This and innumerable other manifestations of Prussianism were brought to the attention of the French, so that it was not surprising when a Frenchman made a few remarks in the Rijeć of Zagreb. His article, entitled "Mise au point," begins by a reference to the Yugoslav cockades which were sometimes worn by the French sailors. This, to the Italians, was as if an ally in the reconquered towns of Metz and Strasbourg had sported the colours of an enemy. "The cases are not parallel," says the Frenchman. "You have come to Rieka and to Pola as conquerors of towns that were exhausted, yielding to the simultaneous and gigantic pressure of the Allied armies. These towns gave themselves up. Are they on that account your property, and are we to consider as a dead-letter the clauses of the Armistice which settled that Pola should be occupied by the Allies? I am not so dexterous a diplomat as to be able to follow you along this track; let it be decided by others. But we who were present perceived that your occupation, which you had regulated in every detail, had a close resemblance to the entry of a circus into some provincial town, whose population is known beforehand to be of a hostile character. It is needless to say that this masquerade, these vibrating appeals to fraternity that were placarded upon the walls gave us in that grey, abandoned town an impression of complete fiasco." ["It is significant," writes Mr. Beaumont the Italophil, "that the Slav population ... observe an attitude of strange reserve and diffidence. They are silent and almost sullen. When the Italian fleet first visited Pola there was hardly a cheer....">[ "Now let me tell you," says the Frenchman, "that our entry into Alsace was different. Foch was not obliged to send emissaries in advance in order to decorate the houses with flags and to erect triumphal arches. The French cockades had not nestled in the dark hair of our Alsatian women since 1870, for forty-eight years the tricolors had been waiting, piously folded at the bottom of those wooden chests, waiting for us to float them in the wind of victory—nous rentrions chez nous tout simplement. Or, vous n'êtes pas chez vous ici, messieurs." ["Common reserve and decency should have induced the Jugo-Slavs to abstain," says Mr. Beaumont, "from rushing to take a place to which they were not invited ... an exclusively Italian city.">[ "Whatever you may assert," says the Frenchman, "everything seems to contradict it. Your actors play their parts with skill, but the public is frigid. Now the decorations are tattered and the torches on the ramparts have grown black.... Permit me, following your example, and with courtesy, to call back the glories of old Italy, to remind myself of the great figures that stride through your history and that give to the world an unexampled picture of the lofty works of man. Our sailors, who are simple and often uncultured men, have no remembrance of these things; the brutal facts, in this whirling age in which we live, have more power to strike their imagination. What is one to say to them when they see their comrades stabbed, slaughtered by your men as if they were noxious animals—yesterday at Venice, the day before that at Pola, to-day at Rieka. Englishmen and Americans, your Allies, receive your 'sincere and fraternal hand' which holds a dagger. As a method of pacific penetration you will avow that this is rather rudimentary and that the laws of Romulus did not teach you such fraternity. We have also seen you striking women in the street and disembowelling a child. What are we to think of that, fratelli d'Italia? Excuse us, but we are not accustomed to such incidents. Is it not natural that the legendary, gallant spirit of our sailors should infect the crowd? Our bluejackets have looked in vain for the three colours which are dear to them and which you have excluded utterly from all your rows of flags. Well, in default of them, they had no choice but to array themselves in the cockades which dainty hands pinned on their uniforms.... And our 'poilus,' in their faded, mud-smeared garments walk along 'your' streets, disdainfully regarded by your dazzling and pomaded Staff. Do you remember that these unshaven fellows who thrust back the Boche in 1918 are the descendants of those who in 1793 conquered Italy and Europe with bare feet? Therefore do not strike your breasts if now and then a smile involuntarily appears upon their lips. O you who henceforth will be known as the immortal heroes of the Piave, if our fellows see to-day so many noble breasts, it was not seldom that they saw another portion of your bodies."
