This immense palace, which covered very nearly nine English acres of ground, was almost a perfect square terminating at the four corners by a quadrangular tower. Its faces were directed as nearly as possible to the four cardinal points—the southern side being pointed to the shore and facing the sea. It still exists in good preservation and forms a grand object of attraction to the visitor entering the harbour. Two streets intersected each other at right angles nearly in the centre of it, which has lately been completely excavated and is now fully exposed to view.
The following description by the late Mr. Paton (author of "Highlands and Islands of the Adriatic," one of the most charming books ever printed) will convey to the reader a far clearer impression than anything I could pen; I therefore make no apology for inserting it here, and whoever should wish to go still deeper into the matter and learn all that is to be learned concerning this palace, I refer him to Mr. Adams' book "Spalato Restored," which is a perfectly exhaustive treatise on the subject.
"At the outset we are struck with the enormous extent of the palace, which is not less than nine acres and a half; so that even Constantine Porphyrogenitus speaks of it with admiration, as one of the greatest edifices then extant. In the time of Diocletian, his great retinue and a pretorian cohort could be lodged with convenience in it. Sixteen towers gave strength and elegance to the edifice, of which the largest were those at the four corners. The back of the edifice looked to the north-east on the land-side, and there was the principal entrance, the Porta Aurea, or golden gate, which led to the Peristylium, a great court of granite columns; and the cross street which intersected the principal passage at right angles was terminated at each end by gates, the one the Porta Ferrea, or iron gate, the other the Porta Ænea, or gate of brass, which are so called to this day.
"This peristylium, or court of granite columns, was flanked by two temples; the greater of Jupiter, and the smaller of Esculapius; the former, a lofty octagon, was ascended by a stair of fifteen steps; an uneven number being generally found in the temples of the ancients, that, beginning to move with the right foot, they might, of course, place it first upon the uppermost step in order to enter the temple—a form which was accounted respectful in approaching the Deity. From the peristylium, or court of granite columns, the Roman entered the principal inhabited part of the palace; first was the porticus of Corinthian order, then the circular dome-covered vestibulum, with the Lares and Penates; then the atrium, or quadrangular hall, ninety-eight by forty-five with its arms and trophies dedicated to ancestry; and last of all the crypto-porticus, or grand gallery, looking to the south-west, thus facing the sea, and forming a noble promenade of five hundred and fifteen feet in length, in which, during the heat of Summer or inclemency of Winter, the Emperor could take exercise. This crypto-porticus was the principal feature of the palace, and the well-known taste of Diocletian leads us to suppose that the choicest statuary and paintings of the Old World must have adorned its walls. The relics of Pompeii give some idea of the classic fancy in ornament, the harmonizing contrasts in colour, and the consummate skill in tessellation employed in the domestic architecture of the ancients; and if we relieve these splendours with the latest fascination in the unpretending forms of Greek statuary, how puny is the utmost magnificence of Versailles compared with the dwelling of the retired Roman!
"Such was the Palace of Diocletian; what now remains of the edifice? The shell or outer wall, of which the best preserved part is the grand gallery facing the sea; for Spalato like its contemporary Baalbec being used as a fortification, the rough stone and mortar of the middle-age battlements surmount in many places the massive normal masonry of the Roman Empire.... Within the town, fragments of Roman architecture are scattered thickly enough, but so obscured and mingled with modern houses as to present a mass of confusion."
Did we stop short here, the reader might well imagine that beyond the shell, the walls which surrounded the palace, nothing has been preserved; such however is not the case, and I shall now endeavour to describe what I saw in Spalato the morning that I steamed into its harbour, when from the deck of my vessel I gazed on that sea studded all over with numberless boats spreading the most fantastic sails to the gentlest of breezes!
The prevailing form, if not the only one, was the lateen in all its varieties, most of the boats carrying but one. But such colours and such devices painted on them! things that would look simply outrageous at Cowes or Ryde, how lovely they seemed there! Some were striped from above downwards with every colour of the rainbow, but only two colours to each sail and these always harmoniously contrasted; others of one uniform colour, with some fantastic ornament in sharp contrast in the middle; while some, all of one colour had at the topmost angle of the lateen a representation of the sun generally in burnished gold with its rays coming down a long way over the sail. The glittering golden sea, those fairy-looking boats gliding over it, the picturesque costumes of the sailors, the whole scene bathed in that golden light was a fit preparation for my introduction to the rare beauties of Spalato itself.
As we slowly approached the quay, there was ample time to admire the long façade of Diocletian's Palace, with the tall and elegant campanile which rises inside it on the right, and the strong hexagonal machicolated tower on the left. The lofty steeple on the right, a very Giralda of elegance and airiness—the dungeon on the left a sturdy emblem of the iron-fisted middle ages.
After some customary formalities, during which I feasted my eyes on the picturesque groups that crowded on the quay, permission was finally given to go ashore; when crossing as quickly as could be the narrow intervening space, I plunged through the Porta Ferrea into the vaulted passage which on this side gives entrance to the city of Spalato; and now commence the real difficulties of description, but having undertaken it I must only try, trusting to the kind forbearance of my readers.
This vaulted entrance is narrow, perhaps not twelve feet wide, but very lofty and formed of immense blocks of stone put together with wonderful accuracy. After following it a little way, it opens out into a spacious round hall rising up to a considerable height, this portion being unroofed; from it open out several streets, all running about here and there, crossing and recrossing each other as if in search of light and air. The dwellings in these streets are full of quaint artistic beauty; at one point one meets a massive wall of square-cut blocks dating from the days of Diocletian, against which, perhaps, is built up a modern house with wrought-iron balconies of the most delicate workmanship; further on, an outside staircase of rude stone steps, partly covered with a roof of russet tiles, leads to a door some thirty feet above our heads, from which a flying buttress crosses over to an opening in an ancient wall beyond, where a modern habitation has been constructed in some mediæval donjon.