order to transmit a more exact relation of it to posterity, deserves my
acknowledgments; for, if this accident shall be celebrated by your pen,
the glory of it, I am well assured, will be rendered forever
illustrious. And notwithstanding he perished by a misfortune, which, as
it involved at the same time a most beautiful country in ruins, and
destroyed so many populous cities, seems to promise him an everlasting
remembrance; notwithstanding he has himself composed many and lasting
works; yet I am persuaded, the mentioning of him in your immortal
writings, will greatly contribute to render his name immortal. Happy I
esteem those to be to whom by provision of the gods has been granted the
ability either to do such actions as are worthy of being related or to
relate them in a manner worthy of being read; but peculiarly happy are
they who are blessed with both these uncommon talents: in the number of
which my uncle, as his own writings and your history will evidently
prove, may justly be ranked. It is with extreme willingness, therefore,
that I execute your commands; and should indeed have claimed the task if
you had not enjoined it. He was at that time with the fleet under his
command at Misenum.[92] On the 24th of August, about one in the
afternoon, my mother desired him to observe a cloud which appeared of a
very unusual size and shape. He had just taken a turn in the sun[93]
and, after bathing himself in cold water, and making a light luncheon,
gone back to his books: he immediately arose and went out upon a rising
ground from whence he might get a better sight of this very uncommon
appearance. A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain, at this distance
(but it was found afterwards to come from Mount Vesuvius), was
ascending, the appearance of which I cannot give you a more exact
description of than by likening it to that of a pine tree, for it shot
up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread
itself out at the top into a sort of branches; occasioned, I imagine,
either by a sudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which
decreased as it advanced upwards, or the cloud itself being pressed back
again by its own weight, expanded in the manner I have mentioned; it
appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted, according as
it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders. This
phenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and research as my uncle
extraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a light vessel
to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to accompany him. I said
I had rather go on with my work; and it so happened, he had himself
given me something to write out. As he was coming out of the house, he
received a note from Rectina, the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost
alarm at the imminent danger which threatened her; for her villa lying
at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea;
she earnestly entreated him therefore to come to her assistance. He
accordingly changed his first intention, and what he had begun from a
philosophical, he now carries out in a noble and generous spirit. He
ordered the galleys to be put to sea, and went himself on board with an
intention of assisting not only Rectina, but the several other towns
which lay thickly strewn along that beautiful coast. Hastening then to
the place from whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his
course direct to the point of danger, and with so much calmness and
presence of mind as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon
the motion and all the phenomena of that dreadful scene. He was now so
close to the mountain that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter
the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice-
stones, and black pieces of burning rock: they were in danger too not
only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, but also from
the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain, and obstructed
all the shore. Here he stopped to consider whether he should turn back
again; to which the pilot advising him, "Fortune," said he, "favours the
brave; steer to where Pomponianus is." Pomponianus was then at
Stabiae,[94] separated by a bay, which the sea, after several insensible
windings, forms with the shore. He had already sent his baggage on
board; for though he was not at that time in actual danger, yet being
within sight of it, and indeed extremely near, if it should in the least
increase, he was determined to put to sea as soon as the wind, which was
blowing dead in-shore, should go down. It was favourable, however, for
carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest
consternation: he embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to
keep up his spirits, and, the more effectually to soothe his fears by
seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got ready, and then,
after having bathed, sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at
least (what is just as heroic) with every appearance of it. Meanwhile
broad flames shone out in several places from Mount Vesuvius, which the
darkness of the night contributed to render still brighter and clearer.
But my uncle, in order to soothe the apprehensions of his friend,
assured him it was only the burning of the villages, which the country
people had abandoned to the flames: after this he retired to rest, and
it is most certain he was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound
sleep: for his breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was
rather heavy and sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside. The
court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and
ashes, if he had continued there any time longer, it would have been
impossible for him to have made his way out. So he was awoke and got up,
and went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were feeling
too anxious to think of going to bed. They consulted together whether it
would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side
to side with frequent and violent concussions as though shaken from
their very foundations; or fly to the open fields, where the calcined
stones and cinders, though light indeed, yet fell in large showers, and
threatened destruction. In this choice of dangers they resolved for the
fields: a resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried
into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate
consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads
with napkins; and this was their whole defence against the storm of
stones that fell round them. It was now day everywhere else, but there a
deeper darkness prevailed than in the thickest night; which however was
in some degree alleviated by torches and other lights of various kinds.
