Museums of the macabre in Rome | An entertaining alternative to the Sistine Chapel or the Coliseum

What does a lifesize replica of the Iron Maiden of Nuremberg have in common with the burnt imprint of a left hand on someone's book, sleeve or hanky? Both are on display in two of the Eternal City's least known museums, tiny gems which lie far from the beaten track and certainly don't cater to mass appeal.


The somewhat grandiosely-termed Museum of the Souls of Purgatory is housed entirely in one small room next to the sacristy in the Church of the Sacred Heart of Sufferance (Sacro Cuore del Suffragio). The church itself faces onto the Lungotevere Prati and is easily recognized because, although it was built as recently as 1917 (or 1890, by some accounts), it is in Rome a unique example of clearly Gothic inspiration. It was actually built in an eclectic style that borrowed bits and pieces from all the previously important architectural styles, but the dominant characteristic is Gothic. Looking at it you'd never, ever know it's entirely made of concrete.

What exactly is on display? There are objects or photos of objects that show tangible traces of apparitions made by various souls in Purgatory to those left behind on earth. All are hung on the left wall of the display room. There are several images of hand or fingerprints on book pages, wooden boards or articles of clothing. The items come from Belgium, France, Germany and, of course, Italy. To visit the "museum," a term which even the parish priest disdains, enter the church and walk down the right aisle, savoring the Gothic silence, which seems even more exalted after leaving the chaotic traffic outside. Just before the end, enter a door to your right and ask to see il museo. There is no charge, and the parish priest will probably want to explain that the museum is but a very insignificant part of the church's daily life.

After the Souls in Purgatory, you might be ready for something more terrestrial, so what better than the Rome Crime Museum? It's only about 15 minutes away: use Bernini's beautiful Ponte Sant'Angelo to cross the Tiber, continue straight along narrow Via Paola, cross bustling Corso Vittorio Emanuele, continue one more block to Via Giulia and turn left. A few blocks down, on the corner of Via Gonfalone, is a building that clearly used to be a prison. Built in 1827, it now hosts many of the Rome Police Department's offices, so it is constantly, if pleasantly, guarded by police custodians. After undergoing a security check and entering through a double (probably bulletproof) revolving glass door, even the most innocent among us might be feeling a bit apprehensive.

This gloom is immediately dispelled by the sight of a charming bronze bell that awaits just beyond the entrance. But don't be fooled: if you read the sign you'll see that the Mantellate bell was used to mark the passage of time for each activity in the tedious daily routine of Roman prisoners. The museum is divided into three sections, with computers creating a virtual Crime Museum alongside the real one. Section Three, entitled The Social Control of Deviance, examines the subject of penitentiary evolution and the recent history of prisons in Italy. Section Two, called The Spirit of Reason, focuses on the development of criminal anthropology and techniques for reconstructing crimes and so on.

Section One, simply dubbed Punishment and Crimes, is the goriest and most gruesome and hence, the most fascinating. Basically, it demonstrates how criminals were dealt with in the past. Using lifesize models, miniature mock-ups and pictures of the various torture methods employed for centuries throughout the world, it graphically illustrates that suspects had no civil rights to protect them from abuse, and that torture itself was often considered a demonstration of a ruler's power.

Some of the methods are really quite ingenious, in a horrific sort of way. There's the Iron Maiden, a larger-than-life body-shaped hollow iron cast with spikes pointing inward, so that when a person was placed inside and the two halves were closed, the spikes penetrated the flesh. There are also shackles, torture chairs with spiked seats, whips with four tails and more. Some of the names are quite inventive too. I particularly like the term "crib of Judas," primarily because I can't understand what Judas had to do with it. This method of extracting confessions called for the suspect to be seated on the summit of a pyramid-like structure while heavy stones, attached to both his legs, pulled his body down. I would think anyone would confess quite readily. Certainly I would.

Having completed a tour of this section, you'll surely have had enough gore to last you a lifetime. As interesting as the museum is, I wager you'll feel very glad to see the gorgeous blue Roman sky when you walk back out those heavy revolving doors.