny[163] of the tomb of Porsenna. This description is quoted from Varro, being evidently regarded by Pliny himself as not a little apocryphal. According to this account it consisted of a square basement 300 ft. each way, from which arose five pyramids, united at the summit by a bronze circle or cupola. This was again surmounted by four other pyramids, the summits of which were again united at a height of 300 ft. from the ground. From this point rose still five more pyramids, whose height Varro (from modesty, as Pliny surmises) omits to state, but which was estimated in Etruscan traditions at the same height as the rest of the monument. This last statement, which does not rest on any real authority, may well be regarded as exaggerated; but if we take the total height as about 400 ft., it is easy to understand that in the age of Pliny, when all the buildings were low, such a structure, as high as the steeple at Salisbury, would appear fabulous; but the vast piles that have been erected by tomb-building races in other parts of the earth render it by no means improbable that Varro was justified in what he asserted.[164]
Near the gate of Albano is found a small tomb of five pyramidal pillars rising from a square base, exactly corresponding with Varro’s description of the lower part of the tomb of Porsenna. It is called by tradition the tomb of Aruns, the son of Porsenna, though the character of the mouldings with which it is adorned would lead us to assign to it a more modern date. It consists of a lofty podium, on which are placed five pyramids, a large one in the centre and four smaller ones at the angles. Its present appearance is shown in the annexed woodcut (No. 176).
There are not in Etruria any features sufficiently marked to characterise a style of architecture, nor any pillars with their accessories which can be considered to constitute an order. It is true that in some of the rock-cut tombs square piers support the roof; and in one or two instances rounded pillars are found, but these are either without mouldings or ornamented only with Roman details, betraying the lateness of their execution. The absence of built examples of the class of tombs found in the rock prevents us from recognising any of those peculiarities of construction which sometimes are as characteristic of the style and as worthy of attention as the more purely ornamental parts.
From their city gates, their aqueducts and bridges, we know that the Etruscans used the radiating arch at an early age, with deep voussoirs and elegant mouldings, giving it that character of strength which the Romans afterwards imparted to their works of the same class. The Cloaca Maxima of Rome (Woodcut No. 104) must be considered as a work executed under Etruscan superintendence, and a very perfect specimen of the class.
At the same time the Etruscans used the pointed arch, constructed horizontally, and seem to have had the same predilection for it which characterised the cognate Pelasgian race in Greece. A gateway at Arpino (Woodcut No. 177) is almost identical with that at Thoricus (Woodcut No. 126), but larger and more elegant; and there are many specimens of the same class found in Italy. The portion of an aqueduct at Tusculum, shown in Woodcut No. 178, is a curious transition specimen, where the two stones meeting at the apex (usually called the Egyptian form, being the first step towards the true arch) are combined with a substructure of horizontal converging masonry.
In either of these instances the horizontal arch is a legitimate mode of construction, and may have been used long after the principle of the radiating arch was known. The great convenience of the latter, as enabling large spaces to be spanned even with brick or the smallest stones, and thus dispensing with the necessity for stones of very large dimensions, led ultimately to its universal adoption. Subsequently, when the pointed form of the radiating arch was introduced, no motive remained for the retention of the horizontal method, and it was entirely abandoned.
Introduction
We now approach the last revolution that completed and closed the great cycle of the arts and civilisation of the ancient world. We have seen Art spring Minerva-like, perfect from the head of her great parent, in Egypt. We have admired it in Assyria, rich, varied, but unstable; aiming at everything, but never attaining maturity or perfection. We have tried to trace the threads of early Pelasgic art in Asia, Greece, and Etruria, spreading their influence over the world, and laying the foundation of other arts which the Pelasgi were incapable of developing. We have seen all these elements gathered together in Greece, the essence extracted from each, and the whole forming the most perfect and beautiful combinations of intellectual power that the world has yet witnessed. We have now only to contemplate the last act in the great drama, the gorgeous but melancholy catastrophe by which all these styles of architecture were collected in wild confusion in Rome, and there perished beneath the luxury and crimes of that mighty people, who for a while made Rome the capital of Europe.
View them as we will, the arts of Rome were never an indigenous or natural production of the soil or people, but an aggregation of foreign styles in a state of transition from the old and time-honoured forms of Pagan antiquity to the new development introduced by Christianity. We cannot of course suppose that the Romans foresaw the result to which their amalgamation of previous styles was tending; still they advanced as steadily towards that result as if a prophetic spirit had guided them to a well-defined conception of what was to be. It was not however permitted to the Romans to complete this task. Long before the ancient methods and ideas had been completely moulded into the new, the power of Rome sank beneath her corruption, and a long pause took place, during which the Christian arts did not advance in Western Europe beyond the point they had reached in the age of Constantine. Indeed, in many respects, they receded from it during the dark ages. When they reappeared in the 10th and 11th centuries it was in an entirely new garb and with scarcely a trace of their origin—so distinct indeed that it appears more like a reinvention than a reproduction of forms long since familiar to the Roman world. Had Rome retained her power and pre-eminence a century or two longer, a style might have been elaborated as distinct from that of the ancient world, and as complete in itself, as our pointed Gothic, and perhaps more beautiful. Such was not the destiny of the world; and what we have now to do is to examine this transition style as we find it in ancient Rome, and familiarise ourselves with the forms it took during the three centuries of its existence, as without this knowledge all the arts of the Gothic era would for ever remain an inexplicable mystery. The chief value of the Roman style consists in the fact that it contains the germs of all that is found in the Middle Ages, and affords the key by which its mysteries may be unlocked, and its treasures rendered available. Had the transition been carried through in the hands of an art-loving and artistic people, the architectural beauties of Rome must have surpassed those of any other city in the world, for its buildings surpass in scale those of Egypt and in variety those of Greece, while they affect to combine the beauties of both. In constructive ingenuity they far surpass anything the world had seen up to that time, but this cannot redeem offences against good taste, nor enable any Roman productions to command our admiration as works of art, or entitle them to rank as models to be followed either literally or in spirit.
During the first two centuries and a half of her existence, Rome was virtually an Etruscan city, wholly under Etruscan influence; and during that period we read of temples and palaces being built and of works of immense magnitude being undertaken for the embellishment of the city; and we have even now more remains of kingly than we have of consular Rome.
After expelling her kings and shaking off Etruscan influence, Rome existed as a republic for five centuries, and during this long age of barbarism she did nothing to advance science or art. Literature was almost wholly unknown within her walls, and not one monument has come down to our time, even by tradition, worthy of a city of a tenth part of her power and magnitude. There is probably no instance in the history of the world of a capital city existing so long, populous and peaceful at home, prosperous and powerful abroad, and at the same time so utterly devoid of any monuments or any magnificence to dignify her existence.
When, however, Carthage was conquered and destroyed, when Greece was overrun and plundered, and Egypt, with her long-treasured art, had become a dependent province, Rome was no longer the city of the Aryan Romans, but the sole capital of the civilised world. Into her lap were poured all the artistic riches of the universe; to Rome flocked all who sought a higher distinction or a more extended field for their ambition than their own provincial capitals could then afford. She thus became the centre of all the arts and of all the science then known; and, so far at least as quantity is concerned, she amply redeemed her previous neglect of them. It seems an almost indisputable fact that, during the three centuries of the Empire, more and larger buildings were erected in Rome and her dependent cities than ever were erected in a like period in any part of the world.
For centuries before the establishment of the Roman Empire, progressive development and increasing population, joined to comparative peace and security, had accumulated around the shores of the Mediterranean a mass of people enjoying material prosperity greater than had ever been known before. All this culminated in the first centuries of the Christian era. The greatness of the ancient world was then full, and a more overwhelming and gorgeous spectacle than the Roman Empire then displayed never dazzled the eyes of mankind. From the banks of the Euphrates to those of the Tagus, every city vied with its neighbour in the erection of temples, baths, theatres, and edifices for public use or private luxury. In all cases these display far more evidence of wealth and power than of taste and refinement, and all exhibit traces of that haste to enjoy, which seems incompatible with the correct elaboration of anything that is to be truly great. Notwithstanding all this, there is a greatness in the mass, a grandeur in the conception, and a certain expression of power in all these Roman remains which never fail to strike the beholder with awe and force admiration from him despite his better judgment. These qualities, coupled with the associations that attach themselves to every brick and every stone, render the study of them irresistibly attractive. It was with Imperial Rome that the ancient world perished; it was in her dominions that the new and Christian world was born. All that was great in Heathendom was gathered within her walls, tied, it is true, into an inextricable knot, which was cut by the sword of those barbarians who moulded for themselves out of the fragments that polity and those arts which will next occupy our attention. To Rome all previous history tends; from Rome all modern history springs: to her, therefore, and to her arts, we inevitably turn, if not to admire, at least to learn, and if not to imitate, at any rate to wonder at and to contemplate a phase of art as unknown to previous as to subsequent history, and, if properly understood, more replete with instruction than any other form hitherto known. Though the lesson we learn from it is far oftener what to avoid than what to follow, still there is such wisdom to be gathered from it as should guide us in the onward path, which may lead us to a far higher grade than it was given to Rome herself ever to attain.
III. ROMAN ARCHITECTURE
CONTENTS.
Origin of style—The arch—Orders: Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, Composite—Temples—The Pantheon—Roman temples at Athens—at Baalbec.
CHRONOLOGICAL MEMORANDA.
DATES.
Foundation of Rome B.C. 753
Tarquinius Priscus—Cloaca Maxima, foundation of Temple of 616 Jupiter Capitolinus.
Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus dedicated 507
Scipio—tomb at Literium 184
Augustus—temples at Rome 31
Marcellus—theatre at Rome—died 23
Agrippa—portico of Pantheon—died 13
Nero—burning and rebuilding of Rome—died A.D. 68
Vespasian—Flavian amphitheatre built 70
Titus—arch in Forum 79
Destruction of Pompeii 79
Trajan—Ulpian Basilica and Pillar of Victory 98
Hadrian builds temple at Rome, Temple of Jupiter Olympius 117 at Athens, &c.
Septimius Severus—arch at Rome 194
Caracalla—baths 211
Diocletian—palace at Spalato 284
Maxentius—Basilica at Rome 306
Constantine—transfer of Empire to Constantinople 328
The earliest inhabitants of Rome were an Aryan or, as they used to be called, Indo-Germanic race, who established themselves in a country previously occupied by Pelasgians. Their principal neighbour on one side was Etruria, a Pelasgian nation. On the other hand was Magna Græcia, which had been colonised in very early ages by Hellenic settlers of kindred origin. It was therefore impossible that the architecture of the Romans should not be in fact a mixture of the styles of these two people. As a transition order, it was only a mechanical juxtaposition of both styles, the real fusion taking place many long centuries afterwards. Throughout the Roman period the two styles remain distinct, and there is no great difficulty in referring almost every feature in Roman architecture to its origin.
From the Greeks were borrowed the rectangular peristylar temple, with its columns and horizontal architraves, though they seldom if ever used it in its perfect purity, the cella of the Greek temples not being sufficiently large for their purposes. The principal Etruscan temples, as we have already shown, were square in plan, and the inner half occupied by one or more cells, to the sides and back of which the portico never extended. The Roman rectangular temple is a mixture of these two: it is generally, like the Greek examples, longer than its breadth, but the colonnade never seems to have entirely surrounded the building. Sometimes it extends to the two sides as well as the front, but more generally the cella occupies the whole of the inner part though frequently ornamented by a false peristyle of three-quarter columns attached to its walls.
Besides this, the Romans borrowed from the Etruscans or Greeks a circular form of temple. As applied by the Romans it was generally encircled by a peristyle of columns, though it is not clear that the Etruscans so used it; this may therefore be an improvement adopted from the Greeks on an Etruscan form. In early times these circular temples were dedicated to Vesta, Cybele, or some god or goddess either unknown or not generally worshipped by the Aryan races; but in later times this distinction was lost sight of.
A more important characteristic which the Romans borrowed from the Etruscans was the circular arch. It was known, it is true, to the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Greeks; yet none of these people, perhaps excepting the Assyrians, seem to have used it as a feature in their ornamental architecture; but the Etruscans appear to have had a peculiar predilection for it, and from them the Romans adopted it boldly, and introduced it into almost all their buildings. It was not at first used in temples of Grecian form, nor even in their peristylar circular ones. In the civil buildings of the Romans it was a universal feature, but was generally placed in juxtaposition with the Grecian orders. In the Colosseum, for instance, the whole construction is arched; but a useless network of ill-designed and ill-arranged Grecian columns, with their entablatures, is spread over the whole. This is a curious instance of the mixture of the two styles, and as such is very characteristic of Roman art; but in an artistic point of view the place of these columns would have been far better supplied by buttresses or panels, or some expedient more correctly constructive.
After having thoroughly familiarised themselves with the forms of the arch as an architectural feature, the Romans made a bold stride in advance by applying it as a vault both to the circular and rectangular forms of buildings. The most perfect examples of this are the rotunda of the Pantheon and the basilica of Maxentius, commonly called the Temple of Peace, strangely like each other in conception, though apparently so distant in date. In these buildings the Roman architects so completely emancipated themselves from the trammels of former styles as almost to entitle them to claim the invention of a new order of architecture. It would have required some more practice to invent details appropriate to the purpose; still these two buildings are to this hour unsurpassed for boldness of conception and just appreciation of the manner in which the new method ought to be applied. This is almost universally acknowledged so far as the interior of the Pantheon is concerned. In simple grandeur it is as yet unequalled; its faults being principally those of detail. It is not so easy, however, to form an opinion of the Temple of Peace in its present ruined state; but in so far as we can judge from what yet remains of it, in boldness and majesty of conception it must have been quite equal to the other example, though it must have required far more familiarity with the style adopted to manage its design as appropriately as the simpler dome of the Pantheon.
These two buildings may be considered as exemplifying the extent to which the Romans had progressed in the invention of a new style of architecture and the state in which they left it to their successors. It may however be worth while pointing out how, in transplanting Roman architecture to their new capital on the shores of the Bosphorus, the semi-Oriental nation seized on its own circular form, and, modifying and moulding it to its purpose, wrought out the Byzantine style; in which the dome is the great feature, almost to the total exclusion of the rectangular form with its intersecting vaults. On the other hand, the rectangular form was appropriated by the nations of the West with an equally distinct rejection of the circular and domical forms, except in those cases in which we find an Eastern people still incorporated with them. Thus in Italy both styles continued long in use, the one in baptisteries, the other in churches, but always kept distinct, as in Rome. In France they were so completely fused into each other that it requires considerable knowledge of architectural analysis to separate them again into their component parts. In England we rejected the circular form altogether, and so they did eventually in Germany, except when under French influence. Each race reclaimed its own among the spoils of Rome, and used it with the improvements it had acquired during its employment in the Imperial city.
ORDERS.
The first thing that strikes the student in attempting to classify the numerous examples of Roman architecture is the immense variety of purposes to which it is applied, as compared with previous styles. In Egypt architecture was applied only to temples, palaces and tombs. In Greece it was almost wholly confined to temples and theatres; and in Etruria to tombs. It is in Rome that we first feel that we have not to deal with either a Theocracy or a kingdom, but with a great people, who for the first time in the world’s history rendered architecture subservient to the myriad wants of the many-headed monster. It thus happens that in the Roman cities, in addition to temples we find basilicas, theatres and amphitheatres, baths, palaces, tombs, arches of triumph and pillars of victory, gates, bridges, and aqueducts, all equally objects of architectural skill. The best of these, in fact, are those which from previous neglect in other countries are here stamped with originality. These would have been noble works indeed had it not been that the Romans unsuccessfully applied to them those orders and details of architecture which were intended only to be applied to temples by other nations. In the time of Constantine these orders had nearly died out, and were only subordinately used for decorative purposes. In a little while they would have died out altogether, and the Roman would have become a new and complete style; but, as before remarked, this did not take place, and the most ancient orders therefore still remain an essential part of Roman art. We find the old orders predominating in the age of Augustus, and see them gradually die out as we approach that of Constantine.
DORIC.
Adopting the usual classification, the first of the Roman orders is the Doric, which, like everything else in this style, takes a place about half-way between the Tuscan wooden posts and the nobly simple order of the Greeks. It no doubt was a great improvement on the former, but for monumental purposes infinitely inferior to the latter. It was, however, more manageable; and for forums or courtyards, or as a three-quarter column between arcades, it was better adapted than the severer Greek style, which, when so employed, not only loses almost all its beauty, but becomes more unmeaning than the Roman. This fact was apparently recognised; for there is not, so far as is known, a single Doric temple throughout the Roman world. It would in consequence be most unfair to institute a comparison between a mere utilitarian prop used only in civil buildings and an order which the most refined artists in the world spent all their ingenuity in rendering the most perfect, because it was devoted to the highest religious purposes.
The addition of an independent base made the order much more generally useful, and its adoption brought it much more into harmony with the other two existing orders, which would appear to have been the principal object of its introduction. The keynote of Roman architecture was the Corinthian order; and as, from the necessities of their tall, many-storeyed buildings, the Romans were forced to use the three orders together, often one over the other, it was indispensable that the three should be reduced to something like harmony. This was accordingly done, but at the expense of the Doric order, which, except when thus used in combination, must be confessed to have very little claim to our admiration.
IONIC.
The Romans were much more unfortunate in their modifications of the Ionic order than in those which they introduced into the Doric. They never seem to have either liked or understood it, nor to have employed it except as a mezzo termine between the other two. In its own native East this order had originally only been used in porticoes between piers or antæ, where of course only one face was shown, and there were no angles to be turned. When the Greeks adopted it they used it in temples of Doric form, and in consequence were obliged to introduce a capital at each angle, with two voluted faces in juxtaposition at right angles to one another. In some instances—internally at least—as at Bassæ (Woodcut No. 142) they used a capital with four faces. The Romans, impatient of control, eagerly seized on this modification, but never quite got over the extreme difficulty of its employment. With them the angular volutes became mere horns, and even in the best examples the capital wants harmony and meaning.
When used as a three-quarter column these alterations were not required, and then the order resembled more its original form; but even in this state it was never equal to the Greek examples, and gradually deteriorated to the corrupt application of it in the Temple of Concord in the Forum, which is the most degenerate example of the order now to be found in Roman remains.
CORINTHIAN.
The fate of this order in the hands of the Romans was different from that of the other two. The Doric and Ionic orders had reached their acme of perfection in the hands of the Grecian artists, and seem to have become incapable of further improvement. The Corinthian, on the contrary, was a recent conception; and although nothing can surpass the elegance and grace with which the Greeks adorned it, the new capital never acquired with them that fulness and strength so requisite to render it an appropriate architectural ornament. These were added to it by the Romans, or rather perhaps by Grecian artists acting under their direction, who thus, as shown in Woodcut No. 181, produced an order which for richness combined with proportion and architectural fitness has hardly been surpassed. The base is elegant and appropriate; the shaft is of the most pleasing proportion, and the fluting gives it just the requisite degree of richness and no more; while the capital, though bordering on over-ornamentation, is so well arranged as to appear just suited to the work it has to do. The acanthus-leaves, it is true, approach the very verge of that degree of direct imitation of nature which, though allowable in architectural ornaments, is seldom advisable; they are, however, disposed so formally, and there still remains so much that is conventional in them, that, though perhaps not justly open to criticism on this account, they are nevertheless a very extreme example.
