I recently watched the new film Pompeii. I’ll leave my views
on that for a separate blog post. I thought, for those that have seen the film
or about to do so, that it would be interesting to read an eye-witness account of
the eruption of Vesuvius by the Roman writer Pliny the Younger. A small section
of his account is quoted at the beginning of the film. I give below the full
version, which was written in two letters to Tacitus – who was writing a
history. Sadly, Tacitus’ history is now missing the section that gives his
research on the disaster.
From pp.193-198 and 200-204
of: The Letters of Pliny the Younger, Volume II, Books VI-X, Literally Translated,
with Notes. Melmoth’s Translation, Revised by Bosanquest. Published in 1900 by Hinds,
Nobel & Eldredge, New York.
LETTER XVI. 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 accident 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 render his name immortal. Happy I esteem those to be to whom by provision of
the gods has been granted the ability either to do such actions as are worthy
of being related or to relate them in a manner worthy of being read; but
peculiarly 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, that 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 taken a turn in the sun, and, after bathing himself in cold water, and
making a light luncheon, gone back to his books: he immediately arose and went
out upon a rising ground from whence he might get a better sight of this very
uncommon appearance. A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain, at this
distance (but it was found afterwards to come from Mount Vesuvius), was
ascending, the appearance of which I cannot give 'you a more exact description
of than by likening it to that of a pine tree, for it shot up to a great height
in the form of a very tall trunk, which spread itself out at the top into a
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 the manner I
have mentioned; it appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark and spotted, according
as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders.
This phenomenon seemed to a man of such learning and
research as my uncle extraordinary and worth further looking into. He ordered a
light vessel to be got ready, and gave me leave, if I liked, to accompany him. I said I had rather go on with my work; and it
so happened he had himself given me something to write out. 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
lying at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea; she
earnestly entreated him therefore to come to her assistance.
He accordingly changed his first intention, and what he had
begun from a philosophical, he now carries out in a noble and generous spirit.
He ordered the galleys to put to sea, and went himself on board with an
intention of assisting not only Rectina, but the several other towns which lay
thickly strewn along that beautiful coast. Hastening then to the place from
whence others fled with the utmost terror, he steered his course direct 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 all the phenomena of
that dreadful scene. He was now so close to 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 in danger too
not only of being a-ground 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 turn back again; to which
the pilot advising him, ‘Fortune.’ said he, ‘favours the brave; steer to where Pomponianus
is.’
Pomponianus was then at Stabiae, separated by a bay, which
the sea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore. He had
already sent his baggage on board; for though he was not at that time in actual
danger, yet being within sight 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,
which was blowing dead in-shore, should go down. It was favourable, however, for carrying my
uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation: he embraced
him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to keep up his spirits, and, the more
effectually to soothe his fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath
to be got ready, and then, after having bathed, sat down to supper with great
cheerfulness, or at least (what is just as heroic) with every appearance of it.
Meanwhile broad flames shone out in several places from
Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still
brighter and clearer. 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 disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep: for his
breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was rather heavy and sonorous,
was heard by the attendants outside. 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. So he was awoke
and got up, and went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were
feeling too anxious to think of going to bed. They consulted together whether
it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side to
side with frequent and violent concussions as though shaken from their very
foundations; 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 choice of dangers they resolved for the fields: 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 deeper darkness prevailed than in the thickest night; which however was
in some degree alleviated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They
thought proper to go farther down upon the shore to see if they might safely
put out to sea, but found the waves still running extremely high, and boisterous.
There my uncle, laying himself down upon a sail cloth, which was spread for
him, called twice for some cold water, which he drank, when immediately the
flames, preceded by a strong whiff of sulphur, dispersed the rest of the party,
and obliged him to rise. 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 a weak throat, which was often inflamed.
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, in the dress in which he fell, and looking more like
a man asleep than dead. During all this time my mother and I, who were at
Misenum — but this has no connection with your history, and you did not desire
any particulars besides those of my uncle's death; so I will end here, only
adding that I have faithfully related to you what I was either an eye-witness
of myself or received immediately after the accident happened, and before there
was time to vary the truth. You will pick out of this narrative whatever is most
important: for a letter is one thing, a history another; it is one thing
writing to friend, another thing writing to the public. Farewell.
LETTER XX. To Tacitus.
The letter which, in compliance with your request, I wrote
to you 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, my account broke off:
'Though my shock'd soul recoils, my tongue shall tell.' [here
Pliny is quoting Virgil’s Aeneid]
My uncle having left us, I spent such time as was left on my
studies (it was on their account indeed that I had stopped behind), till it was
time for my bath. After which I went to supper, and then fell into a short and
uneasy sleep. There had been noticed for many days before a trembling of the
earth, which did not alarm us much, as this is quite an ordinary occurrence in
Campania; but it was so particularly violent that night that it not only shook
but actually overturned, as it would seem, everything about us.
