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.