CHAPTER II.THE CEMETERIES.

“The innocent boy Dionysius lieth here among the saints. Remember us in your holy prayers, the writer and the engraver.”

“Dear, happy child!” continued Pancratius, when he had perused the inscription: “add me the reader, to the writer and carver of thine epitaph, in thy holy prayers.”

“Amen,” answered the pious family.

But Pancratius, attracted by a certain husky sound in Diogenes’s voice, turned round, and saw the old man vigorously trying to cut off the end of a little wedge which he had driven into the top of the handle of his pick-axe, to keep it fast in the iron; but every moment baffled by some defect in his vision, which he removed by drawing the back of his brawny hand across his eyes. “What is the matter, my good old friend?” said the youth kindly. “Why does this epitaph of young Dionysius particularly affect you?”

“It does not of itself; but it reminds me of so much that is past, and suggests so much that may be about to come, that I feel almost faint to think of either.”

“What are your painful thoughts, Diogenes?”

“Why, do you see, it is all simple enough to take into one’s arms a good child like Dionysius, wrapped in his cerecloth, fragrant with spices, and lay him in his grave. His parents may weep, but his passage from sorrow to joy was easy and sweet. It is a very different thing, and requires a heart as hardened as mine by practice” (another stroke of the hand across the eyes) “to gather up hastily the torn flesh and broken limbs of such another youth, to wrap them hurriedly in their winding-sheet, then fold them into another sheet full of lime, instead of balsams, and shove them precipitately into their tomb.[75]How differently one would wish to treat a martyr’s body!”

AnArcosolium.

“True, Diogenes; but a brave officer prefers the plain soldier’s grave, on the field of battle, to the carved sarcophagus on the Via Appia. But are such scenes as you describe common, in times of persecution?”

“By no means uncommon, my good young master. I am sure a pious youth like you must have visited, on his anniversary, the tomb of Restitutus in the cemetery of Hermes.”

“Indeed I have, and often have I been almost jealous of his early martyrdom. Did you bury him?”

“Yes; and his parents had a beautiful tomb made, thearcosoliumof his crypt.[76]My father and I made it of six slabs of marble, hastily collected, and I engraved the inscription now beside it. I think I carved better than Majus there,” added the old man, now quite cheerful.

“That is not saying much for yourself, father,” rejoined his son, no less smiling; “but here is the copy of the inscription which you wrote,” he added, drawing out a parchment from a number of sheets.

“I remember it perfectly,” said Pancratius, glancing over it, and reading it as follows, correcting the errors in orthography, but not those in grammar, as he read:

AELIO FABIO RESTVTOFILIO PIISIMO PARI NTES FECERVNT QVIVIXITY ANNI. S XVIII MENSVII INIRENE.

“To Ælius Fabius Restitutus, their most pious son, his parents erected (this tomb). Who lived eighteen years and seven months. In peace.”

He continued: “What a glorious youth, to have confessed Christ at such an age!”

“No doubt,” replied the old man; “but I dare say you have always thought that his body reposes alone in his sepulchre. Any one would think so from the inscription.”

“Certainly I have always thought so. Is it otherwise?”

“Yes, noble Pancratius, he has a comrade younger than himself lying in the same bed. As we were closing the tomb of Restitutus, the body of a boy not more than twelve or thirteen years old was brought to us. Oh, I shall never forget the sight! He had been hung over a fire, and his head, trunk, and limbs nearly to the knees, were burnt to the very bone; and so disfigured was he that no feature could be recognized. Poor little fellow, what he must have suffered! But why should I pity him? Well, we were pressed for time, and we thought the youth of eighteen would not grudge room for his fellow-soldier of twelve, but would own him for a younger brother; so we laid him at Ælius Fabius’s feet. But we had no second phial of blood to put outside, that a second martyr might be known to lie there; for the fire had dried his blood up in his veins.”[77]

“What a noble boy! If the first was older, the second was younger than I. What say you, Diogenes, don’t you think it likely you may have to perform the same office for me one of these days?”

