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STREETS IN TIMGAD
From a photograph.
STREETS IN TIMGAD
From a photo.
ANCIENT TOWN-PLANNING
By
F. HAVERFIELD
Oxford
at The Clarendon Press
1913
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
London • Edinburgh • Glasgow • New York
Toronto • Melbourne • Bombay
HUMPHREY MILFORD
Publisher to the University
PREFACE
The following pages are an enlargement of a paper read to the University of London as the Creighton Lecture for 1910, and also submitted in part to the London Conference on Town-planning in the same year.
The following pages expand on a paper presented to the University of London as the Creighton Lecture for 1910 and also partially submitted to the London Conference on Town Planning that same year.
The original lecture was written as a scholar's contribution to a modern movement. It looked on town-planning as one of those new methods of social reform, which stand in somewhat sharp contrast with the usual aims of political parties and parliaments. The latter concern mainly the outward and public life of men as fellow-citizens in a state; they involve such problems as Home Rule, Disestablishment, Protection. The newer ideals centre round the daily life of human beings in their domestic environment. Men and women—or rather, women and men—have begun to demand that the health and housing and food and comfort of mankind, and much else that not long ago seemed to lie outside the scope of legislation, should be treated with as close attention and logic and intelligence as any of the older and more conventional problems of politicians. They will not leave even the tubes of babies' feeding-bottles to an off-hand opportunism.
The original lecture was written as a scholar's contribution to a modern movement. It viewed town planning as a new way to drive social reform, which contrasts sharply with the typical goals of political parties and parliaments. The latter mainly focus on the public life of citizens in a state, dealing with issues like Home Rule, Disestablishment, and Protection. The newer ideals revolve around the everyday lives of people in their homes. Women and men have started to demand that issues like health, housing, food, and comfort—along with many other matters that not long ago seemed outside the reach of legislation—be addressed with as much attention, logic, and intelligence as the more traditional problems politicians tackle. They won't even allow the details of babies' feeding bottles to be left to casual decisions.
Among these newer efforts town-planning is one of the better known. Most of us now admit that if some scores of dwellings have to be run up for working-men or city-clerks—or even for University teachers in North Oxford—they can and should be planned with regard to the health and convenience and occupations of their probable tenants. Town-planning has taken rank as an art; it is sometimes styled a science and University professorships are named after it; in the London Conference of 1910 it got its deductio in forum or at least its first dance. But it is still young and its possibilities undefined. Its name is apt to be applied to all sorts of building-schemes, and little attempt is made to assign it any specific sense. It is only slowly making its way towards the recognized method and the recognized principles which even an art requires. Here, it seemed, a student of ancient history might proffer parallels from antiquity, and especially from the Hellenistic and Roman ages, which somewhat resemble the present day in their care for the well-being of the individual.
Among these newer efforts, town planning is one of the better-known ones. Most of us now agree that if several homes need to be built for working-class people, city clerks, or even university teachers in North Oxford, they can and should be designed with the health, convenience, and activities of their future residents in mind. Town planning has become recognized as an art; it's sometimes referred to as a science, and universities have positions named after it. At the London Conference of 1910, it got its deductio in forum or at least its first introduction. However, it's still in its early stages, and its potential remains unclear. The term is often used to describe various building projects, and there is little effort to define it specifically. It's only gradually moving towards the established methods and principles that any art requires. Here, it seemed, a student of ancient history might draw comparisons from antiquity, especially from the Hellenistic and Roman periods, which had similarities to today in their focus on individual well-being.
In enlarging the lecture I have tried not only to preserve this point of view, but also to treat the subject in a manner useful to classical scholars and historians. The details of Greek and Roman town-planning are probably little known to many who study Greek and Roman life, and though they have often been incidentally discussed,[1] they have never been collected. The material, however, is plentiful, and it illuminates vividly the character and meaning of that city-life which, in its different forms, was a vital element in both the Greek and the Roman world. Even our little towns of Silchester and Caerwent in Roman Britain become more intelligible by its aid. The Roman student gains perhaps more than the Hellenist from this inquiry, since the ancient Roman builder planned more regularly and the modern Roman archaeologist has dug more widely. But admirable German excavations at Priene, Miletus, and elsewhere declare that much may be learnt about Greek towns and in Greek lands.
In expanding this lecture, I've aimed not just to keep this perspective but also to address the topic in a way that's helpful for classical scholars and historians. Many people studying Greek and Roman life might not be familiar with the details of Greek and Roman town planning, and while these have often been mentioned in passing, they have never been compiled. However, there is plenty of material available, and it vividly sheds light on the character and significance of city life, which was a crucial aspect of both the Greek and Roman worlds in its various forms. Even our small towns like Silchester and Caerwent in Roman Britain become clearer with this information. The Roman student might benefit more from this investigation than the Hellenist, as ancient Roman builders planned their cities more systematically and modern Roman archaeologists have excavated more extensively. Nevertheless, impressive German excavations in places like Priene, Miletus, and elsewhere show that there is much to learn about Greek towns and in Greek regions.
The task of collecting and examining these details is not easy. It needs much local knowledge and many local books, all of which are hard to come by. Here, as in most branches of Roman history, we want a series of special inquiries into the fortunes of individual Roman towns in Italy and the provinces, carried out by men who combine two things which seldom go together, scientific and parochial knowledge. But a body of evidence already waits to be used, and though its discussion may lead—as it has led me—into topographical minutiae, where completeness and certainty are too often unattainable and errors are fatally easy, my results may nevertheless contain some new suggestions and may help some future workers.
Collecting and examining these details is challenging. It requires a lot of local knowledge and access to many local books, which are not easy to find. Here, as in most areas of Roman history, we need a series of focused investigations into the experiences of specific Roman towns in Italy and the provinces, conducted by people who possess both scientific and local knowledge—two qualities that rarely coexist. However, there is already a body of evidence ready to be explored, and while discussing it may lead me—like it has before—into detailed topographical issues where completeness and certainty are often out of reach and mistakes can easily happen, my findings may still offer new ideas and assist future researchers.
I have avoided technical terms as far as I could, and that not merely in the interests of the general reader. Such terms are too often both ugly and unnecessary. When a foreign scholar writes of a Roman town as 'scamnirt' or 'strigirt', it is hard to avoid the feeling that this is neither pleasant nor needful. Perhaps it is not even accurate, as I shall point out below. I have accordingly tried to make my text as plain as possible and to confine technicalities to the footnotes.
I have tried to avoid using technical terms as much as possible, not just for the sake of the general reader. These terms are often both unattractive and unnecessary. When a foreign scholar describes a Roman town as 'scamnirt' or 'strigirt', it’s hard not to feel that this is neither appealing nor needed. It might not even be accurate, as I will explain later. Therefore, I have aimed to make my text as straightforward as possible and to keep the technical details in the footnotes.
F.H.
F.H.
CONTENTS
- LIST OF PLANS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
- TABLE OF MEASURES
- 1. PRELIMINARY REMARKS ON ANCIENT TOWN-PLANNING
- 2. GREEK TOWN-PLANNING. THE ORIGINS: BABYLON
- 3. GREEK TOWN-PLANNING. FIRST EFFORTS
- 4. GREEK TOWN-PLANNING. THE MACEDONIAN AGE
- 5. ITALY. THE ORIGINS
- 6. ITALY. THE LATE REPUBLIC AND EMPIRE
- 7. ITALIAN TOWNS
- 8. ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWNS. I
- 9. ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWNS. II
- 10. ROMAN BUILDING LAWS
- 11. THE SEQUEL
- APPENDIX. TOWN-PLANNING IN CHINA
- INDEX
LIST OF PLANS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
(For precise references to sources see the various footnotes.)
(For precise references to sources see the various footnotes.)
For the loan of blocks I am indebted to the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (fig. 21), to the German Imperial Archaeological Institute (fig. 9), to the Royal Geographical Society (fig. 36), and to the Royal Institute of British Architects and the Editors of the Transactions of the Town-Planning Conference, 1911 (figs. 7, 8, 17, 30, 32, 35). Fig. 11 is from Mr. T.E. Peet's Stone and Bronze Ages in Italy. The other 26 blocks have been prepared for this volume.
For the loan of the images, I owe thanks to the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (fig. 21), the German Imperial Archaeological Institute (fig. 9), the Royal Geographical Society (fig. 36), and the Royal Institute of British Architects, along with the Editors of the Transactions of the Town-Planning Conference, 1911 (figs. 7, 8, 17, 30, 32, 35). Fig. 11 is from Mr. T.E. Peet's Stone and Bronze Ages in Italy. The other 26 images have been prepared for this volume.
TABLE OF MEASURES
The following figures may be found convenient by readers who wish to take special account of the dimensions cited in the following pages, and may also help them to correct any errors which I have unwittingly admitted.
The following figures may be useful for readers who want to pay particular attention to the dimensions mentioned in the coming pages and may also assist them in correcting any mistakes that I may have inadvertently included.
1 Roman foot = 0.296 metres = 0.97 English feet.
For practical purposes 100 Roman feet = 97 English feet.
1 Roman foot = 0.296 meters = 0.97 English feet.
For practical purposes, 100 Roman feet = 97 English feet.
1 Iugerum = 120 x 240 Roman feet = 116.4 x 233.8 English feet.
For practical purposes a Iugerum may be taken to be rather over 2/3 of an acre and rather over ¼ of a hectare, and more exactly 2523.3 sq. metres.
1 Iugerum = 120 x 240 Roman feet = 116.4 x 233.8 English feet.
For practical purposes, a Iugerum can be considered to be just over 2/3 of an acre and a bit more than ¼ of a hectare, and more precisely 2523.3 sq. meters.
1 Metre = 1.09 English yards, a trifle less than 40 ins. 402.5 metres equal a quarter of a mile.
1 meter = 1.09 English yards, slightly less than 40 inches. 402.5 meters equals a quarter of a mile.
1 Hectare (10000 sq. metres) = 2.47 acres (11955 sq. yds.).
1 Hectare (10,000 sq. meters) = 2.47 acres (11,955 sq. yards).
1 Acre = nearly 69½ x 69½ yds. (208.7 ft. square) = 4840 sq. yds.
1 Acre = about 69½ x 69½ yards (208.7 ft. square) = 4840 square yards.
Town-planning—the art of laying out towns with due care for the health and comfort of inhabitants, for industrial and commercial efficiency, and for reasonable beauty of buildings—is an art of intermittent activity. It belongs to special ages and circumstances. For its full unfolding two conditions are needed. The age must be one in which, whether through growth, or through movements of population, towns are being freely founded or freely enlarged, and almost as a matter of course attention is drawn to methods of arranging and laying out such towns. And secondly, the builders of these towns must have wit enough to care for the well-being of common men and the due arrangement of ordinary dwellings. That has not always happened. In many lands and centuries—in ages where civilization has been tinged by an under-current of barbarism—one or both of these conditions have been absent. In Asia during much of its history, in early Greece, in Europe during the first half of the Middle Ages, towns have consisted of one or two dominant buildings, temple or church or castle, of one or two processional avenues for worshippers at sacred festivals, and a little adjacent chaos of tortuous lanes and squalid houses. Architects have devised beautiful buildings in such towns. But they have not touched the chaos or treated the whole inhabited area as one unit. Town-planning has been here unknown.[2]
Town planning—the art of designing towns with care for the health and comfort of residents, for effective industry and commerce, and for a certain aesthetic appeal in buildings—is an art that occurs sporadically. It belongs to specific times and situations. For it to thrive, two conditions are necessary. First, the time must be one where towns are either being founded or expanded freely, drawing attention to how these towns are arranged and laid out. Second, the builders of these towns must possess the insight to consider the well-being of everyday people and the proper organization of common homes. Unfortunately, this has not always been the case. In many regions and eras—in times when civilization has been influenced by an underlying sense of barbarism—one or both of these conditions have been lacking. In Asia throughout much of its history, in early Greece, and in Europe during the first half of the Middle Ages, towns consisted of one or two prominent structures, like temples or churches or castles, with a couple of main streets for worshippers during sacred festivals, surrounded by a chaotic mix of narrow streets and run-down houses. Architects have created beautiful buildings in such towns, but they have not addressed the chaos or viewed the entire inhabited area as a cohesive whole. Town planning has been nonexistent here.[2]
In other periods towns have been founded in large numbers and full-grown or nearly full-grown, to furnish homes for multitudes of common men, and their founders have built them on some plan or system. One such period is, of course, our own. Within the last half-century towns have arisen all over Europe and America. They are many in number. They are large in area. Most of them have been born almost full-grown; some have been established complete; others have developed abruptly out of small villages; elsewhere, additions huge enough to form separate cities have sprung up beside towns already great. Throughout this development we can trace a tendency to plan, beginning with the unconscious mechanical arrangements of industrial cities or suburbs and ending in the conscious efforts of to-day.
In different times, towns have been established in large numbers and are often fully developed or nearly complete, providing homes for many ordinary people, with their founders following some kind of plan or system. One such time is our own. In the last fifty years, towns have popped up all over Europe and America. There are many of them, and they cover large areas. Most have emerged almost fully formed; some have been created as complete entities, while others have rapidly grown out of small villages. In some places, significant expansions have occurred next to already large towns, creating separate cities. Throughout this growth, we can see a movement towards planning, starting with the unintentional mechanical setups of industrial cities or suburbs and progressing to the deliberate efforts we see today.
If we consider their size and their number together, these new European and American towns surpass anything that the world has yet seen. But, save in respect of size, the process of founding or enlarging towns is no new thing. In the old world, alike in the Greek lands round the eastern Mediterranean and in the wide empire of Rome, urban life increased rapidly at certain periods through the establishment of towns almost full-grown. The earliest towns of Greece and Italy were, through sheer necessity, small. They could not grow beyond the steep hill-tops which kept them safe, or house more inhabitants than their scanty fields could feed.[3] But the world was then large; new lands lay open to those who had no room at home, and bodies of willing exiles, keeping still their custom of civil life, planted new towns throughout the Mediterranean lands. The process was extended by state aid. Republics or monarchs founded colonies to extend their power or to house their veterans, and the results were equally towns springing up full-grown in southern Europe and, western Asia and even northern Africa. So too in remoter regions. Obscure evidence from China suggests that there also in early times towns were planted and military colonies were sent to outlying regions on somewhat the same methods as were used by the Greeks and Romans.
If we look at their size and number together, these new towns in Europe and America are unlike anything the world has ever seen. However, apart from their size, the creation or expansion of towns isn’t a new concept. In the ancient world, both in the Greek regions around the eastern Mediterranean and in the vast Roman Empire, urban life grew quickly at certain times through the establishment of towns that were almost fully developed. The earliest towns in Greece and Italy were, out of necessity, small. They couldn't expand beyond the steep hilltops that provided safety, nor could they accommodate more people than their limited fields could support. [3] But the world at that time was vast; new lands were available to those without space at home, and groups of willing exiles, who maintained their civil customs, founded new towns across the Mediterranean region. This process was further supported by government assistance. Republics or monarchs established colonies to expand their influence or to settle their veterans, resulting in towns emerging fully formed in southern Europe, western Asia, and even northern Africa. The same happened in more distant areas. Limited evidence from China suggests that, in ancient times, towns were also established there, and military colonies were sent to remote areas using methods somewhat similar to those of the Greeks and Romans.
Even under less kindly conditions, the art has not been wholly dormant. Special circumstances or special men have called it into brief activity. The 'bastides' and the 'villes neuves' of thirteenth-century France were founded at a particular period and under special circumstances, and, brief as the period was and governed by military urgencies, they were laid out on a more or less definite plan (p. 143). The streets designed by Wood at Bath about 1735, by Craig at Edinburgh about 1770, by Grainger at Newcastle about 1835, show what individual genius could do at favourable moments. But such instances, however interesting in themselves, are obviously less important than the larger manifestations of town-planning in Greece and Rome.
Even in less favorable conditions, the art hasn't been completely inactive. Unique circumstances or exceptional individuals have sparked it into short-lived activity. The ‘bastides’ and ‘villes neuves’ of thirteenth-century France were established during a specific time and under unique conditions, and while the period was brief and driven by military needs, they were laid out according to a fairly clear plan (p. 143). The streets designed by Wood in Bath around 1735, by Craig in Edinburgh around 1770, and by Grainger in Newcastle around 1835 demonstrate what individual talent could achieve during favorable times. However, these examples, while interesting, are obviously less significant than the broader instances of town planning seen in Greece and Rome.
In almost all cases, the frequent establishment of towns has been accompanied by the adoption of a definite principle of town-planning, and throughout the principle has been essentially the same. It has been based on the straight line and the right angle. These, indeed, are the marks which sunder even the simplest civilization from barbarism. The savage, inconsistent in his moral life, is equally inconsistent, equally unable to 'keep straight', in his house-building and his road-making. Compare, for example, a British and a Roman road. The Roman road ran proverbially direct; even its few curves were not seldom formed by straight lines joined together. The British road was quite different. It curled as fancy dictated, wandered along the foot or the scarp of a range of hills, followed the ridge of winding downs, and only by chance stumbled briefly into straightness. Whenever ancient remains show a long straight line or several correctly drawn right angles, we may be sure that they date from a civilized age.
In almost all cases, the frequent establishment of towns has come with a clear approach to town planning, and this approach has basically been the same throughout time. It’s been centered around straight lines and right angles. These features, in fact, are what separate even the simplest civilizations from barbarism. The primitive, inconsistent in his moral life, is also inconsistent and unable to “stay straight” in his building and road-making. For instance, compare a British road to a Roman road. The Roman road was famously direct; even its few curves were often made up of joined straight sections. The British road was quite different. It curled however it pleased, meandered alongside a range of hills, followed the ridge of twisting downs, and only occasionally achieved straightness by chance. Whenever ancient remains show a long straight line or several correctly drawn right angles, we can be certain that they are from a civilized era.
In general, ancient town-planning used not merely the straight line and the right angle but the two together. It tried very few experiments involving other angles. Once or twice, as at Rhodes (pp. 31, 81), we hear of streets radiating fan-fashion from a common centre, like the gangways of an ancient theatre or the thoroughfares of modern Karlsruhe, or that Palma Nuova, founded by Venice in 1593 to defend its north-eastern boundaries, which was shaped almost like a starfish. But, as a rule, the streets ran parallel or at right angles to each other and the blocks of houses which they enclosed were either square or oblong.
In general, ancient town planning didn't just use straight lines and right angles but combined the two. It experimented very little with other angles. A couple of times, like in Rhodes (pp. 31, 81), we hear about streets spreading out like a fan from a central point, similar to the layout of an ancient theater or the streets of modern Karlsruhe, or Palma Nuova, established by Venice in 1593 to protect its northeastern borders, which was designed almost like a starfish. However, most of the time, the streets ran parallel or at right angles to each other, and the blocks of houses they formed were usually square or rectangular.
Much variety is noticeable, however, in details. Sometimes the outline of the ancient town was square or almost square, the house-blocks were of the same shape, and the plan of the town was indistinguishable from a chess-board. Or, instead of squares, oblong house-blocks formed a pattern not strictly that of a chess-board but geometrical and rectangular. Often the outline of the town was irregular and merely convenient, but the streets still kept, so far as they could, to a rectangular plan. Sometimes, lastly, the rectangular planning was limited to a few broad thoroughfares, while the smaller side-streets, were utterly irregular. Other variations may be seen in the prominence granted or refused to public and especially to sacred buildings. In some towns full provision was made for these; ample streets with stately vistas led up to them, and open spaces were left from which they could be seen with advantage. In others there were neither vistas nor open spaces nor even splendid buildings.
There's a lot of variety in the details, though. Sometimes, the layout of the ancient town was square or nearly square, with the blocks of houses shaped the same way, making the town look like a chessboard. Other times, instead of squares, the blocks were rectangular, creating a pattern that wasn't exactly like a chessboard but still geometric and rectangular. Often, the town's outline was irregular and just based on practicality, but the streets still tried to follow a rectangular layout as much as possible. In some cases, the rectangular layout was only applied to a few wide main streets, while the smaller side streets were completely irregular. There are also differences in how much emphasis was placed on public and especially sacred buildings. In some towns, everything was set up for these buildings; wide streets with grand views led to them, and open spaces were left to showcase them. In others, there were no grand views, open spaces, or even impressive buildings.
A measure of historical continuity can be traced in the occurrence of these variations. The towns of the earlier Greeks were stately enough in their public buildings and principal thoroughfares, but they revealed a half-barbaric spirit in their mean side-streets and unlovely dwellings. In the middle of the fifth century men rose above this ideal. They began to recognize private houses and to attempt an adequate grouping of their cities as units capable of a single plan. But they did not carry this conception very far. The decorative still dominated the useful. Broad straight streets were still few and were laid out mainly as avenues for processions and as ample spaces for great facades.[4] Private houses were still of small account. The notion that the City was the State, helpful and progressive as it was, did something also to paralyse in certain ways the development of cities.
A measure of historical continuity can be traced in the occurrence of these variations. The towns of the early Greeks were impressive enough in their public buildings and main roads, but they showed a somewhat uncivilized spirit in their narrow side streets and unattractive homes. By the middle of the fifth century, people began to rise above this ideal. They started to recognize private houses and to try to organize their cities as unified spaces that could function as a single entity. However, they didn't take this idea very far. Decorative elements still overshadowed practicality. Wide, straight streets were still few and were mainly designed for parades and as open spaces for grand facades.[4] Private houses were still not significant. The belief that the City was the State, while helpful and progressive, also hindered the overall development of cities in certain ways.
A change came with the new philosophy and the new politics of the Macedonian era. The older Greek City-states had been large, wealthy, and independent; magnificent buildings and sumptuous festivals were as natural to them as to the greater autonomous municipalities in all ages. But in the Macedonian period the individual cities sank to be parts of a larger whole, items in a dominant state, subjects of military monarchies. The use of public buildings, the splendour of public festivals in individual cities, declined. Instead, the claims of the individual citizen, neglected too much by the City-states but noted by the newer philosophy, found consideration even in town-planning. A more definite, more symmetrical, often more rigidly 'chess-board' pattern was introduced for the towns which now began to be founded in many countries round and east of the Aegean. Ornamental edifices and broad streets were still indeed included, but in the house-blocks round them due space and place were left for the dwellings of common men. For a while the Greeks turned their minds to those details of daily life which in their greater age they had somewhat ignored.
A change occurred with the new philosophy and politics of the Macedonian era. The older Greek city-states were large, wealthy, and independent; impressive buildings and lavish festivals were as common to them as to the larger autonomous municipalities throughout history. However, during the Macedonian period, individual cities became part of a larger whole, components of a dominant state, and subjects of military monarchies. The use of public buildings and the splendor of public festivals in individual cities declined. Instead, the needs of individual citizens, often overlooked by the city-states but recognized by the new philosophy, began to be considered even in urban planning. A more defined, symmetrical, and often more rigid "chess-board" layout was introduced for the towns that began to be established in many countries around and east of the Aegean. Ornamental buildings and wide streets were still included, but the blocks surrounding them were planned with adequate space for the homes of ordinary people. For a time, the Greeks focused on the details of daily life that they had somewhat ignored during their more glorious age.
Lastly, the town-planning of the Macedonian era combined, as I believe, with other and Italian elements and formed the town system of the later Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. As in art and architecture, so also in city-planning, the civilization of Greece and of Italy merged almost inextricably into a result which, with all its Greek affinities, is in the end Roman. The student now meets a rigidity of street-plan and a conception of public buildings which are neither Greek nor Oriental. The Roman town was usually a rectangle broken up into four more or less equal and rectangular parts by two main streets which crossed at right angles at or near its centre. To these two streets all the other streets ran parallel or at right angles, and there resulted a definite 'chess-board' pattern of rectangular house-blocks (insulae), square or oblong in shape, more or less uniform in size. The streets themselves were moderate in width; even the main thoroughfares were little wider than the rest, and the public buildings within the walls were now merged in the general mass of houses. The chief structure, the Forum, was an enclosed court, decorated indeed by statues and girt with colonnades, but devoid of facades which could dominate a town. The town councils of the Roman world were no more free than those of Greece or modern England from the municipal vice of over-building. But they had not the same openings for error. On the other hand, there was in most of them a good municipal supply of water, and sewers were laid beneath their streets.
Lastly, the town planning from the Macedonian era mixed, as I believe, with other Italian elements and formed the urban system of the later Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. Just like in art and architecture, the civilizations of Greece and Italy blended almost inseparably into a result that, despite its Greek connections, ultimately became Roman. Today’s student observes a rigid street layout and a design for public buildings that are neither Greek nor Oriental. The Roman town was typically rectangular, divided into four roughly equal rectangular sections by two main streets that crossed at right angles at or near the center. All other streets ran parallel or at right angles to these two, creating a clear 'chess-board' pattern of rectangular house blocks (insulae), which were square or oblong in shape and fairly uniform in size. The streets themselves were moderately wide; even the main roads were only slightly wider than the others, and the public buildings within the walls blended into the overall mass of houses. The main structure, the Forum, was an enclosed courtyard, decorated with statues and surrounded by colonnades, but lacking facades that could dominate the town. The town councils of the Roman world were just as susceptible to the municipal issue of over-building as those in Greece or modern England. However, they did not have the same opportunities for error. On the positive side, most of them had a good municipal water supply, and sewers were laid under their streets.
The reason for all this is plain. These Roman towns, even more than the Greek cities of the Macedonian world, were parts of a greater whole. They were items in the Roman Empire; their citizens were citizens of Rome. They had neither the wealth nor the wish to build vast temples or public halls or palaces, such as the Greeks constructed. Their greatest edifices, the theatre and the amphitheatre, witness to the prosperity and population not so much of single towns as of whole neighbourhoods which flocked in to periodic performances.[5] But these towns had unity. Their various parts were, in some sense, harmonized, none being neglected and none grievously over-indulged, and the whole was treated as one organism. Despite limitations which are obvious, the Roman world made a more real sober and consistent attempt to plan towns than any previous age had witnessed.
The reason for all this is clear. These Roman towns, even more than the Greek cities of the Macedonian world, were parts of a larger whole. They were components of the Roman Empire; their citizens were citizens of Rome. They had neither the wealth nor the desire to build massive temples or public halls or palaces like the Greeks did. Their biggest structures, the theater and the amphitheater, reflected the prosperity and population not just of individual towns but of entire neighborhoods that gathered for performances. [5] However, these towns had a sense of unity. Their different parts were, in a way, balanced, with none being overlooked and none excessively favored, and the whole was treated as one organism. Despite the obvious limitations, the Roman world made a more genuine, practical, and consistent effort to plan towns than any previous era had seen.
CHAPTER II
GREEK TOWN-PLANNING. THE ORIGINS, BABYLON
CHAPTER II
GREEK TOWN PLANNING: ORIGINS, BABYLON
The beginnings of ideas and institutions are seldom well known or well recorded. They are necessarily insignificant and they win scant notice from contemporaries. Town-planning has fared like the rest. Early forms of it appear in Greece during the fourth and fifth centuries B.C.; the origin of these forms is obscure. The oldest settlement of man in town fashion which has yet been explored in any land near Greece is that of Kahun, in Egypt, dating from about 2500 B.C. Here Professor Flinders Petrie unearthed many four-roomed cottages packed close in parallel oblong blocks and a few larger rectangular houses: they are (it seems) the dwellings of the workmen and managers busy with the neighbouring Illahun pyramid.[6] But the settlement is very small, covering less than 20 acres; it is not in itself a real town and its plan has not the scheme or symmetry of a town-plan. For that we must turn to western Asia, to Babylonia and Assyria.
The origins of ideas and institutions are usually not well known or documented. They often seem unimportant and receive little attention from those living at the time. Town planning has had a similar fate. Early examples appeared in Greece during the fourth and fifth centuries B.C., but their origins are unclear. The oldest known settlement built like a town near Greece is Kahun in Egypt, dating back to around 2500 B.C. Here, Professor Flinders Petrie discovered many small four-room cottages tightly packed in parallel rectangular blocks, along with a few larger rectangular houses. These seem to be the homes of the workers and managers involved with the nearby Illahun pyramid.[6] However, the settlement is quite small, covering less than 20 acres; it isn't a real town, and its layout lacks the design or symmetry typical of a town plan. For that, we need to look to western Asia, specifically to Babylonia and Assyria.
Here we find clearer evidence. The great cities of the Mesopotamian plains show faint traces of town-planning datable to the eighth and following centuries, of which the Greeks seem to have heard and which they may have copied. Our knowledge of these cities is, of course, still very fragmentary, and though it has been much widened by the latest German excavations, it does not yet carry us to definite conclusions. The evidence is twofold, in part literary, drawn from Greek writers and above all Herodotus, and in part archaeological, yielded by Assyrian and Babylonian ruins.
Here we find clearer evidence. The major cities of the Mesopotamian plains show subtle signs of city planning that date back to the eighth century and beyond, which the Greeks seem to have been aware of and may have emulated. Our understanding of these cities is still quite limited, and although recent German excavations have expanded our knowledge significantly, we still can't reach definite conclusions. The evidence comes from two sources: one is literary, based on Greek writers, especially Herodotus, and the other is archaeological, coming from Assyrian and Babylonian ruins.
The description of Babylon given by Herodotus is, of course, famous.[7] Even in his own day, it was well enough known to be parodied by contemporary comedians in the Athenian theatre. Probably it rests in part on first-hand knowledge. Herodotus gives us to understand that he visited Babylon in the course of his many wanderings and we have no cause to distrust him; we may even date his visit to somewhere about 450 B.C. He was not indeed the only Greek of his day, nor the first, to get so far afield. But his account nevertheless neither is nor professes to be purely that of an eyewitness. Like other writers in various ages,[8] he drew no sharp division between details which he saw and details which he learnt from others. For the sake (it may be) of vividness, he sets them all on one plane, and they must be judged, not as first-hand evidence but on their own merits.
The description of Babylon by Herodotus is, of course, famous.[7] Even in his time, it was well-known enough to be parodied by comedians in the Athenian theater. It's likely based in part on his own experiences. Herodotus suggests that he visited Babylon during his many travels, and there’s no reason to doubt him; we can even estimate his visit to around 450 B.C. He wasn't the only Greek of his time, nor the first, to travel that far. However, his account isn't strictly that of an eyewitness, nor does it claim to be. Like other writers throughout history,[8] he didn't clearly separate what he saw from what he learned from others. For the sake of vividness, he merges them all together, and they should be evaluated not as direct evidence but on their own merits.
Babylon, says Herodotus, was planted in an open plain and formed an exact square of great size, 120 stades (that is, nearly 14 miles) each way; the whole circuit was 480 stades, about 55 miles. It was girt with immense brick walls, 340 ft. high and nearly 90 ft. thick, and a broad deep moat full of water, and was entered through 100 gates; presumably we are intended to think of these gates as arranged symmetrically, 25 in each side. From corner to corner the city was cut diagonally by the Euphrates, which thus halved it into two roughly equal triangles, and the river banks were fortified by brick defences—less formidable than the main outer walls—which ran along them from end to end of the city. There was, too, an inner wall on the landward side. The streets were also remarkable:
Babylon, according to Herodotus, was built in an open plain and was a perfect square, measuring 120 stades (about 14 miles) on each side; the entire perimeter was 480 stades, roughly 55 miles. It was surrounded by massive brick walls that stood 340 ft. high and were nearly 90 ft. thick, along with a wide, deep moat filled with water, and it had 100 gates; we can assume these gates were symmetrically arranged, with 25 on each side. The Euphrates River ran diagonally through the city, dividing it into two roughly equal triangles, and the riverbanks were protected by brick defenses—less impressive than the main outer walls—stretching from one end of the city to the other. There was also an inner wall on the landward side. The streets were quite remarkable:
'The city itself (he says) is full of houses, three or four storeys high, and has been laid out with its streets straight, notably those which run at right angles, that is, those which lead to the river. Each road runs to a small gate in the brick river-wall: there are as many gates as lanes.'[9]
"He says the city is filled with houses that are three or four stories tall, and the streets are arranged in straight lines, especially those that intersect at right angles, leading to the river. Each road leads to a small gate in the brick river wall: there are as many gates as there are lanes."__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__
In each part of the city (that is, on either bank of the Euphrates) were specially large buildings, in one part the royal palaces, in the other the temple of Zeus Belos, bronze-gated, square in outline, 400 yards in breadth and length.
In every area of the city (that is, on either side of the Euphrates) stood particularly large structures, with royal palaces on one side and the temple of Zeus Belos on the other, featuring bronze gates, square in shape, and measuring 400 yards in width and length.
So far, in brief, Herodotus. Clearly his words suggest town-planning. The streets that ran straight and the others that ran at right angles are significant enough, even though we may doubt exactly what is meant by these other streets and what they met or cut at right angles. But his account cannot be accepted as it stands. Whatever he saw and whatever his accuracy of observation and memory, not all of his story can be true. His Babylon covers nearly 200 square miles; its walls are over 50 miles long and 30 yds. thick and all but 120 yds. high; its gates are a mile and a half apart. The area of London to-day is no more than 130 square miles, and the topmost point of St. Paul's is barely 130 yds. high. Nanking is the largest city-site in China and its walls are the work of an Empire greater than Babylon; but they measure less than 24 miles in circuit, and they are or were little more than 30 ft. thick and 70 ft. high.[10] Moreover, Herodotus's account of the walls has to be set beside a statement which he makes elsewhere, that they had been razed by Darius sixty or seventy years before his visit.[11] The destruction can hardly have been complete. But in any case Herodotus can only have seen fragments, easily misinterpreted, easily explained by local ciceroni as relics of something quite unlike the facts.
So far, in short, Herodotus. Clearly, his words point to city planning. The streets that ran straight and those that intersected at right angles are significant, even if we might question exactly what these other streets were and what they intersected with. However, his account can't be taken at face value. Whatever he observed and however accurate his memory may have been, not everything he reported can be true. His Babylon spans nearly 200 square miles; its walls are over 50 miles long, 30 yards thick, and almost 120 yards high; the gates are a mile and a half apart. Today's area of London is only about 130 square miles, and the highest point of St. Paul's is just around 130 yards tall. Nanking is the largest city site in China, and its walls were built by an Empire larger than Babylon; yet they measure less than 24 miles in perimeter and are around 30 feet thick and 70 feet high.[10] Furthermore, Herodotus's description of the walls needs to be considered alongside another statement he makes elsewhere, that they were destroyed by Darius sixty or seventy years before he visited.[11] The destruction couldn't have been total. But in any case, Herodotus could only have seen remnants, which could be easily misinterpreted and explained by local guides as remnants of something very different from the reality.
Turn now to the actual remains of Babylon, as known from surveys and excavations. We find a large district extending to both banks of the Euphrates, which is covered rather irregularly by the mounds of many ruined buildings. Two sites in it are especially notable. At its southern end is Birs Nimrud and some adjacent mounds, anciently Borsippa; here stood a huge temple of the god Nebo. Near its north end, ten or eleven miles north of Borsippa, round Babil and Kasr, is a larger wilderness of ruin, three miles long and nearly as broad in extreme dimensions; here town-walls and palaces of Babylonian kings and temples of Babylonian gods and streets and dwelling-houses of ordinary men have been detected and in part uncovered. Other signs of inhabitation can be traced elsewhere in this district, as yet unexplored.
Turn now to the actual remains of Babylon, as identified through surveys and excavations. We find a large area extending along both banks of the Euphrates, covered somewhat irregularly by the mounds of many ruined buildings. Two sites in particular stand out. At the southern end is Birs Nimrud and some nearby mounds, known in ancient times as Borsippa; here was a massive temple dedicated to the god Nebo. Near its northern end, about ten or eleven miles north of Borsippa, around Babil and Kasr, is a bigger expanse of ruins, three miles long and almost as wide; here, the walls of the city, the palaces of Babylonian kings, temples of Babylonian gods, streets, and homes of ordinary people have been found and partially uncovered. Other evidence of habitation can be found elsewhere in this area, which remains unexplored.
Not unnaturally, some scholars have thought that this whole region represents the ancient Babylon and that the vast walls of Herodotus enclosed it all.[12] This view, however, cannot be accepted. Quite apart from the considerations urged above, the region in question is not square but rather triangular, and traces of wall and ditch surrounding it are altogether wanting, though city-walls have survived elsewhere in this neighbourhood and though nothing can wholly delete an ancient ditch. We have, in short, no good reason to believe that Babylon, in any form or sense whatever, covered at any time this large area.
Not surprisingly, some scholars have believed that this entire region represents ancient Babylon and that the massive walls described by Herodotus enclosed it all.[12] However, this perspective cannot be accepted. Aside from the arguments made earlier, the region in question is not square but rather triangular, and there are no signs of walls or ditches surrounding it. Although city walls still exist in other nearby areas, nothing can completely erase an ancient ditch. In short, we have no solid reason to believe that Babylon, in any form or sense, ever covered this large area at any time.
On the other hand, the special ruins of Babil and Kasr and adjacent mounds seem to preserve both the name and the actual remains of Babylon (fig. 1). Here, on the left bank of the Euphrates, are vast city-walls, once five or six miles long.[13] They may be described roughly as enclosing half of a square bisected diagonally by the river, much as Herodotus writes; there is good reason to think that they had some smaller counterpart on the right bank, as yet scantily explored. Within these walls were the palaces of the Babylonian kings, Nabopolassar and Nebuchadnezzar (625-561 B.C.), the temples of the national god Marduk or Merodach and other Babylonian deities, a broad straight road, Aiburschabu, running north and south from palaces to temples, a stately portal spanning this road at the Istar Gate, many private houses in the Merkes quarter, and an inner town-wall perhaps of earlier date. Street and gate were built or rebuilt by Nebuchadnezzar. He, as he declares in various inscriptions, 'paved the causeway with limestone flags for the procession of the Great Lord Marduk.' He made the Istar Gate 'with glazed brick and placed on its threshold colossal bronze bulls and ferocious serpent dragons'. Along the street thus built the statue of Marduk was borne in solemn march on the Babylonian New Year's Day, when the king paid yearly worship to the god of his country.[14]
On the other hand, the unique ruins of Babil and Kasr and the nearby mounds seem to retain both the name and the actual remnants of Babylon (fig. 1). Here, on the left bank of the Euphrates, are extensive city walls, once five or six miles long.[13] They can be roughly described as enclosing half of a square that the river cuts diagonally through, much as Herodotus wrote; there’s good reason to believe that they had a smaller counterpart on the right bank, which has been only lightly explored. Within these walls were the palaces of the Babylonian kings, Nabopolassar and Nebuchadnezzar (625-561 B.C.), the temples dedicated to the national god Marduk or Merodach and other Babylonian deities, a wide, straight road, Aiburschabu, running north and south from the palaces to the temples, a grand entrance spanning this road at the Istar Gate, numerous private homes in the Merkes quarter, and an inner city wall that might be of an earlier date. The streets and gates were built or rebuilt by Nebuchadnezzar. He, as stated in various inscriptions, 'paved the causeway with limestone flags for the procession of the Great Lord Marduk.' He constructed the Istar Gate 'with glazed bricks and placed colossal bronze bulls and fierce serpent dragons at its threshold.' Along the road he built, the statue of Marduk was carried in a solemn procession on Babylonian New Year's Day, when the king annually worshiped the god of his country.[14]
FIG I.
BABYLON
FIG I.
BABYLON
Such are the remains of the city of Babylon, so far as they are known at present. They do not fit ill with the words of Herodotus. We can detect in them the semblance not indeed of one square but of two unequal half-squares, divided by the river; we can trace at least one great street parallel to the river and others which run at right angles to it towards the river. If the brick defences along the water-side have vanished, that may be due to their less substantial character and to the many changes of the river itself. To the student of Babylonian topography, the account of Herodotus is of very little worth. But it is as good as most modern travellers could compile, if they were let loose in a vast area of buildings, without plans, without instruments, and without any notion that a scientific description was expected of them.
These are the remains of the city of Babylon, as far as we know today. They align fairly well with the words of Herodotus. We can identify not just one square but two uneven half-squares divided by the river; we can trace at least one major street running parallel to the river and others that intersect it. If the brick walls along the riverside have disappeared, it may be because they were less sturdy and due to the river's many changes over time. For someone studying Babylonian geography, Herodotus's account is not very valuable. However, it’s comparable to what most modern travelers might come up with if they were allowed to roam a huge area of structures without any plans, tools, or understanding that a detailed description was expected of them.
