Chapter I (13)

The coins of the Roman period are numerous, but most of them of little value. One here figured is, however, unique; being, I imagine, the only coin known to have been struck in the island. Atius Balbus, whose name and bust appear on the face[97], was grandfather of the Emperor Augustus, and prefect of Sardinia about sixty years before Christ. The reverse represents a head wearing a singular cap, crowned by an ostrich plume; with a sceptre, and the words “Sardus Pater,” who is supposed to be the founder of Nora, the first town built in Sardinia, and of Libyan and Phœnician origin.[98]

The cabinet also contains about 100 coins of the Carthaginian period. Many such are found in the island, but, as may be supposed, not in numbers equal to those which attest the long duration of the Roman power. While Captain Smyth was engaged in his survey of the coast, a farmer in the island of St. Pietro, successively a Greek, Carthaginian, and Roman station, passed his ploughshare over an amphora of Carthaginian brass coins, of which Captain Smyth purchased about 250. “They were,” he states, “with two exceptions, of the usual type: obverse, the head of Ceres; and reverse, a horse or palm-tree, or both.” Some presented to me by Carlo Rugiu, one of which is here figured, have a horse's head on one face, and the palm-tree with fruit, probably dates, on the other.

There are specimens in the British Museum, but not so good as those given me by Signor Rugiu. The coins in the possession of Captain Smyth appear to have represented the horse in full detail, as he mentions the peculiarity of their having a Punic character between the horse's legs, differing in every one. It need hardly be observed how appropriate, on an African coin, were such devices as the date-palm of the desert, and the horse, emblematic of its fiery cavalry.

Some Saracenic coins are also found in the island, with Arabic characters both on the obverse and reverse. The one here represented was also given me by Carlo Rugiu, with some Roman coins, both silver and brass. We do not find that the Saracens ever effected any permanent settlement in Sardinia; which accounts for the comparatively small number of these coins discovered. The Saracen pirates who infested the coast from the time that St. Augustine's relics were rescued, in 722, to so late a period as 1815, were more likely to pillage the money of the inhabitants than to leave any of their own behind them.[99]

The Terracotta collection in the Royal Museum exhibits about one thousand specimens of vases, &c. of Sardo-Phœnician, Carthaginian, Egyptian, and Roman fabric, similar to those preserved in the British Museum. In the natural-history department, the ornithological class is most complete, containing upwards of a thousand specimens of native and foreign birds, collected and prepared by Signor Cara, who has paid much attention to this branch of the science. Among the native objects of interest was the flamingo, frequenting, with other aquatic birds, in vast flocks, the lagunes in the neighbourhood of Cagliari, whither they resort during the autumn and winter, from the coast of Africa. The largest of these lakes, called the Scaffa, is six or seven miles long by three or four broad. Vast quantities of salt are procured from the salterns in the same neighbourhood and other parts of Sardinia, and it forms an important article of export, and of revenue. In conchology and mineralogy, the cabinet is rich both in foreign and native specimens; the minerals having been in great part collected by La Marmora, and arranged by him in 1835.

The Phœnician remains are, in some respects, the most interesting part of the collection. Among them we find a block of sandstone, with a Phœnician inscription, discovered in 1774 at Pula, the ancient Nora, now a pleasant village embowered in orange groves and orchards, and crowned with palms, on the coast of the Gulf, about sixteen miles from Cagliari. Nora, it may be remembered, is stated by Greek writers to have been the first town founded by colonists in the island of Sardinia; and though the inscription on the stone has not been satisfactorily deciphered, it seems to be agreed that it records the arrival of “Sardus,” called “Pater,” at “Nora,” from “Tarshish,” in Libya.

But the Sarde idols, already mentioned, form the unique feature in this collection. La Marmora enumerates 180 of these bronzes, the greater part of which are preserved in the museum at Cagliari, consisting principally of small images, varying from four to seventeen inches high, of irregular and often grotesque forms, and betraying a rude state of art.[100] They are considered miniatures of the large and original idols adored by the Canaanites and Syro-Phœnicians; and from their diminutive size may have been household gods. Mr. Tyndale conjectures that the “Teraphim” of Scripture were of the same class. There appears, however, no doubt that these bronzes, as well as the objects in Terracotta already mentioned, are of native manufacture. Thus, while the images appear to be the symbols of a religion peculiar to the inhabitants of Sardinia at a very early period, they bear a certain affinity to similar objects of worship in other countries, especially in Syria and Egypt; so that in Signor Cara's nomenclature these remains are denominated Sardo-Phœnician and Sardo-Egyptian. It is remarkable, however, that no corresponding relics have been found in those countries.

There is a small collection of Sardinian antiquities in the British Museum, recently supplied by Signor Cara; but it does not contain, as might have been wished, any specimens of these singular images. They are accurately figured and described by La Marmora, and Mr. Tyndale has fully investigated their history and relations in his very valuable work. It would be out of place further to pursue the subject here, especially as we have already devoted a chapter to traces among the Sardes of the rites of Moloch and Adonis, in which two of these images are described. The subject is interesting both as connected with the Phœnician migrations, and as bringing to light symbols of that Canaanitish idolatry so frequently and emphatically denounced in the Sacred Writings.

Returning to modern times, I do not find that I have anything of importance to add to my notices of the present state of Cagliari, except the introduction of the Electric Telegraph connecting it with the continents of Europe and Africa. Prom its having been the medium of communication between England and India during the recent crisis, Cagliari has acquired a notoriety to which it had previously few pretensions. Some account of the establishment of this Telegraph will be given in our concluding chapters.