The entablature is not so admirable as the column. The architrave is too richly carved. It is evident, however, that this arose from the artist having copied in carving what the Greeks had only painted, and thereby produced a complexity far from pleasing.
The frieze, as we now find it, is perfectly plain; but this undoubtedly was not the case when originally erected. It either must have been painted (in which case the whole order of course was also painted), or ornamented with scrolls or figures in bronze, which may probably have been gilt.
The cornice is perhaps open to the same criticism as the architrave, of being over-rich, though this evidently arose from the same cause, viz., reproducing in carving what was originally only painted; which to our Northern eyes at least appears more appropriate for internal than for external decoration, though, under the purer skies where it was introduced and used, this remark may be hardly applicable.
The order of the portico of the Pantheon is, according to our notions, a nobler specimen of what an external pillar should be than that of the Temple of Jupiter Stator. The shafts are of one block, unfluted; the capital plainer; and the whole entablature, though as correctly proportional, is far less ornamented and more suited to the greater simplicity of the whole.
The order of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina is another example intermediate between these two. The columns are in this instance very similar to those of the Pantheon, and the architrave is plain. The frieze, however, is ornamented with more taste than any other in Rome, and is a very pleasing example of those conventional representations of plants and animals which are so well suited to architectural purposes—more like Nature than those of the Greeks, but still avoiding direct imitation sufficiently to escape the affectation of pretending to appear what it is not and cannot be.
The Maison Carrée at Nîmes presents an example of a frieze ornamented with exquisite taste, while at Baalbec, and in some other examples, we have them so over-ornamented that the effect is far more offensive, from utter want of repose, than the frieze in the Temple of Jupiter Stator ever could be from its baldness.
Besides these there are at least fifty varieties of Corinthian capitals to be found, either in Rome or in various parts of the Roman Empire, all executed within the three centuries during which Rome continued to be the imperial city. Some of them are remarkable for that elegant simplicity which so evidently betrays the hand of a Grecian artist, while others again show a lavish exuberance of ornament which is but too characteristic of Roman art in general. Many, however, contain the germs of something better than was accomplished in that age; and a collection of them would afford more useful suggestions for designing capitals than have yet been available to modern artists.
COMPOSITE ORDER.
Among their various attempts to improve the order which has just been described, the Romans hit upon one which is extremely characteristic of their whole style of art. This is known by the distinguishing name of the Composite order, though virtually more like the typical examples of the Corinthian order than many of those classed under the latter denomination.
The greatest defect of the Corinthian capital is the weakness of the small volutes supporting the angles of the abacus. A true artist would have remedied this by adding to their strength and carrying up the fulness of the capital to the top. The Romans removed the whole of the upper part and substituted an Ionic capital instead. Their only original idea, if it may be so called, in art was that of putting two dissimilar things together to make one which should combine the beauties of both, though as a rule the one generally serves to destroy the other. In the Composite capital they never could hide the junction; and consequently, though rich, and in some respects an improvement on the order out of which it grew, this capital never came into general use, and has seldom found favour except amongst the blindest admirers of all that the Romans did.
In the latter days of the Empire the Romans attempted another innovation which promised far better success, and with very little more elaboration would have been a great gain to the principles of architectural design. This was the introduction of the Persian or Assyrian base, modified to suit the details of the Corinthian or Composite orders. If they had always used this instead of the square pedestals on which they mounted their columns, and had attenuated the pillars slightly when used with arcades, they would have avoided many of the errors they fell into. This application, however, came too late to be generally used; and the forms already introduced continued to prevail. At the same time it is evident that a Persepolitan base for an Ionic and even for a Corinthian column would be amongst the greatest improvements that could now be introduced, especially for internal architecture.
COMPOSITE ARCADES.
The true Roman order, however, was not any of these columnar ordinances we have been enumerating, but an arrangement of two pillars placed at a distance from one another nearly equal to their own height, and having a very long entablature, which in consequence required to be supported in the centre by an arch springing from piers. This, as will be seen from the annexed woodcut, was in fact merely a screen of Grecian architecture placed in front of a construction of Etruscan design. Though not without a certain richness of effect, still, as used by the Romans, these two systems remain too distinctly dissimilar for the result to be pleasing, and their use necessitated certain supplemental arrangements by no means agreeable. In the first place, the columns had to be mounted on pedestals, or otherwise an entablature proportional to their size would have been too heavy and too important for a thing so useless and so avowedly a mere ornament. A projecting keystone was also introduced into the arch. This was unobjectionable in itself, but when projecting so far as to do the duty of an intermediate capital, it overpowered the arch without being equal to the work required of it.
The Romans used these arcades with all the 3 orders, frequently one over the other, and tried various expedients to harmonise the construction with the ornamentation, but without much effect. They seem always to have felt the discordance as a blemish, and at last got rid of it, but whether they did so in the best way is not quite clear. The most obvious mode of effecting this would no doubt have been by omitting the pillars altogether, bending the architrave, as is usually done, round the arch, and then inserting the frieze and cornices into the wall, using them as a string-course. A slight degree of practice would soon have enabled them—by panelling the pier, cutting off its angles, or some such expedient—to have obtained the degree of lightness or of ornament they required, and so really to have invented a new order.
This, however, was not the course that the Romans pursued. What they did was to remove the pier altogether, and to substitute for it the pillar taken down from its pedestal. This of course was not effected at once, but was the result of many trials and expedients. One of the earliest of these is observed in the Ionic Temple of Concord before alluded to, in which a concealed arch is thrown from the head of each pillar, but above the entablature, so as to take the whole weight of the superstructure from off the cornice between the pillars. When once this was done it was perceived that so deep an entablature was no longer required, and that it might be either wholly omitted, as was sometimes done in the centre intercolumniation, or very much reduced. There is an old temple at Talavera in Spain, which is a good example of the former expedient; and the Roman gateway at Damascus is a remarkable instance of the latter. There the architrave, frieze and cornice are carried across in the form of an arch from pier to pier, thus constituting a new feature in architectural design.
In Diocletian’s reign we find all these changes already introduced into domestic architecture, as shown in Woodcut No. 185, representing the great court of his palace at Spalato, where, at one end, the entablature is bent into the form of an arch over the central intercolumniation, while on each side of the court the arches spring directly from the capitals of the columns.
Had the Romans at this period been more desirous to improve their external architecture, there is little doubt that they would have adopted the expedient of omitting the entire entablature: but at this time almost all their efforts were devoted to internal improvement, and not unfrequently at the expense of the exterior. Indeed the whole history of Roman art, from the time of Augustus to that of Constantine, is a transition from the external architecture of the Greeks to the internal embellishment of the Christians. At first we see the cells of the temple gradually enlarged at the expense of the peristyle, and finally, in some instances, entirely overpowering them. Their basilicas and halls become more important than their porticoes, and the exterior is in almost every instance sacrificed to internal arrangements. For an interior, an arch resting on a circular column is obviously far more appropriate than one resting on a pier. Externally, on the contrary, the square pier is most suitable, because a pillar cannot support a wall of sufficient thickness. This defect was not remedied until the Gothic architects devised the plan of coupling two or more pillars together; but this point had not been reached at the time when with the fall of Rome all progress in art was effectually checked for a time.
TEMPLES.
There is perhaps nothing that strikes the inquirer into the architectural history of Rome more than the extreme insignificance of her temples, as compared with the other buildings of the imperial city and with some contemporary temples found in the provinces. The only temple which remains at all worthy of such a capital is the Pantheon. All others are now mere fragments, from which we can with difficulty restore even the plans of the buildings, far less judge of their effect. We have now no means of forming an opinion of the great national temple of the Capitoline Jove, no trace of it, nor any intelligible description, having been preserved to the present time. Its having been of Etruscan origin, and retaining its original form to the latest day, would lead us to suppose that the temple itself was small, and that its magnificence, if any, was confined to the enclosure and to the substructure, which may have been immense.
Of the Augustan age we have nothing but the remains of three temples, each consisting of only three columns; and the excavations that have been made around them have not sufficed to make even their plans tolerably clear.
The most remarkable was that of Jupiter Stator in the Forum, the beautiful details of which have been already alluded to and described. This temple was octastyle in front. It was raised on a stylobate 22 ft. in height, the extreme width of which was 98 ft., and this corresponds as closely as possible with 100 Roman ft. The angular columns were 85 ft. from centre to centre. The height of the pillars was 48 ft., and that of the entablature 12 ft. 6 in.[165] It is probable that the whole height to the apex of the pediment was nearly equal to the extreme width, and that it was designed to be so.
The pillars certainly extended on both flanks, and the temple is generally restored as peristylar, but apparently without any authority. From the analogy of the other temples it seems more probable that there were not more than eight or ten pillars on each side, and that the apse of the cella formed the termination opposite the portico.
The temple nearest to this in situation and style is that of Jupiter Tonans.[166] The order in this instance is of slightly inferior dimensions to that of the temple just described, and of very inferior execution. The temple, too, was very much smaller, having only six columns in front, and from its situation it could not well have had more than that number on the flanks, so that its extreme dimensions were probably about 70 ft. by 85.
The third is the Temple of Mars Ultor, of which a plan is annexed; for though now as completely decayed as the other two, in the time of Ant. Sabacco and Palladio there seem to have been sufficient remains to justify an attempt at restoration. As will be seen, it is nearly square in plan (112 ft. by 120). The cella is here a much more important part than is usual in Greek temples, and terminates in an apse, which afterwards became characteristic of all places of worship. Behind the cella, and on each side, was a lofty screen of walls and arches, part of which still remain, and form quite a new adjunct, unlike anything hitherto met with attached to any temple now known.
The next class of temples, called pseudo-peripteral (or those in which the cella occupies the whole of the after part), are generally more modern, certainly more completely Roman, than these last. One of the best specimens at Rome is the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, a small building measuring 72 ft. by 120. There is also a very elegant little Ionic temple of this class called that of Fortuna Virilis; while the Ionic Temple of Concord, built by Vespasian, and above alluded to, appears also to have been of this class. So was the temple in the forum at Pompeii; but the finest specimen now remaining to us is the so-called Maison Carrée at Nîmes, which is indeed one of the most elegant temples of the Roman world, owing probably a great deal of its beauty to the taste of the Grecian colonists long settled in its neighbourhood. It is hexastyle, with 11 columns in the flanks, 3 of which stand free, and belong to the portico; the remaining 8 are attached to the walls of the cella. The temple is small, only 45 ft. by 85; but such is the beauty of its proportions and the elegance of its details that it strikes every beholder with admiration.
The date of this temple has not been satisfactorily ascertained. From the nail-holes of the inscription on the frieze it has been attempted to make out the names of Caius and Lucius Cæsar, and there is nothing in the style of its architecture to contradict this hypothesis. Even if the buildings in the capital were such as to render this date ambiguous, it would scarcely be safe to apply any argument derived from them to a provincial example erected in the midst of a Grecian colony. But for their evidence we might almost be inclined to fancy its style represented the age of Trajan.
The temple of Diana in the same city is another edifice of singular beauty of detail, and interesting from the peculiarity of its plan. Exclusive of the portico it is nearly square, 70 ft. by 65, and consists of a cella which is covered with a stone ribbed vault, the thrust of which is counteracted by smaller vaults thrown across two side passages or aisles which are, however, not thrown open to the cella. The columns in the cella are detached from the wall, which is singularly interesting as the origin of much which we find afterwards in Gothic work. (A somewhat similar arrangement is found in the small temple at Baalbec (Woodcut No. 197) where, however, the peristyle occupies the position and serves the same purpose as the aisles at Nîmes, viz., to resist the thrust of the vault over the cella.)
Throughout this building the details of the architecture are unsurpassed for variety and elegance by anything found in the metropolis, and are applied here with a freedom and elegance bespeaking the presence of a Grecian mind even in this remote corner of the Empire. Another interesting feature is the porch. This was supported by four slender columns of singularly elegant design, but placed so widely apart that they could not have carried a stone entablature. It is difficult to guess what could have been the form of the wooden ones; but a mortice which still exists in the walls of the temple shows that it must have been eight or ten feet deep, and therefore probably of Etruscan form (Woodcut No. 167); though it may have assumed a circular arched form between the pillars.[167]
Another peculiarity is, that the light was introduced over the portico by a great semicircular window, as is done in the Buddhist caves in India; which, so far as I know, is the most perfect mode of lighting the interior of a temple which has yet been discovered.
Not far from the Colosseum, in the direction of the Forum, are still to be seen the remains of a great double temple built by the Emperor Hadrian, and dedicated to Venus and Rome, and consisting of the ruins of its two cells, each about 70 ft. square, covered with tunnel-vaults, and placed back to back, so that their apses touch one another. These stand on a platform 480 ft. long by 330 wide; and it is generally supposed that on the edge of this once stood 56 great columns, 65 ft. in height, thus moulding the whole into one great peripteral temple. Some fragments of such pillars are said to be found in the neighbourhood, but not one is now erect,—not even a base is in its place,—nor can any of its columns be traced to any other buildings. This part, therefore, of the arrangement is very problematical, and I should be rather inclined to restore it, as Palladio and the older architects have done, with a corridor of ten small columns in front of each of the cells. If we could assume the plan of this temple to have been really peripteral, as supposed, it must have been a building worthy of the imperial city and of the magnificence of the emperor to whom its erection is ascribed.
More perfect and more interesting than any of these is the Pantheon, which is undoubtedly one of the finest temples of the ancient world. Externally its effect is very much destroyed by its two parts, the circular and the rectangular, being so dissimilar in style and so incongruously joined together. The portico especially, in itself the finest which Rome exhibits, is very much injured by being prefixed to a mass which overpowers it and does not harmonise with any of its lines. The pitch, too, of its pediment is perhaps somewhat too high, but, notwithstanding all this, its sixteen columns, the shaft of each composed of a single block, and the simple grandeur of the details, render it perhaps the most satisfactory example of its class.
The pillars are arranged in the Etruscan fashion, as they were originally disposed in front of three-celled temples. As they now stand, however, they are added unsymmetrically to a rotunda, and in so clumsy a fashion that the two are certainly not part of the same design and do not belong to the same age. Either it was that the portico was added to the pre-existing rotunda, or that the rotunda is long subsequent to the portico. Unfortunately the two inscriptions on the portico hardly help to a solution of the difficulty. The principal one states that it was built by M. Agrippa, but the “it” may refer to the rotunda only, and may have been put there by those who in the time of Aurelius[168] repaired the temple which had “fallen into decay from age.” This hardly could, under any circumstances, be predicated of the rotunda, which shows no sign of decay during the last seventeen centuries of ill-treatment and neglect, and may last for as many more without injury to its stability, but might be said of a portico which, if of wood, as Etruscan porticoes usually were, may easily in 200 years have required repairs and rebuilding. From a more careful examination on the spot, I am convinced that the portico was added at some subsequent period to the rotunda. If by Agrippa, then the dome must belong to Republican times; if by Severus it may have been, as is generally supposed, the hall of the Baths of Agrippa.[169] Altogether I know of no building whose date and arrangements are so singular and so exceptional as this. Though it is, and always must have been, one of the most prominent buildings in Rome, and most important from its size and design, I know of no other building in Rome whose date or original destination it is so difficult to determine.
Internally perhaps the greatest defect of the building is a want of height in the perpendicular part, which the dome appears to overpower and crush. This mistake is aggravated by the lower part being cut up into two storeys, an attic being placed over the lower order. The former defect may have arisen from the architect wishing to keep the walls in some proportion to the portico. The latter is a peculiarity of the age in which I suppose this temple to have been remodelled, when two or more storeys seem to have become indispensable requisites of architectural design. We must ascribe also to the practice of the age the method of cutting through the entablature by the arches of the great niches, as shown in the sectional part of the last woodcut. It has already been pointed out that this was becoming a characteristic of the style at the time when the circular part of this temple was arranged as it at present appears.
Notwithstanding these defects and many others of detail that might be mentioned, there is a grandeur and a simplicity in the proportions of this great temple that render it still one of the very finest and most sublime interiors in the world, and the dimensions of its dome, 145 ft. 6 in. span by 147 in height, have not yet been surpassed by any subsequent erection. Though it is deprived of its bronze covering[170] and of the greater part of those ornaments on which it mainly depended for effect, and though these have been replaced by tawdry and incongruous modernisms, still nothing can destroy the effect of a design so vast and of a form so simply grand. It possesses moreover one other element of architectural sublimity in having a single window, and that placed high up in the building. I know of no other temples which possess this feature except the great rock-cut Buddhist basilicas of India. In them the light is introduced even more artistically than here; but, nevertheless, that one great eye opening upon heaven is by far the noblest conception for lighting a building to be found in Europe.
Besides this great rotunda there are two other circular temples in or near Rome. The one at Tivoli, shown in plan and elevation in the annexed woodcuts (Nos. 192 and 193), has long been known and admired; the other, near the mouth of the Cloaca Maxima, has a cell surrounded by twenty Corinthian columns of singularly slender proportions. Both these probably stand on Etruscan sites; they certainly are Etruscan in form, and are very likely sacred to Pelasgic deities, either Vesta or Cybele.
Both in dimensions and design they form a perfect contrast to the Pantheon, as might be expected from their both belonging to the Augustan age of art: consequently the cella is small, its interior is unornamented, and all the art and expense is lavished on the external features, especially on the peristyle; showing more strongly than even the rectangular temple the still remaining predominance of Grecian taste, which was gradually dying out during the whole period of the Empire.
It is to be regretted that the exact dates of both these temples are unknown, for, as that at Tivoli shows the stoutest example of a Corinthian column known and that in Rome the slenderest, it might lead to some important deductions if we could be certain which was the older of the two. It may be, however, that this difference of style has no connection with the relative age of the two buildings, but that it is merely an instance of the good taste of the age to which they belong. The Roman example, being placed in a low and flat situation, required all the height that could be given it; that at Tivoli, being placed on the edge of a rock, required as much solidity as the order would admit of to prevent its looking poor and insecure. A Gothic or a Greek architect would certainly have made this distinction.
One more step towards the modern style of round temples was taken before the fall of the Western Empire, in the temple which Diocletian built in his palace at Spalato. Internally the temple is circular, 28 ft. in diameter, and the height of the perpendicular part to the springing of the dome is about equal to its width. This is a much more pleasing proportion than we find in the Pantheon; perhaps the very best that has yet been employed. Externally the building is an octagon, surrounded by a low dwarf peristyle, very unlike that employed in the older examples. This angularity is certainly a great improvement, giving expression and character to the building, and affording flat faces for the entrances or porches; but the peristyle is too low, and mars the dignity of the whole.[171]
To us its principal interest consists in its being so extremely similar to the Christian baptisteries which were erected in the following centuries, and which were copies, but very slightly altered, from buildings of this class.
ATHENS.
