Bryce & Damon in Europe
by Pertinax Carrus
Chapter 18: Rome, Part I
Arriving in Rome
It is about 115 miles from Assisi to Rome, mostly in a southern direction, and some of the way on twisting, rural roads. Consequently, the guys took turns, with Damon driving the first shift, and Bryce the second, which would take them into the eternal city and among something truly scary – Roman traffic. It’s at least as bad as Paris. They were booked into the Hotel Cicerone, located, logically enough, on the Via Cicerone at number 55. This was on the same side of the Tiber River as the Vatican complex, with St. Peter’s Basilica, and so within easy walking distance of at least some of the attractions which they intended to take in during their visit. They arrived on Saturday, July 10, and, except for an excursion to the Naples area the coming Tuesday through Thursday, would stay in Rome, and in the Hotel Cicerone, until it was time to catch their flight back home on July 21.
The hotel was well located for tourists, and offered an in-house fitness center. Internet access was available only in designed areas, and for an added cost. Another negative was that parking, while available, was a little distance away, and, of course, for an added charge. One thing which appealed to the guys was that the entire facility was non-smoking, and, a consideration in July, it was air conditioned. While we tend to expect such things in the United States, they are not always available elsewhere.
The Casa Santa Maria
After checking in, the first order of business was to make contact with a young priest who was an acquaintance of the Winslows from Lincoln, carrying on graduate studies in Rome at the North American College. This priest, Father Gilbert Long, promised to have tickets for several events for the visitors. Although it was a little distance, Bryce and Damon decided to walk rather than encounter Roman traffic again. In fact, after several near misses on the way to the hotel, they decided that, after the trip to the Naples area, they would turn in the car, and depend on walking, public transportation, or taxis for their remaining Roman experiences.
The original facility of the North American College, presented by Pope Pius IX, was a former convent now called the Casa Santa Maria, located on the Via dell’ Umilitá, between the Via del Corso, the main street of Rome, and the Palazzo del Quirinale (Quirinal Palace), the residence of the President of the Republic. To get there from their hotel, Bryce and Damon walked south to the Piazza Cavour, then west, crossing the Tiber on the Ponte Cavour. Damon remarked that he remembered, from Dr. Dickinson’s lectures in his history survey class, that Cavour was the Prime Minister at the time of the unification of Italy in the middle of the nineteenth century.
“That’s right,” Bryce concurred. “That’s why so many things are named for him all over Italy. You might remember that our hotel in Florence was called the Grand Hotel Cavour.”
“But the one where we are now is named for someone called Chicheroney. Who’s he?” Damon asked, attempting to reproduce the sounds he heard earlier as they were checking in.
Bryce replied, “Cicerone is the Italian version of the name we call Cicero. You remember him from ancient Rome. First semester.”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t make the connection,” Damon said. “I guess we’ll run into a lot of historical names in a place which has been around for about twenty-five hundred years.”
“If the ancient Roman historians are correct, and Rome was founded in 753 B.C., then it’s 2,763 years,” Bryce responded.
“Yeah. I always get mixed up because those ancient people counted backwards,” Damon chuckled, referring to a standing joke between them about B.C. and A.D. dates.
After crossing the Tiber, which the Romans call Tevere, they encountered the Ars Pacis and the Mausoleum of Augustus, but they did not have time to stop there at this time. They would come back later. It was only a short distance to the Via del Corso, and then down that major thoroughfare to the Via dell’ Umilitá. There, they asked to see Father Long, and were shown into a waiting area. It was several minutes before their contact showed up. He was a priest about thirty years old, sent by his bishop for graduate study in Rome. Back in Lincoln, he had been an assistant at the Church of St. Therese of Lisieux, the home parish of the Winslow family. Bryce remembered him as much more open to discussion and flexible than the irascible pastor, Father Flannigan. Still, not knowing him all that well, when he appeared Bryce introduced Damon as simply his friend from school.
