NICE, January 20, 1764.
DEAR SIR,--Last Sunday I crossed Montalban on horseback, with some
Swiss officers, on a visit to our consul, Mr. B--d, who lives at Ville
Franche, about half a league from Nice. It is a small town, built upon
the side of a rock, at the bottom of the harbour, which is a fine
basin, surrounded with hills on every side, except to the south, where
it lies open to the sea. If there was a small island in the mouth of
it, to break off the force of the waves, when the wind is southerly, it
would be one of the finest harbours in the world; for the ground is
exceeding good for anchorage: there is a sufficient depth of water, and
room enough for the whole navy of England. On the right hand, as you
enter the port, there is an elegant fanal, or lighthouse, kept in good
repair: but in all the charts of this coast which I have seen, this
lanthorn is laid down to the westward of the harbour; an error equally
absurd and dangerous, as it may mislead the navigator, and induce him
to run his ship among the rocks, to the eastward of the lighthouse,
where it would undoubtedly perish. Opposite to the mouth of the harbour
is the fort, which can be of no service, but in defending the shipping
and the town by sea; for, by land, it is commanded by Montalban, and
all the hills in the neighbourhood. In the war of 1744, it was taken
and retaken. At present, it is in tolerable good repair. On the left of
the fort, is the basin for the gallies, with a kind of dock, in which
they are built, and occasionally laid up to be refitted. This basin is
formed by a pretty stone mole; and here his Sardinian majesty's two
gallies lie perfectly secure, moored with their sterns close to the
jette. I went on board one of these vessels, and saw about two hundred
miserable wretches, chained to the banks on which they sit and row,
when the galley is at sea. This is a sight which a British subject,
sensible of the blessing he enjoys, cannot behold without horror and
compassion. Not but that if we consider the nature of the case, with
coolness and deliberation, we must acknowledge the justice, and even
sagacity, of employing for the service of the public, those malefactors
who have forfeited their title to the privileges of the community.
Among the slaves at Ville Franche is a Piedmontese count, condemned to
the gallies for life, in consequence of having been convicted of
forgery. He is permitted to live on shore; and gets money by employing
the other slaves to knit stockings for sale. He appears always in the
Turkish habit, and is in a fair way of raising a better fortune than
that which he has forfeited.
It is a great pity, however, and a manifest outrage against the law of
nations, as well as of humanity, to mix with those banditti, the
Moorish and Turkish prisoners who are taken in the prosecution of open
war. It is certainly no justification of this barbarous practice, that
the Christian prisoners are treated as cruelly at Tunis and Algiers. It
would be for the honour of Christendom, to set an example of generosity
to the Turks; and, if they would not follow it, to join their naval
forces, and extirpate at once those nests of pirates, who have so long
infested the Mediterranean. Certainly, nothing can be more shameful,
than the treaties which France and the Maritime Powers have concluded
with those barbarians. They supply them with artillery, arms, and
ammunition, to disturb their neighbours. They even pay them a sort of
tribute, under the denomination of presents; and often put up with
insults tamely, for the sordid consideration of a little gain in the
way of commerce. They know that Spain, Sardinia, and almost all the
Catholic powers in the Mediterranean, Adriatic, and Levant, are at
perpetual war with those Mahometans; that while Algiers, Tunis, and
Sallee, maintain armed cruisers at sea, those Christian powers will not
run the risque of trading in their own bottoms, but rather employ as
carriers the maritime nations, who are at peace with the infidels. It
is for our share of this advantage, that we cultivate the piratical
States of Barbary, and meanly purchase passports of them, thus
acknowledging them masters of the Mediterranean.
