POMPEII.

To every traveler through the southern part of Europe, Pompeii and

Herculaneum are, of course, the objects of earliest attention and

deepest interest. The tragic story of these buried towns is now familiar

to most intelligent persons; while the vivid romance of Bulwer makes one

feel as if he had known the inhabitants, and almost as though he had

been a witness of the catastrophe. The story is recorded not more

faithfully by the younger Pliny, in his celebrated letter to Tacitus,

than it is plainly read in the material evidence, whose unexpected

discovery, almost in our own day, has supplied both to the antiquarian

and the geologist, most valued and truthful evidences; contemporary

records, expounding to the antiquary an interesting chapter of human

history, filled with the minutest details of personal interest, and to

the geologist, the close of one and the commencement of another of those

great cycles of change, whose history, strangely connected in this

instance with the vicissitudes of his own race, engrosses his delighted

attention.

A great and rich town, which, after sleeping eighteen centuries in its

deep and dark grave, is again shone on by the sun, and stands among

other cities as much a stranger to them as any one of its former

inhabitants would be among men of the present day, is surely one of the

wonders of the world; and such is Pompeii. The distance from Naples to

Pompeii, is little more than ten English miles. Near the Torre

dell’Annunziata, to the left, and amid hills planted with vineyards, the

town itself, which, throwing off its shroud of ashes, came forth from

its grave, breaks on the view. The buildings are without roofs, which

are supposed to have been destroyed by the lava, or torn off by the

hurricane which preceded it. The tracks of the wheels which anciently

rolled over the pavement are still visible. An elevated path runs by the

side of the houses, for foot-passengers; and, to enable them in rainy

weather to pass more commodiously to the opposite side, large flat

stones, three of which take up the width of the road, were laid at a

distance from each other. As the carriages, in order to avoid these

stones, were obliged to use the intermediate spaces, the tracks of the

wheels are there most visible. The whole of the pavement is in good

condition: it consists merely of considerable pieces of lava, which,

however, are not cut as at present into squares, and may have been on

that account the more durable.

The part which was first cleared, is supposed to have been the main

street of Pompeii; but this is much to be doubted, as the houses on both

sides, with the exception of a few, were evidently the habitations of

common citizens, and were small and provided with booths. The street

itself likewise is narrow: two carriages only could go abreast; and it

is very uncertain whether it ran through the whole of the town; for,

from the spot where the moderns discontinued digging, to that where they

recommenced, and where the same street is supposed to have been again

found, a wide tract is covered with vineyards, which may perhaps occupy

the places of the most splendid streets and markets, still concealed

underneath.

Among the objects which attract particular attention, is a booth in

which liquors were sold; the marble table within which, bears the marks

of the cups left by the drinkers. Next to this is a house, the threshold

of which is inlaid with a salutation in black stone, as a token of

hospitality. On entering the habitations, the visitor is struck by the

strangeness of their construction. The middle of the house forms a

square, something like the cross passages of a cloister, often

surrounded by pillars: it is cleanly, and paved with party-colored

mosaic, which has an agreeable effect. In the middle is a cooling well,

and on each side a little chamber, about ten or twelve feet square, but

lofty, and painted with a fine red or yellow. The floor is of mosaic;

and the door is made generally to serve as a window, there being but one

apartment which receives light through a thick blue glass. Many of these

rooms are supposed to have been bed-chambers, because there is an

elevated, broad step, on which the bed may have stood, and because some

of the pictures appear most appropriate to a sleeping-room. Others are

supposed to have been dressing-rooms, from the fact that on the walls a

Venus is described decorated by the Graces, added to which, little

flasks and boxes of various descriptions have been found in them. The

larger of these apartments served for dining-rooms, and in some are

suitable accommodations for cold and hot baths.

The manner in which a whole room was heated, is particularly curious.

Against the usual wall a second was erected, standing at a little

distance from the first. For this purpose large square tiles were taken,

having, like modern tiles, a sort of hook, thus keeping the first wall

as it were off from them: a hollow space was thus left all around, from

the top to the bottom, into which pipes were introduced, that carried

the warmth into the chamber, and as it were rendered the whole of the

place one stove. The ancients were also attentive to avoid the vapor or

smell from their lamps. In some houses there is a niche made in the wall

for the lamp, with a little chimney in the form of a funnel, through

which the smoke escaped. Opposite to the house-door the largest room is

placed: it is properly a sort of hall, for it has only three walls,

being quite open in the fore part. The side rooms have no connection

with each other, but are divided off in little cells, the door of each

leading to a fountain.

