solidity, bordering upon heaviness, we are tempted to consider them as
an intermediate link between the Egyptian and Grecian monuments; and the
first attempt to pass from the immense masses of the former, to the
graceful proportions of the latter.”
“On entering the walls,” says Mr. Forsyth, “I felt the religion of the
place. I stood as on sacred ground. I stood amazed at the long obscurity
of its mighty ruins. They can be descried with a glass from Salerno;
the high road of Calabria commands a distant view; the city of Capaccio
looks down upon them, and a few wretches have always lived on the spot;
yet they remain unnoticed by the best Neapolitan antiquaries.”
The FIRST temple[103] that presents itself, to the traveller from
Naples, is the smallest. It consists of six pillars at each end, and
thirteen on each side. The cella occupied more than one-third of the
length, and had a portico of two rows of columns, the shafts and
capitals of which, now overgrown with grass and weeds, encumber the
pavement, and almost fill the area of the temple:—
————The serpent sleeps, and the she-wolf
Suckles her young.
The columns of this temple are thick in proportion to their elevation,
and much closer to each other than they are generally found to be in
Greek temples; “and this,” says Mr. Forsyth, “crowds them advantageously
on the eye, enlarges our idea of the space, and gives a grand and heroic
air to a monument of very moderate dimensions.”
In the open space[104] between the first and second temples, were two
other large buildings, built of the same sort of stone, and nearly of
the same size. Their substructions still remain, encumbered with
fragments of the columns of the entablatures; and so overgrown with
brambles, nettles, and weeds, as scarcely to admit a near inspection.
The SECOND[105], or the Temple of NEPTUNE, is not the largest, but by
far the most massy and imposing of the three: it has six columns in
front and fourteen in length; the angular column to the west, with its
capital, has been struck and partially shivered by lightning. It once
threatened to fall and ruin the symmetry of one of the most perfect
monuments now in existence, but it has been secured by iron cramps. An
inner peristyle of much smaller columns rises in the cella, in two
stories, with only an architrave, which has neither frieze nor cornice
between the columns, which thus almost seem standing, the one on the
capital of the other—a defect in architecture, which is, however,
justified by Vitruvius and the example of the Parthenon. The light
pillars of this interior peristyle, of which some have fallen, rise a
few feet above the exterior cornice and the massy columns of the temple.
Whether you gaze at this wonderful edifice from without or from within,
as you stand on the floor of the cella, which is much encumbered with
heaps of fallen stones and rubbish, the effect is awfully grand. The
utter solitude, and the silence, never broken save by the flight and
screams of the crows and birds of prey, which, your approach may scare
from the cornices and architraves, where they roost in great numbers,
add to the solemn impression, produced by those firm-set and
eternal-looking columns.
The THIRD edifice is the largest[106]. It has nine pillars at the end
and eighteen on the sides. Its size is not its only distinction; a row
of pillars, extending from the middle pillar at one end to the middle
pillar on the other, divides it into equal parts, and it is considered
that though it is now called a temple, it was not one originally. Some
imagine it to have been a Curia, others a Basilica, and others an
Exchange.
These relics stand on the edge of a vast and desolate plain[107], that
extends from the neighbourhood of Salerno nearly to the confines of
Calabria. The approach to them is exceedingly impressive. For miles
scarcely a human habitation is seen, or any living creature, save herds
of buffaloes. And when you are within the lines of the ancient walls of
the town—of the once opulent and magnificent Pæstum—only a miserable
little taverna, or house of entertainment, a barn, and a mean modern
edifice, belonging to the nominal bishop of the place, and nearly always
uninhabited, meet your eye. But there the three ancient edifices rise
before you in the most imposing and sublime manner—they can hardly be
called ruins, they have still such a character of firmness and
entireness. Their columns seem to be rooted in the earth, or to have
grown from it!
