MONTENEGRIN TRADERS—LE SCALE DI CATTARO—A GORGEOUSLY-ATTIRED MONK—OUR CARAVAN—MONTENEGRINS OF THE PRINCE'S BODY-GUARD—INTERESTING VIEW—ABSENCE OF TREES ON THE DALMATIAN COAST—A HOME FOR GERMAN EMIGRANTS—TURKISH MISRULE IN EUROPE—A FUTURE EMPIRE—A MAN FIT TO RULE.
AT the earliest peep of day on the morning of the 9th of July, I arose from the deck of the steamer on which I had slept for so many pleasant nights, notwithstanding its hardness. Thanks to the kind attention of Giovanni, the steward, a cup of hot and tolerably good coffee was not wanting to fortify me against the effects of the morning air. He wanted me to add a small glassof maraschino unsweetened "per scacciar l'aria cattiva," as he said in his Venetian dialect, but not being addicted topegs, I contented myself with the coffee and a few biscuits.
The faintest tinge of rose showing in the East over the rocks which hang over Cattaro, seeming ever to threaten it with instant ruin, barely enabled me at first to distinguish objects on the mole alongside of which our steamer was moored; but as the light increased I could make out, under the shadow of the trees which form the boulevard and public promenade of the Bocchesi, the stalwart figures of a dozen Montenegrins who had come down from Cettigne to accompany the Russian Consul on his way to the festival of St. Peter, and the court of the illustrious Prince who now so wisely rules those splendid mountain tribes.
Modestly drawn up on one side of them I could see my own portion of the caravan, consisting of only two horses, one to carry myself, the other to carry my luggage, all under the direction of the excellent guide provided for me the day before by the kindness of Signor Jackschich.
Everything was now ready and myself in thesaddle, when the Russian Consul made his appearance, and we finally started just as the dawn was quickening into day.
Skirting by the bastions which defend Cattaro on the sea side, we crossed the bridge that spans the little mountain torrent which here empties itself into the sea, and turning sharply to the right we passed through the open market-place where the Montenegrins come down to sell their farm-produce to the Bocchesi; but who, owing to the somewhat evil name they have unfairly acquired, are never allowed to penetrate into the city unless they first deliver up their arms at the military post outside, just as we do at Aden with the Arabs of the surrounding districts.
Having crossed the market-place, we reached in a few minutes the base of the rocks, and at once commenced ascending that wonderful road zig-zagged across the face of the mountain, and known by the name of "Le scale di Cattaro." Here we joined an additional party, also journeying to Cettigne for the festival of St. Peter, and among them was conspicuous the handsome Montenegrin Chieftain, Pero Pejovich, commandant of theGrahovo, whose pleasant acquaintance we had made the evening before under the mulberry trees of Cattaro.
There was also in the same group a monk, a most picturesque looking individual, but certainly most unclerical-looking. He was dressed in a costume very much resembling the Montenegrin fashion, only of sombre colours, and had his jerkin trimmed with furs instead of embroideries. He wore on his head a sort of black fez, from under which his sable curls fell hanging on his neck, while his full beard, innocent of trimming, flowed amply on his chest. His face was handsome and swarthy, and had a not unkind expression. In figure he was slight, and of medium height. He came from a monastery in the Herzegovina, a province of Turkey in Europe lying co-terminous to Montenegro on its Northern border, and which, strange enough, comes down at one point to the very sea at the opening of the Fjord of Cattaro, thus thrusting itself into and dividing the Austrian sea-board of Dalmatia into two.
What was he coming to Montenegro for? Simply to be inducted abbot of his own monastery, whichceremony by right should have been performed by the Greek Patriarch at Constantinople; but although Herzegovina is subject to the Sultan, yet all the Christian mountaineers of that region, though not Montenegrins by blood, are Montenegrins at heart, and all look to the Metropolitan at Cettigne as their spiritual head, while to the Prince they look up as the only sovereign to whom they owe absolute allegiance.