Most of the houses consist of one such square, surrounded by rooms. In a

few, some decayed steps seem to have led to an upper story, which is no

longer in existence. Some habitations, however, probably belonging to

the richer and more fashionable, are far more spacious. In these, a

first court is often connected with a second, and even with a third, by

passages: in other respects their arrangements are similar to those

above described. Many garlands of flowers and vine-branches, and many

handsome pictures, are still to be seen on the walls. The guides were

formerly permitted to sprinkle these pictures with fresh water, in the

presence of travelers, and thus revive their former splendor for a

moment: but this is now strictly forbidden; and, indeed, not without

reason, since the frequent watering might at length totally rot away the

wall.

One of the houses belonged to a statuary, whose workshop is still full

of the vestiges of his art. Another appears to have been inhabited by a

surgeon, whose profession is equally evident from the instruments

discovered in his chamber. A large country-house near the gate,

undoubtedly belonged to a very wealthy man, and would, in fact, still

invite inhabitants within its walls. It is very extensive, stands

against a hill, and has many stories. Its finely decorated rooms are

unusually spacious; and it has airy terraces, from which you look down

into a pretty garden, that has been now again planted with flowers. In

the middle of this garden is a large fishpond, and near that an ascent

from which, on two sides, six pillars descend. The hinder pillars are

the highest, the middle somewhat lower, and the front the lowest: they

appear, therefore, rather to have propped a sloping roof, than to have

been destined for an arbor. A covered passage, resting on pillars,

incloses the garden on three sides; it was painted, and probably served

in rainy weather as an agreeable walk. Beneath is a fine arched cellar,

which receives air and light by several openings from without;

consequently its atmosphere is so pure, that in the hottest part of

summer it is always refreshing. A number of _amphoræ_, or large

wine-vessels, are to be seen here, still leaning against the wall, as

the butler left them when he carried up the last goblet of wine for his

master. Had the inhabitants of Pompeii preserved these vessels with

stoppers, wine might still have been found in them; but as it was, the

stream of ashes running in, of course forced out the wine. More than

twenty human skeletons of fugitives, who thought to save themselves here

under ground, but who must have experienced a tenfold more cruel death

than those suffered who were in the open air, were found in this cellar.

The destiny of the Pompeians must have been dreadful. It was not a

stream of fire that encompassed their abodes: they could then have

sought refuge in flight. Neither did an earthquake swallow them up;

sudden suffocation would then have spared them the pangs of a lingering

death. _But a rain of ashes buried them alive_ BY DEGREES! Hear the

delineation of Pliny: “A darkness suddenly overspread the country; not

like the darkness of a moonless night; but like that of a closed room,

in which the light is of a sudden extinguished. Women screamed, children

moaned, men cried. Here, children were anxiously calling their parents;

and there, parents were seeking their children, or husbands their wives;

all recognized each other only by their cries. The former lamented their

own fate, and the latter that of those dearest to them. Many wished for

death, from the fear of dying. Many called on the gods for assistance:

others despaired of the existence of the gods, and thought this the last

eternal night of the world. Actual dangers were magnified by unreal

terrors. The earth continued to shake, and men, half-distracted, to reel

about, exaggerating their own fears, and those of others, by terrifying

predictions.”

Such is the frightful but true picture which Pliny gives us of the

horrors of those who were, however, far from the extremity of their

misery. But what must have been the feelings of the Pompeians, when the

roaring of the mountain and the quaking of the earth, awaked them from

their first sleep? They also attempted to escape the wrath of the gods;

and, seizing the most valuable things they could lay their hands upon in

the darkness and confusion, endeavored to seek their safety in flight.

In this street, and in front of the house marked with the friendly

salutation on its threshold, seven skeletons were found: the first

carried a lamp, and the rest had still between the bones of their

fingers something that they wished to save. On a sudden they were

overtaken by the storm which descended from heaven, and buried in the

grave thus made for them. Before the above mentioned country-house, was

still a male skeleton, standing with a dish in his hand; and, as he wore

on his finger one of those rings which were allowed to be worn by Roman

knights only, he is supposed to have been the master of the house, who

had just opened the back garden gate with the intent of flying, when the

shower overwhelmed him. Several skeletons were found in the very posture

in which they had breathed their last, without having been forced by the

agonies of death to drop the things they had in their hands. This leads

to a conjecture, that the thick mass of ashes must have come down all at

once, in such immense quantities as instantly to cover them. It can not

otherwise be imagined how the fugitives could all have been fixed, as it

were by a charm, in their position; in which manner their destiny was

the less dreadful, seeing that Death suddenly converted them into

motionless statues, and thus was stripped of all the horrors with which

the fears of the sufferers had clothed him in imagination. But what then

must have been the pitiable condition of those who had taken refuge in

the buildings and cellars! Buried in the thickest darkness, they were

secluded from everything but lingering torment; and who can paint to

himself without shuddering, a slow dissolution approaching, amid all the

agonies of body and of mind? The soul recoils from the contemplation of

such images.

