DEPARTURE FROM ZARA—SEBENICO—PLEASANT COMPANIONS—NOBLE HARBOUR—THE CATHEDRAL—CURIOUS ROOF—CORAL FISHERY—SPALATO—SALONA—DIOCLETIAN'S PALACE—MR. PATON'S DESCRIPTION OF IT—BEAUTIFUL SPECTACLE—THE PORTA FERREA—QUAINT DWELLINGS—AMBROSIAL TOBACCO.
AT about one o'clockp.m.we steamed away from Zara while we were at dinner, and at fivep.m.reached Sebenico. Should I ever travel again in that part of the world, I think I should try to go from Zara to Sebenico by land in order to see the ruins of Asseria, which I learnt afterwards were well worth a visit; but the journey should in that case be undertaken earlier in the year, to avoid the oppressive heats.
The afternoon between leaving Zara and arriving at Sebenico passed quickly away, for I had the advantage of two most agreeable companions; one the capuchin monk, the other a charming young fellow, an officer in an Austrian Jäger regiment, Baron Heyd von Heydeg.
The Capuchin was a most interesting man, and we chatted many an hour together by moonlight on the deck, when every one else had gone to sleep, when I used to chaff him about the rules of his order, which forbid the smoking of tobacco, while they permit the use of snuff without any restriction. He used to take it most good-humouredly, and laughed as if his sides would split when I would refuse to take a pinch of his snuff unless he smoked one of my cigarettes. I verily think I should have brought him round at last, had he not been constantly under the surveillance, and in mortal "soggezione" of his lay brother.
Heyd was a different fellow altogether, but most agreeable. He was going to join his regiment, then quartered at Budua. We travelled together as far as Cattaro, and I met him subsequentlyboth at Cettigne and Budua, where I went expressly to pay him a visit.
The time sped swiftly and most agreeably in spite of the heat, and at five o'clockp.m.we steamed through the narrow tortuous opening, bordered by steep rocky sides, which leads into the bay, at the further end of which stands Sebenico. It is a noble harbour, and so deep that a frigate can lie alongside the quay. At the narrowest part of its entrance, the approach is defended by what a few years ago would have been considered a masterpiece of fortification, but which at present would offer too fair a target to our projectiles to afford any great protection against an enemy. It is still worth a visit, as its casemates are perhaps among the finest in the world. It was engineered and built in 1546, by the celebrated architect San Micheli. The entrance to the fortress is surmounted by the usual Venetian Lion with the following inscription:—
"Pax tibi Marce Evangelista meus."[4]
"Pax tibi Marce Evangelista meus."[4]
"Pax tibi Marce Evangelista meus."[4]
Having landed with Baron Heyd, who had been quartered there some time before, for cicerone, I proceeded to inspect the Duomo, or cathedral, the principal object of interest there. Some people are lost in admiration of this cathedral, I really could not see much about it to admire, and the two statues on its façade representing Adam and Eve (they might as well be Gog and Magog) are simply detestable. But the roof of the cathedral is a curiosity in itself, and worth the journey. It is of its kind unique, and though it is said to be perfectly safe, and I suppose must be so, having continued so for so many years, still I could not help feeling a sense of insecurity as long as I was in the church, and enjoyed great relief when I finally came out of it.
This roof is simply a semi-cylinder made of enormous slabs of stone joined edge to edge, but so beautifully adapted and fitted one into the other that, without any other support save what they afford each other, they form the vault of thiscathedral. I trust they may never crack; but I, for one, could never say my prayers with comfort under such a roof.
Having taken a ramble through the streets, which were clean and contained many fine mansions, we went up to the fort on the hill behind the town, and which commands the whole place, where we passed a pleasant hour with the officers of the garrison.
My time being limited, I was unable to make an expedition from Sebenico, which under different circumstances I should certainly have undertaken, that is to the falls of the Kerka and the monastery above them. My friend, the Capuchin, who had travelled a good deal both in Europe and America, and had a good eye for the picturesque, told me they were well worth seeing; but like many other interesting spots down that coast, I must only hope to visit them at some future time.
At dusk we returned to the steamer, though we knew it would not leave till the following morning early, and we could have spent a most pleasant night on shore; but Sebenico shuts itsgates at sunset, and then till the following sunrise no one can come in or go out, and had we attempted it we should only have lost our passage.
Having partaken of an excellent supper, I returned to the deck, where, as was my wont, I sat down beside my friend the Capuchin, who always took a cup of coffee with me though he would not consent to smoke. We chatted till very late, when he went down to hiscamerino, and I settled myself on deck as usual for my night's sleep. It turned out awfully hot, as the steamer remained till break of day in the harbour of Sebenico, but what must it have been in the cabin?
At the very earliest dawn we left our moorings, and steamed out of the harbour by its well guarded entrance. Just outside we passed a group of small islands, among which is established a considerable coral fishery. The coral is not however of the finest quality, mostly of the common deep red kind, and is principally sold on the spot or at the fair of Sinigaglia in the Romagna on the opposite or Italian side of the Adriatic.