“Accustomed as we were[108] to the ancient and modern magnificence of
Rome,” says Stuart, “in regard to the Parthenon, and, by what we had
heard and read, impressed with an advantageous opinion of what we were
to see, we found the image our fancy had preconceived greatly inferior
to the real object.” Yet Wheler, who upon such a subject cannot be
considered as of equal authority with Stuart, says of the monuments of
antiquity yet remaining at Athens,—“I dare prefer them before any place
in the world, _Rome only excepted_.” “If,” continues Dr. Clarke, “there
be upon earth any buildings, which may be fairly brought into a
comparison with the Parthenon, they are the temples of Pæstum in
Lucania. But even these can only be so with reference to their superior
antiquity, to their severe simplicity, and to the perfection of design
visible in their structure. In graceful proportion, in magnificence, in
costliness of materials, in splendid decoration, and in every thing that
may denote the highest degree of improvement to which the Doric style of
architecture ever attained, they are vastly inferior.” This is, at
least, that author’s opinion. Lusieri, however, entertained different
sentiments. Lusieri had resided at Pæstum; and had dedicated to those
buildings a degree of study which, added to his knowledge of the arts,
well qualified him to decide upon a question as to the relative merits
of the Athenian and Posidonian specimens of Grecian architecture. His
opinion is very remarkable. He considered the temples at Pæstum as
examples of a pure style, or, as he termed it, of a more correct and
classical taste. “In these buildings,” said he, “the Doric order
attained a pre-eminence beyond which it never passed; not a stone has
been there placed without some evident and important design; every part
of the structure bespeaks its own essential utility[109].”
“Can there be any doubt,” says Mr. Williams, “that in the temple of
Neptune at Pæstum, the very forms have something within themselves,
calculated to fill the mind with the impression which belongs to the
sublime; whilst, in the temple of Theseus (at Athens), the simple
preservation of its form bespeaks that species of admiration, that
peculiar feeling, which beauty is calculated to draw forth? It required
not age to constitute the one sublime, or the other beautiful. In truth,
their respective characters must have been much more deeply impressed
upon them in their most perfect state, than in the mutilated form in
which they now stand; surrounded by the adventitious attributes with
which antiquity invests every monument of human art.”
Several medals[110] have been found at Pæstum; but they denote a
degeneracy from Grecian skill and elegance, being more clumsily designed
and executed than most coins of Magna Græcia.
The private habitations[111] were unable to resist the dilapidations of
so many ages; but the town wall is almost entire, and incloses an area
of three miles in circumference. In many places it is of the original
height, and built with oblong stones, dug out of the adjacent fields.
They are a red tavertino, formed by a sediment of sulphureous water, of
which a strong stream washes the foot of the walls. It comes from the
mountains, and, spreading itself over a flat, forms pools, where
buffaloes are in summer continually wallowing up to their noses.
These walls are built of huge polyhedric stones[112], which afford some
idea of what has been lately thought the Cyclopean construction. Their
materials, however, are a grey stone, without any mixture of the marble,
granite, and lava, which are held essential to their construction. They
are five, at least[113], and, in some places, twelve feet high. They are
formed of solid blocks of stone, with towers at intervals; the archway
of one gate only, however, stands entire. Considering the materials and
the extent of this rampart, which incloses a space of nearly four miles
round, with the many towers that rose at intervals, and its elevation of
more than forty feet, it must be acknowledged that it was, on the whole,
a work not only of great strength, but of great magnificence.
The material, of which they are built, is the same throughout each of
the temples and common to all. It is an exceedingly hard, but porous and
brittle stone, of a sober brownish-grey colour. It is a curious fact,
that not only the ignorant people on the spot, but Neapolitan
antiquaries also, wonder whence the ancients brought these masses of
curious stone: and yet few things are more certain, than that they found
them on the spot.
The stone of these edifices[114] was probably formed at Pæstum itself,
by the brackish water of the Salso acting on vegetable earth, roots, and
plants; for you can distinguish their petrified tubes in every
column:—and Mr. Macfarlane, who passed a considerable time on the spot,
adds, “The brackish water of the river Salso that runs by the wall of
the town, and in different branches across the plain, has so strong a
petrifying virtue that you can almost follow the operation with the eye.