“Oh, no, I hope not,” said the old digger, with a return of his husky voice. “Do not, I entreat you, allude to such a possibility. Surely my own time must come sooner. How the old trees are spared, indeed, and the young plants cut down!”

“Come, come, my good friend, I won’t afflict you. But I have almost forgotten to deliver the message I came to bring. It is, that to-morrow at dawn you must come to my mother’s house, to arrange about preparing the cemeteries for our coming troubles. Our holy Pope will be there, with the priests of the titles, the regionary deacons, the notaries, whose number has been filled up, and you, the headfossor, that all may act in concert.”

“I will not fail, Pancratius,” replied Diogenes.

“And now,” added the youth, “I have a favor to ask you.”

“A favor from me?” asked the old man, surprised.

“Yes; you will have to begin your work immediately, I suppose. Now, often as I have visited, for devotion, our sacred cemeteries, I have never studied or examined them; and this I should like to do with you, who know them so well.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” answered Diogenes, somewhat flattered by the compliment, but still more pleased by this love for what he so much loved. “After I have received my instructions, I shall go at once to the cemetery of Callistus. Meet me out of the Porta Capena, half an hour before mid-day, and we will go on together.”

“But I shall not be alone,” continued Pancratius. “Two youths, recently baptized, desire much to become acquainted with our cemeteries, which they do not yet much know; and have asked me to initiate them there.”

“Any friends of yours will be always welcome. What are their names, that we may make no mistake?”

“One is Tiburtius, the son of Chromatius, the late prefect; the other is a young man named Torquatus.”

Severus started a little, and said: “Are you quite sure about him, Pancratius?”

Diogenes rebuked him, saying, “That he comes to us in Pancratius’s company is security enough.”

“I own,” interposed the youth, “that I do not know as much about him as about Tiburtius, who is really a gallant, noble fellow. Torquatus is, however, very anxious to obtainall information about our affairs, and seems in earnest. What makes you fear, Severus?”

“Only a trifle, indeed. But as I was going early to the cemetery this morning, I turned into the Baths of Antoninus.”[78]

“What!” interrupted Pancratius, laughing, “do you frequent such fashionable resorts?”

“Not exactly,” replied the honest artist; “but you are not perhaps aware that Cucumio thecapsarius[79]and his wife are Christians?”

“Is it possible; where shall we find them next?”

“Well, so it is; and moreover they are making a tomb for themselves in the cemetery of Callistus; and I had to show them Majus’s inscription for it.”

“Here it is,” said the latter, exhibiting it, as follows:

CVCVMIO ET VICTORIASE VIVOS FECERVNTCAPSARARIVS DE ANTONINIANAS.[80]

“Capital!” exclaimed Pancratius, amused at the blunders in the epitaph; “but we are forgetting Torquatus.”

“As I entered the building, then,” said Severus, “I was not a little surprised to find in one corner, at that early hour, this Torquatus in close conversation with the present prefect’s son, Corvinus, the pretended cripple, who thrust himself into Agnes’s house, you remember, when some charitable unknown person (God bless him!) gave large alms to the poor there. Not good company I thought, and at such an hour, for a Christian.”

“True, Severus,” returned Pancratius, blushing deeply; “but he is young as yet in the faith, and probably his old friends do not know of his change. We will hope for the best.”

The two young men offered to accompany Pancratius, who rose to leave, and see him safe through the poor and profligate neighborhood. He accepted their courtesy with pleasure, and bade the old excavator a hearty good night.

Our Saviour blessing the Bread, from a picture in the Catacombs.

M. ANTONIVS. RESTVTVS. FECIT. YPOCEVSIBI. ETSVIS. FIDENTIBVS. IN. DOMINO.[81]

IT seems to us as though we had neglected one, whose character and thoughts opened this little history, the pious Lucina. Her virtues were indeed of that quiet, unobtrusive nature, which affords little scope for appearing on a public scene, or taking part in general affairs. Her house, besides being, or rather containing, a title or parochial church, was now honored by being the residence of the supreme Pontiff. The approach of a violent persecution, in which the rulers of Christ’s spiritual kingdom were sure to be the first sought out, as the enemies of Cæsar,

A Staircase in the Catacombs.

