Chapter XX: Part 20

“The works of art found in Herculaneum are in general much better than those from Pompeii, and every external sign proves it to have been a town of more refinement and wealth than its neighbor. Numerous statues in bronze and marble have been collected from these cities, and a large hall in the museum is devoted to their exhibition. Many are mythological, but busts and statues of the several emperors are also common. One bronze horse, considerably injured and corroded, has been found, and an admirable bronze Hercules. The candelabra were numerous and elegant. One we observed fitted to take apart for the convenience of traveling; its sliding rod drops into a case or sheath, and the tripod foot folds together as snugly as the wing of a bird. A very beautiful candelabrum, taken from the house of Diomede, has a basis formed of a small flat table of bronze standing upon feet. It is elegantly inlaid with silver in the form of a running vine and of leaves; some portions have been burnished, to give an idea of its original beauty. A perpendicular rod rises three feet in hight, and supports a cross upon which are suspended four lamps. All the parts are preserved; and were this tasteful candelabrum put in order and burnished, it would be a fine form for our modern artists to copy, who, indeed, often profit by ancient models.

“The Roman steelyards had a scale suspended so as to receive the thing to be weighed, and the weight slid, as with us, upon a graduated beam; in one the counterpoise is fashioned into an elegant female head. There is a collection of surgical instruments, some of them very similar to those used at the present day. Iron probes, iron teeth extractors, elevators for the operation of trepanning, a cauterizing iron, lancets, catheters, amputating instruments, spatulas and obstetric forceps. Along with these things are rolls of the apothecary, ready to be divided into _pills_. The articles of the _toilet_ are abundant; pins of ivory in large numbers and great variety for the hair; combs, curling-tongs, boxes for perfumes and rouge, which is preserved in a small glass bottle; mirrors of metal, small, but sufficient for a lady’s face, and reflectors, to be used probably in a position to give seasonable notice of the approach of a visitor from the vestibule, similar to the arrangement now common in Holland and Germany. Numerous small objects attracted our attention, among which were the ivory dice, and tickets of bone or ivory for admission to the theater, marked and numbered. Musical instruments were common; among them numerous flutes or flageolets, prepared from bone. Numerous bronze penates, truly =dii minores=, often less than a finger’s length in hight, some partly finished, are to be seen in the museum at Naples.

“There is an apartment here, finished in the style of an ancient Roman house. This is in the extreme end of one of the long suites of rooms. The sky-blue panels have each, in the center, a female figure, volant or quiet; the upper part of the side walls, and of the dome, is divided into compartments, which are decorated by colored lines and forms of great beauty, the entire effect of which is charming. The eye delights to dwell upon them, and would never be tired, because the beauty, although exquisite, is simple and tasteful. We saw in the museum, as already mentioned, the helmet and skull of the Roman sentinel found at his post in the city gate at Pompeii, with his short sword by his side; there, too, was the complete armor of a Roman knight with a decorated and crested helmet, with figures embossed upon the breast-plate, and the coverings of the arms and limbs. We must not forget the iron stocks for punishment. A bar of iron or bronze of great weight had metallic projections standing upward, between which the feet were placed, and secured by a cross pin. It does not appear that the head was pinioned, as in modern times; but we could well understand how the feet of the apostles were rendered lame by confinement in the Roman stocks.

“The hall of ancient sculpture, chiefly from Pompeii and Herculaneum, with some figures from Rome, powerfully attracted our attention. These sculptures, usually of full size, and sometimes colossal, are very fine. Excellent, manly forms, and noble, elevated features of men, and of women, worthy of such companions, with great variety of characteristic attitude, and in general, in full costume, served to convey to us, as we may believe, a very perfect idea of the personal appearance of Roman citizens of that age. The family of Balbus found in Herculaneum, is particularly interesting. It is composed of the father, a noble figure, the mother, equally impressive, and sons and daughters worthy of such parentage. Their features are calm and mild. It is a most interesting group, and in perfect preservation. The moral and intellectual expression of the figures in these rooms—through a long series of apartments and a host of figures—is as various as that of living people.

“It is convenient to introduce here a notice of the Farnesian bull; for this inimitable piece of sculpture is in this place, although it was not found interred in Pompeii or Herculaneum, but buried among the ruins of the baths of Caracalla. A large bull, of perfect and beautiful form, is rearing upon his hind legs, as if about to bound away in his course; but this he is prevented from doing, as he is powerfully held by the horns and the nose by two resolute, athletic young men, one on each side, who have him in such durance that his massive neck is wrinkled in large folds, as he turns his head backward in his efforts to escape from their grasp. The cause of the struggle becomes apparent, when we glance at a fine female form recumbent, and see that her abundant tresses are interwoven with the strands of a rope which is noosed around the horns of the bull, and it flashes at once on the mind, that should the maddened animal escape from his keepers, she will be quickly torn in pieces. Her noble sons have, in a critical moment, sprung forward to her rescue, and are just able to arrest her impending fate. Filial love proves to be stronger than disapprobation of an imputed fault, for which their mother was to have been immolated by this horrible death. In such a crisis we are not careful to balance the moral question: we instinctively applaud the filial piety, and do not ask for the spirit of Brutus. This wonderful group was sculptured out of a single block of marble of nine feet eight inches by thirteen feet, by Appollonius and Tauriscus, two artists in Greece, from which country it was brought, to grace the baths of Caracalla. It is truly wonderful that such a ponderous mass, embracing so many figures, could be brought over seas, from a distant country, to Rome, and again be transported from that city to Naples, without injury, after being buried for fifteen centuries in the baths of Caracalla.

