Part 22 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration: I. LATELY EXCAVATED ARE CAREFULLY PROTECTED.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: II. PUBLIC BATHS WITH ARCADES.]
Almost all of us had read Bulwer-Lytton's novel, ”The Last Days of Pompeii,” and were familiar with his vivid description of the fearful eruption of Vesuvius which overwhelmed the city in the year A.D.
79,--the darkness, the terror of the people, the hasty flight, the roar of explosions, the volcanic lightnings, the scorching ashes, the sulphurous fumes, and the hot rain. Very interesting to us were the places described by Bulwer in his novel; the dwelling of the magistrate Pansa, the villa of the wealthy Diomede where eighteen skeletons surrounded by provisions and jewels had been found, the house of the poet Glaucus whose threshold was guarded by the mosaic of a chained dog with the now well known motto 'Cave Canem' or 'Beware of the Dog.' Most interesting, perhaps, was the Temple of Isis, in which the most exciting incidents of Bulwer's novel took place. There the guide showed us the altar, the well, the secret stairway, the platform from which the oracle spoke, and the spot where the skeleton of the priest with an ax was found.
”Broken columns and ruined walls are all that remain of the grandeur of the Forum,” explained the guide as he led the way through a triumphal arch into a large area. ”These extensive marble-paved floors were once decorated with statues of the ill.u.s.trious men of Pompeii.”
”The Forum was a bustling place,” he continued, as we stood in the centre of the area. ”In the open court the people met to exchange opinions and obtain the news. On the porticoes the money changers made loans and the brokers sold real estate and grain. It was the political center of the city. Here the magistrates administered justice. Here the populace met with joyful acclamations to raise a favorite to power, and here, too, angry mobs gathered to compel an offending ruler to vacate his office. It was the religious centre as well; for adjoining the Forum are the ruins of the Temple of Mercury, the Temple of Venus, the Temple of Jupiter, and the Temple of Augustus.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: MOST INTERESTING, PERHAPS, IS THE TEMPLE OF ISIS.]
When we were ready to leave Pompeii, after a tramp through other streets and a visit to the Museum, the subject of giving a fee to the guide was considered. At the gate when entering we had read a notice stating that guides furnished by the government were not permitted to accept fees from visitors. The guide a.s.signed to us, however, had been very obliging and had given much interesting information. Appreciating this we slipped into his hand secretly at parting a token of our good will. ”Gratia!
Gratia!” very heartily he responded, a.s.suring us that our gift, the forbidden, was acceptable.
After returning from Pompeii to our steams.h.i.+p we found that although the evening hours had arrived, the harbor was still a scene of animation.
Scores of Italian stevedores were carrying baskets of coal on their shoulders from barges into the bunkers of the Moltke. Near by other laborers were hoisting crates of lemons and oranges and lowering them into the hold of an English steamer. A little rowboat with a stove on board was running a brisk restaurant business, selling bread, coffee, fried eggs, fried potatoes, and fried fish to boatmen and laborers, who managed to devour the viands without a.s.sistance of plate, knife, or fork.
Alongside our steamer a number of boys in a rowboat were making a distracting noise with tin pans and crude instruments, looking up in the hope that some one would pay them for creating a disturbance. In another boat, gaily attired Neapolitan musicians played and sang popular airs in a pleasing way that drew coins from the pockets of the hearers. At the close of each piece of music one of the women held a spread umbrella upside down to catch the coppers that were dropped into it from the deck thirty feet above.
”The daylight ends too soon,” regretfully observed one of our party, an artist of considerable reputation, who, seated in his favorite nook near the stern, was endeavoring to complete his color notes and sketches of the picturesque scenes before the darkness hid them from view. ”But the sky above the mountain is reddening and the glow of Vesuvius will give me work for to-night.”
CHAPTER XVII.
NICE AND MENTONE.
