Naples.
I have made several visits to the museum at Portici, principally, as you
may believe, to view the antiquities dug out of Herculaneum and Pompeia.
The work publishing by Government, ornamented with engravings of the
chief articles of this curious collection, will, in all probability,
be continued for many years, as new articles worthy of the sculptor’s
art are daily discovered, and as a vast mine of curiosities is supposed
to be concealed in the unopened streets of Pompeia. Among the ancient
paintings, those which ornamented the theatre of Herculaneum are more
elegant than any that have hitherto been found at Pompeia. All those
paintings were executed upon the stucco which lined the walls; they have
been sawed off with great labour and address, and are now preserved in
glass cases; the colours, we are told, were much brighter before they
were drawn out of their subterraneous abode, and exposed to the open air;
they are, however, still wonderfully lively: the subjects are understood
at the first glance by those who are acquainted with the Grecian history
and mythology. There is a Chiron teaching Achilles to play on the lyre,
Ariadne deserted, the Judgment of Paris, some Bacchantes and Fauns; the
largest piece represents Theseus’s victory over the Minotaur. It consists
of seven or eight figures very well grouped, but a Frieze, with a dancing
woman, on a black ground, not above ten inches long, is thought the best.
We ought not, however, to judge of the progress which the ancients had
made in the art of painting, by the degree of perfection which appears in
those pictures. It is not probable that the best paintings of ancient
Greece or Italy were at Herculaneum; and, if it could be ascertained
that some of the productions of the best matters were there, it would
not follow that those which have been discovered are of that class. If
a stranger were to enter at random a few houses in London, and see some
tolerably good pictures there, he could not with propriety conclude that
the best of them were the very best in London. The paintings brought
from Herculaneum are perfect proofs that the ancients had made that
progress in the art, which those pictures indicate; but do not form
even a presumption, that they had not made a much greater. It is almost
demonstrable that these paintings are not of their best. The same school
which formed the sculptor to correctness, would form the painter to
equal correctness in his drawings, however deficient he might be in all
the other parts of his art. Their best statues are correct in their
proportions, and elegant in their forms: These paintings are not correct
in their proportions, and are comparatively inelegant in their forms.
Among the statues, the drunken Faun and the Mercury are the best. There
are some fine bronze busts; the intaglios and cameos, which hitherto have
been found either in Herculaneum or Pompeia, are reckoned but indifferent.
The elegance of form, with the admirable workmanship, of the ornamental
furniture and domestic utensils, in silver and other metals; the variety
and beauty of the lamps, tripods, and vases; sufficiently testify,
if there were no other proofs, the fertile imagination and exquisite
execution of the ancient artists. And, had their own poets and historians
been quite silent concerning the Roman refinements in the art of cookery,
and the luxury of their tables; the prodigious variety of culinary
instruments, the moulds for jellies, for confections, and pastry, which
are collected in this museum, would afford a strong presumption that
the great men of our own days have a nearer resemblance to those ancient
conquerors of the world, than is generally imagined.
Many of the ancient manuscripts found at Herculaneum have been carried
to Madrid; but a great number still remain at Portici. Great pains
have been bestowed, and much ingenuity displayed, in separating and
unrolling the sheets, without destroying the writing. This has succeeded
in a certain degree; though, in spite of all the skill and attention
of those who are employed in this very delicate work, the copiers are
obliged to leave many blanks where the letters are obliterated. The
manuscripts hitherto unrolled and copied, are in the Greek language,
and not of a very important nature. As the unrolling those papers must
take up a great deal of time, and requires infinite address, it is to
be wished that his Neapolitan Majesty would send one at least to every
university in Europe, that the abilities of the most ingenious men of
every country might be exercised on a subject so universally interesting.
The method which should be found to succeed best, might be immediately
made known, and applied to the unfolding of the remaining manuscripts.
The probability of recovering those works, whose loss the learned have so
long lamented, would by this means be greatly increased.
