The Smaller Theatre at Pompeii.The Smaller Theatre at Pompeii.
I confess that I have a preference for the smaller theatre which has been called the Odeon. Is that because, possibly, tragedies were never played there? Is it because this establishment seems more complete and in better preservation, thanks to the intelligent replacements of La Vega, the architect? It was covered, as two inscriptions found there explicitly declare, with a wooden roof, probably, the walls not being strong enough to sustain an arch. It was reached through a passage all bordered with inscriptions, traced on the walls by the populace waiting to secure admission as they passed slowly in, one afterthe other. A lengthy file of gladiators had carved their names also upon the walls, along with an enumeration of their victories; barbarian slaves, and some freedmen, likewise, had left their marks. These probably constituted the audience that occupied the uppermost seats approached by the higher vomitories. On the other hand, there were no lateral vomitories. The spectators entered the orchestra directly by large doors, and thence ascended to the four tiers of the lower (cavea) which curved like hooks at their extremities, and were separated from the middle cavea by a parapet of marble terminating in vigorously-carved lion's paws. Among these carvings we may particularly note a crouching Atlas, of short, thick-set form, sustaining on his shoulders and his arms, which are doubled behind him, a marble slab which was once the stand of a vase or candlestick. This athletic effort is violently rendered by the artist. Above the orchestra ran thetribunalia, reminding us of our modern stage-boxes. These were the places reserved at Rome for the vestal virgins; at Pompeii, they were very probably those of the public priestesses—of Eumachia, whose statue we have already seen, or of Mamia whose tomb we haveinspected. The seats of the three cavea were of blocks of lava; and there can still be seen in them the hollows in which the occupants placed their feet so as not to soil the spectators below them. Let us remember that the Roman mantles were of white wool, and that the sandals of the ancients got muddied just as our shoes do. The citizens who occupied the central cavea brought their cushions with them or folded their spotless togas on the seats before they took their places. It was necessary, then, to protect them from the mud and the dust in which the spectators occupying the upper tiers had been walking.
The number of ranges of seats was seventeen, divided into wedges by six flights of steps, and in stalls by lines yet visible upon the stone. The upper tiers were approached by vomitories and by a subterranean corridor. The orchestra formed an arc the chord of which was indicated by a marble strip with this inscription:
"M. Olconius M.F. Vervs, Pro Ludis."
"M. Olconius M.F. Vervs, Pro Ludis."
This Olconius or Holconius was the Marquis of Carabas of Pompeii. His name may be read everywhere in the streets, on the monuments, and on thewalls of the houses. We have seen already that the fruiterers wanted him for ædile. We have pointed out the position of his statue in the theatre. We know by inscriptions that he was not the only illustrious member of his family. There were also a Marcus Holconius Celer, a Marcus Holconius Rufus, etc. Were this petty municipal aristocracy worth the trouble of hunting up, we could easily find it on the electoral programmes by collecting the names usually affixed thereon. But Holconius is the one most conspicuous of them all; so, hats off to Holconius!
I return to the theatre. Two large side windows illuminated the stage, which, being covered, had need of light. The back scene was not carved, but painted and pierced for five doors instead of three; those at the ends, which were masked by movable side scenes served, perhaps, as entrances to the lobbies of the priestesses.
Would you like to go behind the scenes? Passing by the barracks of the gladiators, we enter an apartment adorned with columns, which was, very likely, the common hall and dressing-room of the actors. A celebrated mosaic in the house of the poet (or jeweller), shows us a scenic representation: in it we observe thechoragus, surrounded by masks and other accessories (the choragus was the manager and director); he is making two actors, got up as satyrs, rehearse their parts; behind them, another comedian, assisted by a costumer of some kind, is trying to put on a yellow garment which is too small for him. Thus we can re-people the antechamber of the stage. We see already those comic masks that were the principal resource in the wardrobe of the ancient players. Some of them were typical; for instance, that of the young virgin, with her hair parted on her forehead and carefully combed; that of the slave-driver (orhegemonus), recognized by his raised eyelids, his wrinkled brows and his twists of hair done up in a wig; that of the wizard, with immense eyes starting from their sockets, seamed skin covered with pimples, with enormous ears, and short hair frizzed in snaky ringlets; that of the bearded, furious, staring, and sinister old man; and above all, those of the Atellan low comedians, who, born in Campania, dwell there still, and must assuredly have amused the little city through which we are passing. Atella, the country of Maccus was only some seven or eight leagues distant from Pompeii, and numerous interests and business connections united the inhabitants of the two places. I have frequently stated that the Oscan language, in which the Atellan farces were written, had once been the only tongue, and had continued to be the popular dialect of the Pompeians. The Latin gradually intermingled with these pieces, and the confusion of the two idioms was an exhaustless source of witticisms, puns, and bulls of all kinds, that must have afforded Homeric laughter to the plebeians of Pompeii. The longshoremen of Naples, in our day, seek exactly similar effects in the admixture of pure Italian and the localpatois. The titles of some of the Atellian farces are still extant: "Pappus, the Doctor Shown Out," "Maccus Married," "Maccus as Safe Keeper," etc. These are nearly the same subjects that are still treated every day on the boards at Naples; the same rough daubs, half improvised on the spur of the moment; the same frankly coarse and indecent gayety. The Odeon where we are now, was the Pompeian San Carlino. Bucco, the stupid and mocking buffoon; the dotard Pappus, who reminds us of the VenetianPantaloon; Mandacus, who is the Neapolitan Guappo; the Oscan Casnar, a first edition of Cassandra; and finally, Maccus, the king of the company, the Punchinello who still survives and flourishes,—such were the ancient mimes, and such, too, are their modern successors. All these must have appeared in their turn on the small stage of the Odeon; and the slaves, the freedmen crowded together in the upper tiers, the citizens ranged in the middle cavea or family-circle, the duumvirs, the decurions, the augustals, the ædiles seated majestically on the bisellia of the orchestra, even the priestesses of the proscenium and the melancholy Eumachia, whose statue confesses, I know not what anguish of the heart,—all these must have roared with laughter at the rude and extravagant sallies of their low comedians, who, notwithstanding the parts they played, were more highly appreciated than the rest and had the exclusive privilege of wearing the title of Roman citizens.
