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Rambles in Corsica and Sardinia

by Thomas Forester

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Chap. XXXVI

Oristano.—Orange-groves of Milis.—Cagliari.—Description of.—The Cathedral and Churches.—Religious Laxity.—Ecclesiastical Statistics.—Vegetable and Fruit Market.—Royal Museum.—Antiquities.—Coins found in Sardinia.—Phœnician Remains.—The Sarde Idols.

The high road between Sassari and Cagliari, called the Strada Reale, runs through the great level of the Campidano for a distance of 140 miles, and as there is a daily communication between the two cities by the well-appointed diligences already mentioned, the journey, unlike others in Sardinia, is performed with comfort and rapidity. But, whatever he may gain by the exchange, the traveller will hardly bid adieu to the mountains and forest-paths of the Gallura and Barbagia without regret.

About half way, stands Oristano, an old city, of some 6000 inhabitants, with some of the Spanish character of Alghero. Though fallen from its former importance, the place is still wealthy, and, in some degree, commercial. It is, however, deserted in the summer and autumn, when the atmosphere becomes so pestilential from the inhalations of the neighbouring stagna and lagunes as to justify the proverb:—

A Oristano che ghe vù,
In Oristano ghe resta!

The most striking object in the place is the belfry of the cathedral, a detached octangular tower, roofed with a pear-shaped dome, of coloured tiles, and commanding from the summit a fine view of the plains from the sea to the distant mountains. The orange groves of Milis, a village lying a little out of the high road to Oristano, are worth a visit. The trees are considered the finest in Europe. I have never seen orange trees that will bear comparison with them in any part of the world, except on some of the Dutch farms in the Cape colony, where they are still more magnificent; vying in size with the European oaks, planted, probably at the same time, by the German settlers from the Black Forest, the disbanded soldiers of the States of Holland, to whom many of the African Boers owe their origin. Such orange groves, when loaded with blossoms and fruit, glowing in the shade of their dense masses of glossy deep-green foliage, are perhaps the most charming of vegetable productions. No idea of their richness and beauty can be formed from the dwarf, round-topped trees, one sees in most orange districts. Here, as in South Africa, they owe their luxuriance to abundant irrigation. Some of the trees at Milis are from thirty-five to forty feet high, and there are said to be 300,000 of them of full growth. The annual produce is estimated at from fifty to sixty millions of fruit, and, being in great repute for their quality, they are conveyed to Sassari and Cagliari, and all parts of the island, the price varying from 1-1/2d. to 4-3/4d. per dozen, according to circumstances.

Cagliari, the capital of Sardinia, a city containing upwards of 35,000 inhabitants, is seen to most advantage when approached from the sea, the campagna in the vicinity being neither fertile nor picturesque. Standing at the head of a noble bay or gulf, twenty-four miles in depth and twelve across, with good anchorage everywhere, its advantageous position pointed out Cagliari as a seat of commerce from the earliest times. The Phœnicians, the Greeks, and Carthaginians were attracted by the fine harbour, and the inducements offered by the neighbouring heights for the construction of a fortified town. The Romans made it the chief seat of their rule in the island. The port, called the Darsena, is capable of containing more than all the shipping at present frequenting it, with such a depth of water that, while I was at Cagliari, one of the largest steamships in the royal Sardinian navy lay alongside the quay.

In the view from the gulf, the eye first rests on the upper town, surrounded with walls and towers, and crowning the summit of a hill upwards of 400 feet above the level of the sea. At the base of the heights lie the suburbs of the Marina, Stampace, and Villanova, the former occupying the space between the Castello, or Casteddu, as the whole circuit of the fortified town is called, and the port; and, with the two other suburbs, on the east and west of the Marina, forming one long continuous line of irregular buildings. In our tableau, the Casteddu towers proudly over the lower town, which has grown up beneath it since the Middle Ages. It still retains its original importance, containing all the principal public buildings, and being the residence of the government officials, and, in short, the aristocratic quarter. The best houses in the Marina are occupied by the foreign consuls and persons engaged in commerce, so that there is a marked distinction between the upper and lower parts of the city.

Besides a strong citadel, there are, in the circuit of the fortifications three massive towers, called the Elephant, the Lion, and the Eagle, built by the Pisans; and the Castello is entered by four arched and embattled gateways. One of these was in the act of being demolished during my recent visit to Cagliari, in order to afford freer communication between the upper town and the Marina. Its removal seemed emblematic of an improving state of society, tending to level the barriers of caste, and engage the rising generation of the privileged orders in pursuits calculated as much for their own benefit as the development of the resources with which Sardinia abounds.