The remains show also—and this is more to our purpose—the idea of the sacred processional avenue which recurs in fifth-century Greece—and is indeed beloved of architects in the most modern times. Here is a germ of town-planning. But whether this laying out of streets extended beyond the main highways, is less clear. The Merkes excavations occasionally show streets meeting at right angles and at least one roughly rectangular insula, of 150 x 333 ft. But the adjoining house-blocks agree neither in size nor shape, and no hint seems to have yet come to light of a true chess-board pattern.[15]
The remains also show—and this is more relevant to our discussion—the concept of the sacred processional avenue that appears in fifth-century Greece and is actually favored by architects even today. This is a foundation of urban planning. However, it’s less certain whether this street layout went beyond the main roads. The Merkes excavations sometimes reveal streets intersecting at right angles and at least one roughly rectangular insula, measuring 150 x 333 ft. However, the neighboring house blocks vary in size and shape, and there doesn’t seem to be any evidence yet of a true grid pattern.[15]
A little further evidence can be drawn from other Mesopotamian sites. The city of Asshur had a long, broad avenue like the sacred road of Babylon, but the one insula of its private houses which has yet been excavated, planned and published, shows no sign of rectangular planning.[16] There is also literary evidence that Sanherib (765-681 B.C.) laid out a 'Kingsway' 100 ft. wide to promote easy movement through his city of Nineveh, and Delitzsch has even credited the Sargonid dynasty generally (722-625 B.C.) with a care for the dwellings of common men as well as of gods and of kings.[17]
A bit more evidence can be gathered from other Mesopotamian sites. The city of Asshur had a long, wide avenue similar to the sacred road of Babylon, but the one insula of its private houses that has been excavated, planned, and published shows no signs of rectangular planning.[16] There is also written evidence that Sanherib (765-681 B.C.) constructed a 'Kingsway' 100 ft. wide to facilitate easy movement throughout his city of Nineveh, and Delitzsch has even acknowledged the Sargonid dynasty in general (722-625 B.C.) for caring about the homes of ordinary people as well as those of gods and kings.[17]
In conclusion, the mounds of Babil and Kasr and others near them seem to represent the Babylon alike of fact and of Herodotus. It was a smaller city than the Greek historian avers; its length and breadth were nearer four than fourteen miles. But it had at least one straight, ample, and far-stretching highway which gave space for the ceremonies and the processions, if not for the business or the domestic comforts, of life. In a sense at least, it was laid out with its streets straight. Nor was it the only city of such a kind in the Mesopotamian region. Asshur and Nineveh, both of them somewhat earlier in date than Babylon, possessed similar features. These towns, or at least Babylon, seem to have been known to Greek travellers, and probably suggested to them the adornment of their Hellenic homes with similar streets. The germ of Greek town-planning came from the east.
In conclusion, the mounds of Babil and Kasr and others nearby seem to represent Babylon as both a reality and as described by Herodotus. It was a smaller city than the Greek historian claims; its length and width were closer to four miles than fourteen. However, it had at least one wide, straight, and long road that provided space for ceremonies and processions, even if not for business or everyday living. In some ways, the streets were laid out straight. It wasn’t the only city of this type in the Mesopotamian region. Asshur and Nineveh, which were somewhat older than Babylon, had similar features. These towns, or at least Babylon, seem to have been known to Greek travelers, likely inspiring them to embellish their Hellenic homes with similar streets. The roots of Greek town planning came from the east.
CHAPTER III
GREEK TOWN-PLANNING: FIRST EFFORTS
CHAPTER III
GREEK TOWN PLANNING: FIRST EFFORTS
Greek town-planning began in the great age of Greece, the fifth century B.C. But that age had scant sympathy for such a movement, and its beginnings were crude and narrow. Before the middle of the century the use of the processional highway had established itself in Greece. Rather later, a real system of town-planning, based on streets that crossed at right angles, became known and practised. Later still, in the early fourth century, the growing care for town-life produced town by-laws and special magistrates to execute them. In some form or other, town-planning had now taken root in the Greek world.
Greek town planning started during the great age of Greece in the fifth century B.C. However, that era had little appreciation for such a movement, and its early efforts were basic and limited. Before the middle of the century, the use of a processional highway had become established in Greece. Shortly after, a proper system of town planning emerged, characterized by streets that intersected at right angles, and this method began to be practiced. Even later, in the early fourth century, an increasing focus on urban life led to the creation of town by-laws and specific officials to enforce them. In one way or another, town planning had now taken hold in the Greek world.
The two chief cities of Greece failed, indeed, to welcome the new movement. Both Athens, the city which by itself means Greece to most of us, and Sparta, the rival of Athens, remained wholly untouched by it. Alike in the days of Themistocles and Pericles and in all its later history, Athens was an almost Oriental mixture of splendid public buildings with mean and ill-grouped houses. An often-quoted saying of Demosthenes puts the matter in its most favourable light:
The two main cities of Greece did not embrace the new movement. Both Athens, the city that most of us associate with Greece, and Sparta, Athens' rival, remained completely unaffected by it. Just like during the times of Themistocles and Pericles, as well as throughout its later history, Athens was a strange mix of impressive public buildings and poorly arranged, rundown houses. A famous saying from Demosthenes captures this in the best light:
'The great men of old built splendid edifices for the use of the State, and set up noble works of art which later ages can never match. But in private life they were severe and simple, and the dwelling of an Aristides or a Miltiades was no more sumptuous than that of any ordinary Athenian citizen' (Third Olynthiac Oration, 25).
"The great leaders of the past constructed impressive buildings for the State and created masterpieces that later generations can't compare to. However, in their personal lives, they were strict and lived simply, and the homes of Aristides or Miltiades were no more luxurious than those of any regular Athenian citizen." (Third Olynthiac Oration, 25).
This is that 'desire for beauty and economy' which Pericles (or Thucydides) praised in the Funeral Oration. It has a less lovely side. Not a few passages in Greek literature speak, more or less clearly, of the streets of Athens as narrow and tortuous, unpaved, unlighted, and more like a chaos of mud and sewage than even the usual Greek road. Sparta was worse. There neither public nor private buildings were admirable, and the historian Thucydides turned aside to note the meanness of the town.
This is the 'desire for beauty and efficiency' that Pericles (or Thucydides) praised in the Funeral Oration. It has a less appealing side. Several passages in Greek literature describe the streets of Athens as narrow and winding, unpaved, unlit, and resembling a chaotic mix of mud and sewage more than a typical Greek road. Sparta was worse. There, neither public nor private buildings were impressive, and the historian Thucydides took a moment to point out the town's shabby condition.
Nevertheless, the art of town-planning in Greece probably began in Athens. The architect to whom ancient writers ascribe the first step, Hippodamus of Miletus,—born about or before 480 B.C.,—seems to have worked in Athens and in connexion with Athenian cities, under the auspices of Pericles. The exact nature of his theories has not been recorded by any of the Greek writers who name him. Aristotle, however, states that he introduced the principle of straight wide streets, and that he, first of all architects, made provision for the proper grouping of dwelling-houses and also paid special heed to the combination of the different parts of a town in a harmonious whole, centred round the market-place. But there seems to be no evidence for the statement sometimes made, that he had any particular liking for either a circular or a semicircular, fan-shaped town-plan.
Nevertheless, the art of city planning in Greece probably started in Athens. The architect who ancient writers credit with this initial step, Hippodamus of Miletus—born around or before 480 B.C.—seems to have worked in Athens and with Athenian cities, under the guidance of Pericles. The exact details of his theories haven't been documented by any of the Greek writers who mention him. Aristotle, however, claims that he introduced the idea of straight, wide streets and that he was the first architect to consider the proper arrangement of houses and pay special attention to how different parts of a city fit together in a harmonious whole centered around the marketplace. But there doesn’t seem to be any evidence for the claim sometimes made that he had a particular fondness for either a circular or semicircular, fan-shaped city plan.
Piraeus (fig. 2).
Piraeus (fig. 2).
Three cities are named as laid out by Hippodamus. Aristotle tells us that he planned the Piraeus, the port of Athens, with broad straight streets. He does not add the precise relation of these streets to one another. If, however, the results of recent German inquiries and conjectures are correct, and if they show us his work and not—as is unfortunately very possible—the work of some later man, his design included streets running parallel or at right angles to one another and rectangular blocks of houses; the longer and presumably the more important streets ran parallel to the shore, while shorter streets ran at right angles to them down to the quays. Here is a rectangular scheme of streets, though the outline of the whole town is necessarily not rectangular (fig. 2).
Three cities are mentioned as planned by Hippodamus. Aristotle tells us that he designed the Piraeus, the port of Athens, with wide, straight streets. He doesn’t specify exactly how these streets relate to each other. However, if the findings of recent German studies and theories are correct, and if they truly represent his work and not—unfortunately, quite possibly—the work of someone later, his plan included streets that ran parallel or at right angles to each other, forming rectangular blocks of houses; the longer and likely more significant streets ran parallel to the shore, while shorter streets intersected them, leading down to the quays. This creates a rectangular layout of streets, although the overall shape of the town cannot be strictly rectangular (fig. 2).
FIG. 2.
PLAN OF PIRAEUS
FIG. 2.
Piraeus Map
Thurii.
Thurii.
Another town ascribed to Hippodamus is the colony which the Athenians and others planted in 443 B.C. at Thurii in southern Italy, of which Herodotus himself is said to have been one of the original colonists. Its site has never been excavated, and indeed one might doubt whether excavation would show the street plan of 443 B.C. or that of a later and possibly even of a Roman age, when the town was recolonized on the Roman system. But the historian Diodorus, writing in the first century B.C. and no doubt embodying much older matter, records a pertinent detail. The town, he says, was divided lengthways by four streets and crossways by three. Plainly, therefore, it had a definite and rectangular street-planning, though the brevity of the historian does not enable us to decide how many house-blocks it had and how far the lesser streets were symmetrical with these seven principal thoroughfares. In most of the cases which we shall meet in the following sections of this treatise, the number of streets running-straight or at right angles is very much greater than the number assigned to Thurii. I may refer for example to the plans of Priene, Miletus, and Timgad.
Another town attributed to Hippodamus is the colony that the Athenians and others established in 443 B.C. at Thurii in southern Italy, where Herodotus himself is said to have been one of the original settlers. Its site has never been excavated, and one might question if excavation would reveal the street layout from 443 B.C. or that of a later period, possibly even from the Roman era, when the town was recolonized according to Roman principles. However, the historian Diodorus, writing in the first century B.C. and likely drawing from much older sources, notes a relevant detail. He states that the town was divided lengthwise by four streets and crosswise by three. Therefore, it clearly had a defined and rectangular street plan, although the historian's brevity does not allow us to determine how many blocks it contained or how well the smaller streets aligned with these seven main thoroughfares. In most cases we will encounter in the following sections of this work, the number of streets running straight or at right angles is significantly greater than what was found in Thurii. For instance, consider the plans of Priene, Miletus, and Timgad.
Rhodes.
Rhodes.
A third city assigned to Hippodamus is Rhodes. This, according to Strabo, was laid out by 'the architect of the Piraeus'; according to others, it was built round its harbour like the seats of an ancient theatre round the orchestra, that is, fan-fashion like Karlsruhe. However, this case is doubtful. Rhodes was laid out in 408 B.C., thirty-five years after the planting of Thurii and seventy years after the approximate date of the birth of Hippodamus. It is conceivable but not altogether probable that Hippodamus was still planning towns in his extreme old age, nor is it, on political grounds, very likely that he would be planning in Rhodes. As, however, we do not know the real date of his birth, and as Strabo does not specifically mention his name, certainty is unattainable.[18]
A third city associated with Hippodamus is Rhodes. According to Strabo, it was designed by "the architect of the Piraeus"; others claim it was built around its harbor like the seats of an ancient theater surrounding the stage, similar to Karlsruhe. However, this is questionable. Rhodes was established in 408 B.C., thirty-five years after the founding of Thurii and seventy years after the estimated birth of Hippodamus. It is possible, but not very likely, that Hippodamus was still designing cities in his old age, and politically, it seems improbable that he would be planning in Rhodes. However, since we don't know exactly when he was born, and Strabo doesn't specifically mention his name, we can't be certain. [18]
If we cannot tell exactly how Hippodamus planned cities or exactly which he planned, still less do we know how far town-planning on his or on any theory came into general use in his lifetime or indeed before the middle of the fourth century. Few Greek cities have been systematically uncovered, even in part. Fewer still have revealed street-planning which can be dated previous to that time. It does not follow, when we find streets in the ruins of an ancient city, that they must belong to its earliest period. That is not true of towns in any age, modern or mediaeval, Roman or Greek. Some Greek cities were founded in early times, were rebuilt in the Macedonian period, and again rebuilt in the Roman period. Without minute excavation it may be impossible to assign the town-plan of such a place to its proper place among these three periods.
If we can't pinpoint exactly how Hippodamus designed cities or which specific cities he planned, we know even less about the extent to which city planning based on his or any other theory was widely adopted during his lifetime or even before the mid-fourth century. Few Greek cities have been systematically excavated, and even fewer have shown street layouts that can be dated before that time. Just because we find streets in the ruins of an ancient city doesn't mean they belong to its earliest period. This holds true for towns from any era, whether modern, medieval, Roman, or Greek. Some Greek cities were established early on, rebuilt during the Macedonian period, and then again during the Roman period. Without detailed excavation, it might be impossible to accurately place the town plan of such a city within these three periods.
We have, however, at Selinus in Sicily and Cyrene on the north coast of Africa, two cases which may belong to the age of Hippodamus. They are worth describing, since they illustrate both the difficulty of reaching quite certain conclusions and also the system which probably did obtain in the later fifth and the early fourth century.
We do have, though, at Selinus in Sicily and Cyrene on the north coast of Africa, two examples that may date back to the time of Hippodamus. They are worth discussing, as they highlight both the challenges of arriving at definite conclusions and the system that likely existed in the late fifth and early fourth century.
Selinus (fig. 3).
Selinus (fig. 3).
At Selinus the Italian archaeologists discovered some years ago, in the so-called Acropolis, a town of irregular, rudely pear-shaped outline with a distinct though not yet fully excavated town-plan. Two main thoroughfares ran straight from end to end and crossed at right angles (fig. 3), the longer of these thoroughfares being just a quarter of a mile long and 30 ft. wide. From these two main streets other narrower streets (12-18 ft. wide) ran off at right angles; the result, though not chess-board pattern, is a rectangular town-plan. Unfortunately, it cannot be dated. Selinus was founded in 648 B.C., was destroyed in 409, then reoccupied and rebuilt, and finally destroyed for ever in 249. Its town-planning, therefore, might be as early as the seventh century B.C. Or (and this is the most probable conclusion) it may date from the days of Selinuntine prosperity just before 409, when the city was growing and the great Temple of Zeus or Apollo was rising on its eastern hill. Or again, though less probably, it may have been introduced after 400. We may conclude that we have here a clear case of town-planning and we may best refer it to the later part of the fifth century.[19]
At Selinus, Italian archaeologists discovered several years ago, in what's known as the Acropolis, a town that has an irregular, roughly pear-shaped outline with a clear, though still not fully excavated, layout. Two main streets ran straight from one end to the other and crossed at right angles (fig. 3), with the longer street measuring just a quarter mile long and 30 feet wide. From these two main roads, other narrower streets (12-18 feet wide) branched off at right angles; the result, while not a perfect grid, is a rectangular town layout. Unfortunately, its dating is uncertain. Selinus was founded in 648 B.C., destroyed in 409, then reoccupied and rebuilt, and finally destroyed for good in 249. Therefore, its town planning might stretch back to the seventh century B.C. Or, and this is the most likely conclusion, it may date from the period of Selinuntine prosperity right before 409, when the city was expanding and the grand Temple of Zeus or Apollo was being constructed on its eastern hill. Alternatively, although less likely, it could have been established after 400. We can conclude that we have a definitive example of town planning here, and it’s best to associate it with the later part of the fifth century.[19]
FIG. 3.
PLAN OF SELINUS
FIG. 3.
MAP OF SELINUS
Cyrene (fig. 4).
Cyrene (fig. 4).
FIG. 4.
PLAN OF CYRENE
FIG. 4.
CYRENE MAP
At Cyrene the researches of two English archaeologists about 1860 disclosed a town-plan based, like that of Selinus, on two main streets which crossed at right angles (fig. 4). Here, however, the other streets do not seem to have been planned uniformly at right angles to the two main thoroughfares, and the rectangular scheme is therefore less complete and definite than at Selinus. Cyrene, unfortunately, resembles Selinus in another respect, that we have no proper knowledge of the date when its main streets were laid out. It was founded somewhere in the seventh century B.C. and Pindar, in an ode written about 466 B.C., mentions a great processional highway there. Whether this was one of the two roads above mentioned is not clear. But it is not probable, since Pindar's road seems hardly to have been inside the city at all.[20]
At Cyrene, the investigations of two English archaeologists around 1860 uncovered a town layout similar to Selinus, featuring two main streets that intersected at right angles (fig. 4). However, the other streets here don’t appear to have been designed consistently at right angles to the two main roads, making the rectangular layout less complete and clear than at Selinus. Unfortunately, Cyrene also lacks clear information about when its main streets were established. It was founded in the seventh century B.C., and Pindar, in an ode written around 466 B.C., refers to a major processional highway there. It’s unclear if this was one of the two roads mentioned earlier, but it’s unlikely since Pindar's road doesn’t seem to have been inside the city at all.[20]
In these two cases and in one or two others which might be noted from the same or later times, the town-scheme includes rectangular elements without any strict resemblance to the chess-board pattern. The dominant feature is the long straight street, of great width and splendour, which served less as the main artery of a town than as a frontage for great buildings and a route for solemn processions. Here, almost as in Babylon, we have the spectacular element which architects love, but which is, in itself, insufficient for the proper disposition of a town. Long and ample streets, such as those in question, might easily be combined, as indeed they are combined in some modern towns of southern Europe and Asia, with squalid and ill-grouped dwelling-houses. Hippodamus himself aimed at something much better, as Aristotle tells us. But it was not till after 350 B.C. or some approximate date, that dwelling-houses were actually arranged and grouped on a definite system.[21]
In these two cases, along with a couple of others from the same or later periods, the town layout features rectangular sections that don’t strictly resemble a chessboard design. The main highlight is the wide, impressive long street, which served more as a showcase for grand buildings and a pathway for formal processions rather than the central route of the town. Similar to Babylon, this street boasts the dramatic quality that architects appreciate, yet it falls short on its own for effectively organizing a town. Long, spacious streets, like these, can easily be paired—just as they are in some modern cities of Southern Europe and Asia—with run-down and poorly arranged homes. Hippodamus aimed for something much better, as Aristotle notes. However, it wasn't until after around 350 B.C. that homes were actually organized and grouped in a systematic way.[21]
FIG. 5.
SOLUNTUM
FIG. 5.
SOLUNTUM
It was probably, however, in the first half of the fourth century that the Greek cities began to pass by-laws relating to the police, the scavenging and the general public order of their markets and streets, and to establish Agoranomi to control the markets and Astynomi to control the streets. These officials first appear in inscriptions after 350, but are mentioned in literature somewhat earlier. An account of the Athenian constitution, ascribed formerly to Xenophon and written (as is now generally agreed) about 430-424 B.C., mentions briefly the prosecution of those who built on to the public land, that is (apparently), who encroached upon the streets. But it is silent as to specific officers, Astynomi or other. Plato, however, in his 'Laws', which must date a little earlier than his death in 347, alludes on several occasions to such officers. They were to look after the private houses 'in order that they may all be built according to laws', and to police and clean the roads and water-channels, both inside and outside of the city. A prohibition of balconies leaning over the public streets, and of verandas projecting into them, is also mentioned in two or three writers of the fourth century and is said to go back to a much earlier date, though its antiquity was probably exaggerated.[22]
It was likely in the first half of the fourth century that Greek cities started to create by-laws regarding policing, waste management, and overall public order in their markets and streets. They established Agoranomi to oversee the markets and Astynomi to manage the streets. These officials first show up in inscriptions after 350, but they are mentioned in literature a bit earlier. An account of the Athenian constitution, once thought to be by Xenophon and written around 430-424 B.C., briefly discusses the prosecution of those who built on public land, implying those who encroached on the streets. However, it doesn't name any specific officers, like Astynomi. Plato, in his 'Laws', which is believed to be from just before his death in 347, refers to these officers several times. They were responsible for ensuring that private houses were built according to laws and for policing and maintaining the roads and water channels both inside and outside of the city. A ban on balconies overhanging public streets and verandas extending into them is mentioned by a couple of fourth-century writers and is said to have origins much earlier, though its age was likely exaggerated.[22]
The municipal by-laws which these passages suggest clearly came into use before, though perhaps not long before, the middle of the fourth century. They do not directly concern town-planning; they involve building regulations only as one among many subjects, and those regulations are such as might be, and in many cases have been, adopted where town-planning was unknown. But they are natural forerunners of an interest in town-planning. As in modern England, so in fourth-century Greece, their appearance suggests the growth of a care for well-ordered town life and for municipal well-being which leads directly to a more elaborate and methodical oversight of the town as an organized combination of houses and groups of houses.
The municipal by-laws these passages refer to clearly came into use before, though probably not long before, the middle of the fourth century. They don’t focus directly on town planning; they cover building regulations as just one topic among many, and these regulations could be, and often have been, applied where town planning was not yet established. However, they are natural precursors to an interest in town planning. Just like in modern England, in fourth-century Greece, their emergence indicates a growing concern for a well-organized town life and municipal well-being, which leads directly to more detailed and systematic management of the town as a structured collection of homes and groups of homes.
As we part from this early Greek town-planning, we must admit that altogether we know little of it. There was such a thing: among its main features was a care for stately avenues: its chief architect was Hippodamus. Thus much is clear. But save in so far as Milchhöfer's plans reproduce the Piraeus of B.C. 450 or 400, we cannot discern either the shape or the size of the house-blocks, or the grouping adopted for any of the ordinary buildings, or the scheme of the ordinary roads. We may even wonder whether such things were of much account in the town-planning of that period.
As we move away from this early Greek town planning, we have to acknowledge that we know very little about it. It existed, and among its main aspects was a focus on grand avenues, with Hippodamus as its leading architect. That's clear enough. But except for Milchhöfer's plans that depict the Piraeus from around 450 or 400 B.C., we can't make out the layout or size of the city blocks, the arrangement of typical buildings, or the design of the regular streets. We might even question whether those elements mattered much in the town planning of that time.
CHAPTER IV
GREEK TOWN-PLANNING: THE MACEDONIAN AGE, 330-130 B.C.
CHAPTER IV
GREEK TOWN PLANNING: THE MACEDONIAN AGE, 330-130 B.C.
The Macedonian age brought with it, if not a new, at least a more systematic, method of town-planning. That was the age when Alexander and his Macedonian army conquered the East and his successors for several generations ruled over western Asia, when Macedonians and Greeks alike flocked into the newly-opened world and Graeco-Macedonian cities were planted in bewildering numbers throughout its length and breadth. Most of these cities sprang up full-grown; not seldom their first citizens were the discharged Macedonian soldiery of the armies of Alexander and his successors. The map of Turkey in Asia is full of them. They are easily recognized by their names, which were often taken from those of Alexander and his generals and successors, their wives, daughters, and relatives. Thus, one of Alexander's youngest generals, afterwards Seleucus I, sometimes styled Nicator, founded several towns called Seleucia, at least three called Apamea, and others named Laodicea and Antiochia, thereby recording himself, his Iranian wife Apama, his mother Laodice and his father Antiochus, and his successors seem to have added other towns bearing the same name. Indeed, two-thirds of the town-names which are prominent in the later history of Asia Minor and Syria, date from the age of Alexander and his Macedonians.
The Macedonian era introduced, if not a completely new, at least a more organized approach to city planning. This was the period when Alexander and his Macedonian army conquered the East, and his successors ruled over western Asia for several generations. During this time, both Macedonians and Greeks moved into the newly explored territories, leading to a massive number of Graeco-Macedonian cities being established throughout the region. Most of these cities appeared fully formed; often, their first inhabitants were the discharged Macedonian soldiers from the armies of Alexander and his successors. The map of modern Turkey is dotted with them. They can be easily identified by their names, many of which were derived from Alexander and his generals, as well as their families. For example, one of Alexander's youngest generals, later known as Seleucus I, sometimes called Nicator, founded several towns named Seleucia, at least three called Apamea, along with others named Laodicea and Antiochia, honoring his Iranian wife Apama, his mother Laodice, and his father Antiochus. His successors continued this trend by establishing additional towns with the same names. In fact, two-thirds of the town names that are significant in the later history of Asia Minor and Syria date back to the time of Alexander and his Macedonians.
Many discoveries show that these towns were laid out with a regular 'chess-board' street-plan. That method of town-planning now made definite entry into the European world. No architect or statesman is recorded to have invented or systematically encouraged it. Alexander himself and his architect, one Dinocrates of Rhodes or perhaps of Macedonia, seem to have employed it at Alexandria in Egypt, and this may have set the fashion. Seven years after Alexander's death it recurs at Nicaea in Bithynia, which was refounded by one of Alexander's successors in 323 B.C. and was laid out on this fashion. But no ancient writer credits either the founder or the architect of Alexandria or the founder of Nicaea with any particular theory on the subject. If the chess-board fashion becomes now, with seeming suddenness, the common—although not the universal—rule, that is probably the outcome of the developments sketched in the last chapter. Approximations to chess-board planning had been here and there employed in the century before Alexander. When his conquests and their complicated sequel led, amongst other results, to the foundation of many new towns, it was natural that the most definite form of planning should be chosen for general use.
Many discoveries reveal that these towns were designed with a regular 'chess-board' street layout. This method of town-planning firmly entered the European scene. No architect or statesman is noted for inventing or promoting it systematically. Alexander himself, along with his architect Dinocrates from Rhodes or possibly Macedonia, appears to have used this layout in Alexandria, Egypt, which may have set the trend. Seven years after Alexander's death, it reappears in Nicaea in Bithynia, which was reconstructed by one of Alexander's successors in 323 B.C. and was designed in this style. However, no ancient writer attributes any specific theory about it to the founder or architect of Alexandria or the founder of Nicaea. If the chess-board design suddenly becomes the common—though not universal—standard, it's likely a result of the developments outlined in the last chapter. Variations of chess-board planning had been used here and there in the century prior to Alexander. When his conquests and their complex aftermath led to the establishment of many new towns, it was natural that the most defined form of planning would be adopted for general use.
We might, however, wonder whether its adoption was helped by the military character of the generals who founded, and the discharged soldiers who formed the first inhabitants of so many among these towns. Military men are seldom averse to rigidity. It is worth noting, in this connexion, that when chess-board planning came into common use in the Roman Empire, many—perhaps most—of the towns to which it was applied were 'coloniae' manned by time-expired soldiers. So, too, in the Middle Ages and even in comparatively modern times, the towns laid out with rectangular street-plans in northern Italy, in Provence, in the Rhine Valley, are for the most part due in some way or other to military needs.[23] In our own days rectangular planning is a dominant feature of the largest and newest industrial towns. They are adapting a military device to the purposes of an industrial age.
We might, however, wonder whether its adoption was influenced by the military background of the generals who established it, and the retired soldiers who became the first residents of many of these towns. Military personnel are often open to structure. It’s interesting to note that when grid planning became common in the Roman Empire, many—if not most—of the towns it was used in were 'coloniae' occupied by retired soldiers. Similarly, in the Middle Ages and even in more recent times, the towns laid out with rectangular street plans in northern Italy, Provence, and the Rhine Valley were largely shaped by military requirements. In our own time, grid planning is a key characteristic of the largest and newest industrial towns. They are repurposing a military strategy for the needs of an industrial era.
Priene (figs. 6-8).
Priene (figs. 6-8).
The best instance of the new system is not perhaps the most famous. Priene was a little town on the east coast of the Aegean. The high ridge of Mycale towered above it; Miletus faced it across an estuary; Samos stood out seawards to the west. In its first dim days it had been perched on a crag that juts out from the overhanging mountain; there its life began, we hardly know when, in the dawn of Greek history. But it had been worn down in the fifth century between the upper and the nether millstone of the rival powers of Samos and Miletus. Early in the Macedonian age it was refounded. The old Acropolis was given up. Instead, a broad sloping terrace, or more exactly a series of terraces, nearer the foot of the hill, was laid out with public buildings—Agora, Theatre, Stoa, Gymnasium, Temples, and so forth—and with private houses. The whole covered an area of about 750 yds. in length and 500 yds. in width. Priene was, therefore, about half the size of Pompeii (p. 63). It had, as its excavators calculate, about 400 individual dwelling-houses and a population possibly to be reckoned at 4,000.
The best example of the new system isn’t necessarily the most well-known. Priene was a small town on the east coast of the Aegean Sea. The high ridge of Mycale loomed above it; Miletus faced it across an estuary, and Samos was out to the west. In its early days, it was located on a cliff that jutted out from the towering mountain; its existence began, though we don’t know exactly when, in the early days of Greek history. But by the fifth century, it had been ground down between the competing forces of Samos and Miletus. It was reborn early in the Macedonian era. The old Acropolis was abandoned. Instead, a wide sloping terrace, or more accurately a series of terraces, closer to the foot of the hill, was developed with public buildings—Agora, Theatre, Stoa, Gymnasium, Temples, and so on—along with private homes. The whole area covered about 750 yards in length and 500 yards in width. Thus, Priene was about half the size of Pompeii (p. 63). According to its excavators, it had around 400 individual homes and a population that might have been around 4,000.
FIG. 6.
GENERAL OUTLINE OF PRIENE
A, B, C. Gates. D, E, F, H, M, P. Temples (see fig. 7). G. Agora, Market. I. Council House, K. Prytaneion. L, Q. Gymnasium. N. Theatre, O. Water-reservoir, R. Race-course.
FIG. 6.
GENERAL OUTLINE OF PRIENE
A, B, C. Gates. D, E, F, H, M, P. Temples (see fig. 7). G. Agora, Market. I. Council House, K. Prytaneion. L, Q. Gymnasium. N. Theater, O. Water Reservoir, R. Racecourse.
FIG. 7.
PART OF PRIENE AS EXCAVATED 1895-8
(From the large plan by Wiegand and Schrader.)
FIG. 7.
PART OF PRIENE AS EXCAVATED 1895-8
(From the large plan by Wiegand and Schrader.)
FIG. 8.
PRIENE, PANORAMA OF THE TOWN
(As restored by Zippelius.)
FIG. 8.
PRIENE, TOWN PANORAMA
(As restored by Zippelius.)
In the centre was the Agora or market-place, with a temple and other large buildings facing on to it; round them were other public buildings and some eighty blocks of private houses, each block measuring on an average 40 x 50 yds. and containing four or five houses. The broader streets, rarely more than 23 ft. wide, ran level along the terraces and parallel to one another. Other narrower streets, generally about 10 ft. wide, ran at right angles up the slopes, with steps like those of the older Scarborough or of Assisi.[24] The whole area has not yet been explored and we do not know whether the houses were smaller or larger, richer or poorer, in one quarter than in another, but the regularity of the street-plan certainly extended over the whole site.
In the center was the Agora, or marketplace, with a temple and other large buildings facing it; surrounding them were more public buildings and around eighty blocks of private houses, each block averaging 40 x 50 yards and containing four or five homes. The wider streets, usually no more than 23 feet wide, ran level along the terraces and were parallel to each other. Other, narrower streets, generally about 10 feet wide, ran at right angles up the slopes, with steps similar to those in older Scarborough or Assisi.[24] The entire area hasn't been fully explored yet, and we don't know if the houses in one quarter were smaller or larger, richer or poorer, than in another, but the regularity of the street layout certainly covered the whole site.
Despite this reasoned and systematic arrangement, no striking artistic effects appear to have been attempted. No streets give vistas of stately buildings. No squares, save that of the Agora—120 by 230 ft. within an encircling colonnade—provide open spaces where larger buildings might be grouped and properly seen. Open spaces, indeed, such as we meet, in mediaeval and Renaissance Italy or in modern English towns of eighteenth century construction, were very rare in Priene. Gardens, too, must have been almost entirely absent. In the area as yet uncovered, scarcely a single dwelling-house possessed any garden ground or yard.[25]
Despite this organized and methodical layout, there don't seem to be any noticeable artistic effects. No streets offer views of impressive buildings. No squares, except for the Agora—120 by 230 ft. surrounded by a colonnade—create open spaces where larger structures could be arranged and appreciated. Open spaces, like those found in medieval and Renaissance Italy or in modern English towns built in the eighteenth century, were quite uncommon in Priene. Gardens, too, were likely almost non-existent. In the uncovered area, hardly any houses had any garden space or yards. [25]
Miletus (fig. 9).
Miletus (fig. 9).
The skill of German archaeologists has revealed what town-planning meant in a small town rebuilt in the Alexandrine period. No other even approximately complete example has been as yet uncovered on any other site. But spade-work at the neighbouring and more famous city of Miletus has uncovered similar street-planning there. In one quarter, the only one yet fully excavated, the streets crossed at right angles and enclosed regular blocks of dwelling-houses measuring 32 x 60 yds. (according to the excavators) but sub-divided into blocks of about 32 yds. square (fig. 9). These blocks differ somewhat in shape from those of Priene, which are more nearly square; whether they differ in date is more doubtful. They are certainly not earlier than the Macedonian era, and one German archaeologist places the building or rebuilding of this quarter of Miletus after that of Priene and in a 'late Hellenistic' and apparently Roman period. There is unquestionably much Roman work in Miletus; there seems, however, no sufficient reason for ascribing the house-blocks shown on fig. 7 to any date but some part of the Macedonian period. Though differently shaped, they do not differ very greatly in actual area from those of Priene. They are somewhat smaller, but only by about 60 sq. yds. in each average-sized plot.[26]
The expertise of German archaeologists has uncovered what town-planning looked like in a small town rebuilt during the Alexandrine period. No other fairly complete example has been found at any other site so far. However, excavations in the nearby and more well-known city of Miletus have revealed similar street layouts. In one neighborhood, which is the only one fully excavated to date, the streets intersect at right angles and form regular blocks of houses measuring 32 x 60 yards (according to the excavators), and these are further divided into blocks that are about 32 yards square (fig. 9). These blocks are slightly different in shape from those in Priene, which are closer to being square; whether they differ in date is less certain. They are definitely not earlier than the Macedonian era, and one German archaeologist suggests that this section of Miletus was built or rebuilt after Priene, during a 'late Hellenistic' and seemingly Roman period. There is undoubtedly a lot of Roman influence in Miletus; however, there doesn’t seem to be enough reason to assign the house-blocks shown in fig. 7 to any time other than some part of the Macedonian period. While they are shaped differently, they are not significantly different in actual area from those in Priene. They are somewhat smaller, but only by about 60 square yards in each average-sized plot.[26]
FIG. 9.
MILETUS, AS EXCAVATED BY WIEGAND
(Archãologischer Anzeiger, 1911, p. 421.)
FIG. 9.
MILETUS, AS EXCAVATED BY WIEGAND
(Archaeological Journal, 1911, p. 421.)
Alexandria.
Alexandria.
A yet more famous town, founded by Alexander himself, is definitely recorded by ancient writers to have been laid out in the same quasi-chess-board fashion, with one long highway, the Canopic Street, running through it from end to end for something like four miles.[27] Unfortunately the details of the plan are not known with any certainty. Excavations were conducted at the instigation of Napoleon III in 1866 by an Arab archaeologist, Mahmud Bey el Fallaki, and, according to him, showed a regular and rectangular scheme in which seven streets ran east and west while thirteen ran north and south at right angles to them. The house-blocks divided by these streets were thought to vary somewhat in size but to measure in general about 300 x 330 metres.[28] More recent research, however, has not confirmed Mahmud's plans. The excavations of Mr. Hogarth and M. Botti suggest that many of his lines are wrong and that even his Canopic Street is incorrectly laid down. Mr. Hogarth, indeed, concludes that 'it is hopeless now to sift his work; those who would treat the site of Alexandria scientifically must ignore him and start de novo'. More recent excavation, carried out by Dr. Noack in 1898-9, seemed to show that the ancient streets which can now be traced beneath Alexandria belong to a Roman age, though they may of course follow older lines, and that, if some items in Mahmud's plans are possibly right, the errors and omissions are serious. We may accept as certain the statement that Alexandria was laid out with a rectangular town-plan; we cannot safely assume that Mahmud has given a faithful picture of it.[29]
A more famous town, founded by Alexander himself, is definitely noted by ancient writers to have been designed in a quasi-chessboard layout, featuring a long main road, Canopic Street, stretching about four miles from one end to the other.[27] Unfortunately, the specific details of the layout are not known with certainty. Excavations were carried out at the request of Napoleon III in 1866 by an Arab archaeologist, Mahmud Bey el Fallaki, who reported a regular rectangular plan with seven streets running east and west and thirteen running north and south at right angles. The blocks of houses created by these streets were thought to vary somewhat in size, but generally measured about 300 x 330 meters.[28] However, more recent research has not confirmed Mahmud's plans. Excavations by Mr. Hogarth and M. Botti suggest that many of his lines are inaccurate and that even his Canopic Street is incorrectly mapped. Mr. Hogarth indeed concludes that 'it is now impossible to sort through his findings; those who want to study the site of Alexandria scientifically must disregard him and start de novo'. More recent excavations by Dr. Noack in 1898-9 indicated that the ancient streets now traceable beneath Alexandria date back to the Roman period, though they may reflect older layouts. If some aspects of Mahmud's plans may be correct, the errors and omissions are significant. We can confidently state that Alexandria was laid out with a rectangular town plan; we cannot safely assume that Mahmud provided an accurate representation of it.[29]
Nicaea.
Nicaea.
Priene, Miletus, and Alexandria supply more or less well-known instances of Macedonian town-planning. They can be reinforced by a crowd of less famous examples, attested by literature or by actual remains. One of the most characteristic is known to us from literature, Nicaea in Bithynia, founded by one of the Macedonians in 316 B.C. and renamed by another some years later in honour of his wife Nicaea. Strabo, writing about A.D. 15, describes it and his description no doubt refers to arrangements older than the Romans. It formed, he says, a perfect square in which each side measured four stades, a little over 800 yds. In each side—apparently in the middle of each side—there was one gate, and the streets within the walls were laid out at right angles to one another. A man who stood at a certain spot in the middle of the Gymnasium could see straight to all the four gates.[30] Here is the chess-board pattern in definite form, though the central portion of the city may have been laid out under the influence of spectacular effect rather than of geometry.
Priene, Miletus, and Alexandria are well-known examples of Macedonian town planning. They can be supported by many lesser-known instances recorded in literature or by actual remains. One of the most typical examples is Nicaea in Bithynia, which was founded by a Macedonian in 316 B.C. and was later renamed by another in honor of his wife, Nicaea. Strabo, writing around A.D. 15, describes it, and his depiction likely pertains to features that predate the Romans. He states that it was a perfect square, with each side measuring four stades, just over 800 yards. Each side—presumably in the center—had one gate, and the streets within the walls were laid out perpendicular to each other. A person standing in a specific spot in the middle of the Gymnasium could see directly to all four gates. [30] This represents the chessboard layout in a clear form, although the central part of the city may have been designed more for visual impact than strict geometry.
Sicyon, Thebes, &c.
Sicyon, Thebes, etc.
Another Macedonian town-plan may be found at Sicyon, a little west of Corinth. This old Greek city was rebuilt by Demetrius Poliorcetes about 300 B.C., and is described by a Greek writer of the first century B.C. as possessing a regular plan and roads crossing at right angles. The actual remains of the site, explored in part by English and French archaeologists early in the nineteenth century, show some streets which run with mathematical straightness from north-east to south-west and others which run from north-west to south-east.[31] These streets might, indeed, date from the period when Sicyon was the chief town of the Roman province of Achaia, the period (that is) between the overthrow of Corinth in 146 B.C. and its restoration just a century later. But that was not an epoch when such rebuilding is likely to have been carried through. Friendly as the Republican government of Rome showed itself in other ways to Hellas, there is no reason to think that it spent money on town-planning in Hellenic cities. It is far more probable that the town-plan of Sicyon dates from the Macedonians.
Another Macedonian town plan can be found in Sicyon, just a bit west of Corinth. This ancient Greek city was rebuilt by Demetrius Poliorcetes around 300 B.C., and a Greek writer from the first century B.C. described it as having a regular layout with roads intersecting at right angles. The actual remains of the site, partially explored by English and French archaeologists in the early nineteenth century, reveal some streets that run straight from northeast to southwest and others that run from northwest to southeast.[31] These streets might actually date back to when Sicyon was the main town of the Roman province of Achaia, which was the time between the fall of Corinth in 146 B.C. and its restoration just a century later. However, that was not a time when such rebuilding was likely to occur. Although the Republican government of Rome was friendly to Greece in other ways, there’s no reason to believe it invested in town planning in Greek cities. It’s much more likely that the town plan of Sicyon comes from the Macedonians.
To the same Macedonian epoch we may perhaps ascribe the building or rather the rebuilding of Boeotian Thebes, which one who passes for a contemporary writer under the name of Dicaearchus, describes as 'recently divided up into straight streets'.[32] To the same period Strabo definitely assigns the newer town of Smyrna, lying in the plain close to the harbour. It was due, he says, to the labours of the Macedonians, Antigonus, and Lysimachus.[33] We may perhaps assign to the same period the town-planning of Mitylene in Lesbos, which Vitruvius mentions as so splendid and so unhealthy, were it not that his explanation of its unhealthiness suggests rather a fan-shaped outline than a square. It was, he says, intolerable, whatever wind might blow. With a south wind, the wind of damp and rain, every one was ill. With a north-west wind, every one coughed. With a north wind, no one could stand out of doors for the chilliness of its blasts.[34] Streets that lay open to the north and the north-west and the south, equally and alike, could only be found in a town-plan fashioned like a fan. But perhaps Vitruvius only selected three of the plagues of Lesbos.