Now, if these trivialities revolt your fastidious taste, you can picture to yourself the representation of some comedy of Plautus in the Odeon of Pompeii; that is, admitting, to begin with, that you can find a comedyby that author which in no wise shocks our susceptibilities. You can also fill the stage with mimes and pantomimists, for the favor accorded to that class of actors under the emperors is well known. The Cæsars—I am speaking of the Romans—somewhat feared spoken comedy, attributing political proclivities to it, as they did; and, hence, they encouraged to their utmost that mute comedy which, at the same time, in the Imperial Babel, had the advantage of being understood by all the conquered nations. In the provinces, this supreme art of gesticulation, "these talking fingers, these loquacious hands, this voluble silence, this unspoken explanation," as was once choicely said, were serviceable in advancing the great work of Roman unity. "The substitution of ballet pantomimes for comedy and tragedy resulted in causing the old masterpieces to be neglected, thereby enfeebling the practice of the national idioms and seconding the propagation, if not of the language, at least of the customs and ideas of the Romans." (Charles Magnin.)
If the mimes do not suffice, call into the Odeon the rope-dancers, the acrobats, the jugglers, the ventriloquists,—for all these lower orders of public performersexisted among the ancients and swarmed in the Pompeian pictures,—or the flute-players enlivening the waits with their melody and accompanying the voice of the actors at moments of dramatic climax. "How can he feel afraid," asked Cicero, in this connection, "since he recites such fine verses while he accompanies himself on the flute?" What would the great orator have said had he been present at our melodramas?
We may then imagine what kind of play we please on the little Pompeian stage. For my part, I prefer the Atellan farces. They were the buffooneries of the locality, the coarse pleasantry of native growth, the hilarity of the vineyard and the grain-field, exuberant fancy, grotesque in solemn earnest; in a word, ideal sport and frolic without the least regard to reality—in fine, Punchinello's comedy. We prefer Moliere; but how many things there are in Moliere which come in a direct line from Maccus!
It is time to leave the theatre. I have said that the Odeon opened into the gladiators' barracks. These barracks form a spacious court—a sort of cloister—surrounded by seventy-four pillars, unfortunately spoiled by the Pompeians of the restoration period.They topped them with new capitals of stucco notoriously ill adapted to them. This gallery was surrounded with curious dwellings, among which was a prison where three skeletons were found, with their legs fastened in irons of ingeniously cruel device. The instrument in question may be seen at the museum. It looks like a prostrate ladder, in which the limbs of the prisoners were secured tightly between short and narrow rungs—four bars of iron. These poor wretches had to remain in a sitting or reclining posture, and perished thus, without the power to rise or turn over, on the day when Vesuvius swallowed up the city.
It was for a long time thought that these barracks were the quarters of the soldiery, because arms were found there; but the latter were too highly ornamented to belong to practical fighting troops, and were the very indications that suggested to Father Garrucci the firmly established idea, that the dwellings surrounding the gallery must have been occupied by gladiators. These habitations consist of some sixty cells: now there were sixty gladiators in Pompeiibecause an album programme announced thirty pair of them to fight in the amphitheatre.
The pillars of the gallery were covered with inscriptions scratched on their surface. Many of these graphites formed simple Greek names Pompaios, Arpokrates, Celsa, etc., or Latin names, or fragments of sentences,curate pecunias, fur es Torque, Rustico feliciter!etc. Others proved clearly that the place was inhabited by gladiators:inludus Velius(that is to saynot in the game, out of the ring)bis victor libertus—leonibus, victor Veneri parmam feret. Other inscriptions designate families or troops of gladiators, of which there are a couple familiar to us already, that of N. Festus Ampliatus and that of N. Popidius Rufus; and a third, with which we are not acquainted, namely, that of Pomponius Faustinus.
What has not been written concerning the gladiators? The origin of their bloody sports; the immolations, voluntary at first, and soon afterward compulsory, that did honor to the ashes of the dead warriors; then the combats around the funeral pyres; then, ere long, the introduction of these funeral spectacles as part of the public festivals, especiallyin the triumphal parades of victorious generals; then into private pageants, and then into the banquets of tyrants who caused the heads of the proscribed to be brought to them at table. The skill of such and such an artist in decapitation (decollandi artifex) was the subject of remark and compliment. Ah, those were the grand ages!
As the reader also knows, the gladiators were at first prisoners of war, barbarians; then, prisoners not coming in sufficient number, condemned culprits and slaves were employed, ere long, in hosts so strong as, to revolt in Campania at the summons of Spartacus. Consular armies were vanquished and the Roman prisoners, transformed to gladiators, in their turn were compelled to butcher each other around the funeral pyres of their chiefs. However, these combats had gradually ceased to be penalties and punishments, and soon were nothing but barbarous spectacles, violent pantomimic performances, like those which England and Spain have not yet been able to suppress. The troops of mercenary fighters slaughtered each other in the arenas to amuse the Romans (not to render them warlike).Citizens took part in these tournaments, and among them even nobles, emperors, and women; and, at last, the Samnites, Gauls, and Thracians, who descended into the arena, were only Romans in disguise. These shows became more and more varied; they were diversified with hunts (venationes), in which wild beasts fought with each other or againstbestiarii, or Christians; the amphitheatres, transformed to lakes, offered to the gaze of the delighted spectator real naval battles, and ten thousand gladiators were let loose against each other by the imperial caprice of Trajan. These entertainments lasted one hundred and twenty-three days. Imagine the carnage!
Part of the gladiators of Pompeii were Greeks, and part were real barbarians. The traces that they have left in the little city show that they got along quite merrily there. 'Tis true that they could not live, as they did at Rome, in close intimacy with emperors and empresses, but they were, none the less, the spoiled pets of the residents of Pompeii. Lodged in a sumptuous barrack, they must have been objects of envy to many of thepopulation. The walls are full of inscriptions concerning them; the bathing establishments, the inns, and the disreputable haunts, transmit their names to posterity. The citizens, their wives, and even their children admired them. In the house of Proculus, at no great height above the ground, is a picture of a gladiator which must have been daubed there by the young lad of the house. The gladiator whose likeness was thus given dwelt in the house. His helmet was found there. So, then, he was the guest of the family, and Heaven knows how they feasted him, petted him, and listened to him.
