His glorious colors and his glistening eye!”
Distant view of Vesuvius.
The Voyages, Travels, and Experiences of Thomas Trotter.
Chapter XVII.
Naples and the neighborhood.—The palace of Portici.—Herculaneum.—Comical scene at Resina.—Ascent of Vesuvius.—Fields of lava.—Meeting with a party of travellers.—Reach the top of the mountain.
The country all round Naples is full of strange and interesting objects for the curiosity of a traveller. Vesuvius is commonly the first among these to entice him upon an excursion. One fine morning I took my trusty stick in hand, and set out on a pedestrian jaunt towards the mountain. The roads were crowded with country people driving their little donkeys to the city, with panniers of greens, oranges, lemons, and all sorts of fresh eatables for the market. The beautiful country-seats of the rich Neapolitans excited my admiration, with their finely ornamented gardens, lawns, and pleasure-grounds. But all these delightful spots are surrounded by stone walls, ten or fifteen feet high, often bristling at the top with sharp iron spikes, broken glass, and such formidable defences. These things reminded me, perpetually, that I was in a country where a wide distinction existed between the poor and the rich, and where property has little security from public opinion, or the moral habits of the common people, but must be maintained by force. In fact, the owners of these beautiful dwellings, have far less comfort in their possession than one would imagine. They are surrounded by a poor, ignorant, immoral, and degraded population, against whom they must be constantly on their guard, for nothing but walls and watchmen can insure the rich man against depredation and robbery.
A few miles from the city, my course brought me in front of a splendid palace where the road appeared to terminate. I thought I must have mistaken my route, but on inquiring of an old friar, who happened to be passing, I was told to go straight on. I now found the road to pass directly under the palace, which hung over it upon lofty arches, wide enough for several carriages to pass abreast. This was the royal palace of Portici, the place where the antiquities of Pompeii were formerly kept; but they are now removed to Naples. At a little distance beyond this town I came to a village called Resina, under which, at the depth of seventy or one hundred feet, lies the ancient city of Herculaneum. Nothing of it is to be seen but by going down a dark pit, like the shaft of a mine; and as I meant to devote this day to Vesuvius, I deferred my visit to these subterranean regions till another time.
Resina is the point where all travellers stop to take their start for the mountain. The people of the village live by letting donkeys and acting as guides. Beyond the village, the roads become rugged and steep. Most travellers hire these animals, but I preferred walking. While I was stopping a few moments to rest, I heard whips cracking and the sound of wheels; and presently a couple of carriages drove into the village, full of English travellers, going up the mountain. The street was already crowded with villagers, each with his donkey saddled and bridled, ready for the journey. The moment the carriages stopped, they all crowded round them and began pushing, struggling, pulling, hauling, tugging, and scratching one another; bawling and screaming all the time like a pack of bedlamites. Never in my life did I witness so comical a hurly-burly. Each man scrambled and pressed for the carriage door, thrusting his donkey forward through the crowd, by main force, hoping to catch an Englishman on his back as he stepped out of the carriage. The first comer was thrust away by the second, and this one by the third; the whole crowd of them were jammed so hard against the carriages that the doors could not be opened, and the astonished and affrighted travellers remained fast penned up and unable to stir. The tumult and clamor increased; the poor little donkeys, squeezed up in the crowd, whisked their long ears about, and bobbed their noses against everybody around them; presently they began kicking and rearing up, and now the scramble and uproar rose to a pitch that surpasses all description! Down tumbles one of the donkeys, upsetting two or three fellows in his fall; another animal pitches head-foremost over him; the crowd scramble and push forward; whoever tries to get up catches hold of another’s leg and lays him sprawling too; donkeys and men lay scrambling and floundering, pell-mell, with a roaring and braying, such as never was heard before under the sun! I laughed till the tears ran down my cheeks, and even to this day, I never can think of the scene without laughing for the hundredth time! At length the carriages made a start forward, leaving the whole ragged regiment behind in the most woful plight. How they settled the matter among themselves I never knew, but jogged on my way up the mountain.
The road now began to be pretty steep, and the country looked broken and rugged, yet I passed a great many vineyards on the way, which shows that the ashes and volcanic matter of Vesuvius can make the rocky soil of this region very productive. After going two or three miles, I reached the station called the Hermitage, which is another stopping-place for travellers. It is a kind of rustic hotel standing in a lonely place, where the vineyards yield a species of wine which is in high repute. I found half a dozen travellers stopping here to refresh, and joined them. The keeper of this house goes by the name of the Hermit, but always expects pay for giving you a luncheon. This is fair enough, for, otherwise, he would soon be eaten out of house and home by his visiters. After taking some refreshment we all started together, taking a soldier with us for a guide and defence, being told this was indispensable, for fear of robbery. These people have a thousand cunning practices by which they obtrude their services upon you for a small compensation; and travellers generally put up with their tricks, to save themselves the trouble and delay of a dispute. My companions were all mounted on donkeys, but on this steep road, they never go faster than a common walk, so that I had no difficulty in keeping up with them. One of our number was a lady, who rode her gallant dapple in a queer, snug little sort of a pannier, or side-saddle, by the help of which she maintained her seat in safety, while the animal tottered and scrambled over the crags and gullies.