The waters of the neighbouring Sele (a considerable river—the ancient
Silarus) have in all ages been remarkable for the same quality. In many
places where the soil had been removed, we perceived strata of stone
similar to the stones which compose the temples; and I could almost
venture to say that the substratum of all the plain, from the Sele to
Acropoli, is of the like substance. Curious petrifactions of leaves,
pieces of wood, insects, and other vegetable and animal matters, are
observed in the materials of columns, walls, &c.”
Taking these wonderful objects into view[115], their immemorial
antiquity, their astonishing preservation, their grandeur, or rather
grandiosity, their bold columnar elevation, at once massive and open,
their severe simplicity of design, that simplicity in which art
gradually begins, and to which, after a thousand revolutions of
ornament, it again returns, taking, says Mr. Forsyth, all into one view,
“I do not hesitate to call these the most impressive monuments I ever
beheld on earth.”
[Illustration: POMPEII.]
Within[116] those walls, that once encircled a populous and splendid
city, now rise one cottage, two farm-houses, a villa, and a church. The
remaining space is covered with thick, matted grass, overgrown with
brambles, spreading over the ruins, or buried under yellow, undulating
corn; a few rose-bushes flourish neglected here and there, and still
blossom twice a year;—in May and December. They are remarkable for
their fragrance. Amid these objects and scenes, rural and ordinary, rise
the three temples, like the mausoleums of the ruined city, dark, silent,
and majestic[117].
“Majestic fanes of deities unknown!
Ages have roll’d since here ye stood—alone;—
Since your walls echoed to the sacred choir,
Or blazed your altars sacrificial fire.
And now—the wandering classic pilgrim sees
The wild bird nestling in the sculptured frieze;
Each fluted shaft by desert weeds embraced,
Triglyphs, obscured entablatures defaced;
Sees ill-timed verdure clothe each awful pile,
While Nature lends her melancholy smile;
And misplaced garniture of flowers that shed
Their sweets, as if in mockery of the dead.”—ROGERS.
NO. XIX.—POMPEII.
This city is said to have been built by Hercules; and so called, because
the hero there exhibited a long procession (Pompa) of the captives, he
had taken in Spain, and the head of Geryon, which he had obtained by
conquest.
The Oscans, Cumæans, Etruscans, and Samnites, seem to have been
successive possessors of the district in which the city stood.
Although evidently of Grecian origin, nothing certain is known of its
early history. With many other cities, it underwent various reverses
during the Punic and Social wars of the Romans. It was besieged by
Sylla; and, about the age of Augustus, became a colony; when its history
merges in the more important annals of the Roman Empire.
Pompeii shared the fate of Herculaneum[118].
In the month of February, A. D. 63, the Pompeians were surprised by an
earthquake and eruption, which caused considerable damage. As soon,
however, as the inhabitants had recovered their consternation, they
began to clear away the ruins, and to repair the damage sustained by the
edifices.
After an interval of sixteen years, during which period several shocks
were experienced, on the night of the 29th of August, A. D. 79, a volume
of smoke and ashes issued from the mouth of the crater of Vesuvius with
a tremendous explosion. After rising to a certain height, it extended
itself like a lofty pine; and, assuming a variety of colours, fell and
covered the surrounding country with desolation and dismay.
The inhabitants, terrified by repeated shocks, and breathing an
atmosphere no longer fit to support life, sought refuge in flight; but
were suffocated by the ashes, oppressed by flames of fire, or
overwhelmed by the falling edifices. In this awful time, Pliny the Elder
lost his life.
Pompeii, notwithstanding this, once more rose from its ashes; but was
again overwhelmed in A. D. 471[119].
It would be difficult to decide upon the relative magnitude of Pompeii
and Herculaneum: yet, from the lead it takes in ancient authors, the
former must, in all probability, have been the most populous. Its walls
were once washed by the waves: but the sea has since retired to some
distance. The chief approach from Rome to Pompeii was through Naples
and Herculaneum, along a branch of the Appian way[120].
