The Land of the Black Mountain: The Adventures of Two Englishmen in Montenegro — Reading Companion

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In Category - Geography

Authors: Wyon, Reginald, 1872-1921, Prance, Gerald Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2006 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Montenegro -- Description and travel Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 96,056

Reading time 418 min

Text sections 13

The catalog record for The Land of the Black Mountain: The Adventures of Two Englishmen in Montenegro — Reading Companion provides practical reading context through 96,056 words, 6 hr 58 min estimated reading time, and 13 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 15.4 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Montenegro -- Description and travel,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #17613

An editorial note examining how Wyon and Prance structure their travelogue through alternating movement and stillness, using landscape descriptions and encounters with locals to frame Montenegro as a land of contrasts.

Editorial Edition Score 4.9/5

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
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Edition quality

File: pg17613

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n watched over, and contingencies provided for, which we had taken as a matter of course.

Some, alas! of our friends are now no more. The Governor of Podgorica was shot down in broad daylight a short while ago whilst taking his midday promenade in which we so often shared. Others, too, have fallen on the borders. Friends are easily lost in Montenegro, where a charge of powder and a bullet settle differences.

Disagreeable episodes happened to us--they happen everywhere--but these we have rightly or wrongly omitted. The good that we experienced certainly outweighed the bad, and that shall be our reason for so doing.

And again, throughout the book we have given our _first_ impressions, much of it was written during our actual progress through the land. It may be that our feelings will thus be more interesting than a cut-and-dried treatise of the land and its inhabitants.

In conclusion, it will not be amiss to add an explanation of the Serb names which appear throughout the book in the original spelling. The names have often an unpronounceable appearance, and look harsh and forbidding. This is far from the case, for the Serb language is full-toned and musical.

In common with the Slav languages it has a sixth vowel, viz. "r"--hence such words as "Srb" (Serb), "trg" (place or square), and "Trst" (Triest). It is only necessary to roll the "r" to overcome this seeming anomaly of a collection of consonants. The language is spoken exactly as it is written, as for instance Italian, but the consonants s, c, and z vary according to their accents.

"s" is our sharp s; but with inverted circumflex

"š" it becomes "ssh," as in "show."

"c" is pronounced "tz": thus Cetinje is spoken Tzetinje; Podgorica as Podgoritza.

"ć" and "č" are accentuated "tsch": as Petrović, Petrovitsch; Morača, Moratcha.

"z" is soft, as "s" in "rose."

"ž" is sounded like the French "j" in "journal."

"dž" is sounded like the "j" in "James."

"nj" is sounded like the "gn" in French "campagne": Tzetigné (Cetinje), and so on.

We are fully aware of many shortcomings, and for these we crave pardon, but if we benefit little Montenegro by the publication of our work, then we shall not have written it in vain.

England has once before proved the friend of Montenegro; the fighting instincts of that brave race, their love of freedom, and the possession of their most glorious of histories appeal to all of us.

I fear there are troublous times ahead for that gallant little nation, perhaps another bitter disappointment is in store for them, when they will need a friend.

Times have changed now, personal valour avails but little against overwhelming armies and modern artillery.

"We little nations must beseech the Almighty to give us peace," said Prince Nicolas to me not so very long ago.

VIENNA, _February, 1903_

THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN

Montenegro's geographical position--Character of the people--Their honesty, patriotism, and love of arms--Likeness to the Homeric Greeks--The women--Montenegrin manners, vices, heroism, lack of privacy, police--Goodness of the Prince--The national costume--Religion--Hatred of Austria--Russia's friendship.

Roughly Montenegro is diamond-shaped, with its points towards north and south, east and west. To the north-east it is bounded by the Sandjak of Novipazar, held by Turkey and Austria jointly, and dividing it from its parent country, the kingdom of Servia. To the south-east lies Albania, while Austria again borders Montenegro in Bosnia and the Hercegovina in the north-west and in Dalmatia to the south-west. Dalmatia and a narrow strip of the Adria complete the circuit, so Austria practically surrounds Montenegro on three sides.