In order to see the gladiators under arms, we must pass over the part of the city that has not yet been uncovered, and through vineyards and orchards, until, in a corner of Pompeii, as though down in the bottom of a ravine, we find the amphitheatre. It is a circus, surrounded by tiers of seats and abutting on the city ramparts. The exterior wall is not high, because the amphitheatre had to be hollowed out in the soil. One might fancy it to be a huge vessel deeply embedded in the sand. In this external wall there remain two large arcades and four flights ofsteps ascending to the top of the structure. The arena was so called because of the layer of sand which covered it and imbibed the blood.
It is reached by two large vaulted and paved corridors with a quite steep inclination. One of these is strengthened with seven arches that support the weight of the tiers. Both of them intersect a transverse, circular corridor, beyond which they widen. It was through this that the armed gladiators, on horseback and on foot, poured forth into the arena, to the sound of trumpets and martial music, and made the circuit of the amphitheatre before entering the lists. They then retraced their steps and came in again, in couples, according to the order of combat.
To the right of the principal entrance a doorway opens into two square rooms with gratings, where the wild beasts were probably kept. Another very narrow corridor ran from the street to the arena, near which it ascended, by a small staircase, to a little round apartment apparently thespoliatorium, where they stripped the dead gladiators. The arena formed an oval of sixty-eight yards by thirty-six. It was surrounded by a wall of two yards in height, abovewhich may still be seen the holes where gratings and thick iron bars were inserted as a precaution against the bounds of the panthers. In the large amphitheatres a ditch was dug around this rampart and filled with water to intimidate the elephants, as the ancients believed them to have a horror of that element.
The Amphitheatre of Pompeii.The Amphitheatre of Pompeii.
Paintings and inscriptions covered the walls or podium of the arena. These inscriptions acquaint us with the names of the duumvirs,—N. Istadicius, A. Audius, O. Caesetius Saxtus Capito, M. Gantrius Marcellus, who, instead of the plays and the illumination, which they would have had to pay for, on assuming office, had caused three cunei to be constructed on the order of the decurions. Another inscription gives us to understand that two other duumvirs, Caius Quinctius Valgus and Marcus Portius, holding five-year terms, had instituted the first games at their expense for the honor of the colony, and had granted the ground on which the amphitheatre stood, in perpetuity. These two magistrates must have been very generous men, and very fond of public shows. We know thatthey contributed, in like manner, to the construction of the Odeon.
Would you now like to go over the general sweep of the tiers—thevisorium? Three grand divisions as in the theatre; the lowermost separated, by entries and private flights of steps, into eighteen boxes; the middle and upper one divided into cunei, the first by twenty stairways, the second by forty. Around the latter was an inclosing wall, intersected by vomitories and forming a platform where a number of spectators, arriving too late for seats, could still find standing-room, and where the manœuvres were executed that were requisite to hoist the velarium, or awning. All these made up an aggregate of twenty-four ranges of seats, upon which were packed perhaps twenty thousand spectators. So much for the audience. Nothing could be more simple or more ingenious than the system of extrication by which the movement, to and fro, of this enormous throng was made possible, and easy. The circular and vaulted corridor which, under the tiers, ran around the arena and conducted, by a great number of distinct stairways, to the tiers of the lower and middle cavea, while upper stairwaysenabled the populace to ascend to the highest story assigned to it.
One is surprised so see so large an amphitheatre in so small a city. But, let us not forget that Pompeii attracted the inhabitants of the neighboring towns to her festivals; history even tells us an anecdote on this subject that is not without its moral.
The Senator Liveneius Regulus, who had been driven from Rome and found an asylum in Pompeii, offered a gladiator show to the hospitable little city. A number of people from Nocera had gone to the pageant, and a quarrel arose, probably owing to municipal rivalries, that eternal curse of Italy; from words they came to blows and volleys of stones, and even to slashing with swords. There were dead and wounded on both sides. The Nocera visitors, being less numerous, were beaten, and made complaint to Rome. The affair was submitted to the Emperor, who sent it to the Senate, who referred it to the Consuls, who referred it back again to the Senate. Then came the sentence, and public shows were prohibited in Pompeii for the space of ten years. A caricature which recalls this punishment has been found in the Street of Mercury. It represented an armed gladiator descending, with a palm in his hand, into the amphitheatre: on the left, a second personage is drawing a third toward him on a seat; the third one had his arms bound, and was, no doubt, a prisoner. This inscription accompanies the entire piece: "Campanians, your victory has been as fatal to you as it was to the people of Nocera."[K]
The hand of Rome, ever the hand of Rome!
For that matter, the ordinances relating to the amphitheatre applied to the whole empire. One of the Pompeian inscriptions announces that the duumvir C. Cuspius Pansa had been appointed to superintend the public shows and see to the observance of the Petronian law. This law prohibited Senators from fighting in the arena, and even from sending slaves thither who had not been condemned for crime. Such things, then, required to be prohibited!
I have described the arena and the seats; let me now pass on to the show itself. Would yon like to have a hunt or a gladiatorial combat? Here I inventnothing. I have data, found at Pompeii (the paintings in the amphitheatre and the bas-reliefs on the tomb of Scaurus), that reproduce scenes which I have but to transfer to prose. Let us, then, suppose the twenty thousand spectators to be in their places on thirty-four ranges of seats, one above the other, around the arena; then, let us take our seats among them and look on.
First we have a hunt. A panther, secured by a long rope to the neck of a bull let loose, is set on against a youngbestiarius, who holds two javelins in his hands. A man, armed with a long lance, irritates the bull so that it may move and second the rush of the panther fastened to it. The lad who has the javelins, and is a novice in his business, is but making his first attempt; should the bull not move, he runs no risk, yet I should not like to be in his place.
