lines of Dalmatia and Herzegovina. Three modes
of performing the journey were reported practicable,—viz.
on horseback, by water, or by carriage. The first
of these I at once discarded, as both slow and tedious;
the choice consequently lay between the remaining
two methods: with regard to economy of time I
decided upon the latter. But here a difficulty
arose. The man who possessed a monopoly of carriages,
for some reason best known to himself, demurred at
my proceeding, declaring the road to be impassable.
He farther brought a Turkish courier to back his statement,
who at any rate deserved credit, on the tell-a-good-one-and-stick-to-it
principle, for his hard swearing. I subsequently
ascertained that it was untrue; and had I known a little
more of the country, I should not have been so easily
deterred, seeing that the road in question is by far
the best which exists in that part of Europe.
It was constructed by the French during their occupation
of Dalmatia in the time of Napoleon, and has been
since kept in good order by the Austrian government.
Being thus thwarted in my plans, I made a virtue of
necessity, engaged a country boat, and got under weigh
on the evening of the day on which I had landed at
Gravosa. The night was clear and starry; and
as my boat glided along before a light breeze under
the romantic cliffs of the Dalmatian coast, I ceased
to regret the jolting which I should have experienced
had I carried out my first intention. Running
along the shore for some ten hours in a north-westerly
direction, we reached Stagno, a town of small importance,
situated at the neck of a tongue of land in the district
of Slano, and which connects the promontory of Sabioncello
with the mainland; ten minutes’ walk across
the isthmus brought us again to the sea. The
luggage deposited in a boat of somewhat smaller dimensions,
and better adapted for river navigation, we once more
proceeded on our journey.
A little to the north of Stagno is the entrance to the port of Klek, a striking instance of right constituted by might. The port, which, from its entrance, belongs indisputably to Turkey, together with the land on the southern side, is closed by Austria, in violation of every principle of national law and justice.
Previous to 1852, many small vessels used to enter it for trading purposes, and it was not until Omer Pacha in that year attempted to establish it as an open port that Austria interfered, and stationed a war-steamer at its mouth.
In 1860 the restriction was so far removed that Turkish vessels have since been allowed to enter with provisions for the troops.