CHAPTER VIII
PAESTUM AND POMPEII
"There is said to be one vehicle in Paestum," remarked Uncle Jim, asthey reached the little station, "and as we are not the only passengerson this train we might as well make up our minds in advance whether weshall fight for it or walk."
"Walk," was the unanimous response, and after checking their luggagethey started up a long, dusty road. Some distance from the station anarch spanned the roadway. "It must have been part of an old town wall,"said Marion, and at the same moment a tall, short-skirted woman cametoward them, carrying a large stone water jar on her head. In an instantIrma had focussed her camera, aiming it just as the woman was in thecenter of the arch.
"She doesn't seem to object," murmured Aunt Caroline. The woman was nowclose to them, and as she passed them she did not even deign to smile orto look at them directly.
"The Temples! The Temples!" A few minutes later Irma gave an exclamationof delight.
"How beautiful--with the view of the sea beyond," added Aunt Caroline.
Then all stood still. Before them, with a background of blue sea andbluer sky, rose the two great temples, the largest of the three edificesthat are now practically the sole remains of a once greatcity--Poseidonia--founded six hundred years before Christ, by colonistsfrom Sybaris in Greece.
"Outside of Athens, there are no finer temples left standing in theworld!" said Uncle Jim.
"Until I read it in my guidebook to-day, I thought one had to go toGreece to see Greek temples," added Irma.
"Oh, there are several in Sicily," rejoined Marion, in what Irma toherself called his "high and mighty tone," a tone that always made herfeel that he despised her lack of knowledge.
"Yes," said Aunt Caroline, "but for those of us who are not going nowto Greece or Sicily, these are worth printing on our memories. I daresay, Marion, with your exactness, you would like to walk around them andmeasure them to see whether they are what they are represented to be.Irma and I will content ourselves with general impressions."
"I might verify the fact that the Temple of Neptune is one hundred andninety-six feet long and seventy-nine feet wide, but it would be harderfor me to prove without a ladder that each of the thirty-six columns istwenty-eight feet high," responded Marion good naturedly.
"No, no," cried Aunt Caroline, "no such uninteresting facts! All I wishto remember is the soft, mellow brown of the whole structure and itsnoble proportions."
Then, looking to the slightly smaller structure at the left, she added,"The Basilica is less complete and less imposing. It has something ofthe attractiveness of a younger sister."
"I don't like its color as well, but I suppose both are faded."
"Undoubtedly, though originally they were both covered with stucco toimitate marble; the pediment was adorned with sculptures, and the templeheld other works of art."
They were now crossing the rough field between them and the Temple ofNeptune. Some of those who had come with them in the train werewandering about the interior--if a roofless space without walls may becalled an interior--and a larger group had gone with the uniformed guidetoward the more distant Temple of Ceres.
"That pinkish flower over there must be asphodel," said Uncle Jim. "Nowdon't rush to gather it, Irma. It would be far wiser to sit here andtest the luncheon the padrone provided for us. Here is a good place, andMarion will open the box."
As Uncle Jim made room at the base of a great Doric column, Irma gave alittle scream.
"Oh, it's only a little lizard--no, two little lizards, and you can'tblame them for showing alarm at a party of American invaders. Why, evenMarion doesn't object to them."
A deep flush rose on Marion's cheek. Irma was looking at him as UncleJim spoke, and saw that he pressed his lips tightly, as if to suppressan angry reply.
"Before he opens the box," continued Uncle Jim, whose spirits wererising, "I can tell exactly what that pasteboard receptaclecontains,--two hard-boiled eggs for each of us, a fine assortment ofchicken legs and wings, some butter, some salt, several unbuttered rollsalmost too hard to eat, and an orange apiece."
"You must have prepared the menu yourself," said Irma, laughing; "forthings are absolutely what you said, except," and she opened a littlepackage, "here is a piece of cheese."
"Oh, yes, I forgot the cheese. But I have opened too many Italianluncheon boxes not to know what to expect, and in ten years they haven'tchanged."
"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," whined a small voice in their ears.Looking about, Irma saw a girl of twelve or fourteen, with a shawl overher head, carrying her hand to her mouth in the well-known gesture ofhunger.
"_Muore di fame_ (I am dying of hunger)," she repeated, standing infront of the four picnickers, while at the same time she turned her headfrom side to side as if fearing some one's approach.
"It is the _custode_," exclaimed Uncle Jim; "begging here on Governmentproperty is probably against the rules, and she fears he will returnbefore we have given her all our luncheon."
"No, no," he cried, but the girl reached out her hand as if to snatch.
"Oh, give her something," cried Marion, "or at least I will; the poorthing may be starving."
"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," repeated the girl, catching thesympathetic note in his voice. Then, just as he had given her a roll anda chicken leg she took to her heels, disappearing over a hedge of bushesbetween the temple enclosure and a partly ploughed field that stretchedbetween them and the sea.