The dawn was just merging into daylight, whenwe steamed out of that land-locked harbour. It had been stiflingly hot as long as we had lain still alongside the quay, but the moment we came out into the open sea, the
". . . .Aura messaggiera. . . .Ad annunziar che se ne vien l'Aurora,"
". . . .Aura messaggiera. . . .Ad annunziar che se ne vien l'Aurora,"
". . . .Aura messaggiera. . . .
Ad annunziar che se ne vien l'Aurora,"
came with a most refreshing breeze, so light, however, as not even to raise a "cat's paw" on the glassy waters, but still deliciously cool and invigorating.
The steward was not long manufacturing me a good cup of coffee, after which, having made myself comfortable in a capital arm-chair, I again went to sleep, not to awake until Giovanni summoned me again, "per far colazione."
In the course of the morning we reached Spalato, a beautiful and most interesting place, where an artist could with advantage spend many days. It was celebrated in ancient times for the gorgeous palace which the Emperor Diocletian built for himself after abdicating the Empire in 303a.d., and the magnificent remains of which still form the glory of the present city. After areign of twenty years, "Diocletian executed his memorable resolution of abdicating the Empire," and acquired the glory of giving to the world the most remarkable, if not the first, example of a resignation which has not been very frequently imitated by succeeding monarchs. Withdrawing to Salona, he passed the last nine years of his life in seclusion—the building of a palace in the neighbourhood, and the superintendence of his garden, occupying his leisure hours. The satisfaction he derived from these pursuits is sufficiently proved by his well-known answer to Maximian, when urging him to re-assume the purple, "If I could show you the cabbages I have planted with my own hands at Salona, you would no longer urge me to relinquish the enjoyment of happiness for the pursuit of power."
This immense palace, which covered very nearly nine English acres of ground, was almost a perfect square terminating at the four corners by a quadrangular tower. Its faces were directed as nearly as possible to the four cardinal points—the southern side being pointed to the shore and facing the sea. It still exists in good preservation and forms a grandobject of attraction to the visitor entering the harbour. Two streets intersected each other at right angles nearly in the centre of it, which has lately been completely excavated and is now fully exposed to view.
The following description by the late Mr. Paton (author of "Highlands and Islands of the Adriatic," one of the most charming books ever printed) will convey to the reader a far clearer impression than anything I could pen; I therefore make no apology for inserting it here, and whoever should wish to go still deeper into the matter and learn all that is to be learned concerning this palace, I refer him to Mr. Adams' book "Spalato Restored," which is a perfectly exhaustive treatise on the subject.
"At the outset we are struck with the enormous extent of the palace, which is not less than nine acres and a half; so that even Constantine Porphyrogenitus speaks of it with admiration, as one of the greatest edifices then extant. In the time of Diocletian, his great retinue and a pretorian cohort could be lodged with convenience in it. Sixteen towers gave strength and eleganceto the edifice, of which the largest were those at the four corners. The back of the edifice looked to the north-east on the land-side, and there was the principal entrance, the Porta Aurea, or golden gate, which led to the Peristylium, a great court of granite columns; and the cross street which intersected the principal passage at right angles was terminated at each end by gates, the one the Porta Ferrea, or iron gate, the other the Porta Ænea, or gate of brass, which are so called to this day.
"This peristylium, or court of granite columns, was flanked by two temples; the greater of Jupiter, and the smaller of Esculapius; the former, a lofty octagon, was ascended by a stair of fifteen steps; an uneven number being generally found in the temples of the ancients, that, beginning to move with the right foot, they might, of course, place it first upon the uppermost step in order to enter the temple—a form which was accounted respectful in approaching the Deity. From the peristylium, or court of granite columns, the Roman entered the principal inhabited part of the palace; first was the porticus of Corinthian order, then thecircular dome-covered vestibulum, with the Lares and Penates; then the atrium, or quadrangular hall, ninety-eight by forty-five with its arms and trophies dedicated to ancestry; and last of all the crypto-porticus, or grand gallery, looking to the south-west, thus facing the sea, and forming a noble promenade of five hundred and fifteen feet in length, in which, during the heat of Summer or inclemency of Winter, the Emperor could take exercise. This crypto-porticus was the principal feature of the palace, and the well-known taste of Diocletian leads us to suppose that the choicest statuary and paintings of the Old World must have adorned its walls. The relics of Pompeii give some idea of the classic fancy in ornament, the harmonizing contrasts in colour, and the consummate skill in tessellation employed in the domestic architecture of the ancients; and if we relieve these splendours with the latest fascination in the unpretending forms of Greek statuary, how puny is the utmost magnificence of Versailles compared with the dwelling of the retired Roman!