To the same Macedonian era, we might attribute the construction, or rather the reconstruction, of Boeotian Thebes, which a writer known as Dicaearchus describes as 'recently laid out with straight streets'. [32] Strabo also dates the newer town of Smyrna, located in the plain near the harbor, to this same period. He attributes its development to the efforts of the Macedonians, Antigonus, and Lysimachus. [33] We might also connect the town planning of Mitylene in Lesbos to this period, which Vitruvius notes as both impressive and unhealthy, except that his description of its unhealthiness implies a fan-like shape rather than a square layout. He states that it was unbearable regardless of the wind direction. With a south wind, bringing dampness and rain, everyone fell ill. With a north-west wind, everyone coughed. And with a north wind, nobody could stay outside due to the chill. [34] Streets that opened to the north, north-west, and south could only exist in a town designed like a fan. However, it’s possible that Vitruvius only mentioned three of the issues faced by Lesbos.
In other cases the same planning was probably adopted, although the evidence as yet known shows only a rectangular plan of main streets, such as we have met in Pre-Macedonian Greece. In Macedonia itself, Thessalonika, laid out perhaps about 315 B.C., had at least one main street running southwards to the sea and two more running east and west at right angles to that.[35] In Asia two Syrian towns, which occupy sites closed to Hellenic culture before Alexander, may serve as examples. Apamea on the Orontes was built by the Macedonians, rose forthwith to importance, and retained its vigorous prosperity through the Roman Empire; in A.D. 6 it was 'numbered' by Sulpicius Quirinius, then the governor of Syria, and the census showed as many as 117,000 citizens settled in the city and its adjacent 'territory'. Its ruins seem to be mainly earlier than the Romans, and its streets may well date from its Macedonian founders. In outline it is an irregular oblong, nearly an English mile in length and varying in width from half to two-thirds of a mile. A broad and straight street, lined throughout with colonnades, runs from end to end of its length and passes at least five great buildings, which seem to be the temples and palaces of the Seleucid kings. Two other streets cross this main street at right angles. Whether the smaller thoroughfares took the same lines can be determined only by excavation. It would be a gentle guess to think so.[36]
In other cases, the same planning was likely used, although the evidence we have shows only a rectangular layout of main streets, similar to what we see in Pre-Macedonian Greece. In Macedonia itself, Thessalonika, established around 315 B.C., featured at least one main street that ran south to the sea, along with two more that crossed it at right angles—one running east and the other west.[35] In Asia, two Syrian towns, which were close to Hellenic culture before Alexander, can serve as examples. Apamea on the Orontes was constructed by the Macedonians, quickly became significant, and maintained its thriving prosperity throughout the Roman Empire; in A.D. 6, it was 'counted' by Sulpicius Quirinius, who was then the governor of Syria, and the census revealed as many as 117,000 citizens living in the city and surrounding 'territory'. Its ruins primarily date back to before the Romans, and its streets likely originate from its Macedonian founders. The overall shape is an irregular oblong, nearly a mile long and varying in width from half a mile to two-thirds of a mile. A wide, straight street, lined with colonnades, stretches from one end to the other and passes at least five major buildings, which appear to be the temples and palaces of the Seleucid kings. Two other streets intersect this main street at right angles. Whether the smaller streets followed the same layout can only be determined through excavation. It would be a reasonable assumption to think so.[36]
Further south, on the edge of the Haurân, stood the town of Gerasa. This too, like Apamea, was built by the Macedonians and flourished not only in their days but during the following Roman age. Its general outline was ovoid, its greatest diameter three quarters of a mile, its area some 235 acres—nearly the same with Roman Cologne and Roman Cirencester. Its streets resembled those of Apamea. A colonnaded highway ran straight through from north to south; two other streets crossed at right angles, and its chief public buildings, the Temple of the Sun and three other temples, two theatres and two public baths, stood near these three streets (fig. 10). Again the evidence proves rectangular town-planning in broad outline; excavation alone can tell the rest.[37]
Further south, on the edge of Haurân, was the town of Gerasa. Like Apamea, it was built by the Macedonians and thrived not only during their time but also in the subsequent Roman period. The town had an oval shape, with its longest diameter measuring three quarters of a mile and covering about 235 acres—almost the same size as Roman Cologne and Roman Cirencester. Its streets were similar to those in Apamea. A colonnaded main road ran straight through from north to south; two other streets intersected at right angles, and its main public buildings, including the Temple of the Sun, three other temples, two theaters, and two public baths, were located near these three streets (fig. 10). Again, the evidence shows a rectangular town layout in general; only excavation can reveal the details.[37]
FIG. 10.
GERASA
FIG. 10.
JERASH
In the towns just described a distinctive feature is the 'chess-board' pattern of streets and rectangular house-blocks. That, of course, is the feature which most concerns us here. It may not have looked so predominant to their builders and inhabitants. The towns which the Macedonians founded were not seldom rich and large; several were the capitals of powerful and despotic rulers. In such towns we expect great public buildings, temples, palaces. It is not surprising if sometimes those who reared them cared solely for the spectacular grouping of magnificent structures and forgot the private houses and the general plan of the town.
In the towns just mentioned, a notable characteristic is the 'chess-board' layout of the streets and rectangular blocks of houses. This is what matters most to us here. It might not have seemed so prominent to their builders and residents. The towns established by the Macedonians were often wealthy and large; several served as the capitals of powerful and authoritarian rulers. In these towns, we would expect to see grand public buildings, temples, and palaces. It’s not surprising that sometimes those who built these structures focused only on the impressive arrangement of magnificent buildings and overlooked the private homes and the overall town plan.
Pergamum.
Pergamon.
One such instance from the Macedonian age, perhaps the most instructive which we could ever hope to get,[38] is Pergamum, in the north-west of Asia Minor. This has been thoroughly explored by German science; its remains are superb; its chief buildings date from an age when town-planning had grown familiar to the Greek world. About 300 B.C. it was a hill-town where a Macedonian chief could bestow a war-chest. It grew both populous and splendid in the third and second centuries B.C. under the Attalid kings; later builders, Augustus or Trajan or other, added little either to its general design or to its architectural glory. The dominant idea was that of a semi-circle of great edifices, crowning the crest and inner slopes of a high crescent-shaped ridge. Near the northern and highest end of this ridge stood the palace of the Attalid princes, afterwards buried beneath a temple in honour of Trajan. Next, to the south, was the Library—with stores of papyri worth more perhaps to the world than all the architecture of Pergamon. The middle of the crescent held the shrine of Athena, goddess of Pergamon, and beside it the Altar of Zeus the Saviour, gigantic in size, splendid with sculpture, itself the equal of an Acropolis. Lastly, the southern or lower end of the ridge bore a temple of Dionysus and an Agora for Assemblies.
One notable example from the Macedonian era, possibly the most informative we could ever hope to find, [38] is Pergamum, located in the northwest of Asia Minor. It has been extensively studied by German scholars; its ruins are remarkable; its main structures come from a time when urban planning was well-established in the Greek world. Around 300 B.C., it was a hill town where a Macedonian leader could store a treasury for warfare. It became both populous and magnificent in the third and second centuries B.C. under the Attalid kings; later constructions by Augustus, Trajan, or others added little to its overall design or architectural significance. The main concept featured a semi-circle of grand buildings that crowned the peak and inner slopes of a high crescent-shaped ridge. Near the northern and highest part of this ridge stood the palace of the Attalid princes, later buried under a temple dedicated to Trajan. Just south of that was the Library—housing collections of papyri that might have been more valuable to the world than all of Pergamon's architecture combined. In the center of the crescent was the shrine of Athena, the goddess of Pergamon, and next to it was the Altar of Zeus the Saviour, massive in size and adorned with sculptures, rivaling that of an Acropolis. Finally, at the southern or lower end of the ridge was a temple dedicated to Dionysus and an Agora for assemblies.
These buildings ringed the hill-top in stately semi-circle; below them, a theatre was hewn out of the slopes and a terrace 250 yds. long was held up by buttresses against precipitous cliffs. Lower yet, beneath the Agora, the town of common men covered the lower hill-side in such order or disorder as its steepness allowed. Here was no conventional town-planning. Only a yet lower and later city, built in Roman days on more or less level spaces beside the stream Selinus, seems perhaps to have been laid out in chess-board fashion.[39] The Attalid kings, the founders of Pergamon, cared only for splendid buildings splendidly adorned. If their abrupt hill-side forbade the straight and broad processional avenues of some other Greek cities, they crowned their summits instead with a crescent of temples and palaces which had not its like on the shores of the Aegean.
These buildings surrounded the hilltop in a grand semi-circle; below them, a theater was carved out of the slopes and a terrace 250 yards long was supported by buttresses against steep cliffs. Even lower, beneath the Agora, the town of everyday people sprawled across the lower hillside in whatever order or chaos its steepness allowed. There was no standard town planning here. Only a later city, built during Roman times on relatively flat areas beside the Selinus River, seems to have been laid out in a grid pattern.[39] The Attalid kings, the founders of Pergamon, were only interested in magnificent buildings that were beautifully decorated. Although their steep hillside prevented the wide, straight processional roads found in other Greek cities, they instead topped their heights with a curve of temples and palaces unlike anything else along the Aegean coast.
Yet even Pergamon had its building-laws and by-laws for the protection of common life. A Pergamene inscription contains part of a 'Royal Law' which apparently dates from one of the Attalid rulers. It is imperfect. But we can recognize some of the items for which it provided. Houses which fell or threatened to fall on to the public street, or which otherwise became ruinous, could be dealt with by the Astynomi; if their owners failed to repair them, these magistrates were to make good the defects themselves and to recover the cost, and a fine over and above it, from the owners; if the Astynomi neglected their duty, the higher magistrates, the Strategi, were to take up the matter. Streets were to be cleaned and scavenged by the same Astynomi. Brick-fields were expressly forbidden within the city. The widths of roads outside the town were fixed and owners of adjacent land were held liable for their repair, and there was possibly some similar rule, not preserved on the inscription, for roads inside the walls; at Priene, it seems, these latter were in the care of the municipality. There were provisions, too, for the repair of common walls which divided houses belonging to two owners, and also for the prevention of damp where two houses stood side by side on a slope and the wall of the lower house stood against the soil beneath the upper house.[40]
Yet even Pergamon had its building codes and regulations to protect community life. A Pergamene inscription includes part of a 'Royal Law' that likely comes from one of the Attalid rulers. It’s incomplete, but we can identify some of the rules it laid out. Houses that were collapsing or at risk of collapsing onto the public street, or that were otherwise in disrepair, could be addressed by the Astynomi; if their owners didn’t fix them, these officials were required to make the necessary repairs themselves and recoup the costs, plus a fine, from the owners. If the Astynomi failed in their duties, the higher officials, the Strategi, were to step in. The same Astynomi were responsible for cleaning and maintaining the streets. Brick-making was explicitly banned within the city limits. The widths of roads outside the town were established, and landowners next to those roads were responsible for their maintenance. There likely was some similar rule, not included on the inscription, for roads within the city walls; in Priene, these roads were managed by the municipality. There were also rules for repairing shared walls between homes owned by different people, as well as measures to prevent dampness where two houses were situated on a slope, with the wall of the lower house against the soil of the upper house. [40]
These rules are very like those which were coming into use before 330 B.C. (p. 37). Only, they are more elaborate, and it is significant that the inscriptions begin in Macedonian and later days to give more and fuller details as to the character of these laws and as to the existence in many cities of officials to execute them. It is not surprising to find that Roman legislation of the time of Caesar and the early Empire applies these or very similar rules to the local government of the Roman municipalities of the Empire (p. 137).
These rules are quite similar to those that were becoming common before 330 B.C. (p. 37). However, they are more detailed, and it's noteworthy that the inscriptions start in Macedonian and later provide more comprehensive information about the nature of these laws and the presence of officials in many cities to enforce them. It's not surprising to see that Roman laws during the time of Caesar and the early Empire apply these or very similar rules to the local governance of Roman municipalities within the Empire (p. 137).
So common in the Macedonian world was the town-planning which has been described above, that the literature of the period, even in its casual phrases and incidental similes, speaks of towns as being normally planned in this fashion. Two examples from two very different authors will suffice as illustration. Polybius, writing somewhere about B.C. 150, described in well-known chapters the scheme of the Roman camp, and he concludes much as follows: 'This being so, the whole outline of the camp may be summed up as right-angled and four-sided and equal-sided, while the details of its street-planning and its general arrangement are precisely parallel to those of a city' (VI. 31, 10). He was comparing the Greek town, as he knew it in his own country, with the encampment of the Roman army; he found in the town the aptest and simplest parallel which he could put before his readers. A much later writer, living in a very different environment and concerned with a very different subject, fell nevertheless under the influence of the same ideas. Despite his 'sombre scorn' for things Greek and Roman, St. John, when he wished to figure the Holy City Jerusalem, centre of the New Heaven and New Earth, pictured it as a city lying foursquare, the length as large as the breadth, and entered by twelve gates, 'on the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates.'[41]
So common in the Macedonian world was the town planning described above that the literature from that time, even in its casual phrases and incidental comparisons, refers to towns as being typically organized this way. Two examples from very different authors will illustrate this. Polybius, writing around 150 B.C., detailed the layout of the Roman camp in well-known chapters and concluded much like this: 'Given this, the entire outline of the camp can be summed up as right-angled, four-sided, and equal-sided, while the details of its street planning and general arrangement are exactly parallel to those of a city' (VI. 31, 10). He was comparing the Greek town he knew in his own country with the encampment of the Roman army, finding the town to be the most suitable and straightforward comparison for his readers. A much later writer, living in a very different setting and focused on a different topic, was still influenced by the same ideas. Despite his 'dark disdain' for Greek and Roman things, St. John, when he wanted to depict the Holy City Jerusalem, the center of the New Heaven and New Earth, described it as a city that is square, with its length equal to its width, and entered through twelve gates: 'on the east three gates, on the north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the west three gates.'[41]
The instances and items cited in the preceding paragraphs lie within the limits of the Greek world and of the Roman Empire. We might perhaps wish to pursue our speculations and ask whether this vigorous system influenced foreign lands, and whether the Macedonian army carried the town-plan of their age, in more or less perfect form, as far as their conquests reached. Alexander settled many soldiers in lands which were to form his eastern and north-eastern frontiers, as if against the central-asiatic nomads. Merv and Herat, Khokand and Kandahar,[42] have been thought—and, it seems, thought with some reason—to date from the Macedonian age and in their first period to have borne the name Alexandria. But no Aurel Stein has as yet uncovered their ruins, and speculation about them is mere speculation.
The examples and items mentioned in the previous paragraphs are from the Greek world and the Roman Empire. We might want to explore whether this strong system impacted other countries and if the Macedonian army spread the town-planning practices of their time, in varying degrees of completeness, wherever they conquered. Alexander settled many soldiers in areas that would become his eastern and northeastern borders, seemingly as a defense against the Central Asian nomads. Merv and Herat, Khokand and Kandahar,[42] are believed—and it seems there's some reason to think so—to have originated during the Macedonian era and to have been called Alexandria in their early days. However, no Aurel Stein has yet discovered their ruins, and discussions about them remain purely speculative.
If Greek and Macedonian town-planning are fairly well known, the Roman Empire offers a yet larger mass of certain facts, both in Italy and in the provinces. The beginnings, naturally, are veiled in obscurity. We can trace the system in full work at the outset of the Empire; we cannot trace the steps by which it grew. Evidences of something that resembles town-planning on a rectangular scheme can be noted in two or three corners of early Italian history—first in the prehistoric Bronze Age, then in a very much later Etruscan town, and thirdly on one or two sites of middle Italy connected with the third or fourth century B.C. These evidences are scanty and in part uncertain, and their bearing on our problem is not always clear, but they claim a place in an account of Italian town-planning. To them must be added, fourthly, the important evidence which points to the use of a system closely akin to town-planning in early Rome itself.
If the town planning of Greek and Macedonian cities is fairly well understood, the Roman Empire presents an even larger collection of definitive facts, both in Italy and the provinces. The origins, of course, are shrouded in mystery. We can observe the system fully in operation at the beginning of the Empire, but we can't trace the steps it took to develop. There are signs of something resembling rectangular town planning at a few points in early Italian history—first in the prehistoric Bronze Age, later in a much more recent Etruscan town, and again at one or two locations in central Italy linked to the third or fourth century B.C. These indications are limited and somewhat uncertain, and their relevance to our discussion isn't always clear, yet they deserve mention in any overview of Italian town planning. Additionally, we should consider the significant evidence suggesting the use of a system similar to town planning in early Rome itself.
The Terremare (fig. 11).
The Terremare (fig. 11).
(i) We begin in the Bronze Age, somewhere between 1400 and 800 B.C., amidst the so-called Terremare. More than a hundred of these strange settlements have been examined by Pigorini, Chierici, and other competent Italians. Most of them occur in a well-defined district between the Po and the Apennines, with Piacenza at its west end and Bologna at its east end. Some have also been noted on the north bank of the Po near Mantua, both east and west of the Mincio, and two or three elsewhere in Italy. Archaeologically, they all belong to the Bronze Age; they seem, further, to be the work of a race distinct from any previous dwellers in North Italy, which had probably just moved south from the Danubian plains. At some time or other this race had dwelt in lake-villages. They were now settled on dry ground and far away from lakes—one of their hamlets is high in the Apennines, nearly 1,900 ft. above the sea. But they still kept in the Terremare the lacustrine fashion of their former homes.
(i) We start in the Bronze Age, around 1400 to 800 B.C., in what is known as the Terremare. Over a hundred of these unique settlements have been studied by Pigorini, Chierici, and other skilled Italians. Most of them are located in a specific area between the Po River and the Apennines, with Piacenza on the west end and Bologna on the east end. Some have also been found on the north bank of the Po near Mantua, both east and west of the Mincio, as well as a couple of others in different parts of Italy. Archaeologically, they all belong to the Bronze Age; they appear to be the work of a group distinct from any earlier inhabitants of Northern Italy, likely having recently migrated south from the Danube plains. At some point, this group lived in lake villages. They were now settled on dry land and far from lakes—one of their villages is high in the Apennines, almost 1,900 ft. above sea level. However, they still maintained the lake-dwelling style of their previous homes in the Terremare.
The nature of these strange villages can best be explained by an account of the best-known and the largest example of them (fig. 11). At Castellazzo di Fontanellato, a little west of Parma, are the vestiges of a settlement which, with its defences, covered an area of about forty-three acres. In outline it was four-sided; its east and west sides were parallel to one another, and the whole resembled a rectangle which had been pulled a trifle askew. Round it ran a solid earthen rampart, 50 ft. broad at the base and strengthened with woodwork (plan, B). In front of the rampart was a wet ditch (A), 100 ft. wide, fed with fresh water from a neighbouring brook by an inlet at the south-western corner (C) and emptied by an outfall on the east (D). One wooden bridge gave access to this artificial island at its southern end (E). The area within the rampart, a little less than thirty acres in extent, was divided into four parts by two main streets, which would have intersected at right angles had the place been strictly rectangular; other narrower streets ran parallel to these main thoroughfares. On the east side (F) was a small 'citadel'—arx or templum—with ditch, rampart and bridge of its own (G, H); in this were a trench and some pits (K) which seemed by their contents to be connected with ritual and religion. Outside the whole (L, M) were two cemeteries, platforms of urns set curiously like the village itself, and also a little burning ghat.[43] The population of the village is necessarily doubtful. A German writer, Nissen, has reckoned it at four or five thousand, men, women and children together, crowded into small huts. But this estimate may be too high. In any case, many of the Terremare are much smaller.
The nature of these strange villages can best be explained by looking at the best-known and largest example of them (fig. 11). At Castellazzo di Fontanellato, just west of Parma, are the remnants of a settlement that, with its defenses, covered about forty-three acres. Its shape was four-sided; the east and west sides were parallel, and overall it looked like a rectangle that had been slightly tilted. Surrounding it was a solid earthen rampart, 50 ft. wide at the base and reinforced with wooden structures (plan, B). In front of the rampart was a wet ditch (A), 100 ft. wide, filled with fresh water from a nearby brook through an inlet at the southwest corner (C) and drained through an outfall on the east side (D). A wooden bridge provided access to this artificial island at its southern end (E). The area inside the rampart, just under thirty acres, was divided into four sections by two main streets, which would have crossed at right angles if the layout had been completely rectangular; several narrower streets ran parallel to these main roads. On the east side (F) was a small 'citadel'—arx or templum—with its own ditch, rampart, and bridge (G, H); within it were a trench and some pits (K) that seemed to be related to rituals and religious practices based on their contents. Outside the entire area (L, M) were two cemeteries, platforms of urns arranged curiously like the village itself, and also a small burning ghat. [43] The population of the village is uncertain. A German writer, Nissen, estimated it at four or five thousand people, including men, women, and children, living in small huts. However, this estimate may be too high. In any case, many of the Terremare are much smaller.
FIG. 11.
TERRAMARA OF CASTELLAZZO DI FONTANELLATO
FIG. 11.
TERRAMARA OF CASTELLAZZO DI FONTANELLATO
These Terremare bear a strong likeness to the later Italian town-planning, and they are usually taken to be the oldest discoverable traces of that system. This means that the Italian town-planning was derived from other sources besides Greece or the East, since the Terremare are far older than Hippodamus or even Nebuchadnezzar and Sennacherib (pp. 23, 29). It must be added that our present knowledge does not allow us to follow the actual development of the Terremare into historic times, and to link them closely with the later civilization of Central Italy. When some modern scholars call the men of the Terremare by the name 'Italici', they express a hope rather than a proven fact. It may be safer, for the moment, to avoid that name and to refrain from theories as to the exact relation between prehistoric and historic. But we shall see below that the existence of a relation between the two is highly probable.
These Terremare show a strong resemblance to later Italian town-planning and are generally considered the oldest known examples of that system. This suggests that Italian town-planning came from other influences besides Greece or the East, since the Terremare are much older than Hippodamus or even Nebuchadnezzar and Sennacherib (pp. 23, 29). It's important to note that our current understanding doesn't allow us to trace the actual evolution of the Terremare into historic times or closely link them with the later civilization of Central Italy. When some modern scholars refer to the people of the Terremare as 'Italici,' they are expressing hope rather than a proven fact. For now, it may be wiser to avoid that label and refrain from making theories about the exact connection between prehistoric and historic times. However, we will see later that it's highly likely there is a relationship between the two.
Marzabotto (fig. 12).
Marzabotto (fig. 12).
FIG. 12.
MARZABOTTO
(AB, FG, CD, main streets. The shading represents excavated houses.)
FIG. 12.
MARZABOTTO
(AB, FG, CD, main streets. The shading shows where houses have been excavated.)
(ii) A greater puzzle, dating probably from the fifth century B.C., meets us in the ruins of a nameless little Etruscan town which stood outside of Etruria proper, on the north slopes of the Apennines. Its site is fifteen miles south of Bologna, close to the modern Marzabotto, on the left bank of the little river Reno. Only a tiny part has been uncovered. But the excavators have not hesitated to complete their results conjecturally into a rectangular town-plan, with streets crossing at right angles and oblong blocks of houses measuring from 158 to 176 yds. in length and 37 or 44 or 71 yds. in width (fig. 12). The whole must have been laid out at once, and the smaller remains seem to show that this was done by Etruscans. In the fourth century the place was sacked by the Gauls, and though there was later occupation,[44] its extent is doubtful.[45]
(ii) A greater puzzle, likely from the fifth century B.C., faces us in the ruins of an unnamed small Etruscan town that was located outside of Etruria, on the northern slopes of the Apennines. Its site is fifteen miles south of Bologna, near modern Marzabotto, on the left bank of the little Reno River. Only a small portion has been uncovered. However, the excavators have not hesitated to fill in their findings hypothesizing a rectangular town layout, with streets intersecting at right angles and rectangular blocks of houses measuring between 158 to 176 yards in length and 37, 44, or 71 yards in width (fig. 12). The entire area must have been planned at once, and the smaller remains suggest that this was done by the Etruscans. In the fourth century, the town was attacked by the Gauls, and although there was later occupation, its extent is uncertain.[44]
Further excavation is, however, needed to confirm this generally accepted interpretation of the place. Nothing has been noted elsewhere in Etruria or its confines to connect the Etruscans with any rectangular form of town-plan. At Veii, for example, most of the Etruscan city has lain desolate and unoccupied ever since the Romans destroyed it, but the site shows no vestige of streets crossing at right angles or of oblong blocks of houses. At Vetulonia the excavated fragment of an Etruscan city shows only curving and irregular streets.[46] Nor is there real reason to believe that the 'Etruscan teaching' learnt by Rome included an art of town-planning (p. 71) or that, as a recent French writer has conjectured, the Etruscans brought any such art with them from the East and communicated it to the West. We must conclude that at Marzabotto we have a piece of evidence which we cannot set into its proper historical framework. We might perhaps call it an early blend of Greek and Italian methods and compare it with Naples (p. 100). It is odd that four out of seven house-blocks should measure just under 120 Roman ft. in width and thus approximate to a figure which we meet often elsewhere in the Roman world (p. 79). But it would be well to learn more of the plan by further excavation.
Further excavation is needed, however, to confirm this widely accepted interpretation of the site. Nothing has been found elsewhere in Etruria or its surroundings to connect the Etruscans with any rectangular towns. At Veii, for example, most of the Etruscan city has remained abandoned since the Romans destroyed it, yet the site shows no signs of streets intersecting at right angles or rectangular blocks of houses. At Vetulonia, the excavated part of an Etruscan city reveals only curved and irregular streets.[46] There’s also no compelling reason to believe that the 'Etruscan teaching' that Rome learned included any kind of town-planning (p. 71), or that, as a recent French writer has suggested, the Etruscans brought such skills from the East and passed them on to the West. We must conclude that at Marzabotto we have evidence that we cannot place into its proper historical context. We might call it an early mix of Greek and Italian methods and compare it to Naples (p. 100). It’s interesting that four out of seven house blocks measure just under 120 Roman feet in width, aligning with a figure that we often see elsewhere in the Roman world (p. 79). But it would be wise to gather more details about the plan through further excavation.
Pompeii (fig. 13).
Pompeii (fig. 13).
(iii) A third piece of evidence can be found on a site which historians and novelists alike connect mainly with the Roman Empire, but which dates back to the days of the early or middle Republic. Pompeii began in or before the sixth century B.C. as an Oscan city. For a while, we hardly know when, it was ruled by Etruscans. Later, about 420 B.C., it was occupied by Samnites. Finally, it became Roman; it was refounded in 80 B.C. as a 'colonia' and repeopled by soldiers discharged from the armies of Sulla. In A.D. 79 it reached its end in the disaster to which it owes its fame. Its life, therefore, was long and full of destruction, re-building, enlargement. Its architectural history is naturally hard to follow. Many of its buildings, however, can be dated more or less roughly by the style of their ornament or the character of their material, and the lines of its streets suggest some conjectures as to its growth which deserve to be stated even though they may conflict with the received opinions about Pompeii. It will be understood, of course, that these conjectures, like all speculations on Pompeii, are limited by the fact that barely half of its area has been as yet uncovered, and that very little search has been made beneath the floors and pavements of its latest period.[47]
(iii) A third piece of evidence can be found on a site that historians and novelists often associate with the Roman Empire, but it actually dates back to the early or middle Republic. Pompeii started in or before the sixth century B.C. as an Oscan city. For a while, we don’t know exactly when, it was ruled by Etruscans. Later, around 420 B.C., it was taken over by Samnites. Eventually, it became Roman; it was reestablished in 80 B.C. as a 'colonia' and repopulated by soldiers who were discharged from Sulla’s armies. In A.D. 79, it met its end in the disaster that made it famous. Its existence, therefore, was long and marked by destruction, rebuilding, and expansion. Its architectural history is, understandably, difficult to trace. However, many of its buildings can be roughly dated by the style of their decoration or the type of materials used, and the layout of its streets allows for some speculation about its development, which deserves to be noted even if it may contradict the accepted views about Pompeii. It should be understood, of course, that these speculations, like all theories regarding Pompeii, are limited by the fact that barely half of its area has been uncovered so far, and very little exploration has been done beneath the floors and pavements of its later period.[47]
FIG. 13.
POMPEII
(T = Temple. The area of the supposed original settlement is outlined in black.)
FIG. 13.
POMPEII
(T = Temple. The area of the supposed original settlement is outlined in black.)
As we know it at present, Pompeii is an irregular oval area of about 160 acres, planted on a small natural hill and girt with a stone wall nearly two miles in circumference (fig. 13). On the west there was originally access to the sea, and on this side the walls have disappeared or have not been yet uncovered. Near this end of the town is the Forum, with the principal temples and public buildings round it. At the east end of the town, nearly 1200 yds. from the western extremity, is the amphitheatre, and the town-walls appear to have been drawn so as to include it. Two main streets, now called the Strada di Nola and the Strada dell' Abbondanza, cross the town from SW. to NE. The main streets from NW. to SE. are less distinct, but the Strada Stabiana certainly ran from wall to wall. While there is some appearance of symmetry in the streets generally, it does not go very far; there is hardly a right angle, or any close approach to a right angle, at any street corner.
As we know it today, Pompeii is an irregular oval area of about 160 acres, situated on a small natural hill and surrounded by a stone wall nearly two miles long (fig. 13). Originally, there was access to the sea on the west side, but the walls here have either disappeared or haven't been uncovered yet. Near this end of the town is the Forum, with the main temples and public buildings around it. At the east end of the town, nearly 1200 yards from the western end, is the amphitheater, and the town walls seem to have been designed to include it. Two main streets, now known as the Strada di Nola and the Strada dell' Abbonanza, run through the town from southwest to northeast. The main streets from northwest to southeast are less clear, but the Strada Stabiana definitely stretched from wall to wall. While there is some sense of symmetry in the streets overall, it's limited; there are hardly any right angles or anything close to a right angle at the street corners.
It is generally held, as Mau has argued, that the whole town was laid out at once, perhaps during the Etruscan period, on one plan of streets crossing at right angles. Two principal streets, those now styled the Strada di Mercurio and the Strada di Nola, are considered to be the main streets of this earliest town-plan, and to give it its general direction. A third main street, the Strada Stabiana, which cuts obliquely across from the Vesuvian to the Stabian Gate and mars the supposed symmetry of this town-plan, is ascribed to the influence of a small natural depression along which it runs, while a small area east of the Forum, which also breaks loose from the general scheme, is thought to have been laid out abnormally in order to remedy the effect of this obliquity.[48]
It is commonly believed, as Mau pointed out, that the entire town was designed all at once, possibly during the Etruscan period, following a street plan with roads intersecting at right angles. The two main streets, known today as the Strada di Mercurio and the Strada di Nola, are regarded as the primary streets of this original town layout and help define its overall direction. A third major street, the Strada Stabiana, which runs diagonally from the Vesuvian Gate to the Stabian Gate and disrupts the supposed symmetry of the town plan, is thought to have been influenced by a small natural depression that it follows. Additionally, a small area to the east of the Forum, which also deviates from the overall layout, is believed to have been designed in an unusual way to offset the impact of this irregularity.[48]
This theory is open to objections. In the first place the streets (even apart from those just east of the Forum) do not really form one symmetrical plan. Region VI fits very ill with Regions I and III. Both indicate systematic planning. But Region VI is laid out in oblong blocks 110 ft. wide and either 310 ft. or 480 ft. long, while Regions I and III are made up of approximately square blocks about 200 ft. each way. Moreover, the orientation of the blocks is different. Those in Region VI follow the lines of the Strada di Mercurio; those of Regions I and II, and perhaps also of Region V, are dominated by the Strada Stabiana. Yet there is no obvious reason why this difference should not have been avoided; it results, indeed, in awkward corners and inconvenient spaces. Nor, again, can we accept as in any degree adequate the cause assigned by Mau for the odd orientation of the streets next to the east side of the Forum.
This theory has its flaws. First of all, the streets (even those just east of the Forum) don't actually create one symmetrical layout. Region VI clashes poorly with Regions I and III. Both of those regions show systematic planning. But Region VI is arranged in rectangular blocks 110 ft. wide and either 310 ft. or 480 ft. long, while Regions I and III consist of roughly square blocks about 200 ft. each way. Additionally, the orientation of the blocks is different. The blocks in Region VI align with the Strada di Mercurio; the blocks in Regions I and II, and possibly Region V, are aligned with the Strada Stabiana. There’s no clear reason why this difference couldn't have been avoided; it actually leads to awkward corners and inconvenient spaces. Furthermore, we can't accept Mau’s explanation for the peculiar orientation of the streets next to the east side of the Forum as in any way satisfactory.
These streets which lie round and east of the Forum suggest a different development. Pompeii may have begun with a little Oscan town planted in what became its south-western corner, near the Water-Gate and the Forum, within the area of Regions II and IV. Here is a little network of streets, about 300 by 400 yds. across (25 acres), which harmonizes ill with the streets in the rest of the town, which lies close to the river-haven on the Sarno, which includes the Forum and Basilica—probably the oldest public sites, though not the oldest surviving structures, in Pompeii—and which is large enough to have formed the greater part or even the whole of a prehistoric city. The earliest building as yet excavated at Pompeii, the Doric Temple, with its precinct now known as the Forum Triangulare, stood on the edge of this area looking out from its high cliff over the plain of the Sarno. Originally this Temple may have stood just within the first town-wall, or perhaps just without it, sheltered by the precipice which it crowns. This area has all the appearance of an 'Altstadt'. No doubt it has been much altered by later changes. In particular, Forum and Basilica have grown far beyond their first proportions, and the buildings which surround them have been added, altered, enlarged out of all resemblance to the original plan. Nevertheless, this theory seems to account better than any other for this curious little corner of streets that are hardly regular even in their relations to one another and are wholly irreconcilable to the rest of the town.
These streets, which are located around and east of the Forum, suggest a different kind of development. Pompeii may have started as a small Oscan settlement planted in what became its southwestern corner, near the Water-Gate and the Forum, within Regions II and IV. There’s a small network of streets about 300 by 400 yards across (25 acres) that doesn’t really fit with the streets in the rest of the town, which is close to the river-haven on the Sarno and includes the Forum and Basilica—probably the oldest public sites, though not the oldest surviving buildings, in Pompeii. This area is large enough to have made up most or even all of a prehistoric city. The earliest building excavated at Pompeii, the Doric Temple, with its precinct now known as the Forum Triangulare, was positioned on the edge of this area overlooking the Sarno plain from its high cliff. Originally, this Temple may have been just inside the first town-wall or maybe just outside it, protected by the cliff it sits on. This area has the appearance of an 'Altstadt.' It's likely been significantly changed by later developments. In particular, the Forum and Basilica have expanded far beyond their initial sizes, and the surrounding buildings have been added, altered, and enlarged to the point of being unrecognizable compared to the original layout. Still, this theory seems to explain better than any other this odd little corner of streets that are hardly regular in their layout and are entirely incompatible with the rest of the town.
Round this primitive city grew up the greater Pompeii. The growth must have been rather by two or three distinct accretions than a gradual and continuous development. At present we cannot trace these stages. To do that we must wait till the excavations can be carried deeper down, and till the other half of the city has been uncovered, or at least till the lines of its streets and the shapes of its house-blocks have been determined, like those of Priene (p. 42), by special inquiry. All that is as yet certain is that Regions I, III, V, and VI were laid out, and their houses were (in part at least) in existence before—perhaps long before—80 B.C., when the Sullan colony was planted,[49] and we see also that Region VI is planned differently from I and III.
Around this basic settlement, the larger city of Pompeii developed. This growth likely happened through two or three distinct additions rather than a slow and steady expansion. Right now, we can’t identify these stages. To do that, we’ll need to wait until the excavations go deeper and until the other half of the city has been uncovered, or at least until we figure out the layout of its streets and the shapes of its blocks, similar to what was done in Priene (p. 42), through detailed research. What we do know for sure is that Regions I, III, V, and VI were organized, and their houses (at least some of them) existed before—possibly long before—80 B.C., when the Sullan colony was established, and we also observe that Region VI is designed differently from I and III.
Another fact claims notice. The town-planning of Pompeii is in the main trapezoidal, not rectangular. Neither its oblongs, nor its squares, nor its street-crossings exhibit true right angles, though many of the rooms and peristyles in the private houses are regular enough. In this feature Pompeii resembles the trapezoidal outlines of the Terremare (fig. 11). It resembles also much Roman military work, both of Republican and of Imperial date, which disregards the strict right angle and accepts squares and oblongs which are, so to say, askew. The motive of the Terremare is supposed to have been, as I have said above, that of providing an easy flow for the water in the encircling moat. The motive of various military camps may perhaps be found rather in a wish to secure the same area as that of an orthodox rectangle, even though the ground forbade the strict execution of the orthodox figure. Whatever the reason, the trapezoidal house-blocks of Pompeii exhibit a feature which is not alien to the earlier town-planning of Italy, though it is strange to the cities of Greece.
Another fact worth noting is that the town layout of Pompeii is largely trapezoidal, not rectangular. Its rectangles, squares, and intersections don’t have true right angles, although many of the rooms and peristyles in the private homes are regular enough. In this regard, Pompeii is similar to the trapezoidal shapes of the Terremare (fig. 11). It also resembles a lot of Roman military constructions, both from the Republican and Imperial periods, which do not adhere to strict right angles and have squares and rectangles that are somewhat skewed. The purpose of the Terremare, as I mentioned earlier, was likely to facilitate an easy flow of water in the surrounding moat. The reasoning behind various military camps may be more about wanting to maintain the same area as a standard rectangle, even if the terrain made it impossible to achieve the traditional shape exactly. Whatever the reason, the trapezoidal house blocks in Pompeii display a characteristic that is not unfamiliar to earlier town planning in Italy, even though it is unusual in Greek cities.
Norba.
Norba.
Not only do we need to know more of Pompeii itself. We need evidence also from other Italian towns of similar age. Here our ignorance is deep. Only one site which can help has been even tentatively explored. Norba, which once crowned a spur of the Monti Lepini above the Pontine marshes, was founded as a Roman town, according to the orthodox chronology, in 492 B.C.[50] But the received chronology of the earlier Republic, minute as it looks, probably deserves no more credence than the equally minute but mainly fictitious dates assigned by the Saxon Chronicle to the beginnings of English History. Actual remains found at Norba suggest rather that it was founded (not necessarily by Rome) about, or a little before, 300 B.C.; it is therefore later than the Terremare and Marzabotto, and later also than the Oscan age of Pompeii. On the other hand, it came to an end in the Sullan period (82 B.C.). Its excavation has little more than begun, but it already indicates a scheme of streets somewhat resembling that of Pompeii,[51] and it is a useful adjunct to our better knowledge of the more famous town. The two together furnish examples of the town-planning of middle Italy of about 400-300 B.C., in days that are only half historic, and thus help to fill the gap between the Terremare and the fully developed system of the Roman Imperial period.
We need to learn more about Pompeii itself, but we also need evidence from other similar-aged Italian towns. Here, our knowledge is lacking. Only one site that could help has been somewhat explored. Norba, which once sat on a ridge of the Monti Lepini above the Pontine marshes, is believed to have been founded as a Roman town in 492 B.C., according to traditional timelines. However, the accepted chronology of the early Republic, as detailed as it seems, is probably no more reliable than the mostly fictional dates ascribed by the Saxon Chronicle to the beginnings of English history. Actual remains found at Norba suggest it may have been founded (not necessarily by Rome) around or just before 300 B.C.; this makes it later than the Terremare and Marzabotto and also later than the Oscan period of Pompeii. On the other hand, it ended during the Sullan period (82 B.C.). Excavation there has only just started, but it already reveals a street layout that somewhat resembles that of Pompeii, and it serves as a useful addition to our understanding of the more famous town. Together, the two provide examples of town planning in central Italy around 400-300 B.C., during a time that is only partially documented, thus helping to bridge the gap between the Terremare and the fully developed Roman Imperial period.
It may be permitted in this context to add a plan of a north Italian city, in which some of the modern streets recall one quarter of Pompeii (fig. 14). Modena, the Roman Mutina, was founded as a 'colonia' with 2,000 male settlers in 183 B.C., and despite various misfortunes became one of the chief towns in the Lombard plain. One part of this town shows a row of long narrow blocks measuring about 20 x 160 metres (fig. 14, plan A), with a second row of shorter blocks of the same width and about half the length (plan B). These blocks have been much marred and curtailed by the inevitable changes of town life, but their symmetry cannot be accidental, and if they date back, as is quite possible, to Roman days, they may be put beside the Sixth Region of Pompeii which contains two rows of similar blocks.[52]
It might be appropriate here to include a map of a northern Italian city, where some modern streets remind one of a section of Pompeii (fig. 14). Modena, known in Roman times as Mutina, was established as a 'colonia' with 2,000 male settlers in 183 B.C. Despite facing various challenges, it became one of the main towns in the Lombard plain. One area of this city features a series of long, narrow blocks measuring about 20 x 160 meters (fig. 14, plan A), along with a second row of shorter blocks of the same width but about half the length (plan B). These blocks have been significantly altered and reduced due to the ongoing changes of urban life, but their symmetry seems unlikely to be coincidental. If they do date back to Roman times, as is quite possible, they can be compared to the Sixth Region of Pompeii, which includes two rows of similar blocks.[52]
FIG. 14.
MODENA
(See p. 69.)
FIG. 14.
MODENA
(See p. 69.)
(iv) There remains, fourthly, evidence relating to early Rome itself, and to customs and observances which obtained there. These customs belong to the three fields of religion, agrarian land-settlement and war. All three exhibit the same principle, the division of a definite space by two straight lines crossing at right angles at its centre, and (if need be) the further division of such space by other lines parallel to the two main lines. The Roman augur who asked the will of Heaven marked off a square piece of sky or earth—his templum—into four quarters; in them he sought for his signs. The Roman general who encamped his troops, laid out their tents on a rectangular pattern governed by the same idea. The commissioners who assigned farming-plots on the public domains to emigrant citizens of Rome, planned these plots on the same rectangular scheme—as the map of rural Italy is witness to this day.
