The man to the right, in a red turban and a dark indigo jacket, is a fair example of the Bosniac rayah of these parts, and indeed his dress is much the same throughout the country. He wears a loose white linen tunic and trowsers, which latter are confined about the calf in this instance, though they are often loose and flowing, as among the Croats. His feet are sandalled in the never-failing Opankas, which seem common to all the southern Sclaves, and may not improbably be the same foot-covering as that mentioned by Constantine Porphyrogenitus. The Byzantine Emperor says that the Romans called the boots of the Serbli (or Serbs) Serbula, and Serbulianos all those who were poorly booted; and indeed, if these are the sandals alluded to, it must be confessed that the Byzantine contempt for them as boots was merited, for experience has taught me that the straps easily break, and that the soles are worn through in no time.
Types at the Fair.
The woman seated on the middle of the trunk is representative of the ordinary Latin peasants hereabouts, the red border of her jacket being probably an ensign of her Catholicism as near Dervent. The rest of the jacket is black, contrasting with the clean white tunic below; but the general effect would be funereal were it not for her apron, which is of as divers colours as Joseph’s coat, and displays those diamond patterns so much affected by the peasants near Belgrade. The twin brooches on her belt may remind the antiquary of those worn by our Anglo-Saxon great-grandmothers, or of such as are exhumed from old Serbian graves, and the silver work of her ear-rings is doubtless an inheritance from Byzantium.
The standing figure to her left belongs to a very curious type both of feature and costume. This was the first occasion on which we came upon a dress the affinities of which were other than Serbian or Croatian. The multitude of decoration is overpowering. She is studded with Turkish coins as with a cuirass of scale armour, her arms loaded with bracelets, and her fingers with rings; ornamental patterns are crowded over her jacket and apron,—a gorgeous orange being the pervading colour. Her hair was spangled with coins in a way which we afterwards saw repeated among the unveiled Mahometan women of the Narenta valley. There was a certain heaviness about the dress which contrasted with the lighter costumes around; it belonged to the general class of Bosnian costume extending west and south towards Dalmatia and the Herzegovinian frontier. Its nuances are decidedly Dalmatian. As we crossed the mountains towards Travnik we came upon more specimens of this type; and in the gorges of Troghìr and Mazulia were again struck by the curious stamp of features, which in these mountains seems always to accompany this peculiar attire. The broad face and flat nose suggest quite a different parentage, and I noticed brothers and husbands who showed that the peculiarity was not confined to one sex. I remember one man in particular with nose so curiously flattened that one was almost tempted to believe that his profile had been deformed by a bandage drawn tightly across the face in childhood, after the old Hunnish fashion, and went on to speculate whether some of the followers of Attila, or perchance some of those Tartars who flooded Bosnia in the thirteenth century, might not have been caught in these mountain basins. But this much is certain, that at the present day these gorgeous barbarians speak Bosniac like their neighbours.
To the left of our Hunnish friend sits a woman in the most civilized costume of Christian Bosnia, and which, with peculiarities of its own, is eminently Serbian, of the Danube, and will recall the maiden of Tešanj. Here, however, besides the hair plaited round a tasselled fez, and the scarf crossed X-wise over the bosom, is the expanding skirt and the fur-bordered jacket, such as the ladies of Belgrade delight in wearing.
Some of the girls have decked their hair with zinnias and even sunflowers. The quantity of false coral and bead necklaces worn is overpowering, as is the endless variety of modes in which the white and red kerchiefs that drape the heads are set. Sometimes it was arranged not unlike the coiffure of the last queen of Bosnia, as she appears on her monumental slab. Sometimes, as has been already noticed, it threatened to conceal the face entirely, and some of these half Mahometans were to be seen with the ‘bags’ reaching to their ankles, à la belle Turque. One girl was arrayed as a bride—in lily white, except the flowers in her hair, which just peeped forth from beneath a kerchief-veil, woven of the lightest texture of the country, and falling airily about her person, fringed with simple lace.
But another maiden demands my presence, and I am called away to sketch, at her own request, a Bosnian belle, coiffed in the brightest of rosy kerchiefs, enveloped in a jacket with the most gorgeous golden border, and cinctured with a sash of orange and purple. Whether the attitude in which she sat for her portrait was the most elegant she could have chosen, and whether her boots, in which I fancy she took a peculiar pride, were of that form most adapted for displaying maidenly gracility of ankle, may be left for a forbearing public to decide.
Bosnian Belle.