CHAPTER XIII

ART SINCE THE YEAR 1358

After the departure of the last Venetian Count from Ragusa in 1358, although Hungarian political supremacy succeeded to that of Venice, the artistic and civilising influence of the Most Serene Republic survived, and its impress in the town is unmistakable to this day. The pointed arches in the Venetian Gothic style, the carved balconies, the two-light and three-light windows, the general character of the stonework and sculpture, in spite of certain distinctive features, bear witness to the strength of Venetian example. Venice was the nearest centre of civilisation to Ragusa, and the fountain-head of art. In spite of the jealousy and suspicion which the little Republic always felt towards its powerful neighbour, many Ragusan artists received their training in Venice, while many Venetians came to execute work on the public and private buildings of Ragusa. Venice was not, however, the only city which thus influenced Ragusa; other Italian towns, such as Ancona, Florence, Padua, and Naples, contributed towards her artistic development, in which even Hungary had some small share.

The most important and interesting building in the town is undoubtedly the Rector’s Palace, which is to Ragusa what the Ducal Palace is to Venice. It was commenced by architects inspired by Venetian ideas, and completed by others devoted to Renaissance art. The site of the existing edifice was originally occupied—in the days when the whole town was confined to the seaward ridge, and separated from the mainland by a marshy channel where the Stradone now runs—by a castle as a defence against the Vlach settlement on the opposite side. When this was absorbed, and the marshy channel filled in, the castle was enlarged and strengthened, and later became the seat of the Government and the residence of the Count. Beyond the fact that it was protected by four towers,[504] we know nothing about this early building. Already, in 1272, it was spoken of as a very ancient edifice,[505] and in 1349 the Council decided “quod sala veteris palatii ubi dominus Comes habitat reaptetur et altius elevetur,”[506] which seems to show that it had been allowed to fall into disrepair. In 1388 it was demolished, and on its site the foundations of a larger and more commodious building were laid. The new palace was not completed until 1420, and of this also little is known, as fifteen years later a fire destroyed “the spacious palace of Ragusa, which was in ancient times the castle, together with certain towers, and nearly all the ammunition and arms which were kept for the defence of the city and the armament of the galleys.”[507] “Then the Ragusan Government decided that the Palace should be rebuilt with more magnificent construction, sparing no expense, and that the greater part of the former castle which the fiery flame had not consumed should be levelled with the ground, the architect being a certain Mastro Onofrio Giordani of La Cava, in the kingdom of Naples. The walls are made of ashlar stone (De Diversis was a witness both of the fire and of the reconstruction), finely wrought and very ornamentally carved, with great vaults resting on tall and stout columns, which were brought from Curzola.[508] The capitals, or upper parts of these columns, are carved with great pains. There are five large entire columns, but two other half-columns, one attached to one tower, the other to the other; on the first was carved Æsculapius, the restorer of medical art, at the instigation of that remarkable poet and most learned man of letters, Niccolò de Lazina (Larina or Laziri), a noble of Cremona.... For since he knew, and had learned in his literary studies, that Æsculapius had his origin at Epidaurus, which is now called Ragusa,[509] he took the greatest pains and trouble that his image should be carved on the building, and he composed a metrical epitaph to him, which was fixed in the wall. On a central column of the entrance to the Palace is seen sculptured the first righteous judgment of Solomon. In an angle of the principal door is the likeness of the Rector hearing offences. At the entrance of the Lesser Council, of which I shall have to speak by-and-by, is a certain sculpture of Justice holding a scroll, on which is read as follows: “Jussi summa mei sua vos cuicumque tueri’.”[510]

But even this second palace was destined to suffer a similar fate. On August 8, 1462, it was destroyed by fire and the explosion of the powder magazine. Other buildings were also consumed or greatly damaged, including the Palace of the Grand Council; of the Rector’s Palace the ground floor alone remained. Steps were at once taken to repair the damage, for which purpose the celebrated architects Michelozzo Michelozzi of Florence and Giorgio Orsini of Sebenico were commissioned. Of Michelozzo, who had been a sculptor and a pupil of Donatello, Vasari says: “In one thing he surpassed many, and himself also, namely, that, after Brunelleschi, he was acknowledged the most able architect of his time, the one who most conveniently ordered and disposed the accommodation of palaces, convents, and houses, and the one who showed most judgment in introducing improvements.” He was at Ragusa in 1463 engaged on the town walls, and in 1464 the Senate ordered the palace to be rebuilt according to his designs (11th February). He left Ragusa in June, and was succeeded by Giorgio Orsini of Sebenico. The latter, a scion of a branch of the great Roman family of that name, which had settled in Dalmatia before coming to Ragusa, had helped to rebuild the cathedral of Sebenico. The style of his early work had been Gothic, but even while at Sebenico he was half converted to Renaissance ideas.[511] When he came to Ragusa he had adopted them completely, and his work on the Palace shows no traces of Gothic. Thus we have parts of the building in the Gothic style by Onofrio, and parts in that of the Renaissance by Orsini and Michelozzo. The earthquake of 1667 did some damage to the upper story, but it was soon repaired, and the general character of the structure remains practically unaltered.

