This is the third blog post describing my July trip with my son Alex in Germany and Italy. My last post recounted our two days in Venice. Next stop was Ravenna.
Ravenna, on the Adriatic seacoast, has a complex and fascinating ancient history. In the year 402 C.E., when the city of Mediolanum (today Milan), the capital of the Western Roman Empire, was overrun by a Alaric's Visigothic army, the Roman Emperor Honorius fled eastward to Ravenna. Ravenna then became the final capital of the Roman Empire in the west—and later the capital of the Visigothic and Ostrogothic kingdoms in Italy until the annexation of Ravenna to the Byzantine Empire in 553 C.E.
In those days, Ravenna was on a lagoon in the Po River delta, separated from terra firma by miles of undrained swampland and small malarial islets. It was a port city with an important harbor. To this natural refuge, Honorius added a massive encircling brick wall, a state-of-the-art city fortification. Inside this fortification, Honorius raised chickens as a hobby and “ruled” helplessly as Alaric’s army sacked Rome, and then civil war broke out within the Roman mercenary military establishment.
In those days, Ravenna was on a lagoon in the Po River delta, separated from terra firma by miles of undrained swampland and small malarial islets. It was a port city with an important harbor. To this natural refuge, Honorius added a massive encircling brick wall, a state-of-the-art city fortification. Inside this fortification, Honorius raised chickens as a hobby and “ruled” helplessly as Alaric’s army sacked Rome, and then civil war broke out within the Roman mercenary military establishment.
The Favorites of Honorius, by William Waterhouse. (Wikipedia.)
Alex and I were halfway from Venice to Ravenna by Autostrada when we realized we were missing two important opportunities -- lunch (we found a Famila grocery store) and the back roads. That is to say, the ancient main roads. In mere minutes we discovered secondary and tertiary roads, including a maze of farm lanes connecting the dykes of the modern drainage system. Roads turned to tractor lanes, barely wider than our car, with spindly bridges over deep drainage creeks. Abandoned swaybacked farmhouses of rosy brick sprawled dusty and golden-green under the sun. The roadway swarmed with dragonflies of all sizes. We gradually wandered onto sections of former highway nearly deserted by traffic and reached Ravenna by the back way.
The wall of Honorius still stands in various guises all around Ravenna, frequently attached to later structures.
A large section of Ravenna’s Roman wall was updated by the Venetian Empire into a Renaissance-era fortress, today a city park.
The wall of Honorius was repaired and enlarged by Theodoric, and repaired again in medieval and Renaissance times, when frequent wall repair was the price of survival. In places the overlapping wall repairs are still visible.
The lagoon long ago silted in. That, and the rise of Venice, turned Ravenna into a backwater. The old harbor is now a canal, opposite the railway station.
In most of the cities and towns we saw in Italy, the churches and monuments are from what we could call the Catholic Era, which is still ongoing. Ravenna is different; its classical-era core is dominated by the churches and monuments of the Arian period and the kingdom of the Ostrogoths.
While the great churches of Ravenna have been Catholicized, the chief glory of these churches has always been their Arian/Byzantine architecture, and above all their glass mosaics. These structures survived intact, as a cluster of some of the oldest Christian churches anywhere, because Ravenna became unimportant, lost its wealth, and became harder than ever to get to through the swamps after the Roman drainage systems broke down and the Roman roads were swallowed in the mire. Malaria took hold. All this was certainly very fortunate. For these structures, at least, if not necessarily for the inhabitants.
In most of the cities and towns we saw in Italy, the churches and monuments are from what we could call the Catholic Era, which is still ongoing. Ravenna is different; its classical-era core is dominated by the churches and monuments of the Arian period and the kingdom of the Ostrogoths.
While the great churches of Ravenna have been Catholicized, the chief glory of these churches has always been their Arian/Byzantine architecture, and above all their glass mosaics. These structures survived intact, as a cluster of some of the oldest Christian churches anywhere, because Ravenna became unimportant, lost its wealth, and became harder than ever to get to through the swamps after the Roman drainage systems broke down and the Roman roads were swallowed in the mire. Malaria took hold. All this was certainly very fortunate. For these structures, at least, if not necessarily for the inhabitants.