“Glad to see you guys,” Father Long said. “Did you just arrive in Rome?”
“Yes, Father. You’re our first visit after checking into the hotel,” Bryce replied.
“How flattering,” the priest joked. “Where are you staying?”
“The Hotel Cicerone, over across the Tiber,” Bryce said.
“A lot of people seem to stay there. I think it’s a favorite with the travel agents. I’ve heard that it’s not as good as it once was, so let me know before you leave, so I can advise other visitors,” Father Long requested.
“Okay, we’ll be the guinea pigs,” Bryce chuckled.
“Well, as much as I’d like to think you came simply for the joy of seeing me again, I know you are expecting some tickets for special events at the Vatican. There’s the papal blessing in St. Peter’s Square tomorrow, no ticket needed for that. You had requested tickets for a general audience with the pope, but general audiences are only on Wednesdays, and according to the itinerary your mother sent me, you will be in Naples next Wednesday, and on your flight home the following one, so that did not work out. Then there are your tickets to the Scavi. That’s the Italian for ‘excavations,’ Damon, and refers to the ancient ruins under the Basilica of St. Peter, including the tomb of St. Peter himself. And, there are also the tickets you requested for a tour of the Vatican Museum and Gardens, for which you’ll need a proper picture ID and your student identification card when you enter. Um, I should also mention that shorts are not acceptable dress for these events. Some folks get all bent out of shape by that, but it’s a matter of respect and following local customs. Pope Benedict will not come in from his summer residence at Castel Gandolfo on Sunday, but there is a loud speaker and large screen in the square,” they were informed, as the priest handed Bryce an envelope containing the tickets.
“Thanks, Father. Are jeans acceptable?” Bryce asked.
“Oh, yes. Half or more of the young people there will be wearing jeans, I expect,” Father Long assured him.
“Here’s the cash for the tickets to the Scavi and the Museum. If I remember correctly, they are twelve Euros each for the Scavi and eight Euros for the Museum, right?” Bryce said, opening his wallet.
“That’s right. Speaking of that, you will notice that, while I got the Museum tickets for the day your requested, next Friday, I could not get tickets for the Scavi tour until the next week. They only allow about twelve to fifteen visitors at a time, led by a guide who speaks the language of the visitors,” Father Long half apologized.
“Oh, that’s fine,” Bryce said, hastily glancing at the date on the tickets. “Good, Monday the nineteenth for the Scavi. We’ll be back from Naples by then.”
“Yes, as I said, your mother did send me your itinerary, so I knew to avoid the thirteenth through fifteenth,” the priest said.
“Thanks again. I’m sorry things did not work out for a general audience. Our itinerary changed several times between the first and final versions. I hope to see you again during our stay in Rome. Would you be free for dinner some evening?” Bryce offered.
“I’d like that very much,” he responded.
“Well then, how about this coming Monday?” Bryce suggested.
“That sounds good. You do know that people eat later here than at home. It will be at least seven o’clock before I can get away,” Father Long explained.
“That’s okay. We’re adaptable,” Bryce replied, and so it was decided.
As they left, Damon said to Bryce, “I kind of like your Father Long. He seems a lot more approachable than some of the others we’ve encountered.”
“Yeah, I like him, too. But I don’t know how he would react to finding out that we’re partners. When we’re with him, you’re just my friend from school.”
“Bleh!” Damon responded, sticking out his tongue at Bryce. “What next?”
“Well, I want to visit each of the seven major basilicas, and three of them are some distance outside the core city. Since we decided to get rid of the car once we get back from Naples, we ought to take in those before we go, so how about doing one of them this afternoon?” Bryce proposed.
“Whatever you say. You’ve been here before, and I haven’t, so I’m at your disposal,” Damon said. Then, considering that open authorization, he quickly added, “within reason.”
Bryce chuckled and hugged his boyfriend. “I’ll try not to bore you with churches. We’ll have a nice mix of ancient, medieval, and modern Rome.”