The façade consists of two stories, the lower consisting of a loggia of six round arches between two solid structures, while the upper is pierced by eight two-light Venetian Gothic windows. The two solid structures contain windows, and originally supported square towers, of which only the lower parts remain. The capitals of the columns in the loggia are partly Gothic and partly Renaissance work, while the arches which they support are all in the latter style. Examining the capitals in detail, we find that the elaborate half column adorned with the figure of Æsculapius is obviously the work of Onofrio, and so are the other three outer capitals. They are far bolder in design and more perfect in execution than the three classical ones in the centre. The Æsculapius is a very interesting piece of work. It represents an old man seated with an open book in his hand, a number of alembics, retorts, and other scientific instruments by his side, and two men standing beyond, one with a fowl in his hand. It is evidently intended to represent an alchemist or physician giving advice. The capital next to this one is considered by Jackson to be the finest of all: “The tender rigidity of the foliage, the delicate pencilling of the fibres, and the just proportioning of light and shade in this lovely piece of sculpture can hardly be surpassed.”[512] The columns themselves are all by Onofrio, and the wall belongs to the same period, as is proved by an inscription recording the erection of the Palace in 1435.

The three middle capitals, all the heavy abaci, and the round arches which they support are the work of Orsini. It is extremely probable that the original arches of Onofrio were pointed, but that they and the middle capitals were so injured by fire that new ones had to be provided, and Orsini, wishing to give the building as much of a Renaissance character as possible, built round arches in the place of pointed ones. But to do this he had to supply the heavy abaci which we now see in the place of Onofrio’s shallow ones, so as to make the arches high enough to support the vaultings. It is curious that the upper story, above the restored Renaissance arches of the loggia, should belong to the earlier period. According to Mr. Graham Jackson, the explanation lies in the fact that in the restoration the old materials—columns and other adornments—which had fallen without being hopelessly damaged were used. The capitals of the upper windows are small, but excellent in design. Their chief _motif_ is foliage intertwined with faces of human beings and lions. Some of them remind us distantly of the capitals in the Franciscan cloister, although the latter are of course of a much earlier date.

Within the loggia are various sculptured ornaments. The doorway leading into the courtyard is decorated with a little scroll of foliage round the arch, and small half-length human figures. The capitals and imposts are admirably carved with groups of figures full of movement. The impost to the right bears on the front face a group of putti or angels playing various musical instruments, quite in the style of Michelozzo, while on the return face is a group of armed men. Of the left-hand impost the front face is adorned with the figures of a man and woman embracing each other, a boy standing at their side; and the return face, with a group of dancing figures, one of whom is blowing a horn—a curious specimen of perspective. The small brackets whence the vaulting springs are also beautifully carved with groups of men and animals. The best of these is the one with a shepherd boy and a dragon, both full of movement and grace, and likewise interesting in perspective.

All this sculpture is Onofrio’s work, and so is the Porta della Carità to the right, otherwise called the “Porta è l’Officio del Fondico.” Here in times of famine the poor received their doles of bread, sold below cost price or on easy credit. Adjoining is the small door leading to the hall of the Minor Council on the mezzanine floor. To the right and left of the main entrance are rows of carved marble benches. The ones to the right are in double tiers, and here on grand occasions the Rector would sit with the Minor Council, the Archbishop, and, in later times, the Imperial Resident. The lower single-tier seats were for the Grand Council. The whole loggia was known as “sotto i volti.”

