The Last Days of Pompeii
Page 50
Chapter VII
THE PROGRESS OF THE DESTRUCTION.
THE cloud, which had scattered so deep a murkiness over the day, had nowsettled into a solid and impenetrable mass. It resembled less even thethickest gloom of a night in the open air than the close and blinddarkness of some narrow room. But in proportion as the blacknessgathered, did the lightnings around Vesuvius increase in their vivid andscorching glare. Nor was their horrible beauty confined to the usualhues of fire; no rainbow ever rivalled their varying and prodigal dyes.Now brightly blue as the most azure depth of a southern sky--now of alivid and snakelike green, darting restlessly to and fro as the folds ofan enormous serpent--now of a lurid and intolerable crimson, gushingforth through the columns of smoke, far and wide, and lighting up thewhole city from arch to arch--then suddenly dying into a sicklypaleness, like the ghost of their own life!
In the pauses of the showers, you heard the rumbling of the earthbeneath, and the groaning waves of the tortured sea; or, lower still,and audible but to the watch of intensest fear, the grinding and hissingmurmur of the escaping gases through the chasms of the distant mountain.Sometimes the cloud appeared to break from its solid mass, and, by thelightning, to assume quaint and vast mimicries of human or of monstershapes, striding across the gloom, hurtling one upon the other, andvanishing swiftly into the turbulent abyss of shade; so that, to theeyes and fancies of the affrighted wanderers, the unsubstantial vaporswere as the bodily forms of gigantic foes--the agents of terror and ofdeath.
The ashes in many places were already knee-deep; and the boiling showerswhich came from the steaming breath of the volcano forced their way intothe houses, bearing with them a strong and suffocating vapor. In someplaces, immense fragments of rock, hurled upon the house roofs, boredown along the streets masses of confused ruin, which yet more and more,with every hour, obstructed the way; and, as the day advanced, themotion of the earth was more sensibly felt--the footing seemed to slideand creep--nor could chariot or litter be kept steady, even on the mostlevel ground.
Sometimes the huger stones striking against each other as they fell,broke into countless fragments, emitting sparks of fire, which caughtwhatever was combustible within their reach; and along the plains beyondthe city the darkness was now terribly relieved; for several houses, andeven vineyards, had been set on flames; and at various intervals thefires rose suddenly and fiercely against the solid gloom. To add tothis partial relief of the darkness, the citizens had, here and there,in the more public places, such as the porticoes of temples and theentrances to the forum, endeavored to place rows of torches; but theserarely continued long; the showers and the winds extinguished them, andthe sudden darkness into which their sudden birth was converted hadsomething in it doubly terrible and doubly impressing on the impotenceof human hopes, the lesson of despair.
Frequently, by the momentary light of these torches, parties offugitives encountered each other, some hurrying towards the sea, othersflying from the sea back to the land; for the ocean had retreatedrapidly from the shore--an utter darkness lay over it, and upon itsgroaning and tossing waves the storm of cinders and rock fell withoutthe protection which the streets and roofs afforded to the land.Wild--haggard--ghastly with supernatural fears, these groups encounteredeach other, but without the leisure to speak, to consult, to advise; forthe showers fell now frequently, though not continuously, extinguishingthe lights, which showed to each band the deathlike faces of the other,and hurrying all to seek refuge beneath the nearest shelter. The wholeelements of civilization were broken up. Ever and anon, by theflickering lights, you saw the thief hastening by the most solemnauthorities of the law, laden with, and fearfully chuckling over, theproduce of his sudden gains. If, in the darkness, wife was separatedfrom husband, or parent from child, vain was the hope of reunion. Eachhurried blindly and confusedly on. Nothing in all the various andcomplicated machinery of social life was left save the primal law ofself-preservation!
Through this awful scene did the Athenian wade his way, accompanied byIone and the blind girl. Suddenly, a rush of hundreds, in their path tothe sea, swept by them. Nydia was torn from the side of Glaucus, who,with Ione, was borne rapidly onward; and when the crowd (whose formsthey saw not, so thick was the gloom) were gone, Nydia was stillseparated from their side. Glaucus shouted her name. No answer came.They retraced their steps--in vain: they could not discover her--it wasevident she had been swept along some opposite direction by the humancurrent. Their friend, their preserver, was lost! And hitherto Nydiahad been their guide. Her blindness rendered the scene familiar to heralone. Accustomed, through a perpetual night, to thread the windings ofthe city, she had led them unerringly towards the sea-shore, by whichthey had resolved to hazard an escape. Now, which way could they wend?all was rayless to them--a maze without a clue. Wearied, despondent,bewildered, they, however, passed along, the ashes falling upon theirheads, the fragmentary stones dashing up in sparkles before their feet.