The Martyr’s Widow.

rendered it necessary to transfer the residence of the Ruler of the Church, from his ordinary dwelling, to a securer asylum. For this purpose Lucina’s house was chosen; and it continued to be so occupied, to her great delight, in that and the following pontificate, when the wild beasts were ordered to be transferred to it, that Pope Marcellus might feed them at home. This loathsome punishment soon caused his death.

Lucina admitted, at forty,[82]into the order of deaconesses, found plenty of occupation in the duties of her office. The charge and supervision of the women in church, the care of the sick and poor of her own sex, the making, and keeping in order of sacred vestments and linen for the altar, and the instruction of children and female converts preparing for baptism, as well as the attending them at that sacred rite, belonged to the deaconesses, and gave sufficient occupation in addition to domestic offices. In the exercise of both these classes of duties, Lucina quietly passed her life. Its main object seemed to be attained. Her son had offered himself to God; and lived ready to shed his blood for the faith. To watch over him, and pray for him, were her delight, rather than an additional employment.

Early in the morning of the appointed day, the meeting mentioned in our last chapter took place. It will be sufficient to say, that in it full instructions were given for increasing the collection of alms, to be employed in enlarging the cemeteries and burying the dead, in succoring those driven to concealment by persecution, in nourishing prisoners, and obtaining access to them, and finally in ransoming or rescuing the bodies of martyrs. A notary was named for each region, to collect their acts and record interesting events. The cardinals, or titular priests, received instructions about the administration of sacraments, particularly of the Holy Eucharist, during the persecution; and to each was intrusted one cemetery ormore, in whose subterranean church he was to perform the sacred mysteries. The holy Pontiff chose for himself that of Callistus, which made Diogenes, its chief sexton, not a little, but innocently, proud.

A Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament.

The good old excavator seemed rather more cheery than otherwise, under the exciting forebodings of a coming persecution. No commanding officer of engineers could have given his orders more briskly, or more decidedly, for the defence of a fortified city committed to his skill to guard, than he issued his to the subordinate superintendents of the various cemeteries round Rome, who met him by appointment at his own house, to learn the instructions of the superior assembly. The shadow of the sun-dial at the Porta Capena was pointing to mid-day, as he issued from it with his sons, and found already waiting the three young men. They walked in parties of two along the Appian road; and at nearly two miles from the

Underground gallery in the Catacombs, from Th. Roller’s “Catacombes de Rome.”

gate,[83]they entered by various ways (slipping round different tombs that lined the road) into the same villa on the right-hand. Here they found all the requisites for a descent into the subterranean cemeteries, such as candles, lanterns, and the instruments for procuring light. Severus proposed that, as the guides and the strangers were in equal number, they should be divided into pairs; and in the division he allotted Torquatus to himself. What his reason was we may easily conjecture.

It would probably weary our readers to follow the whole conversation of the party. Diogenes not only answered all questions put to him, but, from time to time, gave intelligent little lectures, on such objects as he considered peculiarly attractive. But we believe we shall better interest and informourfriends, if we digest the whole matter of these into a more connected narrative. And besides, they will wish to know something of the subsequent history of those wonderful excavations, into which we have conducted our youthful pilgrims.

The history of the early Christian cemeteries, theCatacombsas they are commonly called, may be divided into three portions: from their beginning to the period of our narrative, or a few years later; from this term to the eighth century; then down to our own time, when we have reason to hope that a new epoch is being commenced.

