Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 60, No. 372, October 1846

As we proceeded on our road, we learned fully to comprehend the secret of their long independence. The country is of such a nature that it may be pronounced positively impregnable. Our thoughts fell back to the recollection of Affghanistan, and we felt that we had an illustration of the difficulties of that warfare. The passage is throughout a continual defile. The road, after the first hour or so, relents somewhat of its abruptness. But it pursues a course shut in on both sides by rocks, that assert the power of annihilating passengers. The rocks are inaccessible except to those familiar with the passages, perhaps except to the aborigines, who combine the knowledge with the necessary activity. Behind these barriers, the natives in security might sweep the defile, from the numerous gulleys that branch from it in all directions. It is difficult to imagine what conduct and valour could do against a deadly and unseen enemy. It is not only here and there that the road assumes this dangerous character; it is such throughout, with scarcely the occasional exception of some hundred yards, till it opens into the valley of Zettinié. One of our Austrian friends was of opinion that their regiment of Tyrolean chasseurs would be able to overrun and subdue the territory. If such an achievement be possible, those, of course, would be the men for the work. But it would be an unequal struggle that mere activity would have to maintain against activity and local knowledge. During our course, we kept close order; two of us did attempt an episode, but were soon warned of the expediency of keeping with the rest. A couple of minutes put us out of sight of our friends, which we did not regain till after some little suspense. Fogs here seem ever ready to descend; and one which at precisely the most awkward moment enveloped us, obscured all around beyond the range of a few feet. For our comfort, we knew that the people would be expecting visitors to their prince, and thus be less suspicious of strangers, if haply they should fall in with us.

Some three hours after our start, we perceived symptoms of excitement amongst the foremost of our band, and hastened to the eminence from which they were gesticulating. At our feet was disclosed a plain, not level nor extensive, but a plain by comparison. It bore rude signs of habitation, the first we had met. There was a single log-hut, much of the same kind as the inland Turkish guard-houses, only without the luxury of a divan. Around this were several people eagerly looking out for our approach. They had good notice of our coming; for as we rose into sight, our party gave a salute of small arms. This was returned by their brethren below, and the whole community (not an alarming number) hastened to tender us the offices of hospitality. Our horses were quickly cared for, seats of one kind or other were provided, and we sat down beneath the shade of the open forest, to partake of their bounty.

The valley was a shade less wild than the country we had passed, but still a melancholy place for human abode. It must be regarded as merely a sort of outpost – not professing the extent of civilisation attained by the capital; but, with every allowance, it was a sorry place. It did certainly afford some verdure; but probably they do not consider the situation sufficiently central for secure pasturage. That their sheep are excellent we can bear witness, for the repast provided consisted in that grand Albanian dish – the sheep roasted whole. Surely there can be nothing superior to this dish in civilised cookery. Common fragmentary presentations of the same animal are scarcely to be considered of the same kin – so different are the juices, the flavour, and generally, thanks to their skill, the degree of tenderness. It happens conveniently, that the proper mode of treating this dish is without knives, forks, or plates. It was therefore of little moment that our retreat afforded not these luxuries; we were strictly observant of propriety, when with our fingers we rent asunder the morsels, and devoured. The wine that assisted on this occasion was quite comparable to the ordinary country wines to be met, though it must be far from abundant. We saw here some of the children. Poor things, theirs is a strange childhood! Edged tools are familiar to their cradles. Sharp anguish, sudden changes, violent alarms, compose the discipline of their infancy. I saw one of them hurt by one of the horses having trodden on his foot, and, as he was without shoes, he must have suffered cruelly. A woman was comforting, and doubtless tenderly sympathised with him; but the expression of feeling was suppressed – she spoke as by stealth, without looking at him, and he listened in the same mood, withholding even looks of gratitude, as he did cries of pain. He was young enough, had he been a Frank, to have cried without disgrace, but his lesson was learnt. Suffering, he knew, was a thing too common to warrant particular complaint, or to require particular compassion. Expressed lamentation is the privilege of those who are accustomed to condolence. The husband, the son, the friend, bewail themselves – the lonely slave suffers in silence. Tears, even the bitterest of them, have their source in the spring of joy; when this spring is dried up, when all is joyless, man ceases to weep.

