THE ROAD TO ROME

Korero (AEWS), Volume 2, Issue 4, 28 February 1944, Page 7

THE ROAD TO ROME

A KORERO Report

Our troops who disembarked near Anzio and Nettuno landed in a region of the utmost interest and

importance. This is not the first time in recent history that Anzio has appeared in combined operations. Twenty years ago this lovely bay was the scene of a thrilling naval drama. The film was “ Ben Hur,” and the director was, naturally, Cecil B. de Mille. The battle at sea went off without a hitch. But, alas ! the same could not be said for land operations. For a hungry lion took a fancy to an Early Christian Italian super. This unrehearsed incident was not regarded with satisfaction by any but the monarch of the jungle.

Nettuno is named after a famous temple to Neptune which in classical times dominated the heights overlooking the harbour. These two ports were strongholds of the Volscians. When Rome, as a prelude to world conquest, established her power over the cities of Latium five hundred years before the present era she found in those towns the last pockets of enemy resistance.

They are important because they give access to the Appian Way, which leads in turn to Rome. This celebrated road, the oldest and most celebrated in the world, was begun by the Censor Appius Claudius in B.C. 312. It runs from Rome south to Capua and Brindisi ; it is about 350 miles long, and from 14 ft. to 18 ft. wide. It is paved with hard stones in irregular blocks, closely fitting together on a firm substructure. Despite the enormous lapse of time a part of it is still in use.

The new Appian Way was built at the end of the eighteenth century by Pius VI, a Pope who defied Napoleon. It is close to the old one, which it rejoins at Albano. Within sight is another celebrated road, the Tusculan Way, leading to Frascati. All three of these great highways are the object of the present fighting.

Those roads to Rome are as unique in interest as they are of importance to the whole campaign. They are the arteries

of a countryside which is rich in fine vineyards and the home of excellent wines. Here, in the Roman Campagna, squat groves of silvery olive trees stand out against a background of cypress and pine. Cattle graze amid the deserted aqueducts, and sheep crop the grass among the tombs. For the place is really a vast cemetery. The Romans deliberately lined their triumphal highways with imposing sepulchres reminding captive and conqueror alike of the shortness and impermanence of life. This is a genuinely classical landscape with its broken pillars and ruined arches against the lovely line of the Alban Hills and Mount Soracte sparkling in the distance. The Appian Way enters Rome at the Capuan Gate, which gives its name to a famous restaurant. A portion of the ancient wall is to be found in the restaurant’s wine-cellar. This place enjoyed in peacetime a well-deserved reputation for superb chicken, roasted on a great spit before a huge fire and served with the cool, dry, white wine of Orvieto. No better introduction to Rome could be either imagined or hoped for. Rome is a little bewildering at first, but always charming and full of interest. There are so many Romes for those who know where to look—Rome of the Caesars, of the catacombs, of the early churches ; Rome of the Popes and the great artists and builders ; Rome of the modern Italy and imperial ambitions. Those political pretensions have been brought low ; but the other Rome, the ancient centre of the Christian faith, the Mother and teacher of western civilization, keeps her place unmoved. Her sole meaning for history is in the moral order.

In normal times Rome is one of the most delightful cities in the world. A walk along the Corso provides intimate glimpses of a lively and colourful scene. The presence of two courts, with the Royal and Papal officials from the Quirinal and Vatican respectively, allow

the man in the street to feel at times that he is watching history being made. There is everywhere a profusion of flowers ; water plays in countless fountains of quaint and curious design. It is a place of noble palaces and majestic flights of steps where even the civic monuments are usually in good taste.

It is a city of the past where up till the beginning of the war the busy spade of the archaeologist was continually unearthing new marvels. In the last twenty years the Italian Government has in this way given an immense impetus to the study of history. In areas that teemed with buried treasure decaying tenements have been demolished and whole new Fora revealed. Great roads were built like the famous Via Dell’ Impero past the Roman Forum, linking up Mussolini’s Palazzo Venezia with that famous Christian monument, the Colosseum.

A new University city has arisen on the outskirts ; while playing fields and stadiums are supposed to encourage a love of manly sports. It is doubtful, however, whether Italians are by temperament adapted to our forms of recreation. Players have been known so far to forget their differences as to execute a concerted attack on the referee. Football, indeed, seems almost too perilous for the Italian public ; spectators with weak hearts sometimes suffer a fatal collapse from the intolerable excitement. The real interest of Rome lies elsewhere. We find it in the splendid palaces and venerable churches ingeniously restored in recent times. There on the seven hills, surrounded by tranquil gardens of ilex and cypresses, the life of Rome goes on. While the ancient sanctuaries hold perhaps more interest for the

student, there is no denying the immensely imposing effect of such sumptuous Renaissance basilicas as St. Peter’s. Standing in the vast apse you look down the immense nave to the great bronze door at the threshold, an eighth of a mile away. The altar is built of precious marble, adorned with mosaics, encrusted with priceless gems. So perfect are the church’s proportions it is difficult to feel its size. You read the text on the interior of the dome and can hardly believe that each stroke of the letters is taller than a man.

The air is hushed, but the silence is alive. The light is not dim and ineffectual, but soft and high and rich as floating gold. Masterpieces of sculpture mark the resting-place of Pontiffs and kings ; one such graceful monument was

erected by George IV to honour the memory of the fateful Stuarts. Down the nave an arcade of Corinthian pilasters and stupendous arches carry the eye on to the wonderful vaulted ceiling which seems like a second and golden sky. Over the high altar Bernini’s magnificent canopy soars up to a height of 95 ft.— a hundred tons of wrought bronze taken from the roof of the Pantheon. It is fitting that these places once rent by the death cries of Christian martyrs should be for ever thus enclosed and hallowed by public acts of religion. For Rome is principally the setting for a religious drama, the background against which are daily enacted the sacred rites of the Christian faith, ordered with a solemn ritual, made joyous with holy song.