"Such was the Palace of Diocletian; what now remains of the edifice? The shell or outer wall,of which the best preserved part is the grand gallery facing the sea; for Spalato like its contemporary Baalbec being used as a fortification, the rough stone and mortar of the middle-age battlements surmount in many places the massive normal masonry of the Roman Empire.... Within the town, fragments of Roman architecture are scattered thickly enough, but so obscured and mingled with modern houses as to present a mass of confusion."
Did we stop short here, the reader might well imagine that beyond the shell, the walls which surrounded the palace, nothing has been preserved; such however is not the case, and I shall now endeavour to describe what I saw in Spalato the morning that I steamed into its harbour, when from the deck of my vessel I gazed on that sea studded all over with numberless boats spreading the most fantastic sails to the gentlest of breezes!
The prevailing form, if not the only one, was the lateen in all its varieties, most of the boats carrying but one. But such colours and such devices painted on them! things that would look simply outrageous at Cowes or Ryde, how lovely theyseemed there! Some were striped from above downwards with every colour of the rainbow, but only two colours to each sail and these always harmoniously contrasted; others of one uniform colour, with some fantastic ornament in sharp contrast in the middle; while some, all of one colour had at the topmost angle of the lateen a representation of the sun generally in burnished gold with its rays coming down a long way over the sail. The glittering golden sea, those fairy-looking boats gliding over it, the picturesque costumes of the sailors, the whole scene bathed in that golden light was a fit preparation for my introduction to the rare beauties of Spalato itself.
As we slowly approached the quay, there was ample time to admire the long façade of Diocletian's Palace, with the tall and elegant campanile which rises inside it on the right, and the strong hexagonal machicolated tower on the left. The lofty steeple on the right, a very Giralda of elegance and airiness—the dungeon on the left a sturdy emblem of the iron-fisted middle ages.
After some customary formalities, during which I feasted my eyes on the picturesque groups thatcrowded on the quay, permission was finally given to go ashore; when crossing as quickly as could be the narrow intervening space, I plunged through the Porta Ferrea into the vaulted passage which on this side gives entrance to the city of Spalato; and now commence the real difficulties of description, but having undertaken it I must only try, trusting to the kind forbearance of my readers.
This vaulted entrance is narrow, perhaps not twelve feet wide, but very lofty and formed of immense blocks of stone put together with wonderful accuracy. After following it a little way, it opens out into a spacious round hall rising up to a considerable height, this portion being unroofed; from it open out several streets, all running about here and there, crossing and recrossing each other as if in search of light and air. The dwellings in these streets are full of quaint artistic beauty; at one point one meets a massive wall of square-cut blocks dating from the days of Diocletian, against which, perhaps, is built up a modern house with wrought-iron balconies of the most delicate workmanship; further on, an outside staircase of rude stone steps, partly covered with a roof ofrusset tiles, leads to a door some thirty feet above our heads, from which a flying buttress crosses over to an opening in an ancient wall beyond, where a modern habitation has been constructed in some mediæval donjon.
Each turn brings a new surprise, and so one passes on till one comes to the piazza, and this day being a festival, it swarmed with natives from all the surroundingcampagne. The reader must now come with me to thecafé, where under a thick awning and surrounded by a screen of oleanders and orange-trees in full bloom, we shall take agranita di caffé(a water-ice flavoured with coffee), and study the moving panorama before us, whilst we slowly puff away a cigarette made with the ambrosial tobacco of Trebigna—a kind still unknown in London and in Paris!
A TYPE OF SHYLOCK—SCENE IN THE STREET—VARIED COSTUMES—MORLACCHI—TURKS FROM THE HERZEGOVINA—WOMEN OF SPALATO—INSPECTION OF THE CITY—THE PORTA AUREA—COURT OF THE VESTIBULE OF THE PALACE—INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL—ILLUSTRIOUS MEN OF SPALATO—MARK ANTONY DE DOMINIS—ST. JEROME—THE MORLACCHI.
SITTING down cross-legged on the very oldest and dirtiest of rugs, and just outside our fragrant hedge of oleander, is to be seen an old Jew, the finest type of a Shylock that could be imagined; with ample, heavy, flowing beard, aquiline nose with sharp cut nostril, and deep-set piercing eyes shadowed by an ample turban. He has before him, on his rug, a collection of arms, pistols of the old approved Turkish form and yataghans of everyprice, from the common horn-handled weapon in a wooden sheath to the jewel-hilted Kharjar in a sheath ofrepoussésilver. Around is a motley group of countrymen, all talking at the top of their voices in their several languages, whilst examining and praising or depreciating the weapons there for sale, just as they are either simpleflâneursin the square, or really intending purchasers. The varieties of costume rendered this picturesque group most interesting, there were Morlacchi from the neighbouring mountains with full blue Turkish trowsers fast to the knee; gold embroidered crimson jackets without sleeves, and gaiters to match; the whole finished off by an immense Albanian scarf of many colours wound round the waist, holding a perfect armoury of weapons in the front. On the head most of them wore a small red fez, others wore a turban, but it was not put on like the Jews, they did not seemau faitin settling it; but whatever head-gear they adopted they all were decorated with a tail—a genuine plaited tail coming down their backs with such luxuriance that it might have been the envy of any Celestial. I could not bring myself to like it—though report says thatthe Morlacchi are wonderfully attached to their tails, and cherish and pet them somewhat in the manner of our old tars in the days of Collingwood and Nelson.
