dug miles into the heart of mountains, and carried water hundreds of
miles in artificial channels for washing deposits of gold. Perhaps
no one can ever convey or even conceive of the horror of the life of
slaves in these works. In droves of tens of thousands, many of them
made slaves instead of masters by the mere fortune of war, they were
driven into the bowels of the earth with poor chance of seeing the
light again. It is, at any rate, a fact that months passed without such
re-emergence, a fact which lessened the likelihood of any re-emergence
at all. In that great and cruel empire, slave life counted for little;
the supply was abundant.
Arthur Evans, who has recently given back to us the palace of Minos,
made in a series of essays some twenty-five years ago what French
savants would call a "most penetrating study" of the roads and mines of
Dalmatia and adjacent regions. Realizing from this book the importance
of this great highway from Salona, and being already strongly lured
by the sight of that great yawning gap in the mountain range, I took
advantage of the fact that my appointment with Bulich was not until
four o'clock to make the day a day of exploration. Taking an early
start, I worked my way up to the top of the pass over a road laid out
with such a gentle grade that I was able to bicycle over nine-tenths
of the distance. Arrived at the top, I went on by a gentle down grade
four or five miles into the interior toward Sinj; but, finding no
commanding point of view, I returned to the top of the pass. From this
point the view can hardly be overpraised. Exactly in the middle of
the deep cut is Clissa, a sharp cone, on the truncated top of which
is a strong fortress with a straggling village on the slope facing
Spalato. Although there are no evident remains of masonry in the
fort earlier than the mediæval period, there can be no doubt that a
fortress primeval existed here. For once Baedeker deceived me in saying
that admission to the fortress would be granted on presentation of a
visiting card. The non-commissioned officer in charge stood by his
guns, and, in spite of all importunity, refused admission except on
the strength of a written permit from the commandant at Spalato. So I
contented myself with a view from a point outside the walls some twenty
feet lower down. Since it is mainly the view toward Spalato and the sea
that is important, there was practically nothing lost. There was just
a little feeling of defeat, of being baffled in an attempt to reach
the highest height. A railroad is just now approaching completion from
Spalato up through this gap to Sinj. When it is finished visitors can
enjoy from its many windings all this fine view at their ease.
[Illustration: CLISSA]
In twenty minutes I dropped down to Salona, and devoted the rest of
the day to exploring the territory of Spalato westward as far as Traü,
its ancient rival. Every foot of this shore is beautiful; but Traü
itself surpasses all praise. Its cathedral, in Romanesque style, is
complete and unencumbered with later additions. The great west portal,
with the figures of Adam and Eve to the right and left, is held by
good judges to be unsurpassed by any other portal, whether Romanesque
or Gothic. The campanile alone is Gothic, showing that it was somewhat
later. It is to be noted, however, that the transition from Romanesque
to Gothic all along this shore was nearly a century later than
elsewhere. There are other beautiful churches in Traü, some of them in
ruins. In fact, stagnation almost complete has struck the town, which
is crowded into a very narrow space on a diminutive island. Its streets
are not broad enough for carriages. There is a Venetian loggia near the
cathedral, with columns that had seen service elsewhere. Its flat roof
has tumbled in and been replaced by a makeshift. There is a fascination
in this absolute inertia which contrasts with the growth and activity
of Spalato, only twelve miles away in a straight line. Seven or eight
centuries ago these two rivals would have torn each other in pieces but
for the stern yet, on the whole, beneficent rule of Venice, tokens of
which, in the form of the lion of St. Mark, appear all along the coast,
but especially in Traü, where they have not been removed. "Traü" is
an abridgment of Tugurium, the Roman name of the place; but it had an
existence in Greek times, being founded by Syracusan Greeks who came
by way of the neighboring island, Lissa. I saw one Greek inscription
walled into a house near the landing.
At four o'clock on this day of surfeits I met Bulich at the railroad
station, "Salona." He came with a select international party, and
for four hours, with tremendous enthusiasm, showed us all about his
excavation, and then took us to his excavation quarters, which he
calls Villa Tusculum, for a fine supper. I verily believe that had not
darkness come on he would have forgotten all about that supper, which
was, if not a climax, certainly a fitting close to a memorable day.
A most striking feature of Spalato is the beauty of the women. For some
considerable time I had been struck by isolated cases; but one evening,
as I sat at a café on the water front where crowds were leisurely
passing, I noticed nursery-maids and others of the servant class
endowed with beauty which a duchess might sigh for. I have never set
much store by statements which make certain cities--Genzano, near Rome,
for instance--noted for beautiful women, and so I called myself to a
rigid account in this case, and there was no mistaking the cumulative
evidence collected in cold blood. To control my own impression I asked
Bulich, the aged, the next day whether I was mistaken. "Certainly not,"
said he, "you are making no new discovery." But, lest he should be
considered a prejudiced witness, influenced by local pride, I appeal
to the next traveller to look up the matter. He should, however, first
prepare his mind by visiting Montenegro.
