on the eastern shores of the adriatic, nestling between the unfamiliar provinces of herzegovina and albania, lies the kingdom of montenegro. it is a tiny spot on the map and until very recently was rated as a principality. the entire population of montenegro would make only a small american city, yet the montenegrans are a proud nation, with an engrossing and noble history, and perhaps no country in europe has had a more romantic past. they are an aggressive people, these montenegrans, always armed, ever ready to fight for the cause of freedom, a liberty-loving people, a staunch folk. the denizens of montenegro have always been daring and bold; withal a poetic people. nicholas, their prince, is the first warrior in the kingdom and also the first poet. he is a picturesque figure, familiar to europe and more or less known to america, for much has been written about him. some years ago, some one had the temerity to inquire of prince nicholas, as he then was called, what were the exportations of monte{220}negro, to which question he gave answer, “my daughters.”
the daughters of king nicholas have indeed been a wonderful asset to this little nation. one married a russian grand duke, thus securing the friendship of russia. another married a servian, who at the present time reigns over that kingdom. while another, elena, married a prince who presently became a king, making his spouse queen of a great nation.
the story of the romance of the montenegran elena and the italian prince, son of the late king humbert, and now known as king victor emanuel iii, is one of the most romantic stories connected with the court life of europe. princess elena was the fourth child of king nicholas, and she, perhaps more than any of the children, inherited many of her father’s noble qualities.
many times as i have watched her driving through the streets of rome, deftly holding the reins and guiding the great black horses up and down the hilly, badly paved streets, or leisurely reposing in one of the magnificent royal automobiles speeding up the pincio or through the lovely gardens of the villa borghese, complacently acknowledging the salutes of the people, i have tried to fancy the little black-eyed princess among her native hills—bounding like a chamois from rock to rock among the tallest crags and peaks, rejoicing in the high air, the free life, the glorious rapture that comes only to the mountain-born. in fancy i have{221} pictured her returning to her simple cittenje home at night, her hands holding delicious bunches of alpine flowers, her arms laden with flower branches. a strange girlhood this, for a future queen. but so elena lived as a child—naturally, spontaneously, freely.
and now—beside this fancy-memory i have to place a recollection of another phase of her life, when i saw her as queen, in the midst of the horrors of messina, nursing the wounded and comforting the dying. the night she was injured during a panic following one of the earthquake shocks i was standing on the deck of a ship lying so close to the italian flagship that i could watch the wild rush of refugees across the decks, many of them to the rails as if to throw themselves into the sea. one afternoon i was on a british warship when queen elena came aboard to visit the wounded who were about to be conveyed to naples. she spent more than an hour among the cots and stretchers and spoke a personal word to each and every one. all this was fine—a kind of work queens rarely do. it was dramatic, too. for during the days immediately succeeding the first shock, earthquakes were constantly recurring and there were a hundred dangers to which all were exposed. but when we know of queen elena’s early years we understand the instinct which took her so promptly to messina, and we understand many of the other qualities which distinguish her from the other queens of the world.{222}
elena’s grandfather was called prince mirko, a name renowned in the history of montenegro, for when mirko was a very young man, long before he had become the idol of the montenegran people, he was serving in a war against turkey. one day mirko and a comrade became detached from their regiment and fell into an ambush. the situation looked desperate. pausing for an instant the two young officers made a vow that if they both survived the day, and eventually got back to their homes that they would one day seal their friendship and the memory of that experience, in blood. some years later mirko having married, became the father of a son whom he called nicholas. when the boy nicholas was seven years old, mirko’s old comrade of the turkish war became the father of a daughter whom he named melena. these two children became betrothed when melena was still in her cradle and when she was only thirteen years old she and nicholas were married. the fortune of life was so ordered that in time nicholas became the ruler of the little principality, and melena, his wife and consort, from the very first shared the responsibilities of administration with him. so complete a helpmeet has melena been to nicholas that from time to time when the prince has of necessity quit montenegro to visit his friend and ally the tsar of russia, or his son-in-law, the king of servia, he has left all the reins of rulership to melena, who has ever discharged her duties wisely. besides all this she has borne
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queen milena of montenegro, the mother of queen elena.
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him thirteen children. elena was their fourth child. it was no inconsiderable thing when she was picked by the prince of naples to be his bride, because this meant she would eventually be a great queen. elena was born fairly in the lap of romance, and fate has been extraordinarily generous to her in supplying her with exceptional romantic and dramatic episodes which, ever since she came into her own have served to bring her before the eyes of the world.
no queen in europe to-day, save the tsaritsa and queen victoria eugenie, looks more a queen than elena. she is stately and tall, with a statuesque poise that anywhere singles her from the throng. her hair is as black as midnight forest depths, her eyes as luminous as live coals. her skin is like unto olives, and her hands firm and strong and large. her shoulders are broad and she holds them squarely. the impression the woman gives is of unusual physical strength. nor could this well be otherwise in view of her athletic training. as a child she was always a devotee of nimrod, given inordinately to the chase. long after her marriage she continued to hunt,—to shoot deer and birds,—to ride to hounds, and play tennis. a modern diana might she in verity be called. but her training was not restricted to sports and outdoor activities. far from it. these were but natural incidentals to each day’s work in montenegro, and well it were if similar customs held the world over, for surely{224} there are no better physiques in both men and women anywhere on earth than in this same little montenegro.
