THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.












4,'.................14   4 
/44,444    li                                                         iiiiii.......... ~.,t........... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~     ~     ~      ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~    ~    ~     4''...................                                                                                53  i~~~~~~~~~~~~4,.~,,.'',4.
i,'4"'(".'.'.- M.'     *         4          "'..........,~* ~    I-i:
R-t                                                                                                                                                 I  101~~~~~~~~~ II!Iii i




THE
WONDERS OF POMPEII.
BY
MARC  MONNIER.
TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER- & CO.,
654 BROADWAY.
1871.




llustrated  library of ponders.
PUBLISHED BY
<Se. QharZLc% iribtrr & (o.,
654 IM3OADWAY, NEW YORK.
Each one volumo 12mo.                        Price per volume, $1.50?itles of 1Books.                            No. of Illustrationr
THUNDER AND LIGnTNSING,...,. ~  39
WONDERS OF OPTICS,...                      70
WONDERS OF HEAT,......90
INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS,....                    54
GREAT HUNTS,...... 22
EGYPT 3,300 YEARSAGO......            40
WONDERS OF POMPEII,....                    22
THE SUN, BY A. GUILLEMN,.....    58
SUBLIME IN NATURE,.,.,... 50
WONDERS OF GLASS-MAKING,..                        63
WONDERS OF ITALIAN ART,... 28
WONDERS OF THE HUMAN BODY,                                   46. 45
WONDERS OF ARCHITECTURE,..50
LIGHTHOUSES AND LIGHTSHIPS,..    60
BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN,                ~    ~    ~. 
WONDERS OF BODILY STRENGTH AND (SKILL,                       70
WVONDERFUL BALLOON ASCENTS,...                       30
ACOUSTICS,......                       114
WONDERS OF THE HEAVENS,,....       48
THE MOON, BY A. GUILLEMIN,   ~....    6
*  WONDERS OF SCULPTURE,.... 61
WONDERS OF ENGRAVING,..                              32
*   VONDERS OF VEGETATION,..                        45
*  WONDERS OF THE INVISIBLE WORLD,..                     97'  CELEBRATED ESCAPES,..... 26
*  WATER,                                                       77
* HYDRAULICS,..40
*  ELECTRICITY,...    71.
*  SUBTERRANEAN WORLD,..... 2
* In Press for early Publication.
The above works sent to any address, post-paid, upon receipt of the pri b' tl
p-ublishers.




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Facing page
Recent Excavations Made at Pompeii in 1860, under
the Direction of the Inspector, Signor Fiorelli......  25
The Rubbish Trucks Going up Empty................ 30
Clearing out a Narrow Street in Pompeii............. 33
Plan of Vesuvius..............................  39
The Forum..................................  42
Discovery of Loaves Baked 1800 Years Ago, in the
Oven of a Baker.................................  8-4
Closed House, with a Balcony, Recently Discovered.... 87
The Nola Gate at Pompeii..........................  96
The Herculaneum Gate Restored....................  99
The Tepidarium, at the Therma.................... 126
The Atrium of the House of Pansa Restored.......... 138
Candelabra, Trinkets, and Kitchen Utensils Found at
Pompeii.................................  148
Kitchen Utensils found at Pompeii..................... 
Earthenware and Bronze Lamps Found at Pompeii.... 154
Collar, Ring, Bracelet, and Ear-rings Found at Pompeii, 158
Peristyle of the House of Quaestor, at Pompeii....... 167
The House of Lucretius............................ 169
The Exsedra of the House of the Poet............... 185
The Exsadra of the House of the Poet - Second View, 189
The Smaller Theatre at Pompeii.................... 205
The Amphitheatre at Pompeii....................... 220
Bodies of Pompeians Cast in the Ashes of the Eruption............................................ 2
(v)








CONTENTS.
I.
THE EXHUMED CITY.
The Antique Landscape. -The History of Pompeii Before
and After its Destruction- How it was Buried and Exhumed. - Winklemann as a Prophet. - The Excavations
in the Reign of Charles III., of Murat, and of Ferdinand. - The Excavations as they now are. —Signor
Piorelli. - Appearance of the Ruins. - What is and What
is not found there..                               18. 
II.
THEI FORUM.
Diomed's Inn. - The Niche of 3finerva. - The Appearance
and The Monuments of the Forum. - The Antique Temple. - The Pagan ex-Voto Offerings. - The Merchants'
City Exchange and the Petty Exchange. - The Pantheon, or was it a Temple, a Slaughter-house, or a Tavernm -The Style of Cooking. and the Form of Religion.
vii




Vfli  CONTENTS.
Page
- The Temple of Venus. - The Basilica. - The Inscriptions of Passers-by upon the Walls. — The Forum Iebuilt..37
III.
THE STREET.
The Plan of Pompeii. - The Princely Names of the Houses.
-Appearance of the Streets, Pavements, Sidewalks, etc.
- The Shops and the Signs. - The Perfumer, the Surgeon, etc. - An Ancient Manufactory. - Bathing Establishments. - Wine-shops, Disreputable Resorts. -- Hang-.
ing Balconies, Fountains.- Public Placards: Let us
Nominate Dattur! Commit no Nuisance! - Religion on
the Street..                                   67
IV.
THE  SUBURBS.
The Custom House.- The Fortifications and the Gates. -
The Roman Highways. - The Cemetery of Pompeii.Funerals: the Procession, the funeral Pyre, the Day of
the Dead. — The Tombs and their Inscriptions. - Perpetual Leases. - Burial of the Rich, of Animals, and of
the Poor.- The Villas of Diomed and Cicero.. 93




CONTENTS.                        UX
Paga
V.
TIIE  TI HER2E.
The IIot Baths at Rome. -The Thermn of Stabice. -A
Tilt at Sun Dials. -A Complete Bath, as the Ancients
Considered It: the Apartments, the Slaves, the Unguents, the Strigillk. -A Saying of the Emperor Hadia. - The Baths for Women.- The Reading Room. -
The Roman Newspaper. - The Heating Apparatus.. 120
VI.
THE DWELLINGS.
Paratus and Pansa. - The Atrium and the Peristyle. - The
Dwelling Refurnished and Repeopled. - The Slaves, the
Kitchen, and the Table. - The Morning Occupations of
a Pompeian. - The Toilet of a Pompeian Lady. - A Citizen Supper: the Courses, the Guests. - The Homes of
the Poor, and the Palaces of Rome.... 135
VII.
ART IN POMPEII.
The IHomes of the Wealthy. - The Triangular Forum and
the Temples. - Pompeian Architecture: Its Merits and
its Defects. - The Artists of the Little City. - The




X                       CONTENTS.
Page
Paintings here. — Landscapes, Figures, Rope-dancers,
Dancing-girls, Centaurs, Gods, Heroes, the Iliad Illustrated. - Mosaics. - Statues and Statuettes. -Jewelry.
- Carved Glass.- Art and Life..167
VIII.
TIHE THEATRES.
The Arrangement of the Places of Amusement. -Entrance
Tickets. -The Velarium, the Orchestra, the Stage. -
The Odeon.-The Holconii. —The Side Scenes, the Masks.
- The Atellan Farces.- The lMkimes. - Jugglers, etc.A Remark of Cicero on the Melodramas.- The Barrack
of the Gladiators. - Scratched Inscriptions, Instruments
of Torture.- The Pompeian Gladiators. - The Amphitheatre: Hunts, Combats, Dutcheries, etc... 199
IX.
THE ERUPTION.
The Deluge of Ashes. - The Deluge of Fire. - The Flight
of the Pompeians. —The Preoccupations of the Pompeiau Women. - The Victims: the Family of Diomed; the
Sentinel; the Woman Walled up in a Tomb; the Priest
of Isis; the Lovers clinging together, etc.- The Sheletons. -- The Dead Bodies moulded by Vesuvius.. 232




DIALOGU-TE.
JIN A BOOKSTORE AT NAPLES.)
A TRAVELLER (entering).- Have you ally work on
Pompeii a
TIE SALESMAN. - Yes; we have several. I-Iere, for
instance, is Bulwer's "Last Days of Pompeii."
TRAVELLLER. - Too thoroughly romantic.
SALESMAN. - Well, here are the folios of Mazois.
TRAVELLER. - TOO heavy.
SALESMAN. - Here's Dumas's " Corricolo."
TRAVELLER. - Too light.
SALESMAN.- HIow  would Nicolini's magnificent
work suit you 
TRAVELLER. -O h! tlat's too dear.
SALESMaN. - Here's Commander Aloi's "Guide."
TRAVELLER.- That's too dry.
(xi)




X21                DIALOGUE.
SALEsMA~. — Neither dry, nor romantic, nor light,
nor heavy! What, then, would you have, sir?
TnAVELLER. — A  small, portable work; accurate,
conscientious, and within everybody's reach.
SALESMAN. -— Ah, sir, we have nothing of that
kind; besides, it is impossible to get up such a work.
TiiE AUTnHOR (aside). - Who knows?




THE F.
AWONDERS OF POMPEII.
I.
T      TIE EXHUMIED  CITY.
T'HE ANTIQUE LAND 3CAPEI — J fE HISTORY OF POMPEII BEFORE AND AFTER ITS
DESTRUCTION. - HOW IT WAS BURIED AND EXHUMED. - WINKELMANN AS A
PRPOPHET. -THE EXCAVATIONS IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES III., OF MURAT,
AND OF FERDINAND. — THE EXCAVATIONS AS THEY NOW ARE. - SIGNOR
FIORELLI. -APPEARANCE OF THE RUINS. -WHAT IS AND WHAT IS NOT FOUND
THERE.
A  rzAILrOAD runs from  Naples to  Pompeii.  Are
you alone?  The trip occupies one hour, and you have
just time enough to read what follows, pausing once
in a while to glance at Vesuvius and the sea; the
clear, bright waters hemmed in by the gentle curve of
the promontories; a bluish coast that approaches and
becomes green; a green coast that withdraws into the
distance and becomes blue; Castellamare looraing up,
and Naples receding. All these lines and colors existed
2                           (13)




14          TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
too at the time when Pompeii was destroyed: the island
of Prochyta, the cities of Baie, of Bauli, of Neapolis,
and of Surrentum bore the names that they retain.
Portici was called Herculaneum; Torre dell' Annunziata was called Oplontes; Castellamare, Stabire; ~Misenum and Minerva designated the two extremities of the
gulf. Iowever, Vesuvius was not what it has become;
fertile and wooded almost to the summit, covered with
orchards and vines, it must have resembled'the picturesque heights of Monte San Angelo, toward which
we are rolling. The summit alone, honeycombed with
caverns and covered with black stones, betrayed to the
learned a volcano "long extinct." It was to blaze out
again, however, in a terrible eruption; and, since then,
it has constantly flamed and smoked, menacing the
ruins it has made and the new cities that brave it,
calmly reposing at its feet.
What do you expect to find at Pompeii?  At a distance, its antiquity seems enormous, and the word
"ruins" awakens colossal conceptions in the excited
fancy of the traveller. But, be not self-deceived; that
is the first rule in knocking about over the world.
Pompeii was a small city of only thirty thousand souls;




THE EXHUMED CITY.             15
something like what Geneva was thirty years ago.
Like Geneva, too, it was marvellously situated —in the
depth of a picturesque valley between mountains shut
ting in the horizon on one side, at a few steps from
the sea and from  a streamlet, once a river, which
plunges into it —and by its charming site attracted
personages of distinction, although it was peopled
chiefly with merchants and others in easy circumstances; shrewd, prudent folk, and probably honest
and clever enough, as well. The etymologists, after
having exhausted, in their lexicons, all the words that
chime in sound with Pompeii, have, at length, agreed
in d3riving the name from a Greek verb which signifies to send, to tracnsport, and hence they conclude
that many of the Pompeians were engaged in exportation, or perhaps, were emigrants sent from a distance
to form a colony. Yet these opinions are but conjectures, and it is useless to dwell on them.
All that can be positively stated is that the city was
the entrepot of the trade of Nola, Nocera, and Atella.
Its port was large enough to receive a naval armament,
for it sheltered the fleet of P. Cornelius. This port,
mentioned by certain authors, has led many to believe




16          THIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
that the sea washed the walls of Pompeii, and some
guides have even thought they could discover the rings
that once held the cables of the galleys. Unfortu
nately for this idea, at the place which the imagination
of some of our contemporaries covered with salt water,
there were one day discovered the vestiges of old
structures, and it is now conceded that Pompeii, like
many other seaside places, had its harbor at a distance.
Our little city made no great noise in history. Tacitus and Seneca speak of it as celebrated, but the
Italians of all periods have been fond of superlatives.
You will find some very old buildings in it, proclaiming an ancient origin, and Oscan inscriptions recalling
the antique language of the country. When the Samnites invaded the whole of Campania, as though to
deliver it over more easily to Rome, they probably
occupied Pompeii, which figured in the second Samnite war, B. C. 310, and which, revolting along with
the entire valley of the Sarno from Nocera to Stabie,
repulsed an incursion of the Romans and drove them
back to their vessels. The third Samnite war was, as
is well known, a bloody vengeance for this, and Pompeii became Roman. Although the yoke of the con



THE EXHU-IMED CIT.            17
querors was not very heavy -the munic'ip.ii retaining
their Senate, their magistrates, their comitice or councils,
and paying a tribute of men only in case of war -the
Samnite populations, clinging frantically to the idea of
a separate and independent existence, rose twice again
in revolt; once just after the battle of Calnnl, when
they threw themselves into the arms of HIannibal, and
then against Sylla, one hundred and twenty-four years
later - facts that prove the tenacity of their resistance.
On both occasions Pompeii was retaken, and the
second time partly dismantled and occupied by a detachment of soldiers, who did not long remain there.
And thus we have the whlole history of this little city.
The RPomans were fond of living there, and Cicero had
a residence in the place, to which he frequently refers
in his letters. Augustus sent thither a colony which
founded the suburb of Augustus Felix, administered
by a mayor. The Emperor Claudius also had a villa
at Pompeii, and there lost one of his children, who perished by a singular mishap. The imperial lad was
amusing himself, as the Neapolitan boys do to this
day, by throwing pears up into the air and catching
them in his mouth as they fell. One of the fruits
2t




18.  -       THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
choked him  by descending too far into his throat.
But the Neapolitan youngsters perform the feat with
figs, which render it infinitely less dangerous.
We are, then, going to visit a small city subordinate
to Rome, much less than Marseilles is to Paris, and a
little more so than Geneva is to Berne. Pompeii had
almost nothing to do with the Senate or the Emperor.
The old tongue - the Oscan - had ceased to bd official, and the authorities issued their orders in Latin.
The residents of the place were Roman citizens, Rome
being recognized as the capital and fatherland. The
local legislation was made secondary to Roman legislalation. But, excepting th)se reservations, Pompeii
formed a little world, apart, independent, and complete
in itself. She had a miniature Senate, composed of
decurions; an aristocracy in epitome, represented by
the Attguzstales, answering to knights; and then came
her plebs or common people. She chose her own
pontiffs, convoked the comitie, promulged municipal
laws, regulated military levies, collected taxes; in fine
selected her own immediate rulers —her consuls (the
duumvirs dispensing justice), her ediles, her quaestors,
etc. Hence, it is not a provincial city that we are to




THE EXHIIUMED CITY.          19
survey, but a petty State which had preserved its
autonomy within the unity of the Empire, and was, as
has been cleverly said, a miniature of Rome.
Another circumstance imparts a peculiar interest
to Pompeii. That city, which seemed to have no good
luck, had been violently shaken by earthquake in the
year B. C. 63. Several temples had toppled down
along with the colonnade of the Forum, the great
Basilica, and the theatres, without counting the tombs
and houses. Nearly every family fled from the place,
taking with them their furniture and their statuary;
and the Senate hesitated a long time before they allowed the city to be rebuilt and the deserted district
to be re-peopled. The Pompeians at last returned;
but the decurions wished to make the restoration of
the place a complete rejuvenation. The columns of
the Forum speedily reappeared, but with capitals in the
fashion of the day; the Corinthian-Roman order,
adopted almost everywhere, changed the style of the
monuments; the old shafts covered with stucco were
patched up for the new topwork they were to receive,
and the Oscan inscriptions disappeared. From all this
there sprang great blunders in an artistic point of




20          THE WONDERS OF POMPE..
view, but a uniformity and consistency that please
those who are fond of monuments and cities of one
continuous derivation. Taste loses, but harmony gains
thereby, and you pass in review a collective totality of
edifices that bear their age upon their fronts, and give
a very exact and vivid idea of what a municeps a
Roman colony nmust have been in the time of Vespasian.
They went to work, then, to rebuild the city, and
the undertaking was pushed on quite vigorously,
thanks to the contributions of the Pompeians, especially of the functionaries. The temples of Jupiter
and of Venus —we adopt the consecrated names —
and those of Isis and of Fortune, were already up; the
theatres were rising again; the handsome columns of
the Forum were ranging themselves under their porticoes; the residences were gay with brilliant paintings;
work and pleasure had both resumed their activity;
life hurried to and fro through the streets, and crowds
thronged the amphitheatre, when, all at once, burst
forth the terrible eruption of 79. I will describe it
further on; but here simply recall the fact that it
buried Pompeii under a deluge of stones and ashes.




THE EXHUMED CITI.              21
This re-awakening of the volcano destroyed three citlos,
without counting the villages, and depopulated the
country in the twinkling of an eye.
After the catastrophe, however, the inhabitants returned, and made the first excavations in order to
recover their valuables; and robbers, too-we shall
surprise them in the very act —crept into the subterranean city. It is a fact that the Emperor Titus for
a moment entertained the idea of clearing and restoiing it, and with that view sent two Senators to the spot,
intrusted with the mission of making the first study
of the ground; but it would appear that the magni.
tude of the work appalled those dignitaries, and that
the restoration in question never got beyond the condition of a mere project. Rome soon had more serious
cares to occupy her than the fate of a petty'city that,
ere long disappeared beneath vineyards, orchards, and
gardens, and under a thick growth of woodland —
remark this latter circumstance - until, at length, centuries accumulated, and with them the forgetfulness
that buries all things. Pompeii was then, so to speak,
lost, and the few learned men who knew it by name
could not point out its site. When, at the close of the




22          TJBE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
sixteenth century, the architect Fontana was constructing a subterranean canal to convey the waters of
the Sarno to Torre dell' Annunziata, the conduit
passed through Pompeii, from one end to the other,
piercing the walls, following the old streets, and coming upon sub structures and inscriptions; but no one
bethought him that they had discovered the place of
the buried city. IIowever, the amphitheatre, which,
roofed in by a layer of the soil, formed a regular excavation, indicated an ancient edifice, and the neighboring peasantry, Keith better information than the
learned, designated by the half-Latin name of Civita,
whl-ich dim tradition had handed down, the soil and
debris that had accumulated above Pompeii.
It was only in 1748, under the reign of Charles III,
when the discovery of I-Ierculaneum had attracted the
attention of the world to the antiquities thus buried,
that, some vine-dressers having struck upon some old
walls with their picks and spades, and in so doing
unearthed statues, a colonel of engineers named Don
Rocco Alcubierra asked permission of the king to
make excavations in the vicinity. The king consented
and placed a dozen of galley-slaves at the colonel's




TIE EXIIIUMED CITY.            23
disposition. Thus it was that by a lucky chance a
military engineer discovered the city that we are about
to visit. Still, eight years more had to roll away before
any one suspected that it was Pompeii which they
were thus exhuming.  Learned folks thought they
were dealing with Stabiae.
Shall I relate the history of these underground researches, "badly conducted, frequently abandoned, and
resumed in obedience to the same capriciousness that
had led to their suspension," as they were? Such are
the words of the opinion Barthelemy expressed when
writing, in 1755, to the Count de Caylus. WVinkelmann,
who was present at these excavations a few years later,
sharply criticised the tardiness of the galley-slaves to
wvhom the work had been confided. "At this rate,"
he wrote, "our descendants of the fourth generation
will still have digging to do among these ruins." The
illustrious German hardly suspected that he was making so accurate a prediction as it has turned out to be.
The descendants of the fourth generation are our contemporaries, and the third part of Pompeii is not yet
unearthed.
The Emperor Joseph II. visited the excavations on




24          TIiE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
the 6th of April, 1796, and complained bitterly to
IKing Ferdinand IV. of the slight degree of zeal and
the small amount of money employed.  The king
promised to do better, but did not keep his word. IIe
had neither. intelligence nor activity in prosecuting
this immense task, excepting while the French occupatiol lasted. At that time, however, the government
carried out the idea of Francesco La Vega, a iman of
sense and capacity, and purchased all the ground that
covered Pompeii. Queen Caroline, the sister of Bollonaparte and wife of M[urat, took a fancy to these
excavations and pushed them vigorously, often going
all the way from Naples through six leagues of dust to
visit them. In 1813 there were exactly four hundred
and seventy-six laborers employed at Pompeii. The
Bourbons returned and commenced by re-selling the
ground that had been purchased under Mfurat; then,
little by little, the work continued, at first with some
activity, then fell off and slackened more and more
until, from being neglected, they were altogether abandoned, and were resumed only once in a while in the
presence of crowned heads. On these occasions they
were got up like New Year's surprise games: every



TIE EXHIUMED CITY.           2
thing that happened to be at hand was scattered about
on layers of -ashes and of pumice-stone  and carefully covered over. Then, upon the arrival of suchand-such a majesty, or this or that highness, the magic
wand of the superintendent or inspector of the works.
caused all these treasures to spring out of the ground.
I could name, one after the other, the august personages who were deceived in this manner, beginnilng
with the Kings of the Two Sicilies and of Jerusalem.
But that is not all. Not only was nothing more
discovered at Pompeii, but even the monuments that
had been found were not preserved. King Ferdinand
soon discovered that the 25,000 francs applied to the
excavations were badly employed; he reduced the sum
to 10,000, and that amount was worn down on the way
by passing through so many hands. Pompeii fell back,
gradually presenting nothing but ruins upon ruins.
IIappily, the Italian Government established by
the revolution of 1860, came into power' to set all
these acts of negligence and roguery to rights. Signor Fiorelli, who is all intelligence and activity, not
to mention his erudition, which numerous writings
prove, was appointed inspector of the excavations.
3




26           THE WONDERS OF I'OIPEHI.
Unlder his administration, the works which had been
vigorously resumed were pushed on -by as many as
seven hundred laborers at a time, and they dug out
in the lapse of three years more treasures than had
been brought to light in the thirty that preceded
them. Everything has been reformed, nay, noralizeld,
as it were, in the dead city; the visitor pays two
francs at the gate and no longer has to contend with
the horde of guides, doorkeepers, rapscallions, and
beggars who formerly plundered him. A small museum, recently established, furnishes the active inquirer the opportunity of examining upon the spot
the curiosities that have already been discovered; a
library containing the fine works of MIazois, of Raoul
RIochette, of Gell, of Zaln, of Overbeck, of Breton,
etc., on Pompeii, enables the student to consult
them in Pompeii itself; workshops lately opened are
continually busy in restoring cracked walls, marbles,
and bronzes, and one may there surprise the artist
Bramante, the most ingenious hand at repairing antiquities in the world, as likewise my friend, Padiglione, who, with admirable patience and minute fidelity, is cutting a small model in cork of the ruins that




THE EXHIUMED CITY.            27
have been cleared, which is scrupulously exact. In
fine-and this is the main point-the excavations are
no longer carried on occasionally only, and in the
presence of a few' privileged persons, but before the
first comer and every day, unless funds have run
short.
"I have frequently been presenlt," wrote a halfPompeian, a year or two ago, in the Revue des Deutx.l3ondes —"I have frequently been present for hours
together, seated on a sand-bank which itself, perhaps,
concealed wonders, and witnessed this rude yet interesting toil, from  which I could not withdraw  my
gaze.  I therefore have it in my power to write
understandingly. I do not relate what I read, but
what I saw. Three systems, to my knowledge, have
been employed in these excavations. The first, inaugurated under Charles III., was the simplest. It
consisted in hollowing out the soil, in extricating
the precious objects found, and then in re-filling
the orifice —an excellent method of forming a museum by destroying Pompeii. This method was abandoned so soon as it was discovered that a whole city
was involved. The second system, which was gradu




28            THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
ally brought to perfection in the last century, was
earnestly pursued under [Maurat.  The work was
started in many places at once, and the laborers,
tdvancing one after the other, penetrating and cutJing the hill, followed the line of the streets, which
they cleared little by little before them.  In following the streets on the ground-level, the declivity of ashes and pumice-stone which obstructed them
was attacked below, and thence resulted many regrettable accidents. The whole upper part of the
houses, commencing with the roofs, fell in among
the rubbish, along with a thousand fragile articles,
which were broken and lost without there being
any means of determining the point from  which
thley had been hurled down. In order to obviate
Ahis inconvenience, Signor Fiorelli has started a,hird system. IIe does not follow the streets by
the ground-level, but he marks them  out over the
hillocks, and thus traces among the trees and cultivated grounds wide squares indicating the subterrnanean islets. No one is ignorant of the fact
Ilhat these islets —isole, tnsztlm in the modern as well
as in the ancient language of Italy-indicate blocks




TIHE EXHUMED CITY.              29
of buildings. The islet traced, Signor Fiorelli repurchases the land which had been sold by King
Ferdinand I. and gives up the trees found  upon
it.
"The ground, then, being bought and the vegetation removed, work begins. The earth at the summit of the hill is taklen off and carried away on
a railrcad, which descends from the middle of Pompeii by a slope that saves all expense of machinery and fuel, to a considerable distance beyond
the amphitheatre and the city.  In this way, the
most serious question of all, to wit, that of clearing
away the dirt, is solved.  Formerly, the ruins were
covered in with it, and subsequently it was heaped
up in a huge hillock, but now it helps to construct
the very railroad that carries it away, and will, one
day, tip it into the sea.
" Nothing can present a livelier scene than the excavation of these ruins. MIen diligently dig away at
the eartll, and bevies of young girls run to and fro
without cessation, with baskets in their hands. These
* The money accruing from this sale is applied to the Pompeian
library mentioned elsewhere.
8*




30           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
are sprightly peasant damsels collected from the adjacent villages. most of them accustomed to working in
factories that have closed or curtailed operations owing
to the invasion of English tissues and the rise of
cotton. No one would have dreamed that free trade
and the war in America would have supplied female
hands to work at the ruins of Pompeii. But all things
are linked together now in this great world of ours,
vast as it is. These girls then run backward and
forward, filling their baskets with soil, ashes, and
Icapillo, hoisting them  on their heads, by the help
of the men, with a single quick, sharp motion,, and
thereupon setting off again, in groups that incessantly
replace each other, toward the railway, passing and repassing their returning companions. Very picturesque
in their ragged gowns of brilliant colors, they walk
swiftly with lengthy strides, their long skirts defining
the movements of their naked limbs and fluttering in
the wind behind them, while their arms, with gestures like those of classic urn-bearers, sustain the heavy
load that rests upon their heads without making them
even stoop. All this is not out of keeping with the
monuments that gradually appear above the surface as




T —--— = —=-L--2i`L._
-------------------------- --- ---- ----------
I. - _ ____-_ —-____ —_~_ -—  —-1- — -
_T.__1- —  —- —-=
lh_i==,-43_L —_-5 —- —---- -— L —i _
—, —-- 7
-F-=; — —-— = —C=
r —----— = —---—: ;L _%_=; Z —;T —----— = —
=:3-`
-p iL — f —
"--=''''''!~,, 1J  /i -
ua\\nr glA19"-iBBt
B-Wp aSis-L Iriv —— ag c —Z PL--L-h
1 -;le"/cp d;"
ta
-u
~Ci,hrlc-i- -YC-,.LIIC-)~ j17fE Mc-.
The nribbih Trucks Going up EmFty.








THE EXHIUMED CITY.             31
the rubbish is removed. Did not the sight of foreign
visitors here. and there disturb the harmony of the
scene, one might readily ask himself, in the midst of
this Virgilian landscape, amid these festooning vines,
in full view of the smoking Vesuvius, and beneath
that antique sky, whether all those young girls who
come and go are not the slaves of Pansa, the oedile, or
of the duumvir I-Iolconius."
We have just glanced over the history of Pompeii
before and after its destruction. Let us now enter the
city. But a word of caution before we start. Do not
expect to find houses or monuments still erect and
roofed in like the Pantheon at Rome and the square
building at Nismes, or you will be sadly disappointed.
Rather picture to yourself a small city of low buildings and narrow  streets that had been completely
burned down in a single night. You have come to
look at it on the day after the conflagration. The
upper stories have disappeared, and the ceilings have
fallen in. Everything that was of wood, planks, and
beams, is in ashes; all is uncovered, and no roofs are
to be seen. In these structures, which in other days
were either private'dwellings or public edifices,*you




32           TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
now can everywhere walk under the open sky. WVere
a shower to come on, you would not know where to
seek shelter. It is as though you were in a city in
progress of building, with only the first stories as yet
completed, but without the flooring for the second.
IIere is a house: nothing remains of it but the lower
walls, with nothing resting on them. At a distance
you would suppose it to be a collection of screens set
up for parlor theatricals. IIere is a public square:
you will now see in it only bottom platforms, supports
that hold up nothing, shafts of columns without galleries, pedestals without statues, mute blocks of stone,
space and emptiness. I will lead you into more than
one temple. You will see there only an eminence of
masonry, side and end walls, but no front, no portico.
Where is art? Where is the presiding deity of the
place?  The ruins of your stable would not be more
naked a thousand years hence. Stones on all sides,
tufa, bricks, lava, here and there some slabs of marble
and travertine, then traces of destruction — paintings
defaced, pavements disjointed and full of gaps and
cracks-and then marks of spoliation, for all the
precious objects found were carried off to the museum








i —1-                       -    at-~— |               _          W- -' —-----    --                                 — =
UE~~=~ —------                                              Al  |
--               i-Z= —---                 ----          ----
-L.-             -;     - - -                 -               -         5
Clarn  out- a —-- Naro  Street in Pompe -ii.                                  =




TWIEE EXHIUIMED CIT.          33
at Naples, and I can show you now nothing but the
places where once stood the Faun, the statue of Narcissus, the mosaic of Arbelles and the famous blue
vase. Such is the Pompeii that awaits the traveller who
comes thither expecting to find another Paris, or, at
least, ruins arranged in the Parisian style, like the
tower of St. Jacques, for instance.
You will say, perhaps, good reader, that I disenchant you; on the contrary, I prevent your disenchantment.  Do not prepare the way for your
own disappointment by unreasonable expectations or
by ill-founded notions; this is all that I ask of your
judgment. IDo not come hither to look for the relies
of Roman grandeur. Other impressions await you at
Pompeii. What you are about to see is an entire city,
or at all events the third of an ancient city, remote,
detached from every modern town, and forming in
itself something isolated and complete which you will
find nowhere else. Here is no Capitol rebuilt; no Pantheon consecrated now to the God of Christianity; no
Acropolis surmounting a Danish or Bavarian city; no
Miaison Carree (as at Nismes) transformed to a gallery
of paintings and forming one of the adornments of a




3'          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
modern Boulevard. At Pompeii everything is antique
and eighteen centuries old; first the sky, then the
landscape, the seashore, and then the work of man,
devastated undoubtedly, but not transformed, by time.
The streets are not repaired; the high sidewalks that
border them have not been lowered for the pedestrians
of our time, and we promenade upon the same stones
that were formerly trodden by the feet of Sericus
the merchant and Epaphras the slave. As we enter
these narrow streets we quit, perforce, the year in
lwhich we are living and the quarter that we inhabit.
Behold us in a moment transported to another age
and  into  another world. Antiquity invades and
absorbs us and, were it but for an hour, we are
Rtomans. That, however, is not all. I have already
repeatedly said that Vesuvius did not destroy Pompeii
-it has preserved it.
The structures that have been exhumed crumble
away in the air in a few months - more than they had
done beneath the ashes in eighteen centuries. WVhen
first disinterred the painted walls reappear fresh and
glowing as though their coloring were but of yester.
day. Each wall thus becomes, as it were, a page of




TIlE EXIIHUMED CITY.            35
illustrated archeology, unveiling to us some point
hitherto unknown of the manners, customs, private
habits, creeds and traditions; or, to sum all up in a.
word, of the life of the ancients.
The furniture one finds, the objects of art or the
household utensils, reveal to us the mansion; there is
not a single panel which, when closely examined, does
not tell us something. Such and such a pillar has
retainied the inscription scratched upon it with the
point of his knife by a Pompeian who had nothing else
to do; such a piece of wall on the street set apart for
posters, presents in huge letters the announcement of
a public spectacle, or proclaims the candidature of
some citizen for a contested office of the state.
I say nothing of the skeletons, whose attitudes relate,
in a most striking manner, the horrors of the catastrophe and the frantic struggles of the last moment.
In fine, for any one who has the faculty of observation,
every step is a surprise, a discovery, a confession won
concerning the public and private life of the ancients.
Although at first sight mute, these blocks of stone,
when interrogated, soon speak and confide their secrets
to science or to the imagination that catches a meaning




36           THIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
with half a word; they tell, little by little, all that they
know, and all the strange, mysterious things that took
place on these same pavements, under this same sky,
in those miraculous times, the most interesting in
history, viz.: the eighth century of Rome and the first
of the Christian era.




