The Land of the Black Mountain Part 3

At four o'clock on the following morning we made a start, and were well up the mountain by the time that the sun began to make his presence felt.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BOCCHE DI CATTARO]

The high road to Cetinje was built by the Austrians, and it is a marvel of engineering skill, particularly the ascent of the almost perpendicular wall of mountain rising abruptly from Cattaro. In series of serpentines and gradients, which often permit the horses to trot, the road winds up and up, every turn giving a still finer view of the lake below. Cattaro remains in view practically the whole ascent. The view from the top is magnificent and unsurpa.s.sed in Europe. The grand bays look like miniature gla.s.s ponds, fringed with white toy villages, and far away in the distance the deep blue Adria sparkles and glitters in the suns.h.i.+ne.

Montenegro is entered some little distance from the top, but, as only a row of paving stones indicates the spot, it is not till the carriage dashes through a rocky gorge and out into the open Karst beyond that the traveller realises that he has crossed the border. The sudden change is startling, from the blue sea and green valleys to grey ma.s.ses of limestone rock and barren mountains. It is the Katunska, the original stronghold of the Montenegrins, within which they defied all comers.

At the first house, solidly built of stone, our carriage halted, and the driver entered it, emerging with the revolver which he had to relinquish on entering Austria. It is a formidable weapon specially manufactured in Vienna for Montenegro, a foot and a half long, firing an enormous cartridge. The revolver is always worn, by all cla.s.ses alike, and carried loaded by order. The upper cla.s.ses carry a much smaller and handier weapon, but a revolver must be carried by prince and peasant alike.

Njegui is the first town or village reached, and here an hour's rest is always made. It is interesting, since it was once the temporary capital, and as the home of the Petrovic family, the reigning dynasty.

It lies in a great hollow of fertile ground, and on the southern side the historical Lovcen ascends. On the top the great prince and hero, Peter II., is buried, and his mausoleum brings large numbers of pilgrims yearly.

As our carriage drew up before the little hostelry, a crowd of boys were standing in front of a house opposite, which is half telegraph office and half school, for economy in buildings is practised in Montenegro. They saluted us smartly in military fas.h.i.+on. The born soldier is noticed at once, even in the small children; many generations of fighting ancestors have bequeathed a smartness and accuracy of movement which can be envied by many a Continental trained conscript.

The traveller meets with little attention either here or in Cetinje.

It is not till he gets well off the beaten track that he sees the hospitable and courteous Montenegrin as he really is.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NJEGUI]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GUSLAR]

During our frugal breakfast of raw ham and goat's cheese, our ears were a.s.sailed by the singing of the guslar, or Montenegrin troubadour. The guslars, we noticed, are invariably blind, and as no previous musical education seems necessary, it would appear to be a monopoly of those so afflicted. Their singing is execrable according to Western notions, a range of four or five notes in a wailing minor key making up their register, and they accompany themselves on an instrument (the gusla) from which they derive their name. It is hand-made, resembling a cross between a violin and a mandolin. It possesses one string, and is played with a short curved bow. With careful handling, a series of discordant notes of wearying monotony can be produced. The performance is altogether most doleful.

Yet they are the history books, the legend tellers of the country.

They fan the fire of patriotism and loyalty by songs of the deeds and accomplishments of their Prince, of dead heroes and past glorious battles, and form another link with the mediaeval world of which the traveller is so strongly reminded at every step in Montenegro.

As we left the village we pa.s.sed the birthplace of Prince Nicolas I., though the palace appears to have been entirely rebuilt. In nearly every town or village of importance the Prince has a house, varying considerably in size, but of equally unpretentious exterior.

The road still climbs and reaches the maximum height of three thousand five hundred feet. From this alt.i.tude it steadily drops into Cetinje, which lies about two thousand feet above the sea-level. The scenery is unvarying, but not without beauty. It is essentially wild, but the light colour of the rocks and the numerous shrubs which find a footing in the crevices minimise the forbidding character of the country. The land is magnificently adapted for guerilla warfare, where every foot can be contested. Little patches of earth, washed down the hillsides, lie in every hollow, and have been utilised by the careful peasant to grow his tiny crops.