The Sardinian gallies are mounted each with five-and-twenty oars, and
six guns, six-pounders, of a side, and a large piece of artillery
amidships, pointing ahead, which (so far as I am able to judge) can
never be used point-blank, without demolishing the head or prow of the
galley. The accommodation on board for the officers is wretched. There
is a paltry cabin in the poop for the commander; but all the other
officers lie below the slaves, in a dungeon, where they have neither
light, air, nor any degree of quiet; half suffocated by the heat of the
place; tormented by fleas, bugs, and lice; and disturbed by the
incessant noise over head. The slaves lie upon the naked banks, without
any other covering than a tilt. This, however, is no great hardship, in
a climate where there is scarce any winter. They are fed with a very
scanty allowance of bread, and about fourteen beans a day and twice a
week they have a little rice, or cheese, but most of them, while they
are in harbour knit stockings, or do some other kind of work, which
enables them to make some addition to this wretched allowance. When
they happen to be at sea in bad weather, their situation is truly
deplorable. Every wave breaks over the vessel, and not only keeps them
continually wet, but comes with such force, that they are dashed
against the banks with surprising violence: sometimes their limbs are
broke, and sometimes their brains dashed out. It is impossible (they
say) to keep such a number of desperate people under any regular
command, without exercising such severities as must shock humanity. It
is almost equally impossible to maintain any tolerable degree of
cleanliness, where such a number of wretches are crouded together
without conveniences, or even the necessaries of life. They are ordered
twice a week to strip, clean, and bathe themselves in the sea: but,
notwithstanding all the precautions of discipline, they swarm with
vermin, and the vessel smells like an hospital, or crouded jail. They
seem, nevertheless, quite insensible of their misery, like so many
convicts in Newgate: they laugh and sing, and swear, and get drunk when
they can. When you enter by the stern, you are welcomed by a band of
music selected from the slaves; and these expect a gratification. If
you walk forwards, you must take care of your pockets. You will be
accosted by one or other of the slaves, with a brush and blacking-ball
for cleaning your shoes; and if you undergo this operation, it is ten
to one but your pocket is picked. If you decline his service, and keep
aloof, you will find it almost impossible to avoid a colony of vermin,
which these fellows have a very dexterous method of conveying to
strangers. Some of the Turkish prisoners, whose ransom or exchange is
expected, are allowed to go ashore, under proper inspection; and those
forcats, who have served the best part of the time for which they were
condemned, are employed in public works, under a guard of soldiers. At
the harbour of Nice, they are hired by ship-masters to bring ballast,
and have a small proportion of what they earn, for their own use: the
rest belongs to the king. They are distinguished by an iron shackle
about one of their legs. The road from Nice to Ville Franche is scarce
passable on horseback: a circumstance the more extraordinary, as those
slaves, in the space of two or three months, might even make it fit for
a carriage, and the king would not be one farthing out of pocket, for
they are quite idle the greatest part of the year.
The gallies go to sea only in the summer. In tempestuous weather, they
could not live out of port. Indeed, they are good for nothing but in
smooth water during a calm; when, by dint of rowing, they make good
way. The king of Sardinia is so sensible of their inutility, that he
intends to let his gallies rot; and, in lieu of them, has purchased two
large frigates in England, one of fifty, and another of thirty guns,
which are now in the harbour of Ville Franche. He has also procured an
English officer, one Mr. A--, who is second in command on board of one
of them, and has the title of captain consulteur, that is, instructor
to the first captain, the marquis de M--i, who knows as little of
seamanship as I do of Arabic.
The king, it is said, intends to have two or three more frigates, and
then he will be more than a match for the Barbary corsairs, provided
care be taken to man his fleet in a proper manner: but this will never
be done, unless he invites foreigners into his service, officers as
well as seamen; for his own dominions produce neither at present. If he
is really determined to make the most of the maritime situation of his
dominions, as well as of his alliance with Great-Britain, he ought to
supply his ships with English mariners, and put a British commander at
the head of his fleet. He ought to erect magazines and docks at Villa
Franca; or if there is not conveniency for building, he may at least
have pits and wharfs for heaving down and careening; and these ought to
be under the direction of Englishmen, who best understand all the
particulars of marine oeconomy. Without all doubt, he will not be able
to engage foreigners, without giving them liberal appointments; and
their being engaged in his service will give umbrage to his own
subjects: but, when the business is to establish a maritime power,
these considerations ought to be sacrificed to reasons of public
