THE POMPEIAN COURT IN THE CRYSTAL PALACE.

Previous

DESCRIBED BY GEORGE SCHARF, Jun.,
F.S.A., F.R.S.L., &c.

Seal

CRYSTAL PALACE LIBRARY;
AND
BRADBURY AND EVANS, 11, BOUVERIE STREET, LONDON.
1854.


BRADBURY AND EVANS,
PRINTERS TO THE CRYSTAL PALACE COMPANY,
WHITEFRIARS.


PREFACE.

Line

In the following account of the Pompeian Court, my chief aim has been to combine simplicity with truth; relying for success on that interest which so alluring a subject is certain to create. With much gratification I avail myself of the privilege granted to an author, in his preface, of returning my best thanks to those friends who have lent me their aid in this arduous undertaking. Mr. Digby Wyatt is entitled to the gratitude of all engaged in the works of art at the Crystal Palace for the opportunities he has afforded to each artist for the display of his particular talents, and I sincerely thank him for his kindness in accompanying me through the building and affording minute information to my numerous enquiries when he could with difficulty spare the time. I beg also cordially to thank Mr. Samuel Phillips for important suggestions respecting the conduct of my work, and for his interest and encouragement in its progress. Mr. Edward Falkener is entitled to my best acknowledgments, not only for the valuable assistance rendered in his published account of a Pompeian house, but for his kindness in looking over the proofs of these pages before they were committed to press. It is to be hoped that many of his observations may appear at greater length in the next edition of this Handbook, without prejudice to the magnificent work he is contemplating on the “Domestic Architecture of Pompeii.” I sincerely thank my friend, Mr. James Morant Lockyer for the benefit of his long architectural sojourn in Pompeii; regretting, at the same time, that the public has not had the advantage of his extensive knowledge and experience.

The excellent paintings produced here in the Pompeian Court, under the direction of Signor Abbate require no commendation from me; but I feel that I shall be only expressing the sentiment of others in wishing that we may at some future period see an extension of this ancient palace, or another series of apartments in which the same abilities shall afford us accurate copies of still more of the pictorial celebrities—such as the Theseus and the Minotaur, and Hercules and Telephus, found at Herculaneum; the Sacrifice of Iphigenia and the Anger of Achilles, from the House of the Tragic Poet; also the Zephyrus and Flora, and some of the picture mosaics, the Choragus one, for instance, and the far-famed Alexander and Darius at the battle of Issus.


THE POMPEIAN COURT.
DESCRIBED BY GEORGE SCHARF, Jun.



INTRODUCTION.

DESTRUCTION OF HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII.

“Many a calamity has befallen the world ere now, yet none like this replete with instruction and delight for remote generations.”—Goethe.

View of Naples and Mount Vesuvius.

Near the modern city of Naples, at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, once stood the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Whilst the former was considerably removed from the volcano, the latter was seated immediately at the base of the mountain, on a promontory projecting into the bay.

Vesuvius was not considered dangerous by the ancient occupants of the soil, as no eruption had ever been known to take place. Strabo noticed the igneous character of its rocks, but the whole district being covered with vines and plantations, undisturbed since the memory of man, he thence assumed the fires to be extinct for want of fuel. Even the sides of the mountain were overgrown with trees, and the summit alone continued barren and rough. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood were probably less inclined to consider the possibility of danger to themselves from the existence of two active volcanoes not far from them which seemed to serve as a vent for all subterranean commotions—the one, Mount Ætna; the other, Mount Epopeus in the island now called Ischia. Ætna, the majestic snowy mountain of Sicily, more than three times the height of Vesuvius, has been known, from the earliest times, as an active volcano; and many passages in Æschylus, Pindar, Thucydides, and Diodorus Siculus might be adduced, commemorating particular eruptions, &c. Pausanias mentions an instance of the piety of two youths who saved their parents at Catana (Book 10., ch. xxviii.) during the descent of the lava which threatened to surround them. In the year 73 B.C., Spartacus, a fugitive slave, at the head of a troop of gladiators and revolters, encamped on the summit of Vesuvius, where they were blockaded. The natural ruggedness of the place, and the density of the vines, favoured their subsequent escape. This is the earliest mention of the actual appearance of the volcano. The natural beauties of the district, then called Campania, are glorified by most writers; it was more particularly celebrated for its fertility and the luxuriant magnificence of its scenery.

The convulsions of nature have indeed changed the outline of the mountain, but the varied charms of the beautiful coast remain in undiminished attraction. Deep shades and crystal streamlets, sunny banks and refreshing groves, display the natural loveliness of a locality, favoured with the most luxuriant vegetation, and the finest climate in the world. These enable us fully to comprehend the pains and trouble bestowed by the ancient Romans in building villas and marine residences in so charming a situation. Thus, in the earliest times of the empire, the more wealthy and luxurious Romans established what we moderns should denominate watering places, for fashionable resort, on the coast, BaiÆ, DicÆarchia, afterwards Puteoli, CumÆ, Neapolis, and Herculaneum, but the warm springs of the first two rendered them the most favourite resorts, and they became the Bath and Brighton of that era.

Lucullus, Pompey and CÆsar, had villas at BaiÆ, Nero spent much time there, and Caligula contributed to the celebrity of the scene by his extraordinary bridge of boats. Hadrian died at BaiÆ; and, at a later period, Alexander Severus erected many villas in the same neighbourhood. Some of the most splendid palaces were raised upon artificial foundations in the sea itself, and nothing could exceed the luxury and indolence indulged in by the visitors to these regions as depicted by some of the later poets. Horace himself speaks of the pleasant BaiÆ as the most delicious place in the world.[49] And so it may have been, and all the neighbouring cities of the bay must have partaken more or less of the same glories. Pompeii was somewhat removed from these enchanting scenes, being on the other side of the bay of Naples, and the situation was not so pleasant as that of its fellow-sufferer Herculaneum. This city stood on a promontory, open, as Strabo says, to the south wind, which made it especially healthy. In fact, the art and style of everything found at Herculaneum show it to have been the resort of a superior class of people. Pompeii is supposed to have stood on the banks of the river Sarnus. The town itself was raised upon a considerable eminence so as to be protected in a great measure from the floods that at certain times of the year devastated the surrounding plain.

[49] “Nullus in orbe sinus Baiis prÆlucet amoenis.”—Ep. bk. i. 1, line 83.

The peace and tranquillity of these beautiful regions were first disturbed by natural convulsions in the year 63 A.D. A violent earthquake on the 16th February, threw down many parts of Pompeii, and seriously injured Herculaneum; six hundred sheep were swallowed up at once, statues were split, and many persons became insane. From this period, the Pompeians were disturbed by frequent shocks of earthquake; between the first symptoms in 63 and the dreadful catastrophe which involved their destruction, evidences still exist of the persevering endeavours of the inhabitants at restoration and repair. Many mosaics have been found, which display traces of a very different order of workmanship, in, the repair of damage caused by the earthquake, from that employed in their original construction.

In the reign of the emperor Titus, A.D. 79, the celebrated eruption of Vesuvius broke out, suddenly ejecting dense clouds of ashes and pumice-stones, beneath which Herculaneum, Pompeii, and StabiÆ were completely buried. Awful as such a phenomenon must at all times appear, the event was still more appalling to the inhabitants as they were unable, in the confusion of the moment, to comprehend the source whence these horrors proceeded. An eye witness has fortunately left a detailed account of the event in two letters which are still preserved. We insert the greater part of them as best exhibiting the realities of the scene and the excitement of the unfortunate sufferers.

PLINY’S LETTER TO TACITUS.

“Your request that I would send you an account of my uncle’s death, in order to transmit a more exact relation of it to posterity, deserves my acknowledgments; for if this action shall be celebrated by your pen, the glory of it, I am well assured, will be rendered for ever illustrious. And notwithstanding he perished by a misfortune, which, as it involved at the same time a most beautiful country in ruins, and destroyed so many populous cities, seems to promise him an everlasting remembrance; notwithstanding he has himself composed many and lasting works, yet I am persuaded the mentioning of him in your immortal writings will greatly contribute to eternise his name. Happy I esteem those to be whom Providence has distinguished with the abilities either of doing such actions as are worthy of being related, or of relating them in a manner worthy of being read; but doubly happy are they who are blessed with both these uncommon talents. In the number of which my uncle, as his own writings and your history will evidently prove, may justly be ranked. It is with extreme willingness, therefore, I execute your commands; and should indeed have claimed the task if you had not enjoined it.

“He was at that time with the fleet under his command at Misenum. On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother desired him to observe a cloud which appeared of a very unusual size and shape. He had just returned from taking the benefit of the sun, and after bathing himself in cold water, and taking a slight repast, was retired to his study. He immediately arose and went out up on an eminence from whence he might more distinctly view this uncommon appearance. It was not at that distance discernible from what mountain this cloud issued, but it was found afterwards to ascend from Mount Vesuvius. I cannot give you a more exact description of its figure, than by resembling it to that of a pine tree, for it shot up a great height in the form of a trunk, which extended itself at the top into sort of branches, occasioned, I imagine, either by a sudden gust of air that impelled it, the force of which decreased as it advanced upwards, or the cloud itself being pressed back again by its own weight, expanded in this manner:—it appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted, as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinder. This extraordinary phenomenon excited my uncle’s philosophical curiosity to take a nearer view of it. He ordered a light vessel to be got ready, and gave me the liberty, if I thought it proper, to attend him; I rather chose to continue my studies; for, as it happened, he had given me an employment of that kind. As he was coming out of the house he received a note from Rectina, the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at the imminent danger which threatened her; for her villa being situated at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, there was no way to escape but by sea; she earnestly entreated him, therefore, to come to her assistance. He accordingly changed his first design, and what he began with a philosophical, he pursued with an heroical turn of mind. He ordered the galleys to put to sea, and went himself on board with an intention of assisting, not only Rectina, but several others; for the villas stand extremely thick upon that beautiful coast. When hastening to the place from whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his direct course to the point of danger, and with so much calmness and presence of mind, as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon the motion and figure of that dreadful scene. He was now so nigh the mountain, that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice stones, and black pieces of burning rock. They were likewise in danger not only of being aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, but also from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain, and obstructed all the shore. Here he stopped to consider whether he should return back again; to which the pilot advising him, ‘Fortune,’ said he, ‘befriends the brave; carry me to Pomponianus.’ Pomponianus was then at StabiÆ, separated by a gulf, which the sea, after several insensible windings, forms upon the shore. He had already sent his baggage on board; for though he was not at that time in actual danger, yet being within the view of it, and indeed extremely near, if it should in the least increase, he was determined to put to sea as soon as the wind should change. It was favourable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation. He embraced him with tenderness, encouraged and exhorted him to keep up his spirits, and the more to dissipate his fears, he ordered, with an air of unconcern, the bath to be got ready; when, after having bathed, he sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least, what is equally heroic, with all the appearance of it. In the meanwhile, the eruption from Mount Vesuvius flamed out in several places with much violence, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still more visible and dreadful. But my uncle, in order to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him it was only the burning of the villages, which the country people had abandoned to the flames; after this he retired to rest, and it is most certain he was so little discomposed as to fall into a deep sleep, for being pretty fat, and breathing hard, those who attended without, actually heard him snore. The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, if he had continued there any time longer, it would have been impossible for him to have made his way out; it was thought proper therefore to awaken him. He got up and went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were unconcerned enough to think of going to bed. They consulted together whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now shook from side to side with frequent and violent concussions, or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though light indeed, yet fell in large showers, and threatened destruction. In this distress they resolved for the fields, as the less dangerous situation of the two. A resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins, and this was their whole defence against the storm of stones that fell round them. It was now day everywhere else, but there a deeper darkness prevailed than in the most obscure night; which, however, was in some degree dissipated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought proper to go down farther upon the shore, to observe if they might safely put out to sea, but they found the waves still run extremely high and boisterous. There my uncle having drank a draught or two of cold water, threw himself down upon a cloth which was spread for him, when immediately the flames, and a strong smell of sulphur, which was the forerunner of them, dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to arise. He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, and instantly fell down, dead, suffocated, as I conjecture, by some gross and noxious vapour, having always had weak lungs, and frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing. As soon as it was light again, which was not till the third day after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, and without any marks of violence upon it, exactly in the same posture that he fell, and looking more like a man asleep than dead.

“During all this time my mother and I, who were at Misenum—but as this has no connection with your history, so your inquiry went no farther than concerning my uncle’s death; with that therefore I will put an end to my letter. Suffer me only to add, that I have faithfully related to you what I was either an eyewitness of myself, or received immediately after the accident happened, and before there was time to vary the truth.

“You will choose out of this narrative such circumstances as shall be most suitable to your purpose; for there is a great difference between what is proper for a letter and a history—between writing to a friend and writing to the public. Farewell.”

TO CORNELIUS TACITUS.

“The letter which, in compliance with your request, I wrote concerning the death of my uncle, has raised, it seems, your curiosity to know what terrors and dangers attended me, while I continued at Misenum; for there, I think, the account in my former broke off. Though my shocked soul recoils, my tongue shall tell. My uncle having left us, I pursued the studies which prevented my going with him, till it was time to bathe. After which I went to supper, and from thence to bed, where my sleep was greatly broken and disturbed. There had been for many days before some shocks of an earthquake, which the less surprised us as they are extremely frequent in Campania; but they were so particularly violent that night, that they not only shook every thing about us, but seemed indeed to threaten total destruction. My mother flew to my chamber, where she found me rising, in order to awaken her. We went out into a small court belonging to the house, which separated the sea from the buildings. As I was at that time but eighteen years of age, I know not whether I should call my behaviour in this dangerous juncture courage or rashness; but I took up Livy and amused myself with turning over that author, and even making extracts from him, as if all about me had been in full security. While we were in this posture, a friend of my uncle’s who was just come from Spain to pay a visit, joined us, and observing me sitting by my mother with a book in my hand, greatly condemned her calmness, at the same time that he reproved me for my careless security; nevertheless I still went on with my author. Though it was now morning, the light was exceedingly faint and languid; the buildings all around us tottered, and though we stood upon open ground, yet as the place was narrow and confined, there was no remaining there without certain and great danger; we therefore resolved to quit the town. The people followed us in the utmost consternation, and (as to the mind distracted with terror, every suggestion seems more prudent than its own) pressed in great crowds about us in our way out. Being got at a convenient distance from the houses, we stood still, in the midst of a most dangerous and dreadful scene. The chariots which we had ordered to be drawn out, were so agitated backwards and forwards, though upon the most level ground, that we could not keep them steady, even by supporting them with large stones. The sea seemed to roll back upon itself, and to be driven from its banks by the convulsive motion of the earth; it is certain, at least, the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea animals were left upon it. On the other side a black and dreadful cloud, bursting with an igneous serpentine vapour, darted out a long train of fire resembling flashes of lightning, but much larger. Upon this our Spanish friend, whom I mentioned above, addressing himself to my mother and me with greater warmth and earnestness, ‘If your brother and your uncle,’ said he, ‘is safe, he certainly wishes you may be so too; but if he perished, it was his desire, no doubt, that you might both survive him. Why, therefore, do you delay your escape a moment?’ ‘We could never think of our own safety,’ we said, ‘while we were uncertain of his.’ Hereupon our friend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmost precipitation. Soon afterwards the cloud seemed to descend and cover the whole ocean; as indeed it entirely hid the island of Caprea and the promontory of Misenum. My mother strongly conjured me to make my escape at any rate, which, as I was young, I might easily do; as for herself, she said, her age and corpulency rendered all attempts of that sort impossible; however, she should willingly meet death, if she could have the satisfaction of seeing that she was not the occasion of mine. But I absolutely refused to leave her, and taking her by the hand, I led her on: she complied with great reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself for retarding my flight. The ashes now begun to fall upon us, though in no great quantity; I turned my head, and observed behind us a thick smoke, which came rolling after us like a torrent. I proposed, while we had yet any light, to turn out of the high road, lest we should be pressed to death in the dark, by the crowd that followed us. We had scarce stepped out of the path, when a darkness overspread us, not like that of a cloudy night, or when there is no moon, but of a room when it is shut up, and all the lights extinct. Nothing then was to be heard but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family; some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting up their hands to the gods; but the greater part imagining that the last and eternal night was come, which was to destroy both the gods and the world together. Among these there are some who augmented the real terrors by imaginary ones, and made the frighted multitude falsely believe that Misenum was actually in flames. At length a glimmering light appeared, which we imagined to be rather the forerunner of an approaching burst of flames (as in truth it was), than the return of day; however, the fire fell at a distance from us: then again we were immersed in thick darkness, and a heavy shower of ashes rained upon us, which we were obliged every now and then to shake off, otherwise we should have been crushed and buried in the heap; I might boast that, during all this scene of horror, not a sigh or expression of fear escaped from me; had not my support been founded in that miserable, though strong consolation, that all mankind were involved in the same calamity, and that I imagined I was perishing with the world itself. At last this dreadful darkness was dissipated by degrees, like a cloud of smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun appeared, though very faintly, and as when an eclipse is coming on. Every object that presented itself to our eyes (which were extremely weakened) seemed changed, being covered over with white ashes as with a deep snow. We returned to Misenum, where we refreshed ourselves as well as we could, and passed an anxious night between hope and fear, though, indeed, with a much larger share of the latter; for the earthquake still continued, while several enthusiastic people ran up and down, heightening their own and their friend’s calamities, by terrible predictions. However, my mother and I, notwithstanding the danger we had passed, and that which still threatened us, had no thoughts of leaving the place till we should receive some account of my uncle.