II.
THlE FORUM.
DIOMED'S INN. — THE NICHE OF MINERVA. — THE APPEARANCE AND THE MONUMENTS
OF THE FORUM. -THE ANTIQUE TEMPLE. -THE PAGAN EX-VOTO OFFERINGS. -
THE MERCHANTS' CITY EXCHANGE AND THE PETTY EXCHANGE. -THE PANTHEON,
OR WAS IT A TEMPLE, A SLAUGHTER-HOUSE, OR A TAVERN? -THE STYLE OF COOKING AND THE FORM OF RELIGION. -THE TEMPLE OF VENUS. -THE BASILICA.THE INSCRIPTIONS OF PASSERS-BY UPON THE WALLS. -THE FORUM REBUILT.
As you alight at the station, in the first place breakfast at the popina of Diomed. It is a tavern of our own
day, which has assumed an antique title to please travellers.  You may there drink Falernian wine manufactured by Scala, the Neapolitan chemist, and, should you
ask for some jentaculum  in the Roman style-aliquid
sctamentorumn, glandionidum  suillam  taridum, pernzonidem,  sinciput aut ornenta porcina, aut aliquid ad
eum modum — they will serve you a beefsteak and potatoes. Your strength refreshed, you will scale the
sloping hillock of ashes and rubbish that conceals the
ruins from your view; you will pay your two francs
at the office and you will pass the gate-keeper's turn4                           (37)




38           TIlE W~ONDERS OF POMPEII.
stile, astonished, as it is, to find itself in such a place.
These formalities once concluded you have nothing
more that is modern to go through unless it be the
companionship of a guide in military uniform who escorts you, in reality to watch you (especially if you belong to the country of Lord Elgin), but not to mulct you
in the least. Placards in all the known languages forbid you to offer him so much as an oboluzs. You make
your entre, in a word, into the antique life, and you
are as free as a Pofnpeian.
The first thing one sees is an arcade and such a niche
as might serve for an image of the Madonna; but be
reassured, for the niche contains a  linerva. It is no
longer the superstition of our own time that strikes our
gaze. Under the arcade open extensive store-houses
that probably served as a place of deposit for merchandise. You then enter an ascending paved street,
pass by the temple of Venus and the Basilica, and arrive at the Forum. There, one should pause.
At first glance, the observer distinguishes nothing
but a long square space closed at the further extremity
by a regular-shaped mound rising between two arcades;
lateral alleys extend lengthwise on the right and the left








1 ~~a~~au'zi,                                        B W, rm.cgge
Plan of Vesuvius.~n.




TIHE FORUMr.                39
between shafts of columns and dilapidated architectural work. Hiere and there some compound masses of
stone-work indicate altars or the pedestals of statues
no longer seen. Vesuvius, still threatening, smokes
away at the extremity of the picture.
Look more closely and you will perceive that the
fluted columns are of Caserta stone, of tufa, or of brick,
coated with stucco and raised two steps above the level
of the square. Under the lower step runs the kennel.
These columns sustained a gallery upon which one
mounted by narrow and abrupt steps that time has
spared. - This upper gallery must have been covered.
The women walked in it. A second story of columns,
most likely interrupted in front of the monuments,
rested upon the other one. Mazois has reconstructed
this colonnade in two superior orders-Doric below
and Ionic above - with exquisite elegance.  The
pavement of the square, on which you may still walk,
was of travertine. Thus we see the Forum rising
again, as it were, in our presence.
Let us glance at the ruins that surround it. That
mound at the other end was the foundation of a
temple, the diminutive size of which strikes the new



40           THE WONDERS OF POM11'EIL
comer at first sight. Every one is not aware that the
temple, far from being a place of assemblage for devout multitudes, was, with the ancients, in reality, but
a larger niche inclosing the statue of the deity to be
worshipped. The consecrated building received only a
small number of the elect after they had been befittingly purified, and the crowd remained outside. It
was not the palace, but the mere cell of the god. This
cell.(cella) was, at first, the whole temple, and was just
large enough to hold the statue and the altar. By
degrees it came to be ornamented with a front portico,
then with a rear portico, and then with side colonnades, thus attaining by embellishment after embellishment the rich elegance of the Madeleine at Paris.
But the proportions of our cathedrals were never
adopted by the ancients. Thus, Christianity rarely
approplriates the Greek or Roman temples for its
worship. It has preferred the vast basilicas, the royal
name of which assumes a religious meaning.
The Iomans built their temples in this wise: The
augur —that is to say, the priest who read the future
in the flight of birds —traced in the sky with his short
staff a spacious square, which he then marked on the




THE FORUM.                  41
soil. Stakes were at once fixed along the four lines,
and draperies were hung between the stakes. In the
midst of this space, the area or inclosure of the.temple, the augur marked out a cross —the augural
cross, indicating the four cardinal points; the transverse lines fixed the limits of the cella; the point
where the two branches met was the place for the
door, and the first stone was deposited on the threshold.
Numerous lighted lamps illuminated these ceremonies, after which the chief priest, the pontZfex maximus, consecrated the area, and from that moment
it became settled and immovable. If it crumbled,
it must be rebuilt on the same spot, and the least
change made, even should it be to enlarge it, would
be regarded as a profanation. Thus had the dwelling of the god that rises before us at the extremity of
the Forum been consecrated.
Like most of the Roman temples, this edifice is
elevated on a foundation (the podium), and turned
toward the north.  One ascends to it by a flight
of steps that cuts in the centre a platform where,
perhaps, the altar stood. Upon the.podiumn  there
remain some vestiges of the twelve columns that




42         TTHE WONI)ERS OF POMPEII.
formed the front portico or pronaos. Twelve col.
umns, did I say? —three on each side, six in front;
always an even number at the facades, so that a
central column may not mask the doorway and that
the temple may be freely entered by the intercolumnar middle space.
To the right and the left of the steps were pedestals that formerly sustained statues probably colossal.  Behind the proncos could be recognized the
place where the cella used to be. Nothing remains
of it now but the mosaic pavement and the walls.
Traces of columns enable us to reconstruct this sanctuary richly. We can there raise —and it has been
done on paper-two colonnades-the first one of the
Ionic order, supporting a gallery; the second of the
Corinthian order, sustaining the light wooden platform of painted wood which no longer exists. The
walls, covered with stucco, still retain pretty decorative paintings. Three small subterranean chambers,
of very solid construction, perhaps contained the
treasury and archives of the State, or something else
entirely different —why not those of the temple?








THIE FORUM&.




THE FORUM.                  43
In those times the Church was rich; the Savicur
had not ordained poverty as its portion.
What deity's house is it that we are visiting no-w?
Jupiter's, says common opinion, upon the strength
of a colossal statue of which fragments have been
found that might well have fitted the King of the
Gods. Others think it the temple of Venus, the
Venuzs Physiccm (the beautiful in nature, say resthetic philosophers) being the patroness of Pompeii.
We shall frequently, hereafter, meet with the name
of this goddess.  Several detached limbs in stone
and in bronze, which are not broken at the extremity
as though they belonged to a statue, but are polished
on all sides and cut in such a manner as to admit
bf being suspended, were found among the ruins;
they were votive offerings. Italy, in becoming CathlAic, has retained these Pagan customs.  Besides
Lier supreme God, she worships a host of demi-gods,
to whom she dedicates her towns and consecrates
her temples, where garlands of ex-voto offerings testify to the intercession of the priests and the gratitude of the true believers.
On the two sides of the temple of Jupiter —such




44          TIIE WONDERS' OF POMPEII.
is the generally-accepted name-rise arcades, as I
have already remarked. The one on the left is a
vaulted entrance, which, being too low and standing
too far forward, does not correspond with the other
and deranges, one cannot exactly make out why, the
symmetry of this part of the Forum. The other
arcade is evidently a triumphal portal. Nothing remains of it now but the body of the work in brick,
some niches and traces of pilasters; but it is easy.
to replace the marbles and the statues which must
have adorned this monument in rather poor taste.
Such was the extremity of the Forum.
Four considerable edifices follow each other on
the eastern side of this public square. These are,
going from  south to north, the palace of Eumachia, the temple of Mercury, the Senate Chamber,
and the Pantheon.
What is the Eumachia palace?  An inscription
found at that place reads: "Eumachia, in her name
and in the name of her son, has erected to Con cord
and to august Piety, a Chalcidicum, a crypt and porticoes."
What is a Chalcidicum?  Long and grave have




TIIE FORUII.                15
been  the discussions on this subject among  the
savans.  They have agreed, however, on one point,
that it should be a species of structure invented at,Chalcis, a city of Eubea.
HIowever that may be, this much-despoiled palace
presents a -vast open gallery, which was, certainly,
the portico mentioned above.  Around the portico
ran a closed gallery along three sides, and that must
have been the crypt. Upon the fourth side -that is
to say, before the entry that fronts the Forum - stood
forth a sort of porch, a large exterior vestibule: that
was probably the Chalcidicum.
The edifice is curious. B3ehind the vestibule are
two walls, not parallel, one of which follows the
a&lignment of the Forum, and the other that of the
interior portico. The space between this double wall
is utilized and some shops hide themselves in its
recesses. Thus the irregularity of the plan is not
merely  corrected —it is turned  to useful account.
The ancients were shrewd fellows.  This portico
rested on fifty-eight cobl-mns, surrounding a courtyard. In the court-yard, a large movable stone, in
good preservation, with the -ing that served to lift




46 -TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
it, covered a cistern.  At the extremity of the por
tico, in a hemicycle, stood a headless statue —perhaps
the Piety or Concord to which the entire edifice was
dedicated. Behind the hemicycle a sort of square
niche buried itself in the wall between two doors,
one of which, painted on the wall for the sake of
symmetry, is a useful and curious document. It is
separated into three lo10g and narrow  panels and
is provided with a ring that should have served to
move it.  Doors are nowhere to be seen Low  in
Pompeii, because they were of wood, and  consequently were consumed by the fire; hence, this
painted representation has filled the savants with
delight; they now  know  that the ancients shut
themselves inl at home by processes exactly like oar
own.
Between the two doors, in the square niche, thle
statue of Eumachia, or, at least, a moulded mode.l
of that. statue, is still erect ulpon its pedestal. It
is of a female of tall stature, who looks sad and ill.
An inscription informs us that the statue was erected
in her honor by the fullers. These artisans formed
quite a respectable corporation at Pompeii, and we




THE FORUM.                  47
shall presently visit the manufactory where they
worked. Everything is now  explained: the edifice
of Eumachia must have been the Palace of Industry of that city and period. This is the Pompeian
M3erchants' Exchange, where transactions took place
in the portico, and in winter, in the crypt. The tribnnal of commerce sat in the hemicycle, at the foot
of the statue of Concord, raised there to appease
quarrels between the merchants. In tile court-yard,
the huge blocks of stone still standing were the
tables on which their goods were spread. The cistern and the large vats yielded the conveniences to
wash them. In fine, the Chalcidicum was the smaller Exchange, and the niches still seen there must;have been the stands of the auctioneers. But what'was there in common between this market, this fullers'-counter, and the mn~elancholy priestess?
RTeligion at that period entered into everything,
even into trade and industry. A secret door put the
edifice of Euinachia in communication with the adjacent temple. That temple, which was dedicated to
Mercury - why to MIercury? -.or to Quirinus - why
not to M/Iercury? -at this day forms a small museum of




48           THIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
precious relics. The entrance to it is closed with a
grating through which a sufficient view may be had of
the bas-relief on the altar, representing a sacrifice. A
personage whose head is half-veiled presides at the
ceremony; behind that person a child carries the
consecrated water in a vase, and the victimarius,
bearing an axe, leads the bull that is to be offered up.
Behind the sacrificial party are some flute-players.
On the two sides of the altar other bas-reliefs represent the instruments that were used at the sacrifices;
the lituus, or curved staff of the augur; the acerra,
or perfuming censer; the gnantile, or consecrated cloth
that - let us simply say, the napkin,- and, finally, the
vases peculiar to these ceremonies, the patere, the
simpulum, and the prefericlt1um.
That altar is the only curiosity in the temple. The
remainder is not worth the trouble of being studied
or reconstructed.  The mural paintings form  an
adornment of questionable taste. A rear door puts
the temple in communication with the Senaculunz, or
Senate-house, as the neighboring structure was called;
but the Pompeian Senators being no more than decurions, it is an ambitious title. A vestibule that




THE FORUM.                 49
comes forward as far as the colonnade of the Forum;
then a spacious saloon or hall; an arch at the end,
with a broad foundation where the seats of the decemviri possibly stood; then, walls built of rough stones
arranged in net-work (opus reticulatum), some niches
without statues - such is all that remains. But with
a ceiling of wood painted in bright colors (the walls
could not have held up a vaulted roof), and completely paved, completely sheathed with marble, as
some flags and other remnants indicate, this hall could
not have been without some richness of effect. Those
who sat there were but the magistrates of a small city;
but behind them loomed up RIome, whose vast shadow
embraced and magnified everything.
At length we have before us the Pantheon, the
strangest and the least easy to name of the edifices of
Pompeii. It is not parallel to the Forum, but its'obliquity was adroitly masked by shops in which many
pieces of coin have been found. Hence the conclusion that these were tabernce argentarice, the moneychangers' offices, and I cannot prove the contrary.
The two entrance doors are separated by two Corinthian columns, between which is hollowed out a




50           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
niche without a statue. The capitals of these columns
bear Coesarean eagles. Could this Pantheon have
been the temple of Augustus?  I-Having passed the
doors, one reaches an area, in which extended, to the
right and to the left, a spacious portico surrounding a
court, in the midst of which remain twelve pedestals
that, range I in circular order, once, perhaps, sustained
the pillars of a circular temple or the statues of twelve
godls. This, then, was the Pantheon. However, at
the extremity of the edifice, and directly opposite to
the entrance, three apartments open. The middle one
formed a chapel; three statues were found there represellting Drusus and Livia, the wife of Augustus, along
with an arm holding a globe, and belonging, no doubt,
to the consecrated statue which must have stood upon
the pedestal at the end, a statue of the Emperor. Themn_
this was the temple of Augustus. The apartment to
the left shows a niche and an altar, and served, perhaps, for sacrifices; the room to the right offers a stone
bench arranged in the shape of a horse-shoe. It could
not be one of those triple beds (tricliniac) which we
shall find in the eating saloons of the private houses;
for the slope of these benches would have forced the




TIIE FORUM.                  51
eclining guests to have their heads turned toward
the wall or their feet higher than their heads.
Mioreover, in  the interior of this bench  runs a
conduit evidently intended to afford passage to certain liquids, perhaps to the blood of animals slaughtered in the place. This,'therefore, was neither a
Pantheon nor a temple of Augustus, but a slaughterhouse (macellumn.)  In that case, the eleven  apartments abutting to the right on the long wall of the
edifice would be the stalls.  But these rooms, in
which the regular orifices made in the wall were to
hold the beams that sustained the second story, were
adorned with paintings which still exist, and which
must have been quite luxurious for those poor oxen.
Let us interrogate these paintings and those of all
these walls; they will instruct us, perhaps, with reference to the destination of the building. There are
mytlologrical and  epic pieces reproducinFg  certain
sacred subjects, of which we shall speak further cn.
Others show us winged infants, little Cupids weaving
garlands, of which the ancients were so fond; some of
the bacchanalian divinities, celebrating the festival of
the mills, are crowning with flowers the patient ass




52           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
who is turning the wheel. Flowers on all sides —
that was the fantasy of antique times. Flowers at
their wild banquets, at their august ceremonies,
at their sacrifices, and at their festivals; flowers on
the necks of their victims and their guests, and on
the brows of their women and their gods. But the
greatest number of these paintings appear destined
for banquetting-halls; dead nature predominates in
them; you see nothing but pullets, geese, ducks, partridges, fowls, and game of all kinds, fruits, and eggs,
amphore, loaves of bread and cakes, hams, and I
know not what all else. In the shops attached to this
palace belong all sorts of precious articles —vases,
lamps, statuettes, jewels, a handsome alabaster cup;
besides, there have been found five hundred and fifty
small bottles, without counting the goblets, and, in
vases of glass, raisins, figs, chestnuts, lentils, and near
them  scales and bakers' and pastry-cooks' moulds.
Could the Pantheon, then, have been a tavern, a freo
inn (hospitium) where strangers were received under
the protection Df the gods? In that case the supposed
butcher-shop must have been a sort of office, and the
tricliniu2n a dormitory. JIowever that may be, the




THE FORUM.                  53
table and the altar, the kitchen and religion, elbow
each other in this strange palace. Our austerity revolts and our frivolity is amused at the circumstance;
but Catholics of the south are not at all surprised at
it. Their mode of worship has retained something of
the antique gaiety.  For the common people of!Naples, Christmas is a festival of eels, Easter a revel
of casatelli; they eat zeppole to honor Saint Joseph;
and the greatest proof of affliction that can be given
to the dying Saviour is not to eat meat. Beneath the
sky of Italy dogmas may change, but the religion will
always be the same - sensual and vivid, impassioned
and prone to excess, essentially and eternally Pagan,
above all adoring woman, Venus or Mary, and the
hambnbino, that mystic Cupid whom  the poets called
the first love. Catholicism  and Paganism, theories
and mysteries; if there be two religions, they are that
of the south and that of the north.
You have just explored the whole'eastern part of
the Forum. Pass now in front of the temple of Jupiter and reach the western part. In descending from
north to south, the first monument that strikes your
attention is a rather long portico, turned on the east




54           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
toward the Forum. Different observers have fancied
that they discovered in it apoecile, a museum, a divan,
a club, a granary for corn; and all these opinions are
equally good.
Behind the poecile open small chambers, of which
some are vaulted. Skeletons were found in them, and
the inference was that they were prisons. Lower
down extends along the Forum the lateral wall of the
temple of Venus. In this wall is hollowed a small
square niche in which there rose, at about a yard in
height from the soil, a sort of table of tufa, indented
with regular cavities, which are ranged in the order of
their capacity; these were the public measures. An
inscription gives us the names of the duumvirs who
had gauged them by order of the decurions. As All.
Breton has well remarked, they were the standards of
measurement. Of these five cavities, the two smallest
were destined for liquids, and we still see the holes
through which those liquids flowed off when they had
been measured. The table of tufa has been talken to
the museum, and in its place has been substituted a
rough imitation, which gives a sufficient idea of this
curious monument.




TIIE FORUM.                 555
Tlhe temple of Venus is entered from the neighborin( street which we have already traversed.  The ruin
is a fine one - the finest, perhaps, in Pompeii; a spacious inclosure, or peribolus, framing a portico of
forty-eight columns, of which many are still standing,
and the portico itself surrounding the podium, where
rose the temple —properly speaking, the house of the
goddess. In front of the entrance, at the foot of the
steps that ascend to the podium, rises the altar, poorly
calculated for living sacrifices and seemingly destined
for simple offerings of fruit, cakes, and incense, which
were consecrated to Venus. Besides the form of the
altar, an inscription found there and a statue of the
goddess, whose modest attitude recalls the masterpiece
of Florence, sufficiently authorize the name, in the absence of more exact information, that has been given
ito this edifice.  Others, however, have attributed it to
the worship of Bacehus; others again to that of Diana,
and the question has not yet been settled by the savans; but Venus being the patroness of Pompeii,
deserved the handsomest temple in the little city.
The columns of the peribolus or inclosure bear tho
traces of some bungling repairs made between the




56           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
earthquake of 63 and the eruption of 79. They were
I)oric, but the attempt was to re-ider them Corinthian,
and, to this end, they were covered with stucco and
topped with capitals that are not becoming to them.
Against one of these columns still leans a statue in the
form of a IIermes. Around the court is cut a small
kennel to carry off the rain water, which was then
caught in reservoirs. The wall along the Forum was
gaily decorated with handsome paintings; one of
these, probably on wood, was burned in the eruption,
and the vacant place where it belonged is visible. Behind the temple open rooms Tormerly intended for the
priests; handsome paintings were found there, also —
among them a Bacchus, resting his elbow on the shoulder of old Silenus, who is playing the lyre. Absorbed
in this music, he forgets the wine in his goblet, and
lets it fall out upon a panther crouching at his feet.
We now have only to visit the temple itself, the
house of the goddess. The steps that scaled the basement story were thirteen —an odd number- so that in
ascending the first step with the right foot, the level of
the sanctuary was also reached with the right foot.
The temple was per ipterous, that is to say, entirely




THE FORUM.                 57
surrounded with open columns with Corinthian capi
tals. The portico opened broadly, and a mosaic of
marbles, pleasingly adjusted, formed the pavement of
the celac, of which the painted walls represented simple panels, separated here and there by plain pilasters. Our Lady of Pompeii dwelt there.
The last monunmefit of the Forum  on the southwest side is the Basilica; and the street by which we
have entered separates it from the temple of Venus.
The construction of the edifice leaves no doubt
as to its destination, which is, moreover, confirmed
by the word Basilica or Basilaca, scratched here
and there by loungers with the points of their knives,
on the wall.  Basilica - derived from a Greek word
which signifies;iing-mnight be translated with suffi~ient exactness by royal court.  At Rome, these
difices mwere originally mere covered market-places'sheltered from  the rain and the sun.  At a later
period, colonnades divided them in three, sometimes
even into five naves, and the simple niche which,
intended for the judges' bench, was hollowed out
at the foot of its monuments, finally developed into
a vaulted semicircle. At last, the early Christians




58           TIII WVONDERS OF POMPEII.
finding themselves crowded in the old temples, chose
the high courts of justice to therein celebrate the
worship of the new  God, and the Roman ]3asilica
imposed its architecture and its proportions upon the
Catholic Cathedral.  In the semicircle, then, where
once the ancient magistracy held its justice seat,
arose the high altar and the consecrated image of
the crucified Saviour.
The Basilica of Pompeii presents to the Forum
six pillars, between which  five portals slid  along
grooves which are still visible. A xvestibule, or sort
of chalcidicum  extends between these five entrances
and five others, indicated by two columns and four
pillars. The vestibule once crossed, the edifice appears in its truly Roman grandeur; at first glance
thbe eye reconstructs the broad brick columns, regularly truncated in shape (they might be considere<l
unfinished), which are still erect on. their bases adnc
which, crowned with  Ionic volutes, were to  form
a monumental portico along the four' sides of this
majestic area paved with  marble.  Ilalf columns
fixed in the lateral walls supported the gallery; they
joined each other in the angles; the middle space




TIlE FORIUM.                59
must have been uncovered.  Fragments of statues
and even of mounted figures proclaim  the magniificence of this monument, at the extremity of which
there rose, at the height of some six feet above the
soil, a tribune adorned with half a dozen Corin
thian columns and probably destined for the use
of the duumvirs. The middle columns stood more
widely apart in order that the magistrates nmight,
from their seats, command a view of the entire Basilica.  Under this tribune -was concealed a mysterious cellar with barred windows. Some antiquaries
affirm that there was the place where prisoners were
tortured. They forget that in olme, in the antique
time, cases were adjudged publicly before the free
people.
Some of the walls of the Basilica were covered with' vpcities, that is to say, with inscriptions scratchled
Wvith the point of a nail or of a knife by loungers
on the way. I do not here copy the thousand and
one insignificant inscriptions which I find in my ram-.bles. They wonld teach us nothing but the names
of the Pompeian.magistrates who had constructed
or reconstructed this or that monument or such-and



60            TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
such a portion of an edifice with the public money.
But the graphites of the Basilica merit a moment's
attention.  Sometimes, these are verses of Ovid or
of Virgil or Propertius (never of Ilorace, singular
to say), and frequently with curious variations.  Thus,
for example:
"Quid pete durum Samso aut quid mollius unda?
Dura tamen molli Saxsa cavantur aqua."
(Ovid.)
Notice the s in the saxo and the 2quid pote instead
of quid nagis; it is a Greekism.
Elsewhere were written these two lines:
"Quisquis amator crit Scythihe licet ambulet oris:
Nemo adeo ut feriat barbarus esse volet."
Propertius had put this distich in an elegy in whichT
he narrated a nocturnal promenade between Ronrro
and Tibur.  Observe  the word Scythice instead of
Sycthicis, and especially, feriat, which is the true
reading,?-the printed texts say noceat.  Thus an excellent correction has been preserved for us by Vesuvius.




THE FORUMI.                    61
-Iere are other lines, the origin of whVlich is unknown:
"Scribenti mi dictat Amor, monstrat que Cupido
Ali pereamrn, sine te si Deus esse velim! "
I-low  many modern poets have uttered the same
exclhmation!  They little dreamed that a Pompeian,
a slave no doubt, had, eighteen centuries before their
time, scratched it with a nail upon the wall of a basilica.  Here is a sentence that mentions gold.  It has
been carried out by the English poet, Wordsworth:
M' inimum mualum fit contemnendco maximum,
Quod, crede llli, non contemnlenlo, erit minus."
Let us copy also this singular truth thrown into.hyme by some gourmand who had connted without
s host:
"Quoi perna cocta est, si convive adponitur,
Non gustat pernam, lingit ollaml ant caccabum."
This gzmoi is for cui; the caccabus was the kettle in
which the fowl was cooked.
6




62             TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
Here follows some wholesome advice for the health
of lovers:
" Quisquis amat calidis non debet fontibus uti:
Nam nemo flammis ustus amare potest."
I should never get through were I to quote them all.
But how many short phrases there are that, scratched
here and there, cause this old monument to spring up
again, by revealing the thoughts and fancies of the
loungers and passers-by who peopled it so many years
ago.
A lover had written this:
" Nemo est bellus lisi qui amavit."
A friend:
" Vale, Messala, fac me ames."
A superlative wag, but incorrect withal:
"Cosmus nequitiae est magnussimae."
A learned man, or a philosopher:
"Non est exsilium ex patria sapientibus."
A complaining suitor:
"Sara non belle, facis.
Solum me relinquis,
Debilis..




TIIE FORUM.                      63
A  wrangler and  disputant threatening  the other
party with a law-suit:
"Somius Corneilio (Cornelio) jus pendre (perendie?)"
A sceptic who cherishes no illusions as to the mode
of administering justice:
" Quod pretium legi?"
A censor, perhaps a Christian, who knew the words
addressed  by the Jews to the blind man  who was
cured:
"Pyrrhus Getae conlegae salutem.
3Ioleste fero quod audivi te mortuom (sic).
Itaque vale."
A jovial wine bibber:
"Suavis vinari sitit, rogo vas valde sitit." *
A wit:
"Zetema mulier ferebat filium simulem sui nec meus erat, nec
mi simulat; sed vellein esset meus, et ego volebamn ut meus
esset."
Tennis-players scribble:
"AImianthus, Epaphra, Tertius ludant cuml Hedysio, Ilcun.
dus Nolanus petat, numeret Citus et Stacus Amianthus."
* For sitiat.




64           TIHE WONDERS OF POSIPEII.
Wordsworth remarks that these two names, Tertius
and Epaphras, are found in the epistles of St. Paul.
Epaphras (in Latin, Epaphra; the suppressed letter s
shows that this Pompeian was merely a slave) is very
often named on the walls of the little city; lie is accused, moreover, of being beardless or destitute of hair
(Epapphra glaber est), and of knowing nothing about tennis. (Epapocrac pilicrepus non es). This inscription was
found all scratched over, probably by the hand of Epaphras himself, who had his own feelings of pride as a
fine player.
Thus it is that the stones of Pompeii are full of revelations with reference to its people. The Basilica is
easy to reconstruct and provide with living occupants.
Yonder duumviri, up between the Corinthian columns;
in front of them the accused; here the crowd; lovers
confiding their secrets to the wall; thinllkers scribblinfg
their maxims on them; wags getting off their witti:cisms in the same style; the slaves, in fine, the poor, announcing to the most remote posterity that they had, at
least, the game of tennis to console them for their
abject condition! Still three small apartments the extremity of which rounded off into semicircles (prob



THlE FORUM.                 65
ably inferior tribunes where subordinate magistrates.
such as commissioners or justices of the peace, had
their seats); then the school of Verna, cruelly dilapidated; finally a small triumphal arch on which there
stood, perhaps, a qtuadriga, or four-yoked chariot-team;
some pedestals of statues erected to illustrious Pompeians, to Pansa, to Sallust, to Mlarcus Lucretius,
Decidaimius IRuffus; some inscriptions in honor of this
one or that one, of the great Romulus, of the aged
Atneas,-when all these have been seen, or glanced at,
at least, you will have made the tour of the Forum.
You now know what the public exchange was in a
Roman city; a spacious court surrounded by the most
important monuments (three temples, the bourse, the
tribunals, the prisons, etc.), inclosed on all sides (traces,f the barred gates are still discernible at the ent~kances), adorned with statues, triumphal arches, and
colonnadcs; a centre of business and pleasure; a place
for sauntering and keeping appointments; the Corso, the
Boulevard of ancient times, or in other words, the heart
of the city. Without any great effort of the imagination, all this scene revives again and becomes filled
with a living, variegated throng,-the portico and its
6*




G60          THIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
two stories of columns along the edge of the reconstructed monuments; women crowd the upper galleries; loiterers drag their feet along the pavement; the
long robes gather in harmonious folds; busy merchants
hurry to the Chalcidicuin; the statues look proudly
down from their re-peopled pedestals; the noble language of the Romans resounds on all sides in scanned,
sonorous measure; and the temple of Jupiter, seated at
the end of the vista, as on a throne, and richly adorned
with Corinthian elegance, glitters in all its splendor
in the broad sunshine.
An air of pomp and grandeur - a breath of Rome
— has swept over this collection of public edifices.
Let us descend from these heights and walk about
through the little city.




