Cagliari Crossroads

From Barcelona in ancient Aragon, it is a 340 NM sail to Cagliari, here in southern Sardinia. A further 340 NM trip eastwards, gets you to the ancient eastern Sicilian cities of Messina or Syracusa in the Ionian Sea. And then onto Greece and the Levant.

From the ancient naval power base of Genoa in the north, it is also 340 NM to Cagliari. Pisa is a bit closer. But you only have to travel a further 140 NM south from Cagliari to get to ancient Carthage, close to modern Tunis. In fact, Tunisia is closer to us than the nearest point in north-west Sicily, which is our next destination and only a 170 NM sail away.

As the Moors, or Saracens, or Barbary pirates, were never too far way to cause problems for the sailors or the city folk of the island, defence and fortification was always going to be important.

So, Cagliari is at an important junction; it was of strategic importance in the trade route between Italy and North Africa, and later a key safe harbour in the east-west Route des Isles trade.

As usual in the 7/8th century BC, Karalis (as it was then known) was a Phoenician colony, and located by a marsh just west of the later town.

The Carthaginians took control in the 6th century BC, and fortified an area in the Marina quarter, near to where Missy Bear is berthed. Their necropolis still exists, and can be visited by the public.

The Romans also used the necropolis after they took control of Caralis in 238 BC, following the Punic Wars. They expanded the settlement to the east. The lagoon – Stagno di Cagliari – also offered the Romans a safe inner harbour. One of the Roman’s legacies is a 10,000-seat amphitheatre, that has also just about survived, and which we can also visit.

After the fall of the western Roman empire, the Vandals briefly controlled the area, but in 1020 Cagliari became an independent state (or Judicate) within the Byzantine empire.

The Pisans coveted the island, and their Republic gained increasing control of the island and the city. They eventually conquered the independent state in 1258. They moved the centre of the settlement further east, inland and onto higher ground. And they fortified the city, known as Castel di Castro. They built white limestone towers at points in the city walls, such as the Elephant Tower and the Tower of San Pancrazio; well Pisans would, wouldn’t they? They also built fine churches, such as the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta and Santa Cecilia.

Then, as we already know, the army of the Crown of Aragon arrived. During the siege of the Pisan Castel di Castro, Alfonso IV camped on a more southerly hill and named it Bonaria (or ‘good air’), because the air was fresher, being further from the stagnant marshes or lagoons to the east and west. I find it staggering, after seeing the Castel di Castro, how an invading army could take it. But Alfonso did.

After their defeat, the Pisans were expelled and replaced with Catalonian settlers from nearby Bonaria. Bonaria was donated by Alfonso to the Mercedarian friars, who had a sanctuary there dedicated to ‘Our Lady’, i.e., Mary the Madonna. The friars still live and work there today.

The kings of Aragon and later the kings of Spain, were represented in Cagliari by a viceroy, who resided in the Royal Palace. We know, from an earlier blog (‘Why the Catalans always feel different’), that Sardinia was ceded by the Spanish in the Treaty of Utrecht, and control eventually passed to the House of Savoy, who became the Kings of Sardinia. Although Sardinian by name, the kingdom had its parliament in Turin, where the rulers resided.

During the Napoleonic wars of the late 18th century, France tried to conquer Cagliari, again because of its strategic role in the Mediterranean Sea. The French army was defeated by the Sardinians, who hoped to win concessions from Savoy as a result. When the Savoyards refused, the inhabitants of Cagliari rebelled – now celebrated on ‘The day of Sardinia’ in April - but the Savoyards soon regained control, before Sardinia became part of the unified Italy in 1871.

Cagliari prospered at the end of the 19th century and many Art Nouveau buildings were erected. Allied bombing in 1943 damaged 80% of the buildings, but many fine examples remain.

So, let’s take Alix to take a look and see what we find in this ancient Mediterranean crossroads.

MISSY BEAR'S CREW’S TOUR OF CAGLIARI

I appointed myself as chief tour guide for Cagliari. I had only one guest, Alix, and she wasn’t paying. As well as not paying money, I’m not sure she was paying attention either. It was hot though!

I decided to organise a tour by foot through the historical, architectural layers of Cagliari: from Carthaginian; to Roman; to Pisan; to Aragonese; to Spanish; and finally, to turn-of-the-century Art Nouveau. It sounds heavy, I admit. I think Amanda would have appreciated it. No, what I mean is that Amanda would have done a far better job, and probably knew all the stuff already, being a graduate of the history of art.

Carthaginian

Tuvixeddu necropolis.

We set off in the morning to the Tuvixeddu necropolis. The original Carthaginian settlement was a way to the east of us, overlooking the marshes/lagoon to the east, where they probably moored their boats safely away from the open sea.

