THROUGH
SAVAGE EUROPE
DeWindt
LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF
CALIFORNIA
SAN DIEGO
a
s
This Book is published by T. Fisher Unwin, and is
supplied to Booksellers on terms which will not admit of
their allowing a discount from the full published price.
THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Books on the Balkans and Russia
From Carpathian to Pindus : Pictures of Roumanian
Country Life. By TEREZA STRATILESCO. With
two Maps and many Illustrations. Demy 8vo,
cloth, 15s. net.
Russia Under the Great Shadow. By LUIGI VILLARI,
Author of "Giovanni Segantini," "Italian Life in
Town and Country," &c. With 84 Illustrations.
Demy 8vo, cloth, 10s. 6d. net.
Fire and Sword in the Caucasus. By LUIGI VILLARI.
Illustrated. Demy 8vo, cloth, 10s. 6d. net.
The Balkans : Roumania, Bulgaria, Servia, and
Montenegro. By WILLIAM MILLER, M.A. Third
Impression. With 39 Illustrations and Maps.
(" Story of the Nations.") Large crown 8vo, cloth,
5s.
Russia. By W. B. MORFILL, M.A., Professor of Russian
and the other Slavonic Languages in the University
of Oxford. Fifth Edition. With 60 Illustrations
and Maps. (" Story of the Nations.") Large crown
8vo, cloth, 5s.
LONDON : T. FISHER UNWIN.
Through Savage Europe.
THROUGH
SAVAGE EUROPE
BEING THE NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY
(UNDERTAKEN AS SPECIAL CORRE-
SPONDENT OF THE "WESTMINSTER
GAZETTE"), THROUGHOUT THE BAL-
KAN STATES AND EUROPEAN RUSSIA
BY
HARRY DE WINDT, F.R.G.S.
AUTHOR OF "THE NEW SIBERIA," "A RIDE TO INDIA,"
"FROM PARIS TO NEW YORK BY LAND," ETC.
WITH ONE HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN
ADELPHI TERRACE
MCMVII
To
HYLDA
(All rights reserved.)
FOREWORD
MOST English travellers of recent years in the
Balkans have given the names of towns and dis-
tricts as they are written in the dialect of each
country, thereby rendering them wholly unpro-
nounceable to the uninitiated. "Obrenovic" (pro-
nounced "Obrenovitch"); "JaJce," "Yaitche";
and " Konjica," "Kognitza," are examples.
I therefore think it better to adhere throughout
this work to phonetic spelling so far as native
words are concerned, chiefly in case the reader
should ever be tempted to visit the Balkan States,
where mispronunciation may occasionally cause
the traveller considerable inconvenience.
HAEBY DE WINDT.
GABRICK CLUB, W.,
December, 1906.
CONTENTS
CHAPTEB I
PAGE
DOWN THE ADRIATIC . . 15
CHAPTEE II
" THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN " . 24
CHAPTER III
CETTIGNE . . . . . . .42
CHAPTEB IV
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR .... 55
CHAPTEB V
RAQUSA . . .... .67
CHAPTEB VI
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 80
8 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
CHAPTEE VII
PAGE
MODERN BOSNIA . . . . . .93
CHAPTEB VIII
BELGRADE ... . 109
CHAPTEE IX
RECENT RULERS OP SERVIA ..... 125
CHAPTEE X
ALEXANDER AND DRAGA . . 133
CHAPTEE XI
MURDERERS IN UNIFORM ..... 143
CHAPTEE XII
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER . . . 151
CHAPTEE XIII
" THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS " . . . 167
CHAPTEE XIV
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT .... 180
CHAPTEE XV
THE LAND OF UNREST ..... 196
CONTENTS
CHAPTEE XVI
PAGE
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS .... 220
CHAPTER XVII
THE CITY OP PLEASURE . . . 247
CHAPTEE XVIII
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA (1) 261
CHAPTEE XIX
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA (2) . . 277
CHAPTEE XX
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA (3) . . 291
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR . . . Frontispiece
FACING PAGK
THE MARINA, CATTARO . . . . .18
ENTERING MONTENEGRO . . . . .34
MONTENEGRIN VILLAGE . . . . .34
GUZLA PLAYERS . . . . . .40
NIEGOUTCH. . . . . . .41
CETTIGNE . . . . . . .42
THE PRINCE OF MONTENEGRO . . . .46
THE PALACE, CETTIGNE . . . . .50
THE "GUIDE" . . . . . .56
NEARING RIEKA . . . . . .58
RIEKA . . . . . . .60
MARKET PLACE, RIEKA (TWO VIEWS) . . .62
THE CROWN PRINCESS OF MONTENEGRO . . .64
A LAST GLIMPSE OF RIEKA . . . .66
RAGUSA . . . . . . .70
PORTA PILLE, RAGUSA . . . . .74
A BIT OF " OLD " RAGUSA . . . . .78
THE NARENTA RIVER . . . . . 80
MOSTAR . . . . . .82
11
12 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
FACING PAGE
A VEILED WOMAN OP MOSTAB . . . .84
THE OLD BRIDGE, MOSTAR . . . .88
VEILED WOMEN OUT WALKING, MOSTAR . . .90
MAGLAJ, BOSNIAN FORTRESS . . . .92
GENERAL VIEW OF SERAJEVO . . . .96
A BOSNIAN WARRIOR . . . . .98
SERAJEVO FROM THE PALACE .... 100
A STREET IN SERAJEVO ..... 104
A BOSNIAN SMUGGLER ..... 108
BELGRADE . . . . . ,-,,.. 110
THE CATHEDRAL, BELGRADE .... 112
KING PETER I. ...... 126
THE LATE KING ALEXANDER OF SERVIA . . . 134
THE LATE QUEEN DRAGA ..... 138
COLONEL MASCHIN ...... 146
THE OLD KONAK ...... 148
THE MILITARY CLUB, BELGRADE, THE MEETING-PLACE OF
THE REGICIDES ..... 151
THE " SERVIAN CROWN " RESTAURANT, THE SECOND
MEETING-PLACE OF THE REGICIDES . . . 152
CEMETERY OF ST. MARK ..... 158
THE NEW PALACE, BELGRADE .... 162
CORONATION STAMP OF PETER I. . . . . 164
SERVIAN PEASANTS . . . . . . 168
AT LAPOVO . . . . . . 170
" FRITZ " . . . . . . .172
A RAILWAY STATION ..... 174
NISCH . . . . . . . 180
PEASANT WOMEN AT NISCH .... 182
AN OLD SERVIAN MONASTERY . 184
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 13
FACING PAGE
HOTEL D'OEIENT, NISCH ..... 186
THE PALACE, NISCH ..... 190
THE TOWER OP SKULLS, NISCH .... 192
A TOUGH CROWD AT ROPITZA .... 194
THE NISCHAVA VALLEY ..... 198
THE GRAND BOULEVARD, SOFIA .... 200
A STREET IN SOFIA ..... 204
BULGARIAN PEASANTS . . . . . . 206
OFFICES OF THE " REFORMS " . . . 210
PLEVNA . . . . . . . 220
A BULGARIAN PEASANT . . . . . 222
MONUMENTS TO RUSSIAN GENERALS ERECTED OUTSIDE
PLEVNA ...... 226
BULGARIAN SCENERY ..... 228
A BULGARIAN VILLAGE ..... 230
TIRNOVA . . . . . . . 232
A STREET IN TIRNOVA ..... 234
CURIOUS ROCKS NEAR GABROVA .... 236
DANCING THE KOLO ..... 238
GABROVA ....... 240
A STREET IN GABROVA ..... 242
THE FOOT OF THE SCHIPKA PASS .... 244
MOUNT ST. NICHOLAS, SCHIPKA PASS . . . 245
MARITZA . . . . . . 246
MARITZA'S FUNERAL ..... 247
A STREET IN BUKAREST ..... 248
A RUMANIAN LADY ...... 250
RUMANIAN TZIGANES ..... 252
RUMANIAN WOODCUTTERS ..... 254
THE PALACE, SINAIA , 256
14 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
FACING PAGE
A RUSSIAN GIPSY ...... 262
AT UNGHENI ...... 264
A BRIDE OP "LITTLE RUSSIA" .... 266
PEASANTS OP "LITTLE RUSSIA" > . . . 268
A DON COSSACK . . . . . . 270
A COSSACK'S WIFE . . . . . . 271
NEAR VLADIKAVKAZ . . . . . 272
VLADIKAVKAZ . . '." . . . 274
THE CAUCASUS MOUNTAINS . . . . . 275
MAIN STREET, VLADIKAVKAZ .... 276
A SHOOTING PARTY, CAUCASUS MOUNTAINS . . 278
MILITARY ROAD BETWEEN VLADIKAVKAZ AND TIFLI8 . 280
MOUNT KASBEK, CAUCASUS . . . . . 282
THE DARIEL GORGE, CAUCASUS .... 284
KAZMINSKY ROAD, CAUCASUS .... 286
A PORT IN THE CAUCASUS MOUNTAINS . . . 288
A CAUCASIAN BRIDE ..... 289
KIEFF ....... 290
THE "SACRED CITY" OF KIEFF .... 294
AN HOUR BEFORE THE RIOT, WARSAW . . . 296
GRAVES OF VICTIMS KILLED IN THE WARSAW RIOT . 296
BUDAPEST . . 298
CHAPTER I
DOWN THE ADRIATIC
" WHY ' savage ' Europe ? " asked a friend who
recently witnessed my departure from Charing
Cross for the Near East.
"Because," I replied, "the term accurately
describes the wild and lawless countries between
the Adriatic and Black Seas."
For some mystic reason, however, most English-
men are less familiar with the geography of the
Balkan States than with that of Darkest Africa.
This was my case, and I had therefore yet to learn
that these same Balkans can boast of cities which
are miniature replicas of London and Paris. But
these are civilised centres. The remoter districts
are, as of yore, hotbeds of outlawry and brigandage,
where you must travel with a revolver in each
pocket and your life in your hand, and of this fact,
15
16 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
as the reader will see, we had tangible and un-
pleasant proof before the end of the journey.
Moreover, do not the now palatial capitals of
Servia and Bulgaria occasionally startle the outer
world with political crimes of mediaeval barbarity ?
Witness the assassination of the late King and
Queen of Servia and of Monsieur Stambuloff, the
Bulgarian Premier. Wherefore the term " savage "
is perhaps not wholly inapplicable to that portion
of Europe which we are about to traverse, to say
nothing of our final destination the eastern shores
of the Black Sea.
I travelled upon this occasion as special corre-
spondent to the Westminster Gazette. My sole
companion was Mr. Mackenzie, of the Urban
Bioscope Company, a canny Scotsman from Aber-
deen, possessed of a keen sense of humour and of
two qualities indispensable to a "bioscope" artist
assurance and activity. Nothing daunted my
friend when he had once resolved to secure a
"living" picture, and I trembled more than once
for his safety in the vicinity of royal residences or
military ground. For the bioscope was a novelty
in the Balkans and might well have been mistaken
for an infernal machine !
Our itinerary was to comprise Montenegro,
Herzegovina, Bosnia, Servia, Bulgaria, Rumania,
Southern Russia, and the Caucasus in the order
named. Trieste was the actual point of departure,
and from here we sailed one bright morning in
March in a comfortable Austrian steamer for
Cattaro (with the accent on the first syllable),
DOWN THE ADRIATIC 17
the gateway of the tiny principality which has
proved such a thorn in the side of the Turk.
This two days' sea-journey is a delightful one at
any season of the year, for the course is chiefly
laid through picturesque fjords rarely ruffled by a
strong breeze, and it was pleasant to bask on deck
in the warm sunshine and forget the sleet and
east winds lately experienced in cold, foggy
England. The little Pannonia was crowded; no
one spoke English and very few a little French,
but the innate courtesy and pleasant manners of
our Austrian fellow-passengers atoned for any lack
of conversation. As a rule I cordially detest sea
travel, chiefly for its monotony, but on this little
voyage there was plenty of incident, for every few
hours would bring us to one of the white palm-
girt towns, which, as we progressed southward,
became more novel and picturesque. Zara, on
the first day, seemed a picture of loveliness,
Spalato lovelier still, but both were eclipsed the
next morning by Ragusa, that " Pearl of the
Adriatic," which we shall visit in detail later on.
A few hours beyond this we enter the Bocche di
Cattaro, three almost landlocked salt-water lakes,
each one more beautiful than its predecessor.
These must be traversed in order to reach our
destination, and on entering the second we lose
sight of the sea, and the Pannonia skims swiftly
across smooth, transparent waters into the third
lake, from the entrance of which we sight the
little town of Cattaro, nestling under a perpendi-
cular precipice of rock. As usual, a crowd on the
2
18
quay awaits the arrival of the steamer. It is
chiefly composed of men and women in the national
dress of Dalmatia, with a sprinkling of Austrian
uniforms and German broadcloth. The Bocche di
Cattaro have been likened to the Swiss and Italian
lakes, but in my opinion the scenery of the
former is as superior to these in grandeur as
Niagara to the falls of Schafftiausen. Geneva and
Como are pretty enough in their way, but become
almost commonplace when compared with this
frowning fortress and Eastern-looking town, where
bright barbaric costumes, dazzling sunshine and a
turquoise sky are more suggestive of some fantastic
ballet scene at the Alhambra than of a place
within four days' journey of Charing Cross.
I think it was Lord Byron who once called
Malta a " little military hothouse," and the term
applies to Cattaro, where about two-thirds of the
population wear the Austrian uniform. The place
is as strong as Gibraltar there is no doubt of
that ; and yet the work of fortification is still
being carried on with feverish activity, more
especially since the Russian reverses in the Far
East. Cattaro may, indeed, be called impregnable,
for in addition to its own formidable citadel no less
than twenty-seven forts with heavy and modern
guns now command the inlets which divide it
from the sea. If appearances go for anything,
Austria has certainly "come to stay" in these
parts. The place itself consists of an intricate
network of tiny streets and squares beautifully
paved with huge blocks of granite, but as puzzling
'
DOWN THE ADRIATIC 19
to a stranger as the maze at Hampton Court. It
almost resembles a miniature town, the available
space between the quay and wall-like cliffs being
so restricted. Near the harbour are some fine
Government buildings and public gardens with the
usual cafe and bandstand, where Mars and Venus
meet on summer evenings to discuss refreshments
and the latest scandal. This so-called garden a
few dusty shrubs and sickly flowers is the only
bit of verdure in the place, which for all its lovely
surroundings is as arid as Aden, and the eyes
rest eternally upon glary white roads and walls
until they ache again. Nevertheless Cattaro is
pleasant enough in bright weather, but on dull
days, when the mountains are wreathed in mist
and blue waters fade into a dull grey, it be-
comes unutterably dreary and depressing at
least so I was told ; for during our brief stay the
sun beat down so fiercely and incessantly that
gloomy skies would have been a relief. Gnats
swarmed in their legions, and I have known the
flies less troublesome at Suez in July as we
threaded our way (through alleys so narrow that
a man could almost shake hands with his opposite
neighbour) to our inn. The Hotel de Graz is at
present the only habitable one here, and is a trifle
better, as regards food, than a Siberian post-house,
and rather worse, as regards accommodation, than
a common lodging-house in Whitechapel. , We
fared far better in peasants' huts over the border
in Montenegro than in this Austrian so-called
"hotel." Only one room was vacant, and poor
20 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Mackenzie, who had never been far afield from
Bonny Scotland, surveyed the rickety bedstead
and dirty sheets, creased by many previous occu-
pants, with infinite disgust. Touched by his dis-
tress, I called for whisky to solace the man of
Aberdeen, but, alas ! discovered that he was a
"teetotaler"!
Cattaro is the gateway of Montenegro, and the
mass of rock which towers over it is the famous
" Tsernagora," which signifies in Slavonic " Black
Mountain." Montenegro means, of course, the
same thing, but is an Italian corruption of the
original word. Both names, however, are equally
unsuitable, for mountains and rocks throughout
the principality are unusually light in colour. In
former days the Tsernagora was a formidable
barrier a frontier in the most practical sense of
the word for only experienced climbers could
then enter the country by means of the " ladder,"
a tiny goat-track which can yet be discerned from
Cattaro zigzagging up the mountain until it is lost
in cloudland. The natives still scale this with
ease, although towards the summit a slip would
mean certain death. Pierre Loti, the famous
French author, is one of the few strangers who
have crossed this breakneck pass of recent years,
but the talented writer of "Frere Yves" is a
sailor. At any rate there is no necessity to
traverse it now, for a driveable road was made in
1881 a few miles to the westward of the old path-
way, and the ill-fated Crown Prince Eudolf of
Austria was the first to make the journey in a
21
carriage and pair. But even the modern ascent
looks so steep from below that we mistook it at
first for the now disused and perilous "ladder."
Cattaro has been so often wrecked by earth-
quake and battered by shells in the past, that
it retains few buildings of antiquity or interest.
Only some remarkable ramparts, erected centuries
ago by the Venetians, have survived countless
sieges and convulsions of nature, and these are
now modernised by the addition of unsightly
barracks and modern artillery. There was no
object in remaining here over the morrow, and
I therefore set about finding a vehicle for the
journey to Cettigne (the capital of Montenegro),
while Mackenzie sallied forth to find material for
the bioscope, which latter attracted almost as
much notice here as a menagerie in an English
village. The reader has probably seen thousands
of biograph views, but is, perhaps, unacquainted
with the instrument itself, which is a square,
brass-bound, mahogany case, about the size of
an ordinary camera, supported by a spidery tripod
about seven feet high. I begged my friend to be
careful, for the captain of the Pannonia had
warned us that spy-mania was raging in Cattaro
with unusual virulence, and that only a short time
before our arrival an Austrian Archduke, travelling
incognito, had been arrested by mistake, and had
passed a day in the local gaol for merely carrying
a " Kodak" in the vicinity of military works !
Having secured a conveyance for the morrow, I
strolled about the place to while away the time
22 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
until the advent of a meal, facetiously described as
" dinner " by our landlord. All roads in Cattaro
lead to the quay or " Marina," as this fashionable
resort is called and here, towards evening, I found
a dense crowd assembled to witness the funeral of
a distinguished official which was to pass here on
its way to a cemetery on the outskirts of the town.
It was a strange and impressive scene the verdant
shores of the lake fading into a mist of distant
hills, the blue harbour sparkling in the sunshine,
a military band in the distance ; all, on one side,
was life and gaiety, on the other that gloomy
corUge emerging from an archway in the city
walls to wend its course, like a dark river, through
a restless array of bright costumes and showy
uniforms. Low murmurs of admiration greeted
the hearse one mass of costly wreaths and
flowers which was preceded by a score of dark-
robed priests swinging censers and chanting
solemn requiems of the Greek Church. The
procession was perhaps half a mile in length, and
at intervals some sacred emblem a silver crucifix
or silken banner towered above a forest of flicker-
ing tapers. Presently my attention was attracted
by a strange object, an oblong wooden receptacle,
evidently weighty, for it was borne with difficulty
and occasionally at a perilous angle, over the heads
of the mourners. This relic occupied the centre of
the line, where it seemed to excite unusual interest
and reverence. What could it be, or contain ?
vestments, perhaps, once worn by the patron saint
of the city. Curiosity impelled me to press forward
DOWN THE ADRIATIC 23
for a closer inspection, while the rows of sable-clad
figures filed past with slow and measured tread,
and joining in the mournful chant of the clergy.
At last the mysterious casket came abreast, but,
great heavens ! Is this a dream, or rather a night-
mare, from which I shall presently awake in our
mouldy bedroom at the Hotel de Graz ? No
wonder the natives had surveyed this unusual
object with blank amazement (which I had mis-
taken for awe and veneration), if those G-aelic
features and " heather mixture " suit be not an
empty vision. But any doubt is soon dispelled by
a furtive wink of recognition which momentarily
hovers over the melancholy expression assumed
for the occasion. This is no dream, and I am
wide awake sufficiently awake, at any rate, to
identify, only too clearly Mackenzie and his
bioscope !
* * * *
My friend returned at dusk to the hotel, cool
and imperturbable as usual. " I got the graveyard
scene all right," he said, as we smoked a cigar
under the stars; " but there was scarcely enough
life and animation in the picture ! " And at a
funeral, too ! But some people are never
satisfied.
U
CHAPTER II
THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN. 1
MONTENEGBO was practically unknown, so far as
England is concerned, until the Russo-Turkish
War of about thirty years ago. I shall not weary
the reader with a dry and prosy history of a
country which was the birthplace of Diocletian,
and dates back to the days of the early Romans.
Suffice it to say that this little nation has always
fought its own battles, and generally with success,
partly owing to the traditional bravery of its de-
fenders and partly to the wild, inaccessible nature
of their stronghold. For in this warlike land the
crime of cowardice is regarded as infinitely worse
than that of murder, and the puniest lad would
sooner die than betray the slightest sign of fear
under the most trying circumstances. When, at
the commencement of the last century, neighbour-
ing states of far greater extent and power were
quailing before the legions of France, these hardy
highlanders snapped their fingers in the face of
the great Napoleon, and that astute monarch
preferred to make a friend rather than an enemy
of this pugnacious little State. The Emperor was
24
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 25
probably aware of its strength, and notwithstanding
his famous, but empty, threat of converting the
Black Mountain into a scarlet one (with the blood
of its people !), Bonaparte made every effort, after
the battle of Kagusa, to secure the Montenegrins
as allies. For they had given the Imperial troops
such a taste of their fighting powers that the
latter were not anxious to renew the experiment.
But all this is ancient lore, and therefore out of
place in a work dealing solely with the modern and
(at present) peaceful aspect of life in the Balkans.
It is only, as I have said, within the past few
years that the name of Montenegro has conveyed
something of its personality to the outer world ;
indeed, not so very long ago, a well-known English
author was asked (in a London drawing-room),
" whether Cettigne was not the capital of Bulgaria,
and whether the Montenegrins were not blacks ! "
Nevertheless, the assistance rendered to the Tsar
by this tiny ally during the Eusso-Turkish War is
now a matter of history, and I can remember the
surprise caused in England by the news that a
mere handful of untrained men, under the Prince
of Montenegro, had routed the Ottoman forces and
seized the Albanian towns of Antivari and Dulcigno.
And even prior to this Montenegro had main-
tained her independence, single-handed, for over
five hundred years against the Turks.
At the close of the war Montenegro entered upon
a well-deserved era of peace and prosperity, and
was enabled, by the Treaty of Berlin, to almost
treble her area. The new territory included Dul-
26 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
cigno and a part of the shores of Lake Scutari
one of the few fertile regions in this waterless land
so that now the Principality has thirty miles of
long-coveted seaboard and two (so-called) harbours.
But I doubt if even the acquisition of these were
as popular as the marriage of Princess Helena
of Montenegro to the Crown Prince of Italy.
" Now ! " said the Prince, with a sigh of satis-
faction when the betrothal had been formally
announced, " Now, at any rate, we shall be
heard of!"
"Where is Montenegro, anyway?" asked an
American I met at Trieste and the place, though
by no means remote, is so vaguely known that I
had better also inform the reader. In shape Mon-
tenegro resembles the Ace of Diamonds, with a bit
of the left portion (or western extremity) missing.
