The Lost Catacomb (7 page)
“
By
the way,
”
Bruno
interjected, turning to Nicola, "evidence from tomb inscriptions points to
the active role that women played in their communities, including that of
mater
synagogus
, or mother of the synagogue.
There's a famous tomb in the catacomb of Monteverde which actually has a
thirteen-line poem in dactylic hexameter engraved on the plaque of a Jewish
woman named Regina.
But that's an
exception, rather than the rule.
”
By this time, Nicola was starting to feel more enthusiastic
about the catacomb as a whole, and she followed Fossore eagerly as they turned
left at the end of the long passageway, entering a large crypt with two
interconnected pagan rooms, elaborately decorated with multi-colored peacocks,
pairs of fish, and brightly painted cherubs against a pale wash of creamy white
walls.
“
Finally,
”
Nicola said aloud in
amazement as she gazed around her, quickly lowering her voice to an embarrassed
whisper as she turned to Bruno and added,
“
I was afraid we weren't going to see anything that
wasn't stylized or monochromatic.
”
She quickly added some more sketches to her notebook and then
followed Fossore as he ushered them out of the crypt towards an uneven,
door-sized opening at the end of a narrow corridor that veered off the main
passageway.
The uniformity of the
fake
loculi
in the tunnel and the large jagged hole in the wall scarcely
prepared her for what she now saw.
“
Dio
,
”
she gasped in
disbelief over and over again as they entered the disputed
hypogeum
, a
crypt unlike any she had ever seen or scarcely imagined. The light from the
oxy-lamps bounced back and forth on the richly frescoed surface of walls whose
colors were vivid and bright, untouched by the passage of time and glowing with
a burnished intensity that was nearly alive.
Mirror-like sections of gold leaf had
been applied between the intricate wall paintings, dazzling Nicola's eyes and
shocking her into a stunned silence.
Astounded by the incredible beauty of the room
—
whose frescoes
were so complex she couldn't imagine how she would ever be able to analyze them
—
Nicola stood
spellbound, unable to move or speak.
It was as if the crypt were somehow pulsating with an energy all its
own, with some sort of inscrutable power that had ensnared her, that would not
release her from its grasp until she had revealed its secrets and laid bare the
mysteries of its existence.
Never before had she felt this thrill of imminent discovery,
this sense of barely containable excitement
—
this certainty that she was about to find
herself at the center of a drama whose final act was yet to unfold.
Pulling herself together, she turned to Bruno, who was
looking around the crypt in open-mouthed astonishment, and said,
“
I don't know about you,
Bruno, but I want to stay here.
Signor Fossore can go home.
We can find our way out later on our own.
”
Bruno and Nicola had now been in the new
hypogeum
for
nearly two hours.
Fossore had left
them there without argument, handing them a well-marked map of the tunnel
network.
The promised photographic
equipment was there, together with a table full of flat scrapers, brushes,
whiskbrooms, tweezers, latex gloves, and various antiscaling agents and
solvents.
Several collapsible
stools and emergency lighting stood nearby.
Recovering from their initial shock at the opulence of the
crypt, they were soon able to differentiate between distinct sections of the
walls, where artistic theme and color varied with the elements depicted in the
frescoes.
Unlike the burial
chambers elsewhere in the Vigna Randanini, this
hypogeum
had used every
available inch of space for its decorations, including the ceiling, which had
an apparently random pattern of gold stars set against a deep cerulean sky.
Closer examination of the walls revealed precious artifacts
—
some
large, some small
—
that were cemented into the spaces between a group of
sealed
loculi
, all but camouflaged by the intricate frescoes.
Two large, unusually ornate sarcophagi
occupied adjacent niches, surrounded by wall paintings whose intense hues
distracted the eye from the stone coffins themselves.
For most of the two hours, Nicola and Bruno had simply
walked slowly around the chamber, marveling at what they saw and taking copious
notes on the general implications of the iconography and its possible
significance.
Only after a second
visit would they attempt to begin piecing together some actual working theories
about its provenance.
Many of the elements in the crypt were typical of the usual
mix of Christian and pagan motifs found in other catacombs in Rome and its
environs.
These included doves,
peacocks, and the legendary phoenix, along with palm trees interspersed with
crowns, as well as anchors symbolizing man's ultimate arrival at the port of
the afterlife following the dark and uncertain journey of death.
On one of the walls there was a large painting of a golden
fish, or
ichthus
in Greek, forming an acrostic that translated as
“
Jesus
Christ.
”
Beside it
there was a monogram comprised of an intertwined Chi, or
X
, and a Rho, or
P
,
signifying the Greek word
Christos
.
Trompe l
’
oeil
marble
architectural elements were interlaced with generic floral motifs typical of
Jewish catacombs, representing the Garden of Eden.
Both Nicola and Bruno noted that there was no evidence of a
cruciform layout to the room, so it seemed clear that this particular
hypogeum
had not been intended, at least when it was initially quarried, to serve as an
underground chapel for the worship of saints or martyrs.
“
Score one
for the Marchesa,
”
Nicola
commented dryly, glancing at Bruno for confirmation.
On the wall near one of the two sarcophagi was a richly
painted fresco of a woman, seated near what appeared to be a large box, shaped
like a sarcophagus.
The box was
adorned by a pair of cherubs, and a seven-branched candelabrum rested on
it.
A white marble plaque above the
niche bore the letters
M
and
R,
with the word v
irgininun
below
it in elegant calligraphy, meaning
pure and virginal, a term generally
used on Jewish tombs to indicate an unmarried woman.
There were no dates, no epitaph, nothing
to indicate the precise identity or possible occupation of the deceased.