HERCULANEUM.

“The same eruption which destroyed Pompeii, Stabiæ, Oplontia and Teglanum, entombed Herculaneum also. Its site was, however, unknown, as well as that of the other buried towns; and the fatal event is only occasionally alluded to by the Roman writers. In the year 63, an earthquake had shattered these cities, a precursor of their coming doom. In 1711, a peasant, in digging a well, discovered, at twenty feet depth, pieces of colored marble. In 1713, the digging being continued, they struck down into a temple, and discovered the statues of Cleopatra and Hercules; and subsequent explorations disclosed the theater. Our time being very fully occupied with Pompeii on the day when we were there, we reserved to another opportunity a visit to Herculaneum. We descended quite conveniently down steps of stone, and arrived at the pit of the theater, seventy-nine feet below the level of the main street of Portici, and Torre del Greco. With a guide, we proceeded, by the light of candles and torches, until we came to this subterranean theater, which had been filled with volcanic materials. I do not call it lava, because there is every reason to believe that, like Pompeii, Herculaneum was buried by pumice, cinders, ashes, lapilli and sand. There has been much discussion on this subject; but had the buildings of Herculaneum been inclosed in heated lava, it is obvious that every fresco painting and marble would have been destroyed, and much more, the numerous papyri and other substances of an organic character, which have been found there. Now it happens that the frescoes of Herculaneum, so far as it has been uncovered, are not only of a higher character in respect of art than those in Pompeii, but also in better preservation. The solidity of the material enveloping Herculaneum is easily understood, when we remember that it has been for over seventeen hundred years under the enormous pressure of seventy or eighty feet of superincumbent rock. Since the catastrophe of August, A. D. 79, numerous flows of molten lava have passed over the site of Herculaneum; and these successive accumulations have amounted to the thickness just named. Add the effects of water, dissolving lime and silica, and infiltrating these materials among the loose pumice, and we see cause enough to account for the solidification of these loose materials. Moreover, no sluggish and semi-viscid lava (such as the Vesuvian lavas a short distance from their outlet always are) could ever have entered all the intricate passages of the theater and other buildings; while a fluid magma of volcanic mud would act in the same situation just as it is now found, like plaster of Paris in a mold.

“When we see with what labor and expense the excavations have been made in Herculaneum, and how difficult it is to dispose of the materials, which must be borne a long way through narrow passages like the galleries of a mine, and raised nearly one hundred feet to the surface, where a populous town forbids the accumulation of rubbish; we are the more easily reconciled to the suspension of the labor, and to the throwing of the fragments into cavities that had been previously excavated, and from which all interesting matters had been removed.

“Discoveries in Herculaneum have been very numerous, but are so similar to those made in Pompeii that it is unnecessary to go much into detail beyond what has been already mentioned. This city being, in fact, contemporary with Pompeii, we should, of course, expect to find great similarity. It would seem, however, to have been a grander city, and probably more populous. It has been computed that the theater would contain ten thousand people, which would imply a large population. Two temples were discovered, one of them one hundred and fifty feet by sixty. This contained a statue of Jupiter. Opposite to this was another building of two hundred and twenty-eight feet by one hundred and thirty-two, supposed to have been constructed for the courts of justice. It had a colonnade supporting a portico; its pavement was of marble, its walls were frescoed, and there were bronze statues standing between the forty-two columns that supported the roof.

“The theater is now the only public place that can be seen in Herculaneum, and the excavations have brought its form very distinctly into view. Its marble seats and the pit have been so far cleared, that we distinctly comprehend the design and plan. The galleries of access from the streets, and some of the rooms that were appendages of the theater, have been opened. It appears to have had two principal gates and seven entrances, called vomitories. Many statues, and mosaics, and frescoes, have been found in Herculaneum, and some of them, especially the statues, are of surpassing beauty. We were desirous to see the famed impression of a mask, and by holding a candle near to it the form could be distinctly seen. The impression is in concave, and is that of a strongly marked face of an adult; the copy is well defined, and corresponds perfectly with a molding made by soft aqueous materials, and not at all to one made by lava.

“The well, by which the light was originally let down upon the theater, of course attracted our attention. It is now enlarged into a pit of fifteen to twenty feet in diameter, and narrowed toward the bottom to the size of a common well; it descends far below the bottom of the theater, and, like other wells, contains water. A flood of light flows down through this orifice; and it is cheering to pass from the dark chambers of the theater, to look up again upon the light of heaven. The subterranean walk, aided by candles, of which each person carries one, is, however, far from being unpleasant. Steps are cut in the solid mass, all obstacles are cleared away, and although we find it cool and damp, it is not gloomy, but in a high degree solemn and impressive. We are walking in an ancient tomb—the tomb of a buried city—a city which was large and populous. It was active with pleasure and business long before our Saviour was on earth, and it was overwhelmed while some of his apostles were still alive. How different was our situation here and at Pompeii. In the latter city we walked the streets in open day and on the common level: here, we were deep down in a stony sepulcher; the mansions of the departed were all around us, but they were wrapped in solid rock. The rumbling of the carriages in the streets of another city, whose busy population was passing nearly one hundred feet above our heads, was loud and incessant. It was an earthquake from above, and we could easily understand how the earthquake from below should so readily propagate its vibrations through many miles, or hundreds of miles, of solid materials. Among the interesting places heretofore excavated, but now filled again, were the basilica, the market, the scholæ, a columbarium, and the so-called villa of Aristides, in which papyrus, bronzes, rare mosaics, and all things that attested to the wealth and taste of the proprietor, were found. In excavations made prior to 1728 they found the most splendid house of the ancients that had ever been seen by modern eyes.