There were Turks from the Herzegovina, ill-looking, badly-clad, scowling Mussulmans, who would willingly have earned ten paras by sending a Christian to his latter home, but still gorgeous in their tatters and vermin. There were Christian Albanians with their white fustanellas, high aquiline nose, glittering eyes, and false smile, in dress somewhat similar to the Morlacchi, but wearing a smaller fez with a long blue tassel. Conspicuous above them all was a Risanese from the Gulf of Cattaro, in full Montenegrin costume; but with a green instead of the white characteristic coat, all overladen about the breast and shoulders with plates of solid gold of considerable thickness, especially over the shoulders, where they would, if required, afford some protection from the blow of a sabre.
Mingled with the men were several women—some very good-looking—with golden-brown hair and dark eyes and eyelashes; their hair in plaits,not hanging but coiled round their heads, which were further adorned with Turkish piastres and other coins. The dress is a mixture of red, white, and blue artistically combined, with coral and coins twisted round their necks.
The noise of this Babel of tongues was deafening, and the scene not to be described. One wretched, tattered old man, but armed to the teeth like the rest, long tried to persuade me to buy a hank of onions, and would not be gainsaid when told by one of the waiters of thecaféthat I was a traveller and did not require onions; what better or more portable provisions could I carry with me in my travels than onions? said he.
Having finished mygranita, I again started to explore the city; this time under the guidance of a most obliging gentleman, well versed in the antiquities of the place, and to whom I had brought an introduction. We first went outside the city to inspect the grand Porta Aurea. This had only lately been thoroughly excavated, and even in its present dilapidated condition, not so much the effect of time as of the plundering propensities ofman, is still most beautiful and grand. What must it have been before the eight columns which decorated its front were taken away to adorn some modern church?
From the Porta Aurea, we again got into the city, proceeding straight to the court of the vestibule of the Palace, where all that is best worth seeing in Spalato is collected together. Here in front of us was the façade of the peristyle, consisting of four large and beautiful granite columns, supporting a triangular pediment, and which occupied the whole breadth of the court. On each side were a row of six Corinthian columns, equally large, and also of rose-coloured Egyptian granite, supporting not an architrave as is generally the case, but a series of arches which sprang from their capitals. On the right was the smaller temple, dedicated to Esculapius, now converted into a baptistry, and dedicated to St. John. On the left, the Temple of Jupiter—now the Cathedral of Spalato, by the side of which rises that most elegant campanile, the Giralda of Spalato, only one hundred and ninety-nine feet high, since the two upper stories were thrown down by lightning.
The interior of the Cathedral does not offer much to admire—nevertheless its general effect is sufficiently imposing. But it is outside in the court, the present piazza, that all the beauty of the place reveals itself. It is not a ruin—of the sixteen original granite columns not one has been displaced, and this portion of the Palace of Spalato is as in the days when Diocletian came into his Temple to pray. Can the reader believe that all this is really within five days of London?
Dalmatia has been the birthplace of many men of letters and science, and Spalato can boast of having even given a Protestant Dean to our royal Windsor, in the person of the celebrated Mark Anthony de Dominis, once Catholic Archbishop of Spalato, whose life and death would furnish materials for a sensational novel. As his history is not commonly known, it may, perhaps, interest some of my readers to hear it now.
He was born about the year 1570, and educated at the Illyrian College of the Jesuits, in Loretto, from whence he passed to Padua, where he became Professor of Mathematics. In the year 1600, hewas created Bishop of Segna, and in 1602 he was raised to the Archbishopric of Spalato, where, during the terrible plague of 1607, he nobly distinguished himself by his liberality to the poor, and his fearless and humane attendance on the sick in the administration of his sacerdotal duties—emulating the courage and devotion, under similar circumstances, of Borromeo of Milan. He occupied the Archiepiscopal throne of Spalato for fourteen years, during which period his time was divided between the performance of his ecclesiastical duties, and the investigations of science. He converted the upper part of the Palace, at Spalato, into a Laboratory and an Observatory, and the window is still shown where he is supposed to have made the discovery of the prismatic colour of light, "by the falling drops of water;" which discovery, including a description of the nature of the rainbow, he published to the world in a work printed at Venice in 1611. His fickleness in matters of religion, however, proved his ruin; his Chapter accused him of heretical opinions, upon which he withdrew to Venice at the close of 1615, having previously vacated his See in favour of his nephewSforza Ponsoni. During his residence in that city, he wrote a work in favour of the Republic, which was condemned by the Inquisition, when he determined on withdrawing, for safety, to a Protestant country.
