Ragusa

“Ragusa is one of the most beautiful towns in Europe. Behind it towers the stony height of Monte Sergio, while on three sides it rises sheer from the Adriatic. The circle of the walls with their round towers is still complete, and the little harbour has hardly altered since the days when it sheltered the famous fleets of the republic (p. 98).

The traveller, whether by steamer or train, arrives at the modern port of Gruž (Gravosa), which manages to crowd itself into the little terrace with the River Rijeka on one side, the mountains behind it and the sea in front. Across the water rise the low woods of the Lapad peninsula, and the road climbs over to its baseand down to the western gate of Dubrovnik. Outside the walls, but guarded on one side by the Fort of S. Lorenzo, is a little square over the sea with a row of trees, a café, a frequent band, and the post office. In the moat grow flowering shrubs, and acacias line the road which runs up the side of the hill and skirts the Mončeta Tower, which was built in 1434 by the family whose name it still commemorates. A footbridge leads over the moat to the Porta Pille in the outer wall, inside which are both stone steps and a ramp, while in the inner wall is a fine bas-relief of the late King of Serbia by Mestrović, the Serbian sculptor, which commemorates the union of Dalmatia with Yugoslavia after Great War. The second archway leads straight into the Placa (Stradone), once the arm of the sea which separated the Latin and the Slav towns; immediately on the right is the great round fountain of Onofrio, of which as the result of the earthquake nothing but the shell remains. It is covered with a dome, and the low surrounding wall is usually gay with brilliant local rugs, the sellers sitting comfortably below them. Just opposite the fountain is the entrance to the office of the military command where the visitor is given a permit for the walls and asked for a small donation to the funds of the Red Cross. […]. The walls are complete, and it is possible to walk all round except for the part over the harbour where the forts are used as barracks (pp. 123-125).

At the other end of the Placa are gathered together the great glories of Dubrovnik - the Customs House and the Rector’s Palace. In the open space there stands a statue of Orlando, above which on all official occasions used to float the standard of the Republic, and on this spot were promulgated degrees, laws, etc. It was here that the final extinction of the Republic by Marmont was made known to his people. […]. On the left is the Custom House, which in the days of Ragusa’s greatness controlled both the caravans and the shipping; here in modern parlance “export and import licences” and “passports visé-d”. […]. The learned societies used to hold their “academies” in the rooms on the first floor which are now government offices. The history of the Rector’s Palace is one long and rather confused record of rebuildings diversified with fires and earthquakes, and many famous men had a share in the creation of the beautiful building as it is to-day (pp. 127-128).

 On the stone bench below St. Biagio lounge the town porters; they wear the loose dark blue knickerbockers, short blue coats, white shirt and brilliant red sashes which are the local costume. There they will rest and sleep and talk and smoke through the long summer hours, a lesson in peace and contentment to the restless northerner; they will also if necessary carry weights which no northerner could so much as lift. Sitting on the terrace of the café next to the Rector’s Palace among the oleander bushes, and drinking the excellent Turkish coffee or the interesting local cocktail, a stream of countrywomen may be seen most mornings coming away from the market which is just behind St. Biagio’s church. They have long, very full skirts, brilliant aprons, tight bodices, bright fichus, and generally on their heads a gay folded handkerchief on which rest alas! Wooden boxes largely stencilled with the mystic word “Shell”! The problem of what Dalmatia did for receptacles before the Shell Company invaded it remains forever unanswered; nobody seems to remember. Like the porters, the countrywomen carry incredible weights and certainly substantiate one of the statements of Piero Tafur. When that Spanish knight visited Ragusa in the fifteenth century on his return journey from the Holy Land his only two comments were that the people were very tall and that you could see Italy from the walls! For a traveller of that period fifty per cent of truth and accurate observation is a high standard (pp. 137-138)”.