While we partook of this entertainment, the natives were preparing a grand demonstration in honour of our arrival. They had made noise enough, in all conscience, with their muskets, but small arms would not satisfy them, now that we were on their territory. They were preparing a salute from great guns – and such guns! They were made of wood, closely hooped together. Of these they had four, well crammed with combustibles. We had not the least idea that they would go off without being burst into fragments, and would have given something to dissuade our zealous friends from the experiment. But it was in vain that we hinted our fears – gently, of course, in deference to their self-esteem. A bold individual kept coaxing the touch-hole with a bit of burning charcoal – so long without effect that we began to hope the thing would prove a failure. Most people will acknowledge it to be a nervous thing to stand by, expecting an explosion that threatens, but will not come off. If it be so with a sound gun, what must it have been with such artillery as was here? Nothing less than serious injury to the life or limbs of the operator seemed to impend. To mend matters, our Italian friend, smitten with sudden zeal, usurped the office of bombardier; and it is perhaps well that he did for he had the common sense to keep as much out of the way as he could, under the circumstances. He kept well on one side, and made a very long arm, then dropped the fiery particle right into the touch-hole, and off went the concern, kicking right over, but neither bursting nor wounding our friend. It required minute inspection to satisfy ourselves that the guns had survived the effort, and their construction partly explained the wonder – the vents are nearly as wide-mouthed as the muzzles.

The interest of our day increased rapidly during the latter part of our journey. We were fairly enclosed in the country, drawing near the capital, and felt that every step was bringing us nearer the redoubted presence of the Vladika. The A. D. C. was curiously questioned touching the ceremonies of our reception, and uttered many speculations as to the mode in which the great man would present himself to us – whether with his tail on, or more unceremoniously. All that we heard, raised increased curiosity about the person of this martial bishop – one so very boldly distinguished from his fraternity. The Greek bishops are so singularly reverend in appearance, with flowing black robes, and venerable beards, supporting their grave progress with a staff, and seldom unattended by two or three deacons, that it became difficult to imagine one of their body charging at the head of warriors, or adorned with the profane trappings of a soldier. We kept a bright look-out as we rode on, our cavalcade being now attended by a fresh levy from our last halting-place. The country through which we passed was of somewhat mitigated severity, but still bare, and occasionally dangerous. There was a hamlet, in our course, of pretension superior to the first, as behoved – seeing that it was much nearer the metropolis, and security. Here was a picturesque church, a well, and a wide-spreading tree – the last a notable object in this district, where even brushwood becomes respectable.

The road at length became decidedly and sustainedly better. The rocks began to assume positions in the distance, and trotting became possible. We learned that we were drawing near the end of our journey, and our anxious glances ahead followed the direction of the A. D. C. At last the cry arose – "Vladika is coming," and in high excitement we pressed forward to the meeting. A body of horsemen were approaching at a rapid pace, and in a cloud of dust; and no sooner were we distinctly in sight than they set spurs to their horses, and quickly galloped near enough to be individually scanned. We could do no less than manifest an equal impatience for the meeting. This, to some of us, poor riders at the best, which sailors are privileged to be, and just at that time rather the worse for wear, was no light undertaking. In some of our cases it is to be feared that the mists of personal apprehension dimmed this our first view of the Vladika. The confusion incidental to the meeting of two such bodies of horse, was aggravated by the zeal of the wretched barbarians, who poured forth volley after volley of musketry. They spurred and kicked their horses, which, seeing that they had probably all at one time or an other been stolen from tip-top Turks, like noble brutes as they were, showed pluck, and kicked in return. Happily our animals were peaceful – more frightened by the noise than excited by the race, and much tired with their morning's work. Had they behaved as did those of our new friends, the narrator of this account would hardly have been in a condition to say much of the country, for he would probably have been run away with right through Montenegro, and have pulled up somewhere about Herzogovinia.

