As soon as the War was over, Italy disembarked on the islands which she had obtained by the Treaty of London. Something has been said on previous pages of the way in which she introduced herself and made herself at home. As we were sailing towards the pretty town of Jelša (Gelsa) on the island of Hvar, we left Vrboška on our right. The Bishop of Split had told me of a grievance which the Italian troops at that place had lodged with his brother, the mayor. Some of them had visited, for the fêtes of carnival, both the Yugoslav Club, where they found many persons who could speak Italian, and the Italian Club, where they were annoyed to find that it was spoken by very few. As we came into the little port of Jelša, with the green shutters of its white houses harmonizing with the foliage of the cypresses and oleanders, we could see a crowd of people running round—and carabinieri running with them—to that part of the harbour where we were unexpectedly going to stop. There was some confusion, the carabinieri pushing the people back, evidently to prevent them shaking hands with us; and one small boy who did not hear or did not understand what they were shouting received a terrific blow in the back from the fist of a furious Italian. Some cries were raised in honour of Yugoslavia, Wilson, France and England, which may have been imprudent; but when a place in which there is not one single Italian has been held down for months, has been forbidden to show the slightest joy on account of the birth of Yugoslavia, has been savagely punished for having a copy of a Yugoslav newspaper, has repeatedly been cursed and cuffed and ordered, at the bayonet's point, to execute some wish of the carabinieri—one cannot be astonished if in the presence of some non-Italian foreigners they could no longer repress their feelings. Some of the people had brought flowers with them, and as Pommerol and I plunged into the whirlpool and made our way towards the Italian commander's office, we had many flowers either thrust into our hands while the carabinieri were looking the other way or else we had them thrown at us, in which case some of them would usually descend upon the shoulders or the three-cornered hats of the carabinieri. Whenever anybody uttered one of the forbidden exclamations one or more of the carabinieri would fling themselves into the crowd and attempt, with the help of vigorous kicking, to reach the culprit. Thus, in the midst of a series of scrimmages, we got to the captain's quarters. We found him a very pleasant young man, keenly conscious of the difficulties of his position; as we afterwards heard, he was such an improvement on his predecessor that the carabinieri were convinced he was a Yugoslav and had been heard to mutter threats against his life. He had apologized to the inhabitants, and had dismissed one of his men who had hauled down a Yugoslav flag and blown his nose on it. For these men an extenuating circumstance was that they had been very drunk on the night before our arrival, as they had heard—it was in the first half of June 1919—that the islands had been definitely given to Italy, and this they had been celebrating. We knew that after an American and an Englishman had visited Jelša, in the time of the other commandant, some of the people were interned; the young captain assured us that he would do no such thing. And one could see that he would never imitate the brutality of his predecessor, who had caused a frail old man of sixty-six, Professor Zarić, to be pulled out of his bed in the middle of a winter's night and taken across the hills on a donkey to Starigrad, afterwards on a destroyer to Split, from where—but for the intervention of the American Admiral—he would have been deported to Italy; and all on account of his having written, in English and French, a scientific ethnographical treatise on the islands.
