Bearing away now to the W. we entered the valley of the Druga, a little rocky stream. Two roads were reported practicable, the longer taking a winding course past Rachitna, the other, which I selected, being more direct, but far more rocky and difficult; the ascent at one point was more severe than anything I ever recollect having seen.
Leaving Druga we descended into the plain of Swynyatcha, a small open space, which is again connected with Duvno by a pass. The hills on the left of this pass are called Liep, those on the right Cesarussa. Here, too, report speaks of the existence of a city in former days, and the discovery of a large hag of gold coins, like Venetian sequins, has induced some speculative spirit to commence excavations on a large scale. But these, I regret to say, have not as yet been attended with any success. A very fair road has been recently made through this pass, and the traffic which has resulted from it ought to convince the people of the utility of its construction. We met many ponies carrying merchandise from Livno to Mostar, while long strings of carts drawn by eight bullocks were employed in carrying wood to the villages in the plain of Duvno. These carts are roughly built enough, but answer the purpose for which they are intended, viz. slow traffic in the plains. The axle-trees and linch-pins are made of wood, and indeed no iron at all is used in their construction. The plain of Duvno is one of the largest in the province: its extreme length is about fifteen miles, and villages are placed at the foot of the hills, round its entire circumference. The most important of these is the seat of a Mudir, to whom I proceeded at once on my arrival. Although afflicted with a hump-back, he was a person of most refined manners. His brother-in-law, Mahmoud Effendi, who is a member of the Medjlis, was with him, and added his endeavours to those of the Mudir to render my stay at Duvno agreeable. Having complimented the great man upon the appearance of his Mudirlik, he laughingly replied, 'Oh, yes, they must work because it is so cold'—a statement which I felt anything but disposed to question. The wind was blowing down the plain at the time in bitterly cold blasts, and I understand that such is always the case. The vegetation appeared good, in spite of a seeming scarcity of water.
The people of the district are nearly all Catholics, which may be attributed to its proximity to Dalmatia and the convents of Bosnia. They are orderly and well-behaved, according to the Mudir's account; but I also gathered from some Catholics to whom I spoke that this good behaviour results from fear more than love, as the few Turks have it all their own way. In the centre of the plain are some old tombs, some of a sarcophagus shape, others merely rough flat stones, whilst here and there interspersed may be seen some modern crosses—a strange admixture of the present and the past. After a somewhat uncomfortable night in the one khan which the town possesses, I presented myself with early dawn at the house of the Mudir. Although not yet 8 o'clock, I found him with the whole Medjlis in conclave around him. Thence the entire party accompanied me to inspect the fort, or such part of it as had escaped the ravages of time. It was rather amusing to see the abortive attempts at climbing of some of these fur-coated, smoke-dried old Mussulmans, who certainly did not all equal the Mudir in activity. The fort is a quadrilateral with bastions, and gates in each of the curtains; in two of the bastions are eight old guns, dismounted: these are all of Turkish manufacture, some having iron hoops round the muzzles.
In the SW. corner is a round tower, evidently copied from the Roman, if not of genuine Roman origin. For what purpose the fort was built, or by whom, I was unable to learn. It is said, however, to have been constructed about two centuries ago[U], and there is a Turkish inscription on it to that effect; but, as I have said before, no reliance can be placed upon these. There are many buildings within the walls, and one mosque is reputed to have existed a hundred years before the rest of the fort.
Shortly after leaving the village we arrived at the frontier line of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which is, however, unmarked. Already the country presented a greener and more habitable appearance, which increased as we continued our journey. Towards evening we stopped at a little village named Vidosa, where the uncle of my hunting companions held the post of parish priest. Having sent one of his nephews in advance to warn him of my arrival, he was waiting to receive me, and invited me to stay at his house with great cordiality. Notwithstanding that the greater portion of it had been destroyed by fire a few months previously, I was very comfortably housed, and fully appreciated a clean bed after the rough 'shakes down' to which I was accustomed. That the kitchen was luxuriously stocked, I am not prepared to say; but the priest was profuse in his apologies for the absence of meat, proffering as an excuse that Roman Catholics do not eat it on Friday, a reason which would scarcely hold good, as I arrived on a Saturday. Of eggs and vegetables, however, there was no lack. Vegetable diet and dog Latin are strong provocatives of thirst, and the number of times that I was compelled to say 'ad salutem' in the course of the evening was astonishing. The old priest appeared more accustomed to these copious libations than his younger assistant, who before he left the table showed unmistakable signs of being 'well on.' Both vicar and curate wore moustachios, and the flat-topped red fez, which distinguishes their profession. The curate had received a certain amount of education at one of the Bosnian convents, whence he had been sent to Rome, where he had, at any rate, attained a tolerable proficiency in Italian, and a few words of French. Another occupant of the house, who must not be allowed to go unmentioned, was the priest's mother, a charming old lady in her ninety-seventh year. Age had in no way impaired her faculties, and she was more active and bustling than many would be with half her weight of years.