The site is on the eastwards slope of a limestone hill. It has been damaged heavily by subsequent quarrying, but the remaining individual tombs are numerous. They are quite remarkable in that they are hewn out of the hard bare rock, as if cut by machine and not chiselled by hand. They are rectangular and deep; several metres! You can only peer into them from the top, but if you were to climb down inside, you would enter one or two rooms, where the bodies would have been interred. These rooms would have been painted and decorated, and would have contained amphora and phials of liquids. The ancients definitely treated their well-being in the after-life very seriously. I get the feeling that you had to be monied or important to be interred here.

When the Romans kicked the Carthagians out, in about 238 BC, the Romans continued to use the site as a necropolis.

Roman

Roman theatre

We hadn’t had breakfast yet and it was 11-ish. So, we found a friendly local café and had a toasted sandwich. I made the classic Englishman-abroad-in-Italy mistake of ordering a latte. And I ended up with a glass of hot milk, with no caffeine at all. So, I ordered a double-espresso, and tipped it in. I’m not sure what the bar owner thought, but he smiled sympathetically.

We climbed the hilly street, passed a popular municipal botanic garden, and eventually came to the entrance to the Roman Amphitheatre. We paid our 3 Euros entrance fee, after proving we had been vaccinated by showing our Italian “Green Pass” app on our iPhones (well done Alix for sorting that out). For our money, we got access to a 50m long path, that ended abruptly before we could get anywhere close to the monument. In fact, you could probably see as much from the street above, through the fence. Never mind.

The Romans, as ever, had picked a fine spot; a natural bay in the limestone, facing the lagoon below in the distance. They cut into the rock, and then faced it with cut limestone blocks for the cages, underground corridors and audience seating, etc. As with the necropolis, subsequent quarrying and robbing of the stone had done a lot of damage. But the overall sense and feel of the place as a stadium with a fine prospect, was still easily appreciated.

Pisan

Pisan Elephant Tower

We now jump about 7-800 years now, to the time when the Pisans overthrew the king of the Byzantine Judicate. The latter may have made their mark architecturally, but not much remains, because the Pisans literally razed the old town to the ground. They then built a fortified new city on higher ground, just to the west. It is called the Castel di Castro. And very impressive and imposing it is too.

As the northern section was quite close to the amphitheatre, I persuaded Alix that we could in fact continue immediately with the next leg of our historical journey. She was hot and thirsty, so I allowed her a bottle of water, and a shady bench, before we pressed on [Alix: gee thanks].

The top of the hill is indeed lofty, and offers fantastic panoramic views across the sea to the south, the marshes to the east and west, and the fertile plains to the north. Modern urban sprawl and industrialisation have changed the landscape greatly, but I could easily imagine how fine those views would have been a Millenia ago.

We entered the fortified medieval city’s wall through the (relatively new) Porta Cristina and into the Arsenal area. The highly acclaimed Museum of Archaeology is here, but I am saving that visit for Alix for another day. She will be very pleased! [Alix: I will be delighted, I have set my alarm for early in the morning].

We immediately found one of the two remaining Pisan towers – The Tower of San Pancrazio. These towers are of white limestone, and were placed at various locations in the wall as lookouts. They often doubled-up as fortified entrances, with raisable portcullis gates. Interestingly, they are square in section, but only fortified on three sides. The fourth side always faces inwards to a square, and is open, the massive timbers of the internal stages or floors being clearly visible.

Inner wall of Pisan towers are open to the square.

We walked along elegant city streets - lined with buildings of the more classical architecture of a later period - towards the Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta and Santa Cecilia. The façade reminded me of Florence churches, but it is of Pisan style, of course. It is entirely re-faced in the modern era, but the design is faithful to the original. We entered, not solely to experience the atmosphere and reverence as we normally do, but to escape the heat.

I always find that my lack of knowledge of art history and of the catholic saints, seriously limits my enjoyment of such places. The artwork is often fine, but beyond commonly known scenes, such as the crucifixion, the Madonna and child, the assumption of Mary etc, I find myself staring at a huge painting with little clue as to who the characters are, nor what is going off. As a child brought up in a Methodist chapel, icons and art work were none-existent.

Anyway, now cooled, we re-entered the piazza and decided to have another beverage, before pressing onto the Elephant Tower, named purely because there is a sculpture of an elephant some way up its outer face. I’m not sure why there is an elephant; the Pisans may have used it as a religious motif, because in the middle-ages, elephants – that give birth in water – were used as a symbol of baptism. Apparently, when the Aragonese took the city, they used the towers as houses for the wealthy.

