of that part of the coast which faces Africa, there were only open
roadsteads and beaches. On the Ionian coast, however, two excellent
harbours are met with, viz. those of Agosta and Syracuse, which are
very much like each other in outline and general features. Agosta,
or Augusta, the successor of the Greek city of Megara Hyblæa, is now
nothing more than a fortress besieged by fever. Syracuse, the ancient
city of the Dorians, and at one time the most populous and wealthy city
of the Mediterranean, has been reduced to a simple provincial capital.
That city, whose inhabitants even during the last century celebrated
their great victory over the Athenians, is now hardly more than a
heap of ruins. Its “marble port,” formerly surrounded by statues,
is now frequented only by small boats, and its great harbour, large
enough for contending squadrons, lies deserted. All that remains of
it is contained in the small island of Ortygia, {328} separated from
the mainland by fortifications, a ditch, and the swamps of Syraca.
The vast peninsula of limestone formerly occupied by the city is at
present inhabited only by a few farmers, whose houses stand near the
canals of irrigation. The grand edifices erected by the inhabitants
of ancient Syracuse are now represented by the ruins of columns on
the banks of the Anapo rising from the “azure” fountain of Cyane; by
the fortifications of the Epipolæ and Euryelum erected by Archimedes,
and now known as Belvedere; by the remains of baths, an enormous
altar large enough for hecatombs of sacrifices, an amphitheatre, and
an admirable theatre for 25,000 spectators, who were able to see at
a glance from their {329} seats the whole of the ancient city, with
its temples and fleets of merchantmen. Nothing, however, is better
calculated to convey an idea of the ancient grandeur of the city than
the vast quarries or _lautumiæ_ and the subterranean catacombs, more
extensive than those of Naples, and not yet wholly explored. In former
times the summit of the island of Ortygia was occupied by an acropolis,
in which stood a temple of Minerva, a rival of the Parthenon of Athens.
Sailors, on leaving the port, were bound to look towards this temple,
holding in their hands a vase of burning charcoal taken from the altar
of Juno, which they flung into the sea when they lost sight of it.
Portions of the temple still exist, but its beautiful columns have been
covered with plaster and incorporated in an ugly church.
[Illustration: Fig. 121.—TEMPLE OF CONCORD AT GIRGENTI.]
There are other Hellenic ruins in Sicily, which, in the eyes of
artists, make that island a worthy rival of Greece itself. Girgenti,
the ancient Acragas, or {330} Agrigentum, which numbered its
inhabitants by hundreds of thousands, but is now a poor place like
Syracuse, possesses ruins of at least ten temples or religious
edifices, of which that dedicated to Olympian Jupiter was the largest
in all Italy, and has been made use of in the construction of the
present mole. Another, that dedicated to Concord, is in a better
state of preservation than any other Greek temple outside the limits
of Hellas. The modern city occupies merely the site of the ancient
acropolis, and is built upon a layer of shelly sandstone, which
descends in steps towards the sea. The cathedral has been built from
materials taken from a temple of Jupiter Atabyrios, and its baptismal
font is an ancient sarcophagus upon which are represented the loves of
Phædra and Hippolytus. In former times Agrigentum reached to within a
couple of miles from the sea. The modern port, named in honour of one
of the most famous sons of the city, lies to the west of the ancient
Hellenic _Emporium_, at a distance of four miles from the city. It is
the busiest harbour on the southern coast, and large quantities of
sulphur are exported from it (see Fig. 117, p. 317).
Sciacca, another seaside town farther to the west, in one of those
localities of the island most exposed to earthquakes, boasts of
being the modern representative of Selinus, though that Greek city
was situated about fourteen miles farther west, to the south of
Castelvetrano. Its seven temples have been overthrown by earthquakes,
but they still present us with remains of the purest Doric style. The
metopes of three of them have been conveyed to Palermo, where they form
the most precious ornaments of the museum.
Segesta, on the north coast, no longer exists, but there still remain
the ruins of a magnificent temple. Other remains of Greek art abound in
all parts of the island, and there are also monuments erected by the
Romans. If we contrast these ancient edifices with those raised since
by Byzantines, Moors, Normans, Spaniards, and Neapolitans, we are bound
to admit that the latter exhibit no progress, but decadence. Alas ! how
very much inferior are the inhabitants of modern Syracuse in comparison
with the fellow-citizens of an Archimedes !
