233 



VESUVIUS AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD. 



[1854. 



attached to Uie basin which we call the Bay of Naples is " Crater." 

 Tliis oil abserv era had taken notice that there was in this locality 

 a connected system of volcanic vents, and that Vesuvius, Volture, 

 the. tioifaUra of the Phlegraan fields, Avernus, Ischia, Stromboli, 

 with M.uw. itself, wore but minor formations on the lip of a gigan- 

 tic flria for the escape of the elastic gases, whose egress by their 

 former channel the influx of the Mediterranean had checked. In 

 that old appellation — "Crater" — have we not also a lingering 

 reminiscence of a huge upheaval, and consequent oscillation of 

 ocean, of which tradition spoke — when perhaps the Aral parted 

 company with the Caspian, and the Caspian with the Black Sea, 

 and all three with the Baltic, — when the Black Sea no longer 

 formed a continuous expanse with the Mediterranean, — when 

 Thessaly became dry land, and Peliou fell from Ossa, — when the 

 Red Sea ceased to receive the Jordan, and the valley of the Nile, 

 the Mediterranean, — when the mountain chain which had pre- 

 viously linked the continents of Europe and Africa together was 

 ruptured, and Atlantis, not all a fable, sank beneath the deep ? 



But be this as it may, Vesuvius is one of a system of volcanic 

 vents, either open or for the present obstructed, which it is inte- 

 resting to trace in this neighbourhood ; — with which system are 

 doubtless connected also the extinct volcanoes of the Albano hills, 

 near Rome, the Solfatara on the road to Tivoli, and the Lago di 

 Bracciano, to the north-west of Rome. 



The base of Vesuvius is now encompassed on two sides by 

 railways. The one to the north-east runs to Cajsua, and is ulti- 

 mately to reach Rome. The other to the south-east is completed, 

 I believe, now to the ancient port of Brundisium. The south- 

 eastern road has "stations" at Herculaneum and Pompeii, and by 

 this route many persons proceed from Naples to Resina, where 

 the ascent of Vesuvius is usually commenced. But although to 

 travellers in the United States of America the idea of rushing by 

 rail to Rome, Syracuse, and Troy is sufficiently familiar, the tourist 

 who is desirous of keeping his mind in harmony with the past, 

 whose veritable relics he is about to contemplate, will certainly do 

 well to prefer the old public road. By taking this route to Pom- 

 peii, you also have the advantage of witnessing a succession of 

 animated scenes of popular life, the whole line of road being an 

 almost continuous suburb of Naples, and swarming with inhabi- 

 tants. Here will be seen crowds, who, iu their sun-burnt, copper- 

 coloured skins, scantiness of dress, showiness of rude ornament, 

 and want of productive occupation, will strike the Canadian who 

 has visited Caughnawaga, Manitouahning, or the Sault, as — 

 Indians, of a rather superior class. In your way out, too, by this 

 route, you will be sure to meet or pass numbers of those non- 

 descript, characteristic vehicles of the neighbourhood, the country 

 caleches, made so brillianC with gay paint and bright brass, in 

 respect to which one is constrained to wonder (first) how fourteen 

 or more passengers — embracing motley groups of peasants, soldiers, 

 ecclesiastics, monks, women, children, and infants in arms — can be 

 placed within them, or slung on to them — for slung on many 

 literally are iu nets hanging down behind, — and (secondly) how 

 the one diminutive horse or mule manages to whirl them along 

 as, decked with little flags, streaming ribands, jingling bells, and 

 glittering gear, he merrily does. You will have an opportunity 

 of calling, if you feel inclined to do so, at one of the innumerable 

 maccaroni manufactories which — at Torre del Annunciata, for 

 example — line the street, where almost every house looks like a 

 chandlery of farthing rushlights, the pipes of the popular esculent 

 suspended in the open air on countless rows of long rods to dry, 

 resembling in colour and diameter that once celebrated article. 