At this point, Alix was finished mentally, and made a plea to return to Missy Bear to relax. I demurred, promising to continue the tour into the 14th century tomorrow. She looked excited…

Aragonese

Sanctuary and later church at Bonaria.

As we know, Alfonso IV of Aragon conquered Cagliari after a long siege staged from his base on a hill further south, which he called ‘Bonaria’. Alfonso built a small sanctuary (an early Sardinian example of Gothic-Catalan architecture, Amanda) during the siege, and donated to the Mercedarian friars. The friars built their convent next to the sanctuary.

Legend has it that on March 25, 1370, an Iberian ship traveling towards Italy, was hit by a bad storm. The captain ordered that all the cargo be thrown overboard to save the crew. This did not help, until someone noticed that there was still one large crate in the hold. This too was jettisoned, and suddenly the storm ceased as soon as the crate hit the water! The ship attempted to regain the crate, but in vain, and then returned to its original course.

The crate ran aground on the beach at the foot of the hill at Bonaria. The locals on the beach, found it but could not open it. They could not even lift it. So, they sent for the Mercedarian friars, who carried it into their sanctuary. The friars opened the crate and saw in it a statue of the Virgin Mary with the child in her arms. And there was a lighted candle in her right hand!

So, I dragged Alix to see the sanctuary today. It was hot, and it was a long walk. In the piazza to the front, there is a bronze statue of the ship fighting the winds, with the Madonna watching over it. But when we got to the sanctuary door, it was closed. Whoops! A quick Google search told me that it would be open in half an hour, so we sat in the shade of a nearby public garden, and gazed from Bonaria towards the Castel on the adjacent hill, just as Alfonso must have done 650 years before.

The doors were opened by the friars a couple of minutes early, and we entered the sanctuary.

The Virgin Mary.

The statue replica was in the apse ahead, and we were even able to go behind the alter right up to it. The Virgin is carrying sailing ship in her right hand.

The Virgin Mary with the child in her arms and a lighted candle in her right hand.

We passed from the sanctuary into the much larger main church, to the right of the sanctuary, construction of which commenced in 1704. It has another replica of the statue, and has large colourful, painted murals behind the alter of the fabled events of 1370. The church was damaged by allied bombs during the war, but repaired, and then restored in the late 20th century.

We then passed into the convent, which is a remarkable place. The friars still mill around in their white robes in a dark wood panelled room, which is adorned with models of sailing ships of all flags and nationalities.

The mariners' shrine in the monastery.

In the cloisters, the walls are covered with pictures of sailors - and their ships - who have perished at sea. In short it is a shrine to sailors, and reminded us of the chapel in Bologna that is a shrine to fallen Italian airmen. Alix and I both said a prayer for Missy Bear – you can’t stop yourself!

Another useless fact for you brave readers, is that Buenos Aires in Argentina - where Alix and I have danced the Argentine Tango! (badly) - was named by the Spanish conquistadores in honour of the Virgin of Bonaria. They were sailors as well!

And there, behind a glass screen, was the wooden cask. The wooden cask that had been thrown from the Iberian ship, floated to the shore nearby and been carried by these friars’ forebears to their sanctuary. It has bits missing, allegedly because other sailors had borrowed pieces to throw them into the sea in any future storm, to save themselves. Who knows?

The wooden cask.

I tried to get a piece, but the glass cabinet was impregnable. (Just kidding).

It is a lovely place for any sailor to visit, and I highly recommend it. My sole guest even grudgingly admitted that it had been quite interesting, but she knew she had a long hot walk to get to our next tour destination – the Spanish Hapsburg the Savoyard era. If such an era exists.

Spanish/Hapsburg

I guided Alix down one large hill and then guided (trudged) her up another higher and steeper one, back to the Castel area. What wonder awaited her?

The Spanish oversaw their Kingdom of Sardinia, through their Viceroy, who lived in a grand building in the centre of the Castel area, that had been founded in Alfonso’s time. The ‘Royal Palace’ was thoroughly modified through the ages, right up to the rule of the Savoyards.

The Spanish Royal Palace

Its rooms are of large scale and proportion appropriate for such an important building. The rooms tend to be decorated by ornate wallpapers and hung with the portraits of all the Viceroys from about 1715 onwards.

A viceroy of Sardinia.

The early ones look like sensible chaps (see image above), but the later Savoyards look quite pompous and supercilious in their wigs, ballooning shorts and silk stockings. The council room is very impressive with an elaborately decorated ceiling. But was it worth the walk?

Well, I received no tip. [Alix: tip… next time organise the tour by location, rather than by chronology 😉]

I was hoping to continue the tour tomorrow into the modern era. But Alix says we have to go to the launderama. And she might need to get a haircut.