It seemed to me as if there might be an eruption at any moment, and I wanted to get away from the place; but the guide said there was no danger, that the crater always filled up before an explosion, and that they knew days and weeks beforehand when it would occur. To convince me that there was no danger, he said that he had a family to support, and wanted to live, though I could see no reason why, and he had no hesitation in going close up to the edge. Although I had no family to support, I knew a man who had one. I therefore concluded to do as he did, and so crept up and looked over, holding the kerchief all the while to my face.
LOOKING INTO THE CRATER.
A very brief gaze was sufficient for me, not because the sight was less grand than I had expected, but because the fumes of sulphur were so strong that I feared I might faint, and in falling, drop into that confounded hole. There are various modes of death which I should consider disreputable, and dropping into a volcano is one of them.
We went so near to the fire that I lighted my cigar at the flames of Vesuvius, and as I was quite weary I enjoyed the cigar with a great deal of relish. We cooked some eggs which we purchased of an Italian speculator. He had brought them up at a venture, and provided himself with salt and bread, and a few bottles of wine, so that we were able to make a comfortable meal. Our appetites had been sharpened by the labor of climbing, and we made a hearty repast, the more so as a view was displayed before us which I will not easily forget. Gold and blue, that brilliant gold of the sun, a whole world of cheerful beams, and a splendid azure-blue is lying upon the sea under us. That is a sky so magnificent, so many-colored, as no other country has ever seen. Yonder lies Capri, there Procida, and at a little distance Ischia, all floating upon the water, like so many boats, adorned with many-colored flags, all splendor, all charm. This wreath of villages and cities, washed by the bay of Naples, glistens like marble, and yonder, where the sea pierces so deep in the land, is Naples. That charming city is surrounded by landscapes of the brightest hues, blue, green, life and joy! The Neapolitans, proud of this gem, call her “a piece of paradise lost upon the earth.” A view of the bay of Naples from the top of Vesuvius is probably the most charming one upon earth. The great difficulty of the ascension, and the still greater annoyance of the beggars; and the enormous number of curious visitors, has led a company to project a railroad, which does away with all such troubles. The distance from the suburbs of Naples to the top of Vesuvius is twenty-six miles, twenty-three of which are to be laid with ordinary railroad tracks, and the distance from Atrio del Cavallo to the top, which is the steepest stretch, being three miles, is a wire-rope road, which prevents the cars from sliding back over the steep plane. The plan is made to have the whole road covered with a vaulted roof of lava, to a distance of about one hundred feet from the crater, which will at the same time divide the streaming lava into two tributaries, running on either side of the road, which is built of lava also, and is elevated. The model of the road is the same as that of the Rigi. One of the stations of the road is the observatory of Prof. Palmieri, who here feels the pulse of the mountain. He showed us, with the greatest courtesy, the different scientific instruments of which he makes use for his investigations. It would take too much space to describe them here; let it suffice to say that they enable the professor to make his calculations to a nicety, and that we really may say that he “feels the pulse” of the mountain; he not only knows what is going on at the moment in this great reservoir of lava, but he is able to predict an approaching eruption.
RAILROAD FROM NAPLES TO THE SUMMIT OF MT. VESUVIUS.
THE PROJECTED RAILROAD.
Going down the mountain was much easier than going up. We did not go down at the same place where we made the ascent, but went a little to one side, where we could walk down through the ashes. The first step or so is a little trying to the nerves, but after two or three steps you acquire confidence and then let yourself out. All you need to do is to stand erect, throw your head back, and start off, putting one foot before the other in a dignified sort of way. The ashes are generally dry and dusty, but at the time of my descent they had just been moistened by a slight fall of rain, so that no dust arose from them. Our feet settled in the ashes up to the ankles, and at every step we went forward six or eight yards. It took us an hour and a quarter to climb the mountain, and we came down in seven minutes, including a halt on the way to make love to an English girl, who had slipped, and was unable to pick herself up. We assisted her to her feet, and lost a minute or two in our work of gallantry.
RACING IN THE LAVA BEDS.