After about seven hours' driving, Cetinje appears in sight, at the end of a long valley, and completely surrounded by the characteristic naked and rugged rocks. The road descends by another series of serpentines, and a long straight drive brings us into the town. The valley is about four miles long and three-quarters of a mile broad and absolutely flat.

The effect is most odd at first sight, a long main street, an open market-place, and a few side streets const.i.tuting the capital of an important European princ.i.p.ality. The town, on entering it, bears a strong resemblance to a South African towns.h.i.+p, where, as is the case here, s.p.a.ce is no object, and the houses are rarely more than one story high.

We stayed at the Grand Hotel during our first visit. It is the only really good hotel in Montenegro, and in consequence expensive. Here all the tourists stay for a night or so during a hasty visit to the Crnagora, and it is to be avoided by those who wish to see the country.

CHAPTER IV

Cetinje and its sights--Prince Nicolas--The Archbishop--The barracks--The princes--A visit to the prison and its system--Our departure for Podgorica.

There is not much for the tourist to see in Cetinje; a day is quite sufficient to do the sights, such as they are.

Unfortunately for the country, the tourist usually contents himself with a look round the little capital and returns the way he came to Cattaro, only a few prolonging the tour _via_ Rijeka to Scutari. Thus a very erroneous impression is gained of Montenegro and its people.

Firstly only a small part of the Katunska is seen, which is the most uninteresting district of the whole country; and, secondly, no idea of the st.u.r.dy inhabitants can be formed from the handful of more or less well-to-do officials and merchants, all intimately connected with the outside world, round the proximity of Cattaro.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MONTENEGRIN INFANTRY]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE VLADIKA AT THE MONASTERY OF IVAN BEG]

Cetinje, with its four thousand inhabitants, is simply the residence of the Montenegrin Court, it is not even a trading centre, which the absence of the Turkish element sufficiently proclaims. It is only the question of expense which has. .h.i.therto prevented the transference of the capital to another site, viz. Nikic. Cetinje was chosen as the capital some hundreds of years ago--1484, to be pedantically correct--when a defensible position was the most important factor, which even to-day is a point to be reckoned with.

We will first go round "the sights."

It possesses two historical buildings in the monastery and the Billard, the rest being all of quite modern origin. The monastery is a picturesque pile of grey stone, nestling under a lofty rock, on which is perched the identical round tower, or "kula," to give it its local name, on which the heads of Turks slain in battle were exhibited on spikes. It was not so very long ago that the last grim trophies of war graced its battlements. The monastery contains the burying vault of the reigning house, and is the residence of the Vladika or Archbishop of Montenegro. Prince Nicolas can be found any morning wors.h.i.+pping at the tombs of his ancestors by the visitor who is willing to rise at daybreak. Very often he is the only "faithful" present with the officiating priest at an hour when the sun has hardly peeped over the rocky ramparts of the town.

Prince Nicolas, the lord of this warrior nation, is a man of imposing stature, so broad-shouldered that his height seems far less than it really is, walking with head erect and firm tread and clad in the rich national costume. The stranger involuntarily doffs his cap and receives in return a short military salute, but accompanied by such a piercing glance from a pair of cold grey eyes that he wonders if he is not an intruder in the land. This is, however, far from the case.

Under that austere exterior beats a warm heart and an affability of manner to which the lowliest of his peasants will gladly testify.

Prince Nicolas likes to see visitors to his land, and many are the little acts of kindness and courtesy that the traveller receives, all unknown, from his hand, for he knows the coming and going of everyone who makes a longer stay than usual.

Sixty years ago Prince and Bishop were united in one person, and though the Bishop or Vladika has to-day no temporal power, yet in spiritual matters he is absolute. A very kindly man is the present Vladika, Mitrofanban. By an odd coincidence his was practically the first house we visited in Montenegro, and with him we drank our last cup of coffee when we left many months later.

The other building is the old palace of the Princes of Montenegro, which won its odd name of Billard or Biljar from the fact that a former Prince was so addicted to the game of billiards that the princ.i.p.al room of the palace was devoted to the game. It is now used for State purposes. The upper floors are occupied by the Government offices, and at one corner is the Supreme Court of Justice and Appeal, whose judgments are only reversible by the Prince himself.

