If you look ahead, you’ll spot a tall, slim stone bell tower with a pointy roof and cross on top, rising above the trees like it’s playing hide and seek-just follow the tower, and you’re in the right place!
Now, picture yourself traveling back almost a thousand years, when this spot was buzzing with the quiet footsteps of Benedictine nuns and the faint clang of church bells. In 1069, Archbishop Lovro founded this women’s monastery right here, next to the great Diocletian’s Palace. The very first nuns-Katena, her sister Stana, and a group of companions whose names sound like a medieval girl band (Ana, Agapis, Vera, and more)-settled in and created a refuge for noblewomen of Split. They must have had some secrets swirling behind these walls!
At first, the monastery was named after St. Benedict, but when the beloved Bishop Arnir was buried in the church, it got a new nickname-his! Over time, thanks to some generous kings, like King Zvonimir, and helpful popes, the sisters received lands and gifts, growing their peaceful stronghold. Can you imagine all the nuns going about their prayers and daily work, while the cities and kingdoms outside changed hands, rulers, and history?
Legend says even noblewomen came here to escape the noisy world-including Jelena, daughter of a Bosnian ban, who found her final peace within these walls. In 1444, the master mason Juraj Dalmatinac built the stunning chapel of Blessed Arnir, and if you look around, you’ll see it’s still here-how’s that for lasting craftsmanship?
But not every day here was peaceful. The French came, the nuns were forced to leave for Zadar, and this place even became a military hospital. Then, in 1888, disaster struck-a great fire left the church in ruins, and most of the monastery was destroyed in 1945, leaving us with just this bell tower and chapel as reminders.
So, as you stand here, imagine the echoes of whispered prayers and royal intrigue behind these stones-a place where faith, power, flames, and history all left their mark. Not bad for a little corner of Split, right?
