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X. Sarcophagi of Lucius Cornelius Scipio Barbatus
from Remembering the End of Eternity: 19th Century Architectural Mementos of Ancient Ruined Rome, 2021
i. 11-1/2”h., c 1850, Statuary (Greek?) marble (Unengraved: the largest model of the sarcophagus we’ve yet encountered) ii. 8”h., c 1850, Africano marble iii. 7-1/2”h., c 1850, Peperino (the stone identical to that used in the ancient sarcophagus) iv. 4-1/4”h., c 1840, Giallo antico marble, inkwell lacking lid v. 3”h., c 1850, Giallo antico marble
See Pricing Sometimes/more often than not/almost always, enduring forms rely as much on felicitous timing as momentous deeds. In 298 BCE, Lucius Cornelius Scipio Barbatus, a Roman Consul, led his army to a great victory over the Etruscans at the Battle of Volterra. Twenty-eight years later, he was dead, entombed in a particularly handsome sarcophagus, placed in the family vault along the Appian Way, and forgotten.
i. v.
Until, 2000 years later, it was rediscovered just in time to act on the imaginations of ever-increasing throngs of Roman tourists, may of whom returned home with models of Lucius’ sarcophagus. Why were these such a hit? They satisfy a range of curiosities- morbid and military, historical and hubristic, - over empire lost and rediscovered, the past and the future; setting us in a Rome-antic frame of mind. Roman Nights; Or, the Tomb of the Scipios, by Allessandro Verri, a not very important Italian author (perhaps his time awaits), a c. 1800 nocturnal fantasia, begins with a chapter subtitled “The spectres are led from the tomb of Scipio to the Palatine Hill”. Not long afterwards - ”they cried out with one accord. Alas! how idle the hope of immortal fame! In thy native land, by thee so ennobled, O Scipio! So gone is thy glory, that thy heedless descendants deliberately trample over the fragments of thy tomb”.