In search of Dracula

Fact and fiction mingle in Romania

By Julie Skurdenis, Globe Correspondent, 10/25/98

IF YOU GO . . . How to get there

URTEA DE ARGES, Romania -- It couldn't have worked out more perfectly. The persistent drizzle that had dogged us since we left Bucharest escalated into a downpour as we reached Curtea de Arges, once the medieval capital of Wallachia. It was difficult to see the road immediately in front of us much less what surrounded us on either side.

But as we left Curtea de Arges behind, entering the Arges Valley, the rain abruptly ceased, revealing steep hillsides carpeted in emerald forests of conifers. Mist shrouded the tops of the mountain peaks, and swiftly moving clouds scudded across an ashen sky. Dragos, who was to be our guide in Romania for the next few weeks, pulled over to the side of the road near Arefu and pointed upward. We stared skyward at the mist. Suddenly, as if a gray silken curtain were pulled aside, the mist parted momentarily to reveal a jagged outline crowning the mountaintop in front of us. ``That,'' he said, ``is Dracula's castle.''

And so began a two-week odyssey in search of sites connected with Dracula. Originally, we had not intended to travel to Romania to search for the historical Dracula, but this first glimpse -- a ruined castle associated with one of the most notorious names in fact and fiction -- proved too tempting to resist.

But what of the man who built the castle 500 years ago? The Dracula I was familiar with was the Dracula of the dozens of films seen over the years and the Dracula portrayed in Bram Stoker's 1897 novel ``Dracula.'' This was Dracula the Vampire of Transylvania.

As I was planning the trip to Romania, I learned to my surprise that there was actually a real Dracula on whom the fictional Dracula was based (more or less). This Dracula was Vlad Tepes (the Impaler), born in 1431 in Transylvania in the central part of what is now Romania. His father was Vlad, who ruled neighboring Wallachia as ``voivode'' (prince) during his son's boyhood. Vlad was awarded the title ``dracul'' (dragon) in recognition of his campaigns against the Turks. The younger Vlad was called Dracula, meaning son of Dracul. The ``Impaler'' portion of his name was added later.

The historical Dracula was not by any standard a ``nice guy.'' But then the Middle Ages was not especially distinguished for its abundance of nice guys. Vlad Tepes, like his father before him, ruled Wallachia at various times. He earned the suffix ``the Impaler'' for meting out punishment by impaling his hapless victims on stakes. Not a big stretch of the imagination -- for me, at least -- to connect Vlad with vampires as others did after his death in 1476.

No surprise, then, that I should be as mesmerized by the ruined castle slipping in and out of the mist as I was by its builder.

It is possible to climb to visit the remnants of the castle, seemingly inaccessible when looked at from the valley road. After the rain, what is at best a difficult climb would have been an ordeal. So we contented ourselves with long-distance views from different angles as we drove toward Lake Vidra. According to Dragos, not much is left of the fortress-castle. What wasn't destroyed by the passage of the centuries succumbed to recent earthquakes.

The climb we didn't do at Dracula's castle we did at Sighisoara, the atmospheric medieval town in Transylvania where Dracula was born in 1431. There, a 17th-century covered wooden stairway ascends -- we counted 177 steps -- to the top of the hill on which is located a 14th-century Saxon church undergoing restoration. Adjacent is an ancient overgrown cemetery guarded by a wolflike hound. This is not a cemetery I would care to visit after dusk or on a stormy day. All those Dracula films kept running through my mind like a nonstop movie reel as we walked among the dilapidated graves.

At the foot of the hill, near Sighisoara's medieval Clock Tower and within the ancient walls enclosing the town is the house where Dracula was born. It now houses a restaurant. Across the street, vendors sell hand-painted Dracula T-shirts.

Forty miles southwest of Sighisoara is Sibiu, one of several Transylvanian Saxon towns founded by settlers from Germany in the 12th century. It boasts a preserved Old Town radiating out from a large square, the Piata Mare. In a nearby smaller square, Piata Grivita, is the Evangelical Cathedral with a superb collection of funerary plaques. Dracula's son Mihnea the Bad, who reigned as prince of Wallachia for one brief year, was murdered outside the church in 1510. His tomb rests in the cathedral's crypt. Other than Mihnea's tomb, Sibiu has no other connection to Dracula, but it would be a mistake to miss spending a night or two here.

Dracula himself rests on an island in a lake in Snagov, 25 miles north of Bucharest. This is a resort area where residents of Bucharest come during the summer to participate in water sports. The Ceausescus had a weekend villa here. As we were rowed out to the island -- one of many dotting the lake -- our boatman pointed to the villa and murmured comments we were sure would have been unprintable if we had understood them. Having read of Dracula's atrocities, we might have said the same about the object of our own search.

The monastery containing the tomb is under extensive renovation. Nevertheless, a nun greeted us as we approached, unlocked the door of the church, and beckoned us inside. Under the scaffolding, in the gloom, she pointed out a plain slab in front of where the main altar once stood. On the slab was propped a picture of Dracula, one of the few existing portraits of the man destined to be associated with vampires.

When this tomb was opened in the 1930s, nothing was found but animal bones. But under another slab nearby was found a decapitated body dressed in princely clothes. Since it is rumored that Dracula's head was sent to the Turkish sultan after his murder in 1476, it is possible that this could be Dracula's final resting place. The nun patiently tried to explain this to us in Romanian. Since our collective knowledge of Romanian amounted to about a dozen words, she soon gave up. Then she offered us rosary beads for sale. Considering whose tomb we were visiting, I bought a half-dozen. It couldn't hurt.

Another site worthy of a visit is the small town of Bran, 18 miles southwest of Brasov, another Transylvanian city with a well-preserved Old Town. Here is located Bran Castle, an atmospheric concoction of towers surrounding a central courtyard. Its photo appears on Romanian postcards and brochures, and it is billed as ``Dracula's Castle.'' It isn't. At best, Dracula may have attacked it on one of his campaigns. Nonetheless, it is lovely, the kind of intimate castle I'd give much to call my own -- with or without Dracula.