Sicily offers most striking examples of towns changing their positions
in consequence of political disturbances. When the ancient Greek cities
were at the height of their power they boldly descended to the very
coast; but when war and rapine got the upper hand—when Moorish pirates
scoured the sea, and brigandage reigned in the interior—then it was
that most of the cities of Sicily took refuge on the summits of the
hills, abandoning their low-lying suburbs to decay, and allowing them
finally to disappear. Girgenti is a case in point. Some of the towns
occupy sites of much natural strength, and are almost inaccessible.
Such are Centuripe, or Centorbi, which stretches along the edge of a
rock to the west of the Simeto, and San Giuliano, the town of Astarte,
which stands on the summit of a pyramidal rock 1,200 feet in height
above Trapani. But, on the return of peace, the inhabitants abandoned
their eyries and came back to the plain or coast. All along the
northern coast, from Palermo to Messina, the towns on the _marina_,
or beach, kept increasing at the expense of the _borgos_ occupying
the summits of the mountains, and in many instances the latter were
deserted altogether. Cefalù {331} affords a striking illustration of
this change. The modern city nestles at the foot of a bold promontory,
upon the summit of which may still be seen the crenellated walls of the
old town, within which nothing now remains excepting a small cyclopean
temple, the most venerable ruin of all Sicily, which has resisted the
ravages of thirty centuries.[112]
THE ÆOLIAN OR LIPARIC ISLANDS.
The Æolian or Liparic Islands, though separated from Sicily by a strait
more than 300 fathoms in depth, may nevertheless be looked upon as a
dependency of the larger island. Some of these volcanic islands, “born
in the shadow of Mount Etna,” lie on a line connecting that volcano
with Mount Vesuvius, and they originated probably during the same
convulsion of nature. They all consist of lavas, cinders, or pumice,
ejected from volcanoes. Two amongst them, Vulcano and Stromboli,
are still active volcanoes, and the flames and undulating columns
of smoke rising from them enable mariners and fishermen to foretell
changes of temperature or wind. It is probable that this intelligent
interpretation of volcanic phenomena was the reason why these islands
were dedicated to Æolus, the god of the winds, who there revealed
himself to mariners.
Lipari, the largest and most central of these islands, is at the
same time the most populous. A considerable town, commanded by an
ancient castle, rises like an amphitheatre on its northern shore. A
well-cultivated plain, abounding in olive-trees, orange-trees, and
vines, surrounds the town, and the slopes of the hills are cultivated
almost to their very summits. The population, as in Sicily, has been
recruited from the most diverse elements since the time that Greek
colonists from Rhodes, Cnidus, and Selinus entered into an alliance
with the aboriginal inhabitants. This intermixture of races is
proceeding now as much as ever, for commerce continually introduces
fresh blood, and many Calabrian brigands have been conveyed to the
island, where they have become peaceable citizens. The population is
now permitted to multiply in peace, for the volcanoes of Lipari have
been quiescent for centuries. The Lipariotes have a legend according
to which St. Calogero chased the devils from the islands, and shut
them up in the furnaces of Vulcano, and we may infer from this that
the last volcanic eruption took place soon after the introduction of
Christianity; that is to say, about the sixth century. The existence
of subterranean forces manifests itself now only in thermal springs
and {332} steam jets, which have been visited from the most ancient
times for the cure of diseases. Earthquakes, however, are of frequent
occurrence, and that of 1780 so much frightened the inhabitants that
with one accord they dedicated themselves to the Virgin Mary. Dolomieu,
who visited Lipari in the year following, found them wearing a small
chain on the arm, by means of which they desired to show that they had
become the slaves of the “Liberating Virgin.”
[Illustration: Fig. 122.—THE CENTRAL PORTION OF THE ÆOLIAN ISLANDS.]
Lipari is a land of promise to the geologist, on account of the great
variety of its lavas. Monte della Castagna is wholly composed of
obsidian. Another hill, Monte Bianco, consists of pumice, and, when
seen from a distance, has the appearance of being covered with snow.