He went first to Heidelberg, and thence came to England in the suite and at the invitation of Sir Henry Wotton, Ambassador of James I. to the Venetian Republic. In England, he published and dedicated to James I. a history of the Council of Trent, which had been lent him, it is said, by its author, Fra Paolo Sarpi. He also edified the Protestant public by an open recantation of his religion in St. Paul's Cathedral, and then published a work against the Papacy, entitled, "Scoglio del Naufragio Christiano." He was particularly well received in England; and was patronized by the King, who made him Dean of Windsor. He seems, however, to have expected more, and to have been disappointed at not getting a bishopric; and on Gregory XV., who was a friend and relative of his, succeeding him to the Papal throne, he changed his religion again, and yielding to the solicitations of the Pope, conveyed to him throughthe Spanish Ambassador, who promised him a Cardinal's Hat, he returned to Rome in 1622.
Gregory XV. received him kindly, and as long as he lived De Dominis remained unmolested, but at his death Pope Urban VIII., who succeeded him, saw no reason to extend his protection over the ex-Protestant Dean of Windsor; he was accused of heresy, handed over to the tender mercies of the Holy Inquisition, and thrown into a dungeon of the Castle of St. Angelo, where he died in 1625—it is supposed by poison, and his body was subsequently burned, together with his writings, in the Campo dei Fiori.
De Dominis was a very distinguished philosopher, and we must not be too severe when judging him by the light of the present day. There can be no doubt that the change from Popery to the Reformed religion was principally due, not to a feeling of animosity against the Church of Rome, as many have maintained, but chiefly to those doubts concerning the truth of the things taught by that church, and to its conduct in persisting to refuse the results of the investigations of science, as evinced by its treatment of Galileo and others.His return to the church is more difficult to account for on generous grounds; but he, himself, is stated to have said that by becoming a Cardinal he might be of greater use in effecting a reformation in that community to which he had originally belonged. The Holy Inquisition had hoped to have enjoyed the satisfaction of publicly roasting, "ad majorem Dei gloriam," a professor of Natural Science, a renegade Catholic Archbishop and a Protestant Dean all in one; but some charitable friend robbed that holy confraternity of its anticipated triumph by passing in some poison to the unfortunate De Dominis, who learnt too late that Rome never changes, "che il Lupo perde il pelo, il vizio no" and that according to Papal ethics to keep faith with heretics is at best a grievous sin.
Spalato, in common with the rest of Dalmatia, has given birth to many able men, among which they claim even St. Jerome, the most learned of the ancient fathers and the talented author of the noblest translation of the Bible; but I fear on insufficient grounds, as all the authorities I have looked into seem to make him a Pannonian and not an Illyrian; Carrara, however, claims him asa compatriot in his "Uomini Illustri di Spalato."
Within a few miles of Spalato are the ruins of Salona, I had not time to visit them. There is not comparatively very much of interest to be seen above ground, but I believe that methodically conducted diggings have yielded some valuable results. It was the Roman capital of Dalmatia and was destroyed by the Avars in 640, when the inhabitants who escaped from the slaughter took refuge in Spalato and there founded the new city, by grouping themselves around and under the protection of the Palace of Diocletian.
The majority of the inhabitants of Spalato are Roman Catholics, with an admixture of Greeks and a good number of Jews, who wear the turban and the Oriental costume, and are principally descended from those who were expelled from Spain in 1493. For many centuries they were subjected to the same indignities as in other Christian countries, and compelled to inhabit the Ghetto where they used to be locked up at night; but such practices have long been abolished in Dalmatia, and the Jews of Spalato have enjoyed for many years the same privileges as the other citizens of that place.
My stay at Spalato was much too short for enjoyment; I saw indeed most that was to be seen there, but it was not much more than a glance, and I longed to be sketching amongst those picturesque nooks.
Having several times mentioned the Morlacchi, it will, I think, be interesting to my readers to know something about them. Again I have to regret that I was unable to visit them in their villages, and that the only information I can give of them is, that they are inhabitants of the wild mountainous district lying to the East of Dalmatia. They are a fine race of men, though much smaller and inferior to the Montenegrin; their women, on the contrary, are often very beautiful, and they have many strange customs in their dealings with foreigners which would make an excursion into the fastnesses of their mountains of more than ordinary interest.
With the Lowland Dalmatians and the inhabitants of the towns on the coast, the name of Morlacchi is always associated with plunder and cattle-lifting, just as in Scotland a hundred years ago every Highlander, in the eyes of a Lowlander,was a cateran and a robber; but I heard from people that had been among them, that they are very hospitable, and that their country can be freely traversed in any direction without the smallest danger. They are Catholics and apparently of the same stock as the Montenegrins, though these latter are schismatic Greeks.
