Mining Library Treasures

The cultural and political significance of Rome has made it an important destination of routes throughout the ages. The Via Appia was the first significant road that brought people from far away to the city and vice versa. It diminished the significance of the existing ancient roads, yet also the Via Appia would eventually fade away, to be replaced by other routes and modes of transportation. Today we will look at two rare books that each took a specific road leading to Rome, tracing the ancient footsteps and taking notice of historical sites along the way. They are two monographs, which means that they are two books that are dedicated to a highly specific topic (the respective routes) and present the reader with interesting facts backed up by historical research and relevance. I will first take the time to study each of the books separately, before discussing the relation between them.

 

Della Via Appia

In 1745, scholar and priest Franscesco Maria Pratilli (1689 – 1763) publishes Della Via Appia riconosciuta e descritta da Roma a Brindisi, which covers in high detail the archeological findings along the route, as well as their inscriptions and historical context. It must be noted that the author is  a controversial figure. Some work of his is thought to be a little bit too “creative”, meaning that he might have been involved with the forgery of several historical accounts. No evidence of forgery has been found in this specific book. The book was originally written in 1736 with funding by the cardinal in mind, but when cardinal Corradini (1658 – 1743) passed away, the author had to publish his work with his own funding. For this reason, he also ended up publishing the work in Napoli (instead of Rome). Our copy is dedicated with a handwritten note to a certain Mr. Joannis Pauli Mercantili (see fig. 3), a professor of medicine of whom not much is known.

​

This suggests that the work might have been of use mainly to academics. It is expected that a work of this size was not be meant to be taken during a trip, as will be the case for our second book, but rather be of interest for people around Europe wishing to study the topic at home (or at university). Nonetheless, the work was incredibly influential as it was one of the first erudite works examining the Via Appia (antica). It covers the route from Rome to Brindisi, the main artery of the Via Appia. Book  I covers Rome up to Terracina, Book II Terracina to Capoa, Book III the ancient city of Capoa and Book IV ends in the coastal town of Brindisi. Each of these sections is also preceded by a map of the surrounding area, as can be seen of Book I in figure 2.

 

After trying to study the text with the aid of a translator tool, I was at loss for what Pratilli actually wrote down, as the language was quite dense and elaborate. Luckily, there is a contemporary review available which provides a comprehensive summary of the work. The reviewer notes that Pratilli’s work is incredibly rich and expects a lot from the reader, which is why he takes his time to describe the contents of the work, covering topics such as a history of Roman ministries and the initial building of the Via Appia, paying special attention to Appio Claudio il Cieco (350 - 271 BCE), who requested the building of the road in the first place. The review finishes by highlighting the value of Pratilli’s work:

 

“L’opera present emerita l’estimazione degli uomini dotti, sì perchè ella è molto ben condotta, e riplena d’ottimi lumi conducenti all’ intelligenza dell’antico stato di molti luoghi e città, e sì perchì corredata di molte Carte intagliate in rame, e d’ un copioso ed esattissimo Indice, non lascia cosa da desiderarsi pe ‘l giusto compimento della medesima.”

​

“This work deserves the estimation of learned men, as it is was carried out very well, and sheds great lights onto the intelligence of the ancient state of many places and cities, and because it has many copper plate engraved maps, and of a copious and very accurate index, [therefore] it does not leave anything to be desired in order to be fulfilled.”

 

Before we move on to our other case, let us note the epigraph printed on the front endpaper: “Res ardua est vetustis novitatem dare”, a citation from Pliny the Elder (23 - 79 CE) which has been translated as the following : “It is a difficult task to give the appearance of novelty to old things”, meaning that it is difficult to cast a clear light on the obscured and ancient work.  However, this is exactly what Pratilli did by creating such an erudite work. One could consider this epigraph therefore Pratilli giving himself a pat on the back.

 

Voyage de Civitavecchia à Rome

The route of our second book is mainly based on the (relatively) modern train line from Civitavecchia to Rome, exploring ancient Etruscan and Roman sites. It was the third in a series of railways built by the Cini Railway Company as per request of the papal government back in 1859.  Connecting Rome with Civitavecchia was a vital development as the latter was a port and important hub connecting with the neighboring islands. Our narrator and author travels this route within the first year of its opening. It was a time in which Italian rail travel was in its infancy, therefore not being very efficient or organized yet. However,  in the context of our book it functions as an important thread connecting various sites together, as is illustrated in the map provided in figure 4 (the train line is the line in bold).

