Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 286, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 November 1912 — Cettinje A Homely Mountian Village [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Cettinje A Homely Mountian Village

A_JDECLARATION of war Is always a serious matter, but in one who has been on the ground, the news that Montenegro had declared war against Turkey Inevitably aroused a certain modified merriment. Subsequent proceedings have reduced the element of comedy materially, but when the little mountain kingdom first stood forward against the Porte, the two antagonists offered a sufficient contrast for smiles at least. Considering the size and resources of the two antagonists, it is very much as if New Rochelle declared war on New York in the hope of capturing and annexing Yonkers, the last-named city being represented by Scutari d’Albanie, a place about ten times as large as the Montenegrin capital, and one which the Montenegrin monarch has always coveted. Contrary current Impression, Montenegro Is not at all difficult of access. Excellent steamships take one from Trieste down the picturesque Dalmatian coast and disembark One at the town of Cattaro, which lies at the head of the lovely bay of that name. A mile or two back from the bay rises a steep, stony mountainwall, with a smooth, white military road zigzagging laboriously up it, and over that mountain range is Montenegro. The drive from Cattaro up to Cettlnje is one of the most beautlfuT in the world. From the mountain-top, west over Cattaro and the, smiling bay and the sparkling blue waters of the sunny Adriatic, and east across the great, gloomy, desolate gray mountains, the views are remarkable. In my opinion, this drive is far finer than the much-lauded Upper Corniche, between Nice and Monte Carla. Until quite recently the drive by carriage took seven hours, but now one can go by motor car. Some Royal Financing. Motoring ih Montenegro has, however, its limitations, as there is probably not a road in the country, except the one previously mentioned, over which an automobile could pass. Even the Cattaro-Cettinje road is hazardous enough at that, because on it there are no less than one hundred and thirty turns so acute that a car with a long wheel base finds difficulty In negotiating them at all, and most of these turns are on a considerable grade. Once over the mountain and across the Montenegrin frontier, the first impression is that of the absolute desolation of the country. Nothing but |>leak, gray, stony mountain ranges, one after the other, as far as the eye can reach,into the misty distance. Not a habitation, not a tree of any size, not a sign of life. The outlook suggests an Imaginative lithograph of the beginning of the world. Only one evidence of humane existence is seen. Along the roadside are numerous flat-bottomed pockets of land, where a little cultivable soil has washed down the rocky slopes, and in each of these pockets a few potato plants have been carefully Bet out. Often the pocket is so small as to contain only a dozen plants, but in a land so sterile and stony every square foot of soil Is thriftily utilized. No houses are visible, and people must come miles to cultivate these struggling patches. A Homely Mountain Village. Cettlnje lies in the middle of a small, fertile plain which was once the bed of an ancient lake, surrounded by grim hills. It Is a town of about thirty-five hundred Inhabitants —hardly more than a village—and yet It Is the capital of a nation that has for generations preserved its identity against far greater neighbors, whose rapacity for territorial expansion is tc£ well known to reouire comment In her sturdy spirit ofielf-defense little, Montenegro leaves naught for criticism. There Is not much of the formality of a European capital about Cettlnje. The reiging moharch can frequently be seen leaning out of a window in casual conversation with one of his subjects, in very much the same posture as that of a Third avenue tenement dweller, who watches the ele-

vated railroad trains go by, Tha_ principal hotel of the town is kept by a magnificent man, who at the time of my visit was minister of war. The conduct of his hotel was decidedly unceremonious, except that the Austrian minister and the Italian minister appear for dinner every night In full dress. Probably each one felt that the dignity of his country mußt be maintained at all hazards, and neither one could take it on himself to suggest a sartorial disarmament. Strict formality is exercised in some branches of the government; a telegram which I sent to the telegraph office at nine o’clock one morning was returned to me unsent at five o’clock that afternoon with the criticism that I should have written it In ink instead of lead-pencil. It goes without saying that the Montenegrins are a warlike race. Every man is expected to carry arms, and, In fact, it is against the law to go unarmed. Even the clergy are not excepted from this rule, yet a stranger can hardly help feeling surprised whecr he sees a dignified priest of the Greek church In his professional robes, but with a couple of enormous revolvers stuck In his belt. I heard of but ofte fatality during my Btay in town, and that was when a somewhat exhilarated native fell down stairs in a case and one of his own revolvers was accidently dischhrged, shooting him through the stomach. As a mark of repect to the deceased, the proprietor of tin case turned off the talking machine on the day of the funeral . It is surprising that there are not more such accidents, since the consumption of ammunition is tremendous. In fact the exercise of firearms, so far as I could learn, constituted about the only national -amusements Over in Scutari, a man told me of what a splendid time he had had at a wedding on the previous day; he had fired off nearly two hundred cartridges.

ARMING THE INFANTRY