ISLAND OF LISSA—NAVAL BATTLES—A BRIDAL PARTY TAKEN ON BOARD—LESINA—FORTRESS OF SAN NICOLO—THE LOGGIE—FORT SPAGNUOLO—ISLAND OF CURZOLA—LA CHROMA—BEAUTIFUL SCENE—RICHARD CŒUR DE LION—CATHEDRAL OF RAGUSA—EARTHQUAKE OF 1667—TERRIBLE CONFLAGRATION—PRINCE MAXIMILIAN.
EARLY in the afternoon we left Spalato, and steaming away from the coast we stood out to sea, making for Lissa, a large island of the Adriatic, celebrated in the days of the first Napoleon for the stout sea fight in which, on the 13th of March 1811, Captain Hoste, (afterwards Sir William Hoste), with four ships mounting 156 guns, utterly defeated the French fleet of twenty-seven sail, mounting 284,having on board 500 troops. In 1808 we occupied Lissa, and having established free trade and other institutions, the island improved so much under our administration that in less than three years from the time we occupied it the population had risen to 12,000 inhabitants (at present it has scarcely 5000).
The French were naturally sorely tried by the advantageous position we occupied in front of their coast, and the very good use we made of our opportunities of pushing our commerce in every direction. They determined therefore on expelling us from Lissa and the Adriatic, as from the smallness of our armament there they had no doubt as to their success. Swiftly and silently they fitted out an expedition at Ancona, which under the command of the brave Captain Dubourdieu arrived at Lissa on the 13th March, 1811. It consisted of four 44 gun frigates, ten 32 gun corvettes, one 16 gun brig, a schooner, ten gun-boats, and a xebeque, in all 284 guns.
The British Squadron consisted of only four ships, the 'Amphion,' 'Active,' 'Cerberus,' and 'Volage,' mounting but 156 guns all told, but itwas commanded and manned by British seamen! the result could not be doubted, and although Dubourdieu fought like a gallant sailor as he was, the victory remained with us. Our losses were severe, and in a quiet retired little nook, on the left hand as one enters the land-locked harbour of Lissa, are buried those who fell in that engagement; while on the right hand side is another burial place, where under a handsome sepulchral monument lie the remains of those Austrians who fell in the latest naval engagement at Lissa when a few years ago the Italian Navy, the pet toy, an expensive one by the by, of King Victor Emmanuel, was all but annihilated by the Austrians under Admiral Tegethoff.
At Lissa we remained a very short time, so short that I had not even time to go ashore, though I should have very much liked to visit the burial place of those brave English sailors who fell in the naval action of 1811. The business of the steamer, which seemed principally to consist in shipping a bridal party, was soon concluded, and after a very short stay we were again under full steam for Lesina, another island of the samearchipelago, but much smaller and closer in to the Dalmatian coast.
The bridal party we had taken on board consisted of the bride and bridegroom, both very plain and very much, even tawdrily over-dressed in Parisian costume, and with remarkably dirty hands and otherwise unwashed appearance. A bishop with a couple of priests in attendance on his reverence, and half-a-dozen relations and friends of the newly-married couple, who seemed principally to study not to take any notice of each other but went about making themselves generally agreeable.
The groom most kindly insisted on my smoking his cigars (and villainously bad they were, but had I declined them he would have been awfully offended) and drinking his maraschino, which fortunately was as good as his cigars were bad, whilst the bride, luckily for me, persistently avoided me, probably from fear of heretical contamination, and exclusively devoted her attentions to the Bishop and his priests.
After a few hours steaming through the smoothest and bluest of seas, in full view of the grand mountainsof Dalmatia, in due time we arrived at Lesina a little before sunset. This island is said to derive its name from being somewhat shaped like an awl, in Italianlesina. It is just a thin strip of land forty-two miles long, blunt at one end (which represents the handle) and sharp at the other. I doubt, however, the correctness of its etymology, and am inclined to think that its present name is more probably derived from its ancient one of "Pharos Insula," often reduced by elision into simply "Insula;" now the anagram of "Insula" is "Lusina," a word much more in harmony with the genius of the Italian language, and from Lusina to Lesina is but a shade. I think I am fortified in this etymology by the fact of at least two other instances in the Adriatic of this identical transposition of letters, and the conversion of Insula to Lusina, in the names of two islands near the Quarnero, named respectively Lussin Grande and Lussin Piccolo, which are evidently the anagram of Insula Grande and Insula Piccola.
We arrived just in time to enjoy the effect of the setting sun upon that rocky landscape and theexquisitely pretty town at the foot of the mountain, and sufficiently early to be able to take a rapid sketch just as the sun was beginning to sink behind the tower which rises to the west of the town. The fort behind and above the town was still in full sunlight, as was also the more distant fortress of San Nicolo, brought forcibly into relief by a bank of dark purple clouds which were massed behind it. Down below, close to the water's edge, lay the town bathed in a flood of amber light, partly caused by the reflection of the golden sunset beyond, and partly by the colouring of the town itself, the houses of which are all painted with the warmest tints.