A moment later the _custode_ came around the corner of the temple, thusexplaining the girl's sudden flight. At the same time two dogs appeared,sniffing for their share of the luncheon. More polite than the girl,however, when told to go away, they went off some distance, sitting ontheir haunches and still eyeing the party hungrily.
It was now Irma's turn to be sympathetic.
"That little one makes me think of Nap, and I just can't help givinghim a wing with something on it."
"Just wait until we have finished."
Obedient to this suggestion, Irma waited, and at last there was a goodheap of bones as well as some scraps of bread on which the two littlecreatures fell greedily.
Later, making her way with difficulty over the brambles, Irma reachedthe grass beyond the strip of ploughed land. She carried a littlepackage containing rolls, an orange or two, and a little chicken. Shehad gone ahead of the others to get a photograph from this point ofview. She had already taken nearer views of portions of the columns andbase with Aunt Caroline posed for comparative size, looking a veritablepigmy.
The temples, with the background of hills, were less imposing from theother side. The eye could not help seeing not only the temple, but a lotof ugly little houses in the far background near the station.
"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," cried two voices, one after theother. The girl with the shawl had crept up behind Irma, and a largergirl stood beside her. The first girl was a pitiable object, yet Irmaknew that she had lately had something to keep her from starvation. Theother was fairly well dressed, and for her Irma felt no sympathy. Infact the two had a manner so impertinent that she took no notice of theoft-repeated monotonous "_Muore di fame_."
But she cast anxious glances toward the temples. Why did her uncle andaunt delay coming! Then she caught a glimpse of them just entering theBasilica. One of her tormentors now jerked her skirt, the other shookher hand in her face.
Irma waved them back, crying, "_Andate, andate_" (go away, go away), inAunt Caroline's most effective tone.
The girls grew bolder and dashed at Irma as if to take both her cameraand her package. Yet Irma, though frightened, was determined not tosurrender either.
At last, when she attempted to call for help, she could not make asound loud enough to be heard by her uncle or aunt. Of course she hadnot stood still all this time, but with one girl clutching her dress shecould not move fast, especially as she was now in the ploughed ground,into which her feet sank deeper with every step. There was no occasionto fear, as the girls could accompli
sh no very desperate deed beforehelp came, but Irma's spirit was up, and her nerves irritated by theconstant "_Muore di fame_." So she held the package of food more closelythan the camera, and the older girl, watching her chance, rushed offwith it, while the other, making a dash at Irma's head, tore off herhat.
"WITH ONE GIRL CLUTCHING HER DRESS, SHE COULD NOT MOVEFAST." (_Page 132._)]
"Help, help," cried Irma, finding her voice as the amateur brigands rantoward the road. Then, almost at the same moment, something flew pasther so quickly that she could hardly tell what it was. A minute later hehad reached the two girls, who were unaware of the avenger's presenceuntil too late to escape. When the flying figure stood still Irmarecognized Marion, and a moment later he was back at her side, holdingtriumphantly aloft the hat and the camera.
"Did they hurt you?"
"Is it ruined?" The two young people spoke in one breath.
"No, of course they didn't hurt me," responded Marion, with someindignation, while Irma wondered why a little stream of blood trickleddown his cheek.
"No," said Irma, in the same tone, "of course my hat isn't ruined," andshe smoothed out the crushed ribbon bows, and plucked off one of thewings that had been broken in the tussle.
Then Marion wiping his face discovered a scratch. "I thought one ofthose girls had mighty sharp claws," he said, and Irma, opening her bag,presented him with a strip of thin court-plaster from the case John Wallhad given her as a parting present, and then they retraced their stepstoward the Basilica, where their elders were awaiting them.
"You haven't explored the temples," said Aunt Caroline. "You can get avery good idea of the interior by examining the stones that show theposition of the altar, and----"
"Oh, I don't care about temples now, not until I have studied more. Ijust like to look about and wonder what the town was like with all itspeople moving here, when these fields were streets, or----"
"There, there," interposed Aunt Caroline. "When I look about, I can onlythink that in a solitary place like this I should hate to be attacked bybrigands. At the present moment we are monarchs of all we survey. Eventhe _custode_ is lost to sight, though perhaps he'd appear if we were inreal danger."
"I didn't find him of much use," she began, but at a warning glancefrom Marion, she was silent.
"I wish we had time to go down by the sea, where the Greeks originallylanded. As it's much lower land, the temples must show up wonderfullywell."
"You must give up the seashore this time. We can barely catch the train,after visiting the Temple of Ceres. Come, children."
But Irma and Marion remained seated.
