CHAPTER VII.
WITH HILARUS THE FOSSOR.
"No one becomes vile all at once," said the Roman moralist, and we wouldbe unjust to the fickle, fawning Greek Isidorus, if we concluded thatdeliberate treachery was his purpose, as, at the invitation ofPrimitius, he repaired next day to the catacomb of St. Calixtus. His wasa susceptible, impressionable nature, easily influenced by itsenvironment, like certain substances that acquire the odour, fragrant orfoul, of the atmosphere by which they are surrounded. Amid the vilenessof the Roman court, his better feelings died, and he was willing tobecome the minion of tyranny, or the tool of treachery. Amid the holyinfluences of the Christian assembly, some chord responded, like anEolian harp, to the breathings of the airs from heaven. It was,therefore, with strangely conflicting feelings, that he passed beneaththe Capuan Gate, and along the Appian Way, toward the Villa Marcella.His better nature recoiled from his purposed treachery of the previousday. His heart yearned to know more of that strange power whichsustained the Christian martyr in the presence of torture and of death.
He was recognized by the porter at the gate of the villa as thecompanion of Faustus, and on his inquiry for the house of Hilarus, thefossor, was directed to a low-walled, tile-roofed building, such as maybe seen in many parts of the Campagna to the present day. About thehouse were many stone chippings, and numerous slabs of marble. Under asort of arbour, covered with vine branches in full leaf, stood agrisly-visaged man, with close-cropped, iron-gray hair, chipping withmallet and chisel at a large sarcophagus, or stone coffin, upon amason's bench.
"Do I address Hilarus, the fossor?" asked the Greek, with a gracefulsalutation.
"I am Hilarus, at your service, noble sir," replied the old man, with akindly expression of countenance.
The young Greek then told of the invitation given him by the goodpresbyter, Primitius, and requested to be conducted to him.
"You are, of course, known to the porter, or you would not have obtainedadmission to these grounds," said Hilarus. "But you will first honour mypoor roof by partaking some refreshment after your hot walk from thecity."
"Thanks, good friend," replied the Greek, "a draught of your nativewine would not be amiss. Nay, I would prefer it here beneath thegrateful shadow of this vine," he continued, as Hilarus courteously ledthe way to the open door of the cottage. This was quite small, and hadalmost no furniture save some earthen pots for cooking at an openfireplace. In a moment the old man re-appeared with an earthen flagon ofwine and a bronze salver, with bread and goat's milk cheese, and abronze cup.[21]
"For whom is this elegant sarcophagus?" asked Isidorus, as he sipped hiswine.
SARCOPHAGUS NOW IN LATERAN MUSEUM.]
"I pray it be not for her who orders it," said the old man, devoutly;"at least not for many a long day to come. The good Lady Marcella bademe exercise my best skill in setting forth the great truths of theGospel, that in death as in life, she said, she might teach thedoctrines of Christ. She often comes to see how I get on with it, and todescribe how she wishes it to be. See," said the old man, pointing tothe side--(see above)--"the general idea is all her own, the detailsonly are mine. These four groups exhibit four scenes in the life--orrather in the death--of our Lord. To the extreme right we see Pilate,warned by his wife, washing his hands and saying 'I am innocent of theblood of this just person,' and yet, like a coward, consenting to Hisdeath, he was as guilty as Judas, who betrayed Him."
At this the Greek visibly winced, then paled and flushed, and said,"Well, what is the next group?"
"That is part of the same," said the sculptor, with evident pride in hiswork. "It represents our Lord, guarded by a Roman soldier, witnessing agood confession before Pontius Pilate. In the central niche are twosoldiers, types of the Christian warriors, whose only place of safety isbeneath the cross; while above are the wreath of victory, the doves ofpeace, and the sacred monogram, made up, I need not tell you, who are aGreek, of the two first letters of the word Christos. To the left youobserve a Roman soldier, putting on Jesus the crown of thorns, and inthe last, Simon the Cyrenian, guarded by a soldier, bearing Hiscross."[22]
"And for whom are all these funeral tablets," said Isidorus, pointing toa number of slabs partly executed--some with the engraved outline of adove, or fish, or anchor, or olive branch upon them--leaning against thewall.
"For whom God pleases," said the old man, devoutly. "I keep them readyto suit purchasers, and then I have only to fill the name and age, ordate."
"But see here," said the Greek, touching with his foot one on which wereeffigies of Castor and Pollux, the "great twin brethren" of the Romanmythology, and the letters, "DIS MANIBVS--To the Divine Spirits;" "thisis a pagan inscription. How come you to use that?"
"Oh, we turn up such slabs by scores, in ploughing the fields hereabout.They may be hundreds of years old, for aught I know. We just turn thatside to the wall, or deface it with a few strokes of the chisel."
"It was a prentice hand that made _that_, I'll be bound," said theGreek, pointing to one on which was rudely painted in black pigment, thesprawling inscription that follows, no two letters being the same size--
LOcvSaVgvStIsvToRis."The Place of Augustus, the Shoemaker."
"Oh, that is the epitaph of a poor cobbler. I let my boys do that fornothing. They will soon be able to do better. Here now is one by myoldest son, of which I would not be ashamed myself;" and he pointed to aneatly-cut inscription, the letters coloured with a bright vermillionpigment, which ran thus,--
AVRELIAE THEVDOSIAEBENIGNISSIMAE ET INCOMPARABILI FEMINAEAVRELIVS OPTATVSCONIVGE INNOCENTISSIMAE
"Aurelius Optatus, to his most innocent wife, Aurelia Theudosia, a mostgracious and incomparable woman."
