the wild animals which formerly infested them. Wolves, bears, wild
boars, previously so numerous, have almost disappeared, and those still
met with occasionally are supposed to come from the forests of Syrmia,
crossing the frozen Save in winter. The fauna and flora of Servia are
gradually losing their original features. The introduction of the
domesticated animals and cultivated plants from Austria has given to
Servia a South German aspect. Nor does the climate much differ from
some parts of Southern Germany. Servia, though under the same latitude
as Tuscany, rejoices by no means in an Italian climate. The Dalmatian
or Bosnian mountain ramparts shut out the vivifying south-westerly
winds, whilst the dry and cold winds from the steppes of Russia have
free access over the plains of Wallachia. Strangers do not readily
acclimatise themselves, owing to abrupt changes of temperature.[55]
Servia includes within its limits but a small proportion of all the
Servians of Eastern Europe, but its inhabitants are probably not far
wrong when they look upon themselves as the purest representatives of
their race. They are, as a rule, tall, vigorous, with broad shoulders
and an erect head. Their features are marked, the nose straight and
often aquiline, and the cheek-bones a trifle prominent; the hair
is abundant and rarely black, the eyes are piercing and cold, and
a well-cultivated moustache imparts a military air to the men. The
women, without being good-looking, have a noble presence, and their
semi-oriental costume is distinguished by an admirable harmony of
colours. Even in the towns, where French fashions carry the day,
Servian ladies occasionally wear the national dress, consisting of a
red vest, a belt and chemisette embroidered with pearls, strings of
sequins, and a little fez stuck jauntily upon the head.
Unfortunately the custom of the country requires that a Servian woman
should have an abundance of black hair and a dazzling white complexion.
Paint, dyes, and false tresses are universal in town and country.
Even in the most remote villages the peasant women dye their hair
and paint their cheeks, lips, {176} and eyebrows, frequently making
use of poisonous substances injurious to health. Rich country-people
are, moreover, in the habit of making an exhibition of their wealth
by means of their clothes, which they overload with gold and silver
ornaments and gewgaws of every kind. In some districts brides and
young women wear a most extraordinary head-dress, consisting of an
enormous crescent of cardboard, to which are attached nosegays, leaves,
peacock feathers, and artificial roses with silver petals. This heavy
head-dress may symbolize the “burdens of matrimony;” it certainly
exposes the wearer to great inconvenience.
The Servians are honourably distinguished amongst the people of the
East by the nobility of their character, their dignified bearing, and,
in spite of recent events, incontestable bravery. For centuries they
resisted oppression, and, notwithstanding their isolation and poverty,
they conquered their independence in the beginning of this century.
They are said to be idle and suspicious—qualities which their former
servitude accounts for—but at the same time honest and truthful. It is
difficult to cheat them, but they themselves never cheat. Equals when
under the dominion of the Turks, they are equals still. “There are no
nobles amongst us,” they say, “for we are all nobles.” In their clear
and sonorous language, so well suited to oratory, they fraternally
address each other in the second person singular. Even prisoners are
looked upon as brothers, and it is customary to permit a condemned
criminal to visit his family on his giving his word of honour to return
to prison.
The ties of family and friendship are a great power in Servia. It
frequently happens that young men who have learnt to like each other
take an oath of fraternal friendship, in the manner of the brothers
in arms of Scythia, and this fraternity of heart is more sacred to
them than that of blood. It is a remarkable fact, and one which speaks
favourably for the high moral tone of the Servians, that their deep
family affections and friendships do not lead to incessant acts of
retaliation and vengeance, as amongst their neighbours the Albanians.
The Servian is brave; he is always armed, but he is also peaceable,
and does not demand blood for blood. Still, like other men, he is not
perfect. As an agriculturist he follows the more obsolete routine. He
is ignorant and superstitious. The peasants firmly believe in vampires,
sorcerers, and magicians, and, in order to guard against their evil
influences, they rub themselves with garlic on Christmas-eve.
