offing signalled to the admiral that the French fleet had put to sea. At
that season there was much gaiety, in dances, private theatricals, and
other amusements, on board the different ships in the harbour, and
preparations for an evening's entertainment were going on at the moment
the stirring signal was discovered. It was no sooner acknowledged on
board the “Victory” than the responding one appeared, “Weigh
immediately!” The scene of excitement and confusion ensuing the sudden
departure and interruption of festivities may be easily conceived. It
was a dark wintry evening; but the suddenness of the order to get under
way was equalled by the skill and courage with which it was executed.
The passage is so narrow that only one ship could pass at a time, and
each was guided only by the stern lights of the preceding vessel. At
seven o'clock, the whole of the fleet was entirely clear of the passage,
and, bidding a long farewell to La Madelena, they stood to the southward
in pursuit of the French fleet. The daring and determined spirit
exhibited by Nelson on this particular occasion was the subject of
especial eulogy in the House of Lords by his late Majesty, then Duke of
Clarence; being cited as the greatest instance of his unflinching
courage and constant activity.
Thus, as we have already found Corsica, we now see Sardinia, witnessing
some of the boldest achievements of our great naval hero.
Further interest attaches to La Madelena from its having repulsed the
attack of Napoleon, and driven him to a precipitate retreat from his
first field of arms. The young soldier, after being for some months in
garrison at Bonifacio, was attached, by order of Paschal Paoli, to the
expedition which sailed from thence in February, 1793, to reduce La
Madelena. He acted as second in command of the artillery, the whole
force being under the command of General Colonna-Cesari. A body of
troops having effected a lodgment on the island of Santo Stefano by
night, and a battery having been thrown up and armed, a heavy fire was
opened by Bonaparte on the town and its defences. They were held by a
garrison of 500 men, and the fire was returned by the islanders with
equal fury. The opposite shore of Gallura was lined by its brave
mountaineers, who, on the French frigate being dismasted and bearing up
for the Gulf of Arsachena, embarked from Parao, and attacked Santo
Stefano. Their assault was so vigorous that Bonaparte found himself
compelled to make a precipitate retreat from the island with a few of
his followers, leaving 200 prisoners, with all the _matériel_, baggage,
and artillery. In passing between the other islands, the fugitives were
also attacked by some Gallurese, who, concealing themselves near Capo
della Caprera, by the precision of their firing committed great havoc on
the flying enemy.
Mr. Tyndale states that many of the Corsicans and Ilvese who witnessed
this action, being still living when he visited La Madelena, and
relating various circumstances relative to it, he heard the following
story from an old veteran, who was an eyewitness of the fact:—
“Bonaparte was superintending the firing from the battery, and watching
the effect of it with his telescope, when observing the people at
Madelena going to mass, he exclaimed, ‘_Voglio tirare alla chiesa, per
far fuggire le donne!_’ (‘I should like to fire at the church, just to
frighten the women!’) While in garrison at Bonifacio, as lieutenant [?
captain] of artillery, he had mortar and gun practice every morning, and
had on all occasions shown the greatest precision in firing. In this
instance he was no less successful, for the shell entered the church
window, and fell at the foot of the image of N.S. di Madelena. It failed
to burst in this presence, and this miraculous instance of religious
respect had its due weight with the pious islanders, by whom it was
taken up, and for a long time preserved among the sacred curiosities of
the town. A natural cause was, however, soon discovered for the
harmlessness of the projectile. Napoleon continued his firing; but
finding that the shells took no effect, though they fell on the very
spot he intended, he examined some of them, and found that they were
filled with sand. ‘_Amici_,’ he exclaimed, burning with indignation;
‘_eccole il tradimento_;’ and the troops, who had been suffering much by
the fire from Madelena, imagining that the treason was on the part of
General Cesari, would have put him _alla lanterna_, had he not made his
escape on board the frigate.”
It has, indeed, been said that Paoli, reluctantly obeying the orders of
the French Convention to undertake the expedition against Sardinia,
entrusted the command to Colonna-Cesari, his intimate friend, with
instructions to secure its failure, considering Sardinia as the natural
ally of their own island. However this may be, the affair terminated by
the retreat of the general with the rest of his force, having thrown
from Santo Stefano 500 shells and 5000 round shot into Madelena, without
much effect.
