The Warrior Pope – The Basilica in the Time of Julius II

The Basilica as Told by Its Builder, Pope Julius II

Museo: Basilica di San Pietro

The Vision of a New St. Peter's

Welcome, faithful and curious ones! I am Julius II, from the noble Della Rovere family, successor of Peter and Vicar of Christ on earth. I welcome you in this Holy Year of 2025, just as I once welcomed pilgrims and princes to my Rome. What you see around you today is the fruit of a vision that was born in my mind more than five hundred years ago, when I decided to demolish the ancient Constantinian basilica to erect the largest temple Christianity had ever seen! The old basilica was now dilapidated, leaning, and threatened to collapse. I could not allow the tomb of the Apostle Peter to lie in a building unworthy of its greatness. In truth, I was never afraid to dare. Those who knew me called me "the terrible Pope" or "the warrior Pope," because I did not hesitate to don armor and personally lead my troops when necessary. I brought the same determination to the reconstruction of this basilica. April 18, 1506, the day of the laying of the first stone, was one of the most solemn moments of my pontificate. That day began an endeavor that would last well beyond my earthly life. If you have any questions during this visit, you can activate a virtual tour guide based on artificial intelligence at any time, which will provide you with further details on what I will show you. Now, let us raise our eyes to the sky of this square and admire the majestic dome that dominates Rome. Let us draw closer and begin our journey.

The Square and the Colonnad

When I conceived the new basilica, I did not imagine this magnificent colonnade that now welcomes you. My favorite architect, Donato Bramante, had designed a centrally planned project, perfectly symmetrical, symbolizing divine perfection. But after my departure, the project was modified several times. What you see today is the work of Gian Lorenzo Bernini, who over a century later created this embrace of columns to welcome the faithful. The colonnade represents the arms of the Church welcoming its children. Look at the pavement: do you notice the stone circles? Stand at the center of one of them and observe: the four rows of columns will appear as one! It is a perspective trick that only a genius could conceive. Did you know that these 284 columns support 140 statues of saints? I wanted the faithful to feel the presence of the blessed as soon as they entered the square. In the center stands the obelisk that Caligula brought from Egypt. In my time, it was located in Nero's circus, not far away. It was my successor, Sixtus V, who had it moved here, with an operation so risky that absolute silence was imposed on all workers during the lifting. When the ropes began to give way due to the heat, a sailor shouted "Water to the ropes!" saving the operation. Instead of punishing him for breaking the order, Sixtus V granted him the privilege of supplying the palms for Palm Sunday. Let us now walk towards the facade of the basilica. Notice how as you approach, the dome seems to hide? This is one of the unforeseen effects of the facade later added by Carlo Maderno. Follow me towards the majestic entrance.

The Facade and the Atriu

This facade was not part of my original plans. My Bramante had designed a centrally planned church, crowned by the great dome. After my death and his, the project passed into the hands of Raphael, then Antonio da Sangallo, and finally the divine Michelangelo, who partially returned to Bramante's original idea. But when Paul V Borghese became pope, he decided to extend the nave and commissioned this facade to Carlo Maderno. The facade is 114 meters wide and 47 meters high, adorned with statues of Christ, John the Baptist, and eleven apostles (only Peter is missing, as he is inside). That large central loggia is the "Loggia of Blessings," from where the Pope gives the Urbi et Orbi blessing on solemn days. Now let's enter the atrium, or narthex. Look up: the rich gilded stuccoes narrate stories of popes and saints. And there, at the far right, you see the equestrian statue of Charlemagne, while on the left is Constantine. Two emperors who have marked the history of the Church. I'll share an anecdote: when I decided to rebuild the basilica, many cardinals vehemently opposed it. They considered it sacrilege to demolish the venerable Constantinian church. I confronted them with my usual fervor, banging my staff on the table and declaring: "I am the Pope and I will do what I want!" No one dared contradict me after that. After all, who would dare challenge a Pope who personally led his armies? Now observe the Holy Door, at the far right. It is the one that is opened only during Holy Years like this one. Let's approach it for our next point.

