Letter 2039: If we wish to preserve the marvels heard about from antiquity for the praise of our reign -- since it adds to a...

CassiodorusAloisius, Architect|c. 522 AD|Cassiodorus
barbarian invasionillness
From: Theoderic (through Cassiodorus), King of the Ostrogoths
To: Aloisius, Architect
Date: ~522 AD
Context: A magnificent letter ordering the restoration of the famous hot springs at Abano Terme (Aponus) near Padua, containing one of the finest ancient descriptions of a thermal spa.

If we wish to preserve the marvels heard about from antiquity for the praise of our reign -- since it adds to a king's glory when nothing decays under his rule -- how much more fitting is it to restore what we have seen with our own eyes? It delights us to recall the power of the health-giving springs of Aponus [modern Abano Terme, near Padua], so that you may understand how eagerly we wish to restore what never leaves our memory.

We saw the blue-green spring bubbling up in hollowed cavities shaped like a barrel, and the vents of steaming waters crowned by nature's admirable design with smooth round rims. Though they exhale misty vapors like any hot springs, they reveal such pleasing clarity to human sight that anyone would want to touch that beauty, even knowing it burns. The water swells above its rim in the shape of a sphere, so full, and then flows away with such calm, such apparent stillness, that you would not think it was rising at all -- except that you can hear something escaping with a hoarse murmur.

The waters arrive through cold channels so heated that even after winding through extended distances designed to cool them, they remain intensely hot. What marvelous genius in the builder, who tempered the fury of nature for human benefit, so that what at its source could deliver death, when expertly controlled, gave both pleasure and health! It is a wonder to see -- waters exhaling fiery vapors, flames inseparable from waves, heat arriving by the flow of a stream, where normally it would be extinguished. The philosophers rightly say that the elements are bound together in mutual embrace, joined in wondrous alliance though they seem to fight with contrary natures.

Here the wet substance produces fiery vapors. When the water reaches the beautiful bathhouse buildings and strikes against the rocks as it descends, it heats the very air with its quality and becomes comfortable to the touch when received in the baths. Not so much delicious pleasure as gentle medicine is gained -- cure without torment, remedy without dread, painless health. The ancients gave it the Greek name Aponus, meaning "without pain," so that the sick person would recognize the nature of so great a remedy from the name alone.

Among the other wonders of this place, we have learned something astonishing: a single nature of flowing water seems suited to different purposes. Immediately on striking stone, it breathes into the first chamber the quality of a steam room. Then, descending into the pool in a milder state, it loses its threatening heat and softens to a gentle temperature. Next, led into an adjoining space with some delay, it becomes still more pleasantly warm. Finally, leaving even that warmth behind, in the Neronian pool it becomes as cold as it was previously hot.

No wonder it shares the name of its inventor and is akin to the green of gemstones -- that glassy element, transparent in its color, gently stirring quiet ripples. And to make the bath itself purer, by a stunning rule of modesty, if a woman descends into the water designated for men, it flares to scalding heat -- because a separate, equally fine provision has been made for them as well, so that they should not think this most abundant site of hot waters could not provide enough for both sexes.

This perpetual flow of water provides clear evidence that it erupts from underground through fiery veins of the earth via hidden channels. If the fire were part of the water's own nature, the substance would have been destroyed without losing its essence. But water, a material sensitive to change, just as it took on foreign fire, so it easily regains its native coolness.

That healing power provides another kind of aid as well. Near the head of the sparkling spring, provident nature formed a particular channel. Above this a chair is placed, perforated in the shape of an apse to suit human needs, and receives the sick who suffer from excessive internal moisture. While the weary sit there in their great exhaustion, refreshed by the pleasure of the vapor, they restore their tired organs and the moisture swollen by harmful infusion is drawn out by life-giving dryness. Revived as if by some desirable food, they feel immediately stronger. The healing substance draws its heat from sulfur and its drying power from salt. Not to pass such things on to posterity would be a grave failing across the ages.

Therefore let the ancient solidity of the buildings there be renewed. Whether in the underground channels or in the baths themselves, whatever needs repair, see to it under your supervision. Have the noxious thickets torn out by the roots, lest their creeping tendrils gradually swell and work their way into the fabric of the buildings, breaking the structure apart like vipers producing offspring by self-destructive fertility. Strengthen the palace, shaken by long age, with constant repair. Clear the space between the public hall and the head of the hot spring of its wild overgrowth. Let the beautiful surface of the meadow smile with blooming grass. And if the budget we have given you cannot complete the work, send us an estimate of what more is needed, because we do not begrudge the expense of preserving such magnificent rural treasures.

Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.

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