We found in the harbour a Sardinian steam-ship of war[43], and ten or
twelve vessels of very small tonnage, engaged in the trade with Corsica,
Leghorn, and Marseilles. About twenty of this class belong to the port;
besides which it is frequented annually by from 200 to 300 other small
vessels, principally Genoese, their united tonnage amounting to about
5000 tons. Besides this legitimate commerce, the Ilvese carry on a
prosperous contraband trade, taking advantage of the numerous little
creeks and bays along the rocky coasts of the island. They are naturally
a seafaring people, while the Sardes manifest a decided repugnance to
engage in seafaring pursuits. The quays round the port of Madelena are
spacious, and the town, straggling up the side of a hill, has a neat
appearance, is said to be healthy, and is cleaner than any Sardinian
town we saw.
There are tolerable accommodations at Santa's Hotel. The reception of
foreign guests is however, I imagine, a rare occurrence, and the means
of supplying the table from the resources of the island appeared scanty;
so that we should have fared ill but for the kindness of an English
officer long settled at Madelena, who sent some substantial
contributions to our comforts, in addition to his own hospitality. The
name of Captain Roberts, R.N., is so well known to all visitors, as well
as among the Sardes, that it is public property, and I may be allowed to
bear testimony to the high esteem in which the hearty and genial old
sailor is generally held. His loss would occasion a blank at Madelena
not easily filled up; and I was happy to hear on my last visit to
Sardinia that his health had improved.
More English, I believe, are settled in the neighbourhood of La Madelena
than in the whole island of Sardinia; if, indeed, there are any to be
found, we did not hear of them. The English visitors consist principally
of officers on shooting excursions from Malta. We had a very pleasant
walk along the shore to the villa of an Australian colonist who, after
wandering about the world, had, seemingly to his content, settled down
on a small farm on the slopes of a valley a mile or two from the town. A
man fond of cultivation might be very happy here, with such a climate,
and the means of commanding a profusion of vegetables, fruits, and
flowers. Irrigation was effected from a well provided with the simple
machinery for lifting the water common in such countries, and by its aid
the gardens just seeded and planted for the spring, or rather winter,
crops, so early is vegetation, looked greener and fresher than anything
we had seen for a long time. The cauliflowers and peas were already
making forward progress; the latter, indeed, grow wild in this
neighbourhood. But while these carried us in imagination to the latter
days of an English spring, the hedges of prickly pear bore witness to
the arid nature of the soil and the heat of the climate; of that,
indeed, we were very sensible in our walks, though the month of November
had now commenced.
A cottage occupied, it was said, by an English botanist was pointed out
to us; and an English family has been settled for some time in the
solitude of the island of Caprera, of whose improvements great things
were said. Every one spoke especially of Mrs. C.'s beautiful flower
garden, and an anecdote was told respecting it, characteristic, I think,
rather of Sarde than of English feeling. On some occasion when the king
visited La Madelena, Mrs. C. having been requested to contribute flowers
to the decorations of the festa in preparation to do honour to the royal
visit, she is said to have replied: “I cultivate my flowers for my own
pleasure—_pour m'amuser_—not to ingratiate myself with a court. If his
majesty desires to see them, he must come to Caprera.” I cannot vouch
for the truth of the story, though it was in every one's mouth. What
amused me was, that the islanders considered this as evincing a truly
English spirit of independence, which they heartily approved.
The principal church of La Madelena, dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene, is
a neat structure of granite and marble. Its decorations are less gaudy
than those one usually sees, the most valued ornaments being a pair of
massive altar candlesticks and a crucifix, all of silver, the gift of
Lord Nelson, in acknowledgment of the kindness and hospitality he
received from the islanders while his fleet lay in the harbour. On the
base of the candlesticks are enchased the arms of Nelson and Brontë,
with this inscription:
VICE COMES
NELSON NILI
DUX BRONTIS ECC.E
ST.E MAGDAL.E INS.E
ST.E MAGDAL.E
D.D.D.