The confusion had not prevented our being struck with the one figure in the group, that we knew must be the Vladika. He was distinguished by position and by dress, but more decidedly by nature. His gigantic proportions would have humbled the largest horse-guard in our three regiments; and when he dismounted we agreed that he must be upwards of seven feet in stockings. This was our judgment, subsequently and deliberately. Captain – was of stature exceeding six feet, and standing close alongside of Monseigneur reached about up to his shoulders. His frame seems enormously strong and well proportioned, except that his hand is perhaps too small for the laws of a just symmetry. This, by the by, we afterwards perceived to be a cherished vanity with the Vladika, who constantly wears gloves, even in the house. His appearance bore not the least trace of the clerical; his very moustache had a military, instead of an ecclesiastical air; and though he wore something of a beard, it was entirely cheated of episcopal honours. It was merely an exaggeration of the imperial. His garments were splendid, and of the world, partly Turkish, and partly ad libitum. The ordinary fez adorned his head, and his trousers were Turkish. The other particulars were very splendid, but I suppose hardly to be classed among the recognised fashions of any country. One might imagine that a huge person, and enormous strength, when fortified with supreme power among a wild tribe, would produce savageness of manner. But the Vladika is decidedly one of nature's gentlemen. His manners are such as men generally acquire only by long custom of the best society. His voice had the blandest tones, and the reception that he gave us might have beseemed the most graceful of princes. He was attended more immediately by a youth some eighteen years of age, his destined successor, and by another whom we learned to be his cousin. The rest of the group were well dressed and armed, and, indeed, a respectable troop. The Vladika himself bore no arms.

We did not waste much time in ceremony, though during the short interval of colloquy we must have afforded a fine subject had an artist been leisurely observant. All dismounted and formed about the two chiefs of our respective parties, and made mutual recognisances. The confusion was considerable, and the continual noise of guns gave our poor beasts, who were not proof to fire, no quiet. The men, who were now about us in numbers sufficient to afford a fair sample of the stock, were most of them, at a guess, upwards of six feet high – some considerably so; and a wild set they seemed, though they looked kindly upon us. We were formally presented by our captain to the prince, and received the welcome of his smiles. His polite attention had provided a fresh and fiery charger for our chief, and the two headed the cavalcade, which in order dashed forward to the royal city. It was a grand progress that we made through a line of the people, who turned out to watch and honour our entry. The discharge of muskets was sustained almost uninterruptedly throughout the line. It was not long before the city of Zettinié opened to our view, situated in an extensive valley, quite amphitheatrical in character. As we turned the corner of the defile leading into the valley, a salute was opened from a tower near the palace, which mounts some respectable guns. We rode at a great pace into the town, and dashed into the inclosure that surrounds the palace, amidst a grand flourish of three or four trumpets reserved for the climax.

To a bad rider like myself it was the occupation of the first few minutes to assure myself that I had passed unscathed through such a scene of kicking and plunging; one's first sensation was that of security in treading once more the solid earth. When I looked up I saw the Vladika in separate conference with the A. D. C., and then he passed into the building. His hospitable will was signified to us by this functionary. The captain was invited to sojourn in the palace; we, whose rank did not qualify for such a distinction, were to be bestowed in two locandas; and all were bidden to dinner in the evening. Meanwhile the localities were open to our investigation.