The courtyard beyond is a square space surrounded by two tiers of round arches. The whole effect is graceful, attractive, and airy. Both the loggie are vaulted, but the arches of the upper story are twice as numerous as those of the lower. The columns of the latter are of plain classical design, with carved capitals and shallow abaci, of which the foliage is so simple as to recall Romanesque work. The arches are plain and without mouldings. The upper arcade is formed by square piers of masonry, alternating with twin columns, one behind the other. This part of the building is the work of Orsini, but on the wall behind the arcades there are doors and windows in the pointed style of the earlier edifice. Two open-air staircases lead from the courtyard to the upper stories. The principal one, to the left of the entrance, is poor in design, but the general effect is large and stately. The smaller flight to the right leads to the little terrace on the mezzanine floor. The latter has low round arches, but the balustrade is adorned with a Gothic frieze, like that of the seats, “sotto i volti.” At the head of the stairs is a sculptured capital representing the Rector administering justice (the officer here is wearing the traditional _opankas_ or sandals still common in Dalmatia); and opposite is a symbolical female figure of Justice, the “quædam justitiæ sculptura” of De Diversis, holding a scroll with the words, “Jussi summa mei,” and two lions. The draperies are flowing, and not, I venture to think, at all Düreresque, as Mr. Graham Jackson considers. The two lions’ heads and part of the scroll-work has been very clumsily restored. This, again, is Onofrio’s work. In this same loggia is a sculptured group in a niche representing Samson breaking a column, which is probably early quattrocento work, or perhaps even of the end of the fourteenth century. Here and there are other good fragments of carving.

The interior calls for little mention, having been completely restored and modernised. There is, however, one small room on the ground floor, with a wooden ceiling charmingly painted with arabesque designs and gilding, dating, I should imagine, from the sixteenth or early seventeenth century. Below the small loggia is the entrance to the state prisons, very gloomy dungeons indeed, in some of which prisoners were walled up alive. But the worst cells are those under the theatre—a strange contrast; they are below the level of the sea, and flooded at high tide.

On the whole, the Rector’s Palace is the most interesting and beautiful building in Dalmatia, with the exception perhaps of the Romanesque cathedral of Traù. Its graceful design, its perfect proportions, and its many charming details of stone work make of it a worthy rival of many of the famous _palazzi pubblici_ of the Italian towns. It bears a strong analogy to the Loggia dei Mercanti at Ancona, on which some of the same artists were employed. The sculptures, however, labour under one disadvantage, viz. they are carved out of poor material. The Curzola stone, which is admirable for building purposes, for columns, and plain adornments, is not quite hard enough for elaborate sculpture, so that although the designs of the artists may be admirable, the result has sometimes a rough and unfinished appearance. It would form an interesting speculation to study what effect the nature of the material had on the artist. At Ragusa one certainly longs for the accurate and finished work of the Florentines. But nevertheless the Palace of Ragusa is in its way a little masterpiece.

During the Renaissance period a number of new churches and chapels were built at Ragusa, the majority of them quite small. The most beautiful of these is the votive church of San Salvatore, built to commemorate the earthquake of 1520. “This shock caused much spiritual benefit, for many people confessed their sins, and said prayers, and gave alms. Each Sunday the Government with all the people went in procession to implore the Divine mercy, and vowed to build a church in honour of the Saviour, on which it was decided to spend 1500 ducats.... For the building of it Messer Daniele di Resti, Messer Damiano di Menze, and Messer Giunio di Sorgo were appointed Provveditori. These nobles raised the cost to more than 2500 ducats, and the building proceeded so slowly that it was not finished for ten years.”[513] It is said that noble matrons went barefoot carrying materials for the building, but the three noble Provveditori employed the masons for their own private houses as well, and this caused the delay. The façade is a simple but very beautiful specimen of Renaissance architecture, recalling that of the Lombardis’ church of the Madonna dei Miracoli in Venice. Both the façade and the roof are built in the same manner as those of the cathedral of Sebenico. The interior consists of a nave and rounded apse, divided into three bays by classic pilasters. There are some traces of Gothic in the vaulting and narrow side windows adorned with plain tracery. The cornice is arcaded, but each arch contains a Renaissance shell.[514] With regard to the authorship of the building, the acts of the Grand Council mention architects summoned from Italy in 1520, whose names, however, are not given, and one Paduan working at Sebenico. The latter seems to have been Bartolommeo da Mestre, described in the deeds of a Sebenico notary as “protomagister fabricæ Sancti Jacobi,” who was in that town between 1517 and 1525, but absent at Ragusa in 1520. This would explain the similar roof construction in the two churches.[515]

Among the other chapels, that of the Santissima Annunziata deserves mention. The front is unadorned, but in the tympanum of the Gothic doorway is a group of three figures in high relief, representing St. John the Baptist and two other saints. There is much dignity about the figures, but the execution as usual is somewhat rough. This chapel and the one next to it, from which it is separated by a wall space with a rectangular sixteenth-century doorway, are almost under the lee of the town walls, which at this point make an abrupt outward curve, so as to include the Dominican monastery.