PROCEEDINGS AT STARIGRAD
At Starigrad on our arrival the harbour and its precincts looked like the scene of an opera, with an opening chorus of carabinieri. They were posted at various tactical points and no one else was visible. One of them advanced, however, and conducted us at our request to the office of the Commandant, a major who must have played a very modest part in the War, as I believe he only had three rows of ribbons.[39] He gave us some vermouth and informed us that the population was very quiet, very happy. When I said that I would like to see the mayor he sent an orderly, and in less than one minute his worship stood before us. He immediately confirmed what the major had said with regard to the population. In fact the picture which he drew brought back to memory the comment of the Queen of Roumania who, when an American lady at a reception in Belgrade told her that she lived at a place called Knoxville or Coxville in the States, replied "How nice!" The good Italians, quoth the mayor, were distributing supplies among the natives, and with the exception of the Croat intelligentsia they all wished for union with Italy. I asked him if he did not think that, looking at it from the economic point of view, there would be some difficulties when the island's exports—wine and oil and fish—would have to compete with the products of Italy. But he said that one must think of the other benefits—no longer would the island have to bear the hated Austrian. It was all the fault of Austria, he continued, that after 1885 the Starigrad municipality had been Croat; since then the Italians had lost their school and their orchestra. But now it would all be changed. He was clearly a product of the new dispensation; and he told me that as the ex-mayor was an Austrian of course he had to be discharged. Nothing else did this gentleman tell me, which was a pity, as in a message, presumably sent by him, to an Italian newspaper, La Dalmazia,[40] of Zadar, it was stated that in this conversation I had displayed a supreme ignorance of local questions.... Then we all stood up and the major said that he would accompany us down to the boat. I told him that I would join him there after I had seen some Yugoslavs, and Pommerol was good enough to walk away with him while I went round the ancient little town—it even has some Cyclopæan walls—with certain Yugoslavs, two lawyers and a doctor. One of the lawyers turned out to be the ex-mayor, whose Austrianism had apparently taken a less active form than that of his successor, for he had only been an Austrian subject, while the actual mayor—Dr. Tamašković—had served, until the end of the War, in the 22nd Austrian Regiment. With regard to the events of 1885, they told me that this was the time when the Croatian national consciousness awoke, so that an insufficient number of people had remained either to support an Italian school or yet an orchestra. And now the number of Italian adherents was about 200 (out of 3600), and might increase if ice-creams were handed round in all the schools. One of my companions happened to live in the house of Hektorović, the sixteenth-century poet, and we spent a few minutes in the perfectly delightful garden with its palms and shady paths and bathing tank, like that one in the Alcazar at Seville. Then we went on to the harbour where a number of the people were collected. Pommerol was in the middle of a group of military and naval officers and civilians, these latter being partly visitors from Istria and Zadar. Suddenly a woman, standing near me, threw her head back and cried: "Viva Italia!" when other people joined her she redoubled her efforts. I should say that about thirty people were gathered round the major, shouting for Italy, and he was obviously gratified. But then a much larger number of persons who had different sentiments began to shout for Wilson, Yugoslavia and so forth. The carabinieri rushed among them, howling vengeance. A Mrs. Politeo, who was holding a bouquet, was flung down by them and trampled on. The lawyers and the doctor with whom I had been walking were all three struck over the head or on the shoulders with the butt end of muskets. (La Dalmazia wrote that I had been filling their heads with idle tales.) Children were screaming. I saw another woman, hatless, being dragged off by a couple of carabinieri—and a naval officer, who was disgusted, sternly ordered them to let her go—and they obeyed reluctantly. Four Dominican monks were next attacked—they had not taken part in the demonstration; it was enough for the carabinieri that they belonged to the Yugoslav party. One of them, Father Rabadan—an elderly gentleman with gold spectacles—was thrown down, struck until his face was covered with blood, and then dragged off to prison. The carabinieri were being helped by soldiers—one of these I saw in the act of loading his rifle—and the noise was tremendous. Here one would see a Yugoslav trying to tell one of the warriors that he had done nothing; then another ardito would go swooping on to his prey: one or two of the officers looked awkward—one or two actually looked exultant. As we steamed out of the harbour four or five carabinieri and arditi were running along the road parallel with us, others were climbing over