elena’s parents are both extraordinary people. old prince nicholas is one of the most remarkable rulers in the world to-day. like julius caesar, he boasts that he knows the names of all the men in his army, and as all of the men in montenegro are of the army, his boast is practically that he knows all of his subjects. a ruler who interests himself thus deeply in the affairs of his state would naturally look carefully to his own family. and so when elena was a wee baby just learning to toddle, the prince used to take her upon his knee and give her her first lessons. her first tutor, he used to call himself. he it was who taught her the letters of the alphabet of her mother tongue, gave her her first lesson in reading. his was the great hand that guided the little baby fingers as they laboriously traced the difficult slavish hieroglyphics. later, he interested her in geography and in history. never a day passed when nicholas was so occupied with the affairs of his kingdom, or with the knotty international problems that are forever engaging the troublesome little balkan states and the great ghoul powers of austria and turkey that are ever lying in wait to gobble them up, that he neglected the lessons of his little daughter.
during the early years of her life elena lived in the great square grey “palace” of the ruler of montenegro in cittenje. it is not a beautiful nor{225} elaborate home like most of the palaces of the sovereigns and rulers of europe. indeed, it is distinctly plain and unimposing, with bare and barren surroundings. the stern mountains of montenegro rise abruptly behind the town, and the palace is on the edge of the miniature capital almost in the shadows of the cragged hills. here lived prince nicholas and princess melena, and all their children until one by one the latter married and drifted to other lands—princess zorka to become the wife of the present king of servia; princess melitza to become the spouse of grand duke peter nicholaivitch of russia; elena to become the princess of naples and subsequently the queen of italy.
as a child elena was always lively and active. in america she would have been called a “tomboy,” for she preferred the company of her brothers to that of her sisters and it was through the pains of two of them—danilo and mirko—that she became expert with the rifle and rod, a familiar horsewoman, and so able a walker and climber.
the spirit of elena was wild and free. she loved fresh air, a mad scamper over the hills, an adventure that savoured of danger. encouraged by her father and brothers to all activities in the open she developed into a strong, stalwart girl and later into the amazonian woman she is to-day. long after her marriage she retained the fresh and breezy way acquired in girlhood.
an important influence in elena’s early life were the grandfather’s tales she listened to round the{226} great fire in her homely palace home. montenegro, like all older mountain countries, has a folk tale and a legend associated with every crag and valley. elena heard from her veteran grandfather how the montenegran people battled with the turks, and her little heart would fairly quiver with the heroic deeds of valour that the old man would relate of the stormy days when the balkan peninsula was like a great seething cauldron, and men, and the women too, came down from the mountain fastnesses in their quaint and rude attire to fight the trained troops of european armies. thus was her child’s imagination fired, and love and pride of country aroused.
one day little elena brought her father some sheets of paper upon which were drawn some strange pictures. the prince held the sheets upside down at first, trying to make out what his little daughter had brought him. elena was much hurt at this and she could hardly keep back the tears. but when the prince turned the papers round the right way he quickly made out, under her guidance, the house and the mountain, and the dog chasing the sheep. indeed, he admired not a little this first artistic effort of elena’s, and right there and then he sat down with her and together they drew the pictures all over again, only this time much better as elena herself realised. this was the little princess’s first drawing lesson. after that elena had a drawing lesson every day. she soon showed signs of a distinct talent in this direc{227}tion and by the time she was ten years old she had not only conquered the first principles of drawing but she had also made considerable progress in the use of water colours. this talent elena continued to develop, and with what success may be judged from the fact that when she was still a girl in her teens she became a kind of unofficial “minister of fine arts” in her father’s cabinet. she was instrumental in bringing art exhibits into montenegro, in organising drawing and painting classes in the public schools and thus for the first time bringing the refining and civilising influence of art culture to her people. she even inaugurated scholarships to encourage art students, and to-day montenegro has a number of ambitious painters who are actually building up a school of art of their own. influenced by the picturesque barrenness of their native mountains, together with the gorgeous skies and brilliant atmospheres, they are developing an individual and nationalist school. to this day, queen elena retains her interest in the native montenegran artists, and also in her own drawing and painting. in the quirinal palace in rome she has a studio, where of an afternoon she may frequently be found spending an hour at her easel. it is her custom each christmas to send as gifts to her more intimate friends sketches and little water colours of her own handiwork.
elena had other tutors than her father and grandfather, however. from a young child she{228} had a swiss governess who was her daily companion, and who instructed her in french, and supplemented the teaching of her father in the other branches. it is thus the training of elena from childhood was the training not only of a princess but of one who might easily assume the duties and obligations of a queen. it is not likely that the little elena ever dared to dream of what her future might be or that her imaginings ever pictured that in womanhood she might occupy a throne as the consort of the king of a great nation, but her father is one of the most astute statesmen in europe, and with all his children he arranged their education so that they might be acceptable to any high niche in life to which destiny might call them.