“A great work on Herculaneum was published by royal authority, in the thirty-eight years intervening between 1754 and 1792, in nine folio volumes, including the pictures, lamps, bronzes and candelabra; seven hundred and thirty-eight pictures were named in the catalogue, and the other articles were proportionally numerous. The work was presented, by royal munificence, to the principal public libraries of Europe.

“Both Herculaneum and Pompeii were mentioned with commendation by Cicero. Both appear to have been favorite residences of the opulent Romans; both towns were in the first class of provincial cities, and Herculaneum especially was adorned by many villas. They had all the public establishments that were usual in Rome. Indeed, the entire circuit, from Cape Misenum around through the towns and villages of the bay of Baiæ, and onward through Naples to Herculaneum, and Pompeii, and Stabiæ, appears to have been within the range of Roman sumptuousness, and a cherished resort for rural retirement from the eternal city.

“The =papyri= of Pompeii are generally illegible, being penetrated by the pulverulent material, which, aided by water, had usurped the place of the vegetable matter, or assimilated it to coal; a portion of it was found to be soluble in naphtha. Those buried in Herculaneum were not penetrated by the enveloping matter; and the inscriptions, although black like tinder, could still be read, as writing can often be seen upon burnt paper. The papyri MSS. were generally written in Greek; a few are in Latin. There is much variety of chirography, and there are many erasures. Tickets were attached to the bundles, stating the title of the work. In a single villa in Herculaneum were found sixteen hundred and ninety-six rolls of papyrus, of the eighteen hundred thus far known. In 1819, four hundred and seven of the sixteen hundred and ninety-six had been unrolled, of which only eighty-eight were legible; twenty-four had been sent as presents to foreign princes; of the remaining twelve hundred and sixty-five, only from eighty to one hundred and twenty were in a state to promise any success, according to the chemical method at that time recommended by Sir Humphrey Davy. The titles of four hundred of those least injured, which have been read, although new are unimportant, music, rhetoric and cookery being the chief subjects. There are two volumes of Epicurus on Nature, and there are other works by that school. The rolls, in their coiled condition, were scarcely a span long, and two or three inches thick; they were made of pieces of Egyptian papyrus, glued together; some of the rolls were, when extended, forty or fifty feet long. The method found most successful for unrolling the papyri is to suspend them by silk cords in a glass case; and by attaching the delicate lining membrane of some species of bird to the back, with the aid of silken cords and regulated weights suspended by pulleys, gravity slowly unfolds the brittle tissue at a rate of almost inappreciable tardiness. We were permitted to see this curious process.

“A little further from Vesuvius than Pompeii, but in the same direction, was Stabiæ, which was covered at the same time with the other cities. The town of Castel del Mare is built over a portion of it. A part of Stabiæ was excavated, but has been covered again, so that at present there is nothing of it to be seen. Some manuscripts on papyrus were found there, as at Herculaneum, but very few skeletons have been discovered; it is probable that most of the inhabitants had time to make their escape. I have elsewhere alluded to the death of the elder Pliny, which happened here. As commander of the Roman fleet, he was stationed on the opposite side of the bay, at Cape Misenum; but the splendid outburst of Vesuvius, then novel, induced him, prompted by his humanity and by his zeal in natural science, to cross over with a few attendants; he approached too near, and was constrained to remain over night. Being corpulent and of an asthmatic habit, he was suffocated by the deadly gases exhaled in the volcanic tempest, which proved too much for his peculiar condition, and he died on the spot. The affecting and beautiful narrative written by his nephew, the younger Pliny, addressed to the historian Tacitus, is familiar to the readers of Roman literature, and can never be perused without a deep and painful interest.”

We would merely add, in closing this long but deeply interesting narrative of the buried cities, that it is supposed that about one-third of the entire city of Pompeii is now uncovered, including four principal streets, and all the important buildings of the ancient city. A long street, leading to the Stabian gate, is now being excavated; and in this street, one of the most remarkable discoveries has been made of any which have yet occurred; _viz._, _that of the complete roofing of a house_. As already stated, Pompeii, having been destroyed by falling ashes, and then covered with earth, had suffered the loss of the roofs of its houses. Indeed, some supposed they had been carried away by a whirlwind which they imagined must have preceded or attended the volcanic eruption. The little care used in clearing away the incumbent matter, had left us in the dark as to the construction of the ancient roofings. But quite recently, this discovery has been made of a complete roof of a house, formed of tiles, each about twelve inches square, with coping tiles running between them; and over the backbone, so to speak, of the construction, a cement was applied to make the roofing water-tight. So perfect is this roof, that it might have been constructed yesterday; and it would suit a modern English or American cottage as well as a Roman dwelling. The whole is now inclosed in a railing, and for the present will not probably be removed.

