The warrior pope's road

Via Giulia is one of Rome's great historical streets. It begins at Ponte Sisto and ends a straight kilometre away at the church of San Giovanni dei Fiorentini , across the river from Castel Sant'Angelo. It was part of a 16th century urban planning project, designed by Pope Julius II (born Giuliano della Rovere) which was never finished. He intended to reorganise the chaotic Medieval city. The street was meant to connect all governmental institutions: the Palazzo della Cancelleria, the papal mint and the future Palazzo dei Tribunali to the redesigned Vatican. The job was entrusted to Donato Bramante
who at the time was working on the new Basilica of St. Peter's (also commissioned by Pope Julius). He designed a perfect straight line which to build it, meant destroying a number of medieval alleys. Not only was this new road to have gathered in one place all the important administrative offices and embassies but it was also to have provided a useful secure route for bringing in merchandise from Rome's port on Ripa Grande to the heart of the business district and onwards to the new city state of the Vatican. Alas the plan never reached completion. Work on Bramante's Palazzo dei Tribunali, which was to have put all the judiciary under one roof ground to a halt, thus scuppering the rest of the warrior Pope's projects. 

 

Starting from lungotevere dei Tebaldi, opposite Ponte Sisto seems logical as the first thing that catches the eye on Via Giulia is an elegant ivy-covered arch. Actually, it's a little way down but it invites you to explore further. I attacked it from Via dei Pettinari, a narrow street straight out of Medieval Rome leading up to Pope Julius' more modern vision.
By today's standards it's still a narrow street but at the time it was created its straight-as-a-die line would have made it a novelty. Stepping onto the Via Giulia is like stepping into a shaded tunnel as a high wall leading up to Lungotevere runs down one side and the other is wall-to-wall elegant buildings. I have to jump out of the way from time to time as small cars speed past barely an inch from my side.

I'm looking for the Fontana del Mascherone. I find it, backed up against a wall, beside the French consulat, where a group of young tourists have chosen to have a snack. The fountain, made of white marble, belonged to the Farnese family and would once have been part of a theatre. During celebrations in 1720 for the election of the Grand Master of Malta wine poured from the gaping mouth of the fountain. Above the fountain stands the symbol of the Farnese family, a lily.

Just a little bit further is the Farnese arch, designed by Michelangelo, it serves as a majestic welcome to anyone strolling onto the street, almost as if it had been intended as an entrance. It was part of another unfinished project which was to have linked the gardens of Palazzo Farnese via a bridge over the Tiber to Palazzo Farnesina. The arch must have had a recent clean up as today the usual ivy fronds are not dangling down into the street though the walls of the adjacent garden to Palazzo Farnese, home of the French Embassy, is covered in the lush green leaves.




Equally eye catching is the church of Santa Maria dell'Orazione e della Morta, just beyond the arch. It was built by a confraternity responsible for burying abandoned corpses. Images of death adorn the church reminding passers-by that people are but dust and bones. The crypt, once the cemetery of the confraternity, contained up to 8000 bodies. Today it is an ossuary where everything is made of the bones of the deceased. Outside the church beside the central door are two grisly alms boxes: one for the abandoned dead and another for the perpetual light, both feature a winged skeleton.

As my gaze turns upward I'm attracted by the falcon heads of the adjacent building, Palazzo Falconieri, named after the original owners and now home to the Hungarian academy in Rome. I continue my walk past Palazzo Baldoca Muccioli, a 16th century edifice. I cross a junction and note that I share the same name as the road before coming to the church of Santa Caterina di Siena, on the façade is the symbol of Siena a she-wolf with Senius and Aschius, the legendary founders of Siena, sons of Remus and nephews of Romulus, the legendary founders of Rome. When Romulus murdered their father, Remus, they fled Rome, one on a black horse and the other on a white horse thus came into being the heraldic colours of Siena.

It's hot on the road and I move to the shaded side. Next to the church is a noble residence, the Palazzo Varese. Further along I pass the Church of the Neapolitan Holy Spirit (Chiesa dello Spirito Santo dei Napoletani) , a mouthful of a name in any language. Historically, it was the church of worship for the Kingdom of the two Sicilies. The façade is striking enough to make me pause. The church stands beside the famous/infamous Liceo Virgilio - a two storeyed ten-windowed front looks onto Via Giulia. Term is over but the front door is open. Presumably the catch-up classes are still going on for those students who didn't quite make the 60% required pass mark in every subject.

Sunlight floods the road as the wall of buildings gives way to a building site for an underground carpark. This is followed by the Antimafia Commission, police and soldiers stand guard outside. I stroll on in the hard hitting afternoon heat. Even though the Tiber is just a few metres away no cooling breeze finds its way onto the street. 

I can see the end of Via Giulia where it opens out onto the Piazza of San Giovanni dei Fiorentini. But first there are more churches and buildings to gaze at and admire: Santa Maria del Suffragio (belonging to a confraternity that prayed for the souls of the dying and the dead), San Biagio degli Armeni aka San Biagio della Pagnotta (the national church of the Armenian community in Rome) and Palazzo Sacchetti.

Palazzo Sacchetti was designed by the architect Sangallo, in 1542, to be his residence. He aimed to make it the 'perfect building' and dedicated the last ten years of his life to the project. It was finished by his son Orazio. In 1608, it was bought by the archbishop of Naples who built a frescoed chapel. In then became the property of the Marquis Sacchetti of Florence. It is famous for its room of the globes (Sala dei mappamondi) with frescoes depicting the story of David by Francesco Salviati. But there is also a garden with a courtyard and nympheum, beautiful corridors and large terraces. Sadly, it is not open to the public except on special occasions or by appointment.

On the façade of the Palazzo Sacchetti is a small, easy-to-miss fountain, the fontana del putto. It is thought to have been built around the same time as the building either by Sangallo or, a later architect, Nanni di Baccio Biagio who worked on the building for the Cardinal of Montepulciano. The central figure of a boy is situated between two pillars and embraced by dolphins beneath a shell. The basin into which water would have flowed no longer exists and over time the fountain has been extensively damaged.

The end of the walk is here, a kilometre down the road, steps away from the Tiber on the desolate Piazza of San Giovanni dei Fiorentini. The impressive looking church is closed with two people sitting on its steps, both consulting their phones. A lone gypsy woman passes by. I can feel the rumble from the nearby busy Corso Vittorio Emanuele. I look back down the perfect line of Via Giulia. It may not have been quite what the warrior pope had intended but it is one of the great streets of Rome with its impressive palazzi and churches which embraced different confraternities. It's also a walk through Italy: Siena, Naples, Florence, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, with its two capitals of Naples and Palermo, are represented here. I leave Via Giulia and plunge into the medieval warren of streets, remnants of what the area was like before Pope Julius had his way.