“And now you will read this narrative without any view of inserting it in your history, of which it is by no means worthy; and indeed you must impute it to your own request, if it shall appear scarce to deserve even the trouble of a letter. Farewell.”



Shortly after the catastrophe all memorials of the devoted cities were lost; discussions on the places they had once occupied were excited only by some obscure passages in classical authors. Five successive eruptions contributed to bury them still deeper under the surface, and the sixth, which occurred in the year 1036, is the first instance of an emission of lava. Before that time the only agents of desolation were showers of sand, cinders, and scoriÆ, together with loose fragments of rock. Volcanic ashes poured out in a current have been known to darken the air for hours, and even for days. Such must have been the nature of the phenomenon which the younger Pliny saw and compared to a lofty pine. Dion Cassius states that the ashes of this eruption were carried as far as Africa, and that the dust was so abundant as even to darken the air in the neighbourhood of Rome. Steam poured out in vast quantities, and uniting with the ashes that fell upon Herculaneum, formed a torrent of mud, imbedding all in solid tufa, whilst the ashes of Pompeii were not impregnated, and all lay in this city loose and unconsolidated. Stones of eight pounds weight fell on Pompeii, whilst StabiÆ was overwhelmed with fragments of about an ounce in weight, which must have drifted in immense quantities. During a later eruption fine ashes were borne by the wind as far as Constantinople. Whilst the ancient cities thus lay buried and forgotten, Neapolis, the residence and burial-place of Virgil,[50] grew into the great modern city of Naples, extending its suburban villages along the shore, and connecting itself by a chain of houses to the very roots of Vesuvius. The next town to Naples is Portici. It contains 6000 inhabitants. Immediately adjoining Portici is the still larger town of Resina, with a population of 11,000 souls. These bustling and much frequented places are built upon the lava which covers Herculaneum.

[50] See Portrait Gallery, No. 121.

DISCOVERY OF THE ANCIENT CITIES.

Part of the Bay of Naples, showing the relative positions of Naples, Herculaneum, Pompeii, and StabiÆ to Mount Vesuvius.

Large map.

In the year 1689, during some excavations in the plain at the foot of Vesuvius, where it was subsequently proved that Pompeii had flourished, a workman observed the regularity with which successive layers of earth and volcanic matter had been deposited. He compared them to pavements one upon the other; with remains of burnt vegetation, charcoal, and common earth beneath each volcanic deposit. Under one of these dense masses of scoria, dust, and pumice stone, he found large quantities of carbonised timber, locks, and iron work, evidently the remains of habitations, which, together with some old keys, and inscriptions giving the name of the locality, satisfied the learned of the day that they belonged to the ancient city of Pompeii. (Venuti, p. 37. MÉm. de l’AcadÉmie Fran.; MÉm. de LittÉrature, tom. xv. Des Embrasemens du Mont VÉsuve, and also Bianchini, Istoria Universale, Roma, 1699, p. 246. Cochin, p. 31). The discovery created little excitement at the time; the government was indisposed to prosecute the research, and no farther excavation was carried on till the year 1749.

Meanwhile, the accidental sinking of a well in another place brought to light such treasures of art as to induce a systematic exploration in a more profitable locality. This was in the neighbourhood of Naples, where after seventeen centuries the city of Herculaneum was once more rescued from oblivion. The circumstances which led to the discovery are briefly these. The prince D’Elboeuf, of the house of Lorraine, came to Naples in 1706 (Cochin, p. 35), and ordered the construction of a marine villa for himself at Portici, in 1711. (Venuti, p. 38. Gori, Admiranda, p. 39.) He had a Frenchman in his service, who possessed the art of making a durable stucco from pulverised marble, and as many fragments of antique marbles as possible were collected for the manufacture of his composition. One day a countryman presented himself, asserting that in sinking a well at Resina (Venuti, p. 39), he had discovered a variety of precious marbles, some of which he had brought with him as specimens. These marbles were so beautiful and rare, that the prince was induced to purchase of the man the right of further excavation, and he immediately commenced a systematic course of exploration upon that spot. The stucco prepared by the Frenchman was not only an imitation of precious marbles, but also a cement similar to that employed by the ancients. Most of the antique buildings were so plastered internally, as it was harder and more durable than marble in its natural state. The excavators, therefore, were more delighted when they found large plain slabs and shafts of columns than elaborately carved foliage and statues, because the latter afforded them a smaller quantity of actual material. Stendardo was appointed to direct the works which were carried on branching sideways from the well, just above the level of the water; (Gori, p. 40. Venuti, p. 39. Cochin, p. 37;) at the expiration of two days, they found a statue of Hercules, evidently from a Grecian chisel, and they remarked with astonishment that it had formerly been restored (Gori, p. 40). Some days after this they came upon a female statue, which was at once pronounced to be a Cleopatra (Gori, p. 40). They next extricated a large square mass of marble, and upon removing a crust of bituminous matter it was found to be the architrave of a gateway, with letters of bronze inlaid into the surface. The inscription was

APPIVS. PVLCHER. CAII. FILIVS.
VIR. EPVLONVM.
(Venuti, p. 39.)

Many columns of variegated alabaster were next discovered, and this led to the excavation of a circular temple, with twenty-four columns, and statues of Greek marble between them (Gori, p. 41). The pavement of this building was constructed of that rich yellow marble, called Giallo antico, and many columns of the same material lay in the vicinity. Seven of the twelve figures belonging to the temple were female, executed in a superior Grecian style. Prince Elboeuf dispatched them to Vienna as a present to Prince Eugene of Savoy (Venuti, p. 39). The best of these statues were afterwards sold to the King of Poland for 60,000 scudi; they are now at Dresden, and engraved in plates 19 to 26 of Becker’s “Augusteum” (Winckelmann, Werke, vol. ii. p. 135). The prince evidently knew very little of the real value of his discoveries, and during the next five years continued disinterring pieces of mosaic alabaster slabs, and a few statues, some of which decorated his villa, and the rest were sent over to France. Upon the discovery of a beautiful statue of one of the daughters of Balbus, the state interfered, and the Neapolitan government prohibited any further excavations. For thirty years the site was almost forgotten. In 1736, the King Carlo III. (Borbone) resolved to build a palace at Portici, and the ancient well was once more resorted to. The excavations were resumed, and very important results followed.

Animated discussions were still maintained respecting the name of the ancient city, for a city the excavations had already proved it to be. A communication to the Royal Society by a Mr. Sloane, in 1740, exhibits the matter as still in a state of uncertainty. The Marquis Venuti, keeper of the Farnese library which Carlo Borbone had inherited from Rome, was appointed superintendent of the excavations at Resina. He has left minute records of his proceedings both in the “Admiranda Notizia,” 2 et. seq., of Gori, and in his own work published at Venice and London, 1750. He commenced 12th November, 1738, by carrying on a kind of tunnel laterally from the old well. In a short time (Venuti, p. 40. Gori, p. 42) two bronze equestrian statues were found, and soon after three full length marble figures, larger than life, of Roman dignitaries, dressed in the toga, with massive piers of brick between, plastered with stucco, and painted with arabesques in various colours. The excavators had now reached the interior of the theatre, which the numerous seats and steps clearly indicated. An inscription, moreover, on the architrave contained part of the word Theatre, the name of the person at whose cost the building was erected, and that of the architect. A second inscription on the corresponding architrave of the opposite side is almost a repetition:—

Text

L. ANNIVS. L. F. MAMMIANVS. RVFVS. IIVIR. QVINQ. THEATR... O....
P. NVMISIVS. ARC... TEC...

(Gori, p. 42. Venuti, p. 42.)

These architraves covered the side entrances to the orchestra, and both of them supported a colossal group in bronze of a chariot and two horses. The central group of the building was a quadriga, and probably represented the emperor in his chariot with four horses. All these bronze statues had been gilt. Some fine columns of rosso antico were transported to the cathedral of Naples, and others to the Royal Palace; they appear to have adorned the proscenium (Venuti, p. 71). The theatre was one of the most perfect specimens of ancient architecture. It had, from the floor, upwards of eighteen rows of seats (Gori, 44), and above these three other rows which seem to have been intended for the female part of the audience, and were covered with a portico to screen them from the rays of the sun. Statues of Drusus and Antonia, and of the nine Muses, were found in other parts of the building. A bronze colossal statue of Titus filled with lead (Gori, p. 45) was so heavy that twelve men were unable to move it. Many other bronze statues of municipal authorities and benefactors were found with their respective inscriptions.

The theatre was capable of containing 8000 persons. Nearly the whole of its surface, as well as the arched walks leading to the seats, was cased with marble. The area or pit was floored with thick squares of giallo antico, the beautiful marble of a yellowish hue. The pedestal, of white marble, which supported a chariot and four bronze horses, is still to be seen in its place; but the group itself had been crushed and broken in pieces by the immense weight of lava which fell on it. The fragments having been collected, might have been easily reunited, but they were carelessly thrown into a corner, like old iron, and part of them were stolen. The body of one horse and part of the charioteer, being deemed useless, were accordingly fused, to be converted into two large framed medallions of their Neapolitan Majesties. The remaining fragments were cast into the vaults of the royal palace; and, at last, it was resolved to make the best use of what was left; which was, to convert the four horses into one, by taking a fore leg of one of them, a hinder leg of another, the head of a third, and where the breach was irremediable, to cast a new piece. To this contrivance, the famous bronze horse now in the Museum owes its existence; and, considering its patchwork origin, still conveys a high idea of the skill of the ancient artist. A pompous inscription upon its pedestal records the circumstances of its construction (Bronzi di Ercolano, vol. ii., page 255).

On the south side of the theatre, stood a basilica or public building which contained the celebrated equestrian statues of the Balbi—of one block of marble (Gori, p. 59),—These fine statues possess the additional value of having finally set at rest the question respecting the proper name of the city. On the front of the pedestals is inscribed—

M. NONIO. M. F.
BALBO. PR. PRO. COS.
HERCVLANENSES.

(Gerhard, Neapel. p. 22. Gori, p. 167. Venuti, p. 59.)

The certainty of this city having been the ancient Herculaneum is said to have materially increased the energy of the excavators. In the same basilica were found the famous pictures of Hercules and Telephus, Theseus and the Minotaur, and many others, together with bronze statues of Nero and Germanicus, and a Vespasian, with two sitting figures of marble, nine feet high. The streets of the city were paved with blocks of lava, they were flanked with causeways, and lined with porticos. The private buildings, which resembled those of Pompeii, were very difficult of access, from the nature of the material that overwhelmed them, and could only be examined in small portions at a time. No maps of sufficient accuracy have been laid down of the earliest excavations, and it will be better to reserve all accounts of domestic arrangements till we can illustrate them by the Pompeian remains. One large villa, however, seems to have been a very important structure. It was surrounded by a garden enclosed within a square wall and ditch. The floors were ornamented with beautiful mosaics and the halls contained a rich variety of busts and statues. One of the chambers served the purpose of a bath; another, supposed to have been a sacrarium, was painted with serpents, and within it was found a brazen tripod, containing cinders and ashes; but the most curious discovery of all, was an apartment in this villa used as a library, and fitted up with wooden presses around the walls, about six feet in height; a double row of presses stood in the middle of the room, so as to admit of a free passage on every side. The wood of which the presses had been made was burned to a cinder, and gave way at the first touch; but the volumes, composed of a much more perishable substance, the Egyptian or Syracusan papyrus, were, although completely carbonised, through the effect of the heat, still so far preserved as to admit of their removal. A number of these supposed pieces of charcoal were at first carried off, which by accidental fracture exposed the remains of letters and proved to be so many ancient manuscripts. The Greek manuscripts consisted of rolls scarcely a foot in length, and but two or three inches in thickness. Some had a label in front, at one end of the roll, with the name of the work or the author, which was visible from its place in the library.[51]

[51] See a Pompeian painting described at p. 50, Cubiculum 3.

The sixteen centuries during which the substances had been crushed together, rendered it almost hopeless to unroll, and still less to decipher them; but Camillo Paderni devoted twelve days to the occupation underground, and succeeded in carrying away 337 manuscripts. Almost all are in Greek, very few in Latin, and some of the rolls are forty or fifty feet in length. The lines are arranged in columns across the shortest surface, as in our newspapers, each line extending only about two or three inches in length. The greater part of the works in this collection relate to Epicurean philosophy. Their decipherment has naturally occupied much of the attention of the learned, and many of the manuscripts have been published at Oxford.

The condition of Herculaneum was at the period of its discovery more interesting and much more worthy the notice of the traveller than it is at present. The object of its excavation having unfortunately been confined to the discovery of statues, paintings, and other curiosities, and not carried on with a view to lay open the city, and thus to ascertain the features of its buildings and streets, most of the latter were again filled up with rubbish as soon as they were divested of everything moveable. Even the marble was torn from the temples.

Herculaneum may therefore be said to have been overwhelmed a second time by its modern discoverers; and the appearance it previously presented can now only be ascertained from the accounts of those who beheld it in a more perfect state. The existence of the large towns of Portici and Resina overhead render it impossible for many parts of the excavations to remain open to the sky; one portion, however, was allowed to be so until the sinking of the main road, subject to incessant traffic, compelled the government to have the undercuttings filled in, and the apertures blocked up. A part of the city nearer to the mountain has been thrown open and the sun is again permitted to shine upon gardens and habitations now desolate and mouldering.

From the hard nature of the rock at Herculaneum, the city was for a long time supposed to have been buried in lava, and the darkness and obscurity of the passages prevented the discovery of the truth. But now, since daylight has been admitted, the whole mass is found to be nothing more than hard tufa, rendered, at the lower parts, still more compact by the percolation of water, which in all cases leaves the finest possible sediment. Lava is stone that has been actually melted, and flows over the surface in the same way as molten iron issues from a furnace. The beds of real lava may be easily distinguished in the upper levels of the earth laid open in these excavations. All the timber of the houses has been completely reduced to charcoal, but every beam was found perfect as to shape and in its proper position; many of the bronzes, however, were melted. These effects seem to be the result of an intense heat diffused through the entire mass at a subsequent period; for, at the time of the first eruption, great quantities of boiling water appear to have been mixed with the fine dust and scoria, the same materials that fell dry and loose upon Pompeii.

An entrance from the road at Resina to the excavations was formed in 1750. It is still the only means of access to the most important buildings, and consists of a narrow passage cut through the solid lava. The ancient city lies at a depth of seventy feet below the modern level.

The great difficulty of excavating Herculaneum, on account of the soil above being occupied by crowded habitations, induced the government to turn their attention more particularly to Pompeii.

“Nearly seventeen centuries had rolled away when the City of Pompeii was disinterred from its silent tomb, all vivid with undimmed hues; its walls fresh as if painted yesterday, not a hue faded on the rich mosaic of its floors; in its forum the half-finished columns as left by the workman’s hands; in its gardens the sacrificial tripod; in its halls the chest of treasure; in its baths the strigil; in its theatres the counter of admission; in its saloons the furniture and the lamp; in its triclinia the fragments of the last feast; in its cubicula the perfumes and the rouge of faded beauty; and everywhere the bones and skeletons of those who once moved the springs of that minute, yet gorgeous machine of luxury and of life.

“In the house of Diomed, in the subterranean vaults, twenty skeletons (one of a babe) were discovered in one spot by the door, covered by a fine ashen dust, that had evidently been wafted slowly through the apertures, until it had filled the whole space. There were jewels and coins, candelabra for unavailing light, and wine hardened in the amphorÆ for a prolongation of agonised life. The sand, consolidated by damps, had taken the forms of the skeletons as in a cast; and the traveller may yet see the impression of a female neck and bosom of young and round proportions.

“It seems to the inquirer as if the air had been gradually changed into a sulphurous vapour; the inmates of the vaults had rushed to the door to find it closed and blocked up by the scoria without, and, in their attempts to force it, had been suffocated with the atmosphere.

