THE PRINCE OF MONTENEGRO—UNJUST DEPRIVATION OF TERRITORY—ORIGIN
OF THE NAME OF THE COUNTRY—A FRIEND IN NEED—VILLAGE OF
NIEGOSCH—PANORAMA SEEN FROM THE TOP OF THE PASS—WILD-LOOKING
HERDS AND FLOCKS—MONTENEGRIN LEGEND—ARRIVAL AT CETTIGNE—THE
VLADIKA'S PALACE—THE TREE OF JUSTICE—TOWER OF CETTIGNE.
During my stay in Montenegro, I had the honour of several private
conversations with the Prince of that interesting country, and I was
astonished at the amount of practical knowledge he possessed, and the
advanced views he entertained, with regard to commerce, administration,
and political economy. But he is cramped up in every way, Montenegro has
no outlet, and though his native mountains come so near to the Adriatic
that a man could almost spring from them into the sea, still there
is everywhere a narrow strip of land between them and that sea, which
effectually excludes him from direct commercial or other intercourse
with the rest of the world.
This strip of land, in some places only a few yards wide, belongs to
Austria and forms part of the Province of Dalmatia. During the reign of
Napoleon I. the Principality of Montenegro extended for a short period
to the sea shore, and Cattaro was occupied by the Montenegrins till the
14th June, 1814, when it was most unjustly taken away from them again
and incorporated with the Austrian Empire by the Congress of Vienna. An
act of injustice all the more flagrant, that the Turkish territory was
allowed to come down to the sea at the opening of the Gulf of Cattaro,
dividing the territory of Ragusa from that of Cattaro, and thus affording
the Mahommedan rulers of a Christian land advantages which are denied
to the neighbouring Christian Principality.
But whilst I am admiring the scene before me and pondering over the
wrongs and the resources of these interesting countries, I must not
forget that the sun is every moment getting higher in the heavens, and
that it is important to get on with our journey, in order to avoid being
out on those arid rocks during the heat of the day.
Our caravan was now in motion again, but the road having almost ceased
to exist, we had to proceed more cautiously, picking our way among loose
stones and boulders, sometimes following a sort of path, and sometimes
climbing up the dried up water-courses of Winter torrents. After another
short interval of clambering, we reached a fountain where everyone
considered it his duty to dismount and drink, as did also our cattle.
When we had refreshed ourselves with copious draughts from that cool
spring we again faced up the mountain, but this time on foot, as owing
to the steepness and ruggedness of the rocks, it was not deemed advisable
to attempt it on horseback.
Except climbing up the cone of Vesuvius, where one generally makes two
steps in advance and three steps backwards, I never met anything more
trying than some parts of this ascent into Tchernagora or the "Black
Mountains," as the natives called this region, and which was rendered
by the Venetians into "Montenegro," the name it retains to this day.
The sun was becoming extremely hot, and I should have found it
considerably difficult to keep my place, but for the occasional assistance
afforded me by the powerful hand and arm of my Prince of Mountaineers,
Pero Pejovich, who whenever I came to some rugged impediment which
seemed to tax my energies more than usual, would quickly, with one hand
passed under my arms close below my shoulder, lift me bodily over it,
with his broad good-humoured face beaming with smiles; and when I tell
you, gentle reader, that I sometimes weigh _more_ but never less than
fourteen stone, I leave you to calculate the strength of my amiable giant.
We had now topped the worst of our ascent, and remounting our horses
commenced a short descent to a little plain surrounded by steep, rugged,
barren rocks seemingly the bed of some ancient dried up lake. At the
further extremity of this little plain could be seen half-a-dozen
scattered houses forming the village of Niegosch, the birth-place of
the Prince of Montenegro, as well as the cradle of his race, from which
they take their patronimic of Petrovich Niegosch.
We rode up straight to the principal house where we were expected and
received by a young Petrovich, a cousin of the Prince, a very handsome
young fellow, with whom unfortunately I could only have conversation by
the help of Pero Pejovich, who speaking Italian as well as Montenegrin,
always proved himself a most valuable interpreter.
We made a very short stay here, as we wanted to reach Cettigne before
the middle of the day; so having partaken of some excellent coffee,
served up with toast and such clotted cream as I never before tasted
out of Devonshire, and having admired the gorgeous arms which hung round
young Petrovich's room, each of which had some story attached to it, all
being trophies taken in battle from the Turks, we mounted our horses,
and again plunging into a ravine recommenced the difficult ascent.
After a short but arduous climb, we at length reached the top of the pass
and the highest point between Cattaro and Cettigne. Here a wonderful
panorama spread itself out before us—not beautiful, perhaps, but grand
in its way. Right, left, and front, nothing could be seen but barren,
grey mountain tops—except right in front of us, where at a short distance
lay the valley of Cettigne, also apparently the bed of an ancient Alpine
lake. Beyond that plain the bleak and rocky mountains closed in again;
and beyond them, far in the hazy distance, shining in the noon-day sun,
could be seen the glittering lake of Scutari, or more properly of Skodra,
in Northern Albania.