The streams of pumice which fill every ravine extend down to the
sea, and the water is covered with this buoyant stone, which drifts
sometimes as far as Corsica. Lipari supplies nearly the whole of Europe
with pumice.[113]
Vulcano, to the south of Lipari, from which it is separated by a
strait less than a mile across, contrasts strangely with its smiling
neighbour. Vulcano, with the exception of a few olives and vines
growing on the southern slopes, consists wholly of naked scoriæ, and
this circumstance probably led to its being dedicated to Vulcan. Most
of its rocks are black or of a reddish hue like iron, but there are
{333} others which are scarlet, yellow, or white. At the northern
extremity of the island rises the Vulcanello, a small cone which
appeared above the surface of the sea nobody knows when, and which an
isthmus of reddish cinders united about the middle of the thirteenth
century to the principal volcano of the island. This central mountain
of the island has a crater about 1,800 yards in circumference, from
which steam continually escapes. The atmosphere is charged with
sulphurous vapours difficult to breathe. From hundreds of small
orifices jets of steam make their escape with a throbbing and hissing
noise. Some of these fumaroles have a temperature of 610° F. Jets of
a lower temperature are met with in other parts of the island, and
even at the bottom of the bay. Violent eruptions are rare, and in the
eighteenth century only three occurred. The last eruption took place
in 1873, after a repose of a hundred years. Until recently the only
inhabitants of Vulcano were a few convicts, who collected sulphur and
boracic acid, and manufactured a little alum. But an enterprising
Scotchman has now taken possession of this grand chemical laboratory.
He has built a large manufactory near the port, and a few trees planted
around his Moorish residence have somewhat improved the repulsive
aspect of the country.
Stromboli, though smaller than either Lipari or Vulcano, is
nevertheless more celebrated, on account of its frequent eruptions. For
ages back scarcely any mariners have passed this island without seeing
its summit in a state of illumination. At intervals of five minutes,
or less, the seething lava filling its caldron bubbles up, explosions
occur, and steam and stones are ejected. These rhythmical eruptions
form a most agreeable sight, for there is no danger about them, and the
olive groves of the Stromboliotes have never been injured by a stream
of lava. The volcano, however, has its moments of exasperation, and its
ashes have frequently been carried to the coast of Calabria, which is
more than thirty miles off.
Panaria and the surrounding group of islands between Stromboli and
Lipari have undergone many changes, if Dolomieu and Spallanzani are
correct in saying that they originally formed only a single island,
which was blown into fragments by an eruption having its centre near
the present island of Dattilo. A hot spring and an occasional bubbling
up of the sea-water prove that the volcanic forces are not yet quite
extinct.
As regards the small eastern islands of the archipelago, Salina,
Felicudi, and Alicudi, the last of which resembles a tent pitched upon
the surface of the water, history furnishes no records of their ever
having been in any other than a quiescent state. The island of Ustica,
about thirty miles to the north of Palermo, is likewise of volcanic
origin, but is not known ever to have had an eruption. It is one of
the most dreaded places of exile in Italy. Near it is the uninhabited
island of Medico, the ancient Osteodes, where the mercenaries deserted
by the Carthaginians were left to die of starvation. {334}
THE ÆGADIAN ISLANDS.
Off the western extremity of Sicily lie shallows, sand-banks, and
calcareous islands of the same composition as the adjoining mainland.
These are the Ægades, or Goat Islands, named after the animals which
climb their steep escarpments. Favignana, near which the Romans won
the naval victory which terminated the first Punic war, is the largest
of these islands. Its steep cliffs abound in caverns, in which heaps
of shells, gnawed bones, and stone implements have been found, dating
back to the contemporaries of the mammoth and the antediluvian bear.
Conflicts between contrary winds are frequent in this labyrinth of
rocks and shoals, and the power of the waves is much dreaded. The tides
are most irregular, and give rise to dangerous eddies. The sudden ebb,
locally known as _marubia_, or “tipsy sea” (_mare ubbriaco?_), has been
the cause of many shipwrecks.
[Illustration: Fig. 123.—THE MEDITERRANEAN TO THE SOUTH OF SICILY.
Scale 1 : 4,000,000.]
PANTELLARIA.
Pantellaria rises in the very centre of the strait which unites the
Western Mediterranean with the Eastern. The island is of volcanic
origin, abounds in thermal springs, and, above all, in steam jets.