“In the garden was found a skeleton with a key by its bony hand, and near it a bag of coins. This is believed to have been the master of the house, who had probably sought to escape by the garden, and been destroyed either by the vapours or some fragment of stone. Beside some silver vases lay another skeleton, probably of a slave.

“The houses of Sallust and of Pansa, the temple of Isis, with the juggling concealments behind the statues—the lurking place of its holy oracles—are now bared to the gaze of the curious. In one of the chambers of that temple was found a huge skeleton with an axe by the side of it: two walls had been pierced by the axe—the victim could penetrate no farther. In the midst of the city was found another skeleton, by the side of which was a heap of coins and many of the mystic ornaments of the fane of Isis.”[52]

[52] Bulwer’s “Last Days of Pompeii.”

Linen and fishing nets; loaves of bread with the impress of the baker’s name; even fruits, as walnuts, almonds, peach-stones, and chestnuts, were distinctly recognisable. Eggs have been found whole and empty, and a jar of oil had olives still floating in it; the oil burnt upon application of flame, but the fruit was flavourless. Very few jewels were discovered, which shows that the inhabitants had time to escape; a wooden comb was found with teeth on both sides, closer on one side than the other. Lace fabricated of pure gold, a folding parasol similar to those now in use, a case of surgeon’s instruments, balances, sculptors’ tools, chisels and compasses, writing materials, vessels of white cut and coloured glass, coals collected for fuel, and wine still remaining in jars, may all be found in the curious catalogue of articles that had braved the lapse of time. Other circumstances there are which claim our better feelings. At the city gate, the sentinel, faithful to his trust, was found in his sentry box, a skeleton, clothed in

“The very armour he had on,”

when his dreadful doom overtook him; in the barracks, near the triangular forum, malefactors were found in the public stocks; the crumbling remains of prisoners were discovered in the dungeons near the temple of Jupiter, no one in that hour of general horror and confusion having thought of them or of their wretchedness, in being thus immured alive. The bones of the ass, that worked the baker’s mill, were found there; the skeletons of horses remained in the cribs in which they had been stabled for the last time.

The discoveries that had been made long before the arrival of Prince Elboeuf, and which were communicated to the French Academy of Science, 1689, were remembered by the Neapolitan Government, and in the beginning of the year 1749 we have the first authentic reference to the ancient city of Pompeii. “On the 18th of January, at a place called Civita,” so runs the official announcement, “not far from Torre dell’ Annunciata, where the ancient Pompeii may have been, was found an apartment decorated with sixteen charming little dancing females brightly coloured, two centaurs and figures, bands of arabesques forming panels with Cupids in the midst, and twelve fauns dancing on a rope, all upon a black ground.” (Pitture d’Ercolano, vol. i., p. 93, tavole 17 to 28, and vol. iii., tavole 28 to 35 inclusive.) They are very small figures, and have since been removed to the Museo Borbonico. About the same time a labourer, whilst ploughing in the neighbouring fields, found a statue of brass.

Among the earliest buildings excavated at Pompeii was the Amphitheatre; it was cleared in 1755, and seems to have been capable of holding ten thousand people (Pompeiana, p. 259). In the amphitheatre, games were held, gladiators fought for their lives with wild beasts, or with one another, and these savage spectacles were under the particular superintendence of an edile. We are informed by Dion Cassius, that the eruption came on whilst the populace were assembled in the theatre, but which of the theatres is meant, as there were several, remains doubtful. Thus far is certain, that sufficient time was left for escape, as no skeletons were found in either of them. From the seats of this amphitheatre may certainly be obtained the grandest view of the mountain, and if, as Bulwer’s admirable romance “the Last Days of Pompeii” depicts it, the assembly was held on this spot, the first signs of the coming destruction would have been seen by all the multitude. An announcement connected with these performances has since been discovered upon the walls of the Basilica. A placard—the playbill of those times—announced that the troops of gladiators belonging to Ampliatus would contend in the amphitheatre on the 17th of May, and that another exhibition would take place on the 31st, exactly three months before the destruction of the city.

The Temple of Isis was accidentally discovered in 1765, by some workmen employed in making a subterraneous aqueduct to Torre dell’ Annunciata. These discoveries induced Charles III. to transfer his attention exclusively to Pompeii (Pompeiana, p. 5). The Triangular Forum, the Temple of Æsculapius, and the two great theatres were all laid open in the course of two or three successive years. These buildings are all in the same quarter of the town, but quite remote from the great forum and public buildings which were not discovered until 1816.

It is a remarkable fact that Fontana, the great architect, carried a subterraneous canal in 1592 directly under the court of the Temple of Isis. He was employed to convey the waters of the river Sarno to the town of Torre dell’ Annunziata; and it seems wonderful that the existence of this interesting city was not made known at the time.

The situation of Pompeii, as it originally stood upon an elevation surrounded by a fertile plain, is well shown in the accompanying view. The eminence marked in the woodcut by the long pale light mounds on the right between the tower of a farm-house and the base of the volcano, is the site of the city. Pompeii was never buried beneath the surface of the ground; on the contrary, many of its walls were always conspicuous, as, for instance, that at the back of the tragic theatre. The locality seems to have been known to the peasants of the vicinity by the name of civita (city). The rains of successive seasons may probably have carried away most of the stones and ashes that fell around the city, whilst the walls of the houses themselves would serve to retain all that had fallen upon them.

Other villas also were excavated at Gragnano, the ancient StabiÆ, and most of their decorations were removed to the Museo Borbonico. The baths discovered at StabiÆ, in 1827, were very interesting. They are described in “Gell’s Pompeiana,” 2nd series, vol. i. pp. 131 and 140.

Bay of
Naples.
The river
Sarnus.
Mounds marking the extent of Pompeii.

VIEW OF VESUVIUS, FROM BETWEEN CASTELLAMARE AND GRAGNANO.

For our present purpose, the public buildings and temples of Pompeii and Herculaneum require a less detailed account; a slight enumeration of them, however, is necessary to show the extent and importance of the community, whose taste and refinement required such dwellings for their private enjoyment, and also to prove that the buildings, from which many of the designs on the walls of the Pompeian Court have been taken, do not owe their origin[V-25]
[V-26]
to the slight and flimsy taste prevailing among the frequenters of a seaside town in the modern sense of the word, but to the higher refinement and habits of those who, leaving Rome in the heat of a summer sun, sought the ease and indulgence of a life such as Campania alone afforded, and yet could not tolerate the contrast of an inferior art around them. This is proved by a comparison of the Pompeian decorations with those of the same period in the baths of Titus, at Rome. The same style and the same peculiarities of taste are evident, and they perfectly illustrate the remarks of Vitruvius, which will be considered in a future place.

When the French occupied Naples, the walls surrounding the city were entirely cleared; this was in October, 1812, and in the March following the street of tombs. Murat defrayed most of the expenses of excavation, and in a short time the Forum and Basilica, with the adjacent buildings, were laid open. At one time 3000 men were employed in the work of exploration.

The Forum (1816) is the largest and by far the grandest spot in Pompeii. It is surrounded by a Grecian Doric colonnade, the Temple of Jupiter, two triumphal arches, forming the north end, and the Temple of Venus and Basilica on the west. Facing the Temple of Jupiter were large buildings, profusely decorated with statues, called the CuriÆ and Ærarium, and the remaining side of the forum was occupied by various buildings, among them the Pantheon and the Chalcidicum of Eumachia; these were excavated between 1817 and 1821. The discovery of the public baths did not take place till 1824. These contributed materially to a better comprehension of many passages in ancient authors, being more perfect examples than the vast ranges for similar purposes still existing at Rome.

Tlie general result of the Pompeian excavations up to the present time may be thus summed up; three forums, nine temples, a basilica, a chalcidicum, three piazze, an amphitheatre, two theatres, a prison, double baths, nearly one hundred houses and shops, several villas, town walls, six gates, and twelve tombs.

The impression likely to be produced on the mind of a spectator from the scene in its present condition, may be gathered from the following passages extracted from my own journal, recording my first visit to Pompeii, September 16th, 1843.

JOURNAL.

“By half-past ten we were at the railway station, just outside the gates of Naples, and immediately started for Pompeii. The line of rail continues along the shore of the bay; nothing can exceed the bustle, confusion, and want of system on this amusing road. There exists neither distinction of classes nor limitation of luggage, so that fruit-stalls and puppet-shows—Polichinello, by the way, is here in his native land—are heaped together in the carriages. The first station we reached was Portici, the next Resina, accompanied by the classic cry of Ercolano—signore, Porta d’Ercolano—then Torre del Greco, where heaps of lava piled one upon the other, attest the awful eruption of the last century. Torre dell’ Annunciata being the nearest station to Pompeii we alighted here, and proceeded along a dusty road, lined with cactus, poplar, stone pine, and the castor-oil tree. Festoons of the richest vines hung from tree to tree, and the black clusters peeped out beneath the broad-spread leaves, already beginning to change into the gold of the approaching Autumn. The fields were teeming with corn, hemp, and cotton. No beggars, the pest of Naples, crowded round our carratella, and the dust which rolled in dense clouds was our only annoyance. We now turned our thoughts to Pompeii. A small guard house of soldiers marked the entrance to these classic precincts, and for some distance further the road was planted with willows, producing a rich and solemn effect, and well preparing us for the street of tombs which soon broke upon our view. The road was lined with tombs for a considerable distance before we approached the city gate, called Porta d’Ercolano, on the Herculaneum side; but previously to examining the tombs, we diverged to the right to explore the villa of Diomed, where we found everything in exact accordance with the description of Sir William Gell and Mr. Malkin’s work, ‘Pompeii,’ by the Society of Entertaining Knowledge.

“The tombs are all small but minutely ornamented, the upper parts still remain, and they appear altogether much more complete than I had expected. The gate of Herculaneum, with its grooves, sentry box, and road-pavements, corresponds exactly with prints and descriptions given by numerous travellers.

“At this point of view, little is really wanting. The eye pursues a long line of ascending road, with tombs and thick trees on each side, broken only by the gate of the city, through the arch of which a long continuation of houses is clearly visible. We entered the city; everything is on a small scale, but the walls at this entrance to the city seem high in proportion; the footway and carriage-road remain undisturbed, and still retain the track of chariot wheels. The motion and noise of inhabitants alone seem wanting—no decay is visible, and the impression produced by the scene was that of a populous city during church time. We wandered on through streets and lanes, prying into buildings both public and private, after the manner of that wonderful prince mentioned in the ‘Arabian Nights Entertainments,’ who explored a city, the inhabitants of which had been turned into stone.

“In the shops, many of the walls remain perfect, roofs alone have disappeared, but counters, doorways, and depositaries are just such as we see daily at Naples, and scarcely inferior in point of freshness.

“The mosaic strewn floors are wonderfully perfect—a little patching and inequality of level caused by the previous earthquake are here and there perceptible; the chief difficulty at first is to know the floor from the pavement, that is, to distinguish the inside of a house from the courtyard. All external walls were plastered and coloured, so that a mistake might easily arise.

“The Houses of the QuÆstor, Sallust, and the Faun, are exquisite specimens of proportion and arrangement in domestic building. The beautifully painted walls, columns, and inlaid marble or mosaic floor, combine with the deep blue sky, forming so glorious a whole that the rooflessness is forgotten, and the eye reposes with delight on the assembled harmonies.

“The whole city is encompassed by enormous mounds of debris, under which it was formerly buried. These lumps are now caked together, and in their sloping sides trees have already sprung up, so that all appearance of rubbish is fortunately concealed.

“I was greatly disappointed with the scale of many objects, especially the Baths. Sir William Gell’s views are very correct, but the living figures introduced are on an utterly false scale. The Telamons, a series of terra-cotta figures, tinted red, with yellow hair and drapery, supporting the frieze, seem, in his pictures, the size of life, whereas they are only two feet high, one-third in fact of the size they are made to appear in his drawings.

“Modern roofs are extended over all parts retaining ornament, stucco, or paintings; some of the finest mosaics are carefully boarded over—the famous lion, for instance—whilst others are protected by coarse glass frames with slides such as we use for cucumber-beds in kitchen gardens. A beautiful marble pavement attracted our attention, in the house of ActÆon or Sallust, but the great mosaic of Darius is not visible, being plastered over preparatory to its removal to Naples. The borders alone remain uncovered. The Forum, with its Basilica, temples of Jupiter, Vesta, and Venus, are only realisations of my previous conception, allowing, as before, for the reduction of size. The best mosaics, paintings, statues and bronzes have been removed to Naples, but their place is frequently supplied by copies, which serve equally well to illustrate their effect.

“The tragic theatre is complete in form; the stone seats, however, have nearly all disappeared. The amphitheatre is considerably distant from the rest of the excavations; it is remarkably perfect, and the view of Vesuvius from the summit of this building is surprisingly grand. It contrasts strangely with the beautiful limestone range of mountains on the other side of the bay. Vesuvius appears more rugged and frowning in this aspect—beheld from the remains of its victim—than from the more-frequently painted scene, the Chiaja of Naples. The deep blue and gray-brown of the volcano is studded with white dots, each of which is a villa or hermitage, creeping up to the mouth of the crater, regardless of the warnings of the buried cities, and the devastation at its roots in Torre del Greco, and in Nola of the plain beyond. They seem like flies settled on the head of a sleeping monster, or, to speak in better phrase, like white sails on the calm and azure sea, which, at the moment I am writing, seems incapable of harbouring the terrors and destruction which mankind so frequently experience, and which two days ago we saw in all their sublimity.

“In the baths of Pompeii a slight refreshment was offered us, and at a little farm-house in the neighbourhood of the amphitheatre, we enjoyed a more substantial meal. The comic theatre is small, but much more perfect than the one previously visited. In all the public buildings a commencement of restoration after the earthquake was clearly visible, especially in the forum.

“Vegetation takes root, at every opportunity, between cracks of stones, or wherever mould is collected; grass there is none. The wild fig and the luxuriant fern are the most frequent intruders, but they do not spread sufficiently to afford shelter, and the walls themselves are not high enough to serve as protection against the scorching sun. As the sun neared the horizon, we were warned to depart, and, mounting our car in preference to the railway, we rattled off along the high road, well pleased with a journey that, after defraying all expenses, did not exceed the cost of 3s. 4d. So ended my first day at Pompeii, 1843.

“I could not help contrasting all this with our first visit to Herculaneum, which is entirely underground, imbedded in hard tufa, and exposed only in small portions protruding here and there, where we threaded long caverns and galleries cut in the wet, cold, and dripping material, the bad vapours of which are very dangerous. I would compare Herculaneum to a geological fossil half worked out of the compact material which surrounds it. There is an important difference in the overwhelming of the two cities. Pompeii was covered solely with fine dust and powdered scoria, all dry but rendered compact by the great pressure of the fallen mass. Herculaneum was filled up by a dense rolling liquid, or rather paste of fine powder mixed with boiling water strongly impregnated with sulphur, and forming what has now become a perfectly hard compact stone, and only to be removed with the axe. In Pompeii all excavations are carried on with the shovel, as the dry powder easily gives way.”

The private houses of Pompeii have been variously named, sometimes from an inscription on the door post, or from the subject of some principal painting, at other times from the supposed occupation or condition of the owner, or from a peculiar object found in the dwelling; and not unfrequently the presence of some distinguished person at the time of excavation has conferred a lasting title on some particular remains. The application of these names will be seen in the houses of Pansa, of Meleager, the QuÆstor, the Surgeon, the Fountain, and that of Queen Caroline. Some of the houses have had the names changed, as that of the Tragic Poet is now called the House with Homeric Paintings. All the houses seem to have been buried somewhat higher than the top of the ground floor. Upon this bed of ashes is found a layer of ashes mixed with mould, and remains of buildings to the depth of seven feet. The moisture retained in the vegetable mould had destroyed the surface of the paintings, and not unfrequently the pattern was seen on the mould to which the stucco still adhered. In this manner has the decoration of the upper apartments been destroyed, and the pressure of superincumbent masses has crumbled the woodwork. That the houses had upper ranges of chambers is evident from the remains of staircases leading to them both within and without. The first floors were nobly paved, mosaics having been found at various levels one above the other. Ceilings also were variously decorated with paintings like the walls, and sometimes composed of stucco. Mr. Falkener (pp. 66 and 67) observed a gorgeously ornamented ceiling to a tablinum. It consisted of a large circle in a square panel boldly moulded, and enriched with stucco ornament, with ultramarine, vermilion, and purple colouring, together with a profusion of gilding. Fragments of equally elaborate ceilings were found in such a position as to lead to the conviction that they belonged to apartments of different stories, one above the other.