EARTHQUAKES.

“He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth: he toucheth the hills, and they smoke.”—PSALMS.

“Towers, temples, palaces,
Flung from their deep foundations, roof on roof
Crushed horrible, and pile on pile o’erturned,
Fall total.”—MALLET.

“The globe around earth’s hollow surface shakes,
And is the ceiling of her sleeping sons.
O’er devastation we blind revels keep;
Whose buried towns support the dancer’s heel.”—YOUNG.

That fires, to a very great extent, and produced by various causes, exist at different depths beneath the surface of the earth, must be entirely evident to those who have perused the accounts of volcanoes in our previous pages; and recent experiments have shown, that where the substances in which such fires occur, lie at a considerable depth, and are surmounted by a very deep and heavy superincumbent pressure, more especially when they contain large portions of elastic gases, the effect of such fires will be much greater, and more diversified, than where these circumstances are absent.

Among the most powerful and extraordinary of these effects earthquakes are to be reckoned. They are unquestionably the most dreadful of the phenomena of nature, and are not confined to those countries which, from the influence of climate, their vicinity to volcanic mountains, or any other similar cause, have been considered as more particularly subject to them, their effects having oft been felt in North America, although not in so extensive and calamitous a degree. Their shocks and the eruptions of volcanoes, have been considered as modifications of the effects of one common cause; and where the agitation produced by an earthquake extends further than there is reason to suspect a subterraneous commotion, it is probably propagated through the earth nearly in the same way that a noise is conveyed through the air. The different hypotheses which have been imagined on this subject may be reduced to the following. Some naturalists have ascribed earthquakes to water, others to fire, and others, again, to air; each of these powerful agents being supposed to operate in the bowels of the earth, which they assert to abound everywhere with huge subterraneous caverns, veins and canals, some filled with water, others with gaseous exhalations, and others replete with various substances, such as niter, sulphur, bitumen and vitriol. Each of these opinions has its advocates, who have written copiously on the subject.

In a paper published in the “Philosophical Transactions,” Dr. Lister ascribes earthquakes, as well as thunder and lightning, to the inflammable breath of the pyrites, a substantial sulphur, capable of spontaneous combustion; in a word, as Pliny had observed before him, he supposes an earthquake to be nothing more than subterraneous thunder. Dr. Woodward thinks, that the subterraneous fire which continually raises the water from the abyss, or great reservoir, in the center of the earth, for the supply of dew, rain, springs and rivers, being diverted from its ordinary course by some accidental obstruction in the pores through which it is used to ascend to the surface, becomes, by such means, preternaturally assembled in a greater quantity than usual, in one place, and thus causes a rarefaction and intumescence of the water of the abyss, throwing it into greater commotions, and at the same time making the like effort on the earth, which, being expanded on the surface of the abyss, occasions an earthquake. Mr. Mitchell supposes these phenomena to be occasioned by subterraneous fires, which, if a large quantity of water be let loose on them suddenly, may produce a vapor, the quantity and elastic force of which may fully suffice for the purpose. Again, M. Amontus, a member of the French Academy of Sciences, endeavors to prove, that, on the principle of experiments made on the weight and elasticity of the air, a moderate degree of heat may bring that element into a state capable of causing earthquakes.

Modern electrical discoveries have thrown much light on this subject. Dr. Stukely strenuously denies that earthquakes are to be ascribed to subterraneous winds, fires or vapors, and thinks that there is not any evidence of the cavernous structure of the earth, which such a hypothesis requires. Subterraneous vapors he thinks, are altogether inadequate to the effects produced by earthquakes, more particularly in cases where the shock is of considerable extent: for a subterraneous power, capable of moving a surface of earth only thirty miles in diameter, must be lodged at least fifteen or twenty miles below the surface, and move an inverted cone of solid earth, whose basis is thirty miles in diameter, and its axis fifteen or twenty miles, which he thinks absolutely impossible. How much more inconceivable is it, then, that any such power could have produced the earthquake of 1755, which was felt in various parts of Europe and Africa, and in the Atlantic ocean; or that which in Asia Minor, in the seventeenth year of the Christian era, destroyed thirteen great cities in one night, and shook a mass of earth three hundred miles in diameter. To effect this, the moving power, supposing it to have been internal fire or vapor, must have been lodged two hundred miles beneath the surface of the earth! Besides, in earthquakes, the effect is instantaneous; whereas the operation of elastic vapor, and its discharge, must be gradual, and require a long space of time; and if these be owing to explosions, they must alter the surface of the country where they happen, destroy the fountains and springs, and change the course of its rivers, results which are contradicted by history and observation.