III.
TIHE STREET.
D[E PLAN OF POMPEII. -THE PRINCELY NAMES OF THE OUSES. — APPEARANCE OPlt
THE STREETS, PAVEMENTS, SIDEWALKS, ETC. -THE SHOPS AND THE SIGNS. -
THE PERFUMER, THE SURGEON, ETC. -AN ANCIENT MANUFACTORY. - BATHING
ESTABLISHMENTS. -WINE-SHOPS, DISREPUTABLE RESORTS. — HANGING BALCONIES, FOUNTAINS. -PUBLIC PLACARDS: LET US NOMINATE BATTUR! COMMIT
NO NUISANCE!-RELIGION ON THE STREET.
You hlave no need of me for this excursion.  Cast
a glance at the plan, and you will be able to find your
own way.  You will there  see an oval inclosure, a
wall pierced with several entrances designated by the
names of the roads which ran from them, or rather of
the cities at which these roads terminated-  I-Iercula6eum, Nola, Stabkie, etc.  Two-thirds of the egg are'still immaculate; you discover a black spot only on the
extreme right, marking out the Amphitheatre. All
this white space shows you the part of Pompeii that
has not yet been designated.  It is a hillside covered
with vineyards, gardens, and orchards. It is only on
the left that you  will find  the  lines marking  the




68           TIIE WONDERIS OF POMPEII.
streets, the houses, the monuments, and the public
squares. The text gives us the fancied names attributed to the streets, namely: the Street of Abundance, the Street of Twelve Gods, the Street of
Mlercury, the Street of Fortune, the Street of Fortunata, Modest Street, etc. The names given to
the houses are still more arbitrary. Most of them
were christened, under the old system, by the august
or illustrious personages before whom they were dug
out for the first time. Thus, we have at Pompeii
the house of Francis II., that of Championnet, that
of Joseph II.; those of the Queen of England, the
King of Prussia, the Grand Duke of Tuscany; that
of the Emperor, and those of the Empress and of
the Princes of Russia; that of Goethe, of the Duchlless
de Berry, of the Duke d'Aumale — I skip them by
scores. The whole Gotha Almanac might there be
passed in review. This determined, ramble througL'
the streets at will, without troubling yourself about
their names, as these change often at the caprice of
antiquaries and their guides.
The narrowness of these streets will surprise you;
and if you come hither to look for a Broadway, you




THE STREET.                  69
lad better have remained at home. What we call
great arteries of traffic were unknown to the Pomr
peians, who cut only small paved paths between their
houses- for the sake of health, they said. We entertain different views of this question of salubrity.
The greatest width of a Pompeian street is seven
yards, and there are some which are comprised, sidewalks and all, within a space of two yards and a
half. These sidewalks are raised, very narrow, and
paved very variously, according to the wealth or the
fancy of the proprietors, who had to keep them in
good order. IIere are handsome stone flags; further
on merely the soil beaten down; in front of the next
house are marble slabs, and here and there patches
of opteS sig1inZum, a sort of rudimentary mosaic, to?vhich we shall refer further on. These sidewalks
4vere intersected with curbstones, often pierced with
holes - in front of shops, for instance - perhaps for
tethering the cows and donkevs of the peasants who
every morning brought the citizens milk or baskets
of vegetables to their own doors. Between the sidewalLs was hollowed out the street, paved with coarse
blockls of lava which time has not worn down. When




70           TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
Pansa went to the dwelling of Paratus his sandals trod
the same stones that now receive the impress of our
boots. On rainy days this street must have been the
bed of a torrent, as the alleys and by-ways of Naples
are still; hence, one, sometimes three, thicker blocks
were placed so as to enable foot passengers to cross with
dry feet. These small fording blocks must have made
it difficult for vehicles to get by; hence, the ruts that
are still found traceable on the pavement are the
marks of wagons drawn slowly by oxen, and not of
those light chariots which romance-writers launch
forth so briskly in the ancient city. Moreover, it has
been ascertained that the Pompeians went'afoot;
only the quality had themselves drawn  about in
chariots in the country. Where could room  have
been found for stables and carriage-houses in those
dwellings scarcely larger than your hat?  It wans
in the suburbs only, in the outskirts of the city, that
the dimensions of the residences rendered anything
of the kind possible. Let us, then, obliterate these
chariots from our imagination, if we wish to see the
streets of Pompeii as they really were.




TIlE STREET.                71
After a shower, the rain water descended, little
by little, into the gutters, and from the latter, by
holes still visible, into a subterranean conduit that
carried it outside of the city. One of these conduits
is still open in the Street of Stabike, not far from
the temple of Isis.
As to the general aspect of these ancient thoroughfares, it would seem dull enough, were we to represent the scene to our fancy with the houses
closed, the windows gone, the dwellings with merely
a naked wall for a front, and receiving air and light
only from  the two courts. ZBut it was not so, as
everything goes to prove. In the first place, the
shops looked out on the street and were, indeed
almost entirely open, like our own, offering to the,gaze of the passers-by a broad counter, leaving
only a small space free to the left or the right to
let the vendors pass in and out. In these counters,
which were usually covered with a marble slab,
were hollowed the cavities wherein the grocers and
liquor-dealers kept their eatables and  drinkables.
Behind the counters and along the walls were stone
shelves, upon vwhich the stock was put away. Fes



72           TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
toons of edibles hung displayed from pillar to pillar:
stuffs, probably, adorned the fronts, and the customers, who made their purchases from  the sidewalk,
must have everywhere formed noisy and very animated groups. The native of the south gesticulates
a great deal, likes to chaffer, discusses with vehemence, and speaks loudly and quickly with a glib
tongue and a sonorous voice. Just take a look at
him  in the lower quarters of Naples, which, in
more than one point of view, recall the narrow
streets of Pompeii.
These shops are now dismantled. Nothing of them
remains but the empty counters, and here and there
the grooves in which the doors slid to and fro.
These doors themselves were but a number of shultters fitting into each other. But the paintings or
carvings which still exist upon some side pillars
are old signs that inform  us what was sold on the
adjoining counter. Thus, a goat in terra cotta indicated a milk-depot; a mill turned by an ass
showed where there was a miller's establishment;
two men, walking one ahead of the other and each
carrying one end of a stick, to the middle of which




TIlE STREET.                73
an amphora is suspended, betray the neighborhood
of a wine-merchant.  Upon other pillars are marked
other articles not so readily understood,- here an
anchor, there a ship, and in another place a checkerboard. Did they understand the game of Palamedes at Pompeii? A shop near the Thermse, or public warm baths, is adorned on its front with a representation of a gladiatorial combat.  The author
of the painting thought something of his work, which
lie protected with this inscription: "Abiat (IAa6eat)
Venerenz Pomnpet.ancam  tradcanz (ircatam) qtui ioc
Iceserit!  (May he who injures this picture have the
wrath of the Pompeian Venus upon him! )"
Other shops have had their story written by the
articles that they contained when they were found.
Thus, when there were discovered in a suite of
rooms opening on the Street of IHerculaneum, certain levers one of whicl ended in the foot of a pig,
along with hammers, pincers, iron rings, a wagonspring, the felloe of a wheel, one could say without being too bold that there had been the shop
of a wagon-maker or blacksmith.  The forge occupied only one apartment, behind which opened a
7




74          TIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
bath-room  and a store-room.  Not far from  there
a pottery is indicated by a very curious oven, the
vault of which is formed of hollow tubes of baked
clay, inserted one within the other. Elsewhere was
discovered the shop of the barber who washed,
brushed, shaved, clipped, combed and perfumed the
Pompeians living near the Forum. The benches of
masonry are still seen where the customers sat. As
for the dealers in soap, unguents, and essences, they
nlust have been numerous; their products supplied
not only the toilet of the ladies, but the religious
or funeral ceremonies, and after having perfumed
the living, they embalmed the dead.  Besides the
shops in which the excavators have come suddenly
apon a stock of fatty and pasty substances, which,
perhaps, were soaps, we might mention one, on the
pillar of which three paintings, now effaced, represented a sacrificial attendant leading a bull to the
altar, four men bearing an enormous chest around
which were suspended several vases; then a body
washed and anointed for embalming. Do you understand this mournful-looking sign?  The unguent




TIHE STREET.               75
dealer, as he was. called, thus made up the body
and publicly placarded it.
From  the perfumery man to the chemist is but
a step. The shop of the latter tradesman was foundso it is believed, at all events in clearing out a triple
furnace with walled boilers. Two pharmacies or
drug-stores, one in the Street of lHerculaneum, the
other fronting the Chalcidicum, have been more
exactly designated not only by a sign'on which there
was seen a serpent (one of the symbols of ~sculapius) eating a pineapple, but by tablets, pills, jars, and
vials containing dried-up liquids, and a bronze medicine chest divided into compartments which must
have contained drugs. A groove for the spatula had
been ingeniously constructed in this curious little
piece of furniture.
Not far from the apothecary lived the doctor, who
was an apothecary himself and a surgeon besides,
and it was in his place that were discovered the
celebrated instruments of surgery which are at the
museum, and which have raised such stormy debates
between Dr. Purgon and Dr. Pancratius. The first,
being a doctor, deemed himself competent to give




76           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
an account of these instruments, whereat the second,
being an antiquary, became greatly irritated, seeing
that the faculty, in his opinion, has nothing to do
with archzeology. IIowever that may be, the articles are at the museum, and everybody can look at
them. There is a forceps, to pull teeth with, as soime
affirm; to catch and compress arteries, as others declare; there is a specillum of bronze, a probe rounded
in the form of an S; there are lancets, pincers, spatulte, hooks, a trident, needles of all kinds, incision
knives, cauteries, cupping-glasses —I don't know what
not- fully three hundred different articles, at all
events. This rich collection proves that the ancients
were quite skilful in  surgery  and  had invented
many instruments thought to be modern.  This is
all that it is worth our while to know. For more
ample information, examine the volume entitled.ifemoizres de l'Accadeenie d'l-erceulaneufm.
Other shops (that of the color merchant, that of
the goldsmith, the sculptor's atelier, etc.) have revealed to us some of the processes of the ancient
artists. We know, for instance, that those of Pompeii employed mineral substances almost exclusively




TIlE STREET.                77
in the preparation of their colors; among them
chalk, ochre, cinnabar, minium, etc. The vegetable
kingdom furnished them nothing but lamp-black,
and the animal kingdom  their purple. The colors
mixed with rosin have occasioned the belief that
encaustic was the process used by the ancients in
their mural paintings, an opinion keenly combatted
by other hypotheses, themselves no less open to discussion; into this debate it is not our part to enter.
HIowever the case may be, the color dealer's family
was fearfully decimated by the eruption, for fourteen skeletons were found in his shop.
As for the sculptor, he was very busy at the time
of the catastrophe; quite a number of statues were
found in his place blocked out or unfinished, and
with them were instruments of his profession, such
as scissors, punchers, files, etc. All of these are at
the museum in Naples.
There were artists, then, in Pompeii, but above
all, there were artisans. The fullers so often mentioned by the inscriptions must have been the most
numerous; they formed a respectable corporation.
Their factory has been discovered.  It is a peri7*




78           TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
style surrounded with rooms, some of which served
for shops and others for dwellings. A painted inscription on the street side announces that the dyers
(ofectores) vote for Posthumus Procnlus.  These
oqectores were those who retinted woollen goods.
Those who did the first dyeing were called the infectores. Infectores qtui alienunm colorem in lananm
conficiunt, ofectores qui proprio colori novum  ofciunt. In the workshop there were four large basins, one above the other; the water descended from
the first to the next one and so on down to the
last, there being a fifth sunken in the ground.
Along the four basins ran a platform, at the end
of which were ranged six or seven smaller basins,
or vats, in which the stuffs were piled up and fulled.
At the other extremity of the court, a small marble reservoir served, probably, as a washing vat for
the workmen. But the most curious objects among
the ruins were the paintings, now transferred to the
museum at Naples, which adorned one of the pillars of the court. There a workman could be very
distinctly seen dressing, with a sort of brush or card,
a piece of white stuff edged with red, while another




THE STREET.                 79
is coming toward him, bearing on his head one of
those large osier cages or frames on which the girls
of that region still spread their clothes to dry. These
cages resemble the bell-shaped steel contrivances
which our ladies pass under their skirts. Thus, in
the Neapolitan dialect, both articles are called drying-horses (asciutta-pannt). Upon the drying-horse
of the Pompeian picture perches the bird of lMinerva, the protectress of the fullers and the goddess of labor. To the left of the workmen, a young
girl is handing some stuffs to a youthful, richlydressed lady, probably a customer, seated near by.
Another painting represents workmen dressing and
fulling all sorts of tissues, with their hands and feet
in tubs or vats exactly like the small basins
which we saw in the court. A third painting shows
the mistress of the house giving orders to her slaves;
and the fourth represents a fulling press which might
te deemed modern, so greatly does it resemble those
still employed in our day. The importance of this
edifice, now so stripped and dilapidated, confirms
what writers have told us of the Pompeian fullers
and their once-celebrated branch of trade.




80            TIIE WONDERIS OF POMTPEII.
IIowever, most of tile shops the use of which has not
been precisely designated, were places where provisions
of different kinds were kept and sold.  The oil nmerchant in the street leading to the Odeon was especially
noticeable among them  all for the beauty of his counter, which was covered with a slab of ci;pollinio and gray
marble, encrusted, on the outside, with a round slab of
porphyry between two rosettes.  Eight earthenware
vases still containing olives* and coagulated oil were
found in the establishment of this stylish grocer.
The bathing concerns were  also very numerous.
They were the coffee-houses of the ancient day.  HIot
drinks were sold there, boiled and perfumed wine, and
all sorts of mixtures, which must have been detestable,
but for which the ancients seem to have had a special
fancy.  "A  thousand and a thousand  times more
respectable than  the wine-shops of our day, these
bathing-houses of ages gone by, where men did not
* These olives which, when found, were still soft and pasty, had
a rancid smell and a greasy but pungent flavor. The kernels were
less elongated and more bulging than those of the Neapolitan
olives; were very hard and still contained some shreds of their
pith. In a word, they were perfectly preserved, and although
eighteen centuries old, as they were, you would have thought they
had been plucked but a few months before.




THE STREET.                81
assemble to shamefully squander their means and
their existence while gorging themselves with wine,
but where they came together to amuse themselves in a
decent manner, and to drink warm  water without
risk.".... Le Sage, who wrote the foregoing sentence, was not accurately informed. The liquors sold
at the Pompeian bathing-houses were verv strong, and,
in more than one place where the points of the amphorae rested, they have left yellow marks on the pavement. Vinegar has been detected in most of these
drinks. In the tavern of Fortunata, the marble of the
counter is still stained with the traces of the ancient
goblets.
Bakeries were not lacking in Pompeii. The most
complete one is in the Street of Ilerculaneum, where
it fills a whole house, the inner court of which is occupied with four mills. Nothing could be more crude
and elementary than those mills. Imagine two huge
blocks of stone representing two cones, of which the
upper one is overset upon the other, giving every mill
the appearance of an hour-glass. The lower stone
remained motionless, and the other revolved by means
of an apparatus kept in motion by a man or a donkey.




82          THE WONDERS OF POIPEII.
The grain was crushed between the two stones in the
old patriarchal style. The poor ass condemned to do
this work must have been a very patient animal; but
what shall we say of the slaves often called in to fill
his place? For those poor wretches it was usually a
punishment, as their eyes were put out and then they
were sent to the mill. This was the menace held over
their heads when they misbehaved. For others it was a
very simple piece of service which more than one man
of mind performed - Plautus, they say, and Terence.
To some again, it was, at a later period, a method of
paying for their vices; when the millers lackled hands
they established bathing-houses around their mills, and
the passers-by who were caught in the trap had to'work the machinery.
Let us hasten to add that the work of the mill which
we visited was not performed by a Christian, as they
would say at lNaples, but by a mule, whose bones were
found in a neighboring room, most likely a stable, the
racks and troughs of which were elevated about two
and a half feet above the floor. In a closet near by,
the watering trough is still visible. Then again, religion,
which everywhere entered into the ancient manners




THE STREET.                 83
and customs of Italy, as it does into the new, reveals
itself in the paintings of the pzistrinumj; we there see
the sacrifices to Fornax, the patroness of ovens and
the saint of kitchens.
But let us return to our mills. Mills driven by the
wind were unknown to the ancients, and water-mills
did not exist in Pompeii, owing to the lack of running
water. Hence these mills put in motion by manual
labor -the old system employed away back in the days
of Itomer. On the other hand, the institution of complete baking as a trade, with all its dependent processes,
did not date so far back. The primitive Romans made
their bread in their own houses. Rome was already
nearly five hundred years old when the first bakers
established stationary mills, to which the proprietors
sent their grain, as they still do in the Neapolitan provinces; in return they got loaves of bread; that is to
say, their material ground, kneaded, and baked. The
Pompeian establishment that we visited was one of
these complete bakeries.
We could still recognize the troughs that served
for the manipulation of the bread, and the oven, the
arch of which is intact, with the cavity that retained




84          TIIE WONDERS OF POiPEII.
the ashes, the vase for water to besprinkle the crust and
make it shiny, and, finally, the triple-flued pipe that
carried off the smokee- an excellent system revealed
by the Pompeian excavations and successfully imitated since then. The bake-oven opened upon two
small rooms by two apertures. The loaves went in at
one of these in dough, and came out at the other, baked.
The whole thing is in such a perfect state of preservation that one might be tempted to employ these old
bricks, that have not been used for eighteen centuries,
for the same purpose. The very loaves have survived.
In the bakery of which I speak several were found
with the stamps upon them, siligo grani (wheat flour),
or e cicera (of bean flour) - a wise precaution against
the bad faith of the dealers. Still more recently, in
the latest excavations, Signor Fiorelli came across an
oven so hermetically sealed that there was not a particle of ashes in it, and there were eighty-one loaves,
a little sad, to be sure, but whole, hard, and black,
found in the order in which they had been placed
on the 23d of November, 79. Enchanted with this
windfall, Fiorelli himself climbed into the oven and
took out the precious relics with his  own hands.




:: ~I ~:- i:'!z.~~'  i!'i-:' i-~'::':'~:i':::d:.~-......~':......:~-.
ra~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~l~ ~ ~ ~ ~~;'~..:':?':-,. ~~:. ~i ~-~:'iL ~!'~!!~....... ~~~:                                     ~:'i~~iiiii ~ ~~::!9t.~~              ~ii-'..:iii?)j( i~~!i.~i:~ i~i~.~....~:!iii.ii~ ii..~i~ ~.~!!ii:~ i~;~i:~~' i':::;:~::~: ~....... ~i~~i~ii~~i~i~.11~i~   ii~~iiiiiil:'   ~'~,':,!:   ii::i!iF.i:i!~: ~ii::~i~: 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,~~-.;:-~~:ir;::-::~~i~                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ~     ~~~~i~if i-i.  ~"'~.~  -:~~
i~.......       ~~.j:, ~.:I~~!
a~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i ~'.'::-:,,!~
Q~~~~~~
p~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~r ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~. -i  ~l~~.,~-  i;~i'".~i":l::~::I::~-::i~~ili::
1~~~~~~~ -"-:-:::;:::-:j:-:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~u:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~::ii:~:!ii:!i:i:li::ii::i:~i
~dI~
i ~ ~     ~    ~     ~j         Ijzlri~:: ~i~~~~~X:~-::~......
iiS1    Efiiejs:~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~. —:.~......!i::iii:.': ii:~:~~~;'~"' ~.~.'. ~.;.:t          S\:::!..' X:         i:i:iii!::!:'.~  ~::                          "::~':.-:.::fii:~:~:f'..~.:::.'; ~.:!:i:
O"! i~'::i":,.:
iiil~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'~'~~.'~."!'';iiiii"ii"  "'''''~    K
~'~.....i.....          ~:~~:i:::i:'':....~...~   ~~:~~.~':...
i!:':'"..   ~:...'~:~'~;":~:~!:-'i'~i~::~-~'-:4~i~::i!.   ~'~.~ii::ii!:~::'~'...~ri:
r~~~~~~~~~~~~~::i::::  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i::!.: l i:i::ii::::::  ~~:~ii: ii!:i~:~i!
~  IX                   ~:.".*.:.''!!i~i!!!!!!: ii~~~:!iiiii~~!::!i!iili~~ii:i~.!::i!:i!:i  iiii:i  iii
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:::~::::~::
~i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~::ii~:!~ii~i~iii'~:: Pii.........,.,!,!!:?,.7.:.],,,,],......."'j
ijl::::::::-:::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~........








TIIE STImEET.              85
Most of the loaves weigh about a pound; the heaviest
twelve hundred and four grains. They are round
depressed in the centre, raised on the edges, and
divided into eight lobes. Loaves are still made in
Sicily exactly like them. Professor de Luca weighed
and analyzed them minutely, and gave the result in
a letter addressed to the French Academy of Sciences.
Let us now imagine all these salesrooms, all these
shops, open and stocked with goods, and then the display, the purchasers, the passers-by, the bustle and noise
peculiar to the south, and the street will no longer seem
so dead. Let us add that the doors of the houses were
closed only in the evening; the promenaders and
loungers could then peep, as they went along, into
every alley, and make merry at the bright adornments of the atrium. Nor is this all. The upper
stories, although now  crumbled to dust, were in
communication with the street. Windows opened
discreetly, which must, here and there, have been
the framework of some brown head and countenance
anxious to see and to be seen. The latest excavations have revealed the existence of hanging covered
balconies, long exterior corridors, pierced with case8




86           THE WON'DERS OF POMPEII.
ments, frequently depicted in the paintings. There
the fair Pompeian could have taken her station in
order to participate in the life outside. The good
housewife of those times, like her counterpart in our
day, could there have held out her basket to the streetmerchant who went wandering about with his portable
shop; and more than one handsome girl may at the
same post have carried her fingers to her lips, there
to cull (the ancient custom) the kiss that she flung
to the young Pompeian concealed down yonder in
the corner of the wall. Thus re-peopled), the oldtime street, narrow as it is, was gayer than our own
thoroughlfares; and the brightly-painted houses, the
variegated walls, the monuments, and the fountains,
gave vivid animation to a picture too dazzling for our
gaze.
These fountains, which were very simple, consisted
of large square basins formed of five stone slabs, one
for the bottom and four for the sides, fastened together with iron braces. The water fell into them
from fonts more or less ornamental and usually representing the muzzle of some animal — lions' heads,
masks, an eagle holding a hare in his beak, with








~' —~ ~   ~     _~-~= —-=~;                 i-=__       __i —— C —--      f I..'~-~-~ —r; —-- 7 "'~.....
~g'~~ -                                                                    -.~~           
~~~~~~~~~~~~-  t~    c..' 
_:~ ~~~~~~~~~i
~~~i~~~~~FCoe   Ho.~ wrh r\                                 B,~l:on~  ree~?    ~o




TIHE STREET.                87
the stream flowing into a receptacle from the hare's
mouth. One of these fountains is surrounded with an
iron railing to prevent passers-by from falling into it.
Another is flanked by a capacious vaulted reservoir
(castellunz) and closed with a door. Those who have
seen Rome know  how  important the ancients considered the water that they brought from a distance
by means of the enormous aqueducts, the ruins of
which still mark all the old territories of the empire.
Water, abundant and limpid, ran everywhere, and was
never deficient in the Roman cities. Still it has not
been discovered how the supply was obtained for
Pompeii, destitute of springs as that city was, and,
at the same time, elevated above the river, and receiving nothing in its cisterns but the rain-water so
scantily shed beneath the relentless serenity of that
southern sky. The numberless conduits found, of
lead, masonry, and earthenware, and above all, the
spouting fountains that leaped and sparkled in the
courtyards of the wealthy houses, have led us to
suppose the existence of an aqueduct, no longer
visible, that supplied all this part of Campania with
water.




88          TIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
Besides these fountains, placards and posters enlivened the streets; the walls were covered with them,
and, in sundry places, whitewashed patches of masonry
served for the announcements so lavishly made public.
These panels, dedicated entirely to the poster business,
were called albums. Anybody and everybody had the
right to paint thereon in delicate and slender red
letters all the advertisements which now-a-days we
print on the last, and even on many other pages of
our newspapers. Nothing is more curious than these
inscriptions, which disclose to us all the subjects engaging the attention of the little city; not only its excitements, but its language, ancient and modern, collegiate
and common -the Oscan, the Greek, the Latin, and the
local dialect. Were we learned, or anxious to appear
so, we could, with the works of the really erudite
(Fiorelli, Garrucci, Mommsen, etc.), to help us, have
compiled a chapter of absolutely appalling science in
reference to the epigraphic monuments of Pompeii
We could demonstrate by what gradations the Oscan
language - that of the Pompeian autonomy —yielded
little by little to the Roman language, which was that
of the unity of the state; and to what extent Pompeii,




TIlE STREET.                89
which never was a Greek city, employed the sacred
idiom of the divine Plato. We might even add some
observations relative to the accent and the dialect of
the Pompeians, who pronounced Latin as the Neapolitans pronounce Tuscan and with singularly analogous
alterations. -But what you are looking for here, hurried reader, is not erudition, but living movement.
Choose then, in these inscriptions, those that teach us
something relative to the manners and customs of this
e cad people —dead and buried, but afterward exhlumed.
The most of these announcements are but the proclamations of candidates for office. Pompeii was evidently swallowed lip at the period of the elections.
Sometimes it is an elector, sometimes a group of citizens, then again a corporation of artisans or tradesmen,
who are recommending for the office of Pedile or
duumvir the candidate whom  they prefer.  Thus,
Paratus nominates Pansa, Philippus prefers Caius
Aprasius Felix; Valentinus, with his pupils, chooses
Sabinus and Rufus. Sometimes the elector is in a
hurry; he asks to have his candidate elected quickly.
The fruiterers, the public porters, the muleteers, the




90            TIIIE NVONDERS OF POIPEII.
salt-maker'3, the carpenters, tile truckmen, also unite to
push forward the  dclile who has their confidence. Frequently, in order to give more weight to its vote; the corporation declares itself unanimous.  Thus, all the goldsm-.ths preferred a certain Photinus - a fishmonger,
thinks Overbeck — for mdile. Let us not forget the
sleepers, who declare for Vatia.  By the way, who were
these friends of sleep?  Perhaps they were citizens
who disliked noise; perhaps, too, some association of
nocturnal revellers thus disguised under an ironical
and reassuring title.  Sometimes the candidate is recommended by a eulogistic epithet indicated by seals,
a style of abbreviation much in use among the ancients.  The person recommended is always a good
man, a man of probity, an excellent citizen, a very
moral individual.  Sometimes positive wonders are
promised on his behalf.  Thus, after having designated
Julius Polybius for the  dclileship, an  elector announces that he will bring in good bread. Electoral
intrigue went still further.  We are pretty well on
in that respect, but I think that the ancients were
our masters.  I read the following bare-faced avowal
on a wall: Scabinum  cedilem, Procule, fac et ille te




TIIE STRIEET.                01
*ficiet.  (MIake Sabinus  edile, 0  Proculus, and he
may make thee such!)  Frank and cool that, it strikes
me!
But enough of elections; there is no lack of announcements of another character.  Some of these
give us the programme of the shows in the amphitheatre; such-and-such a troop of gladiators will fight on
such a day; there will be hunting matches and awnings, as well as sprinklings of perfumed waters to refresh the multitude (vencatio, velac, sjparsiones).  Thirty
couples of gladiators will ensanguine the arena.
There were, likewise, posters announcing apartments
to let.
Some  of these inscriptions, either scratched  or
painted, were witticisms or exclamations from  facetious passers-by.  One ranl thus: "Oppius the porter
is a robber, a rotgue!"  Sometimes there were amorous
declarations:  "Augea loves Arabienus."  Upon  a
wall in the Street of 3Mercury, an ivy leaf, forming a
heart, contained the gentle name of Psyche. Elsewhere a mwag, parodying the  style of monumental
inscriptions, had announced that under the consulate of
L. M1onius Asprenas and A. Plotius, there was born to




92           THIE WONDERS OF PO]MPEII.
him the foal of an ass. "A wine jar has been lost and
he who brings it back shall have such a reward from
Varius; but he who will bring the thief shall have
twice as much."
Again, still other inscriptions were notifications
to the public in reference to the cleanliness of the
streets, and recalling in terms still more precise the
"Commit no Nuisance" put up on the corners of
some of our streets with similar intent. On more
than one wall at Pompeii the figures of serpents,
very well painted, sufficed to prevent any impropriety,
for the serpent was a sacred symbol in ancient Rome
-strange mingling of religion in the pettiest details
of common life!  Only a very few years ago, the
Neapolitans still followed the example of their ancestors; they protected the outside walls of their
dwellings with symbolical paintings, rudely tracing,
not serpents, but crosses on them.




IV.
THIE SUBURBS.
THE CUSTrM HOUSE.-THE FORTIFICATIONS AND THE GATES.-THE ROMAN HIGHI.
WAYS.-THE CEMETERY OF POMPEII.-FUNERALS: THE PROCESSION, THE FU.
NEI4AL PYRE, THE DAY OF THE DEAD.-THE TOMBS AND THEIR INSCRIPTIONS. — PERPETUAL LEASES. —BURIAL OF THE RICH, OF ANIMALS, AND OF THE
POOpR.-THE VILLAS OF DIOMED AND CICERO.
"Ce qu'on trouve aux abords d'une grande cite,
Ce sont des abattoirs, des murs, des cimitieres;
C'est ainsi qu'en entrant dans la societ6
On trouve ses egouts."
ALFRiED DE MUSSET would  have  depicted  the suburban quarters of Pompeii exactly in these lines,
had he added to his enumeration the wine-shops and
the custom-house.  The  latter establishment was not
omitted by the ancients, and could  not be forgotten
in our diminutive but highly commercial city.  Thus,
the place has been discovered where the collector
awaited the passage of the vehicles that came in
from  the country and the neighboring villages.  Absolutely nothing else remains to be seen in this spacious mosaic-paved  hall.    Scales, steelyards, and  a




94           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
quantity of stone or metal weights were found there,
marked with inscriptions sometimes quite curious;
such, for example, as the following: Eme et habbeWis,
with a b too many, a redundancy very frequent in
the Naples dialect.  This is equivalent, in Englishl,
to: Buy and you will have. One of the sets of
scales bears an inscription stating that it had been
verified or authorized at the Capitol under such consuills and such emperors - the hand of RIome!
Besides the custom-house, this approach to the city
contained abundance of stables, coach-houses, taverns,
bath-houses, low  drinkling-shops, and other disreputable concerns. Even  the dwellings in the same
quarter have a suspicious look. You follow a long
street and you have before you the gate of IIerculaneum and the walls.
These walls are visible; they still hold firm.  Unquestionably, they could not resist our modern cannon, for if the ancients built better than we do,
we destroy better than they did; this is one thing
that must in justice be conceded to us. Nevertheless, we cannot but admire those masses of peperino,
the points of which ascend obliquely and hold to



TIHE SUBURBS.                95
gether without mortar. Originally as ancient as the
city, these ramparts were destroyed to some extent
by Sylla and repaired in opus izncerturn, that is to
say, in small stones of every shape and of various
dimensions, fitted to one another without order or
regularity in the layers, as though they had been
pnt in just as they came. The old structure dated
probably from the time of Pompeian autonomy — the
Oscans had a hand in them. The surrounding wall,
at the foot of which there were no diltches, would
have formed an oval line of nearly two miles had
it not been interrupted, on the side of the mountains and the sea, between the ports of Stabix and
of IHerculaneum.. These ramparts consisted of two
walls —the scarp and counterscarp,-between which
ran a terraced platform; the exterior wall, slightly
sloping, was defended by embrasures between which
the archer could place himself in safety, in an angle
of the stonework, so soon as he had shot his arrow.
The interior wall was also crested with battlements.
The curvilinear rampart did not present projecting
angles, the salients of which, Vitruvius tells us, could
not resist the repeated blows of the siege machinery




96           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
of those days. It was intersected by nine towers,
of three vaulted stories each, at unequal distances,
accordingly as the nature of the ground demanded
greater or less means of defence, was pierced with loopholes and was not very solid. Vitruvius would have had
them  rounded and of cut stone; those of Pompeii
are of quarried stone, and in small rough ashlars,
stuck together with mortar. The third story of each'
tower reached to the platform of the rampart, with
which it communicated by two doors.
Notwithstanding all that remains of them, the walls
of Pompeii were no longer of service at the time
of the eruption. Demolished by Sylla and then by
Augustus, shattered by the earthquake, and interrupted as 1 have said, they left the city open.
They must have served for a public promenade, like
the bastions of Geneva.
Eight gates opened around the city (perhaps there
was a ninth that has now disappeared, opening out
upon the sea). The most singular of all of them is
the Nola gate, the construction of which appears to
be very ancient. We there come across those fine
cut stones that reveal the handiwork of primitive




i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i
The Nola Gate at Pompeii.