The visitor to Pompeii is generally struck with the intensity and crudeness of the colours on the walls. This is easily accounted for in the necessity for the exclusion of light in hot countries; for with light heat comes also, and all who have visited Italy will remember the care with which the modern sitting rooms are darkened during daytime. The strength of these colours would thus be always toned down by shade.[53] With all the variegation of colour in these Pompeian walls, one pervading principle may be observed, viz., that the strongest and darkest colours are confined to the bottom of the room. Thus if the dado, or lower part of the wall, be black, the rest will be red or yellow, and the ceiling white; and if the dado be red, the rest of the wall yellow or blue. If the dado be yellow, all the rest of the room will be white.

ARRANGEMENT OF A POMPEIAN HOUSE.

Painted Garden.
Peristyle. Fauces. Ala. Cubiculum.
Tablinum. Impluvium.

INTERIOR OF THE ATRIUM OF THE HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC POET, ACCORDING TO THE RESTORATION OF SIR WILLIAM GELL.

The principal divisions of a Roman house consist of three square chambers, leading one into the other; the first and last of these are lighted by a square opening in the middle of the ceiling, but the central apartment is destitute of any means for the entrance of the daylight; in fact, it receives only such light as can be communicated from the rooms on either side; still as there was no actual partition between these chambers, beyond that made by curtains,[54] sufficient light must have obtained entrance, which could be modulated at pleasure. The name of this central room was the Tablinum. The first room, which is generally the largest, is called the Atrium, and has a square tank or basin in the middle of the floor to collect the water dropping from the roof, and to receive the falling rain, as the apartment is directly open to the sky. The aperture in the roof is not very large, and this arrangement for the free descent of rain affords two essential luxuries to the inhabitant of a southern climate—shade and moisture. In a country like our own it is scarcely possible to estimate their value.

[54] Sir William Gell (vol. i. p. 160 of Pompeiana, Second Series) states that the iron rods on which curtains or draperies were suspended from column to column were discovered perfect in an excavation at Herculaneum in 1828.

The further room had a larger aperture above, and the open space below was laid out with plants like a garden, bordered with columns, so that the narrow covered space left on each side formed a miniature cloister. It was called Peristyle, from the Greek words, meaning surrounded by columns. In the map of ancient Rome, made in the time of Septimius Severus, this arrangement in the private houses is distinctly visible. As in our modern houses, the proportions varied both according to the caprice of the owner, or the limitations of space. Some had a greater number of apartments, and others a double set. Not a few added an extensive series of domestic offices, dining-rooms, and bed chambers, some of them up stairs. Many houses had a second and third story of bed-rooms above the common level, but in all well constructed houses, whatever the rank of the owner, these three apartments, Atrium, Tablinum, and Peristyle, remain the essential portions. Here, as much of the life of a leading citizen was public, he received his clients and allowed the slaves to wait upon him. It was only in the inner apartment, such as the oeci and triclinia, that he could indulge in privacy.

In the better class of houses, the Atrium was generally surrounded by smaller rooms, called cubicula, and the square of the Atrium was broken by the further part being widened on each side T fashion, into alÆ, or wings, which correspond to the transepts of our cathedrals. The tablinum, again, was narrowed by a partition which took off a side passage, called fauces, through which the servants passed from one end of the house to the other without disturbing those occupied in the middle chamber. The floor of this tablinum was frequently ornamented with elegant pictures, in mosaic, as that of the Tragic Poet’s House, by the choragus teaching his actors, and distributing his masks (Gell, vol. i. pl. 45). The famous large mosaic, the Battle of Issus, in the House of the Faun, has already been mentioned. In some houses, but very rarely, there was a passage on both sides of the tablinum; as in the reproduction described in these pages, the House of the Coloured Capitals, and a few others, but the majority have one only.

The reader may derive a clearer and certainly a more poetical idea of an ancient house from the following extracts from Sir Bulwer Lytton’s “Last Days of Pompeii.” The house which he describes is taken from a personal examination and the assistance of his antiquarian friend, Sir William Gell:—

“You enter then usually by a small entrance passage, called vestibulum, into a hall sometimes with—but more frequently without—the ornament of columns; around three sides of this hall are doors communicating with several bedchambers—among which is the porter’s—the best of these being usually appropriated to country visitors. At the extremity of the hall on either side to the right and left, if the house is large, there are two small recesses, rather than chambers, generally devoted to the ladies of the mansion; and in the centre of the tessellated pavement of the hall is invariably a square shallow reservoir for rain water—classically termed impluvium—which was admitted by an aperture in the roof above, the said aperture being covered at will by an awning. Near this impluvium, which had a peculiar sanctity in the eyes of the ancients, were sometimes—but at Pompeii more rarely than at Rome—placed images of the household gods. The hospitable hearth often mentioned by the Roman poets, and consecrated to the Lares, was at Pompeii almost invariably formed by a moveable brazier; while in some corner, often the most ostentatious place, was deposited a huge wooden chest, ornamented and strengthened by bands of bronze or iron, and secured by strong hooks upon a stone pedestal, so firmly as to defy the attempts of any robber to detach it from its position. It is supposed that this chest was the moneybox, or coffer, of the master of the house; though as no money has been found in any of the chests discovered at Pompeii, it is probable that it was sometimes rather designed for ornament than use. In this hall—or atrium, to speak classically—the clients and visitors of inferior rank were usually received. In the houses of the more ‘respectable,’ an atriensis, or slave peculiarly devoted to the service of the hall, was invariably retained, and his rank among his fellow-slaves was high and important. The reservoir in the centre must have been rather a dangerous ornament; but the centre of the hall was like the grass plot of a college, and interdicted to the passers to and fro, who found ample space in the margin. Right opposite the entrance at the other side of the hall, was an apartment (tablinum), in which the pavement was usually adorned with rich mosaics, and the wall covered with elaborate paintings. Here were usually kept the records of the family or those of any public office that had been filled by the owner; on one side of this saloon, if we may so call it, was often a dining-room or triclinium; on the other side, perhaps, what we should now term a cabinet of gems, containing whatever curiosities were deemed most rare and costly; and invariably a small passage for the slaves to cross to the further parts of the house without passing the apartments thus mentioned. These rooms all opened on a square or oblong colonnade, technically termed peristyle. If the house was small its boundary ceased with this colonnade, and in that case its centre, however diminutive, was ordinarily appropriated to the purpose of a garden, and adorned with vases of flowers placed upon pedestals; while under the colonnade, to the right and left, were doors admitting to bedrooms, to a second triclinium, or eating-room—for the ancients generally appropriated two rooms at least to that purpose, one for summer and one for winter, or perhaps one for ordinary, the other for festive occasions—and if the owner affected letters, a cabinet dignified by the name of library—for a very small room was sufficient to contain the few rolls of papyrus which the ancients deemed a notable collection of books.

“At the end of the peristyle was generally the kitchen. Supposing the house was large, it did not end with the peristyle, and the centre thereof was not, in that case, a garden, but might be perhaps adorned with a fountain or basin for fish; and at its end, exactly opposite to the tablinum, was generally another eating room, on either side of which were bed rooms, and perhaps a picture saloon or pinacotheca. These apartments communicated again with a square or oblong space, usually adorned on three sides with a colonnade like the peristyle, and very much resembling the peristyle, only usually longer. This was the proper viridarium or garden, being commonly adorned with a fountain or statues, and a profusion of gay flowers; at its extreme end was the gardener’s-house; on either side beneath the colonnade were sometimes, if the size of the family required it, additional rooms.

“At Pompeii, a second or third story was rarely of importance, being built only above a small part of the house and containing rooms for the slaves; differing in this respect from the more magnificent edifices of Rome, which generally contained the principal eating-room (or coenaculum) on the second floor. The apartments themselves were ordinarily of small size; for in those delightful climes they received any extraordinary number of visitors in the peristyle (or portico), the hall, or in the garden; and even their banquet rooms, however elaborately adorned and carefully selected in point of aspect, were of diminutive proportions; for the intellectual ancients being fond of society, not of crowds, rarely feasted more than nine at a time, so that large dinner rooms were not so necessary with them as with us. But the suite of rooms seen at once from the entrance, must have had a very imposing effect: you beheld at once the hall richly paved and painted—the tablinum—the graceful peristyle, and if the house extended further, the opposite banquet-room, and the garden which closed the view with some gushing fount or marble statue.

“The reader will now have a tolerable notion of the Pompeian houses, which resembled in some respects the Grecian, but mostly the Roman fashion of domestic architecture. In almost every house there is some difference in detail from the rest, but the principal outline is the same in all. In all, you find the hall, the tablinum, and the peristyle, communicating with each other; in all you find the walls richly painted; and in all the evidence of a people fond of the refining elegances of life. The purity of the taste of the Pompeians in decoration is, however, questionable; they were fond of the gaudiest colours, of fantastic designs; they often painted the lower half of their columns a bright red, leaving the rest uncoloured: and where the garden was small, its wall was frequently tinted to deceive the eye as to its extent, imitating trees, birds, temples, &c., in perspective; a meretricious delusion which the graceful pedantry of Pliny himself adopted with a complacent pride in its ingenuity.”

The novelist then proceeds to describe the house known by the name of the Tragic Poet. (See plan No. 2 on page 38.)

“You enter by a long and narrow vestibule, on the floor of which is the image of a dog in mosaic, with the well-known ‘Cave canem,’ or ‘Beware the dog.’ On either side is a chamber of some size: for the interior part of the house not being large enough to contain the two great divisions of private and public departments, these two rooms were set apart for the reception of visitors who, neither by rank nor familiarity, were entitled to admission in the penetralia of the mansion.

“Advancing up the vestibule, you enter an atrium that, when first discovered, was rich in paintings, which in point of expression would scarcely disgrace a Raphael. You may see them now transplanted to the Neapolitan Museum; they are still the admiration of connoisseurs—they depict the parting of Achilles and Briseis.

“Who does not acknowledge the force, the vigour, the beauty, employed in delineating the forms and faces of Achilles and the immortal slave?

“On one side of the atrium, a small staircase admitted to the apartments for the slaves on the second floor; there also were two or three small bedrooms, the walls of which portrayed the Rape of Europa, the battle of the Amazons, &c.

“You now enter the tablinum, across which, at either end, hung rich draperies of Tyrian purple, half withdrawn. On the walls was depicted a poet reading his verses to his friends; and in the pavement was inserted a small and most exquisite mosaic, typical of the instructions given by the director of the stage to his comedians.

“You passed through the saloon, and entered the peristyle; and here, as I have said before was usually the case with smaller houses of Pompeii, the mansion ended. From each of the seven columns that adorned this court hung festoons of garlands; the centre, supplying the place of a garden, bloomed with the rarest flowers, placed in vases of white marble, that were supported on pedestals. At the left hand of this small garden was a diminutive fane, resembling one of those small chapels placed at the sides of roads in Catholic countries, and dedicated to the Penates; before it stood a bronze tripod; to the left of the colonnade were two small cubicula or bedrooms; to the right was the triclinium, in which the guests were now assembled.

“This room is usually termed by the antiquaries of Naples, ‘The Chamber of Leda;’ and in the beautiful work of Sir William Gell, the reader will find an engraving from that most delicate and graceful painting of Leda presenting her new-born to her husband, from which the room derives its name. This charming apartment opened upon the fragrant garden. Round the table of citrean wood, highly polished and delicately wrought with silver arabesques, were placed the three couches, which were yet more common at Pompeii than the semicircular seat that had grown lately into fashion at Rome; and on these couches of bronze, studded with richer metals, were laid thick quiltings, covered with elaborate broidery, and yielding luxuriously to the pressure.”

The following plans, pp. 38 and 39, are collected into one group to afford a more easy view of the differences in their general construction. They are not drawn to scale, and have no pretensions to detail. The principal apartments only are named upon them, and the following is a list of their chief peculiarities, together with the dates when they were excavated, and the various names by which they have been known. The first numbers correspond with those on the plans.

1. House of the Emperor Joseph II. (1767-69), was a mansion of great magnificence, of three stories. It was beautifully situated on the side towards the sea. This house had a suite of baths; and in the furnace-room the skeleton of a female was discovered. The regularity of plan is very remarkable; but, unfortunately, the excavations were filled in again, so that nothing now remains to be seen.

2. House of the Tragic Poet (1824-26) is called in the Museo Borbonico, “Casa Omerica,” the Homeric House: the same which Bulwer describes as the house of Glaucus. Remarkable for the beauty and dignified character of its paintings, most of them illustrating Homeric subjects.

A list of a few of the principal paintings and mosaics in this house will suffice to show the taste of its occupant.

Cave Canem. Mosaic at entrance.

In atrium, on right wall, next to entrance, The Marriage of Peleus and Thetis. On side wall, right hand, The Parting of Achilles and Briseis. On same wall, separated only by a door, The Departure of Chryseis. Opposite to the parting of Achilles and Briseis was represented The Fall of Icarus. In a cubiculum on this side was the small frieze of Battle of Amazons (copied in the Atrium of Pompeian Court, page 47). The tablinum was adorned with a picture of A Poet reading, and the mosaic pavement representing The Choragus and Actors. In a little chamber to the left of tablinum was a small picture of Venus fishing. At the end of ambulatory of peristyle near triclinium was the famous picture of The Sacrifice of Iphigenia, painted on the wall adjoining the oven of the Fullonica. The Deserted Ariadne (page 57) adorned a small chamber to the left of the peristyle. The opposite side of the peristyle was occupied by the kitchen, latrina, and triclinium, which latter contained the exquisite picture of Leda presenting her Infant Progeny to Tyndareus; hence this apartment is sometimes called the Chamber of Leda. Other pictures in the same room are Venus, Cupid, and Adonis, and an elaborate composition of Theseus deserting Ariadne. He is in the act of stepping on board a ship, where sailors are making ready for departure. Ariadne lies asleep on the shore; her head is surrounded with a blue circular glory, which is not uncommon in Pompeian paintings. Many of these pictures are on a comparatively large scale, and only equalled in artistic excellence by those which have been discovered in the houses of the Dioscuri and of Ceres, one of the smallest houses in Pompeii. It has only one ala (plan given in Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 55, and in Gell, vol. i., pl. 35, p. 143).

1. House of Joseph II.

2. House of the Tragic Poet, or, House of the Homeric Paintings.

3. House of Queen Caroline.

4. House of the Meleager or Apollo, and House of Nereids, or of Isis.

5. House of Sallust, or ActÆon.

6. Houses of the Mosaic Fountain, and of the Shell Fountain.

7. House with the Coloured Capitals, near the Pantheon.

8. House of the Dioscuri, QuÆstor, or Centaur.

9. House of the Female Musician, the Flute Player or “Sonatrice.”—Excavated by Mr. Falkener.

10. From ancient Marble Map of Rome, representing Private Houses.

3. House of Queen Caroline (1813), now called that of Adonis, remarkable for the width of Atrium when viewed from vestibule. The kitchen has windows opening to the street. In an open court is a permanent semicircular couch of stone, the sigma of Martial, and so called from the shape that the Greek letter had at this period acquired. (See notice on the changes in the Greek alphabet, in the Catalogue of Greek Court, p. 22). In the Atrium, plants were painted on the wall, as if sprung up out of the ground. A celebrated caricature painting of the studio of a portrait painter was discovered by Mazois in this house.

4. House of the Meleager or Apollo (1830-31), called also the House of Isis, or of the Nereids. The house is very extensive, and the various apartments are arranged in a different manner from what is generally seen at Pompeii. The block plan, No. 4, will sufficiently explain the distribution of the various parts. The vestibulum is very long and narrow.

5. House of Sallust (1809). Known also as the House of ActÆon. The venereum is the peculiar feature of this house. The skeleton of a young female, with four rings on one of her fingers, was discovered as if just in the act of escaping; five gold bracelets, two ear-rings, and thirty-two pieces of money were lying near her. The skeletons of three other females, probably slaves, were found near her. The doorway of the Prothyrum was very broad, and was closed with a quadrivalve door, folding back like our shutters.

6. Two houses side by side, called from the features of their peristyles, the Greater and the Smaller Fountain (1826). The small fountain itself made of shells, the greater one encrusted with mosaics. In the former house a remarkable painting of a sea-port, supposed to represent DicÆarchia, or Puteoli, was discovered. Two staircases indicate the former existence of upper rooms. Here they found oil, in vases, with olives still swimming in it.

7. House of the Coloured Capitals (1833-34). A very large house near the so-called Pantheon.

It is a magnificent specimen of arrangement and decoration. The long range of colonnade, forming a second peristyle or decorated garden, is peculiar to this habitation. (Plan given in Mus. Bor., vol. x., tav. A & B.)

8. House of the Dioscuri (1828-29). This beautiful mansion has been known by a great variety of names—The Quaestor, the Centaur, Castor and Pollux. The latter name (Dioscuri also) is derived from the spirited figures of the sons of Leda, painted reining in their horses on the side walls of the left-hand vestibulum. A running Mercury, with purse in hand, was painted on one of the posts of the same entrance. The exterior of this house is much more carefully decorated than was usual among the Pompeians. Many of the stucco ornaments have been picked out with colour. Highly-decorated wooden chests, lined and bound externally with iron, were found in the atrium, at the entrance of the left-hand ala, which still contained a few gold and silver coins that had escaped the grasp of some one who had returned to the spot after the destruction of the city, and made excavation, evidently directed to that particular spot.