"We will now, if you are sufficiently cool," he went on, "enter thecatacomb. It is not well to make too sudden a transition from thissultry heat to their chilly depths."
"Thanks," said the young man, "I shall find the change from this sultryair, I doubt not, very agreeable;" and they crossed a vineyard under ablazing sun, that made the cool crypts exceedingly grateful. Descendingthe stairway, the guide took from a niche a small terra-cotta lamp,which he carefully trimmed and lit at another, which was always keptburning there.[23]
"Is there not danger of losing one's way in this labyrinth?" asked theGreek, feeling no small degree of the terror of his late adventurereturning.
"Very great danger, indeed," replied Hilarus, "unless you know the clueand marks by which we steer, almost like ships at sea. But knowingthese, the way may become as familiar as the streets of Rome. You may,perhaps, have heard of C[ae]cilia, a blind girl, who acted as guide tothese subterranean places of assembly, because to her accustomed feetthe path was as easy as the Appian Way to those who see."
"How many Greek epitaphs there are," said Isidorus, deeply interested inscanning the inscriptions as he passed.
"Yes," said the fossor, "there are a-many of your countryfolk buriedhere; and even some who are not like to have their epitaphs written inthe language in which holy Paulus wrote his epistle to the Church inRome."
"But what wretched scrawls the most of them are," said the Greek, withsomething like a sneer; "and see, here is one even upside down."
"Yes, noble sir," continued the old man, "not many mighty, not manynoble are called--most of those who sleep around us are God's greatfamily of the poor. Indeed, most of them were slaves. That poor fellowwas a martyr in the last persecution. I mind it well, though it is yearsagone. We buried him by stealth at dead of night, and did not noticethat the hastily written inscription was reversed."
The dim rays of their lamp and taper made but a faint ring of lightabout their feet. Their steps, as they walked over the rocky floor,echoed strangely down the long-drawn corridors and hollow vaults, dyinggradually away in the solemn stillness of this valley of the shadow ofdeath. The sudden transition from the brilliant Italian sunlight to thissepulchral gloom, from the busy city of the living to this silent cityof the dead, smote the heart of the susceptible youth with
a feeling ofawe. And all around in this vast necropolis, each in his narrow cellforever laid, were unnumbered thousands, who were once like himself,full of energy and life.
SECTIONAL VIEW OF GALLERY AND CHAMBERS, SHOWING LIGHT ANDAIR SHAFT]
As they advanced, a faint light in the distance seemed to penetrate thegloom. It grew brighter as they approached, and attracted by the soundof the footsteps, a venerable figure emerged from a doorway and stood inthe flood of light which poured down from an opening in the vaultedroof, which extended to the bright free air above. Almost like anapparition from the other world, in the strong, Rembrandt-likeillumination in which he stood, looked the venerable Primitius, clothedin white, with silvery hair and flowing beard, and high, bare brow. AsIsidorus glanced up the shaft, he saw the blue sky shining far above,and the waving of the long grass that fringed the opening for light andair. This construction--a very frequent one in the Catacombs--is shownin sectional view on the previous page. On each side of the corridor wasa chamber about twelve feet square, also lit up by this shaft, which,plastered with white stucco, reflected the light into every part.
"Welcome, my son," said the venerable presbyter, as he sat down on abench hewn out of the dry pummice-like rock "Welcome to these abodes ofdeath; may they prove to thee the birthplace to eternal life;" and helaid his hand benignantly on the head of the young man, whom he hadmotioned to a seat beside him.
"Sire," said the youth, all the nobler feelings of his nature deeplymoved, "I wish above all things to sit at your feet and to learn thelessons of wisdom which you are so well able to impart But are theseseemly surroundings for a man of your years and condition?--this rockyvault, this utter loneliness, and these crumbling relics of mortality?"and he shuddered as he glanced at the shattered sepulchral slabs, whichrevealed the remains of what was once man in his strength, woman in herbeauty, or a sweet child in its innocence and glee.
"Why not, my son? soon I must lie down with them and be at rest. Thethought has no terrors to my soul I know no loneliness, and through thecare of kind friends my wants are all supplied. But your young blood andsensitive imagination, I perceive, shrink from these things to which, bylong use, I have become accustomed. Let us go into the adjoiningchamber, which you will find more cheerful, and, I trust, not lessinstructive."
EARLY CHRISTIAN SCULPTURE--SARCOPHAGUS OF JUNIUS BASSUS,ROME.]
CEILING PAINTING FROM CATACOMB OF ST. CALIXTUS, ROME.]
FOOTNOTES:
[21] Just such a peasant's house the writer visited on the Appian Way,near this spot, and just such a repast he shared at the entrance of thisvery catacomb. "The wine," said the guide, "is necessary to guardagainst a chill." The contrast between the temperature above ground andbelow was about 30 degrees.
[22] This sarcophagus, with many others resembling it the writer studiedminutely in the Lateran Museum at Rome.
[23] The writer has some of these earthen lamps which once did servicein the Catacombs. They bear Christian symbols, inscribed beforebaking--a dove, anchor, olive branch, fish, and the like.
Valeria, the Martyr of the Catacombs: A Tale of Early Christian Life in Rome Page 9