THE SUBURBS.                 97
titaes. A head consideraly broken and defaced, surllmounting the arcade, was accompanied with an Oscan
inscription,  which, having been badly read by a
savant, led for an instant to the belief that the Campanians of the sixth century before Jesus Christ
worshipped the Egyptian Isis. The learned interpreter had read: Isis 2ropheta (I translate it into
Latin, supposing you to know as little as I do of the
Oscan tongue).  The inscription really ran, idem
probavit.
It is worth while passing through the gate to get
a look at the angle formed by the ramparts at this
one point. I doubt whether the city was ever attacked on that side. Before reaching the gate the
assailants would have had to wind along through a
narrow gallery, where the archers, posted on the walls
and armed with  arrows and stones, would ha%'o
crushed them all.
The HIerculaneum gate is less ancient, and yet more
devastated by time than the former one. The arcade
has fallen in, and it requires some attention to reinstate it. This gate formed three entrances. The two
side ways were probably intended for pedestrians;
9




98           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
the one in the middle was closed by means of a poil.
cullis sliding in a groove, still visible, but covered with
stucco. As the portcullis, in descending, would have
thrown down this coating, we must infer that at the
time of the eruption it had not been in use for a long
while, Pompeii having ceased to be a fortified place.
The IIerculaneum gate was not masked inside. so
that the archers, standing upon the terraces that covered the side entrances, could fire upon the enemy
even after the portcullis had been carried. WVe know
that one of the stratagems of the besieged consisted
in allowing the enemy to push in, and then suddenly
shutting down upon them  the formidable catcaracta
suspended by iron chains. They then slaughtered the
poor wretches indiscriminately  and covered themselves with glory.
HIaving passed the gate, we find ourselves on one
of those fine paved roads which, starting at Rome in
all directions, have everywhere left very visible traces,
and in many places still serve for traffic. The Greeks
had gracefulness, the Lomans grandeur. Nothing
shows this more strikingly than their magnificent
highways that pierce mountains, fill up ravines, level








ki'nlli~lll IIllill     IIIIH
T -                                          I i I I fill 11 -Il         VA? 11111111"All"' m:1111l1111          iiiB~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i~~~~~~ii'                               Illli~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2-1!II!                                                                                                                   li;!lll  1!IIIIII~~~~~~~~~~ —ar
The HerulaneumGate, rstored




TIIE SUBURBS.                99
the plains, cross the marshes, bestride rivers, and even
valleys, and stretched thus from the Tiber to the
Euphrates. In order to construct them they first
traced two parallel furrows, from between which they
removed  all the loose earth, which they replaced
with selected materials, strongly packed, pressed, and
pounded down. Upon this foundation (therpavimenturn) was placed a layer of rough stone (statumen),
then a filling-in of gravel and lime (the r'tads), and,
finally, a third bed of chalk, brick, lime, clay, and
sand, kneaded and pounded in together into a solid
crust. This was the nucleus. Last of all, they placed
above it those large rough blocks of lava which you
will find everywhere in the environs of Naples. As
before remarked, these roads have served for twenty
centuries, and they are good yet.
The IIerculaneum road formed a delightful promenade at the gates of Pompeii; a street lined with
trees and villas, like the Champs Elysees at Paris, and
descending from the city to the country between two
rows of jaunty monuments prettily-adorned, niches,
kiosks, and gay pavilions, from which the view was
admirable. This promenade was the cemetery of




100          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
Pompeii. But let not this intimation trouble you,
for nothing was less mournful in ancient times than a
cemetery. The ancients were not fond of death;
they even avoided pronouncing its name, and resorted
to all sorts of subterfuges to avoid the doleful word.
They spoke of the deceased as "those who had been,"
or " those who are gone." Very demonstrative, at the
first moment they would utter loud lamentations.
Their sorrow thus vented its first paroxysms. - But the
first explosion over, there remained none of that clinging melancholy or serious impression that continues in
our Christian countries. The natives of the south are
epicureans in their religious belief, as in their habits
of life. Their cemeteries were spacious avenues, and
children played jackstones on the tombs.
Would you like to hear a few details in reference
to the interments of the ancients. "The usage was
this," says Claude Guichard, a doctor at law, in his
book concerning funereal rites, printed at Lyons, in
1581, by Jean de Tournes: "WVhen the sick person
was in extreme danger, his relatives came to see him,
seated themselves on his bed, and kept him company
until the death-rattle came on and his features began




THE SUBURBS.              101
to assume the dying look. Then the nearest relative among them, all in tears, approached the pa
tient and embraced  him  closely, breast against
breast and face against face, so as to receive his soul,
and mouth to mouth, catching his last breath; which
done, he pressed together the lips and eyes of the dead
man, arranging them decently, so that the persons
present might not see the eyes of the deceased open,
for, according to their customs, it was not allowable
to the living to see the eyes of the dead.... Then
the room was opened on all sides, and they allowed
all persons belonging to the family and neighborhood, to come in, who chose. Then, three or four of
them began to bewail the deceased and call to him
repeatedly, and, perceiving that he did not reply one
word, they went out and told of the death. Then
the near relatives went to the bedside to give the last
kiss to the deceased, and handed him over to the
chambermaids of the house, if he was a person of
the lower class. If he was one of the eminent men
and heads of families, he committed him to the care
of people authorized to perform this office, to wash,
anoint, and dress him, in accordance with the cus9*




102          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
tom and what was requisite in view of the quality,
greatness, and rank of the personage."
Now there were at Rome several ministers, public
servitors, and officials, who had charge of all that
appertained to funerals, such as the libitinarii, the
designatores, and the like. All of which was wisely
instituted by Numa Pompilius, as much to teach the
Romans not to hold things relating to the dead in
horror, or fly from them as contaminating to the
person, as in order to fix in their memory that all that
has had a beginning in birth must in like manner
terminate in death, birth and death both being
under the control and power of one and the same
deity; for they deemed that Libitina was the same
as Venus, the goddess of procreation. Then, again,
the said officers had under their orders different
classes of serfs whom  they  called, in their language, the polbinctores, the sanczqplctarii, the us
tores, the cadaverumn custodes, intrusted with the
care of anointing the dead, carrying them  to the
place of  sepulture, burning  them, and watching
them. "After the polinzctores had carefully washed,
anointed, and embalmed the body, according to the




THE SUBrURBS.               103
cnstomn regarding it and the expense allowed, they
wrapped it in a white linen cloth, after the manner
of the Egyptians, and in this array placed it upon a
bed handsomely prepared as though for the most
distinguished member of the household, and then
raised in front of the latter a small dresser shaped
like an altar, upon which they placed the usual odors
and incense, to burn along with tapers and lighted
candles.... Then, if the deceased was a person
of note, they kept the body thus arranged for the
space of seven consecutive days, inside the house, and,
during that time, the near relatives, dressed in certain
long robes or very loose and roomy mantles called
ricinica, along with the chambermaids and other
women taken thither to weep, never ceased to lament and bewail, renewing their distress every time
any notable personage entered the room; and they
thoulght that all this while the deceased remained on
earth, that is to say, kept for a few days longer at
the house, while they were hastening their preparations for the pomp and magnificence of his funeral.
On the eighth day, so as to assemble the relatives.
associates, and friends of the defunct the more easily,




104          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
inform the public and call together all who wished
to be present, the procession, which they called
exequiz, was cried aloud and proclaimed with the
sound of the trumpet on all the squares and chief
places of the city by the crier of the dead, in the
followingo form:'Such a citizen has departed from
this life, and let all who wish to be present at his
obsequies know that it is time; he is now to be carried
from his dwelling.' "
Let us step aside now, for here comes a funeral
procession. Who is the deceased? Probably a consular personage, a duumvir, since lictors lead the line.
Behind them come the flute-players, the mimes and
mountebanks, the trumpeters, the tambourine-players,
and the weepers (prceyfiicct), paid for uttering cries,
tearing their hair,, singing notes of lamentation,
extolling the dead man, mimicking despair, "and
teaching the chambermaids how to best express their
grief, since the funeral must not pass without weeping
and wailing."  All this makes up a melancholy but
burlesque din, which attracts the crowd and swells the
procession, to the great honor of the defunct. Afterward come the magistrates, the decurions in mourn



THE SUBURBS.              105
ing robes, the bier ornamented with ivory. The
dnumvir Lucius Labeo (he is the person whom they
are burying) is " laid out at full lengthb and dressed in
white shrouds and rich coverings of purple, his head
raised slightly and surrounded with a handsome coronet, if he merit it."  Among the slaves who carry the
bier walks a man whose head is covered with white
wool, "or with a cap, in sign of liberty."  That is the
freedman Mhenomachus, who has grown rich, and who
is conducting the mourning for his master. Then
come unoccupied beds, "couches fitted up with the
same draperies as that on which reposes the body of
the defunct" (it is written that Sylla had six thousand of these at his funeral), then the long line of
wax images of ancestors (thus the dead of old interred
the newly dead), then the relatives, clad in mourning,
the friends, citizens, and townsfolk generally in
crowds. The throng is all the greater when the
deceased is the more honored. Lastly, other trumpeters, and other pantomimists and tumblers, dancing,
grimacing, gambolling, and mimicking the duumvir
whom they are helping to bury, close the procession.
This interminable multitude passes out into the Street
of Tombs by the Herculaneum gate.




106         TilE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
The ustrintm, or room;n which they are going
to burn the body, is open. You are acquainted with
this Roman custom. According to some, it was a
means of hastening the extrication of the soul from
the body and its liberation from the bonds of matter,
or its fusion in the great totality of things; according
to others, it was but a measure in behalf of public
health. IIowever that may be, dead bodies migTht be
either buried or burned, provided the deposit of the
corpse or the ashes were made outside of the city. A
part of the procession enters the ustrinzqn. Then
they are going to burn the duumvir Lucius Labeo.
The funeral pyre is made of firs, vine branches, and
other wood that burns easily. The near relatives and
the freedman take the bier and place it conveniently
on the pile, and then the man who closes the eyes
of the dead opens them again,  making the defunct
look up toward the sky, and gives him the last kiss.
Then they cover the pile with perfumes and essences,
and collect about it all the articles of furniture,
garments, and precious objects that they want to
burn. The trumpets sound, and the freedman, taking
a torch and turning away his eyes, sets fire to the




THE SUBeURBS.              107
framework. Then commence the sacrifices to the
manes, the formalities, the pantomimic action, the
howlings of the mourners, the combats of the gladiators "in order to satisfy the ceremony closely observed by them  which required that human blood
should be shed before the lighted pile;" this was
done so effectually that when there were no gladiators
the women "tore each other's hair, scratched their
eyes and their cheeks with their nails, heartily, until
the blood came, thinking in this manner to appease
and propitiate the infernal deities, whom they suppose to be angered against the soul of the defunct,
so as to treat it roughly, were this doleful ceremony
omitted and disdained."... The bdccly burned,
the mother, wife, or other near relative of the dead,
wrapped and clad in a black garment, got ready to
gather up the relics — that is to say, the bones which
remained and had not been totally consumed by the
fire; and, before doing anything, involed the deity
manes, and the soul of the dead man, beseeching him
to take this devotion in good part, and not to think ill
of this service. Then, after having washed her hands
well, and having extinguished the fire in the braziel




108          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
with wine or with milk, she began to pick out the bones
among the ashes and to gather them into her bosom
or the folds of her robe. The children also gathered
them, and so did the heirs; and we find that the
priests who were present at the obsequies could help
in this. But if it was some very great lord, the
most eminent magistrates of the city, all iIl silk,
ungirdled and barefooted, and their hands washed,
as we have said, performed this office themselves.
Then they put these relics in urns of earthenware,
or glass, or stone, or metal; they besprinkled them with
oil or other liquid extracts; they threw into the urn,
sometimes, a piece of coin, which sundry antiquaries
have thought was the obolus of Charon, forgetting
that the body, being burned, no longer had a hand to
hold it out; and, finally, the urn was placed in a
niche or on a bench arranged in the interior of the
tomb.  On the ninth day, the family came back to
banquet near the defunct, and thrice bade him adieu:
Vale! VtCle! Vale! then adding, "[ May the earth rest
lightly on thee!"
I-Iereupon, the  next care was the  monument.
That of the duumvir Labeo, which is very ugly, in




THE SUBURBS.              109
opus incertum, covered with stucco and adorned with
bas-reliefs and portraits of doubtful taste, was built
at the expense of his freedman, Menomachus. The
ceremony completed and vanity satisfied, the dead
was forgotten; there was no more thought, excepting
for the ferales and lemurales, celebrations now retained by the Catholics, who still make a trip to the
cemetery on the Day of the Dead. The Street of the
Tombs, saddened for a moment, resumed its look of
unconcern and gaiety, and children once more played
about among the sepulchres.
There are monuments of all kinds in this suburban
avenue of Pompeii. Many of them are simple pillars
in the form of I-Iermes-heads. There is one in quite
good preservation that was closed with a marble
door; the interior, pierced with one window, still
had in a niche an alabaster vase containing some
bones. Another, upon a plat of ground donated by
the city, was erected by a priestess of Ceres to her
husband, I-I. Alleius Luceius Sibella, aedile, duumvir,
and five years' prefect, and to her son, a decurion of
Pompeii, deceased at the age of seventeen. A decurion at seventeen! -there was a youth who made his
10




110          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
way rapidly. Cicero said that it was easier to be a
Senator at Rome than a decurion at Pompeii. The
tomb is handsome - very elegant, indeed - but it contained neither urns, nor sarcophagi; it probably was
not a place of burial, but a simple cenotaph, an
honorary monument.
The same may be said of the handsomest mausoleum on the street, that of the augustal Calventius:
a marble altar gracefully decorated with arabesques
and reliefs (CEdipus meditating, Theseus reposing,
and a young girl lighting a funeral pile). Upon the
tomb are still carved the insignia of honor belonging to Calventius, the oaken crowns, the bisellium (a
bench with seats for two), the stool, and the three
letters 0. C. S. (o1 civuzm  servcttum), indicating that
to the illustrious dead was due the safety of a citizen
of Rome. The Street of the Tombs, it will be seen,
was a sort of Pantheon. An inscription discovered
there and often repeated (that which, under Charles
III., was the first that revealed the existence of Pompeii), informs us that, upon the order of Vespasian,
the tribune Suedius Clemens had yielded to the
commune of Pompeii the places occupied by the




TIlE S uBIstBS.            111
private individuals, which meant that the notables
only, authorized by the decurions, had the right to
sleep their last slumber in this triumphal avenue,
while the others had to be dispossessed.  Still the
hand of Rome!
Another monument -the one attributed to Scaurus
— was very curious, owing to the gladiatorial scenes
carved on it, and which, according to custom, represented real combats. Each figure was surmounted
with an inscription indicating the name of the gladiator and the number of his victories.  We know,
already, that these sanguinary games formed part
of the funeral ceremonies. The heirs of the deceased made the show for the gratification of the
populace, either around the tombs or in the amphitheatre, whither we shall go at the close of our stroll,
and where we shall describe the carvings on the
pretended monument of Scaurus.
The tomb of Nevoleia Tyche, much too highly
decorated, encrusted with arabesques and reliefs representing the portrait of that lady, a sacrifice, a ship (a
symbol of life, say the sentimental antiquaries), is
covered with a curious inscription, which I translate
literally.




112         THE  ONIDERS OF POMPEII.
"Nevoleia Tyche, freedwoman of Julia, for herself
and for Caius [Mlunatins Faustus, knight and mayor of
the suburb, to whom the decurions, with the consent
of the people, had awarded the honor of the biselliunz.
This monument has been offered during her lifetime
by Nevoleia Tyche to her freedmen and to those of
C. Miunatius Faustus."
Assuredly, after reading this inscription, we cannot
reproach the fair Pompeians with concealing their
affections from the public. Nevoleia certainly was
not the wife of Munatius; nevertheless, she loved him
well, since she made a trusting with him even in the
tomb. It was Queen Caroline Murat who, accompanlied by Canova, was the first to penetrate to the
inside of this dovecote (January 14, 1813). There
were opened in her presence several glass urns with
leaden cases, on the bottom of which still floated some
ashes in a liquid not yet dried up, a mixture of water,
wine, and oil. Other urns contained only some bones
and the small coin which has been taken for Charon's
obolus.
I have many other tombs left to mention. There
are three, which are sarcophagi, still complete, never




THE SUBURBS.              113
open, and proving that the ancients buried their dead
even before Christianity prohibited the use of the
funeral pyre. Families had their choice between
the two systems, and burned neither men who. had
been struck by lightning (they thought the bodies of
such to be incorruptible), nor new-born infants who
had not yet cut their teeth. Thus it was that the
remains of Diomed's youngest children could not be
found, while those of the elder ones were preserved
in a glass urn contained in a vase of lead.
A tomb that looks like a sentrylbox, and stands
as though on duty in front of the IIerculaneum
gate, had, during the eruption, been the refuge of a
soldier, whose skeleton was found in it. Another
strangely-decorated monument forms a covered hemicycle turned toward the south, fronting the sea, as
though to offer a shelter for the fatigued and heated
passers-by. Another, of rounded shape, presents inside
a vault bestrewn with small flowers and decorated
with bas-reliefs, one of which represents a female
laying a fillet on the bones of her child. Other
monuments are adorned with garlands. One of the
least curious contained the magnificent blue and white
10*




114          TIHE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
glass vase of which I shall have to speak further on
That of the priestess Mamia, ornamented with a
superb inscription, forms a large circular bench terminating in a lion's claw. Visitors are fond of resting
there to look out upon the landscape and the sea. Let
us not forget the funereal triclinium, a simply-decorated dining-hall, where still are seen three beds of masonry, used at the banquets given in honor of the dead.
These feasts, at which nothing was eaten but shell-fish
(poor fare, remarks Juvenal), were. celebrated nine
days after the death. IHence came their title, novendialia. They were also called s8'icernia; and the
guests conversed at them about the exploits and
benevolent deeds of the man who had ceased to live.
Polybius boasts greatly of these last honors paid to
illustrious citizens. Thence it was, he says, that
Roman greatness took its rise.
In fact, even at Pompeii, in this humble camnpo
santo of the little city, we see at every step virtuo
rewarded after death by some munificent act of the
decurions. Sometimes it is a perpetual grant (a favor
difficult to obtain), indicated by the following letters:
HI. M. TI. N. S. (lhoc mQnumentum  hceredes non




THE SUBURBS.                115
sequitur), insuring to them the perpetual possession of
their sepulchre, which could not be disposed of by their
heirs. Sometimes the space conceded was indicated
upon the tomb. For instance, we read in the sepulchre of the family of Nistacidius: "A. Nistacidius
tIelenus, mayor of the suburb Augusto-Felix.  To
iNistacidius Januarius and to Mesionia Satulla. Fifteen feet in depth, fifteen feet in frontage."
This bench of the priestess SIamia and that of
Aulus Vetius (a military tribune and duumvir dispensing justice) were in like manner constructed, with
the consent of the people, upon the lands conceded
by the decurions. In fine —and this is the most singular feature - animals had their monuments. This,
at least, is what the guides will tell you, as they point
out a large tomb in a street of the suburbs. They call
it the sepolcro dei.bestiani, because the skeletons of
bulls were found in it. The antiquaries rebel against
this opinion. Some, upon the strength of the carved
masks, affirm that it was a burial place for actors;
others, observing that the inclosure walls shut in quite
a spacious temple, intimate that it was a cemetery for
priests. For my party I have nothing to offer against




116          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
the opinion of the guides. The Egyptians, whose gods
R0ome adopted, interred the bull Apis magnificently.
Animals might, therefore, find burial in the noble
suburb of Pompeii. As for the lower classes, they
slept their final sleep where they could; perhaps in
the common burial pit (commuzne sepulcrwnm), anl
ancient barbarism  that has been kept up until our
times; perhaps in those public burial ranges where
one could purchase a simple niche (ola) for his urn.
These niches were sometimes humble and touching
presents interchanged by poor people.
And in this street, where death is so gay, so vain,
so richly adorned, where the monuments arose amid
the foliage of trees perennially green, which they had
endeavored, but without success, to render serious and
sombre, where the mausolea are pavilions and diningrooms, in which the inscriptions recall whole narratives
of life and even love affairs, there stood spacious inns
and sumptuous villas -for instance, those of Arrius
Diomed and Cicero. This Arrius Diomed was one
of the freedmen of Julia, and the mayor of the
suburb. A rich citizen, but with a bad heart, he left
his wife and children to perish in his cellar, and fled




TH E SIUBIJRBS.             117
alone with one slave only, and all the silver that he could
carry away. He perished in front of his garden gate.
May the earth press heavily upon him!
Ilis villa, which consisted of three stories, not placecd
one above the other, but descending in terraces from
the top of the hill, deserves a visit or two. You will
there see a pretty court surrounded with columns and
small rooms, one of which - of an elliptical shape and
opening on a garden, and lighted by the evening
twilight, but shielded from the sun by windows and
by curtains, the glass panes and rings of which have
been found  is the pleasantest nook cleared out among
these ruins. You will also be shown the baths, the
saloons, the bedchambers, the garden, a host of small
apartments brilliantly decorated, basins of marble, and
the cellar still intact, with amphora,, inside of which
were still a few  drops of wine not yet dried up,
the place where lay the poor suffocated family —
seventeen skeletons surprised there together by death.
The fine ashes that stifled them having hardened With
time, retain the print of a young girl's bosom. It was
this strange mould, which is now kept at the museum,
that inspired the Arria lfarcella of Theophile Gau



118          TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
tier-that authorts masterpiece, perhaps, but at all
events a masterpiece.
As for Cicero, get them to show you his villa, if you
choose. You will see absolutely nothing there, and it
has been filled up again. Fine paintings were found
there previously, along with superb mosaics and a rich
collection of precious articles; but I shall not copy the
inventory. WVas it really the house of Cicero? WVho
can say? Antiquaries will have it so, and so be it,
then! I do not deny that Cicero had a country
property at Pompeii, for lie often mentions it in his
letters; but where it was, exactly, no one can demonstrate. IHe could have descried it from Baime or Mlisenum, he somewhere writes, had he possessed longer
vision; but in such case he could also have seen the
entire side of Pompeii that looks toward the sea.
Therefore, I put aside these useless discussions and
resume our methodical tour.
I have shown yo-t the ancients in their public life;
at the Forum and in the street, in the temples and in
the wine-shops, on the public promenade and in the
cemeteries. I shall now endeavor to come upon them




THE SUBURBS.                119
in their private life, and, for this end, to peep at them
first in a place which was a sort of intermediate point
between the street and the house. I mean the hot
baths, or thermae.




V.
TIIE T H ERM.
THE HOT BATHS AT ROME. -THE THERMAE OF STABIA. -A TILT AT SUN DIALS.
-A COMPLETE BATH, AS THE ANCIENTS CONSIDERED IT; THE APARTMENTS,
THE SLAVES, THE UNGUENTS, THE STRIGILLA. — A SAYING OF THE EMPEROR
HADRIAN. -THE BATHS FOR WOMEN. —THE READING ROOM. -THE ROMAN
NEWSPAPER. -THE HEATING APPARATUS.
THIE  Romans  were  almost  amphibious.   They
bathed themselves as often as seven times per diem;
and young people of style passed a portion of the day,
and often a part of the night, in the warm  baths.
IIence the importance which these establishments
assumed in ancient times. There were eight hundred
and fifty-six public baths at Rome, in the reign of
Augustus.  Three thousand  bathers could assemble
in the thermse of Caracalla, which had sixteen hundred seats of marble or of porphyry. The thermea
of Septimius Severus, situated in a park, covered
a space of one hundred thousand square feet, and
(120)




THE THERMIE.               121
comprised rooms of all kinds: gymnasia, academic
halls where poets read their verses aloud, arenas for
gladiators, and even theatres. Let us not forget that
the Bull and the Farnese HIercules, now so greatly
admired at Naples, and the masterpieces of the
Vatican, the Torso at the Belvidere, and the Laocoon
were found at the baths.
These immense palatial structures were accessible to
everybody. The price of admission was a guadrans,
and the uadcranzs was the fourth part of an as; the
latter, in Cicero's time, was worth about one cent and
two mills. Even this charge was afterward abolished.
At daybreak, the sound of a bell announced the
opening of the baths. The rich went there particularly between the middle of the day and sunset; the
dissipated went after supper, in defiance of the prescribed rules of health. I learn from Juvenal, however, that they sometimes died- of it. Nevertheless,
Nero remained at table from noon until midnight,
after which he took warm baths in winter and snow
baths in summer.
In the earlier times of the republic there was a
difference of hours for the two sexes. The therma
11




122         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
were monopolized alternately by the men and the
women, who never met there. Mcdesty w:as carried
so far that the son would not bathe with his father,
nor even with his father-in-law. At a later period,
men and women, children and old folks, bathed pellmell together at the public baths, until the Emperor
HIadrian, recognizing the abuse, suppressed it.
Pompeii, or at least that portion of Pompeii which
has been exhumed, had two public bathing establishments. The most important of these, namely, the
Stabian baths, was very spacious, and contained all
sorts of apartments, side rooms; round and square
basins, small ovens, galleries, porticoes, etc., without
counting a space for bodily exercises (palcestra)
where the young Pompeians went through their gymnastics. This, it will be seen, was a complete watercure establishment.
The most curious thing dug up out of these ruins
is a Berosian sun-dial marked with an Oscan inscription announcing that N. Atinius, son of Marius the
qullstor, had caused it to be executed, by order of
the decurions, with the funds resulting from the
public fines. Sun-dials were no rarity at Pompeii.




THE THERME.               123
They existed there in every shape and of every price;
among them was one elevated upon an Ionic column of
cipollino marble. These primitive time-pieces were
frequently offered by the Roman magistrates for the
adornment of the monuments, a fact that greatly
displeased a certain parasite whom Plautus describes:
" May the gods exterminate the man who first invented the hours!" he exclaims, "who first placed a
sun-dial in this city! the traitor who has cut the day
in pieces for my ill-luck! In my childhood there was
no other time-piece than the stomach; and that is the
best of them all, the most accurate in giving notice,
unless, indeed, there be nothing to eat. But, nowadays, although the side-board be full, nothing is served
up until it shall please the sun. Thus, since the town
has become full of sun-dials, you see nearly everybody
crawling about, half starved and emaciated."
The other thermre of Pompeii are much smaller, but
better adorned, and, above all, in better preservation.
Would you like to take a full bath there in the
antique style? You enter now by a small door in the
rear, and traverse a corridor where five hundred lamps
were found —a striking proof that the Pompeians




124          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
passed at least a portion of the night at the baths.
This corridor conducts you to the apodyteres or spolicator.iuzm, the place where the bathers undress. At first
blush you are rather startled at the idea of taking off
your clothes in an apartment with six doors, but the
ancients, who were better seasoned than we are, were
not afraid of currents of air. While a slave takes
your clothing and your sandals, and another, the
ccapsarius, relieves you of your jewels, which he will
deposit in a neighboring office, look at the apartment; the cornice ornamented with lyres and griffins,
above which are ranges of lamps; the arched ceiling
forming a semicircle divided off in white panels edged
with red, and the white mosaic of the pavement
bordered with black. Here are stone benches to sit
down upon, and pins fixed in the walls, where the
slave hangs up your white woollen toga and sour
tunic. Above there is a skylight formed of a single
very thick pane of glass, and, firmly inclosed within
an iron frame, which turns upon two pivots. The glass
is roughened on one side to prevent inquisitive people
from peeping into the hall where we are. On each
side of the window some reliefs, now greatly damaged,
represent combats of giants.




THE THERME.               125
Here you are, as nude as an antique statue.
Were you a true Roman, you would now step into
an adjoining cabinet which was the anointing place
(ett/ewsizum), where the anointing with oil was done,
and, after that, you will go and play tennis in the
court, which was reached by a corridor now walled
up. The blue vault was studded with golden stars.
But you are not a true Roman; you have come
hither simply to take a hot or a cold bath. If a cold
one, pass on into the small room that opens at the
end of the hall. It is the frigidariuMn.
This frigidarium  or acatatio is a circular room,
which strikes you at the outset by its excellent state
of preservation. In the middle of it is hollowed out
a spacious round basin of white marble, four yards
and a half in diameter by about four feet in depth;
it might serve to-day-nothing is wanting but the
water, says Overbeck. An inside circular series of
steps enabled the Poinpeians to bathe in a sitting
posture. Four niches, prepared at the places where
the angles would be if the apartment were square,
contained benches where the bathers rested. The
walls were painted yellow and adorned with green
*      ~~11*




126          TI-IE wo0NDEr  OF POMPEII.
branches. The frieze and pediment were red and
decorated with white bas-reliefs. The vault, which
was blue and open overhead, was in the shape of a
truncated cone. It was clear, brilliant, and gay, like
the antique life itself.
Do you prefer a warm  bath??  Retrace your steps
and, from the acoodyteros, where you left your clothing, pass into the tepidariuin. This hall, which is
the richest of the bathing establishment, is paved
in white mosaic with black borders, the vault richly
9rnanmented  with  stucature and  white paintings
standing forth from  a red and blue background.
These reliefs in stucco represent cupids, chimeras,
dolphins, does pursued by lions, etc. The red walls
are adorned with closets, perhaps intended for the
linen of the bathers, over which jutted a cornice
supported by Atlases or Telamons in baked clay
covered with stucco. A pretty border frame formed,
t.f arabesques separates the cornice from the
tault. A large window at the extremity flanked by
two figures in stucco lighted up the tepidarium,
wvhile subterranean conduits and a large brazier of
bronze retained for it that lukewarm  (tepica) tem.
perature which gave it the peculiar name.




~~:'1~*il~:~-l;
 i ~::":jj — ::-::~:;~:::`::~:-t~;~:;;~:
Filbl j:;:e:z:~
nL ":::1iii
:;-~:~i.i;~:,:5-:::~:::::-:~::: i:~
jii
:3: 9BI

" e::
iiYi
d~i
e
 PS te
rrsn sr
1:
::jI
I8sss Fi b:
t"
*x
II
B:: r": r f: a
i
Tc+
" I a
I ;it
j *c
F*F; g,
w
*C
V-;
a,,, u ni. f:"~4 Ia:fCP
i-i t I j
~2~.1 s
x~ rS :,:i:r~*;t~~~iiu~   i':83 &:.i
"~~:~~.:i
t
~" 1,.:~a::XA:~ te:::::i :::: i: t?
rl d
-:i-;IT.:~;E~~~-;)\~rg  iI b~
53 ~j' r-~g *1
Bt"i*
~:P~:.:Q::""ist:i:.0
r.a,i.::;L~:;?i^r~` ~~c'
a _:i:ii

~t;,,i ~
p-
C








THE THERMA.               127
This bronze brazier is still in existence, along with
three benches of the same metal found in the same
place; an inscription —Jr.  Tigidius Vacculca P. S.
(pecunia' s'ua) —designates to us the donor who punning on his own name Vacculac, had caused a little
cow to be carved upon the brazier; and on the
feet of the benches, the hoofs of that quiet animal.
The bottom of this precious heater formed a huge
grating with bars of bronze, upon which bricks
were laid; upon these bricks extended a layer of
pumice-stones, and upon the pumice-stones the lighted coals.
What, then, was the use to which this handsome
tepidarium was applied? Its uses were manifold,
as you will learn farther on, but, for the moment,
it is to prepare you, by a gentle warmth, for the temperature of. the stove that you are going to enter
through a door which closed of itself by its own
weight, as the shape of the hinges indicates.
This caldarium  is a long room  at the ends of
which rises, on one side, something like the parapet
of a well, and on the other a square basin. The
middle of the room is the stove, properly speaking.