It is said that when the town publicly thanked Lord Nelson for the
donation, he replied: “These little ornaments are nothing; wait till I
catch the French outside their port. If they will but come out, I am
sure to capture them; and I promise to give you the value of one of
their frigates to build a church with. I have only to ask you to pray to
La Santissima Madonna that the French fleet may come out of Toulon. Do
you pray to her for that, and as for capturing them, I will undertake to
do all the rest.”
We landed at La Madelena on the anniversary of the day when Nelson first
anchored his fleet off the town just fifty years before. As we trace his
career among the Mediterranean islands, recollections of those eventful
times crowd on our memories. In the half century that has intervened,
how has the aspect of affairs changed!
It was the eve of the feast of All Saints (1st Nov.), devoutly observed,
with that of All Souls on the day following, in all Catholic countries.
From daylight till ten at night the bells of St. Magdalene incessantly
clanged, and the church was thronged with successive crowds, absorbed
in pious and affectionate devotion to the memories of their departed
friends, according to the rites of the Roman Church. How thrilling are
the deep tones of the _De Profundis_ from the compositions of a good
musical school! And what observance can be more touching than this
periodical commemoration of the dead? There is none that more harmonises
with the best feelings of our nature; and yet of all the dogmas rejected
by ecclesiastical reforms, I know of none which has less pretensions to
Scriptural authority or has been more mischievous, corrupting alike the
priesthood and the laity, than that which makes the masses and prayers
incident to the commemoration of the dead propitiatory for sins
committed in the flesh.
The solemn festival brought out all the women of La Madelena, never
perhaps seen to more advantage than in a costume of black silk, suited
to the solemnity, with the Genoese mantle of white transparent muslin
attached to the back of the head, and falling gracefully over the
shoulders.
CHAP. XXVI.
_Ferried over to the Main Island.—Start for the Mountain Passes
of the Gallura.—Sarde Horses and Cavallante.—Valley of the
Liscia.—Pass some Holy Places on the Hills.—Festivals held
there.—Usages of the Sardes indicating their Eastern Origin._
The halt at La Madelena was only a step in our route to the main island.
We had still to cross a broad channel, and landing at Parao, on the
Sardinian shore, horses were to be waiting for us. This arrangement,
kindly made by Captain Roberts, required a day's delay. We were to
proceed to Tempio, in the heart of the Gallura Mountains, under guidance
of the courier in charge of the post letters.
Ferried across the channel in less than an hour, we found the horses
tethered among the bushes. House there was none, which must be
inconvenient when the weather is too tempestuous for crossing the strait
from Parao. We took shelter from the heat under a rook, making studies
of a group of picturesque shepherds, and amusing ourselves with some
luscious grapes,—baskets of which were waiting for the return of the
passage-boat to La Madelena,—while a pack-horse was loaded with our
baggage.
The outfit for this expedition was more than usually cumbersome, as it
comprised blankets and other appendages for camping out, if occasion
required. The cavallante, however, made nothing of stowing it away,
cleverly thrusting bag and baggage into the capacious leather pouches
which hung balanced on each side of the stout beast, with a portmanteau
across the pack-saddle. When all was done, the cavallante mounted to the
top of the load, where he perched himself like an Arab on a dromedary.
The cavallo Sardo _par excellence_, such as the higher classes ride, is
a strong spirited barb, highly valued. These horses are carefully broken
to a peculiar step, called the “portante,” something between an amble
and a trot, for which we have neither a corresponding word or pace. I
cannot say that I admired the pace. It only makes four or five miles an
hour, and, to my apprehension, might be described as a shuffle, not
being so easy as a canter, nor having the invigorating swing of a trot.
The natives, however, consider the movement delightful; and a writer on
Sardinia says: “_Il viaggiare in Sardegna è perciò la più dolce cosa del
mondo; l'antipongo all'andare in barca col vento in poppa_”—“The
travelling in Sardinia is, on this account, one of the pleasantest
things in the world; I prefer it to sailing in a vessel with the wind
astern.”