Close by is the church of St. Luke, with some good Renaissance decorations and an elaborate tympanum. More important is the church of the Confraternità del Rosario, now desecrated and used as a military storehouse. The interior consists of two naves with a colonnade of three arches, and a low, dark story above. The capitals are of a handsome classical design with good mouldings, but the proportions are bad, the church being much too high for its length.

In the upper part of the town is the interesting little chapel of the Sicurata or Transfigurata, its façade on a tiny piazza, almost a courtyard. To reach it one passes under an old archway with a fig-tree growing out of it. It contains one or two curious paintings. San Niccolò in Prijeki, at the end of the street of that name, has a Renaissance doorway with Ionic columns and a classical pediment, the adornments being very pure and sober; the rosette window is of a wheel pattern common at Ragusa. The belfry is adorned with excellent mouldings and a twisted stringcourse. The date 1607 over the door refers to the restoration, the building being at least eighty or a hundred years older, while the little figure over the door is still more ancient.

Outside the walls, a few minutes from the Porta Pile, is the tiny Chiesa alle Dance, on a rocky beach by the sea, commenced in 1457 as a chapel for the cemetery of the poor, as is attested by the following inscription:—

DIVÆ MARIÆ VIRGINI S.C. DECRETO AD PAUPERIEM SEPUL. EX ÆR. PUB. DOTIBUS VIII IDUS. DECEMRIS. M.CCCCLVII D.

The west door is a handsome piece of Venetian Gothic with mouldings and a sculptured group of the Virgin and Child in the tympanum. To the right is another group on a font. In the front of the church a platform spreads out, where a portico must formerly have been, as there are the bases of six large piers.

Of the lay buildings in Ragusa besides the Rector’s Palace we may mention the clock-tower in the Piazza, and the fountain at the Porta Pile. The latter was built by Onofrio of La Cava on the completion of his great aqueduct, and bears the following inscription:—

P. ONOFRIO I. F. ONOSIPHORO PARTHENOPEO EGREGIO N. I. ARCHTITECTO MUNICIPES.

The story of this aqueduct is rather curious. In previous times the city was supplied with water from cisterns, but in 1437 the Government decided to seek for springs in the Gionchetto hills, and invited Onofrio, who was as excellent a hydraulic engineer as he was an architect, to construct it. The sum of 8000 ducats was devoted to the purpose, but before its completion 12,000 were spent. The people began to say that the enterprise such as Onofrio had designed it was impossible, and he was summoned before the magistrates as an impostor. But the evidence of the experts proved favourable to him, and he succeeded in completing the work in the prescribed time. Nothing remained now to be done but to erect a fountain, and the funds were provided by public subscription. Of this monument only the polygonal basin and a few columns and heads remain. The twelve bas-reliefs of the constellations were destroyed by the earthquake, and so with one exception were the figures of animals round the cornice. Another fountain, also by Onofrio, is the very handsome one in the Piazza, decorated with putti and shells.

There are a few private houses at Ragusa of architectural pretensions. Those of the Stradone were, as I have said, destroyed by the earthquake; but in the Prijeki, a street parallel to the Stradone, on the slope of the Monte Sergio, there are several picturesque old palaces. This thoroughfare is very narrow, and the houses are of great height; many of them are adorned with charming Venetian balconies and fragments of sculpture. The general prospect of this dark, narrow street, lit up here and there by patches of brilliant sunlight, showing some vine pergola clinging on to a broad balcony, or a many-light window in the purest Venetian style, is most striking. One might imagine oneself in Venice, until a side street leading up a steep hillside tells us that we are not in the city of the lagoons. The most remarkable of these houses is the one numbered 170, which has a fine doorway, with a rectangular entablature enclosing a pointed arch. In the corners thus formed are two centaurs, very spirited and full of movement, though not quite perfect in drawing. The balcony above, which is exceptionally wide in proportion to its length, is supported by three carved brackets. The beautiful little balcony with marble colonnade on the palace numbered 316 is a veritable gem of Venetian work. On several other houses there are similar fragments, and others are to be found elsewhere in the town, especially in the streets near the Duomo. The Stradone itself is an attractive thoroughfare, broad, airy, and full of sun. The houses are plain and unadorned, but the rich yellow hue of the Curzola stone of which they are built give them a harmonious appearance. The shops to this day are mostly of a very Eastern appearance, the door and window being formed of a single round arch partly divided by a stone counter which cuts half-way across the opening.