Even assuming that Hadrian completed the great Temple of Venus at Rome in the manner generally supposed, it must have been very far surpassed by the great Temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, which, though probably not entirely erected, was certainly finished, by that Emperor. It was octastyle in front,[172] with a double range of 20 columns on each flank so that it could not well have had less than 106 columns, all about 58 ft. in height, and of the most elegant Corinthian order, presenting altogether a group of far greater magnificence than any other temple we are acquainted with of its class in the ancient world. Its lineal dimensions also, as may be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 195), were only rivalled by the two great Sicilian temples at Selinus and Agrigentum (Woodcuts Nos. 151, 152). It was 135 ft. wide by 354 in length, or nearly the same dimensions as the great Hypostyle Hall at Karnac, from which, however, it differs most materially, that being a beautiful example of an interior, this depending for all its magnificence on the external arrangement of its columns. Mr. Penrose’s discoveries in 1884 show that there was an opisthodomus at the rear and a vestibule or court in front of the cella which may have been hypæthral so as to admit light into the interior. This arrangement became so common in the early Christian world that there must have been some precedent for it; which, in addition to other reasons,[173] strongly inclines me to believe that the arrangement shown in the plan is correct.
BAALBEC.
The temples of Palmyra and Kangovar have been already mentioned in speaking of that of Jerusalem, to which class they seem to belong in their general arrangements, though their details are borrowed from Roman architecture. This, however, is not the case with the temples at Baalbec, which taken together and with their accompaniments, form the most magnificent temple group now left to us of their class and age. The great temple, if completed (which, however, probably it never was), would have been about 160 ft. by 290, and therefore, as a Corinthian temple, only inferior to that of Jupiter Olympius at Athens. Only nine of its colossal columns are now standing, but the bases of most of the others are in situ. Scarcely less magnificent than the temple itself was the court in which it stood, above 380 ft. square, and surrounded on three sides by recessed porticoes of most exuberant richness, though in perhaps rather questionable taste. In front of this was a hexagonal court of very great beauty, with a noble portico of 12 Corinthian columns, with two square blocks of masonry at each end. The whole extent of the portico is 260 ft., and of its kind it is perhaps unrivalled, certainly among the buildings of so late a date as the period to which it belongs.
The other, or smaller temple, stands close to the larger. Its dimensions, to the usual scale, are shown in the plan (Woodcut No. 197). It is larger than any of the Roman peripteral temples, being 117 ft. by 227 ft., or rather exceeding the dimensions of the Parthenon at Athens, and its portico is both wider and higher than that of the Pantheon at Rome. Had this portico been applied to that building, the slope of its pediment would have coincided exactly with that of the upper sloping cornice, and would have been the greatest possible improvement to that edifice. As it is, it certainly is the best proportioned and the most graceful Roman portico of the first class that remains to us in a state of sufficient completeness to allow us to judge of its effect.
The interior of the cella was richly ornamented with niches and pilasters, and covered with a ribbed and coffered vault, remarkable, like every part of this edifice, rather for the profusion than for the good taste of its ornaments.
One of the principal peculiarities of this group of buildings is the immense size of some of the stones used in the substructure of the great temple: three of these average about 63 ft. in length, 10 ft. 5 in. in breadth, and 13 ft. in height. A fourth, of similar dimensions, is lying in the quarry, which it is calculated must weigh alone more than 1100 tons in its rough state, or nearly as much as one of the tubes of the Britannia Bridge. It is not easy to see why such masses were employed. If they had been used as foundation stones their use would have been apparent, but they are placed over several courses of smaller stones, about half-way up the terrace wall, as mere binding stones, apparently for show. It is true that in many places in the Bible and in Josephus nothing is so much insisted upon as the immense size of the stones used in the building of the Temple and the walls of Jerusalem, the bulk of the materials used appearing to have been thought a matter of far more importance than the architecture. It probably was some such feeling as this which led to their employment here, though, had these huge stones been set upright, as the Egyptians would have placed them, we might more easily have understood why so great an expense should have been incurred on their account. As it is, there seems no reason for doubting their being of the same age as the temples they support, though their use is certainly exceptional in Roman temples of this class.
IV. BASILICAS, THEATRES, AND BATHS
CONTENTS.
Basilicas of Trajan and Maxentius—Provincial basilicas—Theatre at Orange—Colosseum—Provincial amphitheatres—Baths of Diocletian.
BASILICAS.
We have already seen that in size and magnificence the temples of Rome were among the least remarkable of her public buildings. It may be doubted whether in any respect, in the eyes of the Romans themselves, the temples were as important and venerable as the basilicas. The people cared for government and justice more than for religion, and consequently paid more attention to the affairs of the basilicas than to those of the temples. Our means for the restoration of this class of buildings are now but small, owing to their slight construction in the first instance, and to their materials having been so suitable for the building of Christian basilicas as to have been extensively used for that purpose. It happens, however, that the remains which we do possess comprise what we know to be the ruins of the two most splendid buildings of this class in Rome, and these are sufficiently complete to enable us to restore their plans with considerable confidence. It is also fortunate that one of these, the Ulpian or Trajan’s basilica, is the typical specimen of those with wooden roofs; the other, that of Maxentius, commonly called the Temple of Peace, is the noblest of the vaulted class.
The rectangular part of Trajan’s basilica was 180 ft. in width and a little more than twice that in length, but, neither end having yet been excavated, its exact longitudinal measurement has not been ascertained. It was divided into five aisles by four rows of columns, each about 35 ft. in height, the centre being 87 ft. wide, and the side-aisles 23 ft. 4 in. each. The centre was covered by a wooden roof of semicircular form,[174] covered apparently with bronze plates richly ornamented and gilt. Above the side aisles was a gallery, the roof of which was supported by an upper row of columns. From the same columns also sprang the arches of the great central aisle. The total internal height was thus probably about 120 ft., or higher than any English cathedral, though not so high as some German and French churches.
At one end was a great semicircular apse, the back part of which was raised, being approached by a semicircular range of steps. In the centre of this platform was the raised seat of the quæstor or other magistrate who presided. On each side, upon the steps, were places for the assessors or others engaged in the business being transacted. In front of the apse was placed an altar, where sacrifice was performed before commencing any important public business.[175]
Externally this basilica could not have been of much magnificence. It was entered on the side of the Forum (on the left hand of the plan and section) by one triple doorway in the centre and two single ones on either side, flanked by shallow porticoes of columns of the same height as those used internally. These supported statues, or rather, to judge from the coins representing the building, rilievos, which may have set off, but could hardly have given much dignity to, a building designed as this was. At the end opposite the apse a similar arrangement seems to have prevailed.
This mode of using columns only half the height of the edifice must have been very destructive of their effect and of the general grandeur of the structure, but it became about this time rather the rule than the exception, and was afterwards adopted for temples and every other class of buildings, so that it was decidedly an improvement when the arch took the place of the horizontal architrave and cornice; the latter always suggested a roof, and became singularly incongruous when applied as a mere ornamental adjunct at half the height of the façade. The interior of the basilica was, however, the important element to which the exterior was entirely sacrificed, a transition in architectural design which we have before alluded to, taking place much faster in basilicas, which were an entirely new form of building, than in temples, whose conformation had become sacred from the traditions of past ages.
The basilica of Maxentius, which was probably not entirely finished till the reign of Constantine, was rather broader than that of Trajan, being 195 ft. between the walls, but it was 100 ft. less in length. The central aisle was very nearly of the same width, being 83 ft. between the walls, and 120 ft. in height. There was, however, a vast difference in the construction of the two; so much so, that we are startled to see how rapid the progress had been during the interval, of less than two centuries, that had elapsed between the construction of the two basilicas.
In this building no pillars were used with the exception of eight great columns in front of the piers, employed merely as ornaments, or as vaulting shafts were in Gothic cathedrals, to support in appearance, though not in construction, the springing of the vaults.[176] The side-aisles were roofed by three great arches, each 74 ft. in span, and the centre by an immense intersecting vault in three compartments. The form of these will be understood from the annexed sections (Woodcuts Nos. 202 and 203), one taken longitudinally, the other across the building. As will be seen from them, all the thrusts are collected to a point and a buttress placed there to receive them: indeed almost all the peculiarities afterwards found in Gothic vaults are here employed on a far grander and more gigantic scale than the Gothic architects ever attempted; but at the same time it must be allowed that the latter, with smaller dimensions, often contrived by a more artistic treatment of their materials to obtain as grand an effect and far more actual beauty than ever were attained in the great transitional halls of the Romans. The largeness of the parts of the Roman buildings was indeed their principal defect, as in consequence of this they must all have appeared smaller than they really were, whereas in all Gothic cathedrals the repetition and smallness of the component parts has the effect of magnifying their real dimensions.
The roofs of these halls had one peculiarity which it would have been well if the mediæval architects had copied, inasmuch as they were all, or at least might have been, honestly used as roofs without any necessity for their being covered with others of wood, as all Gothic vaults unfortunately were. It is true this is perhaps one of the causes of their destruction, for, being only overlaid with cement, the rain wore away the surface, as must inevitably be the case with any composition of the sort exposed horizontally to the weather, and that being gone, the moisture soon penetrated through the crevices of the masonry, destroying the stability of the vault. Still, some of these in Rome have resisted for fifteen centuries, after the removal of any covering they ever might have had, all the accidents of climate and decay, while there is not a Gothic vault of half their dimensions that would stand for a century after the removal of its wooden protection. The construction of a vault capable of resisting the destructive effects of exposure to the atmosphere still remains a problem for modern architects to solve. Until this is accomplished we must regard roofs entirely of honest wood as preferable to the deceptive stone ceilings which were such favourites in the Middle Ages.
The provincial basilicas of the Roman Empire have nearly all perished, probably from their having been converted, first into churches, for which they were so admirably adapted, and then rebuilt to suit the exigencies and taste of subsequent ages. One example, however, still exists in Trèves of sufficient completeness to give a good idea of what such structures were. As will be seen by the annexed plan, it consists of a great hall, 85 ft. in width internally, and rather more than twice that dimension in length. The walls are about 100 ft. in height and pierced with two rows of windows; but whether they were originally separated by a gallery or not is now by no means clear. At one end was the apse, rather more than a semicircle of 60 ft. in diameter. The floor of the apse was raised considerably above that of the body of the building, and was no doubt adorned by a hemicycle of seats raised on steps, with a throne in the centre for the judge. The building has been used for so many purposes since the time of the Romans, and has been so much altered, that it is not easy now to speak with certainty of any of its minor arrangements. Its internal and external appearance, as it stood before the recent restoration, are well expressed in the annexed woodcuts; and though ruined, it was the most complete example of a Roman basilica to be found anywhere out of the capital. A building of this description has been found at Pompeii, which may be considered a fair example of a provincial basilica of the second class. Its plan is perfectly preserved, as shown in Woodcut No. 208. The most striking difference existing between it and those previously described is the square termination instead of the circular apse. It must, however, be observed that Pompeii was situated nearer to Magna Græcia than to Rome, and was indeed far more a Greek than a Roman city. Very slight traces of any Etruscan designs have been discovered there, and scarcely any buildings of the circular form so much in vogue in the capital. Though the ground-plan of this basilica remains perfect, the upper parts are entirely destroyed, and we do not even know for certain whether the central portion was roofed or not.[177]
There is a small square building at Otricoli, which is generally supposed to be a basilica, but its object as well as its age is so uncertain that nothing need be said of it here. In the works of Vitruvius, too, there is a description of one built by him at Fano, the restoration of which has afforded employment for the ingenuity of the admirers of that worst of architects. Even taking it as restored by those most desirous of making the best of it, it is difficult to understand how anything so bad could have been erected in such an age.
It is extremely difficult to trace the origin of these basilicas, owing principally to the loss of all the earlier examples. Their name is Greek, and they may probably be considered as derived from the Grecian Lesche, or perhaps as amplifications of the cellæ of Greek temples, appropriated to the purposes of justice rather than of religion; but till we know more of their earlier form and origin, it is useless speculating on this point. The greatest interest to us, arises rather from the use to which their plan was afterwards applied, than from the source from which they themselves sprang. All the larger Christian churches in the early times were copies, more or less exact, of the basilicas of which that of Trajan is an example. The abundance of pillars, suitable to such an erection, that were found everywhere in Rome, rendered their construction easy and cheap; and the wooden roof with which they were covered was also as simple and as inexpensive a covering as could well be designed. The very uses of the Christian basilicas at first were by no means dissimilar to those of their heathen originals, as they were in reality the assembly halls of the early Christian republic, before they became liturgical churches of the Catholic hierarchy.
The more expensive construction of the bold vaults of the Maxentian basilica went far beyond the means of the early Church, established in a declining and abandoned capital, and this form therefore remained dormant for seven or eight centuries before it was revived by the mediæval architects on an infinitely smaller scale, but adorned with a degree of appropriateness and taste to which the Romans were strangers. It was then used with a completeness and unity which entitle it to be considered as an entirely new style of architecture.
THEATRES.
The theatre was by no means so essential a part of the economy of a Roman city as it was of a Grecian one. With the latter it was quite as indispensable as the temple; and in the semi-Greek city of Herculaneum there was one, and in Pompeii two, on a scale quite equal to those of Greece when compared with the importance of the town itself. In the capital there appears only to have been one, that of Marcellus,[178] built during the reign of Augustus. It it is very questionable whether what we now see—especially the outer arcades—belong to that age, or whether the theatre may not have been rebuilt and these arcades added at some later period. It is so completely built over by modern houses, and so ruined, that it is extremely difficult to arrive at any satisfactory opinion regarding it. Its dimensions were worthy of the capital, the audience part being a semicircle of 410 ft. in diameter, and the scena being of great extent in proportion to the other part, which is a characteristic of all Roman theatres, as compared with Grecian edifices of this class.
One of the most striking Roman provincial theatres is that of Orange, in the south of France. Perhaps it owes its existence, or at all events its splendour, to the substratum of Grecian colonists that preceded the Romans in that country. Its auditorium is 340 ft. in diameter, but much ruined, in consequence of the Princes of Orange having used this part as a bastion in some fortification they were constructing.
The stage is very tolerably preserved. It shows well the increased extent and complication of arrangements required for the theatrical representations of the age in which it was constructed, being a considerable advance towards the more modern idea of a play, as distinguished from the stately semi-religious spectacle in which the Greeks delighted. The noblest part of the building is the great wall at the back, an immense mass of masonry 340 ft. in extent and 116 ft. in height, without a single opening above the basement, and no ornament except a range of blank arches, about midway between the basement and the top, and a few projecting corbels to receive the footings of the masts that supported the velarium. Nowhere does the architecture of the Romans shine so much as when their gigantic buildings are left to tell their own tale by the imposing grandeur of their masses. Whenever ornament is attempted, their bad taste comes out. The size of their edifices, and the solidity of their construction, were only surpassed by the Egyptians, and not always by them; and when, as here, the mass of material heaped up stands unadorned in all its native grandeur, criticism is disarmed, and the spectator stands awe-struck at its majesty, and turns away convinced that truly “there were giants in those days.” This is not, it is true, the most intellectual way of obtaining architectural effect, but it has the advantage of being the easiest, the most certain to secure the desired result, and at the same time the most permanent.
AMPHITHEATRES.
The deficiency of theatres erected by the Romans is far more than compensated by the number and splendour of their amphitheatres, which, with their baths, may be considered as the true types of Roman art, although it is possible that they derived this class of public buildings from the Etruscans. At Sutrium there is a very noble one cut out of the tufa rock,[179] which was no doubt used by that people for festal representations long before Rome attempted anything of the kind. It is uncertain whether gladiatorial fights or combats of wild beasts formed any part of the amusements of the arena in those days, though boxing, wrestling, and contests of that description certainly did; but whether the Etruscans actually proceeded to the shedding of blood and to slaughter is more than doubtful.
Even in the remotest parts of Britain, in Germany and Gaul, wherever we find a Roman settlement, we find the traces of their amphitheatres. Their soldiery, it seems, could not exist without the enjoyment of seeing men engaged in doubtful and mortal combats—either killing one another, or torn to pieces by wild beasts. It is not to be wondered at that a people who delighted so much in the bloody scenes of the arena should feel but very little pleasure in the mimic sorrows and tame humour of the stage. The brutal exhibition of the amphitheatre fitted them, it is true, to be a nation of conquerors, and gave them the empire of the world, but it brought with it feelings singularly inimical to all the softer arts, and was perhaps the great cause of their ultimate debasement.
As might be expected, the largest and most splendid of these buildings is that which adorns the capital; and of all the ruins which Rome contains, none have excited such universal admiration as the Flavian Amphitheatre. Poets, painters, rhapsodists, have exhausted all the resources of their arts in the attempt to convey to others the overpowering impression this building produces on their own minds. With the single exception, perhaps, of the Hall at Karnac, no ruin has met with such universal admiration as this. Its association with the ancient mistress of the world, its destruction, and the half-prophetic destiny ascribed to it, all contribute to this. In spite of our better judgment we are forced to confess that
“The gladiators’ bloody circus stands A noble wreck in ruinous perfection,”
and worthy of all or nearly all the admiration of which it has been the object. Its interior is almost wholly devoid of ornament, or anything that can be called architecture—a vast inverted pyramid. The exterior does not possess one detail which is not open to criticism, and indeed to positive blame. Notwithstanding all this, its magnitude, its form, and its associations, all combine to produce an effect against which the critic struggles in vain. Still, all must admit that the pillars and their entablature are useless and are added incongruously, and that the upper storey, not being arched like the lower, but solid, and with ugly pilasters, is a painful blemish. This last defect is so striking that, in spite of the somewhat dubious evidence of medals, I should feel inclined to suspect that it was a subsequent addition, and meant wholly for the purpose of supporting and working the great velarium or awning that covered the arena during the representation, which may not have been attempted when the amphitheatre was first erected.
Be this as it may, it certainly now very much mars the effect of the building. The lower storeys are of bad design, but this is worse. But notwithstanding these defects, there is no building of Rome where the principle of reduplication of parts, of which the Gothic architects afterwards made so much use, is carried to so great an extent as in this. The Colosseum is principally indebted to this feature for the effect which it produces. Had it, for instance, been designed with only one storey of the height of the four now existing, and every arch had consequently been as wide as the present four, the building would have scarcely appeared half the size it is now seen to be. For all this, however, when close under it, and comparing it with moving figures and other objects, we could scarcely eventually fail to realise its wonderful dimensions. In that case, a true sense of the vast size of the building would have had to be acquired, as is the case with the façade of St. Peter’s. Now it forces itself on the mind at the first glance. It is the repetition of arch beyond arch and storey over storey that leads the mind on, and gives to this amphitheatre its imposing grandeur, which all acknowledge, though few give themselves the trouble to inquire how this effect is produced.
Fortunately, too, though the face of the building is much cut up by the order, the entablatures are unbroken throughout, and cross the building in long vanishing lines of the most graceful curvatures. The oval, also, is certainly more favourable for effect than a circular form would be. A building of this shape may perhaps look smaller than it really is to a person standing exactly opposite either end; but in all other positions the flatter side gives a variety and an appearance of size, which the monotonous equality of a circle would never produce.
