Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

Midnight was approaching; the heavens were beautifully clear,
and a solemn stillness reigned around. All listened with breathless
attention, yet no sound could be heard of that hollow, subturraueous
rumbling, which usually precedes a convulsion of the
uarth. Even one amongst the party, who laid his ear close to the
ground, could not discover anything to cause alarm.
Herod suddenly thought that he heard, not far distant, some-
thin:; lie could not define. His friends were divided in their
opinions, till it was soon discovered to be the reiterated barks of
a watch dog, on the roof of an adjacent villa. The barking
echoed along the valley, and became gradually stronger and
quicker, till it broke out into a loud, tremulous howl, which was
soon taken up by several other dogs in the neighborhood. "A
remarkable omen," said Herod, as he shook his head thoughtfully.
On a sudden, the horses, with manes erect pawed the ground,
reared, plunged, and dasbed with their riders, foaming on.
Close to the city, the greater part of the inhabitants, weary of
watching and exhausted with anxiety, returned to their dwellings.
While some wondered that the appearances were EO much
had ever been
dreaded, others were enquiring if the same signs
observed before, without having been followed by evil consequences.
The more cautious took balls of stone or metal, and
suspended them by threads or long hairs from the ceiling of their
rooms, in order to detect the first motion, and save themselves by
immediate flight. Watches were placed on nearly all the houses;
but the silence was unbroken save, from time to time, by a foot-
fall, or the anxious whisperings of human voices. Although the
guards were numerous, still they were insufficient to protect the
property of the inhabitants from plunder. Thieves were lurking
in all directions, hoping to profit by the general consternation.
Asmenes, the priest of Isis, on his return home, discovered
that a great robbery had been committed in his absence. Occu-
pied with the things that were then passing, he had forgotten to
lock up his effects carefully, and behold! he found himself
robbed of his new golden Sistrum, or "Isis-rattle." Complaining
to his goddess, that she did not protect her own property, and
burning with rage, he armed himself with a sharp knife, and ran
down to the vestibule, thinking probably, that a second attempt
would be made on his house. He waited there a long time. The
cheerfulness, wherewith a little company of captive Christians
were wending their way through the Hercules Street, towards
the sea, formed a striking contrast to his fury. The slave mastors,
fearing the worst, wished for greater security to put them
aboard the ships, and send them out to sea when the signs became
sufficiently alarming.
The procession approached an arch, with two torch-bearers in
advance. The captives were entoning one of the beautiful canticles
of their persecuted church, as they passed along. Asmenes
stole behind a pillar, and as the words: " Laudato Dominutn omnes
gentcs, " fell upon his ear, he muttered to himself: " These
are the blasphemers, the robbers, the cannibals, who are bringing
so much misery on Smyrna! Now they approach! Nemesis will
deliver them up to my vengeance: an agreeable sacrifice to the
Shade of Hades!" Seizing his knife, he darted forward, exclaim-
ing "Thieves! give me back my Sistrum my golden Sis-
turn!' and crash! a terrific rumbling like thunder, rolls be-
neath. The earth no longer able to restrain the pent-up element,
bursts asunder at the very feet of the heathen priest He totters
falls, and in an instant finds his grave. The fiery element, just
liberated, rushes with ungovernable fury along the street. An-
other shock: house after house heaves : towers
totter: Castles
are rent asunder, and street after street are heaps of ruins.
But what of the wretched inhabitants? They run to and fro in
wild despair: they call on the gods to help them:" Help! help!
ye gods, or we are lost!" Some, in frantic haste, hurrying to
the shipping; whilst others seek refuge in the mountains, or in
the adjacent fields. The darkness increases the horrors of the
awful scene.
Tin; upper part of the city remained still undisturbed. The
massive edifices and principal temples, had as yet withstood the
fury of the element. Many of the people fled on the wings of
terror to the temples of their gods; particularly to the great sanc-
LTD I A.
tuary of Homer, which was soon densely crowded. The <
tiion reached its height; flight was impossible, on account
innumerable piles of smoking ruins, that everywhon
the steps of the unhappy fugitives. Men, women and chilil
every class, whom terror had deprived of their
seen, here and there lying among their fallen dwellings. The
dead were carried into tho open places by hundreds, still greater
was the number of wounded, bruised, and maimed: and li> art
rending were the agonizing shrieks of those, who were lying half
buried beneath the scorching ruins, unable to afford themselves
the slightest assistance.
The increasing darkness suggested the necessity of seeking tho
aid of torches; and he who was fortunate enough to pick up one,
hoped by its means to find his way out of the city. But the endless
heaps of rubbish, the rising exhalations, and the clouds of
dust, rendered escape impossible. Even where a free passage
was left, the red flickering light of the torches served only to
make the 'darkness visible.' In several parts of the city, tho
fire burst forth again with redoubled fury, and destroyed, with
incredible rapidity, everything within its reach. Some maintained
that it proceeded from the earth, whilst others thought it was
caused by the fires of the forges and of the dwelling houses bur-
ied beneath the ruins. Each one had something terrific to re-
late and many were of opinion that the end of all things was at
hand, and that the world was about to be destroyed by fire.
Suddenly cries were heard from the quarter, where stood the
palace and citadel : a fresh chasm in the earth was issuing forth
another destructive fire.
,
Statius Quadratus hoped to save himself by taking refuge on
the highest terrace of the citadel. . But he hoped in vain ; for
whilst on bended knees, he was imploring the protection of the
gods, a roaring flame issued from the foundations, and forced its
way through the palace till it reached the terrace, where he
was. Terrified at the sight he drew back so far, that lie had no
other choice but to cast himself down from the height, or to
succumb to the devouring fire. "Ten thousand sesterces to him
who helps me! " But the flames had already claimed their victim.
A scream, a faiutmoan, and Statius Quadratus has finished his
wicked career.
Up
to this time, by the fall of the above mentioned masses of
dwellings, no less than the tenth part of the inhabitants lost
their lives. Those who had sought refuge in the Temple of Ho-
mer, were nearly all crushed to death by the falling of the roof
and pillars; but what appeared most strange was, that the
bronze statue of the poet himself, was split from head to foot.
More fortunate was the lot of those, who, like the Christians,
sought in the first instance, to save themselves by sea. The unusual
calmness of the waters formed a striking contrast with the
destruction and devastation which raged on the shore.
Two hours after the tremendous shocks on land, the sea began
to heave and swell at the mouths of the Hermos. Although the
tide was then at the ebb, it rose, with the greatest rapidity, far
above the highest flood-mark. On a sudden, a volcanic force be-
neath, raised the foaming waters mountain high, and bearing the
ri< lily laden vessels on their convulsed bosom, swept them as if
triumphantly across the stone pier and cast them into the city.
Then gainine a height of more than eighty feet, they passed
over the highest buildings still standing, and, in their course,
quenched the volumes of flames, which were issuing from all
parts of the city. As if the sea were charged to complete the
work of desolation, its waters receded slowly, leaving the shat-
tered vessels mingled with the smoking ruins; * and in its return
bore back in thousands, the dead bodies of the inhabitants. In
such horrors the night passed on.
At last, impenetrable darkness, gave place to the morningdawn.
The earth was at rest, and the sea had resumed its
wonted calm. The survivors, although they had lost all, looked
upon themselves as enviable mortals. Strangers embraced
each other, as though they hnd been dear friends meeting after
a long separation. It was a sad mingling of Joy and sorrow.
*Ono h-: -i : ''1 VI-MC! was found in the ceritro of the rained Theatre.