The abbot elect rode a beautiful, small greyentero, wonderfully quick and sure-footed, caparisoned with gorgeous trappings, consisting of a large blue saddle-cloth embroidered with gold, over which lay an immense saddle of crimson velvet studded with large gilt-headed nails. The bridle was of the same Oriental style, while the bit was something to be looked at, both as regards size, ornament and power.
The Abbot sat hisentero, as if riding at the head of a party of Baschi-Bazouks would be quite as much, if not more to his liking, than leading the chaunts at matins and vespers in his own monastery. There was nothing fierce about his countenance, but there was a sort of "stand anddeliver" look about his whole get up, that would have made one feel somewhat anxious had one chanced to meet hima quattr'occhiin some lonely pass.
Our caravan consisted in all of about twenty-five persons, as we had been joined by several parties all bent on the same excursion, to partake of the rejoicings at Cettigne. First marched four Montenegrins of the Prince's body-guard, splendid specimens of their race, the shortest over six feet high, with rich ruddy complexions, deeply bronzed by exposure in all weathers, with dark grey or blue eyes, dark brown, almost black hair, cut short, close shaved beard and large moustachios, and fine, open, manly countenances. They wore the national costume of the country, namely, loose baggy blue trousers, made very full and confined under the knee by a strap, below that, their legs were encased in tight-fitting white woollen gaiters, fastened by a row of close-set small metallic buttons all along the back, from the heel to below the knee, while on their feet they wore a peculiar pointed shoe of undressed leather, the upper of which is contrived of numberlesssmall thongs plaited up the middle over the instep, which afford wonderful pliancy and power of grasping to the feet, and are quite characteristic of this region; a sleeveless crimson jacket, and over all the well-known long surtout of fine white cloth, without a collar, fastened round the waist by an enormous silken scarf as much as eighteen feet long, and which supported in front a perfect armoury of weapons. First a yataghan three feet long with richly ornamented sheath and handle, then two highly ornamented Turkish pistols nearly as long, then a poniard, and lastly a special pair of tongs for lifting fire into their smoking pipes, which, excepting when on duty, were never out of their mouths. But as if such an armoury were insufficient, they carried at their sides a formidable-looking, highly curved Turkish sabre, and over their shoulder a long, rakish, Albanian-looking, breech-loading gun. This last they were ever shifting in position, although the favourite mode of carrying it seemed to be across the shoulders, something like the way young ladies at properly conducted schools are made to shouldertheir backboards, with their hands hanging over the stock and barrel.
We all followed pell-mell, sometimes in single file, sometimes by twos, according as the inequality of the path or its width, either prevented or admitted of it, while the remainder of the guard brought up the rear. So up we climbed, zigzag after zigzag, some of us above and some of us below until we reach the top of thescalawhere Austrian territory ceases and Montenegro begins.
The sun was now well up above the Eastern horizon, when the sudden cessation of the road gave us notice of our change of territory, and looking round towards the Adriatic to which we mostly had been turning our backs during the ascent, we saw a view that I don't know which would be most difficult, whether to sketch or to describe.
I think we must have been at least three thousand feet above the sea. At any rate, owing to the steepness of the rocks on which we stood, together with the clearness of the atmosphere, the city of Cattaro seemed perpendicularlybeneath us, while the coast of Dalmatia, the entire canal of Cattaro with all its windings and the many towns scattered on its coast, the forts at its mouth, and the blue Adriatic beyond, seemed laid out like a map at our feet.
The path, up which we had been toiling ever since we left the town, lay in zigzags before us like a white ribbon stretched out upon the face of the precipice. It reminded me somewhat of the pass of the Gemmi in Switzerland, but was far more beautiful, while the bird's-eye view of the town, with its fortress and its fortifications, was most novel and astonishing. Perched as we were almost perpendicularly over Cattaro, and thus looking right down over their heads, we could see its inhabitants only like black specks moving about its miniature squares and streets, while the old fortress with its crenelated walls and its antiquated bastions, rising out of the bluish haze which hung over the chasm that yawns between the rock on which it is built and the one on which we were standing, made such a picture as Turner would have loved to study.