(iv) Lastly, there is evidence related to early Rome and its customs and practices. These customs fall into three categories: religion, land settlement, and war. All three reflect the same principle: dividing a specific area with two straight lines that intersect at right angles in the center, and if necessary, further dividing that area with additional lines parallel to the two main lines. The Roman augur, who sought guidance from the gods, would outline a square section of sky or land—his templum—into four parts, where he looked for signs. The Roman general who set up camp for his troops arranged their tents in a rectangular layout based on the same concept. The officials who assigned farmland in the public domains to relocating Roman citizens also designed these plots using the same rectangular scheme, as the map of rural Italy still shows today.
These Roman customs are very ancient. Later Romans deemed them as ancient as Rome itself, and, though such patriotic traditions belong rather to politics than to history, we find the actual customs well established when our knowledge first becomes full, about 200 B.C.[53] The Roman camp, for example, had reached its complex form long before the middle of the second century, when Polybius described it in words. Here, one can hardly doubt, are things older even than Rome. Scholars have talked, indeed, of a Greek origin or of an Etruscan origin, and the technical term for the Roman surveying instrument, groma, has been explained as the Greek word 'gnomon', borrowed through an Etruscan medium. But the name of a single instrument would not carry with it the origin of a whole art, even if this etymology were more certain than it actually is. Save for the riddle of Marzabotto (p. 61), we have no reason to connect the Etruscans with town-planning or with the Roman system of surveying. When the Roman antiquary Varro alleged that 'the Romans founded towns with Etruscan ritual', he set the fashion for many later assertions by Roman and modern writers.[54] But he did not prove his allegation, and it is not so clear as is generally assumed, that he meant 'Etruscan ritual' to include architectural town-planning as well as religious ceremonial.
These Roman customs are very old. Later Romans considered them as ancient as Rome itself, and while these patriotic traditions are more about politics than history, we see the actual customs firmly established by around 200 B.C.[53] The Roman camp, for instance, had developed into its complex form long before the middle of the second century, when Polybius described it. Clearly, some of these practices are even older than Rome. Scholars have indeed discussed a Greek or Etruscan origin, and the technical term for the Roman surveying tool, groma, has been linked to the Greek word 'gnomon', possibly borrowed through Etruscan influence. However, the name of one tool doesn’t imply the origin of an entire art, even if this etymology were more certain than it actually is. Apart from the mystery of Marzabotto (p. 61), there's no reason to connect the Etruscans with town planning or the Roman surveying system. When the Roman scholar Varro claimed that 'the Romans founded towns using Etruscan rituals', he set a trend for many later claims by Roman and modern writers.[54] But he didn’t provide proof for his claim, and it’s not as clear as commonly thought that he intended 'Etruscan rituals' to encompass architectural town planning in addition to religious ceremonies.
These are Italian customs, far older than the beginnings of Greek influence on Rome, older than the systematic town-planning of the Greek lands, and older also than the Etruscans. They should be treated as an ancestral heritage of the Italian tribes kindred with Rome, and should be connected with the plan of Pompeii and with the far older Terremare. Many generations in the family tree have no doubt been lost. The genealogy can only be taken as conjectural. But it is a reasonable conjecture.
These are Italian traditions, much older than the start of Greek influence on Rome, older than the organized city planning in Greek areas, and even older than the Etruscans. They should be regarded as a legacy from the Italian tribes related to Rome and should be linked to the layout of Pompeii and the much older Terremare. Many generations in the family tree have likely been lost. The genealogy can only be viewed as speculation. But it's a logical guess.
In their original character these customs were probably secular rather than religious. They took their rise as methods proved by primitive practice to be good methods for laying out land for farming or for encamping armies. But in early communities all customs that touched the State were quasi-religious; to ensure their due performance, they were carried out by religious officials. At Rome, therefore, more especially in early times, the augurs were concerned with the delimitation alike of farm-plots and of soldiers' tents. They testified that the settlement, whether rural or military, was duly made according to the ancestral customs sanctioned by the gods. After-ages secularized once more, and as they secularized, they also introduced science. It was, perhaps, Greek influence which brought in a stricter use of the rectangle and a greater care for regular planning.
In their original form, these customs were likely more about practical needs than religious beliefs. They originated as effective methods, discovered through early practice, for organizing land for farming or setting up military camps. However, in early societies, any customs related to the state took on a quasi-religious nature; to ensure they were properly executed, they were overseen by religious officials. In Rome, especially in its early days, the augurs were involved in defining both farmland and soldiers' encampments. They confirmed that the settlement, whether it was agricultural or military, was made according to traditional practices approved by the gods. As time went on, these practices became more secular again, and with that shift, science was also introduced. The influence of Greek culture may have led to a more precise use of the rectangle and a stronger emphasis on organized planning.
It may be asked how all this applies to the planning of towns. We possess certainly no such clear evidence with respect to towns as with respect to divisions agrarian or military. But the town-plans which we shall meet in the following chapters show very much the same outlines as those of the camp or of the farm plots. They are based on the same essential element of two straight lines crossing at right angles in the centre of a (usually) square or oblong plot. This is an element which does not occur, at least in quite the same form, at Priene or in other Greek towns of which we know the plans, and it may well be called Italian. We need not hesitate to put town and camp side by side, and to accept the statement that the Roman camp was a city in arms. Nor need we hesitate to conjecture further that in the planning of the town, as in that of the camp, Greek influence may have added a more rigid use of rectangular 'insulae'. When that occurred, will be discussed in Chapter VI.
One might wonder how all of this relates to city planning. We certainly don't have the same clear evidence for towns as we do for agricultural or military divisions. However, the city layouts we’ll explore in the following chapters closely resemble those of camps or farm plots. They rely on the same fundamental feature of two straight lines intersecting at right angles in the center of a (usually) square or rectangular area. This feature doesn’t appear, at least not in the same way, in Priene or other Greek cities whose plans we know, and it can rightly be called Italian. We should feel confident putting towns and camps side by side and accepting the notion that the Roman camp was effectively a city prepared for battle. We can also speculate that in the design of cities, just as in that of camps, Greek influence may have led to a stricter use of rectangular 'insulae.' When that took place will be discussed in Chapter VI.
Whether the nomenclature of the augur, the soldier and the land-commissioner was adopted in the towns, is a more difficult, but fortunately a less important question. Modern writers speak of the cardo and the decumanus of Roman towns, and even apply to them more highly technical terms such as striga and scamnum. For the use of cardo in relation to towns there is some evidence (p. 107). But it is very slight, and for the use of the other terms there is next to no evidence at all.[55] The silence alike of literature and of inscriptions shows that they were, at the best, theoretical expressions, confined to the surveyor's office.[56]
Whether the titles of the augur, the soldier, and the land-commissioner were used in the towns is a tougher question, but luckily, it's less significant. Modern writers refer to the cardo and the decumanus of Roman towns, and even use more technical terms like striga and scamnum. There is some evidence for the use of cardo in relation to towns (p. 107). However, that evidence is minimal, and there’s virtually no evidence for the other terms at all. [55] The silence from both literature and inscriptions indicates that they were, at best, theoretical concepts, limited to the surveyor's office. [56]
CHAPTER VI
ITALIAN TOWN-PLANNING:
THE LATE REPUBLIC AND EARLY EMPIRE
CHAPTER VI
ITALIAN TOWN PLANNING:
THE LATE REPUBLIC AND EARLY EMPIRE
During the later Republic and the earlier Empire many Italian towns were founded or re-founded. To this result several causes contributed. Like the Greeks before them, the Romans of the Republic sent out from time to time compact bodies of emigrants whenever the home population had grown too large for its narrow space. These bodies were each large enough to form a small town, and thus each migration meant—or might mean—the foundation of a new town full-grown from its birth. The Greeks generally established new and politically independent towns. The Romans followed another method. Their colonists remained subject to Rome and constituted new centres of Roman rule, small quasi-fortresses of Roman dominion in outlying lands. Often the military need for such a stronghold had more to do with the foundation of a 'colonia' than the presence of too many mouths in the city. Cicero, speaking of a 'colonia' planted at Narbo (now Narbonne) in southern Gaul about 118 B.C., and planted perhaps with some regard to an actual overflow of population in contemporary Rome, calls it nevertheless 'a colonia of Roman citizens, a watch-tower of the Roman people, a bulwark against the wild tribes of Gaul'. Those words state very clearly the main object of many such foundations under Republic and Empire alike.
During the later Republic and early Empire, many Italian towns were established or re-established. Several factors contributed to this. Like the Greeks before them, the Romans of the Republic occasionally sent out groups of emigrants whenever the local population became too large for the limited space. Each group was sizable enough to create a small town, so each migration could lead to the founding of a fully developed new town from the start. The Greeks usually set up new, politically independent towns. The Romans took a different approach. Their colonists remained loyal to Rome and created new centers of Roman control, small quasi-fortresses of Roman power in distant lands. Often, the military need for such strongholds played a bigger role in establishing a 'colonia' than the issue of too many people in the city. Cicero, referring to a 'colonia' established at Narbo (now Narbonne) in southern Gaul around 118 B.C., which may have been influenced by an actual overflow of population in contemporary Rome, nevertheless describes it as "a colonia of Roman citizens, a watch-tower of the Roman people, a bulwark against the wild tribes of Gaul." Those words clearly outline the main purpose of many such foundations during both the Republic and Empire.
Another reason for the establishment of 'coloniae' may be found in the history of the dying Republic and nascent Empire. During the civil wars of Sulla, of Caesar and of Octavian, huge armies were brought into the field by the rival military chiefs. As each conflict ended, huge masses of soldiery had to be discharged almost at once. For the sake of future peace it was imperative that these men should be quickly settled in some form of civic life in which they would abide. The form chosen was the familiar form of the 'colonia'. The time-expired soldiers were treated—not altogether unreasonably—as surplus population, and they were planted out in large bodies, sometimes in existing towns which needed population or at least a loyal population, sometimes in new towns established full-grown for the purpose. This method of dealing with discharged soldiers was continued during the early Empire, though it was then employed somewhat intermittently and the 'coloniae' were oftener planted in the provinces than in Italy itself; indeed the establishment of Italian 'coloniae', as distinct from grants of colonial rank by way of honour, almost ceased after A.D. 68.
Another reason for the establishment of 'coloniae' can be found in the history of the declining Republic and emerging Empire. During the civil wars of Sulla, Caesar, and Octavian, massive armies were mobilized by the competing military leaders. When each conflict ended, large numbers of soldiers needed to be released almost immediately. For the sake of future peace, it was crucial to quickly settle these men into some form of civic life they would adopt. The chosen form was the familiar 'colonia'. The discharged soldiers were considered—not entirely unreasonably—as surplus population, and they were relocated in large groups, sometimes in existing towns that needed more residents or at least loyal ones, and sometimes in newly established towns created specifically for this purpose. This approach to handling discharged soldiers continued during the early Empire, although it was used somewhat sporadically, and 'coloniae' were more often established in the provinces than in Italy itself; in fact, the creation of Italian 'coloniae', apart from honors given through colonial rank, nearly stopped after A.D. 68.
It is not easy to determine the number of such new foundations of towns in Italy. Some seventy or eighty are recorded from the early and middle periods of the Republic—previous to about 120 B.C.; Sulla added a dozen or so; Octavian (Augustus) in his earlier years established or helped to establish about thirty.[57] But these figures can hardly represent the whole facts. The one certainty is that, through the causes just detailed, a very large number of the Italian towns were either founded full-grown or re-founded under new conditions during the later Roman Republic and the earlier Empire. Few towns in Italy developed as Rome herself developed, expanding from small beginnings in a slow continuous growth which was governed by convenience and opportunism and untouched by any new birth or systematic reconstruction.
It’s not easy to figure out how many new towns were founded in Italy. About seventy or eighty are recorded from the early and middle periods of the Republic—before around 120 B.C.; Sulla added about a dozen more; and Octavian (Augustus) established or helped to create around thirty in his early years.[57] But these numbers probably don’t reflect the complete picture. The only certainty is that, due to the reasons mentioned earlier, a large number of Italian towns were either founded outright or rebuilt under new circumstances during the later Roman Republic and the early Empire. Few towns in Italy grew in the same way that Rome did, which expanded from small beginnings in a slow, continuous process shaped by convenience and opportunity, without undergoing any major re-founding or organized reconstruction.
Coincident with these processes of urban expansion, we find, in many towns which can be connected with the later Republic or the Empire, examples of a definite type of town-planning. This type has obvious analogies with earlier Italy and with the town-planning of the Greek world, but is also in certain respects distinct from either. The town areas with which we have now to deal are small squares or oblongs; they are divided by two main streets into four parts and by other and parallel streets into square or oblong house-blocks ('insulae'), and the rectangular scheme is carried through with some geometrical precision. The 'insulae', whatever their shape—square or oblong—are fairly uniform throughout. Only, those which line the north side of the E. and W. street are often larger than the rest (pp. 88, 125).[58] The two main streets appear to follow some method of orientation connected with augural science. As a rule, one of them runs north and south, the other east and west, and now and again the latter street seems to point to the spot where the sun rises above the horizon on the dawn of some day important in the history of the town.[59]
Coinciding with these processes of urban growth, we see, in many towns linked to the later Republic or the Empire, examples of a specific type of town planning. This type has clear similarities with earlier Italy and the town planning of the Greek world, but is also distinct from both in some ways. The town areas we're discussing are small squares or rectangles; they are divided by two main streets into four sections and by additional parallel streets into square or rectangular house blocks ('insulae'), and the rectangular layout is implemented with some geometric precision. The 'insulae', regardless of their shape—square or rectangular—are quite uniform throughout. However, those that line the north side of the east and west street are often larger than the others (pp. 88, 125).[58] The two main streets seem to follow some method of orientation related to augural science. Generally, one runs north and south, while the other runs east and west, and occasionally the latter street seems to point to where the sun rises above the horizon on significant days in the town's history.[59]
The public buildings of these towns are in general somewhat small and arranged with little attempt at processional or architectural splendour; they seldom dominate or even cross the scheme of streets. Open spaces are rare; the Forum, which corresponds to the Greek Agora, contains, like that, a paved open court, but this court is almost as much enclosed as the cloister of a mediaeval church or the quadrangle of a mediaeval college. Theatre and amphitheatre[60] might, no doubt, reach huge dimensions, but externally they were more often massive than ornamental and the amphitheatre often stood outside the city walls. Here and there a triumphal arch spanned a road where it approached a town, and provided the only architectural vista to be seen in most of these Roman towns.
The public buildings in these towns are generally quite small and don’t show much effort in terms of grand design or architecture; they rarely stand out or even intersect with the street layout. Open spaces are uncommon; the Forum, which is similar to the Greek Agora, features a paved open area, but this area is nearly as enclosed as the cloister of a medieval church or the quadrangle of a medieval college. The theater and amphitheater[60] could certainly be large, but on the outside, they were usually more solid than decorative, and the amphitheater often stood outside the city walls. Occasionally, a triumphal arch would span a road as it approached a town, offering the only architectural view in most of these Roman towns.
Dimensions, of course, varied. There was no normal size for an infant town. Some, when first established, covered little more than 30 acres, the area of mediaeval Warwick. Others were four or five times as spacious; they were twice or nearly twice as large as mediaeval Oxford, no mean city in thirteenth-century England. Most of them, doubtless, grew beyond their first limits; a few spread as far as a square mile, twice the extent of mediaeval London. Similarly the 'insulae' varied from town to town. In one, Timgad, they were only 70 to 80 ft. square. Often they measured 75 to 80 yds. square, rather more than an acre, as at Florence, Turin, Pavia, Piacenza.[61] Occasionally they were larger, but they seldom exceeded three acres, and their average fell below the prevalent practice of modern chess-board planning.
Dimensions, of course, varied. There was no standard size for a newly established town. Some, when first created, covered just over 30 acres, the area of medieval Warwick. Others were four to five times larger; they were two or nearly two times as big as medieval Oxford, no small city in thirteenth-century England. Most of them, undoubtedly, expanded beyond their initial boundaries; a few reached up to a square mile, double the size of medieval London. Similarly, the 'insulae' differed from town to town. In one, Timgad, they measured only 70 to 80 feet square. Often they were 75 to 80 yards square, a bit more than an acre, as seen in Florence, Turin, Pavia, Piacenza.[61] Occasionally they were bigger, but they rarely exceeded three acres, and their average fell below the common practice of modern chessboard planning.
In most towns, though not in all, the dimensions of the 'insulae' show a common element. In length or in breadth or in both, they usually approximate to 120 ft. or some multiple of that. The figure is significant. The unit of Roman land-surveying, the 'iugerum', was a rectangular space of 120 by 240 Roman feet—in English feet a tiny trifle less—and it seems to follow that 'insulae' were often laid out with definite reference to the 'iugerum'. The divisions may not have always been mathematically correct; our available plans are seldom good enough to let us judge of that,[62] and we do not know whether we ought to count the surface of the streets with the measurement of the 'insulae'. But the general practice seems clear, and it extended even to Britain (p. 129), and though blocks forming exactly a 'iugerum' or a half 'iugerum' are rare, the Italian land-measure certainly affected the civilization of the provincial towns.
In most towns, although not all, the sizes of the 'insulae' tend to share a common feature. In length, width, or both, they typically measure around 120 feet or some multiple of that. This measurement is important. The Roman land-surveying unit, the 'iugerum', was a rectangular area of 120 by 240 Roman feet—slightly less in English feet—and it seems that 'insulae' were often designed with this 'iugerum' in mind. The divisions might not have always been mathematically exact; our existing plans are rarely detailed enough to assess that, and we don’t know if we should include the street areas in the measurement of the 'insulae'. However, the general trend is quite clear, and it was seen even in Britain (p. 129). Although blocks that measure exactly a 'iugerum' or half a 'iugerum' are uncommon, the Italian land measurement definitely influenced the development of the provincial towns.
In this system perhaps the most peculiar feature is the intermixture of square and oblong 'insulae'. It is not merely the variation which can be traced in Priene (fig. 5), where some blocks are rather more square or oblong than others, but where all approach the same norm. The Roman towns which we are now considering show two varieties of house-blocks. Sometimes the blocks are square; sometimes, perhaps more often, they are oblong approximating to a square, like the blocks of Priene. But in a few cases, as at Naples among the more ancient, and at Carthage among the later foundations, they are oblong and the oblongs are very long and narrow.
In this system, one of the most unusual features is the mix of square and rectangular 'insulae'. It's not just the differences seen in Priene (fig. 5), where some blocks are a bit more square or rectangular than others, but where they all come close to the same standard. The Roman towns we're looking at now show two types of house blocks. Sometimes the blocks are square; other times, often, they are rectangular, coming close to a square shape, similar to the blocks in Priene. However, in a few cases, like in Naples among the older buildings and in Carthage among the more recent ones, the blocks are rectangular and those rectangles are very long and narrow.
It is hard to detect any principle underlying the use of these various forms. No doubt differences of historical origin are ultimately the causes of the mixture. But our present knowledge does not reveal these origins. The evidence is, indeed, contradictory at every point. If the Graeco-Macedonian fashion be quoted as precedent for square or squarish 'insulae', the Terremare show the same. If the theoretical scheme of the earlier Roman camp seemed based on the long narrow oblong, the actual remains of legionary encampments of the second century B.C. at Numantia include many squares. If one part of Pompeii exhibits oblongs, another part is made up of squares. If Piacenza, first founded in north Italy about 183 B.C., and founded again a hundred and fifty years later, is laid out in squares, its coeval neighbour Modena prefers the oblong. If the old Greek city of Naples embodies an extreme type of oblong, so does the later Augustan Carthage (pp. 100, 113). In the historic period, it would seem, no sharp line was drawn, or felt to exist, between the various types of 'insulae'. In the main, the square or squarish-oblong was preferred. Local accidents, such as the convenience of the site at Carthage, led to occasional adoption of the narrower oblong.
It's difficult to identify a consistent principle behind the use of these different forms. Clearly, historical differences are ultimately the reasons for the mix. However, our current understanding doesn't clarify these origins. The evidence is, in fact, contradictory at every turn. If the Graeco-Macedonian style is used as a precedent for square or squarish 'insulae', the Terremare show the same thing. If the theoretical design of the earlier Roman camp appears to be based on long narrow rectangles, the actual remains of legionary camps from the second century B.C. at Numantia contain many squares. One part of Pompeii displays rectangles, while another is made up of squares. If Piacenza, founded in northern Italy around 183 B.C., and reestablished a hundred and fifty years later, is laid out in squares, its contemporary neighbor Modena prefers rectangles. If the ancient Greek city of Naples represents an extreme version of a rectangle, so does later Augustan Carthage (pp. 100, 113). In the historic period, it seems there was no clear distinction, or sense of distinction, between the various types of 'insulae'. Overall, the square or squarish-rectangle was favored. Local factors, such as the site convenience in Carthage, occasionally resulted in the adoption of the narrower rectangle.
The Roman land-surveyors, it is true, distinguished the square and the oblong in a very definite way. The square, they alleged, was proper to the Italian land or to such provincial soil as enjoyed the privilege of being taxed—or freed from taxation—on the Italian scale. The oblong they connected with the ordinary tax-paying soil of the provinces. This distinction, however, was not carried out even in the agrarian surveys with which these writers were especially concerned,[63] and it applies still less to the towns. No doubt it is a fiction of the office. It would be only human nature if the surveyors, finding both forms in use, should invent a theory to account for them.
The Roman land surveyors definitely distinguished between squares and rectangles. They claimed that squares were typical of Italian land or provincial soil that had the privilege of being taxed—or exempt from taxes—on the Italian scale. They associated rectangles with the regular tax-paying soil in the provinces. However, this distinction wasn't consistently applied even in the land surveys these writers focused on,[63] and it holds even less for the towns. It’s likely just a fabrication of the office. It’s only natural that the surveyors, observing both shapes in use, would create a theory to explain them.
The system sketched in the preceding paragraphs seems, as has been said (p. 73), to have sprung from a fusion of Greek or Graeco-Macedonian with Italian customs. Roman town-planning, like Roman art, was recast under Hellenistic influence and thus gained mathematical precision and symmetry. When this happened is doubtful. Foreign scholars often ascribe it to Augustus and find a special connexion between the first emperor and the chess-board town-plan. But the architect Vitruvius, who dedicated his book to Augustus and who gives some brief notice to town-planning, urges strongly that towns should not be laid out on the chess-board pattern, but rather on an eight-sided or (as we might call it) star-shaped plan.[64] He would hardly have denounced a scheme which had been specially taken up by his patron, nor indeed does his criticism of the chess-board system sound as if he were denouncing a novelty in Italian building.
The system described in the previous paragraphs seems, as mentioned (p. 73), to have emerged from a mix of Greek or Graeco-Macedonian and Italian traditions. Roman town planning, like Roman art, was reshaped under Hellenistic influence and thus gained mathematical accuracy and symmetry. The timing of this change is uncertain. Scholars from other countries often attribute it to Augustus and note a particular connection between the first emperor and the grid town plan. However, the architect Vitruvius, who dedicated his book to Augustus and briefly discusses town planning, strongly advocates that towns should not be designed in a grid pattern, but rather in an eight-sided or what we might call a star-shaped layout.[64] He wouldn’t have criticized a plan that had been specifically adopted by his patron, nor does his critique of the grid system suggest he is condemning a new trend in Italian architecture.
On the other hand there seems no great difficulty in the idea that the regularization of the old Italian town-plan by Greek influence took place spontaneously in the late Republic. We cannot, indeed, date the change. It must remain doubtful whether it came by degrees or all at once,[65] and whether the right-angled plans of towns like Aquileia[66] or Piacenza belonged to their first foundation, i.e. to about 180 B.C., or to later rearrangements. But it seems reasonable to believe that a Graeco-Italian rectangular fashion of town-planning did supersede an earlier, irregular, Italian style, and had become supreme before the end of the Republic.
On the other hand, there doesn't seem to be much difficulty in accepting that the old Italian town plan was influenced by Greek ideas, and this happened naturally during the late Republic. We can’t pinpoint when exactly the change occurred. It’s uncertain whether it happened gradually or all at once, [65] and whether the grid layouts of towns like Aquileia [66] or Piacenza were established at their founding, around 180 B.C., or were part of later redesigns. However, it seems reasonable to think that a Graeco-Italian rectangular style of town planning replaced an earlier, irregular Italian style and had become dominant by the end of the Republic.
CHAPTER VII
INSTANCES OF ITALIAN TOWN-PLANS
CHAPTER VII
EXAMPLES OF ITALIAN TOWN PLANS
The preceding chapters have dealt with the origins and general character of the Italian town-plan. We pass now to the remains which it has left in its own home, in Italy. These are many. In one city indeed, the greatest of all, no town-planning can be detected. Like Athens and Sparta, Rome shows that conservatism which marks so many capital cities. No part of it, so far as we know, was laid out on a rectangular or indeed on any plan.[67] It grew as it could. Its builders, above all its imperial builders, cared much for spectacular effects and architectural pomp. Even in late Republican times the gloomy mass of the Tabularium and the temples of the Capitol must have towered above the Forum in no mere accidental stateliness, and imperial Rome contained many buildings in many quarters to show that it was the capital of an Empire. But for town-planning we must go elsewhere.
The earlier chapters have focused on the origins and overall design of the Italian town plan. Now, we turn to the remnants it has left in its homeland, Italy. There are many. In one city, indeed the largest of all, no town planning can be recognized. Like Athens and Sparta, Rome exhibits the conservatism typical of many capital cities. As far as we know, no part of it was laid out in a rectangular or any systematic plan. It developed organically. Its builders, especially the imperial ones, prioritized grand effects and architectural splendor. Even in the later Republican period, the imposing structure of the Tabularium and the temples of the Capitol must have risen above the Forum with an undeniable elegance, and imperial Rome was filled with many buildings across various areas that demonstrated it was the capital of an Empire. But for actual town planning, we need to look elsewhere.
The sources of our knowledge are twofold. In a few cases archaeological excavation has laid bare the paving of Roman streets or the foundation of Roman house-blocks. More often mediaeval and modern streets seem to follow ancient lines and the ancient town-plan, or a part of it, survives in use to-day. Such survivals are especially common in the north of Italy. It is not, indeed, possible to gather a full list of them. He who would do that needs a longer series of good town-maps and good local histories than exist at present; he needs, too, a wider knowledge of mediaeval Italian history and a closer personal acquaintance with modern Italian towns, than a classical scholar can attempt. But much can be learnt even from our limited material.[68]
The sources of our knowledge are twofold. In some cases, archaeological digs have uncovered the paving of Roman streets or the foundations of Roman buildings. More often, medieval and modern streets seem to follow ancient paths, and parts of the ancient town layout are still in use today. Such remnants are especially common in northern Italy. It's not really possible to compile a complete list of them. Anyone attempting to do that would need a more extensive collection of reliable town maps and local histories than currently exist, as well as a deeper understanding of medieval Italian history and a closer personal experience with modern Italian towns than a classical scholar can manage. However, we can learn a lot even from the limited information we have. [68]
The evidence of the streets needs, however, to be checked in every case. It would be rash to assume a Roman origin for an Italian town simply because its streets are old and their plan rectangular. There are many rectangular towns of mediaeval or modern origin. Such is Terra Nova, near the ancient Gela in Sicily, built by Frederick Stupor Mundi early in the thirteenth century. Such, too, Livorno, built by the Medici in the sixteenth century. Such, too, the many little military colonies of the Italian Republics, dotted over parts of northern and middle Italy. Often it is easy to prove that, despite their chess-board plans, these towns do not stand on Roman sites. Often the inquiry leads into regions remote from the study of ancient history.
The evidence from the streets needs to be verified in every case. It would be unwise to assume a Roman origin for an Italian town just because its streets are old and laid out in a rectangular pattern. There are many rectangular towns that are of medieval or modern origin. For example, Terra Nova, near the ancient Gela in Sicily, was built by Frederick Stupor Mundi in the early thirteenth century. Livorno, built by the Medici in the sixteenth century, is another example. Additionally, many small military colonies established by the Italian Republics are scattered across northern and central Italy. Often, it's easy to show that, despite their grid patterns, these towns do not sit on Roman sites. The investigation frequently leads into areas far removed from the study of ancient history.
Fortunately, enough examples can be identified as Roman to serve our purpose. Some of these occur in the Lombardy plain where, both under the Republic and at the outset of the Empire, many 'coloniae' were planted full-grown and where town-life on the Roman model was otherwise developed. Not all these towns survive to-day; not all of the survivors retain clear traces of their Roman town-plan; in nine cases, at least, the streets seem unmistakably to follow Roman lines. Four of the nine date from early days; in the late third and the early second centuries (218-183 B.C.), Piacenza, Bologna, Parma, and Modena, were built as new towns with the rank of 'colonia'. The first three of these were later refounded, about 40-20 B.C.—whether their streets were then laid out afresh is an open question—and Turin and Brescia were added. In addition, Verona, Pavia, and Como won municipal status in or before this later date, though when or how they came to be laid out symmetrically is not certain.[69] And there are other less certain examples.
Fortunately, we can identify enough examples as Roman to meet our needs. Some of these are found in the Lombardy plain where, both during the Republic and at the beginning of the Empire, many established 'coloniae' were created and where urban life based on the Roman model developed. Not all of these towns exist today; not all of the surviving towns clearly show their Roman town layout; in at least nine instances, the streets appear to clearly follow Roman design. Four of the nine date back to early times; in the late third and early second centuries (218-183 B.C.), Piacenza, Bologna, Parma, and Modena were established as new towns with the status of 'colonia'. The first three were later rebuilt around 40-20 B.C.—whether their streets were redesigned at that time remains uncertain—and Turin and Brescia were added. Additionally, Verona, Pavia, and Como gained municipal status by or before this later date, although it is unclear when or how they were laid out in a symmetrical fashion. [69] And there are other examples that are less certain.
Other instances, but not so many, may be quoted from south of the Apennines. At Florence, for example, and at Lucca 'coloniae' were planted full-grown and the street-plans still record the fact. At Naples, at Herculaneum, perhaps at Sorrento,[70] proofs survive of similar planning. But the towns of central Italy were in great part more ancient than the era of precise town-planning, and many of them were perched in true Italian fashion on lofty crags—praeruptis oppida saxis—which gave no room for square or oblong house-blocks. In the period of the dying Republic and nascent Empire fewer 'coloniae' were planted here than in the north, while in much of southern Italy towns have in all ages been comparatively rare.
Other examples, though not as many, can be found south of the Apennines. For instance, in Florence and Lucca, 'coloniae' were established at full scale, and the street layouts still reflect this. In Naples, Herculaneum, and possibly Sorrento, there are indications of similar planning. However, the towns in central Italy were largely older than the time of detailed town-planning, and many were situated in true Italian style on steep cliffs—praeruptis oppida saxis—which didn’t allow for square or rectangular house blocks. During the period of the fading Republic and the rising Empire, fewer 'coloniae' were established here than in the north, and throughout much of southern Italy, towns have generally been quite rare.
In the towns just noted we can trace many, though not all, of the original house-blocks. Usually the blocks are square or nearly so, as at Turin, Verona, Pavia, Piacenza, Florence, Lucca. Less often they are long and even narrow rectangles, as at Modena, and Sorrento, and above all Naples, and as usual it is not easy to understand the reason for the difference (p. 80).
In the towns mentioned, we can see many, though not all, of the original house blocks. Typically, the blocks are square or nearly so, like in Turin, Verona, Pavia, Piacenza, Florence, and Lucca. Less frequently, they take the form of long and narrow rectangles, as seen in Modena, Sorrento, and especially Naples. As usual, it’s not easy to understand why there is this difference (p. 80).
Turin (fig. 15).
Turin (fig. 15).
Of all the examples of Roman town-planning known to us in Italy, Turin is by far the most famous.[71] Here the streets have survived almost intact, and excavations have confirmed the truth of the survival by revealing both the ancient road-metalling and the ancient town-walls and gates. Turin, Augusta Taurinorum, began about 28 B.C. as a 'colonia' planted by Augustus. Its walls enclosed an oblong of about 745 x 695 metres (127 acres).[72] The sides are represented (1) on the north by the Via Giulio, in the western part of which the southern edge of the street actually coincides with the line of the Roman town-wall, while further east the Porta Palatina enshrines an ancient gate; (2) on the west by the Via della Consolata, and the Via Siccardi, the east side of which latter street seems to stand upon the Roman town-wall; and (3) on the south by the Via della Cernaia and Via Teresa, the north side of which stands over the Roman southern town-wall. (4) The east wall agrees with no existing street but may be represented by a line drawn through the Carignano Theatre and the western front of the Palazzo Madama, which contains the actual towers of the Roman east gate.[73] The north-west corner, uncovered in 1884, is a sharp right angle. This feature recurs at Aosta and at Laibach (pp. 90, 116), both founded, like Turin, in the Augustan age, and seems to belong to that period; later, it gave place to the rounded angle visible at Timgad (p. 109) and in many Roman forts of the middle Empire.
Of all the examples of Roman town planning that we know of in Italy, Turin is by far the most famous.[71] Here, the streets have mostly remained intact, and excavations have confirmed this by uncovering both the ancient road surfaces and the old town walls and gates. Turin, originally known as Augusta Taurinorum, was established around 28 B.C. as a 'colonia' founded by Augustus. Its walls enclosed a rectangular area of about 745 x 695 meters (127 acres).[72] The sides are represented (1) on the north by Via Giulio, where the southern edge of the street actually aligns with the line of the Roman town wall, while further east, the Porta Palatina features an ancient gate; (2) on the west by Via della Consolata, and Via Siccardi, the east side of which seems to rest on the Roman town wall; and (3) on the south by Via della Cernaia and Via Teresa, the north side of which sits over the Roman southern town wall. (4) The east wall doesn’t match any existing street but might be represented by a line drawn through the Carignano Theatre and the western front of Palazzo Madama, which has the actual towers of the Roman east gate.[73] The north-west corner, uncovered in 1884, is a sharp right angle. This feature also appears at Aosta and Laibach (pp. 90, 116), both of which were founded, like Turin, during the Augustan age, and it seems to belong to that period; later, it was replaced by the rounded angle seen at Timgad (p. 109) and in many Roman forts of the middle Empire.
Of the interior buildings of the town little is known. The Forum perhaps stood near the present Palazzo di Città, and the Theatre was traced in 1899 in the north-east corner of the town, occupying apparently, a complete insula;[74] of the private houses nothing definite seems to be recorded.
Of the town's interior buildings, not much is known. The Forum may have been located near the current Palazzo di Città, and the Theatre was discovered in 1899 in the northeast corner of the town, apparently taking up an entire block; [74] of the private houses, nothing specific seems to be documented.
But the street-plan has survived intact, except in two outlying corners. The town was divided up into square or nearly square blocks, of which there were nine counting from east to west and eight from north to south. Most of these 'insulae' measured about 80 yds. square.[75] A few were larger, 80 x 120 yds.; these were ranged along the north side of the street now called Via Garibaldi (formerly Dora Grossa), which represents the Roman main street between the east and west gates—in the language of the Roman land-surveyors, the decumanus maximus. This street cut the town into two equal halves. The other divisions of the town were no less symmetrical. But, as there were nine 'insulae' from east to west, the main north and south street could not bisect the town. Indeed, the south gate seems to have had five house-blocks west of it and four east of it, while the Porta Palatina stands further west, with six blocks on the west side of it. The north and south gates, therefore, are not opposite.[76] Whether this was the original plan is not clear, nor is the age of the surviving walls and gates quite certain; the bonding courses in some of the masonry of the walls does not seem Augustan. But the street plan may unhesitatingly be assigned to the first establishment of the town, about 28 B.C. Since, it has been extended far beyond the Roman walls. Nearly all modern Turin has been laid out, bit by bit, in imitation and continuation of the original Roman lines.
But the street layout has remained unchanged, except in two outer areas. The town was divided into square or nearly square blocks, with nine blocks going from east to west and eight from north to south. Most of these blocks, known as 'insulae,' measured about 80 yards square. A few were larger, measuring 80 by 120 yards; these were located along the north side of the street now called Via Garibaldi (formerly Dora Grossa), which was the main Roman street between the east and west gates—in the terminology of Roman land-surveyors, the decumanus maximus. This street split the town into two equal parts. The other divisions of the town were equally balanced. However, since there were nine 'insulae' from east to west, the main north-south street could not perfectly cut the town in half. In fact, the south gate appears to have had five house-blocks to its west and four to its east, while the Porta Palatina is located further west, with six blocks on its west side. Therefore, the north and south gates are not aligned directly across from each other. Whether this was the original plan is unclear, and the age of the existing walls and gates is also uncertain; the bonding patterns in some of the masonry of the walls don't seem to date from the Augustan period. Nonetheless, the street layout can confidently be attributed to the town's initial establishment around 28 B.C. Since then, it has expanded far beyond the Roman walls. Almost all of modern Turin has been developed, piece by piece, in imitation and continuation of the original Roman layout.
FIG. 15.
TURIN
FROM A PLAN OF 1844.
FIG. 15.
TURIN
FROM A PLAN OF 1844.
Aosta (fig. 16).
Aosta (fig. 16).
Another example of an Italian town-plan, from the same date and district as Turin, is supplied by Augusta Praetoria, now Aosta, some fifty miles north of Turin in the Dora Baltea Valley, not far from the foot of Mont Blanc.[77] Aosta was founded by Augustus in 25 B.C. on a hitherto empty spot, to provide homes for time-expired soldiers and to serve as a quasi-fortress in an important Alpine valley. Its first inhabitants were 3,000 men discharged from the Praetorian Guard, with their wives and children; its population may have numbered at the outset some 15,000 free persons, besides slaves. The town, as it is known to us from excavation and observation, formed a rectangle 620 yds. long and 780 yds. wide, and covered an area of about 100 acres (fig. 16). The walls formed sharp right angles at the corners, as at Turin. Within the walls were an amphitheatre, a theatre, public baths, a structure covering nearly 2 acres and interpreted as a granary or (perhaps more correctly) as a cistern,[78] and private houses as yet unexplored. Beneath the chief streets were sewers, by which indeed these streets were mainly traced.
Another example of an Italian town plan from the same time period and region as Turin is provided by Augusta Praetoria, now known as Aosta, located about fifty miles north of Turin in the Dora Baltea Valley, not far from the base of Mont Blanc. Aosta was established by Augustus in 25 B.C. on a previously unoccupied site to provide housing for retired soldiers and to function as a semi-fortress in an important Alpine valley. Its first residents consisted of 3,000 men discharged from the Praetorian Guard, along with their wives and children; the population may have initially reached around 15,000 free individuals, in addition to slaves. The town, as we know it from excavations and observations, was laid out in a rectangle measuring 620 yards long and 780 yards wide, covering roughly 100 acres (fig. 16). The walls featured sharp right angles at the corners, similar to those in Turin. Inside the walls were an amphitheater, a theater, public baths, a building that covered nearly 2 acres interpreted as a granary or, more accurately, a cistern, and private houses that have yet to be explored. Beneath the main streets were sewers, which primarily defined the layout of these streets.
FIG. 16.
AOSTA
FIG. 16.
AOSTA
The whole was divided by a regular network of streets into rectangular blocks. According to the latest plan of the site, there were sixteen blocks, nearly identical in shape and averaging 145 x 180 yds. (5½ acres). That, however, is an incredible area for single house-blocks, and it is to be noted that Promis shows two further roads (A, A in fig. 16). If these are survivals of other such roads, Aosta may have contained thirty-two oblong 'insulae', each nearly 220 x 540 ft., or even sixty-four smaller and squarer 'insulae', measuring half that size.[79] Four gates gave entrance; those in the two longer sides which face north-west and south-east, are curiously far from the centre and indeed close to the south-western end of the town. It is, of course, impossible to determine, without spade-work, which of the recognizable buildings of Aosta date from the foundation of the place in 25 B.C. But the general internal scheme and the symmetrical and practically 'chess-board' pattern of streets must date from the first foundation.[80]
The area was divided by a grid of streets into rectangular blocks. According to the latest layout of the site, there were sixteen blocks, almost identical in size and averaging 145 x 180 yards (5½ acres). However, that’s an impressive size for single house-blocks, and it's worth noting that Promis indicates two additional roads (A, A in fig. 16). If those are remnants of other roads, Aosta might have had thirty-two elongated 'insulae', each nearly 220 x 540 feet, or even sixty-four smaller and squarer 'insulae', measuring half that size.[79] Four gates provided entry; those on the two longer sides facing north-west and south-east are surprisingly far from the center and quite close to the south-western end of the town. It’s impossible to determine, without excavation, which of the visible buildings in Aosta date back to the founding of the town in 25 B.C. But the overall internal layout and the symmetrical ‘chess-board’ pattern of streets must be from the original foundation.[80]
Florence (fig. 17).
Florence (fig. 17).