Easy access to the Casteddu is gained by a circuitous avenue cut on the sloping side of the hill and under the escarped heights. Being planted with trees, it forms a pleasant walk, commanding extensive views of the Campidano, the distant mountains, and the Gulf of Cagliari. The direct ascent from the Marina is steep and toilsome, it being gained by a series of narrow avenues and flights of steps, landing in streets running parallel with that side of the Castello. These also are narrow as well as lofty, like those of most fortified places in the south of Europe. Here we find the best shops; and the thoroughfares have a busy appearance, except in the heat of the day, when most of the inhabitants indulge in the siesta.

The cathedral, standing in the heart of the Castello, was built by the Pisans with part of the remains of a basilica founded by Constantine. It is on a grand scale, having three naves, and a presbytery ascended by several ranges of steps. The church is embellished with fine marbles, and the ornaments being rich, with some good pictures and grand monuments, the effect, on the whole, is striking. A crypt hewn out of the solid rock, under the presbytery, is regarded with great reverence by the Sardes, as containing the supposed remains of two hundred martyrs removed there from the church of St. Saturninus, in 1617.

Among the fifty-two churches in the Castello and the suburbs, I will only mention that of St. Augustine, attached to which is the oratory built by himself during a short visit to the island. A story is told of one of the beams for the roof proving too short; upon which the saint, quoting to the workmen the text declaring that to those who have faith all things are possible, ordered them to pull at one end while he took the other, when, scarcely touching it, the beam stretched to the required length. St. Augustine’s remains were transported here in 505, from Hippo-Regius, where he died, by the Catholic bishops exiled from Africa by Thrasamond, king of the Vandals.94 The Chronicles inform us that these bishops, two hundred and twenty in number, were sustained by the benevolence of Pope Symmachus, a native of Sardinia, who sent them every year money and clothes. St. Augustine’s relics remained at Cagliari till 722, when Luitprand, king of the Lombards, in consequence of the danger to which they were constantly exposed by the invasions of the Saracens, obtained them from the Cagliarese, and carrying them to Pavia deposited them in the duomo of that city, where they rested, till in 1842, these were restored to Hippo by the French.95

The church of the Jesuits, at Cagliari, is described as distinguished among the others for the sumptuousness of its style, and its decorations of coloured marbles and columns. It was closed, with the adjoining college, at the time of my visit. The Jesuits formerly possessed large estates, and had colleges in several of the principal towns of the island. The whole were suppressed long ago; but in 1823, the late king, Carlo Felice, partially restored and re-endowed the order, some of the monks being re-established in the college of Cagliari. Of late years, there seems to have been a considerable reaction in the temper of the Sardes as regards religion, at least, in the towns. No people were more bigoted, more priest-ridden, more credulous of the absurdest superstitions. But in a conversation I recently had on the subject with a very intelligent and well-informed friend in the island, he assured me that the utmost laxity now prevails in the religious sentiments of the people. They have lost all respect for the clergy, calling them bottégaie, shopkeepers, as mindful only of the gains of their trade; and the churches bottége, shops. There is no vitality in the religion of the people, the services are a mere mummery, and the system is held together principally by the attractions of the popular festas, such as those described in a former chapter as scenes of bacchanalian revelry tricked out in the paraphernalia of religion. As for the Jesuits, the most obnoxious of the ecclesiastics, my friend stated, that the populace of Cagliari “burnt them out,” intending, I apprehend, to convey that they were violently expelled.

In earlier visits to the Continent, and reflecting on the subject at home, the question had often occurred whether, with advancing intelligence, and growing aspirations for civil and religious liberty, the people of Catholic countries might not be drawn, in the course of events, to a movement similar to that of our own Reformation of the Church in the 16th century; the ruling powers, as then, taking the lead, and emancipating their States from the papal yoke. Thus, while abuses and gross doctrinal errors were reformed, the exterior frame of the establishment, its hierarchy, ceremonial, privileges and property would remain intact; the whole system being so arranged as to be brought into harmony with the action of government, and to meet the demands of an enlightened age. Why should there not be more reformed national and independent churches?

In this view, when conversing with foreigners of intelligence, I have often pointed out the distinction between the Anglican Church and the “Evangelical” and other Protestant communities abroad. Such a reform would seem to be well suited to answer the wants of the kingdom of Sardinia in the present state of her relations with the Court of Rome. It would consolidate the fabric of the constitutional government; and we may conceive that the cabinet of Turin, and perhaps the king, are enlightened enough to be sensible of its advantages.