This house is one of the finest for the grandeur and taste displayed in every part of it. The celebrated paintings, Perseus and Andromeda, Medea and her Children, were found on the piers at the lower angles of the great central Peristyle. The great Exedra, or Triclinium, at its extremity, was closed with folding doors, the sockets of which still remain, and the floor was decorated with the famous circular mosaic of The Lion crowned with Garlands by young Cupids. (Engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. vii., tav. 61.) (Plan given in Gell’s Pompeiana, vol. ii., pl. 63.)

9. House of the Female Musician (1847). Known by the Italian name Della Sonatrice, called likewise House of the Triumphant Bacchus. It is a very interesting excavation, displaying much magnificence and elegance of decoration. It may be regarded as a double house of three stories. Several of the paintings of the Sydenham Court have been copied from the walls of this mansion. The name of the house is derived from a painting in one of the chambers representing a young actress in a mask playing the double flute. A picture was found near the foot of the stairs displaying writing materials, such as tablets, stylus, atramentum, or ink-bottle, and a sealed letter, which preserves the direction on it, “To the Decurion Marcus Lucretius.” Hence, the house is not unfrequently called by his name, in the supposition that he must have been the owner. Mr. Falkener was present during the excavation of this house, and has published a very interesting account of his observations in the Museum of Classical Antiquities. The arrangement of the portion beyond the tablinum is very singular, consisting of a fountain and basin surrounded by a variety of small figures arranged in front of it. The house seems, at the period of its destruction, to have been undergoing alteration. Many of the central pictures had been taken out from the walls, preparatory to the insertion of fresh ones. The artists appear to have sometimes painted on wood for that purpose. Many years ago, the workmen came to an apartment at StabiÆ, where the pictures had been separated from a wall preparatory to removal, which the ruin of the city prevented: the paintings therefore were found leaning against the wall of the apartment. (The plan of this house is given in Mus. Bor., vol. xiv., tav. A and B.)

10. Plan of some private dwellings copied from the celebrated fragments of a map of Rome, engraved on marble about the time of Septimius Severus. (Bellorius Ichnographia, Tab. 7, page 35.)

The House of Pansa. (1811-14.) One of the largest of the superior class of mansions hitherto discovered. It has an extensive garden, and the rooms were distributed with great regularity. This house is more generally referred to in illustration of a Pompeian house, and for that reason has been made the subject of a larger and more elaborate plan than the rest. In one of the bed-rooms, five female skeletons were found, some of them with gold ear-rings. The name of the house is derived from the red letters PANSAM. ÆD. PARATVS. ROG. daubed upon the door-post. (The plan of this house is given large at the end of this book.)

The House of Ceres (1827). Called also the House of Zephyrus and Flora, from an interesting painting of the Marriage of Zephyrus and Flora; it is also known as the House of the Ship (Naviglio), which latter name is derived from a painting in one of the shops. Another name, also, is of the Bacchantes. The beautiful seated divinities, Bacchus and Ceres, between the Tablinum and AlÆ of this court, were copied from this House of Ceres. A third sitting deity, Jupiter, with a round plate behind his head, like the nimbus of saints in old pictures, belonged to this series. It is remarkably dignified. (See Mus. Bor., vol. vi., tav. 52.)

The House of the Faun (1829-31). So called from the discovery of the beautiful little Faun introduced in this court, copied in the original material, bronze. This house is celebrated for its great mosaic, representing Alexander and Darius at the Battle of Issus. The apartments were very numerous and on a grand scale.

HISTORY OF THE POMPEIAN HOUSE.

The original intention in constructing the Pompeian Court in the Crystal Palace was to appropriate it for purposes of refreshment. In furtherance of this plan, more especial attention would have been devoted to the mural decorations and the arrangements for public accommodation and convenience. The nature and extent of the gigantic structure within which this court was to be erected, determined, in a great measure, the breadth of space to be left open. A glance upwards will show the spectator how the supports of the galleries are arranged, and also the necessity that exists for incorporating these within the walls of the smaller erection. The refreshment chambers must necessarily have been much larger in extent than any of the rooms in the houses at Pompeii; the general disposition of their chambers, however well suited they might have been for the purposes of ancient life, were totally inadequate to the requirements of modern visitors; consequently this plan was abandoned, and the present Pompeian Court instituted in its stead.

The original design for this house was made by Mr. Digby Wyatt, at Naples; and, in conjunction with Mr. Owen Jones, his companion in the tour for the collection of works of art for the decoration of the Crystal Palace generally, he entered into arrangements on the spot with Signor Abbate, the official draughtsman to the King for the Pompeian excavations, to come over to England the following spring, with cartoons and tracings, from Pompeii, in order to decorate the building, then to be prepared for him, at Sydenham, with facsimiles of the different paintings at Pompeii selected by Mr. Wyatt for the decoration of the respective rooms. The King of Naples granted permission to Signor Abbate for the visit, and, accordingly, this distinguished artist arrived in England fully prepared to perform his task. Although the plan of devoting the Pompeian Court to refreshment was meanwhile given up, the measurement of the walls that had been given to Signor Abbate for the preparation of his cartoons prevented any general change of design, and the shortness of the period originally fixed for his stay in this country prevented any important alterations being undertaken. The decorative painting of the Pompeian house was entirely under the management of Signor Abbate, Mr. Parris. Jun. acting as his deputy. They had thirty assistants, ten of whom were English. The principal figure painters were Mundici and Gow, and the names of the chief ornamentalists are Leslie, Luetyens, Wassner, Yahn, Munsch, Moevius, and Meyer. The entire arrangement and building are due to Mr. Digby Wyatt, furthered by the zeal and energy of Mr. Thomas Hayes, his deputy.

It will be seen in the following description of the Court, that each part has been copied from some existing authority; and the few exceptions that do occur, in which originality was necessary, have been carefully noted.

Some of the leading works which contain illustrations of Pompeii, will be found enumerated in the list of books at the end of the description of the Roman Court, and others of more immediate importance have been referred to in the text when requisite.

DESCRIPTION OF THE POMPEIAN HOUSE.

The outer walls are supposed to be surrounded by the street, and the entire house forms what the Romans called an insula; that is, a detached building. The tiling, more conspicuous from the gallery, has been faithfully copied from an ancient example, from the House of the Female Musician. The roof of a house was found complete in April, 1853, with the upper part of the ridge carefully guarded by cement. The principal entrance faces the nave; it is flanked by two pilasters, the capitals of which are copied from the back entrance of a house excavated in 1834 (Mus. Bor., vol. x., tav. A, B), and from sketches taken on the spot.

The general proportions of the doorway are taken from the house of Pansa (Gell, Pompeiana, series i., pl. 34.); the grating, or lattice-work[55] over the door, is introduced upon the authority of Mr. Donaldson in his work upon doorways. The external windows are devised to throw more light into the chambers, and to afford a more ready means of looking into the inner recesses. This apparent innovation is authorised by the windows of the Tragic Poet’s house which open upon the street, although much higher up, being raised more than six feet above the level of the foot-pavement. They seem to have been closed by sliding shutters and were sometimes glazed. Glass was much used at Pompeii both for drinking vessels and windows; sheets of glass have been found there, and a convex glass for a lamp remained in the wall, dividing two apartments in the public baths near the forum. The front part of the entrance was called Vestibulum; the remaining part of the passage, Prothyrum, which latter was bounded by a second door which closed in the Atrium. The door is quadrivalve, and the panelling is taken from the false door painted on the wall of the Chalcidicum near the statue of Eumachia (Gell, Pompeiana, 2nd series, page 21, plate 9).

[55] Called by Vitruvius Hypaetrum. Smith, s. v. Janua. p. 626. Compare a latticed window in vol. i., p. 229 of “Pitture d’Ercolano.”

The inlaid marble on the threshhold, representing a dog, is found at the entrance to the House of the Tragic Poet (Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 56). A similar device was painted at the entrance of Trimalchio’s house, described by Petronius, who was alarmed at the first sight of the furious animal at the full stretch of his chain so skilfully represented in the original mosaic (Petronius, Satyricon, ch. 29). The inscription on both is the same, CAVE CANEM, which means “Beware of the dog.”

The Prothyrum[56] or Ostium, was the passage between the street door (janua), and the house door (ostium), and corresponds to our entrance hall; a small square room on one side was sometimes devoted to the door-keeper or porter (janitor or ostiarius). They were called CellÆ OstiariÆ.

[56] Rich, s. v.

The walls and ceilings of these side apartments are white, with a red dado, that is, the lower part of the wall, answering to our surbase. The decoration of these rooms is imitated from the House of the Second Fountain. The walls of the Prothyrum itself are red, with a winged Cupid in a panel on each side. They are from the House of the Dioscuri. The dado is black, the ceilings of these three apartments are white and slightly arched.

Most of the ceilings in Pompeii were of this description, and composed of segmental vaults painted in fresco, like the walls beneath, only in lighter colours or more delicate and thinner patterns on a white ground. A small stucco cornice highly enriched with colour follows the lines of the archivolt. In the Villa of Diomed are some flat ceilings, and other examples have been published in the Pitture d’Ercolano.

ATRIUM.

The view of this spacious apartment at the moment of entrance is very imposing; the only difference between this and a real Pompeian house consists in the greater diffusion of light, and the increased scale of the apartment better suited to a palace in the capital of the Empire. For the purpose of fully displaying the beauties of the mural decorations, much more light has been admitted into this apartment than is usually found in the same division of the Pompeian houses. To this end, the central aperture, which ought to have been of the same size as the reservoir below, has been considerably widened. Windows also have been introduced in order to give the spectator a better view of the decorations within the side chambers. At a glance the eye recognises the various parts of the building previously described. In the centre below is the square basin to collect the water, called the impluvium, and the corresponding aperture above would be the compluvium. At the further end, facing the entrance, a graceful female figure is seen playing the lyre—these paintings will be described hereafter. In many houses this extremity is painted sky blue, with shrubs and trees to imitate a distant garden—this was the case in the peristyle of the Tragic Poet’s House (Gell, vol. i., p. 159), also in the Houses of the QuÆstor and ActÆon (Gell, pl. 20, page 175). The dark square central part forming as it were a frame to our view of the peristyle, is the tablinum, the side-passages are the fauces, and the smaller apertures round the sides of the Atrium will be recognised as conducting to the cubicula. Each of these apartments we propose to examine minutely, after having taken a general view of the Atrium. This important space in a Roman house was called also the Cavum Ædium, or CavÆdium, as Pliny writes it. There were various kinds of Atria; the simplest with no support in the centre—as this—called the Atrium Tuscanicum. Where the roof was supported by four columns in the centre it was called Tetrastylum. If the columns surrounding the impluvium were numerous, it was called Corinthium, and when, as rarely has been found, no opening was left in the centre, the apartment was said to be Testudinatum. Sometimes a roof was so arranged as to throw off the water outside, and then the term displuviatum was employed.

The Atrium, as viewed from the door, is oblong, in a position reversed from that in which it is generally found in Pompeian houses: although an authority for this arrangement exists in the House of Queen Caroline. The impluvium in the centre is of marble, and the exquisite small marble statue of a faun, serving at the same time as a fountain, is copied from the house called after the grand Duke of Tuscany. The floor is an excellent imitation of ancient mosaic work, executed by Messrs. Minton; the various patterns are taken from different Pompeian houses. Many of the floors at Pompeii exhibit some of the finest examples of mosaic work in which elaborate paintings with every variety of colour have been produced. They are composed solely of small pieces of coloured stone or glass fitted closely together and highly polished. It is the most durable of all methods of painting, and is generally set in a strong bed of cement. The modern Romans practise this art with such success, that a mosaic can scarcely be distinguished from a picture carefully painted with the brush. Every altar-piece but one, now in St. Peters’, has been made by this process. The celebrated mosaic of the Doves drinking, described by Pliny, is now in the capitol at Rome, and many descriptions of pictures executed in this mode are to be found in ancient authors. This process must be carefully distinguished from inlaying, which the ancients also practised, and may be seen here in the vestibules and some of the side chambers leading out of the peristyle.

The prevailing colour of the atrium is white. All round the doors and the windows of the Cubicula the wall is painted bright blue with red dado. The pilasters are white with the lower part yellow; their capitals white heightened by blue and red; they are from the House of the Centaur. In square compartments, on a white ground, between the capitals of pilasters, are elegant groups of female figures on marine animals, and Cupids in chariots; some of the small enriched mouldings are from the cornice of the tomb of Calventius Quietus, and the atrium frieze above tablinum is copied from a side apartment in the Tragic Poet’s House (Mus. Bor. vol. ii., tav. A). It is composed of white figures of combatants in armour on foot and in chariots; shields and dead bodies lie prostrate. The ground of this frieze is purple, but the ground of the original is described as white, and the figures are said to be clothed in blue, green, and purple draperies. The females are Amazons, distinguished by the pelta or lunated shield (see Statue No. 194 of the Greek Court.) The rest of the frieze is white, with patterns of bright-coloured lines in simple forms. Over each pilaster the frieze is broken by double figures of Victory, yellow and gold, which serve to support the beams which project to the edge of the compluvium. They were modelled by Mr. Monti, under the superintendence of Signor Abbate, from a drawing by Mr. Wyatt.

The compluvium is bordered with red standing tiles called antifixa, and the arrangement of Mazois in his restoration of the House of Diomed has been followed. The antifixa may be seen also on the model of the Parthenon in the bas-relief gallery adjoining the Greek Court. The angle tiles, with a spout to discharge the rain water, merit attention. The sloping roof of the atrium, composed of light beams with panelling between them, has been chiefly restored from existing paintings; but few traces of woodwork remain in any part of these ancient cities without having been seriously disturbed; the atrium ceilings being of wood, were consequently destroyed; pictorial records are therefore our only authorities. Fortunately for us, the ancients seem to have delighted in depicting themselves and their ways of living, so that it is not improbable that the architectural specimens that we see on their walls are only the transcripts of the slender constructions which were in fact confined to the upper stories. This is the more probable as the background of these architectural scenes is generally sky, and where vegetation does appear among them it consists commonly of plants growing in pots, or else the tops of trees as they would appear from the upper part of a house.

CUBICULA.

We must now go into the detail of the house and pass into each room as consecutively numbered in the plan, beginning in this instance on the left hand of the principal entrance, keeping the wall of Atrium always to the left.

1. Cubiculum. This small chamber has the walls totally black with a white ceiling. It is an exact copy both in size and decoration, of a room in the House of the Bronzes at Pompeii, called la stanza nera. Facing the door is a square picture representing a “Sacrifice to Minerva” (engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. xiii., tav. 8). In the centre a round shield—the Argolic buckler—with serpent painted on it, mounted on a square pedestal; above this appears a helmet placed on the top of a square pillar; a winged Cupid seems to be adjusting the shield; in front of the pedestal is a smaller circular altar, and Psyche with butterfly wings, clothed in yellow and pink, stands on the left, as if about to cast incense upon the altar. On the other side a Cupid, with blue wings of the same peculiar curve observable in the Marlborough gem, representing the Marriage of Cupid and Psyche, brings a white lamb to the altar for sacrifice. Among the arabesques to the right and left of this picture are graceful vases. Half doors of a light wooden construction may be observed, and a curious method of displaying pictures is shown here; they are represented upon the wall very much sloped forward and with folding shutters to them. (See Malkin’s Pompeii, vol. ii., p. 123.) The arabesques at each end of this cubiculum are especially beautiful. They have been wonderfully copied in Gruner’s specimens of Ornamental Art, the size of the originals. The effect of their rich colours upon a perfectly black ground is remarkable, contributing to increase the apparent size of the room very considerably. Few at first sight would imagine this little apartment to measure only 22 feet 9 inches by 6 feet 9 inches. The window openings to the atrium have been explained at page 44.