It was one of the most beautiful and extraordinary sights I ever saw, and only lacked the presence of foliage to make it perfect. But total absence of timber is the characteristic of the entire coast of Dalmatia, a fact much to be regretted not only for the loss it is to the country from a picturesque point of view, but principally from the economical aspect of the question—as well-managed forests would be of immense value both from the timber they would yield, and the increased humidity they would afford to that arid region, where a sufficient rainfall would increase the fertility, and consequently the revenue more than a hundredfold.
If some of the millions which are yearly wasted by the Austrian Government, as well as by others too, in building ironclads and exploding torpedoes, and in many other equally unreproductive undertakings, were spent on the coast of Dalmatia in planting olive trees on the side of those mountains as far up as they could flourish, then walnut trees, then chestnut trees, and finally oaks and firs, I think I can safely assert that in thirty years the full cost of the firstoutlay would be repaid, while the benefit to the country at large would be incalculable.
It is not in a book like this that the best modes for bringing about the cultivation of the Dalmatian shores of the Adriatic are to be discussed, but that it could be done and should be done, is undoubted; and not in Dalmatia alone, but also to the east of that country, in the lands beyond the Vellebitch, through Servia, and all that vast tract of country subject now to the impoverishing influence of Turkish mal-administration.
It always makes me sad when I think of those rich countries lying fallow for want of hands to cultivate them, and a good government to encourage industry, and when I see shipload after shipload of hard-working industrious Germans leaving Hamburg, Bremen, and other German ports, risking the perils, the inconveniences, and the expenses of their voluntary exile, traversing thousands of miles of ocean route to reach at last an unknown country, from which it is doubtful if they will ever have a chance of returning to their Fatherland; when those fertile lands of Servia lie at the very threshold of theircountry, with no sea to intervene, and only a few days of rail and river to go over. But the present state of things cannot continue for ever; and even now promising signs of amendment are not wanting. The monstrous anomaly of some of the richest lands of Christian Europe being still in this nineteenth century under the misrule of barbarous Asiatic hordes, whilst millions of wretched Christian inhabitants are kept in the most abject servitude, must ere long be done away with; and all those countries, Servia, Bosnia, Herzegovina, Roumelia, and all lying between the Danube and the Adriatic must before very long be amalgamated under some one chief. Who the man may be upon whom the noble responsibility may fall of governing this future empire, it is impossible now to conjecture, for the several countries which would go to form this new dominion are still scattered and disorganized; but the great bond of a common language will soon unite them again, when the time comes, and probably that is not distant, for now we do in weeks what our forefathers did in centuries. When that moment shall come, I venture to hope, in the interest of this new country, that onetotally unconnected with the present contending clans may assume the direction of affairs.
I know the man but I shall not name him. Handsome in person, brave, courteous, highly educated, and unsullied by any of those Eastern vices which so frequently shock our Western susceptibilities—equally unconnected with either the Kara Georgevich or the Obrenovich parties—his elevation to the throne of Servia would put a stop to that system of hereditary vendetta which seems for the present too deeply rooted in both those clans to permit us to hope in its extinction at least for a time, while it would extend to those countries the benefits of that wise administration which he has already so ably initiated in his own country. But I must pull up my hobby-horse sharp; he is already in full gallop, and if he once gets the bit between his teeth, he will never check his mad career till he stops at the gates of Stamboul.
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, andpolitical 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 tryingthan 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 weighmorebut 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 plaincould 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 lengthreached 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 formedlooked 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 forthe 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 insignificantwhen 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 Ipreviously 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 aPensionnat de demoisellesfor 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 majorityspoke 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 andjust 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.