The Trevi Fountain
They guys retraced their steps, but not quite. Only a short distance from the Casa Santa Maria is the Trevi Fountain. Consequently, Bryce led Damon on a slightly different route than the one they came on. When they emerged on the Piazza di Trevi, Damon was impressed.
“That’s some cool fountain,” he remarked.
“Do you have any coins?” Bryce asked.
“Some. Why?”
“Because there’s a tradition that if you toss a coin over your shoulder into the fountain, you’re sure to come back to Rome some day.” Damon looked askance at Bryce. “Well, it worked for me,” Bryce defended the custom.
“Okay. Here I go, throwing away good money,” Damon joked.
He stood with his back to the fountain, then tossed a Euro coin into the waters. He could not distinguish his splash from that of several others doing the same thing at about the same time, but Bryce assured him it went in, so he could count on returning some day.
A man standing nearby asked, “Are you Americans?”
“Yes,” Bryce said. “We just arrived in Rome.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay in our city,” the man said. “Do you know about this fountain?”
“Only what the inscription up on top says, and the tradition about the coin tossing,” Bryce replied.
“Well, let me tell you something about it,” their interlocutor said. “This is where the ancient Roman aqueduct called Aqua Virgo terminated. That translates as the virgin waters. You see the scenes above the statues on the right and left? They show the story from the ancient Romans, that said the source of fresh water was discovered with the help of a virgin. It’s about the only virgin in Rome who is not the Blessed Mother of God. The aqueduct was about twenty-two kilometers long, and supplied fresh water to the Romans for over four hundred years, until the barbarians, the Goths, broke the connections. That was in the year 410. Later, in the Renaissance, the popes tried to restore many ancient things. Pope Nicholas restored this aqueduct, and it was a good thing, as for a thousand years we Romans had to get our water from the Tevere, what you call the Tiber, and it is not very sanitary.”
“But the inscription says it was Pope Clement XII. That’s after the Renaissance,” Bryce protested.
“Ah yes, but you did not allow me to finish the story,” their Roman guide replied. “It is true, this fountain does not date to the time of Pope Nicholas in the fifteenth century. When the aqueduct was restored in his day, it emptied into a simple basin here where three roads come together,” he said, pointing in three directions, although there seemed to be more than three streets opening onto the piazza to Bryce. “Tre vie, you see, three roads. That’s how the place got its name. Now, it was much later, in the eighteenth century, when this wonderful fountain was constructed, to take the place of the simple basin of earlier times. That was at the order of Pope Clement, as you see on the inscription. You see Oceanus, the allegorical god of waters, providing fresh water in the center, and on either side you see statues representing abundance and health. The fountain restored health to the Romans, who no longer had to depend on the waters of the Tiber,” the man declared in triumph.
“A wonderful story, Signore. Now we can appreciate it much more, knowing the background.”
“There is always much history in Rome,” their guide insisted.
“Now, we must be on our way. Thank you for the information, but we must get out to St. Paul outside the Walls before it gets too late,” Bryce said, moving them away from the loquacious Roman. “Thank you very much. Arrivederci.”
“Arrivederci, and enjoy our beautiful city,” he replied.
As they made their way back to the Via del Corso, Damon asked, “Are all Romans agents of the local chamber of commerce?”
Bryce laughed. “Our friend is not all that unusual. In my experience, most Romans are very proud of their city and its history. Not all are as insistent on telling you about it, though.”
“That’s good. Otherwise, we’d never get to see much, as we’d be constantly stopped every place we went,” Damon said.
“We have plenty of time to take in the major highlights,” Bryce assured him.