We have generally avoided using the name of catacombs, because it might mislead our readers into an idea that this was either the original or a generic name of those early Christian crypts. It is not so, however: Rome might be said to be surrounded by a circumvallation of cemeteries, sixty or thereabouts in number, each of which was generally known by the name of some saint or saints, whose bodies reposed there. Thus we have the cemeteries of SS. Nereus and Achilleus,

THE TOMB OF SAINT CECILIA.On October 20, 1599, Cardinal Sfondrati had her tomb opened, and the body of the saint, in a state of perfect preservation, was found in the position here depicted. The sculptor, Stefano Maderno, made an exact copy of it, and his statue now ornaments her tomb.

THE TOMB OF SAINT CECILIA.

On October 20, 1599, Cardinal Sfondrati had her tomb opened, and the body of the saint, in a state of perfect preservation, was found in the position here depicted. The sculptor, Stefano Maderno, made an exact copy of it, and his statue now ornaments her tomb.

of St. Agnes, of St. Pancratius, of Prætextatus, Priscilla, Hermes, &c. Sometimes these cemeteries were known by the names of the places where they existed.[84]The cemetery of St. Sebastian, which was called sometimesCœmeterium ad Sanctam Cæciliam,[85]and by other names, had among them that ofAd Catacumbas.[86]The meaning of this word is completely unknown; though it may be attributed to the circumstance of the relics of SS. Peter and Paul having been for a time buried there, in a crypt still existing near the cemetery. This term became the name of that particular cemetery, then was generalized, till we familiarly call the whole system of these underground excavations—the Catacombs.

Their origin was, in the last century, a subject of controversy. Following two or three vague and equivocal passages, some learned writers pronounced the catacombs to have been originally heathen excavations, made to extract sand for the building of the city. These sand-pits were calledarenaria, and so occasionally are the Christian cemeteries. But a more scientific and minute examination, particularly made by the accurate F. Marchi, has completely confuted this theory. The entrance to the catacombs was often, as can yet be seen, from these sand-pits, which are themselves under ground, and no doubt were a convenient cover for the cemetery; but several circumstances prove that they were never used for Christian burial, nor converted into Christian cemeteries.

The man who wishes to get the sand out of the ground will keep his excavation as near as may be to the surface; will have it of easiest possible access, for drawing out materials; and will make it as ample as is consistent with the safety of the roof, and the supply of what he is seeking. Andall this we find in thearenariastill abounding round Rome. But the catacombs are constructed on principles exactly contrary to all these.

The catacomb dives at once, generally by a steep flight of steps, below the stratum of loose and friable sand,[87]into that where it is indurated to the hardness of a tender, but consistent rock; on the surface of which every stroke of the pickaxe is yet distinctly traceable. When you have reached this depth you are in the first story of the cemetery, for you descend again by stairs to the second and third below, all constructed on the same principle.

A catacomb may be divided into three parts, its passages or streets, its chambers or squares, and its churches. The passages are long, narrow galleries, cut with tolerable regularity, so that the roof and floor are at right angles with the sides, often so narrow as scarcely to allow two persons to go abreast. They sometimes run quite straight to a great length; but they are crossed by others, and these again by others, so as to form a complete labyrinth, or net-work, of subterranean corridors. To be lost among them would easily be fatal.

But these passages are not constructed, as the name would imply, merely to lead to something else. They are themselves the catacomb or cemetery. Their walls, as well as the sides of the staircases, are honeycombed with graves, that is, with rows of excavations, large and small, of sufficient length to admit a human body, from a child to a full-grown man, laid with its side to the gallery. Sometimes there are as many as fourteen, sometimes as few as three or four, of these rows, one above the other. They are evidently so made to measure, that it is probable the body was lying by the side of the grave, while this was being dug.

When the corpse, wrapped up, as we heard from Diogenes, was laid in its narrow cell, the front was hermetically closed either by a marble slab, or more frequently by several broad tiles, put edgeways in a groove or mortice, cut for them in the rock, and cemented all round. The inscription was cut upon the marble, or scratched in the wet mortar. Thousands of the former sort have been collected, and may be seen in museums and churches; many of the latter have been copied and published; but by far the greater number of tombs are anonymous, and have no record upon them. And now the reader may reasonably ask, through what period does the interment in the catacombs range, and how are its limits determined. We will try to content him, as briefly as possible.

