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 quæstor, 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. 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 thermæ 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 passed at least a portion of the night at the baths. This corridor conducts you to the apodyteres or spoliatorium, 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 capsarius, 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 your 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.
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 (elæthesium), 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 frigidarium.
This frigidarium or natatio 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 Pompeians 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 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 apodyteros, where you left your clothing, pass into the tepidarium. This hall, which is the richest of the bathing establishment, is paved in white mosaic with black borders, the vault richly ornamented 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 of arabesques separates the cornice from the vault. A large window at the extremity flanked by two figures in stucco lighted up the tepidarium, while subterranean conduits and a large brazier of bronze retained for it that lukewarm (tepida) temperature which gave it the peculiar name.
This bronze brazier is still in existence, along with three benches of the same metal found in the same place; an inscription—M. Nigidius Vaccula P.S. (pecuniâ sua)—designates to us the donor who punning on his own name Vaccula, 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.