My mother rushed into my chamber, where she found me rising,
in order to awaken her. We sat down in the open court of the house, which
occupied a small space between the buildings and the sea. As I was at that time
but eighteen years of ago, I know not whether I should call my behaviour, in this
dangerous juncture, courage or folly; but I took up Livy, and amused myself with
turning over that author, and even making extracts from him, as if I had been
perfectly at my leisure. Just then, a friend of my uncle's, who had lately come
to him from Spain, joined us, and observing me sitting by my mother with a book
in my hand, reproved her for her calmness, and me at the same time for my
careless security nevertheless I went on with my author.
Though it was now morning, the light was still exceedingly
faint and doubtful; 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
without imminent danger: we therefore resolved to quit the town. A
panic-stricken crowd followed us, and (as to a mind distracted with terror every
suggestion seems more prudent than its own) pressed on us in dense array to drive
us forward as we came out. Being 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, broken with rapid,
zigzag flashes, revealed behind it variously shaped masses of flame: these last
were like sheet-lightning, but much larger. Upon this our Spanish friend, whom
I mentioned above, addressing himself to my mother and me with great energy and
urgency: ‘If your brother,' he said, ‘if your uncle be 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.
Upon this our friend left us, and withdrew from the danger with the utmost
precipitation.
Soon afterwards, the cloud began to descend, and cover the
sea. It had already surrounded and concealed the island of Capreae and the
promontory of Misenum. My mother now besought, urged, even commanded 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 would 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, compelled her to go with me.
She complied with great reluctance, and not without many reproaches to herself
for retarding my flight.
The ashes now began to fall upon us, though in no great
quantity. I looked back; a dense dark mist seemed to be following us, spreading
itself over the country like a cloud. 'Let us turn out of the high-road,' I
said, ‘while we can still see, for fear that, should we fall in the road, we
should be pressed to death in the dark, by the crowds that are following us.’ We
had scarcely sat down when night came upon us, not such as we have when the sky
is cloudy, or when there is no moon, but that of a room when it is shut up, and
all the lights put out.
You might hear the shrieks of women, the screams of children,
and the shouts of men ; some calling for their children, others for their
parents, others for their husbands, and seeking to recognise each other by the
voices that replied; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family;
some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting their hands to
the gods; but the greater part 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.
Among these there were some who augmented the real terrors
by others imaginary or wilfully invented? I remember some who declared that one
part of Misenum had fallen, that another was on fire; it was false, but they
found people to believe them.
It now grew rather lighter, 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 stand up 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 me, had not my
support been grounded in that miserable, though mighty, consolation, that all
mankind were involved in the same calamity, and that I was perishing with the world
itself.
At last this dreadful darkness was dissipated by degrees, like
a cloud or smoke; the real day returned, and even the sun shone out, though
with a lurid light, like when an eclipse is coming on. Every object that
presented itself to our eyes (which were extremely weakened) seemed changed, being
covered deep with ashes as if with 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 many frenzied persons ran up and down
heightening their own and their friends' calamities by terrible predictions.
How-ever, 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 could
receive some news of my uncle.
And now, you will read this narrative without any view of
inserting it in your history, of which it is not in the least worthy; and
indeed you must put it down to your own request if it should appear not worth
even the trouble of a letter. Farewell.
by Abbott and Mansfield. What undoubtedly terrifies someone new to the subject when they flick through the two hundred and twenty pages of this book is that it is mostly tables of grammatical data and small paragraphs of grammatical rules. That style of throwing an avalanche of grammatical data at a student (and little else) is from the age that the book was written in, the nineteenth century. In that century, even the books trying to provide a simple way to learn classical Greek still began with fifty to a hundred pages or so of grammatical tables. That is how it had been done for who knows how long. The latter part of the twentieth century saw many institutions trying new ways of teaching classical languages. One of those was and still is by JACT.
, into a second edition and for it to be published in a format matching the other books. JACT have also retired their single tape cassette for the course by recording a newer version which is a two CD set, 
by Stephen Clarke. The title does not even begin to relate how funny the book is to read. Although the title suggests a somewhat anti-French approach to the subject of history, that is not the case. Clarke bursts the bubble on many British and French myths about the history of those two countries and their relationships over the past one thousand years. The strength of the book, the strength of the humour, is that Clarke’s style and his ability as a writer is that of a genuinely funny raconteur. The book begins with William the Conqueror, explaining that he was not French and how he greatly disliked the French, and finishes on the Channel Tunnel and the realities of the English and French relations behind its creation. 