Then follows a more serious combat between a bear and a man, who irritates him by holding out a cloth at him, as the matadors do in bull-fights. Another group shows us a tiger and a lion escaping in different directions. An unarmed and naked man is in pursuit of the tiger, who cannot be a very cross one. But here is avenatiomuch more dramatic in its character. Thenude bestiarius has just pierced a wolf through and through, and the animal is in flight with the spear sticking in his body, but the man staggers and a wild boar is rushing at him. At the same time, a stag thrown down by a lasso that is still seen dangling to his antlers, awaits his death-blow; hounds are dashing at him, and "their fierce baying echoes from vale to vale."
But that is not all. Look at yon group of victors: a real matador has plunged his spear into the breast of a bull with so violent a stroke that the point of the weapon comes out at the animal's back; and another has just brought down and impaled a bear; a dog is leaping at the throat of a fugitive wild boar and biting him; and, in this ferocious menagerie, peopled with lions and panthers, two rabbits are scampering about, undoubtedly to the great amusement of the throng. The Romans were fond of these contrasts, which furnished Galienus an opportunity to be jocosely generous. "A lapidary," says M. Magnin, "had sold the emperor's wife some jewels, which were recognized to be false; the emperor had the dishonest dealer arrested and condemned to the lions;but when the fatal moment came, he turned no more formidable creature loose upon him than a capon. Everybody was astonished, and while all were vainly striving to guess the meaning of such an enigma, he caused thecurion, or herald, to proclaim aloud: "This man tried to cheat, and now he is caught in his turn.""
I have described the hunts at Pompeii; they were small affairs compared with those of Rome. The reader may know that Titus, who finished the Coliseum, caused five thousand animals to be killed there in a single day in the presence of eighty thousand spectators. Let us confess, however, that with this exhibition, of tigers, panthers, lions, and wild boars, the provincial hunts were still quite dramatic.
I now come to the gladiatorial combats. To commence with the preliminaries of the fight, a ring-master, with his long staff in his hand, traces the circle, within which the antagonists must keep. One of the latter, half-armed, blows his trumpet and two boys behind him hold his helmet and his shield. The other has nothing, as yet, but his shield in his hand; two slaves are bringing him his helmet and his sword. The trumpet has sounded, and the ring-master andslaves have disappeared. The gladiators are at it. One of them has met with a mishap. The point of his sword is bent and he has just thrown away his shield. The blood is flowing from his arm, which he extends toward the spectators, at the same time raising his thumb. That was the sign the vanquished made when they asked for quarter. But the people do not grant it this time, for they have turned the twenty thousand thumbs of their right hands downwards. The man must die, and the victor is advancing upon him to slaughter him.
Would you like to see an equestrian combat? Two horsemen are charging on each other. They wear helmets with visors, and carry spears and the round shield (parma), but they are lightly armed. Only one of their arms—that which sustains the spear—is covered with bands or armlets of metal. Their names and the number of their victories already won are known. The first is Bebrix, a barbarian, who has been triumphant fifteen times; the second is Nobilior, a Roman, who has vanquished eleven times. The combat is still undecided. Nobilior is just delivering a spear thrust, which is vigorously parried by Bebrix.
Would you prefer a still more singular kind of duel—one between asecutorand aretiarius?The retiarius wears neither helmet nor cuirass, but carries a three-pronged javelin, called a trident, in his left hand, and in his right a net, which he endeavors to throw over the head of his adversary. If he misses his aim he is lost; the secutor then pursues him, sword in hand, and kills him. But in the duel at which we are present, the secutor is vanquished, and has fallen on one knee; the retiarius, Nepimus, triumphant already on five preceding occasions, has seized him by the belt, and has planted one foot upon his leg, but the trident not being sufficient to finish him, a second secutor, Hippolytus by name, who has survived five previous victories, has come up. Hippolytus rests one hand upon the helmet of the vanquished secutor who vainly clasps his knees, and with the other, cuts his throat.
Death—always death! In the paintings; in the bas-reliefs that I describe; in the scenes that they reproduce; in the arena where these combats must have taken place, I can see only unhappy wretches undergoing assassination. One of them, holding hisshield behind him, is thinking only how he may manage to fall with grace; another, kneeling, presses his wound with one hand, and stretches the other out toward the spectators; some of them have a suppliant look, others are stoical, but all will have to roll at last upon the sand of the arena, condemned by the inexorable caprice of a people greedy for blood. "The modest virgin," says Juvenal, "turning down her thumb, orders that the breast of yonder man, grovelling in the dust, shall be torn open." And all—the heavily armed Samnite, the Gaul, the Thracian, the secutor; thedimachoerus, with his two swords; the swordsman who wears a helmet surmounted with a fish—the one whom the retiarius pursues with his net, meanwhile singing this refrain, "It is not you that I am after, but your fish, and why do you flee from me?"—all, all must succumb, at last, sooner or later, were it to be after the hundredth victory, in this same arena, where once an attendant employed in the theatre used to come, in the costume of Mercury, to touch them with a red-hot iron to make sure that they were dead. If they moved, they were at once dispatched; if they remained icy-cold and motionless, aslave harpooned them with a hook, and dragged them through the mire of sand and blood to the narrow corridor, theporta libitinensis,—the portal of death,—whence they were flung into the spoliarium, so that their arms and clothing, at least, might be saved. Such were the games of the amphitheatre.
It was during one of these festivals, on the 23d of November, 79, that the terrible eruption which overwhelmed the city burst forth. The testimony of the ancients, the ruins of Pompeii, the layers upon layers of ashes and scoriæ that covered it, the skeletons surprised in attitudes of agony or death, all concur to tell us of the catastrophe. The imagination can add nothing to it: the picture is there before our eyes; we are present at the scene; we behold it. Seated in the amphitheatre, we take to flight at the first convulsions, at the first lurid flashes which announce the conflagration and the crumbling of the mountain. The ground is shaken repeatedly; and something like a whirlwindof dust, that grows thicker and thicker, has gone rushing and spinning across the heavens. For some days past there has been talk of gigantic forms, which, sometimes on the mountain and sometimes in the plain, swept through the air; they are up again now, and rear themselves to their whole height in the eddies of smoke, from amid which is heard a strange sound, a fearful moaning followed by claps of thunder that crash down, peal on peal. Night, too, has come on—a night of horror; enormous flames kindle the darkness like the blaze of a furnace. People scream, out in the streets, "Vesuvius is on fire!"