To proceed now to the public edifices. The temple of Isis is still

standing, with its Doric pillars, and its walls painted with emblems of

the service of the deity, such as the hippopotamus, cocoa-blossom, ibis,

&c. A view of it is given in the cut. The sacred vessels, lamps and

tables of Isis, are still to be seen. From a little chapel within, a

poisonous vapor is said to have formerly arisen, which the heathen

priests may have used for every species of deception. This vapor is said

to have increased after the violent eruption of Vesuvius; but it has not

latterly given out the slightest smell. A small Grecian temple, of which

only two pillars remain, had been probably already destroyed by an

earthquake, which, in the reign of Titus, preceded the dreadful

irruption of the volcano. On the opposite side of this temple there is

still an edifice, called the quarters of the soldiers, because all sorts

of arms, pictures of soldiers, and a skeleton in chains, were found

there. By others it has been considered as the forum of Pompeii.

[Illustration: TEMPLE OF ISIS AT POMPEII.]

Two theaters, the smaller one particularly, are in an excellent state of

preservation. The structure of this one is such as was usually adopted

by the ancients, and is better arranged than some of modern

construction, as it affords the spectators commodious seats, a free view

of the stage, and facility of hearing. Although sufficiently large to

contain two thousand persons, the plebeians, standing in a broad gallery

at the top, were quite as able to see all that was passing on the stage,

as the magistrate in his marble balcony. In this gallery the

arrangements for spreading the sail-cloth over the spectators are still

visible. The stage itself is very broad, as it has no side walls; and

appears less deep than it really is. A wall runs across it, and cuts off

just as much room as is necessary for the accommodation of the

performers. But this wall has three very broad doors; the middle one is

distinguished by its hight, and the space behind it is still deeper than

in front. If these doors, as may be conjectured, always stood open, the

stage was in fact large, and afforded besides the advantage of being

able to display a double scenery: if, for example, the scene in front

was that of a street, there might have been behind a free prospect into

the open field.

The cemetery lies before the gate of the high road. The tomb of the

priestess Mammea is very remarkable: it was erected, according to the

epitaph, by virtue of a decree of the decemvirs. In the midst of little

boxes of stone, in square piles, and on a sort of altar, the family urns

were placed in niches; and without these piles the broken masks are

still to be seen. In front of the cemetery, by the road-side, is a

beautiful seat, forming a semicircle, that will contain twenty or thirty

persons. It was probably overshaded by trees eighteen hundred years ago;

under which the women of Pompeii sat in the cool evenings, while their

children played before them, and viewed the crowds which were passing

through the gate.

To the above particulars from the pen of the elegant and lively

Kotzebue, the following details, given by a later and accurate traveler,

are subjoined. The entrance into Pompeii is by a quadrangular court; and

this court is surrounded on every side by a colonnade which supports the

roof of a gallery; and the latter leads to several small apartments, not

unlike the cells of a prison. The columns are of brick, stuccoed over,

and painted of a deep red: they are in hight from ten to twelve feet,

are placed at about a like distance from each other, and are of the

Doric order, fluted two-thirds from the top, and well proportioned.

After a variety of conjectures relative to the purpose to which this

building was applied, it has been ascertained that it was either a

barrack for soldiers, (various pieces of armor having been found in some

of the cells,) or the prætorium of the governor, where a body of

military must have been stationed. Adjacent to it stood the theaters,

the forum, and one or two temples, all connected by very neat and

well-paved courts. The smaller of the theaters is to the right, and is

called the covered theater, because it was so constructed, that by the

means of canvas awnings, the spectators were defended from the sun and

rain. A door through the wall leads to the different galleries, and to

the open space in the center, resembling the pit of a modern theater.

