It is remarkable that the architects of Pompeii seem to have been careless for the most part whether they built on a regular or an irregular area. The practice of surrounding the owner's abode with shops, enabled them to turn to advantage the sides and corners of any piece of ground, however misshapen. Thus in another plan the apartments of the dwelling-houses are almost all well shaped and rectangular, though not one of the four angles of the area is a right angle.
The general view of this house is taken from the street in front, and runs completely through to the garden wall. One of the pilasters which flank the doorway has its capital still in good preservation. It is cut out of gray lava, and represents a Silenus and Faun side by side, each holding one end of an empty leather bottle, thrown over their shoulders. Ornaments of this character, which can be comprehended under none of the orders of architecture, are common in Pompeii, and far from unpleasing in their effect, however contrary to established principles. On the right is the large opening into the vestibule. In the centre of the view is the atrium, easily recognized by the impluvium, and beyond it through the tablinum are seen the pillars of the portico. Beyond the impluvium is the place of a small altar for the worship of the Lares. A bronze hind, through the mouth of which a stream of water flowed, formerly stood in the centre of the basin. It bore a figure of Hercules upon its back.
The walls of the atrium and tablinum are curiously stuccoed in large raised panels, with deep channels between them, the panels being painted of different colors, strongly contrasted with each other.
We find among them different shades of the same color, several reds, for instance, as sinopis, cinnabar, and others. This sort of decoration has caused some persons to call this the house of a color-seller—a conjecture entirely at variance with the luxury and elegance which reign in it. The floor was of red cement, with bits of white marble imbedded in it.
The altar in the atrium and the little oratory in the left-hand ala belong to the worship of the Lares domestici or familiares, as is indicated by the paintings found in the false doorway, but now removed. They consisted of a serpent below and a group of four figures above, employed in celebrating a sacrifice to these gods.
In the centre is a tripod, into which a priest, his head covered, is pouring the contents of a patera. On each side are two young men, dressed alike, apparently in the prætexta; at least their robes are white, and there is a double red stripe down the front of their tunics, and a red drapery is thrown over the shoulders of each. In one hand each holds a patera; in the other each holds aloft a cow's horn perforated at the small end, through which a stream is spouting into the patera at a considerable distance. This, though an inconvenient, seems to have been a common drinking-vessel. The method of using it has already been described. In the background is a man playing on the double flute.
The worship of the Lares was thus publicly represented, and their images were exposed to view, that all persons might have an opportunity of saluting them and invoking prosperity on the house. Noble families had also a place of domestic worship (adytum or penetrale) in the most retired part of their mansions, where their most valuable records and hereditary memorials were preserved.
The worship of these little deities (Dii minuti, or patellarii) was universally popular, partly perhaps on account of its economical nature, for they seem to have been satisfied with anything that came to hand, partly perhaps from a sort of feeling of good fellowship in them and towards them, like that connected with the Brownies and Cluricaunes, and other household goblins of northern extraction.
Like those goblins they were represented sometimes under very grotesque forms. There is a bronze figure of one found at Herculaneum, and figured in the Antiquites d'Herculanum, plate xvii. vol. viii., which represents a little old man sitting on the ground with his knees up to his chin, a huge head, ass's ears, a long beard, and a roguish face, which would agree well with our notion of a Brownie. Their statues were often placed behind the door, as having power to keep out all things hurtful, especially evil genii. Respected as they were, they sometimes met with rough treatment, and were kicked or cuffed, or thrown out of window without ceremony, if any unlucky accident had chanced through their neglect. Sometimes they were imaged under the form of dogs, the emblems of fidelity and watchfulness, sometimes, like their brethren of the highways (Lares compitales), in the shape of serpents.
The tutelary genii of men or places, a class of beings closely allied to Lares, were supposed to manifest themselves in the same shape: as, for example, a sacred serpent was believed at Athens to keep watch in the temple of Athene in the Acropolis. Hence paintings of these animals became in some sort the guardians of the spot in which they were set up, like images of saints in Roman Catholic countries, and not unfrequently were employed when it was wished to secure any place from irreverent treatment.
From these associations the presence of serpents came to be considered of good omen, and by a natural consequence they were kept (a harmless sort of course) in the houses, where they nestled about the altars, and came out like dogs or cats to be patted by the visitors, and beg for something to eat. Nay, at table, if we may build upon insulated passages, they crept about the cups of the guests; and in hot weather ladies would use them as live boas, and twist them round their necks for the sake of coolness.
Martial, however, our authority for this, seems to consider it as an odd taste. Virgil, therefore, in a fine passage, in which he has availed himself of the divine nature attributed to serpents, is only describing a scene which he may often have witnessed:
Scarce had he finished, when with speckled pride,
A serpent from the tomb began to glide;
His hugy bulk on seven high volumes rolled;
Blue was his breadth of back, but streaked with scaly gold;
Thus, riding on his curls, he seemed to pass
A rolling fire along, and singe the grass.
More various colors through his body run,
Than Iris, when her bow imbibes the sun.
Betwixt the rising altars, and around,
The rolling monster shot along the ground.
With harmless play amidst the bowls he passed,
And with his lolling tongue assayed the taste;
Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest
Within the hollow tomb retired to rest.
The pious prince, surprised at what he viewed,
The funeral honors with more zeal renewed;
Doubtful if this the place's genius were,
Or guardian of his father's sepulchre.
We may conjecture from the paintings, which bear a marked resemblance to one another, that these snakes were of considerable size, and of the same species, probably that called Æsculapius, which was brought from Epidaurus to Rome with the worship of the god, and, as we are told by Pliny, was commonly fed in the houses of Rome. These sacred animals made war on the rats and mice, and thus kept down one species of vermin; but as they bore a charmed life, and no one laid violent hands on them, they multiplied so fast, that, like the monkeys of Benares, they became an intolerable nuisance. The frequent fires at Rome were the only things that kept them under.
Passing through the tablinum, we enter the portico of the xystus, or garden, a spot small in extent, but full of ornament and of beauty, though not that sort of beauty which the notion of a garden suggests to us. It is not larger than a city garden, the object of our continual ridicule; yet while the latter is ornamented only with one or two scraggy poplars, and a few gooseberry-bushes with many more thorns than leaves, the former is elegantly decorated by the hand of art, and set apart as the favorite retreat of festive pleasure. True it is that the climate of Italy suits out-of-door amusements better than our own, and that Pompeii was not exposed to that plague of soot which soon turns marble goddesses into chimney-sweepers. The portico is composed of columns, fluted and corded, the lower portion of them painted blue, without pedestals, yet approaching to the Roman rather than to the Grecian Doric. The entablature is gone. From the portico we ascend by three steps to