ECONOMIC CONSIDERATIONS
"Yes, but that has nothing to do," some people will say, "with Rieka's economical position. We admit that Croatia has the historical right to the town, but we wish to be satisfied that the Croats are not moved by reasons that would cause Rieka's ruin. It may be nowadays, owing to the unholy alliance between Magyars and Italians, that the town, with respect to its trade, is more in the Italian sphere than in that of Yugoslavia." The answer to this is that Italy's share of the value of the imports into Rieka in 1911 was 7·5 per cent. of the total, while her share of the value of the exports amounted to 13 per cent., which proves that Italy depends commercially more on Rieka's hinterland than does that hinterland upon Italy. It seems to be of less significance that the millionaires of Rieka are mostly Croats, for they might conceivably have enriched themselves by trade with Italy. But of the nine banks, previous to the War the Italianists were in exclusive possession of none, while the Croats had four; of the eight shipping companies three were Croat, three were Magyar, one British, one German—not one Italian. It is true that some Italian writers lay it down that Rieka's progress should be co-ordinated with that of Venice, to say nothing of Triest, and should not be exploited by other States to the injury of the Italian Adriatic ports. Their point of view is not at all obscure. And all disguise is thrown to the winds in a book which has had a great success among the Italian imperialists: L'Adriatico et il Mediterraneo, by Mario Alberti (Milan, 1915—third edition). The author says that Italy, having annexed Triest and Rieka, will be "assured for ever"; her "economic penetration" of the Balkans "will no longer be threatened" by the projected Galatz-Scutari (Danube-Adriatic) railway; Italian agriculture which, he says, is already in peril, "will be rescued"; the Italian fisherman will no longer have the ports of Triest and Rieka closed (for exportation to Germany and Austria); the national wealth will be augmented by "several milliards"; new fields will be open to Italian industry; her economic (and military) domination over the Adriatic will be absolute. There will, he continues, be no more "disturbing" competition on the part of any foreign mercantile marine; the Adriatic will be the sole property of Italy, and so on. It would be worth while, as a study of expressions, to photograph a few Rieka Italianists in the act of reading these rapturous pages.... But lest it be imagined that I have searched for the most feeble pro-Italian arguments in order to have no difficulty in knocking them down, I will add that their strongest argument, taken as it is from the official report of the French Consul in 1909, appears to be that the commerce of Croatia amounted then to only 7 per cent. of the total trade of the port of Rieka. I am told by those who ought to know that wood alone, which comes almost exclusively from Croatia, Slavonia, etc., represents 16 per cent. If other products, such as flour, wine, etc., are considered, 50 per cent. of the total trade must be ascribed to Croatia, Slavonia, etc. And that does not take into account the western Banat and other Yugoslav territories. Serbia, too, would now take her part, so that there is no need to fear for the position of a Yugoslav Rieka based solely—omitting Hungary and the Ukraine altogether—on her Yugoslav hinterland. Rieka without Yugoslavia would be ruined and would degenerate into a fishing village, with a great past and a miserable future. This could very well be seen during the spring of 1919 when the communications were interrupted between Rieka and Yugoslavia. At Rieka during April eggs were 80 centimes apiece, while at Bakar, a few miles away, they cost 25 centimes; milk at Rieka was 6 crowns the litre and at Bakar one crown; beef was 30 crowns a kilo and at Bakar 8 crowns. Italy was calling Rieka her pearl—a pearl of great price; the Yugoslavs said it was the lung of their country. It is within the knowledge of the Italianists that the prosperity of Rieka would not be advanced by making her the last of a chain of Italian ports, but rather by making her the first port of Yugoslavia. What has Italy to offer in comparison with the Slovenes and the Croats? The maritime outlet of the Save valley, as well as of the plains of Hungary beyond it, is, as Sir Arthur Evans points out, the port of Rieka. And, in view of the mountainous nature of the country which lies for a great distance at the back of Split and of Dubrovnik, it would seem that Rieka—and especially when the railway line has been shortened—will be the natural port of Belgrade.
THE TURNCOAT MAYOR
One cannot expect in a place with Rieka's history that such considerations as these will be debated, calmly or otherwise, but at all events on their own merits. They will be approached with more than ordinary passion, since so many of the people of Rieka have been turncoats. Any man who changes sides in his religion or his nationality or politics—presuming, and I hope this mostly was so at Rieka, that his reasons were not base—that man will feel profoundly on these matters, more profoundly than the average person of his new religion, nationality or politics. He will observe the ritual, he will give utterance to his thoughts with such an emphasis that his old comrades will dislike him and his new associates be made uneasy. Thus a convert may not always be the most delightful creature in the garden, and he is abundant at Rieka. As an illustration we may study Dr. Vio. Many persons have repeated that he has a Croat father, yet they should in fairness add that his father's father came from Venice. But if he came from Lapland, that ought to be no reason why the present Dr. Vio should not, if he so desires, be an Italian. If he had, when he arrived at what is usually called the age of discretion, inscribed himself among the sons of Italy—à la bonheur. But he took no such step. He came out as a Croat of the Croats, for when he had finished his legal studies he became a town official, but discovered that his