As you walk round the city walls[121], and see how the volcanic matter
is piled upon it in one heap, it looks as though the hand of man had
purposely buried it, by carrying and throwing over it the volcanic
matter. This matter does not spread in any direction beyond the town,
over the fine plain which gently declines towards the bay of Naples. The
volcanic eruption was so confined in its course or its fall, as to bury
Pompeii, and only Pompeii:—for the showers of ashes and pumice-stone,
which descended in the immediate neighbourhood, certainly made but a
slight difference in the elevation of the plain. When a town has been
buried by lava, like Herculaneum, the process is easily traced. You can
follow the black, hardened lava from the cone of the mountain to the
sea, whose waters it invaded for “many a rood;” and those who have seen
the lava in its liquid state, when it flows on like a river of molten
iron, can conceive at once how it would bury every thing it found in its
way. There is often a confusion of ideas, among those who have not had
the advantage of visiting these interesting places, as to the matter
which covers Pompeii and Herculaneum. They fancy they were both buried
by lava. Herculaneum was so, and the work of excavating there was like
digging in a quarry of very hard stone. The descent into the places,
cleared, is like the descent into a quarry or mine, and you are always
under ground, lighted by torches. But Pompeii[122] was covered by loose
mud, pumice-stone, and ashes; over which, in the course of centuries,
there collected vegetable soil. Beneath this shallow soil, the whole is
very crumbly and easy to dig,—in few spots more difficult than one of
our common gravel-pits. The matter excavated is carried off in carts,
and thrown outside the town; and at times when the labour is carried on
with activity, as cart after cart withdraws with the earth that covered
them, you see houses entire, except their roofs, which have nearly all
fallen in, make their appearance; and, by degrees, a whole street opens
to the sunshine or the shower, just like the streets of any inhabited
neighbouring town. It is curious to observe, as the volcanic matter is
removed, that the houses are built principally of lava, the more ancient
product of the same Vesuvius, whose latter result buried and concealed
Pompeii for so many ages.
It is certainly surprising[123], that this most interesting city should
have remained undiscovered till so late a period, and that antiquaries
and learned men should have so long and materially erred about its
situation. In many places, masses of ruins, portions of the buried
theatres, temples, and houses, were not two feet below the surface of
the soil. The country people were continually digging up pieces of
worked marble, and other antique objects. In several spots they had even
laid open the outer walls of the town; and yet men did not find out what
it was that the peculiar isolated mound of cinders and ashes, earth and
pumice-stone, covered. There is another circumstance which increases the
wonder of Pompeii being so long concealed. A subterranean canal, cut
from the river Sarno, traverses the city, and is seen darkly and
silently gliding under the temple of Isis. This is said to have been cut
towards the middle of the fifteenth century, to supply the contiguous
town of Torre dell’ Annunziata with fresh water; it probably ran
anciently in the same channel; but cutting it, or clearing it, workmen
must have crossed under Pompeii from one side to the other.
In a work, so limited in extent as this, it is utterly impossible to
give any thing like a representation of the various objects to be seen
in the exceedingly curious ruins of this city. We can, therefore, only
give a general outline, and refer the reader to the very beautiful
illustrations, published by Sir William Gell, in 1817 and 1819; and more
especially to those published by the same accomplished antiquary in
1832. Never was there any thing equal, or in any way assimilating to
them, in the world before! The former work contains all that was
excavated up to those years; the latter the topography, edifices, and
ornaments of Pompeii, the result of excavation since 1819.
“Pompeii,” writes Mr. Taylor to M. Ch. Nodier, “has passed near twenty
centuries in the bowels of the earth; nations have trodden above its
site, while its monuments still remained standing, and all their
ornaments untouched. A cotemporary of Augustus, could he return hither,
might say, ‘I greet thee, O my country! my dwelling is the only spot
upon the earth which has preserved its form; an immunity extending even
to the smallest objects of my affection. Here is my couch; there are my
favourite authors. My paintings, also, are still fresh, as when the
ingenious artist spread them over my walls. Come, let us traverse the
town; let us visit the theatre; I recognise the spot where I joined, for
the first time, in the plaudits given to the fine scenes of Terence and
Euripides. Rome is but one vast museum;—Pompeii is _a living
antiquity_.’”
