While Tommaseo foresaw this union, his contemporaries of the Omladina
strove for another one. Prince Michael Obrenovi['c] had, in 1860,
again succeeded his father, and as it was not known if he had
undergone a change in exile, the young patriots of the Omladina did
not look upon him as the saviour of the Serbian people. There was
again a poet on the throne of Montenegro, a youth of whom they heard
romantic things. Not only had Prince Nicholas borne arms against the
Turk, but he had sung in moving verse the glory of the Serbian
heritage, the triumphant union of the Serbs that was to be. Since 1860
he had guided Montenegro's destinies--his uncle, the first purely
temporal ruler, Danilo, having been assassinated in the Bocche di
Cattaro after a reign of warfare against the Turk, and his own
subjects, who resented the deposition of the tribal chiefs, the
imposition of terrific taxes, based on the number of cattle they
possessed, and occasional seduction of their wives. The Omladina knew
that Michael had been visiting the West, that he had frequented the
masters of science and politics in London, Paris and Berlin; but he
would probably forget their precepts and in any case he was much
duller than the splendid youth whom they affectionately called
Nikita.... Some historians have wondered why this young man did not
alienate the affection of his people by the slaughter of the Kadi['c]
clan, whereof a member had assassinated Prince Danilo. But it was the
Senate which punished the murderer by exiling him, with seven families
of his kindred, to Turkey. Danilo had been aware of his intention,
while the man was waiting--in obedience to Austria's orders--at Kotor.
And the Prince, acting on a local custom, sent word that if Kadi['c]
did not return to Montenegro he would bestow Mrs. Kadi['c] on some one
else. After two weeks she became the wife of a neighbour. The story
that Kadi['c] was avenging her seduction is an Austrian invention, for
Danilo seems never to have met her.
One day in 1862 the Turks, who still were in the Belgrade fortress,
started, for some foolish reason, to bombard the town. Prince Michael
in the subsequent negotiations showed that he had qualities one could
not but respect. Still he was unsuccessful (until 1867) in obtaining
the removal of the Turkish garrisons--Great Britain, fearing Russian
influence, and Austria, hostile to the total independence of the
Serbs, supported Turkey. And Michael governed with so firm a hand that
there were many who believed that the material improvement he was
introducing, schools of agriculture, schools of forestry and what not,
could be just as well inaugurated by the far more sympathetic Prince
Nikita. And when in 1866 Michael and Nikita made a grand convention
for the union of the Serbs in Serbia and in Montenegro, and Nikita
undertook to step aside, if necessary, so that all the independent
Serbs might be united under Michael's sceptre, then indeed the
Omladina talked of him with rapture. And Nikita made allusions to this
"grand refusal" all his life and with a face of honest pride. He
never mentioned anything about clause 3, which was not published. By
that clause Nikita was to be Prince Michael's heir, in case he had no
son. There was not much likelihood that he would have one, for the
Hungarian wife from whom he was divorced[46] had given him no
children, and the girl with whom he was overpoweringly in love was a
cousin, whom the Church, because of their relationship, prevented him
from marrying. It was with this girl that the Prince was always said
to have been walking in the park near Belgrade on June 10, 1868, when
he was mysteriously murdered.[47] After Michael's death the
Skup[vs]tina, not acting in accordance with the secret clause, placed
on the throne a grandson (?) of a brother of Prince Milo[vs], who was
a minor and the nearest in the order of succession. By this time the
_Omladina_ had perceived that in the character of their romantic
prince lay certain lamentable traits. The friendship, which he had
inherited, with Russia he continued, and the Russian Court rewarded
him in no half-hearted fashion. When the Italians proposed in 1866
that he and they should share the Bocche di Cattaro, he said the
moment was not opportune; the Austrians for this bestowed on him a
pension which they paid until the outbreak of the World War. One could
understand, of course, that Nikita did not wish to rouse the enmity of
Austria; it must have hurt him to refrain from going to the Bocche,
where the population was most Slav and had endured a great deal for
the cause, but other men were hurt by his acceptance of the pension.