In this direction, about a hundred miles across the
Adriatic, lies the heel of Italy, while inland Austria
(or rather the States under her jurisdiction) almost
encircles the Black Mountain. Albania on the
south-east, and the Sandjak of Novi-Bazar on the
north-east frontier, are the only exceptions, and
even the latter is jointly held by Austria and
Turkey. Elsewhere this little country is prac-
tically hemmed in by the former power (save for a
tiny strip of her own territory on the sea-shore),
in Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Dalmatia. It is
scarcely surprising, therefore, that the ceaseless
efforts of Austria to strengthen the defences of
the "Bocche" should be viewed with some appre-
hension at Cettigne.
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 27
The entire population of Montenegro numbers
about a quarter of a million, and the country is
about half the size of Wales, but the interior is
such a chaos of mountains that quite a third of it
is as yet unexplored. A Servian proverb says,
" When God made the world, the bag containing
the rocks broke, and they all fell out and formed
the Tsernagora." But this is, of course, somewhat
exaggerated, and I prefer the description of a clever
French writer who compares the inland surface to
" rolling billows of stupendous height suddenly
turned to stone in the midst of a tempest." The
simile is not overdrawn, for Montenegro is literally
" a sea of mountains," and with the exception of
Baluchistan, I have never traversed a more barren
and desolate country, although it is only fair to say
that we did not visit the " Berda," or more fertile
region in the East, which one of these days is
expected to produce great results. The shores of
Lake Scutari are also productive, and there are a
few oases amongst the mountains, such as those of
Cettigne, Podgoritza, and Kie"ka, where there are
good grazing grounds, and where maize, barley,
and even vines and oranges flourish. But these
districts are well watered unlike most of the
interior, where many of the natives have never
tasted anything but brackish rain-water collected
in the rocks. Indeed, were it not for the river
Zeta, which divides the country from north to
south, and the oases I have mentioned, no one
could exist in this stony, sterile land. On the
other hand, the " Berda" has no lack of water,
28 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
and its numberless torrents run through well-
wooded ranges and grassy plains. This is known
as " the Alpine region," for some of the moun-
tains attain a considerable height, notably the
snowy peak of Dormitor, which is over 8,000 feet
above sea-level.
There are no regular post-roads in any direction
right across Montenegro. Late in the summer you
may travel on horseback and afoot with a guide
from Cettigne into Bosnia in something under
three weeks, but at other seasons the journey is
always tiresome and frequently impracticable.
Although travellers have been occasionally held
up for ransom, there is little danger from brigands,
for none could exist for many days without
supplies hi those sterile wastes. But if there
are trackless deserts and dense forests, where
man can scarcely penetrate, you can drive from
Cattaro to Cettigne, and thence half across the
country to the town of Niksitch, over roads as
good as any in England. These were made by
order of the Prince, who has a mania for road-
making, and in this hobby he is encouraged, and
occasionally monetarily assisted by the Austrian
Government for obvious reasons !
I have never, in all my wanderings through-
out the world, met a better fellow than the
Montenegrin, who seems to be absolutely free
from the petty meannesses which often charac-
terise natives of the further East. He has
been called the " Afghan of Europe," and if the
latter be as brave as a lion, generous in his
"THE LAND OP THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 29
dealings, and the soul of honour, the simile is
correct. Everywhere throughout the country the
stranger meets with nothing but kindness and
hospitality. Let him enter the meanest dwelling
and the owner will give him all he possesses as
a matter of course, and with no after thought of
remuneration. The moment a traveller crosses
the threshold he is gravely informed that the
dwelling is his and all that therein is and this is
meant to be taken literally. I remember refusing
to accept a dagger which I had admired in a way-
side hovel, and finding, several hours afterwards,
that the owner had concealed it under the cushions
of my carriage. At the same time I do not doubt
that, if absolutely necessary, your host would kill
you without the slightest compunction, but it
would certainly be for the sake of his honour and
not of your purse. And you would first be given
a weapon with which to defend yourself, for a
Montenegrin would sooner lose his life than attack
an unarmed man.
The men of the Tsernagora are justly famous
throughout the Balkans for their good looks and
splendid physique. They are a race of giants, and
a man of average height in England would be
regarded here as something akin to a dwarf. But
notwithstanding his formidable frame and stature
the Montenegrin is graceful in all his move-
ments, and the picturesque national dress suits
him to a nicety. Every one wears it, prince and
peasant rich and poor ; and if you meet a
man in tweeds or broadcloth, he is generally a
30 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
stranger in the land. The costume of course
differs in texture according to the wearer's means
the lower class wearing a tunic of coarse white
serge embroidered with black braid, baggy breeches
stuffed into gaiters of the same material, and
opanki or sandals with a leather sole secured
to the foot by a network of string. Sheep-skins
are worn at all seasons, for there is no dis-
tinctive winter and summer dress, at any rate for
the peasantry, who wear either half a dozen layers
of underclothing or none at all, according to the
temperature. Daggers and firearms are carried in
a broad " cummerbund " wound several times
round the waist, and the former are often of the
finest steel and exquisitely inlaid. The Court and
upper classes wear a scarlet vest, thickly em-
broidered, and over it a long white or sky-blue coat
reaching to the knees. Over this again is worn a
zouave jacket, sleeveless, and so plastered with
fantastic patterns in gold lace that the material is
almost concealed. Baggy red or dark blue breeches,
jack boots of patent leather or white kid, and the
inevitable " cummerbund " and miniature arsenal
complete the costume of the Montenegrin noble
for everyday wear. On special occasions it is even
more gorgeous. Every one, irrespective of rank,
wears the kapa, a tiny black silk forage cap,
with a scarlet cloth crown. On the latter are the
letters " H.I." (or in Slavonic characters Nicholas
the First) enclosed in five semicircles worked in
gold thread. This badge distinguishes the Mon-
tenegrin from Albanians and Dalmatians (who
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 31
wear a cap of similar pattern), the semicircles
denoting the five centuries of Montenegro's self-
gained independence immortalised by the late Poet
Laureate :
" Of Freedom ! warriors beating back the swarm
Of Turkish Islam for five hundred years,
Great- Tsernagora ! never since thine own
Black ridges drew the cloud and broke the storm,
Has breathed a race of mightier mountaineers."
Women also wear the Jcapa, but are not en-
titled to the badge ; one of the many restrictions
under which they are placed, for the weaker
sex here have what Americans call " a pretty
mean time." As in Turkey, a woman is looked
upon as a mere instrument of pleasure, which
seems strange in a country professing the Chris-
tian faith. In Cettigne itself Prince Nicholas
has, of late years, done much to improve and
elevate the social condition of his female sub-
jects, but in the provinces a wife is treated
as an altogether inferior being, sent into the
world for the sole purpose of waiting upon her
lord and master. All Montenegrins belong to the
Orthodox Greek Church, but the clergy here (as in
some parts of Eussia) appear to encourage rather
than condemn this state of things. An English
writer has described the women of Montenegro as
being beautiful, but if this be so I was singularly
unfortunate, for even the youngest we met ap-
peared to me to be extremely plain. Their dress,
it is true, would render even a pretty woman
32 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
grotesque, consisting as it does of a shapeless white
skirt and bodice secured by a silver or leathern
belt and worn under a long coat of masculine
appearance. The women of the Black Mountain
usually wear very subdued colours, and it is said
that marital infidelity, amongst the lower orders at
any rate, is almost unknown.
You can travel comfortably enough in Monte-
negro, as we soon found. For our carriage, with
its springs and soft cushions was luxurious com-
pared to the rough, bone-shaking country carts of
Servia and Bulgaria, and its troika * of wiry
little horses went like the wind. A start was made
for Cettigne at 6 a.m. from the quay, to which we
had to walk from the hotel, the narrow streets
around the latter being too narrow for a convey-
ance. The beggars of Cattaro outnumber those of
Palermo, and if less repulsive they are even more
importunate. It was only, therefore, with difficulty
that we eluded a ragged crowd, which by the time
we reached the waterside had increased to alarming
proportions. Mackenzie was delighted they
were such excellent subjects for his ubiquitous
" camera"! But the artist was less enthusiastic
a few hours later when, in the barren fastnesses of
the Tsernagora, we missed an interesting parcel
in the way of lunch, which had been purloined
while he was at work.
Up till now I had always regarded the White
Pass Railway in Alaska as one of the wonders of
* A Russian term, also used here, signifying three horses
abreast.
the world, but this little-known carriage-road over
the Tsernagora runs it very close. At one time
it was deemed impossible to lay even a footpath
up this almost perpendicular wall of granite, but
there is now a smooth and excellent road which
retains a uniform width, to the very summit of the
mountain, of about half the breadth of Piccadilly !
This stupendous feat of engineering took many
years to accomplish, and when we consider the
perilous nature of the work, and the miles of solid
rock that had to be blasted away (often by men
slung in wicker baskets over a dizzy precipice), the
wonder is that it was ever accomplished at all.
Moreover, there is even less danger here than over
the passes of Switzerland or Italy, which are
merely guarded by blocks of stone placed many
yards apart. On the Tsernagora, accidents are
rendered almost impossible by walls ranging from
four to twelve feet high, built on the edge of
every precipice, although on the other side of
the road there are often giant boulders, which
have been left standing, apparently so insecurely
that a child could dislodge them. The ascent
is gradual, so much so that you scarcely seem to
be mounting at all. It becomes, therefore, rather
wearisome after a while, for some of the zigzags
are of such length, that you may drive for, perhaps,
half an hour, and find that during that time you
have gained a distance of but forty or fifty feet in
height. Thus it took over two hours to reach a
little stone rest-house half-way to the summit.
The mail coach had just arrived here from Cet-
3
34 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
tigne a clumsy but gorgeous equipage, with
guard and driver in full national costume and
armed to the teeth. These men alone are per-
mitted to carry firearms into Austrian territory,
their countrymen being deprived of rifles and
revolvers at the frontier or rather the guard-
house below it, the border itself being indicated
by a rough cairn which we passed eight miles out
of Cattaro. All weapons are carefully docketed
and returned, but their confiscation often leads to
difficulties and occasional bloodshed. An Austrian
douanier was shot dead here the day after we
passed, by a young shepherd who thought he was
trying to rob him. For the arms of a Montenegrin
are often heirlooms, centuries old, and therefore
priceless to their owner.
The bare, comfortless hut was crowded with
passengers, who gave a very bad account of the
roads on the downward side of the mountain. I
also learnt here, for the first time, that communi-
cation with Cettigne had been suspended for nearly
a month on account of deep snow, and that this
was only the third mail out of the country in as
many weeks. These facts had been carefully con-
cealed by our host of the Hotel de Graz, who
owned a livery stable, and apparently preferred to
rob his guests on the road than to poison them at
home. At any rate we decided to abandon all
hope of reaching the capital (still nearly twenty
miles distant) that night, and to remain at Nie-
goutch, the only town on the way, about ten
miles from Cettigne. Our informant, a German
ENTERING MONTENEGRO.
Photo by Author.
A MONTENEGRIN VILLAGE.
Photo by Author.
To face page 34.
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 35
commercial traveller, complained bitterly of his
enforced residence of nearly three weeks in Mon-
tenegro, which he compared unfavourably with a
region generally supposed to possess a warmer
climate.
As we were leaving, another troika drove up
from below to disgorge an elderly gentleman of
huge proportions, clad in tweeds and a fez, and
beaming through huge spectacles. The new-comer
was assisted into the hut in a violent state of
excitement, gradually increased by the fact that
no one present could understand his language.
There the poor fellow sat, the picture of helpless-
ness, mopping his brows, while a ring of swarthy,
wild-looking Montenegrins regarded him with much
the same amazement as we should display at some
abnormal specimen at the Zoo ! English, German,
Italian, Turkish, were tried without success, but at
last a few words of French solved the difficulty.
The unfortunate traveller (a carpet merchant from
Alexandria), declared that he had been robbed of a
silver cigar-case by his driver, who had remained
with it in the carriage while its owner alighted to
admire the view. No sooner was this explained
than a cadaverous and whimpering levantine was
dragged from his box neck and crop, by half a dozen
Montenegrins, searched, and promptly relieved
of the missing object, to the great delight of the
Egyptian. "I took it!" said the thief calmly;
"but I lost my own yesterday!" The excuse
(about on a par with that of the Spanish youth
who killed his parents and then pleaded for pardon
36 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
on the ground that he was an orphan) luckily
amused the crowd, and the incident closed with
uproarious laughter at the cool impudence of the
culprit. The man was an Italian, the Monte-
negrins argued, and therefore a thief and not
worth a thrashing. If a compatriot, he would
surely have been severely handled, if not shot, for
any theft here is an unpardonable crime.
The morning had been dull and hazy, but when,
towards midday, a climb of nearly six hours
brought us to the summit, the sky was cloudless,
and the glorious panorama spread out like a map
beneath us, was bathed in glorious sunshine. And
what a view ! I have visited many parts of the
world, civilised and otherwise, but never have I
witnessed anything to compare with this one for
extent and beauty. No lake scenery in creation
can approach that of the three land-locked har-
bours which form the Gulf of Cattaro. So clear
was the atmosphere that the town itself, more
than 3,000 feet below, appeared so close that
you could fling a pebble into the market-place,
although large steamers resembled toy-ships, and
row-boats water-ants skimming over the glassy
harbour. On either side of the "Bocche" were
the rugged ranges, which, from the deck of the
Pannonia, looked like precipitous mountains, but
which, viewed from here, became almost insigni-
ficant hills only, let me add, so far as their
altitude was concerned. For nearly every one is
fortified, and although this formidable avenue of
defences is invisible from Cattaro, one can well
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 37
realise, from the summit of the Tsernagora, that
even the allied fleets of Europe would find the
place a hard nut to crack. Further afield we could
distinguish the snowy peaks of Montenegro and
Dalmatia, and the sunlit Adriatic, only a shade
less blue than the lakes, with white towns,
woods, and meadows clearly mirrored on their
placid surface. It is said that no artist has
ever been able to portray this exquisite scene
upon canvas, and in my humble opinion no
artist ever will.
A halt of an hour was made here for lunch,
and we lay on the rocks and revelled in the sun-
shine which would soon be a thing of the past.
For snow even now lay thickly by the roadside,
and the furs and frost-bitten features of the few
peasants who passed us, bound for Cattaro, told us
what we might expect in a few hours. Lunch
was a dismal failure. Dr. Johnson once observed
that "the finest landscape in the world was not
worth a d without a cosy inn in the fore-
ground," and there is, no doubt, some truth in the
assertion. For instance, we might possibly have
appreciated the beauties of nature even more
under the influence of the good breakfast laid in
(and stolen) at Cattaro, than the dubious eggs
and measly ham which were purchased as a last
resource at the rest-house.
It was still early in the day when we crossed
the ridge and reached the eastern slope of the
mountain ; and here the sky was dull and overcast,
and an icy wind cut through our furs as though they
38 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
had been cambric. The surroundings now changed
with the rapidity of a scene-shift at a London
theatre. A lonely strip of country divides Cettigne
from the Tsernagora lonely even for Monte-
negro, which says a great deal. To-day the
mournful impression was heightened by a sea of
snow, from which perpendicular, treeless masses
of rock emerged here and there, while in the
distance mountain upon mountain, peak upon
peak, some swept clear of snow by furious gales,
but all devoid of vegetation, stretched away to the
dreary horizon : so far as the eye could see, not a
vestige of life or particle of verdure. On every
side the outlook was one of gloom and desolation,
and more suggestive of a lunar than an earthly
landscape. Our friends at the rest-house had
certainly not exaggerated the state of the road.
Although an army of men had for the past week
been clearing away impassable drifts, the snow was
still up to the axles, and even, in low-lying spots,
above them, while it lay piled up to a height of six
or eight feet on either side of the roadway. Twice
the vehicle was firmly embedded, and it needed
our united efforts and those of the struggling
troika to dislodge it again. Then darkness fell,
and with it a sharp, driving sleet that slashed
the face painfully and reduced our already funereal
speed to a crawl. This fortunately occurred within
a couple of miles or so of our destination, or the
exhausted team would never have reached it. It
was past ten o'clock before we sighted Niegoutch :
a few dim, flickering lights kindled by oil or tallow,
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 39
and invisible for more than a few hundred yards.
Yet it took us nearly an hour to reach them !
Our stay at the H6tel de Graz at Cattaro had
prepared me for even worse accommodation in the
interior. Niegoutch (the ancient capital of Monte-
negro) is now little more than a village, and I
therefore fully expected to pass the night in some
filthy mud hut, with the usual adjuncts in the
shape of vermin and nauseous food. But this is a
land of surprises pleasant and otherwise and,
much to my astonishment, the " Hotel " mys-
teriously hinted at by our driver proved one well
worthy of the name. For here, having discarded
soaking tweeds, we were ushered into a brightly-
lit room, where an officer in the uniform of the
Eussian line was partaking of a civilised repast at
a table drawn up by a cheerful fire. An invitation
to join him was gratefully accepted, for the sight
of a savoury meal and snowy linen was a pleasant
one after hours of cold and darkness. Nor was a
tiny glass of vodka unacceptable as a prelude to
supper, and thereafter a bottle of wine of the
country, in which we drank to our friend's speedy
convalescence from a nasty wound received at Port
Arthur. Captain Kaditz was a tall, handsome
Montenegrin, who, like many of his compatriots,
had passed through the military College of St.
Petersburg into the Kussian Army. A pleasanter
companion I never wish to meet so genial, indeed,
proved our friend that a cuckoo clock in the hall
had struck midnight before we retired to rest.
"If it is all like this," said Mackenzie, as
40 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
we turned into clean and comfortable sheets, "I
sha'n't grumble ! " But the Scot was doomed to
disappointment, for this Niegoutch hostelry had
only just been started by an enterprising Dal-
matian, and was already renowned as one of the
best hotels in the Balkans. Why it was built, or
how it is expected to pay in this remote village,
remains a mystery. But this, so far as we were
concerned, was immaterial, and when I strolled
round the village next morning and saw what our
accommodation might have been, I felt constrained
to present that up-to-date landlord with a hand-
some gratuity the more so that his charges were
extremely moderate.
Niegoutch is the cradle of the Petrovitch
Dynasty, and probably for this reason Prince
Nicholas has a small house here seldom in-
habited, as the plasterless walls and closed and
rusty shutters testified. Beyond this there was
nothing to see in the place, which resembled some
squalid hamlet in the far north of Scotland, with
its tiny pastures enclosed by low walls, and loosely-
built stone dwellings, thatched with straw, more
like cattle-sheds than human habitations. All this
we saw through drizzling rain, which, with melting
snow, had converted the village street into a fair
imitation of a duck-pond. The Russian warrior
had departed while we slept, and we proceeded,
after a substantial breakfast, to do likewise. The
meal was accompanied (but not improved) by the
doleful strains of a guzla, a kind of elongated
violin with one string, played by a blind beggar in
GUZLA PLAYERS.
To face page 40.
"THE LAND OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN" 41
the road. This is the national instrument of the
Servian race, which is said to have inspired the
latter in its most glorious deeds of patriotism. If
this be so, I can only admire and envy the facility
with which the enthusiasm of the Servian race is
aroused !
The road that day was even worse than on the
preceding night, and rain fell persistently through-
out the journey, the greater part of which was
occupied in wading through slush, far worse than
snow to travel through. This is usually a drive of
about four hours, but it took us more than twice
that time to accomplish it. Finally a dense fog
came down, rendering objects a few yards off
invisible, and, drawing over the hood, we resigned
ourselves to circumstances boredom, and finally
slumber, which lasted until we were awakened,
towards dinner-time, by lights and welcome voices
at the Grand Hotel, Cettigne.
CHAPTER III
CETTIGNE
WHENEVEE I visit a new country (which has
occurred pretty often during the past twenty
years) I generally try to picture beforehand what
the place will be like. But I seem fated* to dis-
cover, with unerring certainty, that the reality is
as far removed from my preconceived notion of it
as can well be. For instance, I had pictured
Cettigne as a fiercely guarded stronghold, buried
in the heart of the mountains a town of frowning
arches and dark, precipitous streets, swarming
with armed men and bristling with fortifications,
for somehow or other Montenegro is a name
suggestive of grim places and people. Of course I
was wrong, as usual, for Cettigne stands on a
dreary plain surrounded, it is true, by mountains,
but they more resemble hills and are some miles
distant. There is no visible sign here of the war-
like spirit which has made this little country famous
throughout Europe. From a distance the capital
resembles a straggling French village, with its
one-storied, red-tiled houses clustered around half
a dozen larger buildings and a couple of church
CETTIGNE 43
spires. The place conveys an impression of dull-
ness and a certain amount of agricultural life,
and that is all. And yet many a staunch-hearted
patriot has left it for the field of battle, never to
return.
Cettigne is the smallest capital in Europe, and
I should say the bleakest, with the exception,
perhaps, of Petersburg. I have seldom felt the
cold, even in Arctic Siberia, as I did here, for
there was a moist rawness in the air which
chilled one to the bone and increased the dis-
comfort of splashing through the muddy streets,
or rather rivers of slush. This barren plateau
is also a nest of gales, which made matters
worse. I have often been asked how my ex-
pedition survived the land journey from Paris
to New York, when we lived for three months
in the open and the thermometer never rose above
10 Fahr. below zero, and once fell to 78 ! Under
the latter conditions the lightest zephyr would
probably kill the strongest man, but, by a merciful
dispensation of Providence, extreme cold is never
accompanied by wind. Strange as it may seem,
I have felt comparatively warm in 70 below zero,
in stillness and bright sunshine, and shivered in
London on a squally November day with the
mercury well above freezing-point.
Thus we saw the Motenegrin capital under un-
favourable conditions (climatically speaking), but
although most of the buildings were half concealed
by snow banked up to a height of several feet on
either side of the so-called streets, and wintry
44 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
skies prevailed, it was possible to conceive how
picturesque and pleasant the place might become
with "frescoed" dwellings and sunlit gardens
under the influence of summer. Cettigne con-
tains about three thousand souls, and is easily
seen from end to end in a couple of hours. There
are two principal thoroughfares, cobbled and com-
posed of houses of the "door and four windows"
type, and a score of smaller streets where wine-
shops flourish and the dwellings are even meaner
in appearance. The shops such as they are are
mostly for the sale of clothing, provisions, and
saddlery, and there are one or two silversmiths
where you may still pick up a bargain in the shape
of antique rings, old filigree work, and the heavy
leather belts, studded with gems or coloured glass
as the case may be, which Montenegrin women
still wear on state occasions. But these wares are
becoming less genuine with the increasing influx
of travellers, and ubiquitous Birmingham is gra-
dually creeping into the curio market. Neverthe-
less the marvellous embroidery of the country may
always be safely purchased, for it is practically
inimitable and absurdly cheap.