views—for he was known as an unbending Croat—hindered his advancement. The party in possession of the town council, the Autonomist party, would have none of him. At last he, in disgust, threw up his post and went into his father's office. He was entitled, after ten years' service, to a pension; the Autonomists refused to grant it for the reason that he was so dour a Croat. Very often, talking with his friends, did Dr. Vio mention this. He made a successful appeal to the Court at Buda-Pest and a certain yearly sum was conceded to him, which he may or may not be still obtaining. Then, to the amazement of the Croats, he renounced his nationality and became—no, not an Italian—a Magyar. He was now one of those who called Hungary his "Madre Patria," and as a weapon of the ruling Hungarian party he was employed against the Italianists. In the year 1913 the deputy for Rieka died and Dr. Vio was a candidate, his opponent being one of the Italianist party, Professor Zanella. Dr. Vio had the support of the Government officials, railway officials and so forth, and was elected. Now he was a Magyar of the Magyars: Hungarian police officials were introduced, and Magyar, disregarding the town statutes, was employed by them as sole official language. The citizens still speak of those police.... The War broke out, and Dr. Vio donned a uniform, serving chiefly on the railway line between Rieka and Zagreb. Gradually he seems to have acquired the feeling that it was unnatural for him to be a Magyar of the Magyars, even though he was compelled, like so many others, to wear this uniform. But one day in 1916 when his friend and fellow-officer, Fran Šojat, teacher at the High School at Sušak, walked into his room at Meja, when he happened to be putting little flags upon a map, he prophesied—King Peter and the Tzar would have been glad to hear him. Presently, he had himself elected as the mayor, which enabled him to leave an army so distasteful to him. How long would he wait until he publicly became a Croat once again? He did not doubt that the Entente would win, and told that same friend Šojat that Rieka on the next day would be Croat. To another gentleman in June of 1918 he said he hoped that he would be the first Yugoslav mayor of the town, and on that day, out hunting, he sang endless Croat songs. In September, to the mayor of Sušak, "You will see," he said, "how well we two as mayors will work together." When the Croat National Council entered into office at the end of October he again met Mr. Šojat, just as he was going up to that interview in the Governor's Palace. "Jesam li ja onda imao pravo, jesi li sada zadovoljan?" he said. ("Was I not right that time? Are you satisfied now?") Joyfully he pressed Mr. Šojat's hand and greeted the two other persons who were with him. And Mr. Šojat was pleased to think that Vio would now be a good Croat, as of old. But on the following day he was an Italian.
HIS FERVOUR
When I went up to see this variegated gentleman—whose personal appearance is that of a bright yellow cat—he purred awhile upon the sofa and then started striding up and down the room. As he sketched the history of the town, which, he said, had always been Italian and would insist on being so, he spoke with horror of the days when Jellačić was in control, and then, remembering another trouble, he raised both his hands above his head and brought them down with such a crash upon the desk where I was writing his remarks that—but nobody burst in; the municipal officials were accustomed to his conversation. He was reviling at that moment certain Allied officers who had not seen fit to visit him. "I care not!" he yelled. "We are Italian! I tell you we are Italianissimi!" (He was glad enough, however, when his brother Hamlet, who had remained a Yugoslav and was on friendly terms with the chief of the carabinieri, managed to obtain for the mayor a passport to Italy, concerning which the carabinieri had said that they must first of all apply to Rome.) The doctor was sure that Yugoslavia would not live, for it had two religions; and another notable defect of the Croats—"I speak their language quite well," he said—was that in the whole of Rieka not one ancient document was in Croatian. I was going to mention that everywhere in Croatia until 1848 they were in Latin—but he saw what I was on the point of saying and—"Look here! look here!" he cried, "now look at this!" It was a type-written sheet in English, whereon was recounted how the mayor had offered to four Admirals, who came to Rieka on behalf of their four nations, how he had, in order to meet them in every way—"They asked me," he said, with blankness and indignation and forgiveness all joined in his expression—it was beautifully done—"they asked me, the Italian mayor of this Italian town, whether it was truly an Italian town!"—well, he had offered to take a real plebiscite, on the basis of the last census, and the Admirals, while appreciating his offer, had not availed themselves of it. (Maybe some one had told them how the census officials, chiefly members of the "Giovani Fiumani," had gone round, asking the people whether they spoke Italian and usually filling in the papers themselves. Presumably the mayor did not propose to allow anyone who had then been described as an Italian now to call himself Croat.) I was just calculating what he was in 1910 when he played a trump card and begged me to go up to the cemetery and take note of the language used for the epitaphs. Then let me return to him on the morrow and say what was the nationality of Rieka. There seemed to be the question if in such a town where Yugoslavs so often use Italian as the business language, many of them possibly might use it as the language of death; as it happened the first Yugoslav to whom I spoke about this point—a lawyer at whose flat I lunched the following day—produced a little book entitled Regolamento del Cimitero comunale di Fiume, and from it one could see that in the local cemetery the blessed principle of self-determination was in fetters. Chapter iii. lays down that all inscriptions must have the approval of the