Aloculus, closed.

There is no evidence of the Christians having ever buried any where, anteriorily to the construction of catacombs. Two principles as old as Christianity regulate this mode of burial. The first is, the manner of Christ’s entombment. He was laid in a grave in a cavern, wrapped up in linen, embalmed with spices; and a stone, sealed up, closed His sepulchre.As St. Paul so often proposes Him for the model of our resurrection, and speaks of our being buried with Him in baptism, it was natural for His disciples to wish to be buried after His example, so as to be ready to rise with Him.

This lying in wait for resurrection was the second thought that guided the formation of these cemeteries. Every expression connected with them alluded to the rising again. The word toburyis unknown in Christian inscriptions. “Depositedin peace,” “thedepositionof ——,” are the expressions used: that is, the dead are but left there for a time, till called for again, as a pledge, or precious thing, intrusted to faithful, but temporary, keeping. The very name of cemetery suggests that it is only a place where many lie, as in a dormitory, slumbering for a while; till dawn come, and the trumpet’s sound awake them. Hence the grave is only called “the place,” or more technically, “the small home,”[88]of the dead in Christ.

These two ideas, which are combined in the planning of the catacombs, were not later insertions into the Christian system, but must have been more vivid in its earlier times. They inspired abhorrence of the pagan custom of burning the dead; nor have we a hint that this mode was, at any time, adopted by Christians.

But ample proof is to be found in the catacombs themselves, of their early origin. The style of paintings, yet remaining, belongs to a period of still flourishing art. Their symbols, and the symbolical taste itself, are characteristic of a very ancient period. For this peculiar taste declined, as time went on. Although inscriptions with dates are rare, yet out of ten thousand collected, and about to be published, by the learned and sagacious Cavalier De Rossi, about three hundred are found bearing consular dates, through every period, from the early emperors to the middle of the fourth

A COLUMBARIUM,Or underground sepulchre in which the Romans deposited the urns containing the ashes of the dead.

A COLUMBARIUM,

Or underground sepulchre in which the Romans deposited the urns containing the ashes of the dead.

century (A.D.350). Another curious and interesting custom furnishes us with dates on tombs. At the closing of the grave, the relations or friends, to mark it, would press into its wet plaster, and leave there a coin, a cameo, or engraved gem, sometimes even a shell or pebble; probably that they might find the sepulchre again, especially where no inscription was left. Many of these objects continue to be found, many have been long collected. But it is not uncommon, where the coin, or, to speak scientifically, the medal, has fallen from its place, to find a mould of it left, distinct and clear in the cement, which equally gives its date. This is sometimes of Domitian, or other early emperors.

Aloculus, open.

It may be asked, wherefore this anxiety to rediscover with certainty the tomb? Besides motives of natural piety, there is one constantly recorded on sepulchral inscriptions. In England, if want of space prevented the full date of a person’s death being given, we should prefer chronicling the year, to the day of the month, when it occurred. It is more historical.No one cares about remembering the day on which a person died, without the year; but the year without the day, is an important recollection. Yet while so few ancient Christian inscriptions supply the year of people’s deaths, thousands give us the very day of it, on which they died, whether in the hopefulness of believers, or in the assurance of martyrs. This is easily explained. Of both classes annual commemoration had to be made, on the very day of their departure; and accurate knowledge of this was necessary. Therefore it alone was recorded.

In a cemetery close to the one in which we have left our three youths, with Diogenes and his sons,[89]were lately found inscriptions mingled together, belonging to both orders of the dead. One in Greek, after mentioning the “Deposition of Augenda on the 13th day before the Calends, or 1st of June,” adds this simple address:

ΖΗCΑΙC ENKῶ KAIEPωTA ΥΠΕΡΗΜωΝ

“Live in the Lord, and pray for us.”

