Underneath Rome

What to do when it’s raining in Rome?  Head underground.

The streets have been awash the last few days – it hasn’t rained all that heavily, but it has rained consistently, which means any time spent walking in the open results in sodden shoes, wet clothes and minimum photo opportunities.  I mean, who wants to take photos from under a dripping umbrella?

Looking towards the Palazzo Farnese, raining

Wet weather is a great opportunity to explore the Rome that lies underneath the surface.  It’s certainly drier, and at this time of the year there’s also the likelihood of having any underground site to oneself.  At least, that’s been my experience over the last few days.

A little further along from my apartment in Piazza San Egidio is the Church of San Crisogono, built in the 4^th century and, as is usual here in Rome, built again – over the existing structure – in the 12^th century.  As Christianity in the 4^th century was off to a shaky start under the Emperor Constantine, churches consecrated at that time began as private houses and were converted to public places of worship.  So, through a heavy door (that was shut behind me as I descended - quite disconcerting) it is possible to descend a spiral staircase to find the rounded form of the 4^th century apse, with a shrine to the martyr Saint Crysogonus in the centre.  

San Crisogono apse

As I’m finding with all multi-level churches, the lower structures can be quite difficult to distinguish, as foundations to support the upper churches have altered the structure and symmetry of the earlier buildings.  It was tricky to explore the lower church of San Crisogono and make out where the church ended and where the remains of the private houses began.  Here and there sarcophagi were dotted about –from an intricate marble sarcophagus from the 2^nd century with maritime themes, to some smaller terracotta sarcophagi below frescoes, now heavily faded and almost undiscernible, from the 6^th century.

San Crisogono sarcophagus

I have to say, it was very spooky down in the depths of San Crisogono.  The structure twisted and turned, and I had this horrible feeling I’d get lost in the maze and be unable to find my way out.  Thankfully, in the murk and gloom I did relocate the iron stair and made my way up into the modern church without any grief.  And very pleasant it was, too, to stand in the middle aisle of the church and hear the roar of traffic, and see daylight outside.

A little further along, and escaping today’s rain, I made my way over to San Nicola in Carcere, another church which hides ancient structures underneath.  In this case, however, those structures are three Roman pagan temples from the Republican era:  the earliest being the Temple of Janus Bifrons from 260 B.C.  Under the altar, marble steps lead to a vaulted crypt, and sharply to the left, a narrow arch leads to the first of the three temples, with walls of solid tufa blocks.   I’m particularly fascinated by legends associated with the middle temple, to the mother queen Juno Sospita, in which annual offerings were made by virgins to the holy snakes bred in a cave by her shrine.  Any refusal of the food by the serpents was considered a bad omen and required the girl’s sacrifice.  What an incentive to make those offerings palatable..

San Nicola middle Temple

The exterior of San Nicola is surprising, too, in that it was constructed around the ruins of a Roman forum, with columns from ancient sites incorporated into the façade of the church.

San Nicola exterior with Forum columns