One of the first curiosities was the locanda itself; curious as existing in such a place, and expected by us to be something quite out of the general way of such establishments. We proceeded to inspect our quarters, and to our astonishment found two houses of a most satisfactory kind. The rooms were neat, and perfectly clean, far superior in this respect to many inns of much higher pretensions. An honourable particular (almost exception) in their favour, is, that the beds contain no vermin. This virtue will be appreciated by any one who has travelled in Greece. The hostesses were not of the aborigines, they were importations from Cattaro. One was a widow, tearful under the recent stroke; the other was a talkative woman, delighted with the visit of civilised strangers. The fare to be obtained at these places is exceedingly good, and the solids are relieved by champagne, no less – and excellent champagne too. We were much surprised at the discovery of these places, so distinct from the popular rudeness, and puzzled to conceive who were the guests to support the establishments. Besides these two we did not observe any cafés or wine-shops, so probably they flourish the rather that their custom, such as it is, is subject but to one division. The good-will of the landladies was not the least admirable part of their economy. Though our numbers might have alarmed them, they with the best grace made up beds for us on the floor, and supplied us with such helps to the toilette as occurred.

We soon were scattered over the place, each to collect some contribution to the general fund of observation. But one object, conspicuous, and portentous of horrid barbarism, attracted us all at first. It was the round white tower from which the salute had been fired at our entrance. A solitary hillock rises in the plain, on the top of which, clearly defined, stands this tower. We had heard something of a custom among the Montenegrini of cutting off, and exposing the heads of vanquished enemies; but the story was one of so many coloured with blood, that it made no distinct impression. As we had ridden into the plain, this tower had attracted our observation, and we had perceived its walls to be garnished with some things that, in the distance, looked like large drum-sticks – that is to say, we saw poles each with some thing round at its end. These things we were told were human heads, and our eyes were now to behold the fact. And we did, indeed, look upon this spectacle, such as Europe, except in these wilds, would abhor. There were heads of all ages, and of all dates, and of many expressions; but from all streamed the single lock that marks the follower of Mahomet. Some were entire in feature, and looked even placid – others were advanced in decomposition. Of some only fragments remained, the exterior bones having fallen away, and left only a few teeth grinning through impaled jaws. The ground beneath was strewed with fragments of humanity, and the air was tainted with the breath of decomposition. It was truly a savage sight, unworthy of Christians; and, doubtless, such an exhibition tends to maintain the thirst of blood in which it originated. This hillock is a good point of view for the survey of the place. It looks immediately upon the palace, and over it upon the town. Near it stand the church and monastery; and that monastery affords the only specimen of a priest in priest's garments that I saw here. The palace is really a commodious, well-built house, of considerable extent. Its site occupies three sides of a parallelogram, and it is completely enclosed by a wall, furnished at the four angles of its square with towers. The part of this inclosure that is towards the front of the palace is kept clear, as a sort of parade. In its centre are some dismounted guns of small calibre. On the opposite side of the building are the royal kitchen gardens; neither large nor well-looking. The interior of the building is superior to its outside pretence. The rooms into which we were more immediately introduced, may be supposed to be kept as show-rooms. At any rate they were worthy of such appliance – lofty, well built, and highly picturesque in their appointments. But I went also into some of the more remote parts of the building, the room, for instance, of the A. D. C., and that was equally unexceptionable. It is to be presumed that they gave our captain one of their best bedrooms – and it might have been a best bedroom in London or Paris. Indeed, in so civilized fashion was the place furnished, that it heightened, by contrast, the horrors of the scene outside. Barren rocks, savage caverns, naked barbarian, should have been associated with the spectacle on the white tower. It was caricaturing refinement to practise it in such a neighbourhood; the transition was too abrupt from the urbanities within to the bloody spectacle that met you if you put your head out of the window.

