Rome's Unsolved Mysteries

So you think you know everything there is to know about Rome? Ok, maybe that’s asking a lot. Do you believe you can find the answer to any Rome-related question with a simple Google search? Are you convinced your heaving library of books on Rome holds all the answers? Think every facet of this city’s past has been asked and answered? Well, think again. There are, in fact, many question marks that surround Rome’s fascinating history. Let’s go on a little treasure hunt of sorts to look at some of the most intriguing unanswered questions:

The Pantheon on Rome's birthday, © Tiffany Parks

Is the Pantheon a sundial?
The Pantheon is one of the most recognizable monuments in the Eternal City and receives millions of visitors every year. Any guidebook will tell you that the temple was built by Emperor Hadrian around 126 AD, that it’s the best-preserved ancient Roman building in the city, and that the early Renaissance architects studied it for insight on building domes. Its most characteristic aspects include a coffered ceiling, the largest unreinforced concrete dome in the world, and an oculus—or open hole—in the ceiling that illuminates the dark interior with dramatic shafts of light.
But recent studies have hypothesized that the iconic site is even more than meets the eye. Historians Robert Hannah and Giulio Magli claim that the true purpose of the Pantheon was nothing less than an enormous sundial, having been oriented so that the sunbeam from the oculus lights up certain areas of the interior at significant times of the year. And in fact, the light beam shines directly out the door at noon on 21 April, the legendary founding of the city, and in other striking ways on solstices and equinoxes. Other scholars disagree, saying that the purpose of the oculus was to cool the building in the heat of summer, or lighten the weight of the immense dome to prevent collapse. But without concrete evidence, the true purpose of the Pantheon will remain one more of Rome’s unsolved mysteries.
Piazza della Rotonda. Open Mon–Sat, 9am–7:30pm; Sun, 9am–6pm.
 

Basilica Neopitagorica

What was the Basilica Neopitagorica used for?
Located directly below the tracks of a railroad line that connects Rome and Naples and buried entirely underground, the Basilica Neopitagorica is one of the most mysterious and little-known sites in the city. The mysterious building lies nearly nine meters under Via Prenestina, and is laid out in the classical basilica plan, with three naves, an apse, an atrium, and a dromos. The barrel-vaulted ceilings are decorated with stucco reliefs depicting mystic symbols, the floors are covered with traces of black and white mosaics, and frescoes along the walls depict scenes from Greek mythology.
But no one knows for sure what this cryptic space was used for, and multiple theories have been put forth since its accidental discovery in 1917. Some claim it was a nymphaeum, others insist it was a mausoleum or funerary complex dating to the late-Augustan period. The most widely held belief is that it was a sanctuary of the Neo-Pythagorean cult, a philosophic and religious movement inspired by the teachings of the Greek thinker Pythagoras. The cult eventually died out in favor of Neo-Platonism, and the basilica appears to have been destroyed during the reign of Emperor Claudius.
Although it is now entirely excavated, the site has long been inaccessible to the public, mostly due to its precarious position beneath the railway line. However, it opened its doors for a limited series of visits this past fall, and although those visits are now over, we can only hope that they decide to do so again in the near future. Especially as this one’s on my bucket list.
Piazzale Labicano. www.coopculture.it

 

San Lorenzo Fuori le Mura

Is the Holy Grail in Rome?
Everyone knows the story of the mystical Holy Grail and the numerous lifelong quests to discover its location, or even confirm its very existence. From King Arthur to the Knights Templar to Indiana Jones, every great adventurer has dreamed of holding the sacred chalice in his hands. But what if this most sought-after of artifacts were right here in Rome, under our very noses? That’s what archeologist Alfredo M. Barbagallo claims. Christian tradition would have it that the treasures of the early church were entrusted to St. Lawrence by Pope Sixtus II in 258 AD. Was it a coincidence that the saint was martyred just four days later (famously grilled alive) during the persecution of Emperor Valerian? Barbagallo says no. He believes that St. Lawrence took the grail with him to his grave, on top of which was built a small shrine, and later the Basilica San Lorenzo Fuori le Mura. Go ahead and visit for yourself, but keep in mind that the catacombs under the church remain sealed. Until they are opened, we’ll never know for sure.
Piazzale del Verano, 3. Open daily, 7:30am–12:30pm and 3:30–7pm.

