Friday, October 20, 2023

Early Retirement


Sometime around the end of the second century C.E., the Roman emperor Diocletian made a decision: he wanted to quit. He decided he was done with being in charge of the Roman empire and instead of seeing his emperorship last until the time of his death, he just wanted to retire. So, to that end, he had a fortress that could be well-stocked with soldiers from the Roman army custom-built for him on the Dalmatian coast and on May 1, 305 he left Rome and sailed off into the sunset. 

Metaphorically speaking, of course. Dalmatia is east of Italy so if he did actually sail, he couldn't really sail into the sunset and get to Dalmatia.

Now, I didn't know this was a thing. I guess I assumed when you became emperor of Rome that you were in that gig until the end of your life. Apparently not, although admittedly there were not many who filed their retirement papers early and spent their later years doing something less stressful than running the empire. Diocletian was the first and there were not many after him that did the same thing.

Reading the list of how Roman emperors met their ends, by the way, it seems to me that Diocletian made a smart move. Lots of murders and suicides with some torturing by the Praetorian Guard, a few blindings / exiles and at least one rumored death by being forced to swallow molten gold. Not all as glamorous as it sounds, this ruling Rome stuff. And that molten gold thing...ugh! Can't imagine. Why do we do this stuff to each other?

The northern or Golden Gate of Split being "guarded" by some "Roman soldiers".

When he decided to hang up his sandals, Diocletian was around 40 years or age or maybe a little older and he lived out his life in his custom-built Palace to the age of about 68. It seems to me that a 68-year lifespan wasn't bad for a time when I am sure the average person's time on this planet was way, way shorter. And 68 is approximate but close enough, right? We don't really know when Diocletian was born because birth records back then were not that precisely recorded.

Now, before you go off and think that Diocletian seemed to be set from birth for a long life of luxury because he was born to royalty, think again. He wasn't. He was born in Dalmatia to an otherwise ordinary family (it seems his father may have been some sort of civil servant) and joined the Roman military early in life. I guess he was successful at leading men in battle and killing opponents on the battlefield because he eventually rose to the position of leader of the cavalry force that directly served the emperor Carus in the year 282. 

When Carus died in battle against the Persians, rule of the empire was split between his two sons, Carinus and Numerian. Numerian died (read: likely assassinated) during the army's withdrawal from Persia and the troops declared Diocletian emperor right there on the spot, an honor which Diocletian accepted. A few years later, after armed conflict between forces loyal to Carinus and Diocletian, Carinus' men turned on Carinus and finished him off too. By the end of 285, Diocletian was in charge of Rome. The whole empire, not just the city.

The interior of the Cathedral of St. Dominus, Split.

By most accounts, Diocletian was a fairly effective emperor. He largely brought peace to all of the areas of the empire by making sure its enemies negotiated peace treaties after being soundly defeated by Rome's forces. He also brought order and structure to the administrative aspects of running the empire and levied higher taxes to raise money for the continued success of the empire and whatever it needed money to get accomplished.

He ruled as an autocrat but also delegated effectively to allow others who reported to him to rule parts and pieces of the far-flung empire. He built the military in a way that perpetuated future success and all of those things set the empire itself up for continued prosperity for the next couple of centuries.

If there was a knock on Diocletian's initiatives or action plans while he was in charge, it was his failure despite his best efforts to get that pesky new religion called Christianity eliminated from Roman-held territory. I say "despite his best efforts" because Diocletian was the last Roman emperor who focused significant effort on persecution of Christians. It's odd to think today of Christians as being persecuted but back in the third century, there was a lot of that going on. I also mention it because there is for sure some irony coming later in this post.

And I'm being sarcastic about Diocletian's "failure" to wipe out Christianity. I'm all for freedom of religion as long as it's not hurting anyone else.

What's left standing today of Diocletian's Palace's east or Silver Gate.

So why is all this stuff about Diocletian important enough for me to write paragraph after paragraph in this blog of mine? Well, quite simply, Diocletian's Palace eventually formed the nucleus of the center of the city of Split, Croatia, which was the first stop for us on our recent trip down the Dalmatian coast before hopping on a plane in Dubrovnik and heading to Athens, Greece for a few days. Diocletian's Palace is a core reason why we ended up in Split. It's pretty much what we went to see. And I know I've mentioned Dalmatia a few times here but Dalmatia is in Croatia. And yes, that's where the dogs come from.