A scene like this could scarcely be conceived, such a wilderness of rocks,
such a picture of sterility, had never met my eyes. Peak after peak,
desolate and barren, rose in every direction, as far as the sight could
reach; and as the point on which we stood must have been more than four
thousand feet above the sea, the distance we could see in that bright
clear atmosphere may be imagined.
The rocks of which those mountains are formed looked ashy grey in the
bright sunlight, except here and there in some of the ravines where a
scanty, scrubby vegetation, struggling for existence, offered a precarious
subsistence to considerable flocks of small wild goats, herded by still
wilder-looking children. These grey rocky masses, when it rains, become
of a dark slate colour, nearly black, and hence arose the name of the
country, Tchernagora.
To account for the presence of such immense quantities of stones in their
country, the Montenegrins have a legend which says that after the Creator
had made this earth, the Devil was permitted to go and scatter stones
all over it. He carried the stones in a bag over his shoulder, but as
he passed in his flight over their country, the bag suddenly burst, and
thus a greater share of stones fell to their lot than they were fairly
entitled to.
I don't know which was the most fatiguing, the climb up to the top of the
pass, or the scramble down; I think the latter, and if I did reach the
bottom without a fall or a sprained ankle, I owe it all to my excellent
fellow-traveller, Pero Pejovich, who kept a sturdy hold of me all through,
and saved me, I am sure, from many an ugly tumble.
At last we found ourselves in the little plain of Cettigne, and putting
spurs to our small horses cantered over the turf till we reached the
first houses of the straggling street which constitutes the capital of
one of the most interesting countries in Europe.
The next travellers who visit Cettigne will find there good accommodation
in a spacious hotel, which was all but completed before I left; but when
I was there, nothing existed in the shape of an inn except a couple of
very wretched khans, where it would have been difficult to get rest,
owing to the activity of the insect population and the total absence of
every accommodation. Thanks to the liberal hospitality of His Highness,
I was provided, by his orders, with apartments in the ancient fortified
palace of the Vladikas, or Prince-Bishops of Montenegro, to which I was
conducted by one of His Highness's aide-de-camps, who had come to meet
me. This gentleman had been educated in France, at the Military School
of St. Cyr, spoke French like a Parisian, and was most kind in never
allowing me to want for anything. Guessing that I did not know a word
of Slave, he had most thoughtfully appointed a man in the town, who
could speak a few words of Italian, to attend me during my stay, and to
provide me daily with food from a sort of very primitive restaurant in
the place.
Having rested a couple of hours after eating an early dinner, according
to the fashion of southern countries, I received a visit from Mr. Nico
Matanovich, the gentleman alluded to above, and to whom I was indebted
for the comfort with which I was installed, who in company with the
Russian Consul (who was residing at the new Palace with the Prince), came
to propose a walk about the place as soon as the sun should be somewhat
nearer to the horizon. Having ordered up coffee, as is always expected
in these countries, Mr. Nico Matanovich conveyed to me the agreeable
information that His Highness would receive me the following day at
eleven o'clock in the morning. In reply, I begged he would present my
humble respects to His Highness, and my unbounded thanks for the handsome
manner in which I was treated.
The sun being now sufficiently low, we sallied forth to take a turn
round the place, and see what was to be seen. But before I leave my
quarters, let me try to give some idea of the Vladika's Palace, where I
was lodged. This quaint old building consists of a quadrangle of about
a hundred and fifty paces[7] either way, surrounded by a very massive
and high wall, pierced by two large roofed-in gateways, one in front
and one at the side, and having at each corner a round squat tower
with a conical roof, reminding one somewhat of those that surround, at
intervals, the Kremlin at Moscow. Running midway from side to side, and
dividing this enclosure into about two equal parts is the palace itself,
which consists of two stories, the second of which is divided into a
series of chambers, each about sixteen feet square and ten feet high,
all opening into each other, and communicating also at the back with a
wide corridor which goes the whole length of the building. The windows,
of which there are two to each room, look into the front compartment of
the quadrangle, while the windows of the corridor look on the back.
The entrance is by a hall door from which one ascends at once to the
upper story, by means of a massive wooden staircase formed of solid
beams of timber roughly hewn. The lower story has been turned partly
into an arsenal, principally filled with ancient weapons taken from the
Turks, and partly into a Government school; the upper rooms are occupied
at one end by the Archimandrite and some other officials—the rest are
untenanted. In the centre of the front court-yard is a deep well of the
most delicious water, and so cold that I used it to cool my wine and
beer with nearly as much success as if I had been using snow. The back
compartment was a kitchen-garden and orchard.