"Oh, Aunt Caroline, we'd rather wait a while; we'll go back part way bythe town wall, and meet you under the Siren's Arch, that would be muchmore fun. You can dig for the Roman remains that they say lie hidden inthat field over there. You know this is one of the towns that remainedfaithful to Rome in Hannibal's time. Ugh," concluded Marion suddenly,wincing, as if in pain.
"Oh, it's nothing," he replied to Irma's inquiries. "Perhaps I ran toohard in the field over there. You were a brick not to tell Aunt Carolineabout it; she would have come down on me mighty hard."
Though Irma did not understand Marion's meaning, she thanked him forrecovering her camera.
"It was nothing at all; the little wretches were probably more thanhalf in fun and wouldn't have dared keep it long, with the _custode_likely to pounce on them, for I suppose one of them, at least, lives inthat miserable little house beyond the fence. But it's strange thatUncle Jim didn't ask about the court-plaster on my face. His eyes aregenerally so sharp. But see what I've found for you," he concluded,picking up something near the base of the great, weather-beaten columnbeside which they sat.
Irma gave an exclamation of delight as he put in her hand a small pieceof the travertine that in some way had been broken off from the column,inside which was a tiny shell,--a shell now exposed to the light for thefirst time in the more than two thousand years since the temples werebuilt. When she had tied this up in a corner of her handkerchief, andhad pressed two of the pink blossoms that Uncle Jim called "asphodel"between the leaves of her notebook, Irma felt that she indeed had begunto collect classical trophies.
From the old town wall, several sections of which are still in faircondition, Marion and Irma took their last view of Paestum and thesurrounding plain. "I suppose the old Poseidonians used to go up in thatcorner tower and watch for their enemies," said Marion.
"Well, Aunt Caroline and Uncle Jim are not enemies, yet we can watch forthem. Ah, there we are! And if we return to the road now we can reachthe station ten minutes ahead of them and have time to select post cardsbefore train time."
"It will be dusk," said Aunt Caroline, as they took their places in thecrowded train, "before we reach Pompeii. I am sorry we have to give upthe beautiful Amalfi drive on the high, rocky road above the sea. Butthat rainy day at Cava was a lost day, and the telegram your unclereceived as we left Naples requires him to hurry to Rome to keep abusiness engagement. To-morrow, Pompeii, and the morning after we leaveNaples for Rome."
Of the Amalfi drive Irma caught a glimpse from a curve in the roadabove picturesque Salerno, and even away from the sea, looking towardthe mountains they had glimpses of snow-clad peaks in strange contrastwith the summer-like aspect of the country nearer them. But the peopleshe saw at the stations along the way interested Irma almost more thanthe scenery. At Salerno station, especially, there were peasants of avery strange type. One man with a beard of long growth, in coat andtrousers of sacking, carried a long axe, as if bound for the woods.Another brigandish creature with khaki trousers and a slouched hat worea long black cloak, an end of which was thrown over his shoulders. Twogirls setting out on a journey wept bitterly, as an old gray-headedwoman kissed them good-by. One carried her belongings in two fairlylarge baskets, and the other had a white sacking bag for hers, with afew extra things tied up in a black handkerchief. The girls wore nohats, but like all the other women at the station they had their hairelaborately bedecked with combs, front, back, and side combs, until Irmawondered how their heads could bear the weight. _Carbonieri_, with theirpicturesque cocked hats, strutted across the platform. A railroadofficial with red pipings on his hat and gilt buttons on his coat alsoadded to the gaiety of the scene.
"What are we waiting for?" at last Marion cried impatiently.
"The horn man doesn't dare blow until every one in Salerno visits thistrain."
At this moment the little man with brass buttons on his coat blew hissmall brass trumpet, and the train set off for Pompeii, still a coupleof hours away.
From Pompeii Irma wrote her first long letter to Gertrude, long incomparison with the one sent from the ship. But she had plenty of timethat evening after dinner, and though tired after her hours of strollingin the ruined city, she felt in the mood for writing. Moreover, Gertrudehad especially asked her to describe Pompeii, and having promised, Irmaknew that the most sensible thing was to make good her promise promptly.
"My dear Gertrude," she began. "After all I am not to see Herculaneum,although you hoped I would. But a man we met to-day said we need not besorry we have no time for Herculaneum. It gave him a kind of smotheredfeeling, and he did not stay there long. They have not yet dug outenough to make it really interesting, and all the fine statues have beentaken to the Naples Museum, so there isn't so much to see yet, and it isall underground.
"But Pompeii is different. In one way it is cheerful, though at times Ihad an awfully melancholy feeling when I looked about at those rooflessbuildings and remembered how they had been destroyed, with thousands ofpeople, all in an instant. Our hotel is close to the entrance, in factmy bedroom window looks out on the gate, and when I went to bed itseemed uncanny to be sleeping near so gruesome a place. But in themorning, when I saw two or three carriages standing there and loaferslounging about and tourists going in and out of the little curiosityshop next door, I forgot everything, except that I was a sightseer, too.