Land is held by families in common, as amongst the other Slavs of the
South. The ancient _zadruga_, such as it existed in the Middle Ages, is
still preserved, and has never been interfered with by Roman or German
laws, as in Dalmatia or Slavonia. On the contrary, the law of Servia
protects this ancient form of tenure, and, in cases of a disputed
will, relatives by adoption take precedence of those by blood. Servian
patriots are desirous to see these ancient customs respected, and
the members of the _Skupshtina_, or parliament, have never attacked
this common proprietorship in the soil, for they look upon it as one
of the surest safeguards against pauperism. Servia offers the best
opportunity for studying agricultural {177} communities of this kind.
Nowhere else are the features of family life equally delightful. The
heavy day’s work is followed by an evening devoted to pleasure. The
children gather round their parents to listen to the warlike legends of
old, or the young men sing, accompanying themselves upon the _guzla_.
All those belonging to the association are looked upon as members of
the family. The _staryeshina_, or head of the community, has charge
of the education of the children, whom he is required to bring up as
“good and honest citizens, useful to their fatherland.” Yet, in spite
of all these advantages, the _zadrugas_ decrease from year to year.
The demands of commerce and industry interfere with their accustomed
routine, and they will hardly survive much longer in their present form.
A great portion of Eastern Servia has been occupied by Wallachians, who
were invited to the country after the war of independence, when vast
districts had been depopulated. These new settlers, being more prolific
than their neighbours, gradually gain upon the Servians, and already
some of their colonies are met with on the western bank of the Morava.
Many Servian villages have become Wallachian as far as language can
make them so. It is a strange fact that these Rumanian colonists should
prosper in Servia, whilst Servian colonists from Hungary and Slavonia
do not.
Zinzares, or Southern Wallachians, are met with in most towns, where
they work as masons, carpenters, and bricklayers.
Bulgarians have settled in the valleys of the Timok and Morava, in the
south-east. They are highly esteemed for their industry, and quickly
assimilate with the Servians. Near Alexinatz there is a small colony
of Albanians, whilst Tsigani, or gipsies, are met with in all parts of
the country. They profess to be Christians, and one of their principal
occupations is the manufacture of bricks. The Spanish Jews, so numerous
formerly at Belgrad, have most of them retired to Semlin, their places
being filled by German and Hungarian Jews.[56]
Taken as a whole, Servia was a prosperous country before the recent
war. The population has increased rapidly since the declaration of
independence, but is not nearly as dense yet as in the neighbouring
plains of Hungary or Wallachia. Scarcely one-eighth of the area is
under cultivation, and agricultural operations are for the most
part carried on in the rudest manner. Excepting in the most fertile
valleys, such as that of the Lower Timok, the fields are allowed to lie
fallow every second year. The exports of Servia clearly exhibit the
rudimentary condition of its agriculture, for they consist principally
of lean pigs, which find their way in thousands to the markets of
Germany, and of cattle. The peasant of Servia derives most of his
revenue from the sale of these animals. Within the last few years he
has also exported some wheat to the markets of Western Europe. If it
were not for the Bulgarian labourers who annually flock to the country
in search of field-work, Servia would not produce sufficient corn for
its own consumption.[57] {178}
Industry throughout the country is still in its infancy. The Servian
despises all manual labour excepting agriculture, and it is for this
reason he looks down upon the German mechanics in the towns. Young
men of the least education aspire to government employment, and the
bureaucratic plague, which has wrought such injury in the neighbouring
Austro-Hungarian empire, is thus being developed. There are, however,
others who have studied at foreign universities, and who devote their
energies to the spread of education at home. The progress made in
this respect within the last few years has been enormous. In 1839 the
sovereign of the country could neither read nor write, whilst, at
the present time, Servia, with its numerous schools and colleges, is
becoming the intellectual centre of the Balkan peninsula.[58]
The Servians have used their best efforts to remove from their country
everything reminding them of the ancient dominion of the Mussulman,
and they have nearly accomplished this. The Belgrad of the Turks has
been converted by them into a Western city, like Vienna or Buda-Pest;
palaces in European style have arisen in the place of mosques and
minarets; magnificent boulevards intersect the old quarters of the
town; and the esplanade, where the Turks exposed the heads of their
victims stuck on poles, has been converted into a park. Shabatz, on
the Save, has become a “little Paris;” Semendria (Smederevo), on the
Danube, which gave the signal of rebellion in 1806, has arisen like a
phœnix from its ashes; whilst Posharevatz, known as Passarovitz in the
history of treaties, has likewise been transformed. Progress is slower
in the interior, but good roads now extend to the most remote corners
of the country.
