The church has the place of honor in early itineraries of pilgrims, because of its peculiarity in containing a martyr's tomb _within_ the walls of the city. William of Malmesbury says: "Inside the city, on the Cælian hill, John and Paul, martyrs, lay in their own house, which was made into a church after their death." The Salzburg Itinerary describes the church as "very large and beautiful." The account of the lives of the two brothers, and of their execution under Julian the apostate, is apocryphal; but no one who has seen Padre Germano's excavations will deny the essential fact, that in this noble Roman house of the Cælian some one was put to death for his faith, and that over the room in which the event took place a church was built at a later age. Tradition attributes its construction to Pammachius, son of Bizantes, the charitable senator, and friend of S. Jerome, who built an hospice at Porto for the use of pilgrims landing from countries beyond the sea. The church, according to the rule, was not named from the martyrs to whose memory it was sacred, but from the founders; and it became known first as the _Titulus Bizantis_, later as the _Titulus Pammachii._ Strictly speaking, there was no transformation, but a mere superstructure. The Roman house was left intact, with its spacious halls, and classical decorations, to be used as a crypt, while the basilica was raised to a much higher level. The murder of the saints seems to have taken place in a narrow passage (_fauces_) not far from the _tablinum_ or reception room. Here we see the _fenestella confessionis_, by means of which pilgrims were allowed to behold and touch the venerable grave. Two things strike the modern visitor: the variety of the fresco decorations of the house, which begin with pagan genii holding festoons, a tolerably good work of the third century, and end with stiff, uncanny representations of the Passion, of the ninth and tenth centuries; second, the fact that such an important monument should have been buried and forgotten, so that its discovery by Padre Germano took us by surprise. The upper church, the "beautiful and great" Titulus Pammachii, was treated with almost equal contempt by Cardinal Camillo Paolucci and his architect, Antonio Canevari, who "modernized" it at the end of the seventeenth century. The "spirit of the age" which lured these _seicento_ men into committing such archæological and artistic blunders, placed no boundary upon its evil work. It attacked equally the great mediæval structures and their contents. To quote one instance: in the vestibule of this church was the tomb of Luke, cardinal of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, the friend of S. Bernard, the legate at the council of Clermont. It was composed of an ancient sarcophagus, resting on two marble lions. During the "modernization" of the seventeenth century, the coffin was turned into a water-trough, and cut half-way across so as to make it fit the place for which it was intended.