The principal square is near the centre of the
town, and in summer time shady acacia trees
around a plashing fountain render this a favourite
lounge. It resembled a quagmire the day after
our arrival, but the market is held here, and not-
withstanding the pouring rain I could scarcely
force my way through a busy throng of peasants
and townspeople. And here I witnessed a tragedy
CETTIGNE 45
(or rather its final scene), which caused so little
excitement that I am inclined to think that life
is valued almost as cheaply here as in China and
Japan. It occurred while I was idly watching
the crowd haggling with vendors of fish, fruit,
and vegetables. Suddenly, in the midst of the
clamour, a shot rang out, fired from a horse
pistol, to judge by the deafening sound of the
report. For a moment there was a startled
silence, and then I joined in a wild stampede to
an even more densely crowded portion of the
Square, where a wreath of grey smoke was still
curling into the air. It was impossible to approach
the spot or ascertain the cause of the disturbance,
until a lane was cleared through the people by
stalwart policemen, and through it appeared a
limp, lifeless form, carried on a wooden shutter.
The latter passed so rapidly that I could only
catch a glimpse of a white, bloodstained face
and the staring eyes of a corpse. Mistaking my
nationality, a bystander observed, in Eussian,
that the victim had met his death owing to a
feud which had existed for generations between
his family and that of his slayer. "It was not
murder," said my informant, "for the victim
carried arms, and was fool enough not to use
them." " And his assailant ? " I asked. " Nothing
will happen to him," was the reply. " Oh ! this
often happens here," added the man, turning
away with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders.
At first sight Cettigne appears to contain only
two buildings of any size or importance (one at
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each extremity of the town) which dwarf the
intervening structures into insignificance. The
former are truly palatial stone mansions of recent
erection so imposing that they are generally
taken for palaces by a stranger. But they are
merely the Russian and Austro-Hungarian Lega-
tions, whose respective Governments have spared
no expense in order to impress the natives, which,
however, they have entirely failed to do. The
new Palace (which comes next in size) is a modest,
unpretentious edifice, more like some prosperous
" bourgeois " residence at Brixton or Asnieres
than the home of a ruler. You can see into the
Royal apartments from the street or look into
the garden at the rear of the house, where
Prince Nicholas takes his post-prandial cigar
and siesta on summer evenings. A couple of
sentry-boxes on either side of the entrance,
with red and white stripes (the Montenegrin
colours), alone denote that this is not a private
house. The old Palace outside the town is now
used for Government offices, and is called the
Billardo a name derived from the fact that
at one time the only billiard- table in the country
was to be found within its walls. There was then
no carriage-road, and the table was carried up the
dizzy "ladder" by fifty men a feat of strength
which, at that time, was considered almost an
impossibility. I was told, however, that the
table more resembles a bagatelle-board than a
full-sized "Burroughes and Watts','' which rather
detracts from the credit of the performance.
o face page 46.
THE PRINCE OF MONTENEGRO. Photo by Giilli, Cettigne.
CETTIGNE 47
With the exception of our own gracious
Sovereign, there is probably no potentate in the
world so universally beloved by his people as
Prince Nicholas II. of Montenegro, and the secret
of his popularity lies chiefly in an absolute
simplicity of life and manner which appeals to
this rugged race of mountaineers. The relations
of Nikita (as he is affectionately called) towards
his subjects more resemble those of a paternal
English squire on the best of terms with his
tenants than the Head of a State, the occu-
pants of which are angels one minute and devils
the next. The ruler of the Black Mountain
is what the French call a Bon G-ar$on, but
one whose shrewdness and tact at home and
abroad have earned him the nickname of "The
Bismarck of the Balkans." And it needs a
clear brain and steady nerves to keep the helm
straight in this little Principality, which, after
finally disposing of one powerful enemy, finds
herself practically at the mercy of a doubtful
friend. Turkey is no longer looked upon here as
a foe, rather the contrary, but Austria is regarded
with far greater hatred than was ever displayed
towards the Porte, and has been so ever since
her hostile attitude towards Montenegro at the
Congress of Berlin. Russia, on the other hand,
is idolised throughout the Tsernagora, and por-
traits of the Tsar and Tsarina are as often met
with throughout the Principality as that of its
ruler.
The Prince is a tall, broad-shouldered man,
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with swarthy, handsome features and keen, grey
eyes ; a stately figure, as upright as a gun-
barrel, notwithstanding his sixty odd years.
When the " Gospodar " * walks abroad in
national costume he might pass for the
humblest of his subjects, for he strolls about
without state or ceremony and mixes freely
with the people. A regicide could kill him in the
street fifty times a day, but it is equally certain
that the assassin would be simultaneously torn
piecemeal. Nikita is said to know all his subjects
personally, and even if this be an exaggeration,
his Highness certainly makes no class distinctions,
and as readily lends his ear to the beggar in rags
as to the wealthy noble. A Parisian education
and frequent visits to Europe have not affected
this ruler's life of almost Spartan simplicity ;
and although he is a great smoker, generally
consuming about a hundred cigarettes a day, he
is very abstemious in other ways, and can still
remove a cigar from a friend's lips with a duelling
pistol at twelve paces. But this is scarcely sur-
prising in one who was once acknowledged as the
deadliest shot and finest horseman in this nation
of " Shikaris." Of recent years, however, Prince
Nicholas has abandoned sport for the more serious
affairs of state, with the result that at present
he is unquestionably the cleverest of the Balkan
sovereigns. He is also an author and playwright
of repute, one of his dramas, " The Empress of
the Balkans," having been successfully produced
* The title by which the Prince is generally addressed.
CETTIGNE 49
in Vienna. Next to Kussia, England is the
country of his preference, and his admiration
for the late Mr. W. B. Gladstone (who is here
called the " Saviour of the Balkans," and whose
death is still mourned throughout Montenegro)
amounts almost to worship. London impressed
the Prince more than any other European capital,
and the Grand Cross of the Victorian Order,
bestowed upon him by the late Queen Victoria,
is more prized than any of the numberless decora-
tions he has received from other sovereigns with
the exception, perhaps, of honours bestowed by
the Tsar. Even the latter is no greater autocrat
than his Montenegrin namesake, who rules his
country with a rod of iron, but with so little
formality that until a few years back Nikita
held levees and administered justice under the
spreading branches of a beech-tree in the Palace
Gardens.
Trying and eventful as the life of this remark-
able man has been, he has a keen sense of humour
and the spirits of a lad in his teens. An eye-
witness told me that at the public announcement
of Princess Helena's betrothal to the Prince of
Naples, her royal parent was seized by a dozen
brawny highlanders and " frog-marched " down
the main street of his capital, roaring with
laughter like a schoolboy ! On a recent occasion,
also, the Prince's love of a joke was shown
by his reply to a minister of one of the Great
Powers who, during a reception at the Palace,
was regretting that the exports of Montenegro
4
50 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
were so meagre and valueless. "Well, I don't
know," said the Prince, with a twinkle in his
eye; "what about my daughter?"
Ten years ago, any traveller in Cettigne had
only to call at the Palace to be received forthwith.
Since the marriage of Princess Helena, however,
there is more formality, and it now takes two or
three days to obtain an audience, which, however,
is never refused to the applicant whoever he may
be. For Prince Nicholas is always glad to hear of
visitors (especially English and French) to his
capital, and the comfortable hotel which is now at
their disposal was built partly by his desire. Less
than a century ago the old Palace served as an inn,
and in those days Court etiquette was very much
laxer than it is at present. The French ex-
plorer, Marnier, relates that, arriving there one
wet and stormy night, he supped and passed the
evening with his royal host in the kitchen, with
only one other guest, a tailor, who joined freely in
the conversation, while the Prince rose at intervals
and obligingly turned the Frenchman's boots and
socks which were drying by the fire !
The Grand Hotel was much older, but fully
as comfortable as the inn at Niegoutch indeed
the cuisine at the former would have passed
muster on the Paris boulevards. This is chiefly
owing to the fact that a few years ago members
of the diplomatic corps resided in the hotel,
and even now that legations have been built the
subordinate officials usually make it their head-
quarters. To dine, on the night of our arrival, in
CETTIGNE 51
travel-stained clothes at the same table with young
secretaries and attaches resplendent in purple
and fine linen was rather an ordeal, especially as
visitors here are still rare enough to excite uni-
versal attention and curiosity. It was edifying,
however, to hear the fate of Europe decided by
these ambassadors in embryo (as though Cettigne
were the hub of the diplomatic universe), and also
to learn that not a foreign minister in Cettigne
was fitted for the post which he occupied. Every
nation in Europe/ has its legation here with the
exception of Servia, for although King Peter
Karageorgevitch is a son-in-law of Prince Nicholas,
diplomatic relations between the two countries
ceased with the assassination of the late King and
Queen.*
Society here is mainly composed of Court and
diplomatic circles, so that the winter season,
which the Prince spends in the country and most
of the ministers on the Dalmatian coast, is a very
dull one. There is a pretty little theatre, occasion-
ally visited by wandering artistes, but it is closed
from October until May, so our evenings passed
drearily, for even had there been other places of
entertainment cabs here are a luxury of the
future, and even my old friend, Charles Hawtrey,
himself would not have tempted me out on foot
in that slush and darkness. Luckily the hotel
possessed a cafe and billiard-table, which was our
usual resort after dinner, and also a favourite
rendezvous of officers in the newly-formed army of
* It is said that these have now been resumed.
52 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Montenegro fine strapping fellows in a picturesque
uniform of blue, scarlet, and gold, not unlike that
of the French Zouaves. Before the Eusso-Turkish
War there was no regular army here every one was
a soldier, ever ready and eager to rally round the
colours in time of peril ; now there is a disciplined
force of thirty-six thousand men which comprises
eight brigades of infantry and eight batteries of
artillery, armed with modern rifles and fieldpieces,
for heavy guns, like cavalry, are useless here.
The fine barracks at Cettigne are kept as smart
and clean as any in England, and there is also
a military college with instructors who have
undergone a military training in France or Eussia.
Besides this permanent force, all able-bodied
Montenegrins attend a three months' training at
Cettigne and Podgoritza, one battalion being im-
mediately succeeded by another, so that the
country can call upon a powerful and efficient
reserve in the event of war. Most of the
veterans of '78 are opposed to this new order
of things, and sneer at drums and pipe-clay,
maintaining that mechanical drill is unfitted
to this mountainous land where battles have
always been won by guerilla methods. And some
of the senior officers of the recently organised
army agree with them, and told me as much.
Pleasant fellows were our military friends at
the Grand Hotel, many of whom belonged to
the Eoyal Bodyguard, and I can say the same
of Montenegrins of every class with whom I
came in contact, for they rival our own country-
CETTIGNE 53
men in manly qualities and excel the French
in politeness. If the Montenegrin has a fault
it lies in the combativeness and hasty temper
which seem to be his chief characteristics,
and which one could dispense with in people
who walk about with a portable armoury !
A chance word will sometimes convert a placid
and agreeable companion into a murderous mad-
man, as I found on one occasion when a young
officer, hitherto the soul of fun and friend-
ship, expressed a desire to curtail my existence
because I casually alluded to the Russian reverses
in Manchuria. My irate companion was even-
tually pacified, and as I was a foreigner and,
therefore, more or less a guest, all ended well and
we were again fast friends. Nor was he, perhaps,
so much to blame, for these people are born
fighters, and brought up from babyhood to despise
those who have not shown their mettle in per-
sonal combat or on the battlefield. During the
last war, Prince Nicholas forbade an old man of
eighty to join the ranks, which caused him such
grief and disappointment that he promptly drew
his revolver and shot himself. Even young
children are imbued with this warlike mania,
and when street boys quarrel they do not, like
our street arabs, throw stones and hint darkly
at each other's parentage. One simply says,
" Your grandfather died in his bed ! " and if
this be a horrible truth, the other slinks off,
crushed and humiliated ! To further illustrate
the patriotism and reckless bravery of this race
54 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
it is a well-established fact that only one
prisoner (out of more than six thousand slain)
was actually taken throughout the Eusso-Turkish
campaign.
CHAPTER IV
A DEIVE INTO THE INTERIOR
TOWARDS the end of our stay in Montenegro, clear-
ing skies and warmer weather enabled me to
inspect the capital at leisure, and to realise the
improvements made of late years by the clever
ruler of this little state. Cettigne is now con-
nected by telegraph with the outer world, and all
the towns (and many villages) of the interior, and
this and the postal arrangements are in every way
as well conducted as in Western Europe. Postage
stamps which bear the head of the reigning Prince
are a recent innovation. A newspaper, the Glas
Tsernagora (" Voice of Montenegro "), is pub-
lished weekly, but it is not of much account, and
the telegrams received by the Grand Hotel every
morning from a Vienna agency supply the latest
news. Finally we visited the prison, surely the
most extraordinary one in existence, for it had no
outer walls and apparently nothing else to prevent
the inmates from walking, unmolested, out of the
place. The few prisoners we saw, however,
seemed so contented with life and its surroundings
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that the thought of escape would probably never
enter their minds, the cells each containing eight
or ten men who had brought their goods and
chattels and made themselves thoroughly at home.
And well they might be, with a liberal diet wine
on certain occasions, cigarettes ad lib., and no
work of any description. As in Eussia the
criminal here is too well treated, the political
offender with undue severity, for to the latter class
Prince Nicholas shows no mercy. Out of perhaps
thirty prisoners only two wore chains, but these
men (one an Albanian) had murdered with robbery
as a motive. Vendetta assassins never wear fetters,
and there is no capital punishment here, for the
simple reason that death has no terrors for the
majority. Lifelong imprisonment (even of this
kind) is a far severer penalty.
The women's prison resembled an almshouse,
with open doors, in and out of which they strolled
unwatched and uncontrolled, although the warder,
who had accompanied us from the men's quarters,
gravely pointed out an imaginary boundary beyond
which they were " requested not to go " ! Neither
sex wore prison dress. I have visited penal estab-
lishments all over the world, from Sweden to
Sakhalin, but have never yet seen such a novel
and extraordinary place of detention as that gaol
at Cettigne !
Then came the hospital the only one in the
country but where operations are now carried out
with all the appliances of modern science, and
where patients are no longer tortured by unskilled
To face page 56.
THE " GUIDE.'
Photo by Author.
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR 57
operators as in the past. There are also excellent
colleges for both sexes, maintained by the state,
for education has made enormous strides here
during the past few years. Schools are now as
numerous as churches in the interior, and Mon-
tenegro possesses more of the latter, for her
size, than even Holy Russia.
It was our original intention to travel across
Montenegro into Servia, vid Bosnia or the Sandjak
of Novi Bazar, but this journey in spring-time is
next to impossible on account of snow-blocked
passes and flooded plains. August and September
are the best months for the trip, which must be
made on horseback (and sometimes afoot) across
a desolate region so sparsely peopled that natives
sometimes get off the track and perish of starva-
tion. Our project was soon noised abroad, how-
ever, and one morning an extraordinary individual
was announced, and offered his services as the
" One and only guide in Cettigne." This was an
aged, dissipated-looking individual, with shifty,
bloodshot eyes, dressed in a shabby tweed suit
several sizes too large for him. The " one and
only " addressed us in English, but although early
in the day, his strange behaviour was scarcely
consistent with a time-worn document which he
produced, describing him as " strictly sober."
Our visitor informed us that he was a " Greek
nobleman," which may have been correct (for I
have met queer specimens of the Hellenic peerage),
but at any rate he was as drunk as the proverbial
lord, and I dismissed him, after some difficulty,
58 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
with a couple of francs. We then watched him
from the window as he reeled down the street
and disappeared into the nearest wine-shop, pur-
sued in his erratic course by Mackenzie's Argus-
eyed bioscope.
Our time being limited, I resolved to travel as
far into the interior as the post-road would allow.
We accordingly set out one morning for Rieka,
near the shores of Lake Scutari, in the worst
thunderstorm I have ever experienced, accom-
panied by a blinding fall of snow. Never, even
in the Eastern Archipelago, have I heard such
deafening thunder, for one peal continued unin-
terruptedly for twenty-three seconds ! The road
from the capital to Rieka passes through some of
the finest scenery in the country, but heavy
snow obscured everything until we reached the
summit of the first range of hills around Cattaro.
Here there is a hut built by the Prince to enable
travellers to rest and enjoy in clear weather the
wonderful view. But I was more interested and
astonished at the sudden and complete change
of weather and surroundings which occurred at
this stage of the journey. Behind us lay Cet-
tigne, wreathed in mist and buried in snow,
under a grey and sullen sky. The latter, however,
lightened immediately overhead, and towards our
destination the heavens appeared blue and smiling
over a sunlit country fringed by Lake Scutari and
the snowy peaks of Albania. Half a dozen miles
distant lay the oasis of Rieka, a welcome patch
of green in this desert of grey boulders. It was
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR 59
like emerging from a dense and chilly London
fog into the warmth and brightness of a spring
morning in Monte Carlo. Furs and wraps were
discarded with every mile we travelled, for snow
had soon entirely disappeared while summer heat
had succeeded an Arctic temperature. Climate and
scenery had changed as rapidly as a transformation
scene, and with them the depression caused by a
week of dark days and stormy weather. At mid-
day we drove into Rieka, through pastures watered
by clear streams, and past herds of cattle grazing
in the long, rich grass. Women were working in
the vineyards around, and wild flowers bloomed
freely by the roadside, while little children threw
nosegays of violets at the carriage as we passed.
We might have been in Italy or Spain, indeed
in any country but stony, arid Montenegro !
Rieka is but a village, a row of forty or fifty
red-tiled houses with the usual pink or light blue
faades, built on the left bank of the river of the
same name which flows into Lake Scutari. Vine-
clad hills, recalling those of fair Provence, surround
the place, and a glorious day rendered it so attrac-
tive that I ceased to wonder that the Prince was
recently offered a fabulous sum for its acquisition
as a second Monte Carlo. But Nikita's reply was
brief and characteristic " I am Prince of Mon-
tenegro," he said, " not a keeper of gambling
hells ! "
It was market-day, and Rieka was crowded so
much so that from the fields across the river,
spanned by an old Turkish bridge, the uproar
60 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
sounded as that from a crowded racecourse.
And from here the brilliant, multi-coloured crowd
and droves of cattle ever on the move in that
little Eastern-looking village, with its verandas
and gaily striped awnings, formed indeed a
striking coup d'ceil.
We lunched in a vine-trellised balcony over-
looking the river, in a cottage which had never
been called an inn until the peasant-owner made
his first visit to Cettigne, a year before our visit.
Our host had then seen the Grand Hotel, and
being a man of resource, bought a sign-board on
his return home, with the result that the " Albergo
al Ponte " is now the recognised house of call
here. It only possessed two rooms (one occupied
by its owner and his family), but everything was
of scrupulous cleanliness and we fared well on a
delicious omelette, freshly-caught trout from the
Eieka, and a flask of wine, grown in a vineyard not
a mile away. Turkish coffee and a cigar concluded
the meal, and Mackenzie then left me to secure
" living pictures " in the market. But many of
his sitters were Albanians from over the border
sulky, sallow ruffians, armed to the teeth who
regarded my friend and his camera with no friendly
eyes, although the Montenegrins were, as usual,
only too willing to group themselves and move
about when requested to do so. The romantic
appearance of the latter has been marred of late
years by the habit of carrying huge cotton um-
brellas which scarcely tally with deadly weapons
and a warlike exterior. These are seldom seen
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR 61
in Cettigne or Rieka, for the sight of a "gamp"
infuriates the Prince as much as the caricatures
which occasionally depict him in the Vienna
papers.
His Highness resides here during the winter
months, and has built a palace (or rather villa)
with beautiful gardens where he can bask in a
June sunshine, while people in Cettigne (only
twelve miles away) are shivering over their wood
fires. The Prince was, unfortunately, indisposed
during our visit, but I was informed that an
interview would be granted me in the space of
three or four days. Time, however, would not
permit of the delay, but I shall always regret that
I was not privileged to make the acquaintance of
this truly distinguished monarch, or of the Crown
Prince Danilo, who was then absent from Mon-
tenegro, and whom the reader may have seen in
London on the occasion of the Diamond Jubilee.
Opinions differ in Montenegro as to the capabilities
of the heir to the throne, and some say that the
Western and advanced ideas of the latter may
not suit a people hitherto somewhat intolerant
of civilised customs. But the Crown Prince is a
sportsman and a fine shot, which atones for much in
this country, and also inherits some of his father's
tact and intelligence. There is no doubt that
Montenegro will remain loyal to the Petrovitch
dynasty, but the shoes of an unusually brave,
wise, and successful ruler like Prince Nicholas
must necessarily be hard to fill, especially after a
prosperous reign of over forty years.
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The oasis of Rieka is not far distant from that
of Podgoritza, but there is a barren strip between
them which recalls the poverty-stricken nature of
this land. In the poorer districts, the natives
often cultivate bits of soil no larger than a tea-
tray in the crevices of rock in order to obtain food
not that they require much, for even in pros-
perity the Montenegrin is a small feeder. Milk and
black bread are his staple diet, with meat only
once or twice a week, which, perhaps, accounts for
his nerves of steel and marvellous powers of en-
durance. Rieka is here considered a rich district,
for it produces wine, tobacco, and insect powder,
which is made from the wild Pyrethrum flower, and
largely exported to Europe, where it is sold as
" Persian Insecticide." Mackenzie opined that
all of it should be kept in the country, although,
personally, I suffered less here from vermin than
in Servia and Bulgaria. Dried fish is another
article of export, the " Yaguli," of which millions
ascend the Rieka river in winter.
Podgoritza, within a day's drive of Rieka, is the
granary of Montenegro and a prolific one, for
the plains around are watered by the Moratcha,
one of the largest rivers in the country. Besides
grain, this place is also the principal market
for wool, hides, tobacco, and beeswax. It is a
pretty little town of about seven thousand inhabi-
tants ; crenellated walls and towers, now in ruins,
show that it was once strongly fortified, for in
olden days this was the scene of many a desperate
struggle between the Cross and the Crescent.
MARKET PLACE, RIKA.
Photo bv Author.
MARKET PLACE, RIEKA.
Plioto by Author.
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR 63
Podgoritza still resembles a Turkish town, for
mosque and minaret have not yet entirely dis-
appeared, and many of the older houses have
windows with latticed screens which once con-
cealed fair inmates of the harem. Now a
yashmak is seldom seen, nor is it wanted,
for pretty faces are rare. One, however, would
certainly create a sensation in London and its
owner is Princess Mirko, the wife of Prince
Nikita's second son, who may be seen here most
afternoons driving out in the daintiest of Paris
gowns, which are sadly wasted on an unappreciative
peasantry. Princess Mirko is a Servian, and a
cousin of the late King Alexander of that country,
to whom she was once betrothed. Near Podgo-
ritza, by the way, are the remains of the ancient
Roman city of Dioclea, the birthplace of Dio-
cletian.
For a business town, Podgoritza has a dull
and sleepy appearance, but commerce can never
really prosper here until the entire country is
opened up by foreign capital and enterprise.
