Mt. Vesuvius

Up to the beginning of the Christian era this volcano (ca. 4000 ft.) is not known to have been in eruption. After centuries of inactivity, earthquakes culminated in the great explosion of August 24, A.D. 79, an account of which has been preserved in two letters of the younger Pliny to Tacitus. His uncle, the elder Pliny, who was in command of the fleet, set out on that afternoon to rescue people at Herculaneum and was suffocated by fumes. No lava was emitted in this eruption, Herculaneum and Pompeii being destroyed by a mixture of condensing steam and volcanic ash. For nearly 1500 years afterward the volcano remained in a state of comparative quiesence.

A Cloud arose (it was uncertain, at a Distance, from what Mountain, tho’ it appear’d after to be Vesuvius) in Likeness and Form resembling; a Pine-Tree; for it was elevated to a good Height, with a long Trunk, and distributed in several Branches … Now the Ashes fell among the Gallies warmer and thicker, the nearer they approach’d: then the Pumice-Stones and others, burnt to a Coal, and broken with the Fire … On the other Side, a gloomy and dreadful Cloud, rent by the unequal vibrating Motions of a fiery Meteor, open’d in flames of various length; they did not much differ from Lightening, but were larger … The Ashes began to fall upon us, but in small Quantities: I look’d back, a gross Mist follow’d us, and spread it self on the Earth like a Deluge … At last, this pitchy Vapour was dissipated by Degrees, and was lost like Smoke, or a Cloud; presently the Day appear’d in Reality, and the Sun shone out, but with a lowring and a dull Complexion, as if it was Eclips’d.

(Pliny’s Epistles, 1724 edit.; Bk vi, portions of letters xvi and xx.)

One of the best welcoming festivities I ever saw was put on for us a couple of months ago when Vesuvius erupted for us as we sat out in the harbor in front of it for two days. At night all you could see were red streaks scarring the night in a most melodramatic way. Shakespeare would have added this frightening sight to the spectacles of terror he pictured in Julius Caesar. For three days we watched the show from front row seats and later saw the tremendous billowing clouds of ash, spiralling up to 20,000 ft. in the air in the most beautiful graceful surges. Vineyards and a few houses were ruined but there was no great tragedy. The woes of a few farmers seem picayune compared to the national misfortunes that leave the average Italian apathetic about anything except leaving his home.

(Robert H. Bates, Anzio, May, 1944.)