Temple of Vespasian and Titus

Stand still for a moment at the western end of the Roman Forum. Behind you, the slope of the Capitoline Hill rises in a wall of brown stone and old brick. In front of you, three white columns stand close together, very tall and very thin, holding up a broken piece of carved marble. The gravel crunches under your shoes. The light here often arrives late, because the hill keeps this corner in shade for part of the day.

Those three columns are almost everything that survives of the Temple of Vespasian and Titus. It was a temple to two men who had been emperors, and who were declared gods after their deaths. That idea can feel strange today. In Rome, though, an emperor who died could be made a god by a vote of the Senate. He then received a temple, priests, and sacrifices, just like the older gods of the city.

So who was Vespasian? He was not born into the old Roman aristocracy. His family came from the countryside, and he built his career as a soldier. In the year 69 of the Common Era, Rome went through a brutal civil war. Four men claimed the throne in a single year. Vespasian was the last one standing, and he founded a new ruling family, called the Flavian dynasty after the family name.

Vespasian had a dry sense of humour, and Roman writers enjoyed it. The biographer Suetonius reports that as Vespasian lay dying, he joked: "Oh dear, I think I am becoming a god." He knew exactly what the Senate would do after his death. It is a rare moment where you can hear a real personality behind the marble... a practical old general, laughing at his own ceremony.

Vespasian died in the year 79. His elder son, Titus, became emperor and began this temple in his father's honour. But Titus did not have an easy reign. In his short time on the throne, Mount Vesuvius erupted and buried Pompeii. Then a great fire damaged parts of Rome. Titus also opened the Colosseum, which his father had started. And then, after only about two years, Titus died as well.

Here is the first surprise. The temple was finished by a third man — Domitian, the younger brother of Titus. Domitian completed the building and dedicated it to both his father and his brother. So when you look at these columns, you are looking at one family's story in stone. A father, two sons, and a dynasty that tried to make its power look sacred and permanent.

Now look at the space around the temple. It is very tight. The Temple of Concord stands right next to it, and the hill presses in from behind. The architects had very little room. Because of this, the temple was quite small and deep, with a row of columns across the front. Some of the front steps were even placed between the columns, because there was no space for a full staircase outside them.

Lift your eyes to the top of the three columns. They are Corinthian columns. That means their tops, called capitals, are carved with curling acanthus leaves, a plant common around the Mediterranean. Above the capitals sits a long horizontal band of carved stone, the entablature. Even from the ground, you can see that the carving is deep and crisp. Roman craftsmen of the Flavian period were very skilled.

The band just under the top of that entablature is the frieze, and it is worth a careful look. It shows the tools of a Roman sacrifice. You may pick out the skull of an ox, a shallow dish for pouring offerings, a knife, an axe, and a pointed priest's cap. These objects were not decoration for its own sake. They told every passer-by what happened here: priests killed animals and poured wine in honour of the deified emperors.

The second surprise is a few letters of text. On the part of the entablature that faces the Forum, you can read the letters E, S, T, I, T, U, E, R. They are part of the Latin word for "they restored". Those letters come from a later inscription. More than a century after Domitian, the emperor Septimius Severus and his son Caracalla repaired the temple and put their names on it. Their great arch stands just a short walk away.

For centuries after Rome fell, earth and rubble slowly filled this part of the Forum. The three columns were buried up to a large part of their height. Old drawings show them standing half underground, with cattle grazing nearby. In the early nineteenth century, workers dug out the base and strengthened the columns, which were leaning and in danger. If you look closely, you can see the difference between the ancient marble and the later repairs.

The temple sits in a crowded neighbourhood of ruins. Just beside you, the Temple of Saturn keeps its eight grey columns. Up the slope, a short row of columns marks a portico for the twelve chief gods of Rome. Above everything, the ancient record office called the Tabularium supports the later city hall of Rome. Some fragments from this temple's entablature have been taken inside the Capitoline Museums, for protection.

This is one of the best places to understand how the Forum worked as a stage. A visitor walking along the Sacred Way, the Forum's main street, would see these temples lined up against the hill like a painted backdrop. Gods old and new stood side by side. Saturn, one of the oldest gods, and Vespasian, a soldier who died in living memory, shared the same view over the square.

Before you move on, look again at those three columns. They have survived fire, earthquakes, looting, and burial. They still hold up their carved stone ox skulls and priestly tools, high above the crowd. As you walk away along the Forum, turn back once. Notice how small they look against the hill... and how they still catch the light first, when the sun clears the Capitoline.