In proportion as the blackness gathered did the lightnings around
Vesuvius increase in their vivid and scorching glare. Nor was their
horrible beauty confined to the usual hues of fire; no rainbow ever
rivalled their varying and prodigal dyes. Now brightly blue as the most
azure depth of a southern sky--now of a livid and snakelike green,
darting restlessly to and fro as the folds of an enormous serpent--now
of a lurid and intolerable crimson, gushing forth through the columns of
smoke, far and wide, and lighting up the whole city from arch to
arch--then suddenly dying into a sickly paleness, like the ghost of
their own life!
In the pauses of the showers you heard the rumbling of the earth beneath
and the groaning waves of the tortured sea; or, lower still, and audible
but to the watch of intensest fear, the grinding and hissing murmur of
the escaping gases through the chasms of the distant mountain. Sometimes
the cloud appeared to break from its solid mass, and, by the lightning,
to assume quaint and vast mimicries of human or of monster shapes,
striding across the gloom, hurtling one upon the other, and vanishing
swiftly into the turbulent abyss of shade; so that to the eyes and
fancies of the affrighted wanderers the unsubstantial vapors were as the
bodily forms of gigantic foes--the agents of terror and of death.
The ashes in many places were already knee-deep; and the boiling showers
which came from the steaming breath of the volcano forced their way into
the houses, bearing with them a strong and suffocating vapor. In some
places immense fragments of rock, hurled upon the house roofs, bore down
along the streets masses of confused ruin, which yet more and more, with
every hour, obstructed the way; and, as the day advanced, the motion of
the earth was more sensibly felt--the footing seemed to slide and
creep--nor could chariot or litter be kept steady, even on the most
level ground.
Sometimes the huger stones, striking against each other as they fell,
broke into countless fragments, emitting sparks of fire, which caught
whatever was combustible within their reach; and along the plains beyond
the city the darkness was now terribly relieved, for several houses, and
even vineyards, had been set on flames; and at various intervals the
fires rose sullenly and fiercely against the solid gloom. To add to this
partial relief of the darkness, the citizens had, here and there, in the
more public places, as the porticoes of temples and the entrances to the
forum, endeavored to place rows of torches; but these rarely continued
long; the showers and the winds extinguished them, and the sudden
darkness into which their sudden birth was converted had something in it
doubly terrible and doubly impressing on the impotence of human hopes,
the lesson of despair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account