The city of Split today pretty much fills the peninsula upon which Diocletian's Palace was built. As the population has grown, the town expanded way beyond the original perimeter walls of the Palace and filled the entire piece of land around the old Palace. It's a real city that has grown organically over the centuries. But it's not like Diocletian's Palace isn't still there because it is. Not the whole thing intact as a museum piece, but you don't have to go hunting for bits and pieces of it here and there like we had to do years ago while searching for the tiny bits of the old Roman wall in Barcelona. You look at Split and you see what Diocletian had built. You walk through the city center and the main public spaces are the main spaces of that palace. There's no question that its presence is clearly visible.

Rendering of what the original Diocletian's Palace probably looked like.

The Palace of Diocletian measures about 225 meters by 175 meters, which results in a rectangle with a ratio of about 5:4. The Palace is tilted maybe 30 degrees or so off of true north-south to match the original coastline of exactly where the Palace was constructed. When Diocletian lived there, the Palace could be entered through a gate in the center of each of the four walls, with the approximate north, east and west gates being entered on land and the south facing directly to the water (today, the area to the south has been filled in, creating a promenade called the Riva which is filled primarily with restaurants). Around the perimeter of the walls of the Palace were a series of towers (presumably for defense). Three of those towers are still in place at three of the four original corners. 

Look at what used to be the Palace today from the north, east or south of the city and you see that Palace. The walls are largely intact and the start and end of each face of the old wall is clearly visible. The east side is more ruined than the north and south but the perimeter wall is defined as clearly as it must have been back when the Palace was first completed. For what it's worth, you'd be able to see the western wall as clearly as the other three if there weren't so much stuff in the way.

You can also experience what it might have been like to enter the Palace. The double walls that created the sallyports at the north and west are still there. You can walk through the original gates in both of those locations. The actual gates themselves are just missing. Not so much at the east side. That gate lost its definition sometime in the centuries after Diocletian moved in. It's a little more, shall we say, not there. If Split were under siege today, the east side of the city would definitely not keep anyone out.

The four gates to the city are named after metals. Going clockwise from north to west, the four gates are the Golden, Silver, Iron and Bronze Gates.


The old south wall of Diocletian's Palace, added to and changed over the centuries. No more water either.

I expected that when I arrived at Split, that we'd be able to identify the perimeter of the old Palace. When our airport transfer dropped us off outside the Iron Gate, I was not in the least surprised by what I saw. When we stepped out of our driver's car, we were faced with an ancient wall as an architectural palimpsest showing the city's history dating from today all the way back to the original construction of the Palace. There are bits and pieces of walls, columns, windows, balconies, shops, fabric tent structures and much, much more bearing witness to how everyone who has lived in and around the city has used and adapted it throughout the centuries.

After we got our bearings and were met by someone from our hotel, we followed him into the city through the old Iron Gate that used to face the water. I didn't expect to be blown away when we stepped through the Iron Gate. But I was. There's just no other way to put it.

Diocletian's Palace substructure, leading to the Peristil.

When Diocletian moved into his new digs in Dalmatia, he lived in the portion of the Palace to the south along the water. I mean, why not? That part was probably the easiest to secure and the views of the water must have been killer. Where else would he have chosen for his private suite? To get to an audience with Diocletian, you would have (and I'm assuming with an advance appointment here) had to enter the city via a land gate; pass by or through the north side of the city which was a giant troop garrison housing 4,500 Roman soliders; and enter into the main public square of the city which was called the Peristil. From the Peristil (and I'm assuming there some interface with some sort of handler at that point), you'd proceed up a small set of stairs into the circular vestibule of Diocletian's Palace proper. 

If you entered the city via the Iron Gate from the water (and I'm not totally sure anyone did but it's a reasonable enough assumption), you'd pass through the Palace's substructures which were used for storage (primarily of food; it's cooler down there under the Palace); up a set of steps into the Peristil, pull a U-turn up the stairs and into the vestibule.

