Wanderings through unknown Austria

by Randolph Llewellyn Hodgson

We went on to Capodistria by steamer. There was a very motley crowd of passengers on board—peasants returning from market, business people bound for an afternoon's pleasure-seeking, persons of all sorts and conditions. The "Photographic Lady" was delighted that, in one particular at least, her researches with regard to our arrangements were correct—namely, that the steamer had left Trieste at one o'clock. To prove her accuracy, she asked the "G. L." soon after starting to tell her the time. But his answer was somewhat vague, and his method of ascertaining the time appeared to us peculiar. He took out his watch, looked at it for a long time, gazed fixedly at the sun, shut his eyes, seemed by the contortion of his features to be going through some abstruse calculation, and then said it was between one and two o'clock. This nettled the lady, and she replied rather warmly that she wanted to know the exact time. With a mournful smile he took out his watch again, went through the previous programme, and gave the same answer. At this we all insisted on seeing his watch for ourselves, and then the mystery was explained. It had no glass! it had no hands! We suggested that such a watch must be rather inconvenient, but he assured us it was the best watch he had ever had in his life; for more than ten years it had been in this state, during which time it had gone absolutely perfectly, and had never needed the slightest attention beyond winding up.

It took us three-quarters of an hour to reach Capodistria. It looks very quaint and old-fashioned this little out-of-the-way town, with its red-roofed houses, blue sky above, and blue sea all around, and the great gaunt prison lighted up by the golden rays of the sun, and forming a bright patch of yellow in the landscape. My collaborator says the prison spoils the appearance of the town, but I maintain that it forms a pleasing contrast to the old gray walls of the houses.

Capodistria was formerly Byzantine, but in 1278 it became Venetian. Under the Republic of Venice it was a very flourishing place, and is said to have been the richest town in Istria. There were many wealthy patrician families, renowned for their luxurious living, inhabiting it. With the fall of the Venetian Republic, Capodistria declined, and it is now a small unimportant town. It was formerly known by the name of "the Gentlewoman of Istria."

On arriving, we found that we had made a mistake of two hours in the time of the return steamer, a discovery that threw all our plans out of gear, but we comforted ourselves with the reflection that it gave us more time to see the place. We engaged a chariot and drove off to inspect the town. It was a remarkable conveyance. The "G. L." selected it, and it appeared as if he had chosen the dirtiest he could find. It was small too. We could only just squeeze in, and were very much cramped for room; but any trifling defects in the carriage were amply made up for by the horse. This was indeed a noble animal, and high spirited in the extreme; the driver too was perfectly reckless, so we dashed off at the rate of some sixty miles an hour, the chariot pitching and tossing like a small boat in an angry sea.

The "piazza" is quite the sight of Capodistria, and is very picturesque. A church stands on one side of it, and before one is an old Town Hall, turreted on both sides, with graceful Venetian windows, innumerable inscriptions, coats-of-arms, and other carvings, and the whole crowned by the Venetian lion. A pretty outer staircase with little marble columns runs along part of the front of the building, and under it there is a deep and sombre archway, through which one sees a narrow street, with great, high, irregularly built houses almost meeting above it.

THE TOWN HALL

I believe we went to see three churches in this little town, but I have seen such a superabundance of churches lately, that I cannot remember the characteristic features of any of the three. I know that in one there was a quantity of fine old silver, and that we were shown round another by a most obsequious monk, clad in russet brown, who explained its beauties to us in a confidential manner. I remember, too, that we saw some pictures. In one church (the "G. L." says it was in the big one on the piazza) there was a very fine one of Benedetto Carpaccio—the Madonna in the company of some saints, and with two little angels playing the banjo (it may be a guitar) at her feet. In the church where we interviewed the monk there was a big altar-piece of Cima da Conegliano, very much spoilt by having been restored, and a most curious picture of Vittore Carpaccio, with a garland of angels' heads (hundreds of them), some painted in natural colours and some bright red. (Red-headed angels—this is art!)

By the way, I was told that in Venice there is a very old picture attributed to the same Carpaccio, and said to represent the Lords of Duino taking tribute from the town of Zara; the Lords of Duino, in quaint armour, with their ladies and soldiers, on the one side of the picture; on the other, the representatives of the vanquished town bringing gold, etc., and in the background a turreted castle—Duino, and a town near it—Trieste. As Carpaccio was a native of Capodistria, it is very probable that he painted this triumph of some of the most powerful barons of his country.

After this came more sight-seeing. We visited a funny old drinking-fountain known as the "Bridge" (why, I know not), and watched the women drawing water.