The houses of Pompeii are upon a small scale; generally of one,
sometimes of two stories. The principal apartments are always behind,
inclosing a court, with a portico round it, and a marble cistern in the
middle. The pavements are all mosaic, and the walls are stained with
agreeable colours; the decorations are basso-relievos in stucco, and
paintings in medallion. Marble seems to have been common.
On both sides of the street[124] the houses stand quite in contact with
each other, as in modern times. They are nearly of the same height and
dimensions, being similarly paved and painted. The houses, as we have
before stated, are on a small scale. The principal apartments are always
behind, surrounding a court, with a small piazza about it, and having a
cistern of marble in its centre.
An edifice, supposed to be Sallust’s house, has an unusually showy
appearance. The rooms are painted with the figures of gods and
goddesses, and the floors decorated with marbles and mosaic pavements.
The gates of the city, now visible, are five in number. These are known
by the names of Herculaneum or Naples, Vesuvius, Nola, Sarno, and
Stabiæ[125]. The city was surrounded with walls, the greater portion of
which have also been traced. Its greatest length is little more than
half a mile, and its circuit nearly two miles. It occupied an area of
about one hundred and sixty-one acres. The general figure of the city is
something like that of an egg. There have been excavated about eighty
houses, an immense number of small shops, the public baths, two
theatres, two basilicæ, eight temples, the prison, the amphitheatre,
with other public buildings of less note; and also fountains and tombs.
The streets are paved with large irregular pieces of lava, neatly
dovetailed into each other. This pavement is rutted with the chariot
wheels, sometimes to the depth of one inch and a half. In general, the
streets are so narrow, that they may be crossed at one stride; where
they are of greater breadth, a stepping-stone was placed in the middle
for the convenience of foot passengers. On each side of the street there
is a footpath, the sides of which are provided with curbs, varying from
one foot to eighteen inches high, to prevent the encroachments of the
chariots.
It is well known[126], that amongst the Romans bathing formed part of
every day’s occupation. In the year 1824, the baths of Pompeii were
excavated. They are admirably arranged, spacious, highly decorated, and
superior to any thing of the kind in modern cities. They are,
fortunately, in good preservation, and throw considerable light on what
the ancients have written upon the subject. Various circumstances prove,
that the completion of the baths only a short while preceded the
destruction of the city.
They occupy a considerable space, and are divided into three separate
apartments. One of these was set apart for the fire-places and the
accommodation of the servants, and the other two were each occupied by a
set of baths, one of which was appropriated to the men, and the other to
the women. The apartments and passages are paved with white marble in
mosaic, or alternate white and black squares. The chambers are
ornamented with various devices, and highly finished. Above one thousand
lamps were discovered during the excavation.
There have been two theatres excavated, a large and a small one; both of
which display the remains of considerable magnificence. They are
constructed after the usual plan of a Roman theatre. The theatre is
formed upon the side of a hill, the corridor being the highest part, so
that the audience, on entering, descended at once to their seats. There
is space to contain about five thousand persons. This theatre appears to
have been entirely covered with marble, although only a few fragments
remain.
The smaller theatre nearly resembles the larger one in plan and
disposition of parts; but there is this remarkable difference;—it
appears from an inscription to have been permanently roofed. It has been
computed that it accommodated one thousand five hundred persons.
The amphitheatre of Pompeii does not differ in any particular from other
Roman buildings of the same kind. Its form is oval; its length is four
hundred and thirty feet; and its greatest breadth three hundred and
thirty-five feet. There were paintings in fresco—one, representing a
tigress fighting with a wild boar; another, a stag chased by a lioness;
another, a battle between a bull and a bear. There were other
representations besides these; but the whole disappeared upon exposure
to the atmosphere[127].
Adjoining to the theatre[128], a building has been excavated, called,
from the style of its architecture, the Greek temple; otherwise, the
temple of Hercules. The date of its erection some have supposed to be as
far back as eight hundred years before the Christian era. It is in a
very dilapidated state. Before the steps in front there is an inclosure,
supposed to have been a pen to contain victims for the sacrifice; and by
its side there are two altars.