On the instant, the Pompeians, terrified, bewildered, rush from the amphitheatre, happy in finding so many places of exit through which they can pour forth without crushing each other, and the open gates of the city only a short distance beyond. However, after the first explosion, after the deluge of ashes, comes the deluge of fire, or light stones, all ablaze, driven by the wind—one might call it a burning snow—descending slowly, inexorably, fatally, without cessation or intermission, with pitiless persistence. This solid flame blocks up the streets, piles itself inheaps on the roofs and breaks through into the houses with the crashing tiles and the blazing rafters. The fire thus tumbles in from story to story, upon the pavement of the courts, where, accumulating like earth thrown in to fill a trench, it receives fresh fuel from the red and fiery flakes that slowly, fatally, keep showering down, falling, falling, without respite.
The inhabitants flee in every direction; the strong, the youthful, those who care only for their lives, escape. The amphitheatre is emptied in the twinkling of an eye and none remain in it but the dead gladiators. But woe to those who have sought shelter in the shops, under the arcades of the theatre, or in underground retreats. The ashes surround and stifle them! Woe, above all, to those whom avarice or cupidity hold back; to the wife of Proculus, to the favorite of Sallust, to the daughters of the house of the Poet who have tarried to gather up their jewels! They will fall suffocated among these trinkets, which, scattered around them, will reveal their vanity and the last trivial cares that then beset them, to after ages. A woman in the atrium attached to the house of the Faun ran wildly as chance directed, laden with jewelry; unable any longer to get breath, she had sought refuge in the tablinum, and there strove in vain to hold up, with her outstretched arms, the ceiling crumbling in upon her. She was crushed to death, and her head was missing when they found her.
In the Street of the Tombs, a dense crowd must have jostled each other, some rushing in from, the country to seek safety in the city, and others flying from the burning houses in quest of deliverance under the open sky. One of them fell forward with his feet turned toward the Herculaneum gate; another on his back, with his arms uplifted. He bore in his hands one hundred and twenty-seven silver coins and sixty-nine pieces of gold. A third victim was also on his back; and, singular fact, they all died looking toward Vesuvius!
A female holding a child in her arms had taken shelter in a tomb which the volcano shut tight upon her; a soldier, faithful to duty, had remained erect at his post before the Herculaneum gate, one hand upon his mouth and the other on his spear. In this brave attitude he perished. The family of Diomed had assembled in his cellar, where seventeen victims,women, children, and the young girl whose throat was found moulded in the ashes, were buried alive, clinging closely to each other, destroyed there by suffocation, or, perhaps, by hunger. Arrius Diomed had tried to escape alone, abandoning his house and taking with him only one slave, who carried his money-wallet. He fell, struck down by the stifling gases, in front of his own garden. How many other poor wretches there were whose last agonies have been disclosed to us!—the priest of Isis, who, enveloped in flames and unable to escape into the blazing street, cut through two walls with his axe and yielded his last breath at the foot of the third, where he had fallen with fatigue or struck down by the deluge of ashes, but still clutching his weapon. And the poor dumb brutes, tied so that they could not break away,—the mule in the bakery, the horses in the tavern of Albinus, the goat of Siricus, which had crouched into the kitchen oven, where it was recently found, with its bell still attached to its neck! And the prisoners in the blackhole of the gladiators' barracks, riveted to an iron rack that jammed their legs! And the two lovers surprised in a shop near the Thermæ; both were young, and they weretightly clasped in each other's arms.... How awful a night and how fearful a morrow! Day has come, but the darkness remains; not that of a moonless night, but that of a closed room without lamp or candle. At Misenum, where Pliny the younger, who has described the catastrophe, was stationed, nothing was heard but the voices of children, of men, and of women, calling to each other, seeking each other, recognizing each other by their cries alone, invoking death, bursting out in wails and screams of anguish, and believing that it was the eternal night in which gods and men alike were rushing headlong to annihilation. Then there fell a shower of ashes so dense that, at the distance of seven leagues from the volcano, one had to shake one's clothing continually, so as not to be suffocated. These ashes went, it is said, as far as Africa, or, at all events, to Rome, where they filled the atmosphere and hid the light of day, so that even the Romans said: "The world is overturned; the sun is falling on the earth to bury itself in night, or the earth is rushing up to the sun to be consumed in his eternal fires." "At length," writes Pliny, "the light returned gradually, and the star that sheds it reappeared, but pallid as in aneclipse. The whole scene around us was transformed; the ashes, like a heavy snow, covered everything."
This vast shroud was not lifted until in the last century, and the excavations have narrated the catastrophe with an eloquence which even Pliny himself, notwithstanding the resources of his style and the authority of his testimony, could not attain. The terrible exterminator was caught, as it were, in the very act, amid the ruins he had made. These roofless houses, with the height of one story only remaining and leaving their walls open to the sun; these colonnades that no longer supported anything; these temples yawning wide on all sides, without pediment or portico; this silent loneliness; this look of desolation, distress, and nakedness, which looked like ruins on the morrow of some great fire,—all were enough to wring one's heart. But there was still more: there were the skeletons found at every step in this voyage of discovery in the midst of the dead, betraying the anguish and the terror of that last dreadful hour. Six hundred,—perhaps more,—have already been found, each one illustratingsome poignant episode of the immense catastrophe in which they were smitten down!
Bodies of Pompeians cast in the Ashes.Bodies of Pompeians cast in the Ashes.
Recently, in a small street, under heaps of rubbish, the men working on the excavations perceived an empty space, at the bottom of which were some bones. They at once called Signor Fiorelli, who had a bright idea. He caused some plaster to be mixed, and poured it immediately into the hollow, and the same operation was renewed at other points where he thought he saw other similar bones. Afterward, the crust of pumice-stone and hardened ashes which had enveloped, as it were, in a scabbard, this something that they were trying to discover, was carefully lifted off. When these materials had been removed, there appeared four dead bodies.