The length of the building, measured over all along its greatest diameter, is 620 ft., its breadth 513, or nearly in the ratio of 6 to 5, which may be taken as the general proportion of these buildings, the variations from it being slight, and apparently either mistakes in setting out the work in ancient times, or in measuring it in modern days, rather than an intentional deviation. The height of the three lower storeys, or of what I believe to have been the original building, is 120 ft.; the total height as it now stands is 157 ft. The arena itself measures 287 ft. in length by 180 in breadth. The whole area of the building has been calculated to contain 250,000 square feet, of which the arena contains 40,000; then deducting 10,000 for the external wall, 200,000 square feet will remain available for the audience. If we divide this by 5,[180] which is the number of square feet it has been found necessary to allow for each spectator in modern places of amusement, room will be afforded for 40,000 spectators; at 4 feet, which is a possible quantity, with continuous seats and the scant drapery of the Romans, the amphitheatre might contain 50,000 spectators at one time.
The area of the supports has also been calculated at about 40,000 square feet, or about one-sixth of the whole area; which for an unroofed edifice of this sort[181] is more than sufficient, though the excess accounts for the stability of the building.
Next in extent to this great metropolitan amphitheatre was that of Capua; its dimensions were 558 ft. by 460; its height externally 95 ft. It had three storeys, designed similarly to those of the Colosseum, but all of the Doric order, and used with more purity than in the Roman example.
Next in age, though not in size, is that at Nîmes, 430 ft. by 378, and 72 in height, in two storeys. Both these storeys are more profusely and more elegantly ornamented with pillars than those of either of the amphitheatres mentioned above. The entablature is however broken over each column, and pediments are introduced on each front. All these arrangements, though showing more care in design and sufficient elegance in detail, make this building very inferior in grandeur to the two earlier edifices, whose simplicity of outline makes up, to a great extent, for their faults of detail.
A more beautiful example than this is that at Verona. Its dimensions are 502 ft. by 401, and 98 ft. high, in three storeys beautifully proportioned. Here the order almost entirely disappears to make way for rustication, showing that it must be considerably more modern than either of the three examples above quoted, though hardly so late as the time of Maximianus, to whom it is frequently ascribed.[182] The arena of this amphitheatre is very nearly perfect, owing to the care taken of it during the Middle Ages, when it was often used for tournaments and other spectacles; but of its outer architectural enclosure only four bays remain, sufficient to enable an architect to restore the whole, but not to allow of its effect being compared with that of more entire examples.
The amphitheatre at Pola, which is of about the same age as that of Verona, and certainly belonging to the last days of the Western Empire, presents in its ruin a curious contrast to the other. That at Verona has a perfect arena and only a fragment of its exterior decoration, while the exterior of Pola is perfect, but not a trace remains of its arena, or of the seats that surrounded it. This is probably owing to their having been of wood, and consequently having either decayed or been burnt. Like that at Verona, it presents all the features of the last stage of transition; the order is still seen, or rather is everywhere suggested, but so concealed and kept subordinate that it does not at all interfere with the general effect. But for these faint traces we should possess in this amphitheatre one specimen entirely emancipated from incongruous Grecian forms, but, as before remarked, Rome perished when just on the threshold of the new style.
The dimensions of the amphitheatre at Pola are very nearly the same as of that at Nîmes, being 436 ft. by 346. It has, however, three storeys, and thus its height is considerably greater, being 97 ft. Owing to the inequality of the ground on which it is built, the lower storey shows the peculiarity of a sub-basement, which is very pleasingly managed, and appears to emancipate it more from conventional forms than is the case with its contemporary at Verona. The third storey, or attic, is also more pleasing than elsewhere, as it is avowedly designed for the support of the masts of the velarium. The pilasters and all Greek forms are omitted, and there is only a groove over every column of the middle storey to receive the masts. There is also a curious sort of open battlement on the top, evidently designed to facilitate the working of the awning, though in what manner is not quite clear. There is still one other peculiarity about the building, the curvature of its lines is broken by four projecting wings, intended apparently to contain staircases; in a building so light and open as this one is in its present state there can be no doubt but that the projections give expression and character to the outline, though such additions would go far to spoil any of the greater examples above quoted.
At Otricoli there is a small amphitheatre, 312 ft. by 230, in two storeys, from which the order has entirely disappeared; it is therefore possibly the most modern of its class, but the great flat pilasters that replace the pillars are ungraceful and somewhat clumsy. Perhaps its peculiarities ought rather to be looked on as provincialisms than as genuine specimens of an advanced style. Still there is a pleasing simplicity about it that on a larger scale would enable it to stand comparison with some of its greater rivals.
Besides these, which are the typical examples of the style, there are the “Castrense” at Rome, nearly circular, and possessing all the faults and none of the beauties of the Colosseum; one at Arles, very much ruined; and a great number of provincial ones, not only in Italy and Gaul, but in Germany and Britain. Almost all these were principally if not wholly excavated from the earth, the part above-ground being the mound formed by the excavation. If they ever possessed any external decoration to justify their being treated as architectural objects, it has disappeared, so that in the state at least in which we now find them they do not belong to the ornamental class of works of which we are at present treating.
BATHS.
Next in splendour to the amphitheatres of the Romans were their great thermal establishments: in size they were perhaps even more remarkable, and their erection must certainly have been more costly. The amphitheatre, however, has the great advantage in an architectural point of view of being one object, one hall in short, whereas the baths were composed of a great number of smaller parts, not perhaps very successfully grouped together. They were wholly built of brick covered with stucco (except perhaps the pillars), and have, therefore, now so completely lost their architectural features that it is with difficulty that even the most practised architect can restore them to anything like their original appearance.
In speaking of the great Thermæ of Imperial Rome, they must not be confounded with such establishments as that of Pompeii for instance. The latter was very similar to the baths now found in Cairo or Constantinople, and indeed in most Eastern cities. These are mere establishments for the convenience of bathers, consisting generally of one or two small circular or octagonal halls, covered by domes, and one or two others of an oblong shape, covered with vaults or wooden roofs, used as reception-rooms, or places of repose after the bath. These have never any external magnificence beyond an entrance-porch; and although those at Pompeii are decorated internally with taste, and are well worthy of study, their smallness of size and inferiority of design do not admit of their being placed in the same category as those of the capital, which are as characteristic of Rome as her amphitheatres, and are such as could only exist in a capital where the bulk of the people were able to live on the spoils of the conquered world rather than by the honest gains of their own industry.
Agrippa is said to have built baths immediately behind the Pantheon, and Palladio and others have attempted restorations of them, assuming that building to have been the entrance-hall. Nothing, however, can be more unlikely than that, if he had first built the rotunda as a hall of his baths, he should afterwards have added the portico, and converted it from its secular use into a temple dedicated to all the gods.
As before remarked, the two parts are certainly not of the same age. If Agrippa built the rotunda as a part of his baths, the portico was added a century and a half or two centuries afterwards, and it was then converted into a temple. If Agrippa built the portico, he added it to a building belonging to Republican times, which may always have been dedicated to sacred purposes. As the evidence at present stands, I am rather inclined to believe the first hypothesis most correctly represents the facts of the case.[183]
Nero’s baths, too, are a mere heap of shapeless ruins, and those of Vespasian, Domitian, and Trajan in like manner are too much ruined for their form, or even their dimensions, to be ascertained with anything like correctness. Those of Titus are more perfect, but the very discrepancies that exist between the different systems upon which their restoration has been attempted show that enough does not remain to enable the task to be accomplished in a satisfactory manner. They owe their interest more to the beautiful fresco paintings that adorn their vaults than to their architectural character. These paintings are invaluable, as being the most extensive and perfect relics of the painted decoration of the most flourishing period of the Empire, and give a higher idea of Roman art than other indications would lead us to expect.
The baths of Constantine are also nearly wholly destroyed, so that out of the great Thermæ two only, those of Diocletian and of Caracalla, now remain sufficiently perfect to enable a restoration to be made of them with anything like certainty.
The great hall belonging to the baths of Diocletian is now the Church of Sta. Maria degli Angeli, and has been considerably altered to suit the changed circumstances of its use; while the modern buildings attached to the church have so overlaid the older remains that it is not easy to follow out the complete plan. This is of less consequence, as both in dimensions and plan they are extremely similar to those of Caracalla, which seem to have been among the most magnificent, as they certainly are the best preserved, of these establishments.[184]
The general plan of the whole enclosure of the baths of Caracalla was a square of about 1150 ft. each way, with a bold but graceful curvilinear projection on two sides, containing porticoes, gymnasia, lecture-rooms, and other halls for exercise of mind or body. In the rear were the reservoirs to contain the requisite supply of water and below them the hypocaust or furnace, by which it was warmed with a degree of scientific skill we hardly give the Romans of that age credit for. Opposite to this and facing the street was one great portico extending the whole length of the building, into which opened a range of apartments, meant apparently to be used as private baths, which extend also some way up each side. In front of the hypocaust, facing the north-east, was a semicircus or theatridium, 530 ft. long, where youths performed their exercises or contended for prizes.
These parts were, however, merely the accessories of the establishment surrounding the garden, in which the principal building was placed. This was a rectangle 730 ft. by 380, with a projection covered by a dome on the south-western side, which was 167 ft. in diameter externally, and 115 ft. internally. There were two small courts (A A) included in the block, but nearly the whole of the rest appears to have been roofed over.
The modern building which approaches nearest in extent to this is probably our Parliament Houses. These are about 830 ft. in length, with an average breadth of about 300, and, with Westminster Hall, cover as nearly as may be the same area as the central block of these baths. But there the comparison stops; there is no building of modern times on anything like the same scale arranged wholly for architectural effect as this one is, irrespective of any utilitarian purpose. On the other hand, the whole of the walls being covered with stucco, and almost all the architecture being expressed in that material, must have detracted considerably from the monumental grandeur of the effect. Judging, however, from what remains of the stucco ornament of the roof of the Maxentian basilica (Woodcut No. 202), it is wonderful to observe what effects may be obtained with even this material in the hands of a people who understand its employment. While stone and marble have perished, the stucco of these vaults still remains, and is as impressive as any other relic of ancient Rome.
In the centre was a great hall (B), almost identical in dimensions with the central aisle of the basilica of Maxentius already described, being 82 ft. wide by 170 in length, and roofed in the same manner by an intersecting vault in three compartments, springing from eight great pillars. This opened into a smaller apartment at each end, of rectangular form, and then again into two other semicircular halls forming a splendid suite 460 ft. in length. This central room is generally considered as the tepidarium, or warmed apartment, having four warm baths opening out of it. On the north-east side was the frigidarium, or cold water bath, a hall[185] of nearly the same dimensions as the central Hall. Between this and the circular hall (D) was the sudatorium or sweating-bath, with a hypocaust underneath, and flue-tiles lining its walls. The laconicum or caldarium (D) is an immense circular hall, 116 ft. in diameter, also heated by a hypocaust underneath, and by flue tiles in the walls. This rotunda is said to be of later date than Caracalla. There are four other rooms on this side, which seem also to have been cold baths. None of these points have, however, yet been satisfactorily settled, nor the uses of the smaller subordinate rooms; every restorer giving them names according to his own ideas. For our purpose it suffices to know that no groups of state apartments in such dimensions, and wholly devoted to purposes of display and recreation, were ever before or since grouped together under one roof. The taste of many of the decorations would no doubt be faulty, and the architecture shows those incongruities inseparable from its state of transition; but such a collection of stately halls must have made up a whole of greater splendour than we can easily realise from their bare and weather-beaten ruins, or from anything else to which we can compare them. Even allowing for their being almost wholly built of brick, and for their being disfigured by the bad taste inseparable from everything Roman, there is nothing in the world which for size and grandeur can compare with these imperial places of recreation.[186]
V. TRIUMPHAL ARCHES, TOMBS, AND OTHER BUILDINGS
CONTENTS.
Arches at Rome; in France—Arch at Trèves—Columns of Victory—Tombs—Minerva Medica—Provincial tombs—Eastern tombs—Domestic architecture—Spalato—Pompeii—Bridges—Aqueducts.
Triumphal Arches were among the most peculiar of the various forms of art which the Romans borrowed from those around them, and used with that strange mixture of splendour and bad taste which characterises all their works.
These were in the first instance no doubt borrowed from the Etruscans, as was also the ceremony of the triumph with which they were ultimately associated. At first they seem rather to have been used as festal entrances to the great public roads, the construction of which was considered one of the most important benefits a ruler could confer upon his country. There was one erected at Rimini in honour of an important restoration of the Flaminian way by Augustus; another at Susa in Piedmont, to commemorate a similar act of the same Emperor. Trajan built one on the pier at Ancona, when he restored that harbour, and another at Beneventum, when he repaired the Via Appia, represented in the preceding woodcut (No. 215). It is one of the best preserved as well as most graceful of its class in Italy. The Arch of the Sergii at Pola in Istria seems also to have been erected for a like purpose. That of Hadrian at Athens, and another built by him at Antinoë in Egypt, were monuments merely commemorative of the benefits which he had conferred on those cities by the architectural works he had erected within their walls. By far the most important application of these gateways, in Rome at least, was to commemorate a triumph which may have passed along the road over which the arch was erected, and perhaps in some instances they may have been erected beforehand, for the triumphal procession to pass through, and of which they would remain memorials.
The Arch of Titus at Rome is well known for the beauty of its detail, as well as from the extraordinary interest which it derives from having been erected to commemorate the conquest of Jerusalem, and consequently representing in its bassi-rilievi the spoils of the Temple. From the annexed elevation, drawn to the usual scale, it will be seen that the building is not large, and it is not so well proportioned as that at Beneventum, represented in the preceding woodcut, the attic being overpoweringly high. The absence of sculpture on each side of the arch is also a defect, for the real merit of these buildings is their being used as frameworks for the exhibition of sculptural representations of the deeds they were erected to commemorate.
In the later days of the Empire two side arches were added for foot-passengers, in addition to the carriage-way in the centre. This added much to the splendour of the edifice, and gave a greater opportunity for sculptural decoration than the single arch afforded. The Arch of Septimius Severus, represented to the same scale in Woodcut No. 217, is perhaps the best specimen of the class. That of Constantine is very similar and in most respects equal to this—a merit which it owes to most of its sculptures being borrowed from earlier monuments.
More splendid than either of these is the Arch at Orange. It is not known by whom it was erected, or even in what age: it is, however, certainly very late in the Roman period, and shows a strong tendency to treat the order as entirely subordinate, and to exalt the plain masses into that importance which characterises the late transitional period. Unfortunately its sculptures are so much destroyed by time and violence that it is not easy to speak with certainty as to their age; but more might be done than has hitherto been effected to illustrate this important monument.
At Rheims there is an arch which was probably much more magnificent than this. When in a perfect state it was 110 ft. in width, and had three openings, the central one 17 ft. wide by 40 ft. high, and those on each side 10 ft. in width, each separated by two Corinthian columns. From the style of the sculpture it certainly was of the last age of the Roman Empire, but having been built into the walls of the city, it has been so much injured that it is difficult to say what its original form may have been.
Besides these there is in France a very elegant single-arched gateway at St. Rémi, similar to and probably of the same age as that at Beneventum; another at Cavallon, and one at Carpentras, each with one arch. There is also one with two similar arches at Langres; and one, the Porta Nigra, at Besançon, which shows so complete a transition from the Roman style that it is difficult to believe that it does not belong to the Renaissance.
There still remains in France another class of arches, certainly not triumphal, but so similar to those just mentioned that it is difficult to separate the one from the other. The most important of these are two at Autun, called respectively the Porte Arroux and the Porte St. André, a view of which is given in Woodcut No. 218. Each of these has two central large archways for carriages, and one on each side for foot-passengers. Their most remarkable peculiarity is the light arcade or gallery that runs across the top of them, replacing the attic of the Roman arch, and giving a degree of lightness combined with height that those never possessed. These gates were certainly not meant for defence, and the apartment over them could scarcely be applied to utilitarian purposes; so that we may, I believe, consider it as a mere ornamental appendage, or as a balcony for display on festal occasions. It appears, however, to offer a better hint for modern arch-builders than any other example of its class.
Even more interesting than these gates at Autun is that called the Porta Nigra at Trèves; for though far ruder in style and coarser in detail, as might be expected from the remoteness of the province where it is found, it is far more complete. Indeed it is the only example of its class which we possess in anything like its original state. Its front consists of a double archway surmounted by an arcaded gallery, like the French examples. Within this is a rectangular court which seems never to have been roofed, and beyond this a second double archway similar to the first. At the ends of the court, projecting each way beyond the face of the gateway and the gallery surmounting it, are two wings four storeys in height, containing a series of apartments in the form of small basilicas, all similar to one another, and measuring about 55 ft. by 22. It is not easy to understand how these were approached, as there is no stair and no place for one. Of course there must have been some mode of access, and perhaps it may have been on the site of the apse, shown in the plan (Woodcut No. 219), which was added when the building was converted into a church in the Middle Ages. These apartments were probably originally used as courts or chambers of justice, thus realising, more nearly than any other European example I am acquainted with, the idea of a gate of justice.
Notwithstanding its defects of detail, there is a variety in the outline of this building and a boldness of profile that render it an extremely pleasing example of the style adopted; and though exhibiting many of the faults incidental to the design of the Colosseum, it possesses all that repetition of parts and Gothic feeling of design which give such value to its dimensions, though these are far from being contemptible, the building being 115 ft. wide by 95 in height to the top of the wings.
There probably were many similar gates of justice in the province, but all have perished, unless we except those at Autun just described. I am convinced that at that place there were originally such wings as these at Trèves, and that the small church, the apse of which is seen on the right hand (woodcut No. 220), stands upon the foundations of one of these. A slight excavation on the opposite side would settle this point at once. If it could be proved that these gateways at Autun had such lateral adjuncts, it would at once explain the use of the gallery over the arch, which otherwise looks so unmeaning, but would be intelligible as a passage connecting the two wings together.
Another form also is that of an arch at the entrance of a bridge, generally bearing an inscription commemorative of its building. Its purpose is thus closely connected with that of the arches before mentioned, which commemorate the execution of roads. Most of the great bridges of Italy and Spain were so adorned; but unfortunately they have either been used as fortifications in the Middle Ages, or removed in modern times to make room for the increased circulation of traffic. That built by Trajan on his noble bridge at Alcantara in Spain is well known; and there exists a double-arched bridge at Saintes, in the south of France. The most elegant and most perfect specimen, however, of this class is that of St. Chamas in Provence, represented in woodcut No. 221. It consists of two arches, one at each end of the bridge, of singular elegance of form and detail. Although it bears a still legible inscription, it is uncertain to what age it belongs, probably that of the Antonines: and I would account for the purity of its details by referring to the Greek element that pervades the south of France. Whether this is so or not, it is impossible not to admire not only the design of the whole bridge with its two arches, but the elegance with which the details have been executed.