The ordinary Sarde horse is a hardy, sure-footed animal, undersized, but
capable of carrying heavy burthens. Great numbers of them are kept, as
the poorest native disdains walking. They are ill fed, and have rough
treatment. As pack-horses they convey all the commodities of home
produce, or imported and interchanged, throughout the interior of the
island, there being scarcely any roads, and consequently no
wheel-carriages employed, except on the Strada Reale, through the level
plains of the Campidano, between Cagliari and Porto Torres.
The _viandanti_ who conduct this traffic are a numerous and hardy class
of people, much enduring in the long and toilsome journeys through such
a country as their vocation requires them to traverse. We found them
civil, patient, and attentive, but hard at a bargain,—so that this mode
of travelling is more expensive than might be expected,—and occasionally
rather independent. A curious instance of this occurred at Tempio. We
had made a bargain, on his own terms, with one of these people, for
horses to proceed on our route, and they were brought to the door ready
for loading up and mounting, when the cavallante refused to allow our
using our English saddles. Not wishing to lose time, we took
considerable pains to point out that the saddles being well padded would
not wring his horses' backs, conceiving that to be what he apprehended.
But it was to no purpose; there seemed to be no other reason for the
scruple than that a Sarde horse must be caparisoned _à la Sarde_, with
high-peaked saddle and velvet housings. The cavallante, persisting, led
his horses back to the stable, losing a profitable engagement rather
than being willing to submit to their being equipped in a foreign
fashion. After a short delay we procured others from a cavallante who
made no such difficulties, and proved a very serviceable and attentive
conductor.
[Illustration: VALLEY OF THE LISCIA.]
After leaving Parao, and calling at a solitary _stazza_ or farm, the
track we pursued led through a wide plain watered by the Liscia. The
river made many windings among meadows clothed with luxuriant herbage,
and fed by numerous herds of cattle, and sheep, and goats; forming a
pastoral scene of singular beauty, of which my companion's sketch,
here annexed, conveys a good idea. The valley is bounded by ridges of no
great elevation, partially covered with a shrubbery of myrtle, cistus,
and other such underwood, among rocks and cliffs worn by the waters into
fantastic shapes. We occasionally crossed spurs of these ridges,
commanding extensive views of the Straits of Bonifacio, with the
mountains of Corsica in the distance on the one hand, and the nearer
island of Madelena on the other.
Nearly all the province of Gallura, washed by the Mediterranean on three
sides, consists of mountainous tracts, with valleys intervening, similar
to this of the Liscia. There is scarcely any cultivation, and they are
uninhabited; almost all the towns and villages of the Capo di Sopra
lying on the coast. On these plains a few shepherds lead a nomad life
during the healthy season, being driven from them by the deadly
_intempérie_ prevailing in summer and autumn. Until lately, the whole
district was notorious for the crimes of robbery and vindictive murder,
for the perpetration of which, and the security of the offenders, its
solitudes and natural fastnesses afforded the greatest facilities.
Continuing our route we crossed some park-like glades, with scattered
forest trees, and fringed by the graceful shrubbery, the _macchia_,
common to both the islands of Corsica and Sardinia. At some distance on
our left (south-east) appeared a beautifully wooded hill, with a chapel
on the summit, Santa Maria di Arsachena, one of the sanctuaries held in
great veneration by the Gallurese. To these holy places they flock in
great numbers on certain festivals, when the lonely spots, often
hill-tops, surrounded by the most wild and romantic scenery, witness
devotions and festivities, to which the revels form the chief
allurement.
There is a still holier place further to the south of our track, the
Monte Santo, and I think its lofty summit, with a small chapel scarcely
visible amid the dark verdure of the surrounding woods, was pointed out
to us. It overhangs the village of Logo Santo, well described as the
“Mecca of the Gallurese.” The sanctity of the place was established in
the thirteenth century, the tradition being that the relics of St.
Nicholas and St. Trano, anchorites and martyrs here A.D. 362, were
discovered on the spot by two Franciscan monks, led to Sardinia by a
vision of the Virgin Mary at Jerusalem. A village grew up round the
three churches then erected in honour of the Saints and the Blessed
Virgin, with a Franciscan convent, long stripped of its endowments, and
fallen to ruin.