The Holy Doo

Here we are in front of the Holy Door, which during this Jubilee is open to welcome pilgrims seeking plenary indulgence. In my time, the ritual of opening the Holy Door was not yet established as you know it today. It was my successor, Alexander VI, who first introduced the opening of holy doors in the major basilicas during the Jubilee of 1500. This door represents Christ himself, who said: "I am the door: if anyone enters through me, he will be saved." Passing through it symbolizes the transition from sin to grace. The bronze panels that adorn it depict scenes of mercy and redemption. During the opening ceremony, the Pontiff knocks three times with a silver hammer, then the door is removed. Fragments of it were once considered precious relics, so much so that the faithful would crowd to collect them. For this reason, today the door is simply opened, no longer demolished. I confess that I was not particularly interested in these symbolic rituals. I was a man of action! I preferred to create tangible beauty and visible power. This is why I called the greatest artists of my time to Rome: Bramante, Michelangelo, Raphael. I wanted the house of God to be incomparable! An interesting fact: do you see those marks on the marble frame? During the Jubilee of 1975, an enthusiast tried to enter the basilica with a pickaxe, damaging the door. The marks were left as a warning and a reminder. Now, let's cross the threshold and enter the main nave. Let yourself be overwhelmed by the majesty of the space that opens before you. Follow me inside.

The Central Nav

Here we are in the main nave, the beating heart of my vision. Although what you see is not exactly what I had designed with Bramante, the effect is nonetheless astonishing, don't you think? Originally, we wanted a centrally planned church, perfect like God. But after my earthly departure, they opted for this longitudinal nave, more suitable for processions and grand celebrations. Look up and admire the dimensions: the ceiling rises to 46 meters, adorned with gilded stucco and magnificently coffered. If you look at the floor, you'll notice inscriptions indicating the length of other great churches around the world, all shorter than St. Peter's! I wanted this basilica to surpass in size every other sacred construction. The dimensions are so vast that it's difficult to perceive them correctly. Look at those cherubs holding the holy water fonts: they seem like normal children, right? Get closer and you'll discover they are as tall as an adult man! Everything here was designed to impress and evoke wonder, to make man feel small before the greatness of God. There's an anecdote about a foreign ambassador who, entering the basilica for the first time, exclaimed in astonishment: "Is this the work of giants or demons?" I replied, "No, it is the work of men guided by God." I was convinced that beauty and grandeur could elevate the human spirit towards the divine. Let's move now towards the center of the basilica, where the dome rises and the Confession is located, the point where the body of the apostle Peter rests. Do you see those mosaic medallions along the walls? They depict all the pontiffs, from Peter to the current Pope. My portrait is there, among my predecessors and successors, a visual testimony of apostolic continuity. Proceed with me now towards the center, where Bernini's magnificent baldachin stands, a later addition to my time, but certainly worthy of the grandeur I had envisioned for this sacred place.

Bernini's Baldachin

Here is Bernini's majestic baldachin, almost 30 meters tall! Although it was created more than a century after my pontificate, this extraordinary work perfectly embodies the magnificence I desired for the basilica. Gian Lorenzo Bernini completed it in 1633 under Pope Urban VIII Barberini, whose heraldic bees you can see decorating the pillars. The baldachin marks the exact spot above the tomb of the Apostle Peter and beneath the dome. It consists of four twisted bronze columns supporting a canopy with angels and cherubs. Did you know that the bronze used for this was taken from the Pantheon? This prompted the famous saying: "Quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini" (What the barbarians did not do, the Barberini did). The columns are inspired by those of the ancient Temple of Solomon and the columns of the Constantinian basilica. Look closely: on the shafts of the columns, laurel leaves are carved with small lizards climbing among them, a symbol of resurrection. Just as lizards lose and regrow their tails, so Christ rose after death. I confess that I would have been amazed by this work. Bramante and I had envisioned a great ciborium, but nothing so bold and theatrical. Yet, the effect is exactly what I sought: to guide the faithful's gaze upward, towards God. An interesting fact: during construction, Bernini faced a significant structural problem. The enormous columns risked collapsing under the weight of the canopy. The solution was brilliant: he inserted an iron core inside the columns to ensure their stability, perfectly hidden from the visitor's eye. Now, look beyond the baldachin, towards the back of the apse. Do you see that golden chair supported by the four Doctors of the Church? It is the Chair of Saint Peter, another masterpiece by Bernini. But before we head there, let's turn to the right nave. I want to show you my tomb, which has a rather troubled history and testifies to my special relationship with Michelangelo.

