Mount Etna--Its Appearance and Height-Ancient Eruptions-Pindar's
Allusion--Virgil's Description--Subordinate Cones and
Craters--Caverns--Val del Bove--Formation of Monti Rossi--Eruption
of 1852--Whirlwinds--Lava Torrents--Cascades of Lava--Description
of Crater --Empedocles--Enceladus--Craters of 1865-Cyclopean
Isles--Homer's Legend-Volcanic Origin--Other Basaltic Groups
Mount Etna may well be called the Queen of European Volcanoes, so
majestic does she look, with her lofty summit glistening in the
sunbeams white with snow, yet pouring forth volumes of vapour. This
mountain, as you will observe from the annexed woodcut, is
altogether more massive in its appearance than Vesuvius. It is
about three times higher, rising to nearly eleven thousand feet
above the level of the sea, and it has a circuit of about
eighty-seven miles at its base.
Etna has been a volcano from time immemorial; but of its more
ancient eruptions only vague traditions have survived. The Greek
poet Pindar is the earliest writer who makes mention of its
activity. He refers to it in his first Pythian Ode, Strophe B, 1.
1. The passage is thus rendered by Carey--
"From whose caverned depths aspire,
In purest folds upwreathing, tost
Fountains of approachless fire--
by day a flood of smouldering smoke
With sullen gleam the torrents pour"
[Illustration: Mount Etna.]
The ode in which this allusion occurs is said to have been written
about B.C. 470; and the eruption to which it refers probably took
place shortly before that date.
Virgil also describes the mountain very forcibly in the Æneid,
lib. iii. 570. Dryden renders the passage thus:--
"The port capacious, and secure from wind,
Is to the foot of thund'ring Etna joined.
By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high:
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly,
And flakes of mounting flames, that lick the sky.
Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown,
And shivered by the force come piece-meal down.
Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow,
Fed from the fiery springs that boil below."
Since the one to which Pindar alludes, there have been recorded
about sixty eruptions; but in the present century Etna has been
less frequently active than Vesuvius.
Owing to the great height of Mount Etna, the lava seldom rises so
far as to flow from the summit. It more frequently bursts forth
from the flanks of the mountain; and in this manner there have been
formed numerous smaller cones, of which several have craters of
their own. Hence Etna is rather a group of volcanoes than a single
cone; but all these subordinate volcanic hills cluster round the
flanks of the great central summit. Etna may thus be regarded as a
fertile mother of mountains, with all her children around her. Some
of these hills, her offspring, are covered with forests and rich
vegetation--such having enjoyed a lasting repose. Others are still
arid and bare, having been more recently formed. Owing to this
peculiarity in its structure, Etna does not present that conical
aspect which characterizes most other volcanoes. Strange as it may
seem, there are, on the sides of the mountain, caverns which the
Sicilians use for storing ice. Some of these caverns are of vast
extent. One called Fossa della Palomba measures, at its entrance,
625 feet in circumference, and has a depth of about 78 feet. This
great cavity, however, forms merely the vestibule to a series of
others, which are perfectly dark.
Another striking feature of Mount Etna is the Val del Bove. It is a
deep valley, presenting, when viewed from above, somewhat of the
appearance of an amphitheatre, It stretches from near the summit
down to the upper limit of the wooded region of the mountain, and
has a remarkably desolate aspect--presenting a vast expanse of bare
and rugged lava.
Of the numerous eruptions of Etna, one of the most memorable was
that of 1669, when on the flank of the mountain above Nicolosi,
about half way between Catania and the top of the great crater,
there was formed an immense rent about twelve miles long, from
which a vast torrent of lava descended. After flowing for several
miles, and destroying a part of Catania in its course, it entered
the sea, and formed a small promontory, which has since proved very
useful as a breakwater. But besides this stream, there were at the
same time thrown up such immense quantities of ashes, cinders,
stones, and other matters, that they formed two conical hills, more
than three hundred feet in height above the slope of the mountain
from which they rose, and measuring nearly two miles in
circumference at their base. These hills were named Monti Rossi.
Mount Etna was in activity as lately as 1865; but a previous
eruption in 1852 was of greater violence. It began, as usual, with
hollow underground rumblings, and the ascent of dense columns of
vapour, mingled with dust and ashes, high into the air. These were
speedily whirled into enormous eddies by fierce whirlwinds. Two new
mouths were formed on the side of the mountain, and these vomited
forth immense streams of lava, which rushed with the vehemence of a
torrent down the steep. The violence of the commotion increasing,
the two mouths were, by the crumbling of the intervening rocks,
blended into one, and then huge fragments of the broken rock were
hurled to a great height, along with vast quantities of hot stones,
cinders, and black sand. Increasing quantities of lava were now
poured from the greatly enlarged opening, and these formed on the
plains below a great river of liquid fire, nearly two miles in
breadth, and between seven and eight feet in depth, which advanced
at the rate of upwards of a hundred feet in an hour, carrying
before it devastation and ruin. Its course being through a highly
cultivated country, the damage it inflicted was immense. This
eruption continued for several months, with only short intervals of
rest.
[Illustration: Crater of Etna.]
It has more than once happened, that the lava-streams of Etna, in
their descent from the crater of eruption, have come to a
precipitous wall of rock, over which they have plunged in a cascade
similar to that formed by the lava of Vesuvius in 1855, but on a
less magnificent scale, as respects the height of the fall. One of
these occasions was during the eruption of 1771, and another during
that of 1819.
The principal cone of Mount Etna was ascended in 1834 by Messrs.