On the occurrence of the festivals celebrated at these holy places, the
people of the neighbouring parishes assemble in multitudes, marching in
procession, with their banners at their head; and the sacred flag of
Tempio, surmounted by a silver cross, is brought by the canons of the
cathedral and planted on the spot. The devotions are accompanied by
feasting, dancing, music, and sports, the people prolonging the revels
into the night, as many of them come from far, and the festivals occupy
more than one day.
That Christian rites were, from very early times, blended with
festivities accordant to the national habits of the new converts, with
even some alloy of pagan usages, is understood to have been a policy
adopted by the founders of the faith among semi-barbarous nations—a
concession to the weakness of their neophytes. Our own village wakes
and fairs, with their green boughs and flags, cakes and ale, originally
held in the precincts of the church on the feast-day of the patron
saint, partook of a similar character as the festivals of the Gallurese;
but with us the religious element has been long extinct.
The festivals are not confined to the Gallura; they have their stations
throughout the island, every district having some shrine of peculiar
sanctity. Their celebration is distinguished by some peculiarities,
which, in common with many other customs of the Sardes, and numerous
existing monuments and remains, leave no doubt of Sardinia having been
early colonised from the East. Traces may also be found in the customs
of the Sardes of similarity with the Greek life and manners, derived
indeed by the Greeks from the same common source.
Thus the usages of the Sardes afford, in a variety of instances, a
living commentary, perhaps the best still existing, on the modes of life
and thought recorded in Homer and the Bible. This they owe to their
insular position, their slight admixture with other races, and the
consequent tenacity with which they have adhered to their primitive
traditions.
Of some of these indications of origin we may take occasion to treat
hereafter, as they fall in our way. For our present purpose may we not
refer to the worship in “high places” and in “groves,” to which the
Sardes are so zealously addicted, as a relic of practices often
denounced in the Old Testament, when the sacrifice was offered to idols?
They appear also to have been common and legitimate in the patriarchal
age and the earlier times of the Israelitish commonwealth, Jehovah alone
being the object of worship. What more biblical, as far as the Old
Testament is concerned, than the idea that worship and prayer are more
acceptable to the Almighty when offered on certain spots, holy ground,
remote, perhaps, from the usual haunts of the worshipper! What a living
picture we have in the festivities of the religious assemblies at Logo
Santo and Santa Maria di Arsachena, of the feasting and music, the songs
and dances accompanying the rites of Israelitish worship in common with
those of other eastern nations; not to speak of the festive character of
Greek solemnities, derived, indeed, from the same source, vestiges of
which, left by the Hellenic colonies, may also be traced.
However contrary these ideas and practices may be to the spirit and
precepts of the Gospel, they are so inherent in the genius and
traditions of the Sarde people, that I have heard it asserted that these
festas give, at the present day, almost the only vitality to the
ecclesiastical system established in the island. Their religious
character has almost entirely evaporated, though the forms remain. The
“solemn meetings,” instead of merely ending in innocent merriment, have
degenerated into scenes of riot, and often of bloodshed.
I was informed by the same person who made the remark that the festas
were the main prop of the priesthood in Sardinia—and a more competent
observer could not be found—that, from his own observation, men of the
most sober habits of life lost all command of themselves, became
absolutely frantic when tempted by the force of example, and led by what
may be called an instinctive national passion to participate in these
religious orgies. And Captain Smyth, R.N., who gives an interesting
account of one of these feasts, at which he was present[44], after
mentioning that “prayers, dances, poems, dinner, and supper concluded
[occupied] the day,” remarks, “that the feast of Santa Maria di
Arsachena has seldom been celebrated without the sacrifice of three or
four lives.” “The year preceding my visit,” he states, “two of the
carabiniere reale had been killed; and I was shown a young man who, on
the same occasion, received a ball through the breast, but having thus
satisfied his foe according to the Sarde code of honour, and fortunately
recovering, was, with his wife and a beautiful child, now enjoying the
gaieties of the day.”
Captain Smyth adds:—“I could not learn why there were no carabineers in
attendance on this anniversary; but the consequence was a numerous
concourse of banditti from the circumjacent fastnesses, notwithstanding
the presence of a great many ‘barancelli,’[45] who, it is known, will
not arrest a man that is only an assassin.”