The Crater of Agnano: Death and Resurrection

Northwestern State University (Research Day 2004)

Jean D'Amato Thomas

The volcanic terrain of the Campi Flegrei (Phlegraean Fields) in the Terra Laboris (Land of Labor) just northwest of Naples has created an environment unique in its power to entice visitors, inspire poetry, and evoke imagery such as this late sixteen-century engraving by the Flemish artist Joris Hoefnagel (I).

I. Joris Hoefnagel, Campania Felix / Civitates Okbis Terrarum)

 The fertile luxurious  slopes recreated by Hoefnagel were the perfect setting for Vergil’s Georgics and the Elysian Fields; the minerals, salubrious waters, and heated caves provided natural medicinal cures often lauded in ancient poetry; while these same caves with their erratic seismic action, and fiery sulphurous emissions provided a striking scenario for visions of the underworld:  Odysseus, Aeneas, and later Christ are reported to have entered the nether regions from the shore of the haunting crater-lake Avernus shown here again in a Hoefnagel recreation in the upper register of this engraving (II).

II. Joris Hoefnagel:Avernus and Agnano / Civitates Urbis Terraruh

Likewise imbued with its own legendary underworld associations, while becoming a much-frequented site for its medicinal properties, is the similar crater of Agnano, once more eloquently reproduced here by the Flemish artist in the bottom register of the engraving (II).  Somewhat different from Avernus, where both heroes and mere mortals were doomed to pass into a grim eternal life until, in Christian tradition, they were liberated by Christ at his second coming,  the caves and noxious fumes of Agnano, which also offered bodily cures, were eventually imagined by medieval Christians to purge and heal souls who would then pass on to eternal life in heavenly bliss.  In short it became the  Christian Purgatory. The claims of this Purgatory, however,  not only were revealed in legend, but came to be revealed  by a demonstration of the presumed death and resurrection of  animals. These included a variety of species, including even humans.  The preferred victim was the dog, whence derived the name of its most important cave Grotta dei Cani (Grotto of the Dogs) graphically represented in the Hoefnagel engraving.   Through this vignette of man's interaction with nature, I hope to provide an insightful glance into the cultural heritage of an area which, before the spectacular 18^th century discoveries of the gates hurried by Vesuvius,  offered the best preserved vestiges of the classical world on Italian soil next to Rome. At the end, you will see how, in my own visit to the crater,  I nearly realized the words of  Hoefnagel’s contemporary , the Elizabethan scholar Fynes Moryson, who lamented ‘..as writing of these intricate caves under the earth, my selfe am fallen into a labyrinth, wherein I had much rather die than go backe to Naples for searching the truth.”  

  Located about three miles northwest of Naples and about a mile above the shoreline

III. Map of Area (Modern)

from the promontory of Paussilipo to Pozzuoli, Map (III), the crater was dry in antiquity, as we can see today from this modern view (IV), but apparently contained water periodically during the middle ages at which point it is probably the site referred to in medieval documents as lacus Angulanus or amnis

IV. View of Modern crater and Ruins of Ancient Structure (Sweat chamber / Sudatorium?)

angulans.   No literary references exist from classical antiquity, however, though extant remains on the slopes of the crater, such as those on shown here (IV), attest to a continued tradition of usage from classical antiquity through the middle ages. This usage is supported  both by the archaeologists who have uncovered evidence of the continued utilization of the roadways around the crater which linked up to Naples and by medieval land-grant documents that determine property boundaries. Turning back to the ruins themselves, we find  various bathing establishments, as would be congruent with the tradition of the region for medicinal bathing and even now any observer recognizes the sulfuric nature of the fumes which still appear periodically as in the back of this photograph. (V)