Placed on a great line of navigation, Pantellaria might have become
of importance if it had possessed a good harbour like Malta. To
judge from certain ruins, the population was more considerable {335}
formerly than it is now. There exist about a thousand odd edifices,
called _sesi_ by the inhabitants, which are supposed to be ancient
dwellings. Like the _nuraghi_ of Sardinia, they have the shape of
hives, and are built of huge blocks of rock without mortar. Some of
them are twenty-five feet high and forty-five feet wide; and Rossi, the
archæologist, thinks that they date back to the stone age, for pieces
of worked obsidian have been found in them.
From the top of Pantellaria we are able to distinguish the promontories
on the Tunisian coast, but, though it is nearer to Africa than to
Europe, the island nevertheless belongs to the latter continent, as is
proved by the configuration of the sea-bottom. This cannot be said of
Linosa, an island with four volcanic peaks to the west of Malta, and
still less of the Pelagian Islands. The latter, consisting of Lampedusa
and a satellite rock called Lampion, owe their name (Lamp-bearer and
Lamp) to the light which, legend tells us, was kept burning by a hermit
or angel for the benefit of mariners. In our own days this legendary
lamp has been superseded by a small lighthouse marking the entrance to
the port of Lampedusa, where vessels of three or four hundred tons find
a safe shelter.
About the close of the eighteenth century the Russians proposed to
establish a military station on Lampedusa to rival that of Malta, but
this project was never carried out, and has not been taken up by the
Italian Government. The population consists of soldiers, political
exiles, criminals, and a few settlers, who speak Maltese.[114]
MALTA AND GOZZO.
Malta, though a political dependency of Great Britain, belongs
geographically to Italy, for it rises from the same submarine plateau
as Sicily. About fifty miles to the east of the island the depth of
the sea exceeds 1,500 fathoms, but in the north, in the direction of
Sicily, it hardly amounts to eighty, and there can be no doubt that an
isthmus formerly united Malta to continental Europe. Geologists are
agreed that the land of which Malta and Gozzo are now the only remains
must formerly have been of great extent, for amongst the fossils of
its most recent limestone rocks have been found the bones of elephants
and other animals which only inhabit continents. Even now the island
is slowly wasting away, and its steep cliffs, pierced by numerous
grottoes, locally known as _ghar_, are gradually crumbling into dust.
Placed in the very centre of the Mediterranean, and possessed of an
excellent port, Malta has at all times been a commercial station
of much importance. It has been occupied by all the nations who
succeeded each other in the possession of the Mediterranean—Phœnicians,
Carthaginians, Romans, and Greeks. But long before that time the island
must have been inhabited, for we meet with grottoes excavated in the
rocks, and with curious edifices resembling the _nuraghi_ of Sardinia,
and it is just possible that the descendants of these aborigines still
{336} constitute the principal element of the existing population,
which, at all events, is very mixed, and during the domination of the
Saracens almost became Arab. The language spoken is a very corrupt
Italian, containing many Arabic words.
[Illustration: Fig. 124.—THE PORT OF MALTA.
Scale 1 : 49,000.]
[Illustration: LA VALETTA, MALTA.]
The great military part played by Malta began when the Knights of
St. John, after their expulsion from Rhodes in 1522, installed
themselves upon the island, and converted it into the bulwark of
the Christian world. In the beginning of this century Malta passed
into the possession of the English, who may survey thence, as from a
watch-tower, the whole of the Mediterranean, from Gibraltar to Smyrna
{337} and Port Said. The excellent port of La Valetta singularly
facilitates the military and commercial part which Malta is called
upon to play in the world of the Mediterranean. It is sufficiently
spacious to shelter two entire fleets, and its approaches are defended
by fortifications rendered impregnable by the successive work of
three centuries. There are, besides, all the facilities required by
merchantmen, including a careening dock larger than any other in the
world. The commerce of the island is rapidly increasing; it is one of
the great centres of steamboat navigation, and submarine telegraphs
connect it with all parts of the world.[115]
The city of La Valetta has retained all its ancient picturesqueness,
in spite of its straight streets and the walls which surround it.
