Personal Recollections, from Early Life to Old Age, of Mary Somerville Part 22

CAMBRIDGE, _April 21st, 1869_.

MY DEAR MRS. SOMERVILLE,

I heard, when I was in London, that you were still in good bodily health, and in full fruition of your great intellectual strength, while breathing the sweet air of Naples. I had been a close prisoner to my college rooms through the past winter and spring; but I broke from my prison-house at the beginning of this month, that I might consult my oculist, and meet my niece on her way to Italy.... My niece has for many years (ever since 1840) been my loving companion during my annual turn of residence as canon of Norwich; and she is, and from her childhood has, been to me as a dear daughter. I know you will forgive me for my anxiety to hear from a living witness that you are well and happy in the closing days of your honoured life; and for my longing desire that my beloved daughter (for such I ever regard her) should speak to you face to face, and see (for however short an interview) the Mrs. Somerville, of whom I have so often talked with her in terms of honest admiration and deep regard.

The time for the Italian tour is, alas! far too short. But it will be a great gain to each of the party to be allowed, even for a short time, to gaze upon the earthly paradise that is round about you, and to cast one look over its natural wonders and historic monuments....

Since you were here, my dear and honoured guest, Cambridge is greatly changed. I am left here like a vessel on its beam ends, to mark the distance to which the current has been drifting during a good many bygone years. I have outlived nearly all my early friends. Whewell, Master of Trinity, was the last of the old stock who was living here. Herschel has not been here for several years.

Babbage was here for a day or two during the year before last. The Astronomer-Royal belongs to a more recent generation. For many years long attacks of suppressed gout have made my life very unproductive.

I yesterday dined in Hall. It was the first time I was able to meet my brother Fellows since last Christmas day. A long attack of bronchitis, followed by a distressing inflammation of my eyes, had made me a close prisoner for nearly four months. But, thank G.o.d, I am again beginning to be cheery, and with many infirmities (the inevitable results of old age, for I have entered on my 85th year) I am still strong in general health, and capable of enjoying, I think as much as ever, the society of those whom I love, be they young or old. May G.o.d preserve and bless you; and whensoever it may be His will to call you away to Himself, may your mind be without a cloud and your heart full of joyful Christian hope!

I remain, My dear Friend, Faithfully and gratefully yours, ADAM SEDGWICK.

After all the violence and bloodshed of the preceding year, the Thanksgiving of Queen Victoria and the British nation for the recovery of the Prince of Wales will form a striking event in European history.

For it was not the congregation in St. Paul's alone, it was the spontaneous grat.i.tude of all ranks and all faiths throughout the three kingdoms that were offered up to G.o.d that morning; the people sympathized with their Queen, and no sovereign more deserves sympathy.

Vesuvius has exhibited a considerable activity during the winter and early spring, and frequent streams of lava flowed from the crater, and especially from the small cone to the north, a little way below the princ.i.p.al crater. But these streams were small and intermittent, and no great outbreak was expected. On the 24th April a stream of lava induced us to drive in the evening to Santa Lucia. The next night, Thursday, 25th April, my daughter Martha, who had been to the theatre, wakened me that I might see Vesuvius in splendid eruption. This was at about 1 o'clock on Friday morning. Early in the morning I was disturbed by what I thought loud thunder, and when my maid came at 7 a.m. I remarked that there was a thunder storm, but she said, "No, no; it is the mountain roaring." It must have been very loud for me to hear, considering my deafness, and the distance Vesuvius is from Naples, yet it was nothing compared to the noise later in the day, and for many days after. My daughter, who had gone to Santa Lucia to see the eruption better, soon came to fetch me with our friend Mr. James Swinton, and we pa.s.sed the whole day at windows in an hotel at Santa Lucia, immediately opposite the mountain. Vesuvius was now in the fiercest eruption, such as has not occurred in the memory of this generation, lava overflowing the princ.i.p.al crater and running in all directions. The fiery glow of lava is not very visible by daylight; smoke and steam is sent off which rises white as snow, or rather as frosted silver, and the mouth of the great crater was white with the lava pouring over it. New craters had burst out the preceding night, at the very time I was admiring the beauty of the eruption, little dreaming that, of many people who had gone up that night to the Atrio del Cavallo to see the lava (as my daughters had done repeatedly and especially during the great eruption of 1868), some forty or fifty had been on the very spot where the new crater burst out, and perished, scorched to death by the fiery vapours which eddied from the fearful chasm. Some were rescued who had been less near to the chasm, but of these none eventually recovered.