Throughout the cruise to the Orient, up to the time of departure from Naples, our party of tourists had the great steamer to themselves, there being no other pa.s.sengers on board. At Naples, however, a change took place. As the Steams.h.i.+p Company granted us the privilege of remaining over in Europe and returning later in the season in some other steamer of the same line, a large number of the tourists left the Moltke at Naples for side trips on the Continent, and many more intended to leave at Nice; so that not more than one-fourth of the original number was booked to return direct from Nice to New York. During the time our steamer lay at Naples a cargo of freight was taken on board, and on the day of departure one thousand steerage pa.s.sengers ascended the gangway, some with valises of curious shape, a few dragging trunks, but the greater number with all their possessions in bags or bundles.
At ten o'clock on the night of March thirtieth, we stood at the rail watching the lights on the sh.o.r.e gradually disappearing from sight as the Moltke steamed away from the harbor.
”What must be the thoughts of these Neapolitan exiles as they sail away from 'Sunny Italy,' their place of birth, their homeland, and their friends?” mused my friend, referring to the emigrants gazing farewell to their native land.
[Ill.u.s.tration: MANY CLOTHES-LINES WERE FILLED.]
”There is sadness in their hearts, for their faces and att.i.tudes show it,” said he, answering his own question. ”Some of the women are shedding tears. But they are all hopeful. They have heard that in the promised land there is plenty of work, high wages, enough to eat, and, what is far better, opportunity to rise. In Italy there is scarcity of work, low wages, a chunk of black bread, and nothing better to look forward to in the future.”
”You are right, young man, there is something to look forward to in America, an opportunity to rise in the world,” said a fellow tourist, well known as a man of wealth and distinction. ”I can sympathize with these poor people who are seeking to better their condition. Thirty years ago I was a poor man, leaving Europe in the steerage as an emigrant to the land of promise. I worked my way to the West, became a miner, and met with success.”
”To reach America appears to be the desire of many in Italy,” remarked another. ”In the elevator of one of the hotels in Naples I found the elevator boy studying an English spelling book. He said, 'I am going to America as soon as I have money enough; there is a chance for me to become something if I can get to New York.' A cab driver asked me if I knew his cousin in Chicago. 'My cousin,' said he, 'saved enough money to buy a third-cla.s.s pa.s.sage to New York. That was just three years ago.
Now he is sending money home to his friends to take them over. He must be doing well. We never have any money to give away.' Money to spare for his friends! That told the cabman the story of a golden land.”
On Tuesday, as we sailed northward, we pa.s.sed the island of Elba, on which the banished Napoleon remained ten months after his abdication. We endeavored to recall the history of the events that preceded the great Emperor's first downfall; the campaign in Russia, the burning of Moscow, the winter retreat, the depletion of the grand army by frost and hunger.
But when the little island of Monte Cristo came in sight, memory brought to mind pleasanter recollections,--Dumas' story of the ”The Count of Monte Cristo,” so wonderful in our youthful days, Edmond Dantes' escape from the dungeon, the cave on the island, and the fabulous wealth concealed therein.
On the day of arrival at Nice, hundreds of owners of automobiles from all parts of Europe were a.s.sembled in that city for trials of speed; the morning races had taken place and the dust-covered racers were just coming in from their fast runs. On the way to the hotel we saw an automobile run over one man and knock another down. An excited French woman who was rolled over in the dust but not injured followed the offending car to the garage with tongue, hands, and arms all in rapid motion. She was giving the chauffeur a tongue-las.h.i.+ng and calling his attention to her soiled clothing. Her tirade prompted the chauffeur to draw some coins from his pocket and place them in her hand, and then her hurt feelings apparently were quickly relieved.
Nice has a delightful climate. It is protected from the cold winds of the north by hills and mountains and fanned by the mild breezes of the sea. Royalty, beauty, and wealth make their abode in this favorite resort on the sh.o.r.e of the Mediterranean during the winter season, and English lords, French counts, Russian princes, German barons, and American millionaires sojourn at the magnificent hotels or reside in beautiful villas.