Servia is an hereditary constitutional monarchy. The Prince, or
_Kniaz_, governs with the aid of responsible ministers and of a senate;
he promulgates the laws, appoints all public functionaries, commands
the army, and signs the treaties. He rejoices in a civil list of
£20,000. His successor, in the case of there being no male heir, is
to be elected by universal suffrage. The _Skupshtina_, or national
parliament, traces back its origin to the earliest times of a Servian
monarchy. It numbers 134 members, of whom one-fourth are nominated
by the Prince, and the remainder elected by all male taxpayers. This
parliament exercises legislative functions conjointly with the Prince.
In addition to it there exist rural parliaments in each of the 1,063
_obshtinas_, or parishes, and these enjoy extended rights of local
self-government. The constitution provides for the election of a
_Skupshtina_ of 536 members by universal suffrage, should extraordinary
events make such a meeting desirable. The affairs of the country have
hitherto been managed satisfactorily. A revenue of £554,000 sufficed
for the requirements of the State, and up to the outbreak of the war
there existed no public debt.
Religious liberty exists, but the Greek Church is declared to be
that of the State. It has been independent of the Patriarch of
Constantinople since 1376, and {179} is governed by a synod consisting
of the Archbishop of Belgrad and the Bishops of Ushitza, Negotin, and
Shabatz. The former is appointed by the Prince. The high dignitaries
of the Church are in receipt of salaries, but ordinary priests are
dependent upon fees and gifts. The monasteries have been suppressed by
a recent decision of the _Skupshtina_, and their revenues are to be
devoted to educational purposes.
The military forces of the country consist of a standing army of about
4,000 men, and of a militia including all men capable of bearing arms
up to fifty years of age. The first ban of this militia is called out
annually for training, the second ban only in case of war. Servia
is thus able to place an army of 150,000 men in the field, but the
efficiency of these badly trained troops leaves much to be desired, as
has been shown by recent events.
The country is divided into seventeen _okrushias_, or districts, viz.
Alexinatz, Belgrad, Chachak, Chupriya, Knyashevatz, Kraguyevatz, Kraina
(capital, Negotin), Krushevatz, Podrinye (Loznitza), Posharevatz,
Rudnik (Milanovitz), Shabatz, Smederevo, Tserna-Reka (Zaichar),
Ushitza, Valyevo, and Yagodina. The only towns of importance are
Belgrad (27,000 inhabitants), Posharevatz (7,000 inhabitants), Shabatz
(6,700 inhabitants), and Kraguyevatz (6,000 inhabitants).
MONTENEGRO.
The name Montenegro is a translation of the Servian Tsrnagora, or
“black mountains.” It is a curious designation for a country of
white or greyish calcareous mountains, whose colour even strikes the
voyager on the Adriatic. The name, according to some, is to be taken
figuratively, and is to be understood as designating a country of “bad”
or “black” men; others are of opinion that it refers to ancient pine
forests which have now disappeared.
The Turks have never succeeded in subjugating the Montenegrins,
who found safety in their mountain fastnesses. Occasionally the
Montenegrins placed themselves under the protection of a foreign
power, such as that of Venice, but they never acknowledged the Sultan
as their sovereign. The mountains, however, to which they owe their
independence, are at the same time their weakness, for they isolate
them from the rest of the world. A high range of mountains, as well
as a strip of Turkish territory, separates them from their Servian
kinsmen; another range, held by the Austrians, cuts them off from
the Gulf of Cattaro and the Adriatic Sea. The small Lake of Scutari
(Skodra) is their sea; the Zeta and Moracha, which feed it, are their
national rivers. If the Montenegrins were permitted to descend into the
plains without sacrificing their independence, the arid plateaux now
inhabited by them would soon be deserted by all but shepherds.