The interior is beautifully neat; and with the exception of the

spoliation of the marble slabs, removed to the palace at Naples, with

which the whole of the inside, not excepting the seats, had been

covered, it is in excellent preservation. On each side are the seats for

the magistrates; the orchestra, as in modern theaters, is in front of

the stage; and the latter, with its brick wings, is very shallow. This

theater was calculated to contain about two thousand spectators. From

its level a staircase leads to an eminence on which several public

buildings are situated. The most conspicuous of these is a small temple

said to have been dedicated to Isis, and having a secret passage,

perforated in two places, whence the priests are supposed to have

delivered to the deluded multitude the oracles of that deity.

Within a paved court is an altar, of a round shape, on the one side, and

on the other side a well. A cistern, with four apertures, was placed at

a small distance, to facilitate the procuring of water. In this court,

sacrifices and other holy rites are conjectured to have taken place,

various utensils for sacrifice, such as lamps, tripods, &c., having been

found, when the place was first excavated. One of the tripods is of the

most admirable workmanship. On each of the three legs, a beautiful

sphinx, with an unusual head-dress, is placed, probably in allusion to

the hidden meanings of the oracles which were delivered in the

above-mentioned temple. The hoop in which the basin for the coals was

sunk, is elegantly decorated with rams’ heads connected by garlands of

flowers; and within the basin, which is of baked earth, the very cinders

left from the last sacrifice (nearly two thousand years ago) are seen as

fresh as if they had been the remains of yesterday’s fire!

From the above court, you enter on a somewhat larger, with a stone

pulpit in the center and stone seats near the walls. The spot,

therefore, was either the auditory of a philosopher, or the place where

the public orators pleaded in the presence of the people. Everything

here is in the highest order and preservation.

The great amphitheater proudly rears its walls over every other edifice

on the same elevated spot. It is a stupendous structure, and has

twenty-four rows of seats, the circumference of the lowest of which is

about seven hundred and fifty feet. It is estimated to have contained

about thirty thousand spectators. The upper walls are much injured,

having partially projected above ground long before the discovery of

Pompeii.

A corn-field leads to the excavated upper end of the high street, which

consists of a narrow road for carts, with foot-pavements on each side.

The middle is paved with large blocks of marble, and the ruts of the

wheels proclaim its antiquity, even at the time of its being

overwhelmed. The foot-paths are elevated about a foot and a half from

the level of the carriage-road. The houses on each side, whether shops

or private buildings, have no claim to external elegance: they consist

of a ground-floor only, and, with the exception of the door, have no

opening toward the street. The windows of the private houses look into

an inner square court, and are in general very high. The apartments

themselves are, with the exception of one in each house, which probably

served as a drawing-room, both low and diminutive. In point of

decoration they are neat, and, in many instances, elegant: the floors

generally consist of figured pavements, either in larger stones of

various colors, regularly cut and systematically disposed, or are formed

of a beautiful mosaic, with a fanciful border, and an animal or figure

in the center. The geometrical lines and figures in the design of the

borders, have an endless variety of the most pleasing shapes, to display

the fertile imagination of the artists. Their tesselated pavements alone

must convince us that the ancients were well skilled in geometry. The

ground is usually white, and the ornaments black; but other colors are

often employed with increased effect.

The walls of the apartments are equally (if not still more) deserving

attention. They are painted, either in compartments, exhibiting some

mythological or historical event, or simply colored over with a light

ground, adorned with a border and perhaps an elegant little vignette, in

the center or at equal distances. But few of the historical paintings

now exist in Pompeii; for wherever a wall was found to contain a

tolerable picture, it was removed and deposited in the museum at Naples.

To effect this, the greatest care and ingenuity were required, so as to

peel off, by the means of sawing pieces of wall, twenty and more square

feet in extent, without destroying the picture. This, however, was not a

modern invention; for, among the excavated remains of Stabiæ, the

workmen came to an apartment containing paintings which had been

separated by the ancients themselves from a wall, with the obvious

intent of their being introduced in another place. This was, however,

prevented by the ruin of the city; and the paintings, therefore, were

found leaning against the wall of the apartment.

Another excavated portion of Pompeii is likewise part of a street, and,

being perfectly in a line with the one already described, is conjectured

to be a continuation, or rather the extremity of the latter; in which

case Pompeii must have been a city of considerable importance, and its

main street nearly a mile in length. The houses here, as in the other

instance, are distributed into shops and private dwellings, some of the

latter of which are distinguished by the remains of former internal

elegance, such as tesselated pavements, painted walls, &c.: most of them

have likewise an interior court, surrounded by apartments.