To these and other considerations the doctor adds, that the strokes which ships receive during an earthquake, must be occasioned by something which can communicate motion with much greater velocity than any heaving of the earth under the sea, caused by the elasticity of generated vapors, which would merely produce a gradual swell, and not such an impulsion of the water as resembles a violent blow on the bottom of a ship, or its striking on a rock. Hence he deems the common hypothesis insufficient, and adduces several reasons to show that earthquakes are in reality electric shocks. To confirm this opinion, he notices, among other phenomena, either preceding or attending earthquakes, that the weather is usually dry and warm for some time before they happen, and that the surface of the ground is thus previously prepared for that kind of electrical vibration in which they consist; while, at the same time, in several places where they have occurred, the internal parts, at a small depth beneath the surface, were moist and boggy. Hence he infers, that they reach very little beneath the surface. That the southern regions are more subject to earthquakes than the northern, he thinks is owing to the greater warmth and dryness of the earth and air, which are qualities so necessary to electricity. It may here be noticed, that, before the earthquakes of London, in 1749, all vegetation was remarkably forward; and it is well known, that electricity quickens vegetation. The frequent and singular appearance of boreal and austral _auroræ_, and the variety of meteors by which earthquakes are preceded, indicate an electrical state of the atmosphere; and the doctor apprehends that, in this state of the earth and air, nothing more is necessary to produce these phenomena, than the approach of a non-electric cloud, and the discharge of its contents, on any part of the earth, when in a highly electrified state. In the same way as the discharge from an excited tube occasions a commotion in the human body, so the shock produced by the discharge between the cloud and many miles in compass of solid earth, must be an earthquake, and the snap from the contact the noise attending it.

The theory of M. de St. Lazare differs from the above hypothesis, as to the electrical cause. It ascribes the production of earthquakes to the interruption of the equilibrium between the electrical matter diffused in the atmosphere, and that which belongs to the mass of our globe, and pervades its bowels. If the electrical fluid should be superabundant, as may happen from a variety of causes, its current, by the laws of motion peculiar to fluids, is carried toward those places where it is in a similar quantity; and thus it will sometimes pass from the internal parts of the globe into the atmosphere. This happening, if the equilibrium be reëstablished without difficulty, the current merely produces the effect of what M. de St. Lazare calls ascending thunder; but if this reëstablishment be opposed by considerable and multiplied obstacles, the consequence is then an earthquake, the violence and extent of which are in exact proportion to the degree of interruption of the equilibrium, the depth of the electric matter, and the obstacles which are to be surmounted. If the electric furnace be sufficiently large and deep to give rise to the formation of a conduit or issue, the production of a volcano will follow, its successive eruptions being, according to him, nothing more in reality than electric repulsions of the substances contained in the bowels of the earth. From this reasoning he endeavors to deduce the practicability of forming a counter-earthquake, and a counter-volcano, by means of certain electrical conductors, which he describes, so as to prevent these convulsions in the bowels of the earth.

The opinion of Signior Beccaria is nearly similar; and from his hypothesis and that of Dr. Stukely, the celebrated Priestly has endeavored to form one still more general and more feasible. He supposes the electric fluid to be, in some mode or other, accumulated on one part of the surface of the earth, and, on account of the dryness of the season, not to diffuse itself readily: it may thus, as Beccaria conjectures, force its way into the higher regions of the air, forming clouds out of the vapors which float in the atmosphere, and may occasion a sudden shower, which may further promote its progress. The whole surface being thus unloaded, will, like any other conducting substance, receive a concussion, either on parting with, or on receiving any quantity of the electric fluid. The rushing noise will likewise sweep over the whole extent of the country; and, on this supposition also, the fluid, in its discharge from the surface of the earth, will naturally follow the course of the rivers, and will take the advantage of any eminences to facilitate its ascent into the higher regions of the air.

Such are the arguments in favor of the electrical hypothesis; but, since it has been supported with so much ability, an ingenious writer, Whitehurst, in his “Inquiry into the Original State and Formation of the Earth,” contends that subterraneous fire, and the steam generated from it, are the true and real causes of earthquakes. When, he observes, it is considered that the expansive force of steam is to that of gunpowder as twenty-eight to one, it may be conceded that this expansive force, and the elasticity of steam, are in every way capable of producing the stupendous effects attributed to these phenomena. This is, now, the almost universally received theory as to the cause of earthquakes, that they originate in the same general causes which produce volcanoes; that is, from the action of the heat and fires that are found in the interior of the earth. When these fires find ready vent, they produce the overflowing volcano; but when shut up and confined, their force is so great as to shake the solid crust of the globe which covers them.

Among the most striking phenomena of earthquakes, which present a fearful assemblage of the combined effects of air, earth, fire and water, in a state of unrestrained contention, may be noticed the following. Before the percussion a rumbling sound is heard, proceeding either from the air, or from fire, or, perhaps, from both in conjunction, forcing their way through the chasms of the earth, and endeavoring to liberate themselves: this, as has been seen, likewise happens in volcanic eruptions. Secondly, a violent agitation or heaving of the sea, sometimes preceding, and sometimes following the shock: this is also a volcanic effect. Thirdly, a spouting up of the waters to a great hight, a phenomenon which is common to earthquakes and volcanoes, and which can not be readily accounted for. Fourthly, a rocking of the earth, and, occasionally, what may be termed a perpendicular rebounding: this diversity has been supposed by some naturalists to arise chiefly from the situation of the place, relatively to the subterraneous fire, which, when immediately beneath, causes the earth to rise, and when at a distance, to rock. Fifthly, earthquakes are sometimes observed to travel onward, so as to be felt in different countries at different hours of the same day. This may be accounted for by the violent shock given to the earth at one place, and communicated progressively by an undulatory motion, successively affecting different regions as it passes along, in the same way as the blow given by a stone thrown into a lake, is not perceived at the shore until some time after the first concussion. Sixthly, the shock is sometimes instantaneous, like the explosion of gunpowder, and sometimes tremulous, lasting for several minutes. The nearer to the observer the place where the shock is first given, the more instantaneous and simple it appears; while, at a greater distance, the earth seems to redouble the first blow, with a sort of vibratory continuation. Lastly, as the waters have in general so great a share in the production of earthquakes, it is not surprising that they should generally follow the breaches made by the force of fire, and appear in the great chasms opened by the earth.