128          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
~The steam  did not circulate in pipes, but exhaled
from the wall itself and from the hollow ceiling in
warm  emanations.  The adornments of the walls
consisted of simple flutings.  The  square  basin
(alveuzs or baptisterium) which served for the warm
baths was of marble. It was ascended by three
steps and descended on the inside by an interior
bench upon which ten bathers could sit together.
Finally, on the other side of the room, in a semicircular niche, rose the well parapet of wlich  I
spoke; it was a lacbrum, constructed with the public
funds. An inscription informs us that it cost seven
hundred and fifty sestertii, that is to say, something
over thirty dollars. Yet this labrum -is a large marble vessel seven feet in diameter.  Marble has
grown dearer since then.
On quitting the. stove, or warm  bath, the Pompeians wet their- heads in that large wash-basin,
where tepid water which mnust,. at that moment,
have seemed cold, leaped from a bronze pipe still
visible. Others still more courageous plunged into
the icy water of the frigidarium, and came out
of it, they said, stronger and more supple in their
limbs. I prefer believing them to imitating them.




TIIHE TIERt.ZLE.          129
HIave you had enough of it? Would you leave
the heating room? You belong to the slaves who
are waiting for you, and will not lot you go. You
are streaming with perspiration, and the tractator,
armed with a strifgilla, or flesh brush, is there to
rasp your body.  You escape to the tepidarium;
but it is there that the most cruel operations await
you. You belong, as I remarked, to the slaves;
one of them  cuts your nails, another plucls out
your stray hair, and a third still seeks to press
your body and rasp the skin with his brush, a
fourth prepares the most fearful frictions yet to
ensue, while others deluge you with oils and essences, and grease you with perfumed unguents.
Youl asked just now what was the use of the tepidariumn; you now know, for you have been made
acquainted with the Roman baths.
A word in reference to the unguents with which
yon have just been rubbed.  They were of all
kinds; you have seen the shops where they were
sold. They were perfumed with myrrh, spikenard,
and cinnamon; there was the Egyptian unguent for
thle feet and legs, the Phlenician for the cheeks




130          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
and the breast, and the Sisymbrian for the two
arms; the essence of marjorum  for the eyebrows
and the hair, and that of wild thyme for the nape
of the neck and the keees. These unguents were
very dear, but they kept up youth and health.
"flow have you managed to preserve yourself so
long and so well? " asked Augustus of Pollio.
"With wine inside, and oil outside, " responded
the old man.
As for the utensils of the baths (a collection of them
is still preserved at the NTaples museum on an iron
ring), they consisted first of the strigilla, then of the
little bottle or vial of oil, and a sort of stove called the
scccphiumn. All these, along with the slippers, the
apron, and the purse, composed the baggage that one
took with him to the baths.
The most curious of these instruments -was the
strigilla or scraper, bent like a sickle and hollowed
in a sort of channel. With this the slave curried the
bather's body. The poor people of that country who
bathed in the time of the Romans - they have not
kept up the custom - and who had no strigillarii at
their service, rubbed themselves against the wall.




TIIE THIERMI.              131
One day the Emperor IIadrian seeing one of his veterans thus engaged, gave him  money and slaves to
strigillate him. A few days afterward, the Emperor,
going to the baths, saw a throng of paupers who,
whenever they caught sight of him, began to rub
vigorously against the wall. I-e merely said: " Rub
yourselves against each other!"
There were other apartments adjoining those that
I have designated, and very similar to them, only
simpler and not so well furnished. These modest
baths served for the slaves, think some, and for the
women, according to others. The latter opinion I
think, lacks gallantry. In front of this edifice, at the
principal entrance of the baths, opened a tennis-court,
surrounded with columns and flanked by a crypt and
a saloon. Many inscriptions covered the walls, among
others the announcement of a show with a hunt,
awnings, and sprinklings of perfumed water. It was
there that the Pompeians assembled to hear the news
concerning the public shows and the rumors of the
day. There they could read the dispatches from Rome.
This is no anachronism, good reader, for newspapers
were known to the ancients - see Leclerc's book



132          TIIE VONDERS OF POMPEII.
and they were called the diurnes or daily doinqs of
the roman people; diurnals and journals are two
words belonging to the same family. Those ancient
newspapers were as good in their way as our own.
They told about actors who were hissed; about funcral ceremonies; of a rain of milk and blood that fell
during the consulate of.I. Acilius and C. Porcius;
of a sea-serpent - but no, the sea-serpent is modern.
Odd facts like the following could be read in them.
This took place twenty eight years after Jesus Christ,
and must have come to the Pompeians assembled in
the baths: "When Titus Sabinus was condemned,
with his slaves, for having been the friend of Germanicus, the dog of the former could not be got
away from the spot, but accompanied the prisoner to
the place of execution, uttering the most doleful howls
in the presence of a crowd of people. Some one
threw him a piece of bread and he carried it to his
master's lips, and when the corpse was tossed into the
Tiber, the docg dashed after it, and strove to keep it
on the surface, so that people came from all directions
to admire the animal's devotion."
We are nowhere informed that the Romnan journals




TIlE TIIERIEA.              1385
wvere subjected to government stamp and security for
good behavior, but they were no more free than those
of France. IIere is an anecdote reported by Dion or
that subject:
"It is well known," lIe says, "that an artist restored a large portico at Rome whichl was threatening to fall, first by strengthening its foundations
at all points, so that it could not be displaced. IIe
then lined the walls with sheep's fleeces and thick
mattresses, and, after having attached ropes to the
entire edifice, he succeeded, by dint of manual force
and the use of capstans, in giving it its former position. But Tiberius, through jealousy, would not
allow  the name of this artist to appear in  the
Iewspapers."
Now that you have been told a little concerning
the ways of the Roman people, you may quit the
Thermsx, but not without casting a glance at the
heating apparatus visible in a small adjacent court.
This you approach by a long  corridor, from  the
cpocdyterca.  There you find the klypocaust, a spa.
cious round  fireplace which transmitted warm  air
through lower conduits to the stove, and heated the
12




134          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
two boilers built into the masonry and supplied
fromn a reservoir. From this reservoir the water fell
cold into the first boiler, which sent it lukewarm
into the second, and the latter, being closer to the
fire, gave it forth  at a baoiling temperature.  A
conduit carried the hot water of the second boiler
to the square basin of the calidarium and another
conveyed the tepid water of the first boiler to the
large receptacle of the labrum. In the fire-place
was found a quantity of rosin which the Pompeians
used in kindling their fires. Sucl were the Ther.
mm of a small Roman city.




VI.
TTIE DWELLINGS.
PARATUS AND PANSA.-THE ATRIUM AND THE PERISTYLE.-THE DWELLING REFURNISHED AND REPEOPLED.-THE SLAVES, THE KITCHEN, AND THE TABLE.THE MORNING OCCUPATIONS OF A PONIPEIAN.-THE TOILET OF A POMPEIAN
LADY.-A CITIZEN SUPPER: THE COURSES, THE GUESTS.-THE HOMES OF THI
POOR, AND THE PALACES OF ROME.
IN  order, now, to study the home of antique times,
we have but to cross the street of the baths obliquely.  We thus reach  the dwelling of the  edile
Pansa.   IIe, at least, is the proprietor designated
by general opinion, which, according  to  my  ideas,
is wrong in this particular. An inscription painted
on the door-post has given rise to this error.  The
inscription  runs  thus:  Pansam   cvdilemn  Paratus
rogat.  This the  early antiquarians translated: Paratus invokes Pansa the  cldile.  The early antiquaries erred.  They should have rendered it: Paratus
deemands Pcansa for cecdile.  It was not an  invocation but an electoral nomination.  We have already
(135)




13 6         TILE WONDEIPS OF POMPEII.
deciphered  many like inscriptions.  Universal suffrage put itself forward among the ancients as it
does with us.
IIence, the dwelling that I am about to enter
was not that of Pansa, whose name is found thus
suggested for the oedi]eship in many other places,
but rather that of Paratus, who, in order to desiguate the candidate of his choice, wrote the name
on his door-post.
Such is my opinion, but, as one runs the risk of
muddling  everything  by changing names already
accepted, I do not insist upon it. So let us enter
the house of Pansa the Tedile.
This dwelling is not the most ornate, but it is
the most regular in Pompeii, and also the least complicated and the most simply complete.  Thus, all
the guides point it out as the model house, and perceiving that they are right in so doing, I will imitate them.
In what did a Pompeian's dwelling differ from
a small stylish residence or -villa of modern times?
In a thousand and one points which we shall discover, step by step, but chiefly in this, that it was




TIIE DWELLINGS.               137
turned inwards, or, as it we-e, doubled upon itself;
not that it was, as has been said, altogether a
stra(,nger to the street, and presented to the latter
only a large painted wall, a sort of lofty screen.
Thlle upper stories of the Pompeian houses having
ilearly all crumbled, we are not in a position to
affirm that they did not have windows opening on
the public streets. I have already shown you mwniactc  or suspended balconies from  which the pretty
girls of the place could ogle the passers-by. But
it is ce;tain that the first floor, consisting of the
finest and  best occupied  apartments, grouped  its
rooms around two interior courts and turned their
backs to the street.  IHence, these two courts opening  one  behind  the other, the  development of
the front was but a small affair compared with the
depth of the house.
These courts were  called  the ctriulm  and the
peristyle.  One might say that the atrium was the
public and  the peristyle the private part of the
establishment; that the former belonged to the world
and the second to the family.  This arrangement
nearly corresponded with the division of the Greelk
12'




138         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
dwelling into andronitis and gynaikotis, the side
for the men and the side for the women. Around
the atritmn were usually ranged —we must not be
too rigorously precise in these distinctions -the
rooms intended for the people of the house, and
those who called upon them. Around the peristyle
were the rooms reserved for the private occupancy
of the family.
I commence with  the atrium. It was reached
from the street by a narrow alley (the prothyrumn),
opening, by a two-leaved door, upon the sidewalk.
Tile doors have been burned, but we can picture them
to ourselves according to the paintings, as being of
oak, with narrow panels adorned with gilded nails,
provided with a ring to open them by, and surmounted
with a small window lighting up the alley. They
opened inwards, and were secured by means of a bolt,
which shot vertically downward into the threshold
instead of reaching across.
I enter right foot foremost, according to the Roman
custom (to enter with the left foot was a bad omen);
and I first salute the inscription on the threshold
(salve) which bids me welcome. The porter's lodge




fill,
i/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ml,'The Atrium in the House of Pansa, restored.








THE DWELLINGS.               139
(cella ostiarii) was usually hollowed out in the entryway, and the slave in question was sometimes chained,
a precaution which held him at his post, undoubtedly,
but which hindered him  from  pursuing  robbers.
Sometimes, there was only a dog on guard, in his
place, or merely the representation of a dog in mosaic:
there is one in excellent preservation at the hMuseum
in Naples retaining  the famous inscription (Cave
canem) —"i Beware of the dog! "
The atrium was not altogether a court, but rather
a large hall covered with a roof, in the middle of
which opened a large bay window. Thus the air and
the light spread freely throughout the spacious room,
and the rain fell from  the sky or dripped down
over the four sloping roofs into a marble basin, called
implzuviutm, that conveyed it to the cistern, the mouth
of which is still visible. The roofs usually rested on
large cross-beams fixed in the walls. In such case,
the atrium was Tuscan, in the old fashion. Sometimes, the roofs rested on columns planted at the four
corners of the impluvium: then, the opening enlarged, and the atrium became a tetrastyle. Some
authors mention still other kinds of atra - the Co



140           ThIE WON'DERS OF POMIPEII.
rinthian,  which was richly decorated; the dip7uvidatum,
where the roof, instead of sloping inward, sloped
outward and threw off the rain-water into the street;
the testudclncatum, in which the roof looked like an
immense tortoise-shell, etc. 3But these forms of roofs,
especially the last mentioned, were  rare, and the
Tuscan atrium was almost everywhere predominant,
as we find it on Pansa's house.
Place yourself at the end of the alley, with your
back toward the street, and you comlmand a view of
this little court and its dependencies. It is needless
to say that the roof has disappeared: the eruption
consumed the beams, the tiles have been broken by
falling, and not only the tiles but the antefixes, cut in
palm-leaves or in lion's heads, which spouted the water
into the impluvium. Nothing remains but the basin
and the partition walls which marked the subdivisions of the ground-floor.  One first discovers a room
of considerable size at the end, between a smaller
room  and a corridor, and eight other side cabinets.
Of these eight cabinets, the six that come first, three
to the right and three to the left, were bedrooms,
or cuZicetda. WVhat first strikes the observer is their




TIIE DWELLINGS.              141
diminutive size. There was room only for the bed,
which  was frequently indicated by an elevation of
the masonry, and on that mattresses or sheepskins
were stretched. The bedsteads often were also of
bronze or wood, quite like those or our time. These
Oubicula received the air and the light through the
door, which the Pompcians probably left open in
sumnmer.
Next to the cubicula came laterally the alae,'the
wings, in which Pansa (if not Paratus) received his
visitors in the morning - friends, clients, parasites.
These rooms must have been rich, paved, as they were,
with lozen.ges of marble and surrounded with seats
or divans. The large  room  at the end was the
tablintznm, which separated, or rather connected, the
two courts and ascended by two steps to the peristyle.
In this tablinum, vwhich was a show-room or parlor,
were kept the archives of the family, and the imanginzes
mc(jorumn, or images of ancestors, which were wax
figures extolled in grand inscriptions, stood there in
rows. You have observed that they were conducted with
great pomp in tlle funeral processions. The RIomans
did not despise tllese exhibitions of vanity. They




142          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPLII.
clung all the more tenaciously to their ancestry as they
became more and more separated from them by the
lapse of ages and the decay of old manners and customs.
To the left of the tablinum  opened the library,
twhere were found some volumes, unfortunately almost
destroyed; and off to the riglht of the tablinum  ran
the fauces, a narrow corridor leading to the peristyle.
Thus, a show-room, two reception rooms, a library,
six bedchlambers for slaves or for guests, and all
these ranged alound a hall lighted  from  above,
paved in white mosaic with black edging between
and adorned with a marble basin, - such is the atrium of Pansa.
I am now going to pass beyond into the fauces.
An apartment opens upon this corridor and serves as a
pendant to the library; it is a bedroom, as a recess
left in the thickness of the wall for the bedstead
indicates. A step more and I reach the peristyle.
The peristyle is a real court or a garden surrounded with columns forming a portico.  In the
house  of Pansa, the  sixteen  columns, although
originally Doric, had been repaired in the Corinthian
style by means of a replastering of stucco. In




TIlE DWELLINGS.              143
some houses they were connected by balustrades
or walls breast high, on which flowers in either vases
or boxes of marble were placed, and in one Polnpeian house there was a frame set with glass panes.
In the midst of the court was hollowed out a spacious basin (piscina), sometimes replaced by a parterre
from which the water leaped gaily. In the peristyle of Pansa's house is still seen, in an intercolumniation, the mouth of a cistern.  We are now
in the richest and most favored part of the establishment.
At the end opens the cecus, the most spacious
hall, surrounded, in the houses of the opulent Romans, with columns and galleries, decorated with
precious marbles developing into a basilica. But
in the house of Pansa do not look for such splendors. Its cecus was but a large chamber between
the peristyle and a garden.
To the right of the cecus, at the end of the
court, is half hidden a smaller and less obtrusive
apartment, probably an exedra.  On the right wing
of the peristyle, on the last range, recedes the triclinium.  The word signifies triple bed; three beds




144I         THE WONDERS OF POMIPEII.
in fine, ranged in  horse-shoe order, occupied this
apartment, which  served as a dining-room.  It is
well known that the ancients took their meals in
a reclining  attitude and resting  on, their elbows.
This Carthaginian custom, imported by the Punic
wars, had become established every-where, even Lat
Pompeii. The ancients said " make the beds," instead of" lay the table."
To the right of the peristyle on the first range,
glides a corridor receding toward  a private door
that opens on a small side street. This was the
Jposticum, by which the master of the house evaded
the  importunate  visitors who  filled  the  atrium.
This method of escaping bores was calledcl postico
fagUlere clientemn. It was a device that must have
been  familiar  to riell  persons who were  beset
every morning by a throng of petitioners and
hangers-on.
The left side of the peristyle was occupied by
three bedchambers, and by the kitchen, whicll  as
hidden at the end, to the left of the icus. This
kitchen, lile most of the others, has its fireplaces
and ovens still standing.  They contained ashes and




TIHE DWELLINGS.               1.45
even coal wher. they were discovered, not to men
tion the  cookinrg  utensils in  terra  cotta and  in
bronze. Upon the walls were painted two enormous
serpents, sacred reptiles which protected the altar
of Fornax, the culinary divinity.  Other paintings
(a hare, a pig, a wild boar's head, fish, etc.) ornamented this room adjoining which was, in the olden
time among the Pompeians, as to-day among the
Neapolitans, the most ignoble retreat in the dwelling. A  cabinet close by served for a pantry, and
there were found in it a large table and jars of
oil rangred along on a bench.
Thus a large portico with columns, surrounding
a court adorned with  a marble basin (piscinai);
around  tle  portico  on  the  right, three  bedchambers or cubiczec; on the right, a rear door
(posticeuz) and  an  eatingi room  (tricliniuttz); at
the end, the  grand  saloon  (rocuS), between  an
exedra  and  kitchen —such  was the peristyle of
Pansa.
This relatively spacious habitation had still a third
depth (allow  inm  the expression) behind  the peristyle. This was the xysta or garden, divided off




146          THE WONDERS OF PO.MPEII.
into beds, and the divisions of which, when it was
found, could still be seen marked ill the ashes.
Some antiquaries make it out that the xysta of
Pansa was merely a kitchen garden. ]Between the
xysta and the peristyle was the pergula, a twostoried  covered gallery, a shelter against the sun
and the rain. The occupants in their flight left
behind them  a hlandsome bronze candlestick.
Such was the ground-floor of a rich Pompeian
dwelling. As for the upper stories, we  can  say
nothing about them. Fire and time have completely
destroyed  them. They were probably  very  light
structures; the lo-wer walls could not have supported
others. Mlost of the partitions must have been of
-wood. Ae know from boolks that the women, slaves,
and lodgers perched in these pigeon-houses, which,
destitute, as they were, of the space reserved for the
wide courts and the large lower halls, llust have been
sufficiently narrow   and unpleasant.   Other more,
opulent houses had some rooms that were lacking in
the house of Pansa: these were, first, bathrooms, theu
a 8Jp2erister for tennis, a pinacothe/k or gallery of
paintings, a sacellum or family chapel, and what more




TIlE DWELLINGS.               147
I know not.  The diminutiveness of these small
rooms admitted of their being infinitely multiplied.
I have not said all. The house of Pansa formed an
island (insula) all surrounded with streets, upon tllree
of which opened shops that T have yet to visit. At
first, on the left angle, a bakery, less complete than
the public ovens to which I conducted you in the
second chapter  piecedling this one.  There were
found ornaments singularly irreconcilable with each
other;  inscriptions,  thoroughly  Pagan  in  their
character, Twhich recalled  Epicurus, and  a  Latin
cross in  relief, very sharply marked upon a wall.
This Christian symbol allows fancy to spread her
wings, and Bulwer, the romance-writer, has largely
profited by it.
A shop in the front, the second to the left of thle
entrance door, communicated with the house. The
proprietor, then, was a merchant, or, at least, he sold
the products of his vineyards and orchards on his own
premises, as many gentlemen vine-growers of Florence
still do.  A  slave called the dispensator was the
manager of this business.
Some of these shops opening on a side-street, com



148          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
posed small rooms altogether independent of the
house, and probably occupied by inquilin,,* or lodgers,
a class of people despised among the ancients, who
highly esteemed the homestead idea. A Roman who
did not live under his own roof would cut as poor a
figure as a Parisian who did not occupy his own furnished rooms, or a Neapolitan compelled to go afoot.
HIence, the petty townsmen clubbed together to build
or buy a house, which they owned in common, preferring the inconveniences of a divided proprietorship to
those of a mere temporary occupancy. But they have
greatly changed their notions in that country, for now
they move every year.
I have done no more here than merely to sketch the
plan of the house. Would you refurnish it? Then,
rifle the Naples museum, which has despoiled it. You
will find enough of bedsteads, in the collection of
bronzes there, for the cubicula; enough of carved
benches, tables, stands, and precious vases for the cecus,
the exedra, and the wingS, and enough of lamps to hang
* So strong was this feeling, that the very name inquilinus, or
lodger, was an insult. Cicero not having been born at Rome, Catiline called him offensively civis inqulinus - a lodger citizen. (Sallut.)




15~~~2
2 S ~ ~       ~  
-and           Jwelry and Kitchen Utenslis. found at PImpeiDllliilll.ll_
v   j,  1   ~   i  i  I S  g h F ~~~~~~~~~~WUIIIII,I  G ~
9~~~~~~~' r3ntl nr  r r nnnmo nro   
*  l  r - = l i ^ s O
1liI                                        |     1  
tr                    1S I                  [  
11                 j      1 
201                        |II0'
E ~ 2  R                          1 I.    1 
Candelabra, Jewelry, and lKitchen IUtensils found at PgIeii.








THE DWELLINGS.               149
up; enougll of candelabra to place in the saloons.
Stretch carpets over the costly mosaic pavements
aLnd even over the simple opus signizznuz  (a mixture
of lime and crushed brick) which covered the floor
of the unpretending chambers with a solid incrustation. Above all, replace the ceilings and the roofs,
and then the doors and draperies; in fine, revive
upon all these walls —the humblest as well as the
most splendidcl-the bright and vivid pictures now
effaced. What light, and what a gay impression!
HIow all these clear, bold colors gleam  out in the
snnsihine, which descends in floods from  an open
sky into the peristyle and the atrium! But that is
not all: you must conjure up the dead. Arise, then,
and obey our call, 0 young Pompeians of the first
century! I summon  Pansa, Paratus, their wives,
their children, their slaves; the ostiarius, who kept
the door; the atriensis, who controlled the atrium;
the scolgarius, armed  with  his birch-broom; the
cu7zicuclarii, who were the bedroom  servants; the
pedcayoyge, my colleargue, who was a slave like the
rest, although lie was absolute master of the library,
where he alone, perhaps, understood the secrets of
13*




150          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
the papyri it contained. I hasten to the kitchen:
I want to see it as it was in the ancient day, — the
ccrnarituqn, provided with  pegs and nails for thle
fresh provisions, is suspended to the ceiling; the cooking ranges are garnished with chased stew-pans and
coppers, and large bronze pails, with luxurious handles,
are ranged along on the floor; the walls are covered
with shliing utensils, long-handled spoons bent in
the shape of a swan's neck and head, skillets and
frying-pans, the spit and its iron stand, gridirons,
pastry-moulds (patty-pans?)  fish-moulds (for2nelUa),
and what is no less curious, the apalare and the trua,
flat spoons pierced with holes either to fry eggs or
to beat up liquids, and, in fine, the funnels, the sieves,
the strainers, the  colun?,  vinarizun,  which  they
covered with snow and then poured their wine over
it, so that the latter dropped freshened and cooled
into the cups below, - all rare and precious relies
preserved by Vesuvius, and showing in what odd
corners elegance nestled, as Moliere would have said,
among the RIomans of the olden times.
None but men entered this kitchen: they were the
cool, or coquus, and his subaltern, the slave of the




Vii 








TIE DWELLINGS.                151
slave,,focarius.  The meal is ready, and now come
other slaves assignled to the table, - the tricliniarcles,
or foreman of all the rest; the lectisterniator, who
makes the beds; the praeglustator, who tastes the
viands beforehand to reassure his master; the structor,
who arranges the dishes on the plateaux or trays; the
scissor, who carves the meats; and the young pocillatro,
orpincer2a,c  w ho pours out the wine into the cups, sometimes dancing as he does so (as represented by I1oliere)
with the airs and graces of a woman or a spoiled child.
Thllere is festivity to-day: Paratus sups with Pansa,
or rather Pansa with Iaratus, for I persist in thinking
that we are in the house of the elector and not of
the future  edlile.  If the master of the house be a
real RIoman like Cicero, he rose early this morning
and began the dclay with receiving visits.  IIe is rich,
and therefore has many friends, and has them  of
three kinds, —the salcutatores, the datctores, and the
assedctatoeCs.  The first-niamed call upon him  at his
own house; the second  accompany him  to  public
mecetings; and the third never leave him at all in public. IIe has, besides, a number of clients, wvhom he
protects and whom  he calls "my father" if they be




152         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
old, and "my brother" if they be young. There are
others who come humbly to offer him a little basket
(Spofrtzula), which they carry away full of money or
provisions. This morning Paratus has sent off his vis.
itors expeditiously; then, as he is no doubt a pious
man, he has gone through his devotions before the
domestic altar, where his household gods are ranged.
XWe know that he offered peculiar worship to Bacchus,
for he had a little bronze statue of that god, with silver
eyes; it was, I think, at the entrance of his garden,
in a kettle, wrapped up with other precious articles,
Paratus tried to save this treasure on the day of the
eruption, but he had to abandon it in order to save
himself. But to continue my narration of the day as
this Pompeian spent it. Ilis devotions over, he took a
turn to the Forum, the Exchange, the Basilica, where
lie supported the candidature of Pansa. From there,
unquestionably, he did not omit going to the Thermie,
a measure of health; and, now, at length, he has just
returned to his home. During his absence, his slaves
have cleansed the marbles, washed the stucco, covered
the pavements with sawdust, and, if it be in winter,
have lit fuel on large bronze braziers in the open air and




THE DWELLINGS.               153
borne them into the saloons, for there are no chimneys anywhere. The expected guest at length arrivessalutations to Pansa, the future  dclile! Meanwhile
Sabina, the wife of Paratus, has not remained inactive.
She has passed the whole morning at her toilet, for
the toilet of a Sabina, Pompeian or Roman, is an
affair of state, - see l3oettger's book. As she awoke
she snappedc her fingers to summon her slaves, and
the poor girls have hastened to accomplish this prodigious piece of work. First, the applier of cosmetics
has effaced the wrinkles from the brows of her mistress,
and, then, with her saliva, has prepared her rouge;
thlen, with a needle, she has painted her mistress' eyelashes and eyebrows, forming two well-arched and
tufted lines of jetty hue, which unite at the root of the
nose. This operation completed, she has washed Sabina's teeth with rosin from Scio, or more simply, with
pulverized pumice-stone, and, finally, has overspread
her entire countenance with the white powder of lead
which was much used by the Romans at that early day.
Then came the ornatrix, or lairdresser. The fair
Romans dyed their hair blonde, and when the dyeing
process was not sufficient, they  wore wigs. This




154          TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
example was followed by the artists, who put wigs on
their statues; in France they would put on crinoline.
Ancient head-dresses were formidable  monuments
held up with pins of seven or eight inches in length.
One of these pins, found at I-Ierculaneum, is surmounted with a Corinthian capital upon which a
carved Venus is twisting her hair with both hands
while she looks into a mirror that Cupid holds iup
before her. The mirrors of those ancient days — let
us exhaust the subject! - were of polished metal; the
richest were composed of a plate of silver applied
upon a plate of gold and sustained by a carved handle
of wood or ivory; and Seneca exclaimed, in his testy
indignation, "The dowry that the Senate once bestowed upon the daughter of Scipio would no longer
suffice to pay for the mirror of a freedwoman!"
At length, Sabina's hair is dressedcl: Ieaven grant
that she may be pleased with it, and may not, in a fit
of rage, plunge one of her long pins into the naked
shoulder of the ornatrix! Now comes the slave who
cuts her nails, for never would a ioman lady, or a Ro-.
man gentleman either, who had an y self-respect, have
deigned to perform  this operationl with their own




sA........... -'',.               V  n
Lamps of Earthenware and Bronze found at Pompeii.








TIHE DWELLINGS.               155
hands. It was to the barber or tonsor that this office
was assigned, along with the whole masculine toilet,
generally speaking; that worthy shaved you, clipped
you, plucked you, even washed you and rubbed your
skin; perfumed you with unguents, and curried you
with the strigilla if the slaves at the bath had not
already done so. IIorace makes great sport of an
eccentric who used to pare his own nails.
Sabina then abandons her hands to a slave who,
armed with a set of small pincers and a penkilife (the
ancients were unacquaintcd with scissors), acquitted
themselves skilfully of that delicate task - a most
grave affair and a tedious operation, as the Roman
ladies wore no gloves. Gesticulation was for therm
a science learnedly termed cliironzormy. Like a skilful
instrument, pantomime  harmoniously  accompanied
the voice. IHence, all those striking expressions that
we find in authors,-" the subtle devices of the fingers,"
as Cicero has it; the "loquacious hand" of Petronius.
Iecall to your mnemory the beautiful hands of Diana
and Minerva, and these two lines of Ovid, which naturally come in here:




156           THIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.;Exiguo signet gestu quodcunque loquetur,
Cui digiti pingues, cui scaber unguis erit." *
The nail-paring over, there remains the dressing
of the person, to be accomplished by other slaves.  Tho
seamstresses (ccrcilatrices) belonged  to  the  leastimportant class; for that matter, there was little or no
sewing  to  do on  the  garments of the  ancients.
Lucretia had been dead for many years, and the
matrons of the empire did not waste their time in
spinning wool. When  Livia wanted  to  makle the
garments of Augustus with  her own  hands, this
fancy of the Empress was considered to be in very
bad taste. A long retinue of slaves (cutters, linendressers, folders, etc.), shared in  the work of the
feminine toilet, which, after all, was the simplest that
had been worn since the nudity of the earliest days.
Over the scarf which they called trophium,, and which
sufficed to hold up their bosoms, the Roman ladies
passed a long-sleeved sutbucula, made of fine wool, and
over that they wore nothing but the tunic when in the
house.  The libertince, or simple citizens' wives and
* Let not fingers that are too thick, and ill-pared nails, make
gestures too conspicuous.