Ravenna’s Old Gates Are Still Landmarks. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Caffe Teodora, Ravenna. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Late in the Day. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Professional photographers have labored for years to capture the jewel-like quality of the Ravenna mosaics, and failed. Alex and I did the best we could. For a superb job, see the Italy video lectures in the Great Courses lecture series (which my wife and I enjoy via subscription to their streaming service.)
Basilica of San Vitale. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
The Gothic Kingdom in Italy was not particularly barbarous. San Vitale is in many ways a monument to the relative peace and prosperity of Theodoric's reign as King of the Ostrogoths. Construction of San Vitale began in 526, the year of Theodoric's death and six years before the beginning of construction of Hagia Sophia in Constantiople. San Vitale was completed in 547 C.E., as the principal religious monument of the Ostrogothic Kingdom. Its Byzantine glass mosaics are the largest and finest outside Constantinople, or possibly anywhere. The church was the work of Julius Argentarius, a Roman banker and architect who donated 26,000 gold solidi for its construction.
Theodoric achieved a certain fusion of western Roman and eastern Byzantine culture, within the context of the Arian religious tradition of the militaristic and proto-feudal Gothic culture of Central Europe--including protection for Ravenna's Jews. In Theodoric's kingdom, religious harmony prevailed--arguably for the first time in the Christian west and certainly for the last time over the next dozen centuries of on-and-off religious strife.
Very little monumental architecture survives from this period, which alone would make San Vitale a building of immense interest. Argentarius may have based the design on the audience chamber of the Imperial Palace in Constantinople, which no longer exists.
The Gothic Kingdom in Italy was not particularly barbarous. San Vitale is in many ways a monument to the relative peace and prosperity of Theodoric's reign as King of the Ostrogoths. Construction of San Vitale began in 526, the year of Theodoric's death and six years before the beginning of construction of Hagia Sophia in Constantiople. San Vitale was completed in 547 C.E., as the principal religious monument of the Ostrogothic Kingdom. Its Byzantine glass mosaics are the largest and finest outside Constantinople, or possibly anywhere. The church was the work of Julius Argentarius, a Roman banker and architect who donated 26,000 gold solidi for its construction.
Theodoric achieved a certain fusion of western Roman and eastern Byzantine culture, within the context of the Arian religious tradition of the militaristic and proto-feudal Gothic culture of Central Europe--including protection for Ravenna's Jews. In Theodoric's kingdom, religious harmony prevailed--arguably for the first time in the Christian west and certainly for the last time over the next dozen centuries of on-and-off religious strife.
Very little monumental architecture survives from this period, which alone would make San Vitale a building of immense interest. Argentarius may have based the design on the audience chamber of the Imperial Palace in Constantinople, which no longer exists.
Architecturally, San Vitale Is Not a Basilica at All. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
The Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, with Sarcophagi of the Last Roman Emperors.
The Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, across the courtyard from San Vitale, is an older Roman structure. It is a somewhat mysterious building, originally attached to the Church of Santa Croce built in 417 CE as part of the Imperial Palace complex. Santa Croce and the last Roman imperial palace fell to ruins except for this structure, which may have originally been the oratorio of the church before being adapted as Galla Placidia's family mausoleum. Without going into the extreme complexities of the last western emperors and their Visigothic family connections, it is clear enough that the mausoleum contains three sarcophagi. These are traditionally believed to be those of Emperor Constantius III, Galla Placidia's husband; Empress Galla Placidia herself; Emperor Valentinius III, Galla Placidia's son; and her brother, the Emperor Honorius. That is one more emperor than there are sarcophagi and both Galla Placidia and Honorius are also said to have had mausolea in Rome under the current site of St. Peter's. On the other hand, tradition holds that Placidia, or more accurately her embalmed body, was wrapped in her imperial regalia and seated on a throne above the central sarcophagus for more than a millennium. That would account for why four emperors had three sarcophagi. It is safe to say no one is entirely sure.
The Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, across the courtyard from San Vitale, is an older Roman structure. It is a somewhat mysterious building, originally attached to the Church of Santa Croce built in 417 CE as part of the Imperial Palace complex. Santa Croce and the last Roman imperial palace fell to ruins except for this structure, which may have originally been the oratorio of the church before being adapted as Galla Placidia's family mausoleum. Without going into the extreme complexities of the last western emperors and their Visigothic family connections, it is clear enough that the mausoleum contains three sarcophagi. These are traditionally believed to be those of Emperor Constantius III, Galla Placidia's husband; Empress Galla Placidia herself; Emperor Valentinius III, Galla Placidia's son; and her brother, the Emperor Honorius. That is one more emperor than there are sarcophagi and both Galla Placidia and Honorius are also said to have had mausolea in Rome under the current site of St. Peter's. On the other hand, tradition holds that Placidia, or more accurately her embalmed body, was wrapped in her imperial regalia and seated on a throne above the central sarcophagus for more than a millennium. That would account for why four emperors had three sarcophagi. It is safe to say no one is entirely sure.
Galla Placidia's sarcophagus, by tradition, barely visible in this photograph behind the people of today.
Almost inconceivable elegance: mosaics of the mausoleum.
526 C.E. was a fateful year in Ravenna architecture, when one considers the monumental Roman/Gothic mausoleum of King Theodoric. Outwardly it is not so different in form from a traditional Roman mausoleum but its single-stone domed roof, the somewhat brutalist buttresses around the dome, and the interlocking of the stones of the arches are all unique as far as I know. Theodoric's mausoleum was outside the walls, next to the harbor, and may have been a lighthouse as well as a mausoleum. Considering the achievements of Theodoric's kingdom and the rather darker age that followed it, this could almost be called the mausoleum of what might have been, if Arian Christianity had survived as a third path between Greek and Roman Christianity.
526 C.E. was a fateful year in Ravenna architecture, when one considers the monumental Roman/Gothic mausoleum of King Theodoric. Outwardly it is not so different in form from a traditional Roman mausoleum but its single-stone domed roof, the somewhat brutalist buttresses around the dome, and the interlocking of the stones of the arches are all unique as far as I know. Theodoric's mausoleum was outside the walls, next to the harbor, and may have been a lighthouse as well as a mausoleum. Considering the achievements of Theodoric's kingdom and the rather darker age that followed it, this could almost be called the mausoleum of what might have been, if Arian Christianity had survived as a third path between Greek and Roman Christianity.
A Walk to the Old Port Leads to the Mausoleum of Theodoric, and to a Bee.
Back inside the city walls, we found ourselves at the tomb of Dante. Dante Alighieri finished Paradiso in exile in Ravenna, and died there; his tomb is adjacent to the Church of San Pier Maggiore.
“Whoso laments, that we must doff this garb
Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live
Immortally above, he hath not seen
The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower.”
Dante Alighieri, Il Paradiso. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Of frail mortality, thenceforth to live
Immortally above, he hath not seen
The sweet refreshing, of that heav’nly shower.”
Dante Alighieri, Il Paradiso. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Ravenna has long been a city of poets. Writers as diverse as Percy Bysshe Shelley, Oscar Wilde and Marguerite Yourcenar have loved Ravenna. George Gordon Lord Byron lived in Ravenna for two years, pursuing his love affair with Teresa Gamba. He wrote Cain, Marino Faliero, Sardanapalus, The Two Foscari, and parts of Don Juan, The Prophecy of Dante and The Lament of Tasso in Ravenna, while accumulating an arsenal on the Via Cavour and plotting with Teresa's brother Pietra Gamba and the Carbonari to overthrow the Pope of Rome. When the Carbonari scheme of revolt failed, the Gambas fled to Pisa and Lord Byron to Greece.
