Roman Mosaics; Or, Studies in Rome and Its Neighbourhood
John Stuart Mill · en
From the Tullianum or Prison of St. Peter, we were led through a
tortuous subterranean passage of Etruscan character, a hundred yards
long, cut out of the rock. It was so low that we had to stoop all the
way, and in some places almost to creep, and so narrow that a very
stout person would have some difficulty in forcing himself through.
The floor was here and there wet with the overflowing of neighbouring
drains, which exhaled a noisome smell; and we had to pick our steps
carefully through thick greasy mud, which on the slopes was very
slippery and disagreeable. We followed each other in Indian file,
stooping low, each with a wax taper burning dimly in the damp
atmosphere, and presenting a most picturesque appearance. This passage
was discovered only a few years ago. Numerous passages of a similar
nature are said to penetrate the volcanic rock on which the Capitol
stands, in every direction, like the galleries of an ant's nest. Some
of these have been exposed, and others walled up. They connect the
Prison with the _Cloaca_, and doubtless furnished means by which the
bodies of criminals who had been executed might be secretly disposed
of. The passage in question brought us to four other chambers, each
darker and more dismal than the other, and partially filled with heaps
of rubbish and masses of stone that had fallen from their roofs and
sides. At the top of each vault there was a man-hole for letting a
prisoner down with cords into it. A visit to these six vaults of the
Mamertine Prison gives one an idea that can never be forgotten of the
cruelty and tyranny which underlay all the gorgeous despotism of Rome,
alike in the kingly, republican, and imperial periods. Some of the
remains may still be seen of the _Scalae Gemoniae_, the "steps of
sighs," down which the bodies of those who were executed were thrown,
to be exposed to the insults of the populace. The only circumstance
that relieves the intolerable gloom of the associations of the Prison
is, that Naevius is said to have written two of his plays while he was
confined in it for his attacks on the aristocracy; a circumstance
which links it to the Tower of London, which has also its literary
reminiscences. After having been immured so long in such disagreeable
physical darkness--appropriate emblem of the deeds of horror committed
in it--we were truly glad to catch at last a faint glimmer of daylight
shimmering into the uppermost passage, and to emerge into the open
sunshine, from beneath a house at the farther end of the Vicolo del
Ghettarello.