There are two reasons for this : the rooted dis-
inclination of the natives for work of any kind,
and the sterile nature of the country. The
Montenegrin says, "I am a warrior, and I
fight for my country, but do not soil my fingers
with trade;" the result of this being that the
latter, such as it is, is entirely in the hands of
Servians, Bulgarians, and Bosnians, who also per-
form most of the menial work in town and
village. I do not think that I ever met with,
64 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
or even heard of, a Montenegrin tradesman or
domestic servant. And yet no one is more anxious
to develop the mercantile resources of Montenegro
than its ruler, who, during the Berlin Congress,
devoted his diplomatic energies to the acquisition
of a Montenegrin outlet on the Adriatic, chiefly
with this object. But both Dulcigno and Anti-
vari are wretched harbours mere roadsteads
affording very risky anchorage in dirty weather.
Had they been landlocked lagoons, however, the
commercial lethargy of Montenegro would prob-
ably have remained as it was before the war.
One of the eight members of the council (which,
under the presidency of Prince Nicholas, governs
the country) told me that nothing can be done
until a good post-road connects the "Berda"
(or eastern district) with the sea, and this must
take at least three or four years to construct.
Once they become better known, the vast forests
and mineral wealth of the Berda must surely
attract foreign capital ; and as for labour, it will
be easily obtainable when the natives are better
acquainted with the value of money and the
advantages to be gained by thrift and industry.
Up till now a man with a yearly income of 50
has been looked upon as a millionaire in the
interior, although he is walking over mineral
wealth which would bring him in three times
that amount if he only chose to work! "At
present," said my friend, " our exports are valued
at two million florins a year and what exports !
with flea-powder as an important item ! Only
To face page 64.
THE CROWN PRINCESS OF MONTENEGRO. Photo by Gulli, Cettigne.
A DRIVE INTO THE INTERIOR 65
let experienced prospectors prove that we have
gold and silver in paying quantities (which I can
vouch for), valuable deposits of petroleum, and
coal (which is already being worked near Dul-
cigno), and I am convinced of a bright future for
Montenegro. Why, there are fortunes in timber
alone in the forests of the Berda ! " And my
friend was probably correct in all his assertions,
and also in stating that Prince Nicholas would
gladly welcome and assist mineral and mercantile
enterprise from any part of the world. But taking
into consideration the precarious position and wild,
impenetrable nature of this country, I fancy it
will be some time before its resources are deve-
loped to any great extent.
It was pleasant to return again to the capital
and find civilised comforts once more ; but passing
Rieka we regretfully left the big blue lake, flowers,
and sunshine to recross the dreary granite pass
and regain the snowy plateau, where the lights
of Cettigne twinkled in the dusk. My pocket
thermometer at midday registered 70 in the shade,
Fahr. ; and it was now, only a few hours later,
at freezing-point ! But Eastern Europe is a land
of quick changes climatic and otherwise ! A
bright fire and well-cooked dinner awaited us at
the Grand Hotel, and I called for some excellent
Saint-Estephe, for which the house was famous,
to dispel remembrance of the country wines,
which, I am bound to admit, strongly resemble
violet ink in hue and flavour. But Pietro, the
Servian waiter, was full of regrets. The Russian
66 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
attach^ had finished the last bottle that morning.
"Then," I asked, "you have no Bordeaux of any
kind left?" "Not a drop, Monsieur," was the
reply, and my repast was unavoidably washed
down with the cheerless ale of Adam. Next day
the same beverage accompanied my dejeuner,
when, toward its close, Pietro entered and un-
corked a bottle for my neighbour bearing the
attractive label "Medoc." "What did you
mean ? " I asked sternly, and suspecting collusion
with the diplomat; "What did you mean by
saying you had no Bordeaux last night ? "
" Madre di Dios ! " said poor Pietro, with un-
feigned dismay, "do you call that Bordeaux?
Why, we have dozens of that in the cellar!"
CHAPTEE V
EAGUSA
MONTENEGRO is no country for the sportsman in
quest of either big or small game. Both exist,
in the shape of bear, chamois, and wild boar in
the wilder parts of the country, and there are
plenty of duck and snipe on the lowlands
around the Albanian frontier. But one does not
travel so far afield for wild-fowl, and the diffi-
culties which must be overcome in order to find
the real hunting grounds are certainly not worth
the indifferent sport obtainable when they are
reached, after days, if not weeks, of discomfort
and privation. On the other hand, there is good
fly-fishing in the larger rivers, and in the neigh-
bourhood of Lake Scutari, but it is infinitely
better in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and can
there be enjoyed with greater ease and com-
fort owing to the more civilised nature of the
country.
Dalmatia, the next province on our way, is
probably better known to the reader than to an
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American lady I recently met in Paris, who
summed up the country, politically and socially,
as " The place where the dogs come from ! "
This is no doubt useful information, which I
may supplement by saying that this province
extends from Croatia nearly to the Albanian
frontier along the eastern shores of the Adriatic.
It partly separates Montenegro from the sea,
and Bosnia and Herzegovina restrict its western
borders. In shape Dalmatia resembles a closed
fan, gradually tapering to a point at its southern
extremity, and while its seaboard is about
250 miles, the country nowhere exceeds 50 in
breadth. Bosnia and Herzegovina are com-
paratively recent acquisitions of Austria ; but
the " White - Coats " annexed Dalmatia in the
latter part of the eighteenth century, and, save
for a brief interval (during the Napoleonic Wars
of 1805), have held it ever since.
There are two ways of reaching Ragusa from
Cattaro ; one is by land, along a strip of the
loveliest coast-scenery in the world, and the
other by sea a journey in either case of only a
few hours. We chose the former by reason of the
atrocious weather which pursued us from Cettigne,
until our little steamer anchored off the " Pearl
of the Adriatic," sleeping in the sunshine. Venice
has, perhaps, a prior claim to this romantic title,
but no Austrian will admit this, or that the Italian
city can compare with Ragusa in beauty and sur-
roundings. And I am inclined to agree with the
Austrian !
RAGUSA 69
A year ago had any one suggested Eagusa as
a winter resort, I should first have inquired where
it was, and, on hearing that it lay in Dalmatia,
have strongly suspected the speaker's sanity. The
very name of the country conjures up visions of
brigands, primitive travel, and squalid fare. We
live and learn ! The above conditions may exist
in the interior, but Eagusa itself has, at any
rate, one hotel as good as any to be found in
Cannes or Monte Carlo. Austrians have fre-
quented the place for years, and the " Imperial "
is crowded throughout the winter season with
the elite of Vienna and Hungary. For the
climate is perfect, and thousands of our country-
men who now annually revile the grey skies of
the Mediterranean, would do well to come here
for a change and enjoy the warmth and brilliant
sunshine unmarred by their usual attendant on
the French and Italian Eivieras a biting
" Mistral." Eain here is very unusual, and gales
are as rare as earthquakes in England. Com-
pletely sheltered from the north and east, Eagusa
lies, even in mid-winter, as snug and warm as
a babe in a cradle, while neighbouring dis-
tricts are swept by snowstorms and tempestuous
weather.
Viewed from the sea, and at first sight, the
place somewhat resembles Monte Carlo with its
white villas, palms, and background of rugged,
grey hills. But this is the modern portion of
the town, outside the fortifications, erected many
centuries ago. Within them lies the real Eagusa
70 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
a wonderful old city which teems with interest,
for its time-worn buildings and picturesque streets
recall, at every turn, the faded glories of this
" South Slavonic Athens." A. bridge across the
moat which protects the old city is the link
between the present and past. In new Eagusa
you may sit on the crowded esplanade of a fashion-
able watering-place ; but pass through a frowning
archway into the old town, and, save in the
main street, which has modern shops and other up-
to-date surroundings, you might be living in the
dark ages. For as far back as the ninth century
Ragusa was the capital of Dalmatia and an
independent Republic, and since that period her
literary and commercial triumphs, and the
tragedies she has survived in the shape of sieges,
earthquakes, and pestilence, render the records
of this little-known state almost as engrossing as
those of Ancient Rome.
Until I came here I had pictured a squalid
Eastern place, devoid of ancient or modern
interest ; most of my fellow-countrymen prob-
ably do likewise, notwithstanding the fact that
when London was a small and obscure town
Ragusa was already an important centre of com-
merce and civilisation. The Republic was always
a peaceful one, and its people excelled in trade
and the fine arts. Thus, as early as the fourteenth
century the Ragusan fleet was the envy of the
world; its vessels were then known as " Argusas "
to British mariners, and the English word
" Argosy " is probably derived from the name.
RAGUSA 71
These tiny ships went far afield to the Levant
and Northern Europe, and even to the Indies
a voyage fraught, in those days, with much
peril. At this epoch Eagusa had achieved a mer-
cantile prosperity unequalled throughout Europe,
but in later years the greater part of the fleet
joined and perished with the Spanish Armada.
And this catastrophe was the precursor of a series
of national disasters. In 1667 the city was laid
waste by an earthquake which killed over twenty
thousand people, and this was followed by a
terrible visitation of the plague, which further
decimated the population. Eagusa, however, was
never a large city, and even at its zenith, in
the sixteenth century, it numbered under forty
thousand souls, and now contains only about a
third of that number.
In 1814 the Vienna Congress finally deprived
the Eepublic of its independence, and it became
(with Dalmatia) an Austrian possession. Trade
has not increased here of recent years, as in
Herzegovina and Bosnia. The harbour, at one
time one of the most important ports in Europe,
is too small and shallow for modern shipping,
and the oil industry, once the backbone of the
place, has sadly dwindled of late years. Dal-
matia is a productive country, but its resources
are being less developed year by year on account
of the yearly increasing emigration of the natives
to the United States, to which great British
and German liners from Trieste convey them at
absurdly low rates. Thus in the villages around
72 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Eagusa young and able-bodied men are steadily
decreasing in number, and in one village I visited
only a dozen remained under the age of fifty
out of a population of over three hundred the
others having sailed away to try their luck in
the New World. A strong incentive to emigra-
tion is the beautiful palace built here by a Dal-
matian peasant who went to America twenty
years ago, struck oil (of a different kind to the
native article) and returned three years ago to
his native country, a multi-millionaire ! And,
strange to say, the latter returned to New York
immediately his mansion was completed and has
never returned. Large sums have been offered
to induce the wealthy and eccentric owner to
sell the place for a " Casino," but he stubbornly
refuses to dispose of it for that or any other
purpose.
Eagusa now having no harbour worthy of the
name, the traveller by sea must land at Gravosa
about a mile north of the old city. Not a room
was vacant in the fashionable " Imperial," so we
were compelled to put up at a second-rate inn,
kept by an aged Viennese Israelite, whose frayed
and greasy exterior was well in keeping with
the establishment. Gravosa is merely a suburb
of warehouses, shipping, and sailor-men, as un-
attractive as the London Docks, and the Hotel
Petko swarmed with mosquitoes and an animal
which seems to thrive and flourish throughout
the Balkan States the rat. Of course, according
to the landlord, this vermin never existed save
RAGUSA 73
in the imagination of his guests, and the Gravosan
Jew had conceived a novel and ingenious plan of
lulling their suspicions. Thus, in my foul and dusty
apartment was a mousetrap, placed, so that it
could not possibly escape notice, in the middle
of the room. Such an object is usually concealed
from the public gaze, and it was only late at
night that I found a reason for its display ; for
while I was writing, towards the small hours,
an enormous rat (which could have eaten the
mousetrap, wire and all !) crawled out from behind
the stove, and was shortly followed by another
and yet another until the ingenuity of the
management in accounting for nocturnal noises
became manifest. But we became accustomed
to rats in Servia, where in some of the wilder
districts they almost took possession of our
bedroom at night-time.
Gravosa is under a couple of miles from Eagusa,
and a short drive by the sea-shore, along a palm-
fringed road, with pretty, garden-girt villas on
either hand, brings us to the " Porta de Pille,"
or principal gateway. Here we leave our fiacre,
for wheeled conveyances are forbidden to traverse
these granite-paved streets, as smooth and spot-
less as a ball-room floor. Passing through a dark
archway (let into city walls which once excited
the admiration of Napoleon's generals) we enter
the "Stradone," or principal street, which bisects
the city, which latter, notwithstanding its great
age, is, without exception, the cleanest I have ever
seen. The Venetians ruled here for centuries, and
74 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
in olden days the place was a criss-cross of now
invisible canals. A French traveller's happy
impression of Eagusa was that of a charmant decor
d' 'opera comique ; and certainly castled walls
embedded in dizzy cliffs, quaint old buildings,
and towering campaniles, crowded into the narrow
space between rugged cliffs and a tiny blue har-
bour, are more suggestive of the theatre than
of a place on a line of railway. This is a city
of palaces, churches, and monasteries, and some
of its architecture is said to surpass in beauty
those even of Rome or Florence. The Rector's
Palace, for instance, is a perfect storehouse of
archaeological treasures, and dates from the four-
teenth century. Then there are the cathedral
and church erected to Ragusa's spiritual pro-
tector, St. Blaise, who once averted the fall of
the city before the Venetians. And talking of
St. Blaise, my countrymen must occasionally
form strange impressions of travel, judging from
a conversation I overheard between two young
Englishmen dining one evening at an adjacent
table. "Who on earth was St. Blaise?" said
one, immersed in the pages of a red "Baedeker."
"I don't know," said the other absently. "Did
not he once win the Derby? " If, therefore, the
patron saint of Ragusa be occasionally forgotten,
the equine son of Hermit and Fusee has at any
rate achieved immortality!
The old Custom House is perhaps the most
beautiful building in Ragusa, and is one of the
few which survived the terrible earthquake of
If
* 3
o
cu
RAGUSA 75
1667. The structure bears the letters "I.H.S."
over the principal entrance in commemoration of
this fact. Its courtyard is a dream of beauty,
and the stone galleries around it are surrounded
with inscriptions of great age, one of which
at once attracted the observant eye of Mackenzie.
" Pondero cum merces, ponderat ipse Deus,"*
read my friend, muttering, after a thoughtful
pause, " Then why did those Austrian thieves
at Gravosa charge me seven koronas for ten
cigars? "
A detailed description of the historical and
artistic treasures of Eagusa would take volumes,
and I must refer the reader in quest of further
information to the exhaustive and recently pub-
lished work of Signor Villari. I am (unfortu-
nately for myself) no judge or student of mediaeval
art, and must own that my favourite resort here
was the Dominican Convent, with its quiet, sunlit
cloisters, where an old stone well in the court-
yard was almost hidden in a wilderness of palms
and roses, and where the occasional clank of a
windlass, turned by a holy friar, alone disturbed
the drowsy stillness. An artist would revel in this
spot, and the wonderful stone pillars of great age
which surround this little oasis of peace and
greenery would afford a whole day's study to the
lover of antiquity.
But everything is delightful here, from the little
harbour, with its swarthy fishermen and cluster
* " As we weigh your goods, God holds the scales."
76 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
of striped lateen sails, to Napoleon's "Fort] Im-
perial," which at this distance looks like a white
pill-box perched on the summit of rugged San
Sergio. Ragusa is a Slav town, but although the
names of streets appear in Slavonic characters,
Italian is also spoken on every side, and the
" Stradone," with its arcades and narrow pre-
cipitous alleys at right angles, is not unlike
a street in Naples. The houses are built in
small blocks, as a protection against earthquake
the terror of every Ragusan (only mention the
word and he will cross himself) and here on a
fine Sunday morning you may see Dalmatians,
Albanians, and Herzegovinians in their gaudiest
finery, while here and there a wild-eyed Monte-
negrin, armed to the teeth, surveys the gay scene
with a scowl, of shyness rather than ill-humour.
Outside the cafd, on the Square (where flocks of
pigeons whirl around as at St. Mark's in Venice),
every little table is occupied ; but here the women
are gowned in the latest Vienna fashions, and
Austrian uniforms predominate. And the sun
shines as warmly as in June (on this 25th day
of March), and the Cathedral bells chime a
merry accompaniment to a military band; a sky
of the brightest blue gladdens. the eye, fragrant
flowers the senses, and the traveller sips his
Bock or Mazagran, and thanks his stars he is
not spending the winter in cold, foggy England.
Refreshments are served by a white-aproned
gar$on, and street boys are selling the Daily
Mail and Gil Bias, just as they are on the
RAGUSA 77
far-away Boulevards of Paris. One of the
charms of this place lies in its queer mixture of
mediaevalism and modernity. " Don't write about
Eagusa," said the only English lady I met here,
who (so far as England is concerned) had prac-
tically "discovered" the place, "or tourists will
flock here in crowds and spoil it. And I fear
that she was right.
Nevertheless, if you are a lover of Society (or
what passes for it in French and Italian winter
resorts) come not to Eagusa. For there is
little to do in the evenings, and the best Viennese
people (who alone come here) are averse (unlike
some of our countrymen) to making hotel
acquaintances. There are not even golf-links !
But, on the other hand, the lovely surroundings
afford some fresh and delightful excursion for
every day in the month. A pleasant drive is to
Ombla eight miles away where ruins of the
campaign of 1806 are still visible, and whence
deliciously pure water is conveyed by pipes to
Eagusa ; or walk towards evening to the old
Monastery of San Giacomo and enjoy a sunset
such as I have never seen equalled, even in the
Eed Sea or Arctic Ocean. Or, if you prefer it,
a steam launch will take you to the island of
Lacroma,* an Eden of woods and flowers, with
its palace once often visited by the ill-fated Arch-
* Eichard Cceur de Lion is said to have been wrecked on
this island on his return from the Crusades ; but this tradition
seems to lack authenticity.
78 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
duke Rudolph, but now converted into a mon-
astery after his son's tragic death by the Emperor
Francis Joseph. A sad interest lingers around
Lacroma, for here Maximilian, Emperor of
Mexico, also resided just before his last and
fatal journey. You may roam at will through
his late Majesty's apartments, which still contain
many melancholy relics, such as books and pic-
tures, many of the latter representing the late
Queen Victoria and the Royal Family of England.
From the windows of the Palace is a glorious
view of the distant city seen across a wilderness
of forest, now thickly sprinkled with white
heather, which grows here with unusual luxuri-
ance. Flowers, too, grow like weeds in the
beautiful but neglected gardens below, where a
marble statue of Maximilian is pointed out by
a holy friar. Here also am I surprised, or
rather shocked, to find a bronze bust of Mr.
James Gordon-Bennett (of New York Herald
renown), presented by that gentleman himself
(for reasons not specified). A more fitting place
might surely have been found for this work of
art, which is certainly out of keeping with the
romantic and historical associations of this lonely
and beautiful island.
Ragusa is but a three days' journey from London,
the last twenty-four hours being by sea from
Trieste through smooth, landlocked fjords, where
the worst sailor need fear no ill effects. But
Ragusa, to be seen at her best, must be visited
without delay ; for sooner or later the Austrian
ace paf;e 78.
A BIT OF "OLD" RAGUSA.
Photo by Author,
RAGUSA 79
Eiviera must become more widely known, and
as my English friend prophesied, crowds of
tourists will then rob the place of much of its
existing charm and novelty.
CHAPTEE VI
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA
TWENTY years ago the territory of the Herzegovina
(which must be crossed to reach Bosnia from the
sea) was so wild and perilous that few travellers
ventured into the interior of the country without
good reason and a powerful escort. There were no
roads, in those days, worthy of the name. You
could travel on wheels (but not springs) from
Mostar, the capital, to the Adriatic coast, along an
execrable track carelessly laid over dizzy heights,
scaling wall-like chasms, and finally following the
banks of the rapid Narenta Eiver down to the sea.
Up north, towards the Bosnian frontier, it was
easier travelling, but, on the other hand, you were
more likely to get your throat cut ! Contrast this
with to-day, when you may enter a railway car at
Eagusa, and leave it, a few hours later, at Mostar,
after traversing some of the finest scenery in the
world (Herzegovina has been rightly called the
Turkish Switzerland) under the most luxurious
conditions ! The line skirts the left bank of the
Narenta (a clear, swift stream, all cascades and
waterfalls, and teeming with trout), which
meanders now through rocky defiles and valleys
80
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 81
ablaze with pink and white blossom, now across
green stretches of plain, rich in rye and tobacco.
About midway we reach Petchilitz, a cluster of
grey houses, red roofs, and minarets, perched on
a rock which rises a sheer hundred feet from the
water. On the summit is a ruined, moss-grown
fort, with rusty cannon still peering from its
embrasures. The place looks weird and romantic ;
and well it may, for Petchilitz was once the chief
stronghold of brigandage in the Herzegovina,
and caravan-men went round miles to avoid it.
To-day I can placidly survey the place while
discussing an excellent meal in the train.
This trifling incident only serves to show what
has been done on a gigantic scale throughout the
Austrian Balkans since the occupation of 1878.
We in England can form no conception of the
marvellous transformation effected here by Austria
in that short space of time, nor even faintly realise
the almost magical rapidity with which the recently
barbaric provinces of Herzegovina and Bosnia have
been converted into growing centres of commerce
and civilisation. While travelling from Eagusa to
the Servian frontier, I met, in every town or
village, with some fresh and wonderful proof that
the Austrians (generally regarded as a stay-at-
home nation) are really the finest (and quickest)
colonisers in the world. For not only do they
excel in the administration of state affairs under
novel and complicated conditions, but also in that
close attention to details which affects even the
personal comfort of travellers. Mr. Gladstone once
6
82 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
declared that "no man could put his finger on
the map of Europe and find a place where Austria
had done good," but I feel confident that the great
and lamented statesman would modify his opinion
at the present day. Even the stations on the
Bosnia and Herzegovina Eailway are as trim
and well kept as those of the Fatherland, and
the corridor trains are, although slower, infinitely
more comfortable. Fares are ridiculously cheap,
even first-class, but the natives here generally
travel in fourth-class carriages or rather open
trucks as on the Turkish lines.
Mostar, chief city of the Herzegovina, still
retains much of its ancient and Oriental charm.
The Teutonic element is confined to a couple
of white, glary streets, a modern hotel, a public
garden with a few dusty shrubs and dilapidated
bandstand, and the military barracks. Elsewhere
in Mostar you are in Turkey, and are jostled in
the dark, narrow streets by the same Jews, infidels,
and heretics as in the bazaars of Stamboul. The
minaret in Bosnia is fast disappearing, but here
you may still hear the evening cry of the
" muezzin " and see solemn, white-turbaned Turks
squatting in dark doorways and cursing the
advent and rule of the " Giaour." Everything
around is purely Eastern, from the mud and filth
underfoot to the mangy street curs, and from the
chink of metal water-goblets to that subtle Eastern
odour (a characteristic blend of spices, tobacco
smoke, leather, and sweetstuff) which permeates
every bazaar from Kangoon to Ragusa.
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 83
Mostar has always been famous for its
picturesque surroundings, but the place derives
its name ("Most" bridge, and "Star," old)
from an old Roman * bridge of incomparable
beauty which spans the rushing Narenta, and
which is worth travelling many weary miles to
see. The origin of the structure is shrouded in
mystery. Some say that it dates only from the
Turkish era and is the work of a Dalmatio-
Italian architect and this theory is strengthened
by the fact that the only inscription as yet
discovered on the edifice is a Turkish one close
to the water's edge. On the other hand, an
eminent Austrian archaeologist has decided that
the bridge is undoubtedly the work of the Romans
about the year A.D. 72 ; and this view is the one
generally accepted by authorities on the subject.
