University of Virginia Library

63. LETTER LXIII.

I have passed my first day in Naples in wandering
about, without any definite object. I have walked
around its famous bay, looked at the lazzaroni, watched
the smoke of Vesuvius, traversed the square where
the young Conradine was beheaded and Masaniello
commenced his revolt, mounted to the castle of St.
Elmo, and dined on macaroni in a trattoria, where the
Italian I had learned in Tuscany was of little more
use to me than Greek.

The bay surprised me most. It is a collection of
beauties, which seems more a miracle than an accident
of nature. It is a deep crescent of sixteen
miles across and a little more in length, between the
points of which lies a chain of low mountains, called
the island of Capri, looking, from the shore, like a
vast heap of clouds brooding at sea. In the bosom of
the crescent lies Naples. Its palaces and principal
buildings cluster around the base of an abrupt hill
crowned by the castle of St. Elmo, and its half million
of inhabitants have stretched their dwellings over
the plain toward Vesuvius, and back upon Posilipo,
bordering the curve of the shore on the right and left,
with a broad white band of city and village for twelve
or fourteen miles. Back from this, on the southern
side, a very gradual ascent brings your eye to the base
of Vesuvius, which rises from the plain in a sharp
cone, broken in at the top, its black and lava-streaked
sides descending with the evenness of a sand-hill, on
one side to the disinterred city of Pompeii, and on
the other to the royal palace of Portici, built over the
yet unexplored Herculaneum. In the centre of the
crescent of the shore, projecting into the sea by a
bridge of two or three hundred feet in length, stands
a small castle built upon a rock, on one side of which
lies the mole with its shipping. The other side is
bordered, close to the beach, with the gardens of the

royal villa, a magnificent promenade of a mile, ornamented
with fancy temples and statuary, on the smooth
alleys of which may be met, at certain hours, all that
is brilliant and gay in Naples. Farther on, toward the
northern horn of the bay, lies the mount of Posilipo,
the ancient coast of Baiæ, Cape Mysene, and the
mountain isles of Procida and Ischia, the last of which
still preserves the costumes of Greece, from which it
was colonized centuries ago. The bay itself is as blue
as the sky, scarcely ruffled all day with the wind, and
covered by countless boats fishing or creeping on with
their picturesque lateen sails just filled; while the atmosphere
over sea, city, and mountain, is of a clearness
and brilliancy which is inconceivable in other countries.
The superiority of the sky and climate of Italy
is no fable in any part of this delicious land — but
in Naples, if the day I have spent here is a fair specimen,
it is matchless even for Italy. There is something
like a fine blue veil of a most dazzling transparency
over the mountains around, but above and between
there seems nothing but viewless space — nothing
like air that a bird could rise upon. The eye gets
intoxicated almost with gazing on it.

We have just returned from our first excursion to
Pompeii. It lies on the southern side of the bay, just
below the volcano which overwhelmed it, about twelve
miles from Naples. The road lay along the shore,
and is lined with villages which are only separated by
name. The first is Portici, where the king has a summer
palace, through the court of which the road passes.
It is built over Herculaneum, and the danger of
undermining it has stopped the excavations of unquestionably
the richest city buried by Vesuvius. We
stopped at a little gate in the midst of the village, and
taking a guide and two torches, descended to the only
part of it now visible, by near a hundred steps. We
found ourselves at the back of an amphitheatre. We
entered the narrow passage, and the guide pointed to
several of the upper seats for the spectators which
had been partially dug out. They were lined with
marble, as the whole amphitheatre appears to have
been. To realize the effect of these ruins, it is to be
remembered that they are imbedded in solid lava, like
rock, near a hundred feet deep, and that the city which
is itself ancient is built above them. The carriage in
which we came stood high over our heads, in a time-worn
street, and ages had passed and many generations
of men had lived and died over a splendid city, whose
very name had been forgotten! It was discovered in
sinking a well, which struck the door of the amphitheatre.
The guide took us through several other
long passages, dug across and around it, showing us
the orchestra, the stage, the numerous entrances, and
the bases of several statues which are taken to the
museum at Naples. This is the only part of the excavation
that remains open, the others having again
been filled with rubbish. The noise of the carriages
overhead in the street of Portici was like a deafening
thunder.