A conspicuous architectural feature of the city is its defences. The town walls form a most perfect circuit, of a beauty and completeness rarely surpassed, even in Italy. From whichever side we approach Ragusa, whether from the sea or by the land gates, we are confronted by an imposing mass of battlemented towers, solid bastions, thick walls and escarpments, which conceal the whole town save the steeples and one or two churches. Few cities present such a perfect picture of a mediæval fortress, and few form so fair a picture—this cluster of fine buildings on steep precipitous rocks rising sheer up out of the azure sea, with the exquisite purple hues of the Dalmatian mountains in the background, and the bright patches of rich vegetation all around. Rarely does one see so admirable a combination of strength and beauty. The walls are pierced by three gates—the Porta Pile, the Porta Ploce, and the sea gate. At the Porta Pile there is a double circuit of walls; the outer gate is a round arch in a semicircular outwork, with gun embrasures on either side. To the right the walls extend seawards to a massive round bastion, and then up the rocky ridge; to the left they ascend the steep hillside to the graceful Torre Menze or Minćeta. On entering this gate the road descends, making a sharp curve, passes under a second arch, and opens out into the Stradone. This leads straight to the Piazza, where the chief public buildings stand. We pass under another arch below the clock tower, and reach the Porta Ploce. This too is approached by a winding road passing over two bridges, one of which was formerly a drawbridge, and under several more arches. The solid mass of the Dominican church and monastery formed part of the defence works. From the road between the Piazza and the Porta Ploce the gate opens out on to the quays of the harbour. The latter is small, and incapable of sheltering large modern steamers, which now always put in at the ample port of Gravosa; but it was quite sufficient for the famous “argosies” which visited every known sea during the heyday of the Republic. It is protected by the huge mass of the Forte Molo and other towers, while the pier built by Pasquale di Michele juts out into the sea. Large walled-up arches led to the shelters for the galleys—“arsenatus galearum domus, in qua triremes pulchræ et biremes resident, quibus armatis, cum opus fuerit, utuntur Ragusini.”[516]

In other parts of the Republic’s territory some few buildings of architectural interest survive. At Gravosa there are no churches of importance, but some fine villas, of which the most remarkable is that of Count Caboga; in the general style of its architecture it recalls the loggia of the Rector’s Palace. It was at Gravosa that the nobles of Ragusa had their _villeggiatura_, and all about among the pleasant groves of the Lapad promontory or on the banks of the Ombla rose many a stately pleasure-house, filled with works of art and books, and surrounded by lovely gardens. Most of them, alas! were plundered and burnt during the French wars and the Montenegrin invasion, and only a few now remain. Other more modern ones have sprung up, some inhabited by the descendants of these same noble families, others by wealthy merchants who have acquired fortunes in America. The villas among the hills at Giochetto and Bergato have nearly all been destroyed.

On the Isola di Mezzo there are two castles, several churches and monasteries, and ruins of other edifices. The principal church is that of Santa Maria del Biscione, on the south side of the island; it is a fifteenth-century building, in the Venetian Gothic style, and contains, among other objects, an altar-piece of quaint design—a group of wooden, painted figures; according to the local tradition they were brought by a native of Mezzo from England, where he had bought them from Henry VIII.’s private chapel, as that monarch, having become a Protestant, was selling its effects by auction. But Professor Gelcich gives extracts from local records, proving it to be seventeenth-century work by one “Magister Urbanus Georgii de Tenum Derfort Banakus fabrolignarius.”[517] The chancel has a good waggon ceiling of blue panels, and some handsome stonework. The Dominican church, also in the Italian Pointed style, is dismantled; its campanile of the fifteenth century has the “midwall shafts” of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries.[518] In the Franciscan monastery, of the same period (1484), there are some beautiful Gothic choir-stalls, of which Mr. Graham Jackson remarks that it is interesting to find that even in this late work the leaves retain “the crisp Byzantine raffling, and are packed within one another and fluted quite in the ancient manner, while the little capitals of the elbow posts have still more thoroughly the look of Byzantine work.”[519] The two castles are little more than picturesque ruins, and scattered about the islands are the remains of some eighteen or twenty chapels; in the village several houses that once belonged to families of position bear traces of carving, Venetian balconies and windows, and coats-of-arms.

At Stagno there are some interesting fortifications of the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. This position was of great strategic value, as it is a narrow isthmus connecting the long peninsula of Sabbioncello with the mainland. A large square castle was erected at Stagno Grande, looking southwards towards Ragusa, another with a round tower at Stagno Piccolo, on the north side of the isthmus, and a third at the top of the hill between the two. Both towns were surrounded by walls;[520] a long wall goes right across the neck of land, and another clambers up the hill to the highest of the three castles and down the other side to Stagno Piccolo. The appearance of these battlemented walls, with towers at frequent intervals, is most impressive, and they were a most remarkable piece of work for their time. They secured Ragusa from attack, whether from the Venetians at the mouths of the Narenta, or from the Slavonic princelings of the hinterland, and later from the Turks. Both in Stagno Grande and in Stagno Piccolo there are some churches and private houses with architectural decorations. The Franciscan monastery at the former place has a cloister in the best Dalmatian style, and in a field near the salt-pans is a small church, which may be of the Romanesque period.