civic body. You are warned that they will not approve of sentences or words which are indecent, and that they prohibit all expressions and allusions that might give offence to anyone, to moral corporations, to religions, or which are notoriously false. No doubt, in practice, they waive the last stipulation, so that the survivors may give praise to famous or to infamous men; but I am told that they raised fewer difficulties for Italian wordings, and that the stones which many people used—those which the undertakers had in stock, with spaces left for cutting in the details—were invariably in Italian.... I hope I have not given an unsympathetic portrait of the mayor who has about him something lovable. Whatever Fate may have in store for Rieka, Dr. Vio is so magnificent an emotional actor that his future is assured. I trust it will be many years before a stone, in Croat, Magyar or Italian, is placed above the body of this volatile gentleman.... And then perhaps the deed of his administrative life that will be known more universally than any other will be the omission of an I from certain postage stamps. When the old Hungarian stamps were surcharged with the word Fiume, the sixty-third one in every sheet of half an edition was defective and was stamped Fume.[19]
THREE PLEASANT PLACES
In the immediate neighbourhood of Rieka, across the bay, lies Abbazia, which Nature and the Austrians have made into a charming spot. By the famous "Strandweg" that winds under rocks and palm and laurel, you go to Volosca in the easterly and to Lovrana in the westerly direction. Just at the back of all these pretty places stands the range of Istria's green mountains. More than twenty years ago a certain Dr. Krstić, from the neighbourhood of Zadar, conceived the happy thought of printing, in the peasant dialect, a newspaper which would discourse on Italy in articles no peasant could resist. He was given subsidies, and for some time the newspaper was published at Volosca. But perhaps the peasants did not read it any more than those near Zadar would take in the Pravi Dalmatinac ("The Real Dalmatian"), which attempted a few years previous to the War to preach sectionalism to the Serbo-Croats. The Italians who came to the Abbazia district in November 1918 did not try such methods. In the combined commune of Volosca-Abbazia the population at the 1910 census consisted of 4309 Yugoslavs, 1534 German-Austrians, and 418 Italians. Most of the 418 had never seen Italy; the only true Italians were some officials who had come from other parts of Istria. The official language was Italian, which was regarded as more elegant. The district doctor was Italian, but all the other 29 non-official doctors were either Germans, Czechs or Croats. At Volosca eighteen years ago there was no Croat school; when one was opened the Italian school at once lost half its membership and before the War had been reduced to 25 pupils. Before the War at Abbazia the Croat school had six classes, while the Italian had ceased for lack of patronage. The German school had 160 pupils; this has now been dissolved, the pupils being mostly sent to the re-opened Italian school. Thus it will be seen that efforts were required to Italianize these places. The efforts were continued even during the War, it is said by the ex-Empress Zita. At any rate the people who had altered their Italian names saw that they had been premature and reassumed their former ones. They reassumed the pre-war privileges: at Lovrana, for example, they "ran" the village, not having allowed any communal elections since 1905 and arranging that their Croat colleagues in the council should all be illiterate peasants. Some Italians were interned in 1915, as the Croats had been in 1914, but the council came again into their hands. At the meetings they had been obliged, owing to the council's composition, to talk Croatian; but their own predominance was undisturbed. On their return to power during the War they displayed more generosity, and admitted even educated Croats to the council. And if such out-and-out Italians as the Signori Grossmann, Pegan, etc. of Lovrana were kinder to the Yugoslavs than the Signori Grbac, Korošać and Codrić of Rieka it may be because the gentle spirit of the place affected them. The leading families would even intermarry; Signor Gelletich, Lovrana's Italian potentate, gave his sister to the Croat chieftain. But, as we have said, idylls had to end when in November 1918 the Italian army came upon the scene. Abbazia and Volosca and Lovrana were painted thoroughly in the Italian colours. Public buildings, private houses—irrespective of their inmates—had patches of green, white and red bestowed upon them. Everything was painted—some occupation had to be found for the military, who appeared to be more numerous than the inhabitants. Meanwhile, their commanding officers had other brilliant ideas: an Italian kindergarten was opened at Volosca, and the peasant women of the hills around were promised that if they came with their children to the opening ceremony, every one of them would be rewarded with 1 lb. of sugar. So they came and were photographed—it looked extremely well to have so many women seizing this first opportunity of an Italian education for their babies. Some one at Rieka most unfortunately had forgotten to consign the sugar. The Italian officer who was appointed to discharge the functions of podestà, that is, mayor, of Abbazia was a certain Lieut.-Colonel Stadler. He sent to Rome and Paris various telegrams as to the people's ardent hope of being joined to Italy. The people's own telegrams to Paris went by a more circuitous route. But Stadler did not seem to care much for the French, nor yet for the English. About a dozen of the educated people, thinking that the French might also come to Abbazia and wishing to be able to converse with them, took lessons in that language; another dozen, with a similar motive, had a Mr. Pošcić, a naturalized American subject, to give them English lessons. Away with these baubles, cried Stadler; on January 10 he stopped the lessons.
ITALY IS LED ASTRAY BY SONNINO