Another fragment is as follows:

.....N. IVN-......IVIBAS-IN PACE ET PETEPRO NOBIS

“Nones of June ... Live in peace, and pray for us.”

This is a third:

VICTORIA. REFRIGERER [ET]ISSPIRITVS. TVS IN BONO

“Victoria, be refreshed, and may thy spirit be in enjoyment” (good).

This last reminds us of a most peculiar inscription found scratched in the mortar beside a grave in the cemetery of Prætextatus, not many yards from that of Callistus. It is remarkable, first, for being in Latin written with Greek letters; then, for containing a testimony of the Divinity of our Lord; lastly, for expressing a prayer for the refreshment of the departed. We fill up the portions of words wanting, from the falling out of part of the plaster.

“To the well-deserving sister Bon ... The eighth day before the calends of Nov. Christ God Almighty refresh thy spirit in Christ.”

In spite of this digression on prayers inscribed over tombs, the reader will not, we trust, have forgotten, that we were establishing the fact, that the Christian cemeteries of Rome owe their origin to the earliest ages. We have now to state down to what period they were used. After peace was restored to the Church, the devotion of Christians prompted them to desire burial near the martyrs, and holy people of an earlier age. But, generally speaking, they were satisfied to lie under the pavement. Hence the sepulchral stones which are often found in the rubbish of the catacombs, and sometimes in their places, bearing consular dates of the fourth century, are thicker, larger, better carved, and in a less simple style, than those of an earlier period, placed upon the walls. But before the end of that century, these monuments become rarer; and interment in the catacombs ceased in the following, at latest. Pope Damasus, who died in 384, reverentlyshrunk, as he tells us, in his own epitaph, from intruding into the company of the saints.

A Lamb with a Milk Pail, emblematic of the Blessed Eucharist, found in the Catacombs.

Restitutus, therefore, whose sepulchral tablet we gave for a title to our chapter, may well be considered as speaking in the name of the early Christians, and claiming as their own exclusive work and property, the thousand miles of subterranean city, with their six millions of slumbering inhabitants, who trust in the Lord, and await His resurrection.[90]

DIOGENES lived during the first period in the history of the cemeteries, though near its close. Could he have looked into their future fate, he would have seen, near at hand, an epoch that would have gladdened his heart, to be followed by one that would have deeply afflicted him. Although, therefore, the matter of this chapter have no direct bearing upon our narrative, it will serve essentially to connect it with the present topography of its scene.

When peace and liberty were restored to the Church, these cemeteries became places of devotion, and of great resort. Each of them was associated with the name of one, or the names of several, of the more eminent martyrs buried in it; and, on their anniversaries, crowds of citizens and of pilgrims thronged to their tombs, where the Divine mysteries were offered up, and the homily delivered in their praise. Hence began to be compiled the first martyrologies, or calendars of martyrs’ days, which told the faithful whither to go. “At Rome, on the Salarian, or the Appian, or the Ardeatine way,” such are the indications almost daily read in the Roman martyrology, now swelled out, by the additions of later ages.[91]

An ordinary reader of the book hardly knows the importance of these indications; for they have served to verify several otherwise dubious cemeteries. Another class of valuable writers also comes to our aid; but before mentioning them, we will glance at the changes which this devotion produced in the cemeteries. First, commodious entrances, with easy staircases were made; then walls were built to support the crumbling galleries; and, from time to time, funnel-shaped apertures in the vaults were opened, to admit light and air. Finally, basilicas or churches were erected over their entrances, generally leading immediately to the principal tomb, then called theconfessionof the church. The pilgrim, thus, on arriving at the holy city, visited each of these churches, a custom yet practised; descended below, and without having to grope his way about, went direct, by well-constructed passages, to the principal martyr’s shrine, and so on to others, perhaps equally objects of reverence and devotion.