Its high white houses, ornamented with balconies and conservatories,
rise amphitheatre-like on the slope of a hill; stairs lead from
landing-place to landing-place to the summit of this hill; and from
every street we behold the blue sea, with its large merchantmen and
crowds of smaller vessels. Gondolas, having two huge eyes painted upon
the prow, glide noiselessly over the waters, and curious vehicles roll
heavily along the quays. Maltese, English soldiers, and sailors of
every nation crowd the streets. Now and then a woman glides rapidly
along the walls. Like all Christian women of the East, she wears the
_faldetta_, a sort of black silk domino, which hides her sumptuous
dress, and coquettishly conceals her features.
Malta beyond the walls of the town is but a dreary place of abode.
The country rises gently towards the south, in the direction of Città
Vecchia and the hills of Ben Gemma. Grey rocks abound, a fine dust
covers the vegetation, and the white walls of the village glisten
in the sun. There are no trees, except in a few solitary gardens,
where the famous mandarin oranges grow. Nor are there any rivers. The
soil is scorched, and it is matter for astonishment that it should
yield such abundant harvests of cereals, and clover (_sulla_) growing
to the height of a man. Carnation tints delight the eye during the
season of flowers. The Maltese peasants, small, wiry, and muscular,
are wonderfully industrious. They have brought the whole island under
cultivation, the cliffs alone excepted, and, where vegetable soil
is wanting, they produce it artificially by triturating the rocks.
In former times vessels coming from Sicily were bound to bring a
certain quantity of soil as ballast. But in spite of their careful
cultivation, the inhabitants of Malta, Gozzo, and Comino (thus
named from cumin, which, with cotton, is the principal crop of the
island), the produce hardly suffices for six months’ consumption,
and the islanders are largely dependent upon Sicily for their food.
Navigation and the fisheries contribute likewise towards the means of
subsistence, but the Maltese would nevertheless perish on their island
if the surplus population did not emigrate to all the coast lands of
the Mediterranean, and especially to Algeria, where the Maltese, as
everywhere else, are distinguished for thrift and industry. {338}
In winter this exodus is in some measure compensated for by the
arrival of many English families, who visit the island for the sake of
its dry and mild climate. February is the finest month, and the island
is then resplendent with verdure, but the scorching heat of summer soon
dries up the vegetation.
A governor appointed by the Crown exercises executive functions, and
enjoys the privilege of mercy. He is assisted by a Council of seven
members, by whom all laws are discussed and voted. The lord-lieutenant
of each district is chosen amongst the Maltese nobles, and deputies
appointed by the governor manage the affairs of the villages. Italian
is the language used in the courts, with the exception of the Supreme
Court, into which English was introduced in 1823.
The revenues of the island, about £170,000 annually, are not sufficient
to cover the military expenses, and the deficiency is made up by the
imperial treasury.
Most of the inhabitants are Roman Catholics. The bishop is appointed by
the Pope, and enjoys an income of £4,000.[116]
VIII.—SARDINIA.
It is a curious fact that an island so fertile as Sardinia, so rich
in metals, and so favourably situated in the centre of the Tyrrhenian
Sea, should have lagged behind in the race of progress as it has. When
the Carthaginians held that island its population was certainly more
numerous than it is now, and the fearful massacres placed on record by
the historians of Rome testify to this fact. Its decadence was sudden
and thorough. In part it may be accounted for by the configuration of
the island, which presents steep cliffs towards Italy, whence emigrants
might have arrived, whilst its western coast is bounded by marshes
and insalubrious swamps. But the principal cause of this torpor,
which endured for centuries, is traceable to the actions of man. The
conquerors who succeeded the Romans and Byzantines in the possession
of the island, whether Saracens, Pisans, Genoese, or Aragonese,
monopolized its produce solely with a view to their own profit, and
further mischief was wrought by the pirates of Barbary, who frequently
descended upon its coasts. As recently as 1815 the Tunisians landed
upon Sant’ Antioco, massacring the inhabitants, or carrying them into
slavery. The coast districts became depopulated, and the inhabitants
retired to the interior, where, oppressed by their feudal lords,
they led a life of isolation from the rest of Europe. It is hardly a
generation since Sardinia began to participate in the general progress
made throughout Italy.
[Illustration: Fig. 125.—THE SEA TO THE SOUTH OF SARDINIA.
Scale 1 : 2,000,000.]