Chapter VI: Part 6

In this garden is a bust of Tasso, the features of which the sentinel one day permitted me to examine, when I was much struck with the contour. The traveller will also see here the celebrated group, called Il Toro Farnese, originally brought to Rome from Rhodes, and found in Caracallas baths, from whence it was removed to the Farnese palace. It was supposed to represent Amphion and Zetus, who, by order of their mother Antiope, are binding Dirce to the horns of a wild bull. Apollonius is said to have executed much of this group, which has however been restored in so many parts, that little of the antique work remains, the bull excepted.

On the 15th, the king of Naples, about three o’clock in the afternoon, made his public entry into his capital, after regaining possession of his dominions, under two triumphal arches erected for the purpose, one at the Botanic Garden, a short distance from the city, the other in the middle of the Toledo. The whole way to the palace was lined with Austrian and Neapolitan soldiers, who were ordered to prevent cheering, and it was even said that some lazaroni, who attempted it, were placed in custody.

In the evening the city was illuminated, although this was partially done, and chiefly confined to the public offices, and residences of such individuals as were more particularly anxious to manifest their loyalty. This was repeated on the two succeeding nights.

The entrance of the king, appeared to be the signal for the removal of such persons as were supposed inimical to his government; many were simply ejected from their situations, while others were imprisoned, or had passports sent to them, with notice to quit the kingdom before a certain day; I am not aware that the punishment of death was inflicted on any.

On the 18th we experienced a very hot day; after breakfast, my friend C⸺, Dr. R⸺, and myself, set out to visit Virgil’s tomb; which, notwithstanding they had been there before, we contrived to pass beyond; returning back we discovered it, and having entered a door which led through a small vineyard, began to descend a number of steps, which terminated near the entrance of a stone vault, in which were a number of recesses for the reception of sepulchral urns, each about two feet high and eighteen inches broad; these were formed on a level with the floor, one on either side of the entrance, three in each lateral wall, and two in front, being ten in all.

Some antiquarians have disputed, whether the ashes of the great Mantuan bard ever reposed in this vault; this philosophically and abstractedly taken, perhaps, is a matter of as little consequence to posterity, as to Virgil himself; but in a sentimental point of view, unless they can point out indisputably, the spot where the precious exuviæ of this immortal spirit were actually deposited, it is but a cruel martyrdom of feeling, to attempt to deprive us, the hapless Ciceroni of the day, of the exquisite gratification of an imaginary _sepulchretum_.

Shortly after this interesting excursion, we determined to cross the bay of Naples to Sorento, the birth-place of Tasso, at the distance of about eighteen miles. Our party consisted of Lieut. B⸺, Mr. D⸺, and myself; we had a short and pleasant passage, and just before the sails were taken in, the crew sung a hymn to the Virgin Mary, to thank her for their safe arrival, and then brought round a box for our contributions to a libation in honour of her. We now found that the town was two miles farther on, and the master prepared a small boat, with part of his crew, to take us there, for which he gave us to understand, we were to pay as much as for the voyage across the bay; notwithstanding he had informed us that his was a Sorento boat, and we had engaged to be taken there. My friends were unwilling to dispute the point; whereas, had it been left to myself, he should not have received a _grain_ beyond his contract, or even that, until he had landed us at the point stipulated for. The impositions to which strangers are subjected in this country, are unbounded, and it requires much art and manœuvring to defend oneself; not that this is particular to Italy, for we have only to look at home, where we find our hackney-coachmen and watermen, ready to avail themselves of a similar licence. My plan is, in the first instance, to gain all possible information as to the proper distances and charges; and then, throwing myself accidentally, as it were, in the way of those persons I wish to engage, to allow them to make the first attack, which they will be sure to do, and which I receive with an indifferent air, laughing at their price, which I know, and declare to be unreasonable, and offering them a very low one;—if it is not accepted, I then walk away, for it is endless staying to argue with them; they will be sure to follow and learn my address, and make more reasonable proposals; in which case, with an appearance of liberality, it is easy to say, that as I am pleased with their civil manners, it induces me to give something more than the regular fare, when the bargain is readily concluded.

On landing, our first object was to make out a comfortable inn for dinner, but we were grievously disappointed. The best one was full and unable to receive us; the second contained nothing to eat; and in the third we found a dirty old man, getting out of one of the six beds, which the room we were to have dined in contained, and from which issued so disgusting a smell, that notwithstanding the keenness of our appetites, we could not reconcile ourselves to continue there. We had recourse to our only alternative, which was to proceed to the house of a gentleman, Captain S⸺, at the distance of two miles, with whom Lieut. B⸺ wished to treat, for summer apartments for his family, thinking we might elicit information as to where a dinner could be procured. Captain S⸺ was dining from home, but we had the pleasure of seeing his lady, whose account of the accommodations of the neighbourhood put us quite in despair. She insisted, however, upon sending for her husband, and had the kindness to give us a refreshment of bread, wine, and oranges, which was truly acceptable. Captain S⸺, on his arrival, with the greatest kindness, offered us not only a dinner, but beds, which, although with reluctance, we felt compelled to accept of.