V. Agnano:  Crater with Fumarole (musette)

In later tradition, these came to be called fumerole (little fumes) or musette (musty vapors) and identified with the Charonea scrobes (pits) or spiracula (air-holes) mentioned by Pliny in an account of the region (NH.2.208) as being lethal, whence the adjective Charonea from Charon the boatman of the classical Underworld. The ancient Agnano baths were not named specifically, however, and in all likelihood had been generally included among those of the much renowned, and often reviled,  baths at nearby Baiae. Indeed, even modern scholars have been seduced into falsely identifying the Agnano baths with those from elsewhere in the Roman empire through  misunderstandings generated by the rich literary tradition surrounding the Baiain sites.  Only with the early middle ages has a possible connection between literary sources and  the actual site been identified, an identification which is crucial to the development of traditions concerning the area.  At this point, St. Gregory the Great (late fifth century) in his rather fanciful Dialogues records the legend of the holy deacon, Paschasius, who was involved in a plot surrounding the claims to the Papal seat of a certain Laurentius against the powerful Symmachus .  Symmachus was selected but Pascasius  died persisting in his beliefs and, apparently, was sent to the sulphuric sudatorium (sweat room) found at the lacus qui dicitur Angulanus” (the lake that was called Angulanus) for punishment.  Sometime thereafter,  Germanus, Bishop of nearby Capua, went to the site for a medicinal cure and discovered the deacon. When Germanus inquired  how such a holy man would be punished,  Pascasius explained the circumstances and begged Germanus to pray for him and to return within a few days to find out if has prayers had been answered.  Fulfilling Pascasius’ request, Germanus went of to pray, then returned to find that the holy deacon was no longer there; presumably he had been taken to his heavenly reward. While some doubt remains whether, in fact, the lacus Angulanus referred to Agnano or another cite, ancient Angulus (Citta de S. Angelo) south in the Abruzzi, the question becomes moot as the Agnano of the Phlegraean Fields would be heralded henceforth as the site of the legend and the Sudatorium, in course of time, would be called Germanus (or some variant) after the Bishop of Capua and the area  identified with Purgatory and its idea of death, purgation, and salvation.

This tradition did not emerge for centuries after St. Gregory, however, as the first actual text linkage among  Agnano,  Gregory’s Angulanus and the Pascasius legend only appeared much later in the middle ages and, then, not primarily in a religious but secular context at this point we again find mention of the legend in the burgeoning literature concerning the medicinal baths of the area.  Without going into the arguments about the chronological development of this tradition, I will simply state that my own research has convinced me that brief medical tract provides the earliest extant description of the medieval baths of the area and was written by a certain Johannes medicus who lived at the end of the llth century.  Totally in keeping with the tradition of medical literature that developed in this area, the tract (Balnea Puteolana see text) offers  a scientific guide to the area’s baths. Perhaps contrary to popular belief, the Roman practices of medicinal bathing did not go out of use during this highly religious age,  but in fact were fostered as a method of healing by no lesser an authority than the Benedictine Rule. The baths of the Phlegraean Fields were no exception.  Thus, while straying very little from purely scientific explanations and cures, as was only permitted in medieval bathing,  Johannes deviates to summarize Gregory’s account of  the Pascasius legend  though perhaps from some, secondary source as the Dialogues were popular and frequently cited. Johannes’ tract is rather disorganized geographically so it is unclear whether he actually knew the topography of the area as he incorporated the legendary material.  A more accurate topographical description of the baths appears about a century or so later in the vastly popular, versified description of the baths, De Balneis Terre Laboris

Composed about 1200 by the southern Italian, Peter of Eboli, who was court poet for the Hohenstaufen King Henry VI, De Balneis Terre Laboris  consisted of about 30 epigrams accompanied by figural illustrations that elaborated upon or complemented the Latin text which followed an Italian from Agnano to Bacoli/Misero. (see Map III) Both text and illustration combine factual information with very deliberate attempt at poetic and visual artistry. In all likelihood, it was intended as an elegant, versified illustrated guide for the poet’s imperial patron. The epigram and illustration  for the Sudatorium  (VI) is taken from the presumed oldest extant manuscript

