In this cruize we have had a view of Ithaca, in which we were told at Zante, the foundation of Ulysses' Palace is still to be traced. His island is now called Little Cephalonia, is about twenty miles long, appears very barren, but is said to be well peopled, though with a very vile race. Zante and the greater Cephalonia also belonged to Ulysses, and are both described by the ancients, as being remarkably fertile. The latter is by much the largest, the former the most productive.
A little to the north of Ithaca, in the Island of St. Mauro, is the famous Promontory of Leucate, the Lover's Leap, celebrated by the Spectator, in his beautiful panegyric on the tender Sappho. Even Venus herself is said to have been led there by Apollo, to be cured of her passion for Adonis.
October 16th.
Wind again contrary. Tacking off Zante, to get into a small bay, where there is a curious spring, from which a great quantity of tar oozes; but not being able to gain the anchorage before sunset, and the wind becoming fair for our course, we stood to the south, and in the night passed the Strophades, a set of small low islands, where Æneas was attacked by the Harpies.
It was not without regret that I passed by Zante, without landing there. It was the only place in the Venetian territories we had any chance of visiting, and I wished much to see the effect of a Government, in which Despotism, in the form of a Republic, makes her votaries believe that Tyranny is Liberty. But by what I could learn from the traders, and a few other people, to whom I had an opportunity of speaking, the police is really shocking.
The Governors are generally needy men, but, by accepting fines as a remission for murder, they are soon enriched, perhaps by the ruin of the widow and the orphan.--Is your husband assassinated--your father murdered? Dry up your tears--your Governor is three guineas richer. Do you remonstrate? For three guineas more you may let loose all the demons of revenge.
Thus one murder produces another; whole families are involved in destruction, or at best live in perpetual alarms; justice never interferes, and society is of course destroyed.
Whilst reflections of this kind distress the Philanthrope who visits Zante, the naturalist finds the tar spring an object well worthy his curiosity. The trade of the island is also a subject on which I should like to be better informed. On an average, the annual produce in currants is ten million pounds weight. Almost the whole of which, besides nearly the same quantity brought from Cephalonia, and the adjacent parts of the Morea, are taken by the English, who load thirty vessels every year.
This trade, however, seems to be a very losing one to us, since our productions have no sale at Zante, and the tin, lead, alum, and a few other articles which we carry to Venice, bear no proportion in value to the fruit we bring home.
It is true, our revenue is considerably increased by a duty of twenty-three pounds sterling on every ton of currants, which is one half as much again as the prime cost, the common price at Zante being fifteen guineas. But this tax is railed upon ourselves, and does not check the importation of this foreign commodity, since we consume three-fourths of what the island yields. It might, therefore, as well be levied on some of our own productions, as on our hereditary plumb-pudding.