In a hurry to get to Pompeii, which is much more
interesting, we ascended to daylight, and drove on. —
Coasting along the curve of the bay, with only a succession
of villas and gardens between us and the beach,
we soon came to Torre del Greco, a small town which
was overwhelmed by an eruption thirty-nine years ago.
Vesuvius here rises gradually on the left, the crater
being at a distance of five miles. The road crossed
the bed of dry lava, which extends to the sea in a
broad black mass of cinders, giving the country the most
desolate aspect. The town is rebuilt just beyond the
ashes, and the streets are crowded with the thoughtless
inhabitants, who buy and sell, and lounge in the
sun, with no more remembrance or fear of the volcano
than the people of a city in America.

Another half hour brought us to a long, high bank
of earth and ashes, thrown out from the excavations;
and, passing on, we stopped at the gate of Pompeii.
A guide met us, and we entered. We found ourselves
in the ruins of a public square, surrounded with small
low columns of red marble. On the right were several
small prisons, in one of which was found the
skeleton of a man with its feet in iron stocks. The
cell was very small, and the poor fellow must have
been suffocated without even a hope of escape. The
columns just in front were scratched with ancient
names, possibly those of the guard stationed at the
door of the prison. This square is surrounded with
shops, in which were found the relics and riches of
tradesmen, consisting of an immense variety. In one
of the buildings was found the skeleton of a newborn
child, and in one part of the square the skeletons of
sixty men, supposed to be soldiers, who, in the severity
of Roman discipline, dared not fly, and perished at
their post. There were several advertisements of
gladiators on the pillars, and it appears that at the
time of the eruption the inhabitants of Pompeii were
principally assembled in the great amphitheatre, at a
show.

We left the square, and visiting several small private
houses near it, passed into a street with a slight
ascent, the pavement of which was worn deep with
carriage-wheels. It appeared to have led from the upper
part of the city directly to the sea, and in rainy
weather must have been quite a channel for water, as
high stones at small distances were placed across the
street, leaving open places between for the carriage
wheels. (I think there is a contrivance of the same
kind in one of the streets of Baltimore.)

We mounted thence to higher ground, the part of
the city not excavated. A peasant's hut and a large
vineyard stand high above the ruins, and from the door
the whole city and neighborhood are seen to advantage.
The effect of the scene is strange beyond description.
Columns, painted walls, wheelworn streets,
amphitheatres, palaces, all as lonely and deserted as
the grave, stand around you, and behind is a poor cottage
and a vineyard of fresh earth just putting forth
its buds, and beyond the broad, blue, familiar bay, covered
with steamboats and sails, and populous modern
Naples in the distance — a scene as strangely mingled,
perhaps, as any to be found in the world. We looked
around for a while, and then walked on through the
vineyard to the amphitheatre which lies beyond, near
the other gate of the city. It is a gigantic ruin, completely
excavated, and capable of containing twenty
thousand spectators. The form is oval, and the architecture
particularly fine. Besides the many vomitories
or passages for ingress and egress, there are three smaller
alleys, one used as the entrance for wild beasts, one
for the gladiators, and the third as that by which the
dead were taken away. The skeletons of eight lions
and a man, supposed to be their keeper, were found in
one of the dens beneath, and those of five other persons
near the different doors. It is presumed that the
greater proportion of the inhabitants of Pompeii must
have escaped by sea, as the eruption occurred while
they were nearly all assembled on this spot, and these
few skeletons only have been found.[11]

We returned through the vineyard, and stopping at
the cottage, called for some of the wine of the last
vintage (delicious, like all those in the neighborhood
of Vesuvius), and producing our basket of provisions,
made a most agreeable dinner. Two parties of English
passed while we were sitting at our out-of-doors
table. Our attendant was an uncommonly pretty
girl of sixteen, born on the spot, and famous just now
as the object of a young English nobleman's particular
admiration. She is a fine, dark-eyed creature, but