 

The Colosseum by night, © Alessandro Silipo

Is Rome truly haunted?
In a city that has seen as much death as Rome has, there are bound to be a few ghosts flying around. From the thousands of people slaughtered in the Colosseum, to the medieval plagues that carried away 90% of the population to the Sack of Rome of 1527 that claimed up to 12,000 lives, the scent of death has been a constant in the Eternal City since its inception. For centuries, it was believed that the Colosseum was one of the seven portals to hell, rife with demons. Artist Benvenuto Cellini wrote in the 16th century of his experience consulting with a necromancer at the Colosseum, seeking to discover the fate of his missing lover. As late as the turn of the last century, the Colosseum was thought to be so polluted by the noxious fumes of its countless murders as to be fatal to anyone who breathed them, particularly at night. (Just read Henry James’ Daisy Miller if you don’t believe us.) Decide for yourself if it’s truly haunted by taking an after-hours tour, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Piazza del Colosseo, 1. www.coopculture.it
Want more solid proof of the existence of ghosts? Pay a visit to the Museum of the Souls in Purgatory, a tiny museum that displays messages from beyond the grave: fingerprints burned into prayer books, a charred handprint on a wooden table, and other creepy evidence that heaven’s unpleasant waiting room might actually exist.
Lungotevere Prati, 12. Open 7:30–11am and 3:30–7:30pm.

David Oakes as Juan Borgia and Francois Arnaud as Cesare Borgia in Showtime's series, The Borgias

Did Cesare Borgia kill his brother?
The infamous Borgia clan: they were rich, powerful, corrupt, violent, and Spanish. Led by the charismatic and sensual patriarch Rodrigo Borgia, who was elected Pope Alexander VI in 1492, they were the most hated and feared family in Renaissance Rome. Scandal followed wherever they went, and not without good reason. The Pope had at least 11 illegitimate children and celebrated his ascension to the throne of St. Peter by acquiring a new teenaged mistress. Two of his children, Cesare and Lucrezia, were accused of having an incestuous relationship, and his Master of Ceremonies Johannes Burkhart reported elaborate orgies taking place inside the Pope’s apartments. But by far the greatest scandal of his papacy was the death of the family golden child, Juan Borgia, when his body mysteriously washed up on the shores of the Tiber with its throat slit and nine stab wounds to its torso. He was hated by so many people that it was impossible to identify a killer, although many scholars believe one of his own brothers did the deed, most likely Cesare, jealous of their father’s favor and their sister’s affections. After more than 500 years, the trail has gone a bit cold, and it’s unlikely we’ll ever know for sure who killed Juan Borgia. But a visit to the Borgia Apartment (part of the Vatican Museums), with the nefarious family members immortalized in frescoes by Pinturicchio, will make the mystery come alive. And keep your eyes peeled for the trap door that reportedly exists somewhere within it, a hatch that emptied directly into the Tiber, making it all too easy for the Pope to dispose of his enemies.
Viale Vaticano. Open Mon–Sat, 9am–4pm. www.vatican.va
 
 

Pope John Paul I, August 1978

Pope John Paul I, September 1978

Was John Paul I murdered?
A slightly more recent Vatican whodunit concerns the fate of Pope John Paul I, whose pontifical reign lasted a mere 33 days. Elected on 26 August 1978, he was found dead in the early hours of the morning of 29 September, barely a month later. Official Church spokespeople insisted his death was natural, although some reported heart attack and others said pulmonary embolism, others still claimed an accidental overdose of his medications. It would later be impossible to confirm, as his body was embalmed immediately, with no autopsy. Not only that, but the Pope had no history of heart issues, his personal items disappeared, never to be seen again, and it eventually came out that the nun who had discovered his body was placed under a vow of silence. Many suggest there was, in fact, a more sinister explanation behind his untimely demise, perhaps because Papa Luciani (as he was affectionately known) did not always adhere to the conservative Vatican line, and his fervent goal was to rid the echelons of the Church of its wealth and power. Not very convenient for the big dogs in the Vatican curia. To learn more, pick up a copy of In God’s Name, a work of nonfiction by investigative journalist David Yallop.