In the middle of the town, close to the water's edge, are the "Loggie" or Portico, an elegant building, which in the olden times of Venetian supremacy was used by the merchants as an exchange to transact business in, as well as a hall of justice for the administration of the laws, and at the back a room is still shown where criminals and suspected persons underwent the question by torture.
Immediately behind and above the Loggie risesFort Spagnuolo, built by Charles V, connected with the town below by two long crenelated walls, enclosing in front a considerable space planted thick with colossal aloes (Agave Americana), which in case of assault would, in olden times, have offered a very considerable impediment to the advance of troops.
The island of Lesina is barren, and its commerce very insignificant; it grows, however, an immense quantity of rosemary, from which is distilled a celebrated essential oilOleum Anthos, and theAqua Regia, or rosemary water, which are both largely exported.
It was dark when we left; shaping our way for Curzola where we arrived about midnight. My friend, the Capuchin, who sat chatting with me till we arrived there, regretted I could not see it by daylight, as contrary to the other islands, which are conspicuous for their barrenness, Curzola is well wooded, and is celebrated for the size and magnificence of its pine trees.
We did not make any long delay here, and were soon threading our course again between theislands and the mainland in the direction of Ragusa, but I know nothing about them. The Monk wished me good-night and went to his cabin, when again I took my usual place on deck, and was soon as comfortably asleep on that oaken plank as if I had been in the most luxurious bed in England.
I was awakened from my night's sleep by my friend the Capuchin monk, who had been my travelling companion all the way from Trieste.
"Get up, my lazy friend," said he, touching me with his foot. "We shall soon be entering the port of Gravosa; and there," stretching, out his arm towards the Dalmatian coast, "is the island of Lachroma, once the property of the unfortunate Emperor Maximilian of Mexico, and in ancient times a harbour of refuge to your great King Richard, Cœur-de-Lion."
Hard though my bed had been, for nothing but my doubled up old rug had interposed between myself and the deck, I had slept profoundly, "à la belle étoile," and far more comfortably than if I had condescended to take my place in the dirty and stuffycamerinodown below, where all the otherpassengers, including my friend the Capuchin and his lay-brother, fearing bad smells, fleas, and other small game much less than the delicious night-air of the balmy Adriatic, had carefully stowed themselves away the previous night. I was up in an instant, and I shall not easily forget the sight that greeted my eyes from the deck of the little 'San Carlo.'
We were about three miles from the shore; the sun, though high above the horizon, had not yet acquired sufficient force to destroy the freshness of the morning breeze which delicately rippled the surface of the sea, making it in the sunshine like a sheet of frosted gold, while in the shade it was like liquid sapphire. On my left rose the wild, rocky cliffs of Dalmatia, rendered still more desolate-looking by the almost total absence of vegetation; while in front and on my right, stretching away to the extreme verge of the horizon, were the sparkling waters of the Adriatic, thickly studded with countless islets, to the nearest of which, Lachroma, the Monk had drawn my attention.
"It is now many years," said the Capuchin,"since your great crusading King found a refuge in that island."
"I was not aware that King Richard was shipwrecked here," said I. "I knew that he met with a terrific storm in this sea on his return from Palestine, but I always imagined he had been wrecked near the top of the Adriatic, on the coast of Istria, in the neighbourhood of Aquileia."
"Yes," replied the Monk, "it is not generally known that it was on the rocks of Lachroma that Cœur-de-Lion was cast away; and it is strange how this error should have crept into history and held its ground and place in every standard work, including your own invaluable Cyclopædias. But we have ample proofs of the truth of what I am telling you, and documentary evidence to establish the accuracy of my assertion; for your King, in gratitude to Divine Providence for delivering him from shipwreck, vowed to build a church in honour of the Blessed Virgin, on whatever land he should first set foot, and having safely landed at Lachroma, he proceeded to make good his vow by committing to the abbot and monks of aBenedictine monastery, which already existed on the island, the task of building this church, to defray the expenses of which the good King devoted no less than 100,000nummi argentei, which sum he borrowed from his British lieges. But the Rettore of Ragusa (so the President of that ancient Republic was styled), having heard of King Richard's shipwreck opposite his city, went to visit him in state, with all the magistrates and councillors of the Republic, and invited him to Ragusa, where he was received with every demonstration of respect, and all the hospitality and attention due to so distinguished a guest.
