The Roman Ghetto

In the district of the Angel lies the old Jewish ghetto. I approached it from the Teatro Marcello side thus passing under the ancient Portico d'Ottavia which gives its name to the main thouroughfare of the ghetto. 

Once it was home to Rome's principal fish market under the portico and beside the church of Sant'Angelo in Pescheria, known as the oratory of the fishmongers (l'oratorio dei pescivendoli).  

Top of the Portico d'Ottavia

The original ghetto lay in the area limited by the contemporary Via del Portico d'Ottavia, Piazza delle Cinque Scole and the Tiber. It was formed on 12 July 1555 by the Pope Paul IV (of the Carafa family) and remained in place for almost 300 years when another Pope, Pio IX (of the Boncompagni family) opened its gates and allowed its people free access to the streets of Rome. For three centuries the enclosed area was unchanged apart for an increase in the number of gates from five to eight and in the number of windows.


Today the portico is enshrined in scaffolding, I skirt around it, into a tunnel and slip behind it into Via della Tribuna Campitelli and walk up towards Piazza Lovatelli, where a man is filling a bottle of water at a street fountain, and onto Via dei Funari. 

There I find myself in front of the Renaissance church of Santa Caterina dei Funari (string and rope makers), renowned for its travertine facade.  As every time I have been past this church it's closed. I have heard that the frescoes and paintings within are well worth seeing. Maybe another day?

Many years ago an eccentric artist used to exhibit his work on the steps that led up to the church: he used mainly acrylic paints, bright colours and canvasses canvassed from the streets. But the only trace I find of him today are some paint stains beside the entrance.

Church of Santa Caterina dei Funari

I continue, past Via dei Caetani where the body of the former Prime Minister and Christian Democrat leader, Aldo Moro, was found in a car. He had been kidnapped, held for 55 days and then murdered and left there by the Red Brigades.

 I arrive at the Piazza Mattei with its equisite 'Fountain of the Turtles' (Fontana delle Tartarughe).

 The Fountain was built by the architect Giacomo della Porta and the sculptor Taddeo Landini. The turtles were added later in 1658 by Gian Lorenzo Bernini or Andrea Sacchi. 

Like many Renaissance fountains it was designed to bring drinking water to the Roman population. It was, however, one of the few fountains in Rome not built for a pope but for a patron, Muzio Mattei. The fountain, deriving water from the Roman acqueduct of Acqua Vergine would have served the whole neighbourhood. 


Drinking its water today would more likely result in a bad stomach ache if not a visit to the nearest emergency room. A modest sized notice warns people not to drink the water.

I head down Via della Reginella and discover a shop specialised in pepperoncini (chilli peppers). It claims to sell 17 different types of pepperoncini.  

 I pause outside it, toying with the idea of going in. I spy flasks and phials filled with spicy oils and small jars containing powdered versions of the spices. It all looks geared towards the hordes of tourists that pass down here daily. So I head on down past different shops. 

Then, a plaque starkly reminds passers-by of their history. On the 16 October 1943, 1023 Roman jews were rounded up and deported to concentration camps. Very few returned. On 24 March 1944, 75 Jews taken from the ghetto were murdered at the Fosse Ardeatina on the (then) outskirts of Rome. 

I come out of the narrow alley onto the Portico d'Ottavia again. The restaurants are getting ready for lunch.

 Artichokes are everywhere. This is the home of Kosher cuisine and the famed carciofi alla giudea, bashed and deep fried Romanesco artichokes - an absolute must for any visitor to the ghetto. 

Equally prized are the 'baccala' (salted cod) dishes, traditionally served with chickpeas but also fried or in soups...

I walk past the famed 'Forno'  (baker's) but despite knowing that this is where I can get the best visciole (sour cherry) and ricotta pie in Rome I am not tempted. The pies in the window look burnt on top.

Maybe I'm mistaken. Later, as I pass by again I see a long queue snaking out of the shop onto the street. 

It's still a little early for lunch so I head towards Piazza delle Cinque Scole and its fountain with gorgons' heads on it. 

detail on Via del P. d'Ottavia

detail on Via del portico d'Ottavia.

From thence I go in search of Palazzo Cenci, once home of Beatrice Cenci. It's a frustrating search. I go up Monte dei Cenci past a small abandoned chuch then down onto Piazza dei Cenci and past Palazzetto Cenci followed by an Arco dei Cenci with its own bloody tale.  One thing is clear however, the Cenci were once here.

 
 It would seem that the unfortunate Beatrice Cenci would have lived in a building which backed onto the Monte dei Cenci. She was beheaded along with her mother on Ponte St Angelo for the murder of her father, Francesco Cenci, a violent, incestuous man. Her brother Giacomo was hung, drawn and quartered. The sentence passed by the Pope, an Aldobrandini, may have had more to do with acquiring the family wealth and property rather than exacting justice.

I've gone round in a circle, up and down then under the arch and back towards the gorgons' fountain. If I turn right I'll be on Lungotevere Cenci, I can see the cars racing by and the even row of trees that line the Tiber. 

To my right there is also a large ochre coloured building behind which is the heavily guarded synagogue and the Jewish museum. The synagogue was inaugurated in 1904. On 9th October 1982 five Palestinian terrorists  bombed the it.

I return to my starting point on the Via dell Portico d'Ottavia. The buzzing heart of the ghetto is now aflock with large tour groups. I can hear English spoken as a guide explains to her group the history of the road. Some French teenagers walk past, selfie sticks aloft. At the tables people are perusing menus. Waiters are trying to interest passers-by in their menus. 

The road is now a stretch of terraces on which people can dine. In between all the terraces there is a Kosher bakery and a Kosher deli as well as a shop that sells tourist tat and tack. 

 An area which once would have been starved seems now dedicated to feeding the populace.