Johanna Wokalek as the title character in Pope Joan (Constatin Film)

Was there really a female pope?
A mystery that is sure to remain unsolved, probably for all time, is that of Pope Joan, the supposed female pope. The story goes that, during the early Middle Ages—the 9th century according to most accounts—a young Saxon woman who was unusually well educated for the time, disguised herself as a man and became a monk. She later travelled to Rome where she ascended the church hierarchy and was eventually elected pope. She ruled for two and a half years, but was discovered when she gave birth unexpectedly during a papal procession, and died shortly thereafter. The earliest reports of this extraordinary tale don’t appear until the 13th century, and for this reason, many naysayers reject the story out of hand. But while the story of “la papessa” officially holds legend status, there are those who wholeheartedly believe she existed. Their number one piece of evidence is a wooden chair—reportedly hidden away in the archives of the Vatican Museums—with a keyhole shape cut out of its seat. During the middle Ages, newly elected popes would be asked to sit on the chair, while a cardinal checked to make sure they were indeed male. Intrigued? Pick up Donna Woolfolk Cross’s historical novel Pope Joan, or the 2009 film based on the same.

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A Short* History of Conclave

Archbishop Piero Marini, 18 April 2005. © Reuters/Osservatore Romano

*Disclaimer: Despite the title, this post is not short.

This Tuesday afternoon (5 March 2012), around 1:15, the Sistine Chapel closed its doors to the public in preparation for conclave, which, although it has not been officially announced, is expected to begin early next week. (Side note: how cool would it be if the new pope were elected on the Ides of March? I'm mean, we've had enough omens since the Artist Formerly Known as Pope Benedict XVI announced his impending resignation, what's one more?)

But before conclave begins, before I go into what exactly it entails, and who the biggest contenders are, I'd like to delve into the history of this sacred ritual. I have always been fascinated with conclave. It's such a mysterious and secretive rite, dating back so many centuries, it makes the history-lover in me tingle with glee. Plus, it takes place in the Sistine Chapel. It is an understatement so say I have spent a lot of time in the Sistine Chapel. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that I have been inside its sacred and gloriously frescoed walls at least 500 times (not nearly as many as the maritino though, I must reluctantly admit).

Sistine Chapel

Everyone knows that popes are elected inside that spectacular chapel in the Vatican, but exactly how long has that tradition been around? The chapel itself was built only in the late 15th century, and we've had Popes in Rome the time of St. Peter. Where was conclave held before 1481, when the structure of the chapel was completed? And once conclave moved to the chapel, was it always held there? The answers will probably surprise you.

Although the title of this post contains the word "short," I have a feeling it is going to be something a challenge to adhere to it, what with nearly 2000 years of history to cover. To avoid going into the history of the papacy itself (although that would be a fun--for me, probably not you--and challenging undertaking and I hope to attempt it soon), I will brush over the first millennium entirely, because during that time, papal elections did not exist. The pope was chosen by various means, sometimes entirely secular, such as by appointment of the Holy Roman Emperor. It wasn't until 1059, when Pope Nicholas II issued the papal bull In nomine Domini, that an election by cardinals was established.

The very first pope to be chosen by a college of cardinal-electors was Nicholas II's successor, Pope Alexander II. The election took place in the church of San Pietro in Vincoli in 1061. But although it was an election, and although a pope was made, it was not, technically, a conclave. The word conclave, as many of you are surely aware, comes from the Latin cum clave, "with key." In fact, the first true conclave wouldn't take place for another two hundred years.

During the 12th and 13th centuries, papal elections were held in a slew of different locations, including over half a dozen churches in Rome, from St John's in Lateran to the old St. Peter's, a Benedictine monastery on the Palatine Hill, the Septizodium (before it was practically raised to the ground by Sixtus V), an Abbey in France, and the cities of Terracina, Naples, Verona, Pisa, Perugia, Ferrara, and of course, Viterbo. It was the general practice to elect the new pope wherever the previous pope had died.

Palazzo dei Papi, Viterbo

Some of these elections were less than efficient. The election of 1261 dragged on nearly three months, that of 1264 for five, but by far the biggest debacle in papal election history (perhaps even worse that last week's catastrophic Italian parliamentary election), occurred upon the death of Pope Clement IV in 1268. The election began in November of that year in the Palace of the Popes in Viterbo, where the official seat of the papacy had moved during that time of instability in Rome. When, for political reasons, the cardinals were incapable of reaching an agreement, the election process dragged on for nearly three years. Two years in, the magistrates of Viterbo had locked the cardinals up in the palace, and put them on a ration of bread and water, in the hopes that it would hasten a decision. When even that didn't work, the roof of the hall in which they were convened was removed, supposedly in order to facilitate the Holy Spirit to descend upon the hapless cardinals.