Herculaneum and Pompeia were destroyed by the same eruption of Mount
Vesuvius, about seventeen hundred years ago. The former was a town
of much more magnificence than the other; but it is infinitely more
difficult to be cleared of the matter which covers it. Sir William
Hamilton, in his accurate and judicious observations on Mount Vesuvius,
asserts, that there are evident marks that the matter of six eruptions
has taken its course over this devoted town, since the great explosion
which involved it in the same fate with Pompeia. These different
eruptions have all happened at considerable distances of time from each
other. This appears by the layers of good soil which are found between
them. But the matter which immediately covers the town, and with which
the theatre, and all the houses hitherto examined, were found filled,
is not lava, but a sort of soft stone, composed of pumice and ashes,
intermixed with earth. This has saved the pictures, manuscripts, busts,
utensils, and other antiquities, which have been recovered out of
Herculaneum, from utter destruction. For if any of the six succeeding
eruptions had happened previous to this, and the red-hot liquid lava, of
which they consisted, had flowed into the open city, it would have filled
every street, scorched up every combustible substance with intense heat,
involving the houses, and all they contained, in one solid rock of lava,
undistinguishable, and for ever inseparable, from it. The eruption,
which buried the city in cinders, earth, and ashes, has in some measure
preserved it from the more destructive effects of the fiery torrents
which have overwhelmed it since.
When we consider that the intervals between those eruptions were
sufficiently long to allow a soil to be formed upon the hardened lava
of each; that a new city has been actually built on the lava of the
last eruption; and that the ancient city is from seventy to one hundred
feet below the present surface of the earth; we must acknowledge it
more surprising that any, than that so few, of its ornaments have been
recovered. At the beginning of the present century, any body would have
imagined that the busts, statues and pictures of Herculaneum had not a
much better chance, than the persons they represent, of appearing again,
within a few years, upon the surface of this globe.
The case is different with regard to Pompeia. Though it was not
discovered till about twenty-five years ago, which is forty years almost
after the discovery of Herculaneum, yet the probability was greatly in
favour of its being discovered sooner, for Pompeia has felt the effects
of a single eruption only; it is not buried above twelve feet below the
surface of the ground, and the earth, ashes, cinders, and pumice-stones,
with which it is covered, are so light, and so little tenacious, that
they might be removed with no great difficulty. If the attention of his
Neapolitan Majesty were not engrossed with more important concerns, he
might have the whole town uncovered in a very short space of time; half
the lazzaroni of Naples could complete the business in one year. Hitherto
only one street and a few detached buildings are cleared; the street is
well paved with the same kind of stone of which the ancient roads are
made, narrow causeways are raised a foot and an half on each side for the
conveniency of foot passengers. The street itself, to my recollection, is
not so broad as the narrowest part of the Strand, and is supposed to have
been inhabited by tradespeople. The traces of wheels of carriages are to
be seen on the pavement; the distance between the traces is less than
that between the wheels of a modern post-chaise. I remarked this the more
as, on my first viewing the street, I doubted whether there was room for
two modern coaches to pass each other. I plainly saw there was sufficient
room for two of the ancient chariots, whose wheels were of no greater
distance than between the traces on the pavement. The houses are small,
and in a very different style from the modern Italian houses; for the
former give an idea of neatness and conveniency. The stucco on the walls
is hard as marble, smooth and beautiful. Some of the rooms are ornamented
with paintings, mostly single figures, representing some animal; they
are tolerably well executed, and on a little water being thrown on them,
the colours appear surprisingly fresh.
Most of the houses are built on the same plan, and have one small room
from the passage, which is conjectured to have been the shop, with a
window to the street, and a place which seems to have been contrived for
shewing the goods to the greatest advantage. The nature of the traffic
carried on at one particular house, is indicated by a figure in alto
relievo of a very expressive kind, immediately above the door.
It is to be wished they would cover one of the best houses with a roof,
as nearly resembling that which originally belonged to it as they could
imagine, with a complete assortment of the antique furniture of the
kitchen and each particular room. Such a house fitted up with accuracy
and judgment, with all its utensils and ornaments properly arranged,
would be an object of universal curiosity, and would swell the heart of
the antiquarian with veneration and delight. Only imagine, my dear Sir,
what those gentlemen must feel, when they see the venerable habitations
of the ancients in their present mournful condition, neglected, despised,
abandoned to the peltings of rain, and all the injuries of the weather!
those precious walls, which, were it possible to transport them to the
various countries of the world, would be bought with avidity, and placed
in the gardens of Princes! How must the bosoms of all true virtuosos
glow with indignation, when they behold the mansions of the ancient
Romans stripped of their ornaments, dishonoured, and exposed, like a
parcel of ragged galley slaves, in the most indecent manner, with hardly
any covering to their nakedness; while a little paltry brick house,
coming the Lord knows how, from a country which men of taste have always
despised, has been received with hospitality, dressed in a fine coat of
the richest marble, adorned with jewels and precious stones, and treated
with every mark of honourable distinction!