King Richard, pleased at the reception given him by the Republicans, and charmed by the attractive graces of the Ragusan ladies, rested there for some time; and then at the suggestion of these fair ones and the urgent entreaties of the authorities, who promised to obtain a dispensation for him from the Pope, he altered the terms of his donation, and founded in Ragusa itself the church to the Blessed Virgin which he had originally vowed on the island of Lachroma; on the condition, however, that the Benedictine Abbot of Lachroma, assisted by themonks of his convent, should have the privilege and the right to celebrate mass in this church in Ragusa every year on the day of the feast of the Purification. The gift of Richard Cœur-de-Lion having been further increased by donations from the inhabitants, this votive church grew into that celebrated cathedral which for so many years held the first rank among all the churches of Illyria.[5]At last, however, came one fatal morning, the 6th of April, 1667, when Ragusa was all but annihilated by an earthquake. In a few moments all the principal edifices in the town were laid low, including the Cathedral of King Richard, and upwards of six thousand inhabitants, more than one-fifth of the entire population were buried in the ruins. There was not a family in the whole city which had not one or more to mourn for. Several of my ancestors perished, and among others a lineal ancestor of my mother, Simone Ghetaldi, then Rettore of the Republic; he and several senators were assembled in the Council Chamber, and about to receive the visit of a Dutch Embassy (which had stopped at Ragusa on its way to Constantinople, to which court it was accredited) when they were all engulphed; not one escaped, and it is supposed that at that spot the earth must have opened and closed over them again. The Archbishop barely escaped with his life by jumping out of a window as the floors of his palace were giving way beneath him, and more than nine-tenths of the clergy perished.We preserve in our family a manuscript which gives an accurate account of this terrible catastrophe; as a youngster, I was often made to copy it out, and I therefore know it almost off by heart. It tells how the morning of the 6th of April, 1667, broke calm and bright, and that the atmosphere was still and serene, without anything to indicate the approaching danger, when suddenly, without any premonitory sound, about two hours after sunrise, while most of the inhabitants were still in their houses, or in the churches hearing early mass, the earth shook so violently that in a few minutes the whole town was in ruins, with the exception of the fortress, and a few other buildings, the walls of which were enormously thick. In addition to the destruction caused by falling houses, large rocks came toppling down, detached from the mountain, which, as you see, apparently overhangs the city. This added greatly to the terror and devastation. So far as we know there was butone shock, and it lasted only a few seconds; but no where and at no time was so much damage done thus instantaneously.
"Many harrowing scenes were recounted, butperhaps the most terrible of all was that of a school of boys which was swallowed up beneath the ruins. All the unfortunate lads perished, most of them by a miserable lingering death, and for days their moans and cries for help and water could be heard by their distracted friends, without the possibility of giving them any relief. One would have thought this a sufficient visitation for poor Ragusa, but calamities never come singly. A fire broke out on the same day, and towards evening a strong wind arose and fanned the flames, thus increasing the conflagration beyond the power of control. Night came on, and the whole side of the mountains was illuminated by the flames of the burning city. Then the wild mountaineers, the Morlacchi, came down in swarms to pilfer and snatch whatever they could from the universal wreck. The scenes then enacted defied all powers of description. The fires were burning with exceptional brightness and fury, in consequence of the conflagration having reached the stores of oil, tallow and tar accumulated in the Arsenal and elsewhere. Groups of Morlacchi, undeterred by the crumbling walls and the scorching rafters, could be seen flitting about among ruinsregardless of the danger! Occasionally some such group having ventured too far, would disappear with a fearful scream into some yawning gulf; while in another spot two parties of the same plunderers might be seen in deadly conflict, fighting with their long straight knives over their unlawful booty. It was a fearful night.
"But all this is ancient history; there is another tragic episode connected with Lachroma. Another calamity is brought to our minds when we look upon its shores. Poor Prince Maximilian!—alas! alas! he was a good and kind man,—and that noble unfortunate Princess Charlotte! I had the honour of being in their company more than once, both in Europe and Mexico; they were so good, so affable, so happy, till in an evil hour they allowed themselves to be led away by ambition. The Prince seemed all along to have had a presentiment of evil. I was told by one who was present, that nothing could be more melancholy than his departure from Miramar, and the leave-taking when he was waited on by a deputation from Trieste was the most painful scene he ever witnessed. The Prince was completely overcome, and fairly brokedown on this occasion. After his assassination the island was sold, and now I hear it is for sale again."
The good old Monk was silent for a few minutes, and then gently putting his hand on my shoulder, he said,
"You are English,non è vero? You are not American? I would not say a hurtful word to mortal, but I cannot help thinking that the President of the United States was nearly as much to blame as the Mexican savage for the murder of Maximilian; one word from the United States' President would have saved the Emperor's life."
"But what about the French Emperor?" I asked; "he who got the poor Prince into the scrape, and then left him to get out of it as best he could?"
"Ah; true—true," repeated the Monk. "e quell'altro birbaccione di Bazaine! Ah! Providence will overtake them all. But look, see how beautiful Ragusa is, how picturesque! Although I am only a poor Capuchin monk, I feel proud of my native city—che mi son Raguséo!" he exclaimed, breakingout into his native Venetian dialect. "Though most of my life has been spent far away in foreign missions, I still cling with fondness to my native shores, and feel thankful, most thankful," he repeated, bending his head, "that it has pleased His Holiness and our General to order me back here again at last."