the stone walls—apparently it was a man-hunt. "There are places in Dalmatia," Signor Luzzatti, an Italian ex-Premier, had been saying in the Temps,[41] "where Yugoslavs and Italians are mingled; but it is clear that in those circumstances the oldest and serenest civilization should prevail. Italy in her relations with other races has continued the traditions of ancient Rome.... It is their palpitating desire [i.e. that of Fiume, Sebenico, Zara, Traù, Spalato, etc.] to live under the direct protection of Italy." And on the next day a telegram was sent to Split from the unoccupied island of Brać, giving the names of twenty-one persons who were arrested, and the name [Semeri] of an officer who had helped to beat Father Rabadan and continued: "The carabinieri are still looking for Yugoslavs. On the occasion of the arrestment of the clerk Nikola Pavičić, the musket of an ardito went off and an eye was blown out to Mr. Pavičić. Great terror prevails among the Yugoslav population." A later message, to the newspaper Jadran at Split, said that twenty-eight persons had been arrested and imprisoned in two narrow cells, which were overlooked from the neighbouring houses. There they were being maltreated, and for the first day being given nothing to eat. Everyone felt surprise that among the arrested was a certain Mr. Vladimir Vranković, as he was one of those who had betrayed their nationality. But after ten minutes this clumsiness on the part of a carabiniere was rectified and, by command of Major Penatta, he was released. All those who could get away from Starigrad were taking refuge in the villages. The message ended by asking for the intervention of the Entente, as the people's life was being made intolerable, and for the reason that they would not trample under foot everything which they regard as holy. But, according to La Dalmazia, the indignant Italian population sent to the Paris Conference a vibrating telegram, which begged for immediate annexation to Italy, and protested against those who in an unworthy and ugly manner had disturbed the place's beautiful tranquillity.... The prisoners were court-martialled at Zadar and condemned to terms that varied from four to eight months—seven of the accused, including Father Rabadan and two other Dominicans, receiving the severest sentence.... I hope the indignant Italian population dispatched, later on, a telegram of thanks to the Paris Conference for having ordered Yugoslavia to guarantee the position of the handful of Italians to be left in Yugoslav territory, and even their special commercial interests in Dalmatia; while the half million Slovenes and Croats whom Italy proposed to annex were not to be protected by an equivalent guarantee. It would be ridiculous to bind with such conditions a Great, Liberal Power.
After this it was no great surprise to hear, on reaching Hvar, the capital of the island, that our further progress was impeded. The pale Commandant of sinister aspect, this time a naval officer, Lieut. Vincenzo Villa, showed us a telegram from the Vice-Admiral at Korčula, which said that we were not to be allowed to speak to any of the inhabitants. "To explore the islands there is some little difficulty," said Burton in a lecture on the ruined cities, which he visited when he was Consul at Triest. Early in the morning our cook, who went ashore to see what he could buy, was immediately arrested by the carabinieri, who were keeping order very much like those "bravissimi citadini" who in the autumn of 1870, when many of the citizens of Rome were at loggerheads with the Vatican, arrested and disarmed all those adherents of the Papacy who showed their noses outside the Vatican's portals. Our cook was afterwards released by the Commandant, who allowed him to visit the market, escorted by carabinieri. After that we returned to Split, and from there to Zadar, in order to see Admiral Millo.
One would like to know what the Admiral would have said if this interview had taken place a few months later when, in alliance with Gabriele d'Annunzio, he was in open, armed revolt against the Government of Italy. The dark-bearded, stately Admiral, Senator of the Kingdom, had not begun as yet to make that series of buccaneering speeches, and he courteously told us, more than once, that he could permit of nothing which would outrage public order. He was much afraid that if we went back to the islands we would be the cause of lamentable scenes; in fact he could not let us go without an order from his Government. "These islands," he said, "are not yet ours; we are occupying them, as you know, in the name of the Entente and the United States. You have the right," he said, "to go there; but, unfortunately, if you do, the population will give way, as they have done already, to excesses." Since the last thing that we wished was for the islanders to bring us flowers and cheer the name of Wilson—in view of what these crimes entailed—we suggested that a small number, four or five of each party—those who desired to be with Yugoslavia and those who preferred Italy—should in succession come to us on board. Naturally we should be unable to do so if we had to visit any inland place; and after a prolonged argument the Admiral agreed to this plan. We returned to Hvar.