St. Paul outside the Walls
After recovering their car, Bryce drove them to the Basilica of San Paolo fuori le Mura, or St. Paul outside the Walls. The walls in question are those of the Roman Emperor Aurelian, who lived in the third century and fortified the city when unrest and invasions by barbarians made such protections necessary. The basilica lies on the Ostian Way, or the ancient road from Rome to the port of Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber. According to the accounts of the ancient writers, the Apostle Paul was martyred about two miles from here by beheading, and his body was recovered and buried here on property owned by a Christian woman named Lucina. A memorial called a tropaeum was set up to mark the spot as a place of veneration. Around the year 200, the Presbyter Gaius is quoted as saying, “I can point out the tropaia of the Apostles,” referring to Sts. Peter and Paul, “for if you go to the Vatican or the Ostian Way, you will find the tropaia of those who founded this church,” meaning the local Roman church. With the Emperor Constantine early in the fourth century, the first church building was erected over the tomb of the Apostle Paul. It was later expanded considerably, and was a major place of pilgrimage. In 1823 a fire broke out through the negligence of a workman, which almost completely destroyed the ancient basilica. The present structure is, therefore, a reconstruction, following the ancient model as closely as possible.
When they arrived, they found it possible to park along the street and walk a short distance to the entrance to the church grounds. There they encountered quite a sight.
“Wow!” Damon exclaimed, “that’s some statue!”
He referred to the statue of St. Paul in the courtyard, which was huge, showing the Apostle carrying a book in his left hand, representing his writings, many of the epistles which make up the New Testament, but in his right a sword, representing his manner of death. He is a powerful bearded figure, with his head covered in the Jewish fashion for prayer.
“St. Paul is undoubtedly one of the giants of the Church. Even though I believe he was too influenced by Stoic philosophy when it comes to sexual matters, there is no denying his seminal influence on the development of Christianity. In addition to being the great missionary to the Gentiles, he was the first real theologian. And no matter what anyone else says, he’s ours,” Bryce proclaimed. “He came here. He died here. He’s one of us.”
“When you say ‘us’ I’m assuming you mean Catholics,” Damon commented.
“Right! Roman Catholics! St. Paul said, ‘cives Romanus sum’ when he appealed to Caesar, leading to his arrival in Rome. Well, he meant it in a different sense, as he was a citizen of the Roman empire, which carried some clout with it. But in a different but very real sense, I too, can say “cives Romanus sum.’ I am a Roman, and all this belongs to me. Everything we have seen since we landed in Lisbon more than a month ago belongs to me. I had my doubts as to whether I could belong here for a while, but no longer,” Bryce stated emphatically.
“Just calm down,” Damon counseled. “Let’s go inside.”
The interior of St. Paul’s was a classical basilica, recreated in the image of that which went up in flames in 1823. As they walked towards the apse which contained the altar, Damon asked about the images in the circles lining the walls of the nave above the arches leading to the side aisles.
“Those are the popes. Beginning with St. Peter, there are 266 of them including Benedict XVI, the present incumbent of the chair of St. Peter. There was a prophecy, I think attributed to the Irish mystic St. Malachy, that when all the space was filled, the world would come to an end with the second coming of Christ. I’m afraid they cheated here. When the space was filled, they opened a branch in a side chapel,” Bryce said with a chuckle.
“I don’t understand you, Bryce,” Damon confessed. “You are so impassioned, so dedicated about some things, like when you were talking about St. Paul out in the courtyard, and yet you kind of dismiss other things with a laugh. And I’m not just thinking of these roundels of popes. There were some other stories, like St. James at Compostella, and some practices, like the relics we’ve seen in various churches, that you seem to just write off. What gives?”
“That’s a serious question, and it deserves a serious answer,” Bryce recognized. Let’s duck out into the cloister so we can sit and talk.
In the cloister, which is a very interesting place in its own right, they half sat, half leaned on the low walls as Bryce gathered his thoughts.