The Tomb of Julius II and the Mose

Dear visitors, we now move to observe one of the greatest regrets of my earthly life: my tomb. What I had commissioned from Michelangelo was meant to be a colossal monument, a mausoleum with over forty life-sized statues that was to be located right under the dome of St. Peter's. It would have been the grandest funerary monument ever created! But, as often happens with ambitious projects, circumstances changed. After my death, my heirs drastically downsized the project. And so, instead of the magnificent tomb I had envisioned, my remains rest in a much more modest monument in the church of San Pietro in Vincoli, not here in the basilica. The most extraordinary part that Michelangelo managed to complete is the statue of Moses, which depicts the biblical lawgiver with horns of light on his head (a result of a mistranslation from Hebrew) and with an expression of terrible power. It is said that once the statue was completed, Michelangelo struck it with a hammer exclaiming, "Why don't you speak?" so satisfied was he with the vitality he had managed to infuse into it. Our relationship was not always easy. Michelangelo was as stubborn as I was, and we clashed several times. Once he fled from Rome because I had not granted him an audience, and I had to send three couriers to call him back! But I recognized his unparalleled genius, and it was for this reason that, despite our arguments, I also entrusted him with painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. A curious anecdote: when Michelangelo was working on Moses, he learned that I had gone to see the work in his absence. Out of spite, he covered the statue and refused to show me the progress for weeks! Only I could tolerate such behavior from an artist, as I understood that genius has its quirks. Now, let's return to the main nave and head towards the first chapel on the right, where another extraordinary work by Michelangelo is located: the Pietà, sculpted when he was just twenty-four years old.

Michelangelo's Pietà

Here we are in front of the Pietà, a work that Michelangelo sculpted when he was only 24 years old, before my pontificate. It is the only work the artist ever signed. Look here, on the band across the Madonna's chest: "MICHAELA[N]GELVS BONAROTVS FLORENT[INVS] FACIEBAT". It is said that Michelangelo, upon hearing some visitors attributing the work to other sculptors, sneaked into the basilica at night to carve his name. Observe the technical perfection of this marble: the softness of the drapery, the serene expression of Mary, the relaxed body of Christ. The Virgin appears strangely young compared to her thirty-year-old son. When Michelangelo was questioned about this discrepancy, he replied, "Do you not know that chaste women maintain their freshness for a long time? How much more a virgin in whom the slightest lascivious desire that could alter her body has never arisen?" During my pontificate, I had numerous clashes with Michelangelo, but I never doubted his genius. Initially, I called him to Rome for my tomb, but then I forced him to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, a task he accepted reluctantly. He always complained about being a sculptor, not a painter. Yet, what a marvel he created! In 1972, this statue was severely damaged by a mentally disturbed man who struck it with a hammer, claiming to be Jesus Christ. Since then, it has been protected by bulletproof glass. An interesting fact: during the restoration, an "M" was discovered engraved on the palm of the Madonna, the interpretation of which remains mysterious. From here, if you look up, you can glimpse the majestic dome, whose original design was conceived by Michelangelo, although completed only after his death. Let us now head towards the transept, from where we can admire it better and understand the genius of its conception.

Michelangelo's Dom

Raise your gaze, my friends, and behold the majestic dome, one of the largest in the world! When Bramante and I began designing the new basilica, we dreamed of a dome that would rival those of the Pantheon and the Florence Cathedral. We wanted it to dominate Rome and be visible from miles away. But neither Bramante nor I lived long enough to see this vision realized. It was Michelangelo, by then in his seventies, who took up the dome's project in 1547, more than thirty years after my death. He created a wooden model that is still preserved in the basilica's museum today. However, the dome was only completed in 1590 by Giacomo della Porta, who slightly modified the original design to make it more slender. The dome rises 136 meters from the basilica's floor, with a diameter of 42 meters. It is supported by four massive pillars, each with a niche where statues of saints are placed: Longinus, Helena, Veronica, and Andrew. Inside the pillars are spiral staircases that allow access to the dome itself. There is a fascinating anecdote related to the dome's construction. During the work, the laborers would stop whenever the city's bells rang the Angelus. Once, a carpenter fell from the dizzying height. As he plummeted, he invoked the Madonna, and miraculously bounced off a pile of sand, surviving with only a few bruises. In gratitude, he donated an ex-voto that is still visible in the Vatican Grottoes. If you look closely at the inner base of the dome, you will notice an inscription in golden letters on a blue background: "TU ES PETRUS ET SUPER HANC PETRAM AEDIFICABO ECCLESIAM MEAM ET TIBI DABO CLAVES REGNI CAELORUM" (You are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my Church, and I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven). It is a clear reference to the apostle on whose tomb this basilica stands. Now, if you follow me, we will descend to the Vatican Grottoes, where we can see the remains of the ancient Constantinian basilica and the tombs of numerous pontiffs, including my modest temporary burial before I was transferred to San Pietro in Vincoli.