A yet more interesting instance of a Roman town-plan preserved in many streets may be found in Florence.[81] In Roman times Florence was a 'colonia'. When this 'colonia' was planted is very doubtful. Perhaps the age of Sulla (90-80 B.C.) is the likeliest date; all that is actually certain is that the foundation was made before the end of the first century A.D. This 'colonia', like others, was laid out in chess-board fashion, and vestiges of its streets survive in the Centro which forms the heart of the present town. The Centro of Florence, as we see it to-day, is very modern. It was, indeed, laid out a generation ago by Italian architects who designed the broad streets crossing at right angles which form its characteristic. But this 'Haussmannization' revived, consciously or unconsciously, an old arrangement. The plan of Florence in 1427 shows a group of twenty unmistakable 'insulae', each of them about 1-1/8 acre in area, that is, very similar in size to the 'insulae' of Turin. This group is bounded by the modern streets Tornabuoni on the west, Porta Rossa on the south, Calzaioli on the east, Teatina on the north; it covers a rectangle of some 305 x 327 yds., not quite 21 acres.
A more interesting example of a Roman town layout that is still seen in many streets can be found in Florence.[81] In Roman times, Florence was a 'colonia'. It's unclear exactly when this 'colonia' was established. The most likely time is during Sulla's era (90-80 B.C.), but what we know for sure is that it was founded before the end of the first century A.D. This 'colonia', like others, was designed in a grid pattern, and remnants of its streets still exist in the Centro, which is the heart of the modern city. The Centro of Florence as we see it today is very modern. It was laid out about a generation ago by Italian architects who designed the wide streets that intersect at right angles, which are its defining feature. However, this 'Haussmannization' consciously or unconsciously revived an old arrangement. The map of Florence from 1427 shows a group of twenty distinct 'insulae', each roughly 1-1/8 acres in size, quite similar to the 'insulae' in Turin. This area is bordered by the modern streets Tornabuoni to the west, Porta Rossa to the south, Calzaioli to the east, and Teatina to the north; it covers a rectangle of about 305 x 327 yards, just under 21 acres.
FIG. 17A.
FLORENCE, SINCE THE REBUILDING OF THE CENTRAL PORTION
(Centro shaded.)
FIG. 17A.
FLORENCE, AFTER THE REBUILDING OF THE CENTRAL AREA
(Centro shaded.)

FIG. 17B.
FLORENCE ABOUT 1795, FROM L. BARDI
The chief streets which seem to have preserved Roman lines are marked in black.
FIG. 17B.
FLORENCE AROUND 1795, BY L. BARDI
The main streets that still follow Roman layouts are highlighted in black.
The original Roman town presumably extended beyond these narrow limits. But it is not easy to fix its area, nor are unmistakable 'insulae' to be detected outside them. On the west the Via Tornabuoni seems to have marked the Roman limit, as it does to-day. On the north, a probable line is given by the gateway, Por Episcopi, which once spanned the passage—now an open space—on the east side of the Archbishop's Palace (plan 17 B). That gateway stood between the Via Teatina and the next street to the north, the Via dei Cerretani, and the Roman north wall and ditch apparently ran along the intervals between these two modern streets—as indeed the lines of certain mediaeval lanes suggest. On the east the 'colonia' is supposed to have stretched to the Via del Proconsolo and the old Por S. Piero, probably the original east gate. Here the traces of 'insulae' are ill preserved; the space in question would contain, and the mediaeval streets would admit of, twelve blocks in addition to the twenty noted above.
The original Roman town likely extended beyond these narrow boundaries. However, it's not easy to determine its exact area, nor can we clearly identify any 'insulae' outside of them. To the west, the Via Tornabuoni seems to define the Roman limit, just as it does today. To the north, a likely boundary is marked by the gateway, Por Episcopi, which once spanned the passage—now an open area—on the east side of the Archbishop's Palace (plan 17 B). That gateway was located between the Via Teatina and the next street to the north, the Via dei Cerretani, and it appears the Roman north wall and ditch ran along the gaps between these two modern streets, as indicated by the layout of certain medieval lanes. To the east, the 'colonia' is thought to have stretched to the Via del Proconsolo and the old Por S. Piero, probably the original eastern gate. Here, the remains of 'insulae' are poorly preserved; the area in question would hold, and the medieval streets would allow for, twelve blocks in addition to the twenty mentioned earlier.
The southern limit of Roman Florence towards the Arno is altogether doubtful. There are, or were, traces of Roman baths in the Via delle Terme, and it has been thought that the town stretched riverwards as far as the old gate Por S. Maria and the Piazza S. Trinità. The gate, however, is ill-placed and the line of wall implied by this theory is irregular. The mediaeval streets point rather to a south wall near the Via Porta Rossa. The baths might perhaps be due to a later Roman extension, such as we shall meet at Timgad (p. 113). The Por S. Maria may even be due to one of the reconstructions of Florence in the Middle Ages. At the end we must admit that without further evidence the limits of Roman Florence cannot be fixed for certain. But the limits indicated above give the not unsuitable dimensions of 46 acres (380 x 590 yds.), while the history of the twenty indubitable insulae of the Centro remains full of interest. We see here, as clearly as anywhere in the Roman world, how the regular Roman plan has gradually been distorted by encroachments and how, even in its irregularity, it has had power to drive modern builders towards its ancient fashion.
The southern boundary of Roman Florence towards the Arno is quite unclear. There are, or were, signs of Roman baths on Via delle Terme, and it's believed that the town extended towards the river as far as the old Por S. Maria gate and Piazza S. Trinità. However, the placement of the gate is questionable, and the wall line suggested by this idea is uneven. The medieval streets seem to indicate a southern wall closer to Via Porta Rossa. The baths could possibly result from a later Roman expansion, similar to what we’ll see in Timgad (p. 113). The Por S. Maria might even be a product of one of Florence's medieval reconstructions. Ultimately, we have to acknowledge that without more evidence, the boundaries of Roman Florence can't be determined for sure. Nonetheless, the boundaries mentioned above suggest a reasonable size of 46 acres (380 x 590 yds.), while the history of the twenty certain insulae in the Centro remains intriguing. Here, we can see, as clearly as in any part of the Roman world, how the traditional Roman layout has been gradually altered by encroachments and how, even in its irregularity, it has influenced modern builders to lean towards its ancient style.
Of the interior of the Roman town little is known. The streets now called Strozzi and Speziali plainly preserve the Roman main street from east to west, while the Via Calimara overlies that which ran from north to south. Where these crossed was the mediaeval Mercato Vecchio, now enlarged into a patriotic Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele; here we may put the Roman forum, and here too, by the former church of S. Maria in Campidoglio, was the temple of Capitoline Juppiter. There were also theatres, a shrine of Isis, and, outside the Roman limit, an amphitheatre still discernible in the curves of certain streets (plan 17 B). However small Florentia was, it possessed the true elements of the Roman town.
Of the interior of the Roman town, not much is known. The streets now called Strozzi and Speziali clearly follow the path of the Roman main street running east to west, while the Via Calimara overlays the route that went from north to south. Where these streets intersected was the medieval Mercato Vecchio, which has now been expanded into the more patriotic Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele; this is where we can place the Roman forum, and nearby, by the former church of S. Maria in Campidoglio, was the temple of Capitoline Juppiter. There were also theaters, a shrine of Isis, and, outside the Roman boundaries, an amphitheater that can still be seen in the curves of certain streets (plan 17 B). Although Florentia was quite small, it had all the essential features of a Roman town.
Lucca (fig. 18).
Lucca (fig. 18).
A good parallel to Florence may be found at Lucca, the ancient Luca, where again the streets preserve a rectangular pattern without showing clearly what was its full extent. Luca is said to have been founded as a 'colonia' in 177 B.C., but the statement is of doubtful truth. Certainly it was a 'municipium' in Cicero's days, and a little later, in the period 40-20 B.C., it received the rank of 'colonia' and many colonists, taken (as an inscription says) from discharged soldiers of Legions VII and XXVI. Whether the surviving traces of town-planning date from this latter event or from some earlier age is not easy to say. But of the street-plan there can be no doubt, though its original size is uncertain. A rectangular area about 700 yds. from east to west and 360 yds. from north to south is divided into fifteen square or squarish 'insulae' arranged in three rows. Each insula is about 3 acres, but those of the middle row are larger than the rest (150 x 150 yds.). The Via S. Croce which runs along the south side of this row was perhaps the main east and west thoroughfare of the town, the 'decumanus maximus', so that the larger 'insulae' correspond to those which appear in the same position at Turin and elsewhere (p. 88).
A good parallel to Florence can be found in Lucca, the ancient Luca, where the streets maintain a rectangular layout, though it’s not clear what their full extent was. Lucca is said to have been established as a 'colonia' in 177 B.C., but this claim is questionable. Definitely, it was a 'municipium' during Cicero’s time, and shortly after, between 40-20 B.C., it gained the status of 'colonia' and received many colonists, taken (as an inscription notes) from discharged soldiers of Legions VII and XXVI. It’s hard to determine whether the remaining signs of town-planning date from this more recent event or from an earlier time. However, there’s no doubt about the street layout, although its original size is unclear. A rectangular area about 700 yards from east to west and 360 yards from north to south is divided into fifteen square or nearly square 'insulae' arranged in three rows. Each insula is about 3 acres, but the ones in the middle row are larger than the rest (150 x 150 yards). The Via S. Croce running along the south side of this row was likely the main east-west road of the town, the 'decumanus maximus', so the larger 'insulae' correspond to those in the same position at Turin and elsewhere (p. 88).
FIG. 18.
LUCCA
(The streets which preserve Roman lines are marked in black.)
Not Available
FIG. 18.
LUCCA
(The streets that keep the Roman layout are shown in black.)
Not Available
Whether there were other 'insulae' besides the fifteen is doubtful. On the east there were certainly none: the two narrow parallel streets at the east end of the area just described are obviously due to a growth of houses along the line of the original east wall. The other limits are more obscure. Probably the north and west walls stood a little outside of the Via Galli Tassi (once S. Pellegrino) and the Via S. Giorgio, but there may well have been a row of insulae, now obliterated, south of the Via del Battistero. One or two interior buildings are known. The Forum appears to have stood where is now the Piazza S. Michele in Foro; close by was a temple; in the north-eastern quarter, at the Piazza del Carmine, was probably the theatre; near it but outside the walls was the amphitheatre, its outlines still visible in the Piazza del Mercato (110 x 80 yds. in greatest dimensions).[82]
Whether there were more 'insulae' beyond the fifteen is uncertain. To the east, there were definitely none; the two narrow parallel streets at the eastern end of the area just described clearly resulted from houses developing along the original eastern wall. The other boundaries are less clear. Likely, the northern and western walls were slightly outside the Via Galli Tassi (formerly S. Pellegrino) and the Via S. Giorgio, but there might have been a row of insulae, now erased, south of the Via del Battistero. A couple of interior buildings are known. The Forum seems to have been located where the Piazza S. Michele in Foro is today; nearby was a temple; in the northeastern area, at the Piazza del Carmine, there was likely a theatre; close to it, but outside the walls, was the amphitheatre, its outlines still visible in the Piazza del Mercato (110 x 80 yds. at its largest dimensions).[82]
Herculaneum (fig. 19).
Herculaneum (fig. 19).
To these examples from north Italy may be added two from the south, Herculaneum and Naples. Herculaneum had much the same early history as its more important neighbour Pompeii. First an Oscan settlement, then Etruscan, then Samnite, it passed later under Roman rule. After the Social Wars (89 B.C.) it appears as a 'municipium'; of its history from that date till its destruction (A.D. 79) we know next to nothing. But excavations, commenced in the eighteenth century and now long suspended, have thrown light on its ground-plan.[83] This was a rectangular pattern of oblong house-blocks, measuring 54 x 89 yds., or in some cases a little more, and divided by streets varying from 15 to 30 ft. in width which ran at right angles or parallel to one another. Only a part of the town has been as yet unearthed. In that a broad colonnaded main street ran from north-west to south-east; on the north-east side of this street stood a row of house-blocks with a structure taken to be a Basilica, and on the south-west of it were ten house-blocks, one of which includes some public baths. At the north end of this area are a theatre and temple, at the south end two large structures which have been called temples but are more like large private houses; on the east (according to the eighteenth-century searchers) are graves.
To these examples from northern Italy, we can add two from the south: Herculaneum and Naples. Herculaneum had a similar early history to its more famous neighbor Pompeii. It started as an Oscan settlement, then became Etruscan, and later Samnite, before eventually coming under Roman control. After the Social Wars (89 B.C.), it became a 'municipium'; however, we know very little about its history from that point until its destruction in A.D. 79. Excavations that began in the eighteenth century, which are now long suspended, have provided insight into its layout. This was a rectangular pattern of long blocks of houses, measuring 54 x 89 yards or sometimes a bit more, divided by streets that varied from 15 to 30 feet wide, running either at right angles or parallel to one another. Only part of the town has been uncovered so far. In that area, a wide colonnaded main street stretched from north-west to south-east. On the north-east side of this street was a row of house-blocks with a structure believed to be a basilica, and on the south-west side were ten house-blocks, one of which includes some public baths. At the north end of this section, there is a theatre and a temple, while at the south end, two large buildings have been referred to as temples but are more akin to large private homes; to the east (according to the eighteenth-century explorers), there are graves.
FIG. 19.
HERCULANEUM
FIG. 19.
HERCULANEUM
How much of the town has been uncovered, how much still lies hidden beneath the lava which overflowed it in A.D. 79, is disputed. Of its town-walls and gates no trace has yet been found. But nearly all its public buildings seem to be known; the graves on the east side, if correctly mapped by their discoverers and if coeval with the streets and houses, leave no room for further 'insulae' in that direction, while the great country-house called the 'Casa dei Papiri' plainly stood outside the town on the north-west. From these facts one modern writer has calculated that Herculaneum was less than a quarter of a mile long, less than 350 yds. broad, and less than 26 acres in extent—in short, not a sixth part of Pompeii. These measures are probably too small. The 'Basilica' on the north side of the main street cannot have stood on the extreme edge of the town. There must have been not three but four rows of house-blocks from south-west to north-east; the graves once noted in this quarter must be older than our Herculaneum or otherwise unconnected with it. The whole town must have been 40 or 45 rather than 25 acres in area. Even so it is a little town. The unenthusiastic references to it in ancient literature are, after all, truthful. Apart from the great villa outside it—possibly an imperial residence—it hardly deserved, or to-day deserves, to be excavated at the extraordinary cost which its excavation would involve.
How much of the town has been uncovered and how much still lies hidden beneath the lava that covered it in A.D. 79 is up for debate. No traces of its town walls or gates have been found yet. However, most of its public buildings appear to be identified; the graves on the east side, if accurately mapped by their discoverers and if they were around during the time of the streets and houses, leave no room for more 'insulae' in that area. Meanwhile, the large country house known as the 'Casa dei Papiri' clearly stood outside the town to the northwest. Based on these facts, one modern writer has estimated that Herculaneum was less than a quarter mile long, less than 350 yards wide, and less than 26 acres in size—in short, not even a sixth of Pompeii. These estimates are likely too small. The 'Basilica' on the north side of the main street couldn't have been right at the edge of the town. There likely were not three but four rows of houses from southwest to northeast; the graves observed in this area must be older than our Herculaneum or otherwise unrelated to it. The entire town probably covered 40 or 45 acres instead of 25. Even so, it's still a pretty small town. The lackluster mentions of it in ancient literature are, after all, accurate. Aside from the large villa outside—possibly an imperial residence—it hardly warranted, and still hardly warrants, the extraordinary cost that its excavation would entail.
The date of its planning is as doubtful as the extent of its area. One recent writer, Nissen, has suggested that it was reconstructed after an earthquake in A.D. 63 and was hardly completed before the eruption of 79. The earthquake is well attested. But it cannot possibly have wrecked the town so utterly as to cause wholesale rebuilding on new lines, and an inscription points rather to the time of Augustus. One Marcus Nonius Balbus (the text runs) built 'a basilica, gates and a wall at his own cost', and this builder Balbus was probably a contemporary of Augustus.[84] Others have preferred to think that the town-planning reveals Greek influences; they point to the Greek city of Naples, 7 miles west of Herculaneum, and the Doric temple at Pompeii, much the same distance east of it. However, neither the town-planning of Naples, to be discussed in the next paragraphs, nor that of Pompeii (p. 68), seems to be necessarily Greek, and Herculaneum itself contains nothing which cannot be explained as Italian. It is possible, though there is no record of the fact, that it received a settlement of discharged soldiers somewhere about 30 B.C. and was then laid out afresh. But here, as throughout this inquiry, more light is needed if the inquirer is to pass from guesswork to proven fact.
The timing of its planning is as uncertain as its size. A recent author, Nissen, suggested that it was rebuilt after an earthquake in A.D. 63 and was barely finished before the eruption in 79. The earthquake is well-documented. However, it’s unlikely that it completely destroyed the town to the extent that it needed total redevelopment, and an inscription seems to indicate a connection to the time of Augustus. According to the inscription, one Marcus Nonius Balbus "built a basilica, gates, and a wall at his own expense," and Balbus was likely a contemporary of Augustus. Others believe that the town planning shows Greek influences and point to the Greek city of Naples, 7 miles west of Herculaneum, and the Doric temple at Pompeii, roughly the same distance east. However, neither Naples’ town planning, which will be discussed in the following paragraphs, nor that of Pompeii (p. 68), appears to be exclusively Greek, and Herculaneum itself does not contain anything that couldn't be explained as Italian. It’s possible, though there’s no record to confirm it, that it received a settlement of discharged soldiers around 30 B.C. and was then restructured. But, as with the rest of this exploration, more evidence is needed for the researcher to move from speculation to established fact.
Naples (fig. 20).
Naples (fig. 20).
One more example, from the neighbourhood of Herculaneum, may complete the list of Italian street-plans. Naples, the Greek and Roman Neapolis, was a Greek city, the most prosperous of the Greek towns in Campania.[85] After 90 B.C. it appears to have become a Roman 'municipium'. But it retained much of its Greek civilization. A writer of the early first century after Christ, Strabo, states that abundant traces of Greek life survived there, 'gymnasia, and athletic schools, and tribal divisions, and Greek names even for Roman things.' Even later Tacitus calls it a 'Greek city', and Greek was still used for official inscriptions there in the third century.
One more example from the Herculaneum area can complete the list of Italian street plans. Naples, known as Neapolis in Greek and Roman times, was a Greek city and the most prosperous of the Greek towns in Campania. After 90 B.C., it seems to have become a Roman 'municipium.' However, it kept a lot of its Greek culture. A writer from the early first century A.D., Strabo, mentions that there were many signs of Greek life still present, like 'gymnasiums, athletic schools, tribal divisions, and Greek names even for Roman things.' Later, Tacitus also refers to it as a 'Greek city,' and Greek was still used for official inscriptions there in the third century.
FIG. 20.
NAPLES. ADAPTED FROM A PLAN OF 1865
(TH = Theatre, T = Temple.)
FIG. 20.
NAPLES. ADAPTED FROM A PLAN OF 1865
(TH = Theatre, T = Temple.)
This Neapolis town had, as certain existing streets declare, a peculiar form of town-planning. The area covered by these streets is an irregular space of 250 acres in the heart of the modern city, about 850 yds. from north to south and 1,000 yds. from east to west.[86] In Roman days three straight streets ran parallel from east to west and a large number of smaller streets, twenty or so, ran at right angles to them from north to south. The house-blocks enclosed by these streets were all of similar size and shape, a thin oblong of 35 x 180 metres (39 x 198 yds.). Some of the public buildings naturally trespassed on to more than one 'insula'; a theatre appears indeed to have stretched over parts of three. In general, the oblongs seem to have been laid out with great regularity and the angles are right angles, though the 'insulae' in the northern and southern rows of house-blocks cannot have been fully rectangular and symmetrical.
This Neapolis town, as some existing streets show, had a unique layout. The area covered by these streets is an irregular space of 250 acres in the center of the modern city, about 850 yards from north to south and 1,000 yards from east to west.[86] In Roman times, three straight streets ran parallel from east to west, with about twenty smaller streets running at right angles from north to south. The blocks created by these streets were all similar in size and shape, measuring 35 by 180 meters (39 by 198 yards). Some public buildings naturally extended over more than one 'insula'; a theater seems to have stretched across parts of three. Overall, the oblongs were laid out with considerable regularity, and the angles were right angles, though the 'insulae' in the northern and southern rows of house blocks could not have been fully rectangular and symmetrical.
This town-plan of Naples differs from any of those noted above. Its blocks are narrower than those in any Italian town, unless in Modena, and while they resemble the 'insulae' of the sixth region of Pompeii (fig. 13), are far more regular than those. Almost the only close parallel is that of Roman Carthage (fig. 24). As Naples was by origin and character a Greek city, these narrow oblongs have been supposed to represent a Greek arrangement. They do not, however, correspond to anything that is known in the Greek lands, either of the Macedonian or of any earlier period. The conclusion is difficult to avoid that this Greek city of Naples adopted an Italian street-scheme, but laid it out with more scientific regularity than the early Italians themselves. When this occurred and why, is wholly unknown. That the result is not an unpractical form of building is shown by the fact that similar long and narrow house-blocks are a characteristic feature of modern Liverpool, though they seldom occur in other English towns, unless intermixed with square and other blocks.
This city layout of Naples is different from any mentioned earlier. Its blocks are narrower than those in any Italian city, except for Modena, and while they resemble the 'insulae' of the sixth region of Pompeii (fig. 13), they are much more orderly. The only close comparison is with Roman Carthage (fig. 24). Since Naples was originally a Greek city, these narrow rectangles are thought to reflect a Greek design. However, they don't match anything known in Greek territory, whether from the Macedonian period or earlier. It's hard to avoid the conclusion that this Greek city of Naples adopted an Italian street layout but arranged it with more scientific regularity than the early Italians themselves. When and why this happened is completely unknown. The fact that this design is not impractical is demonstrated by the similarity to the long, narrow housing blocks characteristic of modern Liverpool, although they rarely appear in other English cities unless mixed with square and other shapes.
CHAPTER VIII
ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWN-PLANS. I
CHAPTER VIII
ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWN PLANS. I
The provinces, and above all the western provinces of the Roman Empire, tell us even more than Italy about Roman town-planning. But they tell it in another way. They contain many towns which were founded full-grown, or re-founded and at the same time rebuilt, and which were in either case laid out on the Roman plan. But the modern successors of these towns have rarely kept the network of their ancient streets in recognizable detail. Though walls, gates, temples, baths, palaces, amphitheatres still stand stubbornly erect amidst a flood of modern dwellings, they are but the islands which mark a submerged area. The paths and passages by which men once moved across that area have vanished beneath the waves and cannot be recovered from any survey of these visible fragments. There is hardly one modern town in all the European and African provinces of the Roman Empire which still uses any considerable part of its ancient street-plan. In our own country there is no single case. In Gaul and Germany, two or three streets in Cologne and one or two in Trier are the sole survivals.[87] In Illyricum there is no example unless possibly at Belgrade. In the Spanish peninsula the town of Braga in northern Portugal seems to stand alone. In Roman Africa—Tunis, Algiers and Morocco—no instance has survived the Arab conquest.[88]
The provinces, especially the western provinces of the Roman Empire, reveal even more about Roman town-planning than Italy does. But they do it in a different way. They include many towns that were built already developed, or rebuilt entirely, and in both cases, they were designed according to the Roman plan. However, the modern successors of these towns rarely preserve the layout of their ancient streets in recognizable detail. Even though walls, gates, temples, baths, palaces, and amphitheaters still stand tall amidst a sea of modern buildings, they are just the remnants marking a submerged area. The pathways that people once used to navigate that area have disappeared beneath the surface and cannot be retrieved from any examination of these visible remains. There is hardly a single modern town in all the European and African provinces of the Roman Empire that still utilizes a significant part of its ancient street layout. In our own country, there is no example at all. In Gaul and Germany, only a couple of streets in Cologne and one or two in Trier remain as the only survivors. In Illyricum, there is no example unless possibly in Belgrade. In the Spanish peninsula, the town of Braga in northern Portugal seems to be the only one left. In Roman Africa—Tunis, Algiers, and Morocco—no instances have survived the Arab conquest.
If, however, survivals of ancient streets are as rare in the provinces as they are common in Italy, the provinces yield other evidence unknown to Italy. In these lands, and above all in Africa, the sites of many Roman towns have lain desolate and untouched since Roman days, waiting for the excavator to recover the unspoilt pattern of their streets. If the Roman Empire brought to certain provinces, as it unquestionably did to Africa, the happiest period in their history till almost the present day, that only makes their remains the more noteworthy and instructive. Here the new art of excavation has already achieved many and varied successes. In the western Empire one town, Silchester in Britain, has been wholly uncovered within the circuit of its walls. Others, like Caerwent in Britain or Timgad and Carthage in Africa, have been methodically examined, though the inquiries have not yet touched or perhaps can never touch their whole areas. In others again, some of which lie in the east, occasional search or even chance discoveries have shed welcome light. Our knowledge is more than enough already for the purposes of this chapter.
If, however, remnants of ancient streets are as rare in the provinces as they are common in Italy, the provinces offer other evidence not found in Italy. In these regions, especially in Africa, the locations of many Roman towns have remained abandoned and untouched since Roman times, waiting for archaeologists to uncover the original layout of their streets. If the Roman Empire brought the best period in history to certain provinces, as it undoubtedly did to Africa, that makes their ruins even more significant and informative. The new field of archaeology has already achieved many different successes here. In the western Empire, one town, Silchester in Britain, has been completely uncovered within its walls. Others, like Caerwent in Britain or Timgad and Carthage in Africa, have been systematically studied, although the investigations haven't yet fully explored all their areas, and perhaps they never will. In some places, including a few in the east, occasional digs or even random discoveries have provided valuable insights. Our knowledge is already sufficient for the purposes of this chapter.
We can already see that the town-plan described in the foregoing pages was widely used in the provinces of the Empire. We find it in Africa, in Central and Western Europe, and indeed wherever Rorrran remains have been carefully excavated; we find it even in remote Britain amidst conditions which make its use seem premature. Where excavation has as yet yielded no proofs, other evidence fills the gap. In southern Gaul, as it happens, archaeological remains are unhelpful. But just there an inscription has come to light, the only one of its kind in the Roman world, which proves that one at least of the 'coloniae' of Gallia Narbonensis was laid out in rectangular oblong plots. It is clear enough that this town-plan was one of the forms through which the Italian civilization diffused itself over the western provinces.
We can already see that the town plan described in the previous pages was widely used in the provinces of the Empire. It's found in Africa, Central and Western Europe, and indeed wherever Rorrran remains have been carefully excavated; it's even found in remote Britain, despite conditions that make its use seem premature. Where excavation has yet to provide any evidence, other clues fill the gap. In southern Gaul, archaeological remains aren’t particularly helpful. However, an inscription has surfaced there, the only one of its kind in the Roman world, which proves that at least one of the 'coloniae' of Gallia Narbonensis was laid out in rectangular plots. It’s clear that this town plan was one of the ways Italian civilization spread throughout the western provinces.
The exact measure of its popularity is, however, hard to determine. In the east it found little entrance. There, the very similar Macedonian and Greek methods of town-planning were rooted firmly, long before Rome conquered Greece or Asia Minor or Syria or Egypt. The few town-plans which have been noted in these lands, and which may be assigned more or less conjecturally to the Roman era, seem to be Hellenic or Hellenistic rather than Italian. They show broad stately streets, colonnades, vistas, which belong to the east and not to Italy. Even in the west, the rule of the chess-board was sometimes broken. Aquincum, near Budapest, became a 'municipium' under Hadrian; its ruins, so far as hitherto planned, exhibit no true street-planning. But that may be due to its history, for it seems not to have been founded full-grown, but to have slowly developed as best it could, and to have won municipal status at the end.
The exact measure of its popularity is hard to figure out. In the east, it gained little traction. There, the similar Macedonian and Greek town-planning methods were firmly established long before Rome conquered Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, or Egypt. The few town plans noted in these regions, which can be somewhat guessed to belong to the Roman era, appear to be more Hellenic or Hellenistic than Italian. They feature wide, impressive streets, colonnades, and vistas that are characteristic of the east, not Italy. Even in the west, the grid layout was sometimes disregarded. Aquincum, near Budapest, became a 'municipium' under Hadrian; its ruins, as they have been planned so far, show no real street layout. But that may be due to its history, as it seems not to have been founded fully developed, but to have gradually grown as best it could, ultimately gaining municipal status later on.
Roman Africa is here, as so often, our best source of knowledge. At Timgad (p. 109), a town laid out in Roman fashion with a rigid 'chess-board' of streets was subsequently enlarged on irregular and almost chaotic lines. At Gigthi, in the south-east of Tunis, the streets around the Forum, itself rectangular enough, do not run parallel or at right angles to it or to one another.[89] At Thibilis, on the border of Tunis and Algeria, the streets, so far as they have yet been uncovered, diverge widely from the chess-board pattern.[90] One French archaeologist has even declared that most of the towns in Roman Africa lacked this pattern.[91] Our evidence is perhaps still too slight to prove or disprove that conclusion. Few African towns have been sufficiently uncovered to show the street-plan.[92] But town-life was well developed in Roman Africa. It is hardly credible that the Africans learnt all the rest of Roman city civilization and city government, and left out the planning. The individual cases of such planning which will be quoted in the following pages tell their own tale—that, while the strict rule was often broken, it was the rule.
Roman Africa is often our best source of knowledge. At Timgad (p. 109), a town designed in a Roman style with a strict 'chess-board' layout of streets was later expanded in irregular and chaotic ways. At Gigthi, in the southeast of Tunis, the streets around the Forum, which is fairly rectangular, do not run parallel or at right angles to it or to each other. [89] At Thibilis, on the border of Tunis and Algeria, the streets that have been uncovered so far stray significantly from the chess-board pattern. [90] One French archaeologist has even stated that most towns in Roman Africa lacked this layout. [91] Our evidence might still be too limited to confirm or refute that statement. Few African towns have been explored enough to reveal their street plans. [92] However, urban life was well established in Roman Africa. It’s hard to believe that the Africans picked up all the other aspects of Roman urban culture and governance but ignored city planning. The individual cases of such planning that will be discussed in the following pages illustrate that, while the strict rules were often disregarded, they were indeed the standard.
Orange (fig. 21).
Orange (fig. 21).
The case which deserves the first place stands by itself. It is the one piece of written evidence (as distinct from structural remains) which has survived from Roman town-planning. Curiously enough, it was found not in Italy but in a province, and a province which, for all its wealth of Roman buildings, has not yet revealed the smallest structural proof of Roman town-planning. In April 1904 a scrap of inscribed marble, little more than 18 in. broad and high, was dug up at Orange, in southern France, right in the centre of the town. It is a waif from a lengthy document. But it chances to be intelligible. It enumerates six plots of land—'merides' it calls them, from a Greek word meaning 'share' or 'division'—which seem to have formed one parcel: each plot is numbered, and the length of its frontage on the public way (in fronte), the name of its lessee or manceps and that of his surety (fideiussor) are added. The frontages of four plots make up 200 ft. (those of the other two are lost), and it has been suggested that the six together made up 240 ft. The depth—which is not stated on the surviving fragment, but was doubtless uniform for all the plots—may then have been 120 ft., and the whole parcel may have covered 120 x 240 ft., that is, a Roman 'iugerum'. It was plainly a piece of town property. The largest 'meris', Plot v, measured only 25 by 40 yds. and no one would care for such a field or farm. Besides, this plot at one end adjoined a 'ludus' or gladiatorial school, and it fronted AD K, ad kardinem, on to the street called in surveying language the 'cardo'. The whole land apparently belonged to one lessee who held it from the municipality on something like a perpetual lease.[93]
The case that takes the top spot stands alone. It is the only piece of written evidence (as opposed to structural remains) that has survived from Roman town planning. Interestingly, it was discovered not in Italy, but in a province that, despite its wealth of Roman buildings, has yet to show even the slightest structural evidence of Roman town planning. In April 1904, a small piece of inscribed marble, measuring just over 18 inches wide and tall, was excavated in Orange, southern France, right in the heart of the town. It is a fragment of a longer document. However, it happens to be understandable. It lists six plots of land—referred to as 'merides', stemming from a Greek word meaning 'share' or 'division'—which seem to have formed one parcel: each plot is numbered, and the length of its frontage on the public way (in fronte), along with the name of its lessee or manceps and that of his guarantor (fideiussor), are noted. The frontages of four plots total 200 feet (the frontages of the other two are missing), and it has been suggested that the six together measured 240 feet. The depth—which isn’t mentioned on the surviving fragment but would likely have been the same for all the plots—might have been 120 feet, making the entire parcel approximately 120 x 240 feet, that is, a Roman 'iugerum'. It was clearly a piece of town property. The largest 'meris', Plot v, measured only 25 by 40 yards, and no one would be interested in such a field or farm. Additionally, this plot was adjacent to a 'ludus' or gladiatorial school, and it faced AD K, ad kardinem, onto the street known in surveying terms as the 'cardo'. The whole land presumably belonged to a single lessee who held it from the municipality on what could be described as a perpetual lease.[93]
FIG. 21.
INSCRIPTION OF ORANGE
(From the Comptes-rendus de l'Académie des Inscriptions.)
FIG. 21.
INSCRIPTION OF ORANGE
(From the Comptes-rendus de l'Académie des Inscriptions.)
Plot (meris) I (lost) ...
Plot (meris) I (lost) ...
Plot II ... perpetual lessee (manceps) C. Naevius Rusticus: surety for him C. Vesidius Quadratus. Fronting the Kardo.
Plot II ... perpetual lessee (manceps) C. Naevius Rusticus: guarantor for him C. Vesidius Quadratus. Facing the Kardo.
5
5
Plot III, frontage of 34½ feet and Plot IV, frontage of 35 feet; ground rent (?), 69½ denarii (in margin). Yearly rent II ... (?). Lessee and surety, as above. Fronting the Kardo.
Plot III, with a frontage of 34½ feet, and Plot IV, with a frontage of 35 feet; ground rent (?), 69½ denarii (in margin). Yearly rent II ... (?). Lessee and guarantor, as stated above. Facing the Kardo.
10
10
Plot V, frontage 55½ feet, and Plot VI, next to the Ludus (gladiators' school), frontage 75 feet ...
Plot V, with a frontage of 55½ feet, and Plot VI, adjacent to the gladiators' school, with a frontage of 75 feet ...
Here, in short, is the record of an oblong 'insula' in the Roman town of Orange. It is doubtless part of a longer record, a register of house-property in the whole town. Orange, Colonia Iulia Secundanorum Arausio, was a 'colonia' founded about 45 B.C. with discharged soldiers of Caesar's Second Legion. Possibly the register was drawn up at this date; more probably it is rather later and may be connected with a census of Gaul begun about 27 B.C. Certainly it was preserved with much care, as if one of the 'muniments' of the citizens. The spot where it was dug up is in the heart of the ancient as well as of the modern town, close to the probable site of the Forum, and the inscription may have been fastened up in all its length on the walls of some public building. If, as is likely, the town owned the soil of the town, the connexion of the inscription with the Forum becomes even clearer. In any case, the town was plainly laid out in a rectangular street-plan. To-day its lanes are as tortuous as those of any other Provencal town.[94] A strange chance reveals what it and many other of these towns must once have been.
Here’s a brief overview of a rectangular area in the Roman town of Orange. It likely belongs to a larger record, a register of properties in the entire town. Orange, known as Colonia Iulia Secundanorum Arausio, was established around 45 B.C. with retired soldiers from Caesar's Second Legion. The register may have been created at this time; however, it’s more likely that it was established later and could be linked to a census of Gaul that started around 27 B.C. It was definitely kept with great care, almost like an official document of the citizens. The location where it was found is in the center of both the ancient and modern town, near the probable site of the Forum, and the inscription may have been displayed prominently on the walls of a public building. If, as seems likely, the town owned the land, the connection between the inscription and the Forum becomes even more obvious. In any case, the town was clearly designed with a rectangular street layout. Nowadays, its streets are just as winding as those of any other Provençal town. A strange coincidence reveals what this and many other towns must have been like in the past.
Timgad (figs. 22, 23).
Timgad (figs. 22, 23).
From this piece of half-literary evidence we pass to purely archaeological remains, and first to the province of Numidia in Roman Africa and to the town of Timgad. The town of Thamugadi, now Timgad, lay on the northern skirts of Mount Aurès, halfway between Constantine and Biskra and about a hundred miles from the Mediterranean coast. Here the emperor Trajan founded in A.D. 100 a 'colonia' on ground then wholly uninhabited, and peopled it with time-expired soldiers from the Third Legion which garrisoned the neighbouring fortress of Lambaesis. The town grew. Soon after the middle of the second century it was more than half a mile in width from east to west, and its extent from north to south, though not definitely known, cannot have been much less. The first settlement was smaller. So far as it has been uncovered by French archaeologists—sufficiently for our purpose, though not completely—the 'colonia' of Trajan appears to have been some 29 or 30 acres in extent within the walls and almost square in outline (360 x 390 yds.). It was entered by four principal gates, three of which can still be traced quite clearly, and which stood in the middle of their respective sides; the position of the south gate is doubtful. According to Dr. Barthel, the street which joins the east and west gates was laid out to point to the sunrise of September 18, the birthday of Trajan.
From this piece of semi-literary evidence, we move on to purely archaeological remains, starting with the province of Numidia in Roman Africa and the town of Timgad. The town of Thamugadi, now known as Timgad, was located on the northern slopes of Mount Aurès, halfway between Constantine and Biskra and about a hundred miles from the Mediterranean coast. Here, Emperor Trajan established a 'colonia' in A.D. 100 on land that was completely uninhabited at the time, populating it with retired soldiers from the Third Legion stationed at the nearby fortress of Lambaesis. The town expanded rapidly. By the middle of the second century, it was over half a mile wide from east to west, and while its length from north to south is not precisely known, it could not have been much less. The initial settlement was smaller. As far as French archaeologists have excavated—enough for our purposes, though not entirely—Trajan's 'colonia' appears to have covered about 29 or 30 acres within the walls and was almost square in shape (360 x 390 yards). It had four main gates, three of which are still clearly traceable and were located in the middle of their respective sides; the location of the south gate remains uncertain. According to Dr. Barthel, the street connecting the east and west gates was designed to face the sunrise on September 18, Trajan's birthday.
FIG. 22.
AFTER CAGNAT AND BALLU (1911)
(The six 'insulae' marked A are shown in detail in fig. 23. Unshaded 'insulae' are as yet unexcavated.)
FIG. 22.
AFTER CAGNAT AND BALLU (1911)
(The six 'insulae' marked A are shown in detail in fig. 23. Unshaded 'insulae' are as yet unexcavated.)
FIG. 23.
SIX 'INSULAE' IN S.W. TIMGAD
(After Prof. Cagnat).
Nos. 91, 92, 99, one house each; 108, 109, 3 houses; 100, Baths.
FIG. 23.
SIX 'INSULAE' IN S.W. TIMGAD
(After Prof. Cagnat).
Nos. 91, 92, 99, one house each; 108, 109, 3 houses; 100, Baths.
The interior of the town was divided by streets into a chess-board pattern of small square house-blocks; from north to south there were twelve such blocks and from east to west eleven—not twelve, as is often stated. The possible total of 132 'insulae' was, however, diminished by the space needed for public buildings, though it is not easy to tell how great this space was in the original town. Ultimately, as the excavations show, eight 'insulae' were taken up by the Forum, four by the Theatre, three by the various Baths, one by a Market, one by a Public Library, and one by a Christian church. But some of these edifices were certainly not established till long after A.D. 100 and the others, which must have existed from the first, were soon extended and enlarged. A competent writer on the subject, Dr. Barthel, allows seven blocks for public purposes in the original town, but this seems too little. The blocks themselves measured on the average a square of 70 Roman feet (23 x 23 yards), and may have contained one, two, three, or even four houses apiece, but they have undergone so many changes that their original arrangements are not at all clear. The streets which divided these blocks were 15 to 16 ft. wide; the two main streets, which ran to the principal gates, were further widened by colonnades and paved with superior flagging. All the streets had well-built sewers beneath them.
The interior of the town was laid out in a grid pattern with small square house blocks divided by streets; there were twelve blocks running north to south and eleven running east to west—not twelve, as is often claimed. The potential total of 132 'insulae' was reduced by space needed for public buildings, although it’s hard to say how much space that was in the original town. Ultimately, as the excavations indicate, eight 'insulae' were occupied by the Forum, four by the Theatre, three by various Baths, one by a Market, one by a Public Library, and one by a Christian church. Some of these structures were definitely not established until long after A.D. 100, while others, which must have been there from the start, were soon expanded and enlarged. A knowledgeable writer on the topic, Dr. Barthel, estimates seven blocks for public use in the original town, but that seems too few. The blocks themselves typically measured a square of 70 Roman feet (23 x 23 yards) and may have contained one, two, three, or even four houses each, but they have changed so much that their original layouts are not at all clear. The streets dividing these blocks were 15 to 16 feet wide; the two main streets leading to the main gates were further widened by colonnades and paved with high-quality flagstones. All the streets had well-constructed sewers underneath them.