Here's the thing: other than the garrison, all of that stuff is still there. The Peristil, the vestibule and the substructure. All of it is still intact. And it's all incredible. When I stepped through the Iron Gate when we first got to Split, my thought when I stepped across the threshold and into the Palace was something along the lines of "Oh my God. This isn't shell of a Palace where everything inside has been cleaned out and replaced. What was here 1,700 years ago when the Palace was built is still here." And in case you missed it the first time, it's all incredible.

We happened to be staying in a hotel in the location where Diocletian's private quarters used to be, so our entrance into the city with our backpacks (no other luggage on this trip; backpacks only here) was through the substructure, up a set of stairs to the Peristil and through the old circular vestibule. Our introduction to the city sequence couldn't have been better. It was like we were headed to see Diocletian himself. And that arched brick and stone and mortar substructure that's in place after all those centuries of use is so impressive. It's honestly awe-inspiring. It takes you back to the times of ancient Rome immediately. It's so atmospheric and convincing, probably because it's actually the real deal original thing. Just ignore the souvenir stalls on both sides of the walkway.


The Peristil looking north (midday) and south (early morning).
The Peristil is even better than the substructure. It's a perfectly preserved Roman town (or in the case, palace) square. I am pretty confident in saying that it is virtually identical to how it looked when it was built, although I'm sure there were a few more Roman soldiers around back then. Check out the two in costume in the top picture above.

The Peristil today serves as the center of the city and the main access to the Cathedral of St. Dominus, whose belltower dominates the entire town of Split today. You can see the top of the belltower from pretty much anywhere in Split today and you can get some awesome views of the town and the surrounding countryside and water as you ascend to the top of the tower.

The belltower is not from Diocletian's time (it was built in the 12th century and substantially re-built in the 20th century), so I have deliberately not included pictures of it in this post (although there are some here and there incidentally in the pictures I have chosen). However, the Cathedral is original to the Palace. I know what you are thinking...didn't I just say that Diocletian made sport out of persecuting Christians? Why would he build a cathedral? And you'd be right. The Cathedral wasn't built for that function; it was built as Diocletian's mausoleum to eternally hold his remains after his death. It still does, but it's also used multiple times per week by the people he tried to drive out of the Roman empire worship the God that Diocletian tried to destroy. The ultimate irony is the building is the oldest Christian cathedral around in the entire world today. Take that, Diocletian!!!

In the middle of the day, the Peristil is chaos. There are people lingering and gawking and trying pass through all at once along with some who are paying the two dudes dressed like Roman soldiers for pictures and swordfights. Towards the evening, things calm down a little and the restaurant on the west side of the square sets up cushions and tables (which are really more like trays) around the space and hosts live music performances. 

There's also a gem of an artifact in the Peristil towards the southeastern corner: an Egyptian sphinx made out of black granite. This is actually the oldest thing in the city of Split. It's almost two full centuries older than Diocletian's Palace, forcibly relocated from its original location after the squashing of an uprising in Roman-held Egypt in the late third century. If this thing was in a museum, it would be surrounded by ropes and festooned with "Do Not Touch" signs. But no such thing in Split. It's just out there in the open for anyone to see and get as close as they want to and touch if they really feel the urge. It's pretty special in a town that's effectively an entire museum unto itself that there's something even older and more precious than the town itself.


The sphinx in the Pertistil and the north wall of Diocletian's Palace.

As special a space as the Peristil is, it wasn't my favorite part of Diocletian's Palace. That honor goes to the vestibule. But before I get to that, it's worth noting a couple of other glimpses of the original Palace that can be had in Split.

Besides the gates, the exterior walls, the substructure, the Peristil, the vestibule and the mausoleum-turned-Cathedral, the majority of the original Palace is no longer there. I know, the list of spaces I just rattled off seems like a lot (it actually reminds me of the "what have the Romans ever done for us?" part of Monty Python's The Life of Brian) but it's by no means close to the entirety of the interior of the original Palace. Outside of those spots, the rest of the original Palace has been repurposed, cannibalized, adapted or just plain removed and replaced with something different. The result is an organized maze (it looks intimidating but it's really pretty simple) of narrow passages built over the centuries into what it is today.

But if you hunt a bit, you can find some other parts of the original Palace. 


The old Temple of Jupiter in Split.