In the evening the nephews made their appearance, having dined with the domestics. The remaining hours were devoted to singing, if such can be termed the monotonous drawl which constitutes the music of the country. In this one of the brothers was considered very proficient: the subjects of the songs are generally legendary feats of Christians against the conquering Turks, which, however little they may have conduced to bar the progress of the invaders, sound remarkably well in verse. Sometimes, as in the present case, the voice is accompanied by the guesla, a kind of violin with one or three strings.
The priest, although a man of small education and strong prejudices, appeared to be possessed of much good sense. He deplored the state of things in Herzegovina, and said that much misery would ensue from it, not only there, but in all the neighbouring provinces. As an instance of the severity of the government demands, he mentioned that 1,400 baggage-horses had been recently taken from the district of Livno alone, as well as more than 400 horse-loads of corn, for all of which promises of payment only had been made. For the accuracy of his statements I am not prepared to vouch, but I give them as they were given to me. He did not, however, complain so much of the quantity, as of the injudicious mode of proceeding, in making such large demands at one time.
A few hours took me to the town of Livno, on the outskirts of which is the Catholic convent. Mass was being performed at the time; but I found the Guardiano, 'Padre Lorenzo,' and one of the Fratri disengaged. After keeping me waiting for some time in a very cold vaulted room, these two came to me, though their reception of me contrasted very unfavourably with that of the simple village priest. The convent is for monks of the Franciscan order, of whom there were five besides the Superior. It is a large, rambling, and incomplete building of white stone, and in no way interesting, having only been completed about six years. After mass came dinner, which was provided more with regard to quantity than quality, and at which the holy men acquitted themselves à merveille. Excepting a young priest of delicate appearance and good education, the brethren appeared a surly and ill-conditioned set. So ill-disguised was the discontent conveyed in the ungracious 'sicuro' vouchsafed in reply to my petition for a bed, that I ordered my traps to be conveyed forthwith to the best khan in the town, and, having failed to find favour with the Christians, sought the aid of the Mussulman Kaimakan, from whom at any rate my English blood and Omer Pacha's Buruhltee insured me advice and assistance.
The Austrian Consul also received me with much civility, and most obligingly placed his house at my disposal, although compelled to start for Spolatro on business. For some reason best known to himself, he begged of me to return to Mostar, insisting on the impracticability of travelling in Bosnia in the present state of political feeling. This, coupled with the specimen of priestly civility which I had experienced in the convent of Goritza, inclined me to alter the route which I had proposed to myself by Foinitza to Bosna Serai. In lieu of this route, I resolved upon visiting Travnik, the former capital of Bosnia, before proceeding to Bosna Serai (or Serayevo, as it is called in the vernacular), the present capital of the province. In fulfillment of this plan, I started on the morning of the 21st, though suffering from fever and headache, which I attributed to a cold caught in the damp vaults of the Franciscan convent. With each successive day my illness became more serious, and it was with difficulty that I could sit my horse during the last day's journey before reaching Travnik. At one of the khans en route, I put myself into the hands of the Khanjee, who with his female helpmate prescribed the following remedies:—He directed me to place my feet in a basin of almost boiling tea, made out of some medicinal herbs peculiar to the country, the aroma from which was most objectionable. He then covered me with a waterproof sheet which I carried with me, and, when sufficiently cooked, lifted me into bed. Though slightly relieved by this treatment, the cure was anything but final; and on my arrival at Travnik I was far more dead than alive. There an Hungarian doctor, to whom I had letters of introduction, came to visit me, and prescribed a few simple remedies. One day I hazarded the remark that stimulants were what I most required; upon which the learned doctor observed, with proper gravity, that brandy would probably be the most efficacious remedy, as he had often heard that English soldiers lived entirely on exciting drinks. Ill as I was, I could scarcely refrain from laughing at the drollery of the idea.
After a few days' stay at Travnik my medical adviser began, I fancy, to despair of my case; and on the same principle as doctors elsewhere recommend Madeira to hopeless cases of consumption, he advised me to continue my journey to Bosna Serai. The difficulty was to reach that place. Here, however, the Kaimakan came to my help, and volunteered to let out on hire an hospital-cart belonging to the artillery. I accepted his offer, and after a few days' stay at Travnik set forward on my journey to Bosna Serai. The carriage was a species of Indian dâk ghari, with side doors, but without a box-seat; it was drawn by artillery horses, ridden by two drivers, while a sergeant and gunner did escort duty. Fortunately the vehicle had springs, which must have suffered considerably from the jolting which it underwent, although we only proceeded at a foot's pace.