Used in this mode as commencements of roads, or entrances to bridges, or as festal entrances to unfortified towns, there are perhaps no monuments of the second class more appropriate or more capable of architectural expression than these arches, though all of them have been more or less spoiled by an incongruous order being applied to them. Used, however, as they were in Rome, as monuments of victory, without offering even an excuse for a passage through them, the taste displayed in them is more than questionable: the manner, too, in which they were cut up by broken cornices and useless columns placed on tall pedestals, with other trivial details highly objectionable, deprive them of that largeness of design which is the only true merit and peculiar characteristic of Roman art, while that exquisite elegance with which the Greeks knew so well how to dignify even the most trivial objects was in them almost entirely lost.
COLUMNS OF VICTORY.
Columns of Victory are a class of monuments which seem to have been used in the East in very early times, though their history it must be confessed is somewhat fragmentary and uncertain, and they seem to have been adopted by the Romans in those provinces where they had been employed by the earlier inhabitants. Whatever the original may have been, the Romans were singularly unsuccessful in their application of the form. They never, in fact, rose above the idea of taking a column of construction, magnifying it, and placing it on a pedestal, without any attempt to modify its details or hide the original utilitarian purpose for which the column was designed. When they attempted more than this, they failed entirely in elaborating any new form at all worthy of admiration. The Columna Rostrata, or that erected to celebrate naval victories, was, so far as we can judge from representations (for no perfect specimen exists), one of the ugliest and clumsiest forms of column it is possible to conceive.
Of those of Victory, one of the most celebrated is that erected by Diocletian at Alexandria. A somewhat similar one exists at Arsinoë, erected by Alexander Severus; and a third at Mylassa in Caria. All these are mere Corinthian columns of the usual form, and with the details of those used to support entablatures in porticoes. However beautiful these may be in their proper place, they are singularly inappropriate and ungraceful when used as minarets or single columns.
There are two in Rome not quite so bad as these, both being of the Doric order. Had the square abacus in these been cut to a round form, and ornamented with an appropriate railing, we might almost have forgotten their original, and have fancied that they really were round towers with balconies at the top. The great object of their erection was to serve as vehicles for sculpture, though, as we now see them, or as they are caricatured at Paris and elsewhere, they are little more than instances of immense labour bestowed to very little purpose. As originally used, these columns were placed in small courts surrounded by open porticoes, whence the spectator could at two or perhaps at three different levels examine the sculpture at his leisure and at a convenient distance, while the absurdity of the column supporting nothing was not apparent, from its not being seen from the outside. This arrangement is explained in woodcut No. 200, which is a section through the basilica of Trajan, showing the position of his column, not only with reference to that building, but to the surrounding colonnade. The same was almost certainly the case with the column of Marcus Aurelius, which, with slight modifications, seems to have been copied from that of Trajan; but even in the most favourable situations no monuments can be less worthy of admiration or of being copied than these.
A far better specimen of this class is that at Cussi, near Beaune, in France. It probably belongs to the time of Aurelian, but it is not known either by whom it was erected or what victory it was designed to celebrate; still that it is a column of victory seems undoubted; and its resemblance to columns raised with the same object in India is quite striking.
The arrangement of the base serving as a pedestal for eight statues is not only elegant but appropriate. The ornament which covers the shaft takes off from the idea of its being a mere pillar, and at the same time is so subdued as not to break the outline or interfere with constructive propriety.
The capital, of the Corinthian order, is found in the neighbourhood used as the mouth of a well. In its original position it no doubt had a hole through it, which being enlarged suggested its application to its present ignoble purpose, the hole being no doubt intended either to receive or support the statue or emblem that originally crowned the monument, but of that no trace now remains.
There cannot be a more natural mode of monumental expression than that of a simple upright stone set up by the victors to commemorate their prowess and success. Accordingly steles or pillars erected for this purpose are found everywhere, and take shapes as various as the countries where they stand or the people who erected them. In Northern Europe they are known as Cath or battle-stones, and as rude unhewn monoliths are found everywhere. In India they are as elegant and as elaborately adorned as the Kutub Minar at Delhi, but nowhere was their true architectural expression so mistaken as in Rome. There, by perverting a feature designed for one purpose to a totally different use, an example of bad taste was given till then unknown, though in our days it has become not uncommon.
TOMBS.
In that strange collection of the styles of all nations which mingled together makes up the sum of Roman art, nothing strikes the architectural student with more astonishment than the number and importance of their tombs. If the Romans are of Aryan origin, as is generally assumed, they are the only people of that race among whom tomb-building was not utterly neglected. The importance of the tombs among the Roman remains proves one of two things. Either a considerable proportion of Etruscan blood was mixed up with that of the dominant race in Rome, or that the fierce and inartistic Romans, having no art of their own, were led blindly to copy that of the people among whom they were located.
Of the tombs of Consular Rome nothing remains except perhaps the sarcophagus of Scipio; and it is only on the eve of the Empire that we meet with the well-known one of Cæcilia Metella, the wife of Crassus, which is not only the best specimen of a Roman tomb now remaining to us, but the oldest architectural building of the imperial city of which we have an authentic date. It consists of a bold square basement about 100 ft. square, which was originally ornamented in some manner not now intelligible. From this rose a circular tower about 94 ft. in diameter, of very bold masonry, surmounted by a frieze of ox-skulls with wreaths joining them, and a well-profiled cornice: two or three courses of masonry above this seem to have belonged to the original work; and above this, almost certainly, in the original design rose a conical roof, which has perished. The tower having been used as a fortress in the Middle Ages, battlements have been added to supply the place of the roof, and it has been otherwise disfigured, so as to detract much from its beauty as now seen. Still we have no tomb of the same importance so perfect, nor one which enables us to connect the Roman tombs so nearly with the Etruscan. The only addition in this instance is that of the square basement or podium, though even this was not unknown at a much earlier period, as for instance in the tomb of Aruns (Woodcut No. 176). The exaggerated height of the circular base is also remarkable. Here it rises to be a tower instead of a mere circular base of stones for the earthen cone of the original sepulchre. The stone roof which probably surmounted the tower was a mere reproduction of the original earthen cone.
Next in age and importance was the tomb of Augustus in the Campus Martius. It is now so completely ruined that it is extremely difficult to make out its plan, and those who drew and restored it in former days were so careless in their measurements that even its dimensions cannot be ascertained; it appears, however, to have consisted of a circular basement about 300 ft. in diameter and about 60 ft. in height, adorned with 12 large niches. Above this rose a cone of earth as in the Etruscan tombs, not smooth like those, but divided into terraces, which were planted with trees. We also learn from Suetonius that Augustus laid out the grounds around his tomb and planted them with gardens for public use during his lifetime. More like the practice of a true Mogul in the East than the ruler of an Indo-Germanic people in Europe.
This tomb, however, was far surpassed, not only in solidity but in splendour, by that which Hadrian erected for himself on the banks of the Tiber, now known as the Mole of Hadrian, or more frequently the Castle of St. Angelo. The basement of this great tomb was a square, about 340 ft. each way and about 75 ft. high. Above this rose a circular tower 235 ft. in diameter and 140 in height. The whole was crowned either by a dome or by a conical roof in steps, which, with its central ornament, must have risen to a height of not less than 300 ft. The circular or tower-like part of this splendid building was ornamented with columns, but in what manner restorers have not been quite able to agree; some making two storeys, both with pillars, some, one of pillars and the upper one of pilasters. It would require more correct measurements than we have to enable us to settle this point, but it seems probable that there was only one range of columns on a circular basement of some height surmounted by an attic of at least equal dimensions. The order might have been 70 ft., the base and attic 35 ft. each.
Internally the mass was nearly solid, there being only one sepulchral apartment, as nearly as may be in the centre of the mass, approached by an inclined plane, winding round the whole building, from the entrance in the centre of the river face.
Besides these there was another class of tombs in Rome, called columbaria, generally oblong or square rooms below the level of the ground, the walls of which were pierced with a great number of little pigeon-holes or cells just of sufficient size to receive an urn containing the ashes of the body, which had been burnt according to the usual Roman mode of disposing of the dead. Externally of course they had no architecture, though some of the more important family sepulchres of this class were adorned internally with pilasters and painted ornaments of considerable beauty.
In the earlier ages of the Roman Empire these two forms of tombs characterised with sufficient clearness the two races, each with their distinctive customs, which made up the population of Rome. Long before its expiration the two were fused together so thoroughly that we lose all trace of the distinction, and a new form of tomb arose compounded of the two older, which became the typical form with the early Christians, and from them passed to the Saracens and other Eastern nations.
The new form of tomb retained externally the circular form of the Pelasgic sepulchre, though constructive necessities afterwards caused it to become polygonal. Instead however of being solid, or nearly so, the walls were only so thick as was necessary to support the dome, which became the universal form of roof of these buildings.
The sepulchres of Rome have as yet been far too carelessly examined to enable us to trace all the steps by which the transformation took place, but as a general rule it may be stated that the gradual enlargement of the central circular apartment is almost a certain test of the age of a tomb; till at last, before the age of Constantine, they became in fact representations of the Pantheon on a small scale, almost always with a crypt or circular vault below the principal apartment.
One of the most curious transitional specimens is that found near San Vito, represented in Woodcut No. 226. Here, as in all the earlier specimens, the principal apartment is the lower, in the square basement. The upper, which has lost its decoration, has the appearance of having been hollowed out of the frustum of a gigantic Doric column, or rather out of a solid tower like the central one of the Tomb of Aruns (Woodcut No. 176). Shortly after the age of this sepulchre the lower apartment became a mere crypt, and in such examples as those of the sepulchres of the Cornelia and Tossia families we have merely miniature Pantheons somewhat taller in proportion, and with a crypt. This is still more remarkable in a building called the Torre dei Schiavi, which has had a portico attached to one side, and in other respects looks very like a direct imitation of that celebrated temple. It seems certainly, however, to have been built for a tomb.
Another tomb, very similar to that of the Tossia family, is called that of Sta. Helena, the mother of Constantine. If it is not hers, it belongs at any rate to the last days of the Empire, and may be taken as a fair specimen of the tombs of that age and class. It is a vast transition from the tomb of Cæcilia Metella, though, like all the changes introduced by the Romans, it shows the never-failing tendency to transfer all architectural embellishments from the exterior to the interior of every style of building.
It consists of a basement about 100 ft. square, containing the crypt. On this stands a circular tower in two storeys. In the lower storey is a circular apartment about 66 ft. in diameter, surrounded by eight niches; in the upper the niches are external, and each is pierced with a window. The dimensions of the tomb are nearly the same as those of Cæcilia Metella, and it thus affords an excellent opportunity of comparing the two extremes of the series, and of contrasting the early Roman with the early Christian tomb.
The typical example of a sepulchre of this age is the tomb or baptistery of Sta. Costanza, the daughter of Constantine (Woodcut No. 423.) In this building the pillars that adorned the exterior of such a mausoleum, for instance, as that of Hadrian, are introduced internally. Externally the building never can have had much ornament. But the breaks between the lower aisle and the central compartment, pierced with the clerestory, must have had a very pleasing effect. In this example there is still shown a certain degree of timidity, which does not afterwards reappear. The columns are coupled and are far more numerous than they need have been, and are united by a fragment of an entablature, as if the architect had been afraid to place his vault directly on the capitals. Notwithstanding these defects, it is a pleasing and singularly instructive example of a completed transformation, and is just what we miss in those secular buildings for which the Christians had no use.
Another building, which is now known as the Lateran Baptistery (Woodcut No. 422), was also undoubtedly a place of sepulture. Its erection is generally ascribed to Constantine, and it is said was intended by him to be the place of his own sepulture. Whether this is correct or not, it certainly belongs to his age, and exhibits all the characteristics of the architecture of his time. Here the central apartment, never having been designed to support a dome, is of a far lighter construction, an upper order of pillars being placed on the lower, with merely a slight architrave and frieze running between the two orders, the external walls being slight in construction and octagonal in plan.[188] We must not in this place pursue any further the subject of the transition of style, as we have already trespassed within the pale of Christian architecture and passed beyond the limits of Heathen art. So gradual, however, was the change, and so long in preparation, that it is impossible to draw the line exactly where the separation actually took place between the two.
TEMPLE OF MINERVA MEDICA.
One important building remains to be mentioned before leaving this part of the subject. It commonly goes by the name of the Temple of Minerva Medica, though this is certainly a misnomer.[189] Recently it has become the fashion to assume that it was the hall of some bath; no building of that class, however, was known to exist in the neighbourhood, and it is extremely improbable that any should be found outside the Servian walls in this direction; moreover, it is wanting in all the necessary accompaniments of such an establishment.
It is here placed with the tombs, because its site is one that would justify its being so classed, and its form being just such as would be applicable to that purpose and to no other. It is not by any means certain, however, that it is a tomb, though there does not seem to be any more probable supposition. It certainly belongs to the last days of the Roman Empire, if indeed it be not a Christian building, which I am very much inclined to believe it is, for, on comparing it with the Baptistery of Constantine and the tomb of Sta. Costanza, it shows a considerable advance in construction on both these buildings, and a greater similarity to San Vitale at Ravenna, and other buildings of Justinian’s time, than to anything else now found in Rome.
As will be seen from the plan and section (Woodcuts Nos. 228 and 229), it has a dome, 80 ft. in diameter, resting on a decagon of singularly light and elegant construction. Nine of the compartments contain niches which give great room on the floor, as well as great variety and lightness to the general design. Above this is a clerestory of ten well-proportioned windows, which give light to the building, perhaps not in so effective a manner as the one eye of the Pantheon, though by a far more convenient arrangement, to protect from the elements a people who did not possess glass. So far as I know, all the domed buildings erected by the Romans up to the time of Constantine, and indeed long afterwards, were circular in the interior, though, like the temple built by Diocletian at Spalato, they were sometimes octagonal externally. This, however, is a Polygon both internally and on the outside, and the mode in which the dome is placed on the polygon shows the first rudiments of the pendentive system, which was afterwards carried to such perfection by the Byzantine architects, but is nowhere else to be found in Rome. It probably was for the purpose of somewhat diminishing the difficulties of this construction that the architect adopted a figure with ten instead of eight sides.
This, too, is, I believe, the first building in which buttresses are applied so as to give strength to the walls exactly at the point where it is most wanted. By this arrangement the architect was enabled to dispense with nearly one-half the quantity of material that was thought necessary when the dome of the Pantheon was constructed, and which he must have employed had he copied that building. Besides this, the dome was ribbed with tiles, as shown in Woodcut No. 230, and the space between the ribs filled in with inferior, perhaps lighter masonry, bonded together at certain heights by horizontal courses of tiles where necessary.
Besides the lightness and variety which the base of this building derives from the niches, it is 10 ft. higher than its diameter, which gives to it that proportion of height to width, the want of which is the principal defect of the Pantheon. It is not known what the side erections are which are usually shown in the ground-plans, nor even whether they are coeval with the main central edifice. I suspect they have never been very correctly laid down.
Taking it altogether, the building is certainly, both as concerns construction and proportion, by far the most scientific of all those in ancient Rome, and in these respects as far superior to the Pantheon as it is inferior to that temple in size. Indeed there are few inventions of the Middle Ages that are not attempted here or in the Temple of Peace—but more in this than in the latter; so much so, indeed, that I cannot help believing that it is much more modern than is generally supposed.
As might be expected from our knowledge of the race that inhabited the European provinces of the Roman Empire, there are very few specimens of tombs of any importance to be found in them. One very beautiful example exists at St. Rémi, represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 231). It can hardly, however, be correctly called a tomb, but is rather a cenotaph or a monument, erected as the inscription on it tells us, by Sextus and Marcus, of the family of the Julii, to their parents, whose statues appear under the dome of the upper storey. There is nothing funereal either in the inscription or the form, nor anything to lead us to suppose that the bodies of the parents repose beneath its foundation.
The lower portion of this monument is the square basement which the Romans always added to the Etruscan form of tomb. Upon this stands a storey pierced with an archway in each face, with a three-quarter pillar of the Corinthian order at every angle. The highest part is a circular colonnade, a miniature copy of that which we know to have once encircled Hadrian’s Mole.
The open arrangement of the arches and colonnade, while it takes off considerably from the tomb-like simplicity appropriate to such buildings, adds very much to the lightness and elegance of the whole. Altogether the building has much more of the aspiring character of Christian art than of the more solid and horizontal forms which were characteristic of the style then dying out.
Another monument of very singular and exceptional form is found at Igel, near Trèves, in Germany. It is so unlike anything found in Italy, or indeed anything of the Roman age, that were its date not perfectly known from the inscription upon it, one might rather be inclined to ascribe it to the age of Francis I. than to the latter days of the Roman Empire.
The form is graceful, though the pilasters and architectural ornaments seem somewhat misplaced. It is covered with sculptures from top to bottom. These, however, as is generally the case with Roman funereal monuments, have no reference to death, nor to the life or actions of the person to whom the monument is sacred, but are more like the scenes painted on a wall or ornamental stele anywhere. The principal object on the face represented in the woodcut is the sun, but the subjects are varied on each face, and, though much time-worn, they still give a very perfect idea of the rich ornamentation of the monuments of the last age of the Empire.
The Tour Magne at Nîmes is too important a monument to be passed over, though in its present ruined state it is almost more difficult to explain than any other Roman remains that have reached our times. It consists of an octagonal tower 50 ft. in diameter, and now about 120 ft. high. The basement is extended beyond this tower on every side by a series of arches supporting a terrace to which access was obtained by an external flight of steps, or rather an inclined plane. From the marks in the walls it seems evident that this terrace originally supported a peristyle, or, possibly, a range of chambers. Within the basement is a great chamber covered by a dome of rubble masonry, to which no access could be obtained from without, but the interior may have been reached through the eye of the dome. From the terrace an important flight of steps led upwards to—what? It is almost impossible to refrain from answering, to a cella, like those which crowned the tomb temples of Assyria. That the main object of the building was sepulchral seems hardly doubtful, but we have no other instance in Europe of a tomb with such a staircase leading to a chamber above it.
That Marseilles was a Phœnician and then a Phocian colony long before Roman times seems generally to be admitted, and that in the Temple of Diana (Woodcuts Nos. 188 and 189) and in this building there is an Etruscan or Eastern element which can hardly be mistaken, and may lead to very important ethnographical indications when more fully investigated and better understood.
EASTERN TOMBS.
This scarcity of tombs in the western part of the Roman Empire is to a great extent made up for in the East; but the history of those erected under the Roman rule in that part of the world is as yet so little known that it is not easy either to classify or to describe them; and as nearly all those which have been preserved are cut in the rock, it is sometimes difficult—as with other rock-cut objects all over the world—to understand the form of building from which they were copied.
The three principal groups of tombs of the Roman epoch are those of Petra, Cyrene, and Jerusalem. Though many other important tombs exist in those countries, they are so little known that they must be passed over for the present.