It is obvious that Ragusan architecture was strongly, indeed prevalently, inspired by Venetian example, both in the work which we have called Venetian Gothic and in that of the Renaissance period. Although, as a rule, the earlier artistic forms survived much longer in Dalmatia than in Italy, the Dalmatians showed what Graham Jackson calls “a natural and almost precocious liking for the Renaissance style.” Giorgi Orsini’s work at Sebenico actually preceded that of Leon Battista Alberti at Rimini by nine years. Another peculiarity of Ragusan architecture is that the names of so few of the artists themselves are preserved, and most of those who are remembered were foreigners. There were doubtless many native artists, but Ragusan talent seems to have been of a collective rather than an individual character, and much of the work was probably done by master-masons, stone-cutters, and similar craftsmen, and may have been the outcome of the general artistic feeling of the people rather than the conception of great masters.

In painting the Dalmatians were less conspicuous than in architecture, and if we except the tradition that Carpaccio was a native of Cattaro, we know of no great painter of that country. With regard to Ragusa there are a few specimens of native art, but hardly a record of the life of any painter. Appendini (ii. p. 170) does not know of any Ragusan painter earlier than the fifteenth century, but it is probable that some of the pictures in the Dominican monastery, which are of an earlier date, are by a native brush. Professor Gelcich mentions a guild of painters in the sixteenth century with nineteen members, all so poor that they had to be subsidised by the State. But there is one Ragusan artist whose works are preserved, and whose name at least is recorded. This is Niccolò Raguseo, or Nicolaus Ragusinus as he signs himself. Several of his paintings may be seen in the Dominican monastery and in the Chiesa alle Dance. In the latter he is represented by a triptych of very considerable merit, with a predella and a lunette. The middle panel is a group of the Virgin and Child surrounded by cherubs. The Madonna wears a red robe with a cloak of rich cloth-of-gold, on which an elaborate pattern is picked out in dark blue. This design is not adapted to the folds, but drawn as though on a flat surface. The Child is holding some fruit; the cherubs have scarlet wings, and in the background is a gilt nimbus. At the feet of the Virgin kneels the infant St. John, in whose hands is a scroll with the words: __ VOX CLAMANTIS IN DESERTO DIRIGITE VIAM DNI.

On the plinth of the throne is another inscription:

M. CCCCC.XVII—MENSIS FEBRVARII—— NICOLVAS—RHAGVSINVS—PINGEBAT.

In the right-hand panel is a St. Martin on horseback cutting off half his cloak to give to a beggar. He is attired in a green tunic, over which is a golden coat with a design picked out in red lines; the cloak which is being cut is of a bright scarlet. In the left-hand panel we see St. Gregory holding a crucifix in his hand, with a dove on his shoulder; he is attired in pontifical robes—a richly embroidered cope of cloth-of-gold adorned with a red pattern, and figures of saints in niches along the border. Above is a lunette representing the Crucifixion, with the Virgin, St. Mary Magdalen, St. John, and other figures at the foot of the Cross, and some cherubs. The robe of the Virgin is of a rich deep blue, those of the others red or green. In the background is of gold. The predella is divided into three panels; in the centre one is a St. George and the Dragon, very spirited in composition, and quite in Carpaccio’s manner, with a charming pale blue landscape in the background and a glimpse of the sea. In the right-hand division we see a saint receiving a mitre from two bishops, and surrounded by other bishops, monks, choir-boys, &c. To the left a pope in a golden robe is being crowned by two cardinals; all round is a host of cardinals, bishops, Dominicans and Franciscans, and behind a landscape with smaller figures. The faces are all very pale, and somewhat northern in character, but those of the Virgin and Child in the principal panel are of great tenderness and feeling. In the colouring lies the chief merit of the picture; it is indeed exceptionally rich and brilliant, especially in the robes, which are characteristic of the painter’s work. The whole is enclosed in a handsome carved frame, divided by pillars into compartments. The groundwork of this frame is dark blue, with designs picked out in gold, and adorned with arabesques of a good Renaissance pattern.

On the high altar of this same church is another picture, also attributed to Raguseo. It contains figures of the Virgin and Child, St. Nicholas, St. George, St. Blaize, and St. Francis. It is altogether inferior to the one on the north wall, in a much worse state of preservation, and almost hidden under silver ornaments, plaques, ex-votos, and artificial flowers.