In the interim, while dinner was in preparation, we walked out to call on an English friend of Mr. B⸺’s, who resided two miles farther off; he was, however, from home; but the attempt to see him, gave us an opportunity of exploring the country; which my friends described as very beautiful, although only visible through occasional interruptions to high stone walls on either side, and which universally bound the roads in this part of the country; and which are so narrow, that it must be impossible for a common-sized waggon to pass along them; they serve, however, at least one good purpose, that of affording shelter from the scorching rays of the sun.

Soon after eight o’clock our dinner was announced, and an excellent one it proved; although, I believe, we should all, under our feelings of hunger, have given the preference to a few mutton chops hastily provided; but the order of things must not be deranged; as we proposed to set off at four in the morning, we were glad to retire to bed immediately after dinner.

In the morning Captain S⸺ had the kindness to get up to see us off, when he sent his servant to conduct us to a much nearer point than Sorento, and which proved to be the individual spot where we had first arrived on the preceding day. We did not reach Naples until nine o’clock, having little wind, so that we had to pull a considerable part of the distance.

On the 26th, Lieut. B⸺ and myself, accompanied Count K⸺ on board the Austrian flagship, lying off this port. This vessel, named the Austria, was a frigate of forty-four guns, built by the French at Venice, and afterwards taken possession of by the Austrians. We found an English sailor on board, who had entered from one of our merchantmen in the Mediterranean, and who gave us no very favourable account of the naval tactics of the Austrians. The officers appeared to want that smartness which we are accustomed to in a British man-of-war; that is, there was a heavy manner about them. We were treated, however, with civility, although we did expect more attention, having been introduced as British naval officers.

On the 29th, one of the two Austrian frigates lying here, with two Neapolitan frigates, having under convoy about forty smaller vessels, with eight thousand Austrian troops on board, sailed for Palermo. My friends were highly delighted with this spectacle.

Having heard much of the island of Ischia, distant twenty-four miles from Naples, I was induced to cross over to it, in company with Mr. J. O⸺, an English gentleman, who was purposing to spend some time there, on account of his health. We had intended setting off some days before, but the Sirocco wind prevented us, being attended by a heavy swell setting into the bay, so that no boat would venture out. We left Naples at six o’clock in the morning of the 30th of May, and after passing by the islands of Nicida and Prochyta, on the former of which stands the Lazaretto, and on the latter one of the king’s palaces, we landed about half after eleven, at the village of Ischia. We were immediately surrounded by a number of fellows having asses with them, which they, with much insolence, urged us to hire. Mr. O⸺ took one for his little nephew whom he had brought with him, and setting him forward, we followed on foot until we arrived at Sentinella, a distance of three or four miles. We were pursued, however, for a considerable time by a drove of these donkey men, in expectation that we might hire their animals; but at length, finding themselves disappointed, they gradually gave up the point, hooting and holloing after us as they departed.

On laying my hand on one of these asses, I was astonished at the silkiness of its skin; but I believe the hair of all animals is proportionately softer in southern climates, probably in consequence of the superficial pores being more open. I have heard, and it appears probable, that the nerves of the cuticle, as of the finger, are more sensible in warm latitudes; and that this is the reason why the silks, and other fine works, in such countries, are of more delicate texture, than what are manufactured elsewhere.

This island, formerly known by the names of Enaria and Pithecusa, is exceedingly fertile, rich, and populous, the whole of it is conceived to be of volcanic origin; indeed it was formerly famous for its frequent eruptions, although they have now entirely ceased. The town of Ischia, from whence it derives its present name, is situated in a small bay, which is protected by a castle, built on a rock projecting into the sea, and separated from the main island by a ridge of sand.

Sentinella is a single house, standing on a rock which overhangs the sea; it belongs to a public notary, who receives visitors that come to the island for the benefit of its baths, and who are accommodated with board and lodging at the rate of a dollar per day; as a situation, it is far preferable to the adjoining village of Lucio, which is a shabby place, standing low on the shore, and consequently excessively hot, and infested by mosquitoes; whereas, at Sentinella, there is a fine sea breeze by day, and fresh air from the mountains at night. The proprietor has several daughters, agreeable young women, who study the comforts of their visitors; he has, besides, a brother, a medical man, residing in the village. In the evening, the young ladies entertained us with music and dancing.

The baths are situated at the village. There are two springs, one termed _Aqua del occhio_, from which the baths are supplied; the other is called the _Aqua Caponi_; I drank a couple of tumblers full of the latter, the taste of which reminded me of a weak solution of Cheltenham salts.

After returning from the baths, we rested quietly for the remainder of the day, amusing ourselves with reading; in the evening, we walked to a village named Piazza, and on our return, were again entertained with music and dancing.

On the following morning, I took leave of Sentinella, where I should have felt happy to have prolonged my stay, in order to have enjoyed more of the society of Mr. O⸺, whom I left behind me. The pursuits of this gentleman, were much in unison with my own; that is, he occupied his time with an alternation of exercise and reading, the one so condusive to health, the other to happiness; nor were these pursuits directed to the mere attainment of vacant pleasure, but to the more satisfactory acquisition of useful information; and Horace says,

“Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci.”

At ten o’clock I embarked for Naples, which, however, we did not reach before six in the evening, for we had light or contrary winds throughout the day, and, notwithstanding the use of our oars, made but slow progress.