CHAP. XXXVII.

_Porto-Torres.—Another Italian Refugee.—Embark for Genoa.—West
Coast of Corsica.—Turin.—The Sardinian Electric Telegraph.—The
Wires laid to Cagliari._

The preceding notices of Cagliari were gathered during a visit to Sardinia in the autumn of 1867; the “Rambles” in this island, detailed in preceding chapters, having been rather abruptly terminated, under circumstances already adverted to, without our being able to reach the capital. On that occasion we embarked for the continent at Porto-Torres, the origin and decay of which place is before incidentally mentioned. The neighbourhood abounds in remains of Roman antiquities; and at a short distance is the cathedral of St. Gavino, one of the oldest structures in Sardinia, having been founded in the eleventh century. The roof is covered with lead, and supported by antique columns dug up in the adjacent ruins. There also were found two marble sarcophagi, preserved in the church, on which figures of Apollo surrounded by the Muses are represented in high relief.

Having to embark at an early hour, we were obliged to pass a night at Porto-Torres, notwithstanding its notoriety for a most pestiferous atmosphere, occasioned, as usual, by the exhalations from the marshy lowlands adjoining the coast. The impression was confirmed by the miserable aspect of the place, one long wide vacant street, in which, as we drove down it, the effects of the intemperie were stamped on the sickly faces of the few stragglers we met. We found, however, a roomy and decent hotel, and, after rambling about the neighbourhood, sat down to our usual evening tasks of writing and drawing. We were in light costume, and had thrown open the casements, for though the apartment was both lofty and spacious, the air felt insufferably close and stifling. Shortly afterwards, on the waiter coming in to lay the supper table, he stood aghast at our exposure to the night air, and precipitately dosed the casements, exclaiming, “Signore, it would have been death for you to have slept here in August or September; and, even now, the risk you are running is not slight.”

This man was another of the Italian refugees, a Lombard; but of a very superior cast of character and intelligence to our _maître de cuisine_ at Sassari. These qualities first opened out on his begging permission to examine my friend's drawings and some ancient coins which lay on the table; on both which he made remarks, showing that he was a person of education and taste. He had been an _avocat_ at Milan, and, compromised by the insurrection, “You see,” said he, “what I have been driven to,” throwing a napkin, over his shoulder with somewhat of a theatrical air. “But a good time is coming; meanwhile, not having much to do here, I employ my time as well as I can. You shall see my little library;”—and he brought in some volumes, mostly classical, the Odyssey, Euripides, Sophocles, Æschylus, and Cornelius Nepos. After awhile he pulled out of his bosom, with some mystery, for he was still professedly a catholic, a small copy of Diodati's Italian version of the New Testament. “This,” he said, with emphasis, “is my greatest consolation; I retire into the fields, and there I read it.” It was impossible not to commiserate the fate of Ignazio Mugio, the Lombard refugee. A very different character was old Pietro, the steam-boat agent. Groping our way with some difficulty up a gloomy staircase, in the dusk of the evening, we found him, spectacles on nose, poring over a gazette by a feeble oil lamp. The old man was so eager for news that it was difficult to fix him to the object of our inquiries; and then he expatiated on the attractions of the neighbourhood, and the “chasse magnifique de grèves,” as he called thrush-shooting, in the country round, if we came to Porto-Torres in the month of December. We laughed at the idea of such sport; but I think it is said that the thrushes, fattening on the olive berries, are very delicious.

A considerable commerce, considerable for a Sardinian port, gives some life to this desolate place; facilitated by Porto-Torres being the northern terminus of the great national road running through Sassari, only nine miles distant. The principal exports are oil and wine. The little haven is defended by a strong tower, erected in 1549. We found moored in the port several Greek brigs, polaccas, and feluccas, with their long yards and pointed lateen sails; and the fine steam-boat which was to carry us to Genoa.

The mountainous and nearly desert island of Asinara forms a fine object in running out of the gulf to which it gives its name, forming the north-western point; and the high lands of Corsica soon came once more in view. Our course lay along its western coast, the weather being favourable; but with a foul wind it is considered unsafe, and vessels run through the Straits of Bonifacio and coast the eastern side of the island. In the afternoon we were off the entrance of the Gulf of Ajaccio, and gazed from seaward on the Isles Sanguinaires, with the tower of the lighthouse, behind which the sun set on the pleasant evening when we took our view from the Chapel of the Greeks. Now, towards sunset, we were rapidly gliding along the shore of Isola Rossa, and the slanting rays glowing directly on the porphyritic cliffs gave a rich but mellow intensity to the ruddy hue whence they derive their name. Some of the boats stop at the town, a new erection by Pascal Paoli, and the seat of an increasing trade. Leaving it behind, we ran along the coast of Corsica with a fair wind, exultingly bounding homewards as, the breeze freshening, our boat sprung from wave to wave, dashing the spray from her bows. Farewell to Corsica! Her grey peaks and shaggy hill-sides are fast fading from our sight, in the growing obscurity. We pass Calvi, famous in Mediæval and Nelsonian annals, San Fiorenzo, on which we had looked down in our rambles on the chestnut-clad ridges of the Nebbio; and the mountain masses of the Capo-Corso, now loom like dark clouds on the eastern horizon. All beyond is a blank. Again we cross the Tuscan Sea in the depth of the night. We are on deck when rosy morning opens to our view the glories of the Bay of Genoa. At six we are moored in the harbour, and have to wait for the visit of the officer of health. At last we land, breakfast, and take the rail to Turin.