In any case, all antiquarians are agreed that the
symmetry of its single arch, 80 feet in height,
is unequalled throughout the world. There are no
fewer than thirty mosques in this town of under
twenty thousand inhabitants (of whom perhaps
half are of the Catholic or Orthodox faith), but,
although there are domes of gorgeous splendour
and minarets of rare delicacy, most of the interiors
are mere whitewashed barns. The native quarters
are full of novelty and interest, and also the
people ; but my " Kodak " created as great a scare
here as amongst the Austrian authorities at
Cattaro, and Mackenzie was compelled to retreat
in haste before a menacing crowd of Herzegovinians
* Under the Eomans, Mostar was known as " Andetrium."
84 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
who apparently could not appreciate the honour of
figuring in a living picture ! This was annoying,
for there was an unusual amount of interesting
matter for the camera especially the Moslem
women of the place, who wear not only the usual
yashmak, but in addition to it a long, black gown
with a hideous cowl peculiar to Mostar, and to
be seen in no other Mahometan country through-
out the world. The effect produced by these
sable-clad forms flitting silently through the
streets was weird and uncanny even in bright
sunlight, and more suggestive of the gruesome
Italian "Brethren of Death," than of the pretty
woman whom these shroud-like garments must,
occasionally, have concealed. Polygamy is now
greatly (and voluntarily) restricted in the
Austrian Balkans, where even rich men are
generally content with four or five wives at the
most. This perhaps accounts for the extra
precautions in veiling their women from the
prying gaze of the garrison, and of other
dissolute infidels. The former, however, appeared
to be readily consoled by the Herzegovinian ladies
of Mostar, who are justly renowned for their
good looks, and who, being Christians, were not
burdened with cowls or an unusual amount of
shyness !
The hotel in Mostar was a revelation. We
had expected to find a miserable Turkish Jchan,
but were ushered into luxurious apartments, while,
at first sight, the midday table d'hote, in its
spacious and glittering Speise Saal, more
A VEILED WOMAN OF MOSTAR.
From a Photo.
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 85
resembled a military banquet than a humble
repast at two florins a head vin compris. For
nearly every one was in uniform, from the grizzled
veteran with beribboned tunic down to the latest-
joined schoolboy as yet ill at ease in the light
blue and silver of the Austrian hussar. The few
commercial gents of Jewish exterior who occa-
sionally joined the repast were calmly ignored by
the military (for the Semitic race is not popular
here) ; but we were warmly welcomed, as are
most Englishmen throughout the Austro-
Hungarian Empire. Those were merry meals,
for some of these gay hussars were as familiar
with Piccadilly as with the Graben, and had
played polo and performed "between the flags"
in England. I have been the guest of regiments
in all parts of the world from Highlanders and
Ghoorkas in Malta and the East, to French
Chasseurs and Eussian Cossacks in Tonkin and
Siberia, but for true hospitality the Austrian
Army almost excels our own, which says a great
deal ! But you must be an Englishman to enjoy
. it other nationalities and, of course, Jews (in all
classes of life) are severely tabooed, or were, at
any rate, by the beaux-sabreurs we met in Bosnia
and Herzegovina.
Although its suburbs remain Oriental, and
therefore picturesque, Mostar has no bazaar
worthy of the name. This was not the case a
century back, when the inlaid weapons here
rivalled those of Damascus, and priceless treasures
from the Far East were displayed where now
86 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
are only sold cheap Vienna and Birmingham
goods. In a few years Mostar will become a
commonplace German town, of which the two
glary thoroughfares aforementioned, and a new
and hideous iron bridge, which now spans the
river a short distance above the beautiful Roman
structure, form the nucleus. Many Herzego-
vinians affect to dislike the Austrian occupation,
having probably forgotten the cruelty and oppres-
sion they suffered under Turkish rule. The place
is still shown here where the infamous Ali Pasha
had the outer walls of his residence lowered in
order that he might witness the impalement of
two hundred Christians ; but although this
occurred only fifty years ago, a Mostar merchant
whose acquaintance I made in the hotel, averre
that his country was happier and more prosperous
then than under Francis Joseph I. But I
was told by the Governor that this was merely
a " pose " assumed by many Herzegovinians
of the better class, and that they, like the
peasantry, would soon cry out at any likelihood
of a return to the barbarous Turkish regime, when
even wealthy Christians were robbed and sub-
jected to every indignity, while the poorer classes
were treated as mere beasts of burthen. Never-
theless the Austrian forces met with a fierce
resistance before Mostar was finally occupied in
1878, when even women and little children fired
upon the invaders from the windows of their
houses. Many of the wealthier inhabitants fled
across the border into Montenegro, where they
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 87
are living at the present day, in comparative
poverty, although the trade of Mostar has greatly
increased since the occupation, and life and
property are far more secure here than in any
part of the wild Black Mountain.
Although its surroundings are picturesque there
is little in Mostar itself to attract or detain a
stranger. My favourite spot was the old Roman
bridge which in the morning was generally
crowded with an ever- shifting crowd of strange
faces and stranger costumes. On market-days
caravans of horses, mules, and donkeys, laden
with produce, and herds of sheep and cattle
rendered the passage across somewhat risky, and
once I was nearly jostled over the low parapet and
into the torrent below. And what a babel of
tongues ! Turkish, Greek, Serb, Albanian, and
Croatian even a species of Lingua-Franca which
passes for Italian on the Dalmatian coast. The
costumes would have supplied material for a
dozen brilliant ballets ranging from the seedy
frock-coat and fez of the modernised Turk to the
real thing from Albania the swarthy, stalwart
savage in gaudy rags, with bright knives and fire-
arms. Occasionally the black cowl of a Moslem
woman would flit hurriedly by, as if to escape
observation, but no shyness appeared to trouble
the Christian fair sex, easily distinguished by their
gowns of white cloth and black embroidery, heavy
silver ornaments, and flower-bedecked hair. The
ladies of Mostar are renowned for their beauty,
and some would undoubtedly have been pretty
88 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
but for the indiscriminate use of rouge and
henna. An Austrian officer told me that dur-
ing the races (recently organised by the garrison)
the old bridge is a sight to be remembered, and
that the day rarely passes without a severe acci-
dent occasioned by the dense crowd. The races
themselves must also be worth seeing, judging
from the fact that, the preceding year, the vener-
able winner of the principal event had been ridden
by a jockey nearly seventy years of age ! And
although the totalisator paid out only ten florins
in all, both horse and rider were repeatedly kissed
by the delighted crowd on returning to scale !
Herzegovinians are even more superstitious, if
possible, than Italians. No man, woman, or child
would dream of stirring abroad without one or
more of the charms, which have a ready sale in
the bazaar. These talismans mostly consist of
gold and silver crosses and stars, death's-heads in
ivory, tiny tortoises, rabbits in cornelean, coral
hands against the Evil Eye, and innumerable
others, and the amulet worn during life is always
buried with the wearer in order to ensure a safe
passage across the Styx. Nor is this practice
confined to Herzegovinians, for nearly every
Austrian officer I met here wore a fetish
which he would probably have scorned to do at
home. It is not surprising, therefore, that the
superstition regarding vampires should have
reached here from the adjacent country of Servia,
the land of its birth.* In Herzegovina a vampire
* Serb = Wampir.
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 89
is said to be the soul of a dead man, which leaves
his grave at night-time to suck the blood of its
living victim. I was told quite seriously that
when one of these monsters was exhumed near
Belgrade it showed every sign of life, and was
sleeping and breathing as peacefully as the man
had done before his death, a century before ! This
occurred thirty years ago, and according to custom
the corpse was decapitated, and a stake driven
through the body, which was then burnt the
grave being purified with water and vinegar. A
gaunt, cadaverous individual who frequented the
Hotel Cafe" at Mostar, was pointed out to me as
the victim of a vampire's nocturnal visits, in con-
sequence of which he would after death become
one himself. My informant was a grey-haired
major, whom I deeply offended by suggesting that
indigestion and its kindred ailments sometimes
produce an unnatural pallor. But the major was
a Hungarian, where this superstition is almost as
prevalent as in White Eussia, Poland, and Servia,
and he therefore received the suggestion with silent
contempt.*
A pleasant stay was made here, for the
country around it has many attractions, both from
a picturesque and archaeological point of view.
Agriculture has made tremendous strides within
the past decade, and the villainous concoction
once produced in the adjacent vineyards and called
* An interesting account of a vampire may be found in a
work called " In a Glass Darkly," by Sheridan Le Fanu.
90 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
wine is now rendered, by modern methods, as
sound and drinkable as light hock or claret.
And it was pleasant, after expeditions into the
country, to return at night to a decent hotel,
instead of to the filthy Turkish inn which only a
few years back formed the sole accommodation to
be found here. But luxurious as was the Mostar
hotel in other respects its bathing accommodation
was certainly restricted. When returning chilled
to the bone after a long day's shooting in the rain,
I asked for a hot bath ; it was brought me but in
the shape of a large biscuit tin, which still bore
traces of the familiar tri-coloured labels issued by
a famous Reading firm !
A delightful drive or ride is the one to Blagaj,
the ancient capital of Herzegovina, now in ruins.
Near here the little Buna river flows from a rift
in a mountain of limestone, its blue waters issuing,
apparently, from the bowels of the earth. No one
has ever summoned courage to ascend this sub-
terranean stream ; indeed, it would be impossible,
for a glimpse into the gloomy cave and surging
torrent reveals jagged stalactites descending from
the roof to within a few inches of the water. It is
said that this stream is merely a continuation of
another which enters the earth (as rivers have a
way of doing in these parts), and disappears some
twenty miles away to the northward. This is
probably the case, and, as our guide gravely
remarked, the theory is proved by the following
incident, which is said to have occurred in the
old Turkish days : An aged worthy of Blagaj,
VKII.ED WOMEN OUT WALKING.
MOSTAR.
Photo by Author.
THROUGH HERZEGOVINA 91
while fishing in the Buna, beheld his son's walk-
ing-staff floating down stream, and afterwards
found that the lad, a shepherd, had lost it in
the Sakomka river, which disappears from view
on the other side of the mountain range. This
opportunity was not lost upon the old gentleman,
who craftily arranged that every day a sheep
should be killed by the boy and cast into the
underground current, to be secured by his father
when it reached the open waters of the Buna.
But the owner of the fold discovered the fraud,
and one day no sheep, but the headless body of the
shepherd, appeared on the surface of the stream
before the horror-stricken father."
Herzegovina is essentially an agricultural pro-
vince, and the breeding of cattle and tobacco
planting are the chief occupations of its people.
Its mineral wealth is insignificant as compared
with Bosnia, but I should add that Herzegovina
has only as yet been very superficially explored in
this respect. The climate is delightful there is
a very slight snowfall although in summer it is
often too hot to be pleasant, the thermometer
sometimes reaching 98 Fahr. in the shade. The
Narenta Valley is the most fertile, and here maize
and tobacco grow like weeds, and grapes, olives,
and figs flourish with Southern luxuriance. Sport,
so far as shooting is concerned, is poor, but in the
Buna, as in most streams in Herzegovina, there is
excellent trout-fishing as yet unpreserved, but
scarcely likely to remain so. Living in Mostar is
cheap and good, and the cost of travel very trifling
92 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
compared to other countries ; so that a man might
do worse than bring his rod here for a few weeks in
the proper season, especially as many parts of
Bosnia afford the same sport and equal facilities
for its attainment.
MAGLAJ.
A BOSNIAN FORTRESS.
Photo by StudnicM, Serajevo.
CHAPTEE VII
MODERN BOSNIA *
HAD the railway from Mostar to Serajevo (which
was built in 1891) been constructed in Western
Europe, it would undoubtedly have been the talk
of the world ; for surely no line was ever laid
across so difficult a piece of country. In places
whole cliffs have been blasted away to enable the
metals to follow a narrow pathway with granite
walls and a nasty precipice on either side. As
the engine creeps carefully over the slender iron
bridges towards the summit you may look down
from your carriage window into a thousand feet
of space, and feel thankful that cog-wheels are
beneath you, for otherwise any hitch with the
brakes might cause a frightful accident. At times
the track is so tortuous that an engine-driver may
glance across a chasm and without looking back
see the rear van winding around a corner. The
speed is slow and sure ; seventy odd miles in about
eight hours ; but with those terrific curves and
* The provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina are amal-
gamated together for administrative purposes by the Austrian
Government.
94 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
gradients it would be quite impossible to cover the
distance safely in less time.
The line traverses a country as fertile as it is
picturesque, for the valleys of the Ivan-planina
range are one long panorama of arable, pasture, and
forest lands, which every year become better culti-
vated and more densely peopled. At present timber
and plums are the chief products of this district,
large quantities of the latter being exported to
India and the United States. " Slivovitch," the
favourite liqueur throughout the Balkans, is made
from this fruit, and is almost as potent, if not quite
as nasty, as Eussian vodka. But in a few years
tobacco, excellent of its kind, will be an important
industry in this part of Bosnia, and the Austrian
Government wisely affords every assistance to its
growers and retains the monopoly. The Bosnian
tobacco is not unlike Turkish in flavour, but is at
present rather coarse a defect which, in time, will
no doubt be remedied. Of minerals, gold, silver,
copper, and iron are known to exist in various parts
of Bosnia, and our engine consumed coal of fair
quality from a mine lately opened near Mostar.
The fare, first class, from Mostar to Serajevo is
about ten shillings, which is certainly moderate
considering the luxurious conditions under which
it is accomplished. When crossing the White
Pass by rail in Alaska, a couple of years ago,
some of the gradients made my blood run
cold, but they were not as bad as that on the
Serajevo Railway. But in Alaska trains are run
over the mountains in a careless, happy-go-lucky
MODERN BOSNIA 95
manner that would make an Austrian railway
official's hair stand on end. Sheer luck has
hitherto prevented disasters on the White Pass
line, but on the Serajevo-Mostar system unceasing
care and attention to the minutest details render
an accident next to impossible. Breakdowns,
however, do occasionally occur, and some trifling
repairs to our engine necessitated a slight delay.
This fortunately took place near Yablanitsa, a
health resort which the Austrian Government has
established in one of the wildest gorges of the Pass,
and where we found a comfortable hotel with
charming surroundings. In civilised Europe
Yablanitsa would be a gold-mine to the proprietors,
with its pure mountain air and glorious scenery ;
but as it was, we were the sole occupants of the
spacious dining-room with its marvellous view and
dozens of ghostly, unoccupied tables ready laid,
but vainly awaiting occupants. In summer-time,
however, the place is often crowded, and the
visitors' book showed that English tourists had
once got as far as this from Eagusa one of the
few occasions upon which we ever heard of, much
less saw, any compatriots between the Adriatic
and Bukarest. As usual, my countrywomen had
not been content to inscribe their names, but,
inspired no doubt by the romantic scenery, had
recorded their impressions in poetry of their
own ! Their effusions reminded me of the elderly
English spinster who penned the following lines in
a visitors' book on the Lake of Como :
" On the lake of Come,
I hope to find a home ! "
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But a facetious fellow-guest secretly altered the
final "e" of each line into the letter " o," and I
draw a veil over subsequent events.
With Serajevo I was disappointed, partly be-
cause its beauties had been exaggerated, partly
on account of its prim German appearance, which
is quite out of keeping with this picturesque
Eastern land. A citadel and fortifications crown
the heights, but below them the place seems as
incongruous here as would a Turkish town, sud-
denly dumped down on the banks of the Spree.
The Franz Josef Strasse, for instance, has its
hotels, clubs, shops, and theatres, and looks
just like a bit of Vienna or Berlin. Of the
old Bosna-Serai, or " city of palaces," only a
few mosques are left, and a bazaar, which is
gradually being absorbed into the modern town.
It forms a continuation of the aforementioned
Franz Josef Strasse ; and to walk suddenly
from the latter, with its handsome buildings and
street cars, into the dim, mysterious oasis which
still remains here of Oriental life, was like entering
some barbaric show at Earl's Court from out of
the busy London streets. But if the Austrian be
not loved (as he certainly is not) by Bosnians, the
latter are wary enough to see that trade has vastly
improved under the new regime. Also the popu-
lation has largely increased, for the capital now
contains over 40,000 inhabitants. Of these, about
17,000 are Mahometans and about 11,000 and
6,000 belong to the Catholic and Greek Churches
respectively. The remainder are Jews a Spanish
MODERN BOSNIA 97
branch of the race whose ancestors fled here in
the sixteenth century from the terrors of the
Inquisition. Of late years, thousands of German
and Polish Israelites have invaded the towns
of this province and to such an extent that the
authorities now contemplate restrictive measures
but from these the Spanish Jews keep strictly
aloof, both commercially and socially, maintaining
that the intruders come of an infinitely inferior
stock to themselves. Moreover, while the new
arrivals from Western Europe are universally de-
tested, the Spaniards live in perfect peace and
harmony with the Christian and Mussulman popu-
lation. They speak a kind of Spanish patois very
melodious, and so far as business is concerned,
probably very useful, for no one else in the place
can understand it ! That they are prosperous is
shown by the clean and orderly appearance of the
Jewish quarter, and the handsome synagogue,
which cost some millions of guldens, and the towers
of which are visible for miles around the city.
In 1511, Serajevo was merely a Turkish fortress
surrounded by a few wooden huts, which formed
the nucleus of the city of to-day. It has always
been a fruitful breeding-place of conspiracies and
revolts, first against the Turks, and in later years
against the Austrian invaders, and the place was
not occupied by the latter in 1878 without great
loss of life on either side. It is said that the waters
of the Miliatchka river, which runs through Sera-
jevo, were red with blood before it was taken,
and tnany of the buildings still bear traces of the
7
98 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
furious bombardment by means of which General
Phillipovitch eventually silenced the Bosnian
batteries.
Whatever the bazaar of Bosna-Serai may once
have been, it is now dirty, dull, and uninteresting.
As in Teheran, the costliest wares are only pro-
duced when there is a serious prospect of doing
business and the Bosnian merchant utterly de-
clines to haggle over a deal, be it important or
otherwise. It is " take it or leave it," and
to either course he is generally supremely in-
different. As in Stamboul, each street in the
Serajevo " Bezestan " has its distinctive trade.
The local embroidery, silver filigree work, and
inlaid steel, are fairly cheap, but, on the other
hand, cannot be called artistic or even pleasing
to the eye, besides which many of the goods
are rubbishy German imitations. As a rule, the
only genuine articles here are articles of copper
work, or of black wood inlaid with silver, the latter
very beautiful. But the stores for the common
necessaries of life seemed to be doing the best trade,
which does not say much, for although modern
Serajevo teems with commercial activity, business
in the native quarter is conducted with a lazy
indifference engendered of centuries under Ottoman
rule. For instance, there are only four working
days in the week for the Bosnian : Friday,
Saturday, and Sunday being Sabbaths (and,
therefore, days of rest) apportioned respectively
to the Christian, Mahometan, and Jew ! On
work-days the " Bezestan " swarmed with strange
"o face page
A BOSNIAN WARRIOR.
From a Photo.
MODERN BOSNIA 99
nationalities, Bosnians, Croatians, Servians, Dal-
matians, Greeks, and Turks. The " Tziganes," or
gipsies, were also very numerous, and here do not,
as usual, earn money as musicians, but as iron
and brass workers. Socially, they are looked down
upon by all other races, chiefly on account of their
women, whose mode of life was indicated by brazen
manners, rouged faces, and a profusion of cheap
jewelry.
I have not, in the above census, included the
garrison, which is over three thousand strong a
large percentage, for every third person in the street
seemed to be in uniform. Cafds, of course, abound,
also " Bierhalles " ; and the theatre is generally
occupied by some opera or comedy company from
Austria, the winter season especially being one
round of dances, dinners, and receptions. In
summer-time, when the heat and dust of the
city become unbearable, Ilidje, about nine miles
away, is the favourite resort of wealth and
fashion. A branch line of the Bosnian Eailway
runs to this pretty little watering-place, the sulphur
baths of which were much frequented by the
Turks, and discovered by the Eomans long before
them. Of late years a number of villas have
sprung up around the town, which formerly con-
sisted of three primitive inns and a restaurant.
Now people come from Belgrade, and even from
Sofia, to drink the waters and enjoy life, and
during the race week, when the " Serajevo Derby "
is the attraction, not a room is vacant in the
place. Falconry was once the favourite sport
100 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
here amongst the jeunesse doree, but lately pigeon-
shooting has taken its place and golf-links are to
follow. Imagine English jockeys, " caddies," and
petits chevaux, almost within sight of the ancient
and venerable walls of Bosna-Serai !
Incessant rain prevented our riding out to the
Observatory (the only one in the Balkans), which
is well worth a visit. From here there is a mag-
nificent view from a peak 6,000 feet high, and on a
clear day even the distant ranges of Montenegro
are visible to the naked eye. But it is a two days'
journey from Serajevo on horseback along rough
mountain paths, and although there is a rough
shelter on the summit for the accommodation of
travellers, the game, considering the wet weather,
was hardly worth the candle. So we roamed
about the city and explored its mosques ; but most
of them are barn-like buildings, plain and un-
attractive inside and out. Perhaps the "Begova
Djamia," which dates from the sixteenth century,
is the finest, but even this would scarcely impress
a stranger acquainted with the places of worship in
Cairo or Constantinople. Some of the latter here,
however, were surrounded by quiet, shady gardens,
where it was pleasant enough to stroll about on a
warm day and examine the curious old inscriptions
on the fez-topped tombstones. How is it that
Mahometan cemeteries are always less gloomy and
depressing than the places where Christians lay
their dead ? But the finest view of the city was
obtainable from the Jewish cemetery, on the slope
of a neighbouring hill, and it was worth the stiff
MODERN BOSNIA 101
climb to come here at sunset, and look down
upon Serajevo, its lights twinkling like diamonds
through the violet mists of evening, while the still-
ness was alone broken by the muffled murmur of
the town, and the weird cry of muezzins from
a hundred minarets. Occasionally a bugle-call
from the barracks or the clash of trucks from
the station would reach the ear, but otherwise
there was nothing to suggest that a commonplace
German town, and not the ancient Turkish strong-
hold, lay glittering at our feet.
And yet although mediaevalism is mentally
attractive, civilisation is certainly a physical bless-
ing, especially in the Near East. Serajevo, for
instance, was formerly a nest of disease, for the
broad but shallow Miliatchka (or the " Gently-
whispering") formed its main drain, which in
summer sometimes ran dry for weeks together.
Sewage was then thrown into the streets, and
the fruitful harvest of cholera and fever which
followed this proceeding may be imagined. Now
there is no healthier or better drained town in
Europe, at any rate in the modern quarter. In
olden times Bosnia was the stepping-stone for
cholera and the plague to Western Europe from
the East, and in 1741 the latter caused fearful
ravages throughout the country. This is scarcely
to be wondered at, for in those days the sick were
at the mercy of native doctors, who treated the
disease internally with boiled violet leaves, and
outwardly by magic spells and violent " massage."
The clothes, &c., of the sick were soaked in a
102
river or running stream for three or four days,
while prayers were said over them, which naturally
spread the infection with frightful rapidity. In
1865 cholera broke out, but by this time the city,
although still under Ottoman rule, had been pro-
vided with European doctors, and fortunately so,
for even this visitation carried off nearly 40%
of the entire population ! The first hospital
was now erected, and the sick properly tended,
so that although there have been three recurrences
of the epidemic in recent years, the mortality has
not been anything like so excessive as it was.