'Alas! alas!' murmured Ione, 'I can go no farther; my steps sink amongthe scorching cinders. Fly, dearest!--beloved, fly! and leave me to myfate!'
'Hush, my betrothed! my bride! Death with thee is sweeter than lifewithout thee! Yet, whither--oh! whither, can we direct ourselvesthrough the gloom? Already it seems that we have made but a circle, andare in the very spot which we quitted an hour ago.'
'O gods! yon rock--see, it hath riven the roof before us! It is deathto move through the streets!'
'Blessed lightning! See, Ione--see! the portico of the Temple ofFortune is before us. Let us creep beneath it; it will protect us fromthe showers.'
He caught his beloved in his arms, and with difficulty and labor gainedthe temple. He bore her to the remoter and more sheltered part of theportico, and leaned over her, that he might shield her, with his ownform, from the lightning and the showers! The beauty and theunselfishness of love could hallow even that dismal time!
'Who is there?' said the trembling and hollow voice of one who hadpreceded them in their place of refuge. 'Yet, what matters?--the crushof the ruined world forbids to us friends or foes.'
Ione turned at the sound of the voice, and, with a faint shriek, coweredagain beneath the arms of Glaucus: and he, looking in the direction ofthe voice, beheld the cause of her alarm. Through the darkness glaredforth two burning eyes--the lightning flashed and lingered athwart thetemple--and Glaucus, with a shudder, perceived the lion to which he hadbeen doomed couched beneath the pillars--and, close beside it, unwittingof the vicinity, lay the giant form of him who had accosted them--thewounded gladiator, Niger.
That lightning had revealed to each other the form of beast and man; yetthe instinct of both was quelled. Nay, the lion crept nearer and nearerto the gladiator, as for companionship; and the gladiator did not recedeor tremble. The revolution of Nature had dissolved her lighter terrorsas well as her wonted ties.
While they were thus terribly protected, a group of men and women,bearing torches, passed by the temple. They were of the congregation ofthe Nazarenes; and a sublime and unearthly emotion had not, indeed,quelled their awe, but it had robbed awe of fear. They had longbelieved, according to the error of the early Christians, that the LastDay was at hand; they imagined now that the Day had come.
'Woe! woe!' cried, in a shrill and piercing voice, the elder at theirhead. 'Behold! the Lord descendeth to judgment! He maketh fire comedown from heaven in the sight of men! Woe! woe! ye strong and mighty!Woe to ye of the fasces and the purple! Woe to the idolater and theworshipper of the beast! Woe to ye who pour forth the blood of saints,and gloat over the death-pangs of the sons of God! Woe to the harlot ofthe sea!--woe! woe!'
And with a loud and deep chorus, the troop chanted forth along the wildhorrors of the air, 'Woe to the harlot of the sea!--woe! woe!'
The Nazarenes paced slowly on, their torches still flickering in thestorm, their voices still raised in menace and solemn warning, till,lost amid the windings in the streets, the darkness of the atmosphereand the silen
ce of death again fell over the scene.
There was one of the frequent pauses in the showers, and Glaucusencouraged Ione once more to proceed. Just as they stood, hesitating,on the last step of the portico, an old man, with a bag in his righthand and leaning upon a youth, tottered by. The youth bore a torch.Glaucus recognized the two as father and son--miser and prodigal.
'Father,' said the youth, 'if you cannot move more swiftly, I must leaveyou, or we both perish!'
'Fly, boy, then, and leave thy sire!'
'But I cannot fly to starve; give me thy bag of gold!' And the youthsnatched at it.
'Wretch! wouldst thou rob thy father?'
'Ay! who can tell the tale in this hour? Miser, perish!'
The boy struck the old man to the ground, plucked the bag from hisrelaxing hand, and fled onward with a shrill yell.
'Ye gods!' cried Glaucus: 'are ye blind, then, even in the dark? Suchcrimes may well confound the guiltless with the guilty in one commonruin. Ione, on!--on!'