At Turin we passed some hours very pleasantly at the British Minister's. We are indebted to Sir James Hudson for facilitating our excursion in Sardinia with more than official zeal and interest in its success. He knows the island well, having braved the inconveniences of rough travelling in its wildest districts. At his hotel we chanced to meet Mr. I. W. Brett, the promoter of a line of electric telegraph intended to connect the islands of Corsica and Sardinia with the European and African continents. A company had been formed to carry out this project, consisting principally of Italian shareholders, part of whose outlay was to be recouped, on the completion of the undertaking, by the Governments interested in its success—the French in regard to Corsica and Algeria, and the Piedmontese as far as concerns Sardinia.

Starting from a point in the Gulf of Spezzia, the wires were to be carried by a submarine cable to the northern extremity of Capo-Corso; where landing they would be conveyed, through the island, partly by submarine channels, with a branch to Ajaccio, to its southern point near Bonifacio. Thence, submerged in a cable crossing the Straits, they would again touch the land at Capo Falcone, mentioned in these rambles as the nearest point in Sardinia; the distance being only about ten nautical miles. The wires were then to be conducted on posts, through the island of Sardinia, in a line, varying but slightly from our route, by Tempio and Sassari to Cagliari. From Cape Spartivento, or some point on the southern shore of Sardinia, a submarine cable was to be laid, the most arduous part of the whole undertaking, to the African coast; landing somewhere near Bona, a town on the western frontier of the French possessions in Algeria.

Up to the point of the landing in Sardinia all was evidently plain sailing; but when we met Mr. Brett at Turin, on our return from Sardinia, in November, 1853, he was under some anxiety about the land line through the island; the mountainous character of the northern province of Gallura presenting obstacles to the operation of carrying the wires through it, and the lawless character of the inhabitants threatening their safety. On both these points we were able to reassure him; we had seen and heard enough of the brave mountaineers to feel convinced that there was no cause for apprehension of outrages connected with the undertaking. And my fellow-traveller, who belonged to the scientific branch of the army, had not passed through the country without making such observations as enabled him to satisfy Mr. Brett's inquiries respecting the line to be selected and its natural facilities.

In the end, the wires were successfully stretched throughout the island from Capo Falcone to Cagliari, after surmounting, however, serious obstacles, though not of the sort previously apprehended. For the success of this operation the company are greatly indebted to the exertions of Mr. William S. Craig, H.B.M.'s Consul-General in Sardinia. Having neither any personal interest in the concern, nor official connection with a Company entirely foreign in its object and supporters, he devoted his time gratuitously to the furtherance of this branch of its operations, actuated only by a desire to promote an important public undertaking. The whole practical management of the work (I do not speak of engineering, little of which could be required) devolved on Mr. Craig; and with much self-sacrifice, he threw into it all that zeal and intelligence which, with universal goodwill, have acquired for him the high estimation in which he is generally held.

I have before had occasion to mention the respect entertained for him by the mountaineers of Gallura, resulting from a former connection beneficial to parts of that district; and I feel convinced that his name and sanction better obviated any prejudices, and offered a broader shield for the protection of the wires from injury, than all the power of the Piedmontese officials, backed by squadrons of carabineers, could have done. Not only so, but Mr. Craig had less difficulty in making arrangements with the proprietors of the lands in the northern province than in the more civilised districts of the south, where, in some instances, the privileges required were reluctantly conceded as a mark of personal respect.

It was on descending to the plains that the worst difficulties were encountered. Mr. Warre Tyndale states that during the construction of the great central road from Cagliari to Porto-Torres, which it took seven years to complete, more than half the engineers employed in the work died of the intemperie, or were obliged to retire from the effects of that fatal malady. This scourge swept off with no less virulence the workmen employed on the line of telegraph, and as the season advanced, cartloads after cartloads were carried to the hospitals, so that the works were stopped. Mr. Craig had to provide for all emergencies, the whole expenditure was managed by him, and this calamity added to his cares and responsibilities. But he persevered, and brought the operations to a successful end. Such valuable services merited a more liberal treatment than they received at the hands of those who gratuitously secured them. A body of English directors and shareholders would not have failed to mark their sense of the obligation conferred by some honorary acknowledgment. I have not heard of any such act of generosity on the part of the Sardo-French Company. It was a foreigner who remarked to me the _petitesses_ which pervaded the dealings of his countrymen. I imagine that the phrase would be found particularly applicable to the dealings of this company, if all its history were known.

But we are anticipating occurrences. On our return from Sardinia, the operations of the Sardo-French Telegraph Company connected with the island were yet in embryo. The travellers who discussed the probabilities of success at Turin little thought that one of them would two years afterwards, towards the close of the Crimean war, be the Chief of the Staff employed in the organisation and superintendence of the military telegraph service in the East, having to inspect the laying down many hundred miles of submarine cable and wires in the Black Sea; or that it would be the fortune of the other to witness the final accomplishment of the long-delayed and frustrated hopes of the Sardo-French Company, by being present at the laying down of the submarine Mediterranean cable between Cagliari and Bona on the coast of Algeria. But so it turned out; and the completion of this undertaking being an event in Sardinian history, considered by no less an authority than General Della Marmora to have an important bearing on the commercial prospects of the island,—and the operation of successfully submerging telegraph cables in very deep water, in oceans or seas, being both new and possessing considerable interest,—a short account by an eyewitness of the occurrences attending the laying down the African cable may prove both amusing and instructive. It will form an appropriate episode to the Sardinian Rambles, and in that view an additional chapter will be devoted to it.