Any one can see them now, in the museum at Naples; nothing could be more striking than the spectacle. They are not statues, but corpses, moulded by Vesuvius; the skeletons are still there, in those casings of plaster which reproduce what time would have destroyed, and what the damp ashes have preserved,—the clothing and the flesh, I might almost say the life. The bones peep through here and there, in certainplaces which the plaster did not reach. Nowhere else is there anything like this to be seen. The Egyptian mummies are naked, blackened, hideous; they no longer have anything in common with us; they are laid out for their eternal sleep in the consecrated attitude. But the exhumed Pompeians are human beings whom one sees in the agonies of death.
One of these bodies is that of a woman near whom were picked up ninety-one pieces of coin, two silver urns, and some keys and jewels. She was endeavoring to escape, taking with her these precious articles, when she fell down in the narrow street. You still see her lying on her left side; her head-dress can very readily be made out, as also can the texture of her clothing and two silver rings which she still has on her finger; one of her hands is broken, and you see the cellular structure of the bone; her left arm is lifted and distorted; her delicate hand is so tightly clenched that you would say the nails penetrate the flesh; her whole body appears swollen and contracted; the legs only, which are very slender, remain extended. One feels that she struggled a long time in horrible agony; her whole attitude is that of anguish, not of death.
Behind her had fallen a woman and a young girl; the elder of the two, the mother, perhaps, was of humble birth, to judge by the size of her ears; on her finger she had only an iron ring; her left leg lifted and contorted, shows that she, too, suffered; not so much, however, as the noble lady: the poor have less to lose in dying. Near her, as though upon the same bed, lies the young girl; one at the head, and the other at the foot, and their legs are crossed. This young girl, almost a child, produces a strange impression; one sees exactly the tissue, the stitches of her clothing, the sleeves that covered her arms almost to the wrists, some rents here and there that show the naked flesh, and the embroidery of the little shoes in which she walked; but above all, you witness her last hour, as though you had been there, beneath the wrath of Vesuvius; she had thrown her dress over her head, like the daughter of Diomed, because she was afraid; she had fallen in running, with her face to the ground, and not being able to rise again, had rested her young, frail head upon one of her arms. One of her hands was half open, as though she had been holding something, the veil, perhaps, that covered her.You see the bones of her fingers penetrating the plaster. Her cranium is shining and smooth, her legs are raised backward and placed one upon the other; she did not suffer very long, poor child! but it is her corpse that causes one the sorest pang to see, for she was not more than fifteen years of age.
The fourth body is that of a man, a sort of colossus. He lay upon his back so as to die bravely; his arms and his limbs are straight and rigid. His clothing is very clearly defined, the greaves visible and fitting closely; his sandals laced at the feet, and one of them pierced by the toe, the nails in the soles distinct; the stomach naked and swollen like those of the other bodies, perhaps by the effect of the water, which has kneaded the ashes. He wears an iron ring on the bone of one finger; his mouth is open, and some of his teeth are missing; his nose and his cheeks stand out promimently; his eyes and his hair have disappeared, but the moustache still clings. There is something martial and resolute about this fine corpse. After the women who did not want to die, we see this man, fearless in the midst of the ruins that are crushing him—impavidum ferient ruinæ.
I stop here, for Pompeii itself can offer nothing that approaches this palpitating drama. It is violent death, with all its supreme tortures,—death that suffers and struggles,—taken in the very act, after the lapse of eighteen centuries.
In order to render my work less lengthy and less confused, as well as easier to read, I have grouped together the curiosities of Pompeii, according to their importance and their purport, in different chapters. I shall now mark out an itinerary, wherein they will be classed in the order in which they present themselves to the traveller, and I shall place after each street and each edifice the indication of the chapter in which I have described or named it in my work.
In approaching Pompeii by the usual entrance, which is the nearest to the railroad, it would be well to go directly to the Forum. SeeChap.ii.
The monuments of the Forum are as follows. I haveitalicizedthe most curious:
From the Forum, you will go toward the north, passing by the Arch of Triumph; visit theTemple of Fortune(seeChap.vi.), and stop at the Thermæ (seeChap.v.).
On leaving the Thermæ, pass through the entire north-west of the city, that is to say, the space comprised between the streets of Fortune and of the Thermæ and the walls. In this space are comprised the following edifices:
The House of Pansa. SeeChap.vi.The House of the Tragic Poet.Chap.vii.The Fullonica.Chap.iii.The Mosaic Fountains.Chap.vii.The House of Adonis.Chap.vii.The House of Apollo.The House of Meleager.The House of the Centaur.The House of Castor and Pollux.Chap.vii.The House of the Anchor.The House of Polybius.The House of the Academy of Music.The Bakery. SeeChap.iii.The House of Sallust.Chap.vii.The Public Oven.A Fountain.Chap.iii.The House of the Dancing Girls.The Perfumery Shop.Chapiii.The House of Three Stories.The Custom House.Chap.iv.The House of the Surgeon.Chap.iii.The House of the Vestal Virgins.The Shop of Albinus.The Thermopolium.Chap.iii.
Thus you arrive at theWallsand at the Gate of Herculaneum, beyond which theStreet of the Tombsopens and the suburbs develop. All this is described inChap.iv.
Here are the monuments in the Street of the Tombs:
Having visited these tombs, re-enter the city by the Herculaneum Gate, and, returning over part of the way already taken, find the Street of Fortune again, and there see—
The House of the Faun.Chap.vii.The House with the Black Wall.The House with the Figured Capitals.The House of the Grand Duke.The House of Ariadne.The House of the Hunt.Chap.vii.
You thus reach the place where the Street of Stabiæ turns to the right, descending toward the southern part of the city. Before taking this street, you will do well to follow the one in which you already are to where it ends at theNola Gate, which is worth seeing. SeeChap.iv.
The Street of Stabiæ marks the limit reached by the excavations. To the left, in going down, you will find the handsomeHouse of Lucretius. SeeChap.vii.
