VISIT TO THE VLADIKA OF MONTENEGRO.
The people of the old Illyricum have shown a marvellous consistency of character through all the changes that have affected the other nations of the Roman empire. They exist now as they did of old, a hardy race of borderers, not quite civilised, and not quite barbarous—Christian in fact, and Turkish to a great extent in appearance. Living on the borders of the two empires, they exhibit the national characteristics of each in transitu towards the other. Of all civilised Europe, it is perhaps here only that the practice of carrying arms universally and commonly prevails—a custom which we have very old historical authority for considering as the characteristic mark of unsettled, predatory, and barbarous manners—an opinion which will be abundantly confirmed by a glance at the neighbouring Albanians. Any thing original is possessed of one element of interest, especially when it has been so sturdily preserved; and sturdy, indeed, have the Illyrians been. In spite of the polished condition of the empire of which they form a constituent part, and of the constant steamers up and down the Adriatic promoting intercourse with the world, they remain much as they used to be, and so do they seem likely to remain indefinitely.
Perhaps the secret of their stability may be, that visitors pass all around them, but seldom come among them. People visit the coast to look at Spalatro for Diocletian's sake, at Pola for its magnificent amphitheatre, and for the memory of Constantine's unhappy son, and perhaps at Ragusa. But this is pretty well all they could do conveniently, which is the same thing as to say, it is all that nineteen travellers out of twenty would do. In those places where visits are paid by prescription, the traveller would find, as is likely, nothing of distinct nationality. Such places are like well-frequented inns, where any body and every body is at home, and where every body influences the manners for the time being—there will be found cafés, carriages, and ciceroni.
But the case is far different in the more abstruse parts of this region—in those districts of which some have subsided into the domain of the Turks, some remain independent, and a narrow strip only is reserved—the wreck of the old Empire. All are defaulters in the march of civilisation. But the independent Montenegrini retain in full force the odour of barbaric romance. They occupy a small territory, not noticed in many maps, shut in by the Turks on all sides, except where, for a narrow space, they border on Austria. But they pay no sort of subjection to either of these mighty powers. With Austria they maintain friendly intelligence on the footing of the proudest sovereignty, and an unqualified assertion of the right of nations. With the Turks their relations are of a ruder and more interesting kind.
The Montenegrini alone of Europe follow the political model of modern Rome. Their political head is their ecclesiastical superior. The regal and episcopal offices, conjointly held, are hereditary in collateral succession, since the reigning prince is bound to celibacy. In the consecration of their bishops, they pay no regard to canonical age, and the authorities of the Greek church seem to bend to the peculiar exigencies of the case. The reigning Vladika was consecrated at the age of eighteen. His power is, in fact, supreme, though formally qualified by the assessorship of a senate, who, though entitled to advise, would outstep their bounds did they attempt to direct. Indeed, legal authority among such a clan of barbarians can only subsist by despotism. Where every hand is armed, and violent death a familiar object, the power that rules must be enabled to act immediately and without appeal. To graduate authority among them, except in the case of military command, exercised by immediate delegation from the chief, would be to render it contemptible.
And such a bishop as now occupies this throne has not been seen since the martial days of the fighting Pope Julius. The old stories of prelates clad in armour, and fighting at the head of their troops, astonish us, but are regarded as altogether antiquated. Yet among those hills is exhibited a scene that may realise the wildest descriptions of romance or history. That the people are a people of warriors, is not so surprising when we consider their locality, their ancestry, and the circumstances of their life. If they were merely marauders, we should be no more struck with the singularity of their state than we are with the vagabondism of the Albanians. A wild country, a wandering population, and distance from executive restraints, may, in any case, bring natural ferocity to a harvest of violence and rapine. But the Montenegrini disclaim the name of robbers and the practice of evil. They consider themselves to be engaged in a warfare, not only justifiable, but meritorious, and over bloodshed they cast the veil of religious zeal.
It seems to be a fact that their violence is for the Turks only. So far as we could gain intelligence, they do not molest Christians; and experience enables us to speak with pleasure of our own hospitable reception. But against the Turks their hatred is intense, their valour and rage unquenchable. It is not to be supposed that any Turk would be so foolish as to attempt the passage of their territory, except under express assurance of safe conduct; but should one do so, he would find ineffectual the strongest escort with which the Sultan could furnish him. The savage nature of the district must prevent the combined action of regular troops, or of any troops unacquainted with the localities; and from behind the crags an unseen enemy would wither the ranks of the invader. Indeed, it would appear that the passage is not safe for a Turk even under the assurance of a truce. A tragical accident was the subject of conversation at the time of our visit. A body of the enemy had been surprised and cut off, notwithstanding the subsistence of a truce. Ignorance on the part of the assaulters was the ready plea; and a message had been dispatched to make such reparation as could be found in apologies and restitution of effects. But the thing looked ill. A truce must soon become notorious throughout so confined a region, and among a people of whom, if not every one engaged personally in the field, every one had his heart and soul there. It is to be feared that the obligations of good faith are qualified in the case of a Mahomedan; and however we may lament, we can hardly view with astonishment so natural a consequence of their bloody education. "Hates any man the thing he would not kill?"—and hatred to the Turks is the dawning idea of the Montenegrino child, and the master-passion of the dying warrior.
With certain saving clauses, we may compare the position of the Montenegrini to that of the old knights of Malta. Rhodes and Malta are hardly more isolated, and are more accessible than this mountain region. If there be a wide difference between the gentle blood and European dignities of the knights, and the rude estate of the mountaineers, there is between them a brotherhood of courage, inflexibility, and devoted opposition to Mahomet. Each company may stand forth as having discharged a like office, distinguished by the characteristic differences of the two branches of the church. The knights, noble, polished, and temporally influential, defended the weak point of Western Christendom—the sea; the Montenegrini, unpolished, ignorant, of little worldly account, but great zeal, have done their part for Eastern Christendom, in opposing the continental power of the Turks. The unpolished nature of their life and actions has been in the spirit of the church to which they belong. They have been rude but steady, and stand alone in their strength. They have resisted not only the power of Mahomedanism on the one side, but have also refrained from amalgamation with the western Christians, remaining firm in that allegiance to the sec of Constantinople, which the Sclavonians derived from their first missionaries.[3]