TIHE DWELLINGS.              157
daughters, wore this robe short and coming scarcely to
the knee, so as to leave in sight the rich bracelets that
they wore around their legs. B3ut the matrons lengthened the ordinary tunic by means of a plaited furbelow or flounce (instita), edged, sometimes, with golden
or purple thread. In such case, it took the name of
stola, and descended to their feet. They knotted it at
the waist, by means of a girdle artistically hidden
under a fold of the tucked-up garment. Below the tunic,
the women when on the street wore, lastly, their toga,
which was a roomy mantle enveloping the bosom and
flung back over the left shoulder; and thus attired,they moved along proudly, draped in white woollens.
At length, the wife of Paratus is completely attired; she has drawn on the white bootees worn by
matrons; unless, indeed, she happens to prefer the
sandals worn by the libertine, — the freedwomen were
so called,- which left those large, handsome Roman
feet, which we should like to see a little smaller,
uncovered. The selection of her jewelry is now all
that remains to be done. Sabina owned some curious
specimens that were found in the ruins of her house.
The Latins had a discourteous word to designate this




158           TIllE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
collection  of precious kniclk-knaclery; they called
it the "woman's world," as though it were indeed all
that there w-as in the world for women.  One room
in the MIuseumrn   at Naples is full of these exhumed
trinkets, consisting of serpents bent into rings and
bracelets, circlets of gold set with carved stones, earrings representing  sets of scales, clusters of pearls,
threads of gold  skilfully twisted  into  necklaces;
chaplets to which hung amulets, of more or less decent
design, intended as charms to ward off ill-luck; pins
with carved heads; rich clasps that held up the tunic
sleeves or the gathered folds of the mantle, cameoed
with a superb relief and of exquisite workmanship
worthy of Greece; in fine, all that luxury and art,
sustaining eacll other, could invent that was most
wonderful.  The Pompeian ladies, in their character of
provincials, must have carried this love of baubles that
cost them  so dearly, to extremes: thus, they wore
themn in their hair, in their ears, on their necks, on
their shoulders, their arms, their wrists, their legs, even
on  their ankles and their feet, but especially on
their hands, every finger of which, excepting  the
middle one, was covered with rings up to the third joint,




I~
Neklce Rng Baclesad  arrigs I       datPopet








THE DWELLINGS.               159
where their lovers slipped on those that they desired
to exchange with them.
IIer toilet completed, Sabina descended from  her
room in the upper story.  The ordinary guests, the
friend of the house, the clients and the shadows
(such wvas the name applied to the supernumeraries, the  humble doubles whom  the invited guests
brought with them), awaited her in the peristyle.
Nine guests in all -the number of the Muses.
It was forbidden to exceed that total at the suppers of the triclinium. There  were never more
thllan nine, nor less than three, the  number of
the Graces.  When a great lord invited six thousand Romans to his table, the couches were laid
in thle atrium.  But there is not an atrium  in
Pompeii that could contain the hundredth part of
that number.
The ninth hour of the day, i. ce., the third or
fourth in  the afternoon, has sounded, and  it is
now  that the supper begins in  all respectable
houses.  Some light collations; in the morning and
at noon, have only sharpened the appetites of the
guests.  All are now  assembled; they wash their




160          THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
hands and their feet, leave their sandals at the
door, and are shown into the triclinium.
The three  bronze  bedsteads are covered  with
cushions and drapery; the one at the end (tAe
rmedius) in one  corner' represents  the  place of
honor reserved for the important guest, the consular  personage.  On  the  couch  to  the  right
recline the host, the hostess, and the friend of
the house.  The other guests take the remaining
places. Then, in come the slaves bearing trays,
which they put, one by one, upon the small bronze
table with the marble top which is stationed between
the three couches like a tripod. Ah! what glowing
descriptions I  should  have to make  were I at
the house of Trimalcion  or Lucullus!  I should
depict to you the winged hares, the pullets and
fish carved in pieces, with pork meat; the wild
boar served  up whole upon an enormous platter
and  stuffed  with  living  thrushes, whicl  fly out
in  every direction  when  the  boar's stomach  is
cut open; the side dishes of birds' tongues; of
enormous murence or eels; barbel caught in the
Western Ocean and stifled in salt pickle; surprises




THE DWELLINGS.                  161
of all kinds for the guests, such as sets of dishes
descending  from  the ceiling, fantastic  apparitions,
dancing girls, mountebanks, gladiators, trained female
athletes, — all the orgies, in fine, of those strange old
times.  But let us not forget where ewe really
are. Paratus is not an emperor, and has to confine
himself to a simple citizen repast, quiet and unassuming throughout.  The bill of fare of one of these
suppers has been preserved, and here we give it
First Course. -Sea urchins. RTaw oysters at discretion. Pelorides or palourdes (a sort of shell-fish now
found on the coasts of Poitou in France).  Thorny
shelled oysters; larks; a hen pullet with asparagus;
stewed oysters and mussels; white and black sea-tulips.
Second  Course. - Spondulae, a variety of oyster;
sweet water mussels; sea nettles; becaficoes; cutlets of kid and boar's meat; chicklien  pie; becafieoes again, but differently prepared, with an asparagus sauce; murex and purple fish.  The latter
were but different kinds of shell-fish.
Third Course. —The teats of a sow au nzaturel;
they were cut as soon as the animal had littered;
wild boar's  lead (this was the  main dish); sow's




162          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
teats in a ragout; the breasts and necks of roast
ducks; fricasseed wild duck; roast. hare, a great
delicacy; roasted Phrygian chickens; starch cream;
cakes from Vicenza.
All this was washed down with the light Pompeian wine, which was not bad, and could be kept
for ten years, if boiled. The wine of Vesuvius,
once highly esteemed, has lost its reputation, owing
to the concoctions now  sold to travellers under
the label of;Iaclhrymc C/hri8si. The vintages of
the volcano must have been more honestly prepared  at the period when  they were sung  by
Martial. Every day there is found in the cellars
of Pompeii some short-neckled, full-bodied, and elongated amphora, terminating in a point so as to
stick upright in the ground, and nearly all are
marked with an inscription stating the age and
origin of the liquor they contained. The names
of the consuls usually designated the year of the
vintage. The further back the consul, the more
respectable the wine. A  Poman, in the days of
the Empire, having been asked under what consul
his wine dated, boldly  replied, "Under none!"




TIHE DWELLINGS.               163
thereby proclaiming that his cellar had been stocked
under the earliest kings of RIome.
These inscriptions on  the amphorm  make us
acluainted with an old Vesuvian wine called picatzn, or, in  other words, with  a taste of pitch;
fuandantm2n, or Fondi wine, much  esteemed, and
many others.  In fine, let us not forget the famous
growth of Falernus, sung by the poets, which did not
disappear until the tine of Theodoric.
But besides the amphorte, how much other testimony
there still remains of the olden libations, - those
rich  craterce, or broad, shallow  goblets of bronze
damaseened with silver; those delicately chiselled
cups; those glasses and bottles which Vesuvius has
preserved for us; that jug, the handle of which is
formed  of a satyr bending backward to rub his
shoulders against the edge of the vase; those vessels
of all shapes on which eagles perch or swans and
serpents writhe; those cups of baked clay adorned
with so many arabesqlues and inviting descriptions.
"Friend," says one of them "drink of my contents."
" Friend of mly soul, this goblet sip!"
rhymes the modern bard.




164          TEE WONDERS OF POMPEIT.
What a mass of curious and costly things! WVhat
is the use of rummaging in books! With the muscums of Naples before us, we can reconstruct all
the triclinia of Pompeii at a glance.
There, then, are the guests, gay, serene, reclining
or leaning on their elbows on the three couches.
The table is before them, but only to be looked at,
for slaves are continually moving to and fro, from
one to the other, serving every guest with a
portion of each dish on a slice of bread. Pansa
daintily carries the delicate morsel offered him  to
his mouth with his fingers, and flings the bread
under the table, where a slave, in crouching attitude,
gathers np all the debris of the repast. No forks are
used, for the  ancients were  unacquainted with
them. At the most, they knew the use of the spoon
or cochlea, which they employed in eating eggs.
After each dish they dipped their fingers in a basin
presented to them, and then wiped them upon a
napkin that they carried with them as we take our
handkerchiefs with us. The wealthiest people had
some that were very costly and which they threw
into the fire when they had been soiled; the fire




THIIE DWELLINGS.            165
tleansed without burning them. Refined people wiped
their fingers on the hair of the cupbearers, - another
Oriental usage.  Recollect Jesus and Mary Magdalenc.
At length, the repast being concluded, the guests
took off their wreaths, which they stripped of their
leaves into a goblet that was passed around the
circle for every one to taste, and this ceremony
concluded the libations.
I have endeavored to describe the supper of a
rich Pompeian and exhibit his dwelling as it would
appear reconstructed and re-occupied. Reduce its
dimensions and simplify it as much as possible by.nppressing the peristyle, the columns, the paintings,
tthe tablinum, the exedra, and all the rooms devoted
to pleasure or vanity, and you will have the house
of a poor man. On the contrary, if you develop it,
by enriching it beyond measure, you may build in
your fancy one of those superb Roman palaces,
the extravagant luxuriousness of which augmented,
from  day to day, under the  emperors.  Lucius
Crassus, who was the first to introduce columns of
foreign marble, in his dwelling, erected only six of




166          TIHE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
them  but twelve feet high. At a later period,
Marcus Scaurus surrounded his atrium with a colonnade of black marble rising thirty-eight feet above
the soil. MIamurra did not stop at so fair a limit.
That distinguished Poman knight covered his whole
house with marble. The residence of Lepidus was
the handsomest in RIome seventy-eight years before
Christ. Thirty-five years later, it was but the hundredth. In spite of some attempts at reaction by
Augustus, this passion  for splendor reached  *a
frantic pitch. A freedman in the reign of Claudius
decorated  his triclinium  with thirty-two columns
of onyx.  I say nothing of the slaves that were
counted by thousands in the old palaces, and by
hundreds in the triclinium  and kitchen alone.
"0 ye beneficent gods! how many men employed to
serve a single stomach!" exclaimed Seneca, who passed
in his day for a master of rhetoric. In our time, he
would be deemed a socialist.








L -        I  ____m______i l~                    l
i    4
_ X                                                           t1, AS
Ff  Ilmruurunllr I~ll I II le~~llli —= —--— "-  iij j /1  I




VII.
ART IN POMPEII.
THE HOMES OF THE WEALTHY. -THE TRIANGULAR FORUM AND THE TEMPLES. -
POMPEIAN ARCHITECTURE: ITS MERITS AND ITS DEFECTS. -THE ARTISTS OF
THE LITTLE CITY.-THE PAINTINGS HERE,-LANDSCAPES, FIGURES, ROPEDANCERS, DANCING-GIRLS, CENTAURS, GODS, HEROES, THE ILIAD ILLUSTRATED. -
MOSAICS. - STATUES AND STATUETTES. — JEWELRY. - CARVED GLASS. -ART
AND LIFE.
TIIE house of Pansa was large, but not much ornamented.  There are others which  are shown in preference to the visitor.  Let us mention them  concisely
in the catalogue and inventory style:
The house of the Faun. — Fine mosaics; a masterpiece in  bronze; the  Dancing  Faun, of which we
shall speak farther on.  Besides the atrium  and the
peristyle, a third court, the xysta, surrounded with fortyfour columns, duplicated on the upper story.  NTumberless precious things were found there, in the presence
of the son of Goethe.  The owner was a wine-merchant. (?)
The house of the Qutestor, or of Castor and Pollux.
(167)




168          THIE'WONDERS OF POM:PEII.
— Large safes of very thick and very hard  oodl, lined
with copper and ornamented with arabesques, perhaps
the public money-chests, hence this was probably the
residence of the qumstor who had  charg(e of the
public funds; a Corinthian atrium; fine paintings
- the Baccchan te, the lfedea, the Cizdidrenz of xiiobe,
etc. Rich development of the courtyards.
The hou se of the Poet. - Iomeric paintings; celebrated. mosaics; the dog at the doorsill, with the inscription  cave (Ganern; the Coragcus ccztsi2y ttke recitation
of acpiece. All these are at the museum.
The house of Sallust. - A fine bronze group; IHercules pursuing a deer (taken to the Mluseum at Palermo);
a pretty stucco relievo in one of the bedchambers;
Three couches of masonry in the  triclinium; a
decent  and modest vencreumrn that ladies may visit.
There is seen an Acteon surprising Diana in the bath,
the stag's antlers growing on his forehead and the
hounds tearing him. The two scenes connect in the
same picture, as in the paintings of the middle ages.
Was this a warning to rash people?  This venereum
contained a bedchamber, a triclinium and a lararium,
or small marble niche in which the household god
was enshrined-&,




"'' ""~:UC'"j;~:~:I:::::t-:::-~:~i-:~:; ~i~ ~i~i~~j~'~'ll'~j"'"".::::::::
9:~-~~~~~~"-.:;:::::.':~'i':~::::::,::~:~:z::i
xr —::~:~::::::-~~:~:~-~:-~~:~:~:~-::r::-:I:-li'':..:.:.~.~*.~-.~.~.~.~-.~?~~~-.~~:~.:~~~-.~:~ ~:. ~ ~~~~~~~~~:~~~~:~:~.:::: —::WL~~.-iY~::
f:~r-.~~~:~:~~ r,: -. — r.n,: ~~ ~ """'-~:i::i:::::::::i:X:~:::::
3'::t:;::::::~.:1:r_:i;
~::::i 1 ii iiiiiii
ii1  .ijltl
iib:iil;i j((lbl
811 ~;-;::;::-:::::liil~i ~- :':'i:i :iir
wl ijl j iB
3tii                                          EiN:S   iie    D 21iiiiiii:iii                                                   t
ijjiLY
ii'ii31IP         ii'Sr
B$ri i;:j 1 i:::::: Tct::i18iBili Bilii::?~* —,i
a
jln'""""~ gii~:,. ~: LlrlQ*
ii ii:i;ii ri rr:5 i:ii I T;!~iSilFi aiiili
LT; Bil
iie, i LdBFTI
n:::.::t
I1I ti a j6:i6Z
I iii~i
j::iiiiii;ii'ai;:iii:Iii:IC
i:'iliiiii'~iiiiCtwlli iri IiZi5iI Iii -~:tia iiiB:i
c-: iiiii
2jiiij'''dBI'-i siiBiili
is lii:ii;j"":: ~ q:::::i:::::::ji iiiii:::bl " ":Wile'L&i:"""1
i liiii il 
j:il::":r:i Ild;S,c,-;;;;;;:i :::::-::: —Z:9-:::::::~.:::-r:-:-::::::::::::::::- r:::: hie
-jilijli 
Bi is::.:::.::::::::::::
iii:i.i.i.i.i:i:l:i:::l:i-i;i:l:':::l:' i:i i.i.i.i.i:i:i:::i:iii:i::::-::l-::::::l-i-l:r::::ii:: I:::-:::_:::::::::::::,:::,:l:,:,:,:,:,r
sr:::sns::j:,zias::ari::::~:-,~::::::~.:111IifiilIZ
  i
i:::::ii       ii:  jp  i:lli:iri:i~i:iiiiili:i   iil.iii:iiill:ili:iiiiijjj::i:j
j~Z Iji                                        li:iiiiii:iilifi:isiiii:iririiiiii  iiililiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii':i:':i:i:iiiiil:""
Fs iiiiiiiiiiliiiiilijiiiiiiiiiiirilili:l:i
i:iliiiri:iliiiiiiiiiiiiliiiii'iii'iiiii
iaiie,,            u   xri~:iiiiiii;:::i:iii:iii:iii-i:i:::iili'i'i''i;iii:;i~:i~:~i'iiiiii:i~;iilii'i:':::xii:iiiii:i liii:i:i:iiii:iii:
rsr iilii:il::::l:::............:iiii:i::-:::li::::::::::::::::::::::
~Giiriii:iiiliiiiliiiiiiiiEriiiiiiiii
:l:ji;jijjjjjijij:iliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'a
;i:i:i:i:i:iiiii.ii:iii:i.i:i.i'ii:::::::::::::.:.::..:::::::::::.:::::::::::::::::::::::::
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'iiiiiiiiiiiili''::::::::.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.~.~jjj'jjiijj.jlijjljjiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~~r~~~~~:i~:~.:~Li. j-ii::iittiijjjiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
iiijiiiiijiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
~:::::~::::::::.:::::::::::::::::::::':::::::':::':'::::::':::::':::::::::'':::~::::::::::::::;;::: r"~~:~:~::::::::::'::::::::::::::::'::':':':':::
iiiiiiliiiii:iiiiirili;iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
if:l:l:i:i:l:i:l:l:l:I:i:::::i:i:l:i:i:i  ~~:::::~:~::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::.:~..:~:~::~::..:.:~: ~~:~:~:~:::~:~: ~~~:~:~:~:~:
5  ~:~:~.~:~:~:~:~:~:~i:~:~:~:~:~.~.~.~.~ I:








ART IN POMIPEII.              169
The hlouse of Mllarcus Lucretius. — Very curious.
A peristyle forming a sort of platform, occupied with
baubles, which they have had the good taste to leave
tl:lere; a miniature fountain, little tiers of seats, a small
conduit, a small fish-tank, grotesque little figures in
broinze,' statuettes and images of all sorts, — Bacchus
and Bacchantes, Fauns and Satyrs, one of which, with
its arm raised above its head, is charming.  Another in
the form of a IIermes holds a kid in its arms; the shegoat trying to get a glimpse of her little one, is raising her fore-feet as though to clamber up on the
spoiler.  These odds and ends make up a pretty
collection of toys, a shelf, as it were, on an ancient
vwhat-not of knick-knacks.
Then, there are the Adonis and the Itermaphrodite in the house of Adonis; the sacrarium  or domestic chapel in the house of the Mosaic Columns;
the wild beasts adorning the house of the HIunt;
above all, the'fresh excavations, where the paintings
retain  their undiminished  brilliance.  But if  all
these houses are to be visited, they are not to be
described. Antiquaries dart upon  this prey with
frenzy, measuring  the tiniest stone, discussing the
15




170          THE WONDERS OF POMIPEH.
smallest painting, and leaving not a single frieze
or panel without some comment, so that, after
having read their remarks, one fancies that everything is precious in this  exhumed  curiosity-shop.
These folks deceive themselves and they deceive
us; their feelings as virtuosos thoroughly exhaust
themselves upon a theme which is very attractive,
very curious,'tis true, but -vwhich  calls for less completely scientific hands to set it to music, the more
so that in Pompeii there is nothing grand, or
massive, or  difficult to  comprehend.  Everything
stands right forth to the gaze and  explains itself
as clearly and sharply as the light of day.
lMoreover, these  houses  have  been  despoiled.
I might tell you of a pretty picture or a rich mosaic
in such-and-such  a room. You would go thither
to look for it and not find it. The museum  at
Naples has it, and if it be not there it is nowhere.'Time, the atmosphere, and the sunlight have destroyed it.  Therefore, those  -who make out an
inventory of these houses for'you are prepa-ring
you bitter disappointments.
The only way to get an idea of Pompeian art




AnlT IN POMPEII.            171
is not to examine all these monuments separately,
b ut to group them in one's mind, and then to pay
the museum  an attentive visit.  Thus we can put
together a little ideal city, an artistic Pompeii,
which we are going to make the attempt to exprore.
Pompeii had two and even three forums.  The
third was a market; the first, with which you are
already acquainted, was a public square; the other,
whlich we are about to visit, is a sort of Acropolis,
inclosed like that of Athens, and placed upon the
highest spot of ground in the city. From a bench,
still in its proper position at the extremity of this
foruml, you may distinguish the valley of the Sarno,
the shady mountains that close  its  perspective,
the cultivated  checker-work of the country side,
green  tufts  of the  woodlands, and  then  the
gently curving coast-line where Stabime wound
in and out, with the' picturesque heights of
Sorrento, the deep blue of the sea, the transparent azure of the heavens, the infinite limpidity of
the  distant horizon, the brilliant clearness and
the antique color.  Those who have not beheld
this scenery, can only half comprehend its monn.




172          TlHE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
ments, which would ever be out of place beneatll
another sky.
It was in this bright sunlight that the Pompeian
Acropolis, the triangular Forum, stood. Eight Ionic
columns adorned its entrance and sustained a portico of the purest elegtance, from which ran two long,
slender colonnades widening apart from  each other
and forming  an acute angle. They are still surmounted with their architrave, which they lightly
supported. The terrace, looking out upon the country
and the sea, formed the third side of the triangle,
in the middle of which rose some altars,  the ustrinmn, in which the dead were burned, a small
round temple covering a sacred well, and, finally,
a Greek temple rising above all the rest from  the
height of its foundation and marking its columns
unobstructedly against the sky. This platform, resting upon solid supports and covered with monuments in a fine style of art, was the best written
page. and  the most substantially  correct one in
Pompeii. Unfortunately, here, as everywhere else,
stucco had been plastered over the stone-work. The
columns were painted. Nowhere could a front of




APRT IN POMIPEII.            173
pure  marble  the white on  the  blue —be seen
defined against the sky.
The remaining temples furnish us few  data on
arcliteecturo. You lknow those of the Foruml. The
temple of Fortune, now greatly dilapidatedl, must have
resembled that of Jupiter. Erected by Mlarcus Tullius, a reputed relative of Cicero, it yields us nothing
but very mediocre statues and inscriptions full of
errors, proving that the priesthood of the place, by no
means Ciceronian  in their acquirements, did not
thoroughly know even their own language. The temple of Esculapius, besides its altar, has retained a
very odd capital, Corinthian if you will, but on which
cabbage leaves, instead of the acanthus, are seen enveloping a head of N"eptune. The temple of Isis,
still standing, is more curious than handsome. It
shows * that the Egyptian goddess was venerated at
Pompeii, but it tells us nothing about antique art. It
is entered at the side, by a sort of corridor leading
into the sacred inclosure. The temple is on the right;
the columns inclose it; a vaulted niche is hollowed out
beneath the altar, where it served as a hiding-place for
the priests, - at least so say the romance-writers.  Un.
[* See note on page 198.]
15*




174           THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
fortunately for this idea, the doorway of the recess
stood forth and still stands forth to the gaze, renderingl the alleged trickery impossible.
Behind the cella, another niche contained a statue
of ]iacchus, who was, perhaps, the same god as Osiris.
lAn expurgation room, intended for ablutions and purifications, descending  to  a  subterranean  reservoir,
occupied an angle of the courtyard.  In front of this
apartment stands an altar, on which were found some
remnants of sacrifices. Isis, then, was the only divinity
invoked at the moment of the eruption. IIer painted
statue hleld a cross withl a handle to it, in one hand,'land a cithera in the other, and her hlair fell in long
an-d carefully curled ringlets.
This is all that the temples give us. Artistically
speaklinig, it is but little.  Neither are the other
monuments much richer in their information concerning ancient architecture.  They let us know that
the material chiefly employed consisted of lava, of
tufa, of brick, excellently prepared, having more surface and less thickness than ours; of )peperino (Sarno
stone), which time renders very hard, sometimes with
travertine and even marble in the ornaments; then




ART IN P1 OMPEII             175
there was RPoman mortar, celebrated for its solidity,
less perfect at Pompeii, however, than at Rome; and
finally, the stucco surface, covering the entire city with
its smooth and polished crust, like a variegated mantle. ]ut these edifices tell us nothing in particular;
there is neither a style peculiar to Pompeii discernible in them, nor do we find artists of the place bearing
any noted name, or possessing any singularity of taste
and method. On tile other hand, there is an easy
eclecticisml that adopts all forms with equal facility and
betrays the decadence or the sterility of the time. I
recall the fact that the city was in process of reconstruction when it was destroyed. Its unskilful repairs disclose a certain predilection for that cheap kind of
elegance which among us, has taken the place of art.
Stucco tricks off and disfigures everything. Reality is
sacrificed to appearance, and genuine elegance to that
kind of showy avarice which assumes a false look of
profusion. In many places, the fiutings are economically preserved by means of moulds that fill them in
the lower part of the columns. Painting takies the
place of sculpture at every point where it can supply
it. The capitals affect odd shapes, sometimes success



1 76         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
fully, but always at variance with the simplicity of
high art. Add to these objections other faults, glaring
at first glance, - for instance, the adornment of the
temple of Mercury, where the panels terminate alternately in pediments and in arcades; the facade of
the purgatorium  in the temple of Isis, where the
arcade itself cutting the cornice, becomes involved
hideously with the pediment.  I shall say nothing
either, of the fountains, or of the columns, alas!
formed of shell-work and mosaic.
Faults like these shock the eye of purists; but
let us constantly bear in mind that we are in a
small city, the finest residence in which belonged
to a wine-mercllant.  We could not with  fairness
expect to find there the Parthenon, or even the
Pantheon  of  Rome.  The  Pormpeian  architects
worked  for simple burghers whose moderate wish
was to own pretty houses, not too large nor too
dear, but of rich external appearance and a gayety
of look that gratified the eye. These good tradesmen were served to their hearts' content by skilful persons who turned everything to good account,
cutting rooms by scores within a space that would




ART IN POM!PEII.               177
not be sufficient for one large saloon in our palaces,
profiting  by all the accidents of the soil to raise
their structures by stories into amphitheatres, devising  one  ingenious subterfuge  after another to
mask the  defects  of alignment, and, in a word,
with feeble resources and  narrow  means, realizing
what the ancients always dreamed — art combined
with every-day life.
For proof of this I point to their paintings
covering those handsome stucco walls, which  were
so carefully prepared, so frequently overlaid with
the finest mortar, so  ingeniously dashed with shining powder, and, then, so often smoothed, repolished and repacked with wooden rollers that they,
at last, looked like and passed for marble.  Whether
painted in fresco or dry, in encaustic or by other
processes, matters little —that belongs to technical
authorities to decide.*
* The learned Minervini has remarked certain differences in
the washes put on the Pompeian walls. He has indicated finer
ones with which, according to him, the ancients painted in fresco
their more studied compositions, landscapes, and figures, while
ordinary decorations were painted dry by inferior painters. I
recall the fact, as I pass on, that several paintings, particularly the




178            TItE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
hIowevcr that may  be, these  mural decorations
were nevertheless a feast for the eyes, and are so
still.  They divided the walls into five or six panels,
developing themselves between a socle and a frieze;
the socle being deeper, the frieze clearer in tint, the
interspace of  a more vivid red and yellow, for instance, while  the  frieze was white  and  the socleblack.  In plain houses these single panels were divided by simple lines; then gradually, as the house
selected became more opulent, these lines were re-,
placed by ornamental frames, garlands, pilasters, and,
ere long, fantastic pavilions, in which the fancy of the
decorative  artist disported  at will.  loevcver, tile:
socles became covered with foliage, the friezes with
arabesques, and the panels with paintings, the lattermost important, were detached, but secured to the wall with
iron clamps. It has ever been noticed that the back of these
pictures did not adhere to the walls-an excellent precaution
against dampness. This custom of sawving off and shifting mural
paintings was very ancient. It is known that the wealthy Romans
adorned their houises with works of art'borrowed or stolen from
Greece, and all will remember the famous contract of Mummius,
who, in arranging with some merchants to convey to Rome the masterpieces of Zeuxis and Apelles, stipulated that if they should be
lost or damaged on the way, the merchants should replace them at
their own expense.




ART IN POMPEIL.                179
quite simlple at first, such as a flower, a fruit, a landscape; pretty soon a figuLre, then a group, then at last
great historical or religious subjects that sometimes
covered a whole piece of wall and to which the socle
and the frieze served as a sort of showy and majestic
framework.  Thus, the fancy of the decorator could
rise even to the height of epic art.
Those paintings will be eternally studied: they give
us precious data, not only on art, but concerning everything that relates to antiquity, - its manners and customs, its ceremonies, its costumes,  the homes of those
days, the elements and nature as they then appeared.
Pompeii is not a gallery of pietures; it is rather an illustrated journal of the first century.  One there sees
odd landscapes; a little island on the edge of the water; a bank of the Nile where an ass, stooping to drink,
bends toward the open jaws of a crocodile which he
does not see, while his master frantically but vainly
endeavors to pull him  back by  the  tail.  These
pieces nearly always consist of rocks on the edge of
the water, sometimes interspersed with trees, sometimes covered with  ranges of temples, sometimes
stretching  away in  rugged  solitudes, where  some




180          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
shepherd wanders astray with his flock, or from time
to time, enlivened with a historical scene (Andromeda and Perseus). Then come little pictures of inanimate nature, -baskets of fruit, vases of flowers,
household utensils, bunches of vegetables, the collection of office-furniture painted in the house of Lucretins (the inkstand, the stylus, the paper-klnife, the tablets, and a letter folded in the shape of a napkin with
the address, "To Marcus Aurelius, flamen of Mfars, and
decurion of Pompeii "). Sometimes these paintings
have a smack of humor; there are two that go together on the same wall. One of them shows a cock
and a hen strolling about full of life, while upon the
other the cock is in durance vile, with his legs tied
and looking most doleful indeed: his hour has
come!
I say nothing of the bouquets in which lilies, the
iris, and roses predominate, nor of the festoons, the garlands, nay, the whole thickets that adorn the walls of
Sallust's garden. Let me here merely point out
the pictures of animals, the hunting scenes, and the
combats of wild beasts, treated with such astonishing
vigor and raciness.  There is one, especially, still




ART IN POMPEr.              181
quite fresh and still in its place, in one of tlhe houses
recently discovered. It represents a wild boar rushing headlong upon a bear, in the presence of a lion,
who looks on at him with the most superb indifference. It is divined, as the Neapolitans say; that is,
the painter has intuitively conceived the feelings of the
two animals; the one blind with reckless fury, the
other supremely confident in his own agility and superior strength.
And now I come to the lhuman form. IIere we
have endless variety; and all kinds, froml the caricature to the epic effort, are attempted and exhausted, -
the wagon laden with an enormous goat-skin full of
wine, which slaves are busily putting into amphorae;
a child making an ape dance; a painter copying a
I-Iermes of I3acclhus; a pensive damsel probably
about to dispatch a secret message by the buxom servant-maid waiting there for it; a vendor of Cupids
opening his cage full of little winged gods, who, as
they escape, tease a sad and pensive woman standing
near, in a thousand ways, — how many different subjects! But I have said nothing yet. The Pompeians
especially excelled in fancy pictures. Everybody has
16




182         THE WONDERS OF.POMPEII.
seen those swarms of little genii that, fluttering down
upon the walls of their houses, wove crowns or garlands, angled with the rod and line,'chased birds,
sawed planks, planed tables, raced in chariots, or
danced on the tight-rope, holding up thyrses for hal
ancing poles; one bent o-ver, another kneeling, a third
making   a jet of wine spirt, forth from a horn into a
vase, a fourth playing on the lyre, and a fiftll on the
double flute, without leaving the tight-rope that bends
beneath their nimble feet. But more beautiful than
these divine rope-dancers were the female dancers,
wlho floated about, perfect prodigies of self-possession
and buoyancy, rising of themselves from the ground
and sustained without an effort in the voluptuous air
that cradled them. You may see these all at the museum in Naples, — the nymph who clashes the cymbals,
and one who drulms the tambourine; another who
holds aloft a branch of cedar and a golden sceptre;
one who is handing a plate of figs; and her, too
who has a basket on her head and a thyrsis in her
hand. Another in dancing uncovers her neck and
her shoulders, and a third, with her head thrown
back, and her eyes uplifted to heaven, inflates her




ART IN POMPEII.             183
veil as though to fly away. Iere is one dropping
bunches of flowers in a fold of her robe, and there
another who holds a golden plate in this hand, while
with that she covers her brows with an undulating
palliumn, like a bird putting its head under its
vwing.
There are some alnost nude, and some that drape
themselves in tissues quite transparent and woven of
the air. Some again wrap themselves in thick mantles which cover them completely, but which are about
to fall; two of them holding each other by the hand
are going to float upward together. As many dancing
nymphs as there are, so many are the different dances,
attitudes, movements, undulations, characteristics, and
dissimilar ways of removing and putting on veils;
infinite variations, in fine, upon two notes that vibrate
with  voluptuous luxuriance, and in a' thousand
ways.
Let us continue: We are sweeping into the full tide
of mythology. All the ancient divinities will pass
before us, -now isolated (like the fine, nay, truly
imposing Ceres in the house of Castor and Pollux),
now grouped in well-known scenes, some of whicbl




184         THIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
often recur on the Pompeian walls. Thus, the educa
tion of Bacchus, his relations with Silenlus; the roman
tic story of Ariadne; the loves of Jupiter, Apollo, and
Daphne; Mars and Venus; Adonis dying; Zephyr
and Flora; but, above all, the heroes of renown,
Theseus and Andromeda, Meleager, Jason, heads
of Hercules; his twelve labors, his combat with
the Nemeean lion, his weaknesses, - such are the
episodes most in favor with the decorative artists
of the little city. Sometimes they take their subjects from the poems of Virgil, but oftener from
those of Homer. I might cite a whole house, viz., that
of the Poet, also styled the IIomeric IHouse, the
interior court of which was a complete Iliad illustrated. There you could see the parting of Aganemnon and Chryseis, and also that of Briseis and
Achilles, who, seated on a throne, with a look of angry
resignation, is requesting the young girl to return to
Agamemnnon-a fine picture, of deserved celebrity.
There, too, was beheld the lovely Venus which Gell
has not hesitated to compare, as to form, with the
MZedicean statue, or for color, to Titian's painting. It
will be remembered that she plays a conspicuous part








~alvv:.f JD ~''tX Ip Jo'~  fO i~'Ps~xt
~~~~~~( Vt~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~    q~i-jl...Ki.7~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:E~~~~':tt- ~:-"":~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~j...
~~ ~i~~i~~ I I
~~~j..~. 
~~.ii: ~~~~"""~~~~~:i~~~i 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:i~::::i:: is.TP~




ART Ire POMPEII.             185
in the poem. A little further on we see Jupiter and
Juno meeting on Mount Ida.
"hAt length" says Nicolini, in his sumllptuous work
on Pompeii, "in the natural sequence of these episodes,
appears Thetis reclining on the Triton, and holding
forth to her afflicted son the arms that Vulcan had
forged for him in her presence."
It was in the peristyle of this house that the copy of
the famous picture by Timanthius of the sacrifice of
Iphigenia wts found. " IIaving represented her standing near the altar on which she is to perish, the artist depicts profound grief on the faces of those who
are present, especially of Menelaus; then, having
exhausted all the the symbols of sorrow, he veils the
father's countenance, finding it impossible to give
a befitting expression."  This was, according to Pliny,
the work of Timanthus, and such  is exactly the
reproduction of it as it was found in the house of the
poet at Pompeii.
This Iphigenia and the Medea in the house of
Castor and Pollux, recalling the masterpiece of Timomachos the Byzantine are the only two Pompeian
pictures  which  reproduce  well-known  paintings;
16*




186          THE WONDERS OF POIPETr.
but let us not, for that reason, conclude that
the others are original. The painters of the little
city were neither creators nor copyists, but very free
imitators,varying familiar subjects to suit themselves.
Hence, that variety which surprises us in their reproductions of the same subject. Indeed, I have seen,
at least ten Ariadnes surprised by B]acchus, and there
are no two alike. Hence, also, that ease and freedom of
touch indicating that the decorative artists executing
them felt quite at their ease. Assuredly; their efforts,
which are of quite unequal merit, are not models of
correctness by any means; faults of drawing and proportion, traits of awkardness and heedlessness, swarm
in them; but let anybody pick out a sub-prefecture of
30,000 inhabitants, ill France, and say to the painters
of the district: "Here, my good friends, just go to
work and tear off those sheets of colored paper that
you find pasted upon the walls of rooms and saloons
in every direction, and paint there inl place of them
socles and friezes, devotional images, ge2nre pictures,
and historical pieces summing up the ideas, creeds,
manners and tastes, of our time in such sort that were
the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, or the Jura Alps, to crum



ART IN POMPEII.             187
ble upon you to-morrow, future generations, on digging up your houses and your masterpieces, might there
study the life of our period although it will be antiquity for them."..   What would the painters
of the pla-e be apt to do or say? I think I may reply,
with all respect to them, that they would at least be
greatly embarrassed.
But, on their part, the Pompeians were not a whit
put out when they came to repaint their vwhole city
afresll. Would you like to get an accurate idea of
their real merit and their indisputable value?  If so,
ask some one to conduct you through the houses that
have been lately exhumed, and look at the paintings
still left in their places as they appear with all the
brilliance that Vesuvius has preserved in them, and
which the sunlight will soon impair. In the saloon of
the house of Proculus notice two pieces that correspond, namely, N!arcissus and the Triumph of Bacchus- powerless languor and victorious activity. The
intended meaning is clearly apparent, and is simply
and vividly rendered. The ancients never required
commentators to make them understood. You comprehend their idea and their subject at first glance.




