Fig. 112.—THE HARBOUR OF TARANTO.

Scale 1 : 208,000.

The western peninsula of Naples is far better irrigated than that of Otranto, but this advantage is counterbalanced to a large extent by the mountainous nature of the country, and by its frequent earthquakes. Potenza, a town at the very neck of this peninsula, half-way between the Gulf of Taranto and the Bay of Salerno, most happily situated as a place of commerce, has repeatedly been destroyed by earthquakes, and its inhabitants have only ventured to rebuild it in a temporary manner.

The famous old cities of Calabria, such as Metapontum and Heraclea, have ceased to exist. Sybaris the powerful, with walls six miles in circumference, and suburbs extending for eight miles along the Crati, is now covered with alluvium and shrubs—“its very ruins have perished.” The city of the Locri, to the south of Gerace, which existed until the tenth century, when it was destroyed by the Saracens, has at least retained ruins of its walls, temples, and other buildings. {309} The only one of these old cities still in existence is Cotrone, the ancient Crotona, the “gateway to the granary of Calabria.” In travelling along the coasts of Greater Greece we feel astonished at the few ruins of a past which exercised so powerful an influence upon the history of mankind.

The existing towns of Calabria cannot compare in importance with those of a past age. Rossano, near the site of Sybaris, is the small capital of a district, and is visited only by coasters. Cosenza, in the beautiful valley of the Crati, at the foot of the wooded Sila, keeps up its communications with Naples and Messina through the harbour of Paola. Catanzaro exports its oil, silk, and fruit either by way of the Bay of Squillace, on the shores of which Hannibal once pitched his camp, or through Pizzo, a small port at the southern extremity of the Bay of Santa Eufemia. Reggio, nestling in groves of lemon and orange trees at the foot of the Aspromonte, is the most important town of Calabria. It stands on the narrow strait separating the mainland from the island of Sicily, and could not fail to absorb some of the commerce passing through that central gateway of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean. Messina and Reggio mutually complement each other, and the prosperity of the one must result in that of the sister city.[106]

VII.—SICILY.

The Trinacria of the ancients, the island with the “three promontories,” is clearly a dependency of the Italian peninsula, from which it is separated by a narrow arm of the sea. The Strait of Messina, where narrowest, is not quite two miles in width. It can be easily crossed in barges, and, with the resources at our command, a bridge might easily be thrown across it, similar enterprises having succeeded elsewhere. It can hardly be doubted that before the close of this century either a tunnel or a bridge will join Sicily to the mainland, and human industry will thus restore in some way the isthmus which formerly joined the Cape of Faro to the Italian Aspromonte. We know nothing about the period when this rupture took place, but to judge from the ancient name of the strait—Heptastadion—it must have been much narrower in former times.[107] {310}

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Fig. 113.—THE STRAIT OF MESSINA.