WHEN my uncle had started, I spent such time as was left on my studies -- it was on their account, indeed, that I had stopped behind. Then followed the bath, dinner, and sleep, this last disturbed and brief. There had been noticed for many days before a trembling of the earth, which had caused, however, but little fear, because it is not unusual in Campania. But that night it was so violent, that one thought that everything was being not merely moved but absolutely over-turned. My mother rushed into my chamber; I was in the act of rising, with the same intention of awaking her should she have been asleep. We sat down in the open court of the house, which occupied a small space between the buildings and the sea. And now -- I do not know whether to call it courage or folly, for I was but in my eighteenth year -- I called for a volume of Livy, read it, as if I were perfectly at leisure, and even continued to make some extracts which I had begun. Just then arrived a friend of my uncle, who had lately come to him from Spain; when he saw that we were sitting down -- that I was even reading -- he rebuked my mother for her patience, and me for my blindness to the danger. Still I bent myself as industriously as ever over my book.
It was now seven o'clock in the morning, but the daylight was still faint and doubtful. The surrounding buildings were now so shattered, that in the place where we were, which though open was small, the danger that they might fall on us was imminent and unmistakable. So we at last determined to quit the town. A panic-stricken crowd followed us. They preferred the ideas of others to their own -- in a moment of terror this has a certain look of prudence -- and they pressed on us and drove us on, as we departed, by their dense array. When we had got away from the building, we stopped. There we had to endure the sight of many marvelous, many dreadful things. The carriages which we had directed to be brought out moved about in opposite directions, though the ground was perfectly level; even when scotched with stones they did not remain steady in the same place. Besides this, we saw the sea retire into itself, seeming, as it were, to be driven back by the trembling movement of the earth. The shore had distinctly advanced, and many marine animals were left high and dry upon the sands. Behind us was a dark and dreadful cloud, which, as it was broken with rapid zigzag flashes, revealed behind it variously shaped masses of flame: these last were like sheet lightning, though on a larger scale.
Then our friend from Spain addressed us more energetically and urgently than
ever. "If your brother," he said, "if your uncle is alive, he wishes you to be
saved; if he has perished, he certainly wished you to survive him. If so, why
do you hesitate to escape?"
We answered that we could not bear to think about our own safety while we were
doubtful of his. He lingered no longer, but rushed off, making his way out of
the danger at the top of his speed. It was not long before the cloud that we
saw began to descend upon the earth and cover the sea. It had already
surrounded and concealed the island of Capreae, and had made invisible the
promontory of Misenum.
My mother besought, urged, even commanded me to fly as best I could; "I might
do so," she said, "for I was young; she, from age and corpulence, could move
but slowly, but would be content to die, if she did not bring death upon me."
I replied that I would not seek safety except in her company; I clasped her
hand, and compelled her to go with me. She reluctantly obeyed, but continually
reproached herself for delaying me.
Ashes now began to fall -- still, however, in small quantities. I looked
behind me; a dense dark mist seemed to be following us, spreading itself over
the country like a cloud.
"Let us turn out of the way," I said, "whilst we can still see, for fear that
should we fall in the road we should be trodden underfoot in the darkness by
the throngs that accompany us."
We had scarcely sat down when night was upon us, -- not such as we have when
there is no moon, or when the sky is cloudy, but such as there is in some
closed room when the lights are extinguished. You might hear the shrieks of
women, the monotonous wailing of children, the shouts of men. Many were raising
their voices, and seeking to recognize by the voices that replied, parents,
children, husbands, or wives. Some were loudly lamenting their own fate, others
the fate of those dear to them. Some even prayed for death, in their fear of
what they prayed for. Many lifted their hands in prayer to the gods; more were
convinced that there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless night
of which we have heard had come upon the world. There were not wanting persons
who exaggerated our real perils with terrors imaginary or willfully invented. I
remember some who declared that one part of the promontory Misenum had fallen,
that another was on fire; it was false, but they found people to believe
them.
It now grew somewhat light again; we felt sure that this was not the light
of day, but a proof that fire was approaching us. Fire there was, but it
stopped at a considerable distance from us; then came darkness again, and a
thick heavy fall of ashes. Again and again we stood up and shook them off ;
otherwise we should have been covered by them, and even crushed by the weight.
I might boast that not a sigh, not a word wanting in courage, escaped me, even
in the midst of peril so great, had I not been convinced that I was perishing
in company with the universe, and the universe with me -- a miserable and yet a
mighty solace in death.
At last the black mist I had spoken of seemed to shade off into smoke or cloud,
and to roll away. Then came genuine daylight, and the sun shone out with a
lurid light, such as it is wont to have in an eclipse. Our eyes, which had not
yet recovered from the effects of fear, saw everything changed, everything
covered deep with ashes as if with snow. We returned to Misenum, and, after
refreshing ourselves as best we could, spent a night of anxiety in mingled hope
and fear. Fear, however, was still the stronger feeling; for the trembling of
the earth continued, while many frenzied persons, with their terrific
predictions, gave an exaggeration that was even ludicrous to the calamities of
themselves and of their friends.
Even then, in spite of all the perils which we had experienced and which we
still expected, we had not a thought of going away till we could hear news of
my uncle.