INSECT POWDER OF MONTENEGRO—DESCRIPTION OF THE MONASTERY—ENCAMPMENTS—FESTIVAL OF ST. PETER—A SAINT BY THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE—PICTURESQUE SCENE—BOSNIAN CAFÉ—THE NATIONAL INSTRUMENT—A TRAVELLED DALMATIAN—TALL MONTENEGRINS.
I AWOKE early the next morning, having slept most luxuriously on a spring mattress and totally unmolested by fleas, thanks to the ample supply of flea-powder thoughtfully strewn by my attendant, between the mattress and the undersheet.
The insect powder of Montenegro is celebrated, you must know, in Eastern and Southern Europe,and I can vouch for its excellence. It consists simply in the small dried flower of some species of Pyrethrum, which when wanted for use is ground in a coffee-mill and strewed about the bed. The plant is found abundantly all over Montenegro, and owes its greater virtue to the fact of being grown in very arid soil, untempered by the slightest moisture, and exposed to scorching suns—everything about it therefore is in the most concentrated form, and hence its efficacy; it is a very considerable article of commerce, and is largely exported to Russia and the Levant.
It was not therefore due to insect attacks that I was so early disturbed from my slumbers on the following morning; still I was disturbed, and that by the momentarily increasing hum of many voices and general bustle of the thousands who were flocking to Cettigne for the festival which was to take place on the morrow; but the great day of the feast throughout the south of Europe is invariably the day before the feast, "la vigilia del Santo," as the wording goes. The day of the feast itself one confesses, goes to mass, and does the proper; all the fun and the rollickingis generally the day before. So I got up, and pushing open the outside green shutters which secured my windows, I looked into the courtyard of the Palace, and over the walls beyond into the little plain, which was gradually filling with numberless men, women, and children, some on horseback, more on foot, but all gorgeously attired.
The sun was now getting high on the horizon, and the scene before me was becoming more and more animated and interesting. In the open space under my window, within the high enclosure of the Palace wall, men were busy picketing a dozen horses, evidently from the costliness of their trappings belonging to Chiefs and Woyvodes. While under a group of carob trees, in one corner of the enclosure, were spread several rugs on which were sitting cross-legged some of the owners of those quadrupeds, with their clumsy high-backed saddles behind them, passively smoking their chibouks while their attendants busied themselves preparing coffee.
Close on my right and just beyond the old Palace was the monastery, which, owing to the lateness of the hour the evening before, I had been unable toexamine. Like the old Palace it is a sort of semi-fortified building, constructed more for safety than for comfort. On the right hand, as the observer looks at it in front, is the church, and next to it a tall, square, and very modern tower erected to the memory of the Vladika Peter, who is buried on the top of a somewhat difficult peak to the south-west of Cettigne and about six miles distant. The body of the monastery comes next, conspicuous by two rows of arched openings placed one over the other, and to the left of them again are the apartments of the Metropolitan. The whole is surrounded by a high wall, enclosing a primitive garden in which are located a large number of beehives, (upwards of a hundred). This wall is pierced by one large gateway, roofed over and secured by a massive door, in front of which is the circular-paved thrashing floor, so characteristic of the East. Every thing about the monastery is of the simplest and rudest construction, and the church is utterly unadorned, not from choice, I am assured, but from necessity.
In the monastery itself are many shady corners that would well repay a few hours spent in transferringthem to one's portfolio, and just at the entrance inside the building, is a most extraordinary chasm in the rock, through which a piercing cold wind is constantly blowing, coldest when the weather is hottest; and so intense is the cold in that opening that it is used in Summer as an ice-house for the cooling of wine and the preserving of food. This phenomenon has never been satisfactorily explained, because it is not only that the cavity is cold, but a strong sharp cutting wind rushes out of it. I shall not attempt to account for it, but will leave it as a problem for sharper wits than mine to solve.