Knots of men, also, who had come in from the country or from coasting
boats, peasantry of the region, men of Slavic race, called here
Morlaks, contributed to the picturesqueness of the crowd. Four such
men, wearing great red and yellow turbans, jackets covered with
embroidery and buttons, great red sashes, and indescribable leg
and foot coverings, attracted little attention as they passed and
repassed the café where I sat, simply because they were not much more
conspicuous than many other similar groups. Transfer some of these
groups of men and women to canvas with photographic exactness, color
included, and you have Titian. It seems a pity that "_die Kultur die
alle Welt beleckt_" should ever reach this sweet corner and reduce all
this exuberance of color and form to a dead level. The modern tailor
ought not to be allowed to enter here with his profane shears and
fashion plates.
Continuing my journey from Spalato, I profited by an hour's stop at
Traü to review the cathedral. When we had proceeded two-thirds of the
way from Spalato to Sebenico, and had just got into the harbor of
Ragonitzka, we were struck by a hurricane which subsequently softened
down into a regular "bora," for which Dalmatia is famous. For a few
minutes paper parcels and even a pile of books were blown about the
deck; but to my surprise certain little red disks on the top of
the bare heads of some of the passengers held their places. I then
discovered on careful scrutiny that they were held in place by a string
carefully concealed in the hair back of the ears. I then made a study
of these disks. They merely rested on the top of the head, and could in
no sense be regarded as a covering for it. It would be an exaggeration
to say that they were no bigger than a ten-cent piece, but not so very
much of an exaggeration. To be as exact as possible without actual
measurements, I should say that the diameter of most of these was three
or four inches. The wearers of them were often clad in an ordinary
modern suit of clothes. In Sebenico I continued my comparative study of
these red disks. I then found some that nearly covered the top of the
head, and at last a few cases that had a slight extension downward all
around the head. This made it clear that it was intended for a cap. It
furthermore appeared that the more a fellow partook of the nature of a
"howling swell" the smaller was his disk. It became perfectly clear,
then, that we have in Sebenico a case not of the development but of
the disappearance of the cap, what is left being only symbolical, the
antithesis of the "tall hat."
We had four or five hours in Sebenico, and I spent most of the time in
visiting two great discarded forts on high hills back of the city. It
would have been worth while to stop and wait for another steamer in
order to make an excursion into the interior; but I had had almost a
surfeit of fine views, and kept on my course. Sebenico is one of the
strangest of harbors. After heading for it the steamer has to dodge
around island after island, and at last, when it seems confronted by a
continuous coast line, it finds a little break through which it goes
in and finds itself in a broad bay. When one looks back one wonders
how he ever got so far inland with a steamer, and how he is ever going
to get out again to the sea that looks so far away. From its sheltered
situation, Sebenico was for ages a pirates' nest. The hand of Venice
was here also needed to keep Sebenico from preying on her neighbors,
Traü and Spalato. Now all the jarring states rest quietly in the
bosom of Austria, except that the contention between the old Italian
civilization and the new and aggressive Slave element grows ever
fiercer, with the danger that the Italian element will be crowded to
the wall.
In about four hours after leaving Sebenico we were at Zara, which
enjoys the double distinction of being the capital of Dalmatia and the
home of maraschino. It has several churches of absorbing interest, both
for their architecture and for their contents. Although it has lost
immensely in picturesqueness by the tearing down of its old walls, it
is still a beautiful city; but it is a modern kind of beauty, which has
come from broad boulevards taking the place of the landward wall, and
a splendid quay taking the place of the sea wall. Austrian officers in
fine uniforms set the tone. It has almost too much of an air of thrift
to be picturesque. One sees everywhere, signs of maraschino factories,
maraschino stores, and maraschino cafés.
As I sat in front of a café on the modern quay, sipping my second
glass of maraschino at what claimed to be the original maraschino
establishment in the city, and looked off at the eight Austrian
war-ships lying off the shore, a feeling of "change from the old to
the new" came over me. Just then such a sunset as is rarely vouchsafed
to man was transpiring. The blood-red sun of double size was setting
in the illumined sea. I took it as a signal that my Dalmatian journey
was at an end. Pola and Fiume I already knew, and Trieste was a common
mart. I went back to the steamer.
[Illustration: GREECE.]
Transcriber's Note
Minor errors or inconsistencies in punctuation have been corrected
silently. The pages referred to in the following remarks refer to the
original printed edition.
On p. 9, the phrases regarding an inscription introduced with "It read
thus:", include an unbalanced quotation mark, but it is not clear
where it should be placed, or which might be spurious.
The following list describes any obvious printer's errors that were
detected, and the resolution of each.
p. 31 approp[r]iate] Added.
p. 134 I[t/n] spite of great care Corrected.
p. 166 in [f]ront of his sea-wall Added.
p. 191 entertai[n]ment Added.
p. 192 their sea-sickness and fright[./;] Corrected.
p. 239 Slave _sic._ Slav?
p. 240 One sees everywhere[,] signs of maraschino _sic._
End of Project Gutenberg's Vacation days in Greece, by Rufus B. Richardson