Porta del Popolo

Stand still for a moment and feel the stones under your feet. They are worn smooth, slightly uneven, and cool even on a warm day. Traffic hums somewhere behind you. In front of you, a pale stone arch rises from the old city wall. For centuries, this was the first piece of Rome that most travellers from the north ever saw. You are standing at the Porta del Popolo, the northern front door of the Eternal City.

This gate sits in the Aurelian Walls. These are the great defensive walls that Roman emperors built in the late third century, when the empire felt less safe than it once had. In ancient times, this opening had a different name. It was the Porta Flaminia, because it marked the start of the Via Flaminia. That ancient road ran north across the Apennine mountains, all the way to the Adriatic coast. Soldiers, merchants and messengers all passed through here.

Now turn and look at the side of the gate that faces away from the centre, toward the road heading north. This outer face is the older of the two facades you see today. It was rebuilt in the sixteenth century under Pope Pius the Fourth. The design is usually credited to the architect Nanni di Baccio Bigio. Notice how calm and balanced it is — columns, a central arch, and a strong sense of order. It was meant to impress anyone arriving from the north.

On either side of that central arch stand two marble figures. They are Saint Peter and Saint Paul, the two great apostles of Rome. The sculptor was Francesco Mochi, an artist of the early Baroque period. Here is a detail that many visitors miss. These statues were not first made for this gate. They were intended for another church in Rome, and they only came to stand here later. So the two saints arrived at this entrance, in a sense, as visitors themselves.

Now walk through the arch and turn around to face the inner side, the side that looks toward the piazza. This face tells a very different story. In 1655, Rome was preparing for a remarkable guest. Queen Christina of Sweden had given up her throne and converted to Catholicism. For a Protestant queen to choose Rome was a great symbolic victory for the papacy. Her arrival had to be perfect.

Pope Alexander the Seventh asked the most celebrated artist in Rome to decorate the inner facade. That artist was Gian Lorenzo Bernini, the sculptor and architect whose work shapes so much of Baroque Rome. Look up at the inscription above the arch. It is in Latin, and it reads, roughly, "for a happy and blessed entrance." Beside it you will see the date 1655, written in Roman numerals. The whole facade was, in effect, a stone welcome card for one woman.

Look closer at the decoration and you will find small heraldic symbols. A cluster of rounded hills, topped by a star, appears in the stonework. These are the emblems of the Chigi family, the family of Pope Alexander the Seventh. Popes liked to leave their mark on the buildings they paid for. Once you learn to spot these little stacked mountains, you will notice them across the city — on fountains, on churches, and on palace walls.

The name Popolo itself carries a small mystery. In Italian, popolo means "people", so many assume it is the gate of the people. But there is another theory. The Latin word for the poplar tree is very similar, and some say poplars once grew here. Nobody can say for certain which explanation is right. The name probably comes from the church beside the gate, which shares it. Both stories have their supporters.

That church is Santa Maria del Popolo, the building to your side as you face the piazza. Its history begins with a legend. Locals say that the ghost of the emperor Nero haunted this spot, under a walnut tree where he was believed to be buried. According to the tale, a medieval pope had the tree cut down and built a chapel here to drive the spirit away. It is folklore, not documented history, but it has been told for centuries.

Whatever its origins, the church today holds real treasures. Inside are two paintings by Caravaggio, showing the conversion of Saint Paul and the crucifixion of Saint Peter. The same two apostles who guard the outer gate appear again inside, painted with raw, dramatic light. There is also a chapel designed by Raphael for the wealthy Chigi banking family. Few visitors expect to find such work just steps from a city gate.

Now look out across the great oval square in front of you, the Piazza del Popolo. At its centre stands an ancient Egyptian obelisk, covered in hieroglyphs. It was brought from Egypt to Rome under the emperor Augustus and first stood in the Circus Maximus, the old chariot-racing track. In 1589, Pope Sixtus the Fifth had it moved to this square. He wanted travellers to see it straight away, as a marker pointing toward the heart of Rome.

Beyond the obelisk, two churches stand side by side. They look like twins, though they are not quite identical. Between and beside them, three long streets fan out into the city. Romans call this layout the trident. The central street is the Via del Corso, which runs straight toward the centre. For a traveller coming through this gate, the whole city seemed to open up at once. Above you, on the hill to the east, the Pincio terrace looks down over the square.

For centuries, this was the classic arrival into Rome. Young aristocrats on the Grand Tour — the long educational journey through Europe — came this way by carriage. The German writer Goethe reached Rome in 1786, and travellers like him from the north usually entered here. The two smaller side arches came much later, in the late nineteenth century, to help modern traffic flow. As you walk away, glance back once at the arch. You are passing through the same door that pilgrims, queens and poets passed through before you.