Elie de Beaumont and Leopold von Buch. The former describes what
they saw in the following terms:--"It was to us a moment of
surprise difficult to describe, when we found ourselves
unexpectedly on the margin--not, indeed, of the great crater--but
of an almost circular gulf, nearly three hundred feet in diameter,
which does not touch the great crater save at a small part of its
circumference. We peered eagerly into this nearly cylindrical
funnel; but vain was our search into the secret of its volcanic
action. From the almost horizontal tops of the nearly vertical
steeps, nothing can be descried but the upper cone. On trying to
reckon those one below another, vision becomes gradually lost in
the perfect darkness beneath. No sound issues from this darkness.
There are only exhaled slightly sulphurous white vapours, chiefly
steam. The dismal aspect of this black and silent gulf, in which
our view was lost--its dark moist sides, along which crept, in a
languid and monotonous manner, long flakes of vapour of a sombre
gray--the great crater to which this narrow gulf is attached, with
its confused heap of diverse substances, coloured yellow, gray,
red, like the image of chaos--all presented around us an aspect
quite funereal and sepulchral."
The French geologist, in having escaped from his visit to the
crater with nothing worse than a fit of the vapours, came off
better than Empedocles, the Sicilian philosopher, in the days of
old: for, as the story goes, this inquisitive sage, being very
anxious to have a peep into the crater, and venturing too near,
toppled in altogether, and nothing more was seen of him, except one
of his sandals, which was vomited up by the volcano--thus conveying
to his friends an intimation of the manner of his death.
Some incredulous persons allege that this story has no better
foundation than the fable of the poets, that the giant Enceladus,
son of Titan and Terra, having offended Jupiter, the infuriated god
first felled him with a thunderbolt, and then put Mount Etna as a
sort of extinguisher on the top of him--his restlessness underneath
fully accounting for all the commotions of the mountain.
Soon after the eruption which took place towards the end of January
1865, the craters then opened were visited by M. Fouqué, a French
geologist. At the time of his visit, 10th March, they were seven in
number, and he thus describes their modes of action:--
"The three upper craters produced two or three times a minute,
powerful detonations like thunderclaps. The lower craters, on the
contrary, incessantly gave forth a succession of reports too rapid
to be reckoned. These sounds, although unremitting, were clear and
distinct, the one from the other. I can find no better comparison
for them than the strokes of a hammer falling on an anvil. Had the
ancients heard a similar noise, I can readily conceive whence arose
the idea of their imagining a forge in the centre of Etna, with the
Cyclops for workmen."
Off the eastern coast of Sicily, and not far from Mount Etna, lie
the Cyclopean Isles, of one of which the annexed woodcut gives a
representation. You will observe what a singular appearance it
presents, with its rows of basaltic columns piled one above
another. The other isle is close by, and there is an ancient
tradition that they at one time formed part of the mainland of
Sicily. Homer has a curious story about the manner in which they
became detached. The passage occurs towards the end of the ninth
book of the Odyssey. He tells that, at the time Ulysses visited
Sicily, it was inhabited by the Cyclops, who, as already mentioned,
were said to have had each only one eye, situated in his forehead.
Their king's name was Polyphemus, a huge giant who beguiled Ulysses
and a portion of his crew into a cave, where he killed some of the
crew and devoured them for his supper. Ulysses, fearing his turn
might come next, persuaded Polyphemus to taste some strong wine he
had with him, and filled him so tipsy that he fell fast asleep.
While he was in this state, Ulysses burnt out his one eye with a
red-hot iron. The giant awoke in agony, but Ulysses contrived to
escape from his clutches, and, after getting into his ship, began
taunting and jeering the monster. Thereupon Homer says:--
[Illustration: Cyclopean Isle]
"These words the Cyclops' burning rage provoke:
From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock;
High o'er the billows flew the massy load,
And near the ship came thund'ring on the flood.
It almost brushed the helm, and fell before:
The whole sea shook, and refluent beat the shore."
Pope's _translation_.
The huge missile having thus missed its mark, Ulysses, with great
impudence, renewed his jeers, taunting the giant, and telling him
who it was that had poked out his eye; whereupon Polyphemus invokes
the vengeance of Neptune upon him, and--
"A larger rock then heaving from the plain,
He whirled it round--it rung across the main:
It fell and brushed the stern: the billows roar,
Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore."
Pope's _translation_.
The rocks of which the Cyclopean Isles are composed are entirely of
volcanic origin, and it is far from improbable that they may have
at one time been attached to Sicily, and severed from it by some
great volcanic convulsion. A careful examination of these large
piles of basaltic columns led Dr. Daubeny to the conclusion, that
the lavas from which they have been formed were consolidated under
great pressure, and probably at the bottom of the sea, whence they
have been afterwards upheaved. He also concludes, from certain
appearances, that the two islands were at one time united.
The Cyclopean Isles strongly resemble, in their general aspect, the
well-known Giant's Causeway on the northern coast of Ireland, and
the Isle of Staffa off the western coast of Scotland. The latter,
which, around its whole sea-girt outline, presents ranges of
basaltic columns, some of them disposed in curious fantastic
groups, most nearly resembles the Sicilian pair. These differ from
it chiefly in their having the columns piled in terraces, one above
another. Staffa, however, can boast of a far more striking feature
--the celebrated Cave of Fingal--its stately basaltic columns
inspiring every beholder with admiration, not unmixed with awe,
while its brightly-tinted floor rivals in brilliancy of colouring
the most beautiful mosaics.
In the Island of Iceland, also, there are some remarkable ranges of
basaltic columns. One in particular, named the Ruins of
Dverghamrar, is in the form of a semicircle skirting the sea-coast.
Another group, still more wonderful, forms a curious natural Gothic
arch, surmounted by pinnacles. It is so picturesque that an
architect might study it with advantage, and derive from it
valuable hints in designing the entrance to a cathedral.