Other diseases prevalent here at certain seasons
of the year are typhoid fever, dysentery, and
measles, but small-pox has been nearly stamped
out by vaccination. Leprosy, however, still exists,
as a short walk through the " Tsharshija," one of
the native quarters, will conclusively prove. But
there are now several free hospitals both for
natives and Europeans, one of which, the " Cen-
tral," is an admirably conducted establishment
for surgical and medical cases. It is also pro-
posed to found a special department for the
1 Pasteur " treatment of hydrophobia, which is
very prevalent here, not only on account of home-
less, starving curs which prowl about the streets,
but also wolves which infest the country districts
and which, in winter, often attack men working
in the fields. I was shown a curious old book at
one of the hospitals which contained some of the
weird methods of treatment employed by the
native doctors before modern science came to their
MODERN BOSNIA 103
aid. One of these (which is mentioned as a
certain cure for hydrophobia) is to kill the dog
which inflicted the bite, cut his body in two
pieces, and walk between the latter with your
eyes shut. This is said to be an infallible remedy,
but the writer gravely adds that it should be
carried out within twenty-four hours of the
accident, otherwise the patient will probably
die ! Oddly enough many of the natives here
still prefer to consult their own medicine-men and
apothecaries, whose drugs seemed to be as weirdly
composed as some I saw in China. I saw some
grey powder, said to be " pulverised mummy,"
sold at an enormous price in the " Bezestan " for
the cure of cancer. For the Bosnian is very
credulous. I should say also, from a short ex-
perience, that he is the least attractive of any
of the Balkan races, for he lacks the chivalry of
the Montenegrin, the gaiety of the Serb, and the
enterprise of the Bulgar. But he has one virtue
domesticity, and is, as a rule, as fond of home and
its legitimate surroundings as his Servian neigh-
bours are the reverse. The men are fine, stalwart
fellows, inured to a life of labour, and caring little
so long as they can earn their daily bread ; the
women rather undersized and inclined to stout-
ness at an early age ; but Eastern races, like
the French, admire this ! The female costume is
becoming to a young girl, but is, in some cases,
so decolUU that its wearer would speedily be
arrested in a London street. There seemed to
be few pleasures in the existence of either sex,
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and these were taken sadly. Even when dancing
the "Kolo" (on the occasion of a wedding, or
feast), which resembles the "Horo" of Bulgaria,
and which is there performed in riotous merri-
ment, the Bosnian went through the performance
as though it were a very serious matter. The
music, from a guzla, was sad and monotonous,
like the country which produced it. I only once
saw a group of Bosnians look in any way cheerful,
and that was at a funeral.
Bosnia is certainly on the way to become as
rich as any other Balkan State, for only capital
is needed to develop its many resources, of which
timber, tobacco, and hides are now the most
important, but will surely not remain so, for
valuable minerals are known to exist. And I
should here mention that the prosperous condition
of this country is due to the ceaseless energy and
enterprise of Baron Von Kallay, a Hungarian, who
as Austrian Minister of Finance has devoted his
life, during the past twenty years, to the complete
reorganisation of the State, politically, socially,
and strategically. And to this end the Baron has
been ably assisted by his beautiful and accom-
plished wife who, at the zenith of her youth and
popularity in Vienna, left the gay capital for this
land of exile, which at that time was bristling with
discomfort and danger. The journey was then one
which few men would have cared to undertake, for
railways ceased near the Servian frontier, and the
so-called roads of Bosnia were infested by hostile
patriots and footpads. Volumes could be written
o face page 104.
A STREET IN SERAJEVO. Photo by Sttidnickl, Serajevo.
MODERN BOSNIA 105
about the adventures which befel this plucky lady
before Serajevo was reached ; and here the Baroness
has since remained, doing her utmost to educate
and socially improve women of all creeds and
classes, and performing the deeds of charity and
self-sacrifice which have earned her the title of
" Queen of Bosnia." Every Austrian I met here
agreed that the rapidity with which this once
unsavoury and lawless town has been converted
into a fine modern city is entirely due to this
illustrious pair, and Ilidje itself would never have
existed but for their generosity and perseverance.
In addition to her social charms Baroness Von
Kallay is justly renowned for her literary abilities
and is a marvellous linguist, speaking English,
French, Russian, and Bosnian fluently, and her
hospitality is a byword amongst travellers of all
nations who have had the good fortune to become
acquainted with this remarkable woman and her
distinguished husband. Baron Von Kallay is only
just over sixty years old, but he has managed to
crowd two centuries of invaluable work into his
lifetime.
Serajevo possesses several hotels, of which the
" Grand Central " is probably the best. As
usual, there was no sitting-room for the use of
guests, and when not exploring the streets and
suburbs the restaurant was our drawing-room.
As at Mostar, it resembled a military mess, and
two-thirds of the habituSs wore the Austrian
uniform, or blue tunic and scarlet fez of some
Austro-Bosnian regiment. The officers seemed to
106 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
have little to do, for at this season of the year
military exercises are generally over for the day
by 10 a.m., and the afternoons are usually spent
in playing cards or talking scandal which, so far
as I could glean, is never lacking here. This
restaurant was also the chief centre for news
from Europe which was posted up in the shape of
telegrams twice during the day, although Serajevo
itself is well supplied with newspapers, several
being published in German and at least half a
dozen in the Bosnian and Turkish languages. In
the evening tradesmen came in after the theatre
with their wives and daughters to drink Bock
and Melange and to listen to the inevitable
string band, while every one spoke German to the
exclusion of every other language, and a demand
in English or French was met with a blank
stare by the " Kellners." The cuisine was good
but trying, being of an international character,
and comprising such contrasts as beefsteak and
frogs, sourcrout and " Eisotto a la Milanese " !
Austrian politeness is justly renowned throughout
Europe, but a lengthened residence in foreign
parts had not improved the manners of some of
the inhabitants here. For the keenest interest in
our movements was taken by the occupants of
adjoining tables, and one day a portly Viennese
bourgeois actually called the waiter to inquire
what I had ordered for dinner ! It is only fair to
add that this disagreeable failing was confined to
civilians. The day of our departure a bill was
handed to me in the restaurant for fifteen koronas,
MODERN BOSNIA 107
which, as we had stayed here for three days and
partaken of at least half a dozen meals in the
hotel, struck me with pleasurable surprise. But
unfortunately it was quickly followed by another
account in the hall amounting to an additional
fifty koronas, and I then learnt that in this portion
of the Balkans the charges for apartments and
board are always presented separately. I mention
this fact in order that other travellers may be
spared the disappointment I experienced !
Serajevo was not always capital of Bosnia
the now obscure little town of Yaitche", one of the
loveliest spots in the country, having first occupied
that distinction. Yaitche is well worth a visit, if
only on account of its picturesque position and
magnificent waterfall, which dashes with a deafen-
ing roar from the level of the town to a foaming
cataract sixty or seventy feet below it. The place
was built in the fifteenth century by an Italian from
Spalato, who also fortified it so successfully that
it has often proved a stumbling-block to invading
Turks and Hungarians ; also to the Austrians in
1878, who only occupied it after considerable loss
of life. Here the last King of Bosnia was mur-
dered, in 1463, by an envoy of the Sultan of
Turkey, and his skeleton may still be seen reposing
in a glass coffin in the old Franciscan church.
Yaitche was formerly inhabited solely by Catholics,
and the ruins of many of their churches, destroyed
by the Turks, are still visible. St. Luke the
Evangelist is said to have died here, and a church
dedicated to his memory (since converted into a
108 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
mosque) is still standing. I was much interested
in an ancient and curious custom here, which
is, I believe, unknown in other Bosnian towns :
Any woman of the community whose conduct has
not been above reproach is compelled to kneel in
the street, outside some sacred edifice, for several
hours a day until she has repented of her sins.
And apparently society in the capital is not over-
scrupulous in the matter of morals, to judge by
the remark made to me regarding this singular
rite by a young officer whom I met at the
"Grand Central." "If they had to do it in
Serajevo," he said, "there would be no getting
past the cathedral ! "
' ice page 108.
A BOSNIAN SMUGGLER. Fhoto by Studnicki, Serajevo.
CHAPTER VIII
BELGRADE
AT daybreak on a glorious April morning we
reached Belgrade, and as the train clattered across
the iron bridge which separates it from the town
of Semlin in Austrian territory I have seldom
looked upon a fairer picture than that of the
" White City," * shining like a pearl through the
silvery mists of sunrise. Mackenzie was enraptured
with the scene, and remarked that the Servian
capital must indeed be " a bonny spot," until I
warned him that "distance lends enchantment,"
and that recollections of my last visit here were
anything but pleasant ones. But nearly thirty
years had now elapsed since Servia last fought to
free herself from the yoke of the unspeakajble
Turk. In those days Belgrade contained perhaps
thirty thousand inhabitants, and was unlinked by
a ribbon of steel with civilised Europe. A tedious
river journey brought you, from East or West, to
a squalid, Eastern-looking town with ramshackle
buildings and unsavoury streets. The chief
* Belgrade is derived from the Servian words " Beo-grad"
or " White City."
109
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thoroughfare was generally a sea of mud, although
Princess Nathalie (afterwards Queen of Servia)
might be seen there daily, rain or shine, the royal
barouche ploughing axle-deep through mire and
splashing its fair and elaborately gowned occupant.
This was then the only drivable road, which signi-
fied little, as carriages were so few and far between.
A truly dreary place was Belgrade in the seventies,
for everything was primitive, dirty, and comfort-
less. In those days the best inn was a caravanserai,
chiefly occupied by Eussian volunteers, cavaliers of
fortune, who swarmed into the country long before
war had been officially declared. Every night the
gloomy restaurant was crowded with these free-
lances, and bad champagne and fiery vodka flowed
freely while painted Jezebels from Vienna cackled
songs in bad French to the accompaniment of a
cracked piano. Never had this remote Servian
city witnessed such orgies, for many of these
Bussian allies had money to burn. They were of
all ranks, from dandified guardsmen in search of
fame to wild-eyed, ragged Cossacks with an eye
to loot and other things. It was a reckless,
undisciplined horde, eyed askance by civilians
with pretty wives, and cordially detested by
Servian warriors who, much as they love to
sport a uniform, strongly object to being shot
for disgracing it. And this frequently happened,
for it is a fact that Prince Milan's troops
were often driven into action like dogs by their
Russian commanders. During the war of 1876
the spectacle of Servian privates strolling about
BELGRADE 111
the capital with self-mutilated hands in order to
escape service was a common one. But Prince
Milan was a poor example to his army, for while
desperate battles were of daily occurrence in the
provinces this apathetic ruler passed most of his
time playing "Vint" with congenial companions
in the "Konak" or old Turkish palace, where his
only son was destined to meet, some years later,
with such a tragic fate.
A lively remembrance of old Belgrade and its
primitive methods made it a pleasant surprise on
this occasion to enter a palatial railway station
instead of being dumped down on a mud-bank
from the deck of a grimy steamer. There was
one advantage in those days, however, for travel-
lers were not subjected to the vexatious police
regulations which now exist, and which are chiefly
due to the unsettled condition of political affairs
since the assassination of Alexander I. This time
it was quite as bad as entering the Russian Empire,
perhaps worse, for there, at least, the Custom
House officials are not (or used not to be) exacting.
But at Belgrade, in these days, everything in the
shape of baggage is turned upside down and closely
examined, and the passport examination often
occupies half a day a very obnoxious proceeding
to those who, like ourselves, had fasted for twenty-
four hours. Mackenzie was especially indignant,
the more so when recalled, as we were on the
point of leaving, by an inquisitive police official.
" Your name Mackenzie yes ? " inquired the
latter. "Your fader live Belgrade no? Very
112 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
good man, give plenty money yes ? " " What on
earth has my father got to do with you ? " returned
the irate Aberdonian; "and as for money, you
won't get any more out of me. Here, drive on ! "
and the carriage dashed away, leaving the man
of passports open-mouthed and apparently as
puzzled as I was at this brief and mysterious
colloquy. And it was only some time afterwards
that we learnt that a canny Scotsman, one
Mackenzie, who many years ago left the land
of cakes to settle down here, had, after a pros-
perous career, proved such a philanthropist that
he has been handed down to posterity as a public
benefactor. " More fool he ! " remarked my friend,
quite unimpressed by the fact that a fashionable
quarter of Belgrade now bears the name (with
variations) of his late illustrious kinsman.
Eip Van Winkle, after his long sleep in the
Katskills, can scarcely have been more astonished
at the altered appearance of his native village
than I was at the marvellous improvements which
less than thirty years have worked in Belgrade.
In 1876 a dilapidated Turkish fortress frowned
down upon a maze of buildings little better than
mud-huts and unpaved, filthy streets. I had to
splash my way from the river to the town through
an ocean of mud carrying my own luggage, for no
porters were procurable, and the half-dozen rough
country-carts at the landing-place were quickly
pounced upon by local magnates. Having reached
the so-called " hotel " I found that it provided
only black bread, a kind of peppery stew called
THE CATHEDRAL,
BKLGKADE.
Fhoto by Author.
'. page 112.
BELGRADE 113
"Paprika," and nothing else in the way of food
although all kinds of villainous wines and spirits
were to be had at outrageous prices, having been
laid down by a cunning landlord to meet the re-
quirements of a thirsty Russian Legion^ There
was no privacy by day or night, and I was com-
pelled to share a small, dark den with several
Cossacks, a Polish Jew, and numerous other in-
mates which shall be nameless. To-day it seemed
like a dream to be whirled away from the railway
station in a neat fiacre, along spacious boulevards,
with well-dressed crowds and electric cars, to a luxu-
rious hotel. Here were gold-laced porters, lifts, and
even a Winter Garden, where a delicious dfy'euner
(cooked by a Frenchman) awaited me. Every-
thing is now up to date in this city of murder and
mystery, for only two landmarks are left of the old
city the cathedral and citadel, over which now
floats the tricolour of Servia. Of course ancient
portions of the place still exist, with low-eaved,
vine-trellised houses, cobbled streets, and quiet
squares, recalling some sleepy provincial town
in France; but these are now mere suburbs,
peopled by the poorer classes, along the banks
which form the junction of the Danube and
Save. Modern Belgrade is bisected by the
Teratsia, a boulevard, over a mile in length,
of fine buildings, overtopped, about midway,
by the golden domes of the new Palace. This is
the chief thoroughfare, and here are the principal
hotels, private residences, and shops, which latter,
towards evening, blaze with electric light. The
8
114 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Teratsia then becomes a fashionable promenade,
and smart carriages, brilliant uniforms, and Vienna
toilettes add to the gaiety of the scene. Servia
is lavish in uniforms, most of them more sugges-
tive of opera-bouffe than modern warfare. From
dawn till midnight the streets and cafes swarm
with officers, who apparently have little to do but
show themselves to a rather unappreciative public.
On the other hand, I seldom saw a private soldier,
except those on sentry outside public buildings
and in barracks, and there is, no doubt, good
reason for keeping the garrison on the alert for
any emergency which may arise from the present
disturbed condition of affairs. This I shall refer
to in another chapter, and the reader will then
probably agree that " Scarlet " would be a more
suitable adjective than "White" for a city which
has witnessed such infamous deeds, committed
under the name of " patriotism." Yet, out-
wardly, " White " is a sufficiently descriptive
term, for the snowy buildings, cheerful streets,
and luxuriant greenery undoubtedly render this
the most attractive capital throughout the Balkan
States. A distinguished English traveller has
described Belgrade as "a smaller but neater
version of Budapest." Personally I see no simi-
larity whatever between the two cities, although
in early summer, when trees and flowers are in full
bloom, the open-air life and exhilarating climate
render the place almost worthy of the name of
" Petit Paris," which was given to it, in his
palmier days, by that erratic potentate, the late
BELGRADE 115
King Milan. And amongst the novel and civilised
objects which here met my astonished gaze was
a motor car ! of the very latest Parisian build and
finish. I should add, however, that this rara avis'
belonged to a Frenchman who had travelled here
from Vienna en route to Eagusa and Montenegro.
And a pleasanter trip could not be imagined at
this time of year, for the high-roads through the
Austrian Balkans could give points to many even
in France.
Strange as it may seem, there is a great
similarity between the Servian and French people,
which is one of the most curious characteristics
of this little-known nation. This is, perhaps, ex-
plained by the fact that, ever since the attainment
of Servian independence, the so-called upper classes
have sent their children to France to complete
their education which, in the towns at least, is of
a very high standard. Nearly every Servian I
met in Belgrade spoke at least three languages
(one of them invariably French) ; although in the
provinces a stranger unacquainted with the Servian
tongue fares badly. When travelling through the
wilder parts of the country my knowledge of
Eussian stood me in good stead, and enabled
me to converse, although imperfectly, with the
natives. This was also the case in Bulgaria, but
in remoter parts of Eumania I was again as
helpless with regard to language as I had been in
Bosnia and Montenegro. But any way, Servians
of all classes are the politest people in the world,
who will always go out of their way to assist a
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stranger. I once inquired my way of a police-
man, and he accompanied me for at least a quarter
of a mile to put me on the right road.
Belgrade is now essentially a modern city, and
the traveller is therefore apt to find it outwardly
dull and prosaic after the towns he has visited
on his way up from the Adriatic. This is partly
due to an absence of colour. In Bosnia and
Bulgaria bright and picturesque native costumes
are continually met with (in Montenegro you
rarely see anything else), but the people of
Belgrade, with their tailor-made gowns and
stove-pipe hats, might have walked straight out
of Eegent Street. For the first day or two
Mackenzie and I wore light- coloured tweeds
which, however, so scandalised the fashionable
strollers on the Teratsia that we retreated hastily
to the hotel and donned soberer suits of dark
blue serge. And here, as in Eussia, morning calls
of an official nature must be made in thin dress
clothes an attire hardly adapted to a drive in an
open sleigh in something unpleasant below zero.
I once had to pay my respects to the Governor of
Eastern Siberia at Irkutsk under these conditions,
when the cold was so intense that I was compelled
to draw on heavy furs and a thick suit of felt over
the rest of my attire an aggregate of apparel
which gave me the appearance of an animated
balloon. The object of the interview was to obtain
dogs and reindeer for a four months' trip to the
Bering Straits, and His Excellency (who suffered
from weak sight) condoled with me on the priva-
BELGRADE 117
tions and sufferings which such a journey must
inflict. " Luckily you are very fat," he said,
consolingly, with a glance at my massive propor-
tions at parting ; " and there is nothing like that
to keep out the cold ! "
During the spring-time a man need never feel
dull for a moment in Belgrade, especially if he can
present, as I did, letters of introduction to pleasant
people who will tell him what to do and how to do
it. For there is no lack of amusement at any time
or season amongst these careless, easy-going folk,
most of whom, like the Parisians, make a business
of pleasure and leave work to look after itself. I
strolled into the " Kalemegdan," or public gardens,
one Sunday afternoon, and the family groups sit-
ting under the trees or sipping " Bocks" at an
open-air cafi, the kiosk with its military band,
the nurses, soldiers, and goat-carriages, looked as
though a bit of the Tuileries or Park Monceau had
dropped out of the blue sky into the Balkans !
Come here at sunset and you will be repaid by a
view which I have seldom seen surpassed ; but it
must be in summer-time, when the eye can range
over leagues of forest, flood, and field, extending
from the broad and sullen river at your feet to
an horizon formed by the boundless prairies of
Hungary. But in early spring-time the Danube
overflows its banks and these steppes become a
waste of water, a vast grey sea, with desolate
islets formed by the higher ground, and you search
in vain for the kaleidoscopic effects cast by cloud
and sunshine over the fertile summer plains. On
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this spot, when the Crescent waved over Belgrade,
stood Turkish sentinels, and here also was the
execution ground where the blackened corpses of
impaled Christians were exposed as a warning to
infidels by the reigning Pasha.
A charming excursion was to Topchider Park,
where the residence of Milosh, the founder of the
Obrenovitch dynasty, still stands amidst well-kept
gardens, in beautiful grounds several miles in
extent. Topchider is only two miles out of the
capital, and is reached either by train or electric
railway which is as well, for few people walk about
Belgrade who can avoid it. This is on account of
the atrocious cobbles with which portions of the
city are still paved, and which not only torture the
pedestrian but inflict considerable discomfort to
those on wheels. Many pretty villas surround
the Park, for it is a favourite resort of the
wealthier classes during the summer months.
There is an excellent restaurant, where tables
must be booked for days beforehand in July and
August, for this is then one of the loveliest
and coolest spots imaginable, with its stately
forests of oak and elm trees, silvery streams, and
miles of greensward carpeted with flowers. No
wonder poor Queen Draga loved to seek rest and
solace here from the dusty capital which was to
witness her martyrdom. And this is not the only
sad association connected with Topchider, for here
Servia's best and wisest ruler, Prince Michael
Obrenovitch, was murdered in 1868, a monument
being erected to his memory on the fatal spot.
BELGRADE 119
But the aged and be-medalled custodian, who
showed us round, was much more communicative
on the subject of the late King Milan's amours
in these historic woods than on the tragic fate
of this susceptible sovereign's ancestor. For
here, one summer's day, Queen Nathalie first
discovered the infidelity of her consort, and the
run of ill-luck which has since overshadowed the
house of Obrenovitch may be said to have dated
from that day. In connection with this incident,
the following anecdote may or may not be true ;
but it was told me by a Servian statesman not
given to exaggeration. As the reader is probably
aware, Queen Nathalie is a Russian by birth, and
was a mere schoolgirl, the daughter of a Colonel
Keshko, a wealthy landowner in Bessarabia, when
Prince Milan first made her acquaintance. A
marriage was arranged shortly after, but before
it took place Mademoiselle Keshko was persuaded
by some friends to visit a famous cheiromant.
" You will reign over a great people," said
the seer. " But your crown will be one of
thorns and sorrow. You will be driven into exile
from your adopted country, but your downfall
will be hastened from a journey you will make
on foot through thickly wooded ground a forest.
Avoid the neighbourhood of woods or forests as
you would the plague ! "
The royal nuptials solemnised, King Milan
laughed this prediction to scorn, until his shallow,
scheming mind suddenly conceived a plan which
should turn the wizard's words to his own benefit.
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The Queen then Princess Nathalie was inordi-
nately jealous, and her spouse chafed and fretted
under a ceaseless espionnage which compelled
him to resort to all kinds of devices to maintain
the liaisons formed in his bachelor days. Here
was a chance not to be missed, and it was speedily
turned to good account by the wily Milan.
"You were told to avoid forests," he said casually
one day, having cunningly led the conversation
into the proper channel ; " of course the thing is
as clear as a window-pane. The man meant
Topchider, where our ancestor Michael met with
a violent death. For the future, Madam, clearly
understand that I forbid you to go near the
place."