EARTHQUAKES OF ANCIENT TIMES.

The earliest earthquake, worthy of notice, of which we have any record, was that which in the year 63 so severely injured Herculaneum and Pompeii, and from the effects of which they had not been restored when they were overwhelmed by the volcano. Some of the most remarkable earthquakes of ancient times are described by Pliny. Among the most extensive and destructive of these, was the one already noticed, by which thirteen cities in Asia Minor were swallowed up in one night. Another which succeeded, shook the greater part of Italy. But the most extraordinary one, described by him, happened during the consulate of Lucius Marcus and Sextus Julius, in the Roman province of Mutina. He relates, that two mountains felt so tremendous a shock, that they seemed to approach and retire with a most dreadful noise. They at the same time, and in the middle of the day, cast forth fire and smoke, to the dismay of the astonished spectator. By this shock several towns were destroyed, and all the animals in their vicinity killed. During the reign of Trajan, the city of Antioch was, together with a great part of the adjacent country, destroyed by an earthquake; and about three hundred years after, during the reign of Justinian, it was again destroyed, with the loss of forty thousand of its inhabitants. Lastly, after an interval of sixty years, that ill-fated city was a third time overwhelmed, with a loss of sixty thousand souls. The earthquake which happened at Rhodes, upward of two hundred years before the Christian era, threw down the famous colossus, together with the arsenal, and a great part of the walls of the city. In the year 1182, the greater part of the cities of Syria, and of the kingdom of Jerusalem, were destroyed by a similar catastrophe; and in 1594, the Italian writers describe an earthquake at Puteoli, which occasioned the sea to retire two hundred yards from its former bed.

EARTHQUAKE IN CALABRIA.

The dreadful earthquake which happened in Calabria, in 1638, is described by the Jesuit Kircher, who was at that time on his way to Sicily to visit Mount Etna. In approaching the gulf of Charybdis, it appeared to whirl round in such a manner as to form a vast hollow, verging to a point in the center. On looking toward Etna, it was seen to emit large volumes of smoke, of a mountainous size, which entirely covered the whole island, and obscured from his view the very shores. This, together with the dreadful noise, and the sulphurous stench, which was strongly perceptible, filled him with apprehensions that a still more dreadful calamity was impending. The sea was agitated, covered with bubbles, and had altogether a very unusual appearance. His surprise was still more increased by the serenity of the weather, there not being a breath of air, nor a cloud, which might be supposed to put all nature thus in motion. He therefore warned his companions that an earthquake was approaching, and landed with all possible diligence at Tropæa, in Calabria.

He had scarcely reached the Jesuits’ college, when his ears were stunned with a horrid sound, resembling that of an infinite number of chariots driven fiercely forward, the wheels rattling, and the thongs cracking. The tract on which he stood seemed to vibrate, as if he had been in the scale of a balance which still continued to waver. The motion soon becoming more violent, he was thrown prostrate on the ground. The universal ruin around him now redoubled his amazement: the crash of falling houses, the tottering of towers, and the groans of the dying, all contributed to excite emotions of terror and despair. Danger threatened him wherever he should flee; but, having remained unhurt amid the general concussion, he resolved to venture for safety, and reached the shore, almost terrified out of his reason. Here he found his companions, whose terrors were still greater than his own. He landed on the following day at Rochetta, where the earth still continued to be violently agitated. He had, however, scarcely reached the inn at which he intended to lodge, when he was once more obliged to return to the boat: in about half an hour the greater part of the town, including the inn, was overwhelmed, and the inhabitants buried beneath its ruins.

Not finding any safety on land, and exposed, by the smallness of the boat to a very hazardous passage by sea, he at length landed at Lopizium, a castle midway between Tropæa and Euphæmia, the city to which he was bound. Here, wherever he turned his eyes, nothing but scenes of ruin and horror appeared: towns and castles were leveled to the ground; while Stromboli, although sixty miles distant, was seen to vomit flames in an unusual manner, and with a noise which he could distinctly hear. From remote objects his attention was soon diverted to contiguous danger: the rumbling sound of an approaching earthquake, with which he was by this time well acquainted, alarmed him for the consequences. Every instant it grew louder, as if approaching; and the spot on which he stood shook so dreadfully, that being unable to stand, he and his companions caught hold of the shrubs which grew nearest to them, and in that manner supported themselves.