For the rest, it only remains briefly to close the “Rambles” of 1853. Our visit at Turin reopened Sardinian interests; but after that, the best thing to be done was to hasten homewards before the inclemency of the season should retard our progress. Still, the snow fell heavily as we walked over the summit of the pass of the Mont-Cenis, preceding the diligence in which we had travelled all night. The railway had not then been extended from Turin to Suza on one side of the Alps, nor, on the other, beyond Châlons sur Saône, between Lyons and Paris; so that, travelling by diligence, we were three nights and two days on the road to Paris. Both the French and Italian lines of railway have been much advanced since the period of our journey. To complete the line, it remains only that the gigantic undertaking of tunnelling the chain of the Alps be successfully executed. Allowing ourselves the refreshment of spending a day in Paris, we reached London in the evening of the 17th of November.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

_Sardinian Electric Telegraph.—The Land Line completed.—Failures
in Attempts to lay a Submarine Cable to Algeria.—The Work
resumed.—A Trip to Bona on the African Coast.—The Cable
laid.—Cagliari an Important Telegraph Station.—Its
Commerce.—The return Voyage.—CONCLUSION._

After completing the land line of telegraph, as already mentioned, the Sardinian Company[101] failed in three attempts at laying a submarine cable to connect the wires from Cagliari with the coast of Algeria. We will not here enter into an inquiry as to the causes of these disasters, instructive as it might be if we had space, and this were a fitting opportunity. Suffice it to say that the first experiment failed soon after leaving Cape Spartivento; on the second, the line was laid for about two-thirds of the course, but with such a profuse expenditure of the submarine cable that it was run out, and the enterprise abruptly terminated. A third attempt to renew the operation proved equally unsuccessful.

The project received a severe check from these repeated failures. The company had established their line, by sea and land, as far as Cagliari. So far, well: the communications of the respective Governments with their islands of Corsica and Sardinia were complete. Incidentally, also, England derived some advantage from the stations at Cagliari during the most anxious period of the crisis in Indian affairs. It was one step in advance towards telegraphic communications with India, though a short one. But the main object of the French Government in promoting the enterprise was to link its connection with Algeria by the electric wires; and till that was accomplished, the Company had no claim to be reimbursed for that portion of their expenditure guaranteed in the event of success.

One may imagine the dismay of the shareholders, mostly Italians, in this state of affairs. Their capital must have been greatly, if not altogether, exhausted by the expenditure on previous works and the abortive attempts at laying the African cable. It was now only, in all probability, that they became seriously alive to the difficulties of the undertaking, and the immense risks that must be incurred in laying submarine cables in great depths of water. For it was now known that the depth of the Mediterranean in many parts crossed by the track of submarine cables, is no less than that through which the Transatlantic cable has to be laid.

The prosecution of the scheme was suspended; but meanwhile time was running on, and the period fixed for completing the line had nearly expired. In this event, the government guarantee being forfeited, the concern would become a ruinous affair, as the telegraph traffic of two small islands could not be remunerative for the capital expended in connecting them with the continent. A short extension of the term for completing the undertaking had been obtained; but that was nearly run out before matters were put in a better train.

In this emergency, Mr. Brett, the _gérant_ of the foreign company, who had contracted for and personally superintended the previous attempts to lay the African cable, entered into negotiations for its being undertaken by Messrs. Newall and Co. They had an established reputation, not only as having long been manufacturers of submarine electric cables, the quality of which had been tested by continuous service, but as having, under contracts with the English Government, laid down between five and six hundred miles of cable in the Black Sea during the Crimean war, without a single mishap. They were, therefore, not mere theorists; having acquired by long experience a practical knowledge of submarine telegraphy which had not fallen to the lot of any others who had turned their attention to that branch of the science.

The overtures made on the part of the Sardo-French Company having been favourably received in the course, I believe, of the summer of 1857, Messrs. Newall and Co., nothing daunted by the previous failures, though doubtless fully aware of the difficulties they had to encounter, agreed to lay the African cable for a given sum, taking all risks on themselves. When it is understood that, about the same time, they also contracted with the “Mediterranean Extension Company,” on like terms as to responsibility, to lay down submarine cables between Cagliari and Malta, and from Malta to Corfu, extending over 795 nautical miles, and making, with the African cable, a total of 920 miles, some idea may be formed of the magnitude of the operations undertaken by a single firm. The mileage is more than one third of the distance embraced in the scheme of the great Transatlantic Company; and, as we find that the Mediterranean has its deep hollows as well as the Atlantic, the difficulties were proportionate.

Having entered into these engagements, Messrs. Newall and Co., after completing their contract for one half, 1250 miles, of the Transatlantic cable, lost no time in proceeding with the manufacture of the Mediterranean cables at their works in Birkenhead. Towards the end of August, the African cable, with some portion of the Malta cable, was shipped in the Mersey aboard their steamship Elba, the vessel before employed in laying down the cable between Varna and Constantinople. It should be mentioned that the African cable contained four wires, so that it was more ponderous and less flexible than the Atlantic cable, which has only one.