Behind the cone rose an immense column of dense black smoke to more than four times the height of the mountain, and spread out at the summit horizontally, like a pine tree, above the silvery stream which poured forth in volumes. There were constant bursts of fiery projectiles, shooting to an immense height into the black column of smoke, and tinging it with a lurid red colour. The fearful roaring and thundering never ceased for one moment, and the house shook with the concussion of the air. One stream of lava flowed towards Torre del Greco, but luckily stopped before it reached the cultivated fields; others, and the most dangerous ones, since some of them came from the new craters, poured down the Atrio del Cavallo, and dividing before reaching the Observatory flowed to the right and to the left--the stream which flowed to the north very soon reached the plain, and before night came on had partially destroyed the small town of Ma.s.sa di Somma. One of the peculiarities of this eruption was the great fluidity of the lava; another was the never-ceasing thundering of the mountain. During that day we observed several violent explosions in the great stream of lava: we thought from the enormous volumes of black smoke emitted on these occasions that new craters had burst out--some below the level of the Observatory; but that can hardly have been the case. My daughters at night drove to Portici, and went up to the top of a house, where the noise seems to have been appalling; but they told me they did not gain anything by going to Portici, nor did they see the eruption better than I did who remained at Santa Lucia, for you get too much below the mountain on going near. On Sunday, 28th, I was surprised at the extreme darkness, and on looking out of window saw men walking with umbrellas; Vesuvius was emitting such an enormous quant.i.ty of ashes, or rather fine black sand, that neither land, sea, nor sky was visible; the fall was a little less dense during the day, but at night it was worse than ever.

Strangers seemed to be more alarmed at this than at the eruption, and certainly the constant loud roaring of Vesuvius was appalling enough amidst the darkness and gloom of the falling ashes. The railroad was crowded with both natives and foreigners, escaping; on the other hand, crowds came from Rome to see the eruption. We were not at all afraid, for we considered that the danger was past when so great an eruption had acted as a kind of safety-valve to the pent-up vapours. But a silly report got about that an earthquake was to take place, and many persons pa.s.sed the night in driving or walking about the town, avoiding narrow streets. The mountain was quite veiled for some days by vapour and ashes, but I could see the black smoke and silvery ma.s.s above it. While looking at this, a magnificent column, black as jet, darted with inconceivable violence and velocity to an immense height; it gave a grand idea of the power that was still in action in the fiery caverns below.

Immense injury has been done by this eruption, and much more would have been done had not the lava flowed to a great extent over that of 1868.

Still the streams ran through Ma.s.sa di Somma, San Sebastiano, and other villages scattered about the country, overwhelming fields, woods, vineyards, and houses. The ashes, too, have not only destroyed this year's crops, but killed both vines and fruit trees, so that altogether it has been most disastrous. Vesuvius was involved in vapour and ashes till far on in May, and one afternoon at sunset, when all below was in shade, and only a few silvery threads of steam were visible, a column of the most beautiful crimson colour rose from the crater, and floated in the air. Many of the small craters still smoked, one quite at the base of the cone, which is a good deal changed--it is lower, the small northern cone has disappeared, and part of the walls of the crater have fallen in, and there is a fissure in them through which smoke or vapour is occasionally emitted.

On the 1st June we returned to Sorrento, this time to a pretty and cheerful apartment close to the sea, where I led very much the same pleasant life as the year before--busy in the morning with my own studies, and pa.s.sing the rest of the day on the terrace with my daughters, who brought me beautiful wild flowers from their excursions over the country. Many of the flowers they brought were new to me, and it is a curious fact that some plants which did not grow in this part of the country a few years ago are now quite common. Amongst others, the Trachelium coeruleum, a pretty wall-plant, native of Calabria, and formerly unknown here, now clothes many an old wall near Naples, and at Sorrento. The ferns are extremely beautiful here. Besides those common to England, the Pteris cretica grows luxuriantly in the damp ravines, as well as that most beautiful of European ferns, the Woodwardia radicans, whose fronds are often more than six feet long. The inhabitants of Sorrento are very superior to the Neapolitans, both in looks and character; they are cleanly, honest, less cruel to animals, and have pleasant manners--neither too familiar nor cringing. As the road between Sorrento and Castellamare was impa.s.sable, owing to the fall of immense ma.s.ses of rock from the cliffs above it, we crossed over in the steamer with our servants and our pet birds, for I now have a beautiful long-tailed parroquet called Smeraldo, who is my constant companion and is very familiar. And here I must mention how much I was pleased to hear that Mr. Herbert, M.P., has brought in a bill to protect land birds, which has been pa.s.sed in Parliament; but I am grieved to find that "The lark which at Heaven's gate sings" is thought unworthy of man's protection. Among the numerous plans for the education of the young, let us hope that mercy may be taught us a part of religion.

Though far advanced in years, I take as lively an interest as ever in pa.s.sing events. I regret that I shall not live to know the result of the expedition to determine the currents of the ocean, the distance of the earth from the sun determined by the transits of Venus, and the source of the most renowned of rivers, the discovery of which will immortalise the name of Dr. Livingstone. But I regret most of all that I shall not see the suppression of the most atrocious system of slavery that ever disgraced humanity--that made known to the world by Dr. Livingstone and by Mr. Stanley, and which Sir Bartle Frere has gone to suppress by order of the British Government.