VI. Rome, Biblioteca Angelica 1474; Balneum Sudatorium (l3th c)

 of the poem, now in the Biblioteca Angelica in Rome, but was probably executed about 50 years after the poem was written. The manuscript  clearly presents an elaboration of the original, not the original text itself,  as one of the epigrams was reputed to have been an addition from the Renaissance onwards and, in general, the poem was continuously amplified with the opening of new sites and new information added to both text and illustrations of subsequent manuscripts accordingly.  Nearly thirty manuscripts are preserved which span from the mid-thirteenth through the sixteenth century with various printed editions published from the sixteenth century onwards.  The text reads in translation:

Without water, the building is well named 'Sudatortia' (sweat chambers), for the suffering man sweats by bronze alone.  In front of the structure, the lake is full of frogs and snakes; neither wild animals nor fish are found there.  If anyone enters the shade of the small canopy, the bodies sweat in the custom of the snow touched by the sun.  It empties out bad fluids; renders the body light; in whatever vase water is placed, it becomes hot.  This water restores those languishing and heals private parts.  It dries out ulcers if ever they hide under the skin.  In this building Germanus, the head of Capua brought you, having been found, to the pastures sacred with thur.

 The text of Balneum Sudatorium in De Galneis, on the whole, echoes the prose description of Johannes Medicus, who stays closer to the original texts, but provides a far more artful rendition of the material as would befit the poetic manipulation of prose material.

While presuming to offer first-hand knowledge, in reality, the poet combined the standardized classical/medieval material with some direct observation.  The epigram  begins with an acknowledgment of the name Sudatorium (sweat chamber), indicating that patients only sweat and the chamber is without water,  an observation commonly found in ancient and medieval literature.  It then indicates how the lake is filled with frogs (ranis) and snakes (colubris) and that neither wild beasts nor fish are found there.  This observation is especially significant for it reflects the tradition, also found in the site of the Underworld at Avernus (from the Greek, a-ornos, without birds), that the noxious volcanic vapors were deadly to all but the hardiest animal life form of animal life, whence frogs and snakes.   As you may imagine, this feature of the sites contributed greatly  to their location as part of the underworld. For the Sudatorium, the juxtaposition of hits healing properties and potentially deadly nature become important as the traditions about the site develop.  The epigram proceeds with a brief list of cures rendered by the sweat bath, a list of cures standard  in the ancient/medieval medical tradition for Sudatoria,  then a comment that in what ever vessel water is placed, the  warms up followed by the list of cures effected by those taking the water, another feature common to medieval accounts of such sites. The epigram ends with a distich artfully syncopating  the Pascasius/Germanus legend which in which technical mastery and word associations, so prevalent in medieval poetry unite to underscore the legend in its meaning. For instance, Peter remarks that Germanus Capue Caput (note alliteration) found Pascasius in an ede, thereby making a play on the medieval world for building aedes which is the same as the world hades in Medieval orthography while thus (incense)- was traditionally the offering given to appease pagan gods, along with its Judeo-Christian associations.  Even more significantly,  the poet  plays with the idea of the name Pascasius by noting that he had gone to the sacred fields (pascua).  In the later manuscript tradition,  the name Pascasius would even be changed to Paschali, i.e.an adjectival form for  the word for Easter, then the modern derivative Pasquali.

The illustration to the Angelica manuscript is executed in the highly stylized gothico/Byzantine style nonetheless shows an elaboration and expansion of the text with a attention to the actual setting that are rare in manuscripts of this period.  Thus we see the bathers in the  dome shaped structure conventionally used for closed comical structures (known as testudo (turtle shell) in classical Latin.  Bathers are grouped together in the manner of Byzantine art yet seem to show the infirmities to be cured.  One bathes sitting next to a vase holding a plate, probably containing water taken from the lake to be heated as another bather is fetching water from the adjacent lake that would. In accord with the text,  the water would be naturally heated in the sweat chamber.  The lake itself contains only frogs and serpents, again as indicated by the text.  In the register above,  apparently on the side of the lake, cave denoted with two figures, one beseeching the other, thus Pascasius asking Germanus for prayers. Probably various caves, for bathing, resting, eating formed part of the bath complex or were makeshift arrangements around the crater.