Trajan's Timgad was plainly small. On any estimate of the number of houses, the original draft of veterans sent there in A.D. 100 can hardly have exceeded 400, and the first population, apart from slaves, must have been under 2,000. This agrees with the figures of Aosta (p. 89). There, 100 acres took 3,000 veterans and their families; here the area is about one-third of 100 acres and the ground available for dwellings may perhaps have been one-sixth. In neither case was space wasted. There was not probably at Aosta, there certainly was not at Timgad, any provision of open squares, of handsome facades, of temples seen down the vista of stately avenues; there were not even private gardens. The one large unroofed space in Timgad was the half-acre shut within the Forum cloister. This economy of room is no doubt due to the fact that the 'colonia' was not only a home for time-expired soldiers, but, as Prof. Cagnat has justly observed, a quasi-fortress watching the slopes of Mount Aurès south of it, just as Aosta watched its Alpine valley. As Machiavelli thought it worth while to observe, the shorter the line of a town's defence, the fewer the men who can hold it. The town-planning of Timgad was designed on other than purely architectural or municipal principles. For this reason, too, we should probably seek in vain any marked distinction between richer and poorer quarters and larger or smaller houses.[95] The centurions and other officers may have formed the first municipal aristocracy of Timgad, as retired officers did in many Roman towns, but there can have been no definite element of poor among the common soldiers.
Trajan's Timgad was pretty small. Any estimate of the number of houses suggests that the original group of veterans sent there in A.D. 100 hardly exceeded 400, and the initial population, excluding slaves, must have been under 2,000. This aligns with the figures from Aosta (p. 89). There, 100 acres accommodated 3,000 veterans and their families; here, the area is about one-third of that, and the space available for homes might have been about one-sixth. In neither case was space wasted. There probably weren't any open squares at Aosta, and certainly, there weren't any at Timgad—no elegant facades, no temples seen down impressive avenues; there weren't even private gardens. The only large open area in Timgad was the half-acre enclosed within the Forum cloister. This efficient use of space is likely because the 'colonia' was not just a home for retired soldiers but, as Prof. Cagnat rightly pointed out, a kind of fortress keeping watch over the slopes of Mount Aurès to the south, just as Aosta overlooked its Alpine valley. As Machiavelli noted, the shorter the defense line of a town, the fewer men are needed to hold it. The town planning of Timgad was based on principles beyond just architectural or municipal ones. For this reason, we probably wouldn't find a noticeable distinction between richer and poorer areas or larger and smaller homes. The centurions and other officers might have made up the first local elite of Timgad, similar to retired officers in many Roman towns, but there likely wasn't any clear division of poor among the common soldiers.
Such was Trajan's Timgad, as revealed by excavations now about two-thirds complete. The town soon burst its narrow bounds. A Capitol, Baths, a large Meat-market, and much else sprang up outside the walls. Soon the walls themselves, like those of many mediaeval towns—for example, the north and west town-walls of Oxford—were built over and hidden by later structures. The town grew from one of 360 to a breadth of over 800 yds. And as it expanded, it broke loose from the chess-board pattern. The builders of later Timgad did not resemble those of later Turin. Even the decumanus, the main 'east and west' street, wandered away north-west in an uncertain curve, and all that has been discovered of streets outside the walls of Trajan is irregular and complicated. A town-plan, it seems, was binding on the first builders of the 'colonia'. It lost its power within a very few years.[96]
Such was Trajan's Timgad, as shown by excavations that are now about two-thirds complete. The town quickly expanded beyond its narrow boundaries. A Capitol, Baths, a large meat market, and much more appeared outside the walls. Soon the walls themselves, like those of many medieval towns—such as the north and west town walls of Oxford—were built over and concealed by later structures. The town grew from one measuring 360 yards to over 800 yards wide. As it expanded, it deviated from the grid pattern. The builders of later Timgad were different from those in later Turin. Even the decumanus, the main 'east and west' street, veered off northwest in an unpredictable curve, and what has been discovered of streets beyond Trajan's walls is irregular and complex. It seems a town plan was initially followed by the first builders of the 'colonia'. However, it lost its influence within just a few years.[96]
Carthage (fig. 24).
Carthage (fig. 24).
It remains to note another example of town-planning in a Roman municipality of the western Empire, which is as important as it is abnormal. Carthage, first founded—though only in an abortive fashion—as a Roman 'colonia' in 123 B.C. and re-established with the same rank by Julius Caesar or Augustus, shows a rectangular town-plan in a city which speedily became one among the three or four largest and wealthiest cities in the Empire. The regularity of its planning was noted in ancient times by a topographical writer.[97] But the plan, though rectangular, is not normal. According to the French archaeologists who have worked it out, it comprised a large number of streets—perhaps as many as forty—running parallel to the coast, a smaller number running at right angles to these down the hillside towards the shore, and many oblong 'insulae', measuring each about 130 x 500 ft., roughly two Roman iugera. The whole town stretched for some two miles parallel to the shore and for about a mile inland, and covered perhaps 1,200 acres. Its street-plan can hardly be older than Caesar or Augustus, but the shape of its 'insulae' appears to be without parallel in that age. It comes closest to the oblong blocks of Pompeii and of Naples (pp. 63, 100), and its two theatres also recall those towns. One reason for its plan may no doubt be found in the physical character of the site. The ground slopes down from hills towards the shore, and encourages the use of streets which run level along the slopes, parallel to the shore, and not more or less steeply towards it.[98]
It’s worth mentioning another example of urban planning in a Roman city of the western Empire, which is both significant and unusual. Carthage, initially established—though not successfully—as a Roman 'colonia' in 123 B.C. and later reinstated with the same status by Julius Caesar or Augustus, features a rectangular city layout in a city that quickly became one of the three or four largest and wealthiest in the Empire. Ancient writers noted the regularity of its layout. But while the layout is rectangular, it isn’t typical. According to French archaeologists who have studied it, the plan included a large number of streets—possibly up to forty—running parallel to the coast, with fewer streets running perpendicular down the hillside towards the shore, and many long rectangular 'insulae', each measuring about 130 x 500 ft., roughly two Roman iugera. The entire city extended for about two miles parallel to the shore and about a mile inland, covering around 1,200 acres. Its street layout can hardly be older than Caesar or Augustus, but the shape of its 'insulae' seems unique for that era. It is most similar to the long blocks of Pompeii and Naples, and its two theaters also remind one of those cities. One possible reason for its design could be linked to the site’s physical characteristics. The land slopes down from the hills towards the shore, which encourages streets that run level along the slopes, parallel to the shore, rather than steeply toward it.
FIG. 24.
A PART OF CARTHAGE
Plan based on the Carte archéologique des ruines de Carthage, by Gauckler and Delattre.
FIG. 24.
A PART OF CARTHAGE
Plan based on the Carte archéologique des ruines de Carthage, by Gauckler and Delattre.
Laibach (fig. 25),
Numantia, Lincoln (fig. 26).
Laibach (fig. 25),
Numantia, Lincoln (fig. 26).
Three or four more ordinary examples chosen at random from provincial municipalities may show the diffusion of town-planning in the western Roman world. One example, from the borders of Italy, may be found just outside the pleasant town of Laibach in southern Austria. Here Augustus in 34 B.C. planted a 'Colonia Iulia Augusta Emona', and recent work of Dr. W. Schmid has thrown much light on its character. The colony was in outline a rectangle of nearly 55 acres (480 x 560 yds.), and was divided up into forty-eight blocks by five streets which ran north and south and seven which crossed them at right angles; of these forty-eight blocks some must, of course, have been taken up by public buildings. They varied in size: the largest as yet planned (II in fig. 25) measured 170 x 195 ft., or ¾ acre; two others measured 163 x 170 ft.; while one block, which contained one large house not unlike the Silchester 'inn', was 112 x 168 ft. (Plan, II), and the block next it was a trifle smaller. None of the dimensions show any trace of the normal 120 or 240 ft. (p. 79). The streets were very broad (37-40 ft.); one, which may be the 'cardo maximus', measured as much as 47 ft. across. Beneath the main streets were sewers, in the usual fashion. Round the whole town stood strong walls, reinforced at regular intervals by square projecting towers; the four corners were not rounded but rectangular, after the fashion of Aosta and Turin (pp. 87, 90).[99]
Three or four more typical examples randomly selected from smaller towns can illustrate the spread of town planning in the western Roman world. One example, located near the borders of Italy, can be found just outside the charming town of Laibach in southern Austria. Here, Augustus established a 'Colonia Iulia Augusta Emona' in 34 B.C., and recent research by Dr. W. Schmid has shed significant light on its characteristics. The colony was roughly laid out in a rectangle covering nearly 55 acres (480 x 560 yards) and was divided into forty-eight blocks by five streets running north-south and seven that crossed them at right angles; naturally, some of these blocks must have been designated for public buildings. They varied in size: the largest one planned (II in fig. 25) measured 170 x 195 feet, or ¾ acre; two others were 163 x 170 feet; while one block, which included a large house similar to the Silchester 'inn', measured 112 x 168 feet (Plan, II), and the adjacent block was slightly smaller. None of the measurements reflected the conventional 120 or 240 feet (p. 79). The streets were quite wide (37-40 feet); one, possibly the 'cardo maximus', measured as much as 47 feet across. Beneath the main streets, there were sewers, following the typical design. Strong walls surrounded the entire town, reinforced at regular intervals with square projecting towers; the four corners were not rounded but rectangular, resembling the style of Aosta and Turin (pp. 87, 90).[99]
FIG. 25.
A PART OF LAIBACH
(From W. Schmid.)
FIG. 25.
A PART OF LJUBLJANA
(From W. Schmid.)
FIG. 26.
LINCOLN, OUTLINE OF ROMAN WALLS
(See p. 118.)
FIG. 26.
LINCOLN, OUTLINE OF ROMAN WALLS
(See p. 118.)
FIG. 27.
LINCOLN, BASES OF COLONNADE UNDER BAILGATE
(p. 118.)
FIG. 27.
LINCOLN, BASES OF COLONNADE UNDER BAILGATE
(p. 118.)
For a second example turn to a remote corner of central Spain. The town of Numantia was famous in early days for its long struggle with the armies of the Roman Republic. Under Roman rule it was wholly insignificant. Over the débris of Numantine liberty a little Roman town grew up. But it is hardly mentioned save in one or two road-books. Yet it enjoyed some form of municipal status and its streets and houses show to the excavator traces of Roman town-planning. The streets ran parallel or at right angles to one another; the house-blocks measured some 50 yds. square.[100]
For a second example, let's look at a remote part of central Spain. The town of Numantia was well-known in ancient times for its long fight against the armies of the Roman Republic. Under Roman rule, it became completely insignificant. Over the ruins of Numantine freedom, a small Roman town emerged. However, it's hardly mentioned except in a few road guides. Still, it had some kind of municipal status, and its streets and buildings reveal signs of Roman town planning. The streets ran parallel or at right angles to each other, and the city blocks were about 50 yards square.[100]
A third example may be drawn from our own country. Lincoln, the Roman Lindum, was established as a 'colonia' about A.D. 75, and the lines of its original area, its 'Altstadt'—for it was perhaps enlarged in Roman times,—can still be traced 'Above Hill' round the Castle and Cathedral (fig. 26). It formed a rectangle just over 41 acres in extent (400 x 500 yds.). Four gates, one of which still keeps its Roman arch, gave access to the two main streets which divided the town into four symmetrical quarters and crossed at right angles in the centre. Along one of these streets, which agrees, if only roughly, with the modern Bailgate, ran a stately colonnade (fig. 27), though whether this belonged to some special building or adorned the whole extent of street is not quite certain. Beneath the same street ran, as at Timgad and Laibach and elsewhere, the town sewer (fig. 28). Of the other main street and of side streets nothing is known, but we can hardly doubt that they carried out the chess-board pattern.[101]
A third example can be taken from our own country. Lincoln, originally known as the Roman Lindum, was established as a 'colonia' around A.D. 75, and the boundaries of its original area, its 'Old Town'—which may have been expanded in Roman times—can still be traced 'Above Hill' around the Castle and Cathedral (fig. 26). It covered a rectangle of just over 41 acres (400 x 500 yards). Four gates, one of which still has its Roman arch, provided access to the two main streets that divided the town into four symmetrical quarters and intersected at right angles in the center. Along one of these streets, which roughly aligns with the modern Bailgate, there was an impressive colonnade (fig. 27), though it's unclear whether this was part of a specific building or if it extended the entire length of the street. Beneath that same street ran the town sewer, similar to Timgad and Laibach and other places (fig. 28). We know little about the other main street and side streets, but it’s hard to believe they didn’t follow the chessboard layout. [101]
Probably the other four municipalities in Britain were planned similarly, though the evidence is too slender to prove it. At Verulamium (for example) near St. Albans, a local archaeologist long ago claimed to detect a scheme of symmetrical house-blocks, resembling squares very slightly askew. Subsequent inquiry has shown that this scheme was merely or mostly imagination.[102]
Probably the other four municipalities in Britain were planned similarly, though the evidence is too slim to prove it. At Verulamium (for example) near St. Albans, a local archaeologist claimed long ago to see a layout of symmetrical house blocks that looked like slightly tilted squares. Later investigations have revealed that this layout was mostly a product of imagination.[102]
FIG. 28.
LINCOLN. SEWER UNDER BAILGATE
FIG. 28.
LINCOLN. SEWER UNDER BAILGATE
CHAPTER IX
ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWN-PLANS. II
CHAPTER IX
ROMAN PROVINCIAL TOWN PLANS. II
In the preceding chapters Roman town-planning has been treated in connexion with towns of definite municipal rank, which bore the titles 'colonia' or 'municipium'. The system is, of course, closely akin to such foundation or refoundation as the establishment of a 'colonia' implied in the early Empire, while the no less Roman character of the 'municipium' made town-planning appropriate to this class of town also.
In the earlier chapters, Roman town planning has been discussed in relation to towns that held specific municipal status, known as 'colonia' or 'municipium'. This system is clearly similar to the establishment or re-establishment of a 'colonia' during the early Empire, while the distinctly Roman nature of the 'municipium' also made this kind of town planning relevant for this category of towns.
It was, however, not limited to these towns. It appears not seldom in provincial towns of lower legal status, such as were not uncommon in Britain, in Gaul, and in some other districts. Four instances may be quoted from the two provinces just named. In the first, Autun, the town-planning is explained by the establishment of the town full-grown under Roman official influence. Unfortunately, however, little is known of the buildings, and it is difficult to judge of the actual character of the place. In the second case, Trier, we may conjecture a similar official origin. At Silchester, official influence seems also to have been at work, and it is not impossible that the fourth case, Caerwent, may be explained by the same cause. In these two latter, however, it is more important to observe the nature of the towns, which is better known than that of any others in western Europe. For they embody a type of urban life which is distinct from any that occurs in Italy or in the better civilized districts of the Empire, and which illustrates strikingly one stratum of provincial culture.
It wasn't just limited to these towns. It often showed up in provincial towns with lower legal status, which were quite common in Britain, Gaul, and a few other areas. Four examples can be noted from the two provinces mentioned. In the first example, Autun, the town's layout reflects its development under Roman official influence. Unfortunately, not much is known about the buildings, making it hard to judge the actual character of the place. In the second case, Trier, we can guess a similar official origin. At Silchester, it also appears that official influence was significant, and it's possible that the fourth case, Caerwent, can be explained by the same reason. However, in these last two, it’s more important to note the nature of the towns, which is better documented than that of others in Western Europe. They represent a type of urban life that differs from those found in Italy or more developed areas of the Empire, and they strikingly illustrate one layer of provincial culture.
Autun (fig. 29).
Autun (fig. 29).
Caesar won northern and central Gaul for the Roman Empire; it fell to Augustus to organize the conquered but as yet unromanized lands. Among many steps to that end, he seems to have planted new native towns which should take the places of old native tribal capitals and should drive out local Celtic traditions by new Roman municipal interests. These new towns did not, as a rule, enjoy the full Roman municipal status; northern Gaul was not quite ripe for that. But they were plainly devised to help Romanization forward, and their object is declared by their half-Roman, half-Celtic names—Augustodunum (now Autun), Caesaromagus (Beauvais), Augusta Suessionum (Soissons), Augusta Treverorum (Trier), and the like.[103] Of two of these, Autun and Trier, we chance to know the town-plans. The reader will notice a certain similarity between them.
Caesar conquered northern and central Gaul for the Roman Empire; it was up to Augustus to organize the conquered but still unromanized territories. Among many steps to achieve this, he seems to have established new native towns that would replace the old tribal capitals and push out local Celtic traditions with new Roman municipal interests. These new towns generally did not have full Roman municipal status; northern Gaul wasn't quite ready for that. However, they were clearly designed to promote Romanization, as indicated by their half-Roman, half-Celtic names—Augustodunum (now Autun), Caesaromagus (Beauvais), Augusta Suessionum (Soissons), Augusta Treverorum (Trier), and so on.[103] For two of these towns, Autun and Trier, we happen to have their town plans. The reader will notice a certain similarity between them.
FIG. 29.
AUTUN
(After H. de Fontenay, 1889.)
FIG. 29.
AUTUN
(After H. de Fontenay, 1889.)
Autun stands on the site and contains the stately ruins of the Roman Augustodunum, built by Augustus about 12 B.C. He, as it seems, brought down the Gaulish dwellers in the old native hill-fortress of Bibracte, on Mont-Beuvray, and planted them twelve miles away on an unoccupied site beside the river Arroux. The new town covered an area of something like 490 acres—that is, if the now traceable walls and gates are, as is generally thought, the work of Augustus. The town within the walls must have been laid out all at once. Quite a large part of it, perhaps has much as three-quarters, have revealed to the careful inquiries of French archaeologists a regular system of quadrangular street-planning, which may very likely have extended even through the unexplored quarter. The Roman street which ran through the town from south to north, from the Porte de Rome to the Porte d'Arroux, was fronted by at least thirteen 'insulae', and one of the streets which crossed it at right angles was fronted by eleven such blocks. They vary somewhat in size. The larger 'insulae', which lie west of the main north and south street, are oblong and measure about 150 x 100 yds. (say, 3 acres); many smaller ones are more nearly square (98 x 98 or 109 yds., about 2 acres).
Autun is located on the site that features the impressive ruins of the Roman Augustodunum, established by Augustus around 12 B.C. It appears that he relocated the Gaulish residents from the ancient hill fortress of Bibracte on Mont-Beuvray, positioning them twelve miles away on an unoccupied area next to the river Arroux. The new town spanned approximately 490 acres—if the currently visible walls and gates are indeed attributed to Augustus, as is commonly believed. The layout of the town within the walls must have been planned all at once. A significant portion of it, possibly as much as three-quarters, has revealed through thorough investigation by French archaeologists a consistent system of rectangular street planning, which likely extended into the unexplored sections. The Roman street that ran from south to north, from the Porte de Rome to the Porte d'Arroux, was lined with at least thirteen 'insulae', and one of the streets that intersected it at right angles was lined with eleven such blocks. Their sizes vary slightly. The larger 'insulae' located west of the main north-south street are rectangular and measure about 150 x 100 yards (around 3 acres); many of the smaller ones are closer to square (98 x 98 or 109 yards, about 2 acres).
But the regularity of the plan is plainly the work of civilized man. When the Celts were brought to live in a Roman city, care was taken that it should be really Roman.[104] Only we may perhaps wonder whether the plan may not have been drawn by Augustus with an eye more to the future than to the present and may have included more 'insulae' than there were actually inhabitants to occupy at once. That was the case certainly in the mediaeval English town of Winchelsea, where the rectangular building-plots laid out by Edward I have in great measure lain empty and untenanted to the present day.
But the layout of the plan is clearly the result of a civilized society. When the Celts were settled in a Roman city, efforts were made to ensure it was genuinely Roman.[104] We might wonder, however, if the plan was created by Augustus with a vision for the future rather than the present, possibly including more 'insulae' than there were actually people to fill them at once. This was certainly true in the medieval English town of Winchelsea, where the rectangular building plots established by Edward I have largely remained empty and unoccupied to this day.
Trier (fig. 30).
Trier (fig. 30).
We may take another example from a northern city, Trier on the Mosel, in north-eastern Gaul (Augusta Treverorum). It was in its later days a large city, perhaps the largest Roman city in western Europe. When its walls were built and its famous north gate, the Porta Nigra, was erected, probably towards the end of the third century, they included a space of 704 acres, twenty-five times as much as the original Timgad, though, it must be added, this area may not have been wholly covered with houses. But it was then an old city. Its earliest remains date from the earliest days of the Roman Empire (A.D. 2), when it was founded, like Autun, on a spot which had (as it seems) never been inhabited before.[105] Of this first beginning we possess vestiges which concern us here. Eight or nine years ago, when the modern town was provided with drainage, the engineers of the work and the Trier archaeologists, headed by the late Dr. Graven, combined to note the points where the drainage trenches cut through pieces of Roman roadway.[106]
We can look at another example from a northern city, Trier on the Mosel, in northeastern Gaul (Augusta Treverorum). In its later years, it became a large city, possibly the biggest Roman city in western Europe. When its walls were constructed and its well-known north gate, the Porta Nigra, was built, likely towards the end of the third century, they encompassed an area of 704 acres, which is twenty-five times larger than the original Timgad, although it should be noted that this area may not have been completely filled with houses. But it was indeed an old city. Its oldest remains date back to the earliest days of the Roman Empire (A.D. 2), when it was established, like Autun, at a location that seems to have never been inhabited before.[105] From this initial phase, we have fragments that are relevant here. Eight or nine years ago, when new drainage was put in place in the modern town, the engineers and the Trier archaeologists, led by the late Dr. Graven, worked together to document where the drainage trenches intersected with sections of Roman road.[106]
These points yielded a regular plan of streets crossing at right angles, which in many of its features much resembles that of Autun. Thirteen streets were traced running east and west, and eight (Dr. Graven says seven but his plan shows eight) running north and south. The east and west streets, with two exceptions, lay some 320 ft. from one another. The north and south streets varied, some observing that distance, others being no more than 260 ft. apart. As a result, the rectangular house-blocks varied also in size. The largest seem to be those which fronted a street that crossed the town from east to west, from the Imperial Palace to the Baths and the West Gate, and corresponds roughly with the present Kaiserstrasse. This may well have been the decumanus, the main east and west street of the 'colonia', and hence the house-blocks fronting it may have been unusually large (p. 77). One of them, near the Neumarkt, reached the awkward size of nearly 3½ acres (320 x 460 ft.). Others elsewhere were smaller, many measuring 320 x 320 ft., and others again 320 x 245 ft., rather less than 2 acres. In general, the 'insulae' on the east and west sides of the town were larger than those in the centre. The whole has a resemblance to Autun, and is more irregular than writers on Trier are ready to allow.[107]
These points created a regular grid of streets that intersect at right angles, which resembles the layout of Autun in many ways. Thirteen streets were mapped out running east and west, and eight (Dr. Graven states seven, but his map shows eight) running north and south. With two exceptions, the east and west streets were about 320 ft. apart. The north and south streets varied, with some following that distance while others were as close as 260 ft. apart. Consequently, the rectangular city blocks also varied in size. The largest blocks seem to be those facing a street that ran across the town from east to west, connecting the Imperial Palace to the Baths and the West Gate, roughly aligning with today’s Kaiserstrasse. This street may have been the decumanus, the main east-west street of the 'colonia', which could explain why the blocks facing it were particularly large (p. 77). One of these blocks, near the Neumarkt, was an awkward size of nearly 3½ acres (320 x 460 ft.). Others in different areas were smaller, many measuring 320 x 320 ft., and others measuring 320 x 245 ft., just under 2 acres. In general, the 'insulae' on the east and west sides of the town were larger than those in the center. Overall, the layout bears a resemblance to Autun but is more irregular than what writers on Trier are willing to acknowledge. [107]
How many houses may have occupied either a large or a small 'insula' is uncertain; indeed, we know next to nothing of the private houses of Roman Trier. Nor can we fix the number of the 'insulae'. On the west, and still more on the east and south-east of the town, much of the area was not touched by the drainage works and therefore went unexplored. We have proof only of streets and buildings for a mile in length and half a mile in breadth.
How many houses may have been in either a large or a small 'insula' is unclear; in fact, we know very little about the private houses of Roman Trier. We also can't determine the number of 'insulae'. To the west, and even more so to the east and southeast of the town, much of the area was not affected by the drainage work and thus remains unexplored. We only have evidence of streets and buildings covering a mile in length and half a mile in width.
FIG. 30.
TRIER
(From plan by the late Dr. Gräven.)
FIG. 30.
TRIER
(From a plan by the late Dr. Gräven.)
Nevertheless we may make some guess at the original area. The streetage itself plainly dates from the original foundation of the Romano-Gaulish town by Augustus. There is, indeed, no other epoch in its history, so far as we know it, when a complete laying out could have been carried through. On the other hand, it is not probable that the first town was a mile long and half a mile wide. Possibly, as an acute German archaeologist has suggested, the small 'insulae' in the south of the town may indicate the line of an original wall and ditch which, like the first walls of Timgad, were overrun later by an expanding town. Certainly, early graves found hereabouts show that this space lay once outside the inhabited area, and similar evidence has been noted both on the north of the town in the Simeonstrasse, and on the west near the Mosel Bridge. If this be so, Augusta Treverorum may have at first covered only 120 or 130 acres; then, as the place spread beyond its original limits, its builders followed more or less closely the lines of the first streets, and, save near the Porta Nigra, continued the chess-board pattern as it was continued at Turin.
We can try to estimate the original area. The layout of the streets clearly dates back to the founding of the Romano-Gaulish town by Augustus. There's really no other time in its history, as far as we know, when a complete layout could have been established. However, it's unlikely that the first town measured a mile long and half a mile wide. Possibly, as a sharp German archaeologist has pointed out, the small 'insulae' in the southern part of the town might indicate where an original wall and ditch were located, which were later overtaken by a growing town, similar to the initial walls of Timgad. Certainly, early graves found in the area show that this space was once outside the inhabited zone, and similar findings have been noted to the north of the town on Simeonstrasse and to the west near the Mosel Bridge. If this is correct, Augusta Treverorum may have initially covered only 120 or 130 acres; then, as the town extended beyond its original boundaries, its builders more or less followed the lines of the first streets, and, except near the Porta Nigra, continued the grid pattern as it was expanded in Turin.
Silchester (figs. 31, 32).
Silchester (figs. 31, 32).
Silchester, Calleva Atrebatum (fig. 31), shows a different picture, which is the more interesting because the excavations carried out in 1890-1909 have given us a fuller knowledge of the town than of any other Roman site in the western provinces.[108] It was, apparently, the old tribal capital of the Atrebates and the county-town of its district in Roman days; though not possessing the full municipal status, it was probably the seat of local government for a considerable neighbourhood. In outline it was an irregular eight-sided area of 100 acres, defended by a strong stone wall, which was added long after the original foundation. Internally it was divided up by streets which, except near the east gate, run parallel or at right angles to one another. Its buildings are: a Forum and Basilica, a suite of public baths, four small temples, a small Christian church, a hotel, and a large number of private houses. Its area is by no means filled with buildings. Garden ground must have been common and cheap, and the buildings themselves do not form continuous streets; they do not even front the roadway in the manner of houses in Italian towns. In these respects Silchester differs widely from any of the examples which we have already considered, so far as their internal buildings are known to us. I will not call it a 'garden city', for a garden city represents an attempt to add some of the features of the country to a town. Silchester, I fancy, represents the exact opposite. It is an attempt to insert urban features into a country-side.
Silchester, Calleva Atrebatum (fig. 31), presents a different scenario, which is especially interesting because the excavations from 1890-1909 have provided us with more knowledge about the town than any other Roman site in the western provinces.[108] It was likely the old tribal capital of the Atrebates and the county seat of its district during Roman times; although it didn't have full municipal status, it probably served as the center of local government for a large area. The town was shaped like an irregular eight-sided area of 100 acres, protected by a strong stone wall that was built long after its original foundation. Inside, it was laid out with streets that, except near the east gate, either ran parallel or were at right angles to each other. The notable buildings include a Forum and Basilica, a set of public baths, four small temples, a small Christian church, an inn, and many private homes. The area isn't completely filled with buildings. There must have been plenty of garden space, and the buildings themselves don't create continuous streets; they don’t even face the road like houses in Italian towns. In these ways, Silchester is quite different from the examples we've looked at so far in terms of their internal structures. I wouldn't call it a 'garden city,' since that term suggests a blend of country features into a town. Silchester, I believe, represents the exact opposite. It’s an effort to introduce urban features into the countryside.
FIG. 31.
SILCHESTER
(For detail see fig. 32.)
FIG. 31.
SILCHESTER
(For details see fig. 32.)
Most of it must have been laid out at once. At any rate, the area of which the 'insulae' numbered X, XXI, XXXV, and XIX form the corners, and the Forum the centre, must have been planned complete from the first. This covers just 40 acres, and is divided into rectangular plots of which the smallest covers a little less than an acre and a half, while the largest fall little short of 3½ acres.[109] Outside this area, the division of the town into 'insulae' is less completely carried through, although most of the streets run straight on as far as the walls, and one or two details may tempt us to think that the division into 'insulae' was at some time extended beyond the line ultimately taken by the walls.
Most of it must have been planned all at once. In any case, the area where the 'insulae' numbered X, XXI, XXXV, and XIX are at the corners, with the Forum in the center, must have been fully designed from the beginning. This covers just 40 acres and is divided into rectangular plots, with the smallest being a bit less than an acre and a half, while the largest is just under 3½ acres.[109] Outside this area, the division of the town into 'insulae' is not as thoroughly implemented, although most streets extend straight to the walls, and a couple of details might suggest that the division into 'insulae' was at some point pushed beyond the final boundaries set by the walls.
FIG. 32.
DETAILS OF FOUR INSULAE, THE FORUM AND THE CHURCH AT SILCHESTER
(From Archaeologia.)
FIG. 32.
DETAILS OF FOUR INSULAE, THE FORUM AND THE CHURCH AT SILCHESTER
(From Archaeologia.)
But whatever the exact amount of Roman building and Roman street-plan given to Silchester when it was first laid out, the place is not in effect a real town. It is not merely that, as I have said, the houses do not form continuous streets. A glance at the houses will show that they could not possibly be fitted into streets. The types of house here visible are not town houses. They are the types which appear among the 'villas', that is, the landlords' or the farmers' dwellings, up and down the rural districts of Roman Britain and northern Gaul, and the town which they constitute is a conglomeration of country houses. The reverse has taken place of that which we often see to-day in England. Our modern builders and architects had—until perhaps quite recently—only one idea of a small house, the house, namely, which to-day characterizes the monotonous streets in the poorer quarters of our new towns, with its front door and bow window on one side, its offices behind, and its two other sides left blank for other houses to stand against. This is a town house. Yet our modern builders use it, all by itself, in the most desolate country districts. I came across one such not long ago, when driving over a lonely valley in Exmoor. There it stood, with no other house near it, yet with its two sides blankly waiting for the street that ought to form itself to the right and left.
But no matter the exact amount of Roman buildings and street plans given to Silchester when it was first established, the place isn't really a true town. It's not just that, as I mentioned, the houses don't form continuous streets. A quick look at the houses shows that they couldn’t possibly fit into streets. The types of houses visible here aren't urban homes. They're the kinds that appear among the 'villas,' meaning the landlords’ or farmers' dwellings scattered across the rural areas of Roman Britain and northern Gaul, and the town they create is a collection of country houses. What's happened here is the opposite of what we often see today in England. Our modern builders and architects had—until perhaps quite recently—only one concept of a small house, which today defines the monotonous streets in the less affluent parts of our new towns. This house has its front door and bow window on one side, its offices behind, and its other two sides left empty for other houses to be built against. This is an urban house. Yet our modern builders use it all by itself in the most isolated rural areas. I came across one such house not long ago while driving through a lonely valley in Exmoor. There it stood, with no other house nearby, yet its two sides blankly waiting for the street that should form to the right and left.
The opposite of this has occurred at Calleva; here the rural house has been used, with scarcely a change, to form a town. We see the Roman street-plan introduced in surroundings which are not properly urban. The outward expression of the civilised municipal system jostles against a provincial and rural life. Here was a premature attempt to municipalize the Briton, which outstripped the readiness of the Briton to be municipalized. Silchester was probably a tribal centre before the Roman came; for awhile it may have remained much the same under Roman rule. But forty years after the Roman Conquest, in the reign of Vespasian (about A.D. 70-85), the Romanization of the whole province appears to have rapidly advanced. It was, indeed, encouraged by the Home Government. Various details suggest that the laying out of Silchester belonged to this very date. But to this the Callevan failed to rise. He learnt much from Rome; he learnt even town-life; he did not learn town-life in its highest form. When his town had been 'haussmannized' and fitted with Roman streets, and equipped with Roman Forum and Basilica, and the rest, he yet continued to live—perhaps more happily than the true townsman—in his irregularly grouped houses and cottages amid an expanse of gardens. The area of Silchester differed little from that of Aosta; its population, if we may judge by the number of dwelling-houses, was hardly as large as that of Timgad.
The opposite has happened at Calleva; here, the rural house has been used, with hardly any changes, to create a town. We see the Roman street layout introduced in surroundings that aren’t truly urban. The outward signs of a civilized municipal system clash with a provincial and rural lifestyle. This was an early attempt to make the Briton part of a municipality, which was ahead of the Briton’s willingness to adapt. Silchester was likely a tribal center before the Romans arrived; for a while, it may have stayed much the same under Roman rule. But forty years after the Roman Conquest, during the reign of Vespasian (around A.D. 70-85), the Romanization of the entire province seems to have progressed rapidly. In fact, it was encouraged by the central government. Various details suggest that the layout of Silchester was from this particular time. However, the people of Calleva failed to fully embrace this change. They learned a lot from Rome; they even experienced urban life, but not in its most advanced form. Even when their town was "haussmannized” and fitted with Roman streets, a Forum, a Basilica, and other features, they continued to live—perhaps more happily than true city dwellers—in their irregularly arranged houses and cottages surrounded by gardens. The size of Silchester was similar to that of Aosta; its population, based on the number of homes, was hardly as large as that of Timgad.
Caerwent (fig. 33).
Caerwent (fig. 33).
I turn lastly to another Romano-British town, Caerwent (Venta Silurum), between Chepstow and Newport in Monmouthshire. It is a smaller town than Silchester. Both towns perhaps began with the same area, 40 or 45 acres. But Caerwent never expanded; it remained not much more than 45 acres within the walls. Land was probably valuable within it; certainly its houses are packed closer, and its garden ground is smaller than at Silchester. Its general type is, however, the same. It has a very similar Forum and Basilica, Temples, an Amphitheatre, and a large number of private houses which resemble closely those of Silchester. It has, moreover, at least in the parts that have been so far excavated, distinct traces of a rectangular street pattern, which, if it was carried through the whole town, would provide (including the Forum) twenty 'insulae'. The size of these blocks cannot be determined with any precision. Indeed, in some cases the houses seem to have encroached on and distorted the street-plan. Probably it would be true to say that the average block covered an acre and a half or an acre and two-thirds.[110] We do not know enough of the history of Caerwent to do more than guess how this street-plan came to it. Very likely the same process of establishing a Roman-looking town for a local capital was adopted here as at Silchester. Very likely the step was taken in the same period as at Silchester, that is, in the last thirty years of the first century. Its occurrence is significant. Caerwent lay remote in the far west, with nothing but garrisons beyond it. It was the outpost of Roman city life towards the Atlantic. It was the only town of Roman municipal plan in Britain which was swept by Atlantic breezes.[111]
I’ll now focus on another Romano-British town, Caerwent (Venta Silurum), located between Chepstow and Newport in Monmouthshire. It’s a smaller town compared to Silchester. Both towns likely started with a similar area of about 40 or 45 acres. However, Caerwent never grew beyond this; it stayed just over 45 acres within its walls. The land there was probably valuable, as its houses are closer together and its gardens are smaller than those in Silchester. The general layout is quite similar, featuring a Forum and Basilica, Temples, an Amphitheatre, and many private houses that closely resemble those in Silchester. Additionally, at least in the areas that have been excavated so far, there are clear signs of a rectangular street pattern, which, if it extended throughout the entire town, would create (including the Forum) twenty 'insulae'. The exact size of these blocks can’t be determined precisely. In some cases, the houses seem to have intruded upon and altered the street layout. It’s probably safe to say that the average block measured around an acre and a half to an acre and two-thirds.[110] We don’t know enough about Caerwent’s history to accurately guess how this street layout originated. It’s likely that a similar process of creating a Roman-style town for a local capital occurred here, as it did in Silchester. It’s also probable that this development took place during the same period as at Silchester, specifically in the last thirty years of the first century. This is significant. Caerwent was located far out in the west, with only garrisons beyond it. It was the outpost of Roman city life towards the Atlantic. It was the only town in Britain designed according to Roman municipal plans, exposed to Atlantic breezes.[111]
FIG. 33.
CAERWENT
(Reduced from plan by F. King.)
FIG. 33.
CAERWENT
(Reduced from plan by F. King.)
Silchester and Caerwent did not stand alone in Britain. At Wroxeter, the ancient Viroconium, tribal centre of the Cornovii and a Romano-British country-town much like Silchester, though somewhat larger, oblong 'insulae' have recently been detected by Mr. J.P. Bushe-Fox which measure 103 x 126 yds. (2-2/3 acres). At Cirencester, the Romano-British centre for the canton of the Dobuni and a still larger town than Wroxeter, the 'insulae' near the Basilica seem to have measured as much as 120 yards in length, though full details have not yet been obtained. Both these towns may be ascribed to the later years of the first century and to the same civilizing process as Silchester and Caerwent. As further Romano-British towns are uncovered, we may therefore hope for more examples. However imperfectly the inner meaning of town-planning was understood, it was plainly common in the south of Roman Britain.
Silchester and Caerwent weren’t the only towns in Britain. At Wroxeter, the ancient Viroconium, which served as the tribal center for the Cornovii and was similar to Silchester but larger, recent discoveries by Mr. J.P. Bushe-Fox have revealed long rectangular city blocks ('insulae') measuring 103 x 126 yards (2-2/3 acres). In Cirencester, the Romano-British hub for the Dobuni, which is even bigger than Wroxeter, the blocks near the Basilica seem to have been as long as 120 yards, though we don’t have all the details yet. Both towns likely developed in the later years of the first century, part of the same cultural growth process as Silchester and Caerwent. As we uncover more Romano-British towns, we can expect to find more examples. Despite the limitations in understanding town planning at the time, it was clearly common in southern Roman Britain.
NOTE. THE EASTERN PROVINCES.
NOTE: EASTERN PROVINCES.
To complete the survey of Roman provincial town-planning, we must glance briefly at the East. Here towns of Roman origin were few, and of those few scarcely any are well known. But they do not lack interest. For example, take Antinoê, built by Hadrian in memory of his favourite Antinous, on the banks of the Nile. It was a parallelogram more than 3 miles round, which covered an area of 360 acres. Two main streets, each colonnaded, crossed at right angles and cut it into four parts. Of the other streets, nothing certain seems to be known. But references to the town in papyri denote four quarters of it by various letters, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and distinguish its house-blocks by the term Plintheion with a numeral attached. Thus, a house is described as lying 'in the letter Delta and the Plintheion 7'. Our documents show that there were in Antinoê at least eleven of these Plintheia.[112] It is fairly plain that they are rectangular 'insulae', of either Roman or Hellenic type, while the general fashion of the town and of its monuments suggest a Greek rather than an Italian city.
To complete the overview of Roman provincial town planning, we need to briefly look at the East. There were few towns of Roman origin here, and among those, hardly any are well-known. However, they are still interesting. For example, there's Antinoë, founded by Hadrian in memory of his favorite, Antinous, along the Nile. It was a parallelogram over 3 miles around, covering 360 acres. Two main streets, each lined with columns, intersected at right angles and divided the town into four sections. Little is definitively known about the other streets. Still, references in papyri mention four parts of the town using various letters: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta, and identify its blocks with the term Plintheion followed by a number. For instance, a house is described as being 'in the letter Delta and the Plintheion 7'. Our documents indicate that there were at least eleven of these Plintheia in Antinoë. It seems pretty clear they were rectangular 'insulae', either Roman or Hellenic in style, while the overall design of the town and its monuments points more toward a Greek than an Italian city.
FIG. 34.
BOSTRA
(After Baedeker.)
FIG. 34.
BOSTRA
(After Baedeker.)
Another instance may be found still further east, in the land beyond Jordan, at the capital of the Haurân, Bosrâ, anciently Bostra. Little has been achieved in the way of exploration of this site beyond studies of the stately ruins of theatres, palaces, temples, triumphal arches, aqueducts. Little can therefore be said as to the date of its ground-plan. But it was rectangular in outline, or nearly so; and its streets crossed at right angles and enclosed rectangular insulae.[113] The place owes all its greatness to Rome. During the second century it was the fortress of the Legio III Cyrenaica, which guarded this part of the eastern Roman frontier. About A.D. 225 it became a 'colonia,' and perhaps we should date from this the town-plan just described (fig. 34).
Another example can be found even further east, in the land beyond Jordan, at the capital of Haurân, Bosrâ, formerly known as Bostra. There hasn't been much exploration of this site aside from studies of the impressive ruins of theaters, palaces, temples, triumphal arches, and aqueducts. Therefore, not much can be said about the date of its ground plan. However, it was rectangular in shape, or close to it; and its streets crossed at right angles and surrounded rectangular blocks.[113] The city's significance is entirely due to Rome. During the second century, it served as the fortress of the Legio III Cyrenaica, which defended this section of the eastern Roman frontier. Around A.D. 225, it became a 'colonia,' and we should likely date the town plan just described from this time (fig. 34).