This violent paroxysm having ceased, he now thought of prosecuting his voyage to Euphæmia, which lay within a short distance. Turning his eyes toward that city, he could merely perceive a terrific dark cloud, which seemed to rest on the place. He was the more surprised at this, as the weather was remarkably serene. Waiting, therefore, until this cloud had passed away, he turned to look for the city; but, alas! it was totally sunk, and in its place a dismal and putrid lake was to be seen. All was a melancholy solitude, a scene of hideous desolation. Such was the fate of the city of Euphæmia; and the other devastating effects of this earthquake were so great, that along the whole coast of that part of Italy, for the space of two hundred miles, the remains of ruined towns and villages were everywhere to be seen, and the inhabitants, without dwellings, dispersed over the fields. Kircher at length terminated his distressful voyage, by reaching Naples, after having escaped a variety of perils both by sea and land.

THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE OF 1755.

This very remarkable and destructive earthquake extended over a tract of at least four millions of square miles. It appears to have originated beneath the Atlantic ocean, the waves of which received almost as violent a concussion as the land. Its effects were even extended to the waters, in many places where the shocks were not perceptible. It pervaded the greater portions of the continents of Europe, Africa and America; but its extreme violence was exercised on the south-western part of the former.

Lisbon, the Portuguese capital, had already suffered greatly from an earthquake in 1531; and, since the calamity about to be described, has had three such visitations, in 1761, 1765, and 1772, which were not, however, attended by equally disastrous consequences. In the present instance it had been remarked that since the commencement of the year 1750, less rain had fallen than had been known in the memory of the oldest of the inhabitants, unless during the spring preceding the calamitous event. The summer had been unusually cool; and the weather fine and clear for the last forty days. At length, on the first of November, about forty minutes past nine in the morning, a most violent shock of an earthquake was felt; its duration did not exceed six seconds; but so powerful was the concussion, that it overthrew every church and convent in the city, together with the royal palace, and the magnificent opera house adjoining to it; in short, no building of any consequence escaped. About one-fourth of the dwelling-houses were thrown down; and, at a moderate computation, thirty thousand persons perished. The sight of the dead bodies, and the shrieks of those who were half-buried in the ruins, were terrible beyond description; and so great was the consternation, that the most resolute man durst not stay a moment to extricate the friend he loved most affectionately, by the removal of the stones beneath the weight of which he was crushed. Self-preservation alone was consulted; and the most probable security was sought, by getting into open places, and into the middle of the streets. Those who were in the upper stories of the houses, were in general more fortunate than those who attempted to escape by the doors, many of the latter being buried beneath the ruins, with the greater part of the foot-passengers. Those who were in carriages escaped the best, although the drivers and horses suffered severely. The number, however, of those who perished in the streets, and in the houses, was greatly inferior to that of those who were buried beneath the ruins of the churches; for, as it was a day of solemn festival, these were crowded for the celebration of the mass. There were very many of these churches; and the lofty steeples in most instances, fell with the roof, insomuch that few escaped.

The first shock, as has been noticed, was extremely short, but was quickly succeeded by two others; and the whole, generally described as a single shock, lasted from five to seven minutes. About two hours after, fires broke out in three different parts of the city; and this new calamity prevented the digging out of the immense riches concealed beneath the ruins. From a perfect calm, a fresh gale immediately after sprang up, and occasioned the fire to rage with such fury, that in the space of three days the city was nearly reduced to ashes. Every element seemed to conspire toward its destruction; for, soon after the shock, which happened near high-water, the tide rose in an instant forty feet, and at the castle of Belem, which defended the entrance of the harbor, fifty feet higher than had ever been known. Had it not subsided as suddenly, the whole city would have been submerged. A large new quay sunk to an unfathomable depth, with several hundreds of persons, not one of the bodies of whom was afterward found. Before the sea thus came rolling in like a mountain, the bar was seen dry from the shore.

The terrors of the surviving inhabitants were great and multiplied. Amid the general confusion, and through a scarcity of hands, the dead bodies could not be buried, and it was dreaded that a pestilence would ensue; but from this apprehension they were relieved by the fire, by which these bodies were for the greater part consumed. The fears of a famine were more substantial; since, during the three days succeeding the earthquake, an ounce of bread was literally worth a pound of gold. Several of the corn magazines having been, however, fortunately saved from the fire, a scanty supply of bread was afterward procured. Next came the dread of the pillage and murder of those who had saved any of their effects; and this happened in several instances, until examples were made of the delinquents. The great shock was succeeded about noon by another, when the walls of several houses which were still standing, were seen to open, from the top to the bottom, more than a fourth of a yard, and afterward to close again so exactly as not to leave any signs of injury. Between the first and the eighth of November twenty-two shocks were reckoned.

A boat on the river, about a mile distant from Lisbon, was heard by the passengers to make a noise as if it had run aground, although then in deep water: they at the same time saw the houses falling on both sides of the river, in front of which, on the Lisbon side, the greater part of a convent fell, burying many of its inmates beneath the ruins, while others were precipitated into the river. The water was covered with dust, blown by a strong northerly wind; and the sun entirely obscured. On landing, they were driven by the overflowing of the waters to the high grounds, whence they perceived the sea, at a mile’s distance, rushing in like a torrent, although against wind and tide. The bed of the Tagus was in many places raised to its surface; while ships were driven from their anchors, and jostled together with such violence that their crews did not know whether they were afloat or aground. The master of a ship, who had great difficulty in reaching the port of Lisbon, reported that, being fifty leagues at sea, the shock was there so violent as to damage the deck of the vessel. He fancied he had mistaken his reckoning, and struck on a rock.

