I remain,
My dear Friend,
Faithfully and gratefully yours,
Adam Sedgwick.
After all the violence and bloodshed of the preceding year, the Thanksgiving of Queen Victoria and the British nation for the recovery of the Prince of Wales will form a striking event in European history. For it was not the congregation in St. Paul's alone, it was the spontaneous gratitude of all ranks and all faiths throughout the three kingdoms that were offered up to God that morning; the people sympathized with their Queen, and no sovereign more deserves sympathy.
Vesuvius has exhibited a considerable activity during the winter and early spring, and frequent streams of lava flowed from the crater, and especially from the small cone to the north, a little way below the principal crater. But these streams were small and intermittent, and no great outbreak was expected. On the 24th April a stream of lava induced us to drive in the evening to Santa Lucia. The next night, Thursday, 25th April, my daughter Martha, who had been to the theatre, wakened me that I might see Vesuvius in splendid eruption. This was at about 1 o'clock on Friday morning. Early in the morning I was disturbed by what I thought loud thunder, and when my maid came at 7 a.m. I remarked that there was a thunder storm, but she said, "No, no; it is the mountain roaring." It must have been very loud for me to hear, considering my deafness, and the distance Vesuvius is from Naples, yet it was nothing compared to the noise later in the day, and for many days after. My daughter, who had gone to Santa Lucia to see the eruption better, soon came to fetch me with our friend Mr. James Swinton, and we passed the whole day at windows in an hotel at Santa Lucia, immediately opposite the mountain. Vesuvius was now in the fiercest eruption, such as has not occurred in the memory of this generation, lava overflowing the principal crater and running in all directions. The fiery glow of lava is not very visible by daylight; smoke and steam is sent off which rises white as snow, or rather as frosted silver, and the mouth of the great crater was white with the lava pouring over it. New craters had burst out the preceding night, at the very time I was admiring the beauty of the eruption, little dreaming that, of many people who had gone up that night to the Atrio del Cavallo to see the lava (as my daughters had done repeatedly and especially during the great eruption of 1868), some forty or fifty had been on the very spot where the new crater burst out, and perished, scorched to death by the fiery vapours which eddied from the fearful chasm. Some were rescued who had been less near to the chasm, but of these none eventually recovered.
Behind the cone rose an immense column of dense black smoke to more than four times the height of the mountain, and spread out at the summit horizontally, like a pine tree, above the silvery stream which poured forth in volumes. There were constant bursts of fiery projectiles, shooting to an immense height into the black column of smoke, and tinging it with a lurid red colour. The fearful roaring and thundering never ceased for one moment, and the house shook with the concussion of the air. One stream of lava flowed towards Torre del Greco, but luckily stopped before it reached the cultivated fields; others, and the most dangerous ones, since some of them came from the new craters, poured down the Atrio del Cavallo, and dividing before reaching the Observatory flowed to the right and to the left—the stream which flowed to the north very soon reached the plain, and before night came on had partially destroyed the small town of Massa di Somma. One of the peculiarities of this eruption was the great fluidity of the lava; another was the never-ceasing thundering of the mountain. During that day we observed several violent explosions in the great stream of lava: we thought from the enormous volumes of black smoke emitted on these occasions that new craters had burst out—some below the level of the Observatory; but that can hardly have been the case. My daughters at night drove to Portici, and went up to the top of a house, where the noise seems to have been appalling; but they told me they did not gain anything by going to Portici, nor did they see the eruption better than I did who remained at Santa Lucia, for you get too much below the mountain on going near. On Sunday, 28th, I was surprised at the extreme darkness, and on looking out of window saw men walking with umbrellas; Vesuvius was emitting such an enormous quantity of ashes, or rather fine black sand, that neither land, sea, nor sky was visible; the fall was a little less dense during the day, but at night it was worse than ever. Strangers seemed to be more alarmed at this than at the eruption, and certainly the constant loud roaring of Vesuvius was appalling enough amidst the darkness and gloom of the falling ashes. The railroad was crowded with both natives and foreigners, escaping; on the other hand, crowds came from Rome to see the eruption. We were not at all afraid, for we considered that the danger was past when so great an eruption had acted as a kind of safety-valve to the pent-up vapours. But a silly report got about that an earthquake was to take place, and many persons passed the night in driving or walking about the town, avoiding narrow streets. The mountain was quite veiled for some days by vapour and ashes, but I could see the black smoke and silvery mass above it. While looking at this, a magnificent column, black as jet, darted with inconceivable violence and velocity to an immense height; it gave a grand idea of the power that was still in action in the fiery caverns below.
Immense injury has been done by this eruption, and much more would have been done had not the lava flowed to a great extent over that of 1868. Still the streams ran through Massa di Somma, San Sebastiano, and other villages scattered about the country, overwhelming fields, woods, vineyards, and houses. The ashes, too, have not only destroyed this year's crops, but killed both vines and fruit trees, so that altogether it has been most disastrous. Vesuvius was involved in vapour and ashes till far on in May, and one afternoon at sunset, when all below was in shade, and only a few silvery threads of steam were visible, a column of the most beautiful crimson colour rose from the crater, and floated in the air. Many of the small craters still smoked, one quite at the base of the cone, which is a good deal changed—it is lower, the small northern cone has disappeared, and part of the walls of the crater have fallen in, and there is a fissure in them through which smoke or vapour is occasionally emitted.
On the 1st June we returned to Sorrento, this time to a pretty and cheerful apartment close to the sea, where I led very much the same pleasant life as the year before—busy in the morning with my own studies, and passing the rest of the day on the terrace with my daughters, who brought me beautiful wild flowers from their excursions over the country. Many of the flowers they brought were new to me, and it is a curious fact that some plants which did not grow in this part of the country a few years ago are now quite common. Amongst others, the Trachelium cœruleum, a pretty wall-plant, native of Calabria, and formerly unknown here, now clothes many an old wall near Naples, and at Sorrento. The ferns are extremely beautiful here. Besides those common to England, the Pteris cretica grows luxuriantly in the damp ravines, as well as that most beautiful of European ferns, the Woodwardia radicans, whose fronds are often more than six feet long. The inhabitants of Sorrento are very superior to the Neapolitans, both in looks and character; they are cleanly, honest, less cruel to animals, and have pleasant manners—neither too familiar nor cringing. As the road between Sorrento and Castellamare was impassable, owing to the fall of immense masses of rock from the cliffs above it, we crossed over in the steamer with our servants and our pet birds, for I now have a beautiful long-tailed parroquet called Smeraldo, who is my constant companion and is very familiar. And here I must mention how much I was pleased to hear that Mr. Herbert, M.P., has brought in a bill to protect land birds, which has been passed in Parliament; but I am grieved to find that "The lark which at Heaven's gate sings" is thought unworthy of man's protection. Among the numerous plans for the education of the young, let us hope that mercy may be taught us a part of religion.