Chapter 36
A Stroll Through the Forum
A few minutes later
“Do we go left or right?” Will asked over his shoulder. There were clear pathways in the lawn around the ruins of the Roman Forum as well as a pavement that appeared rather straight.
“Stay to the right and we’ll loop around when we reach the other end,” David called out.
They had already reached the Arch of Titus, where Randy attempted to read the inscription at the top.
SENATVS POPVLVSQVE ROMANVS DIVO TITO DIVI VESPASIANI F(ILIO) VESPASIANO AVGVSTO
“The Senate and People of Rome dedicate this to the Divine Titus Vespasian Augustus, son of the Divine Vespasian,” he called out, his voice far more dramatic than necessary.
“Divine?” Barbara repeated.
“Titus was deified after his death,” Will explained, “So, yes, he was divine.”
Randy passed under the arch and read the inscription on the other side.
“This monument, remarkable in terms of both religion and art, had weakened from age: Pius the Seventh, Supreme Pontiff, by new works on the model of the ancient exemplar ordered it reinforced and preserved. In the twenty-fourth year of his sacred rulership.”
Will followed him and looked up, shaking his head slightly. “That wasn’t there when I was last here, but then, this arch was in rather poor condition at the time. The restoration work has been well done.”
“Says here it was done in eighteen-twenty-one,” Tom said, the guidebook opened over one arm.
“What was that building there?” Helen asked, pointing north to what appeared to be mostly rubble atop a flat area. She had seen it from the Colosseum, where the foundations holding up the platform had been more apparent.
“The Temple of Venus and Roma,” Tom replied. “Supposedly the largest temple in Ancient Rome.”
“Felled by an earthquake?” David guessed.
“Indeed. It collapsed sometime in the early eight-hundreds. Then a church was built there.” Tom furrowed a brow. “It says here that Hadrian was rather clever regarding the choice of goddesses to honor with such a large temple.”
“Venus, the goddess of love. Amor,” David offered. “Reverse the spelling of ‘amor’ and you have ‘Roma’,” he added, his gaze darting to Vittoria. “The symmetry was perfect.”
Vittoria’s eyes rounded slightly, but she didn’t put voice to a reply.
“That must have been a rather large building,” Barbara remarked, pointing to one with arches on the front as well as multi-storied arches at the back.
“The Basilica of Maxentius,” Tom announced.
“This is about the highest point in the Forum and one of the last structures to be built here, sometime in the fourth century.” He glanced around.
“Maxentius built it, but when Constantine defeated him, he replaced Maxentius’ statue with a colossal bronze statue of himself. ”
“He wanted anyone who visited this basilica to feel his power simply by stepping inside,” Diana remarked. “The temple was an immense structure, and so was the statue—it was said to be forty feet high. Parts of it were discovered when the basilica was excavated in the late fourteen-hundreds.”
“Where are they now?” Helen asked, her gaze directed to the interior of the ruin. “Surely something that large would still be here.”
“Nine fragments of it were uncovered during the original excavation of the basilica, and they were moved to Capitoline Hill, in the courtyard of the Palazzo dei Conservatori,” Diana explained, pointing to the hill at the eastern end of the Forum.
“They are part of what they call the Capitoline Collection and were arranged by Michelangelo,” she added.
“Although the visible parts of his body were made of acrolith, a sort of composite material, the draped clothing was formed in gilt bronze, which was looted, of course,” she added in disgust. She pulled out her sketchbook and turned to a page showing a drawing she had done of what the original statue might have looked like.
David scoffed. “He’s posed exactly like Jupiter used to be shown sitting on his throne,” he said. “Holding a staff in one hand and an orb in the other.”
“It is possible the statue was originally of Jupiter,” Diana replied. “There is some evidence the face was reworked to remove a beard and to change the shape of the forehead to better match Constantine’s face and curly hair.”
“Rather egotistical of him,” Armenia remarked.
Vittoria tittered. “Men,” she whispered.
“We’re not all like that,” David argued. When Vittoria glanced over at him, he winked at her. A blush colored her face before she could break eye contact.
“Let’s move on,” Tom said, after clearing his throat. He didn’t notice Helen’s smirk, her amusement due to the conversation of the three that followed them.