The Longest Conclave in History

At long last, in September of 1271, Pope Gregory X was elected and the longest papal election (and technically, the first conclave) was at an end. Little wonder, after that fiasco, that the newly minted pope issued a papal bull, Ubi periculum, in 1274 that established new rules regarding the election, such as the sequestering of the cardinals and menu restrictions after a set number of days. Many of these rules are still in use today. 

Portrait of Gregory X, Sala del Conclave, Palazzo dei Papi, Viterbo.

Gregory's new conclave rules worked, and the next election in 1276 was wrapped up in an astonishing two days. Unfortunately the sensible rules were chucked out later that same year, and soon the old problems cropped up again, as you'll remember in the case of our friend Pope Celestine V. If one good thing did come out of the old hermit's papacy, it was the reinstatement of the conclave rules of Ubi periculum in 1294.

Still, just 15 years later, as a result of the conflict between the papacy and the French king, the seat of the papacy was moved to Avignon, France, and the following seven conclaves took place at the Palace of the Popes in that lovely Provencal city, each one producing a French pontiff. When the papacy was at last restored to Rome in 1376, and a conclave for the next pope occurred two years later, Roman citizens rioted, so strong was their fear that another Frenchman would ascend the throne of St. Peter and the court would be moved back to France. It's important to point out that the papal court was vital to the economy of Rome, for it brought pilgrims to the city, good for business for innkeepers, rosary-makers, tour guides, and sellers of all kinds of souvenirs (not much has changed there). Also, the presence of wealthy prelates and cardinals guaranteed work for the city's tailors, artists, skilled craftsmen like cabinet-makers and weavers, and, of course, prostitutes.

Palais du Papes, Avignon

In the end, under the pressure of the Roman populace, an Italian, Urban VI Prignano, was elected, the last time a non-cardinal became pope. Despite Urban’s Italian blood, he had such strong French sympathies that many of the cardinals who had elected him, regretting their decision, formed their own faction and elected an anti-pope. Thus began the great Western Schism that would divide the church for almost 40 years. Although the backstabbing and betrayal going on in the Vatican today, even as I write this, does not bode well for the future of the Catholic church, if it could survive the Western Schism (which eventually produced a second anti-pope in Pisa–so three popes in total were vying for power), it can survive anything.

All this chaos finally came to an end between 1415-17 during which time two anti-popes were deposed, the legitimate Pope Gregory XII was pressured to resign (some claim he, not Celestine V, was the last pope to resign before Benedict XVI, but considering the circumstances, I find it pointless to compare the two events), and Martin V Colonna was named pope in the Council of Constance. Every so often, anti-popes popped up, but none were taken too seriously. Martin V’s papacy not only marked the end of the Western Schism, but also the dawn of the Renaissance in Rome.

Habemus Papam, Election of Pope Martin V

Not until 1455 did it become the norm to hold conclave in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican, beginning with the election of the first Borgia pope, Callisto III. Coincidentally, it is Callisto’s nephew, our favorite papal bad boy Alexander VI, who holds the honor of being the first pope to be elected in the Sistine Chapel, in 1492.

Freeze frame from Showtime's The Borgias

I'm sure it won't surprise you to hear that Alexander VI's election was one of the most infamous in history. If you've watched The Borgias, you've seen this portrayed, although getting history from a television drama might not be the most accurate route. Here's what Nigel Cawthorne, in his book Sex Lives of the Popes, has to say about it:

...Rodrigo used the promise of rich preferments and out-and-out bribery to win the election. Some cardinals wanted palaces; others castles, land, or money. Cardinal Orsini sold his vote for the castles of Monticelli and Sariani. Cardinal Ascanio Sforza wanted four mule-loads of silver and the lucrative chancellorship of the Church to secure his vote. Cardinal Colonna got the wealthy Abbey of St. Benedict... The Cardinal of St. Angelo wanted the bishopric of Porto... Cardinal Savelli was given the Civita Castellana. ... The clinching vote belonged to a Venetian monk. All he wanted was 5,000 crowns and a night with Rodrigo's daughter, the lovely twelve-year-old Lucrezia.

That is all pretty damning, although I will say this highly entertaining work of  "non-fiction" has no references of any kind, so take it with a grain of salt.

One would imagine that the Sistine Chapel, so connected in modern consciousness with conclave, remained the de facto location for papal elections from that year forward, but in fact, during the following four centuries, only a handful of conclaves are recorded to have taken place there.

