Gladys Wynne

Roman Architecture

The Pantheon

It has been well said that there are Three Romes:— The Rome of the Empire, or Early Rome; the Rome of the Popes, or Mediæval, that is Middle Age, Rome; and the Rome of the present day, or Modern Rome.

These three are not apart, but closely associated, side by side, the one touching the other, the one made partly out of the very stones of the other. It is this intermingling of Old and New, of ancient ruin and modern palace, that gives the City its lasting and pathetic interest.

At present we shall confine ourselves to the buildings that belong to Early Rome; and of these, two overtop all the others in importance and interest—the Pantheon and the Colosseum, a temple and a theatre.

The Pantheon (Plate VI) was erected in the reign of Hadrian, the Roman Emperor, and stands to this day almost as perfect as when it was first built, nearly two thousand years ago.

Plate VI. The Pantheon, Rome

In form it is a huge round, a perfect circle. This "roundness" is the most characteristic thing about it. The Romans delighted in the circle. It was their favourite form. They had round buildings, round tops to their doors and windows, round arches resting on round pillars, and a round roof crowning all. Such a roof is called a dome or vault.

But what is this?

The "roundness" is broken! and—by a Greek portico! It looks strangely out of place here. Both are beautiful— the Greek portico and the Roman temple, but they do not go together.

This portico is not the only thing that the Romans borrowed from the Greeks. If it is true that "imitation is the sincerest flattery," the Greeks ought to feel flattered; for the Romans borrowed all their three "orders,"—the Doric, the Ionic, and the Corinthian. But you must not expect to find these "orders" just as we saw them in Greece, in their native simplicity. Few people can leave things exactly the same as they find them, without something added or taken away, and certainly the Romans could not. They altered all three "orders" by turn, under the impression that they were improving them. Here are our friends after they have made the acquaintance of the Romans (Figures 24, 25, and 26).

Figure 24. Roman Doric

Figure 25. Roman Ionic

Figure 26. Roman Corinthian

To these three the Romans added two other orders of their own,—the Tuscan and the Composite, neither of which is very original.

The Tuscan is a kind of shabby Doric, and the Composite is a mixture or compound of the Ionic and the Corinthian. "His name is a brief of his nature," says an old writer quaintly, "for this pillar is nothing but a medley of all the preceding ornaments, making a new kind by stealth, and, though the most richly decked, yet the poorest in this, that he is a borrower of all his beauty."

But all this time we have been kept waiting in the portico of the Pantheon. Let us go in.

How vast it is, and how silent! Not a sound from the outer world reaches our ears. The loudest street noise would not be heard here. There are no windows, only one huge round hole in the great dome above our head, through which the light streams, making a large circle of sunshine on the marble floor below, and the rain, too, falls, making a great round patch of moisture.

In the walls are eight niches, whose stone arches are supported on yellow marble columns with Corinthian capitals (Figure 27). In these niches there once stood the statues of the Olympian gods; but they are now empty, for the Pantheon is no longer a Pagan temple, but a Christian church.

Figure 27. Pantheon Niche (Piranesi)

The Triumphal Column and the Triumphal Arch

The architecture of Rome is so mixed up with her history that we can scarcely speak of the one without constantly alluding to the other. Here, for instance, was the market-place or Forum, a place teeming with memories. Yonder stood the rostrum, or orator's pulpit, made of yellow marble, and adorned with the prows of ships.

A little farther off was Pompey's statue, at the base of which "great Cæsar fell!" In another forum not far off stood the famous Trajan Column—a lofty column with a figure of Trajan at the top, and his conquests graven round the shaft. Such a column was peculiarly Roman. The Greek column seldom stood alone. It was always in company, associated with other columns like itself, one of a number. But the Roman column was solitary, with a solitary figure at the top, as lonely as itself. That was the Roman way of honouring a hero. It was supposed to be very gratifying to the hero to see his statue up there.

Another way of showing honour was by the Triumphal Arch.

Two of the most famous of these arches are still standing—the Arch of Constantine, the first Christian Emperor, and the Arch of Titus, the conqueror of Jerusalem.

The Arch of Titus (Plate VII) is covered with statuary. We see the hero entering Rome on a car drawn by four horses, while the Goddess of Victory crowns him with laurels. On the other side of the arch, the spoils of war are being carried in procession—the seven-branched candlestick, the silver trumpet, and the Ark of the Covenant.

Plate VII. Arch of Titus, Rome

Usually a Roman Triumphal Arch was triple, but the Arch of Titus is somewhat different.

It has only one big arch, and a flat beam above called the "Attic," with columns in front, which seem to support the latter.

Seem only!—for alas, they are not there for use, but show! They are decorative, not constructive.

And that is the great difference between Greek art and Roman art, and between all good architecture and the not-so-good. The one takes the useful, and proceeds to ornament it. That is Constructive. The other uses ornament for ornament's sake. That is Decorative.

In the Greek temple the column is a part of the whole building, almost as much so as the roof itself. In the Roman, it is frequently a mere ornament. If you were to take away a column from the Parthenon, it would topple down; but if you were to abstract one from a Roman building, it would stand as straight as ever: and this, not because of its Spartan-like power of endurance, but because the columns are there for ornament, not use.