“What is now the entrance to the Church of Saints Cosma and Damiano...” Tom pointed to a round building with a large bronze door and a couple of columns in front, “was originally The Temple of Divus Romulus.”
“The Romulus? How is it in such good condition?” Randy asked in awe.
“No, not for the founder of Roma,” Diana replied. “It was named for the son of Maxentius. He died at a very young age,” she explained.
“The entrance is higher than I would expect,” Barbara remarked.
“Indeed, but that bronze door is the original, and it says here, the ancient key mechanism still works,” Tom said with excitement, his finger pointing to a page in the guidebook.
He turned and faced east again. “Now this is considered the entrance to the Forum,” he announced.
“We’re actually walking on what used to be the via Sacra,” he claimed.
“The road the victorious generals would have walked when they returned from battle.”
“Rode in a golden chariot, you mean,” Diana interjected.
“Pulled by four white horses,” Tom read from the book.
“But they only did the processionals if a general killed at least five-thousand of the enemy and brought their lands under Roman control,” Diana explained. “The procession would go all the way to the Temple of Jove on Capitoline Hill.” She pointed straight ahead to indicate the hill.
Armenia glanced over at David. “She is quite the historian,” she whispered.
David nodded. “Indeed. She remembers everything she’s ever heard or read or seen,” he explained.
“Which means she has to have read about it,” Armenia pressed. Before David could agree, he saw Vittoria’s expression of delight and nearly tripped.
“I suppose that comes in rather handy when she’s in the midst of an argument,” Vittoria commented.
“Oh, we know better than to argue with her,” David assured her, which earned him a demure smile.
“What about Don Forster?”
David chuckled. “He knows better than all of us.”
“I heard that,” Randy said, but when he turned around, he was grinning. “I happen to like having my own encyclopedia at my side. She’s an immense time-saver,” he added, leaning over to bus Diana on the cheek.
Obviously stunned by his public display of affection, Diana blushed.
Unaware of what was happening behind him, Tom announced, “To the north is the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina.”
“Those Corinthian columns are still in remarkable condition,” Helen murmured. “All ten of them.”
“That’s because it’s a church now. The Church of San Lorenzo degli Speziali,” Tom said, his attention once again on the guidebook.
“The Temple of the Divine Julius would have been located here,” he said, pointing to a platform and an altar, “and over there should be the Basilica of Aemilia.” He waved to a few columns, but the rest was buried under layers of dirt and debris.
“Well, I know what that is,” Will said, turning to face a rectangular brick building to the north. “The Curia Julia.”
When Helen aimed a blank expression at Diana, her sister-in-law said, “The Roman Senate. A rather tall structure given it didn’t have any upper stories.”
“Why such a high building?” Barbara asked, turning her query to Diana.
“It was a means to express its importance. Its grandeur, but I think it was also for the acoustics. With three hundred senators, it would have been necessary for them to clearly hear the speeches.” Her attention went to a number of standing columns to the south, and she broke away from the group, pulling her sketchbook from her satchel as she hurried off.
“Can we go inside?” Helen asked.
“It’s a church now,” Tom said, silently reading from the guidebook.
“This area out in front of the Senate was known as the Comitium, and this area out here would have been the Central Piazza,” he stated, glancing around the flat area that surrounded them.
“Apparently this was where they held gladiatorial competitions before the Colosseum was built, and there was a slave market here. Now it’s called the Campo Vaccino. ”
“What did you say?” Will asked.
Tom pointed to some livestock that were grazing off to the south. “We’re probably standing atop ruins, but...” He shrugged. “It’s literally named ‘cow field’,” he said with a shrug.
“It appears to be a good pasture land,” Randy remarked.
Will guffawed, his attention going to the Arch of Septimus Severus. “Ah, the arch celebrating the victory against the Parti,” he said.
“The Parti?” Barbara repeated.
“A sworn enemy of Rome. Septimus Severus and his sons, Caracalla and Geta, were the victors,” Will explained. “This arch marks the beginning of the rise of the Capitoline Hill and...” He pointed up to a ruin. “The Temple of Jove, where they would make a sacrifice to thank the gods.”