In the Dominican church there are quite a number of early pictures, some of them evidently the work of Raguseo. To the right of the high altar is a large triptych, with St. Stephen the Protomartyr in the centre, St. James and St. Mary Magdalen to the right, St. Nicholas and St. John the Baptist to the left. The St. Stephen is seen absolutely full face, looking straight out of the picture, with an expression of calmness and benevolence. The Magdalen has also a very sweet look, and is beautifully painted. The robes, as in the Dance pictures, are all very rich and splendid, especially that of St. Stephen, which is of gold, with the pattern diapered in dark lines and adorned with figures of saints along the border.

To the left of the high altar is another triptych in the same style: the Virgin and Child, the former with a lily in her hand and the moon lying at her feet, surrounded by cherubs, in the centre; St. Paul and St. Blaize to the right; St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine to the left. The St. Blaize bears in his hands an interesting model of Ragusa, in which one can make out three large towers and several small ones. The gold background has been restored, and is rather too garish.

In a side chapel is yet another Raguseo—a Madonna and Child, supported by St. Julian, St. James, St. Dominic, and St. Matthew. The drawing is bold and strong, perhaps more so than in any of the artist’s other works, and some of the faces, especially that of the Child, very fascinating: the robes, as usual, are magnificent. That of the Virgin forms a curiously stiff platform, on which the infant Christ is standing. Below are two little angels, one holding a lily and the other roses. In the background is a faint suggestion of landscape. Unfortunately, the lower part of the picture has been barbarously mutilated to make room for a window.

These, with the possible exception of one or two more paintings in the Isola di Mezzo, are the only known works of this artist. Who he was, what was his story, where he worked, remain a mystery. From the date on the Dance triptych we learn that he flourished at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and it is fairly certain that he must have studied in Italy. His style distinctly shows traces of the influence of Crivelli’s school, and in this, as in other arts, the Dalmatians continued to work in the older manner long after it had been abandoned in Italy. Professor Gelcich doubts if this painter were really a native of Ragusa at all, arguing that if he had been he would not have called himself Rhagusinus in his own city. It is of course unusual (though not unheard of) that an artist should call himself by the name of his own town while actually living in it; but in this case he may have done so because the Ragusans were so used to having their pictures painted by foreigners, that when a native of the town actually painted them the fact was worthy of being especially recorded. But it is mere conjecture, as there is no mention of him or of his work in any known document. Perhaps some day a record of his life may be found in some forgotten MS., or obscure municipal entry, or in the list of the pupils of some Venetian master. Professor Eitelberger says that these pictures “bear some resemblance to certain paintings in the Marca of Ancona; it is not impossible, however, that even from Apulia some influence may have reached the Ragusan painters, but we have too little information to enable us to express an opinion as to the connection between the Ragusan school and that of Italy.”[521]

Appendini says nothing about Raguseo, although he speaks of some other native artists whose works are nearly all lost. It will be sufficient to recall the names of Pietro Grgurić-Ohmučević, who painted some pictures at Sutjeska[522] and flourished about 1482; Vincenzo di Lorenzo, who in 1510 decorated a church and monastery at Trebinje; Biagio Darsa, author of a pictorial globe and some studies of perspective; and Francesco da Ragusa, one of whose works is said to be in Rome, and another at Brescia (1600-1620). We may also mention the handsome altar in the Franciscan sacristy, the work of a painter and a sculptor, both unknown; it is constructed in the form of a press or cabinet, and is adorned with some excellent gilt carving and a number of paintings, of which the most important is a Resurrection of Christ. Internally it is also painted, but by a later hand.

There are at Ragusa several pictures by foreign painters, but with few exceptions they are of little merit. The most interesting is undoubtedly the small triptych in the cathedral by a Flemish artist, which was carried by the Ragusan ambassadors when they went to Constantinople with the tribute to the Sultan as a portable altar. The subject is the Adoration of the Magi. In the centre panel the Virgin is seated with the Child on her lap: He is kneeling and extending His right hand to the oldest of the kings, who has placed his sceptre and gifts at the feet of the Saviour; behind Him is another king also offering gifts, and through the arches at the back one sees a landscape. On the left-hand wing stands the third king, a Moor, and behind him is a group of figures and a landscape. On the right is a bald-headed man in a rich robe, probably the donor, with a castle in the background. This work is undoubtedly of the Flemish school, and, according to Eitelberger,[523] is reminiscent of Memling. “The technique,” he says, “is extraordinarily careful, and the picture, in spite of having been damaged by wax candles, is yet so well preserved that it needs only the hand of a good restorer for it to make a great impression even on the uninitiated. The head of the Virgin has an expression of lovingness and purity such as is peculiar to the Flemish school alone.” As to how it found its way to Ragusa we know nothing. Eitelberger conjectures that it must have come from Naples, as the Republic was in constant intercourse with that city, which in its turn had connections with Flanders, and the Neapolitan painters were greatly under the influence of Flemish art. But it is quite possible that it came direct from the Low Countries to Ragusa, where, as we have seen, there was a colony of Flemish merchants.