But it may well be doubted whether the masses of the population, in either that or any other Catholic country, are ripe for such a revolution. In this age of reason, the dogmas which formed the war-cries of Luther and Calvin have lost their influence on the minds of men, and, except in some sections of the various religious communities, a general apathy on doctrinal subjects has succeeded the excitement with which the Reformation was ushered in. The tendency of the present age is in the direction of more sweeping reforms, and when the time comes, as no thoughtful man can doubt it will with growing intelligence, for the people of Europe to cast off the shackles of superstition and bigotry, it may be feared that things of more serious account than ecclesiastical systems and institutions may be swept away by the overwhelming tide so long pent up.

Meanwhile, there appears little probability of any great change. The territorial distinctions between Catholic and Protestant States remain much the same as when they were shaped out in the time of the Reformation, and the wars succeeding it. Each party holds its own; and there is little probability of a national secession from the Church of Rome, even in the Sardinian dominions, where many circumstances concur to point out its expediency, and even its possibility. Among others, it will not be forgotten, that the standard of Protestantism was raised in the valleys of Savoy, ages before it floated triumphantly in the north of Europe.

In 1841 there were 91 monasteries in Sardinia, containing 1093 regular monks, besides lay brothers, &c., and 16 convents with 260 nuns; the whole number of persons attached to these institutions being calculated at 8000. There are about the same number of secular clergy, including the bishops, dignitaries, and cathedral chapters, with the parochial clergy, the island being divided into 393 parishes. The population of Sardinia, by the last returns I was able to procure96, was 541,907 in 1850; so that one-ninth were ecclesiastics of one description or another. It should be stated, however, that most, if not all, the monasteries and convents have been lately suppressed, and the religious pensioned off, so that the system is dying out.

The revenues of the bishops’ sees, and the cathedral and parochial clergy, were calculated in 1841 at about 66,000l., arising from church lands, besides the tithes, estimated at 1,500,000 lire nove, or 60,000l., supposed to be a low estimate, the tithes being worth one million of lire more. These revenues are exclusive of voluntary contributions, alms, offerings, and collections. The church lands contributed upwards of 3000l. annually as state subsidies, for the national debt, the maintaining roads and bridges, and the conveyance of the post. Mr. Tyndale estimates “the revenue of the see of Cagliari at from 60,000 to 80,000 scudi,—from 11,520l. to 15,360l. per annum; while that of the priests is about 1000 scudi, or 192l.” This gives some idea of the incomes of the Sardinian clergy. I imagine that the government has not interfered with any part of the ecclesiastical revenues, except those attached to the monasteries.

The fruit and vegetable markets of large foreign towns must always be attractive to a traveller, especially in the South and East, where the fruit, in great varieties, is so abundant, and he meets with vegetables unknown in the gardens and cookery of his own country. Not only so, but the dresses, and even the gestures and manners, of the country people, to say nothing of the dealings of the buyers, form a never-failing source of interest and amusement; while an additional zest is lent in a warm climate, by the freshness of the early hour at which the visit must be paid to be really enjoyed. The market at Cagliari is held in the suburb of Stampace, and approached by one of those avenues shaded with exotic trees, which make such agreeable promenades in the neighbourhood of the city. The principal supply comes from Pula, Arabus, and other villages at considerable distances from Cagliari; the soil in the vicinity being too arid to be productive. The supply appeared abundant, and of excellent quality. Among the fruits,—it was in the early part of September,—I noted grapes, figs, pears, oranges, lemons, citrons, peaches, melons, and prickly pears. Among the vegetables, the heaps of tomatas, chilis, and other condiments were surprising, and there were gigantic “torzi,” a kind of turnip-cabbage, and other varieties, whose names have escaped my memory.

My visit to the Royal Museum was also paid at an early hour, through the kindness of Signor Cara, the Curator, who was so obliging as to show me also his cabinet of antiques at his private residence,—rich in cameos, intaglios, and scarabei of rare beauty. The Royal Museum occupies a suite of small apartments in the University. The collection owes great part of its objects of interest, and their good order and arrangement, to the indefatigable zeal and disinterested devotion of Signor Cara, whose appointments, and the allowance for purchasing objects, are not unworthy of a liberal government.

The collection of Roman antiquities occupying the entrance-wall is very meagre, considering the many stations established in the island during the republic and empire. Besides two colossal consular statues, having an air of dignity, and with the toga well chiselled, there was little to observe but some Roman milestones, sarcophagi, and fragments of various kinds.

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 face97, 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.

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