“There is a saying which goes something like this: In essentials, unity; in doubtful matters, liberty; and in all things, charity. It’s often attributed to St. Augustine of Hippo, but no one has ever found it in any of his writings, and it first appears in the sixteenth century. Well, anyway, the problem arises when we try to determine what is essential, and what is not, or is doubtful. I read something on this by the French church historian Joseph LeClerc who defined the “doubtful” as that which has not been formally defined by the Church, and I guess I can go along with that interpretation. Okay, so there are some things which are essential, and for me that includes all those things which have been defined as doctrine by an ecumenical council or papal decree. When I was spouting off about St. Paul, basically I was saying that he is one of the founders of the Catholic Church, and the Church has the authority to interpret his writings, deciding what is essential and what is not. St. Paul was a man of his times, and said things about women and slaves which are pretty clearly not acceptable by anyone today except a few wierdo cultists among the fundamentalists. I think what he had to say about gays falls into that same category, and as no council or papal decree has formally defined anything having to do with gays, I consider it in the category of doubtful, or debatable matters, theologically speaking. What I do not consider doubtful is the authority of the Church to define matters of doctrine, as the Church has been given that authority by Jesus himself, and is itself the visible body of Jesus on earth.
“Now, about various legends and practices, I think some considered judgment is called for. There is nothing essential to the faith of the Church in the story of the miraculous translation of the remains of St. James to Spain. I’m not saying it happened, or it didn’t happen. I am saying it does not really matter, as far as the faith is concerned. Likewise, I don’t care for the practice of preserving bits and pieces of a saint, and especially putting them on display. It’s kind of macabre, I think. Likewise, I don’t care for some of what I think of as Mediterranean devotional practices, such as making one’s way across the plaza at Fatima on one’s knees. We’ll run into that again when we visit the Scala Sancta here in Rome. I don’t care for what I think of as excessively harsh penitential practices, like self-flagellation or hair shirts. Again, none of these things are basic to the faith.
“Some people evidently do find these things helpful in their devotional life. As long as they don’t insist that I do them as well, I’m perfectly willing to let them have their devotions. If it satisfies their spiritual need to climb the Scala Sancta on their knees, that’s fine with me. If it increased their sense of the holy to see the incorrupt corpse of St. Catherine Labouré, or even the head of St. Catherine of Siena, then by all means let them visit these relics. But I took you to see them so you could experience the all-encompassing breadth of the Church, not because I personally care for such displays. This is a case where I think we should extend liberty to those who do want these things. Throwing them out, like the Puritans did, is just imposing one kind of spirituality on everyone, and it certainly is not an example of charity,” Bryce concluded.
“Okay. I think I get where you’re coming from now,” Damon said. “But please, no more bits and pieces of people, okay?”
“Okay, boyfriend. How about a visit to a bit of a sarcophagus?” Bryce said.
“Huh?”
“You know. Those stone caskets the ancients used for their important dead, like the one we saw in Cologne with the body of St. Albert the Great in it,” Bryce reminded Damon.
“Oh, okay. But what about this visit you mentioned?” Damon asked.
“Well, in the church here, under the high altar, there is a burial chamber which supposedly contains the body of St. Paul. But all you can see is the short end of the sarcophagus. No bits and pieces of people,” Bryce said, then smiled.
“Stone burial caskets I can take. Let’s do it,” Damon agreed.
And so they went back inside. A portion of the original basilica which escaped the fire of 1823 is found in the triumphal arch in the apse, with mosaics dating to the time of Pope Leo the Great, about mid fifth century, and paid for by Galla Placidia, daughter of the Emperor Theodosius. St. Paul is portrayed to the left, pointing downward, presumably to his grave. A series of investigations carried out from 2002 to 2006 confirmed the presence of a white marble sarcophagus beneath the high altar, but only one short end is visible to the visitor.
“Well,” Bryce said as they left the church, “that was the first of the seven major churches of Rome. There are lots of churches in Rome, maybe even hundreds, but visiting these seven I mentioned earlier has been part of a pilgrimage to the eternal city since the middle ages. We are carrying on a venerable tradition.”
“Right now, I’m interested in another venerable tradition, called eating,” Damon said. “Let’s get back to the hotel area, ditch the car, and find some place to sample the great Italian food I’m getting to like more and more.”
“You’re on,” Bryce agreed.