Later manuscripts incorporate additional details, either from more direct contact with the

VII. Parma, Biblioteca Palatina, Fondo Palatino 236:  Sudatorium Trituli (l4th c)

site itself or the greater interest in creating “realistic’ narrative scenes that characterized fourteenth century art onward.  Thus, this slide from an early –mid fourteenth-century manuscript now in Parma (VII) , presents an elaborated rendition.  The figures are more natural as the one in the chamber clearly stands and empties a vessel of water into another receptacle over a flame, presumably a rendition of the crater’s natural fires. The animals in the lake all appear to be amphibious, congruent with the text though some are almost certainly gothic fantasies. Most notable, the cave scene is expanded to include three chambers. Their interpretation is  somewhat unclear and probably was intended to show other bathers in bed receiving cures along with the discovery of Pascasius, (the last screen to the right), thus the legend is somewhat underemphasized, perhaps an anticipation of its later subordination.

This basic iconographical format is then followed in later manuscripts, though with some interesting twists.

VIII. Geneva, Biblioteca Bodmeriana, Balneum Sudatorium (14^th c)

For instance, in a seminal  manuscript for the later tradition now in Switzerland at the Martin Bodmer Collection,  we find a very curious feature  that pops up in most later manuscripts and has echoes even in the non-illustrated guide book tradition: the birds that are floating  on the lake.  If you recall, such a feature would be entirely inappropriate for the illustration to this bath were animal  life was restricted to hardy amphibious creatures.  I suspect, rather, that a copier glanced at a cramped gothic text and saw the word for colubris, snakes, highly abbreviated in the Gothic script, and interpreted this as columbis, doves.  The mistake is especially understandable if we realize that the actual sign for a missing m or n is a line above the adjacent vowel while the abbreviation for ri is an apostrophe.  That such a mistaken reading actually took place, is highly suggested by a manuscript that I recently examined in Florence in which the word is written as colubris, with a long mark over the u , thus the word was to be understood as columbris and the translation to Columbis readily understandable. This manuscript, textually, is connected to the group which shows doves on the lake.  It also belongs to the textual tradition that, apparently, was used in the creation of prose renditions of the poem which, as we shall see, then unwittingly repeats a version of the tradition.

 In course of time, as already noted, both text and illustrations expanded.  This expansion included poetic and then prose renditions of the poem in both Latin and   Neapolitan dialect.  One especially important Neapolitan prose version provides a separate description of the fumarole.  Most interestingly, this was preserved in a late l5th/early16th century manuscript now in the library of the Societa per Storia Patria located in the Angevin Castel in Naples (Castel Nuovo), perhaps the actual site of its composition. The Neapolitan prose version is accompanied by the Latin text and appropriate illustrations. The account of the  Fumarole merits its own illustration. 