From the time when Abraham was laid in the cave of Machpelah until after the Christian era, we know that burying in the rock was not the exception but the general practice among the nations of this part of the East. So far as can be known, the example was set by Egypt, which was the parent of much of their civilisation. In Egypt the façades of their rock-cut tombs were—with the solitary exception of those of Beni Hasan[190]—ornamented so simply and unobtrusively as rather to belie than to announce their internal magnificence. All the oldest Asiatic tombs seem to have been mere holes in the rock, wholly without architectural decorations.
We have seen, however, how the Persian kings copied their palace façades to adorn their last resting-places, and how about the same time in Lycia the tomb-builders copied, first their own wooden structures, and afterwards the architectural façades which they had learned from the Greeks how to construct. But it was not till the Roman period that this species of magnificence extended to the places enumerated above; when to such an extent did it prevail at Petra as to give to that now deserted valley the appearance of a petrified city of the dead.
The typical and most beautiful tomb of this place is that called the Khasné or Treasury of Pharaoh—represented in elevation and section in the annexed woodcuts, Nos. 233 and 234. As will be seen, it consists of a square basement, adorned with a portico of four very beautiful Corinthian pillars, surmounted by a pediment of low Grecian pitch. Above this are three very singular turrets, the use and application of which it is extremely difficult to understand. The central one is circular, and is of a well-understood sepulchral form, the use of which, had it been more important, or had it stood alone, would have been intelligible enough; but what are the side turrets? If one might hazard so bold a conjecture, I would suggest that the original from which this is derived was a five-turreted tomb, like that of Aruns (Woodcut No. 176), or that of Alyattes at Sardis, which in course of time became translated into so foreign a shape as this; but where are the intermediate forms? and by whom and when was this change effected? Before forming any theories on this subject, it will be well to consider whether all these buildings really are tombs. Most of them undoubtedly are so; but may not the name el Deir, or the Convent, applied by the Arabs to one of the principal rock-cut monuments of Petra, be after all the true designation? Are none of them, in short, cells for priests, like the viharas found in India? All who have hitherto visited these spots have assumed at once that everything cut in the rock must be a tomb, but I am much mistaken if this is really the case with all.
To return, however, to the Khasné. Though all the forms of the architecture are Roman, the details are so elegant and generally so well designed as almost to lead to the suspicion that there must have been some Grecian influence brought to bear upon the work. The masses of rock left above the wings show how early a specimen of its class it is, and how little practice its designers could have had in copying in the rock the forms of their regular buildings.
A little further within the city is found another very similar in design to this, but far inferior to it in detail and execution, and showing at least a century of degradation, though at the same time presenting an adaptation to rock-cut forms not found in the earlier examples.
A third is that above alluded to, called el Deir. This is the same in general outline as the two former—of an order neither Greek nor Roman, but with something like a Doric frieze over a very plain Corinthian capital. In other respects it presents no new feature except the apparent absence of a door, and on the whole it seems, if finished, to deserve its name less than either of the other two.
Perhaps the most singular object among these tombs, if tombs they are, is the flat façade with three storeys of pillars one over the other—slightly indicated on the left of the Corinthian tomb in Woodcut No. 235. It is like the proscenium of some of the more recent Greek theatres. If it was really the frontispiece to a tomb, it was totally unsuitable to the purpose, and is certainly one of the most complete misapplications of Greek architecture ever made.
Generally speaking, the interiors of these buildings are so plain that travellers have not cared either to draw or measure them; one, however, represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 236), is richly ornamented, and, as far as can be judged from what is published, is as unlike a tomb as it is like a vihara. But, as before remarked, they all require re-examination before the purpose for which they were cut can be pronounced upon with any certainty.
The next group of tombs is that at Jerusalem. These are undoubtedly all sepulchres. By far the greater number of them are wholly devoid of architectural ornament. To the north of the city is a group known as the Tombs of the Kings, with a façade of a corrupt Doric order, similar to some of the latest Etruscan tombs.[191] These are now very much ruined, but still retain sufficient traces of the original design to fix their date within or subsequently to the Herodian period without much possibility of doubt. A somewhat similar façade, but of a form more like the Greek Doric, found in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, bears the name of the Sepulchre of St. James.
Close to this is a square tomb, known as that of Zechariah, cut in the rock, but standing free. Each face is adorned with Ionic pillars and square piers at the angles, the whole being crowned with a pyramidal roof. Perhaps this building should properly be called a cenotaph, as it is perfectly solid, and no cave or sepulchral vault has been found beneath it, though judging from analogies one might yet be found if properly looked for. A tomb with an architectural façade, similar to that of the so-called Tomb of the Judges, does exist behind it cut in rock, and is consequently of more modern construction. It may be to mark this that the architectural monolith was left.
Close to this is another identical with it in as far as the basement is concerned, and which is now popularly known as the Tomb of Absalom; but in this instance the pyramid has been replaced with a structural spire, and it is probable when this was done that the chamber which now exists in its interior was excavated.
One of the remarkable points in these tombs is the curious jumble of the Roman orders which they present. The pillars and pilasters are Ionic, the architraves and frieze Doric, and the cornice Egyptian. The capitals and frieze are so distinctly late Roman, that we can feel no hesitation as to their date being either of the age of Herod or subsequent to that time. In an architectural point of view the cornice is too plain to be pleasing if not painted; it probably therefore was so treated.
Another class of these tombs is represented by the so-called Tomb of the Judges (Woodcut No. 241). These are ornamented by a tympanum of a Greek or Roman temple filled with a scroll-work of rich but debased pattern, and is evidently derived from something similar, though Grecian in design. In age it is certainly more recent than the so-called Tomb of Zechariah, as one of precisely similar design is found cut into the face of the rock out of which that monument was excavated.
The third group is that of Cyrene, on the African coast. Notwithstanding the researches of Admiral Beechey and of M. Pacho,[192] and the still more recent explorations of Messrs. Smith and Porcher, above referred to (p. 285), they are still much less perfectly known to us than they should be. Their number is immense, and they almost all have architectural façades, generally consisting of two or more columns between pilasters, like the grottoes of Beni-Hasan, or the Tomb of St. James at Jerusalem. Many of them show powerful evidence of Greek taste, while some may be as old as the Grecian era, though the greater part are undoubtedly of Roman date, and the paintings with which many of them are still adorned are certainly Roman in design. Two of them are illustrated by Woodcuts Nos. 165 and 166: one as showing more distinct evidence of Greek taste and colour than is to be found elsewhere, though it is doubtful if it belongs to the Grecian period any more than the so-called Tomb of St. James at Jerusalem; the other, though of equally uncertain date, is interesting as being a circular monument built over a cave like that at Amrith (Woodcut No. 122), and is the only other example now known. None of them have such splendid architectural façades as the Khasné at Petra; but the number of tombs which are adorned with architectural features is greater than in that city, and, grouped as they are together in terraces on the hill-side, they constitute a necropolis which is among the most striking of the ancient world. Altogether this group, though somewhat resembling that at Castel d’Asso, is more extensive and far richer in external architecture.[193]
Time has not left us any perfect structural tombs in all these places, though there can be little doubt but they were once numerous. Almost the only tomb of this class constructed in masonry known to exist, and which in many respects is perhaps the most interesting of all, is found in Asia Minor, at Mylassa in Caria. In form it is something like the free-standing rock-cut examples at Jerusalem. As shown in the woodcut (No. 242), it consists of a square base, which supports twelve columns, of which the eight inner ones support a dome, the outer four merely completing the square. The dome itself is constructed in the same manner as all the Jaina domes are in India (as will be explained hereafter when describing that style), and, though ornamented with Roman details, is so unlike anything else ever built by that people, and is so completely and perfectly what we find reappearing ten centuries afterwards in the far East, that we are forced to conclude that it belongs to a style once prevalent and long fixed in these lands, though this one now stands as the sole remaining representative of its class.
Another example, somewhat similar in style, though remotely distant in locality, is found at Dugga, near Tunis, in Africa. This, too, consists of a square base, taller than in the last example, surmounted by twelve Ionic columns, which are here merely used as ornaments. There were probably square pilasters at the angles, like that at Jerusalem (Woodcuts Nos. 238, 239), while the Egyptian form of the cornice is similar to that found in these examples, though with the omission of the Doric frieze.
It apparently originally terminated in a pyramid of steps like the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, and a large number of structural tombs which copied that celebrated model. Nothing of this now remains but the four corner-stones, which were architecturally most essential to accentuate the weak lines of a sloping pyramid in such a situation. Taken altogether, perhaps no more graceful monument of its class has come down to our days than this must have been when complete.
Besides these there are in Algeria two tombs of very great interest, both from their size and the peculiarity of their forms. The best known is that on the coast a short distance from Algiers to the westward. It is generally known as the Kubr Roumeïa, or Tomb of the Christian Virgin—a name it acquired from its having four false doors, each of a single stone divided into four panels, and the stile between them forming a cross, which has consequently been assumed to be the Christian symbol. The building itself, which is circular, and as nearly as may be 200 ft. in diameter, stands on a square platform measuring 210 ft. The perpendicular part is ornamented by 60 engaged columns of the Ionic order, and by the four false doors just mentioned; above this rose a cone—apparently in 40 steps—making the total height about 130 ft. It is, however, so ruined that it is very difficult to feel sure about its exact dimensions or form.
From objects and scribblings of various kinds found in the interior, it appears to have remained open till nearly the time of the Moslem conquest, but shortly afterwards to have been closed, and to have defied all the ingenuity of explorers till a passage was forced in 1866 by Messrs. MacCarthy and Berbrugger, acting under the orders and at the expense of the late Emperor Napoleon III.[194] The entrance was found passing under the sill of the false door on the east from a detached building standing outside the platform, and which seems to have been originally constructed to cover and protect the entrance. From this a winding passage, 560 ft. in length, led to the central chamber where it is assumed the royal bodies were once deposited, but when opened no trace of them remained, nor anything to indicate who they were, nor in what manner they were buried.
The other tomb, the Madracen, is very similar to this one, but smaller. Its peristyle is of a sort of Doric order, without bases, and surmounted by a quasi-Egyptian cornice, not unlike that on the Tomb of Absalom at Jerusalem (Woodcut No. 240), or that at Dugga (Woodcut No. 243). Altogether its details are more elegant, and from their general character there seems no reason for doubting that this tomb is older than the Kubr Roumeïa, though they are so similar to each other that their dates cannot be far distant.[195]
There seems almost no reason for doubting that the Kubr Roumeïa was the “Monumentum commune Regiæ gentis” mentioned by Pomponius Mela,[196] about the middle of the first century of our era, and if so, this could only apply to the dynasty that expired with Juba II., A.D. 23, and in that case the older monument most probably belonged to the previous dynasty, which ceased to reign with Bocchus III., 33 years before the birth of Christ.
One of the most interesting points connected with these Mauritanian tombs is their curious similarity to that of Hadrian at Rome. The square base, the circular colonnade, the conical roof, are all the same. At Rome they are very much drawn out, of course, but that arose from the “Mole” being situated among tall objects in a town, and more than even that, perhaps, from the tendency towards height which manifested itself so strongly in the architecture of that age.
The greatest similarity, however, exists in the interior. The long winding corridor terminating in an oblong apartment in the centre is an identical feature in both, but has not yet been traced elsewhere, though it can be hardly doubted that it must have existed in many other examples.
If we add to these the cenotaph at St. Rémi (Woodcut No. 231), we have a series of monuments of the same type extending over 400 years; and, though many more are wanted before we can fill up the gaps and complete the series, there can be little doubt that the missing links once existed which connected them together. Beyond this we may go still further back to the Etruscan tumuli and the simple mounds of earth on the Tartar steppes. At the other end of the series we are evidently approaching the verge of the towers and steeples of Christian art; and, though it may seem the wildest of hypotheses to assert that the design of the spire of Strasbourg grew out of the mound of Alyattes, it is nevertheless true, and it is only non-apparent because so many of the steps in the progress from the one to the other have disappeared in the convulsions of the interval.
DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE.
We know, not only from the descriptions and incidental notices that have come down to us, but also from the remains found at Pompeii and elsewhere, that the private dwellings of the Romans were characterised by that magnificence and splendour which we find in all their works, accompanied, probably, with more than the usual amount of bad taste.
In Rome itself no ancient house—indeed no trace of a domestic edifice—exists except the palaces of the Cæsars on the Palatine Mount, and the house of the Vestal Virgins[197] at its foot; and these even are now a congeries of shapeless ruins, so completely destroyed as to make it difficult even for the most imaginative of restorers to make much of them. The extent of these ruins, however, coupled with the descriptions that have been preserved, suffice to convince us that, of all the palaces ever built, either in the East or the West, these were probably the most magnificent and the most gorgeously adorned. Never in the world’s history does it appear that so much wealth and power were at the command of one man as was the case with the Cæsars; and never could the world’s wealth have fallen into the hands of men more inclined to lavish it for their own personal gratification than these emperors were. They could, moreover, ransack the whole world for plunder to adorn their buildings, and could command the best artists of Greece, and of all the subject kingdoms, to assist in rendering their golden palaces the most gorgeous that the world had then seen, or is likely soon to see again. The whole area of the palace may roughly be described as a square platform measuring 1500 ft. east and west, with a mean breadth of 1300 ft. in the opposite direction. Owing, however, to its deeply indented and irregular outline, it hardly covers more ground than the Baths of Caracalla.
Recent excavations have laid bare nearly the whole of the western portion of this area, and have disclosed the plan of the building, but all has been so completely destroyed that it requires considerable skill and imagination to reinstate it in its previous form. The one part that remains tolerably perfect is the so-called house of Livia the wife of Augustus, who is said to have lived in it after the death of her husband. In dimensions and arrangement it is not unlike the best class of Pompeian houses, but its paintings and decorations are very superior to anything found in that city. They are, in fact, as might be expected from their age and position, the finest mural decorations that have come down to us, and as they are still wonderfully perfect, they give a very high idea of the perfection of art attained in the Augustan age, to which they certainly belong.
That part of the palace on the Palatine which most impresses the visitor is the eastern half, which looks on one hand to the Amphitheatre, on the other to the Baths of Caracalla, and overhangs the Circus Maximius. Though all their marble or painted decorations are gone, the enormous masses of masonry which here exist convey that impression of grandeur which is generally found in Roman works. It is not of Æsthetic beauty arising from ornamental or ornamented construction, but the Technic expression of power and greatness arising from mass and stability. It is the same feeling with which we contemplate the aqueducts and engineering works of this great people; and, though not of the highest class, few scenes of architectural grandeur are more impressive than the now ruined Palace of the Cæsars.
Notwithstanding all this splendour, this palace was probably as an architectural object inferior to the Thermæ. The thousand and one exigencies of private life render it impossible to impart to a residence—even to that of the world’s master—the same character of grandeur as may be given to a building wholly devoted to show and public purposes. In its glory the Palace of the Cæsars must have been the world’s wonder; but as a ruin deprived of its furniture and ephemeral splendour, it loses much that would tend to make it either pleasing or instructive. We must not look for either beauty of proportion or perfection of construction, or even for appropriateness of material, in the hastily constructed halls of men whose unbounded power was only equalled by the coarse vulgarity of their characters.
SPALATO.
The only palace of the Roman world of which sufficient remains are still left to enable us to judge either of its extent or arrangements is that which Diocletian built for himself at Spalato, in Dalmatia, and in which he spent the remaining years of his life, after shaking off the cares of Empire. It certainly gives us a most exalted idea of what the splendour of the imperial palace at Rome must have been when we find one emperor—certainly neither the richest nor the most powerful—building, for his retirement, a villa in the country of almost exactly the same dimensions as the Escurial in Spain, and consequently surpassing in size, as it did in magnificence, most of the modern palaces of Europe.
It is uncertain how far it resembles or was copied from that in Rome, more especially as it must be regarded as a fortified palace, which there is no reason to believe that at Rome was, while its model would seem to have been the prætorian camp rather than any habitation built within the protection of the city walls. In consequence of this its exterior is plain and solid, except on the side next the sea, where it was least liable to attack. The other three sides are only broken by the towers that flank them, and by those that defend the great gates which open in the centre of each face.
The building is nearly a regular parallelogram, though not quite so. The south side is that facing the sea, and is 592 ft. from angle to angle; the one opposite being only 570 in length;[198] while the east and west sides measure each 698 ft., the whole building thus covering about 9½ English acres.
The principal entrance to the palace is on the north, and is called the Golden Gate, and, as represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 247), shows all the peculiarities of Roman architecture in its last stage. The horizontal architrave still remains over the doorway, a useless ornament, under a bold discharging arch, which usurps its place and does its duty. Above this, a row of Corinthian columns, standing on brackets, once supported the archivolts of a range of niches—a piece of pleasing decoration, it must be confessed, but one in which the original purpose of the column has been entirely overlooked or forgotten.
Entering this portal, we pass along a street ornamented with arcades on either side, till exactly in the centre of the building this is crossed at right angles by another similar street, proceeding from the so-called Iron and Brazen Gates, which are similar to the Golden Gate in design, but are far less richly ornamented.
These streets divided the building into four portions: those to the north are so much ruined that it is not now easy to trace their plan, or to say to what purpose they were dedicated; but probably the one might have been the lodgings of the guests, the other the residence of the principal officers of the household.
The whole of the southern half of the building was devoted to the palace properly so called. It contained two temples, as they are now designated. That on the right is said to have been dedicated to Jupiter, though, judging from its form, it would appear to have been designed rather as the mausoleum of the founder than as a temple of that god. On the assumption that it was a temple it has been illustrated at a previous page.[199] Opposite to it is another small temple, dedicated, it is said, to Æsculapius.
Between these two is the arcade represented in Woodcut No. 185, at the upper end of which is the vestibule—circular, as all buildings dedicated to Vesta, or taking their name from that goddess, should be. This opened directly on to a magnificent suite of nine apartments, occupying the principal part of the south front of the palace. Beyond these, on the right hand, were the private apartments of the emperor, and behind them his baths. The opposite side is restored as if it exactly corresponded, but this is more than doubtful; and, indeed, there is scarcely sufficient authority for many of the details shown in the plan, though they are, probably, on the whole, sufficiently exact to convey a general idea of the arrangements of a Roman imperial palace.
Perhaps, however, the most splendid feature in this palace was the great southern gallery, 515 ft. in length by 24 in width, extending along the whole seaward face of the building. Besides its own intrinsic beauty as an architectural feature, it evinces an appreciation of the beauties of nature which one would hardly expect in a Roman. This great arcade is the principal feature in the whole design, and commands a view well worthy the erection of such a gallery for its complete enjoyment.
POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM.
Failing to discover any example of domestic architecture in Rome, we turn to Pompeii and Herculaneum, where we find numerous and most interesting examples of houses of all classes, except, perhaps, the best; for there is nothing there to compare with the Laurentian villa of Pliny, or with some others of which descriptions have come down to us. Pompeii, moreover, was far more a Grecian than a Roman city, and its buildings ought to be considered rather as illustrative of those of Greece, or at least of Magna Græcia, than of anything found to the northward. Still these cities belonged to the Roman age, and, except in taste and in minor arrangements, we have no reason to doubt that the buildings did resemble those of Rome, at least to a sufficient extent for illustration.