The City of Zettinié – it has a double title to the name, from its bishop and its prince – consists of little more than two rows of houses, not disposed in a street, but angularly. Besides these there are a few scattered buildings. The palace, the monastery, and church, are at the upper end of the plain. The valley is level to a considerable extent, and not without cultivation. It has no artificial fortification, being abundantly protected by nature. The hills that shut in the valley terminate somewhat abruptly, and impart an air of seclusion. The houses are far more comfortable than might be expected. The occupations of the people, so nearly entirely warlike, are not among the higher branches of domestic economy. What industry they exhibit at home is only by favour of occasional leisure, and at intervals. Yet they are not without their manufactures, rude though they be. Specimens were exhibited to us of their doings in the way of coarse cloth. They manufacture the cloth of which their large scarfs or rugs are made, and fashion the same stuff into large bags for provisions; a useful article to those who are so constantly on the march. We also procured one of the large girdles worn by their women, to astonish therewith the eyes of ladies, as, indeed, they might well astonish any body. They brought to us, also, some of the elaborately wrought pipe-bowls peculiar to them. They are ornamented with fine studs of brass, in a manner really ingenious; and so highly esteemed that a single bowl costs more than a couple of beautiful Turkish sticks elsewhere. These articles are the sum of our experience in their manufactures.

The monastery and church are of considerable antiquity, and contrast pleasingly with the general fierceness. It cannot be said that the priests generally exhibit much of the reverential in their appearance. They follow the example of their warlike chief, being mostly clad in gay colours, and armed to the teeth. But in the monastery we found one reverend in aspect. He kindly exhibited to us the treasures of the sanctuary. They may claim at least one mark of primitive institution, which is poverty. Their shrine displays no show of silver and gold, yet it is not without valued treasure. A precious relic exists in the defunct body of the late Vladika, to which they seem to attach the full measure of credence prescribed in such cases. He is exhibited in his robes, and preserves a marvellously lifelike appearance. According to their account, he has conferred signal benefit on them since his departure, and well merited his canonisation. His claims ought to be unusual, since, in his instance, the salutary rule which requires the lapse of a considerable interval between death and canonisation, that the frailties of the man may be forgotten in the memory of the saint, has been superseded. The part of the monastery which we inspected, little more than the gallery however, was kept quite clean – an obvious departure from the mode of Oriental monasteries generally, than which few things can be more piggish.

The Vladika pays great attention to education, both for his people and himself. It is much to his praise that he has acquired the ready use of the French language, which he speaks fluently and well. He entertains masters in different subjects, with whom he daily studies. His tutor in Italian is a runaway Austrian, whose previous bad character does not prevent his honourable entertainment. For his people he has a school well attended, and taught by an intelligent master. It was not easy to proceed to actual examination when we had no common language; but it was pleasing to find here a school, and apparent studiousness. They not only read books, but print them; and a specimen of their typography was among the memorials of our visit that we carried away with us; unhappily we could not guess at its subject. The Vladika is a great reader, though his books must be procured with difficulty. He reads, too, the ubiquitous Galignani, and thus keeps himself au fait to the doings of the world. We were astonished at the extent and particularity of his information, when dinner afforded opportunity for small talk. This was the grand occasion to which we looked forward as opportune to personal conclusions; his conversation and his cuisine would both afford indicia of his social grade.

But when this time arrived, it found us under considerable self-reproach. We had found our host to be a much more polished person than we had expected. In this calculation we had perhaps, only vindicated our John Bullism, which assigns to semi-barbarism all the world beyond the sound of Bow Bells, and of which feeling, be it observed, the exhibition so often renders John Bull ridiculous. The Austrian officers had come in proper uniform; the English had brought with them only undress coats, without epaulettes or swords, thinking such measure of ceremony would be quite satisfactory. We now found that the intelligence of the Vladika, and the usage of his reception, demanded a more observant respect. But this same intelligence accepted, and even suggested, our excuses, and, in spite of deficiencies we were welcomed with gracious smiles. The strange mixture of the respectable with the disrespectable, was, however, maintained in our eyes to the last. The messenger sent to summon us to the banquet could hardly be esteemed worthy of so honourable an office. "See that man," said the grave Austrian to me, "he is a scamp of the first water – a deserter from my regiment, a man of education, and an officer reduced for misconduct to the ranks – one who, for numerous acts of misbehaviour and dishonesty, was repeatedly punished. He at last deserted, fled over the border, and now beards me to my face." He nevertheless proved a good herald, and led us to an excellent and most welcome dinner.