The Colosseum

Not far from the Colosseum, the biggest building in all Rome, was a small round temple with Corinthian columns (Figure 28). This was the Temple of Vesta, the Goddess of the Hearth.

Figure 28. Temple of Vesta, Rome. (Mater Matuta.)

Within were the white-veiled maidens whose duty it was to keep the sacred fire for ever burning. Another duty they had, and a painful one: namely, to attend the gladiatorial combats. They met in that round portico, and passed along the Forum to the Colosseum (Plate VIII) where the shows were held, and where we will accompany them.

Plate VIII. The Colosseum, Rome

This building is the most majestic ruin in all Rome. Rows and rows of ruined arches, supported on magnificent columns, and surrounding the immense arena, rise in a gigantic circle towards the sky.

Suppose we examine these columns, and find out what "order" they belong to.

But what is this? There is not one order here, but three!—Doric below, Ionic in the middle, and Corinthian above. What a contrast to the Greek buildings we have been looking at! The Parthenon was all Doric, the Erechtheum all Ionic, and the Temple of Zeus all Corinthian. That is what is meant by a Pure Style. But such severe simplicity did not appeal to the Romans. They liked something more ornate, and mixed their "orders" without the slightest scruple, and, it must be confessed, sometimes with excellent effect.

You know the uses to which this huge amphitheatre was put? How crowds and crowds of Romans, more than fifty thousand at a time, assembled here to witness the famous gladiatorial combats: that is, the spectacle of men, women and children, slaves and gladiators, fighting with each other, or with wild beasts, till one or other dropped down dead—"butchered to make a Roman holiday!" They fought fiercely but hopelessly, for they were at the mercy of a merciless crowd, bent on amusement, and their silent appeal for "Pardon" was almost invariably met by the down-turned thumb which was the signal for the fighting to go on. Their only hope lay in the intercession of the Vestal Virgins, those women we saw in the temple guarding the sacred fire. These would fain have shown mercy and ended the horrible butchery, but they feared to disappoint the multitude who had come to see the sport and would not be baulked.

Sometimes there were Christians among the victims. They were not afraid to die, for they were dying for their faith, and gloried in their martyrdom. Before the struggle they used to greet the Emperor with the words, "Ave! Cæsar! morituri te salutant!" ("Hail! Cæsar! those about to die salute thee!")

But there were others, who had not their faith to sustain them, and who felt very bitterly towards their Roman oppressors. In a famous piece of sculpture, called "The Dying Gladiator," we see one of these—a Dacian, whose home is far away on the Danube. He is thinking, as he dies, of his wife and little ones, widowed and fatherless, and his thoughts are very bitter as he wonders at the cruelty of it all.

This statue is in Rome, and the verse which follows is from Lord Byron's poem on the same subject:

Roman Genius

The Romans were the greatest builders the world has ever seen. Their temples, palaces, theatres, roads, bridges, walls, fortifications, aqueducts are world-famous, and seem as if they were built to endure for ever. You will see examples of them in all parts of the world; for, wherever the Romans conquered they taught their style of building to the conquered nation. How they did it all is the marvel, but there is no doubt about the fact; for many of these edifices stand to this day, a monument to the genius and industry of the men who raised them.

Everything the Romans did was on a gigantic scale. When you walk along a Roman Road, it is as if you were walking on the top of a wall, about five feet broad, and five feet deep—just broad enough for a chariot.

Their Bridges were as famous as their Roads (Figure 29). They always had the semi-circular Arch, and were strong and massive. You will see many examples of them in Britain; but every bridge with a semi-circular arch is not Roman—many of the so-called Roman bridges are just modern copies.

Figure 29. Bridge over St. Martin, Aosta

You have heard of the Roman aqueducts which were made to bring water from one place to another. Here is a grand one, with its two stories of vaulted arches. The water passed over the topmost arches (Figure 30).

Figure 30. Pont du Gard, Nîmes

One writer tells how during a campaign a girl in the Sabine mountains gave the general a draught of excellent water. Immediately the spring from which the water was taken was carried to Rome by an aqueduct forty miles long, which remains to this day firm and solid.

The Romans were marvels in their own way, but it was not a Greek way. They did not go in for subtlety but size; for strength, rather than simplicity. Everything they did was on a colossal scale. The vault of Heaven became the model for their arch, the dome for their roof. Their temple, the Pantheon, is dedicated "To All the Gods"!

Their decoration is on an equal scale of magnificence. They did not believe in "Beauty unadorned," but in Beauty with all her jewels on at once. Their ornament is lavish. It reminds one of some wealthy matron with a love of sparkling, who covers herself with a profusion of jewels without much care for their fitness.

Still, this goodly matron has many admirers. Byron worshipped her; Shelley immortalised her in his exquisite poem, "Adonais," and poor Keats was content to die in her arms. Her jewels are tarnished now and their glory faded, but even in decay she is grander than many another in splendour, for, with all her faults, Rome is Rome still.