Rome: The Eternal City

Part I

The story begins with Romulus and Remus. Palatine Hill was under the control of Romulus, whereas his twin brother Remus was the leader of the village on Aventine Hill. In 753 B.C.E., Remus jumped over the walls of Romulus and was killed by his brother, resulting in the birth of Rome. 

As the story was being told, I grounded myself and tried to take everything in. After all, I was standing in the Roman Forum, which I thought was the birthplace of Rome. That is until my surreal moment was brought to a rude end and I was informed that the actual birthplace of Rome was off in the distance, near the Circus Maximus, and completely unexcavated. 

“What we’re standing in was swampland during the times of Romulus and Remus.”

Never mind, then.

I took solace in the fact that the place I was standing was a mere two hundred years younger than that of the original Roman Forum. I looked around again and the weight of the space’s historical significance fell upon me once more. All around me were the remains of Roman temples and early Christian churches, homes and roads. To one side, there were the famous arches of the Forum; to the other, the House of the Vestal Virgins loomed. 

As we walked, a structure caught my attention. It was a Christian church, built within the pillars of the 2nd-century Roman Temple of Antonino and Faustina. The building was tall, with a large door far above the ground level. It was then clear to me that the physical depths of this place rivaled the historical depths. 

This must have been a grueling excavation. 

I recalled a visit I had paid during my free time to a small archaeological site near the Trevi Fountain. The Vicus Caprarius was a glimpse into a smaller, less intimidating Rome. The site exhibits restored access to the Virgin Aqueduct, the same water that feeds the Trevi fountain, which would have supplied the area’s residences with water. The walls tell a familiar story. The site is an example of reconstruction and reuse, as the original structures were independent units, a sort of ancient apartment complex, that were combined and transformed into an impressive domus in the fourth century. Rome runs deep, in every sense of the phrase.

The tendency of humans to reuse, rebuild, and forget will always leave more to be uncovered. What else lies beneath the surface? How deep does it go? What and who have we lost to time?