There is therefore a less distance viâ Brindisi than viâ Marseilles of 103 miles; than viâ Southampton of 1,000 miles; but, as Captain Tyler says—“Apart from contingencies, which must be always greater by sea than by land conveyance, the speed on a railway is usually double that at sea,” hence the captain strongly recommends the Brindisi route, not only on account of its being the shortest between London and Alexandria, but likewise because the land portion exceeds that viâ Marseilles by 644 miles, and that viâ Southampton by 1,399 miles. As a question of time, the computation made is as follows:—Southampton fifteen days, Marseilles eight days one hour, Brindisi six days seven hours.[143]
The contrast between the weight of the Eastern mails carried in 1850 and at the present time is marvellous. Then the annual number of boxes despatched, the average weight of each of which was about 60 lbs., was under 2,500; in 1867 it is at the rate of 25,152. It is true that since 1858 the Australian mails are conveyed by the overland route—they are only despatched once a month, both viâ Southampton and viâ Marseilles, but then they form nearly two-thirds of the total weight of the mails; they swell the number of boxes from the average of 524 to 1,347.
But we must ask our reader to continue his land journey a little further south than Brindisi, just for a moment, so that he may get to Leece, twenty-five miles. This is as far as he can go by railway towards Otranto, twenty-nine miles farther at the very extremity of the heel of the boot of Italy, the Castle of which used, in the days of our boyhood, thanks to Horace Walpole, to enchain, enchant, delight and to terrify us. We feel bound to acknowledge the fact that we are exactly forty-five years older than we were forty-five years ago. We fear we must also confess to a sense of terror about Otranto that can only cease with our own cessation. We are therefore not surprised that even Captain Tyler, stout, resolute and brave as he is, did not wish to go to Otranto. “I did not,” says Captain Tyler in his report of 1866, “even consider it worth while to visit Otranto, although I made a personal inspection of all the other Italian Ports to which I have referred, as well as those of Naples and Genoa.” In other words, Captain Tyler visited every Italian Port except one, and that one was Hob-gob-lin!
The connection of the Ferovia Meridionale with the net-work of the Calabro-Sicula is effected by means of a branch given off at Bari, half way between Foggia and Brindisi, and running for seventy-two miles south to Tarento, situated at the very top of the front of Italy’s heel. Whilst Brindisi is intended to be the commercial port of Italy towards its southern extremity, Tarento is to be its great southern port for military purposes. The extent and depth of the outer harbour, its great natural advantage in a military as well as in a naval point of view, and the extent of the “seno interno” or inner expanse of deep water, render it admirably applicable for a naval arsenal. It will therefore eventually fulfil for Italy the purposes which Plymouth fulfils for England, while Spezzia on the Mediterranean, half way between Genoa and Leghorn, may be considered as Italy’s Portsmouth.
The main-land as well as the Sicilian portions of the Calabro-Sicula are at the present time very much longer on paper than on terra firma. The longest of the Calabrian sections is, when completed, to extend from Tarento all along the undersole of Italy as well as to the ball of the foot, and thence to its very tip-toe at Reggio, a distance of 300 miles; but although ten years have elapsed since the railway works were taken in hand, only the ten miles nearest to Reggio have as yet been completed. As, however, the Italian Government has recently made a loan of £720,000 to the company, the works are carried on actively, and it is probable that half-way in 1868 (portions perhaps earlier) 127 miles, in two sections, of which one from Tarento westward will be 90 miles, and the other will extend the line from Reggio 47 miles, will be ready for traffic. Of the remaining 163 miles to complete the continuous railway tie along the sole of Italy, some slight progress has been made on 56 miles, none on 107.
In reply to a question put by us to a gentleman of the administration of the company, to whom we are mainly indebted for the foregoing information, “Quando sar[=a] terminata la Linea—Tarento—Reggio?” we were told, “Non è dato respondere a questa domanda senza conoscere di quali mezzi la societa potrà disporre;” and we received precisely the same answer in respect of the Sicilian lines of the company.
The distance between Reggio and Messina is exactly 7½ miles. As we are here on the dominions of Scylla and Charybdis, it is no wonder that the steamers of the company, which ply backwards and forwards in connection with its trains, are often impeded by the numerous currents and the heavy gusts of wind that prevail in the Straits of Messina. Nevertheless, the passage from port to port is usually made in less than an hour, although at times the navigation is so difficult and dangerous, that, in winter, the Royal Postal Steamers of the Italian Government are occasionally unable to land their mails at Reggio, and are compelled to carry them on to their next port of call.
We live in an age of wonders. M. Oudry, one of the engineers of the Ponts et Chaussées of France, proposes to cross over the Straits of Messina with a suspension bridge of four spans, each 1,000 metres, or 3,281 feet long. The bridge (which is to be made available for railways) would thus be 4,200 metres, or two miles and five-eighths long, exclusive of the great sustaining piers at each edge of the water. M. Oudry selects this width in preference to the narrowest part of the Straits, which is 3,200 metres, exactly two miles wide, because at the spot of his selection the depth of his two central piers, under water, would he only 110 metres; whereas, if he took the narrowest part of the Straits, his two piers must be of the under-water depth of 130.