The Blue Peter has been long flying at my foremast, and now that I am in my ninety-second year I must soon expect the signal for sailing. It is a solemn voyage, but it does not disturb my tranquillity. Deeply sensible of my utter unworthiness, and profoundly grateful for the innumerable blessings I have received, I trust in the infinite mercy of my Almighty Creator. I have every reason to be thankful that my intellect is still unimpaired, and, although my strength is weakness, my daughters support my tottering steps, and, by incessant care and help, make the infirmities of age so light to me that I am perfectly happy.

I have very little more to add to these last words of my Mother's Recollections. The preceding pages will have given the reader some idea--albeit perhaps a very imperfect one--of her character and opinions. Only regarding her feelings on the most sacred of themes, is it needful for me to say a few words. My mother was profoundly and sincerely religious; hers was not a religion of mere forms and doctrines, but a solemn deep-rooted faith which influenced every thought, and regulated every action of her life. Great love and reverence towards G.o.d was the foundation of this pure faith, which accompanied her from youth to extreme old age, indeed to her last moments, which gave her strength to endure many sorrows, and was the mainspring of that extreme humility which was so remarkable a feature of her character.

At a very early age she dared to think for herself, fearlessly shaking off those doctrines of her early creed which seemed to her incompatible with the unutterable goodness and greatness of G.o.d; and through life she adhered to her simple faith, holding quietly and resolutely to the ultimate truths of religion, regardless alike of the censure of bigots or the smiles of sceptics. The theories of modern science she welcomed as quite in accordance with her religious opinions. She rejected the notion of occasional interference by the Creator with His work, and believed that from the first and invariably He has acted according to a system of harmonious laws, some of which we are beginning faintly to recognise, others of which will be discovered in course of time, while many must remain a mystery to man while he inhabits this world. It was in her early life that the controversy raged respecting the incompatibility of the Mosaic account of Creation, the Deluge, &c., with the revelations of geology. My mother very soon accepted the modern theories, seeing in them nothing in any way hostile to true religious belief. It is singular to recall that her candid avowal of views now so common, caused her to be publicly censured by name from the pulpit of York Cathedral. She foresaw the great modifications in opinion which further discoveries will inevitably produce; but she foresaw them without doubt or fear. Her constant prayer was for light and truth, and its full accomplishment she looked for confidently in the life beyond the grave. My mother never discussed religious subjects in general society; she considered them far too solemn to be talked of lightly; but with those near and dear to her, and with very intimate friends, whose opinion agreed with her own, she spoke freely and willingly. Her mind was constantly occupied with thoughts on religion; and in her last years especially she reflected much on that future world which she expected soon to enter, and lifted her heart still more frequently to that good Father whom she had loved so fervently all her life, and in whose merciful care she fearlessly trusted in her last hour.

My mother's old age was a thoroughly happy one. She often said that not even in the joyous spring of life had she been more truly happy. Serene and cheerful, full of life and activity, as far as her physical strength permitted, she had none of the infirmities of age, except difficulty in hearing, which prevented her from joining in general conversation. She had always been near-sighted, but could read small print with the greatest ease without gla.s.ses, even by lamp-light. To the last her intellect remained perfectly unclouded; her affection for those she loved, and her sympathy for all living beings, as fervent as ever; nor did her ardent desire for and belief in the ultimate religious and moral improvement of mankind diminish.

She always retained her habit of study, and that pursuit, in which she had attained such excellence and which was always the most congenial to her,--Mathematics--delighted and amused her to the end.

Her last occupations, continued to the actual day of her death, were the revision and completion of a treatise, which she had written years before, on the "Theory of Differences" (with diagrams exquisitely drawn), and the study of a book on Quaternions. Though too religious to fear death, she dreaded outliving her intellectual powers, and it was with intense delight that she pursued her intricate calculations after her ninetieth and ninety-first years, and repeatedly told me how she rejoiced to find that she had the same readiness and facility in comprehending and developing these extremely difficult formulae which she possessed when young. Often, also, she said how grateful she was to the Almighty Father who had allowed her to retain her faculties unimpaired to so great an age.

G.o.d was indeed loving and merciful to her; not only did He spare her this calamity, but also the weary trial of long-continued illness.

In health of body and vigour of mind, having lived far beyond the usual span of human life, He called her to Himself. For her Death lost all its terrors. Her pure spirit pa.s.sed away so gently that those around her scarcely perceived when she left them. It was the beautiful and painless close of a n.o.ble and a happy life.

My mother died in sleep on the morning of the 29th Nov., 1872. Her remains rest in the English Campo Santo of Naples.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 18: "Darwinism in Morals," &c.]

THE END.