In another part of the town of Pompeia, there is a rectangular building,
with a colonade, towards the court, something in the style of the Royal
Exchange at London, but smaller. This has every appearance of a barrack
and guard room; the pillars are of brick, covered with shining stucco,
elegantly fluted; the scrawlings and drawings still visible on the walls,
are such as we might naturally expect on the walls of a guard room, where
soldiers are the designers, and swords the engraving tools. They consist
of gladiators fighting, some with each other, some with wild beasts; the
games of the circus, as chariot races, wrestling, and the like; a few
figures in caricatura, designed probably by some of the soldiers, in
ridicule of their companions, or perhaps of their officers; and there
are abundance of names inscribed on various parts of the wall, according
to the universal custom of the humblest candidates for fame in all ages
and countries. It may be safely asserted, that none of those who have
endeavoured to transmit their names to posterity in this manner, have
succeeded so well as the soldiers of the garrison of Pompeia.
At a considerable distance from the barrack, is a building, known by the
inscription upon it, for a temple of the goddess Isis; there is nothing
very magnificent in its appearance; the pillars are of brick stuccoed
like those of the guard room. The best paintings, hitherto found at
Pompeia, are those of this temple; they have been cut out of the walls
and removed to Portici. It was absolutely necessary to do this with
the pictures at Herculaneum, because _there_ they could not be seen
without the help of torches; but _here_, where they could be seen by
the light of the Sun, they would, in my humble opinion, have appeared to
more advantage, and have had a better effect in the identical situation
in which they were placed by the ancient artist. A few still remain,
particularly one, which is considered by travellers as a great curiosity;
it is a small view of a villa, with the gardens belonging to it.
There is one house or villa without the walls, on a much larger
scale than any of the others. In a large cellar, or vaulted gallery,
belonging to this house, there are a number of amphoræ, or earthen
vessels, arranged along the walls; most of them filled with a kind of
red substance, supposed to have been wine. This cellar is sunk about
two-thirds below the surface of the ground, and is lighted by small
narrow windows. I have called it gallery, because it is about twelve feet
in width, and is the whole length of two adjoining sides of the square
which the villa forms. It was used not only as a repository for wine,
but also as a cool retreat for the family during excessive hot weather.
Some of this unfortunate family sought shelter in this place from the
destructive shower which overwhelmed the town. Eight skeletons, four
being those of children, were found here; where they must have met a more
cruel and lingering death, than that which they shunned. In one room,
the body of a man was found; with an ax in the hand; it is probable he
had been endeavouring to cut a passage into the open air; he had broken
and pierced the wall, but had expired before he could clear away the
surrounding rubbish. Few skeletons were found in the streets, but a
considerable number in the houses. Before the decisive shower fell, which
smothered the inhabitants of this ill fated city, perhaps such quantities
of ashes and cinders were occasionally falling, as frightened, and
obliged them to keep within doors.
It is impossible to view those skeletons, and reflect on this dreadful
catastrophe, without horror and compassion. We cannot think of the
inhabitants of a whole town being destroyed at once, without imagining
that their fate has been uncommonly severe. But are not the inhabitants
of all the towns then existing, of whom we think without any emotion of
pity, as completely dead as those of Pompeia? And could we take them one
by one, and consider the nature of their deaths, and the circumstances
attending that of each individual; some destroyed by painful bodily
diseases, some by the torture of the executioner, some bowed to the
grave by the weight of accumulated sorrow, and the slow anguish of a
broken heart, after having suffered the pangs of dissolution, over and
over again, in the death of those they loved, after having beheld the
dying agonies of their children; could all this, I say, be appraised,
calculated, and compared, the balance of suffering might not be
found with the inhabitants of Pompeia, but rather with those of the
contemporary cities, who, perhaps at that time, as we do now, lamented
its severe fate.