Leaving the old Palace by the side gate which opens upon one of the
two streets that constitute the town of Cettigne, we found ourselves
opposite to the new Palace lately built by the Prince—the style of which
I in no wise admire, though I do not doubt it is comfortable enough
inside; but it has no character whatever, and looks insignificant when
compared with the old Palace. If the money spent on building the new
had been judiciously laid out in adding to the old, a truly fine Palace
could have been erected, with all the old characteristics preserved,
which the eyes of the people, as well as of travellers, would have had
an historical stamp as the abode of all the old Vladikas, those ancient
Prince-Bishops—Bishops of the Church Militant—who for many years had
valiantly defended their country, their liberty, and their faith against
the unceasing attacks of the Infidels.
Opposite this gate, and just midway in the very broad street between the
old and the new Palace, stands a large carob tree, with a stone bench
of roughly hewn blocks round its trunk, and here in Summer from about
nine o'clock every morning the Prince sits for some hours administering
justice. I often watched him with the greatest interest from a window in
the old Palace. It was like acting a chapter in the Old Testament—Deborah
judging Israel under a palm tree, "between Ramah and Beth-el in Mount
Ephraim!" Beyond the "Tree of Justice" one came to the new Palace, a
homely structure, as I said before, and of no pretence. At the gate two
sentries of the Prince's bodyguard, in full Montenegrin costume, mount
guard, and are constantly relieved every hour, their barracks being
exactly opposite. The process of relieving guard is very simple—two
privates walk out of the barracks with their long breechloaders over
their shoulders "_à volonté_," and take their station on each side of
the gateway of the Palace, while the other two walk back into barracks,
and that is all.
We now turned our backs on the "Tree of Justice," and walked up the
street, which is but short, until we came to the main street which crosses
it at right angles. This main street is not paved, but is wide, and the
houses on each side, though seemingly poor and wretched in the extreme
in our eyes, are, most probably, comfortable enough in theirs; and as
they do not even possess a word in their language to denote "comfort,"
what we would consider such, would, perhaps, be only considered by them
an uneasy restraint.
Turning now to the right we walked to the end of the street, where
is the new hotel with the post and telegraph office. The hotel, as I
previously said, was not yet opened, though the building was completed,
and when supplied with beds, tables, and chairs will be a very creditable
affair, incomparably better than any hotel in Dalmatia. Near the hotel, a
little to the left, is another modern institution, evincing in no small
degree the enlightened anxiety of the Prince for the advancement of his
country. It is a _Pensionnat de demoiselles_ for the education of the
daughters of the better classes, both of Montenegro and the surrounding
countries; it can accommodate forty pupils, and is superintended by a
charming and highly accomplished Russian lady, assisted by efficient
governesses. The charge being very small, only £20 per annum, it must
be largely subsidized by His Highness.
Being vacation time, I had not the satisfaction of seeing any of the
boarders, much to the regret of Mademoiselle Pakievitch, who kindly
showed me all over the institution, which was admirably neat and clean.
She was anxious that I should have heard some of the pupils speak English
and French. "I think you would have been both pleased and surprised,"
said she. The majority spoke Illyrian, Russian and German, while several
were proficient in addition with both English and French, and one with
Albanian also. The institution is under the special patronage of the
Empress of Russia, who takes the greatest interest in it, and constantly
sends presents to it.
Keeping now a little to the right, and following the path which leads to
the town of Rieka, we soon came to the foot of the crags which on that
side close in with an impassable barrier the little plain of Cettigne.
We now turned sharp round and set our faces towards the town, as the
lengthening shadows warned us that the sun was already setting behind
the mountains which we had traversed in the morning. The smooth plain
covered with short grass was delightful to walk over, though one had
to be careful of one's steps owing to the many wells with which it is
dotted for the purpose of getting water for the cattle, and which, quite
level with the ground and without the semblance of a parapet, might have
swallowed one up before one would have had time to see them.
Right before us, standing a little to the left and just beyond the old
palace, could be seen in the distance the ancient monastery which in old
times used to be occupied by the Archimandrite, in the days when the
Vladika used to inhabit the palace; but now that Church and State are
separated, it is occupied by Monsignor Roganovitch, the Metropolitan of
Montenegro.
Just above it, perched upon a rock and standing out in bold relief
against the glowing sky, could be seen the old tower of Cettigne, an
ancient piece of masonry which until three or four years ago used to
be constantly decorated with the heads of Turks killed and decapitated
in their several skirmishes and forays. This barbarous custom has now
been abandoned, never to be resumed again it is to be hoped, and the
present Prince, further to turn away the thoughts of the natives from
the barbarous habit of their forefathers, has caused a belfry to be
erected on the top of the tower wherein is placed a large bell, which
is only rung in cases of great alarm to gather the tribes. The bell is
very heavy, and much ingenuity and labour were required to transport it
on men's backs from Cattaro to Cettigne.
By the time we got back to the Palace it was dark, so wishing good night
to my kind friends I made a frugal supper and went to bed.