2. Cubiculum. The next chamber, forming one corner of the quadrangle, and lighted by a window in the outer wall, has also a white coved ceiling. The upper part of the walls is white, the dado black, and the remaining interval blue. Three graceful female figures floating in separate panels are Bacchantes; they have no wings. The picture surrounded by blue opposite the door, represents a sitting Endymion; he holds a branch in his right hand, and a staff leaning on his left shoulder; the drapery is pink; at his feet a stag,[57] with horns and blue collar, may be regarded as the emblem of Diana, whose favourite he was. (See Greek Court, No. 33). The background is composed of rocks with a square tower in the centre. The subject of Endymion was a very favourite one among the Pompeians. He was sometimes represented, as here, entranced awaiting the arrival of the goddess, at other times sleeping, and the goddess gazing upon him, with his dog starting in surprise at the visitor. Not unfrequently a Cupid is introduced leading Diana by the hand, holding a whip, as if she had just descended from her chariot of night. Whenever the goddess is present Endymion is always represented asleep. On the wall next the door facing the other picture is a square painting of Venus fishing. She sits on a rock on the right hand side, her yellow hair bound with a myrtle wreath, the lower part of her figure enveloped in green drapery; a fish has attached itself to the line of the rod which she holds in her right hand, and Cupid with blue wings, sitting on a rock across the water, expresses great joy at his mother’s success, which is evinced by his lively action. A piece of red drapery upon which he kneels adds greatly to the harmony of the picture. This subject of Venus angling is also frequently repeated; sometimes Cupid holds the fish basket, and in other cases he angles also. (See cubiculum 15.)

[57] On a closer examination I perceive that the animal is wounded, and the picture therefore represents Cyparissus, who killed a favourite stag by accident, and was transformed into the cypress. The picture is mentioned by Mr. Falkener (page 51).

3. Cubiculum. The next room in order flanks a side entrance. It is white with a yellow dado. The wall facing the atrium has a square picture of a poet or bookseller, and a comedian. On each side of this picture are painted tall, thin, yellow columns, with yellow shields suspended between them. Medusa and Lion heads are in the centre of these shields, as they were found in the house described by Mr. Falkener (p. 46). The poet, in the picture opposite the door, sits on the left, with his legs crossed. His head is crowned with ivy, and the lower part of his figure wrapt in blue and red drapery. He holds an open scroll in his left hand, and with his right seems to be giving instructions to the player, who stands before him with his mask raised over his head, as may also be seen in the mosaic from the tablinum of the Tragic Poet’s house. (Gell, Pompeiana, pl. 45, vol. i. p. 174). The comedian is dressed in a purple tunic with sleeves, and a full yellow mantle like a pallium thrown over it. In his left hand he holds a lituus or curved stick much used by the players. It resembles the crooked staff borne by the augurs, and so often seen upon gems, Roman coins, and Etruscan paintings. It was generally carried by actors. (Wieseler, TheatergebaÜde, &c. Pl. 11, No. 3, Pl. 12, Nos. 23 to 28; and Pitture d’Ercolano, vol. ii. tav. 3. p. 19). The lituus was curved more than the pedum or shepherd’s crook, which is simply a stick with a hook at the end of it.

At the foot of the sitting figure is a round box called capsa or scrinium, it has rings and cords on the outside. This box is, in fact, a library, it contains the volumes or rolls such as have been discovered in the villa at Herculaneum (see ante, p. 20), one of which the poet may be supposed to have taken out and to be holding in his hand. Many instances of these scrinia occur among the Pompeian paintings, with tickets or titles of the books hanging out at the top. (See also a statue of Sophocles, No. 322, where the scrinium is open and the rolls clearly displayed.)

Above this composition, is a landscape in an oblong frame. It contains a long villa and trees with awnings extended for shade, a yellow isolated column and a separate Ædiculum. This is one of the examples of landscape painting prevalent during the time between Nero and Titus. Landscape painting did not at first become a separate branch of art but Ludius appears to have introduced the style. The ancients rarely indulged in the modern taste for representing wild and romantic scenery; all their compositions are made of long lines of building, basilicas, villas, trees pleasantly disposed, bird’s-eye views of sea ports and artificially arranged gardens. Places in fact to go to and not in accordance with the feeling of our own times, which leads us to enjoy a grand scene, a combination of earth and sky without any desire to move from the spot upon which we have been placed. A description of the Vale of Tempe in Ælian has always been referred to as implying that the ancients had some feeling for the picturesque, and surely the back grounds to many of their figures show considerable invention and romantic appreciation, although deficient in the modern arts of aËrial perspective and chiaroscuro. Above this landscape, is a female figure, the lower part draped, with an elephant’s trunk on the head, and a lion at her right side. In this manner Africa is personified on coins both of Hadrian and Septimius Severus, (Millin, Gal. Myth., Nos. 371 and 372).[58] The left foot of this figure is placed on an elephant’s head, of which the trunk and tusks only appear (compare Falkener, page 52, note). The yellow dado is ormented with white swans, holding purple ribands. On the left wall, opposite the side vestibule, is a pretty little group of a winged Cupid leading an ibex or chamois, painted on a very dark purple ground.

[58] The skin with trunk and tusks of an elephant’s head may be seen applied in a similar manner upon the coins of the Bactrian Demetrius. Compare also a small double Hermes in the Roman Gallery, No. 385.

4. Vestibulum. The side entrance, light and narrow. The ceiling consists of one flat sunk panel, white, with blue and red stars. The lower part of wall red, the dado black. The SALVE inlaid in the pavement is taken from the house of the Vestals.

5. The Ala: here, of necessity, very shallow, but in many Pompeian houses of much greater depth, has a white curved ceiling, with broad blue, red, and green lines on it. The upper part of walls white, a frieze of black below it, yellow panels with white borders, black dado.

The paintings of the Ala have been taken from a house near the Basilica. The great picture is called Cupid Condemned to Labour. The height of the mountain in the background is very remarkable.

The picture is surrounded with red, and flanked with white columns, having bright patterns spirally arranged upon them. On either side of the chief picture are two floating figures upon a yellow ground, surrounded by a chaste white patterned border, that has been published by Zahn. To the left are two Cupids bearing a square pharetra or quiver. To the right a lovely Cupid with crimson drapery, carrying a lyre such as Apollo sometimes plays; he is assisted in the operation by a Psyche with purple butterfly wings, a purple undervest and green over it, wearing pale blue boots. These little figures are copied from a house near the forum. In the spandril is an architectural scroll-work in gay colours, with two lions leaping through it, a peculiarity to be seen in the Temple of Isis, at Pompeii, and in the Theatre of Myra, in Lycia.

6. The wall adjoining the Ala, and forming part of the Atrium, has been very gracefully decorated. It is occupied by a highly finished picture of Bacchus enthroned. The god of wine in the bloom of youth and beauty is crowned with the vine; a fawn’s skin—the nebris—is tied across his chest; in his right hand he holds the cantharus—a two-handled cup sacred to Bacchus—and with the other he grasps the thyrsus. His sandalled feet rest on a square foot-stool, and a leopard sits on the ground to the right of the throne; a drum or tympanum is placed at the opposite side. The main ground of this composition is blue, the architecture of the shrine or canopy around the figure green, yellowish-brown and red. The central group is engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. vi., tav. 53. The dado coloured rich deep red. From the House of Ceres.

7. Next to this is the left-hand Fauces or passage to the interior, and more private parts of the house. The white ceiling is delicately covered and spangled with blue and red stars. The right side of the fauces is white at the top, with alternate divisions below of red and blue having arabesques upon them. The dado black, with green and yellow patterns upon them, published by Zahn.

8. THE TABLINUM.

This broad central space, both as regards its dimensions and decorations, is wholly copied from the Tablinum of the house of Apollo. The entire upper part is white, with delicate lines of blight colours forming elegant patterns upon it. In the centre of the ceiling, which is gently curved, is a naked Venus upon a green hippocamp or sea monster. A flying Cupid holds reins, and another flying Cupid holds a mirror with a long handle. Mus. Bor., vol. viii., tav. 10. Pitture d’Ercalano, vol. ii., p. 247. The ground of the original group, found at Herculaneum, is black. The Museo Borbonico text describes the second Cupid as holding an umbrella, but the form is peculiarly that of a mirror, and Appuleius, Met. 4, in his account of the train attending Venus as she proceeded to the palace of Oceanus, makes especial mention of one holding a mirror. The passage is so illustrative of the ideas of the age that produced these paintings, that some part of it may be transcribed with advantage.

“The daughters of Nereus, too, were present singing in tuneful harmony; Portunus, too, rough with his azure-coloured beard; and Salacia, weighed down with her lapful of fish; with little Palaemon, their charioteer, upon a dolphin, and then troops of Tritons furrowing the main in all directions. One softly sounded his melodious shell; another with a silken canopy protected her from the sun; a third held a mirror, while others, again, swam yoked to her car.”

The spandrils formed by the architrave of the peristyle and atrium are filled with green marine animals on white ground.

9. Left Wall.—The chief central picture is Perseus showing the head of Medusa to Andromeda, reflected in the water at their feet; as the direct sight of the Gorgon’s visage turned all to stone, the conceit here adopted is very pretty. It was popular in Pompeii, and frequently repeated. When Perseus was about to encounter Medusa, Minerva gave him a polished shield, by the assistance of which he cut off her head without the peril that had attended so many others, being guided through his enterprise by the reflection in the shield. The composition of this picture is very elegant. It is surrounded by bright red. On both sides of the centre are rich architectural ranges of columns in two tiers. The coffered ceilings represented are worthy of observation. Before the columns, at the lower part, are bright blue doorways, in which lie comic masks. To the right and left of these central compartments are large yellow panels, each containing a floating female figure without wings. The one to the left holds a pedum in her right hand and a vintage basket with fruit in the left. The drapery is blue lined with purple. The female to the right, dressed in white and crimson edged with blue, has bare feet and holds a lyre and plectrum; both these females have bracelets. Between the masks, under the principal picture, is a black frieze with admirably-painted greenish marine monsters. The dado of these walls is black. The picture and Bacchantes are copied from the House with the Coloured Capitals.

10. Right Wall.—The opposite side has exactly the same decorations, with the exception of the central picture and the two side figures. The middle picture represents Venus (AphroditÊ), Euploia, borne on the back of a Triton, playing a lyre. She is attended by the Cupids Pothos, Himeros, and Eros. A female figure behind carries a jar, and the heads of Boreas and Zephyros blowing are visible through the dark blue sky. This picture is taken from the house with the coloured capitals. It has been carefully engraved in the Museo Borbonico, vol. xii., tav. 32. See also Panofka Autikenschau, Berlin, 1850.

The floating female to the left of central picture holds the tympanum or drum in the right and thyrsus in the left; her dress is pale purple with white drapery floating behind. This shows well on the yellow panel. Her left breast is covered with a nebris or fawn-skin. The female to the right holds a ewer in her right hand and a patera in her left. A thin gauze drapery is next her skin, having a crimson drapery lined with blue over it. Both these Bacchantes have bracelets and anklets. The four floating Bacchantes of tablinum have been taken from the House with the Coloured Capitals.

11. The second FAUCES is precisely like the other. The broad black line in the pavement edging the floor is characteristic of a Pompeian house. In the one described by Mr. Falkener the black margin, about nine inches broad (page 39), joined the walls. In some instances the colour was red.

12. Wall corresponding in position and decoration to No. 6. The central figure here enthroned is Ceres, the Demeter of the Greeks. The Goddess of Corn, of Earth, and Agriculture, is crowned with corn. A torch in her right hand, bearded corn on her left arm, and a basket of corn also at her feet. The spiked corn is always seen represented in ancient art both in paintings and on coins. It forms a conspicuous symbol on the coins of Metapontum, a city in the same part of Italy as Pompeii. This painting is engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. vi., tav. 54. Also by Zahn, taf. 25. The figure of Ceres is dressed in thin gauze undergarment, with pale slate-coloured drapery covering a purple dress, which appears only above the feet. A muslin-like drapery is gathered behind her head and shoulders. The throne, torch, and flame are all of one uniform yellow colour. The basket of corn is in natural colours. From the House of Ceres.

13. Ala. The general decoration of Ala corresponds with the opposite one. The main central picture of this Ala represents the rescue of Andromeda. This painting affords an interesting comparison with the bas-relief in the Greek Court, No. 35, where the same subject is represented. The treatment of the principal figures in the painting is much more sculpturesque than in the bas-relief. In the former the rescued lady stands attitudinizing on a rock, like a statue on a pedestal; her drapery is unruffled, and there is no sign of emotion in the figure prompted either by love, or the recollection of her recent perilous situation. In the latter there is a wild flutter about the drapery of Andromeda. She is descending from the rock with an evident confidence and dependence on her deliverer; and his firm manly pose in the sculpture is characteristic of the hero. The freedom, however, in the lines, is more pictorial in the bas-relief. The group as exhibited in our Pompeian picture, is excellently adapted for modelling in isolated statues. Compare Mus. Bor., vol. vi., tav. 50.

In this picture Perseus has yellow sandals and blue talaria. The action of the hand to conceal the Gorgon’s head is not so successful as in the sculpture; it is offensive to the spectator to see that openly which is supposed to carry so much horror with it. On the ground, at the feet of Andromeda, is a yellow casket, a white fan with red handle, and several white cockle shells, scattered on the ground, which give an appearance of petty detail. Two females are sitting on the rocks to the left, and seem to be gazing upon the vanquished monster rolling at the feet of Andromeda. The sword which Perseus bears is worth notice. It is the falx, and has a peculiar hook to it used for pruning. The falx and talaria or heel wings, are characteristic of Perseus. The graceful figures on each side of this central picture are from a house near the forum. To the left, a Cupid, with purple drapery, is supporting a pale-blue vase. Psyche, with purple butterfly wings and blue and green drapery, soars above, and seems helping to lift the vase by the handles. It forms a charming group. To the right of the chief picture are two Cupids carrying a basket with double arched handle. Both these groups are on a yellow ground.

14. Vestibulum, exactly the same as the one opposite.

15. Cubiculum or cella familiaris as next the vestibule. This chamber has white walls with yellow dado. The central picture facing Atrium represents Venus fishing; she holds the rod in the right hand, and, as usual, leans with the other hand on the seat, having the arm quite straight. A similar subject has already been described in cubiculum 2. Here the figures are larger and close together. Instead of Cupid, is a Genius,[59] with broad-spreading green wings. He holds a green branch in his right hand; his drapery purple. Venus is crowned with a diadem, white drapery hangs behind her left arm, and the lower part of her figure is covered by crimson folds with blue lining. The arrangement of sloping shields on each side is the same as in chamber 3. Above the chief painting is a landscape, with buildings, water and a boat. Over this little picture again is a Victory in a biga or chariot, with the horses painted entirely in yellow. The figure of Victory holds the palm branch in her left, and extends the right arm, grasping a wreath. Her wings are wide spread, but very much distorted. When Cupid was banished from Olympus for his impertinence, it is said that his wings were taken from him and transferred to Victory. In early art many of the divinities were winged. Diana on the chest of Cypselus (Pausanias, book v., ch. 19,) and so also is she represented upon the celebrated Clitias vase, at Florence. Many of the large figures of the Assyrian palaces, evidently acting as priests or attendants, are provided with wings, but they are never seen using them. Hebe is represented winged upon the famous cup of Sosias at Berlin, but these all belong to the undeveloped period of art. Among the Athenians Victory was represented unwinged—Apteros. After the battle of Marathon, Minerva is fabled to have confined Victory to her favourite spot, the Acropolis, by depriving her of her wings. A celebrated wooden statue of Wingless Victory, NikÉ Apteros, was at Athens, and a copy of it made by Calamis was sent to Olympia by the Mantineans. At Athens was the celebrated little temple of Wingless Victory, some of the sculptures from which are described in No. 57 of Greek Court catalogue. The right hand of the great ivory statue by Phidias, in the Parthenon, held a figure of Victory, Greek Court catalogue, pp. 29 and 30. To return to the painted Victory in this apartment. The highly decorated bar which seems attached to the collars of the horses is very peculiar. The gathering of the mane into a knot on the heads of the horses, and their breast collars are exactly like those on the carved lid of the ChimÆra tomb from Xanthus, now in the British Museum. The top knot of the horses may be seen in several antique sculptures from Naples and Florence, Nos. 69 and 71 of Greek Catalogue, and seems to have been originally an eastern custom. The body of the chariot is quite plain. The horses viewed in front are very clumsily foreshortened. This group has been engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. xiv., tav. 45. On the light hand wall is a little compartment of a winged Cupid, with pedum and basket, running from a sitting lion. These paintings are all from the House of the Girl playing the Double-flute, called della Sonatrice, discovered in 1847 (H.B. p. 353).

[59] Called in Mr. Falkener’s book, p. 49, Victory.

16. Cubiculum, occupying the corresponding angle to No. 2, also lighted with a window, is blue with black dado; copied from the House of the Second Fountain. The chief picture on the wall opposite the door is the deserted Ariadne, a subject many times repeated at Pompeii, and with a great variety of treatment. Ariadne is represented sitting on the shore of Naxos just awaking, and beginning to be aware of her forlorn situation; Cupid, at her side, points to a ship far away, with full-spread sail and many oars, which is bearing off Theseus, her faithless lover. A crimson cord, for necklace, is crossed also over her naked body, a purple drapery covers her lower limbs. The scene is indicated by wild crags, and the horizon is placed remarkably high up in the picture. The wings of Cupid are green, the ship yellow with a white sail. This picture is copied from one in the House of the Tragic Poet; it has been engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 62., and Zahn, vol. i., pl. 33. Gell’s Pompeiana, vol. i., pl. 43, page 169.

