Presently a horn sounded, and a coach came thundering down the hill,—the diligence on its daily service between the two capitals. The vehicle was double-bodied, well horsed, and, altogether, a superior turn-out. We took the opportunity of its pulling up for a moment to bespeak beds at Sassari. After amusing ourselves with a scene of life on the road not often witnessed in Sardinia,—having already lunched in our voiture on a basket of grapes, with bread, and a bottle of the excellent white wine of Oristano,—we sauntered up the course of the rivulet to its source, at the foot of a rock among the woods. There we drank of the clear fountain, and washed; bees humming among the flowers, as in the height of the summer, and the gabble from the roadside below, coming up mixed with the cries of the carrier's fierce dogs. The spot commanded charming views of Monte Santo and the far-stretching campagna beneath.
Pursuing our route, the country assumed a peculiar aspect from the number of the flat-topped hills, swelling in green slopes out of the plains which spread before us in long sweeps. These vividly green hillocks are probably the craters of long extinct volcanoes, as we were now in the line, and near the centre, of that wide igneous action mentioned in a former chapter. There were signs of more extensive cultivation than we had hitherto observed, and the evident fertility of the soil left no doubt on the mind of its powers of production under a better system. Large flocks of sheep were feeding in every direction; this being the season for their being driven from the mountains for pasture and shelter in the teeming plains. Sardinia remains still in that pastoral state, which, however picturesque to the eyes of the traveller, as well as suited to the indolent habits of the Sarde peasant, must yield to agricultural progress, or, at least, be reduced within due bounds, before the soil of the island can be made the source of that wealth which, with proper cultivation, large portions of it are naturally fitted to yield. Sardinia will continue to be poor and uncivilised while vast tracts of country are open to almost promiscuous and lawless commonage, and while the occupation of the shepherd, with all its hardships, is esteemed preferable and more honourable than that of the tiller of the soil.
After this, we got among hills bounding the plain in the neighbourhood of Florinas and Campo di Mela. The country became rugged, and, after crossing a river, over a still perfect Roman bridge, of several arches, with massive substructions of large square stones, which we alighted to examine, there commenced a steep ascent, winding among woods. We walked up it by moonlight, our driver's bugle echoing that of a diligence which preceded us at some distance in mounting the pass. Sassari was entered by an arched and embattled gateway in the square-towered wall surrounding the place; and, passing through the best quarter of the town, the dark mass of the citadel contrasting well with the white façades and lofty colonnades of the neighbouring houses, we were set down at the Albergo di Progresso, opposite the great convent of St. Pietro, one of the richest of the many religious houses of which Sassari once boasted. The accommodations at the hotel were the best we enjoyed in the island.
Sassari, the second city of Sardinia, containing a population of some 30,000 souls, has always been a jealous rival of Cagliari, the metropolis, boasting an independent history of its own, of which it has just pretensions to be proud. It was an insignificant village till the inhabitants of Porto-Torres,—the ancient Turris Libysonis, founded on the neighbouring coast by the Greeks, and colonised by the Romans,—were driven by the incursions of the Saracen corsairs, and, finally, by the ruin of their town by the Genoese, in 1166, to seek a refuge further inland. They established themselves at Sassari, where the long street, still called Turritana, was named from the new settlers. In 1441, the archiepiscopal see and chapter of St. Gavino, near Porto-Torres, were translated to Sassari by Pope Eugenius IV., and thenceforward it rivalled the metropolis in opulence and power. When, in the thirteenth century, the Genoese occupied the northern division of the island, Sassari became a republic, entering into an alliance, offensive and defensive, with that of Genoa. The articles of the treaty are a curious amalgamation of independence assumed by the one, and of interference and jurisdiction claimed by the other. The general effect was, that the Sassarese accepted annually from the Genoese a Podesta, who swore fidelity to their constitution; and the Sassarese assert that while their city was under the protection of Genoa, they only styled that haughty republic in their statutes and diplomas, “Mater et Magistra, sed non Domina:” “non Signora, ma Amica.”
Mutual quarrels induced a rupture of the alliance in 1306, and on the Arragonese kings advancing pretensions to the sovereignty of the island, the Sassarese made a voluntary transfer of their allegiance to Diego II. of Arragon, who, in return, guaranteed their rights and privileges; and Sassari continued to be governed as a republic long after the Spanish conquest in 1325. The city, however, suffered severely during the protracted contests between the Genoese, Pisans, and the Giudici of Arborea, for the expulsion of the Spaniards; sustaining no less than ten sieges, courageously defended, in the short interval between 1332 and 1409. It continued to be the victim of contending parties till 1420, when for the last time, and after a struggle of nearly a hundred years, it fell into the hands of Alfonso V., who conferred on it the title of “Città Reale.” In the middle of the fifteenth century it flourished both commercially and politically, enjoying privileges beyond any other town in the island. From this power and prosperity arose its rivalry with Cagliari; and the jealousies and dissensions in matters of government, religion, and education, surviving the transference of the sovereignly to the House of Savoy, have descended from generation to generation.