On the following day a fine morning was succeeded, about noon, by a cloudy atmosphere, and in returning from the custom-house, where I had accompanied a gentleman, we were overtaken by a dreadful thunderstorm, attended by torrents of rain. We succeeded, however, in gaining shelter. On this occasion, I missed my pocket handkerchief, and whether it had been filched away by the rude wind, or some of the light-fingered gentry, with whom this city abounds, it is impossible for me to say, although I am inclined to suspect the latter. It was, however, the only loss of the kind I sustained during my journey.

Sunday, June 3d, Mr. C⸺ and myself hired a curriculo or gig, and drove to Capo di Monte, to visit Mr. and Mrs. M⸺. This is a most delightful summer residence, standing on very elevated ground, although only two miles distant from the city. The king has a palace here, as he has in almost every fine situation; in short, the royal residences are so numerous, that one can scarce wonder at the heavy income-tax of twenty-five per cent. as well as the immense duties, imposed on his subjects.

CHAP. XX.

NAPLES.—POMPEII.

Monday, June 4th, promising to be favourable for my intention of visiting the remains of Pompeii, distant about fourteen miles from Naples, my friend C⸺, and myself, engaged a curriculo to take us over to that spot; for this conveyance, we paid only twelve carlines, equal to about four shillings; but when it is recollected, that my driver could support himself and his horse through the day, for one-eighth part of that sum, the compensation ceases to be a contemptible one.

We left Naples a little before six, and after resting for breakfast at Torre del Annunciata, arrived at Pompeii about nine o’clock. Our road lay through rich vineyards, and over various beds of lava, the remains of different eruptions from Mount Vesuvius. In 1794, one town through which we passed, Torre del Greco, was destroyed by one of these awful visitations, and yet such is the attachment of the infatuated people to this situation, that a new one has arisen on the self-same spot.

We entered the suburbs of Pompeii, by the villa of the Roman, whose skeleton was found in the garden, with a purse of gold in his hand, with which he appears to have been endeavouring to escape, when arrested by the overwhelming shower of ashes. After passing these suburbs, in which we noticed a number of monuments, and receptacles for the ashes of the dead, we entered under an ancient gateway into the city itself. It is not easy to describe the sensations which rushed upon my soul, on finding myself within this monumental city, or to give that lucid description which it requires; I shall therefore not apologize for borrowing an account, which corresponds with the ideas I was personally led to form of it. I shall, however, premise, that the order of our exploration, varied from the one usually adopted by the Cicerones, who take you first to the amphitheatre; on the contrary, we commenced with those points, which strangers generally finish with, leaving the theatres and amphitheatre for the last objects of research, and thus, as it were, proceeding from small things to great ones.

“The remains of this town afford a truly interesting spectacle. It is like a resurrection from the dead; the progress of time and decay is arrested, and you are admitted to the temples, the theatres, and the domestic privacy of a people, who have ceased to exist for seventeen centuries. Nothing is wanting but the inhabitants: still, a morning’s walk through the silent streets of Pompeii, will give you a livelier idea of their modes of life, than all the books in the world. They seem like the French of the present day, to have existed only in public. Their temples, theatres, basilicas, and forums, are on the most splendid scale, but in their private dwellings, we discover little, or no attention to comfort. The houses in general, have a small court, round which the rooms are built, which are rather cells than rooms; the greater part are without windows, receiving light only from the door. There are no chimneys; the smoke of the kitchen, which is usually low and dark, must have found its way through a hole in the ceiling.

“The doors are so low, that you are obliged to stoop to pass through them. There are some traces of Mosaic flooring, and the stucco paintings, with which all the walls are covered, are but little injured; and upon their being wetted, they appear as fresh as ever. Brown, red, yellow, and blue, are the prevailing colours. It is a pity that the contents of the houses could not have been allowed to remain in the state in which they were found: but this would have been impossible. Travellers are the greatest thieves in the world. As it is, they will tear down, without scruple, the whole side of a room, to cut out a favourable specimen of the stucco painting. If it were not for this pilfering propensity, we might now see every thing as it really was left at the time of this great calamity; even to the skeleton which was found with a purse of gold in its hand. In the stocks of the guard-room, which was used as a military punishment, the skeletons of four soldiers were found sitting; but these poor fellows have now been released from their ignominious situation, and the stocks, with every thing else that was moveable, have been placed in the museum; the bones being consigned to their parent clay. Pompeii, therefore, exhibits nothing but bare walls, and the walls are without roofs; for these have been broken in, by the weight of the shower of ashes and pumice stones, that caused the destruction of the town.

“The amphitheatre is very perfect, as indeed are the two other theatres, intended for dramatic representations, though it is evident that they had sustained some injury from the earthquake, which, as we learn from Tacitus, had already much damaged this devoted town, before its final destruction by the eruption of Vesuvius. ‘Et motu terræ celebre Campaniæ oppidum Pompeii magna ex parte proruit.’—TAC. ANN. 15. c. 22.