As the day waxed older the number of arrivals increased on the plain of Cettigne, till by eight o'clock in the morning it was dotted all over with picketed horses and temporary encampments of all sorts. Having had my simple breakfast of coffee, milk, and toast without butter—which is quite unknown there though cream is plentiful—but accompanied by a good plate of Albanian figs, I went out with Pero Pejovich, who came to fetch me to visit the fair. For this festival of St. Peter offers a double stimulus to the inhabitants of thesurrounding country for a visit to Cettigne—a religious ceremony and a considerable fair. And it may be right for me to observe that this St. Peter, Patron of Montenegro, in whose honour this great gathering annually takes place, is a saintsui generis—indeed I was on the point of saying, when I detected and checked myself, that he was a saintextra palum ecclesiæ; for he is neither St. Peter the Apostle, nor St. Peter the Martyr, nor St. Peter the Hermit, nor even St. Peter Igneus, who in a fit of zeal for the maintenance of the laws relating to the temporalities of the church, walked through the flames at Settimo in the eleventh century, to establish a case of simony against another Peter, one Peter of Pavia, then Bishop of Florence; nor any other canonical St. Peter I ever heard of, but simply St. Peter of Montenegro, the old Vladika Peter I., Prince-Bishop of Montenegro, not yet canonized by any ecclesiastical authority or other licensing body, as I was assured, but simply a saint in virtue of the will of the people, the Plebiscite of Montenegro, who insistedautoritate nostraon having him for their patron saint. He probably deserved to be canonized just aswell, and perhaps better than many another saint, and if history tells truth, certainly better than his namesake, the so-called Peter the Martyr, for he wisely, mildly, and virtuously ruled in Montenegro for fifty-three years, viz., from 1777 to 1830, and the mountaineers are fully justified in reverencing his memory.
Passing my arm through that of Pero Pejovich, who seemed to know and be known of everyone, I began my expedition through a crowd of men, women and children, that every moment grew denser and denser. It was the most picturesque scene that could be imagined; all the neighbouring and surrounding countries had sent their contributions to the fair—Bosnians, Servians, Herzegovinians, Morlacks, Dalmatians, Albanians, Roumelians, Turks, Greeks, Croats, Italians, &c.; but conspicuous among them all for height of stature and nobility of countenance were the Montenegrins themselves. I think that, even independent of their costume, I could have always singled them out by their ruddy though sunburnt complexions, grey or blue eyes, and open honest countenances.
We went to a booth where arms were sold, and I was astounded at the number, variety, and richness of the weapons that were not only displayed, but were actually sold. They seemed to me dear. I should have much liked to purchase a handsome yataghan with silver hilt and in a sheath ofrepoussésilver. It was a very handsome weapon, and was made by a celebrated artificer of Skodra, but the price was sixteen Napoleons, which was more than I liked to give, and I suspect I could get one just like it in Tichborne Street for half the money.
From the armourer we went to a tailor's booth, where piles of costumes of different nationalities were exposed for sale; Morlack suits, Albanian suits, and Montenegrin suits, some of cloth and some of velvet, but all more or less embroidered in gold, and some literally overladen with plates of silver gilt. From thence we went to a Bosniancaféof the most primitive kind; a couple of large blankets stretched over a few poles made a pretence of shelter, and on the ground were a few Turkish rugs on which we squatted, while a very ugly and dirty gipsy-looking woman wasboiling coffee outside over a small fire of sticks contrived between two stones; nothing could be more primitive. So we sat and smoked, and in due time drank our coffee, which was simply abominable. I remember it was, though I was not minding it much, being occupied at the time with listening to a man performing on the national instrument, theguzla(pronounced goozla), whilst a girl was singing a low, monotonous, plaintive air.
Theguzlais not an instrument which offers much scope to the performer; it is simply a very primitive fiddle, with only one string, played upon with an equally primitive bow; still it was surprising the amount of harmony the man contrived to scrape out of it. The song, as Pero Pejovich told me, was all about the old story, love and war, while the music, as is almost always the case among barbarous nations, was in a minor key.
