Like the majority of towns on the eastern coast of the Adriatic, the city was built on a small peninsula jutting out to sea. On the landward side the ground rises steeply to a height of about fifteen hundred feet, for there is a ridge of grey granite that follows the coast to the North and to the South.
To the south of Ragusa, the village of Ploce stretches along the coastal road for a mile or so. The North gate leads out to the older village of Pile, which is crossed by the highway to the port of Gruz, the point of departure for all the seafaring traffic.
Gruz has an excellent natural harbour formed by the small peninsula of Lapad which encloses it in a narrow bay from the south. The north shore of the peninsula is also the south bank of the Ombla river, which is a kind of fjord seven miles deep, backed up by high mountains to the north and to the east.
Viewed from the sea or from the mainland, Ragusa, with its solid ring of ramparts, bastions and fortresses, all built of silvery grey ashlar, stands out in clear relief against the blue waters of the Adriatic. About a mile and a half out to sea, the tree-clad Island of Lokrum afford a certain amount of protection to the harbour and to the beaches of Ploce.
Ragusa has only two gates on the landward side, because the ground rises so steeply that all coastal traffic must pass through the town. As there are no roads, there can be no vehicles, and good are transported on pack-mules and donkeys.
The focal point of traffick is outside the North gate in a wide square which is the terminus of the roads to Gruz and Lapad. There is always plenty of movement here because of the arrival and departure of merchants; the porters who carry goods into the town; the shoeblacks and the peasants who gaze wide-eyed at foreigners and other townsfolk.
On one side there is a tree-shaded terrace overlooking the fishing vessels in the port, which is dominated by the ramparts on the rocky heights of the Slav town, and to the north by the Fort of the Lovrejenac perched up on a lofty crag.
The gardens on the rising road to Gruz are full of mulberry groves, palm trees and oleanders. Steep paths mount up the hillside to the heights, passing first of all between little white villas set in terraces, until they reach the belt of orchards and green shrubs above.
On the landward side, Ragusa is protected by two lines of ramparts that are further reinforced in places. It is to these strong defences and to the unity of her citizens as well as to the diplomatic skill of her rulers that Ragusa owed her independence through so many centuries.
To pass from the hubbub of the outer square into the city is almost like passing from one country to another. First the Pile Gate is reached by a balustered bridge that crosses the dry ditch. Over the arch is a figure of Saint Blaise, the patron saint and protector of the city. Then, after plunging through a second massive wall, the interior of the city comes into view.
THe first impression is of the main street, the Placa or Stradone, as it is called locally. It divides the town into two parts and leads to the Rector's Palace, the Customs House, and other buildings that house the government offices of the Republic.
The houses of the main thoroughfare are all of the same height, the low-pitched roofs are pierced at even intervals by dormer windows and covered with red tiles. The arches on the ground floor are often used as open stalls.
Ornate iron lamp posts run down the centre of the Placa, lighting the way all the way to the center of the city.
The Franciscan Monastery, next to the votive Chapel of our Saviour, contains one of the first pharmacies in Europe. The dispensary was founded in 1317. On its shelves repose coloured china jars and bottles for the different drugs, alongsides measures, crucibles, and other apparatus. Adjoining it is a library of pharmaceutical texts. The cloisters below, with their narrow round arches resting on very slender pillars, surround a small garden, in the centre of which stands the figure of Saint Francis perched on the top of a stone birdbath.
To stroll down the Placa is always a pleasing experience. Since there is no wheeled traffic, it serves as a Corso where the population parades up and down in the late afternoon. The inhabitants have the great gift of knowing how to wear what they have, and they move gracefully and with dignity. Here there is little of the ogling and wooing of Latin countries; the young men and girls talk and laugh together with unaffected ease, and the stranger is greeted with great friendliness.
On either side of the street there are cafes and taverns where one can soon join a group of locals who are only too willing to enter into a conversation. At night, restaurants serve dinner on vine-trellised terraces which are both cool and agreeable.
Although the architecture of the houses in Ragusa is simple and rather austere, there are many pleasant structural details to be observed, especially in the side streets. As in most towns along this coast, stone jambs often project on either side of windows. On these are hung skeins of wool to dry, for weaving is one of the staple industries of Ragusa and of Dalmatia.
The town is small, not more than twelve to thirteen hundred yards in diameter; the whole city within the confines of the ramparts is solidly paved with ashlar. Ragusa is shaped like a saucer with part of the lip flattened out near the southern extremity; the majority of the streets leading up to the heights on either side of the Placa are formed of steep stone stairways.
Strangely enough, a number of small gardens still remain close to the town wall, little patches of green where flowerbeds are carefully tended, and where lilac blooms in the spring. Vine-trellised terraces overlook the tiled roofs and belfries below. It is agreeable to rent a room in one of these dwellings, and in fact quite possible, for many families are prepared to take in paying guests on very reasonable terms. The local people are usually very welcoming to foreigners and their houses are, as a rule, scrupulously clean. Indeed, Ragusa is a well-kept town with none of the smells and piles of garbage that make so many places in the Mediterranean completely untenable in hot weather.
The centre of Ragusa is in a curious way reminiscent of the Piazza San Marco or the City Square at Ravenna, and yet is has no real physical resemblance to either of these places, and as the Venetians never occupied Ragusa they cannot claim to have exercised any influence on its planning. Perhaps the similarity is due to the fact that here too, condensed in a small space, is the administration of a city state.
FIrst of all there is the lovely belfry of the city, visible from the far end of the Placa. To the left of this tower is the Sponza, the mint and customs house of the Republic. In a trading community, it is of vast importance, for the greater part of the revenue of the State is derived from dues levied on goods entering the port, and the local currency, widely circulated throughout the Mediterranean, is acknowledged to be pure and never debased.
In the square opposite is the Pillar of Orlando with a statue of this Paladin and a flagstaff on which the flag of the Republic is flown on ceremonial occasions. It is here that the decrees and official pronouncements of the Senate are proclaimed and that criminals are executed in the presence of the assembled populace.
The Palace of the Great Council, five stories tall and with seating for six hundred, sits atop a graceful terrace overlooking the Bay of Ploce with its green slopes and white villas.
The adjoining Dvor, or Rector's Palace, the seat of the government of the Republic, is one of the chief glories of Ragusa. The lofty loggia on the ground floor is formed of six arches decorated with festoons of leaves that are twined together. Of the seven supporting pillars, one on the extreme left with carves of Aesculapius at his work of healing is supposed to have been brought from the Greek ruins of Epidaurum. The windows on the first floor are Gothic, divided by a narrow band of stone and surmounted by three trefoils. The doorway into the courtyard is of great splendour and ornamented with a riot of all kinds of movement and joy; winged cherubs blowing trumpets, naked men with javelins and shields, and figures of all kinds dancing vigorously.
The inner quadrangle has two tiers of round arched and vaulted galleries, of which the lower one is supported on single round pillars, and the upper on slender double columns.
On the first floor are the Halls of the Great and of the Minor Councils. Here also are kept the voluminous remaining archives of the Republic: the documents, charts, and treaties defining the State of Ragusa.
Travellers who come to Ragusa have described the splendour and decorum of the scene. Senators in their scarlet robes, officials in blue satin in evidence going about their business, and the nobility in the flowered silks of western Europe, their servants clad in their brilliant costume of a semi-Eastern pattern.
On the walls are portraits of bygone senators and rectors in full apparel, and if these paintings are not always of a very high standard, they give us, at any rate, a glimpse of Ragusa's glorious past that has vanished forever.