But this restriction by no means applied to
the Prince, whose frequent visits to the royal
demesne gradually aroused suspicions in the
mind of Nathalie, which were only increased by
the reports which occasionally reached her from
friends outside the Palace. The suspense be-
coming unbearable, the Queen one day resolved to
disregard the King's instructions, and to visit Top-
chider, whither Milan had already gone that morn-
ing ostensibly to shoot rabbits. And while strolling
through one of the most secluded parts of the park,
closely veiled and attended only by a lady-in-wait-
ing, the Queen suddenly came upon the truant in
such close converse with a well-known lady of
fashion that there could be no doubt as to the
nature of their relations. Thus, indirectly, the
fortune-teller's prophecy was fulfilled, for a violent
BELGRADE 121
altercation was followed by the estrangement
which ended a few years later in divorce and
the final banishment of Nathalie from Servia.
There is no aristocracy in the English sense of
the word in Servia. How should there be when
less than a century ago the ruler of the country
was a pig-drover who could not sign his own name ?
On the other hand, the wealthier class of Servians
have intermarried with the best families in Austria
and other nations, and the result is a so-called
" society," which, though somewhat cosmopolitan
in character, according to English ideas, is to an
outsider rather novel and attractive. My brief
association with the " Upper Ten " of Belgrade
reminded me of the Western States of America,
where a man is welcomed less for wealth and social
status than for an agreeable personality. For the
Servian, like the Frenchman, very rightly refuses
to be bored, and is, therefore, as a natural con-
sequence, as yet unversed in the ethics of snobbery.
During our stay in Belgrade an Austrian nobleman
visiting the country for literary purposes (and
therefore provided with the highest credentials)
was daily to be seen dining in solitary state at his
hotel, while an American tourist, of doubtful
parentage but ready wit, was much sought after,
and seldom permitted to partake of a meal at
his own expense. Bulgarians call their neigh-
bours " a nation of swineherds," and no doubt
half a century ago there was very little class
distinction in town or country. For the bour-
geoisie here is a recent innovation (chiefly of
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German importation), and in Belgrade the very
limited " upper class " is of as questionable origin
and recent growth as the famous " Four Hun-
dred " of New York, which it much resembles,
save in the deplorable vulgarity and tomfoolery
which have rendered that select circle the laugh-
ing-stock of Europe. Indeed I have seldom met
pleasanter people than those forming what is called
the " Court Set " in Belgrade, and the cheery
Bohemian existence they led seemed to me worthy
of imitation by the so-called " superior " classes of
many an older nation. The term " Society " is
only too often suggestive of a useless and frivolous
existence, especially amongst women, but it is not
so here, where the Servian girl of French education
is generally better read and far more accomplished
than her English prototype.* And yet there is a
delightful simplicity about the former, probably
inherited from her humble origin, but none the
less attractive on that account. Servian home
life is absolutely devoid of ostentation, and ladies
of good position assist as a matter of course in the
menial work of the household. I once attended
a supper party at the Winter Garden of the
Grand Hotel, a favourite resort after the theatre,
where a band of ''Tziganes" discoursed sweet
music till the small hours amid the usual sur-
roundings of pretty women, palms, and shaded
lights, and where digestion was not impaired, as
* Servia has now nearly one thousand Government schools
for boys, and over one hundred and fifty for girls. Public in-
struction is compulsory.
BELGRADE 123
in England, by the tyrannical limits of "time."
The feast was given in honour of a young
chamberlain of the Court who had that morning
succeeded in severely wounding his opponent in
a duel a pastime as popular here as it is in
France, but attended with considerably more risk.
On this occasion I sat next to a young married
woman, gowned by Paquin, glittering with
diamonds, and justly renowned for her numerous
attractions. But when, the next day, I called at
her house, somewhat unexpectedly, I entirely
failed at first to recognise in the neat but plainly-
clad handmaiden who answered the bell, my
charming hostess of the night before!
And talking of theatre parties, there is plenty to
do of an evening in modern Belgrade ; for there is
an excellent theatre, frequently visited by French
artists, a couple of minor playhouses for the
production of Servian works, and several music-
halls with a licence of song and speech which
would open the eyes of the London County
Council. But the Danubian provinces have never
been renowned for morality, and I can recall the
days (not so very long ago) when travellers in
Hungary and adjacent countries were on their
arrival invariably provided by the hotel porter
with a photograph book, from which they could
select a fair but frail companion to enliven, for
a monetary consideration, their evening repast.
Indeed there is a legend that, some years ago, a
staid British diplomat, travelling en famille, and
putting up at a well-known hotel in Buda-Pest,
124 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
was found intently studying this mysterious
volume by the " Ambassadrice," and the painful
scene which followed is best left to the reader's
imagination.
But this is some years ago, and if vice still
exists in Belgrade, it is at any rate cunningly
concealed, for there is no sign of it in the streets,
where an unprotected woman may walk at any
hour of the day or night without fear of molesta-
tion. I visited one of the music-halls, which would
certainly have been voted dull in London, for the
performance lasted until one o'clock in the morning,
and was conducted with a gravity suggestive of a
first-class funeral. This was the more surprising,
seeing that wines and spirits of all kinds were on sale
throughout the building ; but the average Servian
is a temperate being, who dislikes alcohol in any
shape or form and generally prefers water to any
other beverage. This, however, does not apply to
the provinces, where drunkenness appeared to be
almost as prevalent amongst the peasantry as it is
in parts of the Eussian Empire.
CHAPTER IX
SOME EECENT RULERS OF SERVIA
I MAY as well, before proceeding further, give a
brief sketch of the events connected with Servia
which have occurred during the past century.
This is in order that the reader may more clearly
realise the present condition of the country by a
knowledge of the many crises through which the
latter has passed owing to the eternal struggle for
supremacy between the rival houses of Karageorge-
vitch and Obrenovitch. This historical retrospect
is of necessity brief and incomplete, for those who
desire a deeper knowledge of Servian history must
seek it elsewhere than in these fugitive impressions
of travel. For my purpose it will be unnecessary
to go further back than the year 1804, when one
George Petrovitch, a poor swineherd, indirectly
founded the Karageorgevitch dynasty, which is
to-day (more or less) firmly established in the
person of His Majesty King Peter I. Servia
had for centuries languished under Turkish mis-
rule and oppression when Petrovitch contrived to
raise a guerilla force of patriots, which, although
indifferently armed, eventually succeeded in driving
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126 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
the Sultan's army across the border. From that
day henceforth the humble peasant, who had
accomplished this feat with very inadequate
means, was hailed as the saviour of his country,
and was known, chiefly by reason of his swarthy
features and gloomy nature, as "Kara" (or
" Black ") George, a name from which the present
royal title of Karageorgevitch has been derived.
According to all accounts Servia's first ruler
must have been what Americans call " a pretty
tough citizen." Few men really loved Petrovitch,
who ruled solely by fear, and whose cold, cruel
nature and insolent ways repelled even his
staunchest followers. "Except under the in-
fluence of wine," says an English writer, u or the
sound of firearms, ' Black George ' was habitually
moody. On one occasion his aged father having
thwarted his wishes, Kara George drew a pistol
and shot him through the head ; on another, when
his mother tried to cheat him out of a beehive he
bonneted her with it and stalked off regardless of
her piercing cries of pain." Numberless other
atrocities are related of this barbarian, who was
nevertheless an efficient administrator, and scru-
pulously just in all his dealings. No braver patriot
ever lived, or one with less idea of self-aggrandise-
ment, for he would return, even after his most
brilliant victories, to his squalid home, and there
resume the uneventful life of a breeder of swine.
In 1806 Kara George attained the zenith of his
fame by finally crushing the Turkish and Bosnian
allies at the battle of Mishar, and the following year
page 126.
KING PETER I. Photo by Milan Jovatiovitch, Belgrade.
SOME RECENT RULERS OF SERVIA 127
the first national Servian Government was formed,
with this peasant parvenu as its nominal Dictator.
But internal dissensions soon followed, and
various political parties were formed which have
never ceased to harass the Government of this
fickle, restless nation to this day. Trouble also
came from abroad, for the greedy eyes of Eussia
and Austria were now turned towards Servia by
reason of her mineral and agricultural resources.
Kara George, fearing that power was being
undermined by treachery at home and abroad,
organised the coup d'6tat which installed him
as absolute ruler of Servia. This proceeding
entailed, as usual, many arrests, and amongst
those detained was one Milosh Obrenovitch, a
young peasant destined to become the first and
most famous of that line of princes. In 1811
Kara George was practically King of Servia, but
two years later the country had been reconquered
by the Turks, and he was seeking refuge as an
exile in Austria.
It was now the turn of an Obrenovitch to come
to the front. Milosh was at this period about
thirty years of age, and although a swineherd
like his predecessor, was endowed with more in-
tellect, refinement, and tact. The first Obrenovitch
was a born diplomatist, who realised that a
Machiavellian policy was the most likely one to
bring about the one object of his life Servian in-
dependence. And this crafty peasant so success-
fully hoodwinked the Turkish authorities, that the
Pasha employed him as intermediary to bring about
128 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
a more friendly feeling between his countrymen
and the Sultan's representative. And so cleverly
did Milosh lay his plans that the Sultan's viceroy
showered honours upon one who was only biding
his time in order to give the final coup de grace to
Turkish rule. For two years Milosh patiently and
secretly prepared a general uprising, and on Palm
Sunday, 1815, at Takova, the banner of revolution
was unfurled. Then followed a desperate struggle,
waged on both sides with fanatical desperation, in
which even women and children joined. This
campaign, however, was carried on by the Servians
with a total absence of the barbarous cruelty to
Turkish prisoners which had besmirched the fame
of Black George. Milosh Obrenovitch eventually
gained the day, and was duly proclaimed Prince of
Servia under the suzerainty of the Sultan. This
was in 1817. In the same year Kara George
secretly returned from exile with the vague inten-
tion of deposing his rival and seizing the throne,
but the plot was discovered, and its originator paid
the penalty of his rashness by death.
Milosh Obrenovitch was not officially recognised
by the Sultan as Prince until 1830, when the title
was made as hereditary as it can be in the Balkan
States. It is interesting to trace, from this period,
the varying fortunes of the Karageorgevitch and
Obrenovitch dynasties, which somewhat resemble
a contest between two wrestlers in a prize ring
first one gaming the upper hand, and then his
opponent. Milosh was the best and wisest ruler
Servia ever had, and possibly, with the exception
SOME RECENT RULERS OF SERVIA 129
of Black George, the bravest, for he walked about
the streets of Belgrade with his life in his hands,
and in constant danger of assassination from
Karageorgevitch partisans. But the bulk of the
nation idolised him, and when, in 1839, Russian
intrigues compelled him to abdicate, Milosh left
Servia sincerely mourned by his people. The
banished Prince was succeeded by his eldest son,
Milan, who, however, died less than a month after
his accession, and was succeeded by his younger
brother, Michael, at the early age of sixteen.
The first reign of this Obrenovitch was almost as
brief as that of his elder brother, and it was cut
short by a scheming and unscrupulous mother,
whose object was to bring about the restoration
of her husband. At the age of nineteen Michael
was forced to abdicate, and he also became an
outcast, residing abroad for eighteen years, at
the expiration of which time he returned to Servia
and resumed the reins of government.
Although the deposed consort of Milosh had not
foreseen such a contingency, the opportunity
afforded by the banishment of her son was seized
upon by the Karageorgevitch faction as a pretext
to place Alexander, the son of Kara George, upon
the throne, and this was accomplished without
difficulty, for the Servian people have been aptly
described as human weathercocks. Russia, also,
was strongly in favour of the new dynasty, and
therefore the reign of Karageorgevitch II. was an
unusually long one for Servia, lasting for nearly
seventeen years, at the expiration of which this
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prince was deposed for attempting to abolish the
House of Assembly, or Skupshtina. The return
of Milosh Obrenovitch was now unanimously voted
for, and in 1858, at seventy-eight years of age,
after twenty years of exile, the Patriarch ruler
was welcomed back to Belgrade amidst scenes of
the wildest enthusiasm. And although the old
patriot died within two years of his restoration,
Servia prospered more during his brief reign than
during the lengthened one of his predecessor, who
lacked both the courage and enterprise of his
uncouth brutal but able parent.
The Obrenovitch dynasty was now firmly estab-
lished, for it was maintained from the death
of Milosh in 1860 down to the assassination of
King Alexander and Queen Draga, nearly forty-
three years later. With the accession of Michael
(the son of Milosh), Servia entered upon pros-
perous times. For during his twenty years of
exile this ruler had visited most of the Conti-
nental capitals, and studied the various systems
of government with a view to applying them
to his own country. Drastic reforms in the
army, the extension of political rights for the
people, and a thorough reorganisation of the
Skupshtina, were some of the measures carried
out by this advanced administrator. But his
most masterly coup de main was the complete
evacuation of Servia by Turkish troops a scheme
carried through mainly by the friendly inter-
vention of England and Austria. Nevertheless,
the Sultan withdrew his garrisons on condition
SOME RECENT RULERS OF SERVIA 131
that on feast-days the Turkish colours should be
hoisted over every Government building through-
out the land. Thus, for the first time in
centuries, Belgrade became entirely free, only
the yearly tribute remaining as an invisible sign
of Turkish suzerainty.
This was in 1867, but the following year Prince
Michael was foully murdered by a gang of
assassins hired, it is said, by Alexander Kara-
georgevitch and his partisans. The unfortunate
victim was shot down and then stabbed so
repeatedly that more than forty wounds were
found upon his body a species of savagery which,
judging from the last political outrage, Servian
regicides habitually resort to. A plot to over-
power the garrison and reinstate Alexander Kara-
georgevitch the same day as the murder, was only
frustrated by the prompt measures taken by the
military authorities, but it resulted in a decree by
the National Assembly banishing for ever the
Karageorgevitch family from Servia. To this day,
therefore, the descendants of Kara George are
exiles, and the present occupant of the throne
is, practically, a usurper.
Milan Obrenovitch, the murdered Prince's
cousin, then ascended the throne under the title
of Milan IV. Educated in Paris, this new ruler
had ultra-Parisian tastes, and his love of pleasure
and reckless extravagance were destined long
before his death to justify the name since given
him by one of his own party, " Le Prince de
Triste Mernoire ! "
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The events in Servia which followed the Russo-
Turkish campaign are too recent to need recapitu-
lation here ; suffice it to say that the absolute
independence of Servia was affirmed by the Powers
at the subsequent Treaty of Berlin. On March 6,
1882, the reigning Prince was proclaimed King
under the title of Milan I.
It is said, and perhaps truly, that the vagaries
of this cosmopolitan ruler and the scandals con-
nected with his married life caused the renewed
activity of the Karageorgevitch clan, whose star
had waned since the prosperous reign of Milosh
and his successor. In any case Milan's conduct
to his consort, Queen Nathalie, who was the soul
of honour and integrity, excited the greatest
indignation amongst all classes in Belgrade, where
the Queen was deservedly popular. A divorce at
length severed this miserable union, and Her
Majesty left Servia only to return to Belgrade
upon the abdication of Prince Milan in 1889.
CHAPTEE X
ALEXANDER AND DEAGA
WE now come to the last of the Obrenovitch line
whose short reign exercised, while it lasted, such
a beneficial influence over Servia that the name
of Alexander I. will surely be handed down to
posterity as that of a sovereign who, had he lived,
might have accomplished great things for his king-
dom. The calumnies circulated after the King's
death by foreign journalists, may well be ignored,
for they were published by men about as well
acquainted with the true life and character of
the man they traduced, as I am with those of
the Grand Llama of Tibet.
Travel through Servia and you will find, espe-
cially in the provinces, that the late King is still
mourned by his subjects, while the present
sovereign is generally regarded with apathetic
indifference. Only compare the two men : on the
one hand Peter I., the tool of adventurers, who
before he was hoisted, nolens volens, on to a
throne, was quite content with the aimless exist-
ence of a Boulevardier on the other Alexander,
who even as a lad of seventeen possessed sufficient
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strength of character to depose the Regents, and
proclaim himself King of a country, which to the
day of his death he ably and wisely governed.
Even his bitterest enemies cannot deny that
Alexander displayed qualities of courage, tact
and self-restraint far beyond his years. The
night before Milan's abdication, the latter, on
bidding his son good-night said, " Sasha ! * What
will you do when you are King? " But the boy,
although he looked grave and thoughtful, made
no answer. Early the next morning Milan came
to his son's room with the greeting, " Good morn-
ing, your Majesty!" but Alexander returned the
salute with dignity and without surprise.
" So you know ? " asked Milan. " Who told you
that I was going to abdicate ? "
" No one," was the answer; "but I guessed
from your question that you intended me to
succeed you to-day."
Mr. Herbert Vivian, the English traveller, was
not only personally acquainted with the late
King but enjoyed his esteem and friendship,
and also those of the Queen. The following
account of an audience with their Majesties
shortly after Alexander I.'s accession is therefore
interesting in view of the terrible tragedy which
shortly followed. Mr. Vivian writes :
" My audience was fixed for eleven in the
morning. After waiting awhile in the central
drawing-room, I was summoned to an ante-room.
* The pet name by which Alexander I. was known to his
parents
face page 134.
Photo by Milan Jovanovitch, Belgrade.
THE LATE KING ALEXANDER OF SERVIA.
ALEXANDER AND DRAGA 135
An animated conversation was going on in the
next apartment. A highly-pitched voice could
be heard haranguing, and I wondered who was
permitted to talk thus to his sovereign. The
door opened, and I perceived that it was the King
whose voice I had heard. He was now laughing
merrily, while a general in full uniform backed
out with a deferential smile at a parting sally.
There was no ceremonious presentation. I simply
walked in and found myself alone with the King,
a well-set young man, clad in flannels. He bade
me be seated, and we faced each other across a
big table that nearly filled the room. Everything
was scrupulously tidy ; papers docketed in packets,
even the pens reposed in strict parallels.
"'This is not your first visit to Servia,' he
began. * You must find many changes here ? '
" ' I do not think that Belgrade has altered very
noticeably.'
" ' Ah ! but I mean political changes.'
"'Well, when I was last here, there was a
Progressist Government, and now I understand that
the ministry is well disposed towards the throne.'
" He looked pleased, and said there had been
difficulties, but now they were being gradually
settled. Where had I travelled in Servia ? I
mentioned my itinerary through the country, and
he asked whether I could not induce British capital
to Servia? Now that the war was over, there
must be a need of openings for British capital.
But people knew so little about Servia and seemed
to consider it wildly remote.
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" ' Whereas,' I put in, 'everything is now safe
and assured.'
"Yes, public security was assured, and also
industrial security, which interested the investor
more particularly.
" After some further conversation, His Majesty
apologised for not detaining me further, saying
that affairs of state were absorbing all his time
just then. Finally, as I took my leave, he re-
marked cordially, ' I hope that you will corne
back many times to Servia.' "
I myself can vouch for the correctness of Mr.
Vivian's assertion that wherever King Alexander
travelled in the interior he left golden opinions
behind him, for he knew how to set every one
at his ease and was not only an agreeable talker
but, what is sometimes better, an attentive listener.
His keen sense of humour often averted a dan-
gerous subject by some witty remark. Superficial
observers sometimes mistook King Alexander's
silence for stupidity, but they never made a greater
mistake. At home and abroad His Majesty was
simplicity itself. The royal servants wore plain
liveries and most of the courtiers plain frock-coats.
You encountered none of the gorgeous pages,
magnificoes in uniform, and marshals who swarm
in the Bulgarian Court, and the King might often
be seen out driving in his capital in tweeds and
a " bowler " hat, which would have horrified Prince
Ferdinand.
Until King Alexander met Draga Maschin at
his mother's villa at Biarritz, he had never even
ALEXANDER AND DRAGA 137
contemplated matrimony, although Queen Nathalie
made no secret of her ambition to arrange, if
possible, an alliance between her beloved " Sasha "
and some English or German princess. But
whenever the subject of marriage was men-
tioned her son turned it off with a jest, and
the remark that there was time enough to think
of such things. It seems like an irony of fate
that the first meeting between Alexander and
the woman who ruled (and involuntarily ruined)
his career should have taken place under the
roof of his mother, who from the very first was
bitterly opposed to the marriage, not only on
account of her lady-in-waiting's lowly station but
because such a mesalliance would undoubtedly
further the chances of a Karageorgevitch pre-
tender. And there was some reason for Nathalie's
remonstrances, seeing that the object of her son's
infatuation was merely the widow of a humble
Servian engineer one Maschin, whom Draga
married when she was only sixteen years old.
Maschin was a dissipated rake, who subjected
his child-wife to such infamous treatment that
she easily obtained a divorce, her husband dying
shortly after of delirium tremens.
The future Queen of Servia, having no private
fortune, was now almost penniless, but a fair
education enabled her to settle down alone in
Belgrade, where she managed to add to her slender
income by teaching music and languages. A
young and pretty woman, living alone and
unprotected, could scarcely expect to escape
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slander, especially in the Servian capital, where
scandal is as rife as in an English country town.
But although Draga, in the dark days of her
poverty, made innumerable friends, not a word
could ever be whispered against her honour and
fair fame. It was only when Mme. Maschin
became a Queen that abominable libels as to her
moral character were scattered broadcast, in many
instances by those who had once called them-
selves her best friends. It is not likely that
Queen Nathalie, on hearing of Draga's sad story,
should have straightway appointed her as lady-
in-waiting if her proteges character had been
open to the slightest breath of suspicion, nor that
the ex-Queen should afterwards have made a
friend and confidant of one in whom she had
not absolute confidence. Much has been written
since Draga's assassination anent her surpass-
ing beauty, which, her enemies aver, was chiefly
answerable for the fickleness (to use no harsher
term) of her affections. But in plain truth
the late Queen was less beautiful than comely,
according to English ideas for her features were
rather coarse than otherwise, although their
expression was refined and dignified, and her
smile was sweet and winning. The chief charms
of this unhappy woman lay in unusually dark,
expressive eyes, and a wealth of dark brown
hair, which fell far below the waist. Her
complexion was sallow, and her figure rather
inclined to stoutness, but Draga's kindly sym-
pathetic nature was her chief attraction, and the
face page 138.
TH E LATE QUEEN DRAGA. Photo * Milan jfovanovitch, Belgrade.
ALEXANDER AND DRAGA 139
one by which she will be the best remembered
(especially by the poor) throughout the kingdom
of Servia.
When Alexander first made her acquaintance
Draga was nearly thirty years old an age Balzac
rightly describes as dangerous in a woman to
young and susceptible manhood. It was a case
of love at first sight, which, notwithstanding its
secrecy, was soon discovered by Queen Nathalie,
who was one day horrified to find that her son was
firmly resolved upon matrimony. But threats and
supplications were in vain, for Draga was also
unwilling to relinquish her lover, for whom she
had conceived a deep attachment. High words
ensued, with the result that the Queen, angered
beyond endurance, retired to her apartments, and
Alexander left for Belgrade whither Mme.