The following observations, relative to this fatal earthquake, were made at Colares, about twenty miles from Lisbon, and within two miles of the sea. On the last day of October, the weather was clear, and remarkably warm for the season. About four o’clock in the afternoon a fog arose, proceeding from the sea, and covering the valleys, which was very unusual at that season of the year. The wind shifted soon after to the east, and the fog returned to the sea, collecting itself, and becoming exceedingly thick. As the fog retired, the sea rose with a prodigious roaring. On the first of November, the day broke with a serene sky, the wind continuing at the east; but about nine o’clock the sun began to be obscured; and about half an hour after a rumbling noise was heard, resembling that of chariots, and increasing to such a degree, that at length it became equal to the explosions of the largest artillery. Immediately a shock of an earthquake was felt; and this was succeeded by a second and a third, at the same time that several light flames of fire, resembling the kindling of charcoal, issued from the mountains. During these three shocks, the walls of the buildings moved from east to west. In another spot, where the sea-coast could be descried, a great quantity of smoke, very thick, but somewhat pale, issued from the hill named the Fojo. This increased with the fourth shock, at noon, and afterward continued to issue in a greater or less degree. At the instant the subterraneous rumblings were heard, the smoke was observed to burst forth at the Fojo; and its volume was constantly proportioned to the noise. On visiting the spot whence it was seen to arise, no sign of fire could be perceived near it. After the earthquake, several fountains were dried up; while others, after undergoing great changes, returned to their pristine state. In places where there had not been any water, springs burst forth, and continued to flow; several of these spouted to the hight of nearly twenty feet, and threw up sand of various colors. On the hills, rocks were split, and the earth rent; while toward the coast several large portions of rock were thrown from the eminences into the sea.

At Oporto, the earthquake was felt with great violence. The river continued to rise and fall five or six feet, for four hours; the houses of the city were rocked as if by convulsions, and the earth was seen to heave up. St. Ubes, twenty miles distant, was entirely swallowed up by the repeated shocks, and by the vast surf of the sea. And at Cadiz it was so violent, that, but for the great solidity of the buildings, everything would have been destroyed. Those who had quitted the houses and churches, seeking safety in the open air, had scarcely recovered from their first terror, when they were plunged into a new alarm. At ten minutes after eleven o’clock, a wave was seen coming from the sea at the distance of eight miles, and at least sixty feet higher than usual. It dashed against the west part of the city, which is very rocky. Although its force was much broken by these rocks, it at length reached the walls, and beat in the breastwork, which was sixty feet above the ordinary level of the water, removing pieces of the fabric, of the weight of eight or ten tuns, to the distance of forty or fifty yards. At half past eleven came a second wave; and this was followed by four others of equal magnitude. Others, but smaller, and gradually lessening, continued at uncertain intervals until the evening. A considerable part of the rampart was thrown down, and carried by the torrent above fifty paces. Several persons perished on the causeway leading to the isle of Lesu. The accounts brought to Cadiz reported that Seville had been much damaged, and that a similar fate had attended St. Lucar and Cheres. Conel was said to have been destroyed; and, indeed, with the exception of the provinces of Catalonia, Aragon and Valencia, the effects of this earthquake were felt throughout Spain.

At Madrid the shock was very sensibly felt soon after ten in the morning, and lasted five or six minutes. At first the inhabitants fancied they were seized with a swimming in the head; and, afterward, that the houses were falling. In the churches the sensations were the same, and the terror so great, that the people trod each other under foot in getting out. Those who were within the towers were still more affrighted, fancying every instant while the shock lasted, that they were falling to the ground. It was not sensible to those who were in carriages, and very little so to foot-passengers.

At Gibraltar it was felt about the same time as at Madrid, and began with a tremulous motion of the earth, which lasted about half a minute. A violent shock succeeded; and this again was followed by a second tremulous motion, of the duration of five or six seconds. Another shock, not so violent as the first, subsided gradually; and the whole lasted about two minutes. Several of the guns on the batteries were seen to rise, and others to sink, while the earth had an undulating motion. The greater part of the garrison and inhabitants were seized with giddiness and sickness: several fell prostrate; others were stupefied; and many who were walking or riding, became sick, without being sensible of any motion of the earth. Every fifteen minutes the sea rose six feet; and then fell so low, that the boats and small vessels near the shore were left aground, as were also numbers of small fish. The flux and reflux lasted till next morning, having decreased gradually from two in the afternoon.

In Africa, this earthquake was felt almost as severely as it had been in Europe. A great part of the city of Algiers was destroyed. At Arzilla, a town belonging to the kingdom of Fez, about ten in the morning, the sea suddenly rose with such impetuosity, that it lifted up a vessel in the bay, and impelled it with such force on the land, that it was shattered in pieces; and a boat was found two musket-shots within land from the sea. At Fez and Mequinez, great numbers of houses fell down, and a multitude of people were buried beneath the ruins. At Morocco, similar accidents occurred; and at Salle also, much damage was done. At Tangier the earthquake began at ten in the morning, and lasted ten or twelve minutes. At Tetuan it commenced at the same time, but was of less duration; three of the shocks were so extremely violent, that it was feared the whole city would be destroyed.