The eastern portion of Montenegro, which is known as the Berda, and
drained by the Moracha and its tributaries, is comparatively of easy
access. The mighty dolomitic pyramids of the Dormitor (8,550 feet)
command its valleys in the {180} north, whilst the rounded heights
of Kom (9,000 feet) bound it on the east. The Berda differs in no
respect from most other mountain countries. It is only in the western
portion of the country, in Montenegro proper, that we meet with
features altogether distinct. We there find ourselves in a labyrinth
of cavities, valleys, and depressions, separated by craggy calcareous
ridges, abounding in narrow fissures, the hiding-places of adders.
Only the mountaineers are able to find their way in this inextricable
labyrinth. “When God created the world,” they tell you laughing, “he
held in his hand a sack full of mountains. Right above Montenegro the
sack burst, and hence the fearful chaos of rocks which you see before
you.”
[Illustration: Fig. 49.—MONTENEGRO AND THE LAKE OF SKODRA.
Scale 1 : 1,590,000.]
Seen from an immense height, Montenegro resembles a vast honeycomb with
thousands of cells, and this appearance is due to aqueous agencies.
The water at one spot has scooped out wide valleys, whilst elsewhere
its long-continued action has merely succeeded in producing narrow
_rudinas_, or sink-holes. After heavy rains the waters accumulate
into lakes, covering fields and pastures, but ordinarily they run off
rapidly through sink-holes concealed by brambles, only to reappear
again near the seashore as abundant springs of bluish water. The
Zeta, the principal river of Montenegro, is fed by rivulets which are
swallowed up in the valley of {181} Niksich to the north, and find
their way to it through subterranean channels. Similar phenomena have
already been noticed in connection with Bosnia (p. 127). The capital
of Montenegro, Tsetinye (Cetinje), lies in the very midst of the
mountains, in the centre of an ancient lake basin. Formerly it was
accessible only by a most difficult mountain path, for the Montenegrins
took care not to construct roads, which would open their country to
the guns of their enemies. The requirements of commerce, however, have
recently induced them to connect it with Cattaro by means of a carriage
road.
The Montenegrins are the kinsmen of the Servians of the Danube, but
their life of almost incessant warfare, the elevation and sterility of
their country, as well as the vicinity of the Albanians, have developed
special features amongst them. The quiet life of the plains is unknown
to the Montenegrin; he is violent, and ready at all times to take up
arms; in his belt he carries a whole arsenal of pistols and knives, and
even when working in the fields he has a carbine by his side. Until
recently the price of blood was still enacted, and a scratch even had
to be paid for. This blood vengeance was transmitted from generation to
generation, until the number of victims was equal on both sides, or a
monetary compensation, usually fixed at ten sequins, had been accepted.
Cases of hereditary vengeance are rare now, but the ancient “custom”
could be suppressed only by a law of terrible severity, which punishes
murderers, traitors, rebels, thieves twice convicted, incendiaries, and
scoffers at religion alike with death. Compared with the Servian of the
Danube, the Montenegrin is a barbarian. Nor is his personal appearance
equally prepossessing. The women, however, have regular features,
and, though less dignified in their carriage than their kinswomen of
Servia, they possess, as a rule, more grace and elasticity of movement.
They are very prolific, and if a family increases too rapidly it is
customary for a friend to adopt one or more of the children.