This rectangular planning remained long in use in the Eastern Empire. When in A.D. 705 (as it seems) the town of Chersonnesus in the Crimea was rebuilt after a total destruction, it was rebuilt on a symmetrical plan of oblong 'insulae' (25-30 by 60-70 yds. area). Its streets were mean and narrow. But their plan at least was apparently more regular than that of their predecessors.[114]
This rectangular layout continued to be used in the Eastern Empire for a long time. When the town of Chersonnesus in the Crimea was rebuilt in A.D. 705 after being completely destroyed, it was constructed on a symmetrical plan of rectangular 'insulae' (25-30 by 60-70 yards in area). The streets were modest and narrow. However, at least the layout seemed to be more organized than that of the previous structures.[114]
Archaeology tells us that the western half of the Roman Empire and many districts in its eastern half used a definite town-plan which may be named, for brevity, the chess-board pattern. It remains to ask whether literature, or at least legal literature, provides any basis of theory or any ratification of the actual system which archaeology reveals. Of augural lore we have indeed enough and to spare. We know that the decumanus and the cardo, the two main lines of the Roman land-survey and probably also the two main streets of the Roman town-plan,[115] were laid out under definite augural and semi-religious provision. We should expect to find more. A system of town-planning that is so distinctive and so widely used might reasonably have created a series of building-laws sanctioning or modifying it. This did not occur. Neither the lawyers nor even the land-surveyors, the so-called Gromatici, tell us of any legal rules relative to town-planning as distinct from surveying in general. The surveyors, in particular, are much more concerned with the soil of the province and its 'limitation' and 'centuriation', than with the arrangements of any individual town, and, whatever their value for extramural boundaries,[116] throw no light on streets and 'insulae'.
Archaeology shows us that the western part of the Roman Empire and many regions in the eastern part followed a specific town plan that can be briefly described as the chess-board pattern. We should ask whether literature, or at least legal literature, offers any theoretical basis or confirmation of the actual system that archaeology uncovers. We do have plenty of information about augural traditions. We know that the decumanus and the cardo, the two main lines in the Roman land survey and likely also the two main streets in the Roman town layout, were established according to specific augural and semi-religious guidelines. We would expect to find more. A town-planning system that is so unique and widely implemented might reasonably have led to a series of building laws that endorse or modify it. However, this did not happen. Neither the lawyers nor even the land surveyors, known as Gromatici, mention any legal rules related to town planning as distinct from general surveying. The surveyors, in fact, are much more focused on the land of the province and its 'limitation' and 'centuriation' than on the layout of any individual town, and while their insights may be useful for outer boundaries, they provide no clarity on streets and 'insulae'.
The nearest approach to building-laws which occurs is a clause which seems to be a standing provision in many municipal charters and similar documents from the age of Cicero onwards, to the effect that no man might destroy, unroof, or dismantle an urban building unless he was ready to replace it by a building at least as good or had received special permission from his local town council. The earliest example of this provision occurs in the charter of the municipality of Tarentum, which was drawn up in the time of Cicero.[117] It is repeated in practically the same words in the charter of the 'colonia Genetiva' in southern Spain, which was founded in 44 B.C.; it recurs in the charter granted to the municipality of Malaga, also in southern Spain, about A.D. 82.[118] Somewhat similar prohibitions of the removal of even old and worthless houses without special leave are implied in decrees of the Roman Senate passed in A.D. 44 and A.D. 56, though these seem really to relate to rural rather than to urban buildings and were perhaps more agrarian than municipal in their object.[119] Hadrian, in a dispatch written in A.D. 127 to an eastern town which had lately obtained something like municipal status, includes a provision that a house in the town belonging to one Claudius Socrates must either be repaired by him or handed over to some other citizen.[120] Similar legislation occurs in A.D. 224 and in the time of Diocletian and later.[121]
The closest thing to building regulations that we see is a clause that appears to be a standard rule in many city charters and similar documents from the time of Cicero onward. This rule states that no one is allowed to demolish, remove the roof, or tear down a city building unless they are ready to replace it with a building of at least equal quality or have received special permission from their local town council. The earliest instance of this rule is found in the charter of the municipality of Tarentum, created during Cicero's time.[117] It is repeated almost identically in the charter of the 'colonia Genetiva' in southern Spain, established in 44 B.C.; it appears again in the charter granted to the municipality of Malaga, also in southern Spain, around A.D. 82.[118] Similar restrictions against tearing down even old and dilapidated houses without special permission are suggested in decrees from the Roman Senate passed in A.D. 44 and A.D. 56, although these appear to relate more to rural than urban buildings and were likely more focused on agricultural issues than municipal ones.[119] Hadrian, in a letter written in A.D. 127 to an eastern town that had recently achieved something like municipal status, includes a rule stating that a house in the town owned by one Claudius Socrates must either be repaired by him or given to another citizen.[120] Similar laws appear in A.D. 224 and during the times of Diocletian and beyond.[121]
Rules were also laid down occasionally to forbid balconies and similar structures which might impede the light and air in narrow streets, and it was a common rule that cemeteries and brickyards must lie outside the area of inhabitation. At Rome too, efforts were made by various emperors to limit the height of the large tenement houses which there formed the 'insulae'. These limits were, however, fixed haphazard without due reference to the width of the streets; they do not seem to occur outside of Rome, and even in Rome they were very scantily observed.
Rules were sometimes established to ban balconies and similar structures that could block light and air in narrow streets, and it was a standard rule that cemeteries and brickyards had to be located outside residential areas. In Rome, various emperors also tried to limit the height of the large apartment buildings that made up the 'insulae'. However, these height restrictions were set randomly without properly considering the width of the streets; they didn't seem to be enforced outside of Rome, and even within Rome, they were not followed strictly.
But in general no definite laws were framed. Probably the municipalities were somewhat closely tied in the administration of municipal property and had to refer schemes for the employment even of the smallest bit of vacant space to the 'patron' or the curator of the town. But, apart from the provisions mentioned above, they had no specific rights, that are recorded, against private owners or builders. It was only once, after Rome itself had been burnt out, that an imperial order condemned landowners who 'held up' their ground instead of using it, to forfeit their ownership in favour of any one who offered to build at once.
But in general, no clear laws were established. The municipalities were probably a bit restricted in how they managed municipal property and had to get approval from the 'patron' or the curator of the town for even the smallest proposal to use vacant space. Other than the provisions mentioned above, they had no specific recorded rights against private owners or builders. It was only once, after Rome itself had been destroyed by fire, that an imperial order penalized landowners who 'held onto' their land instead of using it, making them forfeit ownership to anyone willing to build immediately.
CHAPTER XI
THE SEQUEL
CHAPTER 11
THE SEQUEL
What was the sequel to this long work of town-planning? Two facts stand out distinct. First, the Roman planning helped the towns of the Empire to take definite form, but when the Empire fell, it too met its end. Only here and there its vestiges lingered on in the streets of scattered cities like things of a former age. But, secondly, from this death it rose again, first in the thirteenth century, with ever-growing power to set the model for the city life of the modern world.
What was the follow-up to this extensive work of city planning? Two things are clear. First, Roman planning gave the towns of the Empire a solid structure, but when the Empire collapsed, it also came to an end. Only remnants survived here and there in the streets of scattered cities, like relics from a bygone era. However, secondly, from this decline, it emerged again, starting in the thirteenth century, with increasing strength to shape the city life of the modern world.
I. The value of town-planning to Roman civilization was twofold. It increased the comfort of the common man; it made the towns stronger and more coherent units to resist the barbarian invasions. When, after 250 years of conflict, the barbarians triumphed, its work was done. In the next age of ceaseless orderless warfare it was less fit, with its straight broad streets, for defence and for fighting than the chaos of narrow tortuous lanes out of which it had grown and to which it now returned. The cases are few in which survivals of Roman streets have conditioned the external form of mediaeval or modern towns. We in England tend perhaps to overrate the likelihood of such survivals. Our classical education has, until very lately, taught most of us more of ancient than of mediaeval history, and when our antiquaries find towns rectangular in outline and streets that cross in a Carfax, they give them a Roman origin.
I. The impact of town-planning on Roman civilization had two main benefits. It improved the daily lives of ordinary people and made the towns stronger and more organized to withstand barbarian invasions. After 250 years of conflict, when the barbarians ultimately prevailed, the town-planning efforts had fulfilled their purpose. In the following era of constant, unstructured warfare, Roman layouts with their wide, straight streets were less suitable for defense and combat compared to the chaotic, narrow alleys from which they had evolved and to which they eventually reverted. There are only a few instances where remnants of Roman streets have influenced the layout of medieval or modern towns. In England, we might overestimate the chances of such remnants surviving. Our classical education has, until recently, taught most of us more about ancient history than medieval history, and when our historians discover towns with rectangular shapes and streets that intersect in a Carfax, they often attribute it to Roman origins.
Such a tendency is wrong. Plentiful evidence shows that even in Italy and even in towns where men have dwelt without a break since Roman days, the Roman streets, and with them the Roman town-plans, have far oftener vanished than endured. Rome herself, the Eternal City, uses hardly one street to-day which was used in the Roman Empire. Some few Italian towns, described in detail above, have a better claim to be called 'eternal'; half a dozen in northern Italy retain their ancient streets in singular perfection. Yet even there cities like Padua and Mantua, Genoa and Pisa, have lost the signs of their older fashion. So, too, in the provinces. In the Danubian lands only one town can even be supposed to preserve a few of its Roman streets. In all the once great cities of that region, Sirmium and Siscia, Poetovio and Celeia and Emona, they have wholly gone; you may walk across the sites to-day and seek them in vain in modern street or hedgerow or lane. In Gaul there were many Roman municipalities in the south; there were many towns of lesser rank but equal wealth in the centre and west and north. But we owe our knowledge of their town-plans to an inscription from Orange and to some excavations at Autun and Trier. Cologne and Trier alone, or almost alone, keep Roman streets in modern use, and they are significant. Both became Roman towns in the first century; both held colonial rank; both have lived on continuously ever since and hardly changed their names. Yet both bear to-day the stamp of the Middle Ages, and the Roman streets which they use are small and nearly unrecognizable fragments.
Such a view is incorrect. Plenty of evidence shows that even in Italy, and even in towns where people have lived continuously since Roman times, the Roman streets and town plans have more often disappeared than remained. Rome itself, the Eternal City, hardly has a single street today that was used in the Roman Empire. A few Italian towns mentioned earlier have a stronger claim to being 'eternal'; about six in northern Italy still retain their ancient streets in remarkable condition. Still, even there, cities like Padua and Mantua, Genoa and Pisa, have lost signs of their older styles. The same goes for the provinces. In the Danube region, only one town is thought to preserve a few of its Roman streets. In all the once-great cities of that area — Sirmium, Siscia, Poetovio, Celeia, and Emona — they have completely disappeared; you can walk across those sites today without finding any trace of them in modern streets, hedgerows, or alleys. In Gaul, there were many Roman municipalities in the south and many towns of lesser rank but equal wealth in the center, west, and north. But our understanding of their town plans comes from an inscription from Orange and from some excavations at Autun and Trier. Cologne and Trier are among the few that still have Roman streets in use today, and they are noteworthy. Both became Roman towns in the first century; both were important colonially; both have existed continuously since then and have hardly changed their names. Yet both today bear the marks of the Middle Ages, and the Roman streets they still use are small and almost unrecognizable remnants.
There is, indeed, no law of survivals. Chance—that convenient ancient word to denote the interaction of many imponderable forces—has ruled one way in one place and otherwise in another. Sometimes monuments have alone survived, sometimes only streets, and we can seldom give reasons for this contrast of fates. At Pola, gates, temples, and amphitheatre still tell of the Roman past and the modern town-square keeps so plainly the tradition of the Forum that you cannot walk across it without a sense of what it was. Yet not a single street agrees with those of the Roman 'colonia'. In the Lombard and Tuscan plains, at Turin and Pavia and Piacenza, at Florence and Lucca, the Roman streets are still in use, just as the old Roman field-ways still divide up the fertile plains outside those towns. But, save in Turin, hardly one Roman stone has been left upon another. In the no less fertile plain of the lower Rhone, at Nîmes and Arles and Orange, the stately ruins wake the admiration of the busiest and least learned traveller; of the Roman streets there is no sign.
There isn’t, in fact, any law of what survives. Chance—that handy old term to describe the interaction of many unknown forces—has shaped history differently in different places. Sometimes only monuments have stood the test of time, sometimes just streets, and we can rarely explain these varying outcomes. At Pola, the gates, temples, and amphitheater still speak of the Roman past, and the modern town square clearly maintains the tradition of the Forum, making it impossible to cross without sensing what it once was. Yet not a single street matches those of the Roman 'colonia'. In the Lombard and Tuscan plains, in Turin, Pavia, Piacenza, Florence, and Lucca, the Roman streets are still in use, just like the old Roman paths still carve through the fertile lands outside those cities. But, except in Turin, hardly a single Roman stone remains intact. In the equally fertile plain of the lower Rhone, in Nîmes, Arles, and Orange, the impressive ruins impress even the busiest and least knowledgeable traveler; there’s no trace of the Roman streets.
Britain has enjoyed less continuity of civilization than any other western province; in Britain the survivals are even fewer. In London, within the limits of the Roman city, no street to-day follows the course of any Roman street, though Roman roads that lead up to the gates are still in use. At Colchester the Roman walls still stand; the places of the Roman gates are known; the masonry of the west gate is still visible as the masonry of a gateway. But the modern and ancient streets do not coincide, and the west gate, which has so well withstood the blows of time, can hardly be reached by road from within the city. At York the defences of the legionary fortress have still their place in the sun, but the 'colonia' on the other bank of the Ouse has vanished wholly from the surface, walls and streets together, and the houses of the citizens of Eburacum are known solely by finds of mosaic floors. At Lincoln the Roman walls and gates can easily be traced and one gate rears its arch intact, but the Bailgate alone follows, and that erratically, the line of a Roman street. The road from the Humber, thirty miles north of Lincoln, runs to-day, as it has run for eighteen centuries, under the Newport arch and through the modern town and passes on southwards. That long straight road has given a feature to Lincoln, but it is a feature due to the Roman highway outside the town, not to the streets within it. Lincoln itself is as English as Cologne and Trier are German.
Britain has experienced less consistency in its civilization compared to any other western region; in Britain, the remnants are even scarcer. In London, within the limits of the Roman city, no street today follows the path of any Roman street, although Roman roads leading to the gates are still used. At Colchester, the Roman walls still stand; the locations of the Roman gates are known; the structure of the west gate is still visible as a gateway. However, the modern and ancient streets don't align, and the west gate, which has stood strong against time, can hardly be accessed by a road from within the city. At York, the defenses of the legionary fortress remain prominent, but the colonia across the Ouse has completely disappeared, along with its walls and streets, and the homes of the citizens of Eburacum are known only through discoveries of mosaic floors. At Lincoln, the Roman walls and gates can easily be traced, and one gate stands tall with its arch intact, but the Bailgate is the only road that somewhat follows the line of a Roman street and does so irregularly. The road from the Humber, thirty miles north of Lincoln, runs today, just as it has for eighteen centuries, under the Newport arch, through the modern town, and southward. That long, straight road is a distinctive feature of Lincoln, but it stems from the Roman highway outside the town, not from the streets inside it. Lincoln itself is as English as Cologne and Trier are German.
II. But if Roman streets have seldom survived continuously to modern days, if Roman town-planning perished with the western Empire, it has none the less profoundly influenced the towns of mediaeval and modern Europe and America. Early in the thirteenth century men began to revive, with certain modifications, the rectangular planning which Rome had used. Perhaps copying Roman originals seen in northern Italy, Frederic Stupor Mundi now built on a chess-board pattern the Terra Nova which he founded in Sicily. Now, in 1231, Barcelonette was built with twenty square 'insulae' in south-eastern France. Now, too, the 'Bastides' and 'Villes Neuves' of southern France and towns like Aigues-Mortes (1240) were built on similar plans.[122]
II. Although Roman streets have rarely survived to modern times, and Roman city planning disappeared with the fall of the western Empire, it has still significantly influenced the towns of medieval and modern Europe and America. In the early thirteenth century, people began to revive, with some changes, the rectangular layout that Rome had used. Possibly inspired by Roman designs seen in northern Italy, Frederick II, Stupor Mundi, constructed the Terra Nova in Sicily in a grid pattern. In 1231, Barcelonette was built with twenty square "insulae" in southeastern France. During this time, the "Bastides" and "Villes Neuves" of southern France, as well as towns like Aigues-Mortes (1240), were designed using similar plans.[122]
FIG. 35.
PLAN OF A BASTIDE TOWN, SAUVETERRE-DE-GUYENNE NEAR BORDEAUX (A.D. 1281)
(By Dr. A.E. Brinckmann.)
FIG. 35.
PLAN OF A BASTIDE TOWN, SAUVETERRE-DE-GUYENNE NEAR BORDEAUX (A.D. 1281)
(By Dr. A.E. Brinckmann.)
Soon after, the chess-board pattern came to England and was used in Edwardian towns like Flint[123] and Winchelsea; then, too, it was adopted at the other end of the civilized world by German soldiers in Polish lands. Cracow, for example, owes to German settlers in the mid-thirteenth century that curious chess-board pattern of its innermost and oldest streets which so much puzzles the modern visitor.[124] It is unnecessary here to follow further the renaissance of town-planning. By intervals and revivals it continued to spread. In 1652 it reached Java, when the Dutch built Batavia. In 1682 it reached America, when Penn founded Philadelphia. In 1753, when Kandahar was refounded as a new town on a new site, its Afghan builders laid out a roughly rectangular city, divided into four quarters meeting at a central Carfax and divided further into many strangely rectangular blocks of houses.[125]
Soon after, the chessboard pattern made its way to England, appearing in Edwardian towns like Flint[123] and Winchelsea. At the same time, it was also adopted by German soldiers in Polish regions. For instance, Cracow owes its unique chessboard pattern in its oldest streets to German settlers in the mid-thirteenth century, which puzzles many modern visitors.[124] There's no need to dive deeper into the revival of town planning. It continued to spread through various intervals and revivals. In 1652, it reached Java when the Dutch built Batavia. In 1682, it crossed over to America when Penn established Philadelphia. In 1753, when Kandahar was rebuilt as a new town on a new site, its Afghan builders created a roughly rectangular city divided into four quarters that met at a central Carfax, and further divided into many oddly shaped rectangular blocks of houses.[125]
But in growing, the old town-planning has passed into a new stage. The Romans dealt with small areas, seldom more than three hundred acres and often very much less. The town-plans of the Middle Ages and even of modern times affected areas that were little larger. Only the last days have brought development. Till the enormous changes of the nineteenth century—changes which have transferred the termination of ancient history from A.D. 476 to near A.D. 1800—the older fashions remained, in town-life as in most other forms of civilized society. Towns were still, with few exceptions, small and their difficulties, if real, were simple. Save in half a dozen abnormal capitals, they had, even in relatively modern days, no vast populations to be fed and made into human and orderly citizens. They had no chemical industries, no chimneys defiling the air, or drains defiling the water. Now, builders have to face the many square miles of Chicago or Buenos Ayres, to provide lungs for their cities, to fight with polluted streams and smoke. Their problems are quite unlike those of the ancients. When Cobbett, about 1800, called London the Great Wen, he contrasted in two monosyllables the ancient ideal of a city with the ugly modern facts.
But as it has grown, the old town planning has moved into a new phase. The Romans managed small areas, usually no more than three hundred acres, and often much less. The town plans from the Middle Ages and even into modern times covered areas that were similarly small. It’s only in recent times that development has taken off. Until the massive changes of the nineteenth century—changes that pushed the end of ancient history from A.D. 476 to close to A.D. 1800—the older styles persisted, both in urban life and in most other aspects of civilized society. Cities were still, with a few exceptions, small, and their challenges, if significant, were straightforward. Except for a handful of unusual capitals, even in relatively modern times, there were no large populations to feed and organize into orderly citizens. There were no chemical industries, no smokestacks polluting the air, or sewage systems contaminating the water. Now, builders must tackle the many square miles of cities like Chicago or Buenos Aires, creating fresh air for their populations and dealing with polluted rivers and smog. Their challenges are completely different from those of the ancients. When Cobbett referred to London as the Great Wen around 1800, he highlighted the contrast between the ancient ideal of a city and the grim realities of modern life.
It is not, therefore, likely that modern architects or legislators will learn many hints from plans of Timgad or of Silchester. There are lessons perhaps in the growth of Turin from its little ancient chess-board to its modern enlargement, but such developments are rare. The great benefit to modern workers of such a survey as I have attempted is that it shows the slow and painful steps by which mankind became at last able to plan towns as units, yet inhabited by individual men and women, and that it emphasizes the need for definite rules and principles. Nor is it perhaps quite superfluous to-day to point out how closely, even after the great upheaval of the nineteenth century, the forms of modern life depend on the Roman world.
It’s unlikely that today’s architects or lawmakers will take many cues from the designs of Timgad or Silchester. There may be lessons in how Turin evolved from its small ancient grid to its expansive modern layout, but such transformations are uncommon. The main advantage for today’s workers from the survey I’ve conducted is that it highlights the slow and challenging journey humanity has gone through to finally be able to design cities as cohesive units, still inhabited by individual people, and it stresses the importance of clear rules and principles. It might not be unnecessary today to point out how closely, even after the major changes of the nineteenth century, modern life relies on the foundations laid by the Roman world.
Footnotes:
References:
[1] For example, by Beloch in his volume on the cities of Campania, by Schulten in various essays, by Barthel in a recent inquiry into Roman Africa, and by others, to be cited below. Dr. J. Stübben in his Städtebau (Darmstadt, ed. 2, 1907) and Mr. Raymond Unwin in his Town planning in practice (London, 1909) have given interesting notices and illustrations of the subject for modern builders.
[1] For example, by Beloch in his book on the cities of Campania, by Schulten in various articles, by Barthel in a recent study on Roman Africa, and by others mentioned below. Dr. J. Stübben in his Städtebau (Darmstadt, 2nd ed., 1907) and Mr. Raymond Unwin in his Town Planning in Practice (London, 1909) have provided interesting insights and illustrations on the topic for contemporary builders.
[2] Compare Brinckmann's remarks on mediaeval towns: 'Der Nachdruck liegt auf den einzelnen Gebäuden, der Kathedrale, dem Palazzo publico, den festen Palästen des Adels, nicht auf ibrer einheitlichen Verbindung. Ebenso erscheint die ganze Stadt nur eine Ansammlung einzelner Bauten. Strassen und Plätze sind unbebaute Reste.'
[2] Compare Brinckmann's comments on medieval towns: 'The emphasis is on individual buildings, the cathedral, the public palace, the sturdy palaces of the nobility, rather than on their cohesive connection. Likewise, the whole city seems like just a collection of separate structures. Streets and squares are just vacant remnants.'
[3] For the connexion between such towns and their local food-supply, note the story of Alexander the Great and the architect Dinocrates told by Vitruvius (II. i). Dinocrates had planned a new town; Alexander asked if there were lands round it to supply it with corn, and on hearing there were none, at once ruled out the proposed site.
[3] For the connection between these towns and their local food supply, consider the story of Alexander the Great and the architect Dinocrates as recounted by Vitruvius (II. i). Dinocrates had designed a new town; when Alexander inquired if there was farmland nearby to provide grain, and heard that there wasn’t, he immediately rejected the proposed location.
[4] Pindar mentions 'the paved road cut straight to be smitten by horse-hoofs in processions of men that besought Apollo's care' at Cyrene (Pyth. v. 90). An inscription from the Piraeus, of 320 B.C., orders the Agoranomi (p. 37) to take care 'of the broad roads by which the processions move to the temple of Zeus the Saviour'.
[4] Pindar talks about 'the paved road cut straight to be hit by horse hooves in the processions of people seeking Apollo's protection' at Cyrene (Pyth. v. 90). An inscription from the Piraeus, dating back to 320 B.C., instructs the Agoranomi (p. 37) to take care 'of the wide roads that the processions use to reach the temple of Zeus the Savior'.
[5] Compare the crowd of Nucerians who made a riot in the amphitheatre at Pompeii in A.D. 59 (Tac. Ann. xiv. 17). The common idea that the population of a town can be calculated by the number of seats in its theatre or amphitheatre is quite amiss.
Compare the crowd of Nuceri
[6] W.F. Petrie, Illahun, Kahun, and Gurob (London, 1891), ch. ii, plate xiv. The plan is reproduced in Breasted's History of Egypt, p. 87, R. Unwin's Town planning, fig. 11 (with wrong scale), &c.
[6] W.F. Petrie, Illahun, Kahun, and Gurob (London, 1891), ch. ii, plate xiv. The plan is copied in Breasted's History of Egypt, p. 87, R. Unwin's Town planning, fig. 11 (with incorrect scale), &c.
[7] Hdt. i. 178 foil. The accounts of Ctesias and other ancient writers seem to throw no light on the town-planning and streets of Babylon, however useful they may otherwise be.
[7] Hdt. i. 178 foil. The writings of Ctesias and other ancient authors don't provide any insights into the city layout and streets of Babylon, even though they may be helpful in other ways.
[8] The Elizabethan description of Britain by William Harrison is an example from a modern time.
[8] William Harrison's description of Britain during the Elizabethan era is an example from a modern period.
[9] Hdt. i. 180 το δε αυτυ αυτο, εον πληρες οικιεων τριωοφων τε και τετρωροφων, κατατετμηται τας οδους ιθευς, τας τε αλλας και τας επικαρσιας, τας επι τον ποταμον εχουσας. Apparently επικαρσιας means, as Stein says, those at right angles to the general course of the river, but this nearly = at right angles to the other roads. The course of the river appears to have been straighter then than it is now.
[9] Hdt. i. 180 The city, being fully populated with both three-wheeled and four-wheeled vehicles, has streets that run straight, as well as other roads and those that intersect the river. Apparently, "intersecting" means, as Stein notes, those streets that are at right angles to the general flow of the river, but this is almost the same as being at right angles to the other roads. The river seems to have been straighter back then than it is now.
[10] L. Gaillard, Variétés sinologiques, xvi (plan) and xxiii. pp. 8, 235 (Chang-hai, 1898, 1903). Others give the figures a little differently, but not so as to affect the argument.
[10] L. Gaillard, Variétés sinologiques, xvi (plan) and xxiii. pp. 8, 235 (Chang-hai, 1898, 1903). Others provide the figures slightly differently, but not in a way that changes the argument.
[11] Hdt. iii. 159. The theory that there were originally two parallel outer walls, that Darius razed one and Herodotus saw the other (Baumstark in Pauly-Wissowa, Real-Encycl. ii. 2696), is meaningless. There could be no use in razing one and leaving the other, which was almost as strong (Hdt. i. 181). It is, however, not quite certain that Herodotus (i. 181) meant that there were two outer parallel walls.
[11] Hdt. iii. 159. The idea that there were originally two parallel outer walls, with Darius destroying one and Herodotus observing the other (Baumstark in Pauly-Wissowa, Real-Encycl. ii. 2696), is pointless. It wouldn’t make sense to destroy one and leave the other, which was nearly as strong (Hdt. i. 181). However, it is not entirely clear that Herodotus (i. 181) was indicating that there were two outer parallel walls.
[12] So Baumstark, art. Babylon in Pauly-Wissowa, ii. 2696.
[12] So Baumstark, art. Babylon in Pauly-Wissowa, ii. 2696.
[13] F.H. Weissbach, Stadtbild von Babylon (Der alte Orient, fasc. 5); R. Koldewey, Tempel von Babylon und Borsippa, plates i, ii; S. Langdon, Expositor, 1909, pp. 82, 142; Hommel, Geogr. des alten Orients, pp. 290, 331; E. Meyer, Sitzungsber. preuss. Akad. 1912, p. 1102. I am indebted to Dr. Langdon for references to some of the treatises cited here and below. I cannot share the unfavourable view which is taken by Messrs. How and Wells, the latest good editors of Herodotus, of the views of these writers.
[13] F.H. Weissbach, Cityscape of Babylon (The Ancient East, fasc. 5); R. Koldewey, Temple of Babylon and Borsippa, plates i, ii; S. Langdon, Expositor, 1909, pp. 82, 142; Hommel, Geography of the Ancient East, pp. 290, 331; E. Meyer, Proceedings of the Prussian Academy, 1912, p. 1102. I am grateful to Dr. Langdon for references to some of the works mentioned here and below. I cannot agree with the unfavorable opinion held by Messrs. How and Wells, the latest reputable editors of Herodotus, regarding the views of these authors.
[14] Koldewey, Pflastersteine von Aiburschabu (Leipzig, 1901). Some of the streets of Babylon are much older than 600 B.C., but this point needs to be worked out further.
[14] Koldewey, Pflastersteine von Aiburschabu (Leipzig, 1901). Some streets in Babylon are much older than 600 B.C., but this point needs to be explored further.
[15] Mitteilungen der deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft 42, Dec. 1909, pp. 7, 19; 44, Dec. 1910, p. 26.
[15] Communications from the German Orient Society 42, Dec. 1909, pp. 7, 19; 44, Dec. 1910, p. 26.
[16] Mitt, deutsch. Orient-Gesell. 28, Sept. 1905; 31, May 1906.
[16] Mitt, deutsch. Orient-Gesell. 28, Sept. 1905; 31, May 1906.
[17] F. Delitzsch, Asurbanipal und die assyr. Kultur seiner Zeit (Der alte Orient, Leipzig, 1909), p. 25.
[17] F. Delitzsch, Asurbanipal and the Assyrian Culture of His Time (The Ancient East, Leipzig, 1909), p. 25.
[18] On Hippodamus see K.F. Hermann, de Hippodamo Milesio (Marburg, 1841) and Erdmann, Philologus xlii. 193-227, and Programm Protestant. Gymnasium zu Strassburg, 1883. As will be seen, I do not accept all Erdmann's conclusions. For the Piraeus see Aristotle, Politics, II. 8 = p. 1267 and IV. 11 = p. 1330. For Thurii see Diodorus XII. 10. For Rhodes see Strabo 654 = XIV. ii. 9: E. Meyer, Gesch. des Alt. iv. pp. 60, 199 rejects the tale. For plans of the Piraeus see Wachsmuth, Stadt Athen im Alterthum, ii. 134, and Curtius and Kaupert, Karten von Attika (1881), plan IIa by Milchhöfer. Foucart has adduced epigraphic reasons for dating the work of Hippodamus here to 480-470 B.C. (Journal des Savants, 1907, pp. 178-82); they are not conclusive, but, if he be right, the difficulty of assigning the Piraeus and Rhodes to the same architect becomes even greater. The town-plan of Piraeus given by Gustav Hirschfeld (Berichte der sãchs. Ges. der Wissenschaften, 1878, xxx. I) is not convincing, nor do I feel very sure even about Milchhöfer's results.
[18] For information on Hippodamus, see K.F. Hermann, de Hippodamo Milesio (Marburg, 1841) and Erdmann, Philologus xlii. 193-227, and Programm Protestant. Gymnasium zu Strassburg, 1883. As noted, I don’t agree with all of Erdmann's conclusions. For details on the Piraeus, refer to Aristotle, Politics, II. 8 = p. 1267 and IV. 11 = p. 1330. For Thurii, see Diodorus XII. 10. For Rhodes, check Strabo 654 = XIV. ii. 9: E. Meyer, Gesch. des Alt. iv. pp. 60, 199 dismisses the story. For layouts of the Piraeus, refer to Wachsmuth, Stadt Athen im Alterthum, ii. 134, and Curtius and Kaupert, Karten von Attika (1881), plan IIa by Milchhöfer. Foucart has provided epigraphic reasons for dating Hippodamus’s work here to 480-470 B.C. (Journal des Savants, 1907, pp. 178-82); while they aren’t definitive, if he is correct, it complicates the idea of assigning both the Piraeus and Rhodes to the same architect. The town-plan of the Piraeus suggested by Gustav Hirschfeld (Berichte der sãchs. Ges. der Wissenschaften, 1878, xxx. I) is unconvincing, and I’m also not very confident about Milchhöfer's findings.
[19] Koldewey and Puchstein, Die griech. Tempel in Unteritalien und Sicilien, p. 90, plan 29, from Cavallari; Hulot and Fougères, Sélinonte, Paris, 1910, pp. 121, 168, 196. The latter writers assign the rebuilding to Hermocrates, 408-407 B.C. But our accounts of Hermocrates do not suggest that he rebuilt anything at Selinus of any sort, except defences.
[19] Koldewey and Puchstein, The Greek Temples in Southern Italy and Sicily, p. 90, plan 29, from Cavallari; Hulot and Fougères, Selinunte, Paris, 1910, pp. 121, 168, 196. The latter authors attribute the rebuilding to Hermocrates, 408-407 B.C. However, our records about Hermocrates do not indicate that he rebuilt anything in Selinus apart from defenses.
[20] Smith and Porcher, Discoveries at Cyrene (1864), plate 40; hence Studnickza, Kyrene (1890, p. 167, fig. 35), and Malten, Kyrene (Berlin, 1911). For Pindar's reference see Pyth. v. 90 and p. 16 above.
[20] Smith and Porcher, Discoveries at Cyrene (1864), plate 40; thus Studnickza, Kyrene (1890, p. 167, fig. 35), and Malten, Kyrene (Berlin, 1911). For Pindar's reference, see Pyth. v. 90 and p. 16 above.
[21] Soluntum, near Palermo, on the north coast of Sicily, was found by Cavallari in 1875 to exhibit a rectangular street-plan; one main street ran north and south along level ground and several lesser streets lay at right angles to it mounting a hillside by means of steps (as at Priene, p. 42). See the Bullettino delta Commissione di Antichità e Belle Arti in Sicilia, viii. Palermo, August 1875. Cavallari himself assigned this plan to the date when Soluntum was founded—which is unfortunately uncertain—but only on the general ground that 'in una città, una volta tracciate le strade e disposte le arterie dicommunicazione, non è facile cambiarne la disposizione generale'. I attach less weight than he does to this reason. Soluntum was in the main and by origin a Phoenician town, with a Greek colouring; in 307 B.C. it was refounded for the discharged soldiers of Agathocles; later still, in Roman times, it had the rank of 'municipium'; most of its ruins are generally considered to be of Roman date and small objects found in it are also mostly Roman, and its street-plan may also be Roman. As the 'Bullettino' is somewhat rare, I add a reduced plan (fig. 5).
[21] Soluntum, near Palermo on the northern coast of Sicily, was discovered by Cavallari in 1875 to have a rectangular street layout; one main street ran north and south along flat land, and several smaller streets intersected it at right angles, leading up a hillside via steps (similar to Priene, p. 42). See the Bullettino della Commissione di Antichità e Belle Arti in Sicilia, viii. Palermo, August 1875. Cavallari himself dated this layout to the time when Soluntum was founded—an estimate that remains uncertain—but he argued that 'in a city, once the streets are laid out and the main communication routes are established, it’s hard to change the overall arrangement.' I place less significance on that reasoning than he does. Soluntum was primarily a Phoenician town, with some Greek influence; in 307 B.C., it was reestablished for the discharged soldiers of Agathocles; later, during Roman times, it attained the status of a 'municipium'; most of its ruins are thought to be from the Roman period, and the small artifacts found there are mostly Roman as well, suggesting that its street layout might also be Roman. Since the 'Bullettino' is somewhat rare, I’ve included a simplified plan (fig. 5).
[22] Plato, Laws 763 c, 779 c, &c.; Aristotle, Ath. Pol. 50; Arist., Oec. ii. 5, p. 134; Xenophon, Ath. Pol. iii. 4; Schol. to Aeschines, iii. 24. The fact that the word 'Astynomos' occurs in Aeschylus does not justify the writer of an article in Pauly-Wissowa (Real-Encycl. ii. 1870) in stating that magistrates of this title were already at work in the earlier part of the fifth century; the poet uses the noun in a general sense from which it was afterwards specialized. Some of the regulations recur at Rome (p. 137).
[22] Plato, Laws 763 c, 779 c, &c.; Aristotle, Ath. Pol. 50; Arist., Oec. ii. 5, p. 134; Xenophon, Ath. Pol. iii. 4; Schol. to Aeschines, iii. 24. The appearance of the term 'Astynomos' in Aeschylus does not support the claim made by a contributor to Pauly-Wissowa (Real-Encycl. ii. 1870) that officials with this title were already active in the early fifth century; the poet uses the term in a broad sense before it became more defined later on. Some of the rules reappear in Rome (p. 137).
[23] Since the invention of artillery, the rectangular street-plan has been regarded by soldiers as useful in defending the streets of a town. Aristotle, however, expressly observes in the Politics that, in street warfare, tortuous lanes were far better than straight avenues for the defence, and he recommends that the rectangular pattern should be adopted only 'in parts and in places', though he does not explain how this would work out (Politics, iv. 11, p. 1330).
[23] Since the invention of artillery, soldiers have seen the rectangular layout of streets as helpful for defending a town. Aristotle, however, specifically notes in the Politics that in urban combat, winding streets are much better than straight roads for defense. He suggests that the rectangular layout should only be used 'in parts and in places', although he doesn’t explain how this would be implemented (Politics, iv. 11, p. 1330).
[25] Wiegand and Schrader, Priene, Ergebnisse der Ausgrabung in den Jahren 1895-8 (Berlin, 1904). Professor P. Gardner gave a good account to the Town-Planning Conference (Proceedings, pp. 112-122). I am indebted to him for two of my illustrations.
[25] Wiegand and Schrader, Priene, Ergebnisse der Ausgrabung in den Jahren 1895-8 (Berlin, 1904). Professor P. Gardner provided a great summary at the Town-Planning Conference (Proceedings, pp. 112-122). I am grateful to him for two of my illustrations.
[26] Wiegand, Abhandlungen der Berliner Akademie, 1911, Anhang; Archäol. Anzeiger, 1911, 420 foll.
[26] Wiegand, Proceedings of the Berlin Academy, 1911, Appendix; Archaeological Bulletin, 1911, 420 and following.
[27] Strabo, xvii. 793.
Strabo, xvii. 793.
[28] Mahmud Bey, Mémoire sur l'ancienne Alexandrie (Copenhagen, 1872); Néroutsos Bey, L'ancienne Alexandrie (Paris, 1888).
[28] Mahmud Bey, Memoir on Ancient Alexandria (Copenhagen, 1872); Néroutsos Bey, Ancient Alexandria (Paris, 1888).
[29] D.G. Hogarth, Archaeological Report of the Egypt Exploration Fund, 1894-5, p. 28, and Hellenic Journal, xix. 326; F. Noack, Athen. Mitteil. xxv. (1900), pp. 232, 237. Dr. Noack thought that his results confirmed Mahmud; to me, as to some others, they seem rather to yield the conclusions indicated in the text.
[29] D.G. Hogarth, Archaeological Report of the Egypt Exploration Fund, 1894-5, p. 28, and Hellenic Journal, xix. 326; F. Noack, Athen. Mitteil. xxv. (1900), pp. 232, 237. Dr. Noack believed that his findings supported Mahmud; however, to me, and some others, they appear to suggest the conclusions mentioned in the text.
[30] Strabo, 565, 566.
Strabo, 565, 566.
[31] Diodorus Sic. xx. 102; Expédition scientifique de Morée, archit. et sculpture, iii (1838), plate LXXXI.
[31] Diodorus Sic. xx. 102; Scientific Expedition of Morea, Architecture and Sculpture, iii (1838), plate LXXXI.
[32] Dicaearchus, p. 143.
Dicaearchus, p. 143.
[33] Strabo, 646.
Strabo, 646.
[35] Tafrali, Topographie de Thess. pp. 121 foll. and plan.
[35] Tafrali, Topographie de Thess. pp. 121 and following, and plan.
[36] E. Sachau, Reise in Syrien (1883), p. 76; Mommsen, Ephemeris epigr. iv, p. 514, and Mon. Ancyr. (ed. 2), p. 540.
[36] E. Sachau, Reise in Syrien (1883), p. 76; Mommsen, Ephemeris epigr. iv, p. 514, and Mon. Ancyr. (ed. 2), p. 540.
[37] Zeitschrift des deutschen Palãstina-Vereins, xxv (1902), plate 6; Bãdeker, Palestine and Syria (1906), p. 140. For the neighbouring Bostra, see p. 136.
[37] Journal of the German Palestine Society, xxv (1902), plate 6; Bädeker, Palestine and Syria (1906), p. 140. For the nearby Bostra, see p. 136.
[38] Ephesus, refounded by Lysimachus about 281 B.C., might perhaps be another. But the repeated excavations there, though they have taught us much about the temples and other large edifices of the great city, seem to have left the streets comparatively unexplored.
[38] Ephesus, reestablished by Lysimachus around 281 B.C., could be another example. However, the numerous excavations conducted there, while they have provided us with a lot of information about the temples and other significant buildings of the great city, appear to have left the streets relatively unexamined.
[39] P. Schatzmann, Athen. Mitteil. xxxv. (1910) 385; Archãol. Anzeiger (1910), p. 541. This lowest city is covered by a swarm of modern houses and hovels, and has not been very fully explored.
[39] P. Schatzmann, Athen. Mitteil. xxxv. (1910) 385; Archãol. Anzeiger (1910), p. 541. This lowest part of the city is filled with a mix of modern houses and shacks, and hasn't been thoroughly explored.
[40] Kolbe, Athen. Mitteil. xxvii. 47 and xxix. 75; Hitzig, Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung, roman. Abteilung xxvi. 433.