With scarcely an exception, all the houses of Pompeii were of one storey only in height. It is true that in some we find staircases leading to the roof, and traces of an upper storey, but where this latter is the case the apartments would appear to have been places for washing and drying clothes, or for some such domestic purpose rather than for living or even sleeping rooms. All the principal apartments were certainly on the ground floor, and as an almost inevitable corollary from this, they all faced inwards, and were lighted from courtyards or atria, and not from the outside; for, with a people who had not glass with which to glaze their windows, it was impossible to enjoy privacy or security without at the same time excluding both light and air, otherwise than by lighting their rooms from the interior. Hence it arose that in most instances the outside of the better class of houses was given up to shops and smaller dwellings, which opened on to the street, while the residence, with the exception of the principal entrance, and sometimes one or two private doors that opened outwards, was wholly hidden from view by their entourage.
Even in the smallest class of tradesmen’s houses which opened on the street, one apartment seems always to have been left unroofed to light at least two rooms on each side of it, used as bedrooms; but as the roofs of all are now gone, it is not always easy to determine which were so treated.
It is certain that, in the smallest houses which can have belonged to persons at all above the class of shopkeepers, there was always a central apartment, unroofed in the centre, into which the others opened. Sometimes this was covered by two beams placed in one direction, and two crossing them at right angles, framing the roof into nine compartments, generally of unequal dimensions, the central one being open, and with a corresponding sinking in the floor to receive the rain and drainage which inevitably came through it. When this court was of any extent, four pillars were required at the intersection of the beams, or angles of the opening, to support the roof. In larger courts eight, twelve, sixteen, or more columns were so employed, often apparently more as decorative objects than as required by the constructive necessities of the case, and very frequently the numbers of these on either side of the apartment did not correspond. Frequently the angles were not right angles, and the pillars were spaced unequally with a careless disregard of symmetry that strikes us as strange, though in such cases this may have been preferable to cold and formal regularity, and even more productive of grace and beauty. Besides these courts, there generally existed in the rear of the house another bounded by a dead wall at the further extremity, and which in the smaller houses was painted, to resemble the garden which the larger mansions possessed in this direction. The apartments looking on this court were of course perfectly private, which cannot be said of any of those looking inwards on the atrium.
The house called that of Pansa at Pompeii is a good illustration of these peculiarities, and, as one of the most regular, has been frequently chosen for the purpose of illustration.
In the annexed plan (Woodcut No. 248) all the parts that do not belong to the principal mansion are shaded darker except the doubtful part marked A, which may either have been a separate house, or the women’s apartments belonging to the principal one, or, what is even more probable, it may have been designed so as to be used for either purpose. B is certainly a separate house, and the whole of the remainder of this side, of the front, and of the third side, till we come opposite to A, was let off as shops. At C we have the kitchen and servants’ apartments, with a private entrance to the street, and an opening also to the principal peristyle of the house.
Returning to the principal entrance or front door D, you enter through a short passage into the outer court E, on each side of which are several small apartments, used either by the inferior members of the household or by guests. A wider passage than the entrance leads from this to the peristyle, or principal apartment of the house. On the left hand are several small rooms, used no doubt as sleeping apartments, which were probably closed by half-doors open above and below, so as to admit air and light, while preserving sufficient privacy, for Roman tastes at least. In front and on the right hand are two larger rooms, either of which may have been the triclinium or dining-room, the other being what we should call the drawing-room of the house. A passage between the kitchen and the central room leads to a verandah which crosses the whole length of the house, and is open to the garden beyond.
As will be observed, architectural effect has been carefully studied in this design, a vista nearly 300 ft. in length being obtained from the outer door to the garden wall, varied by a pleasing play of light and shade, and displaying a gradually increasing degree of spaciousness and architectural richness as we advance. All these points must have been productive of the most pleasing effect when complete, and of more beauty than has been attained in almost any modern dwelling of like dimensions.
Generally speaking the architectural details of the Pompeian houses are carelessly and ungracefully moulded, though it cannot be denied that sometimes a certain elegance of feeling runs through them that pleases in spite of our better judgment. It was not, however, on form that they depended for their effect; and consequently it is not by that that they must be judged. The whole architecture of the house was coloured, but even this was not considered so important as the paintings which covered the flat surfaces of the walls. Comparing the Pompeian decoration with that of the baths of Titus, and those of the House of Livia, the only specimens of the same age and class found in Rome, it must be admitted that the Pompeian examples show an equally correct taste, not only in the choice but in the application of the ornaments used, though in the execution there is generally that difference that might be expected between paintings executed for a private individual and those for the Emperor of the Roman world. Notwithstanding this, these paintings, so wonderfully preserved in this small provincial town, are even now among the best specimens we possess of mural decoration. They excel the ornamentation of the Alhambra, as being more varied and more intellectual. For the same reason they are superior to the works of the same class executed by the Moslems in Egypt and Persia, and they are far superior to the rude attempts of the Gothic architects in the Middle Ages; still they are probably as inferior to what the Greeks did in their best days as the pillars of the Pompeian peristyles are to the porticoes of the Parthenon. But though doubtless far inferior to their originals, those at Pompeii are direct imitations of true Greek decorative forms; and it is through them alone that we can form even the most remote idea of the exquisite beauty to which polychromatic architecture once attained, but which we can scarcely venture to hope it will ever reach again.
One curious point which has hitherto been too much overlooked is, that in Pompeii there are two perfectly distinct styles of decoration. One of these is purely Etruscan, both in form and colour, and such as is only found in the tombs or on the authentic works of the Etruscans. The other is no less essentially Greek, both in design and colour: it is far more common than the Etruscan form, and is always easily to be distinguished from it. The last-mentioned or Greek style of decoration may be again divided into two varieties; one, the most common, consisting of ornaments directly copied from Greek models; the other with a considerable infusion of Roman forms. This Romanised variety of Greek decoration represents an attenuated and lean style of architecture, which could only have come into fashion from the continued use of iron or bronze, or other metallic substances, for pillars and other architectural members. Vitruvius reprobates it; and in a later age Cassiodorus speaks of it in a manner which shows that it was practised in his time. The general adoption of this class of ornament, both at Pompeii and in the baths of Titus, proves it to have been a very favourite style at that time. This being the case, it must have either been a representation of metallic pillars and other architectural objects then in use, or it must have been copied from painted decorations. This is a new subject, and cannot be made clear, except at considerable length and with the assistance of many drawings. It seems, however, an almost undoubted fact that the Romans did use metal as a constructive material. Were it only that columns of extreme tenuity are represented in these paintings, we might be inclined to ascribe it to mere incorrect drawing; but the whole style of ornament here shown is such as is never found in stone or brick pillars, and which is only susceptible of execution in metal. Besides this, the pillars in question are always shown in the decorations as though simply gilt or bronzed, while the representations of stone pillars are coloured. All this evidence goes to prove that a style of art once existed in which metal was generally employed in all the principal features, all material traces of which are now lost. The disappearance of all remains of such a style is easily accounted for by the perishable nature of iron from rust, and the value and consequent peculation induced by bronze and similar metals. We are, moreover, aware that much bronze has been stolen, even in recent days, from the Pantheon and other buildings which are known to have been adorned with it.
Another thing which we learn from these paintings is, that though the necessities of street architecture compelled these city mansions to take a rectilinear outline, whenever the Roman architects built in the country they indulged in a picturesque variety of outline and of form, which they carried perhaps as far as even the Gothic architects of the Middle Ages. This indeed we might have expected, from their carelessness in respect to regularity in their town-houses; but these were interiors, and were it not for the painted representations of houses, we should have no means of judging how the same architects would treat an exterior in the country. From this source, however, we learn that in the exterior arrangements, in situations where they were not cramped by confined space, their plans were totally free from all stiffness and formality. In this respect Roman taste coincided with that of all true architecture in all parts of the world.
Each part of the design was left to tell its own tale and to express the use to which each apartment was applied, though the whole were probably grouped together with some reference to symmetry. There is certainly nothing in these ancient examples to justify the precise regularity which the architects of the Renaissance introduced into their classical designs, in which they sought to obliterate all distinction between the component parts in a vain attempt to make one great whole out of a great number of small discordant fragments.
BRIDGES AND AQUEDUCTS.
Perhaps the most satisfactory works of the Romans are those which we consider as belonging to civil engineering rather than to architecture. The distinction, however, was not known in those earlier days. The Romans set about works of this class with a purpose-like earnestness that always ensures success, and executed them on a scale which leaves nothing to be desired; while at the same time they entirely avoided that vulgarity which their want of refinement allowed almost inevitably to appear in more delicate or more ornate buildings. Their engineering works also were free from that degree of incompleteness which is inseparable from the state of transition in which their architecture was during the whole period of the Empire. It is owing to these causes that the substructions of the Appian way strike every beholder with admiration and astonishment; and nothing impresses the traveller more, on visiting the once imperial city, than the long lines of aqueducts that are seen everywhere stretching across the now deserted plain of the Campagna. It is true they are mere lines of brick arches, devoid of ornament and of every attempt at architecture properly so called; but they are so well adapted to the purpose for which they were designed, so grand in conception, and so perfect in execution, that, in spite of their want of architectural character, they are among the most beautiful of the remains of Roman buildings.
The aqueducts were not, however, all so devoid of architectural design as those of the Campagna. That, for instance, known as the Pont du Gard, built to convey water to the town of Nîmes in France, is one of the most striking works of antiquity. Its height above the stream is about 180 ft., divided into two tiers of larger arches surmounted by a range of smaller ones, giving the structure the same finish and effect that an entablature and cornice gives to a long range of columns. Without the introduction of one single ornament, or of any member that was not absolutely wanted, this arrangement converts what is a mere utilitarian work into an architectural screen of a beauty hitherto unrivalled in its class.
The aqueducts of Segovia and Tarragona in Spain, though not perhaps so grand, are quite as elegant and appropriate as this; and if they stood across a line of well wooded and watered valleys, might form as beautiful objects. Unfortunately the effect is much marred by the houses and other objects that crowd their bases. Both these rise to about 100 ft. above the level of their foundation in the centre. That of Segovia is raised on light piers, the effect of which is perhaps somewhat spoiled by numerous offsets, and the upper tier is if anything too light for the lower. These defects are avoided at Tarragona, the central arches of which are shown in Woodcut No. 251. In this example the proportion of the upper to the lower arcade is more perfect, and the whole bears a character of lightness combined with constructive solidity and elegance unrivalled, so far as I know, in any other work of its class. It wants, however, the grandeur of the Pont du Gard; for though its length is about the same, exceeding 800 ft., it has neither its height nor the impression of power given by the great arches of that building, especially when contrasted with those that are smaller.
The Roman bridges were designed on the same grand scale as their aqueducts, though from their nature they of course could not possess the same grace and lightness. This was, however, more than compensated by their inherent solidity and by the manifestation of strength imparted by the Romans to all these structures. They seem to have been designed to last for ever; and but for the violence of man, it would be hardly possible to set limits to their durability. Many still remain in almost every corner of the Roman Empire; and wherever found are easily recognised by the unmistakable impress of Roman grandeur which is stamped upon them.
One of the most remarkable of these is that which Trajan erected at Alcantara, in Spain, represented in the annexed woodcut. The roadway is perfectly level, as is generally the case in Roman bridges, though the mode by which this is obtained, of springing the arches from different levels, is perhaps not the most pleasing. To us at least it is unfamiliar, and has never, I think, been adopted in modern times. In such a case we should either have made the arches all equal—a mistake, considering their different heights—or have built solidly over the smaller arches to bring up the level, which would have been a far greater error in construction than the other is in taste. The bridge consists of six arches, the whole length of the roadway being 650 ft.; the two central arches are about 100 ft. span; the roadway is 140 ft. above the level of the stream which it crosses. The piers are well proportioned and graceful; and altogether the work is as fine and as tasteful an example of bridge-building as can be found anywhere, even in these days of engineering activity.
The bridge which the same Emperor erected over the Danube was a far more difficult work in an engineering point of view; but the superstructure being of wood, resting only on stone piers, it would necessarily have possessed much less architectural beauty than this, or indeed than many others.
These examples of this class of Roman works must suffice; they are so typical of the style that it was impossible to omit them altogether, though the subject scarcely belongs in strictness to the objects of this work. The bridges and aqueducts of the Romans richly deserve the attention of the architect, not only because they are in fact the only works which the Romans, either from taste or from social position, were enabled to carry out without affectation, and with all their originality and power, but also because it was in building these works that the Romans acquired that constructive skill and largeness of proportion which enabled them to design and carry out works of such vast dimensions, to vault such spaces, and to give to their buildings generally that size and impress of power which form their chief and frequently their only merit. It was this too that enabled them to originate that new style of vaulted buildings which at one period of the Middle Ages promised to reach a degree of perfection to which no architecture of the world had ever attained. The Gothic style, it is true, perished at a time when it was very far from completed; but it is a point of no small interest to know where and under what circumstances it was invented. We shall subsequently have to trace how far it advanced towards that perfection at which it aimed, but to which it never reached. Strangely enough, it failed solely because of the revival and the pernicious influence of that very parent style to which it owed its birth, and the growth and maturity of which we have just been describing. It was the grandeur of the edifices reared at Rome in the first centuries of the Empire which so impressed the architects of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, that they abandoned their own beautiful style to imitate that of the Romans, but with an incongruity which seems inevitably to result from all imitations, as contrasted with true creations, in architectural art.
VI. PARTHIAN AND SASSANIAN ARCHITECTURE
CONTENTS.
Historical notice—Palaces of Al Hadhr and Diarbekr—Domes—Palaces of Serbistan—Firouzabad—Tâk Kesra—Mashita—Rabbath Ammon.
CHRONOLOGY.
Parthians subject to Persia B.C. 554 Seleucus Nicator 301 Arsaces 250 Mithridates 163-140 Mithridates II 124-89 Palace of Al Hadhr built (about) A.D. 200 End of Parthian Empire 227 ---------- Ardeshir, or Artaxerxes, establishes Sassanian dynasty 226 Tiridates 286-342 Serbistan (about) 350 Bahram Gaur begins to reign 420 Firouzabad (about) 450 Khosru Nushirvan begins to reign 531 Khosru Nushirvan builds palace at Ctesiphon (about) 550 Khosru Purviz Chosroes 591 Palace at Mashita 614-627 Battle of Cadesia 636
There still remains one other style to be described before leaving the domain of Heathendom to venture into the wide realms of Christian and Saracenic art with which the remainder of these two volumes is mainly occupied. Unfortunately it is not one that was of great importance while it existed, and it is one of which we know very little at present. This arises partly from the fact that all the principal buildings of the Sassanian kings were situated on or near the alluvial plains of Mesopotamia and were therefore built either of sun-burnt or imperfectly baked bricks, which consequently crumbled to dust, or, where erected with more durable materials, these have been quarried by the succeeding inhabitants of these fertile regions. Partly also it arises from the Sassanians not being essentially a building race. Their religion required no temples and their customs repudiated the splendour of the sepulchre, so that their buildings were mainly palaces. One of these, that at Dustagird, is described by all contemporary historians[200] as one of the most gorgeous palaces of the East, but its glories were ephemeral: gold and silver and precious hangings rich in colour and embroidery made up a splendour in which the more stable arts of architecture had but little part, and all perished in an hour when invaded by the victorious soldiers of Heraclius, or the more destructive hosts of Arabian invaders a few years afterwards. Whatever the cause however, never was destruction more complete. Two or three ruined palaces still exist in Persia and Mesopotamia. A fragment known as the Tâk Kesra still remains to indicate the spot where Ctesiphon once stood, but the site of Dustagird is still a matter of dispute. So little in fact remains that we should hardly be able to form an idea of what the style really was, but for the fortunate discovery of a palace at Mashita in Moab, which seems undoubtedly to have been erected by the last great king of this dynasty, and which is yet unsurpassed for beauty of detail and richness of ornament by any building of its class and age.
As nearly as may be, one thousand years had elapsed since the completion of the palaces at Persepolis and Susa and the commencement of this building, and for the great part of that period the history of Persian or Central Asian architecture is a blank. The Seleucidæ built nothing that has come down to our times. The Parthians, too, have left us little, so that it is practically only after a hiatus of nearly six centuries, that we again begin to feel that the art had not entirely perished in the populous countries of Central Asia; but even then our history recommences so timidly and with buildings of such uncertain dates as to be very far from satisfactory.
One of the oldest buildings known as belonging to the new school is the palace of Al Hadhr, situated in the plain, about thirty miles from the Tigris, nearly west from the ruins of Kaleh Shergat.
The city itself is circular in plan, nearly an English mile in diameter, and surrounded by a stone wall with towers at intervals, in the centre of which stands a walled enclosure, nearly square in plan, about 700 ft. by 800. This is again subdivided into an outer and inner court by a wall across its centre. The outer court is unencumbered by buildings, the inner nearly filled with them.[201] The principal of these is that represented in plan on Woodcut No. 253. It consists of three large and four smaller halls placed side by side, with various smaller apartments in the rear. All these halls are roofed by semicircular tunnel-vaults, without ribs or other ornament, and they are all entirely open in front, all the light and air being admitted from the one end.
There can be little doubt that these halls are copies, or intended to be so, of the halls of the old Assyrian palaces; but the customs and requirements of the period have led the architect on to a new class of arrangements which renders the resemblance by no means apparent at first sight.
The old halls had almost invariably their entrances on the longer side, which with a vault required very thick external walls as abutments. This was obviated in Al Hadhr by using the halls as abutments the one to the other like the arches of a bridge; so that, if the two external arches were firm, all the rest were safe. This was provided for by making the outer halls smaller, as shown in the elevation (Woodcut No. 254), or by strengthening the outer wall. But even then the architect seems to have shrunk from weakening the intermediate walls by making too many openings in them. Those which do exist are small and infrequent; so that there is generally only one entrance to each apartment, and that so narrow as to seem incongruous with the size of the room to which it leads.
The square apartment at the back would seem to have been a temple, as the lintel over the entrance doorway (which faces the east) is carved with the sun, the moon, and other religious emblems; and the double wall round may have contained a stair or inclined plane leading to an upper storey, or to rooms which certainly existed over the smaller halls at least.
All the details of the building are copied from the Roman—the archivolts and pilasters almost literally so, but still so rudely executed as to prove that it was not done under the direct superintendence of a Roman artist. This is even more evident with regard to the griffins and scroll-work, and the acanthus-leaves which ornament the capitals and friezes. The most peculiar ornament, however, is the range of masks carried round all the archivolts of the smaller arches. Of the nineteen voussoirs of the larger arches, seven of them, according to Ross and Ainsworth, had figures carved on them in relief of angels, or females, apparently in the air, and with feet crossed and robes flying loose, possibly emblematic of the seven planets. Even tradition is silent regarding the date of these remarkable ruins; the town was besieged unsuccessfully by Trajan in 116 A.D., and it is recorded to have been a walled town containing a temple of the sun noted for its rich offerings. This is probably the square building at the back of the great hall on the left of the palace, and the existence of the carved religious emblems on the lintel suggest that the palace was erected in front at a later period. Professor Rawlinson, in his notes on the great monarchies,[202] suggests about 200 A.D. as the probable date, and ascribes its erection to the monarchs of the Parthian dynasty. There is no doubt that the execution of the masonry with its fine joints is of a totally different character from that which is found in Sassanian buildings, which comes more under the head of rubble masonry, and was entirely hidden, in the interior at least, by stucco. The ornament also is of a rich character, Roman in its design, but debased Greek in its execution. Mr. Loftus, during his researches in Chaldea, discovered at Wurka (the ancient Erech in Mesopotamia), a large number of ornamental details, in stone and in plaster, of precisely the same character as those found at Al Hadhr. Among these remains he found a griffin resembling those carved on the lintel of the square temple before referred to, and quantities of Parthian coins, so that it is fair to assume that Al Hadhr belongs to that dynasty.