We found Ravenna rife with comfort and delicious food and wine. Munich, Belluno, Venice, things had been getting almost a little hectic. This was a chance to relax.
Ca' de Ven: A Tasty Spot for Wine Lovers. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
As we left Ravenna--something no reasonable person would want to do--we stopped at the Basilica of Sant' Apollinaris in Classe, consecrated in 549 CE and illuminated with yet more of the astonishing Byzantine glass mosaics. Classe was a strategically important part of the Roman port of Ravenna and is now a silted up archeological site.
Sant'Apollinaris in Classe was yet another architectural donation of the Roman banker and architect mentioned above, Julius Argentarius. It is a true early Romanesque basilica in form, with side arcades and the classic timbered roof. Unlike San Vitale, which is rather dark, Sant'Apollinaris in Classe is brilliantly lit by the sun.
Sant'Apollinaris in Classe: A Noble Basilica. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Byzantine glass mosaic showing St. Apollinaris and his sheep. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
St. Apollinaris was legendarily made the first bishop of Ravenna by St. Peter himself, and performed many miracles prior to his seemingly unnecessary martyrdom. His relics are no longer in his home church. In 856 C.E. the relics were removed from this undefended church to the former Church of Christ Redeemer Inside the Walls, a smaller church dating to 504 C.E. which had been the Arian palace chapel of Theodoric. The former palace basilica still stands and is known today as the Basilica of Sant' Apollinare Nuovo.
St. Apollinaris was legendarily made the first bishop of Ravenna by St. Peter himself, and performed many miracles prior to his seemingly unnecessary martyrdom. His relics are no longer in his home church. In 856 C.E. the relics were removed from this undefended church to the former Church of Christ Redeemer Inside the Walls, a smaller church dating to 504 C.E. which had been the Arian palace chapel of Theodoric. The former palace basilica still stands and is known today as the Basilica of Sant' Apollinare Nuovo.
Having left Ravenna, and its ancient sights, we drove on to the Mediterranean seaside at Mare Vista. This stretch of the Adriatic coast boasts mile after mile after mile of the most inviting beach resorts.
Alex examining seashells.
And there we found Cnidarians, expiring on the sand!
A putative Cnidarian of some sort, wafted ashore on the gentle tides of the Adriatic Sea.
A morning spent wrestling our way through coastal traffic brought us to Rimini, an important city and the original terminus of the Via Flaminia, or Flaminian Way.
Augustan Gate of classical Rimini, known as Ariminum in Roman times. (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
Much can be said about this road, a sine qua non of Roman history. Little did we know that the Via Flaminia would come to haunt our imaginations, as we drove over and under it, pulling off occasionally to drive on it, or to look at broken up scraps from it, on the way from Rimini to Gubbio.
Somewhere on that route, the fate of the Ostrogothic Kingdom was finally settled by the death of Totila, mortally wounded in the Battle of Tagenae as a Byzantine army led by Narses temporarily reconquered northern Italy for the Byzantine Emperor Justinian. The exact location of the battle and the burial place of Totila are both unknown.
Somewhere on that route, the fate of the Ostrogothic Kingdom was finally settled by the death of Totila, mortally wounded in the Battle of Tagenae as a Byzantine army led by Narses temporarily reconquered northern Italy for the Byzantine Emperor Justinian. The exact location of the battle and the burial place of Totila are both unknown.
Totila, by Francesco de' Rossi - Musei Civici di Como, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=23063927
Late in the day we reached Gubbio and parked next to the ruins of the Roman theater, said to have been the second-largest theater in the Roman Empire. In the 1st Century, it was as large as a football stadium and could seat 15,000 people. Later the theater was creatively deconstructed to help build medieval Gubbio.
Gubbio’s Roman theater (Photo by Alex Mawyer.)
We had reached the heart of Umbria. My next post will describe our experiences in the fortified truffle city of Gubbio, and the food of Gubbio.
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