Nicola and Bruno now turned their attention to the adjacent
tomb, which had no accompanying plaque.
It was surrounded, however, by an
elaborate fresco that, on closer examination, included a crucifix intertwined
with a Star of David and two other interlocking, right-angled triangular shapes
at its center.
“
What do
you suppose that could be?
”
Bruno
asked, pointing to the strange triangles.
“
It seems to mimic the geometry of the Star of David, but
other than that, I
’
m not sure I see a connection.
”
“
I know,
”
Nicola
said.
“
Doesn
’
t it
remind you of a papal miter?
You
know, the tall double peaked headdress worn by popes throughout the
centuries?
And look at what
’
s been
painted nearby
—
a square with two open doors, topped by another triangle,
with two circles etched in the center.
What do you think that could be?
”
“
That
’
s easy
enough,
”
Bruno
replied.
“
That
represents the Holy Ark found in ancient synagogues. The two circles are meant
to symbolize the Torah scrolls.
”
“
I see,
”
she said
slowly, as she considered this suggestion.
“
I guess
it's a good thing that both of us are here, given our different religious
backgrounds.
You have to admit that
this is really strange,
”
she
added, her brows knitted together in puzzlement as she looked at him.
“
It
’
s almost as if there
’
s a deliberate mix of Christian and Jewish
iconography.
I wonder if the people
buried here were converts
—
either to Judaism or to Christianity.
”
“
You know,
you might be right.
That
’
s an
intriguing possibility,
”
Bruno
replied thoughtfully.
“
Though I
’
m not sure how we can figure out which religion they might
have converted from and then to.
No wonder the catacomb ownership is being contested.
I
’
ve never seen this kind of unique combination of Jewish and
Christian elements before.
”
He now took a detailed series of photographs of the two
frescoes, some from a distance, some as close-ups, while Nicola sketched them
in laborious detail, in case there was a problem with the camera equipment.
“
I
’
m a big
believer in Murphy
’
s Law,
”
she
remarked.
Embedded in the wall bearing the two main tombs with their
mysterious frescoes were several glass and ceramic containers, as well as
dolls, statuettes, and coins.
The most beautiful artifacts, however, were two very fine specimens of
gold glass bases, cemented symmetrically in between the
loculi
in which
the two stone coffins rested.
Gold glasses were a luxury item to be found only in the
households of the wealthiest families in Rome.
They had a circular base made of etched
gold, which was sandwiched between protective layers of glass and divided into
two semicircular fields, each with its own pictorial design.
The glasses were used primarily
for decorative purposes and only occasionally as actual drinking vessels.
But as grave markers, the bases were regarded
as protective icons, meant to guard the dead from evil spirits.
“
Bruno,
”
Nicola
called out excitedly, tapping him on the shoulder,
“
look at
this.
I
’
ve never
seen this type of design on a gold glass before, and believe me, I
’
ve
examined scores of these on my visits to Rome."
He turned towards her and looked carefully.
One of the etchings on the base of the
first glass portrayed a large, elaborately columned building, while the other
depicted a candelabrum and a crucifix.
The second glass bore a completely different, but equally mystifying
design.
One half of the base seemed
to portray long rows of marching figures, dressed in simple short togas, while
the other half bore engravings of trumpets and lyres, with what appeared to be
a Star of David at their center, intertwined with a fish.
“
You're
right.
This
is
very
peculiar,
”
Bruno
commented after a moment.
“
I
’
ve never
come across anything like it before.
It seems to repeat the Judaeo-Christian motifs, or at least the
startling combination that we
’
re finding in the frescoes.
”
He paused and then suggested tentatively,
“
You know,
the truth is, that for someone with a Jewish background, maybe it
’
s really
not that difficult to decipher some of these symbols.
”
“
What do
you mean?
”
Nicola
asked.
“
Well, look,
”
Bruno
began to explain.
“
The
candelabrum or
Menorah
is a ceremonial object dating back to the Holy
Temple in Jerusalem.
It had seven
branches and was lit on a daily basis as part of the priestly ritual.
Later, after the miracle of
Hanukkah
”—
and
here he looked at her inquiringly
—“
you remember, when one small cruse of oil lasted for eight
days, after the Maccabees purified the Temple
—
it was
changed into an eight-branched icon, symbolizing the eight days of the holiday,
with an added receptacle from which the others were lit, for a total of nine
branches.
“
What
’
s
interesting in this etching,
”
he
said, pointing to the gold glass,
“
is that the candelabrum has seven branches, not nine, which
leads me to suspect that it
’
s supposed to represent the original
Menorah
in the
Temple, and not the one that was used on
Hanukkah
.
And by the way, the candelabrum in the
fresco over there is identical.
It
also has only seven branches.
”
“
Okay,
”
Nicola
replied,
“
but what about the crucifix that appears alongside it?
What connection could there possibly
be?
And what do you make of
the building with all those columns on the other side of the base?
Could it be a palace or a pagan temple
of some sort?
I mean, could we have
a mixture of pagan, Christian, and Jewish elements?
After all, the original catacombs here
at the Vigna Randanini started out as a pagan underground cemetery before they
were converted into a Jewish crypt.
”
“
Truthfully,
I
’
m not
sure,
”
Bruno
answered.
“
We need to
think about it.
And we haven
’
t even
begun to address the issue of the second gold glass base.
The marching figures, the musical
instruments, the Star of David, the fish.
The star is clearly Jewish, and the fish obviously represents
Christ.
But as for the rest .
.
.
I have some ideas, but I
want to mull them over and check some references at home.