“The paintings on the walls of the amphitheatre, represent the combats of gladiators and wild beasts, the dens of which remain just as they were seventeen hundred years ago. The two theatres for dramatic entertainments, are as close together as our own Drury Lane and Covent Garden. The larger one which might have contained five thousand persons, like the amphitheatre had no roof, but was open to the day. The stage is very much circumscribed—there is no depth, and consequently there are no side scenes; the forms and appearance are like that of our own theatres, when the drop scene is down, and forms the extent of the stage. In the back scene of the Roman stage, which instead of canvas, is composed of unchangeable brick and marble, are three doors; and there are two others on the sides, answering to our stage-doors. It seems that it was the theatrical etiquette, that the premiers roles should have their exits and entrances, through the doors of the back scene, and the inferior ones through those on the sides.

“The little theatre is covered, and in better preservation than the other; and it is supposed that this was intended for musical entertainments. The temple of Isis has suffered little injury; the statues alone have been taken away. You see the very altar on which the victims were offered, and you may now ascend without ceremony the private stairs, which led to the sanctum sanctorum of the goddess; where those mysterious rites were celebrated, the nature of which may be shrewdly guessed from the curiosities discovered there, and which are now to be seen in the Museo Borbonico. In a niche on the outside of the temple, was the statue of Harpocraes, the God of silence—who was most appropriately placed here; but

‘Foul deeds will rise
Though all the earth o’erwhelm them to men’s eyes.’

“The streets are very narrow; the marks of wheels on the pavement shew that carriages were in use, but there must have been some regulation to prevent their meeting each other; for one carriage would have occupied the whole of the street, except the narrow trottoir raised on each side for foot passengers, for whose accommodation, there are also raised stepping stones, in order to cross from one side to the other. The distances between the wheel traces, are four feet three inches.

“There is often an emblem over the door of a house, that determines the profession of its former owner. The word ‘Salve’ on one, seems to denote that it was an inn, as we have in our days the sign of ‘The Salutation.’ In the outer brick-work of another, is carved an emblem, which shocks the refinement of modern taste; but which has been an object even of religious adoration in many countries, probably as a symbol of creative power. The same device is found on the stucco of the inner court of another house, with this intimation, ‘Hic habitat Felicitas,’ a sufficient explanation of the character of its inhabitants. Many of the paintings on the walls are very elegant in the taste and design, and they often assist us in ascertaining the uses for which the different rooms were intended. For example, in the baths, we find Tritons, and Naiads; in the bed-chambers, Morpheus scatters his poppies; and in the eating-room, a sacrifice to Esculapius teaches us, that we should eat, to live;—and not live, to eat.

“In one of these rooms, are the remains of a triclinium. A baker’s shop is as plainly indicated, as if the loaves were now at his window. There is a mill for grinding the corn, and the oven for baking; and the surgeon, and the druggist, have also been traced, by the quality of the articles found in their respective dwellings.

“But the most complete specimen that we have of an ancient residence, is the villa which has been discovered, at a small distance without the gate. It is on a more splendid scale, than any of the houses in the town itself, and it has been preserved with scarcely any injury. Some have imagined that this was the Pompeianum—the Pompeian villa of Cicero. Be this as it may, it must have belonged to a man of taste. Situated on a sloping bank, the front entrance opens, as it were, into the first floor; below which, on the garden side, into which the house looks—for the door is the only aperture on the road side—is a ground floor, with spacious arcades, and open rooms, all facing the garden; and above are the sleeping-rooms. The walls and ceilings of this villa are ornamented with paintings of very elegant design, all which have a relation to the uses of the apartments in which they are placed. In the middle of the garden there is a reservoir of water, surrounded by columns, and the ancient well still remains. Though we have many specimens of Roman glass in their drinking vessels, it has been doubted, whether they were acquainted with the use of it in the windows. Swinburne, however in describing Pompeii, says, ‘In the window of a bed-chamber some panes of glass are remaining. This would seem to decide the question;—but they remain no longer.’

“The host was fond of conviviality, if we may judge from the dimension of his cellar, which extends under the whole of the house, and the arcades also, and many of the amphoræ remain, in which the wine was stowed. It was here that the skeletons of seven-and-twenty poor wretches were found, who took refuge in this place from the fiery shower that would have killed them at once, to suffer the lingering torments of being starved to death. It was in one of the porticos leading to the outward entrance, that the skeleton, supposed to be that of the master of the house, was found with a key in one hand, and a purse of gold in the other. So much for Pompeii.”—MATTHEWS.