The land may be said to possess three distinct belts of vegetation, each of an entirely different character. It is divided from north to south by the River Zeta, and the low-lying plains are fertile and rich, and this district also comprises the sea coast. To the west is the Katunska or "Shepherds' huts," those barren and rocky mountains of old Montenegro, from which the country derives its name; while to the east lies the Brda, mountains vying with Switzerland in beauty, rich grazing grounds and densely-wooded hills abounding with game, and the streams well stocked with fish.

The plains are the granaries of Montenegro, unfortunately too limited in area to give an abundance, but there is a mine of wealth in the Brda, when that part shall be opened up by connecting roads. The vast primeval forests and mineral products will be an important source of income in the times to come. Even at the present day the district constitutes the chief source of revenue from the export of cattle, sheep, and horses which flourish on the magnificent mountain pasturages. Montenegrin wool, greatly famed, comes too from the Brda.

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Wyon and Prance structure The Land of the Black Mountain around a series of journeys that alternate between rapid movement and contemplative pauses. The narrative moves from the coast inland, from town to mountain, and from public ceremonies to private conversations. This rhythm of travel and rest shapes the reader's experience of Montenegro as a place where distance is measured in hours of riding and where each halt offers a new perspective.

Journey as Narrative Frame

The book’s chapters are organized as sequential stages of a journey, beginning with the approach to Montenegro via Cattaro and ending with a long ride along the Albanian frontier. Each chapter typically opens with a departure or arrival, then settles into a scene of observation or conversation. For instance, Chapter III describes the drive to the frontier and first impressions, while Chapter XV begins with a morning departure from Andrijevica. This structure gives the narrative a forward momentum, yet the authors frequently interrupt it with detailed descriptions of landscapes, customs, or historical digressions. The effect is a travelogue that feels both purposeful and meandering, mirroring the actual experience of traveling through rugged terrain.

Stillness and Observation

Amid the movement, the authors often pause for extended observation. A notable example is the sunset scene in Chapter XIV, where the narrator sits with a local boy on a ridge overlooking two valleys. The description lingers on the changing light, the “angry bank of clouds,” and the “gloomy confusion” of the Albanian Alps. Such moments of stillness allow the authors to reflect on the people they meet, like the boy who prefers his mountain home to the temptations of Podgorica. These pauses are not merely scenic; they serve as occasions for dialogue and cultural commentary, revealing the authors’ interest in Montenegrin attitudes toward modernity and tradition.

Recurring Images: Arms and Landscape

Two images recur throughout the text: firearms and the mountainous terrain. The authors note that Montenegrins carry weapons habitually, and the narrative itself is punctuated by shooting—whether for sport, farewell, or self-defense. In Chapter XV, the party loads rifles and revolvers before proceeding, and a parting volley is described as “a pleasant custom.” The landscape is equally persistent: the Kom mountain, the Albanian Alps, and the “impenetrable blackness” of ravines are described repeatedly. These images reinforce the sense of a frontier region where danger and beauty coexist. The authors use them to create a visual and emotional backdrop that ties together the disparate episodes of their journey.

Movement Between Public and Private Spaces

The narrative shifts between public ceremonies and intimate encounters. In Cetinje, the authors visit the prince, the barracks, and the prison—formal, institutional spaces. Later, they share meals in a “typical country inn” and converse with a Turkish renegade. The most private moments occur in the mountains, where the authors talk with shepherds or a solitary boy. This alternation highlights the contrast between Montenegro’s official face and its everyday life. The authors seem most engaged when they step away from officialdom, as in the long ride along the frontier, where the threat of danger and the beauty of the landscape combine to create a sense of adventure.

Readers will find that the book’s structure rewards attention to the transitions between movement and rest. The authors do not simply catalogue sights; they build a narrative that mirrors the physical and emotional rhythms of travel. By noting how each chapter balances journey and pause, one can better appreciate the craft behind this account of Montenegro at the turn of the twentieth century.

That rainy afternoon, I kept returning to how Wyon and Prance paused between their climbs—stillness making the mountains speak louder. Later, the same quiet rhythm surfaced unexpectedly in Highways and Byways in Sussex — Themes and Context, where gentler hills held the same patient attention. One book simply led to the next, like footsteps on a wet path.