Pliny the Younger was staying at the home of his uncle, Pliny the Elder, a historian, naturalist and man of encyclopaedic knowledge who commanded the Roman naval fleet stationed at Misenum. Some years later, the historian Tacitus asked Pliny the Younger to describe what had happened during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
My uncle was at Misenum, where he was in command of the fleet. On 24 August, in the early afternoon, my mother drew his attention to a cloud of extraordinary size and appearance.
He had been sunbathing and had then taken a cold bath. After eating a light meal while lying down, he had begun studying. He asked for his shoes and climbed to a place from which he could observe the phenomenon more clearly.
A cloud was rising into the sky. Its shape and appearance could best be compared to a pine tree.
It rose into the air upon what seemed like a very tall trunk and then spread out into branches. I believe that it was first carried upwards by a sudden current of air and that, as the wind weakened, the cloud was left unsupported or was overcome by its own weight. It then spread through the air and gradually dispersed, appearing sometimes white and sometimes dark and stained, according to the amount of earth and ash it carried.
To my uncle, who was a highly educated man, this appeared to be an important phenomenon worthy of closer examination. He therefore ordered a light vessel to be prepared and offered me the opportunity to accompany him. I replied that I preferred to continue studying, as he himself had given me a writing exercise to complete.
As he was leaving the house, he received a message from Rectina, the wife of Tascius. Terrified by the approaching danger—her villa stood at the foot of the mountain, and escape was possible only by sea—she begged him to rescue her from that dreadful situation. My uncle then changed his plans and, with heroic courage, undertook as a rescue mission what he had originally begun out of scientific curiosity.
He ordered the quadriremes to be launched and boarded one himself, intending to assist not only Rectina but many others, as that beautiful stretch of coastline was densely populated. He hurried towards the place from which everyone else was fleeing, steering directly into danger. He remained so fearless that he dictated or personally recorded every new stage and every feature of that terrible disaster as it appeared before his eyes.
Ash was already falling upon the ships, becoming hotter and denser as they drew nearer. Pumice stones and black rocks, scorched and shattered by the fire, also began to fall. The water suddenly became shallow, while debris that had rolled down the mountain made the shore inaccessible. For a moment, he hesitated and considered turning back. When the helmsman advised him to do so, my uncle replied: “Fortune favours the brave. Steer towards Pomponianus’s villa at Stabiae!”
Stabiae lay on the opposite side of the bay, where the coastline gradually curves to form an inlet. Although the danger had not yet reached him, Pomponianus could see it approaching and growing ever nearer. He had already loaded his belongings onto ships and was waiting to escape as soon as the opposing wind subsided.
The same wind was highly favourable to my uncle’s voyage. As soon as he arrived, he embraced his frightened friend, comforted and encouraged him and, to calm his anxiety by demonstrating his own composure, asked to be taken to the baths. After bathing, he sat down to dinner and ate cheerfully—or at least, and this was equally courageous, with every appearance of serenity.
Meanwhile, broad sheets of fire and tall flames shone from several parts of Vesuvius, their brightness intensified by the darkness of the night. To reassure those around him, my uncle repeatedly said that these were fires left burning by farmers who had fled in panic and abandoned villas blazing in the solitude.
He then went to bed and genuinely fell asleep, since his loud and heavy breathing, caused by his large build, could be heard by everyone passing outside his room. The courtyard, however, had become so deeply covered with a mixture of ash and pumice that, had he remained in the bedroom much longer, he would have been unable to leave.
When he awoke, he came out and joined Pomponianus and the others, who had remained awake throughout the night. They discussed whether they should remain inside the house or venture into the open. The building was shaking as a result of frequent and powerful earthquakes and seemed to sway backwards and forwards as though torn from its foundations. Outside, however, there was the danger of falling pumice stones, although they were light and porous.
After comparing the two dangers, they eventually chose to go outside. My uncle reached this decision through calm reasoning, while the others were driven by the greater of their fears. They placed cushions on their heads and secured them with cloths as protection against the falling stones. Daylight had returned elsewhere, but around them it remained night—a darkness denser and blacker than any ordinary night, although illuminated by fires and flashes of light.
They decided to go down to the shore to see whether it was possible to escape by sea, but the water was still dangerous and violently disturbed. A sheet was spread on the ground, and my uncle lay down upon it. He repeatedly asked for cold water to drink. Then flames and the smell of sulphur, announcing the approach of the fire, forced the others to flee and made him rise. Supported by two slaves, he managed to stand but soon collapsed again.
I believe that the air, heavily laden with ash, prevented him from breathing and obstructed his throat, which was naturally weak, narrow and frequently inflamed. When daylight returned on the following day—the third day after he had last seen the sun—his body was found intact and uninjured, still dressed in the clothes he had worn when he departed. He appeared more like a man asleep than one who was dead.
Italian version translated from the Latin by Plinio Caio Gracco.