“⸺Thus deep beneath
Earth’s bosom, and the mansions of the graves
Of men, are graves of cities. Such of late,
From its long sleep of darkness disenterr’d,
Pompeii, with its low and buried roofs,
Rose dark upon the miner’s progress, like
A city of the dead! a tomb perchance
Where living men were buried! Tyrant Death!
How didst thou triumph then! thou us’d’st to steal
Behind thy sallow harbinger disease,
Or take thine open and determinate stand
In battle’s ranks, with danger at thy side
Forewarning gallant breasts prepar’d to die;
But there—thy spect’ral visage darken’d forth,
Amid the joyous bosom-scenes of life,
From its invisible ambush! There it found,
The myriad fantasies of hearts, and brains,
Young loves, and hopes, and pleasures, all abroad,
Spreading their painted wings, and wantoning,
In life’s glad summer-breeze, from flower to flower;
And, with the fatal spell of one dread glance.
Blasted them all!—how sunk the tender maid,
Then silent to the still and stiffening clasp
Of her dead lover! Echo had not ceas’d
To catch love’s inarticulate ecstasies,
Strain’d in a first embrace—for ever, then,
Fix’d statue-like in Death’s tremendous arms
A hideous contrast! One fell moment still’d
Lovers and foes alike; workers of good,
And guilty wretches:—then the statesman’s brain,
Stopp’d in its calculation, and the bard
Sunk by his lyre;—the loud procession
Before the Temple—all the cares of life,
With action and contrivance, through the streets
Thronged multitudinous, in their busy time
Of bustle and magnificence,—and all
Life’s thousands were abroad, and the high sounds
Of civic pomp rose audible from far:—
But louder rose the terrible voice of ruin
Over their mirth, ‘BE STILL’D,’ and all was hush’d!
Save the short shudd’ring cries that rose unheard—
The up-turn’d glances from a thousand homes,
Thro’ the red closing surge! awful groan
Of agitated Nature! while beneath,
Ten thousand victims turn’d to die:—above
Bright sunbeams lit the plain—a nameless tomb.”—MATURIN.

Absorbed in feelings of the most melancholy, but tenderest nature, we commenced our return to Naples, where we arrived about five o’clock in the evening.

We experienced much thunder and lightning for a day or two, which, on the 7th were succeeded by a clear hot day. In the evening, I took a drive in a carriage, in company with Dr. K⸺ to the Lake Agnano. On our way, we passed the Grotto del Cani, or Dog’s Cave, which has the quality of being fatal to that animal when taken into it, whereas the human subject can remain within it uninjured. The cause of this phenomenon admits of easy explanation. A quantity of carbonic acid gas is disengaged from apertures, or chinks in the sides of the cavern, and from its greater specific gravity than atmospheric air, falls to the floor which is somewhat lower than the entrance: it is consequently retained there, producing its peculiar noxious effects on animals of low stature when introduced into it,—as a common-sized dog; while others of a superior height, not having their organs of respiration immersed in the injurious fluid, remain in the cave with impunity. Thus readily does philosophy, in this instance, overturn the errors of superstition; for the peculiarities of this cavern, were formerly attributed to the influence of a vengeful deity.

I did not enter the grotto, my friend having neglected to inform me of our approach to it, although the examination of it was a leading object of my evening’s drive. I should, however, have found no gratification, could I have witnessed the convulsive agonies of one of the unfortunate animals, who are kept for the purpose of demonstrating the properties of the cave, and who, after being immersed until life is nearly extinct, are then returned into a purer atmosphere, to reserve them for repeated exhibition. The exhibitors have a peculiar mode of assisting the recovery in this case; namely, to throw the poor creature into the lake. It is not easy to conceive, under suspension of vitality from such a source, how this is to contribute to its restoration. On our return, one of these dogs, consisting literally of skin and bone, was lying on the ground near the mouth of the cave. I could not but wish, that the numerous persons who visit this simple natural phenomenon, would provide themselves with bread to feed these poor animals, instead of wantonly amusing themselves with so cruel an experiment of its effects.

On approaching the Lake Agnano, my organ of smell became strongly affected, by the sulphurous exhalation proceeding from its surface, and the marshy grounds around it, and which I readily recognised to be sulphuretted hydrogen. I was astonished by the extraordinary croaking of the numerous frogs, which inhabit this lake, far exceeding any thing I had ever heard from the various froggeries of France or Italy. One would have thought that Aaron’s rod had been extended over it; they appeared to be all around, so that I fancied every step I had to take, must have crushed more or less of them to death. There was no habitation near, or the description of Exodus, chap. VIII. verse 3, must have been realized with respect to it.

CHAP. XXI.

MOUNT VESUVIUS.

Notwithstanding the representations made to me on all sides of the difficulties which must attend it, my desire to visit Mount Vesuvius was of so ardent a nature, that I certainly should have made the attempt alone, had not a friend, Mr. M., kindly volunteered to accompany me, but from whom, I have the vanity to say, I rather looked for amusement and information, than guidance and protection.

My friends endeavoured to dissuade me from this arduous undertaking, and when, after fully deciding upon the measure, I inquired in what way it was customary for others to make the ascent, replied, “Oh! they could _see_ their way up.” “Well, then,” I retorted, “I have little doubt of being able to _feel_ mine.” I must acknowledge myself annoyed by having suggestions of difficulties persisted in, which, I feel sensible in my own bosom, do not insuperably exist; nor can I admit any person, not in the same situation with myself, capable of estimating the powers, which, under the curtailment of one sense, another, in consequence, acquires.

We set off from Naples about five o’clock in the afternoon, with a view of seeing the mountain by moonlight; after passing through Portici, we reached Resina about seven o’clock, where we left the carriage to await our return, and reconvey us to Naples. Taking a conductor from the house of Salvatori, whose family are esteemed the most respectable guides of the mountain, we immediately commenced our ascent. A number of asses are constantly in attendance at this point, for the purpose of assisting such as are incapable of walking, or apprehensive of fatigue, and which are able to convey their riders two-thirds of the way towards the summit; but, in order that I might acquire a more correct idea of the nature of the road, we gave the preference to walking.