They thought proper to go farther down upon the shore to see if they
might safely put out to sea, but found the waves still running extremely
high, and boisterous. There my uncle, laying himself down upon a sail
cloth, which was spread for him, called twice for some cold water, which
he drank, when immediately the flames, preceded by a strong whiff of
sulphur, dispersed the rest of the party, and obliged him to rise. He
raised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, and
instantly fell down dead; suffocated, as I conjecture, by some gross and
noxious vapour, having always had a weak throat, which was often
inflamed. As soon as it was light again, which was not till the third
day after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, and
without any marks of violence upon it, in the dress in which he fell,
and looking more like a man asleep than dead. During all this time my
mother and I, who were at Miscnum--but this has no connection with your
history, and you did not desire any particulars besides those of my
uncle's death; so I will end here, only adding that I have faithfully
related to you what I was either an eye-witness of myself or received
immediately after the accident happened, and before there was time to
vary the truth. You will pick out of this narrative whatever is most
important: for a letter is one thing, a history another; it is one thing
writing to a friend, another thing writing to the public. Farewell.
LXVI -- To CORNELIUS TACITUS
THE letter which, in compliance with your request, I wrote to you
concerning the death of my uncle has raised, it seems, your curiosity to
know what terrors and dangers attended me while I continued at Misenum;
for there, I think, my account broke off:
"Though my shock'd soul recoils, my tongue shall tell."
My uncle having left us, I spent such time as was left on my studies (it
was on their account indeed that I had stopped behind), till it was time
for my bath. After which I went to supper, and then fell into a short
and uneasy sleep. There had been noticed for many days before a
trembling of the earth, which did not alarm us much, as this is quite an
ordinary occurrence in Campania; but it was so particularly violent that
night that it not only shook but actually overturned, as it would seem,
everything about us. My mother rushed into my chamber, where she found
me rising, in order to awaken her. We sat down in the open court of the
house, which occupied a small space between the buildings and the sea.
As I was at that time but eighteen years of age, I know not whether I
should call my behaviour, in this dangerous juncture, courage or folly;
but I took up Livy, and amused myself with turning over that author, and
even making extracts from him, as if I had been perfectly at my leisure.
Just then, a friend of my uncle's, who had lately come to him from
Spain, joined us, and observing me sitting by my mother with a book in
my hand, reproved her for her calmness, and me at the same time for my
careless security: nevertheless I went on with my author. Though it was
now morning, the light was still exceedingly faint and doubtful; the
buildings all around us tottered, and though we stood upon open ground,
yet as the place was narrow and confined, there was no remaining without
imminent danger: we therefore resolved to quit the town. A panic-
stricken crowd followed us, and (as to a mind distracted with terror
every suggestion seems more prudent than its own) pressed on us in dense
array to drive us forward as we came out. Being at a convenient distance
from the houses, we stood still, in the midst of a most dangerous and
dreadful scene. The chariots, which we had ordered to be drawn out, were
so agitated backwards and forwards, though upon the most level ground,
that we could not keep them steady, even by supporting them with large
stones. The sea seemed to roll back upon itself, and to be driven from
its banks by the convulsive motion of the earth; it is certain at least
the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea animals were left
upon it. On the other side, a black and dreadful cloud, broken with
rapid, zigzag flashes, revealed behind it variously shaped masses of
flame: these last were like sheet-lightning, but much larger. Upon this
our Spanish friend, whom I mentioned above, addressing himself to my
mother and me with great energy and urgency: "If your brother," he said,
"if your uncle be safe, he certainly wishes you may be so too; but if he
perished, it was his desire, no doubt, that you might both survive him:
why therefore do you delay your escape a moment?" We could never think
of our own safety, we said, while we were uncertain of his. Upon this
our friend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmost
precipitation. Soon afterwards, the cloud began to descend, and cover
the sea. It had already surrounded and concealed the island of Capreae
and the promontory of Misenum. My mother now besought, urged, even
commanded me to make my escape at any rate, which, as I was young, I
might easily do; as for herself, she said, her age and corpulency
rendered all attempts of that sort impossible; however, she would
willingly meet death if she could have the satisfaction of seeing that
she was not the occasion of mine. But I absolutely refused to leave her,
and, taking her by the hand, compelled her to go with me. She complied
with great reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself for
retarding my flight. The ashes now began to fall upon us, though in no
great quantity. I looked back; a dense dark mist seemed to be following
us, spreading itself over the country like a cloud. "Let us turn out of
the high-road," I said, "while we can still see, for fear that, should
we fall in the road, we should be pressed to death in the dark, by the
crowds that are following us." We had scarcely sat down when night came
upon us, not such as we have when the sky is cloudy, or when there is no
moon, but that of a room when it is shut up, and all the lights put out.