When Diocletian had the initial Palace designed, he certainly didn't envision a Christian cathedral. But he did have a temple built within the four walls of his fortress. That temple, dedicated to Jupiter, is still completely intact today and accessible from the other side of the Peristil opposite the Cathedral. And like the Cathedral, it's been repurposed as a Christian place of worship, serving as a chapel remote from the Cathedral rather than off the side of the church as they are typically located.

The old Temple of Jupiter is actually a little gem within the city. Other than having a statue of John the Baptist (awesomely sculpted by Croatia's native son Ivan Meštrović) placed in the back of the space, the building is pretty much untouched, including the representations of Jupiter, Apollo, Helios and Triton above the entrance to the building and the many, many faces carved into the vaulted ceiling of the space. As a tourist attraction, it's quite different from the Diocletian's former mausoleum. Whereas the Cathedral is covered with all sorts of ornaments and incense vessels and other sorts of Christian iconography and trappings, the old Temple of Jupiter is left alone. You can appreciate the original qualities of the place that must have been almost just as Diocletian himself experienced them. 

And once you are done with the Temple of Jupiter (and before or after you've already visited the vestibule), if you really want to be a completist, you can find pieces of the original flooring of the Palace here and there, including in the Cathedral and in a souvenir shop on the way from the Peristil to the Golden (or northern) Gate.


Glimpses of the original floors of Diocletian's Palace.

So about that vestibule.

The space between the Peristil and Diocletian's quarters in the old Palace is a circular space in plan with an entrance on either side and a series of niches around the perimeter of the room at ground level and a couple of other levels above the ground. As luck would have it for us, it is also the entrance to the forecourt of the hotel we were staying in, so it served as the entrance to where we were living for our two nights in Split.

When it was built as part of Diocletian's Palace, it was an enclosed space. I assume there may have even been doors on either side (assuming here based on the fact that security would most probably be required there). Today, the roof and whatever doors were on either side are gone. The ceiling and roof which used to be there replaced with a giant oculus at the top of the space. It's not historically accurate today but its ruin is actually as perfect a space as I can imagine today. I've been in the Pantheon in Rome which has an oculus by design. This accidental oculus is about as cool. 

The open top does two things for me. First it brings fresh air and light into the space and at night it allows the clear blue Croatian sky to be framed and seen by all passing through the space. It also offers looks at the Cathedral's bell tower. I know, I know, it's not original and if there were a ceiling in the space it's not like you couldn't see the bell tower from the exterior spaces on either side of the vestibule. But the framed view through the ruined ceiling turned oculus is pretty special.


The bell tower of the Cathedral of St. Dominus seen through the missing ceiling of the oculus (top) and morning in Split (bottom).
But the thing that I loved most about the vestibule was the music.

I had read in one of our guidebooks that you might be able to see and hear klapa groups singing in the vestibule at some times in the day. Klapa is traditionally a style of music sung by a four-person a cappella group of men with its subjects (according to Wikipedia) focused mostly on love, wine, their country and the sea. It's a deep, sonorous style of music that's rich and reverberates well in a circular, formerly domed space like the vestibule in Diocletian's Palace. I had this on my list as something that I wanted to experience in Split.

And sure enough, on our second day in the city, we were headed back to our hotel through the vestibule when we came upon a klapa group singing in the vestibule. The place was packed. The perimeter of the vestibule was crowded with tourists standing watching these four men with most holding their iPhones up and recording the event for posterity or for just storing on their hard drive or phone until they figure that there's no actual use to it for them. Apologies on the cynicism there.

We didn't want to stand in a mob of tourists and watch and listen. Too many people too close together. So we passed through the vestibule, ordered a glass of wine (Croatia's excellent pošip wine, if you must know) and sat in the dining area outside our hotel immediately outside the vestibule and listened to our free concert coming from the klapa singers in the space not 20 feet from where we were sitting.

This is one of my favorite memories of Split. We rarely slow down some days on vacation but we sometimes find the most special experiences when we do. This was just that kind of experience. It was perfect. I mean how could it not be? Sitting outside in a gorgeous Mediterranean, historic city listening to some traditional music while sipping some chilled white wine. Tell me what's wrong with that experience.

Our time spent in Diocletian's old Palace was awesome every minute of the time we were there, but I'm happiest with that 30 minute klapa concert. It capped that experience perfectly. I'd highly recommend it. 

Well done, Diocletian. Except for the whole persecution thing.

Klapa singers, Split.

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