188         THE WONDERS OF POMIPEII.
The most ignorant of men and the least versed in
Pagan lore, take their meaning with half a look anid
give their works a title. In them we find no beating
about the bush, no circumlocution, no hiddein meanings, no confusion; the painter expresses what he
means, does it quickly and does it well, without exaggerating his terms or overloading the scene.  His
principal personages stand out boldly, yet the accessories do not cry aloud, "Look at me!"  The picture of
Narcissus represents Narcissus first and foremost;
then it brings in a solitude and a streamlet. The
coloring has a brilliance and harmoniousness of tint
that surprises us, but there are no useless effects in it.
In nearly all these frescoes (excepting the wedding of
Zephyrus and Flora) the light spreads over it, white
and equable (no one says cold and monotonous), for its
office is not merely to illuminate the picture, but to
throw sufficient glow and warmth upon the wall.
The low and narrow rooms having, instead of windows,
only a door opening on the court, had need of this
painted  daylight which  skilful  pencils wrought
for them. And what movement there was in all








XicSE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~u:Yr rVr
It.. - E;Nxxf-ztW'.~~~~iil  ii i W  
9.>,sS( ei v        f      ~::;   iti:S  j\.  Q}9$4'\   ~ g4+feyWXv,i..:  S,  j:::  i:'":I'\0ft                      {:rSet       >           }<|v  Z)




ART IN -POPEII.                 189
those figures, what suppleness and what truth to
nature! 
Nothing is distorted, nothing attitudinizes. Ariadne is really asleep, and I-Iercules, in wine, really
sinks to the ground; the dancing girl floats in the air
as though in her native element; the centaur gallops
without an effort; it is simple reality- the very reverse of realism — natule such as she actually is when
she is pleasant to behold, in the full effusion of her
grace, advancing like a queen because she is a queen,
and because she could not move in any other fashion.
In a word, these second-rate painters, poor daubers of
walls as they were, had, in the absence of scientific
skill and correctness, the flash of latent genius in
obscurity, the instinct of art, spontaneousness, freedom
of touch, and vivid life.
Such were the walls of Pompeii.  Let us now
glance at the pavements. They will astonish us much
more.  At the outset the pavements were quite plain.
* " And how the ancients, even the most unskilful, understood
the right treatment of nude subjects!" said an eminent critic to
me, one day, as he was with me admiring these pictures; "and,"
he added, " we know nothing more about it now; our statues are
not nwile, but undressed."




190         TRE WONDERS OF POMPEII
There was a cement formed of a kind of mortar; this
was then thoroulghly dusted with pulverized brick,
and the whole converted into a composition, which,
when it had hardened, was like red granite. Many
rooms and courts at Pompeii are paved with this composition which was called opus sigyninenz. Then, in
this crust, they at first ranged small cubes of marble,
of glass, of calcareous stone, of colored enamel, forming squares or stripes, then others complicating the
lines or varying the colors, and others again tracing
regular designs, meandering lines, and arabesques,
until the divided pebbles at length completely covered the reddish basis, and thus they finally became
mosaics, those carpetings of stone which soon rose to
the importance and value of great works of art.
The house of the Faun at Pompeii, which is the
most richly paved of all, was a museum of mosaics.
There was one before the door, upon the sidewalk, inscribed with the ancient salutation, Salve! Another,
at the end of the prothyrum, artistically represented
masks. Others again, in the wings of the atrium, made
up a little menagerie,- a brace of ducks, dead birds,
shell-work, fish, doves taking- pearls from  a casket,




ART IN POMPEIL               191
and a cat devouring a quail-a perfect masterpiece of living movement and precision. Pliny mentions a house, the flooring of which represented the
fragments of a meal: it was called t1e ill-swept howUse.
But let us not quit the house of the Faun, where the
mosaic-workers had, besides  what we have told,
wrought on the pavement of the cecus a superb lion
foreshortened - much worn away, indeed, but marvellous for vigor and boldness. In the triclinium another
mosaic  represented Acratus, the Bacchic genius,
astride of a panther; lastly the piece in the exsedra,
the finest that exists, is counted among  the most
precious specimens of ancient art. It is the famous
battle of Arbelles or of Issus. A squadron of Greeks,
already victorious, is rushing upon the Persians; Alexander is galloping at the head of his cavalry. He has
lost his helnet in the heat of the charge, his horses'
manes:stand erect, and his long spear hlas pierced the
leader of the enemy. The Persians, overthrown and
routed, are turning to flee; those who immediately
surround Darius, the vanquished king, think of nothing but their own safety; but Darius is totally forgetful of himself. His hand extended toward his dying




192         TIE WONDERS OF POMPEaI.
general, he turns his back to the flying rabble and
seems to invite death. The whole scene- the headlong rush of the one army, the utter confusion of the
other, the chariot of the King wheeling to the front,
the rage, the terror, the pity expressed, and all this
profoundly felt and clearly rendered — strikes the
beholder at first glance and engraves itself upon his
memory, leaving there the imperishable impression
that masterpieces in art can alone produce. And yet
this wonderful work was but the flooring of a saloon!
The ancients put their feet where we put our hands,
says an Englishman who utters but the simple truth.
The finest tables in the palaces at lNaples were cut
from the pavements in the houses at Pompeii.
It was in the same dwelling that the celebrated
bronze statuette of the Dancing Faun was found. It
has its head and arms uplifted, its shoulders thrown
back, its breast projecting, every muscle in motion,
the whole body dancing. An accompanying piece,
however, was lacking to this little deity so full of
spring and vigor, and that piece has been exhumed by
recent excavations, in quite an humble tenement. It
represents a delicate youth, full of nonchalance and




AT IN POrOPEH.               193
grace, a Narcissus hearkening to the musical echo in
the distance. IHis head leans over, his ear is stretched
to listen, his finger is turned in the direction whence
he hears the sound —his whole body listens. Placed
near each other in the lnuseum, these two bronzes
would make Pagans of us were religion but an affair
of art.*
Then the mere wine-merchants of a little ancient
city adorned their fountains with treasures like these!
Others have been found, less precious, perhaps, but
charming, nevertheless; the fisherman in sitting postuIre at the small mosaic fountain; the group representingcr   ercules holding a stag bent over his knee;
a diminutive Apollo leaning, lyre in hand, against
a pillar; an aged Silenus carrying a goat-skin of
wine; a pretty Venus arranging her moistened tresses;
a  ulllting Diana, etc.; without counting the HIermes
and the double busts, one among the rest comprising
the two heads of a male and female Faun full of
intemperance  and  coarse gayety.'Tis true  that
everything is not perfect in these sculptures, par* Recently, Signor Fiorelli has found another bronze statuette of
a bent and crooked Silenus worth both the others.
17




194          THIE WONDERS OF P.BOPEII.
ticularly in the marbles. The statues of Livia, of
Drusus, and of Eumachia, are but moderately good;
those discovered in the temples, such as Isis, 13acchus,
Venlus, etc., have not come down from the Parthenon.
The decline of taste makes itself apparent in the
latest ornamentation of the tombs and edifices, and
the decorative work of the houses, the marble embellishments; and, above all, those executed in stucco
become overladen and tawdry, heavy and labored,
toward the last. Nevertheless, they reveal, if not
a great esthetic feeling, at least that yearning for
elegance which entered so profoundly into the manners of the ancients. WVith us, in fine, art is never
anythilng  but a superfluity —something unfamiliar
and foreign that comes in to us from  the outside
when we are wealthy.  O(ur paintings and  our
sculptures do not make part and parcel of our
houses. If we have a Venus of 3Milo on our mantelclock, it is not because we worship beauty, nor that,
to  our view, there  is the  slightest connection
between the mother of the Graces and the hour of
the day. Venus finds herself very much out of her




ART lN POMPEII.             195
element there; she is in exile, evidently. On the
other hand, at Pompeii she is at home, as Saint
Genevieve once was at Paris, as Saint Januarius
still is at Naples. She was the venerated patroness
whose protection they invoked, whose anger they
feared. "May the wrath of the angry Pompeian
Venus fall upon him!" was their form  of imprecation. All these well-known stories of gods and
demigods who throned it on the walls, were the
fairy tales, the holy legends, the thousand-timesrepeated narratives that delighted the Pompeians.
They had no need of explanatory programmes when
they entered their domestic museums. To find something resembling this state of things, we should have
to go into our country districts where there still
reigns a divinity of other days-Glory — and admiringly observe with what religious devotion coarse
lithographs of the "Old Flag," and of the "Little
Corporal," are there retained and cherished. There,
and there only, our modern art has infused itself
into the life and manners of the people. Is it
equal to ancient art?




196          TIIE WONDERS OF POIPEII.
If, from painting and sculpture, we descend to in.
ferior branches, - if, as we tried to do in the house of
Pansa, we despoil the museum so as to restore their
inmates to the homes of Pompeii, and put back in its
place the fine candelabra with the carved panther
bearing away the infant Pacchus at full speed; the
precious scwJplus, in which two centaurs take a bevy
of little Cupids on their cruppers; that other vase on
which Pallas is standing erect in a car,leaning on her
spear; the silver saucepan, - there were such in those
days, — the handle of which is secured by two birds'
heads; the simple pair of scales — they carved scales.
tlhen! - where one sees the half bust of a warrior
wearing a splendid helmet; in fine, the humblest
articles, utensils of lowest use, nay, even simple earthenware covered with graceful ornaments, sometimes
exquisitely worked; - were we to go to the museum at
Naples and ask what the ancients used instead of the
hideous boxes in which we shut up our dead, and there
behold this beautiful urn which looks as though it
were incrusted with ivory, and which has upon it in
bas-relief carved masks enveloped in  complicated




A~rT IN POOMEII.             197
vine-tendrils twisted, laden with clusters of grapes,
intermingled with other foliage, tangled all up in rollicking arabesques, forming rosettes, in the midst of
which birds are seen perching, and leaving but two
spaces open where children dear to Bacchus are plucking  grapes or treading  them  under foot, trilling
stringed lyres, blowing on double flutes or tumbling
about and snappin.g their fingers — the urn itself in
blue glass and the reliefs in white —for the ancients
lknew how to carve glass,- ah! undoubtedly, in surveying all these marvels, we should be forced to concede that the citizen in old times was at least, as
nm1uchl of an artist as lie is to-day. This was because
in those times no barrier was erected between the
citizen and the artist. There were no two opposing
camps - on one side the Philistines, and on the other
tile people of God. There was no line of distinction
between the needful and the superfluous, between the
positive and the ideal. Art was daily bread, and not
holiday pound-cake; it made its way everywhere; it
illuminated, it gladdened, it perfumed  everything.
It did not stand either outside of or above ordinary
life; it was the soul and the delight of life; in a word,
17*




198             TIlE WONDEIRS OF POMPEII.
it penetrated it, and was penetrated by it;, -- it lived i
This is what these modest ruins teachl.
* A badly interpreted inscription on the gate of Nola had led, for
a moment, to the belief that the importation of this singular worship dated back to the early days of the little city; but we now
know that it was introduced by Sylla into the Roman world. Isis
was Nature, the patroness of the Pompeians, who venerated her
equally in their physical Venus. This form of religion, mysterious,
symbolical, full of secrets hidden from the people, as it was; these
goddesses with heads of dogs, wolves, oxen, hawks; the god Onion,
the god Garlic, the god Leek; all that Apuleius tells about it, besides the data furnished by the Pompeian excavations, the recovered bottle-brushes, the basins, the knives, the tripods, the cymbals, the cithere, etc., — were worth the trouble of examination
and study.
Upon the door of the temple, a strange inscription announced
that Numerius Popidius, the son of Numerius, had, at his own expense, rebuilt the temple of Isis, thrown down by an earthquake,
and that, in reward for his liberality, the decurions had admitted
him gratuitously to their college at the age of six years. The antiquaries, or some of them, at least, finding this age improbable,
have read it sixty instead of six, forgetting that there then existed
two kinds of decurions, the orniamentaril and pro3textat — the honorary and the active officials. The former might be associated
with the Pompeian Senate in recompense for services rendered by
their fathers. An inscription found at Misenum confirms this fact.
(See the.lenzorie del l'Academia Ercolanese, anino  1833) —The
minutes of the Herculaneum Academy, for the year 1833.




VIII.
THE T I-I EATRES.
NE ARRANGEMENT OF THE PLACES OF AMUSEMENT. — ENTRANCE TICKETS. — Trr
VELARIUM, THE ORCHESTRA, THE STAGE. -TIIE ODEON. -THE HOLCONII. -
THE SIDE SCENES, THE MASIRS. -THE ATELLAN FARCES. -THE MIMES. -JUGGLERS, ETC. -A REMIARK OF CICERO ON THE MELODRAMAS. -THE BARRACK OF
THE GLADIATORS. - SCRATCHED INSCRIPTIONS, INSTRUMENTS OF TORTURE. -THE
POMPEIAN GLADIATORS. - THE AMPHITHEATRE: HUNTS, COMBATS, BUTCHERIES,
ETC.
WVE are now goinog to rest ourselves at the theatre.
Pompeii  had  two  such  places of  amusement, one
tragic and the other comic, or, rather, one large and
one smaller, for that is the only positive difference
existing  between  them;  all  else  on  that point is
pure  hypothesis.  Let us, then, say the  large  and
small  theatre, and  we  shall  be  sure  to  make  no
mistakes.
The  grand  saloon  or body  of  the large  theatre
formed  a  semicircle, built against an  embankment
so that the tiers of seats ascended  from  the pit to
the  topmost  gallery,  without  resting. on  massive
(199)




200          TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
slabstructures. In this respect it was of Greek colstruction. The four upper tiers resting  upon  an
arched corridor, in the Roman style, alone reached
the height on which stood the triangular Forum
and the Greek temple. Thus, you can step directly
from the level of the street to the highest galleries,
from  which  your gaze, ranging  above the stage,
can sweep the country and the sea, and at the same
moment plunge far below  you  into that sort of
regularly-shaped ravine in which once sat five thousand Pompeians eager for the show.
At first glance, you discover three main divisions;
these are the different ranks of tiers, the ccavece.
Thllere are three cavem —the lowermost, the middle, and the upper ones. The lowermost was considered the most select. It comprised only the four
first rows of benches, or seats, which were broader
and not so high as the others. These were the
places reserved for magistrates and other eminent
persons. Thither they had their seats carried and
also the 6isdl'ia, cr benches for two persons, on
wzhich they alone had- the right to sit. A low wall,
rising behind the fourth range and surmounted with




THIE TIHEATRES.             201
a marble rail that has now disappeared, separated
this lowermost cavea from the rest. The duumviri,
the deeurions, the augustales, the wodiles, IIolconius,
Cornelius REufus, and Pansa, if he was elected, sat
there majestically apart from common mortals. The
middle division was for quiet, every-day, private citizens, like ourselves. Separated into wedge-like corners
(cmtnei) by six flights of steps cutting it in as many
places, it comprised a limited number of seats marked
by slight lines, still visible. kA ticket of admission
(a tesserc6 or domino) of bone, earthenware, or
bronze -a sort of counter cut in almond or cn pigeon
shape, sometimes too in the form of a ring. —indicated
exactly the cavea, the corner, the tier, and the seat
for the person holding it. Tessarm of this kind
have been found on vwhich were Greek and Roman
characters (a proof that the Greek would not have
been understood without translation). Upon one of
them is inscribed the name of Esclhylus, in the genitive; and hence it has been inferred that his "Prometheus" or his "Persians" must have been played
on the Pompeian stage, unless, indeed, this genitive
designated one of the wedge-divisions marked out




202          TIlE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
by the name or the statue of the tragic poet. Others
have mentioned one of these counters that announced
the representation of a piece by Plautus, - the Casin:t; but I can assure you that the relic is a forgery,
if, indeed, such a one ever existed.
You should, then, before entering, provide yourself
with a real tessera, which you may purchase for very
little money. Plautus asked that folks should pay an
cas apiece. "Let those," he said, "who have not got it
retire to their homes."  The price of the seats was
proclaimed aloud by a crier, who also received the
money, unless the show was gratuitously offered to the
populace by some magistrate who wished to retain
public favor, or some candidate anxious to procure it.
-You handed in your ticket to a sort of usher, called
the designator, or the locarius, who pointed out your
seat to you, and, if required, conducted you thither.
You could then take your place in the middle tier, at
the top of which was the statue of MIarcus Ilolconius
Rufus, duumvir, military tribune, and patron of the
colony. This statue had been set up there by order
of the decurions. The holes hollowed in the pedestal




TIIE THEAMTIES.              203
by tile nails that secured the marble feet of the statue
are still visible.
Fillally, at the sunmmit of the hlalf-iloon awas the
uppermost cav-ea, assigned to the common herd and
the women. So, after all, we are somewhat ahead of
the Romans in  gallantry. Railings separated this
tier from thle one we sit in, so as to prevent " the low
rabble" from  invading the seats occupied by us respectable men of substance. Upon the wall of the
people's gallery is still seen the ring that held theU pole
of the velarilutn. This velarium w, as an awnincg that
vwas stretched above the heads of the spectators to protect them from the sun. In earlier times the Romans
had scouted at this innovation, whiclh they called a
piece of Campanian effemin acy. But little by little,
increasing luxury reduced the Puritans of Rome to
silence, and they willingly accepted a velarium of silk
-- aln homage of Coesar. iero, -who carried everything to excess, Ywent further: he caused a velarium of
purple to be embroidered with gold. Caligula frequently amused lhimself by suddenly withdrawing this
movable shelter and leaving the naked heads of the
spectators exposed to tlle beating rays of the sun.




'20-:     THE WVONDERS OF PI'OMPEII.
But it seems that at Pompeii the wind frequently prevented the hoisting of the canvas, and so the poet
Martial tells us that he will keep on his hat.
SuclL was the arranmgement of the main body of the
house. Let us now descend to the orchestra, which,
in the Greek theatres, was set apart for the dancing of
the choirs, but in the Roman theatres, was reserved for
the great dignitaries, and at Rome itself for the prince,
the vestals, and the senators.  I hlave somewhere
read that, in the great city, the foreign ambassadors
were excluded from these places of honor because
among them could be found the sons of freedmen.
Would you like to go up on the stage?  lRaised
about five feet above tlhe orchestra. it was broader than
ours, but not so deep. The personagtej of the antique
repertory did not swell to such numbers as in our
fairy spectacles. Far from it. The stage extended
between a proscenium or front, stretching out upon the
orchestra by means of a wooden platform, which has
disappeared, and the postsceniumn  or side scenes.
There was, also, a hAyoscenium or subterranean part
of the theatre, for the scene-shifters and machinists.
The curtain or sipcarium (a Roman invention) did not




THE THEATRES.                205
rise to the ceiling as with us, but, on the contrary,
descended so as to disclose the stage, and rolled
together underground, by means of ingenious processes which Mazois has explained to us. Thus, the
curtain fell at the beginning and rose at the end of
the piece.
You are aware that in ancient drama the question
of scenery was greatly simplified by the rule of the
unity of place. The stage arrangement, for instance,
represented the palace of a prince. Therefore, there
was no canvas painted at the back of the stage; it
was built up. This decoration, styled the scena stabilis,
rose as high as the loftiest tier in. the theatre, and
was of stone and marble in the Pompeian edifice. It
represented a magnificent wall pierced for three doors;
in the centre was the royal door, where princes
entered; on the right, the entrance of the household
and females; at the left, the entrance for guests and
strangers. These were matters to be fixed in the
mind of the spectator. Between these doors were
rounded and square niches for statues. In the sidescenes, was the moveable decoration (scena ductilis),
which was slid in front of the bacl-piece in case of.
18




206           TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
a chanlge of scene, as, for instance, when playing the
Ajax of Sophocles, where the place of action is transferrred from  the Greek camp to the shores of the
IIellespont. Then, there were other side-scenes not
of much account, owing to lack of room, and on each
iwino a turning piece with three broad flats representing, tllhree different subjects. There were square niches
in the walls of the proscenium either for statnues or for
policemen to keep an eye on the spectators.  Such,
stated inl a few lines and in libretto style, was the
stage in ancient times.
I confess that I have a preference for the smaller
tllheatre which has been called the Odeon. Is that
because, possibly, tragedies were never played there?
Is it becausc this establishment semns more complete
and in better preservation, thankls 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 valls by the populace waiting to
secure admission as they passed slowly in, one after




== —=~==--;- —----=- —: — —  —-----------—; ___ —1 —-— _=-;;L==__-=- __
 — — ------------—; __ —-—;;I-LI; —— : —-Z_
-TIII-Z-;-;-'=-j--`I' —_-L _T__=;_-=-;=-_-_~-;=1-.____ _ — =
---— _7- —-T-I-_ —~___L-=I--=_l_~;-l _ ____;_;;;-;=_L_=_-_=_-_-==~ — -; — _T.
T-I==-Z_--=-_-= 7-:
I i - — —--             illi:i
r I.u~l~'c~?L1'
+-
3
' tittWBi~RRI;`YBi
_1 I /..:lIL!llllllllnIIUtR-rlll_;
"-'--.1
iii
C3
R_.. -
-;.-irYLYa"''IIIPBPURn;YYW
c-s
The Smaller Theatrt! at Pompeii.








TIIE TIIEATRZES.              207
the other. A lengthy file of gladiators had carved
their names also upon the -walls, along with an enumeration of their v-ictories; barbarian slaves, and some
freedmen, likewise, lad left their marks. These probably constituted the audience that occupied the upper
most seats approached by the higher vomitories.  On
tile other land, there were no lateral vomitories.  Thle
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 w, ere separated from the middle cavea by a parapet of marble terminating in vigorously-carved lion's
pavWs. Among these  carvings we may particulally
note a crouching Atlas, of short, thick-set form, sustaining on his shllolders and his arms, vwhich are doubled
behind him, a marble slab which was once the stand of
a vase or candlestick.  This athletic effort is violently
rendered by thle artist.  Above the orchestra ran the
tr'ibzcaliac, remindingl    us of our mnodern 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 have




208         TIHE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
inspected.  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 RIoman 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 toolk
their places. It was necessary, then, to protect them
from the mud and the dust in which the spectators
ccoupying the upper tiers had been walking.
The number of rangles 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:
"M31. Olconius M. F. Vervs, Pro Ludis."
This Olconius or IIolconius was the Marquis of
Carabas of Pompeii. Ilis name may be read everywhere in the streets, on the monuments, and on the




THE THEATRES.               209
walls of the houses. We have seen already that the
fruiterers wanted him for,mdile. We have pointed
out the position of his statue in the theatre. We
know by inscriptions that le was not the only illustrious member of his family. There were also a Mfarcus
IHolconius Celer, a Marcus Ilolconius Rufus, etc.
YWere 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. i3ut Ilolconius is the one most conspicuous of them all; so, hats off to IIolconius!
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 jew18*




210           TIIE VWONDERnS OF POMPEII.
cller), shows us a scenic representation: in it we
observ-e the cloragyus, surrounded by masks and other
accessories (The choragus was the manager and director); lie is making two actors, got up as satyrs, rehearse
their parts; behind theIn, another comedian, assisted by
a costumer of some kind, is trying to put on a yellow
garment which is too small for hli. 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 (or
hegemonus), 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 slkin covered with pimples,
with enormous ears, and short hair frizzed in snakyl
ringlets; that of the bearded, furious, staring, and sinister old mall; 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 Mac



TI-E THEAiTRES.            211
ens was only some seven or eight leagues distant from
Piompeii, and numerous interests and business connections united the inhabitants of the two places. I
h1ave frequently stated that the Oscan language, il
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 intermin gled -with these pieces, and the confusion of the
two idioms was an exhaustless source of:vitticisms,
puns, and bulls of all kinds, that must have afforded
HIomeric laughlter to the plebeians of Pompeii. The
longshoremen of Naples, in our day, seek exactly
similar effects in the admixture of pure Italian and
the local pctois. The titles of some of the Atellian
farces are still extant: "Pappus, the Doctor Shown
Out," "3Maccls Married," "Mlaccus 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 Venetianl




2'12         THIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
Pantaloon; iliandacus, 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 aungustals. the oediles
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, — al) 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 comedy




TH1E THEAT1RES.             213
by that author which in no wise shocks our susceptibilities. You can also fill the stage with mimes and pantornimists, for the favor accorded to that class of actors
under the emperors is well known. The Coesars  -I
am speaking of the Romans — someNwhat 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 ItRonans." (Charles MIlagnin.)
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 performers




214            WONDEES OF FPOETlI.
existed 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. "H low
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?
AWe 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 realityin fine, Punchinello's comedy. We prefer Moliere; but
how many things there are in Moliere which come in
a direct line from Maceus!
It is time to leave the tleatre. I have said that the
Odeon opened into the gladiators' barracks. These
barraclks form  a spacious court —a sort of cloister
— surrounded  by seventy-four pillars, unfortunately
spoiled by the Pompeians of the restoration period.




TI-E THEATRES.             215
They topped them with nell   capitals of stucco notoriously ill adapted to thenm. This gallery was surrounded with curious dwellings, amocng which was a
prison where three skeletons were found, Nwith their.
legs fastened in irons of ingeniously cruel device.
The instrument in question may be seen at the musecum. It looks like a prostrate ladder, in which the
limbs of the prisoners were secured tightly between
short and narrow runls - 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 Vesnvius 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 Pompeii




216            WONDERS OF POMPEII.
because 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 pecunia.s, fr es Torque, Rustico
feliciter! etc. Others proved clearly that the place
was inhabited by gladiators: inlzcdtus Velius (that is to
say not in tlhe game, out of the ring) his victor libertus- leonibus, victor  Veneriparmam 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 PomponIius 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, especially




THE THEATRES.               217
in 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 sucll an artist in decapitation (decollandi
acrt/fex) was the subject of remark and compliment.
Al1, those were the grand arges!
As the reader also Lnows, 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 armlies 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. HIowever,
these colmbats had gradually ceased to be penalties
and punishments, and soon were nothing but bar
barons spectacles, violent pantomimic performances,
like those which England and Spain have not yet
1been able to suppress. The troops of mercenary
fighters slaughtered  each other in the arenas to
amuse the Romans (not to  render them  warlike)
19




218          THIE WONDERS OF POMIPII.
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 tile arena, were only Romans in disguise.
Tllese sllows became more and more varied; they
were diversified withl hunts (vecationes), in  which
wild beasts foughlt with each other or against 7)estiarii, 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.  Imafgine  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 the




TilE TII'ATl'ES.             219
population.  The walls are full of inscriptions con
cerning them; the bathing establishments, the inns,
and tle disreputable haunts, transmit their names to
posterity.  The citizens, their wives, and even their
children admired them. In the house of Procullus,
at no great height above tile 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. IIis
hlelmet wras found there. So, tlhen, 1he was the guest
of the family, and IIeaven kenows how they feasted
himn, 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 rn.t yet
been uncovered, and through vineyards and orchards,
until, in a cornier 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 amplhitheatre 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 of




220          TIIE WONDERS OF POMIPEII.
steps ascending to the top of the structure. Tile
arena was so called because of the layer of sand
which covered it and ilmbibed 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. 3Both 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 camne 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 the spoliatoriuzn, 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, above




__:::~~~~~_~~-~ ~; —-i ~.......
~~; —~~-~ ~-~.........................~....
~ti~ i~~~~~~~l!....  ~     ~     ~     ~    -~
~_     ~~~~ ~~....    ~_...~:tlI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i.....
The Amphitheatre of Pompeii








THE THEATRES.              221
which 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.
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, M1. 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 fiveyear 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
imen, and very fond of public shows. We know that
19*




222           TIIE WONDERS OF POMIPEII.
they contributed, in like manner, to the construction
of the Odeon.
Would you now like to go over the general sweep
of the tiers —the visorium?  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 mance-uvres 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 thle arena and conducted,
by a great number of distinct stairways, to the tiers
of the lower and middle cavea, while upper stairways




THE THEATRES..223
enabled 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 rlegulus, 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
fLr the space of ten years. A caricature which recalls
this punishment has been found in the Street of Mer.




224         THE WONDERS OF POMtPEII.
cury. It represented an armed gladiatort 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." "
The hand of Rome, ever the hand of Rome!
For that matter, the ordinances relating to the
anmphitheatre 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 you like to
have a hunt or a gladiatorial combat?  I-ere I invent
* M. Campfleury has reproduced this design in his very curious
book on Antique Caricature




THE THEATRES.              225
nothing. 1 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 young bestiarius, who holds two javelins in
his lhands. A man, armed with a long lance, irritates
the blll 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 hlis 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
a vcnatio much more dramatic in its character. The




226         THE WONDERS OF POMPEI.
nude 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 ftugitive wild boar and
biting hlim; and, in this ferocious menagerie, peopled
with lions and panthers, txvwo-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 31;. 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;




TIHE THEATRES.              227
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 the cu2rion, 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 ringmaster, 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 and




228         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
slaves 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. Tho
blood is flowing from his arm, which he extends toward the spectators, at the same time raising his
thumb. That wvs 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 cllarging 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.




