DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61617#0034
4
POMPEII
marine traffic the circuitous route around Vesuvius to the Sarno.
However that may have been, Pompeii was beyond doubt the
most important town in the Sarno plain.
Pompeii formerly lay nearer the sea and nearer the river
than at present. In the course of the centuries alluvial deposits
have pushed the shore line further and further away. It is
now about a mile and a quarter from the nearest point of the
city to the sea; in antiquity it was less than a third of a mile.
The line of the ancient coast can still be traced by means of a
clearly marked depression, beyond which the stratification of
the volcanic deposits thrown out in 79 does not reach. The
Sarno, too, now flows nearly two thirds of a mile from Pompeii;
in antiquity, according to all indications, it was not more than
half so far away.
In point of climate and outlook, a fairer site for a city could
scarcely have been chosen. The Pompeian, living in clear air,
could look down upon the fogs which in the wet season fre-
quently rose from the river and spread over the plain. And
while in winter, Stabiae, lying on the northwest side of Monte
Sant’ Angelo, enjoyed the sun for only a few hours, the eleva-
tion on which Pompeii stood, sloping gently toward the east and
south, more sharply toward the west, was bathed in sunlight
during the entire day.
Winter at Pompeii is mild and short; spring and autumn
are long. The heat of summer, moreover, is not extreme. In
the early morning, it is true, the heat is at times oppressive.
No breath of air stirs; and we look longingly off upon-the
expanse of sea where, far away on the horizon, in the direc-
tion of Capri, a dark line of rippling waves becomes visible.
Nearer it comes, and nearer. About ten o’clock it reaches
the shore. The leaves begin to rustle, and in a few moments
the sea breeze sweeps over the city, strong, cool, and invigo-
rating. The wind blows till just before sunset. The early
hours of the evening are still; the pavements and the walls
of the houses give out the heat which they have absorbed
during the day. But soon—-perhaps by nine o’clock — the
tree tops again begin to murmur, and all night long, from the
mountains of the interior, a gentle, refreshing stream of air
POMPEII
marine traffic the circuitous route around Vesuvius to the Sarno.
However that may have been, Pompeii was beyond doubt the
most important town in the Sarno plain.
Pompeii formerly lay nearer the sea and nearer the river
than at present. In the course of the centuries alluvial deposits
have pushed the shore line further and further away. It is
now about a mile and a quarter from the nearest point of the
city to the sea; in antiquity it was less than a third of a mile.
The line of the ancient coast can still be traced by means of a
clearly marked depression, beyond which the stratification of
the volcanic deposits thrown out in 79 does not reach. The
Sarno, too, now flows nearly two thirds of a mile from Pompeii;
in antiquity, according to all indications, it was not more than
half so far away.
In point of climate and outlook, a fairer site for a city could
scarcely have been chosen. The Pompeian, living in clear air,
could look down upon the fogs which in the wet season fre-
quently rose from the river and spread over the plain. And
while in winter, Stabiae, lying on the northwest side of Monte
Sant’ Angelo, enjoyed the sun for only a few hours, the eleva-
tion on which Pompeii stood, sloping gently toward the east and
south, more sharply toward the west, was bathed in sunlight
during the entire day.
Winter at Pompeii is mild and short; spring and autumn
are long. The heat of summer, moreover, is not extreme. In
the early morning, it is true, the heat is at times oppressive.
No breath of air stirs; and we look longingly off upon-the
expanse of sea where, far away on the horizon, in the direc-
tion of Capri, a dark line of rippling waves becomes visible.
Nearer it comes, and nearer. About ten o’clock it reaches
the shore. The leaves begin to rustle, and in a few moments
the sea breeze sweeps over the city, strong, cool, and invigo-
rating. The wind blows till just before sunset. The early
hours of the evening are still; the pavements and the walls
of the houses give out the heat which they have absorbed
during the day. But soon—-perhaps by nine o’clock — the
tree tops again begin to murmur, and all night long, from the
mountains of the interior, a gentle, refreshing stream of air