Having paid for our coffee and thrown a few paràs to the minstrels, we sallied forth again.
"And now, friend Pero," I said, "I shouldlike to see some of your Montenegrin beauties. I have seen lots of fine men this morning; but as to the women, friend Pero, they are a caution. I never saw so many ugly ones congregated together."
My conductor smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and looked me in the face; he did not know exactly whether he ought not to be angry. However, his habitual good-humour prevailed, and with a loud laugh, he said:
"Avete ragione, son brutte come il Demonio.But wait, only wait till you see the Princess; she is a pure Montenegrina, and beautiful enough for the whole nation." And he spoke truth!
We now wandered away again towards a sort of native inn or khan, where he said we should get some good Vienna beer to wash away the taste of that abominable coffee. As we were passing some booths, where a variety of cheap Manchester goods were being displayed with some English Delft ware of the very commonest description, I was hailed with a "How d'ye do, stranger?" from a dapper, wide-awake-looking little man, who came out and spoke such excellent English that I tookhim to be a Briton or an American; but he was neither; he was a Dalmatian from Sebenico, who had been a great deal in England and America, and spoke English as fluently as his native Illyrian. I had a long chat with him, and asked him how trade was, and if he was doing well.
"No," he replied; "they don't know what trade is in these countries, they have too many restrictions; and yet," said he, "you won't go into the poorest cabin that you won't find one of these," handing me a wretched sample of English pottery with a vile brown pattern on it; "such is their preference for everything of English make."
Here Pero reminded me of the beer we had to drink, and that the time was drawing near when I was to present myself at the Palace for my audience. So we went off to the khan, where, having refreshed ourselves with some of Vienna's best, with a lump of virgin snow in it, I bid my guide good morning, and returned to the old Palace; when, having dressed myself, I crossed over to the new one to pay my respects to the Prince according to the orders received the day before.
Having penetrated through the outer gate, wherethe guards, I thought, looked rather scowlingly on my strange attire—viz., a dark blue frock coat, light grey trousers, and patent leather boots, the whole topped with my Indian quilted helmet—I ascended to the hall door by half a dozen steps, where I was met by the Prince's own henchman, a brother of the Commandant of the Grahovo. He was yet taller than his brother, and must have been at least six feet eight inches. I do not say this quite by guess-work, though I did not actually measure him; but on a subsequent occasion I did measure an immense Montenegrin, and found him six feet seven inches without heels, and the henchman was decidedly taller than he.
Well,pour revenir à nos moutons, I followed my Goliath into the hall, which is small and low, terminating in a double staircase, that bending round from each side joins again in the middle to form but one flight, at the top of which I found myself in a vestibule with two more guards on duty, and from that I was ushered into a fine large and well proportioned room, handsomely furnished in Viennese style, and hung all round with good portraits of the Prince's father, the celebratedMirko, the Emperor and Empress of Russia, the Emperor and Empress of Austria, and many others.
Rooms open right and left off this. I was conducted into a smaller room to the right, where, after waiting for only a few seconds, the Prince came in. He addressed me in French, congratulating me on my courage for having ventured so far into his country, not on account of the difficulty of the road, "for all English are good mountaineers," but from the bad name the country has in Europe.
"Don't you know," said he, laughing, "que nous sommes des ogres, et que nous mangeons les enfans; however, you shall try how we cook them if you will dine here to-night at eight."
I thanked His Highness for his kindness, adding that I had never heard of their cannibal propensities, but in any case I should be happy to eat anything His Highness also would eat, and making my bow backed out of the saloon.
I then left my card for the Russian Consul, who was staying at the Palace, and afterwards went to pay the same compliment to Mr. Nico Matanovich, aide-de-campto the Prince; after which I returned to my quarters, to convert into a luncheon the repast which otherwise would have served for a dinner, but for the hospitality of His Highness.