am in a position to impart on these subjects
requires, I am aware, some apology. The difficulty of obtaining it
during the short stay of a steamer must be my excuse. May it be
accepted!
_September 2._--Steamed into the port of Spalatro at 10.30 A.M. There
is both an outer and inner harbour, the latter affording a good
anchorage to vessels of any burden; yet, notwithstanding this, we were
compelled, for the first time since leaving Trieste, to lie off at some
distance from the quay. The origin of Spalatro dates from the building
of the palace of Diocletian in 303, A.D. This glorious pile, however
much it may offend against the rules of architecture, is well entitled to
rank among the noblest monuments of imperial Rome. Its mammoth
proportions, the novelty of conception evinced in many parts, together
with its extraordinary state of preservation, render it alike unique, while
the circumstances connected with its building impart to it an unusual
interest. Wearied with the affairs of state, Diocletian retired to Salona,
where he passed the remaining nine years of his life in profound
seclusion. Of the use to which he applied his wealth during that period,
a record still exists in the golden gate and the Corinthian columns
which decorate that regal abode; while we learn what were his pursuits
from his own memorable reply to Maximian, when urged by him to
reassume the purple. 'Utinam Salonis olera nostris manibus insita
invisere posses, de resumando imperio non judicares;' or, as it has been
somewhat freely translated by Gibbon--'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.'[A]
Nor has nature been less bountiful than man to this most favoured spot.
The description given by Adams conveys a very accurate impression of
the character of the surrounding country. 'The soil is dry and fertile, the
air pure and wholesome, and, though extremely hot during the summer
months, the country seldom feels those sultry and noxious winds to
which the coasts of Istria and some parts of Italy are exposed. The
views from the palace are no less beautiful than the soil and climate are
inviting. Towards the W. lies the fertile shore that stretches along the
Adriatic, in which a number of small islands are scattered in such a
manner as to give this part of the sea the appearance of a great lake. On
the N. side lies the bay, which led to the ancient city of Salona, and the
country beyond it appearing in sight forms a proper contrast to that
more extensive prospect of water, which the Adriatic presents both to
the S. and the E. Towards the N. the view is terminated by high and
irregular mountains situated at a proper distance, and in many places
covered with villages, woods, and vineyards.'[B] Like most other relics
of antiquity, the time-honoured walls of Spalatro have been witnesses
of those varied emotions to which the human heart is subject. Thither
Glycerius the prelate retired, when driven by Julius Nepos from the
imperial throne. There, too, in a spirit of true Christian charity, he
heaped coals of fire on the head of his enemy, by affording him a
sanctuary when dethroned in his turn by Orestes, the father of
Augustulus. Again, a little while, and within the same walls, where he
had deemed himself secure, Julius Nepos fell a victim to the assassin's
knife, and subsequently we find the houseless Salonites sheltering
themselves within its subterraneous passages, when driven from their
homes by the fury of the invading Avars. The memory of all these is
passed away, but the stones still remain an undying testimony of a
happy king.
Having passed some hours in the town and palace, I adjourned to one
of the few small _cafés_ in the principal street. While sipping my
chocolate, I was accosted by an elderly priest, who most civilly
enquired whether he could help me in any way during my stay at
Spalatro. He proved to be a person of much intelligence, and,
notwithstanding that his knowledge of English extended only to a few
conversational words, he had read Sir Gardner Wilkinson's work on
Dalmatia, and, as his remarks showed, not without profiting thereby. At
4.30 the same afternoon we arrived at Lissa, the military port of Austria
in this part of the Adriatic. It is interesting to English travellers, its
waters having been the scene of a naval action in which an English
squadron, commanded by Captain Hoste, defeated a French squadron
carrying nearly double as many guns. During the great war the island
belonged to England, and indeed a portion of it is called to this day the
Cittá Inglese.
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