[40] Kolbe, Athen. Mitteil. xxvii. 47 and xxix. 75; Hitzig, Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung, roman. Abteilung xxvi. 433.
[41] Revelation xxi. 13, 16. Some of the details are, no doubt, drawn from the later chapters of Ezekiel, but the difference between the two writers is plain.
[41] Revelation xxi. 13, 16. Some of the details are likely taken from the later chapters of Ezekiel, but the difference between the two writers is clear.
[42] See p. 145 below.
See p. 145 below.
[43] The literature of the Terremare is very large. The results obtained up to 1894 were summarized by F. von Duhn in the Neue Heidelberger Jahrbücher, iv. 144; the best recent accounts are by T.E. Peet, Stone and Bronze Ages in Italy (Oxford, 1909), chaps. 14 and 17, from which fig. 11 is taken, and R. Munro, Palaeolithic Man and Terramara Settlements (Edin., 1912), pp. 291-487 and plates xxxiii foll. A good brief sketch is given by Mr. H.S. Jones, Companion to Roman History, pp. 4-6. One point in the arrangement seems not quite clear. It is generally stated that the trapezoidal outline was adopted in order to allow the water to enter the ditch from a running stream and to part easily into two channels (fig. 11). That is quite intelligible. But, if so, one would expect the outlet to be at the opposite end, and not (as it actually is) in the middle of one side, where it would 'short-circuit' the current. (Mr. H.S. Jones seems to have confused inlet and outlet.)
[43] The literature on the Terremare is extensive. The findings up to 1894 were summarized by F. von Duhn in the Neue Heidelberger Jahrbücher, iv. 144; the best recent accounts are by T.E. Peet, Stone and Bronze Ages in Italy (Oxford, 1909), chapters 14 and 17, from which figure 11 is taken, and R. Munro, Palaeolithic Man and Terramara Settlements (Edinburgh, 1912), pages 291-487 and plates xxxiii and following. A good brief overview is provided by Mr. H.S. Jones in Companion to Roman History, pages 4-6. One aspect of the layout seems unclear. It's generally said that the trapezoidal shape was chosen to allow water to flow into the ditch from a stream and divide easily into two channels (figure 11). That makes sense. However, if that’s the case, one would expect the outlet to be at the opposite end, rather than (as it actually is) in the middle of one side, where it would create a shortcut for the current. (Mr. H.S. Jones seems to have mixed up the inlet and outlet.)
[45] Brizio, Monumenti Antichi, i. 252, superseding Gozzadini's Antica Necropoli a Marzabotto (Bologna, 1865-70); Grenier, Bologne villanovienne &c. (Paris, 1912) p. 98. Compare Authority and Archaeology, pp. 305, 306.
[45] Brizio, Ancient Monuments, i. 252, replacing Gozzadini's Ancient Necropolis at Marzabotto (Bologna, 1865-70); Grenier, Villanovan Bologna &c. (Paris, 1912) p. 98. See Authority and Archaeology, pp. 305, 306.
[46] Notizie degli Scavi 1895, p. 272; Durm, Baukunst der Etr. p. 39.
[46] News from the Excavations 1895, p. 272; Durm, Architecture of the Etruscans , p. 39.
[47] For recent plans of Pompeii the reader may consult the second edition (1908) of August Mau's Pompeii, or the fifth edition (1910) of his Führer durch Pompeii, re-edited by W. Barthel. A plan on a large scale is given in the last part of CIL. iv (1909); there are also occasional plans in the Notizie degli Scavi. See also C. Weichardt, Pompeji vor der Zerstorung (Leipzig, 1897).
[47] For recent maps of Pompeii, readers can check out the second edition (1908) of August Mau's Pompeii, or the fifth edition (1910) of his Führer durch Pompeii, revised by W. Barthel. A large-scale map can be found in the last part of CIL. iv (1909); there are also occasional maps in the Notizie degli Scavi. Additionally, see C. Weichardt's Pompeji vor der Zerstorung (Leipzig, 1897).
[48] Mau, Führer (1910), p. 5, 'um die Schiefwinkeligkeit zu vermindern.' Truly, a very inadequate reason.
[48] Mau, Führer (1910), p. 5, 'to reduce the obliqueness.' Honestly, that's a pretty weak reason.
[49] Region VI contains an ancient column of the sixth century B.C. (Mau, Führer, p. 113), but this may not be in situ.
[49] Region VI has an ancient column from the sixth century B.C. (Mau, Führer, p. 113), but it might not be in situ.
[50] Livy ii. 34, contradicted, however, by xxvii. 10 and by Dionysius Halic. vii. 13 ad fin.
[50] Livy ii. 34, contradicted, however, by xxvii. 10 and by Dionysius Halic. vii. 13 ad fin.
[51] Notizie degli Scavi, 191, p. 558, 1903, p. 261; Frothingham, Roman Cities, plate ix. I am indebted to Dr. T. Ashby, Director of the British School at Rome, for information as to the site. Excavations made in 1823 at the Roman Falerii (founded 241 B.C.) show streets crossing at right angles, but the piece unearthed was small and the date uncertain (Canina, Etruria Maritima i, plate ix).
[51] Notizie degli Scavi, 191, p. 558, 1903, p. 261; Frothingham, Roman Cities, plate ix. I want to thank Dr. T. Ashby, the Director of the British School at Rome, for the information about the site. Excavations conducted in 1823 at the Roman Falerii (founded in 241 B.C.) revealed streets crossing at right angles, but the area uncovered was small and the dating is uncertain (Canina, Etruria Maritima i, plate ix).
[52] Fig. 14 is taken from Zuccagni-Orlandini (1844). Kornemann suggests that Mutina was refounded about 40-20 B.C., but there seems to be no evidence of this break in its continuity.
[52] Fig. 14 is taken from Zuccagni-Orlandini (1844). Kornemann suggests that Mutina was refounded around 40-20 B.C., but there doesn't seem to be any evidence of this disruption in its continuity.
[53] The prologue to the Poenulus of Plautus (verse 49) which mentions 'limites' and a 'finitor', may well be as old as Plautus himself. But the 'centuriation' still visible in north Italy around colonies planted about 180 B.C. is no full proof of rectangular surveying at that date. These towns were re-founded at a much later date, and their lands, and even their streets, may have been laid out anew.
[53] The prologue to the Poenulus of Plautus (verse 49) that mentions 'limites' and a 'finitor' could be as old as Plautus himself. However, the 'centuriation' still visible in northern Italy around colonies established around 180 B.C. isn’t solid evidence of rectangular surveying from that time. These towns were re-established much later, and their lands, and even their streets, may have been redone.
[54] Varro ling. lat. 5. 143 oppida condebant Etrusco ritu, id est, iunctis bobus, cf. Frontinus de limit. (grom. i. p. 27).
[54] Varro ling. lat. 5. 143 they founded towns in the Etruscan way, that is, with oxen yoked together, cf. Frontinus de limit. (grom. i. p. 27).
[55] Whether the possessores ex vico Lucretio scamno primo of Cologne (Corpus XIII. 8254) had their property inside the 'colonia' of that place or in the country outside, may be doubted (Schulten, Bonner Jahrb. ciii. 28).
[55] It's uncertain whether the possessores ex vico Lucretio scamno primo of Cologne (Corpus XIII. 8254) owned their property within the 'colonia' of that location or in the surrounding countryside (Schulten, Bonner Jahrb. ciii. 28).
[56] The phrase Roma Quadrata ought, perhaps, to be mentioned in this chapter. It does not seem, however, to be demonstrably older than the Ciceronian age. The line et qui sextus erat Romae regnare quadratae, once attributed to Ennius (ed. Vablen, 1854, 158), is clearly of much later date. As a piece of historical evidence, the phrase merely sums up some archaeologist's theory (very likely a correct theory, but still a theory) that the earliest Rome on the Palatine had a more or less rectangular outline.
[56] The term Roma Quadrata should probably be mentioned in this chapter. However, it doesn’t seem to be definitely older than the time of Cicero. The line et qui sextus erat Romae regnare quadratae, once thought to be by Ennius (ed. Vablen, 1854, 158), is clearly from a much later period. As historical evidence, the phrase simply reflects an archaeologist's theory (likely a correct one, but still just a theory) that the earliest Rome on the Palatine had a roughly rectangular shape.
[57] See Mommsen, Gesamm. Schriften v. 203; Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde ii. 27; Kornemann in Pauly-Wissowa, Encycl. iv. 520 foll.
[57] See Mommsen, Gesamm. Schriften v. 203; Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde ii. 27; Kornemann in Pauly-Wissowa, Encycl. iv. 520 foll.
[58] Modern plans seem sometimes to imply that the 'insulae' which abutted on the walls were also abnormally large. That is because the corresponding modern blocks often include, with the original 'insula', the space between it and the wall, and also the wall itself which has been disused and built over.
[58] Modern plans sometimes suggest that the 'insulae' adjacent to the walls were unusually large. This is because the modern blocks often include, along with the original 'insula', the space between it and the wall, as well as the wall itself, which has become unused and has been built over.
[59] See on this point some remarks by W. Barthel, Bonner Jahrbücher, cxx. 101-108.
[59] Check out some comments by W. Barthel on this topic in Bonner Jahrbücher, cxx. 101-108.
[60] In western Europe the provincial Roman amphitheatre averaged 45 x 70 yds. for its arena.
[60] In western Europe, the typical provincial Roman amphitheater had an arena size of about 45 by 70 yards.
[61] For Florence and Turin see below; for Piacenza, the plans on the scale of 1:1000 and 1:5000 in L. Buroni's Acque potabili di Piacenza (1895).
[61] For Florence and Turin, see below; for Piacenza, refer to the plans at scales 1:1000 and 1:5000 in L. Buroni's Acque potabili di Piacenza (1895).
[62] Silchester and Timgad are the only two sites which have been planned well enough to provide accurate measurements. The large modern town-plans (e.g. of Turin, p. 86) are useful, but inadequate to our purpose; for one thing, they often exaggerate the width of the streets. One really needs actual measurements made on the spot.
[62] Silchester and Timgad are the only two sites that have been well-planned enough to give precise measurements. The large modern town plans (e.g. of Turin, p. 86) are helpful, but they fall short for our needs; for one, they often overstate the width of the streets. What we really need are actual measurements taken on-site.
[63] Schulten, Bonner Jahrbücher, ciii. 23, and references given there.
[63] Schulten, Bonner Jahrbücher, ciii. 23, and references given there.
[65] Perhaps about 180 B.C., Mommsen, Roman Hist. iii. 206.
[65] Maybe around 180 B.C., Mommsen, Roman Hist. iii. 206.
[66] Aquileia was set up in 181 B.C. to guard the north-east gate of Italy, and was reinforced in 169. Its remains, so far as excavated, show a rectangular plan of oblong 'insulae'—some of 1½ acres (74 by 94 yards), some larger—while, till its downfall, about A.D. 450, we hear no word of refoundation or wholesale rebuilding. But if its original area be the space of 70 acres which is usually assigned, that is not rectangular but a square somewhat askew, which fits very badly with the rectangular street-plan, and one would incline to ascribe the latter to a later date. See Maionica, Fundkarte von Aquileia.
[66] Aquileia was established in 181 B.C. to protect the northeast entrance of Italy, and it was strengthened in 169. The remains that have been excavated reveal a rectangular layout of elongated 'insulae'—some measuring 1½ acres (74 by 94 yards), and others larger—while, until its fall around A.D. 450, there are no mentions of a major rebuilding or restoration. However, if we consider its original area to be the 70 acres usually mentioned, that area is not rectangular but a square that is slightly angled, which doesn’t align well with the rectangular street layout, suggesting that the latter is likely from a later period. See Maionica, Fundkarte von Aquileia.
[67] The traces of prehistoric planning detected by some writers in Rome are very dubious.
[67] The signs of ancient planning identified by some authors in Rome are quite questionable.
[68] See the seventeenth century Atlases of Blaeu, Janssons, and others, the modern maps prepared by Grassellini and others about 1840-50 (some on the scale 1:4,000), and in particular the Atlante geografico of Attilio Zuccagni-Orlandini (Firenze, 1844), and the recent town-maps of various Italian cities (mostly about 1:10,500). Different maps of the same town sometimes differ much in their detail. The Italian Government maps of the largest scale (1:25,000) are small for our present purpose and have been issued mainly for northern Italy.
[68] Check out the 17th-century atlases by Blaeu, Jansson, and others, the modern maps created by Grassellini and others around 1840-50 (some at a scale of 1:4,000), and especially the Atlante geografico by Attilio Zuccagni-Orlandini (Florence, 1844), along with the recent city maps of various Italian towns (mostly around 1:10,500). Different maps of the same town can vary significantly in detail. The Italian government maps at the largest scale (1:25,000) are too small for our current needs and have mainly been published for northern Italy.
[69] Milan (Mediolanium), once the chief Roman town of north Italy, is usually stated to preserve to-day no trace of Roman street-planning. But the line of the Via Manzoni, Via Margherita, and Via Nerino (cutting the Ambrosian Library) seems really to represent one of its main streets, and the line of the Fulcorino and Corso di Porta Romana the other, while one or two traces of 'insulae' can be detected near the Ambrosian Library. The town was destroyed in A.D. 539 and again in 1162, and more survivals cannot be expected.
[69] Milan (Mediolanium), once the main Roman city in northern Italy, is often said to have no remnants of Roman street planning today. However, the layout of Via Manzoni, Via Margherita, and Via Nerino (which cuts through the Ambrosian Library) appears to align with one of its major streets, while the routes of Fulcorino and Corso di Porta Romana represent another. Additionally, a couple of remnants of 'insulae' can be found near the Ambrosian Library. The city was destroyed in A.D. 539 and again in 1162, so not many remains can be expected.
[71] Carlo Promis, Storia dell' antico Torino (Torino, 1869); Alfredo d'Andrade, Relazione dell' ufficio regionale per la conservazione dei monumenti del Piemonte, 1883-91 (Torino, 1899); Schultze, Bonner Jahrbücher, cxviii. 339; Barthel, ibid. cxx. 105; Pianta di Torino (1-10,000), by G.B. Paravia.
[71] Carlo Promis, History of Ancient Turin (Turin, 1869); Alfredo d'Andrade, Report of the Regional Office for the Preservation of Monuments in Piedmont, 1883-91 (Turin, 1899); Schultze, Bonner Yearbooks, cxviii. 339; Barthel, ibid. cxx. 105; Map of Turin (1-10,000), by G.B. Paravia.
[72] I take these figures from the plan of Paravia, which is said to be the most correct plan of Turin at present available. Promis gives smaller dimensions, 720 x 670 m., and he measured from what is now known to be a point too far to the east (the Via Accademia delle Scienze) instead of from the west front of the Palazzo Madama; he has, however, been usually followed. Other maps give other dimensions, Orlandini (1844), 758 x 780 m.; Vallardi (1869), 680 x 740 m.; Maggi (1876), 730 x 800 m.; Ashby (Art. 'Turin' in Encycl. Britannica) gives 2,526 x 2,330 ft. which must be too large. I reproduce here (fig. 15) the plan of Orlandini, since it shows well the extent of street-survivals in Turin before the great modern rebuildings or expansions.
[72] I take these measurements from Paravia's map, which is considered the most accurate map of Turin currently available. Promis provides smaller figures, 720 x 670 m., and he measured from what is now identified as a point too far east (the Via Accademia delle Scienze) instead of from the west side of the Palazzo Madama; however, he is often referenced. Other maps provide different measurements: Orlandini (1844), 758 x 780 m.; Vallardi (1869), 680 x 740 m.; Maggi (1876), 730 x 800 m.; Ashby (in the article 'Turin' from Encycl. Britannica) gives 2,526 x 2,330 ft., which seems too large. I include here (fig. 15) Orlandini's map, as it clearly shows the extent of the streets that have survived in Turin before the major modern renovations or expansions.
[73] d'Andrade, Relazione, pp. 8-20; Notizie degli Scavi, 1885, pp. 173, 271, and 1902, p. 277.
[73] d'Andrade, Relazione, pp. 8-20; Notizie degli Scavi, 1885, pp. 173, 271, and 1902, p. 277.
[75] An insula is mentioned in Notizie, 1901, p. 391, which measured 74 x 80 metres. It is likely that there were small unevennesses in the ancient as there are in the modern house-blocks. The 'insulae' which abutted on the town-walls are represented to-day by unduly large blocks, oblong rather than square, but these latter contain not only the areas of the Roman 'insulae' in question, but also the space between them and the town-walls and the lines of the wall themselves (p. 77).
[75] An insula is mentioned in Notizie, 1901, p. 391, which measured 74 x 80 meters. It's likely that there were small unevennesses in ancient times just like there are in modern housing blocks. The 'insulae' that were adjacent to the town walls are represented today by overly large blocks, which are rectangular rather than square. However, these blocks include not only the areas of the Roman 'insulae' in question, but also the space between them and the town walls, as well as the lines of the wall themselves (p. 77).
[76] This failure in symmetry recurs in one or two other Roman towns as probably at Timgad (p. 109) and at Cologne (E. and W. gates), at Silchester and Caerwent, but it may sometimes be the result of alteration. Occasionally it appears in military sites (Ritterling, Lager bei Hofheim, p. 29 note). It is presumably a mere matter of convenience; no superstition attaches to it such as that which led the Chinese not to put their gates opposite each other (p. 148).
[76] This lack of symmetry shows up in a few other Roman towns, likely at Timgad (p. 109) and at Cologne (E. and W. gates), in Silchester and Caerwent, but it might sometimes result from changes made over time. It occasionally happens in military sites (Ritterling, Lager bei Hofheim, p. 29 note). It seems to be just a matter of convenience; there’s no superstition behind it like the belief that led the Chinese to avoid placing their gates directly across from each other (p. 148).
[77] C. Promis, Antichità di Aosta (Torino, 1862), with plan, plate 3, dating from 1838; Notizie degli Scavi, 1899, p. 108, with a later plan, but lacking a scale; Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 171.
[77] C. Promis, Antichità di Aosta (Turin, 1862), with plan, plate 3, dating from 1838; Notizie degli Scavi, 1899, p. 108, with a later plan, but missing a scale; Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 171.
[79] Promis, p. 140; his plan has no proper scale. There seems no decisive evidence and the modern streets of Aosta do not help us.
[79] Promis, p. 140; his plan lacks a proper scale. There doesn't appear to be any conclusive evidence, and the contemporary streets of Aosta don’t provide any assistance.
[80] The town of Concordia in north-east Italy, where Augustus planted a 'colonia', doubtless of discharged soldiers, is said to have possessed a ground-plan of oblong blocks very like that of Augusta Praetoria. But this plan rests mainly on the authority of a workman who apparently did not know how to read or write (he is described as 'analfabeta') and I therefore omit it here. See Notizie degli Scavi, 1880, p. 412, and Plate XII (the text gives no dimensions and the plan lacks a scale), and compare 1882, p. 426, and 1894, p. 399.
[80] The town of Concordia in northeast Italy, where Augustus established a settlement, likely for retired soldiers, is said to have had a layout of rectangular blocks similar to that of Augusta Praetoria. However, this information largely comes from a laborer who apparently couldn’t read or write (he is described as 'analfabeta'), so I'm leaving it out here. See Notizie degli Scavi, 1880, p. 412, and Plate XII (the text provides no measurements and the plan lacks a scale), and compare 1882, p. 426, and 1894, p. 399.
[81] On Roman and early mediaeval Florence see Villani, Cronica (written about 1345, published 1845), i. 61, 89, 120; R. Davidsohn, Geschichte von Florenz and Forschungen (Berlin, 1886); L.A. Milani, Notizie degli Scavi, 1887, p. 129; plan of the Centro in 1427 by Comm. Guido Carocci, Studi storici sul Centro di Firenze (Florence, 1889); Monumenti antichi, vi. 15. Nissen (Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 296) fixes its area at 400 x 600 m., about 58 acres.
[81] For information on Roman and early medieval Florence, see Villani, Cronica (written around 1345, published in 1845), i. 61, 89, 120; R. Davidsohn, Geschichte von Florenz and Forschungen (Berlin, 1886); L.A. Milani, Notizie degli Scavi, 1887, p. 129; the plan of the Centro in 1427 by Comm. Guido Carocci, Studi storici sul Centro di Firenze (Florence, 1889); Monumenti antichi, vi. 15. Nissen (Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 296) estimates its area at 400 x 600 m., which is about 58 acres.
[82] Plan by P. Sinibaldi, 1843, 1:4,000. Notizie degli Scavi, 1906, p. 117, &c. Nissen (Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 288) gives the area as 800 x 1,200 metres, which seems much too large.
[82] Plan by P. Sinibaldi, 1843, 1:4,000. Notizie degli Scavi, 1906, p. 117, &c. Nissen (Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 288) states the area as 800 x 1,200 meters, which seems way too big.
[83] M. Ruggiero, Scavi di Ercolano (Naples, 1885), plates ii and xii; Beloch. Campanien, pp. 215 foll.; Nissen, Ital. Landeskunde, ii. 759; Waldstein and Shoobridge, Herculaneum (London, 1908), pp. 60 foil.; E.R. Barker, Buried Herculaneum (1908); Gall in Pauly-Wissowa, viii. (1912) 532-48.
[83] M. Ruggiero, Excavations of Herculaneum (Naples, 1885), plates ii and xii; Beloch. Campania, pp. 215 and following; Nissen, Italian Geography, ii. 759; Waldstein and Shoobridge, Herculaneum (London, 1908), pp. 60 and following; E.R. Barker, Buried Herculaneum (1908); Gall in Pauly-Wissowa, viii. (1912) 532-48.
[84] CIL. x. 1425; compare Dessau, 896. It is, no doubt, possible that this Nonius Balbus is the M. Nonius ... who built something in honour of Titus in A.D. 72, but the identification is not likely.
[84] CIL. x. 1425; compare Dessau, 896. It's certainly possible that this Nonius Balbus is the M. Nonius ... who constructed something in honor of Titus in A.D. 72, but the connection is unlikely.
[85] Beloch, Campanien (Berlin, 1879), p. 26; Capasso, Napoli Greco-Romana (Napoli, 1905). The Forum, Market, and some other buildings marked by Capasso seem to me (and even to him or his editors) very dubious (p. 63). Two theatres (p. 82) and a Temple of the Dioscuri are better established. For plans see Piante topogr. dei quartieri di Napoli 1861-5 (1:3,888) and Pianta della città di N. (Off. della Guerra, 1865), from which latter fig. 20 is adapted.
[85] Beloch, Campania (Berlin, 1879), p. 26; Capasso, Napoli Greco-Romana (Naples, 1905). The Forum, Market, and some other structures noted by Capasso seem very questionable to me (and even to him or his editors) (p. 63). Two theaters (p. 82) and a Temple of the Dioscuri are more reliable. For plans, see Piante topogr. dei quartieri di Napoli 1861-5 (1:3,888) and Pianta della città di N. (Off. della Guerra, 1865), from which the latter has fig. 20 adapted.
[86] The limits are the Castel Capuano on the east, the Strada dell' Orticello on the north, the church of S. Pietro a Majella on the west, and on the south the churches of S. Marcellino and S. Severino.
[86] The boundaries are Castel Capuano to the east, Strada dell'Orticello to the north, S. Pietro a Majella church to the west, and to the south, the churches of S. Marcellino and S. Severino.
[87] For Orange see p. 107. Nîmes may possibly retain one or two streets of the Roman Nemausus, but it is very doubtful; see Menard's map of 1752. See further in general p. 142.
[87] For Orange see p. 107. Nîmes might still have one or two streets from the Roman Nemausus, but it's highly uncertain; check Menard's map from 1752. See more generally on p. 142.
[88] Though, curiously enough, the chess-board pattern of field divisions has survived in the neighbourhood of Carthage.
[88] Interestingly, the chessboard pattern of field divisions is still seen in the area around Carthage.
[89] Archives nouvelles des Missions scientifiques, xv. 1907, fasc. 4.
[89] New Archives of Scientific Missions, xv. 1907, fasc. 4.
[90] Plan by Joly, Arch. Anzeiger, 1911, p. 270, fig. 17. The plan has been thought to imply 'insulae' twice as large as those of Timgad. To me it suggests nothing so regular.
[90] Plan by Joly, Arch. Anzeiger, 1911, p. 270, fig. 17. The plan seems to suggest 'insulae' that are twice the size of those in Timgad. However, to me, it doesn't imply anything so systematic.
[91] Toutain, Cités romaines de la Tunisie, p. 79 note: 'Ce qui toutefois est incontestable, c'est que cette disposition d'une régularité artificielle, autour de deux grandes voies exactement orientées et se coupant a angle droit, est très rare dans l'Afrique romaine. Les villes de ce pays n'out pas été toutes construites sur le mème plan: chacune d'elles a, pour ainsi dire, épousé la forme de son emplacement.'
[91] Toutain, Cités romaines de la Tunisie, p. 79 note: 'What is undeniable, though, is that this design with an artificial regularity, centered around two main roads perfectly aligned and intersecting at right angles, is very rare in Roman Africa. The cities in this region were not all built on the same plan: each of them has, in a way, adapted to the shape of its location.'
[92] There are many in which it could be traced with some ease, apparently. Thelepte, Cillium, Ammaedara, Sufetula, Archives des Missions, 1887, pp. 68, 121, 161-171, Simitthu, Mémoires présentés par divers savants, ser. I. x. 462, and Thuccabor, Tissot, Géogr. d'Afrique, ii. 292, seem to have visible streets, but no one has recorded them exactly. The plan of Utica, given by Tissot (Atlas, by Reinach, plate vi) on the authority of Daux, is open to doubt.
[92] There are many places where this could apparently be traced with some ease. Thelepte, Cillium, Ammaedara, Sufetula, Archives des Missions, 1887, pp. 68, 121, 161-171, Simitthu, Mémoires présentés par divers savants, ser. I. x. 462, and Thuccabor, Tissot, Géogr. d'Afrique, ii. 292, seem to have visible streets, but no one has recorded them exactly. The plan of Utica, provided by Tissot (Atlas, by Reinach, plate vi) on the authority of Daux, is questionable.
[93] For the inscription see Esperandieu, Acad. des Inscriptions, Comptes rendus, 1904, p. 497; Cagnat, Année Épigr., 1905, 12; and especially Schulten, Hermes, 1906, 1; a convenient English account is given by H.S. Jones, Companion to Roman Hist., p. 22. It has been suggested by Schulten that the blocks were at first divided into plots of 35 ft. frontage, and that the boundaries had become changed in the ordinary course of things before the survey was made. But this seems to carry conjecture rather far.
[93] For the inscription, see Esperandieu, Acad. des Inscriptions, Comptes rendus, 1904, p. 497; Cagnat, Année Épigr., 1905, 12; and especially Schulten, Hermes, 1906, 1; a convenient English account is provided by H.S. Jones, Companion to Roman Hist., p. 22. Schulten suggested that the blocks were initially divided into plots with a 35 ft. frontage and that the boundaries had changed over time before the survey was conducted. However, this seems to stretch speculation a bit too far.
[94] It has been said to show marks of streets laid out rectangularly, but neither the look of the town itself nor the plans of it seem to me to confirm this idea; compare Lentheric, Le Rhone, ii. 110.
[94] People say that the streets are laid out in a grid pattern, but the town itself and its plans don't seem to support that idea; see Lentheric, Le Rhone, ii. 110.
[95] Ballu detects a 'quartier industriel' in the outer town, but the evidence does not seem to warrant so grand a term.
[95] Ballu notices an 'industrial area' on the outskirts of town, but the evidence doesn’t seem to justify such an ambitious label.
[96] Boeswillwald, Cagnat and Ballu, Timgad (Paris, 1891-1905); see especially Appendix, pp. 339-349; Ballu, Ruines de Timgad (Paris, 1897-1911); Barthel, Bonner Jahrbücher, cxx. 101.
[96] Boeswillwald, Cagnat and Ballu, Timgad (Paris, 1891-1905); see especially Appendix, pp. 339-349; Ballu, Ruines de Timgad (Paris, 1897-1911); Barthel, Bonner Jahrbücher, cxx. 101.
[97] Totius orbis descriptio, 61 (Müller, geogr. graeci min. ii. 527); dispositione gloriosissima constat ... in directione vicorum et platearum aequalibus lineis currens' (written probably about A.D. 350).
[97] Description of the Entire World, 61 (Müller, Greek Geography of Minor Authors ii. 527); it consists of a glorious arrangement ... running in equal lines in the direction of streets and roads' (written probably around A.D. 350).
[98] Carte archéologique et topogr. des Ruines de Carthage, by Gauckler and Delattre (1:5,000); Schulten, Archäol. Anzeiger, 1905, p. 77; 1909, p. 190; 1911, p. 246; Audollent, Carthage romaine (Paris, 1901), pp. 309, 846. The older accounts of Daux and Tissot seem less trustworthy.
[98] Archaeological Map and Topography of the Ruins of Carthage, by Gauckler and Delattre (1:5,000); Schulten, Archaeological News, 1905, p. 77; 1909, p. 190; 1911, p. 246; Audollent, Roman Carthage (Paris, 1901), pp. 309, 846. The earlier accounts by Daux and Tissot appear to be less reliable.
[99] Correspondenzblatt des Gesamtvereins der deutschen Geschichts und Altertumsvereine, April 1912; Bericht vi der römisch-germanischen Kommission 1910-11, p. 96. Müllner's Emona (Laibach, 1879), p. 19, plate 2, is wholly inadequate.
[99] Correspondence Journal of the Association of German History and Antiquity Societies, April 1912; Report of the Roman-Germanic Commission 1910-11, p. 96. Müllner's Emona (Ljubljana, 1879), p. 19, plate 2, is completely insufficient.
[100] Abhandlungen der k. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, phil.-hist. Kl., viii. (1905), p. 61, plan 2; the evidence seems adequate though not wholly decisive. The Roman town Emporiae, now Ampurias, in the extreme north-east of Spain, seems to have had a rectangular street-plan, though its Greek predecessor was irregular, Institut d'estudis catalans, anuari 1908, p. 185.
[100] Abhandlungen der k. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, phil.-hist. Kl., viii. (1905), p. 61, plan 2; the evidence seems sufficient though not completely conclusive. The Roman town of Emporiae, now Ampurias, located in the far northeast of Spain, appears to have had a rectangular street layout, while its Greek predecessor was irregular, Institut d'estudis catalans, anuari 1908, p. 185.
[101] Archaeologia, liii. 236 and lvi. 371. The plan given by Mr. Fox in liii. 236 represents his own theory, which may be open to doubt.
[101] Archaeologia, liii. 236 and lvi. 371. The plan provided by Mr. Fox in liii. 236 reflects his own theory, which might be questionable.
[102] J.W. Grover, Brit. Archaeol. Assoc. Journal, xxvi. (1870), p. 45, plate 1. The theories of the late Mr. Bellows about the streets of Roman and modern Gloucester were equally astray, though in other ways.
[102] J.W. Grover, Brit. Archaeol. Assoc. Journal, xxvi. (1870), p. 45, plate 1. The late Mr. Bellows' theories about the streets of Roman and modern Gloucester were just as misguided, but in different ways.
[103] Hirschfeld, Haeduer und Arverner (Sitzungsber. der preuss. Akademie, 1897, p. 1102). Similar hybrid names have been created by the English in India, mostly on the North-west Frontier, where alone they have planted new inhabited sites—Lyallpur, Abbotabad, Edwardesabad, Robertsganj, and the like. But these are almost all small places or forts, and their names represent no policy of Anglicization.
[103] Hirschfeld, Haeduer und Arverner (Sitzungsber. der preuss. Akademie, 1897, p. 1102). Similar mixed names have been created by the English in India, mainly on the North-west Frontier, where they have established new populated areas—Lyallpur, Abbotabad, Edwardesabad, Robertsganj, and so on. However, these are mostly small towns or forts, and their names reflect no deliberate effort at Anglicization.
[104] H. de Fontenay, Autun et ses monuments (Autun, 1889), pp. 49 foll. and map (1:6,250). The existence of a town-plan was first noticed by J. de Fontenay, Bulletin monumental, 1852, p. 365, but his map appears to be incorrect and his views generally are based too much on a priori assumptions.
[104] H. de Fontenay, Autun et ses monuments (Autun, 1889), pp. 49 foll. and map (1:6,250). The existence of a town plan was first noted by J. de Fontenay in the Bulletin monumental, 1852, p. 365, but his map seems to be inaccurate, and his opinions are generally too reliant on a priori assumptions.
[105] Ademeit, Siedelungsgeographie des Moselgebiets, pp. 367, 431.
[105] Ademeit, Siedelungsgeographie des Moselgebiets, pp. 367, 431.
[106] H. Gräven, Stadtplan des römischen Triers in Die Denkmalpflege, 14 Dec. 1904 (1:10,000); the plan has been often copied, as by Cramer, Das röm. Trier (Gütersloh, 1911), and Von Behr, Trierer Jahresberichte, i. 1908. Compare Barthel, Bonner Jahrbücher, cxx. 106. Trier at some time or other became a 'colonia'. When this occurred, is hotly disputed; the evidence seems to me to suggest that it was founded without colonial status and became a 'colonia latina' in the course of the first century (see Domaszewski, Abhandlungen, p. 153). I have therefore inserted Trier in this chapter with Autun and not in Chapter VIII with Orange and Timgad.
[106] H. Gräven, City Plan of Roman Trier in The Monument Preservation , 14 Dec. 1904 (1:10,000); this plan has been frequently reproduced, as seen in Cramer, The Roman Trier (Gütersloh, 1911), and Von Behr, Trier Annual Reports , i. 1908. See also Barthel, Bonn Yearbooks , cxx. 106. At some point, Trier became a 'colonia.' The timing of this is heavily debated; the evidence suggests to me that it was initially established without colonial status and became a 'colonia latina' during the first century (see Domaszewski, Treatises , p. 153). Therefore, I've included Trier in this chapter alongside Autun instead of in Chapter VIII with Orange and Timgad.
[107] Gräven estimated that, except in the central street, all the 'insulae' measured 300 Roman ft. (290 English ft., 88 metres), but his plan suggests rather 100 metres. We need in reality that larger plan which he did not live to complete.
[107] Gräven estimated that, except for the main street, all the 'insulae' were 300 Roman feet (290 English feet, 88 meters), but his plan suggests more like 100 meters. We actually need that larger plan which he didn’t get a chance to finish.
[108] For accounts of the Silchester excavations, see Archaeologia, vols. lii-lxii, and Victoria Hist. of Hampshire, i. 271, 350; large plan by W.H. St. John Hope (1:1,800) in Archaeol. lxi.
[108] For information on the Silchester excavations, check Archaeologia, volumes lii-lxii, and Victoria Hist. of Hampshire, i. 271, 350; there’s a large plan by W.H. St. John Hope (1:1,800) in Archaeol. lxi.
[109] The plots are of three sizes, two being 3-4 acres (128 x 130 yds.), six about 2.4 acres (128 x 89 yds.), and six about 1.4 acres (89 x 80 yds.). In the third size the dimension of 240 Roman feet (p. 79) can perhaps be recognized.
[109] The plots come in three sizes: two are 3-4 acres (128 x 130 yards), six are about 2.4 acres (128 x 89 yards), and six are about 1.4 acres (89 x 80 yards). For the third size, the dimension of 240 Roman feet (p. 79) might be identifiable.
[110] The three best defined examples measure about 260 x 260, 260 x 280, 275 x 275 ft. (1.55, 1.61, and 1.73 acres respectively). The unit of 240 Roman feet (p. 79) does not appear at Caerwent.
[110] The three clearest examples measure about 260 x 260, 260 x 280, and 275 x 275 ft. (1.55, 1.61, and 1.73 acres, respectively). The unit of 240 Roman feet (p. 79) is not found at Caerwent.
[111] Accounts of the Caerwent Excavations, 1899-1910, will be found in Archaeologia, vols. lvii-lxii. A good plan of the whole town, from which fig. 33 is taken, was issued in vol. lxii, plate 64, by Mr. F. King, architect to the excavations (scale, 1:900).
[111] You can find reports on the Caerwent Excavations from 1899 to 1910 in Archaeologia, volumes 57 to 62. A detailed map of the entire town, from which figure 33 is taken, was published in volume 62, plate 64, by Mr. F. King, the architect for the excavations (scale, 1:900).
[112] Exploration des ruines d' Antinoe, by A.C. Gayet (Annales du Musée Guimet, xxvi, Paris, 1897); Grundzüge der Papyruskunde, Wilcken, i, pp. 49, 50. Professor A.S. Hunt refers me to the following papyri:—Reinach, 49. 11; Oxyrhynchus, 1110. 9-10 and note there; Brit. Mus. 1164 (c) 12. The numeration of the divisions of the town by letters was borrowed from Alexandria, where the five parts of the city were known as A, B, C, D, E. For plans see the Napoleonic Description d'Égypte iv (Paris, 1817), plate 53, and E. Jomard, Antiquités d'Égypte (1818), chap. xv.
[112] Exploration of the Ruins of Antinoe, by A.C. Gayet (Annales du Musée Guimet, xxvi, Paris, 1897); Basics of Papyrus Studies, Wilcken, i, pp. 49, 50. Professor A.S. Hunt points me to the following papyri:—Reinach, 49. 11; Oxyrhynchus, 1110. 9-10 and note there; Brit. Mus. 1164 (c) 12. The division of the town into sections by letters was taken from Alexandria, where the city was divided into five parts known as A, B, C, D, E. For plans, see the Napoleonic Description d'Égypte iv (Paris, 1817), plate 53, and E. Jomard, Antiquities of Egypt (1818), chap. xv.
[113] Baedeker, Palestine and Syria (1906), p. 162.
[113] Baedeker, Palestine and Syria (1906), p. 162.
[114] Minns, Greeks and Scythians, pp. 493, 508, and references there given.
[114] Minns, Greeks and Scythians, pp. 493, 508, and references there given.
[115] See p. 73.
See p. 73.
[117] Mommsen, Eph. Epigr. ix, p. 9; Dessau, Inscr. sel. 6086; 'nei quis in oppido quod eius municipi erit aedificium detegito neive demolito neive disturbato nisei quod non deterius restiturus erit nisei de senatus sententia. sei quis adversus ea faxit, quanti id aedificium fuerit, tantam pequniam municipio dare damnas esto eiusque pequniae quei volet petitio est.' (English translation in E.G. Hardy's Roman Laws and Charters, p. 101.)
[117] Mommsen, Eph. Epigr. ix, p. 9; Dessau, Inscr. sel. 6086; 'If anyone uncovers, demolishes, or disturbs any building in the town that belongs to its municipality, and it is not to be restored without further damage, it will be restored only with the Senate's approval. If anyone acts against this, they must pay the municipality an amount equal to the value of the building, and any claims for this amount must be addressed.' (English translation in E.G. Hardy's Roman Laws and Charters, p. 101.)
[118] Dessau, 6087, 6089; Hardy, Roman Laws, part 2, pp. 34, 108.
[118] Dessau, 6087, 6089; Hardy, Roman Laws, part 2, pp. 34, 108.
[119] For these decrees, which are practically equivalent at this date to laws, see CIL. x. 1401 = Dessau 6043, and de Pachtère in Mélanges Cagnat, p. 169.
[119] For these decrees, which are essentially equivalent to laws at this point, see CIL. x. 1401 = Dessau 6043, and de Pachtère in Mélanges Cagnat, p. 169.
[120] For the letter of Hadrian see Bulletin de Corresp. Hell. x. 111; it is quoted by Bruns, Fontes, 1909, p. 200. Compare the Historia Augusta, Life of Hadrian, ch. 18.
[120] For the letter of Hadrian, see Bulletin de Corresp. Hell. x. 111; it is quoted by Bruns, Fontes, 1909, p. 200. Compare the Historia Augusta, Life of Hadrian, ch. 18.
[121] Mommsen, Eph. Epigr. iii, p. 111 and Ges. Schiften, i. 158, 263, 371; Liebenam, Städteverwaltung, 393.
[121] Mommsen, Eph. Epigr. iii, p. 111 and Ges. Schiften, i. 158, 263, 371; Liebenam, Städteverwaltung, 393.
[122] For the Bastides and Villes Neuves see Dr. A.E. Brinckmann, Deutsche Bauzeitung, Jan.-Feb., 1910, and, for an example, fig. 35. Many of them may be earlier than 1200 (A. Giry, Bibl. de l'École des Chartes, xlii. 451), but those with more or less chess-board plans seem later.
[122] For the Bastides and Villes Neuves, see Dr. A.E. Brinckmann, Deutsche Bauzeitung, Jan.-Feb., 1910, and for an example, fig. 35. Many of them may be from before 1200 (A. Giry, Bibl. de l'École des Chartes, xlii. 451), but those with more or less grid-like layouts seem to be from a later period.
[123] Compare E.A. Lewis, Medieval Boroughs of Snowdonia, pp. 30, 61 foll.
[123] Compare E.A. Lewis, Medieval Boroughs of Snowdonia, pp. 30, 61 foll.
[124] So, too, Lemberg. Compare R.F. Kaindl, Die Deutschen in den Karpathenländern, i. 178, 293; ii. 304; he does not, however, deal with the actual plans.
[124] Likewise, Lemberg. See R.F. Kaindl, Die Deutschen in den Karpathenländern, i. 178, 293; ii. 304; he doesn’t actually discuss the specific plans, though.
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