18 MAY 1872, Page 12

CORRESPONDENCE.

VESUVIUS IN ERUPTION.

[We have received the following lively account of the eruption of Vesuvius from a friend, being extracts from a letter from Naples.—En. Spectator.] [TO THE EDITOR OP THE "SPECTATOR.'] This long while past, the mountain has been slightly erup- tive, and little thin streams of lava would run down from the crater, now at one side and now at another, and glow through the night ; but they never went further than the foot of the cone, and mostly cooled at once, and were no longer to be seen the night following ; at other times, one could only see a flame shoot up now and then from the summit and disappear, which we called " Vesuvius smoking his cigar." Early last week, however, the spectacle became much finer. On Wednesday night the whole top of the cone appeared encircled with fire, and from the mass lava streams descended on all sides, while three craters at the summit continually threw red-hot atones high into the air, which glanced through the smoke and fell in sparkling showers, to be hurled again aloft. On Thursday evening much the same spectacle was to be seen, and many people ascended the mountain to obtain a nearer view, and thus it was that many perished ; for as they were ad- vancing in all apparent security to where one of the small lava streams was:flowing, the mountain-side suddenly opened from top to bottom, lava flowed out and surrounded some ; others were

gib struck down and horribly burned by red-hot stones, and were with difficulty rescued, in some cases only to die in hospital afterwards.

It is not known how many perished. Very exaggerated accounts were current at first, and it was said many foreigners were among

might be seen a fat proprietor of a menaced villa, recognisable by tie great door-key protruding from his coat-tail pocket, haggling with porters for the removal of his furniture, and while they haggled the lava came down and rendered farther dispute useless; and here was a woman silently weeping, and there one shouting aloud to her patron saint, whose image she had hung out of window, to keep off the ruthless enemy ; and over the shouting -of the men, and the weeping of the women, and the calling to each other, and the voices of the drivers as they urged on their 'horses, came ever and incessantly the thundering roar of the mountain. And now the road is cut, and the carts have to take by-paths, soon also to be intercepted ; and then the police push back the crowd, and the lava is at the houses, and first one falls and then another ; the " fat proprietor's " villa is gone, and his big door-key useless. But what is that shout and rush ? The lava has reached a house, when on the terrace appears a woman screaming for help. She wanted to rescue yet another bundle, and her retreat is cut off ; the lava is rising against the walls, and soon all will be a ruin, and she wrings her hands wildly, and a shout is raised, "A ladder, a ladder !" and the crowd fall back, and the police hurry on a few brave fellows carrying one between them ; it is placed against the tottering house, a brave 'man (he is a common soldier) rushes up, and brings down the almost senseless woman, not a minute too soon, for with a rumble the house falls, and the lava occupies its place. But see I It advances no more ; it has turned, it passes on down to the 'Plain, to new destruction, but the rest of the village is saved. Leaving this point, I went to see the stream that was menac- ing Santo Jorio. There the scene was widely different. The lava was advancing over much the same ground it had gone over in the last eruption ; was destroying nothing, for it had nothing to destroy ; it was widening out excessively ; the frontage on which it was advancing being perhaps a mile wide, and for that very reason it was creeping on excessively slowly ; while, on the con- trary, several other streams were advancing rapidly in different 'directions. I therefore came to the conclusion that SantoJorio ran no immediate peril, and would probably escape altogether ; and so it turned out, for while the Santo Sebastiano stream ran between four and five miles in the twenty-four hours, the Santo Jorio one did not run half a mile in the same time.

We then turned towards home, and on our way the sun set ; and now was to be seen a sight of rare beauty, as his dying rays cast a rosy tint over the mountain, and piles of smoke and vapour, rising mass upon mass above it, while below began to glow the fava's lurid fire, and from the summit columns of fiery stones rent 'the towering mass, shooting 1,300 metres high from the crater's edge. At the Casino we found dinner awaiting us, but, to say truth, I had but little appetite. As I saw I should not be wanted at the Casino, I was very desirous to get back to Naples, where I knew A. and the children would be extremely anxious as long as I was away. Along the road there was the same " confusion, worse confounded" by the darkness ; but I got home all safe. The mountain was, at this time, a sublime and wonderful spec- tacle; half shrouded in the smoke that rose from all its aides, it seemed of more than usual height ; a great stream of glowing lava descended on the left, and plunging down a precipice in waves of liquid fire, could be traced far out into the plain, its dull red glare lightened at intervals by the more yellow flame of burning 'houses ; a similar stream on the right traced the curves of the 'mountain in that direction, while at the base the great stream that menaced Santo Jorio and all the plain below could be traced in its majestic breadth ; other minor streams of fire furrowed the mountain in different directions; while above, the majestic pile of vapour was divided by the ever renewed column of flame and incandescent stones, which, after shooting to nnknown heights, might be seen falling in showers of brilliant sparks and rolling down the mountain side Next morning, Saturday, the lava in every direction had almost stopped flowing, but the roaring continued unabated. In the course of the day the lava stopped entirely. When we awoke on Sunday morning, although long after sunrise. it was still dark ; it was raining ashes, and a thick, dark stratum covered everything. As the day advanced, it was a most melancholy one ; the sun at times struggled out in a sickly manner, Vesuvius was shrouded by an impenetrable veil of vapour, from within which the ceaseless grumble continued to shake the heavy air. Ashes and dust were everywhere, closed windows did not keep them out ; everything was gritty, ashes were in your eyes, nose, ears, and mouth ; you eat theta with your food, drank them with your drink, and inhaled them with your breath ; the streets were silent, for the ashes deadened the sounds of the wheels ; few people were about, and those with umbrellas pressed closely over their heads, and constantly wiping their eyes,—it was a queer sight, we all looked like dustmen. The next day was worse, for a high wind drove the ashes everywhere, and then they penetrated where they had stayed away before, if indeed there were any such places. On Tuesday the wind ceased, but it rained instead, and as.water and sand make mud, it literally rained mud, so where ashes were before now was mud ; and still Vesuvius, shrouded in gloom, growled unceasingly, and still the fear of earthquake haunted the timid, but only a few very slight shocks were felt. Yesterday, at last, things cleared. The wind changed, and the ashes, if any, were carried elsewhere. The mountain was silent, the lava black, the sun shone out, people went about as usual, the peasants began returning to their homes, and in Naples a general clearing began to take place ; in short, although to-day we have again a sprinkling of ashes, the great eruption of 1872 may be said to be at an end.