About this time, the writer happened to hear what was going on. Being then engaged in preparing these Sardinian “Rambles” for the press, he was desirous to make another trip to the island before their publication; and, besides the connection of the Cagliari line of telegraphs with the objects of his work, other circumstances had made him generally interested in the subject of submarine telegraphy. He therefore requested Mr. R.S. Newall's permission for his joining the expedition, which was kindly granted.

With this preliminary statement, we proceed at once to the scene of action. At the last moment it had been decided, for reasons with which I am unacquainted, but, I believe, on the suggestion of the foreign Governments interested in the project, to start from the African coast, instead of from Cagliari; Cape de Garde, a few miles eastward of Bona, a town on the Tunisian frontier of the French possessions in Algeria, being selected as the point at or near which the submarine cable was to be submerged. The Elba, with the cable on board, anchored off Bona on Saturday, the 5th of September. Three war-steamships, appointed by the foreign Governments to attend and assist in the operations, had arrived some days before, and lay at anchor in the haven of Cazerain. The little squadron consisted of the Brandon, a large frigate under the French flag, with the Monzambano and the Ichnusa, both belonging to the royal Sardinian navy; and on board were the Commissioners appointed by the respective Governments to watch the operations.

It blew hard after the Elba's arrival, and the ships being detained in harbour, waiting for a favourable wind, opportunities offered of landing at Bona, and making some excursions into the surrounding country. The old Arab town rises from the sea in the form of an amphitheatre, and you see its high embattled walls running up the hill-side and embracing in its enceinte the citadel, or Casbah, crowning the heights; the whole backed by the towering summits and shaggy slopes of the chain of Mount Edough. Within is a labyrinth of narrow streets; that leading direct from the port crossing a steep ridge to the Place d'Armes, a square with a fountain in the centre, overhung with palms and other exotics, and where French architecture is singularly mixed with the Moorish style. On one side stands a mosque, with its tall minaret; on the other, range cafés and restaurants, and magazins de mode, with their lofty fronts, arcades, and balconies. We linger for a moment on the spectacle offered by the various populations which crowd the square from morn to eve, and most after nightfall; a motley crowd of Arabs, Moors, Zouaves, Chasseurs, Jews, and Maltese. In the picturesque contrast of costume it presents, the gayest French uniforms possess no attractions compared with the white and flowing bournous, with even the sheepskin mantle of the poor Arab of the desert, the bright braided caftan of the Moor, the turban, and the fez. But the limits assigned to this work being already exceeded, I may not allow myself to dwell on the numberless objects which attract the attention of a curious traveller, in scenes where the modes and forms of Oriental life are singularly blended with those that bear the freshest European stamp.

Nor is this the place for more than noting an excursion to the picturesque ruins of Hippona, the old Roman city, the Hippo-Regius, where the great St. Augustine laboured in the African episcopate, and ended his days during the sufferings of Genseric's siege. They stand on a hillock facing the sea, now covered with thickets of wild olive trees and fragments of the buildings. What a plain is that you see from the summit, stretching away in all directions, a vast expanse of grassy meadows on the banks of the river Seybouse; parched indeed now by the torrid heat of an African summer, but of rich verdure after the rains! What prodigious ricks of hay we observe at the French cavalry barracks, as we ride along! What growth of vegetables in the irrigated gardens of the industrious, but turbulent, Maltese! Surely, but for the French inaptitude to colonisation, this part of Algeria, at least, might be turned to good account.

Changing the scene for a moment from the sultry plains, we may just note another excursion, which led to the summit of the pass crossing the chain of Mount Edough. At the top we look westward over a sea of mountains, towards and beyond Constantine, the strongholds of the indomitable Kabyles. Turning homewards, we slowly descend the winding road, among slopes covered with a coarser _maquis_—still more fitted to endure the drought—than the evergreen thickets of Corsica and Sardinia; the dwarf palm, _chamærops humilis_, most prevailing. Bona, with its walls and terraces and the Casbah and the minarets, rising above a grove of orchards and gardens, now makes a pleasing picture. Beyond, in the still water of the haven, our little fleet lies at anchor, with the French guardship; outside, the blue Mediterranean is now very gently rippled by the evening breeze.

We are recalled to the ships, and hasten on board, for the wind having changed, with a promise of fair weather, it is decided to commence operations. The point selected for landing the shore-end of the cable was a sandy cove, a little to the eastward of Cape de Garde, or as it is otherwise called Cap Rouge, a literal translation of _Ras-el-Hamrah_, the name given it by the natives. There is an easy ascent from the cove to Fort Génois, about half a mile distant. The fort, a white square building at the edge of the cliffs, said to have been built by the Genoese to protect their coral fisheries on this coast, was convenient for establishing a temporary telegraph station, wires being run up to it from the end of the submarine cable.

It was a lovely morning, the sun bright in a cloudless sky and the blue Mediterranean calm as a lake, when the little squadron having got up steam, ran along the shore, and successively anchored in the cove. There floated, in happy union, the flags of the three allied Powers recently engaged in very different operations: and the ships, with their boats passing and repassing, formed a lively scene contrasted with that desert shore, on the rocks of which a solitary Arab stood watching proceedings so strange to him.