On the right begins a whole quarter recently discovered and not yet marked out on the diagram. Get them to show you—
The House of Siricus.Chap.vii.The Hanging Balconies.Chap.iii.The New Bakery.Chap.iii.
Turning to the left, below the Street of Stabiæ you will cross the open fields, above the part of the city not yet cleared, as far as theAmphitheatre. SeeChap.viii.
Then, retracing your steps and intersecting the Street of Stabiæ, you enter a succession of streets, comparatively wide, which will lead you back to the Forum. You will there find, on your right,theHot Baths of Stabiæ. SeeChap.v. On your left is theHouse of Cornelius Rufusand that ofProculus, recently discovered. SeeChap.vii.
There now remains for you to cross theStreet of Abundanceat the southern extremity of the city. It is the quarter of the triangular Forum, and of the Theatres—the most interesting of all.
The principal monuments to be seen are—
The Temple of Isis. SeeChap.vii.The Curia Isiaca.The Temple of Hercules.Chap.vii.The Grand Theatre.Chap.viii.The Smaller Theatre. "The Barracks of the Gladiators.Chap.viii.
At the farther end of these barracks opens a small gate by which you may leave the city, after having made the tour of it in three hours, on this first excursion. On your second visit you will be able to go about without a guide.
This Library is based upon a similar series of works now in course of issue in France, the popularity of which may be inferred from the fact that
OVER ONE MILLION COPIES
have been sold. The volumes to be comprised in the series are all written in a popular style, and, where scientific subjects are treated of, with careful accuracy, and with the purpose of embodying the latest discoveries and inventions, and the results of the most recent developments in every department of investigation. Familiar explanations are given of the most striking phenomena in nature, and of the various operations and processes in science and the arts. Occasionally notable passages in history and remarkable adventures are described. The different volumes are profusely illustrated with engravings, designed by the most skilful artists, and executed in the most careful manner, and every possible care will be taken to render them complete and reliable expositions of the subjects upon which they respectively treat. For THE FAMILY LIBRARY, for use as PRIZES in SCHOOLS, as an inexhaustible fund of ANECDOTE and ILLUSTRATION for TEACHERS, and as works of instruction and amusement for readers of all ages, the volumes comprising THE ILLUSTRATED LIBRARY OF WONDERS will be found unexcelled.
The following volumes of the series have been published:—
Optical Wonders.
THE WONDERS OF OPTICS.—ByF. Marion.
Illustrated with over seventy engravings on wood, many of them full-page, and a colored frontispiece. One volume, 12mo. Price $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 31.
In theWonders of Optics, the phenomena of Vision, including the structure of the eye, optical illusions, the illusions caused by light itself, and the influence of the imagination, are explained. These explanations are not at all abstract or scientific. Numerous striking facts and events, many of which were once attributed to supernatural causes, are narrated, and from them the laws in accordance with which they were developed are derived. The closing section of the book is devoted to Natural Magic, and the properties of Mirrors, the Stereoscope, the Spectroscope, &c., &c., are fully described, together with the methods by which "Chinese Shadows," Spectres, and numerous other illusions are produced. The book is one which furnishes an almost illimitable fund of amusement and instruction, and it is illustrated with no less than 73 finely executed engravings, many of them full-page.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"The work has the merit of conveying much useful scientific information in a popular manner."—Phila. North. American.
"Thoroughly admirable, and as an introduction to this science for the general reader, leaves hardly anything to be desired."—N.Y. Evening Post.
"Treats in a charming, but scientific and exhaustive manner, the wonderful subject of optics."—Cleveland Leader.
"All the marvels of light and of optical illusions are made clear."—N.Y. Observer.
Thunder and Lightning.
THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. ByW. De Fonvielle.
Illustrated with 39 Engravings on wood, nearly all full-page. One volume. 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustrations see page 14.
Thunder and Lightning, as its title indicates, deals with the most startling phenomena of nature. The writings of the author, M. De Fonvielle, have attracted very general attention in France, as well on account of the happy manner in which he calls his readers' attention to certain facts heretofore treated in scientific works only, as because of the statement of others often observed and spoken of, over which he appears to throw quite a new light. The different kinds of lightning—forked, globular, and sheet lightning—are described; numerous instances of the effects produced by this wonderful agency are very graphically narrated; and thirty-nine engravings, nearly all full-page, illustrate the text most effectively. The volume is certain to excite popular interest, and to call the attention of persons unaccustomed to observe to some of the wonderful phenomena which surround us in this world.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"In the nook before us the dryness of detail is avoided. The author has given us all the scientific information necessary, and yet so happily united interest with instruction that no person who has the smallest particle of curiosity to investigate the subject treated of can fail to be interested in it."—N.Y. Herald.
"Any boy or girl who wants to read strange stories and see curious pictures of the doings of electricity had better get these books."—Our Young Folks.
"A volume which cannot fail to attract attention and awaken interest in persons who have not been accustomed to give the subject any thought."—Daily Register(New Haven).
Heat.
THE WONDERS OF HEAT. ByAchille Cazin.
With 90 illustrations, many of them full-page, and a colored frontispiece. One volume, 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 15.
In theWonders of Heatthe principal phenomena are presented as viewed from the standpoint afforded by recent discoveries. Burning-glasses, and the remarkable effects produced by them, are described; the relations between heat and electricity, between heat and cold, and the comparative effects of each, are discussed; and incidentally, interesting accounts are given of the mode of formation of glaciers, of Montgolfier's balloon, of Davy's safety-lamp, of the methods of glass-blowing, and of numerous other facts in nature and processes in art dependent upon the influence of heat. Like the other volumes of the Library of Wonders, this is illustrated wherever the text gives an opportunity for explanation by this method.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"From the first page to the very last page the interest is all-absorbing."—Albany Evening Times.
"The book deserves, as it will doubtless attain, a wide circulation."—Pittsburgh Chronicle.
"This book is instructive and clear."—Independent.
"It describes and explains the wonders of heat in a manner to be clearly understood by non-scientific readers."—Phila. Inquirer.
Animal Intelligence.
THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS,with Illustrative Anecdotes.—From the French ofErnest Menault. With 54 illustrations. One volume, 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 16.