We proceeded along a fair road, until we arrived at a house about half way to the hermitage, where we rested a short time, and refreshed ourselves with wine and water; after this the road gradually became worse, and at length so bad that if I had not, on former occasions, witnessed the astonishing powers of asses and mules, I should have conceived it impossible for them to have ascended it. We reached the hermitage about half after eight o’clock, and at the suggestion of our guide, recruited ourselves with some of the hermit’s bread and wine; and then began the more arduous part of our journey. The road soon became very soft, being constituted of the light dust which had been thrown out from the crater; interspersed, however, with large and sharp stones, ejected from the same source; some of which were of such immense size, that did we not bear in mind the astonishing powers of elementary fire, we could scarcely credit the possibility of such masses being hurled to this distance, from out of the bowels of the mountain.

One of the greatest inconveniences I found in this ascent, was from the particles of ashes insinuating themselves within my shoes, and which annoyed my feet so much, that I was repeatedly compelled to take them off, in order to get rid of the irritating matter. Hence I would recommend future travellers to ascend in white leathern boots.

At length we reached the only part of the mountain, which was at this time in a burning state, and which was throwing out flames and sulphurous vapour; when the guide taking me by the arm, conducted me over a place where the fire and smoke issued from apertures between the stones we walked upon, and which we could hear crackling under our feet every instant, as if they were going to be separated, and to precipitate us into the bowels of the mountain. The sublime description of Virgil did not fail to occur to my recollection.

“By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high,
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly,
And flakes of mounting flames lick the sky;
Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown,
And shiver’d from their force come piecemeal down.
Oft liquid fires of burning sulphur glow,
Nurs’d by the fiery spring that burns below.”—DRYDEN.

My imagination, I admit, was actively alive to the possible accidents which might have occurred; I followed, however, with all the confidence which my conviction of being under the care of a cautious leader, did not fail to inspire. My guide appeared highly gratified with the incident, asserting that it was the first time one deprived of sight had ever ventured there; and adding, that he was sure it would much surprise the king, when the circumstance became known to him, in the report which is daily made of the persons who visit the mountain. The ground was too hot under our feet, and the sulphurous vapour too strong to allow of our remaining long in this situation; and when he thought he had given us a sufficient idea of the nature of this part of the mountain, we retired to a more solid and a cooler footing; previous to which, however, he directed my walking-cane towards the flames, which shrivelled the ferrule, and charred the lower part;—this I still retain as a memorial.

From hence we were conducted to the edge of a small crater, now extinguished, from whence about two months before, the Frenchman, rivalling the immortality of Empedocles—

“Deus immortalis haberi,
Dum cupit Empedocles ardentem frigidus Ætuam
Insiluit.—”—HOR.

and desirous of the glory of dying a death worthy of the great nation, plunged into the fiery abyss. The guide placed my hand on the very spot where he was stated to have last stood, before he thus rashly entered upon eternity.

I was anxious to have proceeded up the cone to the border of the superior and large crater, but our guide objected, indeed refused to conduct us to it, unless we awaited the dawn of morning; the moon, he said, was fast descending, so that we should be involved in darkness before we could attain it; and that consequently it would be attended with risk in the extreme to make the attempt.

This was a check to the completion of my anxious wishes, but our arrangements at Naples neither made it convenient to my friend, or myself, to remain until morning; nor would it have been pleasant to have spent some hours here without refreshment, more particularly as I had left my coat behind near the hermitage, and at this elevation we found it extremely cold.

After spending a short time in examining some of the immense masses of calcined rock, some of them forming solid cubes of twenty feet diameter, and which had been at different times thrown out by the volcanic power; we began to retrace our steps towards the hermitage, distant, as our guide informed us, four miles, but which must have been an over-rated estimate. As we approached this latter place, we met a party ascending the mountain, with an intention of waiting the break of day, so as to enable them to reach the very summit.

We now partook freely of the good hermit’s provisions, and enjoyed his Lachrymæ Christi, both white and red; which of course he had no objection to, as he expected to be well paid for it; he is probably influenced by motives of this nature in residing here, although he is said to enjoy a small pension from the king. The present hermit has not been long resident; the former, a very old man, having retired a few years since to spend the remnant of his days in the bosom of his family. Of course the tenant of this seclusion is a monk, but in the present day we have few instances of voluntary and solitary retirement from the busy haunts of men, on the mere score of religious feeling, and we can scarcely, in the present instance, attribute a lonely residence, in the midst of such dangerous circumstances, to this principle alone.

But the danger of the situation is probably not so great as might be imagined: to the common eruptions our recluse must be accustomed, and of course has had experience of their comparative innocence; and with respect to the more important ones, it is certain, that a variety of indicating circumstances have generally preceded them, well understood by those who are exposed to their agency, and which give timely and sufficient warning; besides, our hermit is not so solitary a being as many who move on the busy stage of life; for the number of parties that visit his cell, must afford him considerable intercourse with society, and was it otherwise, we know how much we are the creatures of habit, which can even reconcile us to incompatibles. Some think a ship a prison, nay, Dr. Johnson says, it is “the worst of prisons, for you have no means of escaping,” and yet there are many, who, from custom, are never more happy than in one.

