A capital of kingdoms and of republics and of an empire the armies and polity of which defined the Western world in antiquity and left seemingly indelible imprints thereafter, a city called eternal, as the spiritual and physical centre of the Roman Catholic Church, and a city whose name evokes major pinnacles of artistic and intellectual achievement, Rome has retained all of these attributes: the capital of Italy, a font of religious authority, and a memorial to the creative imagination of the past. Probably more than any other city in the West, possibly more than any other in the world, it is a city whose history continues to shape nearly every aspect of its being but, at the same time, whose contemporary consciousness of that history projects it into the very core of modern life.

For well over a millennium, Rome controlled the destiny of all civilization known to Europe, then fell into dissolution and disrepair. Physically mutilated, economically paralyzed, politically senile, and militarily impotent by the late Middle Ages, Rome nevertheless remained a world power--as an idea. The force of Rome the lawgiver, teacher, and builder continued to radiate throughout Europe. Although the situation of the popes from the 6th to the 15th century was often precarious--at times tragic, ridiculous, or shameful--Rome knew glory as the fountainhead of Christianity and eventually won back its power and wealth and reestablished itself as a place of beauty, a source of learning, and a capital of the arts.

The fountains

Rome is as much a city of fountains as it is of churches or palaces, antiquities or urban problems. The more than 300 monumental fountains are an essential part of Rome's seductive powers. Part of the everyday, yet part of the daily surprise, they are points of personal, often sentimental attachment to the city. The Roman composer Ottorino Resphigi found in them inspiration for his orchestral tone poem Fontane di Roma (1917). In their ceaseless pouring forth, they also provide a sense of luxury: on her arrival Queen Christina, having watched the fountains in St. Peter's Square, gave her permission for them to be turned off only to learn that they flowed all the time.

Every fountain has its history and many have legends, the best known of which guarantees a return to Rome to those who toss coins into the Trevi Fountain. Restored after 1,000 years of silence by Pope Nicholas V in 1485, the fountain was renewed in the 17th century and then transformed from a handy source of household water into a scenic wonder. The huge fountain bulges into most of a tiny square and takes up the entire end of an abutting palace. Niccolò Salvi won a 1732 competition by designing a late Baroque marble mass of rocks and rills, rush and gush, beards and buttocks, all very allegorical and damp. It took 30 years to complete. Its water, from Acqua Vergine, was considered Rome's softest and best tasting; for centuries, barrels of it were taken every week to the Vatican and carried off by the jugful by expatriate English tea brewers. Declared nonpotable in 1961, the waters are now recycled by electric pumps.

Out of the Bernini-Borromini rivalry that so enriched the Roman cityscape arose a legend, still believed and recounted today. This explains that, on Bernini's allegorical Piazza Navona fountain, the statue of the Nile River, whose source was then unknown, hides its head to avoid seeing the Borromini facade on the church opposite, and that of the Río de la Plata raises its arm in alarm to prevent the building from falling. The fountain was, in fact, unveiled in 1651, a year before the church of S. Agnese was begun, two years before Borromini was called in, and 15 years before the facade was completed. The church is owned and maintained by the Doria-Pamphili family.

The oldest of the city's fountains is really a spring, the Lacus Juturnae in the Forum, restored in 1952 to the appearance it had in Augustan times. The newest fountain in the old city is one of the most admired. Inaugurated as simple jets of water in the Piazza Esedra (now the Piazza della Repubblica) by Pius IX just 10 days before the troops of united Italy broke into the city, it was probably the last public work dedicated by a pope in his role of temporal magistrate of the city. In 1901 the nymphs frolicking with sea beasts were added.

The least-liked fountain figure in Rome, unpopular since it was installed in 1587, is on the triumphal arch fountain in the Piazza S. Bernardo, commissioned by Sixtus V. The figure is a pallid Moses, apparently in imitation of Michelangelo's, and its sculptor, Prospero Bresciano, is said to have been so hurt by the public's jeers that he died of a broken heart.

(Text From www.Britannica.com)