Another building which merits more attention than has hitherto been bestowed upon it, is now used as the great mosque at Diarbekr. The ancient portions consist of the façades only of two palaces, the north and the south, which face one another at a distance of some 400 feet, and form the boundaries of the great court (Woodcut No. 255). They are apparently erected with materials taken from some more ancient building, and whilst the capitals and friezes are of debased Roman character, the carved shafts of the north palace (Woodcut No. 257) resemble in the plaster design ornaments found at Wurka.
As will be seen in Woodcut No. 256, which represents the façade of the South Palace, the openings of the ground storey are spanned by arches of two different forms; and those of the upper storey by lintels carried on corbels with relieving arch over; the latter a Byzantine treatment; the former of a very much later date, and probably Saracenic: above the openings and under the frieze are Cufic inscriptions. On the whole there seems little doubt that the building we now see was erected, as it now stands, at the age of the Cufic inscriptions,[203] whatever they may be, but that the remains of some more ancient edifice was most skilfully worked up in the new. Till, however, the building is carefully examined by some thoroughly competent person, this must remain doubtful. The building is rich, and so interesting that it is to be hoped that its history and peculiarities will before long be investigated.
With the accession of the Sassanians, A.D. 223, Persia regained much of that power and stability to which she had been so long a stranger. The capture of the Roman Emperor Valerian by the 2nd king of the race, A.D. 260, the Conquest of Armenia and victories over Galerius by the 7th (A.D. 296), and the exploits of the 14th King, Bahram Gaur, his visit to India and his alliance with its kings, all point to extended power abroad; while the improvement in the fine arts at home indicates returning prosperity and a degree of security unknown since the fall of the Achæmenidæ.
These kings seem to have been of native race, and claimed descent from the older dynasties: at all events they restored the ancient religion and many of the habits and customs with which we are familiar as existing before the time of Alexander the Great.
As before remarked, fire-worship does not admit of temples, and we consequently miss that class of buildings which in all ages best illustrates the beauties of architecture; and it is only in a few scattered remains of palaces that we are able to trace the progress of the style. Such as they are, they indicate considerable originality and power, but at the same time point to a state of society when attention to security hardly allowed the architect the free exercise of the more delicate ornaments of his art.
The Sassanians took up the style where it was left by the builders of Al Hadhr; but we only find it after a long interval of time, during which changes had taken place which altered it to a considerable extent, and made it in fact into a new and complete style.
They retained the great tunnel-like halls of Al Hadhr, but only as entrances. They cut bold arches through the dividing walls, so as to form them into lateral suites. But, above all, they learnt to place domes on the intersections of their halls, not resting on drums, but on pendentives,[204] and did not even attempt to bring down simulated lines of support to the ground. Besides all these constructive peculiarities, they lost all trace of Roman detail, and adopted a system of long reed-like pilasters, extending from the ground to the cornice, below which they were joined by small semicircular arches. They in short adopted all the peculiarities which are found in the Byzantine style as carried out at a later age in Armenia and the East. We must know more of this style, and be able to ascribe authentic dates to such examples as we are acquainted with, before we can decide whether the Sassanians borrowed the style from the Eastern Romans, or whether they themselves were in fact the inventors from whom the architects of the more western nations took the hints which they afterwards so much improved upon.
The various steps by which the Romans advanced from the construction of buildings like the Pantheon to that of the church of Sta. Sophia at Constantinople are so consecutive and so easily traced as to be intelligible in themselves without the necessity of seeking for any foreign element which may have affected them. If it really was so, and the architecture of Constantinople was not influenced from the East, we must admit that the Sassanian was an independent and simultaneous invention, possessing characteristics well worthy of study. It is quite certain too that this style had a direct influence on the Christian and Moslem styles of Asia, which exhibit many features not derivable from any of the more Western styles.
A few examples will render this clearer than it can be made in words. The plan and section (Woodcuts Nos. 258 and 259) of a small but interesting palace at Serbistan will explain most of the peculiarities of the style. The entrances, it will be observed, are deep tunnel-like arches, but the centre is covered by a dome resting on pendentives. In the palace of Firouzabad these are constructed by throwing a series of arches across the angles, one recessed behind the other, the lower ones serving as centres for those above, until a circular base for the dome has been obtained; but here in Serbistan they do not seem to have known this expedient: the lower courses run through to the angle, and the upper ones are brought forward in so irregular and unscientific a way as to suggest that for their support they placed their reliance almost entirely on the tenacious qualities of the mortar. That which, however, would have formed the outer arch of the pendentive is wrought on the stone down almost to the springing, as if the builder of Serbistan had seen regular arched pendentives of some kind, but did not know how to build them. This is the more remarkable because, as we shall see later on, they knew how to construct semi-domes over their recesses or square niches, and in regular coursed masonry; if they had applied these to the angles, they would have invented the squinch, a kind of pendentive employed in Romanesque work in the south of France. The dome is elliptical, as are also the barrel vaults over the entrances, the recesses in the central hall, and the vaults over the lateral halls. In these lateral halls piers are built within the walls, forming a series of recesses; these either have transverse arches thrown across them where the lofty doorways come, or are covered with semidomes in regular coursed masonry, the angles being filled in below them with small arches. The lower portions of the piers consist of circular columns about six feet high, behind which a passage is formed. The builders thus obtained the means of counteracting the thrust of the vault, without breaking the external outline by buttresses and without occupying much room on the floor, while at the same time these projections added considerably to the architectural effect of the interior. The date of the building is not correctly known, but it most probably belongs to the age of Shapour, in the middle of the fourth century.
The palace at Firouzabad is probably a century more modern, and is erected on a far more magnificent scale, being in fact the typical building of the style, so far at least as we at present know.
As will be seen in the plan, the great central entrance opens laterally into two side chambers, and the inner of these into a suite of three splendid domed apartments, occupying the whole width of the building. Beyond this is an inner court, surrounded by apartments all opening upon it.
As will be perceived from Woodcut No. 261, representing one of the doorways in the domed halls, the details have nothing Roman about them, but are borrowed directly from Persepolis, with so little change that the style, so far as we can now judge, is almost an exact reproduction, except that the work is only surface ornament in plaster, and is an irregular and a degraded copy of the original stone features at Persepolis. The opening also is spanned by a circular arch under the lintel of the Persian example, the former being the real constructive feature, the latter a decorative imitation. The portion of the exterior represented in Woodcut No. 262 tells the same tale, though for its prototype we must go back still further to the ruins at Wurka—the building called Wuswus at that place (see p. 165) being a palace arranged very similarly to these, and adorned externally by panellings and reeded pilasters, differing from these buildings only in detail and arrangement, but in all essentials so like them as to prove that the Sassanians borrowed most of their peculiarities from earlier native examples.
The building itself is a perfectly regular parallelogram, 332 ft. by 180, without a single break, or even an opening of any sort, except the one great arch of the entrance; and externally it has no ornament but the repetition of the tall pilasters and narrow arches represented in Woodcut No. 262. Its aspect is thus simple and severe, but more like a gigantic Bastile than the palace of a gay, pavilion-loving people, like the Persians.
Internally the arrangement of the halls is simple and appropriate, and, though somewhat too formal, is dignified and capable of considerable architectural display. On the whole, however, its formality is perhaps less pleasing than the more picturesque arrangements of the palace at Serbistan last described.
Another century probably elapsed before Khosru (Nushirvan) commenced the most daring, though certainly not the most beautiful ever attempted by any of his race; for to him we must ascribe the well-known Tâk Kesra (Woodcuts Nos. 263, 264), the only important ruin that now marks the site of the Ctesiphon of the Greeks—the great Modain of the Arabian conquerors.
As it is, it is only a fragment of a palace, a façade similar in arrangement to that at Firouzabad, but on a much larger scale, its width being 312 ft., its height 105 to 110, and the depth of the remaining block 170 ft. In the centre is a magnificent portal, the Aiwan, or Throne room of the palace, vaulted over with an elliptical barrel vault and similar to the smaller vestibules of Serbistan and Firouzabad; the lower portion of the arch, the springing of which is about 40 ft. from the ground, is built in horizontal courses up to 63 ft. above the ground, above which comes the portion arched with regular voussoirs; by this method not only was an enormous centering saved, but the thrust of that portion built with voussoirs was brought well within the thickness of the side walls. It is probable that the front portion of the arch, about 20 ft. in depth, was built on walls erected temporarily for that purpose; the remainder of the vault, however, was possibly erected without centres, the bricks being placed flatwise and the rings being inclined at an angle of about 10° towards the back of the front arch. The tenacious quality of the mortar was probably sufficient to hold the bricks in their places till the arch ring was complete, so that the centering was virtually a template only, giving the correct form of the ellipse, and constructed with small timbers so as to save expense. A similar method of construction was found by Sir Henry Layard in the drain vaults at Nimroud, and it exists in the granaries built by Rameses II. in the rear of the Rameseum at Thebes. The lower or inner portion of the great arch is built in four rings of bricks or tiles laid flatwise, two of which are carried down to the springing of the whole arch: above these in the upper portion of the arch comes a ring 3 feet in height, regularly built in voussoir-shaped bricks breaking joint, on the surface of which are cut a series of seventeen foils, the whole being crowned by a slightly projecting moulding. These have nothing to do with the construction, and are simply a novel method of decoration carved after the arch was built.
The wall flanking the great arch on either side is decorated with buttress shafts and blind arches, which are partially constructive, and intended to support and strengthen those portions of the wall which were simply screens, or to resist the thrust of the walls of the vaulted chambers behind, consisting of one storey only. Decoratively they divide up the front and were apparently introduced in imitation of the great Roman amphitheatres. The position occupied by these semi-detached shafts on the first storey (resting on the ledge left by the greater thickness of wall of the lower storey), which are not in the axes of those below, proves that the Sassanian architect thought more of their constructive value as buttresses, than of their architectural value as superimposed features.
Though it may not perhaps be beautiful, there is certainly something grand in a great vaulted entrance, 72 ft. wide by 85 ft. in height and 115 in depth, though it makes the doorway at the inner end and all the adjoining parts look extremely small. It would have required the rest of the palace to be carried out on an unheard-of scale to compensate for this defect. The Saracenic architects got over the difficulty by making the great portal a semidome, and by cutting it up with ornaments and details, so that the doorway looked as large as was required for the space left for it. Here, in the parent form, all is perfectly plain in the interior, and painting alone could have been employed to relieve its nakedness, which, however, it never would have done effectually.[205]
The ornaments in these and in all the other buildings of the Sassanians having been executed in plaster, we should hardly be able to form an idea of the richness of detail they once possessed but for the fortunate discovery of a palace erected in Moab by Khosru Purviz, the last great monarch of this line.[206]
As will be seen from the woodcut (No. 265), the whole building is a square, measuring above 500 ft. each way, but only the inner portion of it, about 170 ft. square, marked E E, has been ever finished or inhabited. It was apparently originally erected as a hunting-box on the edge of the desert for the use of the Persian king, and preserves all the features we are familiar with in Sassanian palaces. It is wholly in brick, and contains in the centre a triapsal hall, once surmounted by a dome on pendentives like those at Serbistan or Firouzabad. On either side were eight vaulted halls with intermediate courts almost identical with those found at Eski Bagdad[207] or at Firouzabad. So far there is nothing either remarkable or interesting, except the peculiarity of finding a Persian building in such a situation, and in the fact that the capitals of the pillars are of that full-curved shape which are first found in the works of Justinian, which so far helps to fix the date of the building.
It seems, however, that at a time when Chosroes possessed all Asia and part of Africa, from the Indus to the Nile, and maintained a camp for ten years on the shores of the Bosphorus, in sight of Constantinople, that this modest abode no longer sufficed for the greatest monarch of the day. He consequently determined to add to it the enclosure above described, and to ornament it with a portal which should exceed in richness anything of the sort to be found in Syria. Unfortunately for the history of art, this design was never carried out. When the walls were raised to the height of about twenty feet, the workmen were called off, most probably in consequence of the result of the battle of Nineveh in 627; and the stones remain half hewn, the ornament unfinished, and the whole exactly as if left in a panic, never to be resumed.
The length of the façade—marked A A in plan, Woodcut No. 265—between the plain towers, which are the same all round, is about 170 ft.,[208] the centre of which was occupied by a square-headed portal flanked by two octagonal towers. Each face of these towers was ornamented by an equilateral triangular pediment, filled with the richest sculpture. In that shown in Woodcut No. 267, two large animals are represented facing one another on the opposite sides of a vase, on which are two doves, and out of which springs a vine which spreads over the whole surface of the triangle, interspersed with birds and bunches of grapes. In another panel one of the lions is represented with wings, evidently the last lineal descendant of those found at Nineveh and Persepolis, and in all are curious hexagonal rosettes, carved with a richness far exceeding anything found in Gothic architecture, but which are found repeated with very little variation in the Jaina temples of western India.
The wing walls of the façade are almost more beautiful than the central part itself. As on the towers, the ornamentation consists of a series of triangles filled with incised decorations and with rosettes in their centres; while, as will be observed in Woodcut No. 265, the decoration in each panel is varied, and all are unfinished. The cornice only exists at one angle, and the mortice stones never were inserted that were meant to keep it in its place. Enough however remains to enable us to see that, as a surface decoration, it is nearly unrivalled in beauty and appropriateness. As an external form I know nothing like it. It is only matched by that between the arches of the interior of Sta. Sophia at Constantinople, which is so near it in age that they may be considered as belonging to the same school of art.
Notwithstanding the incomplete state in which this façade was left, there does not seem much difficulty in restoring it within very narrow limits of certainty. The elevation cannot have differed greatly from that shown in Woodcut No. 269, on the preceding page. In the first place there must have been a great arch over the entrance doorway—this is de rigueur in Sassanian art, and this must have been stilted or horse-shoed, as without that it could not be made to fit on to the cornice in the towers, and all the arches in the interior take, as I am informed, that shape. Besides this there is at Takt-i-Gero[209] a Sassanian arch of nearly the same age and equally classical in design, which is, like this one, horse-shoed to the extent of one-tenth of its diameter; and at Urgub, in Asia Minor, all the rock-cut excavations which are of this or an earlier age have this peculiarity in a marked degree.[210]
Above this, the third storey, is a repetition of the lowest, on half its scale—as in the Tâk Kesra,—but with this difference, that here the angular form admits of its being carried constructively over the great arch, so that it becomes a facsimile of an apse at Murano near Venice,[211] which is adorned with the spoils of some desecrated building of the same age, probably of Antioch or some city of Syria destroyed by the Saracens. Above this the elevation is more open to conjecture, but it is evident that the whole façade could not have been less than 90 ft. in height, from the fact that the mouldings at the base (Woodcut No. 265) are the mouldings of a Corinthian column of that height, and no architect with a knowledge of the style would have used such mouldings four and a half feet in height, unless he intended his building to be of a height equal at least to that proportion. The domes are those of Serbistan or of Amrith (Woodcut No. 122); but such domes are frequent in Syria before this age, and became more so afterwards.
The great defect of the palace at Mashita as an illustration of Sassanian art arises from the fact that, as a matter of course, Chosroes did not bring with him architects or sculptors to erect this building. He employed the artists of Antioch or Damascus, or those of Syria, as he found them. He traced the form and design of what he wanted, and left them to execute it, and they introduced the vine—which had been the principal “motif” in such designs from the time of Herod till the Moslem invasion—and other details of the Byzantine art with which Justinian had made them familiar from his buildings at Jerusalem, Antioch, and elsewhere. Exactly the same thing happened in India six centuries later. When the Moslems conquered that country in the beginning of the thirteenth century they built mosques at Delhi and Ajmere which are still among the most beautiful to be found anywhere. The design and outline are purely Saracenic, but every detail is Hindu, but, just as in this case, more exquisite than anything the Moslems ever did afterwards in that country.
Though it thus stands almost alone, the discovery of this palace fills a gap in our history such as no other building occupies up to the present time. And when more, and more correct, details have been procured, it will be well worthy of a monograph, which can hardly be attempted now from the scanty materials available. Its greatest interest, however, lies in the fact that all the Persian and Indian mosques were derived from buildings of this class. The African mosques were enlargements of the atria of Christian basilicas, and this form is never found there, but it is the key to all that was afterwards erected to the eastward.
The palace of Rabbath Ammon (Woodcuts Nos. 270, 271), also in Moab, consists of a central court open to the sky, and four recesses or transepts, one on each face; two of these are covered with elliptical barrel vaults, and two with semidomes carried on pendentives. The decoration of this palace is similar to that found at Mashita, but not so rich in design or so good in its execution.
The remains of two other palaces have been found in Persia, one at Imumzade, which consists of a dome on pendentives, and a second, called the Tag Eiran, made known to us by M. Dieulafoy, and published in his work on the ancient art of Persia.[212] The latter is probably a late example, for it shows a considerable advance in construction, and is lighted by clerestory windows between the brick transverse arches which span the hall. The plan consisted of a central hall, covered over by a dome carried on pendentives, and two wings; of the original building, only one of these wings remains, and two sides of the central hall, in both cases up to the springing of the real arch, the lower courses being horizontal as in the arch at Ctesiphon.
In the dearth of Sassanian buildings there is one other monument that it is worth while quoting before closing this chapter. It is an archway or grotto, which the same Chosroes cut in the rock at Takt-i-Bostan, near Kermanshah (Woodcut No. 272). Though so far removed from Byzantine influence it is nearly as classical as the palace at Mashita. The flying figures over the arch are evident copies of those adorning the triumphal arches of the Romans, the mouldings are equally classical, and though the costumes of the principal personages, and of those engaged in the hunting scenes on either hand, partake more of Assyria than of Rome, the whole betrays the influence of his early education and the diffusion of Western arts at that time more than any other monument we know of. The statue of Chosroes on his favourite black steed “Shubz diz,” is original and interesting, and, with many of the details of this monument, it has been introduced into the restoration of Mashita.
This, it must be confessed, is but a meagre account of the architecture of a great people. Perhaps it may be that the materials do not exist for making it more complete; but what is more likely is that they have not yet been looked for, but will be found when attention is fairly directed to the subject. In the meanwhile what has been said regarding it will be much clearer and better understood when we come to speak of the Byzantine style, which overlapped the Sassanian, and was to some extent contemporary with it.