These walls are built of huge polyhedric stones[112], which afford some idea of what has been lately thought the Cyclopean construction. Their materials, however, are a grey stone, without any mixture of the marble, granite, and lava, which are held essential to their construction. They are five, at least[113], and, in some places, twelve feet high. They are formed of solid blocks of stone, with towers at intervals; the archway of one gate only, however, stands entire. Considering the materials and the extent of this rampart, which incloses a space of nearly four miles round, with the many towers that rose at intervals, and its elevation of more than forty feet, it must be acknowledged that it was, on the whole, a work not only of great strength, but of great magnificence.
The material, of which they are built, is the same throughout each of the temples and common to all. It is an exceedingly hard, but porous and brittle stone, of a sober brownish-grey colour. It is a curious fact, that not only the ignorant people on the spot, but Neapolitan antiquaries also, wonder whence the ancients brought these masses of curious stone: and yet few things are more certain, than that they found them on the spot.
The stone of these edifices[114] was probably formed at Pæstum itself, by the brackish water of the Salso acting on vegetable earth, roots, and plants; for you can distinguish their petrified tubes in every column:—and Mr. Macfarlane, who passed a considerable time on the spot, adds, “The brackish water of the river Salso that runs by the wall of the town, and in different branches across the plain, has so strong a petrifying virtue that you can almost follow the operation with the eye. The waters of the neighbouring Sele (a considerable river—the ancient Silarus) have in all ages been remarkable for the same quality. In many places where the soil had been removed, we perceived strata of stone similar to the stones which compose the temples; and I could almost venture to say that the substratum of all the plain, from the Sele to Acropoli, is of the like substance. Curious petrifactions of leaves, pieces of wood, insects, and other vegetable and animal matters, are observed in the materials of columns, walls, &c.”
Taking these wonderful objects into view[115], their immemorial antiquity, their astonishing preservation, their grandeur, or rather grandiosity, their bold columnar elevation, at once massive and open, their severe simplicity of design, that simplicity in which art gradually begins, and to which, after a thousand revolutions of ornament, it again returns, taking, says Mr. Forsyth, all into one view, “I do not hesitate to call these the most impressive monuments I ever beheld on earth.”
Within[116] those walls, that once encircled a populous and splendid city, now rise one cottage, two farm-houses, a villa, and a church. The remaining space is covered with thick, matted grass, overgrown with brambles, spreading over the ruins, or buried under yellow, undulating corn; a few rose-bushes flourish neglected here and there, and still blossom twice a year;—in May and December. They are remarkable for their fragrance. Amid these objects and scenes, rural and ordinary, rise the three temples, like the mausoleums of the ruined city, dark, silent, and majestic[117].
“Majestic fanes of deities unknown! Ages have roll’d since here ye stood—alone;— Since your walls echoed to the sacred choir, Or blazed your altars sacrificial fire. And now—the wandering classic pilgrim sees The wild bird nestling in the sculptured frieze; Each fluted shaft by desert weeds embraced, Triglyphs, obscured entablatures defaced; Sees ill-timed verdure clothe each awful pile, While Nature lends her melancholy smile; And misplaced garniture of flowers that shed Their sweets, as if in mockery of the dead.”—Rogers.
NO. XIX.—POMPEII.
