Our guide first took us into the Museum, where we saw under glass cases some of the Pompeiian corpses, so wonderfully preserved by the plaster of Paris process, described in our visit to the Museum at Naples; also many other most interesting mementoes of the buried city, too numerous to mention. From thence we roamed out into the deserted streets:
"I stood within the city disinterred;
And heard the autumnal leaves like light footfalls
Of spirits passing through the streets; and heard
The Mountain's slumberous voice at intervals
Thrill through those roofless walls."
The roofless state of the houses seems to have been caused, partly by the weight of matter which collected on them, and also from the fact of their being principally composed of wood, which was burnt by the red-hot stones that fell in showers from the burning mountain. There was, however, always sufficient of the building remaining to tell whether it had been a shop or a private residence, and, if the former, to distinguish what particular business had been carried on there: for instance, we found the bakers' ovens nearly perfect; while the wine-shops had great stone pitchers of the "Ali Baba" kind sunk into the counter, for cooling purposes, with the necks just showing above. The money-changers' shops were all marked by some such inscription as "Money is the thing worshipped here" (nothing new under the sun, thought I). Then there were the baths, arranged on the Roman principle (that which is erroneously known in the present day as the Turkish system), with rooms for graduated temperature, and all the conveniences for heating-places and niches for ointments and unguents, etc., to be used after the luxury of the bath. The private dwellings were most attractive, with their frescoed chambers, fountains, and open courts. Few of the houses had any windows; the light probably being admitted from the roof above, and reflected from the marble tanks of water in the centre of the court. But even under this hypothesis, I cannot help thinking the ancients had some other means of catching the light and diffusing it in their apartments, in some such manner as the Chappuis' reflectors we now use, though no certain evidence is yet forthcoming that they did so. There were places of amusement, and even places of vice, all distinctly noted: the Chalcidicum or Hall of Justice, the Street of the Tombs, Senate-houses, schools, Forums, and Temples, amphitheatres and coliseums—principally, of course, mere ruins, but still showing great beauty of design and finish. Most of the walls had evidently been veneered with marble about an inch or two thick; and there was, in some of the rooms, space left between the walls for heating purposes. It is said that at the time of the eruption Pompeii was still unfinished, indeed, that the preceding earthquake had interrupted the Romans in beautifying the city: there were pointed out to us several columns and buildings that had evidently been prepared for the veneering process, and never been completed. Many of the mosaic floors are in fine preservation, as are also the paintings and frescoes on the walls. One beautiful little shrine or grotto made of mosaics and shells is singularly interesting and unique.
The streets, which were all made on the slant for draining purposes, are very narrow, just wide enough for one carriage or chariot to pass up at a time. They are paved with lava stone, which is bleached white with the rain, and has been preserved so by its long entombment; here and there in the centre are raised oval stones, not interfering with the traffic, and affording convenient stepping-stones to foot-passengers during wet weather. When a chariot entered one of these streets, the word was quickly passed, to prevent another entering at the other end until it had gone through, and this was supposed to be the duty of the owners of the little shops on each side of the way.
On such a nipping day, it was impossible to help thinking how cold the place must have been with so much marble and cold water about; but the theory is, that the climate has very much changed since the days of Glaucus and Ione. When at Rome, our guide told us that even within his recollection the temperature there had altered considerably, and had become much colder.
It seemed a great pity to spend only a few hours among these most interesting ruins; but as we were obliged to get back to Naples by evening, to be ready for our departure for Sicily on the morrow, we did not stop at Herculaneum on our return, as had been our intention; it was really so cold during the return drive that we were quite thankful when we sighted our hotel once more. We made a mental resolve, however, to pay a longer visit to Naples some day, and take our time over visiting the two buried cities and other places of interest that we were obliged to miss on the present occasion.