You might hear the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the
shouts of men; some calling for their children, others for their
parents, others for their husbands, and seeking to recognise each other
by the voices that replied; one lamenting his own fate, another that of
his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some
lifting their hands to the gods; but the greater part convinced that
there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless night of which
we have heard had come upon the world.[95] Among these there were some
who augmented the real terrors by others imaginary or wilfully invented.
I remember some who declared that one part of Misenum had fallen, that
another was on fire; it was false, but they found people to believe
them. It now grew rather lighter, which we imagined to be rather the
forerunner of an approaching burst of flames (as in truth it was) than
the return of day: however, the fire fell at a distance from us: then
again we were immersed in thick darkness, and a heavy shower of ashes
rained upon us, which we were obliged every now and then to stand up to
shake off, otherwise we should have been crushed and buried in the heap.
I might boast that, during all this scene of horror, not a sigh, or
expression of fear, escaped me, had not my support been grounded in that
miserable, though mighty, consolation, that all mankind were involved in
the same calamity, and that I was perishing with the world itself. At
last this dreadful darkness was dissipated by degrees, like a cloud or
smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun shone out, though with a
lurid light, like when an eclipse is coming on. Every object that
presented itself to our eyes (which were extremely weakened) seemed
changed, being covered deep with ashes as if with snow. We returned to
Misenum, where we refreshed ourselves as well as we could, and passed an
anxious night between hope and fear; though, indeed, with a much larger
share of the latter: for the earthquake still continued, while many
frenzied persons ran up and down heightening their own and their
friends' calamities by terrible predictions. However, my mother and I,
notwithstanding the danger we had passed, and that which still
threatened us, had no thoughts of leaving the place, till we could
receive some news of my uncle.
And now, you will read this narrative without any view of inserting it
in your history, of which it is not in the least worthy; and indeed you
must put it down to your own request if it should appear not worth even
the trouble of a letter. Farewell.
LX VII -- To MACER
How much does the fame of human actions depend upon the station of those
who perform them! The very same conduct shall be either applauded to the
skies or entirely overlooked, just as it may happen to proceed from a
person of conspicuous or obscure rank. I was sailing lately upon our
lake,[96] with an old man of my acquaintance, who desired me to observe
a villa situated upon its banks, which had a chamber overhanging the
water. "From that room," said he, "a woman of our city threw herself and
her husband." Upon enquiring into the cause, he informed me, "That her
husband having been long afflicted with an ulcer in those parts which
modesty conceals, she prevailed with him at last to let her inspect the
sore, assuring him at the same time that she would most sincerely give
her opinion whether there was a possibility of its being cured.
Accordingly, upon viewing the ulcer, she found the case hopeless, and
therefore advised him to put an end to his life: she herself
accompanying him, even leading the way by her example, and being
actually the means of his death; for tying herself to her husband, she
plunged with him into the lake." Though this happened in the very city
where I was born, I never heard it mentioned before; and yet that this
action is taken less notice of than that famous one of Arria's, is not
because it was less remarkable, but because the person who performed it
was more obscure. Farewell.