In the 1540s, Michelangelo, whose work in the Sistine Chapel was already considered a masterpiece, was hired to fresco the walls of the Pauline Chapel, just a few steps away. This smaller and more intimate chapel, built for the by-then dead Pope Paul III Farnese, was considered more appropriate for the solemn task of electing the pastor of the Catholic church. Michelangelo’s most famous work in that chapel (unfortunately closed to the public) is the Crucifixion of St. Peter. The martyr lies against the cross, upside down as he is about to be crucified. With visual effort, he lifts his head up and cranes his neck to look down at the viewer. During a conclave, Peter could gaze into the eyes of each of the cardinal-electors, reminding them of their sacred duty: to elect the man who will fill his shoes and represent Christ on Earth. Still, only two conclaves have ever been held in the Pauline Chapel: that of 1549-50 that elected Julius III, and that of 1559 that elected Pius IV. 

Crucifixion of St. Peter, Michelangelo Buonarroti, Pauline Chapel, Apostolic Palace, Vatican

Apparently Peter’s stern gaze failed to elicit the appropriate gravitas for the situation at hand, at least in the case of Julius III’s election. This conclave became notorious for rampant bribery, the influence of the Holy Roman Emperor, and cardinals passing inside information to bankers who would then make bets on the election’s outcome. It was Pius IV, moving into the thick of the Counter Reformation, who finally re-established the conclave rules long abandoned by his predecessors, regarding seclusion, secrecy, and brevity.

Papal elections continued in various areas of the Apostolic Palace (sometimes the Sistine Chapel) without much incident (with the exception of the conclave of 1799-1800, which took place in Venice due to the threat of Napoleon) until 1823, when it was moved to the Quirinal Palace, the official residence of the popes during the 19th century. It took place in a chapel that, while in terms of artistic decoration is very different from the Sistine Chapel, is of the exact same dimensions. The Pauline Chapel in the Quirinale, not to be confused with Paul III’s Pauline Chapel in the Vatican, was commissioned by Pope Paul V Borghese, and its measurements are the same as the ancient temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, as laid out in the Old Testament (also the model for the Sistine Chapel).

Cappella Paolina, Palazzo Quirinale, Roma

After Rome was captured from the Papal States by the nine-year-old Kingdom of Italy in 1870,  during the papacy of Pius IX, the Quirinal Palace became the residence of the king, and conclave once again returned to the Sistine Chapel. Pope Leo XIII was elected there in 1878, as has every pope since. The election of Pope Pius X in 1903, was the last conclave that was openly influenced by a political leader outside the church. The favorite for pope, Leo XIII's former Secretary of State Cardinal Mariano Rampolla del Tindaro, was vetoed by the Prince-Bishop of Krakow in the name Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria, possibly because of Rampolla's support for the French Third Republic. This was considered scandalous by the cardinals present, but as the King of France, the King of Spain and the Emperor of Austria all had veto power by law, there was nothing they could do.

Pope Pius X Sarto

When eventually elected, Pius X (later to become a saint) took the opportunity to eliminate the power of veto of the heads of state. He went even further to warn that anyone attempting to introduce a veto into conclave would be immediately excommunicated. Since then, as part of the solemn vow  at the beginning of a conclave, all cardinal-electors must swear not to introduce a veto on behalf of a secular monarch. Pius X was the last pope to make major reforms of conclave, consolidating almost all of the previous rules set up by various popes throughout the centuries.

If you made it through this whole post (without falling asleep) I am seriously impressed. There were enough names and dates to make even the most avid history nerd's eyes glaze over. As you well know by now, if it didn't happen at least 100 years ago, I probably haven't heard about it yet. I humbly decline the post of up-to-the-minute correspondent during this exciting papal resignation/conclave period. Head to Patricia Thomas' delightful and informative blog, Mozzarella Mamma for all the breaking Vatican news. She's covering the conclave for the Associated Press, and attends press conferences with the Papal Spokesman, Father Lombardi, every day. If she isn't well informed, no one is. 

However, I will be on smoke watch from the moment conclave begins until those glorious words "Habemus Papam" ring out. Follow me on twitter (@ThePinesOfRome) where I will announce the very minute that white smoke billows so you can high-tail it to St. Peter's or, if you're a bit further away, switch on the telly. In the meantime, stay tuned for my next post, detailing the rituals and rules of conclave. 

I don't know about you, but after that, I need a cup of tea.

Image sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 by author, 6, 7, 8, 9 by author, 10, 11, 12

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