Up to the invasion of the Osmanli the upper valleys of Montenegro
were the home merely of herdsmen and brigands. But the inhabitants
of the lower valleys were forced to retire to these austere heights
in order to escape slavery. They cultivated the soil, bred cattle
and sheep, and sometimes robbed their neighbours. But the sterile
soil yielded only a scanty harvest, and famines were by no means
unfrequent. Bosnian Uskoches, who fled to the mountains in order to
escape Mussulman oppression, only added to the misery by reducing to
a minimum the share of cultivable soil which fell to the lot of each
family. The pastures are still held in common, in accordance with
the ancient customs of the Servians. According to a recent census,
Montenegro is said to have a population of nearly 200,000 souls. This
may be an exaggeration, but the country is not even able to support
120,000 inhabitants without drawing supplies from beyond, and the armed
incursions into neighbouring districts might thus be excused as an
“economical necessity.” Death from hunger or on the field of battle was
often the only alternative. The Montenegrin always prefers the latter,
for he does not fear death, and “May you never die in bed !” is a wish
universally expressed at the cradle of a new-born infant. If a man
is unfortunate enough to die of disease, {182} or from old age, his
friends excuse him euphemistically by charging the “Old Murderer” with
his death.
The warlike incursions of former days have ceased now, for the
boundaries of Montenegro have been defined by an international
commission, and the mountaineers have established friendly relations
with their neighbours, from whom they are able now to purchase what
they require. In summer they permit the inhabitants of the coast to
take their cattle into the hills, whilst in winter they themselves
descend to the seaboard, where they are sure now of a friendly
reception.
The Montenegrins have always been anxious to possess a port on the
Adriatic, which would enable them to import freely, and without the
intervention of the merchants of Cattaro, the powder, salt, and other
articles they require, and to export their own produce. Their commerce,
even now, is of some importance. They export smoked mutton, sheep and
goats, skins, tallow, salt fish, cheese, honey, sumach, insect powder,
&c., of an estimated value of £40,000 annually.
The Montenegrins, like their neighbours the Albanians, frequently leave
their country for a time in order to seek work in the great cities of
the East. Thousands of them are to be met in Constantinople, where they
manage to live on friendly terms with the Turks, their “hereditary
enemies.” They are even to be found in Egypt.
The Tsigani are the only strangers met with in the country. They
resemble the Servians in language, dress, religion, and customs, and
only differ from them by working at a useful trade, that of smiths.
Their industry, however, causes them to be objects of disdain, and they
are not permitted to intermarry with Servians.
The government of Montenegro is a curious mixture of democratic,
feudal, and despotic institutions. The citizens fancy that they are
equals, but they are not, for certain families exercise a powerful
influence. The sovereign, who appropriates about half the revenue
of the country, and receives 8,000 ducats annually from Russia in
addition, appoints the members of the Senate, or _Sovyet_. The
_Skupshtina_ includes the _glavars_, or chiefs, of the thirty-nine
tribes (_plemena_), but has hitherto limited itself to applauding the
“speech from the throne.” There is a body-guard of a hundred men, and
the whole of the male population is bound to take the field under the
leadership of Serdars. The country is divided into eight _nahiés_,
or districts, of which four (Bielopavlichka, Uskochka, Morachka, and
Vasoyevichka, with the country of the Kuchi), constitute the Berda,
and four (Katunska, Liesanska, Riechka, and Tsermnichka) belong to
Montenegro proper. Each of these districts is placed under a _kniaz_.
The families and associations of families (_brastvos_) are governed
by _hospodars_ and _starshinas_, dependent upon the tribal chiefs, or
_glavars_.
[Illustration: ITALY]
{183}
[Illustration]
ITALY.[59]
I.—GENERAL ASPECTS.
The limits of the Italian peninsula have been most distinctly traced by
nature. The Alps, which bound it in the north, from the promontories of
Liguria to the mountainous peninsula of Istria, present themselves like
a huge wall, the only breaches in which are formed by passes situated
high up in the zones of pines, pastures, or eternal snows. Italy, like
its two sister peninsulas of Southern Europe, thus constitutes a world
of its own, destined by nature to become the theatre of a special
evolution of humanity. Its delightful climate, beauteous skies, and
fertile fields distinguish it in a marked manner from the countries
lying beyond the Alps; and an inhabitant of the latter who descends the
sunny southern slope of this dividing range cannot fail to perceive
that everything around him has changed, and that he has entered a “new
world.”