Visit to Ravanitza.--Jovial party.--Servian and Austrian
jurisdiction.--Convent described.--Eagles reversed.--Bulgarian
festivities.
The Natchalnik having got up a party, we proceeded in light cars of
the country to Ravanitza, a convent two or three hours off in the
mountains to the eastward. The country was gently undulating,
cultivated, and mostly inclosed, the roads not bad, and the _ensemble_
such as English landscapes were represented to be half a century ago.
When we approached Ravanitza we were again lost in the forest.
Ascending by the side of a mountain-rill, the woods opened, and the
convent rose in an amphitheatre at the foot of an abrupt rocky
mountain; a pleasing spot, but wanting the grandeur and beauty of the
sites on the Bosniac frontier.
[Illustration: Ravanitza.]
The superior was a tall, polite, middle-aged man. "I expected you long
ago," said he; "the Archbishop advised me of your arrival: but we
thought something might have happened, or that you had missed us."
"I prolonged my tour," said I, "beyond the limits of my original
project. The circumstance of this convent having been the burial-place
of Knes Lasar, was a sufficient motive for my on no account missing a
sight of it."
The superior now led us into the refectory, where a long table had
been laid out for dinner, for with the number of Tiuprians, as well as
the monks of this convent, and some from the neighbouring convent of
Manasia, we mustered a very numerous and very gay party. The wine was
excellent; and I could not help thinking with the jovial Abbot of
Quimper:
"Quand nos joyeux verres
Se font des le matin,
Tout le jour, mes freres,
Devient un festin."
By dint of _interlarding_ my discourse with sundry apophthegms of
_Bacon_, and stale paradoxes of Rochefoucaud, I passed current
throughout Servia considerably above my real value; so after the usual
toasts due to the powers that be, the superior proposed my health in a
very long harangue. Before I had time to reply, the party broke into
the beautiful hymn for longevity, which I had heard pealing in the
cathedral of Belgrade for the return of Wucics and Petronievitch. I
assured them that I was unworthy of such an honour, but could not help
remarking that this hymn "for many years" immediately after the
drinking of a health, was one of the most striking and beautiful
customs I had noticed in Servia.
A very curious discussion arose after dinner, relative to the
different footing of Servians in Austria, and Austrians in Servia. The
former when in Austria, are under the Austrian law; the latter in
Servia, under the jurisdiction of their own consul. Being appealed to,
I explained that in former times the Ottoman Sultans easily permitted
consular jurisdiction in Turkey, without stipulating corresponding
privileges for their own subjects; for Christendom, and particularly
Austria, was considered _Dar El Harb_, or perpetually the seat of war,
in which it was illegal for subjects of the Sultan to reside.
In the afternoon we made a survey of the convent and church, which
were built by Knes Lasar, and surrounded by a wall and seven towers.
The church, like all the other edifices of this description, is
Byzantine; but being built of stone, wants the refinement which shone
in the sculptures and marbles of Studenitza. I remarked, however, that
the cupolas were admirably proportioned and most harmoniously
disposed. Before entering I looked above the door, and perceived that
the double eagles carved there are reversed. Instead of having body to
body, and wings and beaks pointed outwards, as in the arms of Austria
and Russia, the bodies are separated, and beak looks inward to beak.
On entering we were shown the different vessels, one of which is a
splendid cup, presented by Peter the Great, and several of the same
description from the empress Catharine, some in gold, silver, and
steel; others in gold, silver, and bronze.
The body of Knes Lasar, after having been for some time hid, was
buried here in 1394, remained till 1684, at which period it was taken
over to Virdnik in Syrmium, where it remains to this day.
In the cool of the evening the superior took me to a spring of clear
delicious water, gushing from rocks environed with trees. A boy with a
large crystal goblet, dashed it into the clear lymph, and presented it
to me. The superior fell into eulogy of his favourite Valclusa, and I
drank not only this but several glasses, with circumstantial
criticisms on its excellence; so that the superior seemed delighted at
my having rendered such ample justice to the water he so loudly
praised, _Entre nous_,--the excellence of his wine, and the toasts
that we had drunk to the health of innumerable loyal and virtuous
individuals, rendered me a greater amateur of water-bibbing than
usual.
After some time we returned, and saw a lamb roasting for supper in the
open air; a hole being dug in the earth, chopped vine-twigs are burnt
below it, the crimson glow of which soon roasts the lamb, and imparts
a particular fragrance to the flesh. After supper we went out in the
mild dark evening to a mount, where a bonfire blazed and glared on the
high square tower of the convent, and cushions were laid for
chibouques and coffee. The not unpleasing drone of bagpipes resounded
through the woods, and a number of Bulgarians executed their national
dance in a circle, taking hold of each other's girdle, and keeping
time with the greatest exactness.