The hermit placed his book before us, containing the names of those who had visited his cell, and we found them accumulated from all nations, and largely interspersed with observations in verse and prose; but as for their beauty and point I shall leave this to be determined by those who may think well to inspect them. My friend was anxious that I should contribute my mite to this book of scraps, when, as my mind was not a little elate, with the idea of having so easily surmounted the difficulties which my friends had urged against my present excursion, I put down a couplet to the following effect:

Some, difficulties, meet full many;
I find them not, nor seek for any.

It was in this book the Frenchman wrote his intention of destroying himself, and fortunate was it for the guide, that he made it known in this manner, and exonerated him from the suspicion, which would otherwise have attached to him, of having been implicated in his death. I understood that the agitation, into which the poor fellow was thrown from the circumstance itself, and his apprehensions of the consequences, threw him into a fever, from which he was not sufficiently recovered to be able, at this time, to leave his bed. The hermit unfortunately was unacquainted with the French language, or the dreadful catastrophe might have been prevented. The book was sent to the police, and the leaf in question taken out, and retained, and every enquiry made to prove and account for the circumstance.

Shortly after this period, I met with an English gentleman at Florence, Mr. H⸺, who had travelled from France to Naples with this unfortunate man, and lodged for a length of time in the same house with him, and who informed me that he was a merchant of Nants, which place, in consequence of his affairs becoming embarrassed, he had quitted with such money as he was enabled to collect; and which being expended, his necessities impelled him to this deliberate act of suicide, forgetting that in thus terminating his sublunary cares, he was sacrificing his hopes and interest in a future world.

“Shall worldly glory impotent and vain,
That fluctuates like the billows of the main?
Shall this with more respect thy bosom move,
Than zeal for crowns that never fade above?
Avert it Heaven! be here thy will resign’d
Religion claims this conquest o’er the mind.”

While we were upon the mountain, a party of Austrians had arrived with the intention of reposing on the couches, which the hermit is provided with for that purpose, and setting out for the crater at day-break. This is perhaps a preferable plan to the one which we had adopted.

After remaining an hour at the hermitage we re-commenced our journey to Resina by torch-light, the moon having sunk below the horizon. About three o’clock we re-entered our carriage, and at four in the morning arrived at Naples.

Before quitting the subject of Mount Vesuvius, it may be interesting to give the following extract of a description of this now quiescent volcano, when under a state of turbulence, with some observations on the causes of this interesting natural phenomenon.

“Exclusive of those periods when there are actual eruptions, the appearance and quantity of what issues from the mountain are various; sometimes, for a long space of time together, it seems in a state of almost perfect tranquillity; nothing but a small quantity of smoke ascending from the volcano, as if that vast magazine of fuel, which has kept alive for so many ages, was at last exhausted, and nothing remained but the dying embers; then, perhaps, when least expected, the cloud of smoke thickens, and is intermixed with flame; at other times, quantities of pumice-stones and ashes, are thrown up with a kind of hissing noise. For near a week the mountain has been more turbulent than it has been since the small eruption, or rather boiling over of lava, which took place about two months ago; and while we remained at the top, the explosions were of sufficient importance to satisfy our curiosity to the utmost. They appeared much more considerable there, than we had imagined while at a greater distance; each of them was preceded by a noise like thunder within the mountain, a column of thick black smoke then issued out with great rapidity, followed by a blaze of flame; and immediately after, a shower of cinders, and ashes, or red hot stones, were thrown into the sky. This was succeeded by a calm of a few minutes, during which, nothing issued but a moderate quantity of smoke and flame, which gradually increased, and terminated in thunder and explosion as before. These accesses and intervals continued with varied force while we remained.

“When we first arrived, our guides placed us at a reasonable distance from the mouth of the volcano, and on the side from which the wind came, so that we were no way incommoded by the smoke. In this situation the wind also bore to the opposite side, the cinders, ashes, and other fiery substances, which were thrown up; and we ran no danger of being hurt, except when the explosion was very violent, and when red hot stones, and such heavy substances, were thrown like sky-rockets, with a great, and prodigious force, into the air; and even these make such a flaming appearance, and take so much time in descending that they are easily avoided.”—MOORE’S VIEW, &c.

“There is no volcanic mountain in Europe, whose desolating paroxysms have been so fatally experienced, and so accurately transmitted to us, as those of Vesuvius. This mountain is well known to constitute one of the natural wonders of the kingdom of Naples. Like Parnassus, it has been said to consist of two summits, one of which, situated in a westward direction, is called by the natives Somma; and the other, running in a southern line, Proper Vesuvius, or Vesuvio; and it is this last alone, which emits fire and smoke. The two hills, or summits, are separated by a valley about a mile in length, and peculiarly fertile in its production.

“The eruptions of this mountain have been numerous in almost every age of the Christian era, and on many occasions prodigiously destructive. The eruptions of volcanoes are usually attended by some shocks like those of earthquakes, although commonly less violent. Open volcanoes continually throw out, in more or less abundance, smoke, ashes, and pumice-stones, or light cinders, but their most formidable effects are produced by a torrent of ignited lava, which, like a vast deluge of liquid, or semi-liquid fire, lays waste the country over which it runs, and buries all the work of human art. In March, 1767, Vesuvius began to throw out a considerable quantity of ashes and stones, which raised its summit in the course of the year no less than two hundred feet, forming first a little mountain of pumice-stones within the crater, which, by degrees, became visible above the margin. The smoke, which was continually emitted, was rendered luminous at night, by the light derived from the fire burning below it. In August, some lava had broken through this mountain, and in September, it had filled the space left between it and the former crater. On the 13th and 14th of October, there were heavy rains, which, perhaps, supplied the water concerned in the eruption that shortly followed.