The Elba's stern having been brought round to the land, the ship was moored within cable's length of the sandy beach; but the operation of landing the submarine cable was delayed in consequence of the neglect of the Sardinian company's agents, whose duty it was to have the land-line of telegraph wires ready to communicate with Port Génois. This occupied the whole day, and I took advantage of it, landing in one of the first boats, to make a long ramble, visiting, in the course of it, Fort Génois, an encampment of Arabs at some distance in the interior, and climbing to the lighthouse on Cape de Garde, commanding, as may be imagined, magnificent views. It was a toilsome march, over rocks and sands, and through prickly thickets, in the full blaze of an African sun at noontide; but the excursion was full of interest, and not without its trifling adventures.

The shore works were not completed till sunset, when, all the boats being recalled to the ships, they got under weigh, the Monzambano towing the Elba, with the Ichnusa ahead, and the Brandon on her larboard bow. The engineers began paying out the cable at eight o'clock, proceeding at first slowly, as the night was dark, and being desirous to try cautiously the working of the machinery. As the water deepened, the cable ran out fast, and the speed was increased, so that by midnight we had run about seventeen miles, with a loss in slack, it was reckoned up to that time, of under twenty per cent, of cable, compared with the distance run.

Few, I imagine, aboard the Elba got much sleep that night. The very idea of sleep was precluded by the incessant roar of the cable, rushing, like a mighty cataract, through the iron channels confining its course over the deck, while the measured strokes of the steam-engine beat time to the roar. Having laid down for two hours, I gave up my cabin to one of our numerous guests; for the French and Italian commissioners being now on board the Elba, besides Mr. Werner Siemens and his staff of German telegraphists, her accommodations were fully tried; and as for languages, she was a floating Babel. Coming on deck at twelve o'clock, the lighthouse on Cape de Garde was still visible. The attendant ships carried bright lanterns at their mastheads, sometimes throwing up signal rockets; and so the convoy swept steadily on through the darkness, the Elba still following in the wake of the Monzambano. Mr. Newall and Mr. C. Liddell, who directed the whole operations, never quitted their post at the break. The telegraphists, from their station amidship, tested the insulation from time to time, speaking to the station at Port Génois. Looking down into the mainhold, which was well lighted up, you saw the men cutting the lashings to release the cable, as, gradually unfolding its serpentine coils from the cone in the centre, it was dragged rapidly upwards by the strain of its vast weight, and rushed through the rings to the vessel's stern. There the speed was moderated, before it plunged from the taffrail into the depths beneath, by the slow revolutions of a large wheel, round which the cable took several turns.

As day broke and the sun rose magnificently over the Mediterranean, Galita Island came in sight, distant from thirty to forty miles to the eastward; the high lands of Africa being still visible. With the sea perfectly calm, all augured well for the success of the enterprise, except that serious apprehensions were entertained lest the cable, paying out so fast in the great depth of water we were now crossing,—1500 fathoms,—might not hold out to reach the land. Thus we ran on all the morning, the vessel's speed being increased to between five and six knots per hour, and the strain on the cable to five tons per mile; the depth ranging from 1500 to 1700 fathoms.

Towards the afternoon the land of Sardinia was in sight between fifty and sixty miles ahead, our course being steered towards Cape Teulada, the extreme southern point of the island. By sunset we had reached within twelve miles of the shore, and angles having been carefully taken to fix our exact position, we anchored in eighty fathoms water. Soon afterwards the attendant ships closed in, and anchored near us for the night. The little squadron, well lighted, formed a cheerful group, the sea was smooth as a mill-pond, and the mountains of Sardinia, after reflecting the last rays of the setting sun, loomed heavily in the growing twilight. All hands on board the Elba were glad of rest after thirty-six hours of incessant toil.

In the morning, as we had run out the whole of our cable proper, a piece of the Malta cable was spliced on, with some smaller coils also on board. Meanwhile, the Ichnusa had gone ahead at daybreak to take soundings, and when all was ready we began paying out the cable, being then, as already stated, about twelve miles from the land. All went on smoothly, and there was scarcely any loss of cable by slack. The eye turned naturally, again and again, from anxiously counting the lessening coils in the hold to measure our decreasing distance from the shore, as its hold features and indentations became hourly more distinct. Cape Teulada stood right ahead, a bold headland, with peaked summits 900 feet high. It forms the eastern point of the Gulf of Palmas, and has a long face of precipitous cliffs towards the sea. To the west of this deep inlet appeared the rocky islands of San Antioco and San Pietro, with cliffs of volcanic formation; and the Toro rock stood out a bold insulated object, 500 or 600 feet high, marking the entrance of the Gulf of Palmas, a spacious bay offering excellent anchorage.

We had run ten miles towards a beach under the cliffs, a little to the eastward of Cape Teulada, when the small cable, now in course of being paid out, suddenly parted. The mishap occurred about a mile and a half from the shore, in forty fathoms water, with a sandy bottom. It was provoking enough to have our expectations baulked, when holding on for another half hour we should have succeeded in bringing the cable to land; but, for our comfort, the main difficulties of the enterprise were overcome. The African cable had been securely laid in the greatest depths of the Mediterranean, and the shore-end of the line could be easily recovered in the shallow water. The only question was, whether it should be immediately effected; but for this the weather had become very unfavourable. The wind had been blowing strong from the south-east all the morning; and a gust of it caught the Elba's stern, and canted it suddenly round, when the small cable snapped like a packthread. Rather a heavy sea was now running, and, on the whole, it was thought advisable to defer the concluding operations until an entirely new end to the cable could be procured from England.

