We remained on this spot till broad daylight and witnessed several eruptions at an interval of twenty or twenty-five minutes. I remarked that the mountain toward the summit forms two cones, one of which vomited fire and smoke, and the other calcined stones and ashes, accompanied by a rumbling noise like thunder. The stones came clattering down the flanks of the mountain and some of them rolled very near us; had we been within the radius formed by the erupted stones we probably should have been killed.
At daylight Mr R—— D—— proposed to ascend the two cones in spite of the remonstrances of our guide Salvatore, who told us that no person had yet been there and that we must expect to be crushed to death by the stones, should an eruption take place, and that it was almost as much madness to attempt it, as it would be to walk before a battery of cannon in the act of being fired. Tho' I did not admit all the force of this comparison, yet I began to think there was a little too much risk in the attempt; my French friend however was deaf to all remonstrance and said to me, "As-tu peur?" I replied: "No! that I was at all times very indifferent as to life or death, but that I did not like pain, and was not at all desirous to have an arm or leg broken, the former accident having happened to a German a few days before; nevertheless, I added, if you persist in going, I will accompany you." We accordingly started to ascend the cone, which vomited fire and smoke, taking care to place ourselves on the windward side in ascending, and after much fatigue we arrived in about fifteen minutes close to the apex of the cone, after groping amidst the ashes and stumbling on a vein of red hot cinders. My shoes were sadly burnt, my stockings singed and my feet scorched; my friend was less fortunate, for he tumbled down with his hands on a vein of red hot cinders and burned them terribly. My great and principal apprehension in making this ascent was of stumbling upon holes slightly encrusted with ashes and that the whole might give way and precipitate me into some gouffre. On arrival at the summit of the cone we had just time to look down and perceive that there was a hole or gouffre, but whether it were very deep or not we could not ascertain, for a blast of fire and smoke issuing from it at this moment nearly suffocated us; we immediately lost no time in gliding down the ashes on the side of the cone on our breech, and reached its base in a few seconds, where we waited till an eruption took place from the other cone, in order to profit of the interval to ascend it also. It required four minutes' walk to reach the base of the other cone and about twelve to ascend to its apex; on arrival at the brink, where we remained about two minutes, we had just sufficient time to observe that there was no deep hole or bottomless gouffre as we expected, but that it formed a crater with a sort of slant and not exceeding thirty feet in depth to the bottom, which looked exactly like a lime-kiln, being of a dirty white appearance, and in continual agitation, as it were of limestones boiling; so that a person descending to the bottom of this crater would probably be scorched to death or suffocated in a few minutes, but would infallibly be ejected and thrown into the air at the first eruption. I mean by this that he would not disappear or fall into a bottomless pit (as I should have supposed before I viewed the crater), but that his friends would be sure of finding his body either yet living or dead, outside the brink of the crater, within the radius made by the erupted stones and ashes.
Our guide now begged us for God's sake to descend, as an eruption might be expected every minute. We accordingly glided down the exterior surface of the cone among the ashes, on our breech, for it is impossible to descend in any other way and in a few seconds we reached its base. Finding ourselves on a little level ground we began to run or rather wade thro' the ashes in order to get out of reach of the eruption, but we had not gone thirty yards when one took place. The stones clattered down with a frightful noise and we received a shower of ashes on our heads, the dust of which got into our eyes and nearly blinded us. On reaching the brink of the old crater we stopped half an hour to enjoy the fine view of Parthenope in all her glory at sunrise. We then descended rapidly, sometimes plunging down the ashes on our feet and sometimes gliding on our breech till we arrived at the place where we had descended from our mules, and this distance, which required one hour to ascend, cost us in its descent not more than seven minutes.
We then walked to the hermitage in about an hour and a quarter, and arrived there with no other accident than having our shoes and stockings totally spoiled, our feet a little singed, the hands of Mr. R.D. severely burned and both begrimed with ashes like blacksmiths. The ecclesiastic gave us a breakfast of coffee and eggs and a glass of Maraschino, and we gave him two scudi each. Before we departed he presented to us his Album, which he usually does to all travellers, inviting them to write something. I took up the pen and feeling a little inspiration wrote the following lines:
Anch'io salito son sul gran Vesuvio,
Mentre cadsa di cineri un diluvio;
Questo cammin mi piace d'aver fatto,
Ma plù mi piace il ritornare intatto.
which pleased the old man very much to see a foreigner write Italian verse. I pleased him still more by letting him know that I was an enthusiastic admirer and humble cultivator of the Tuscan Muse, and that having read and studied most of their poets, particularly il divino Ariosto, I now and then caught a scintilletta from his verse. We now took a cordial farewell of our worthy old host, mounted our mules and descended the mountain. On arrival at Portici we dismissed our guide Salvatore with a scudo pour boire, besides the stipulated price. Salvatore asked me to give him a written certificate of his services, which he generally sollicits from all those whom he conducts to the Volcano. I asked him for his certificate book, and begged to know whether he would have it in prose or verse. He laughed and said: Vostra Excellenza è padrone. I took out my pencil and wrote the following quatrain:
Dal monte ignivomo tornati siam stanchissimi,
E del buon Salvator siam tutti contentissimi;
Felice il pellogrin che a Salvator si fida,
Che di lui non si può trovare un miglior guida.
I never saw any body so delighted as Salvatore appeared when I read to him what I had written in his book.
I have another observation to make before I take leave of this celebrated mountain, which is, that the liquid lava which it ejects is far more dangerous and destructive than the eruption of stones and ashes; the lava flows from the flanks of the mountain in a liquid stream. Sometimes there will be an eruption and no lava flowing: at other tunes the lava flows from the flanks of the mountain, without any eruption from the crater; at other times, and then it is most alarming, the eruption takes place accompanied by the flowing of the lava. All this demonstrates that the volcano is the effect of the efforts of the subterraneous fire to get some vent and escape from its confinement. This time I did not observe any lava flowing, except a slight vein of it on the spot where Mr R.D. fell down and burned his hands; but it is easy to observe on the side of the mountain the course and route taken at different times by the lava, which has become hardened and is very plainly to be distinguished, as it resembles a river (if I may use the word) of slate meandering between the green sward of the mountain and descending toward the sea. You can plainly distinguish the course and direction of the lava which destroyed part of Torre del Greco and swept it into the sea.
At Portici, having washed ourselves at the inn from head to foot in order to get rid of our blacksmith's appearance, and having purchased a new pair of shoes and stockings each, we visited the Royal Palace and Museum with a view principally of examining the objects of art and valuables discovered in Pompeii. The Royal Palace is called la Favorita, its architecture is beautiful; the garden or rather lawn which is ornamented by statues and enriched by orange groves extends to the sea. The first thing that presents itself to the view of the visitor at the Museum of Portici are the two equestrian statues of Marcus Balbus proconsul and procurator and of his son, which statues were found in Herculaneum. I forgot to mention that there is an inscription with that name on the side of the proscenium of the theatre easily legible by the light of flambeaux.