During this period, no tomb was allowed to be opened, no body to be extracted. Through apertures made into the grave, handkerchiefs or scarfs, calledbrandea, were introduced, to touch the martyr’s relics; and these were carried to distant countries, to be held in equal reverence. No wonderthat St. Ambrose, St. Gaudentius, and other bishops, should have found it so difficult to obtain bodies, or large relics of martyrs for their churches. Another sort of relics consisted of what was called familiarly the oil of a martyr, that is, the oil, often mixed with balsam, which burned in a lamp beside his tomb. Often a round stone pillar, three feet or so in height, and scooped out at the top, stands beside a monument; probably to hold the lamp, or serve for the distribution of its contents. St. Gregory the Great wrote to Queen Theodelinda, that he sent her a collection of the oils of the popes who were martyrs. The list which accompanied them was copied by Mabillon in the treasury of Monza, and republished by Ruinart.[92]It exists there yet, together with the very phials containing them, sealed up in metal tubes.

This jealousy of disturbing the saints, is displayed most beautifully in an incident, related by St. Gregory of Tours. Among the martyrs most honored in the ancient Roman Church were Sts. Chrysanthus and Daria. Their tombs became so celebrated for cures, that their fellow-Christians built (that is excavated) over them a chamber, with a vault of beautiful workmanship, where crowds of worshippers assembled. This was discovered by the heathens, and the emperor closed them in, walled up the entrance, and from above, probably through theluminare, or ventilating shaft, showered down earth and stones, and buried the congregation alive, as the two holy martyrs had been before them. The place was unknown at the peace of the Church, till discovered by Divine manifestation. But instead of being permitted to enter again into this hallowed spot, pilgrims were merely allowed to look at it, through a window opened in the wall, so as to see, not only the tombs of the martyrs, but also the bodies of those who had been buried alive at their shrines. And as the cruel massacre had taken place while preparations were beingmade for oblation of the holy Eucharist, there were still to be seen lying about, the silver cruets in which the wine was brought for that spotless sacrifice.[93]

It is clear that pilgrims resorting to Rome would want a hand-book to the cemeteries, that they might know what they had to visit. It is likewise but natural that, on their return home, they may have sought to edify their less fortunate neighbors, by giving an account of what they had seen. Accordingly there exists, no less fortunately for us than for their untravelled neighbors, several records of this character. The first place, among these, is held by catalogues compiled in the fourth century; one, of the places of sepulture of Roman pontiffs, the other of martyrs.[94]After these come three distinct guides to the catacombs; the more interesting because they take different rounds, yet agree marvellously in their account.

To show the value of these documents, and describe the changes which took place in the catacombs during the second period of their history, we will give a brief account of one discovery, in the cemetery where we have left our little party. Among the rubbish near the entrance of a catacomb, the name of which was yet doubtful, and which had been taken for that of Prætextatus, was found a fragment of a slab of marble which had been broken across ‘obliquely, from left to right, with the following letters:

[95]

The young Cavalier de Rossi at once declared that this was part of the sepulchral inscription of the holy Pope Cornelius; that probably his tomb would be found below, in a distinguished form; and that as all the itineraries above mentioned concurred in placing it in the cemetery of Callistus, this, and not the one at St. Sebastian’s, a few hundred yards off, must claim the honor of that name. He went further, and foretold that as these works pronounced St. Cyprian to be buried near Cornelius, there would be found something at the tomb which would account for that idea, for it was known that his body rested in Africa. It was not long before every prediction was verified. The great staircase discovered[96]was found to lead at once to a wider space, carefully secured by brick-work of the time of peace, and provided with light and air from above. On the left was a tomb, cut like others in the rock, without any exterior arch over it. It was, however, large and ample; and except one, very high above it, there were no other graves below, or over, or at the sides. The remaining portion of the slab was found within it; the first piece was brought from the Kircherian Museum, where it had been deposited, and exactly fitted to it; and both covered the tomb, thus:

[97]

Below, reaching from the lower edge of this stone to the ground was a marble slab covered with an inscription, of which only the left-hand end remains, the rest being broken off and lost. Above the tomb was another slab let into the sand-stone, of which the right-hand end exists, and a few more fragments have been recovered in the rubbish; not enough to make out the lines, but sufficient to show it was an inscription in verse, by Pope Damasus. How is this authorship traceable? Very easily. Not only do we know that this holy pope, already mentioned, took pleasure in putting verses, which he loved to write, on the tombs of martyrs,[98]but the number of inscriptions of his yet extant exhibit a particular and very elegant form of letters, known among antiquarians by the name of “Damasian.” The fragments of this marble bear portions of verses, in this character.