In this very interesting volume there are grouped together a great number of facts and anecdotes collected from original sources, and from the writings of the most eminent naturalists of all countries, designed to illustrate the manifestations of intelligence in the animal creation. Very many novel and curious facts regarding the habits of Reptiles, Birds, and Beasts are narrated in the most charming style, and in a way which is sure to excite the desire of every reader for wider knowledge of one of the most fascinating subjects in the whole range of natural history. The grace and skill displayed in the illustrations, which are very numerous, make the volume singularly attractive.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"May be recommended as very entertaining."—London Athenæum.
"The stories are of real value to those who take any interest in the curious habits of animals."—Rochester Democrat.
Egypt.
EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO;or, Rameses the Great. ByF. De Lanoye. With 40 illustrations. One volume, 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 17.
This volume is devoted to the wonders of Ancient Egypt during the time of the Pharaohs and under Sesostris, the period of its greatest splendor and magnificence. Her monuments, her palaces, her pyramids, and her works of art are not only accurately described in the text, but reproduced in a series of very attractive illustrations as they have been restored by French explorers, aided by students of Egyptology. While the volume has the attraction of being devoted to a subject which possesses all the charms of novelty to the great number of readers, it has the substantial merit of discussing, with intelligence and careful accuracy, one of the greatest epochs in the world's history.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"I think this a good book for the purpose for which it is designed. It is brief on each head, lively and graphic, without any theatrical artifices: is not the work of a novice, but of a real scholar in Egyptology, and, as far as can be ascertained now, is history."—JAMES C. MOFFAT, Professor in Princeton Theological Seminary.
"The volume is full of wonders."—Hartford Courant.
"Evidently prepared with great care."—Chicago Evening Journal.
"Not merely the curious in antiquarian matters will find this volume attractive, but the general reader will be pleased, entertained, and informed by it."—Portland Argus.
"The work possessed the freshness and charm of romance, and cannot fail to repay all who glance over its pages."—Philadelphia City Item.
Great Hunts.
ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. ByVictor Meunier. Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 18.
Besides numerous thrilling adventures judiciously selected, this work contains much valuable and exceedingly interesting information regarding the different animals, adventures with which are narrated, together with accurate descriptions of the different countries, making the volume not only interesting, but instructive in a remarkable degree.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"This is a very attractive volume in this excellent series."—Cleveland Herald.
"Cannot fail to prove entertaining to the juvenile reader."—Albion.
"The adventures are gathered from the histories of famous travellers and explorers, and have the merit of truth as well as interest."—N.Y. Observer.
"Just the book for boys during the coming Winter evenings."—Boston Daily Journal.
Pompeii.
WONDERS OF POMPEII. ByMarc Monnier. With 22 illustrations. One volume 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 19.
There are here summed up, in a very lively and graphic style, the results of the discoveries made at Pompeii since the commencement of the extensive excavations there. The illustrations represent the houses, the domestic utensils, the statues, and the various works of art, as investigation gives every reason to believe that they existed at the time of the eruption.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"It is undoubtedly one of the best works on Pompeii that have been published, and has this advantage over all others—in that it records the results of excavations to the latest date."—N.Y. Herald.
"A very pleasant and instructive book."—Balt. Meth. Prot.
"It gives a very clear and accurate account of the buried city."—Portland Transcript.
Sublime in Nature.
THE SUBLIME IN NATURE, FROM DESCRIPTIONS OF CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS AND WRITERS. ByFerdinand Lanoye. Illustrated with 48 woodcuts. One volume 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 20.
The Air and Atmospheric Phenomena, the Ocean, Mountains, Volcanic Phenomena, Rivers, Falls and Cataracts, Grottoes and Caverns, and the Phenomena of Vegetation, are described in this volume, and in the most charming manner possible, because the descriptions given have been selected from the writings of the most distinguished authors and travellers. The illustrations, several of which are from the pencil of GUSTAVE DORÉ, reproduce scenes in this country, as well as in foreign lands.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"As a hand-book of reference to the natural wonders of the world this work has no superior."—Philadelphia Inquirer.
"The illustrations are particularly graphic, and in some cases furnish much better ideas of the phenomena they indicate than anything short of an actual experience, or a panoramic view of them would do."—N.Y. Sunday Times.
The Sun.
THE SUN. ByAmedee Guillemin. From the French byT.L. Phipson, Ph.D. With 58 illustrations. One volume 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 21.
M. Guillemin'swell-known work uponThe Heavenshas secured him a wide reputation as one of the first of living astronomical writers and observers. In this compact treatise he discourses familiarly but most accurately and entertainingly of the Sun as the source of light, of heat, and of chemical action; of its influence upon living beings; of its place in the Planetary World; of its place in the Sidereal World; of its physical and chemical constitution; of the maintenance of Solar Radiation, and, in conclusion, the question whether the Sun is inhabited, is examined. The work embraces the results of the most recent investigations, and is valuable for its fulness and accuracy as well as for the very popular way in which the subject is presented.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"The matter of the volume is highly interesting, as well as scientifically complete; the style is clear and simple, and the illustrations excellent."—N.Y. Daily Tribune.
"For the first time, the fullest and latest information about the Sun has been comprised in a single volume."—Philadelphia Press.
"The work is intensely interesting. It is written in a style which must commend itself to the general reader, and imparts a vast fund of information in language free from astronomical or other scientific technicalities."—Albany Evening Journal.
"The latest discoveries of science are set forth in a popular and attractive style."—Portland Transcript.
"Conveys, in a graphic form, the present amount of knowledge in regard to the luminous centre of out solar system."—Boston Congregationalist.
Glass-Making.
WONDERS OF GLASS-MAKING;Its Description and History from the Earliest Times to the Present. ByA. Sauzay. With 63 illustrations on wood. One volume 12mo $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 22.
The title of this work very accurately indicates its character. It is written in an exceedingly lively and graphic style, and the useful and ornamental applications of glass are fully described. The illustrations represent, among other things, the mirror of Marie de Medici and various articles manufactured from glass which have, from their unique character, or the associations connected with them, acquired historical interest.