Legends
Secrets and Mystical Tales of Lokrum Island
Photo: Boris Krstinić
THE LEGEND OF THE BENEDICTINE CURSE
The story goes that on the night before their forced departure, the Benedictine monks gathered, pulled their hoods deep over their faces, lit candles, and turned them upside down. With heads bowed, murmuring prayers and somber chants, they began a nocturnal procession along the ancient path around their estate, mourning their loss and bidding farewell to their beautiful home.
But the legend adds a much-needed touch of drama to this farewell. In the faint, flickering candlelight, the dark and mysterious procession is said to have pronounced a curse upon all future owners of the island. The legend might have faded into obscurity were it not for the misfortunes and deaths that began to be linked to those who either proposed selling the island or became its owners.
The tragedies that struck the family of Austrian Emperor and Croatian King Franz Joseph I — the owner of Lokrum — further strengthened the legend’s mystique. The execution of his brother, Archduke Maximilian, in Mexico; the assassination of his wife, Empress Elisabeth (known as Sisi), on Lake Geneva; and the suicide of his son and heir, Crown Prince Rudolf, in Mayerling, all intertwine into a bloody chain of events that cast a dark, almost tangible shadow over Lokrum.
But the legend adds a much-needed touch of drama to this farewell. In the faint, flickering candlelight, the dark and mysterious procession is said to have pronounced a curse upon all future owners of the island. The legend might have faded into obscurity were it not for the misfortunes and deaths that began to be linked to those who either proposed selling the island or became its owners.
The tragedies that struck the family of Austrian Emperor and Croatian King Franz Joseph I — the owner of Lokrum — further strengthened the legend’s mystique. The execution of his brother, Archduke Maximilian, in Mexico; the assassination of his wife, Empress Elisabeth (known as Sisi), on Lake Geneva; and the suicide of his son and heir, Crown Prince Rudolf, in Mayerling, all intertwine into a bloody chain of events that cast a dark, almost tangible shadow over Lokrum.
THE STORY OF THE SALE OF THE LAZARETTO
A man noticed a beautiful piece of land on Lokrum and wished to buy it. He bargained with the Republic, with the monks, and with anyone who might have owned the land, but he could not reach an agreement. So, he resorted to cunning. He proposed to the owner that he give him as much land as he could cover with an oxhide. They agreed.
The man took the largest oxhide he could find, sharpened a blade, and cut the hide into strips as thin as possible. He made a long thong from it. Then he placed stakes around the plot of land and stretched the thong between them, enclosing the area. When he had finished, he invited the owner to see the land he had “covered.” The owner, realizing he had been outwitted, had no choice but to agree and sell the enclosed land.
The man took the largest oxhide he could find, sharpened a blade, and cut the hide into strips as thin as possible. He made a long thong from it. Then he placed stakes around the plot of land and stretched the thong between them, enclosing the area. When he had finished, he invited the owner to see the land he had “covered.” The owner, realizing he had been outwitted, had no choice but to agree and sell the enclosed land.
LTHE LEGEND OF RICHARD’S SHIPWRECK
Returning from the Crusades in 1192, the English king sailed the Mediterranean aboard a Venetian ship in November — a gloomy, stormy, and treacherous month.
The story goes that, battered by fierce winds and waves and with only the mercy of Heaven to rely on, he vowed to build two churches dedicated to the Virgin Mary: one on the mainland where he first set foot ashore, and the other in his homeland.
In the intertwining of legend — perhaps originally inspired by the Lokrum Benedictines — and historical records, Lokrum emerges as the island that sheltered Richard’s ship, likely at the relatively safe anchorage near today’s Skalica, overlooking the city of Dubrovnik.
According to old Dubrovnik chroniclers, as soon as the townspeople spotted the anchored ship, they sent an envoy to greet the king and ferry him to the city. There, they presented him with gifts, offered rest and recovery, and — since they had just resolved to build a new cathedral — pressured him to dedicate his vow to their city’s cathedral, promising in return to fulfill his vow by building a church on Lokrum. Richard then departed on a Dubrovnik ship, sailing on to meet his destiny.
The story goes that, battered by fierce winds and waves and with only the mercy of Heaven to rely on, he vowed to build two churches dedicated to the Virgin Mary: one on the mainland where he first set foot ashore, and the other in his homeland.
In the intertwining of legend — perhaps originally inspired by the Lokrum Benedictines — and historical records, Lokrum emerges as the island that sheltered Richard’s ship, likely at the relatively safe anchorage near today’s Skalica, overlooking the city of Dubrovnik.
According to old Dubrovnik chroniclers, as soon as the townspeople spotted the anchored ship, they sent an envoy to greet the king and ferry him to the city. There, they presented him with gifts, offered rest and recovery, and — since they had just resolved to build a new cathedral — pressured him to dedicate his vow to their city’s cathedral, promising in return to fulfill his vow by building a church on Lokrum. Richard then departed on a Dubrovnik ship, sailing on to meet his destiny.