On each side is a graceful floating female figure, the one to the left holding a patera in one hand, and a garland in the other; the female on the other side, has a similar action, her drapery is yellow: both figures are remarkably elegant. On the opposite wall, next the door, is a picture of a very playful character; it is a Cupid seller. On the ground is a square strongly constructed cage, such as is used for birds, with an opening at the top, through which an old man is in the act of lifting out a Cupid; other Cupids are within the bars, and show by their gestures the irksomeness of their confinement. The old man dressed in the exomis, a garment peculiar to the working classes, lifts the struggling Cupid by one wing; he holds the square trap door in his left hand; a handsome lady who has come as a purchaser stands on the other side and looks up to a Cupid flying above, holding two bright stars; her right hand seems to point to the cage from which the object of her attention may have escaped. Another Cupid has eluded the vigilance of his keeper and hides himself behind the lady’s dress. The scene takes place in a handsome portico with two Ionic columns. This has been engraved in Zahn, 2nd series, taf. 18. Another picture, found at StabiÆ, of a female Love merchant is much more pleasingly and better composed. There the woman holds up the victim by both wings, and offers it like a live chicken to a lady who is seated on the other side. Another Cupid remains within the cage, which is elegantly made and circular. This well-known picture is engraved in the Pitt. Erc., vol. iii., tav. 7., and Mus. Bor., vol. i., tav. 3. To the left of the picture on this wall is a beautiful floating female figure, holding a tympanum or drum in the right hand, with the other raised holding a thyrsus. A nebris, or fawn-skin, passes over her right shoulder, her drapery is red lined with white, feet bare. The effect of colour upon the blue ground is very charming.

17. Cubiculum. A black chamber, corresponding to the one we first entered. This room has been copied, both in style and decoration, from the stanza nera of the House of the Bronzes. Opposite the window is a pleasing group of Cupid and Psyche, her drapery is purple and blue, and the wings purple. The picture opposite door represents three Cupids and Psyche surrounding a peacock. In this bird we recognise the favourite of Juno, and the Cupids appear to be feeding it, but the meaning of the subject is very vague. It has been engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. xi., tav. 15. Thus we have completed the circuit of the atrium and its smaller chambers; we propose to pass into the less public parts of the house by the left hand fauces, No. 7.

PERISTYLE.

18. Ambulatory, Ambulatio, also called Porticus by the Romans, and Stoa by the Greeks, is a colonnade on four sides, very like the cloisters of our cathedrals. The view looking through the fauces is bounded by a small shrine or chapel, called the Lararium. It is a niche raised on a pedestal, flanked by pilasters, and surmounted by a pediment. Within this were kept the Lares, the sacred household gods, that accompanied the inhabitants in their flight. No figures of this sort have ever been found in such places at Pompeii, although many representations of them remain depicted on the walls. They were generally represented as young men in short girt tunics, crowned and holding the drinking horn in one hand. (See Milman’s Horace, p. 168.) Their appearance was first ascertained by an inscription over the sculpture of an altar formerly in the Villa Medici, and now at Florence; a similar altar is in the Vatican, both inscribed LARIBVS AVGVSTIS. (See Galleria di Firenze, pl. 144 of statue, &c.; Mus. Pio. Clem., vol. iv., tav. 45; and Guattani Mon. Ined, vol. ii.; Maggio, 1785). The Lares presided especially over the domestic hearth. The cornice and entablature of Lararium are taken from the funeral Triclinium at Pompeii. The wall behind is a rich Pompeian red, with a yellow ornament, forming a panel on it, beautifully painted.

The roof of the ambulatory is panelled and decorated according to the prevailing style of the lighter coloured ceilings at Pompeii. The devices are formed of very thin lines of the brightest colours upon white. The Ionic capitals of the columns are from the Basilica. The shafts of the columns are not fluted at the lower part, the remaining unfluted surface, together with the mouldings upon the base, are painted bright red. This is a Pompeian peculiarity. Red is a prevailing colour at Pompeii, but in the House of the Surgical Instruments, the lower part of the columns was blue, a dwarf wall between them being painted red. (Gell, Pompeiana, first series, pl. 25, p. 170.)

19. Thalamus, an apartment next to the fauces, and entered by a door immediately to the left on entering the ambulatory.

It is a strictly private apartment, and the bedchamber of the master of the house. The name is taken from the Greek.

White walls and dark red dado. A charming little Cupid occupies the centre of each of the three panels, which have a peculiar border to them. The upper part of the wall dividing the Thalamus from the fauces has been thrown open for the better admission of light and air. The decorations of this room are copied from the House of the Dioscuri. On the right hand wall are two pictures of great interest and sprightliness. They are taken from the triclinium or exhedra of the house described by Mr. Falkener, and in his work (p. 64) may be seen rough outlines done from memory.[60] In the original apartment these pictures form side panels to still larger compositions. Cupids and Psyches are the only actors in these scenes; and, in the left-hand picture, a Cupid dances holding an amphora or diota on his left arm. A Cupid seated on the left of the picture plays a lyre, and other Cupids are reclining upon couches, beneath an awning. A statue of a bearded Bacchus appears behind, raised on a round pedestal; holding a thyrsus in his left hand. The corresponding picture has a Psyche dancing in similar company, who recline on a couch beneath a broad-spread awning supported by branches of trees. The statue at the back is a Psyche holding a bow in the left hand. A Cupid playing the flute sits on the left; a reclining figure near him holds a scyphus or drinking cup. The dancing Psyche has four butterfly wings and plays the crotala or castanets; her feet are bare, but she wears bracelets. This picture is engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. xv., tav. 18. Falkener, p. 65.

[60] The excessive illiberality of the Neapolitan government can hardly be conceived by those who live in a country where leave to copy and publish is so freely accorded. No one is allowed to draw a monument that has not already been published until after the expiration of three years, at the end of which time the paintings are so often changed by the fading of colours and the obliteration of the details as to render any attempt at copying them hopeless. Falkener, pp. 62 and 65.

The ceiling has a circular aperture, necessary for the admission of light and air, which is authorised by the example in the caldarium of the baths at Pompeii (Gell, Pompeiana, vol. i. pl. 31. Zahn, vol. ii. pl. 94.) The doorway breaking irregularly through the panel is not in accordance with modern notions of order and symmetry.

20. Œcus, so called from the Greek word signifying a house, was sometimes a very spacious chamber to accommodate guests at a more extensive banquet than could be held in the triclinium. Here it is broad but not deep. The upper part of the walls white, the dado black, and the intervening spaces red and black surmounted by a rich architecturally-painted entablature. It consists of architrave, frieze, and cornice. The architrave, or lower portion, green with white garlands; the frieze above this is purple having red panels bordered with yellow, and producing a capital effect; and yellow figures of Sirens, or winged female monsters, which uphold a bold projecting cornice. The perspective delineation of this cornice, with its supports, is very remarkable, especially that of the central projection; a similar boldness of perspective drawing may be seen in Pitt. Erc., vol. iii., p. 109, where the fullest knowledge is evinced of the distribution of light and shade.

The black and red divisions of these walls have large broad devices in green and red upon them. The central picture is a collection of silver vessels lined with gold, the variety of forms are well worthy of attention. The pavement of this apartment is inlaid from patterns well known at Pompeii. Zahn, vol. ii., pl. 87.

21. Bath, Balneum or Balineum, a small chamber appropriately fitted up. Light patterns on wall above, and middle spaces green, red, and blue in broad masses.

22. A small simply-decorated room, white with red dado.

23. The end wall of the peristyle. Its paintings are conspicuously seen from the principal entrance of the house. The general colour is white. Dado red and yellow. The three central compartments are copied from the House of the Augustals, or banqueting house commonly known by the name of the Pantheon. Beneath, a high canopy, supported by thin and gracefully ornamented columns, stands a lovely female with one foot upon the step of a door. She is in the act of playing the lyre, holding the plectrum with her right hand, and by her song seems to invite strangers to enter the portal. Upon the architrave of this porch is a yellow group of a Winged Victory in a biga driving at full speed, engraved in Zahn, vol. i., pl. 24. The left-hand figure is a priestess with a prefericulum, or small pitcher used for sacrifices, in her right hand, and a bunch of corn and poppies in the other. Her hair is bound by a yellow circlet, and the upper garment or mantle is remarkably similar to that in the dress of the celebrated Flora of the Capitol. (See Catalogue of Greek Court, No. 41.) The lower dress is blue and partly covering her yellow shoes. The architecture, seen through the portal of the hall which the priestess seems to be leaving, is admirably painted. The companion picture on the opposite side, is a young man in purple drapery, turned towards the fair lyrist, and seeming to offer a green wreath. The first two of these figures are engraved in the Museo Bor., vol. iii., tavole 5 and 6. The second one also in Malkin’s Pompeii, vol. ii., p. 315.

In the dado, beneath the figures just described, are large square stalls or recesses. In the centre one is an elegant figure of a girl holding a lyre, she seems to be sitting on the sill or edge of the opening. This figure is engraved in the Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 12., and in Raoul Rochette, Choix de Peintures, pl. 4; Zahn, vol. ii., pl. 77. Gell gives it in his second series of Pompeiana, vol. i., pl. 14, but surrounded by different groups to the original, although all are to be found within the same building. The group beyond forms a graceful heading to the view from the atrium looking through the right hand fauces, No. 11. It consists of two figures, a Victory with expanded wings holding an incense-burner in her right hand, and a patera in the left. She is crowned with laurel, the leaves of which stand like rays about the head. Behind and above her appears a goddess with a sceptre and tiara, either Venus or Juno, more probably the former; she is in the act of putting some incense into the burner held by the other figure. The patera with offerings like purple fruit on it, has been converted by Gell and Zahn into a painter’s palette and brushes; in the Mus. Bor. the Victory wears sandals; but in Zahn and Gell more correctly only ankle rings. The play of line in this group is very pleasing. This group is taken from the portico of the same building as the other figures, viz., the House of the Augustals, commonly called the Pantheon. The ground of the original is black, here it is rich red. Engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 19; Gell, vol. i., vignette heading to preface; Zahn, vol. i., pl. 2.

24. Culina. The apartment forming an angle of the peristyle was the kitchen, which is copied from the House of Sallust, excepting that the stove in this has only one arch instead of two. The painting of an altar, with eggs between two serpents, is of frequent occurrence. Serpents were cherished in ancient dwellings as creatures of good omen, and became domesticated, as quadrupeds are with us. A similar painting of serpents engraved in Pittore Ercolano, vol. iv., p. 65.

25. Side entrance into the street, immediately facing the bath.

26. Triclinium, opposite the Œcus. Large panels, blue, black, and yellow. Black dado, ceiling white, corresponding to that of the oecus opposite. The walls are also decorated in the same manner, with the exception of a frieze of boys carrying large garlands composed of fruits and flowers entwined with a pink and green ribband. The small central picture on a blue ground, represents a dish of fruit—grapes, pomegranates, green fig, dates, apricots, apple, and fircone.

Triclinium

The triclinium was the dining-room of an ancient Roman house. The guests did not sit at table, they reclined on couches arranged round three sides of a space for the table, leaving the rest open for the servants to arrange the dishes and move the trays. The word triclinium is derived from the three couches occupying the apartment which surrounded the mensa or table in the manner just described. Much importance was attached, in ancient times, to the disposal of the guests. The right hand couch was the most honourable; the person reclining upon it, with his left elbow nearest the railing, was the chief person in the assembly. The Romans were accustomed to rest with the left arm upon cushions during their meals, and after dinner to lie upon their backs and take their repose. In some Pompeian houses, the three couches forming the triclinium, were permanently fixed. The accompanying woodcut shows the arrangement of the places for a party of nine, the favourite number for a dinner among the Romans.

The guests, preparatory to reclining on the couches, took off their shoes, and were then provided with napkins, generally fringed, and often richly embroidered. Water was poured over their hands into basins of precious metal, a process repeated many times during an entertainment, and doubtless very necessary, as the fingers were much used in the course of eating. They had knives and spoons, but forks are entirely a modern invention and their mode of eating was very similar to that practised in oriental countries, where the right hand alone is made use of. Women, when admitted to the entertainment, always sat upon the couches. The same custom may be observed on the painted vases and bas-reliefs of the Greeks down to a late time.

The dinner consisted of three courses; first, the promulsis, or gustatio, chiefly stimulants to the appetite; the second contained an immense variety of dishes; the principal dish was called coenÆ caput or pompa. Among them chief delicacies were the pheasant, thrush, liver of a capon steeped in milk, and fig-eaters dressed with pepper. Hortensius the orator first introduced the peacock. The favourite fish were the turbot and mullet: eels, also, stewed with prawns. Pork, boar’s-flesh, and venison, were the most highly esteemed meats. The carving was performed to the sound of music, by an especial servant called the scissor, or carptor. The third course was the bellaria, or dessert, which consisted of uncooked fruits, such as occupy the centre of the wall before us. In addition to the fruits of the dessert great varieties of pastry were introduced, modelled in imitation of other articles of food; showers of perfume and occasional jets d’eau contributed to the luxury of the scene, but these were extravagancies, probably confined to the most wealthy citizens of Rome. The pages of Horace, Juvenal, Petronius, Martial, AthenÆus, Suetonius, Aulus Gellius, and Macrobius, afford curious detail of these entertainments, from which we may easily comprehend the enormous sums they are said to have cost. An extraordinary feast is represented, in a painting, at Pompeii, described by Mr. Donaldson. The table is set out with every requisite for a grand dinner. In the centre is a large dish containing four peacocks, their tails forming a magnificent dome. Around are lobsters, one of which holds in his claws a blue egg, a second an oyster, and another a little basket full of grasshoppers. Four dishes of fish decorate the bottom, above which are several partridges, hares, and squirrels, each holding its head between its paws. These are surrounded by something resembling a German sausage, then a row of yolks of eggs, then a row of peaches, small melons and cherries; lastly, a row of different vegetables, and the whole seems to be covered by a green coloured sauce.

Mulsum, wine made into a syrup by the addition of honey, was handed round to the guests at the commencement of the feast. Wine was kept in large earthenware jars, called AmphorÆ, stopped with a cork or wooden plug, covered with resin, or gypsum. These amphorÆ were sometimes made of glass. On the outside, the jars were marked with the names of the consuls in office at the time of the vintage from which the wine was made, to indicate its age. Sometimes little tickets to this effect were suspended from the necks. They generally had two ears, and were stored up in repositories such as were found in the suburban villa (p. 19). It was customary at great feasts according to Petronius (chap. xxxiv.) for the amphorÆ to be shown to the guests for them to read the labels before they were opened. Many of these vessels are represented in the paintings of Pompeii, and several originals from Rome and Alexandria are to be seen in the British Museum. Some of the glass cups and bowls filled with water are admirably represented. In one picture a decanter with the glass for drinking turned down over it, is in exact accordance with our modern custom. Elegant glass vases filled with fruit occur also among the paintings of the House of the Augustals, together with small earthen jars, having labels affixed.

In great houses it was not unusual for the guests after dinner to enjoy their wine in another room. After-dinner drinking, comissatio, or convivium, was equivalent to the symposium of the Greeks.

27. The winter Triclinium. A large square room, corresponding to the Thalamus. The walls are white, with deep red dado. Ceiling coved, and with a round aperture similar to the one in Thalamus. On the wall opposite the door are two beautiful floating Bacchantes, one with thyrsus and tympanum, the other dressed in pink and blue, holding a thyrsus in her left hand, and a floating scarf with the other. They are engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. ii., tav. 4, and in Zahn. vol. ii., pl. 13. The Bacchante next the door is the same as in cubiculum 16; her dress here is pale blue; she holds the tympanum and thyrsus; a nebris crosses her breast.

On the left hand wall may be seen a most charming group, exquisitely coloured, of a Faun supporting a Bacchante. The faun holds a bunch of grapes in his right hand, and with the other encircles her waist; his drapery is red, and her delicate form is surrounded by a transparent veil, apparently of gauze. The drapery enveloping the lower part of her figure is purple, heightened with white, shoes blue. The effect of the painting of this group is perfectly fascinating, and entirely realises the treatment required for cheerful subjects. The group is engraved in Mus. Bor., vol. xiii., tav. 16, where the background is described as yellow. The paintings in this room are copied from the House of the Female Flute-player and the House of the Bacchantes. The group last described is in the original of unusually large proportions for such subjects, being three-fourths of life size.