This feeling prevails to the present day, partly owing, perhaps, to the circumstance of society in Sassari being less under the influence of Piedmontese and Continental opinions than in the capital, Cagliari,—and partly to the Sassarese population being mostly of Genoese extraction. The descendants of these settlers having almost all the trade, commerce, and employment in their hands, form a very important and influential middle class. I found at Sassari opinions more distinctly pronounced on the abuses of the government, and the necessity of reforms in the various branches of the administration, than I have reason to believe they are in the more courtly circles of Cagliari. Some numbers of a work, in course of publication, were put into my hands during our stay at Sassari, in which these topics were discussed in a sensible, bold, but temperate style.[72] Though written by a foreigner, a Venetian refugee, I have no doubt, from the manner in which it was spoken of by well-informed persons, and from its having reached a second edition, that it may be accepted as representing the opinions of a large class of the Sassarese, and I imagine of Sardes in general.
Much interest attaches to the working of the constitutional system in the Sardinian dominions, not only politically, but in its effects on the social and economical condition of the country. Hitherto the island of Sardinia has been treated by the cabinet of Turin much as it was long the misfortune of the English government to deal with Ireland; regarding the native race as a conquered, but turbulent, impracticable and semi-barbarous people; the consequences of such misrule being poverty, disaffection and bloodshed. But I trust we see the dawn of brighter days, when this fine island, partaking of the benefits following in the train of constitutional government,—its wrongs redressed, its great natural resources developed, and the natural genius and many virtues of its inhabitants being cultivated and having free scope,—will be no insignificant jewel in the crown which assumed its regal title from this insular possession.
With our own happy country in the van of political, social, and material progress, there are three secondary European states, which, in our own memory, have raised the banner of freedom, and are consistently marching under it with firm, vigorous, and well-poised steps. It need hardly be explained that we speak of Norway, Belgium, and Sardinia.[73] Occupying, geographically and politically, important positions ranging, at wide intervals, from the far north to the extreme south of Europe, these small, flourishing, and well-ordered states, offer a spectacle as full of hope and encouragement to all lovers of constitutional liberty, as it must necessarily be offensive to the despotic governments of the great continental monarchies, on whose thresholds the altars of freedom, newly lighted, have burnt with so steady and pure a flame. They may serve as beacon-lights to European populations gasping for that political regeneration, the hour of which will assuredly come, and may not be far distant.
Of the state and prospects of the kingdom of Norway,[74] we have treated in another work. The democratic element is so predominant in its constitutional code, that the only fear was lest it should clash with the executive functions of even a limited monarchy. But, hitherto, the natural good sense, patriotism, and loyalty of the Norwegian people, though represented in a Storthing of peasant farmers,—and we may add, the moderation displayed by the Bernadotte dynasty,—have so obviated the difficulties of a hastily formed, and somewhat crude, code of fundamental laws, that it has been harmoniously worked to the great benefit of the nation. In Belgium, notwithstanding religious antagonisms, which have also perplexed the young councils of Sardinia, the constitutional system has been so consolidated, under the rule of a sagacious prince, that it may be hoped its permanence is secured. We need not speak of the rising fortunes of the Sardinian States, the only hope of fair Italy. The eyes of Europe are upon them; they are closely watched by friends and foes. Our business at present is, not with the political, but with the social and material, condition of the insular kingdom which forms a valuable portion of those singularly aggregated dominions. In a work devoted to a survey of the island, even a passing traveller may be pardoned for pausing in his narrative while he collects some cursory notices of its present condition under these aspects, and its requirements for improvement.
All enlightened Sardes with whom we conversed unite with Signor Sala, who has devoted several sections of his work to the subject, in representing the corruption and other abuses pervading the administration of justice in Sardinia, as lying at the root of its greatest social evil. It is the ready excuse for rude justice, for private revenge, for the assertion of the rights of persons or of things by the strong hand, that the laws are inoperative, or iniquitously administered. There is too much reason to believe that this has been the normal state of Sardinia under all its rulers for ages past. And when at the same time we find the natural instincts of the people to be turbulent and lawless, and prone to theft and robbery, and consider the facilities afforded by a wild, mountainous, and densely wooded country, for the commission of crimes of violence, the scenes of bloodshed and rapine by which it has been desolated, are not to be wondered at. In the absence of a vigorous justice, and a sufficient military or police force for the protection of property, a voluntary association sprung up, consisting of armed men, under the name of Barancelli, who, for a sort of black mail paid by the peasants, undertook to recover their stolen cattle, or indemnify them for the loss. They fell, however, into disrepute, and I believe have been disbanded. Banditism has been finally and effectually extinguished in Corsica, as related in a former part of this work, by a total disarmament of the population, without respect of persons, or of the purposes for which fire-arms may be properly required. So stern a measure is neither suited to the genius of the Sardes or their rulers. With a numerous resident gentry, who, with their retainers, and the great mass of the population, are passionately fond of the chase, and with wastes so stocked with destructive wild animals, the total prohibition of fire-arms must be both unpopular and impolitic. The law, however, requires that no one shall carry them without a license. But it is not, or cannot be, enforced, for we saw them in every one's hands.