Further, the school and printing works are to be found within its quaint old red-brick walls and bastions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PRINCE'S PALACE]

Opposite to this picturesque old building stands the modern and uninteresting one-storied palace of Prince Nicolas. It shows the simplicity of his nature in perhaps a more marked degree than anything else, for little or no privacy from his people is possible. He walks from his house down a short flight of steps into the street. The small courtyard at the back is surrounded by a low wall, the entrances having no gates.

The recently erected palace of the Crown Prince Danilo, which stands on the outskirts of the town, is a somewhat more pretentious building.

It has a large garden completely walled in, which is at any rate an apology for privacy and seclusion.

To obtain a comprehensive view of the town, we climbed a small hill immediately above the monastery, on whose summit stands the gilded cupola erected to the memory of Danilo Petrovic, the Lord of Njegui, founder of the present dynasty. Very pretty the simple little town looks from here, its red roofs giving a pleasing touch of colour to the otherwise severe landscape of grey rock, dazzling white streets, and spa.r.s.ely vegetated valley.

One afternoon we visited the barracks, which are quite new, and the quarters of the battalion of the standing army. The barrack rooms are spotlessly clean, and the order and neatness unsurpa.s.sed, which, together with the smart drilling and superb physique of the soldiers, would delight the heart of the severest martinet. Everything connected with the military training of the Montenegrins is up to the standard of Continental excellence. All the officers undergo a long course of training, either in Russia, France, or Italy, and right well have they utilised this privilege. No wonder that the warlike Montenegrin drills as well as his Continental brother. The standing army wear uniforms, and at a distance remind one of our own troops, with their tight-fitting, short red jackets and tiny caps.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Monastery Billard Prince's Palace_ GENERAL VIEW OF THE CETINJE]

Other conspicuous buildings are the theatre, where performances are given in the winter in the Serb language and where Prince Nicolas'

famous drama, _The Empress of the Balkans_, was first performed; the house of the Austro-Hungarian Minister, which is the best in Cetinje,[1] and the hospital. It is the only hospital in Montenegro, and is used almost solely for serious surgical operations. Here Prince Mirko, the second son of Prince Nicolas, spends much of his time, for his tastes run to bacteriology, and his skill with the microscope is acknowledged. He is also a musician of no mean order, and the march which he composed in honour of the city of Rome, and which was performed there under the leaders.h.i.+p of Mascagni, will be in the memory of all. He has none of the tastes of his elder brother, who, true to the traditions of his country, is a mighty hunter, and whose prowess with rifle, gun, and revolver is acclaimed by the people who understand these gifts better.

[Footnote 1: The Russian Minister has now an equally imposing edifice.]

By far the most interesting episode of our sojourn in Cetinje was a visit to the prison, which we were enabled to do with our camera, by the kindness of the Minister of Justice. It was the first time in the annals of Montenegro that strangers had been allowed to take photographs in a prison.

At the appointed hour we approached the plain building, surrounded by no wall of any kind, which does duty as the prison. It is soon to be done away with, and all the prisoners will be transferred to the central prison at Podgorica. Smiling warders welcomed us and conducted us to their living-room, barely furnished and with an array of revolvers--the property of the prisoners--hanging on the walls. A female prisoner prepared us coffee, and while we were sipping the inevitable beverage a glance through the window showed us men busily sweeping the courtyard of the prison.

First of all a warder showed us the fetters--heavy, c.u.mbersome irons, which are riveted to one or both ankles, according to the sentence.

But it is only in exceptional cases of aggravated crime that this severer sentence is meted out to the offender. Then we were conducted by the main and only entrance into the courtyard, two sides of which contain the cells of the prisoners. These gentlemen rose with alacrity to their feet as we entered, evidently much pleased at the honour of our visit. Only three men were chained, and of these one remained moodily seated, staring indifferently on the ground before him. He formed such a contrast to his fellow-prisoners' smiling faces that we observed him closer, noticing that his clothes were such as the officials and better cla.s.s wear.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"A Government clerk convicted of embezzlement," was the answer. "Six weeks in chains is his sentence."

"And what have the other criminals done?" was our next query.