“On the morning of the 19th, clouds of smoke were forced, in continual succession, out of the mouth of the volcano, forming a mass like a large pine-tree, which was lengthened into an arch, and extended to the island of Caprea, twenty-eight miles off; it was accompanied by much lightning, and by an appearance of meteors like shooting stars. A mouth then opened below the crater, and discharged a stream of lava, which Sir William Hamilton ventured to approach within a short distance, imagining that the violence of the confined materials, must have been exhausted; but on a sudden, the mountain opened with a great noise at a much lower point, about a quarter of a mile from the place where he stood, and threw out a torrent of lava, which advanced straight towards him, while he was involved in a shower of small pumice-stones and ashes, and in a cloud of smoke. The force of the explosions were so great, that doors and windows were thrown open by them at the distance of several miles. The stream of lava was in some places two miles broad, and sixty or seventy feet deep; it extended about six miles from the summit of the mountain, and remained hot for several weeks.

“In 1794, a still more violent eruption occurred; it was expected by the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, the crater being nearly filled, and the water in the wells having subsided; showers of immense stones were projected to a great height, and ashes were thrown out so copiously, that they were very thick at Taranto, two hundred and fifty miles off; some of them were also wet with salt water. A heavy noxious vapour, supposed to be carbonic acid, issued in many places from the earth, and destroyed the vineyards in which it was suffered to remain stagnant. A part of the town of Torre de Greco was overwhelmed by a stream of lava, which ran through it into the sea.

“The shocks of earthquakes and the eruptions of volcanoes, are, in all probability, modifications of the effects of one common cause: the same countries are subject to both of them; and where the agitation produced by an earthquake extends farther than there is any reason to suspect a subterraneous commotion, it is probably propagated through the earth nearly in the same manner as a noise conveyed through the air.

“Volcanoes are found in almost all parts of the world, but most commonly in the neighbourhood of the sea; and especially in small islands: for instance, Italy, Sicily, Japan, the Caribbees, the Cape Verd islands, the Canaries, and the Azores: there are also numerous volcanoes in Mexico, and Peru, especially Pichincha, and Cotopaxi. The subterraneous fires, which are constantly kept up in an open volcano, depend, perhaps in general, on sulphurous combinations, and decompositions, like the heating of a heap of wet pyrites, or an union of sulphur and iron filings: but in other cases, they may, perhaps, approach more nearly to the nature of common fires. A mountain of coal has been burning in Siberia for nearly a century, and most probably has undermined, in some degree, the neighbouring country.

“The immediate cause of an eruption appears to be very frequently an admission of water from the sea, or from subterraneous reservoirs; it has often happened that boiling water has frequently been discharged in great quantities from a volcano; and the force of steam, is, perhaps, more adequate to the production of violent explosions, than any other power in nature. The consequence of such an admission of water, into an immense collection of ignited materials, may, in some measure, be understood, from the accidents which occasionally happen in foundries; thus, a whole furnace of melted iron was a few years ago dissipated into the air in Colebrook Dale, by the effects of a flood which suddenly overflowed it. The phenomena of earthquakes and volcanoes are amply illustrated by the particular accounts, transmitted to the Royal Society by Sir William Hamilton, of those which have happened at different times in Italy.”—POLEHAMPTON.

Notwithstanding the extraordinary exertions of the preceding night, I arose at nine o’clock on the following morning, without being sensible of any inconvenience, and commenced my preparations for leaving Naples. My friend C⸺ had engaged to accompany me, which promised to be, indeed, an important accession to my comforts and gratifications, as I was sure of not only a warmly attached friend, but a most amusing and intelligent fellow-traveller, from whom I was certain to derive essential advantages, as he was well acquainted with almost every European language. Perhaps few had experienced more vicissitudes of fortune than this gentleman, or been exposed to a greater variety of dangers and adventures, many of which bordered not a little on the romantic.

The following incidents, which are of recent occurrence, appear so interesting, that I cannot deny myself the pleasure of relating them. On returning from South America, in the beginning of the year 1815, he visited Paris; and soon afterwards Bonaparte regained possession of it. One day as he was passing through an encampment near the city, his passport was demanded by the soldiers, when he presented them with an American one; he was immediately accused of being a spy, and taken before the commandant, who debated whether he should be instantly put to death, or sent a prisoner to Paris: the latter plan was, however, adopted. On their way, his escort of infantry were overtaken by a party of intoxicated dragoons, who wanted to take their prisoner from them, and who on being refused, made attempts to effect their purpose by force. They were however disappointed, the infantry placing my friend against a wall, and protecting him from their efforts to cut him down with their sabres; they succeeded at length in conducting him safe to the General Commandant at Paris. This officer was soon satisfied with his innocence, and liberated him, directing at the same time one of his aid-de-camps to accompany him into the street, and there shake hands with him, in order to convince the mob that he was a friend.