certainly no prettier than every fifth peasant girl in Italy.
Having finished our picturesque meal, we went down
into the ancient streets once more, and arrived at the
small temple of Isis, a building in excellent preservation.
On the altar stood, when it was excavated, a
small statue of Isis, of exquisite workmanship (now
in the museum, to which all the curiosities of the
place are carried), and behind this we were shown the
secret penetralia, where the priests were concealed
who uttered the oracles supposed to be pronounced by
the goddess. The access was by a small secret flight
of stairs, communicating with the apartments of the
priests in the rear. The largest of these apartments
was probably the refectory, and here was found a human
skeleton near a table, upon which lay dinner
utensils, chicken bones, bones of fishes, bread and
wine, and a faded garland of flowers. In the kitchen,
which we next visited, were found cooking utensils,
remains of food, and the skeleton of a man leaning
against the wall with an axe in his hand, and near him
a considerable hole, which he had evidently cut to
make his escape when the door was stopped by cinders.
The skeleton of one of the priests was found prostrate
near the temple, and in his hand three hundred and
sixty coins of silver, forty-two of bronze, and eight of
gold, wrapped strongly in a cloth. He had probably
stopped before his flight to load himself with the
treasures of the temple, and was overtaken by the
shower of cinders and suffocated. The skeletons of
one or two were found upon beds, supposed to have
been smothered while asleep or ill. The temple is
beautifully paved with mosaic (as indeed are all the
better private houses and public buildings of Pompeii),
and the open inner court is bordered with a
quadrilateral portico. The building is of the Roman
Doric order. (I have neither time nor room to enumerate
the curiosities found here and in the other parts
of the city, and I only notice those which most impressed
my memory. The enumeration by Madame
Stark, will be found exceedingly interesting to those
who have not read her laconic guide-book.)

We passed next across a small street to the tragic
theatre, a large handsome building, where the seats for
the vestals, consuls, and other places of honor, are
well preserved, and thence up the hill to the temple
of Hercules, which must have been a noble edifice,
commanding a superb view of the sea.

The next object was the triangular forum, an open
space surrounded with three porticoes, supported by
a hundred Doric columns. Here were found several
skeletons, one of which was that of a man who had
loaded himself with plunder. Gold and silver coins,
cups, rings, spoons, buckles, and other things, were
found under him. Near here, under the ruins of a
wall, were discovered skeletons of a man and a woman,
and on the arms of the latter two beautiful
bracelets of gold.

We entered from this a broad street, lined with
shops, against the walls of which were paintings in
fresco and inscriptions in deep-red paint, representing
the occupations and recording the names of the occupants.
In one of them was found a piece of salt-fish,
smelling strongly after seventeen centuries! In a
small lane leading from this street, the guide led us to
a shop, decorated with pictures of fish of various
kinds, and furnished with a stove, marble dressers, and
earthen jars, supposed to have belonged to a vender of
fish and olives. A little further on was a baker's shop,
with a well-used oven, in which was found a batch of
bread burnt to a cinder. Near this was the house of a
midwife. In it were found several instruments of a
simple and excellent construction, unknown to the
moderns, a forceps, remains of medicines in a wooden
box, and various pestles and mortars. The walls were
ornamented with frescoes of the Graces, Venus, and
Adonis, and similar subjects.

The temple of the pantheon is a magnificent ruin,
and must have been one of the choicest in Pompeii.
Its walls are decorated with exquisite paintings in fresco,
arabesques, mosaics, &c., and its court is one hundred
and eighty feet long, and two hundred and thirty broad,
and contains an altar, around which are twelve pedestals
for statues of the twelve principal deities of the
ancients. Gutters of marble are placed at the base of
the triclinium, to carry away the blood of the victims.
A thousand coins of bronze, and forty or fifty of silver,
were found near the sanctuary.

We passed on to the Curea, a semicircular building,
for the discussion of matters of religion by the magistrates;
a temple of Romulus; the remains of a temple
of Janus; a splendid building called the chalcidicum,
constructed by the priestess Eumachea and her
son, and dedicated as a temple of concord, and came
at last, by a regular ascent, into a large and spacious
square, called the forum civile. This part of the city
of Pompeii must have been extremely imposing.
Porticoes, supported by noble columns, encompassed
its vast area; the pedestals of colossal statues, erected
to distinguished citizens, are placed at the corners; at
the northern extremity rose a stately temple of Jupiter;
on the right was another temple to Venus; beyond, a
large public edifice, the use of which is not known;
across the narrow street which bounds it stood the
Basilica, an immense building, which served as a court
of justice and an exchange.