Apart from renditions of De balneis, the  fifteenth and  sixteenth centuries also saw the development of a full-fledged guide book tradition concerning both of the baths and the more general ancient heritage, along with the beginnings of a rich iconographic tradition that would only be eclipse by the frenzy of activity that resulted from the discovery of sites buried by Vesuvius. Without engaging in the details of the development of the traditions concerning the Phlegraean area as part of the early humanistic movement of the fourteenth and early fifteenth centuries, I may simply note that by the middle of the fifteenth century, particularly with  the support of the Spanish Aragons who had taken control of southern Italy and Sicily from the French Angivins, the region's treasures became the object of intense investigation  on the part of the imperial house and humanists who flocked to the Aragon Court.  Among these humanists were some of the most important figures of the age, including the consummate antiquarian of his age--Flavio Biondo. More interested in sites directly attached to  some classical literary sources, Biondo ignores Agnano.  It remained for a  far less acknowledged humanist, Francesco Griffolini, to give the crater its prominent position amount the areas sites by  producing  the seminal, printed guide to the area, published in l475, the Libillus de mirabilibus puteolorum…(text) Following the itinerary of one of his sources, an anonymous prose account of the baths, Griffolini, starts  his tour from Naples with Agano as his first stop. Like his source, the humanist thus followed, more or less, the path found in the later manuscripts of De balneis  that actually were the source for the original anonymous tract.  These same manuscripts also included the birds sitting on the crater-lake at Agnano now transformed into swallows (hirundes) which were common in the area.(here Hirundines swallows).  In the Griffolini text the humanist continues to include the Pascasius/Germanus legend, but without any detail. In the world of classical revival and humanistic inquiry, the medieval legend has apparently become somewhat passe, leaving its wake primarily in the name of San Germano (St. Germanus) for the Sudatorum. A far more attractive tradition would emerge with Griffolini's successor, a northern Italian Augustinus Tyfernus. 

Apparently going out of print shortly after publication, Griffolini’s Libellus was then “discovered” about twenty five years later by a northern visitor Augustinus Tyfernus, who had come initially to the area for search of medicinal cures but became fascinated by the region's rich tradition and extensive remains. His visit coincided with a movement on the part of the Spanish, now not the crown itself but viceroys from Spain who were eager to open up communications between Naples and the Phlegraean Fields as part of a general political/cultural program.  Their efforts largely resulted and establishing the Phlegraean Fields as a stop of primary importance for the in the influx of tourists traveling through Europe as part of the  “Grand Tour,” then in its nascent stages.  Needless to say, intertwined with such interest was also  the  burgeoning discipline of archeology that accompanied Renaissance humanistic interests, and, of course,  the gusto for travel endemic in this consummate Age of Exploration.  Published in 1506, Tyfernus’ guide is now terribly rare.   Perhaps not accidentally,  the single existant, as far as I am aware (text), copy, shown here (X) was bought in Rome in 1512) by a Spaniard and is now housed in Spain at the library dedicated to Christopher Columbus in  the University of Saville.

Concerning the mouth or cave where all things having been sent in alive, die. There is among these baths (i.e. of Agnano) very nearby round the lake at the right, a mouth (i.e. cave) cut into the mountain, neither wide nor long.  But gradually gong down bending a little into an elbow.  In the middle of this there is a marker made of stone beyond that, if an animal should proceed by a few leaps  to only one finger, with a few upward jumps beforehand,  immediately he fell into the earth and died. But even so, if suddenly after he was thrown into the lake lying in front, little by little he returned to himself and stood up walking in an unsteady manner.  A man, indeed brazen(temerarious) , from the Spanish people recently wanted to attempt this:  the man, armed entering as it were about to fight that hiding plague died by a wretched death.   (text)

As we shall see, Tyfernus’ Spaniard was apparently not the only one to tempt fate by walking into the cave and the word temerarius (brazen) eventually would even be emblazoned on a banner held by the figure of death (or skeleton of the deceased)  who hovers over the cave in the engraving tradition. From a scientific perspective, the fumes of the cave, which came commonly to be designated as musette, were a mixture that rose up in  the cave opening and virtually suffocated those standing up, also solidifying into poisonous drops of water. One thus finds  the attraction of stray dogs, abundant in the area, who were low but jumped. There were also a legend that the victim given the apparent abundance of stray dogs around the crater which, appropriately came to be named Grotta dei Cani (Grotto of the Dogs). Whether, the attraction of a sexual stimulant ( and here I need not mention the now popular suffocating aspect) was also present as an enticement for the occasional human temerarious,  as the modern tradition suggests, remains an open question.