LXVIII -- To SERVIANUS
I AM extremely glad to hear that you intend your daughter for Fuscus
Salinator, and congratulate you upon it. His family is patrician,[97]
and both his father and mother are persons of the most distinguished
merit. As for himself, he is studious, learned, and eloquent, and, with
all the innocence of a child, unites the sprightliness of youth and the
wisdom of age. I am not, believe me, deceived by my affection, when I
give him this character; for though I love him, I confess, beyond
measure (as his friendship and esteem for me well deserve), yet
partiality has no share in my judgment: on the contrary, the stronger my
affection for him, the more exactingly I weigh his merit. I will
venture, then, to assure you (and I speak it upon my own experience) you
could not have, formed to your wishes, a more accomplished son-in-law.
May he soon present you with a grandson, who shall be the exact copy of
his father! and with what pleasure shall I receive from the arms of two
such friends their children or grand-children, whom I shall claim a sort
of right to embrace as my own! Farewell.
LXIX -- To SEVERUS
You desire me to consider what turn you should give to your speech in
honour of the emperor,[98] upon your being appointed consul elect.[99]
It is easy to find copies, not so easy to choose out of them; for his
virtues afford such abundant material. However, I will write and give
you my opinion, or (what I should prefer) I will let you have it in
person, after having laid before you the difficulties which occur to me.
I am doubtful, then, whether I should advise you to pursue the method
which I observed myself on the same occasion. When I was consul elect, I
avoided running into the usual strain of compliment, which, however far
from adulation, might yet look like it. Not that I affected firmness and
independence; but, as well knowing the sentiments of our amiable prince,
and being thoroughly persuaded that the highest praise I could offer to
him would be to show the world I was under no necessity of paying him
any. When I reflected what profusion of honours had been heaped upon the
very worst of his predecessors, nothing, I imagined, could more
distinguish a prince of his real virtues from those infamous emperors
than to address him in a different manner. And this I thought proper to
observe in my speech, lest it might be suspected I passed over his
glorious acts, not out of judgment, but inattention. Such was the method
I then observed; but I am sensible the same measures are neither
agreeable nor indeed suitable to all alike. Besides the propriety of
doing or omitting a thing depends not only upon persons, but time and
circumstances; and as the late actions of our illustrious prince afford
materials for panegyric, no less just than recent and glorious, I doubt
(as I said before) whether I should persuade you in the present instance
to adopt the same plan as I did myself. In this, however, I am clear,
that it was proper to offer you by way of advice the method I pursued.
Farewell.
LXX -- To FABATUS
I HAVE the best reason, certainly, for celebrating your birthday as my
own, since all the happiness of mine arises from yours, to whose care
and diligence it is owing that I am gay here and at my ease in town. --
Your Camillian villa[100] in Campania has suffered by the injuries of
time, and is falling into decay; however, the most valuable parts of the
building either remain entire or are but slightly damaged, and it shall
be my care to see it put into thorough repair. -- Though I flatter
myself I have many friends, yet I have scarcely any of the sort you
enquire after, and which the affair you mention demands. All mine lie
among those whose employments engage them in town; whereas the conduct
of country business requires a person of a robust constitution, and bred
up to the country, to whom the work may not seem hard, nor the office
beneath him, and who does not feel a solitary life depressing. You think
most highly of Rufus, for he was a great friend of your son's; but of
what use he can be to us upon this occasion, I cannot conceive; though I
am sure he will be glad to do all he can for us. Farewell.