Randy was reading the inscription at the top of the arch, but he frowned suddenly. “There is no mention of Geta,” he said. “In fact, it appears his name was here but it’s been removed. Etched out.”
“That’s because Caracalla didn’t wish to share the imperial power when Septimus died,” David said, earning him a look of awe from Vittoria. “He ordered his brother’s name be removed from the arch as well as from all historical documents after he killed his brother.”
“No surprise there. Caracalla was one of the cruelest of all the emperors,” Will commented. He waved to the large building at the end of the Forum. “Now that building appears to be part ancient and part Middle Ages,” he said.
“The Tabularium,” Tom replied. “The base is made of peperino and travertine blocks, and it has vaulted corridors and arched windows. Above that is the Palazzo Senatorio where all the offices and records of the Senate were kept.” He read some more from the guidebook before adding, “Michelangelo remodeled it in the sixteenth century.”
The group continued on to the next visible ruin, the Temple of Saturn. Only the temple’s portico, entablature, and eight columns remained standing. Seated on a nearby marble block, Diana was continuing a sketch she had obviously started the last time she had been in the Forum.
Randy joined her, crossing his arms as he leaned against the block to watch her work. “Has anything changed?” he asked.
“The height of the weeds,” she replied, grinning. “I merely wished to draw the capitals. I didn’t have time to complete them when I was last here, nor did I have a chance to sketch the Temple of Castor and Pollux.”
David, Vittoria, and Armenia sauntered by, and when Vittoria overheard Diana, she said, “There are only the three columns left standing.” She pointed to the west. Beyond the rubble of the Julia Basilica, another ruined temple, the three Corinthian columns could be seen against the backdrop of the Colosseum.
“Castor and Pollux?” David said in confusion. “They were Greek gods. Wasn’t it against the Roman religious laws to have any temples of foreign gods inside the city walls?”
“Indeed,” Diana replied. “However, an exception was made because the temple was built after one of the first victories of the Romans over the Latins,” she explained.
The others in their group joined them, Tom still studying the guidebook and comparing what he was seeing against what was written.
“It says here the Romans were so desperate, they invoked the gods, and the twins of Jove, Castor and Pollux, appeared on white horses and led the Romans to victory. At the very same time, they both appeared in Rome to announce the battle had been won.”
“That temple was so important, it’s said the Senate met there,” Vittoria added. “It included the office of...” Here she seemed to struggle for a translation. “Weights and measures.”
“But most importantly, it was where fathers gave their children their official names,” Diana said. She stood from the block and announced her drawing complete. Randy offered his arm and they headed to the area below the three columns.
The rest of the party followed, their steps slowing when it was apparent there was only one more artifact visible.
The women were happy to take seats on some marble blocks to rest while Diana worked on her drawing.
Meanwhile, the men admired the remains of palazzos on Palantine Hill.
“We’ll have to tour those on another day,” Will commented to Tom.
“Agreed. I don’t know about you, but I am hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Will replied, giving his nephew a punch on the shoulder.
When Diana completed her sketch, the group gathered near the last remaining arch before reaching the Colosseum.
“The Arch of Constantine,” Will stated, his hand waving to the most imposing of all the triumphal arches in Rome.
Randy glanced up at the inscription. Although the original bronze letters were missing, the recesses left behind displayed the text so it was easy to read.
“To the Emperor Caesar Flavius Constantine the Greatest, pious and fortunate, the Senate and People of Rome, because by divine inspiration and his own greatness of spirit, with his army and just force of arms, on both the tyrant and all of his faction at the same time, he avenged the State. We dedicate this arch decorated with triumphal insignia.”
“Who was the tyrant?” David asked.
“Maxentius at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge. Around three-hundred AD,” Diana replied. “As you can see, it’s completely covered with scenes exalting Constantine and depicting the more glorious episodes of the Roman Empire.”
“Well, I think Rome has conquered me,” Barbara said wearily. “I apologize, but I do think I’ve seen enough for one day.”
Murmurs of agreement had Donald waving to the coachmen. The equipage joined them near the base of the Colosseum, and they climbed into the coaches and barouche to head for Villa Montblanc and a late luncheon.