We passed out at the gate of the city and stopped
at a sentry-box, in which was found a skeleton in full
armor — a soldier who had died at his post! From
hence formerly the road descended directly to the sea,
and for some distance was lined on either side with the
magnificent tombs of the Pompeians. Among them
was that of the vestal virgins, left unfinished when
the city was destroyed; a very handsome tomb, in
which was found the skeleton of a woman, with a lamp
in one hand and jewels in the other (who had probably
attempted to rob before her flight), and a very handsome
square monument, with a beautiful relievo on
one of the slabs, representing (as emblematic of death)
a ship furling her sails on coming into port. Near
one of the large family sepulchres stands a small semicircular
room, intended for the funeral feast after a
burial; and here were found the remains of three men
around a table, scattered with relics of a meal. They
were overwhelmed ere their feast was concluded over
the dead!

The principal inn of Pompeii was just inside the
gate. We went over the ruins of it. The skeleton
of an ass was found chained to a ring in the stable, and
the tire of a wheel lay in the court yard. Chequers
are painted on the side of the door, as a sign.

Below the tombs stands the “suburban villa of
Diomed,” one of the most sumptuous edifices of
Pompeii. Here was found everything that the age
could furnish for the dwelling of a man of wealth.
Statues, frescoes, jewels, wine, household utensils of
every description, skeletons of servants and dogs, and
every kind of elegant furniture. The family was large,
and in the first moment of terror, they all retreated to
a wine vault under the villa, where their skeletons
(eighteen grown persons and two children) were found
seventeen centuries after! There was really something
startling in walking through the deserted rooms
of this beautiful villa — more than one feels elsewhere
in Pompeii, for it is more like the elegance and taste
of our own day; and with the brightness of the preserved
walls, and the certainty with which the use of
each room is ascertained, it seems as if the living inhabitant
would step from some corner and welcome
you. The figures on the walls are as fresh as if done
yesterday. The baths look as if they might scarce be
dry from use. It seems incredible that the whole
Christian age has elapsed since this was a human

dwelling — occupied by its last family while our Savior
was walking the world!

It would be tedious to enumerate all the curious
places to which the guide led us in this extraordinary
city. On our return through the streets, among the objects
of interest was the house of Sallust, the historian.
I did not think, when reading his beautiful latin at
school, that I should ever sit down in his parlor!
Sallust was rich, and his house is uncommonly handsome.
Here is his chamber, his inner court, his
kitchen, his garden, his dining-room, his guest chamber,
all perfectly distinguishable by the symbolical
frescoes on the walls. In the court was a fountain of
pretty construction, and opposite, in the rear, was a
flower-garden, containing arrangements for dining in
open air in summer. The skeleton of a female (supposed
to be the wife of the historian) and three servants,
known by their different ornaments, were found near
the door of the street.

We passed a druggist's shop and a cook-shop, and
entered, treading on a beautiful mosaic floor, the
“house of the dramatic poet,” so named, from the
character of the paintings with which it is ornamented
throughout. The frescoes found here are the finest
ancient paintings in the world, and from some peculiarity
in the rings upon the fingers of the female
figures, they are supposed to be family portraits. With
assistance like this, how easily the imagination repeoples
these deserted dwellings!

A heavy shower drove us to the shelter of the wine-vaults
of Diomed, as we were about stepping into our
carriage to return to Naples. We spent the time in
exploring, and found some thirty or forty earthen jars
still half-buried in the ashes which drifted through the
loop-holes of the cellar. In another half hour the
black cloud had passed away over Vesuvius, and the
sun set behind Posilipo in a flood of splendor. We
were at home soon after dark, having had our fill of
astonishment for once. I have seen nothing in my life
so remarkable as this disentombed city. I have passed
over, in the description, many things which were well
worth noting, but it would have grown into a mere
catalogue else. You should come to Italy. It is a
privilege to realize these things which could not be
bought too dearly, and they can not be realized but
by the eye. Description conveys but a poor shadow
of them to the fancy.