For this purpose, and at the same time to bring out the Malta cable, the Elba was despatched homeward a few hours after the accident happened. Fresh angles having been carefully secured, nothing remained but to take leave of our friends before the squadron parted,—the Brandon for the Levant, and the Sardinian frigates for ports in the island. While all belonging to the Elba considered that the submersion of a cable between Algeria and the coast of Sardinia was virtually a _fait accompli_, it was almost painful to witness the dismay of the Italians, at the mishap which had occurred to cloud their anticipations. It was evident that they entirely distrusted all assurances of the contractors' ability to recover the end of the cable, and perfect the line. Their fears were groundless; within a few weeks the new coil was brought from England, and the end of the submerged cable having been grappled at the first haul, the work was completed without any difficulty. Messrs. Newall and Liddell immediately proceeded to lay down the Cagliari and Malta, and the Malta and Corfu cable, 375 and 420 miles respectively; both which they effected with entire success in the months of November and December following, with a very small average waste of cable over the distance, and in depths equally great with those in which the African line was laid.

My own object now being to reach Cagliari, the commander of the Monzambano was kind enough to give me a passage in his fine frigate. I got on board just as the officers and their guests were sitting down to dinner under an awning on the deck. Among them was the old General Della Marmora, whose love of science and devotion to the interests of Sardinia had induced him, though suffering from bad health, to make the voyage for the purpose of witnessing the important experiment. I found that he did not share in the apprehensions of the Italian shareholders on board as to the loss of the cable. The General had long cherished the idea that the ports of Sardinia, and especially Cagliari, are destined to partake largely of the commercial advantages resulting from a variety of recent events. In a little work, already referred to, which he was kind enough to give me[102], he points out the fine position of Cagliari, its spacious gulf, with good anchorage, open to the south, and in the highway of all ships navigating the Mediterranean between the Straits of Gibraltar, the Levant, and the Black Sea. A glance at the map, he truly observes, will show no other port, either on the coast of northern Africa, in Sicily, or the south of Italy, which can be its rival. Malta alone competes with it both in position and as a harbour; but he justly asks,—“Can a barren rock like Malta be compared, in a commercial point of view, with an island of such extent, and possessing so many natural resources, as Sardinia?”

The General also points out the advantages offered by the electric telegraph station at Cagliari to masters of ships bound to the Mediterranean, the Levant, and the Black Sea, from the ports of Northern Europe, or, _vice versâ_, to those coming from the eastward, to induce them to touch at Cagliari. After, perhaps, long and wearisome voyages, they will find, he observes, in their very track, in the heart of the Mediterranean, the means of correspondence, in a few hours, with their families and their owners, receiving news and instructions from home. These facilities he considers of inestimable value; and it strikes us that the area included in the General's observations will be much extended when the electric wires are carried across the Atlantic, and that American ships are more likely to avail themselves of the advantages offered than those of any other nation.

Without sharing the sanguine anticipations of the excellent General La Marmora as to the speedy regeneration of Sardinia, and the development of her natural resources, undoubtedly great as they are, the remark may be allowed, that it would be a singular and happy event if this island, which appears to have been one of the first, if not the first, station of the earliest maritime people, in their advance towards Western Europe, should, now that the tide of civilisation, so long flowing from the East, has evidently taken a reflex course, become again that centre of commercial intercourse for which its geographical position so well fits it.

Towards evening, the Monzambano was running along the iron-bound coast terminating with Cape Spartivento, the western headland of the Gulf of Cagliari. I know not whether it was from the position of the ruins, or the hazy state of the atmosphere, night coming on, that I failed to make out some Cyclopean vestiges mentioned by Captain Smyth—Mr. Tyndale says they are a large Nuraghe—as standing on one of the most remarkable summits, at an elevation of upwards of 1000 feet, and called by the peasants, “The Giants' Tower.” “This structure,” observes Captain Smyth, “situated amongst bare cliffs, wild ravines, and desolate grounds, appeared a ruin of art amidst a ruin of nature, and imparted to the scene inexpressible grandeur.” During our passage we had a stormy sky and a strong head-wind, the sun setting gorgeously among masses of purple and orange clouds. There was nothing to relieve the barren aspect of this desert coast but the grey watch-towers from point to point, similar to those we saw on the coasts of Corsica; and, having paced for an hour the frigate's long flush deck, I was glad to turn-in early, and enjoy the comforts of a state cabin after the fatigues and watches of the two preceding days and nights.

The contrary wind retarded our progress, and it was not till after daylight that, approaching the harbour of Cagliari, I enjoyed the fine view, described in a former chapter, of the city, stretching a long line of suburbs at the base of the heights crowned by the Casteddu, with its towers and domes. The frigate entering the port was moored alongside the government wharf; from which may be inferred the depth of water, and the class of vessels the port is capable of receiving. It now contained only about twenty ships, one only of which, a brig, was under the English flag. The rest were of small burthen, and mostly Genoese and French. General La Marmora states, in the Memoir before quoted, that “since the crosses of Savoy and of Genoa have been united in the same flag,” the Genoese have turned much attention to the trade of Sardinia; and that a company was forming for the improvement of the port of Cagliari, in order to draw to it some part of the corn trade of the Black Sea. Thus the ancient granary of Rome might become the emporium of the trade in corn for Italy and Southern France, and even for Africa; the General observing, with what reason there may be some doubt, that, while only two voyages can be made between the ports of those countries and the Black Sea, three, or even four such, could be accomplished from Cagliari.