Thus, then, we have completed the gÍro of the Pompeian house. The ancients, although they have provided the graceful salutation for comers on their threshold in the word SALVE, do not afford the corresponding word VALE to “speed the parting guest.” Their manes, probably gratified by the interest now manifested in these monuments of their habits, requirements, and enjoyments, desire us to linger within these fairy walls, and to indulge in the thoughts of those who would, ages ago, have found nothing strange and nothing amiss here, excepting the appearance of the thronging visitors, whose costume and manners could never have been anticipated. The house, as we see it, is really a house such as the excavations might reveal. We have already shown that every part has its prototype at Pompeii.

The style of decorative painting during the earliest times of the empire merits attention. It is here exhibited on a larger scale and in a much more extensive series than ever before attempted in England; affording, in fact, the sole method by which such decorations can be fully understood. The subjects of the small central wall panels, and a few of the grotesque devices, have been often published, and are familiar to us through the medium both of prints and coloured copies; isolated portions, however, cannot suffice to give an idea of the harmonious effect that may be produced in mural decoration, by masses of even crude colour, when conjoined in proper proportion with others equally crude.[61] The eye at Pompeii is never offended by a want of balance in arrangement; and the system of confining the heaviest colours to the lower part of the room has been already noticed. Even copies of the same picture that come to England, on comparison, exhibit variations which destroy all feeling of confidence in their accuracy. They are for the most part so small as to conceal many important peculiarities of style, and can only serve as souvenirs. Here we see nothing on a reduced scale (except in Thalamus, No. 27), the paintings are not only of the same size as at Pompeii, but even the exactitude of the outlines is guaranteed to us by the fact of their having been traced from the originals.

[61] These colours could not appear equally crude to the ancients on account of the necessary darkness that pervaded their apartments. See ante, p. 31.

The scale and finish of the patterns have to a great extent been regulated by the size of the rooms which they adorn; and it will be seen that in the smaller rooms patterns must necessarily be more minute, and the form of the wall itself less regarded than in a larger apartment where they are viewed at a greater distance. The lightness of the architectural representations and their connection has been already mentioned. The painters seem to have delighted in representing every variety of pavilion, colonnade, balcony steps, rooms and corners, in short, all the ins and outs and ups and downs peculiar to buildings erected to form upper floors. They are, in fact, at variance with the ground stories actually remaining at Pompeii, where all columns and piers of brick and stone are comparatively massive, without any traces whatever of intermediate supports of wood or metal, such as are represented in the paintings. The arabesque devices which occupy so much of the wall space of Pompeii are replete with imagination and ingenious variety. There is, notwithstanding the censures of Vitruvius, which are inserted in page 69, such a playfulness and elegance in the combination of objects so unexpectedly brought together, that we tolerate incongruities, and regard the whole as a dreamlike succession of images, passing easily from one to the other, without any consideration of that which has gone before. The children rising out of flowers are charming; and the living lions, rushing through scroll work of the brightest hues, such as no living lions ever saw, are purely ornamental conceits. Again, the reeds for columns, with all the botanical details, of nodes and internodes, are extremely graceful; and with their rich colour and firm appearance, notwithstanding an extreme slenderness, they should be very suggestive to our metal workers as means of support. The monsters sometimes perched upon them, in perfect illustration of the words of Vitruvius, excite our surprise, and being frequently ugly in themselves, incline us to agree with the illustrious architect in wishing them away; but at the same time, without such paintings before us, how impossible it would be to comprehend the passages in his book relating to such matters, and depending for their effect upon the eye alone. The beautiful devices of the stanza nera, cubiculum No. 1, are sufficient illustrations of the grace with which incongruities may be combined, and how in a very small apartment, where minute decorations are appropriately introduced, each portion is to be read, as it were, by itself, or, if regarded generally, to seem merely a playful arrangement of colours relieving the monotony of the wall.

Landscapes as seen in cubicula 3 and 15 are said to be peculiarly the invention of Ludius, who lived in the early period of the empire. His conceits, as described by Pliny, have something almost Chinese about them, and his chief desire seems to have been to amuse and occupy the spectators. Extensive landscape views were found in the House of the Dioscuri in the four cubicula on the extreme right, seen in plan (No. 8, on page 39). An extensive painting of a sea-port was discovered in the House of the Small Fountain (plan No. 6). Some very quaint coast scenes, with enormous gallies, are engraved as vignettes in Pitture d’Ercolano, vol. iii., pp. 7 and 13. An extensive scene of a crowded mole, adorned with statues and arches, with a distant town and crowded boats on the water, is engraved at page 47 of the same vol. At page 279 of the same, is a curious representation of various figures on a wet, slippery ground, as described by Pliny in the paintings of Ludius. An extensive scene of a port, with shipping, numerous statues raised on columns, houses, gardens, people in boats and angling on the shore, was found at StabiÆ; it is engraved in vol. ii., page 295, of Pitture d’Ercolano. Eight small circular views of land and sea, animated by numerous figures, were also found at StabiÆ. They are engraved in the same volume at pp. 277, 281, 285, and 289, and form very important illustrations of ancient life and scenery. Curious buildings may be seen in vignettes on page 105 of same volume. A remarkable painting of a creek with four large ships filled with armed soldiers, with three rows of oars, is engraved in vol i., page 243. The gallies filled with armed troops are seen also in page 239. A curious latticed window in a landscape in page 229. These landscape views are all admirably engraved, in a faithful imitation of the masses of light and shade, and with careful attention to the smallest detail. In the Museo Borbonico, on the contrary, the style of engraving fails to render any one of the peculiarities of their execution. Many vignette landscapes are characteristically copied in vol. ii. of Gell’s Pompeiana, but they have not the completeness or richness of the Pitture d’Ercolano. Some curious illustrations of the social life of the Pompeians may be found in a series of pictures representing the ancient Forum of that city, thronged with the same variety of people that may be seen in the market places of Naples and other Italian cities, all occupied in similarly varied occupations of buying and selling, talking and idling; they supplied Bulwer with several incidents for his description, and have been engraved in vol. iii., page 213 to 231 of Pitture d’Ercolano.

Notwithstanding the frequent occurrence elsewhere of ancient paintings inscribed with the names of persons they are intended to represent, scarcely any instances have been met with in the cities overwhelmed by Vesuvius. The word DIDV is written in one picture in white characters near the head of a figure. The fragment was found at StabiÆ; it is engraved in vol. iii., page 231, of Pitture d’Ercolano. On the celebrated marble slab, monochrome drawings by Alexander of Athens; the artist has not only inscribed his own name, but those of the five females in his composition. It represents the visit of Niobe and her daughters to Latona. This picture was found at Herculaneum, May 24, 1746. A very beautiful little mosaic was inscribed with the name of Dioscorides, of Samos, as the artist; thus:

???S???????S S????S ?????S?.

There is great diversity of opinion amongst antiquarians as to the meaning of some of the most important pictures discovered at Pompeii and Herculaneum, which might have been obviated had the names of the characters been written upon them, as we see upon the ancient Greek vases, and upon the paintings of Polygnotus, and the chest of Cypselus, described by Pausanias, and, to descend to later and very different times, the well-known Bayeux tapestry, illustrating the history of William the Conqueror. In default of inscription, the Pompeian pictures can only be interpreted by their similarity to the descriptions of other ancient paintings left us by Pausanias, Lucian, Ælian, and Philostratus. The following extract from Vitruvius, book vii., chap. 5, affords a most important view of what innovations took place in his time, showing also, that even before the time of Augustus, mural decorations were composed of extensive architectural fancies, as well as harbours, landscapes, and sea-pieces.

EXTRACT FROM VITRUVIUS.
Book vii., Chap. 5.

“In other apartments—that is, in those of Spring, Autumn, and Summer, as also in the atrium and peristylium—the ancients have established certain methods of painting. A picture is the representation of things that are, or may be, as men, buildings, ships, and other things; of which the copy, by having the exact form and outlines of the real body, assumes the likeness. The ancients, who originally instituted this manner of decoration, at first imitated the varieties and marks of marble incrustation, then cornices, disposing between them divers silacious and miniaceous coloured ornaments. They proceeded afterwards to represent edifices with columns and pediments projecting; but in spacious places, such as exedrÆ, on account of the amplitude of the walls, they represented the fronts of scenes in the tragic, comic, or satyric manner; and ambulatories, being of a great length, they ornamented with landscapes, expressing the appearance of particular places, painting harbours, promontories, sea coasts, rivers, fountains, canals, temples, groves, mountains, cattle, and shepherds; in some places, also, large paintings of figures, representing the gods, or fabulous histories, the Trojan war, or the wanderings of Ulysses, and other subjects of a similar kind, which are conformable to the nature of things.

“But these subjects, which our forefathers copied from nature, are now, by our depraved manners, disapproved; for monsters, rather than the resemblances of natural objects, are painted on the stucco, reeds are substituted for columns, and for the pediments, fluted harpaginetuli, with curling foliage and volutes; also candelabra supporting the forms of little buildings, their pediments rising out of roots, with numerous volutes and tender stalks, having, contrary to reason, images sitting on them; so also the flowers from stalks have half figures springing therefrom, with heads, some like those of men, some like those of beasts, which things neither are nor can be, nor ever were: and this new mode so prevails that those who are not judges disregard the arts—for how is it possible for reeds to support a roof—or candelabra buildings and the ornaments of pediments—or stalks, which are so slender and soft, sitting figures—or the flowers of stalks produce half images? Yet men, being accustomed to the sight of these absurdities, do not censure, but are pleased with them, without considering whether they be proper or not; the judgment, depraved by habit, examines not whether they be according to propriety and the rules of decor; for pictures should not be approved unless they be conformable to truth, even although they be well executed, they ought, therefore, to be immediately condemned unless they can bear the trial of rational examination without being disapproved.

“Thus at Tralles, when Apaturius of Alabanda had excellently well painted a scene in the little theatre, which with them is called the Ecclesiasterion, and instead of columns had placed statues and centaurs, supporting the epistylium, the circular roof of the dome, and projecting corners of the pediments, and ornamented the cornice with lions’ heads, all which have reference to the roofing and eaves of edifices; above these, nevertheless, in the episcene, domes, porticos, semipediments, and all the various parts of buildings were again painted; wherefore upon the appearance of this scene, when by reason of its enrichment it was found pleasing to all, and they were ready to applaud the work, Licinius, the mathematician, then advanced and said, ‘the Alabandines are sufficiently intelligent in all civil affairs, but for a trifling impropriety are deemed injudicious; for the statues in their gymnasium are all in the attitude of pleading causes, while those in the forum are holding the discus, or in the attitude of running or playing with balls; so that the unsuitableness of the attitudes of the figures to the purposes of the places, throws a public disgrace upon the city. Let us then take care that by the scene of Apaturius we are not deemed Alabandines, or even Abderites; for who among you places upon the tiles of the roofs of your houses columns or pediments? These things are placed upon the floors, not upon the tiles. If then we approve in painting what cannot be in fact, we of this city shall be like those who, on account of the same error, are deemed illiterate.’ Apaturius dared not to reply, but took down the scene and altered it so as to be consistent to truth; after which it was approved. I, with the immortal gods, would restore Licinius to life, that he might correct this folly and fashionable disfigurement of our stucco work; but why a false overcomes a just mode it will not be foreign to the purpose to explain.

“The ancients, with labour and application, endeavoured to make their works be approved by the excellences of art; this is now supplied by the beauty of colours, and the use of those of the most costly kind; and that value which was formerly given to works by the skill of the artist, is not desired since the expense of the proprietor supplies its place. Who among the ancients is known to have used minium otherwise than sparingly and as a medicine? But now it is everywhere laid over the whole wall; it is the same with crysocolla, ostrum, and armenium, which, when laid, although without any art, appear very brilliant to the sight, and they are so costly, that it is usually specified in the articles of agreement that they shall be purchased by the proprietor, and not by the contractor.”

Pliny, also, who perished, it must be remembered, dining the conflagration of the cities (see page 8), affords some curious testimony to the popularity of this mode of decoration, and of one particular painter, Ludius. He says, book xxxv., chapter 10—

EXTRACT FROM PLINY’S NATURAL HISTORY.

“Ludius was he who first devised to beautify the walls of a house with the pleasantest painting that is in all variety; to wit, with the resemblance of manors, farms, and houses of pleasure in the country; havens, vinets, flower-work in knots; groves, woods, forests, hills, fish-pools, conduits and drains, rivers, riverets, with their banks, and people, some walking and going to and fro on foot, others sailing and rowing up and down the stream upon the water, or else riding by land to their farms, either mounted upon then mules and asses, or else in waggons and coaches; there a man should see folk, in this place fishing and angling, in that place hawking and fowling; some hunting here, the hare, the fox, or deer, both red and sallow; others busy there, in harvest or vintage. In this manner of painting, a man should behold of his workmanship, fair houses, standing among marshes, into which all the ways that lead be ticklish and full of bogs; where you should see the paths so slippery, that women as they go are afraid to let one foot afore another; some at every step ready to slide, others bending forward with their heads, as though they carried some burdens upon their neck and shoulders, and all for fear lest, their feet sliding under them, they should catch a fall; and a thousand more devices and pretty conceits as these, full of pleasure and delight. The same Ludius devised walls without doors, and abroad in the open air, to paint cities standing by the sea-shore: all which kind of painting pleaseth the eye exceedingly well, and is besides of little or no cost. Howbeit, neither he nor any artificers of this kind—howsoever otherwise respected—grew ever to be famous and of great name; that felicity attained they only unto who used to paint in tables, and therefore in this regard, venerable antiquity we have in greater admiration; for painters in old time loved not to garnish walls for to pleasure the master only of the house, nor yet to bedeck in houses that manner that cannot stir out of the place nor shift and save themselves when fire cometh, as painted tables may that are to be removed with ease.”

The reconstruction of an ancient house from the descriptions of ancient authors has been several times attempted.

Pirro Ligorio, a Neapolitan architect, erected the villa Pia, 1570, for Pope Pius V. It was built in imitation of the houses of the ancients, whose architecture he had particularly studied. Mazois, whose large work on Pompeii has formed, as it were, the basis of almost all Pompeian studies, wrote an elaborate essay on the palaces of the ancient Romans, under the title “Le Palais de Scaurus.” In this all the descriptions of ancient authors were supposed to be comprised. His work, however, was confined to the pen; and it is to be regretted that Mazois did not undertake an architectural reproduction, as an actual copy of one of the houses he explored whilst they were comparatively perfect, and for which he was so thoroughly qualified. Only one undertaking of this kind has preceded the Pompeian Court at Sydenham. It was prompted by the taste of a monarch, remarkable for his interest in the fine arts of all nations and all ages. The ex-king of Bavaria had a villa built at Aschaffenburg, which was the complete restoration of an ancient Roman house found at Pompeii. It was erected by the celebrated architect, GÄrtner, and is an exact copy of the House of the Dioscuri.

The visitor to Pompeii is but too frequently disappointed at the crumbling condition of the disentombed city; and the majority take little trouble to trace the origin of this first and unfavourable impression. They do not reflect upon the relation between different portions of the ruins, the use or particular object originally served, the custom that produced it, or the former appearance of the details in the harmony of their original arrangement, with the groups of gaily attired inhabitants giving animation to the scene. Like the greater portion of the curious who throng the Elgin Saloon of the British Museum, for the purpose of taking a peep at the mutilated fragments of the marbles contained within its walls, such visitors to Pompeii look for excellencies that do not exist, and a harmony incompatible with the actual condition of the remains; and, discontented at finding things in opposition to their own conceptions, they depart with imperfect and even prejudiced ideas of what they really have beheld. Few arrive at Pompeii with even a general idea of the appearance of an ancient Roman house, and are thus incapable of judging of the actual importance of the crumbling remains of the buried cities.

Repeated visits, and careful and laborious investigation, are necessary for perfect comprehension of the value of the ruins, in guiding the observer towards an accurate idea of the state of the city in its prime. To the careless and the uninitiated these few scattered fragments, snatched from the very jaws of desolation, will afford but a faint reflection of the glory and the triumphs that have for ever passed away.

Such were the persevering studies of Cockerell, Digby Wyatt, Donaldson, Falkener, Gell, Hayes, Mazois, and Zahn; and to their investigations we are indebted for all the conclusions displayed in this interesting building. We behold at a glance the result of the experience of many years, and the combined exertions of our most distinguished architects, and may safely assert that no more agreeable method than that afforded by this reconstruction could be devised for making the public acquainted with the details of a Pompeian house.


NOTE.

In the Atrium are placed two handsome marble benches, such as the clients might have sat upon whilst waiting for audience with their patron. The ends, which are elaborately carved, have been copied from an original model in the Vatican Museum, and the whole has been presented to the Crystal Palace Company by the London Marble Working Company, through their secretary, Mr. Clare.

BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.


Large plan.

The House of Pansa. Discovered at Pompeii, 1811. (See page 42.)


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page