TIE TIEATEES.               229
Would you prefer a still more singular kind of
duel - one between a secutor and a retiarius?  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, Ilippolytus by name, who has survived five
previous victories, has come up. IIippolytns 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 his
20




230         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
shield behind him, is thinking only how he may man.
age 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; the dimnachoerus, 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, a




TllI T11EATI ES.            ~31
slave harpooned them with a hook, and dragged them
througl the mire of sand and blood to the narrow cor.
ridor, the portc 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.




IX.
THE ERUPTION.
rHE DELUGE OF ASHES. -THE DELUGE OF FIRE. -THE FLIGHT OF THE POMIPEIANS.
-THE PREOCCUPATIONS OF THE POMPEIAN WOMEN. -THE VICTIMS: THE FAMILY OF DIOMED; THE SENTINEL; THE WOMAN WALLED UP IN A TOMB; THE PRIEST
OF ISIS; THE LOVERS CLINGING TOGETHER, ETC. -TIIE SKELETONS. -THE DEAD
BODIES MOULDED BY VESUVIUS.
IT  was tluring  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 scorim 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 whirlwind
(232)




THE ERUPTION.               233
of 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 ona 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. IHowever,
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 in
20*




231          THE WONDERS OF PrMPEII.
heaps on the roofs and breaks through into the hlouses
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 th, 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 ares. A
woman in the atrium  attached to the house of the
Faun ran wildly as chance directed, laden with jew.




THE ERUPTION.              235
elry; 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 foward with his feet
turned toward the Ilerculaneum gate; another on his
back, with his arms uplifted. lHe bore in his hands
one hundred and twenty-seven silver coins and sixtynine 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 IIerculaneum 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,




236          THE WONDERS OF POPEII.
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. HIe
fell, struck down by the stifling gases, in front of his
own garden. IHow 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 Thermme; both were young, and they were




THE ERUIPTION.               237
tightly 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 oi
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 an




238         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
eclipse. The  whole scene  around us was trans.
formed; the ashes, like a heavy snow, covered every.
thing."
This vast shroud was not lifted until in the last century, and the exca-vations 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 colbnnades 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 it 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 illustrating








(I:                                                                             I I
b-F~~~~: ~  w
d~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ACI
~~~~~Bde  fPmeiiscs  nteAbs




THEI ERIUPTION.            239
some poignant episode of the immense catastrophe in
which they were smitten down!
IRecently, 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.  Ie 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 certain




240         THE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
places 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.




THr  ERUPION.              241
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.
21




2 52        TIIE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
You see the bones of her fingers penetrating the plaster. iHer cranium is shining and smooth, her legs are
raised backlward 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
miore than fifteen years of age.
The fourth body is that of a man, a sort of colossus.
lie 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. IIe wears an iron ring on the
bone of one finger; his mouth is open, and some of
his teeth are missing; his nose anid 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 mall,
fearless in the midst of the luins that are crushing
him - imnpav;dummferient ruinwe.




ThE ERUPTION.                243
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.








ITINERARY.








AN ITINERARY.
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 o: 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.  See chap. II.                       \
The monuments of the Forum are as follows. I have italici~ed
the most curious:
The Basilica.         See chap. Ii.
The Temple of Venus.
The Curia, or Council Hall.'
The Edifice of Eumachia. 
The Temple of Mercury.
The Temple of Jupiter.     "
The Senate Chamber.
The Pantheon.'
From the Forum, you will go toward the north, passing by the
Arch of Triumph; visit the Temple of Fortune (see chap. v. ), and
stop at the Thermae (see chap. v.).
On leaving the Thermme, pass through t-e entire north-west of the
city, that is to say, the space comprised between the streets of Fortune and of the Therme and the walls. In this space are comprised
the following edifices:
247




248            TItE WONDERS OF POMPEII.
The  Muse of Pansa. See chap. vI.
The House of the Tragic Poet. Chap. vIL
The Fuqllonica. Chap. III.
The lMosaic Fountains. Chap. vII.
The House of Adonis. Chap. vII.
The House of Apollo.
The House of Meleager.
The House of the Centaur.
Thoe House of Castor and Polhuam. Chap. vzi
The House of the Anchor.
The House of Polybius.
The House of the Academy of 3Music.
Th!e Bakery. See chap. III.
The House of Saltust. Chap. vII.
The Public Oven.
A Fountain. Chap. III.
The House of the Dancing Girls.
The Perfumery Shop. Chap II.
The House of Three Stories.
The Custom House. Chap. Iv.
The House of the Surgeon. Chap. IIL
The House of the Vestal Virgins.
The Shop of Albinus.
The Thermopolium. Chap. IiI.
Thus you arrive at the Walls and at the Gate of Herculaneum,
beyond which the Street of the Tonmbs opens and the suburbs de.
velop. All this is described in chap. Iv.
Here are the monuments in the Street of the Tombs:
The Sentry Box.                See Chap. Iv.
The Tomb of Mamia.'~
The Tomb of Ferentius.              "
The Sculptor's Atelier.             i
The Tomb with the Wreaths.
The Public Bank.                    "
The House of the Mosaic Columns. "
The Villa of Cicero.
The Tomb of Scaurus.




AN ITINERARY.                    249
The Round Tomb.                    See Chap. Iv.
The Tomb with the MIarble Door.          "'
The Tomb of Libella.                     "
The Tomb of Calventius.                  "
ThUe Tomb of Nevolela Tyc. i.
The ~Funereal Triclinium.                "
The Tomb of Labeo.
The Tombs of the Arria Family.    "
77The Villa of Diomed.
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 Fliaun. 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 Louse of te H unt. Chap. vii.
You thus reach the place where the Street of Stabixa 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 the Nola Gate, which is worth seeing. See chap. Iv.
The Street of Stabire marks the limit reached by the excavations.
To the left, in going down, you will find the handsome House of
Lucretius. See chap. 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 the Street of Stabira you will cross
the open fields, above the part of the city not yet cleared, as far as
the Amphitheatre. See chap. viii.
Then, retracing your steps and intersecting the Street of StabiLe,
you enter a succession of streets, comparatively wide, which will
lead you back to the Forum. You will there find, on your right,




250             TIlIE WOINDERS OF POMPEII.
the Iot Baths of Stabie. See chap. v. On your left is the Ifouse
of Cornelius ilfaus and that of Proculus, recently discovered. See
chap. vIr.
There now remains for you to cross the Street of Abundaxnce at
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. See chap. vir.
The Curia Isiaca.
The Temple of Hercules. Chap. vir.
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.












Miarkles ~icribnct &  (o.,
654 Broadway, New York,
HAVE JUST COMMENCED THE PUBLICATION OP
Ep  Ilusltraleb Xlitrarg if mnbpFrs.
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 fa&t 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 subjeas are treated of, with careiul accuracy, and with the purpose of embodying the latest discoveries and
intentions, 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 TIHE 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 ILLUS
TRATED LIBRARY OF WONDERS will be found unexcelled.
The following volumes of the series have been published:



2              1/bllstrated Library  of l[tonders.
optical  Uon~ jr.0
THE WONDERS OF OPTICS.-By F. MARION.
Illustrated with over seventy engravings on wood, many of
them  full-page, and a colored frontispiece.  One volume, 12mo.
Price. -.                                                    $I 50
For specimen illustration see page 81.
In the Wonders 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 exrlanations 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 conveving much useful scientihc information in a popula,
mnanner."-Phila. Northl A merscan.
"Thoroughly admirable, and as an introdu&ion to this science for the general reader,
leaves hardly anything to be desired." —N. I' Evening Post.
"Treats in a charming, but scientific and exhaustive manner, the wonderful subjie of,ptics."-Clcveland Leaaier.
" All the marvels of light and of optical illusions are made clear." —. Y. Oser-ver.
gutrtr  anv  at t ntufnf.
THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. By W. DF FoN
VIELLE.  Illustrated with 39 Engravings on wood, nearly
all full-page.  One volume. I2mo..    $I 5C
For specimen illustrationa see page 14.
7 hunder and Lightning, as its title indicates, deals with the most startling phenomena of nature.  The writings of the author, Mi. 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




Illustrated  Library   of  IYonders.                       3
often observed and spoken of, over which he appears to throw quite a new
light.  The different kinds of lightning-forked, globular, and sheet light
ning-are described; numerous instances of the effets produced by this wonderful agency are very graphically narrated; and thirty-nine engravings, nearly
all full-page, illustrate the text most effedively.  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 book 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 catll
fail to be interested in it." —V. Y. Herald.
" Any boy or girl who wants to read strange stories and see curious pictures of the doings of electricitv, had better get these books." —Our 1oung Folks.
"A volume which cannot fail to attr.& attention and awaken interest in persons who
have not been accustomed to give the subject any tho:lght"-Daily Register (Nevs,
i[aven).
7Ltat.
THE WONDERS OF HEAT. By ACHILLE CAZIN.
With go illustrations, many of them  full-page, anti a colored
frontispiece. One volume, I2mo.                                        $I 50
For specinzen illustrat'ion see gage I i.
In the Wonders of Heatc the 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 elecqricity, between heat and cold, and the comparative effets of
each, are discussed; and incidentally, interesting accounts are given of the
motle of formation of glaciers, of Montgolfier's balloon, of Davy's safetylamp, of the methods of glass-blowing, anti of numerous other facds 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 to t-.A very last page the interest is all-absorbing." —Azlany Evening
Tinte:.
" The book deserves, as it will doubtless attain, a wide circulation."-Pittsbure- Chro,.
St L.




4             Illustrated  Library  of  Wondecrs.
"T'his book is instrutive and clear."-Indefiendent.
" It describes and explains the wonders of heat in a manner to be clearly understood by
non-scientific readers."-Phzila. Inquirer.
ntmal  *nteiliuetnte.
THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS, WITH
ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES.-From  the French of ERNEST
MENAULT.  With 54 illustrations.  One volume, I2mo.    $1 50
For sScczmen illustration set tage I6.
In this very interesting volume there are grouped together a great number of faas and anecdotes colleAted 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 vol.
ume singularly attractive.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"May be recommended as very entertaining."-London A thenzeum.
"' The stories are of real value to those who take any interest in the curious habits of
arimals."-R'ochester Democrat.
EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO; OR, RAIMESES T1HE
GREAT.  By F. DE LANOYE.  With 40 illustrations.  One
volume, I2mo... I 50
For ste'cimen illustration see nage 17.
This voltumi n, devoted to the wonders of Ancient Egypt during the time
of the Pharaohs and under Sesostris, the period of its greatest splendor and
magnificence.  Iler 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 attraAtive 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 subje~t which possesses all the charms of
novelty to the great number of readers, it has the substantial merit of dis.
cussing, with intelligence and careful accuracy, one of the greatest epochs
in the woild's history.




Ilustra/ed Library  of Iontders.                           5
CRITICAL NOTICES.
" I think thi3 a good book for the purpose ftr 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."YA,IES C. MOFFA T, Professor iz Princeton Theological Seminaary.
"The volume is full of wonders."-Ilarrford Courrazt.
" Evidently prepared with great care."-Chicago Evening 7ournal.
" Not merely the curious in antiquarian matters will find this volume attra/live, but the
general reader will be pleased, entertained, and informed by it."-Portlazl,1 Arguas.
"The work possesses the freshness and charm of romance, and cannot fail to repay all
who glance over its pages."-Philadeljhia City Item.
gtre at t            ntt.
ADVENTURES ON THE GREAT HUNTING
GROUNDS OF THE WORLD. By VICTOR MEUNIER.
Illustrated with 22 woodcuts.  One volume I2mo..                   $I 50
For sAecimt;e  illuzstration see.nage I8.
Besides numerous thrilling adventures judiciously selecled, 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 instru6ive in a remarkable degree.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
" This is a very attra6t?ve volume in this excellent series."-Cleveland tHerald.
" Cannot fail to prove entertaining to the juvenile reader."-A lbion.
" The adventures are gathered from the histories of famous travellers and explorers, a nd
have the merit of.truth as well as interest."-N. Y. Observer.
" Just the book for boys during the coming Winter evenings."-Boston Daily Yournal.
o mpOii.R
W  l  ONDERS OF POM[PEII.  By MARC MONNIER.
With 22 illustrations.  One volume I2mo.                   $1 50
For specimen illustration see fiage I9.
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.




6                llustrated  Libraary  6/  II/ondt'L s.
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 instruffive book."-Balt. Metlh. Prot.
"It gives a very clear and accurate account of the buried city."-Poartland Transc rfit.
ubtiim  in MNature.
THE SUBIMIE IN NATURE, FROM DESCRIPTIONS OF CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS AND
WRITERS.  By FERDINAND LANOYE.  Illustrated with 48 woodcuts. One volume I2mo...                     $I 50
For spfecimen illustration see aage 20.
The Air and Atmospheric Phenomena, the Ocean, Mountains, Volcanic
Phenomena, Rivers, Falls and Catara6ts, Grottoes and Caverns, and the
P'henomena 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 nlost distinguished authors and travellers. The
illustrations, several of which are from  the pencil of GUSTAVE DORA, 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."-1'hiladelp/hia 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. 1- Sunday Times.
je suttn.
THE SUN. By AMEDEE GUILLEMIN. From the French
by T. L. PIIPSON, Ph.D.  W  ith 58 illustrations.   One
volume 2mo.                                                       $1 50
For spjecimen illustration see fage 21.
M. GUILLEMIN'S well-known work upon The'Heavens has secured him
a wide reputation as one of the first of living astronomical writers and observers.  In this compa&  treatise he discourses familiarly but most accurately andl entertainingly of the Sun as the source of light, of heat, and of
chemical action; of its influence upon living leings; of its place in the
Planetary World; of its place in the Sidereal W( rld; of its physical and




I/ustraled  Library  of  Illvontiers.                       7
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
subje6t 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 Trzibune.
" For the first time, the fullest and latest information about the Sun has been comprised
in a single volume."-Phkiladelikia 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 astrona
mical or other scientific technicalities."-Albany Evencing  uozrnl.
" The latest discoveries of science are set forth in a popular and attrattive style."-Porlland Transcriptt.
" Conveys, in a graphic form, the present amount of knowledge in regard to the luminous
centre of our solar system."-Boston Congregationalist.
-la-a=  l aginO.
WONDERS OF GLASS-MIAKING; ITS DESCRIPTION
AND HISTORY FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE
PRESENT.  By A. SAUZAY.  With 63 illustrations on wood.  One
volume 12mo.$. 50
For s/ecimen illustration see Eage 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
manufattured from glass which have, from  their unique chara6Aer, or the
associations conne~qed with them, acquired historical interest.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"All the information which the general reader needs on the subjec will be found here
in a very intelligible and attractive form. "-N., Y. Evening Post.
"Tells about every branch of this curious manufacture, tracing its progress from the remotest ages, and omitting not one point upon which information can be desired."-Boston
l'rst.
"A very useful and interestinlg book' —N. I: Citisn.




8  fzlu             strated  Library of Wonders.
" An extremely pleasant and useful little book." —N. Y. Sunday Times.
" The book will well repay perusal."-N. Y. Globe.
A most interesting volume."-Portland 4 rgus.
" Graphically told."-NV. Y. A lbion.
"Young people and old will derive equal benefit and pleasure from its perusal." —
%r. Y. Ch. Intelligeencer.
talfan art.
W R WONDERS OF ITALIAN ART. By Louis VIARDOT.
With 28 illustrations.  One volume I2mo.    $I 50
For syiecimen illustration see page 23.
As a compa6t, readable, and instructive manual upon a subje6t the exposition of which has heretofore been confined to ambitious and expensive
treatises, this volume has no equal. An style it is clear and attraArive; its
critical estimates are based upon thorough and extensive knowledge and
sound judgment, and the illustrations reproduce, as accurately as wood
engravings can do, the leading works of the famous Italian masters, while
anecdotes of tlese great artists and curious facts regarding their works
give popular interest to the volume.
Ete jLumarn 3Bdod.
lW  ONDERS OF THE HUMAN BODY. From the
French of A. LE PILEUR, DoAor of Medicine.  Illustrated
by 45 Engravings by LEVEILLE.  One volume I2mo.   $I 50
For siecimnen illustration see page 24.
While sufficiently minute in anatomical and physiological details to satisfy
those who desire to go deeper into such studies than many may deem
necessary, this work is nevertheless written so that it may form part of the
domestic library. Mothers and daughters may read it without being repelled or shocked; and the young will find their interest sustained by
incidental digressions to more attractive niatters. Such are the pages referring to phrenology and to music, which accompany the anatomical
description of the skull and of the organs of voice; and the chapter on
artistic expression which closes the book. Numerous simple but attra&ive engravings elucidate the work...




Illustrated Library of Wonders.                  9
rclj etttur.e
ONDERS OF ARCHITECTURE. Translated from
the French of M. LEFEVRE; to which is added a chapter
on English Architeaure by R. DONALD. With 50o illustrations.
One volume I2mo.. 50
For sfecimen illustration see hage 25.
The objeEt of the Wonders of Archilteure is to supply, in as accessible
and popular a form as the nature of the subje& admits, a conneAed and
comprehensive sketch of the chief archite~Iural achievements of ancient
and modern times. Commencing with the rudest dawnings of architedtural
science as exemplified in the Celtic monuments, a carefully compiled and
authentic record is given of the most remarkable temples, palaces, columns,
towers, cathedrals, bridges, viadu&s, churches, and buildings of every
description which the genius of man has constru~6ed; and as these are all
described in chronological order, according to the eras to which they belong,
they form a conneled narrative of the development of archite~6ure, in
which the history and progress of the art can be authentically traced.
Care has been taken to popularize the theme as much as possible, to make
the descriptions plain and vivid, to render the text free from mere techni
calities, and to convey a corre6t and truthful impression of the various
obje6ls that are enumerated.
rteau xptvt u.
OTTOM  OF THE  SEA.  By IL. SONREL.  Translated
and edited by ELIHU  RICH, translator of " Cazin's Heat,"
&c., with 68 woodcuts. (Printed on Tinted Parer) One vol I2mo
$I 50
For s4ecimen illustration see }age 26.
Written in a popular and attra&tive style, this volume affords much useful information about the sea, its depth, color, and temperature; its aRion
in deep water and on the shores; the exuberance of life in the depths of
the ocean, and the numberless phenomena, anecdotes, adventures, and
perils conne&ed therewith.  The illustrations are very numerous, and
specially graphic and attractive.
CRITICAL NOTICE.
This book is well illustrated throughout, and is admirably adapted to thoso who
require light Poientiflo reading.-Naturs.




;  o           _uIZ/ltrated   ibl.inry of IJ,,'.s.
fijtl)ouot  ant afi jtjtfiJ.
lIGHTHOUSES AND LIGHTSHIPS. By AW. H. D.
1     ADAMS.  With  sixty illustrations.   One volume  I2mo.
Printed ona /infedfiafier..    $  50
The aim of this volume is to furnish in a popular and intelligible form a
description of the Lighthouse as it is and as it was, of the rude Roman
pharos, or old sea-tower, with its flickering fire of wood or coal, and the
modern Lighthouse, shapely and yet substantial, with its powerful illuminating apparatus of lamps and lenses, shining ten, or twelve, or twenty miles
across the waters. The author gives a descriptive and historical account of
their mode of construction and organization, based on the best authorities,
and revised by competent critics. Sketches are furnished of the most remarkable Lighthouses in the Old World, and a graphic narration is presented
of the mode of life of their keepers.
CRITICAL NOTICES.
"The book is full of interest."m-N. Y. Commercial Advertiser.
"The whole subject is treated in a manner at once interesting and instructive."Rochester Democrat.
"The illustrations are full, and excellently engraved."-PPhil. Afornin Post.
arou tifc.
THE WONDERS OF ACOUSTICS; or, THE PHENOMEMA OF SOUND.  By R. RADAU.  With I IO illustrations.  One volume I2mo.  Printed on tintedpafier... $  50
For slecimen illustration see pnge 27.
No overweight of technicalities encumber the author's ample and exceedingly instructive disquisition; but by presenting the results of curious investigation, by anecdote, by all manner of striking illustration, and by the aid
of numerous pictures, he throws a popular interest about one of the most
suggestive and beautiful of the sciences. The book opens with an attractive
chapter on " Sound in Nature," in which the language of animals, nocturnal
life in the forests, and kindred subjects are discussed. Among the topics
treated of later in the work are such as "Effects of Sound, on Living
Beings," "Velocity of Sound," "The Notes," "The Voice, Music, and
Science."  This volume forms a valuable addition to the series.




Illustrated Library of IVonders.                 II
3uiovtv strcngta   anti -,swm
ONDERS OF BODILY STRENGTH AND SKIIIL.
Translated and enlarged from  the French of GUILLAUME
DEPPING, by CHARLES RUSSELL.  Illustrated with seventy engravings on wood, many of them full page.                  One vol.
I 2mo. Printed on tinted iaper.                               $ 50
For tsecimen illustration sec 6age 28.
This is decidedly one of the most interesting volumes of the Library of
Wonders.  In it the author has collected, from every available source,
anecdotes descriptive of the most remarkable exhibitions of Physical Strength
and Skill, whqther in the form of individual feats, or of national games, from
the earliest ages down to the present time. The author has simply endeavored to make a collection of " Wonders of Bodily Strength and Skill,"
from the Literature of all countries, and if any of them may be assigned to
the region of the improbable, he most respectfully refers doubting inquirers
to the original sources.  The grace and skill displayed in the illustrations,
which are numerous and striking, make the volume singularly attractive.
alltoon.
RW   WONDERFUL BALLOON ASCENTS, From the
French  of F. MARION.   With thirty illustrations on
wood, many of them full page                    One volume I2mo.
Prizted on tinted fiaper.......  $I 50
For sjecimen illustration see tage 29.
This volume gives an interesting history of balloons and balloon voyages,
written in an exceedingly readable and graphic style, which will commend
itself to the reader.
The history of the balloon is fully narrated, from its first stages up to the
present time, and the most memorable balloon voyages are herein described
in a most thrilling manner. The illustrations are exceedingly taken in character.
CRITICAL NOTICE.
"Written in a popular style and with illustrations that give completeness to the text,......  beautifully illustrated, and will be a fascinating reading book, especially for the
foung.' —Londton Bookscller.




I2              f/ellsh-atea Library  of Yolnders.
ONDERFUL ESCAPES. Revised front the French
of F. BERNARD, and original chapters added by RICHARD
"WHITEISG. With twenty-six full-page plates.
One volume I2mo.  Printed on tinttedfiafier...  $1 50
For specimeun zillustration see age 30o.
This volume of the " Library of Wonders" is an exceedingly interesting
addition to the series, narrating as it does in the most thrilling manner the
wonderful escapes of noted prisoners, political as well as criminal. The
escapes of over forty well known personages are described in this book, and
their history may be relied upon as entirely accurate, obtained from official
sources. Among the characters treated of we may mention Marius, Benvenuto Cellini, Grotius, Cardinal de Retz, Baron Trenck, and Marie de
Medicis. A number of full-page plates picturing the prisoners in the most
fearful moments of their escapes accompany the volume.
Yle  jcauens.
1W1  ONDERS OF THE HEAVENS. By CAMILLE FLAMMARION.  From  the French by Mrs. NORMAN LOCKYER.
With forty-eight illustrations. One volume, I2mo.. $1 50
For specimen illustration see page 32.
M. FLAMMARION is excelled by none in that peculiar tact, which is so rare,
of bringing within popular comprehension the great facts of Astronomical
Science. Familiar illustrations and a glowing and eloquent style, make this
volume one of the most valuable, as it is one of the most comprehensive
manuals extant upon the absorbingly interesting subject of which it treats.
ALSO IN PRESS:
WONDERS OF ENGRAVING,  WONDERS OF VEGETATION,
WONDERS OF SCULPTURE,   THE INVISIBLE WORLD,
ELECTRICITY,                         HYDRAULICS.
Due announcement of the appearance of the above new issues of this series will
be g;iuen hereafter as they approach completion.




-e
o    -
"4 3
to       OMI!51~~~~
$-O
on~~r 
1-4




Illustrated Library  of IWonders.
THUNDER AND LIGHF~NING.
By W. Dx FONVIELLE.
With 39 engravings, nearly all full-page. One volume, zamo, $x 50.
Bell-ringer strmck by Lightning.
For description of booc, see page i.




/llustrated  Library  of Wonders.
THE WONDERS OF HEAT.
By ACHILLE CAZIN.
With go illustrations, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. z2Mo $i 50.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~l I::,i~j
A~
Forl['   do
iiCJ~=~         ~         IZ
For description of book, see page 3.




6                 tIllustrated LJv/ar  of PWonders.
THE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS
WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ANECDOTES.
With 54 illustrations. On, volume, z2mo, $x 50.
SAW___
~ —. —I=
t'ao description oft ook, see pagt 4.




Illustrated Library  of Wonders.                     17
EGYPT 3,300 YEARS AGO.
By F. DE  LANOVE.
With 4o illustrations. One vo'ume, n2mo, $1 5o.
=i_ -
The Sphinx of Rameses II. (according to the Sphinx at the Louvre)
For description of book, see page 4.,1           i U     --;
-- t =17 _\\\~;\ ~ ~nllIiAB /
~ 
_l 
For description of book, se~ page *.




13               fZl//hstrated  Library  of IWonders.
ADVENTURES ON THE
GREAT HUNTING GROUNDS OF THE WORLD.
Illustrated with 22 woodcuts. One volume, i2mo., $I 50.
i bo', p
of book, see page 5.
I    $II$),,                 ~          f\         ~If
If       ('            IIiII                                   f11
1\'~~~~~~~~o bok e ae5




Illustrated  Library  of  Wonders.'9
POMPEII AND THE POMPEIANS.
By MARC MONNIER.
With 3o Illustrations. Onevolume, i2mo, $1 50.
-~~~  ~ zijiii~j/ii 
oL
For description of book, see page
C.'~~~~ I                      -~ ~rul~e      Ir
ao I
u i                                       i.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Ii'                        ______
(3 ~ ~ ~ ~ o  dsrpino bosepg




20             [llustrated  Library  of'onuders.
THE SUBLIME IN NATURE.
From Descriptions of Celebrated Writers and Travellers.
Illustrated with 38 fuil-page engravings. One vol. s2mo. Price, $1 5o.
A GORGE IN THE PYRESNEE
For description of book, see page 5.




A1hustrated Library  of Wonders.                     21
THE SUN.
BY AMEDEE GUILLEMIN.
From the French by T L. PHIPSON Ph.D  With 58 illustrations. One vol. I2mo, $I Xo.
TH E
0~~~~~~~~~~~
L.                                      0)
-~~~~~~~~
The Sun and the Planets; comparative Dimensions
For description of book. see page 6



22                Illustrated  Library  of Iw,.'.
WONDERS OF GLASS-MAKlI,-a;
Its Description and History from the Earliest Times to the Present.
BY A. SAUZAY.
With 67 illustrations on wood. One vol. I2mo, $I 50.
VENETIAN BOTTLE.
For description of book, see page 7.




Illustrated Library of Wonders.                   23
THE WONDERS OF ITALIAN ART.
BY LOUIS VIARDOT.
With 28 illustrations. One vol. 12mo, xI o0.
IEATI OF ST. PETER MARTYR.-BY TITIAN.
Formery in the Church of U. John and St. Pau', Venice
For description of book, see page?.
DEATH OF ST PETER MARTYR  BY TITI ~~e#      N
FomryinteCucho      JonadS  PuVnc
"~~~~-o decito   fboksepg 




24               Illustrated Library  of Wonders.
WONDERS OF THE HUMAN BODY.
BY A. PILEUR, M.D.
With   illustrations, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. 12mo, $1 50.
APOLLO BELVEDERE.
For description of book, see page 8.
_5: _
_ _~~~~~
_a
_~
_i~~ 
E: 
- S
~ Ss~
For description of book, see page 8.




Ildlstra/ed  Library  of Wonders. 
WONDERS OF ARCHITECTURE.
BY ANDRE LEFEVRE.
With a Chapter on English Architecture, by R. DONALD.
One vol. I2mo, with 56 illustrations.
_       -           __ _. _' _ _
-   ------ t —-  -~-=    — _:__     _          _~_L-  CC —-_ __:_      ~      _ -:_=
NOT RE D.\;lE DE POITIERS.
For description of book, see page 8.
-~ I                                 -         ----    — T —
I~~~~ / —-- /          II-;
II  Ii-        -
I,II ~ ~ 11~1~1lflillltJI
II~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ii ii  i     i
NursE DV,1FE ON rOITIERS.
For description of book, see page 8,




26                 Illustrated  Libra-y  of  W/onders.
THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.
BY L. SONREL.
Translated and edited by ELIHU RIcH. with 67 illustrations. One vol. I2mo, I 50o.
Hii   Ii  
Cecil. tip,   tI,
I'".,         II.   t  t'I'
Ft~~~~~~~~i19 ~ ~ ~',, J i'ili,'7 {'
ii "~ ~~~~~~~i, Ii''(?B ~ ~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~:;liII1 if
II   II,~,'TII,l; II I
IFor descaiption of book, see page 9.
"5~~~~~~~~~~~~~I5
J~.!legal~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~j
Fo   esv pto  o   oose   ag  j




Illustrated  Library of lWonders.                  27
THE WONDERS OF ACOUSTICS
BY R. RADAU.
With IIo illustrations. One vol. xuamo. Price,:I 50.
F~~~~~~~~~~~~~
H''_         _ _,
III. d1 1;i 5    li!,{~a             1n         0,II!                    _ __ _,  _ __  _ 
~It'__        __'  ~'/I,"i?~
For description of book, see page to.




28             Illustra/ed Library of Woanders.
BODILY STRENGTH AND SKILL
FROM THE FRENCH OF GUILLAUME DEPPING.
With 70 illustrations, many of them full-page. One vol. i2mo. Price, $i 50.
VENETIAN GAMES IN THE MIDDLE AGES.
For description of book, see page xx.




Ill/strated Library  of Waonders.                   29
WONDERFUL BALLOON ASCENTS.
By F. MARION.
With 30 illustrations, mrany of them full-page. One vol. i2mo. Price, $1 so.
THE FIRST AFRIAL VOYAGE.
For description of book, see page iz.




30               ITl/s'fra/ed Library of Wonders.
WONDERDEFUL ESCAPES.
BY F. BERNARD.
With 26 full-page plates. One vol. ramo. Price, ~I 50.
_..        _          _               m       -.-.: _ _:   _,~~~~~~~~~~_______. 
e~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
— 0;.  |   C-            _s..~~~~~- -
OSMOiD RUNS OFF WTH TF PRINCE
For description of book, see page 12.
~~~~- --— 1! 
==ii=~=;~=~_. _-_._=-~_ A,- 
~~~~~~ —-                      =  2-   =1====
OSM~Oh'D RUNS OFF WITH TIE: PRINCE.
Fobr description of book, see page r2.




Illustrated Librarj of Wonders.
WONDERS OF THE HEAVENS.
By CAMILLE FLAMMARION.
Translated bv Mrs. NORMAN LOCKYER. With forty-eight illustrations. One vol. Izmo,$1.5o
A Lnar Ladscape.
A Lunar Latndscape.




Illustrated Library of W[onders.
THE WONDERS OF OPTICS.
By F. MARION.
With over seventy enzravings, and a colored frontispiece. One vol. r2mo. Price $S Sa
r              descrition of book.  e page 
S I                                              ________
For descriotion of book. see page a.