THE AFFAIRS OF HVAR
The subordinate Admiral, from Korčula, had come across on a destroyer and was kind enough to tell us at considerable length what were his views on local and international affairs. He frankly appealed to us—and his humorous blue eyes were radiating frankness—to survey the whole matter in a broad, statesmanlike fashion. But we were less ambitious; we desired merely to be the mouthpiece of both parties. Those who first came on board were the Italianists, and I hope I shall not be considered unfair if I employ this word rather than "Italians" for a body of men, most of whom are admittedly devoid of any Italian blood and whose Italian sympathies are of very recent growth. This class numbers 9 per cent. of the population of the town. Their chief point seemed to be that the Church was opposed to them, because there was no room for clericalism in Italy (!); and the only other point worth mentioning was that Austria was to blame for the phylloxera which had played havoc with their vines. Among the Yugoslavs who succeeded these gentlemen there was an elderly priest, a canon, who related that some carabinieri—no doubt in order to display to all men that Italy had shaken herself free from clerical obscurantism—entered the church while the bishop was officiating, and hoisted on the roof an Italian flag. This canon, Dom Ivo Bojanić, could scarcely be blamed if the Italian innovations did not appeal to him. He chanced to be looking out of his window on a moonlit night and noticed that an agile policeman was climbing up to his balcony for the purpose of decorating it with an Italian flag. The old gentleman protested, and was thereupon taken to the barracks, where he remained for one day. The Yugoslavs told us that the state of things was worse than in Africa—but that was a figure of speech; the facts were that the different societies and clubs had been closed, that all persons going down to the harbour had been forbidden to speak their own language to their friends on board ship, that three Croat teachers had fled to escape being interned, while an Italian soldier who did not know a word of Croatian had been appointed in their place.
FOUR MEN OF KOMIŽA
When we departed from Hvar the Admiral sent his destroyer to accompany us on our tour. She had on board a Roman journalist, Signor Roberto Buonfiglio, who was travelling in Dalmatia and the islands on behalf of the clerical Corriere d'Italia. The situation at Vis, the historic palm-shaded capital of the island of the same name, has already been described. The Italian Commandant, Sportiello, was a tactful and popular person; moreover the Yugoslavs were on the best of terms with Dr. Doimi, the head of one of the very rare Italian families. At Komiža, the other little town on that island, the relations between Yugoslavs and Italianists were not so cordial. But the deputation which represented the latter party comprised one man whom the Austrians had put in gaol for several years for forgery; a father and son, of whom the one had sold himself for the sake of rice, while the other had also been imprisoned by the Austrians for uttering false documents; the fourth and most innocent member—his name happened to be Innocent Buliani—had nothing to conceal except his fickleness, for in a short period he had called himself an Austrian, a Yugoslav and an Italian. None of these four was a native of the place, whereas the Yugoslavs who came to see us were natives who had risen to be the chief doctor, lawyer, priest and merchant. One of the Italianists, Antonio Spadoni, told us that the people were afraid of expressing their real wishes for union with Italy. This hypothesis might seem to demand some elucidation, but Signor Spadoni insisted on passing on to the "Workers' Society," which the young Commandant had founded for the purpose, according to Spadoni, of helping the people to find work and of looking after their interests. We were subsequently told by the Yugoslavs that the Commandant himself called the members his "Rice Italians," for many of them did not speak the language and did not even sympathize with Italy. But on joining they had committed themselves to something that was printed at the top of the paper, which part had been turned over. It really doesn't sound very worthy of a Great Power. When some of the members, discovering to what they were committed, sent in their resignation, it was refused. At Komiža all the municipal officers had been discharged by the Italians, the reading-rooms and places of amusement had been closed, and the Food Administrator at Split was forbidden to send any food, lest he should interfere with the Italians' object in distributing rice, etc. Once he was permitted to forward some American flour, and the people had to pay forty crowns of duty on each hundredweight.
THE WOMEN OF BIŠEVO