LXXI -- To CORNELIANUS
I RECEIVED lately the most exquisite satisfaction at Centumcellae[101]
(as it is now called), being summoned thither by Cæsar[102] to attend a
council. Could anything indeed afford a higher pleasure than to see the
emperor exercising his justice, his wisdom, and his affability, even in
retirement, where those virtues are most observable? Various were the
points brought in judgment before him, and which proved, in so many
different instances, the excellence of the judge. The cause of Claudius
Ariston came on first. He is an Ephesian nobleman, of great munificence
and unambitious popularity, whose virtues have rendered him obnoxious to
a set of people of far different characters; they had instigated an
informer against him, of the same infamous stamp with themselves; but he
was honourably acquitted. The next day, the case of Galitta, accused of
adultery, was heard. Her husband, who is a military tribune, was upon
the point of offering himself as a candidate for certain honours at
Rome, but she had stained her own good name and his by an intrigue with
a centurion.[103] The husband informed the consul's lieutenant, who
wrote to the emperor about it. Cæsar, having thoroughly sifted the
evidence, cashiered the centurion, and sentenced him to banishment. It
remained that some penalty should be inflicted likewise upon the other
party, as it is a crime of which both must necessarily be equally
guilty. But the husband's affection for his wife inclined him to drop
that part of the prosecution, not without some reflections on his
forbearance; for he continued to live with her even after he had
commenced this prosecution, content, it would seem, with having removed
his rival. But he was ordered to proceed in the suit: and, though he
complied with great reluctance, it was necessary, nevertheless, that she
should be condemned. Accordingly, she was sentenced to the punishment
directed by the Julian law.[104] The emperor thought proper to specify,
in his decree, the name and office of the centurion, that it might
appear he passed it in virtue of military discipline; lest it should be
imagined he claimed a particular cognizance in every cause of the same
nature. The third day was employed in examining into an affair which had
occasioned a good deal of talk and various reports; it was concerning
the codicils of Julius Tiro, part of which was plainly genuine, while
the other part, it was alleged, was forged. The persons accused of this
fraud were Sempronius Senecio, a Roman knight, and Eurythmus, Cæsar's
freedman and procurator.[105] The heirs jointly petitioned the emperor,
when he was in Dacia,[106] that he would reserve to himself the trial of
this cause; to which he consented. On his return from that expedition,
he appointed a day for the hearing; and when some of the heirs, as
though out of respect to Eurythmus, offered to withdraw the suit, the
emperor nobly replied, "He is not Polycletus,[107] nor am I Nero."
However, he indulged the petitioners with an adjournment, and the time
being expired, he now sat to hear the cause. Two of the heirs appeared,
and desired that either their whole number might be compelled to plead,
as they had all joined in the information, or that they also might have
leave to withdraw. Cæsar delivered his opinion with great dignity and
moderation; and when the counsel on the part of Senecio and Eurythmus
had represented that unless their clients were heard, they would remain
under the suspicion of guilt,--"I am not concerned," said the emperor,
"what suspicions they may lie under, it is I that am suspected;" and
then turning to us, "Advise me," said he, "how to act in this affair,
for you see they complain when allowed to withdraw their suit." At
length, by the advice of the counsel, he 'ordered notice to be given to
the heirs that they should either proceed with the case or each of them
justify their reasons for not doing so; otherwise that he would pass
sentence upon them as calumniators.[108] Thus you see how usefully and
seriously we spent our time, which however was diversified with
amusements of the most agreeable kind. We were every day invited to
Cæsar's table, which, for so great a prince, was spread with much
plainness and simplicity. There we were either entertained with
interludes or passed the night in the most pleasing conversation. When
we took our leave of him the last day, he made each of us presents; so
studiously polite is Cæsar! As for myself, I was not only charmed with
the dignity and wisdom of the judge, the honour done to the assessors,
the ease and unreserved freedom of our social intercourse, but with the
exquisite situation of the place itself. This delightful villa is
surrounded by the greenest meadows, and overlooks the shore, which bends
inwards, forming a complete harbour. The left arm of this port is
defended by exceedingly strong works, while the right is in process of
completion. An artificial island, which rises at the mouth of the
harbour, breaks the force of the waves, and affords a safe passage to
ships on either side. This island is formed by a process worth seeing:
stones of a most enormous size are transported hither in a large sort of
pontoons, and being piled one upon the other, are fixed by their own
weight, gradually accumulating in the manner, as it were, of a natural
mound. It already lifts its rocky back above the ocean, while the waves
which beat upon it, being broken and tossed to an immense height, foam
with a prodigious noise, and whiten all the surrounding sea. To these
stones are added wooden piers, which in process of time will give it the
appearance of a natural island. This haven is to be called by the name
of its great author,[109] and will prove of infinite benefit, by
affording a secure retreat to ships on that extensive and dangerous
coast. Farewell.
LXXII -- To MAXIMUS