 "Within, you can examine the process, which will not fail to inte- 

 rest, by which the farinaceous dough of which this staple food of 

 the neighbourhood consists is forced into the various shapes of 



maccaroni, vermicelli, fedelini, ribands, sheets, and the minute little 

 discs resembling the green seeds of the hollyhock, so abundantly 

 to be met with in Neapolitan soups. 



At Torre del Greco you can descend from your carriage and 

 examine the lava, which here in vast sheets has found at various 

 times its way into the sea. In 1794 it destroyed the principal 

 portion of this town by passing through it in a stream 1200 feet 

 wide, and of a thickness varying from 12 to 40 feet, advancing 

 into the Mediterranean a distance of 380 feet. The desolation 

 occasioned by this, and another later fiery flood (1806), is still fresh 

 to the eye. The disintegrating force of the atmosphere has not yet 

 had time to dissolve the rocky surface into soil, which ultimately 

 heals the wounds of earth, and obliterates all scare. The colour 

 of the solid mass is here a dark bluish gray, reminding one of our 

 familiar Kingston limestone when newly quarried. Here, and 

 everywhere along the drive out from Naples, the lava is seen 

 turned to useful account. Houses are built of it ; the streets are 

 paved with it ; the heaps of metal piled by the way-side for the 

 purpose of repair are composed of the same omnipresent substance. 



But in noticing what may be seen at Torre del Annunciata and 

 Torre del Greco I have gone beyond Resina, where, as I have said, 

 the ascent of Vesuvius is usually commenced. In practice, indeed, 

 I believe, persons generally do pass through Resina, visiting Pom- 

 peii first, and taking Vesuvius in their return. But inasmuch as 

 "Vesuvius and its neighbourhood" is my subject, I hasten to 

 despatch the mountain first, and reserve what I have to say on 

 its neighbourhood for the second division of my paper. 



Deposited, then, at Resina, you procure horses and a guide. 

 An unromantic carriage-drive has been constructed, by which a 

 considerable portion of the mountain may be circuitously ascended. 

 A more interesting mode of ascent is by a rough bridle-path on 

 horseback. Taking this route, you proceed up a sort of water- 

 course, passing over bare lava which shelves backwards by great 

 flights of broad irregular steps. At first on the right and left 

 are vineyards and gardens, till you approach a rather level 

 portion of the mountain, where stand the place of refresh- 

 ment called the Hermitage and an Astronomical Observatory 

 ■ — not the scene of the discoveries of De Gasparis — that, one 

 gazes at with interest close to Naples itself. At this point 

 vegetation ceases, or has been destroyed over the upper portions 

 of the southern and western flanks of the mountain, and the far 

 outskirts of the cone begin to present some rather startling evi- 

 dences of the desolating power of volcanoes. The whole apex of 

 the mountain rises solemnly before you, apparently a pile of sohd 

 lava — of lava which bears very visible marks of having flowed 

 down from the crater above in broad outspreading cataracts. Its 

 furrowed, rutty look is like the surface of one of our unmacadam- 

 ized back-streets after a sudden frost. Here and there you see 

 where the descending ponderous fluid has met in its course with 

 some solid mass of anterior date, and has coiled heavily around it, 

 leaving great sluggish circular ripples, set fast for ever. You start 

 from Resina very buoyantly ; you are carried gaily along on your 

 willing nag. The brilliancy of earth, air, and sky fills the mind 

 with a sort of child-like glee. But as you approach the base of 

 the cone, a sobriety comes over the spirit. Like the child 

 advanced onwards into manhood, you find that you have entered 

 a rather stern region, and that nothing short of hard work will 

 enable you to overcome its difficulties. 



Arrived at length, after two hours and a half, at the Atrio del 

 Cavallo, near the base of the cone, you dismount. You take a 

 rough scramble up a wild desolate ravine underneath the precipi- 

 tous walls of Monte Somma, the north-westerly summit of Vesu- 

 vius ; you notice the stratified layers of the ancient lava, and Ihe 



