On the eve of our departure from Rome we went to see the Coliseum, a ruin of former glory where gladiators have fought, the largest amphitheatre in the world, which could hold about ten thousand spectators. Before turning to the hotel we took a drive in Monte Pincio, the Hyde Park of Rome. The large alleys are filled with riders, drivers and pedestrians. On both sides of the drive stand white marble statues of gods and goddesses. In the very beginning is erected the statue of Vittorio Emmanuele, in the memory of the taking of Rome by his armies. In front of the round tower of the summer-house, sheltered by magnificent magnolia and orange trees, there is a high terrace. We mounted on it, and Rome lay below us like a city from a balloon. It was very still and peaceful, the noise of the street did not penetrate to this place. Suddenly the evening bells began to ring all over Rome. On our way back, when passing before the “Trevi Fountains,” we called to mind the popular saying that if you want to return to Rome once more, you must drink some water out of this fountain, and we swallowed two glasses of the miraculous water which we purchased at a little shop near by.
After having seen all the sights of the Eternal City we started for Naples. We had quite enough of all these churches and museums, and were tired out by too much admiration. The tenants of our railway carriage were but three, but they had managed things so nicely that not a square inch of spare room was visible, engrossed by a fabulous number of bags, baskets, etc., etc. “Partenza!” shouted the railway officials, bang-bang went the doors, and our train left the station and began to wind round the low hills of the “Campagna.”
CHAPTER XXXV
NAPLES
When we arrived at Naples a whole legion of porters assailed us. We took an apartment at the Grand Hôtel, situated on the New Quay. We had a disagreeable surprise when we awoke next morning; a grey mist veiled Mount Vesuvius, the sky and sea were of leaden hue, and rain began to fall, which is very rare in this place. We braved the elements, and went in the afternoon to try and find out what has become of Schildecker, one of my most devoted lovers in the blessed days of my girlhood. We had exhausted every means in our power to discover his whereabouts and have been all over Naples to find him, but nobody could tell us anything about him. We called at the Transatlantic Bank where Schildecker had been employed, but there also nothing had been heard of him for nearly ten years. We got, however, the address of one of Schildecker’s friends, who perhaps could say where he was. But Sergy felt tired, and said that we could make far better use of our time than spending it in search of Schildecker. I despaired of finding him again, but did not insist, fearing to displease my husband.
After dinner, we drove to the Circus in a cab drawn by a queer-tempered horse, who at first would not move, and stood planted with rigid forelegs, tucked-in tail and ears laid back. Our driver made a great fuss with the reins and the whip, but his horse would not advance an inch. Suddenly the stubborn animal changed his mind, swerved aside, and commenced to rear, plunging rather wildly, and seemed to be in a fair way to kick himself free of everything. Perceiving the danger, I jumped out of the carriage, to Sergy’s great horror, and went straight to the horse’s head and snatched at the bridle, after which the nasty vicious brute became more manageable and consented to carry us to our destination.
Next morning, while still in bed, I could see the sunrise over Vesuvius, lighting the smoke which rose from the crater. After a hasty breakfast, we went for a drive in the outskirts of Naples passing through the “Pausilippe Grotto,” which is about a mile long; it is supported by columns and lighted at long intervals by lanterns. The road leading to Virgil’s tomb passes over the Grotto. We visited also the “Sulfre Grotto” with sulphur smoke coming out of the Vesuvius and evaporating through crevices in the Grotto. The “Dog’s Grotto” is full of sulphuric acid. A dog, serving for experiments, loses consciousness when kept inside one second, and breathes his last in the lapse of one minute. One of the ugly little mongrels, upon whom experiments are made, ran before us wagging his tail, but when the guide wanted to take him in his arms, the poor little brute began to whine pitifully. We would not have him tortured on our account, and the guide finding it necessary to show us another experiment, filled an earthen pot with gas, into which he dipped a burning torch which was immediately extinguished. We were back at Naples just in time for dinner. Before going to sleep we had an agreeable surprise. A troup of wandering singers gave us a serenade beneath our windows, and sung Russian folk-songs. I was so pleased I could have kissed them all. Next morning Sergy went out by himself to make inquiries about Schildecker, and started off to the address of his friend given in the Bank, and was told that Schildecker had died of consumption ten years ago. Poor fellow! His death affected me, and I dropped a tear for him.
We devoted the whole of the next day to Pompeii, the long-buried city at the foot of the great destroyer. Nothing but desolation and silence around! Walking amid the wrecks, the mystery of the past took possession of us and the busy lives which animated formerly the deserted town, rose before us. The cinder-choked streets have preserved their ancient denominations. The buildings remind me of those of Erzeroum, with a fountain in the middle of the inner court. The frescoed walls have kept their original colour, and the sign-boards over the houses and the indecent bas-reliefs (reminiscences of not over pure-minded antiquity) are perfectly intact. Here is the grand Basilique the symbol of an ancient disappeared civilisation and the pagan temples of Venus, Mercury and Jupiter. A little further, in the quarter of the Gladiators, is the Forum with the immense tribune in which the people assembled for all sorts of meetings. In a separate museum curious remains of past ages are gathered: artistically worked jewels, mosaics and petrified corpses in almost as fine condition as 1800 years ago in 79 A.D. There is a young woman lying prostrate on the marble floor; the position of the hands indicate that she had instinctively tried to protect her face from the hot ashes when the death-storm broke and Vesuvius blotted out Pompeii. We saw objects just dug up: coins, vases and pottery. We passed before bars which looked as if they had just been freshly painted, where wine had been sold. Here are loaves of bread lying on the counter of a baker’s shop, transformed into stone and looking as if they had just come out of the oven. Before the shop, a petrified dog, curled up, seems to be sleeping.
Our old cicerone, who had lived all his life at the foot of the great mountain, had worked as guide to Pompeii for fifty-five years. He told us that there were presently forty guides at Pompeii. When we asked if it wasn’t dangerous for him to live so near to the volcano, the old guide replied, with pride, that they were all of them sons of Vesuvius, and had no need, therefore, to dread it.