Saint Cornelius and Saint Cyprian, from De Rossi’s “Roma Sotteranea.”

To proceed: on the wall, right of the tomb, and on the same plane, were painted two full-length figures in sacerdotal garments, with glories round their heads, evidently of Byzantine work of the seventh century. Down the wall, by the left side of each, letter below letter, were their names; some letters were effaced, which we supply in italics as follow:

SI✠ CORNELᴵP̅P̅SCI ✠ PRIᴬNᴵ¹[99]

We here see how a foreigner, reading these two inscriptions, with the portraits, and knowing that the Church commemorates the two martyrs on the same day, might easily be led to suppose that they were here deposited together. Finally at the right hand of the tomb stands a truncated column, about three feet high, concave at the top, as before described; and as a confirmation of the use to which we said it might be put, St. Gregory has, in his list of oils sent to the Lombard Queen, “Oleum S. Cornelii,” the oil of St. Cornelius.

We see, then, how, during the second period, new ornaments, as well as greater conveniences, were added to the primitively simple forms of the cemeteries. But we must not, on that account, imagine that we are in any danger of mistaking these later embellishments for the productions of the early ages. The difference is so immense that we might as easily blunder by taking a Rubens for a Beato Angelico, as by considering a Byzantine figure to be a production of the two first centuries.

We come now to the third period of these holy cemeteries, the sad one of their desolation. When the Lombards, and later the Saracens, began to devastate the neighborhood of Rome, and the catacombs were exposed to desecration, the popes extracted the bodies of the most illustrious martyrs, and placed them in the basilicas of the city. This went on till the eighth or ninth century; when we still read of repairs made in the cemeteries by the sovereign pontiffs. The catacombs ceased to be so much places of devotion; and the churches, which stood over their entrances, were destroyed, or fell to decay. Only those remained which were fortified, and could be defended. Such are the extramural basilicas of St. Paul on the Ostian way, of St. Sebastian on the Appian, St. Laurence on the Tiburtine, or in the Ager Veranus, St. Agnes on the Nomentan road, St. Pancratius on the Aurelian, and, greatest of all, St. Peter’s on the Vatican. The first and last had separateburghsor cities round them; and the traveller can still trace remains of strong walls round some of the others.

Strange it is, however, that the young antiquarian, whom we have frequently named with honor, should have re-discovered two of the basilicas over the entrance to the cemetery of Callistus, almost entire; the one being a stable and bakehouse, the other a wine-store. One is, most probably, that built by Pope Damasus, so often mentioned. The earth washed down, through air-holes, the spoliation practised during ages, by persons entering from vineyards through unguarded entrances, the mere wasting action of time and weather, have left us but a wreck of the ancient catacombs. Still there is much to be thankful for. Enough remains to verify the records left us in better times, and these serve to guide us to the reconstruction of our ruins. The present Pontiff[100]has done more in a few years for these sacred places,which he has appointed have done wonders. With very limited means, they are going systematically to work, finishing as they advance. Nothing is taken from the spot where it is found; but every thing is restored, as far as possible, to its original state. Accurate tracings are made of all the paintings, and plans of every part explored. To secure these good results, the Pope has, from his own resources, bought vineyards and fields, especially at Tor Marancia, where the cemetery of SS. Nereus and Achilleus is situated; and we believe also over that of Callistus. The French emperor too has sent to Rome, artists, who have produced a most magnificent work, perhaps somewhat overdone, upon the catacombs: a truly imperial undertaking.

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