utility. Nothing can be more absurd and unreasonable, than the murmurs
of the Piedmontese officers at the preferment of foreigners, who
execute those things for the advantage of their country, of which they
know themselves incapable. When Mr. P--n was first promoted in the
service of his Sardinian majesty, he met with great opposition, and
numberless mortifications, from the jealousy of the Piedmontese
officers, and was obliged to hazard his life in many rencounters with
them, before they would be quiet. Being a man of uncommon spirit, he
never suffered the least insult or affront to pass unchastised. He had
repeated opportunities of signalizing his valour against the Turks; and
by dint of extraordinary merit, and long services not only attained the
chief command of the gallies, with the rank of lieutenant-general, but
also acquired a very considerable share of the king's favour, and was
appointed commandant of Nice. His Sardinian majesty found his account
more ways than one, in thus promoting Mr. P--n. He made the acquisition
of an excellent officer, of tried courage and fidelity, by whose advice
he conducted his marine affairs. This gentleman was perfectly well
esteemed at the court of London. In the war of 1744, he lived in the
utmost harmony with the British admirals who commanded our fleet in the
Mediterranean. In consequence of this good understanding, a thousand
occasional services were performed by the English ships, for the
benefit of his master, which otherwise could not have been done,
without a formal application to our ministry; in which case, the
opportunities would have been lost. I know our admirals had general
orders and instructions, to cooperate in all things with his Sardinian
majesty; but I know, also, by experience, how little these general
instructions avail, when the admiral is not cordially interested in the
service. Were the king of Sardinia at present engaged with England in a
new war against France, and a British squadron stationed upon this
coast, as formerly, he would find a great difference in this
particular. He should therefore carefully avoid having at Nice a
Savoyard commandant, utterly ignorant of sea affairs; unacquainted with
the true interest of his master; proud, and arbitrary; reserved to
strangers, from a prejudice of national jealousy; and particularly
averse to the English.
With respect to the antient name of Villa Franca, there is a dispute
among antiquarians. It is not at all mentioned in the Itinerarium of
Antoninus, unless it is meant as the port of Nice. But it is more
surprising, that the accurate Strabo, in describing this coast,
mentions no such harbour. Some people imagine it is the Portus Herculis
Monaeci. But this is undoubtedly what is now called Monaco; the harbour
of which exactly tallies with what Strabo says of the Portus Monaeci--
neque magnas, neque multas capit naves, It holds but a few vessels and
those of small burthen. Ptolomy, indeed, seems to mention it under the
name of Herculis Portus, different from the Portus Monaeci. His words
are these: post vari ostium ad Ligustrium mare, massiliensium, sunt
Nicaea, Herculis Portus, Trophaea Augusti, Monaeci Portus, Beyond the
mouth of the Var upon the Ligurian Coast, the Marsilian Colonies are
Nice, Port Hercules, Trophaea and Monaco. In that case, Hercules was
worshipped both here and at Monaco, and gave his name to both places.
But on this subject, I shall perhaps speak more fully in another
letter, after I have seen the Trophaea Augusti, now called Tourbia, and
the town of Monaco, which last is about three leagues from Nice. Here I
cannot help taking notice of the following elegant description from the
Pharsalia, which seems to have been intended for this very harbour.
Finis et Hesperiae promoto milite varus,
Quaque sub Herculeo sacratus numine Portus
Urget rupe cava Pelagus, non Corus in illum
Jus habet, aut Zephirus, solus sua littora turbat
Circius, et tuta prohibet statione Monaeci.
The Troops advanc'd as far
As flows th' Hesperian Boundary, the Var;
And where the mountain scoop'd by nature's hands,
The spacious Port of Hercules, expands;
Here the tall ships at anchor safe remain
Tho' Zephyr blows, or Caurus sweeps the Plain;
The Southern Blast alone disturbs the Bay;
And to Monaco's safer Port obstructs the way.
The present town of Villa Franca was built and settled in the
thirteenth century, by order of Charles II. king of the Sicilies, and
count of Provence, in order to defend the harbour from the descents of
the Saracens, who at that time infested the coast. The inhabitants were
removed hither from another town, situated on the top of a mountain in
the neighbourhood, which those pirates had destroyed. Some ruins of the
old town are still extant. In order to secure the harbour still more
effectually, Emanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy, built the fort in the
beginning of the last century, together with the mole where the gallies
are moored. As I said before, Ville Franche is built on the face of a
barren rock, washed by the sea; and there is not an acre of plain
ground within a mile of it. In summer, the reflexion of the sun from
the rocks must make it intolerably hot; for even at this time of the
year, I walked myself into a profuse sweat, by going about a quarter of
a mile to see the gallies.
Pray remember me to our friends at A--'s, and believe me to be ever
yours.