There are monuments of all kinds in this suburban avenue of Pompeii. Many of them are simple pillars in the form of Hermes-heads. There is one in quite good preservation that was closed with a marble door; the interior, pierced with one window, still had in a niche an alabaster vase containing some bones. Another, upon a plat of ground donated by the city, was erected by a priestess of Ceres to her husband, H. Alleius Luceius Sibella, aedile, duumvir, and five years’ prefect, and to her son, a decurion of Pompeii, deceased at the age of seventeen. A decurion at seventeen!—there was a youth who made his way rapidly. Cicero said that it was easier to be a Senator at Rome than a decurion at Pompeii. The tomb is handsome—very elegant, indeed—but it contained neither urns, nor sarcophagi; it probably was not a place of burial, but a simple cenotaph, an honorary monument.
The same may be said of the handsomest mausoleum on the street, that of the augustal Calventius: a marble altar gracefully decorated with arabesques and reliefs (OEdipus meditating, Theseus reposing, and a young girl lighting a funeral pile). Upon the tomb are still carved the insignia of honor belonging to Calventius, the oaken crowns, the bisellium (a bench with seats for two), the stool, and the three letters O.C.S. (ob civum servatum), indicating that to the illustrious dead was due the safety of a citizen of Rome. The Street of the Tombs, it will be seen, was a sort of Pantheon. An inscription discovered there and often repeated (that which, under Charles III., was the first that revealed the existence of Pompeii), informs us that, upon the order of Vespasian, the tribune Suedius Clemens had yielded to the commune of Pompeii the places occupied by the private individuals, which meant that the notables only, authorized by the decurions, had the right to sleep their last slumber in this triumphal avenue, while the others had to be dispossessed. Still the hand of Rome!
Another monument—the one attributed to Scaurus—was very curious, owing to the gladiatorial scenes carved on it, and which, according to custom, represented real combats. Each figure was surmounted with an inscription indicating the name of the gladiator and the number of his victories. We know, already, that these sanguinary games formed part of the funeral ceremonies. The heirs of the deceased made the show for the gratification of the populace, either around the tombs or in the amphitheatre, whither we shall go at the close of our stroll, and where we shall describe the carvings on the pretended monument of Scaurus.
The tomb of Nevoleia Tyche, much too highly decorated, encrusted with arabesques and reliefs representing the portrait of that lady, a sacrifice, a ship (a symbol of life, say the sentimental antiquaries), is covered with a curious inscription, which I translate literally.
“Nevoleia Tyche, freedwoman of Julia, for herself and for Caius Munatius Faustus, knight and mayor of the suburb, to whom the decurions, with the consent of the people, had awarded the honor of the bisellium. This monument has been offered during her lifetime by Nevoleia Tyche to her freedmen and to those of C. Munatius Faustus.”