Of the other foreign paintings at Ragusa the following deserve notice: a head of Christ by Pordenone; a head of St. Catherine by Palma Vecchio; four pictures by Padovanino of second-rate interest; an Assumption of the Virgin attributed to Titian, but certainly not genuine, though possibly by a pupil; a spurious Andrea del Sarto, and an equally spurious Raphael. All these are in the Duomo. In the Dominican church is a St. Mary Magdalen, attributed to Titian, and probably that master’s genuine work. One or two more Titians of very questionable authenticity may be seen at the Isola di Mezzo and at Cannosa.

A form of art which flourished exceedingly at Ragusa was goldsmith’s work. The goldsmiths and silversmiths of Dalmatia were famous, and many of the church treasuries in the country are very rich and splendid. That of the cathedral of Ragusa is one of the finest, in spite of the earthquake and the depredations of the freebooters after that calamity. Its two most interesting pieces, however, are not by natives of Ragusa. One is an enamelled casket enclosing the skull of St. Blaize. The groundwork of copper is concealed by twenty-four plaques of metal, on which enamel and filigree are laid; each of them, save four triangular plaques on the top, contains a medallion with the head of a saint in the centre, the name written in Lombardic letters. The surface not covered by the plaques is filled in with the most delicate enamels of flowers, fruit, leaves, pearls, insects, and scroll work. This reliquary is said by Resti to have been brought to Ragusa in 1026, but Graham Jackson proves it to belong to two widely different periods. The medallions are Byzantine work of the eleventh or twelfth century, whereas the intervening scrolls of flowers, &c., are of a much later date, and, in fact, Jackson discovered the inscription in a corner of the lower edge: “Fran^{co}. Ferro Venet^o. F. A. 1694.”[524]

Another treasure is the curious silver-gilt basin and ewer attributed to Giovanni Progonović, a jeweller of the fifteenth century, but more probably foreign work, as the plate mark—an N within a circle—is not that of Ragusa.[525] The ewer contains imitations of bunches of dried leaves and grasses in silver, and the basin is strewn with ferns and leaves, in the midst of which creep lizards, eels, snakes, and other animals, all wrought in silver, and enamelled and tinted so as to deceive one into believing them real. It is an extraordinary piece of work, but more strange than beautiful. It is probably not older than the early seventeenth century. There are many other specimens of the jeweller’s art in this collection, reliquaries, chalices, cups, &c., mostly by natives, and some of them very handsome.

The little silver statuette of St. Blaize in the church of that saint is interesting historically as well as artistically, because the figure bears a model of the town before the great earthquake. The head is excellent both in expression and workmanship, and the exquisitely chased chasuble reminds one of the robes in Raguseo’s paintings. The original figure is, according to Graham Jackson, as old as the church, _i.e._ about 1360, but it has been restored at various times. The mitre, the crook of the pastoral staff, and the dalmatic have been renewed, while the lower part of the statuette has evidently been cut away. The model shows us the Ragusa of the fourteenth or fifteenth century, not very different from that of to-day, save for the Duomo and the church of San Biagio, which have been rebuilt, and the little church of the Three Martyrs of Cattaro in the Stradone, which has disappeared. Many of the houses in that street have gabled fronts and some have projecting pents to shelter the shops. The Orlando column supports a huge standard.

At Mezzo is preserved some church plate, of which the most beautiful piece is a large silver-gilt chalice. On the foot is a figure of St. Blaize in relief, and on the lower part of the cup are the emblems of the four Evangelists. The handles are formed by two graceful little angels poised with one foot on the top and the other hanging in the air, their hands clinging on to the edge of the cup. The hall-mark—a bishop’s head—is that of Ragusa, and the chalice is probably Mezzo work, the island having been famous for its goldsmiths. Many other specimens of this art exist in the various churches of Ragusa and the neighbourhood, and some perhaps may be found in those of other parts of Dalmatia, and in the monasteries of Bosnia, the Herzegovina, and Albania.