It is to be regretted that I did not obtain the latest statistics of the commerce of Sardinia, and the port of Cagliari in particular, from our very intelligent Consul, Mr. Craig; recollecting only his having mentioned that coal is the principal import from England;—France and Genoa, I conclude, supplying manufactured articles and colonial produce. Salt, he said, was the chief export, great part of it being shipped to Newfoundland and Labrador.

I cannot mention Mr. Craig, for the last time in these pages, without an acknowledgment of the many kind offices for which I am indebted to him during the present and preceding visits to Sardinia, nor can I easily forget the pleasure enjoyed in his amiable family circle. Hours so spent in a foreign country have a double charm; for in such agreeable society the traveller breathes the atmosphere, and is restored to the habits, of his cherished home. I have no reason to think that Mr. Craig's long and valuable services are not duly appreciated by his Government; but it might be wished that, in any re-arrangement of the consular service, they be taken into consideration. It is a sort of honourable exile for a man to spend sixteen years of his life on a foreign service, with a family growing up, who enjoy very rare opportunities of conversing with any of their own countrymen, and still less of their countrywomen, in their mother tongue. I take some liberty in venturing to offer these wholly unauthorized remarks on a subject of some delicacy; and only wish I could flatter myself they have any chance of reaching influential quarters, and not being forgotten. Mr. Craig's position, respected and esteemed as he long has been, is eligible in many respects; but it might perhaps be improved.

At the Consul-General's I again met some of the officers of the Ichnusa, to whom, as well as to Boyl commanding the Monzambano, I wish to offer my acknowledgments for many civilities. Lieutenant Baudini, of the Ichnusa and other Sardinian officers who understand English, may chance to peruse this page, and will interpret my sentiments to their brother officers. Commandant Boyl was kind enough to give me a passage to Genoa, being under orders for that port. We had a pleasant run, the style of living on board the Monzambano being excellent, the society agreeable, and enjoying magnificent weather. I have before observed that the officers of the Sardinian navy are intelligent and gentlemanly, and appear to be well up to their profession. The crews are smart, and every thing aboard the ship was in the highest order and conducted with perfect discipline.

Steaming close in-shore along the eastern coast of Sardinia, remarkable principally for its bold and sterile character, there was a striking contrast in the appearance of the same coast of Corsica, which came in sight after crossing the mouth of the Straits of Bonifacio. This was comparatively verdant, not only as regards the fertile plains of the _littorale_, described in an early chapter, but, even where the mountain ranges approached the Mediterranean south of these extensive plains, the sterile aspect of their towering summits and precipitous cliffs was often relieved by immense forests encircling their bases, while every hillside and slope to the valleys appeared densely clothed with the evergreen _macchia_, for which Corsica is so remarkable.

Part of this coast was already well known to the homeward bound traveller: again he caught sight of the bold outlines of Elba and Monte Cristo, rising out of the Tuscan sea; again, as on the first evening of these rambles, the white terraces of Bastia reflected the rays of the setting sun. Soon afterwards the mountain ranges of Capo-Corso were veiled in darkness, and, as we ran along the shore nothing was visible but the twinkling lights of the fishermen's huts in the little _marinas_, to bring to mind those features which had so fascinated us on our first approach to the island.

Again, farewell to Corsica! Farewell to the twin islands which, like emeralds set in an enamelled vase, deck the centre of the great Mediterranean bason, embraced by the coasts of Italy, France, and Spain,—radiant points midway to Africa, in the great highway to the East, and partaking the varied character of all these climes. It had been my fortune not only to ramble through these islands from north to south, but, in different voyages, to sail round the entire coasts of both, except some part of the west of Sardinia. I can only wish that these pages more adequately represented the impressions made under the opportunities thus enjoyed.

It was again my fortune to approach the lovely bay of Genoa with the earliest morning light; and, taking leave of my good friends on board the Monzambano, I landed before breakfast. To vary the route homeward, instead of crossing the Mont-Cenis, as had been done in frost and snow at a late season of the year in the former tour, I enjoyed the enviable contrast of journeying along the _Riviera di Ponente_ from Genoa to Nice,—that exquisite strip of country between the Apennines and the Mediterranean, studded with orchards, orange groves, vineyards, and gardens; with towns, towers, churches, and convents, nestled in the groves, washed by the sea, or perched high on rocky pinnacles; and all this encircling the lovely Bay of Genoa, the road being carried _en corniche_ along its winding shores and round its jutting points. Of this exquisite scenery no description of mine could convey any adequate idea to those who have not seen it, and those who have will need little memento to bring its varied features to their recollection.

Farewell, a long farewell to, perhaps, the loveliest strip of country in the bright South! The Neapolitan proverb may be applied with equal justice to the Ligurian, as to the fair Campanian, coast,—_vedere e pói morire_,—a fitting motto wherewith to conclude the tale of an old man's wanderings.

Pursuing the journey from Nice to Marseilles, in heat and in dust, the express train, by Lyons and Paris, conveyed the Rambler to Calais in about thirty hours, and six more landed him in London.

THE END

LONDON:
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FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Dei Costumi dell'Isola di Sardegna, comparate cogli antichissimi Popoli Orientali, par Antonio Bresciani. D.C.D.G. Napoli, 1850._

[2] Πολλῶν δ' ἀνθροπῶν ἲδεν ἂσεα—καὶ νὰον ἐγνῶ. Od. i. 3.

[3] _Lamartine_. See THE ISLAND EMPIRE, dedicated to Lord Holland. Bosworth, 1855.