"There is nothing shut
up about Pompeii, and I am glad I left the Museumuntil the last, for that took away some of my cheerful feeling.
"I was surprised when we first began to move about, to see such enormouspaving-stones in their narrow streets, and you can hardly believe thatthe chariot wheels could wear such deep ruts. The horses' feet mustsometimes have slipped down between the stones.
"The houses have no roofs, and from the street they are so small that Icould think of nothing but playhouses. Some of them open out when you goinside and have more than one court. They all have at least one court,with rooms opening off it, and some have little fountains in the center,and sometimes the white marble basins are beautifully carved and thereis grass growing around the margin, and even bright plants and vines aretrained here and there, just as in the time of the live Pompeians.
"As you walk about you can tell which room was a kitchen and which abathroom, for they used lead pipes just like ours. In the smaller housesthe family used to spend most of their time in the atrium. The sleepingrooms were generally tiny, and the poor slaves were put in littlecubby-holes upstairs.
"The frescoes on some walls are bright, but I think our taste haschanged, for Marion and I did not admire them so very much. In onelovely house I saw where the Young Narcissus had been found. Theoriginal is in the Naples Museum, but a copy is here in its old place.Another interesting house is where they found the graceful statue of adancing faun. I saw the house that Bulwer calls the house of Glaucus, inthe 'Last Days of Pompeii,' and there in front of it is the inscriptionin mosaics, _Cave canem_, which I needn't translate for you. They arealways uncovering new houses, and one of the newest, the 'House of theVetii,' is the most beautiful, partly because they have left most of thethings in the places where they found them, instead of sending them offto museums. The frescoes here are the most fascinating little Cupidsplaying games and amusing themselves. Of course one carries away only ageneral impression of these houses. There are traces of bright coloreverywhere inside, chiefly red and yellow. The bases of many of thecolumns in the houses were one of these colors. Some streets were fullof shops--_tabernae_. Would you have known what that meant? You can seethe marble-covered counters, and the earthen jars for oil and wine andother things. One market has paintings on the walls, showing thatvarious kinds of provisions were sold there, and in a large pit in thecenter quantities of fish scales were found. Probably that was where thefish were kept. Instead of quart measures like ours, I saw a set ofmarble basins side by side, with holes in the bottom to let the liquidrun out into the buyer's jars. Most of the shops are labelled, so youcan tell what was sold there. On some walls are notices scratched, thattake the place of our posters, though Uncle Jim says they have more todo with politics than with buying and selling.
"The great baths astonished me, for they had hot and cold water anddifferent rooms for people to pass through, like a Turkish bath. Youcan't say it's a good thing that Pompeii was destroyed, but as long asit _had_ to be, it's fine that they have excavated it. To see foryourself how these people lived is better than a hundred lessons inhistory. Of course it gives you an awful feeling when you stand by thevilla of Diomedes and hear that the bodies of eighteen women andchildren were found there. They had fled to the cellar and had foodenough with them to last some time, but the ashes sifted in and theywere found with wraps over their heads and hands out trying to shieldthemselves.
"Diomedes, with keys in his hand, was at the door, and a slave carryingmoney and valuables. I haven't time to tell you about the Forum and theBasilica and the theatre. Just imagine the fifty or sixty gladiators,whose bodies were found in the gladiators' barracks! Most of them woreheavy manacles, and what they must have suffered when they found theycould not escape!
"When I walked up the street of Tombs, where you get the best view ofVesuvius, I could not help thinking that in spite of its calm appearancethe mountain is a very dangerous neighbor, and I am rather glad that wehave decided not to make the ascent.
"Afterwards when I stood on a small hill, it was hard to believe thatunder the green slopes in front of us there lay perhaps as large a partof Pompeii as they have yet uncovered. Who knows what wonderful thingsmay yet be found, though it may take more than fifty years to finish thework? It was up here that I dared pick a few tiny buttercups, that Isend you as a souvenir of Pompeii.
POMPEII.]
"The town has a bricky look as you see it from the hill, that's onereason, I suppose, why it seems so modern. After all, the greater partof the inhabitants of Pompeii escaped alive. They fled at the firstwarning. When the eruption stopped for a while, many went back for theirvaluables, or because they thought it was all over, and there were someold and sick who, perhaps, couldn't be moved at first. All these twothousand were caught in the second fearful eruption. Casts of some ofthe bodies are in the little museum on the grounds, but I hardly lookedat them, and, in fact, we spent very little time there because we hadseen the same kind of things at Naples. This is a fearfully long letter,but I hope I shall find a longer one from you at Rome, where we go fromNaples by the morning express to-morrow."