The Vatican Grottoes

We are now in the Vatican Grottoes, the space between the floor of the current basilica and that of the ancient Constantinian church. Here, you can feel the millennial history of the Church. When I ordered the demolition of the old basilica, I insisted that the floor level be maintained the same, so as not to disturb the numerous tombs of popes and illustrious figures buried there. In these grottoes rest the remains of many of my predecessors and successors. Notice how, despite the temporal power we wielded in life, death has made us all equal. I too was temporarily buried here before my body was transferred to the tomb prepared by Michelangelo in San Pietro in Vincoli. Observe these fragments of frescoes and mosaics: they are what remains of the decoration of the ancient basilica. Some date back to the 4th century, the time of Constantine. When I gave the order to demolish the old church, many accused me of sacrilege. Cardinal Caraffa, who later became Pope Paul IV, was among the most fervent opponents. "How can you destroy such a holy place?" he asked me. I replied, "I am not destroying it, I am renewing it to make it even more glorious." An interesting fact: during the demolition work, numerous ancient pagan burials were discovered, as the area was previously occupied by a Roman necropolis. Among these, a porphyry sarcophagus was uncovered, thought to contain the remains of Emperor Otto II. I used it for my temporary burial, demonstrating how in death different eras can unite. Look over there, that door leads to the Confession, the exact point where the tomb of the Apostle Peter is located. Tradition tells that Emperor Constantine, when he decided to build the first basilica, constructed a monument in the form of a small shrine, called a "trophy," directly above the apostle's tomb. Archaeological excavations of the last century have confirmed the antiquity of these burials. Let us now follow this gallery that will lead us back up, to see up close the Confession and the papal altar, the spiritual pinnacle of this basilica.

The Tomb of Saint Peter and the Confessio

Here we are finally at the spiritual heart of the entire basilica: the Confession and the papal altar, located directly above the tomb of the apostle Peter. Everything I have had built, all the magnificence that surrounds us, has one purpose: to honor the first bishop of Rome, the one to whom Christ himself entrusted the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. This "confession" (from the Latin "confessio," confession of faith) is the point where pilgrims have come for centuries to pray near the apostle's relics. The balustrade is surrounded by 89 lamps that are always lit, symbolizing the Church's perpetual faith. When I ordered the construction of the new basilica, my main concern was to preserve this sacred place. In 1939, Pope Pius XII authorized archaeological excavations under the papal altar. What was discovered confirmed the tradition: a Roman necropolis, and at a particular point, an ancient commemorative shrine dating back to the 2nd century, exactly where tradition placed Peter's tomb. In 1968, human remains were identified as compatible with those of a robust elderly man. Pope Paul VI announced that the relics of Saint Peter had been found "so that we can consider it proven." An anecdote that few know: when the work for the new basilica began, the old papal altar had to be dismantled. I personally ordered that each stone be numbered and cataloged so that it could be reconstructed exactly as it had been for centuries. Such was my respect for tradition, despite my reputation as an innovator. Above the Confession stands the papal altar, topped by Bernini's baldachin that we have already admired. Only the Pope can celebrate Mass on this altar, except by special permission. From here, the Pontiff addresses the assembly facing west, as in the tradition of ancient Roman basilicas. My friends, our visit is coming to an end. We have journeyed together through the history of this basilica, from its conception to its final realization, well beyond my earthly time. I hope you have understood not only the architectural grandeur of this place but also its profound spiritual significance.

Conclusion and Farewell

We have reached the end of our journey together. The basilica you see today is the result of over a century of work and the ingenuity of multiple artists and architects. My dream has evolved through the hands of Bramante, Raphael, Michelangelo, Maderno, Bernini, and many others. Each added their own touch, but the essence remained what Bramante and I had envisioned: a monumental temple worthy of the prince of the apostles. When I began this endeavor in 1506, I knew I would not see it completed. Yet, like the great builders of medieval cathedrals, I was certain that my name would remain linked to this colossal work. It wasn't vanity—or perhaps a little—but mainly the desire to leave an indelible mark of the greatness of the Church and faith. During my pontificate, I fought many battles, conquered territories, and commissioned extraordinary works of art, but nothing matches the importance of this basilica. While territorial conquests have faded, this building continues to inspire millions of pilgrims every year. I leave you with a thought: look once more at the space around you, feel the presence of centuries of history and faith. In an era of rapid changes like yours, places like this remind us that some things transcend time. If you have further questions or curiosities, remember that you can activate the virtual tour guide based on artificial intelligence at any time. It will accompany you with insights and details that perhaps I myself, with my knowledge limited to my time, could not provide you. I, Julius II, bid you farewell. May God bless you and may the example of the apostle Peter guide you on your path of faith.