Santa Maria in Aracoeli

The sad story of the Santo Bambino at the Capitoline church

Santa Maria in Aracoeli is an ancient church. It was already old when it was first mentioned in the 7th century, but its current incarnation dates back to the Franciscans and AD 1250, with the thigh-burning 124-step staircase completed in 1348.

Legend holds that the Tiburtine Sibyl told Emperor Augustus that on this lofty spot—today wedged between the Vittoriano and the Capitoline Museums atop the Capitoline Hill—would be an "altar to the first among gods," whereupon the emperor had a vision of the heavens opening up and a woman bearing a child in her arms alight on the hilltop.

Augustus dutifully built an aracoeli, or "Altar in the Sky" up here, but Christians later interpreted the prophecy as a reference to their God and replaced it with a church.

Inside the church of Santa Maria in Aracoeli

Up the incredibly steep and seemingly unending staircase—sort of a medieval Stairmaster workout—and past the unfinished facade of rough brick is a Romanesque interior hung with crystal chandeliers and slightly baroqued.

It does, however, retain a Cosmatesque pavement and 22 mismatched antique columns recycled from pagan buildings. The elegant wood ceiling is carved with naval emblems and motifs to commemorate the great naval victory at Lepanto (1571).

The worn tomb of Giovanni Crivelli to the right of the door was cast by Donatello, and the first chapel on the right was frescoed with the Life of St. Bernardino of Siena by Umbrian Renaissance master Pinturicchio, one of his greatest masterpieces. There's also a scrap of a Madonna and Child fresco by Roman medieval master Pietro Cavallini, one of his few surviving works.

The Santo Bambino

To the left of the altar with its 10th-century Madonna d'Aracoeli painting, is the chapel that once housed a highly venerated statue of the baby Jesus called the Santo Bambino.

It was supposedly carved from an olive tree in the Garden of Gethsemane and imbued with miraculous powers to heal the sick (he spent half his time making the rounds of Rome's hospitals to visit the sickbeds of the terminally ill), and answer the prayers of children.

The Bambino received thousands of letters from around the world every year—most addressed simply "Santo Bambino, Roma"—which were left in his chapel, unopened, until they were burned so the prayers in them could waft heavenward. Roman children came to recite little speeches or sing poetry in front of the holy little statue, especially at Christmastime.

The Santo Bambino was stolen in 1994. It has since been replaced by a copy.

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