​

The book is authored by J. Garau (fl. 1850 – 1853), a lawyer and member of the so-called ‘learned societies’ of France and Italy. This shows us that the author was from an environment of the cultural elite and considering the popularity of Grand Tours in this period, likely it was meant for a similar audience as well. Men of stature were expected to tour around Europe as part of their education, visiting various important historical cities along the way, Rome being one of the most important. The language of the book also shows us that it would be of interest especially for the upper class as it was written in French, the language spoken by aristocracy all around Europe in the nineteenth century. Besides his occupation and membership of the learned societies, not much is known about the author, except for the fact that he also wrote a book called Avenir du chemin de fer de Narbonne à Perpignan. This shows us that the study of railroads is of personal interest to Garau.

 

Let us take a look at the following quote which forms part of the preface:

 

“En traversant aujourd'hui avec rapidité la distance qui sépare Civitavecchia de Rome, entrâinés par la vapeur, cette conquête puissante de notre moderne civilisation, ne semble-t-il pas qu'au roulement prolongé du train sur les rails, quelque ombre jalouse de ces conquérants du vieux monde doit venir se dresser furieuse  d'avoir été troublée dans son sommeil de plusieurs siècles.......?

Un chemin de fer qui sillonne la terre la plus classique de l'universe est un faint en lui-même aussi piquant que fertile en réflexions philosophiques.”

​

“As we nowadays bridge the distance between Civitavecchia and Rome, driven by steam, this powerful conquest of our modern civilization, does it not seem that the continued rolling of the train on the rails has an air of jealousy? Jealous of these conquerors of the old world arising furiously after remaining undisturbed for several centuries …..?

A railroad that crisscrosses the most classic earth of the universe is a faint yet also sharp and fertile in philosophical reflections.”

 

This immediately shows us where this book is different from the work of Pratilli: It is personal and self-aware, the visitor is made visible within the narrative of the book. The style of the book is very immersive and filled with personal accounts of the author, such as his group being thoroughly examined by customs when arriving in Civitavecchia by boat. This makes the work a highly accessible read. Yet it is perhaps just as rich in historical information as Pratilli, not only describing all significant archeological sites along the way, but also going into the detail of their historical context and therefore relevance. A map in which all sites are highlighted and the route is drawn in, aids this. This makes Voyage de Civitavecchia à Rome not only an incredibly useful guidebook for peers wishing to follow in the footsteps of Garau, but it might have also been an equally entertaining read for the ones staying back home, because of its immersive quality.

 

The previous analysis of the way Garau’s work differs from Pratilli is also told by the form of the book itself. While a rich man would perhaps be able to pack Pratilli’s book into one of his suitcases, Garau’s work is a pocketable format. This transforms Pratilli’s work into a reference book, while Garau’s work is clearly a travel guide. Interestingly, Voyage de Civitavecchia à Rome does not have many illustrations, which were a major selling point for guidebooks of this character. In combination with the style in which the book was written, we can explain this if the work might have doubled as a novel. As it is a cheap edition, it might have been a book interesting for middle-class members wishing to fantasize about romantic histories not necessarily within their reach to visit.

 

The stories books tell

The philosophical analysis of Garau’s travels quoted earlier is a good starting point for bringing the two pieces in dialogue with one another. While Pratilli’s work distances the present from the past, the past being the object worthy of study, Garau brings together the contemporary and the past, a synthesis of historiography. It is self-aware, in the sense that the book does not ignore the fact that the steps taken by the contemporary traveler are fundamentally different from the roman footsteps they trace. Many ways lead to Rome. As the ancient city has been transformed to a place of pilgrimage as well as historical research and appreciation, interest in the city has never really gone away.

While the books are similar in the fact that they cover similar topics: sites of interest along the route to Rome and their history, they show a shift. Pratilli’s work is meticulous, extensive yet perhaps more dry, while Garau’s work has a more personal touch.  

 

Conclusion

We find newer ways to travel. If one wanted to visit the Via Appia now, one could even do it from home. We trace the paths of our ancestors, still today.  As for the Etruscan roads, most were either incorporated in the subsequent Roman roads, or vanished all together. Yet the buildings still remain, as does the train that traverses the area. One could even buy the book for a mere 150 euros and follow in the footsteps of monsieur Garau. Taking these books as our guidance, we can connect the two histories with the present: at once we embed not only the knowledge of the ancient Romans, but also the visions of these eighteenth and nineteenth century scholars, which had their curiosity piqued back then as many of still are, today.