Maschin, who had received a peremptory dis-
missal, shortly followed. Some say that this
was the act of a designing woman, whose sole
object was the gratification of ambition ; whereas
poor Draga was merely following the natural
instincts of her impulsive nature, and loving,
wayward heart. In any case Mme. Maschin once
more took up her residence in Belgrade, but under
conditions that more or less justified the censure
of society. It was soon an open secret that her
splendid establishment, costly jewels, and horses
and carriages were provided by the Privy Purse,
and this gradually estranged the recipient from
even those friends who had formerly done every-
thing in their power to assist her. For this the
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King alone was to blame, in not announcing
his intention, at the outset, of marrying a lady
who was publicly living under his protection.
Draga was now regarded, in the eyes of the
world, as the mistress of the sovereign whose
consort no one therefore imagined she could ever
become.
When, in 1899, the King was ordered for the
benefit of his health to Meran in the Tyrol, Draga
followed him after a short interval, and a villa
was taken for her close to the royal residence.
But this final scandal brought affairs to a crisis,
and probably hastened the marriage which
Alexander, to do him justice, had resolved from
the first should take place. It is said that Russia
hastened on the match for her own ends and
with a view to overthrowing the reigning dynasty,
but it is hard to see with what object, for Alex-
ander was on the best of terms with the Tsar's
Government. Be this as it may, the betrothal
was formally announced, and on the 5th of August,
1900, the wedding was duly solemnised in Bel-
grade Cathedral. And although the relatives and
ministers of King Alexander did all that lay in
their power to prevent what they deemed a fatal
step, his subjects were by no means universally
opposed to the match ; for Draga was a Servian,
and she therefore received a warmer welcome than
would have been accorded to any foreign princess,
however exalted her rank. During the nuptials
Belgrade was en fete for forty-eight hours on end,
and the old city had never beheld such a riot
ALEXANDER AND DEAGA 141
of revelry since the restoration of its revered and
beloved Milosh.
Nevertheless before many months had elapsed
the influence exerted by Draga over her husband
began to excite considerable uneasiness in
ministerial circles. It began to be whispered
abroad that Alexander was as wax in the hands
of the Queen, and that he could not even decide
upon the most trivial question without consulting
her. Nothing was done without the Queen's
consent, from affairs of state down to theatricals
or a picnic. This was perhaps the thin end of
the wedge which eventually rendered this unhappy
woman an object of detestation to the courtiers
and statesmen around her, for one of the charges
brought against the Queen was that of exerting
an evil influence over Alexander for her own
ends, which, as Draga was well known to be the
essence of simplicity and good-nature, was as
childish as some of the monstrous accusations
brought against the ill-fated Marie Antoinette.
To one charge only this unfortunate woman
had no defence : that she could never become a
mother and the declaration of eminent physicians
to this effect was made the most of in order to
foster doubt and dissension amongst the peasantry.
This news was a severe blow to the King, who,
nevertheless, never wavered for one instant in
his lifelong devotion towards the woman he
idolised.
This, then, was the precarious condition of affairs
in Belgrade when tidings of a terrible massacre
142 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
in their capital fell like a bolt from the blue upon
the Servian people. But how this atrocious crime
was planned and accomplished will be told in the
two succeeding chapters.
CHAPTER XI
MUEDEBEBS IN UNIFOBM
CAPTAIN NIKOLAI RASTOVITCH (of His Majesty King
Peter's Royal Regiment of Life Guards) was as
pleasant an acquaintance and as fine-looking a
young fellow as you could wish to meet. The Ser-
vian soldier is a slouching, ill-favoured lout, but
his officers are generally as comely and smartly-
groomed as those of any army in Europe. Bul-
garians say that if King Milan's staff had devoted
as much attention to drill and tactics as to the
cut of their hair and tunics, the Servian Army
would never have been so unmercifully thrashed
at Slivnitza. But this is doubtful, for the
Bulgarian Atkins has always proved twice as
plucky and reliable as his Servian neighbour.
Anyway, Rastovitch was the Adonis of the
Belgrade garrison (which says a great deal) and
the envious glances of dully garbed civilians
followed the handsome Guardsman as he clinked
down the " Teratsia," resplendent in the green
and gold of the household cavalry suggestive
perhaps of comic opera, but attractive neverthe-
less, to the fair sex. It was on such an occasion
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(as he was coming off guard at the Palace) that
I chanced to meet Nikolai (whose acquaintance
I had previously made at a dance) and he
promptly linked arms, in his genial, offhand way,
and carried me off to breakfast at a fashion-
able restaurant a proceeding I should certainly
have resented had I been aware of my friend's
past history. For I had yet to learn that the
little cross of white enamel which glittered on
my host's breast is justly regarded by all decent
Servians as the " mark of the Beast," being an
" order of merit " worn only by the actual
assassins of their late King and Queen. Un-
fortunately it was only at the conclusion of the
meal, when my host had departed to his military
duties, that Jones, of the London Daily Racket,
facetiously inquired, from an adjoining table,
whether " lunching with a murderer had affected
my appetite " ? For it only then transpired that
this curled and scented dandy had himself struck
down and shamefully mutilated the late Queen
under such conditions as would have repelled
the most degraded ruffian in the East End of
London.
This deplorable event is now a matter of ancient
history, and I should not have referred to it at
length but for the fact that a very garbled and
confused account of the crime appeared, at the
time, in the English newspapers. I made the
acquaintance while in Belgrade of several of the
chief actors, besides Rastovitch, and notably of
one, a general officer, who was the first to break
MURDERERS IN UNIFORM 145
into the death chamber, and who related to me,
in the course of several interviews, what actually
occurred on the night in question down to the
very smallest detail. I am therefore in a position
to give the reader probably the first absolutely
authentic account of the assassination of the late
King and Queen of Servia which has ever been
published in England.
Three years have now elapsed since that
starlit night of terror, but it is still recalled
with a shudder by those who witnessed its doings.
The crime was so cleverly planned that very few
people, save the conspirators, had the slightest
suspicion that Royalty was menaced. The people
of Servia had no hand whatever in this so-
called " revolution," which was confined to a
few of the extreme Radicals and a military
" clique " consisting of men of all ages from
grizzled veterans to boys in their teens. One
Colonel Maschin was probably the prime mover
in the conspiracy ; for this man (a brother of
Draga's first husband) had always been a bitter
enemy of his sister-in-law, whose influence he
erroneously feared would injure his prospects. I
frequently saw him in Belgrade an elderly,
Jewish-looking individual, of dapper exterior and
charming manners, probably acquired abroad,
for the Colonel had served as military attach^
in Vienna, and was Servian Delegate to the
Peace Conference at the Hague !
It was arranged that the assassination should
be carried out solely by officers, but amongst
10
146
the civilians engaged in the plot was one George
Gengich, then Minister of Commerce, who had
violently opposed the King's marriage, and
had once actually informed His Majesty that the
latter's fiancee had been his own mistress a
foul calumny ridiculed even by the man's own
partisans. For this Gengich was exiled, but
was unfortunately pardoned and permitted to
return to Belgrade, where he at once set to work
to conspire against the ruler from whom he
had received only kindness and consideration.
Of the rest of the " 83 " (as the regicides are
called in Servia) it is unnecessary to speak in
detail, for they merely acted under orders and
were paid for their services by the Eadical
party, Maschin receiving 1,200 and the others
sums in proportion. It is, of course, impossible
to regard these men, young or old, without
disgust and aversion, and yet one cannot but
admire the cool audacity with which this hand-
ful of scoundrels seized the capital, coerced an
army of two hundred thousand men, and pro-
claimed themselves rulers of Servia. And all
within twenty-four hours !
It was finally decided to carry out the project
at dead of night, in the Palace itself, and upon
the 10th of June, this being the anniversary
of Prince Michael's murder in Topchider Park.*
I have said that the murders came as a thunder-
* As a matter of fact the massacre did not actually
commence until one o'clock ion the morning of the llth
of June, 1903.
Vace fcge 146.
COLONEL MASCHIN. Photo by Milan Jovanovitch, Belgrade.
MURDERERS IN UNIFORM 147
bolt to all but the conspirators themselves, but
one person at least outside their number was
not wholly unprepared for the terrible fate awaiting
her. This was Queen Draga, who was continually
haunted by the fear of assassination up to the
very morning of her death. A French palmist
was perhaps answerable for this, for Draga (when
Mme. Maschin) had once accompanied Queen
Nathalie to consult the former in Paris. At the
Queen's request Draga' s hand was read by the
cheiromant who predicted that its owner would
one day attain an illustrious position but that her
life would then be in the direst peril. Some ten
days also before the King's death His Majesty
received a letter from Mons. Mijatovitch, the
Servian Minister in London, imploring him to
beware of treachery, and warning him that his
assassination had been predicted in a London
drawing-room by a crystal-gazer who, although
unacquainted with Belgrade, had minutely de-
scribed the scene of His Majesty's death, and the
room in which it subsequently took place.*
Indeed for some weeks prior to this communica-
tion anonymous letters of warning had reached
the Palace almost daily from army officers who
had been invited to join the conspiracy, but had
refused. But the King laughingly disregarded
these documents, and most of them were con-
* This was afterwards confirmed by several persons who
were present at the stance, including (I am informed) Mr.
W. T. Stead.
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signed to the waste-paper basket. Nevertheless,
by desire of the Queen, the guard at the Palace
was doubled, and there was even talk of reopen-
ing a subterranean passage beneath it which would
have afforded a means of escape, but which had
been bricked up, on his accession, by Alexander's
orders.
On the day preceding the crime, eighty-six
officers took a solemn oath that they would slay
not only their rulers, but any comrade who turned
traitor to their cause. A list was then made of
other persons to be " removed," including the
Prime Minister, the Minister of War, and the
Queen's two brothers, artillery officers then quar-
tered in Belgrade. The escape of the elder was
especially to be guarded against, for Draga was
said to have persuaded the King to name her
relative (in the event of there being no direct heir
to the throne) as his successor.
Colonel Maschin completed his preparations in
a manner which left no loophole of escape. Four
line regiments and a battery of artillery were to
assist in the operations, the soldiers being told
that it had been decided to carry off Draga, and
that, in case of a disturbance, their presence was
needed to protect the King. Colonel Naumovitch,
an aide-de-camp, was to admit a party of con-
spirators into the Palace, while the rest were to
visit the dwellings of other victims in the city,
under various pretexts, and dispatch them as
quickly as possible. The password of the night
was to be " Tsver," which in Servian signifies " a
l) C cu
s
ill
MURDERERS IN UNIFORM 149
Wild Beast," and it was not inappropriate to the
occasion.
King Alexander in those days resided in the
" Konak," or old Turkish Palace which used to
stand at right angles to the recently built and
gorgeous edifice now occupied by Peter I. The
late ruler had simple tastes, and preferred the
whitewashed but comfortable building which had
once housed a humble Pasha, to its more preten-
tious neighbour, with its walls of granite, towering
domes, and Golden Eagles. Gilt railings and a
pretty garden used to separate the old "Konak"
from the main street, and the long, low building,
with its balconies and white Venetians, looked more
like the villa of some prosperous tradesman than
the home of Koyalty. But Mr. Herbert Vivian,
who knew it well, says that the " Konak," though
outwardly commonplace, was luxuriously furnished
and the essence of comfort.
"A doorway hung with strings of heavy beads
gave entrance to the principal reception-room,
with a comfortable balcony overlooking the garden,
and this apartment was entirely furnished with
characteristic products of the country. Bright
Pirot rugs predominated, and there were a number
of dainty Servian embroideries of the most harmo-
nious colours. Next came Queen Draga's boudoir
(where she generally received visitors), simply but
tastefully furnished, and containing a large collec-
tion of photographs of King Alexander at every
age. The walls were covered with silken panels
of a delicate bronze colour. Next to it was the
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royal bed-chamber, a room with rose-coloured
draperies and walls hung with " Ikons " and sacred
images of the Orthodox Church. A door beside
the bed opened into a room with three steps
descending into a marble bath. On the opposite
side was another door leading into a kind of closet
where the Queen's robes and dresses were kept."
And in this last-named apartment, usually so
dissociated from thoughts of death and its ghastly
surroundings, the hideous massacre took place.
CHAPTEE XII
THE TBAGEDY AND AFTER
TEN o'clock on the night of the 10th of June,
1902, was the appointed hour for a general rendez-
vous of the regicides which, in order to avert
suspicion, was held in various parts of the city.
These distinguished officers and gentlemen passed
the evening in various ways, some at the Military
Club at one end of the city, others at an open-air'
cafi near the Kalamegedan Gardens at the other ;
and the majority in houses of ill-fame. But in
every resort, reputable or otherwise, drink was so
freely supplied that, towards midnight, many of
Maschin's followers were in an advanced stage of
intoxication. Perhaps the most disgraceful scenes
were enacted at the " Servian Crown," the afore-
said open-air caft, for here, as the landlord himself
told me, " Champagne flowed like water and
cognac like wine." The Public Gardens adjoin
this place, and people strolling there glanced
curiously at the flushed and noisy group of
officers sitting at little tables under the acacia-
trees, and joining loudly and derisively in the
refrain of Draga's March, which some strolling
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" Tsiganes " were compelled to play over and over
again. And yet the music had been composed,
not a month previously, in honour of the wretched
woman these ruffians had condemned to a terrible
death. The party assembled here consisted chiefly
of cavalry subalterns who, when towards one
o'clock a.m. they set out for the Palace, reeled
down the quiet and starlit street like drunken
Cossacks. Had not Maschin and his staider
colleagues kept their wits about them, the whole
affair would probably have ended in a ridiculous
-fiasco.
What a contrast is this to the last day on earth
of Alexander and his martyred Queen ! On the
10th of June the King was in excellent spirits.
His Majesty was employed throughout the morning
with state affairs, and then, the midday breakfast
having intervened, he played croquet on the gravel
court at the back of the Palace with his private
secretary, a brother of the Queen's favourite lady-
in-waiting. It was a lovely day, and Draga sat
out for awhile watching the game and merrily
chaffing her husband at his ill-success, for the King
was a poor player. Presently the sky became over-
cast and rain began to fall, driving the party
indoors, where Alexander devoted the afternoon to
his favourite studies. At eight o'clock dinner was
served, one of the guests being the Premier, who
also was doomed to die that night. It was noticed
that during the meal the King became as silent as
he had been gay and talkative earlier in the day,
and the Queen, remarking upon the change, it was
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 153
attributed to the sultry, oppressive weather. During
the evening a military band played as usual in
front of the Palace, and the royal party sat out on
the balcony in view of the passing crowds. At
eleven the music ceased and the pair retired to
their apartments, but not immediately to rest.
For a case, containing some of Paquin's latest
creations, had arrived that day from Paris, and
an inspection of its dainty contents was still in
progress when it was abruptly ended by the arrival
of the regicides about two o'clock in the morning.
The entry into the Palace caused considerable
noise, for the treacherous aide-de-camp who was
to have admitted his confederates had so re-
peatedly partaken of stimulants that when the
time came for action he had fallen into a drunken
slumber. The gates were therefore blown asunder
with a charge of dynamite, the inebriated officer
inside them being instantly killed by the explosion,
which fate, as the King had always treated him as
a personal friend, was justly deserved. Aroused
by the deafening report Petrovitch, an equerry,
one of the handsomest and most popular men in
Belgrade, came hurrying to the spot and sacri-
ficed his life for the King and Queen. Boldly
facing Maschin he demanded the meaning of the
intrusion, and was told that unless he instantly
revealed the hiding-place of their Majesties he
would be shot. Realising that everything might
be gained by delay, Petrovitch replied that they had
both taken refuge in the cellars. Here over an hour
was passed groping about in the semi-darkness, the
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faithful equerry doing all he could to gain time,
and thus perhaps ensure the escape of the fugitives.
Nearly an hour passed while the regicides searched
every hole and corner, peering into recesses, over-
turning barrels and ransacking the whole place.
Gradually they grew more and more exasperated,
but Petrovitch remained perfectly calm, and kept
up the pretence of assisting in the search. At last
it became obvious that the victims were not below
ground, and the assassins, now convinced of their
guide's treachery, resumed their search through-
out the Palace, leaving the unfortunate Petrovitch
riddled with bullets on the cellar stairs.
During this search the King and Queen, re-
alising their imminent peril, had locked themselves
into the small room already described, which
served as a dress closet. Before doing so, however,
Alexander rushed to the window, and, seeing the
courtyard crowded with soldiers, smashed the
window-pane, and called loudly for assistance.
But the men, believing that they had been brought
there solely to protect the King, gazed stolidly up
at the window, but made no sign. Shortly after-
wards approaching cries and footsteps warned the
fugitives that no time was to be lost, and the agony
of fear and apprehension which the unhappy Draga
must have undergone while her assassins, now
maddened by drink and bloodshed, were tearing
down curtains, smashing furniture, and wildly dis-
charging revolvers in all directions, will never be
known. Even his enemies admit that Alexander's
last moments were characterised by almost super-
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 155
human coolness and heroism. Both he and Draga
must have known, from the moment Maschin and
his cut-throats burst into the sleeping apartment,
that their fate was sealed, although it took the
assassins a considerable time to find the door of
the dress closet, which was papered over and
flush with the wall. To break this open with
hatchets was then the work of an instant, and
the royal pair stood face to face with their
murderers. Both were partially dressed, the King
wearing trousers and a red silk shirt, while the
Queen, who only an hour before had been en-
gaged in trying on new gowns from Paris, was
clad in a petticoat, white silk stays, and one
yellow silk stocking, the other having probably
been removed while preparing to retire. Draga
was cowering in a corner shaking with terror,
while the King, revolver in hand, tried to shield
her person from the gaze of the brutal intruders.
Colonel Maschin was the first to stride up to
the King with a document for his signature a
promise to banish Draga for ever from Servia, or
abdicate. Alexander made no reply, but fired point-
blank at the speaker missing him upon which a
volley fired by his companions laid the King low,
an explosive bullet having killed him on the spot.
It was now Draga's turn, and the wretched
woman begged so piteously for mercy that her
screams were heard in the main street. Colonel
Maschin (who had expressly demanded the privi-
lege of killing her), then fired at his sister-in-law,
but as the latter was now partially protected by
156 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
the prostrate body of her husband, the shot missed
its mark, and one Lieutenant Saurich, who was
just behind his chief, fired over the latter' s shoulder,
wounding his victim in the breast. Then fol-
lowed a series of outrages too revolting to de-
scribe. Bullet after bullet was fired into the now
lifeless bodies by their maddened assailants, and
the faces of both the King and Queen were merci-
lessly gashed with pistol-butts, hatchets, and
sabres until not a feature remained intact.* The
corpses were then thrown into the gardens below,
where they lay until the Eussian Minister found
them at daybreak. The King had lost the fingers
of both hands, and had received no less than thirty-
six bullet wounds, the Queen only sixteen, but her
body was literally hacked to pieces, and had been
subjected after death to an unmentionable outrage.
And so great was the tension and dread of the
mysterious but powerful gang which had organised
the coup d'dtat, that even Charikof, the Russian
Minister, dared not remove the bodies, but only
ventured to order some gardeners to turn a hose on
to the dead in order to remove the blood which
covered their remains and the gravel path around
them. Finally they were carried into the Palace,
where a hurried autopsy was held by Maschin's
orders a report being published a few hours later
stating that the King was insane and that the
Queen could never have borne an heir to the
throne.
* A correspondent of the Neue Freie Presse told me that
when he saw the room next morning it resembled a shambles.
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 157
After the murders a general looting of the Palace
took place, and the soldiers on guard were told that
they could take whatever they pleased in the shape
of plunder a privilege which was freely made
use of. This was denied by my informant, but
the fact remains that for months afterwards valu-
ables which had belonged to the King and Queen
were on sale in the pawnshops of Belgrade. Forty-
three people were shot down that night, including
the Premier, the Queen's brothers, and even one
of the conspirators who had shown some signs of
mercy. This was a young subaltern who was
ordered to shoot a prominent official, but the lad
remonstrated with one of his leaders, pleading that
he could not murder the man to whose daughter
he was engaged to be married. Without a word
of warning the boy was shot dead, and a substitute
procured and dispatched to carry out the sentence.
Colonel Maschin's detestation of Draga did not
cease with her death. The rulers of Servia are
usually interred in pomp and splendour within the
precincts of Belgrade Cathedral ; but this the
Colonel would not hear of in this case, selecting
the cemetery of St. Mark, a pauper burial-place,
as the last resting-place of the royal victims. Only
soldiery and the police were permitted to attend
the funeral which took place at midnight, the
coffins being driven to the graveside in a prison
cart used for the interment of criminals. During
the whole of the previous day the bodies were ex-
posed to the public gaze in a room of the old
" Konak," the mutilated remains of the King being
158 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
garbed in plain dress-clothes without orders of any
kind, and those of the Queen in a gay pink ball-
gown, a costume designed by Maschin to ridicule
even the dead. But here he was no worse than
his comrades, some of whom even went so far as
to spit upon the bodies of the dead.
One evening, towards sunset, I strolled up to
the lonely graveyard and entered the little white-
washed chapel where the last of the Obrenovitch
rulers lie at rest. The day had been bright and
sunny, but the sky was now darkened by hurrying
clouds, and a chilly breeze which moaned through
some cypress trees was well in keeping with this
scene of mournful associations. The grey-haired
veteran in charge of the place had witnessed the
funeral, and told me how the service had been
gabbled over the graves by a couple of popes. No
friends or relatives of the dead were permitted to
attend,* and floral offerings were strictly forbidden
although a tiny wreath of withered azaleas had
been secretly placed there since by an unknown
hand. Two black wooden crosses leant carelessly
* On All Souls' Day it is usual for the popes to recite a
prayer, burn some incense, and bless every grave, even those
of paupers. In 1903 this ceremony would have been omitted
at the graves of the late sovereigns had not the poor women of
Belgrade repaired to St. Mark's and compelled the pope to do
his duty. When he pronounced the words, " May God give
peace to His servants King Alexander and Queen Draga," the
whole congregation wept loudly and bitterly, and one by one
they bent down to kiss the simple crosses which mark the last
resting-place of the royal victims. " A Servian Tragedy," by
Herbert Vivian.
i
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 159
against the wall and bearing the names "Alexander
Obrenovitch" and " Draga Obrenovitch," roughly
scrawled in white chalk, mark the spot. The
crosses stand side by side, but half a dozen other
graves separate the remains of the King and Queen.
" She shall not even have that satisfaction,"
Maschin is reported to have said.
Perhaps the most curious point about the whole
terrible affair is the manner in which the announce-
ment of the assassination and the election of the
regicides by themselves as a provisory Govern-
ment was received by the Servian people the day
after the crime, not only in Belgrade but through-
out the provinces. Men and women seem to have
been terrorised from the very first into a state of
passive obedience suggestive of an infant class at
a Sunday School. All day long regiments of
cavalry and the line and batteries of artillery
paraded the streets, horses and guns being
decorated with evergreens, while the crowd looked
on with apathy and indifference, although quite
two-thirds of the populace silently condemned the
atrocious outrage which heralded another dynasty.
Yet no one dared to raise a voice in dissent, and
windows were draped with gay banners and other
signs of rejoicing under compulsion even those
of the relatives of murdered officials. Eadical
members of the Skupshtina drove about the
city haranguing the people, while military bands
were stationed about the squares and streets play-
ing national airs and lively tunes from sunrise to
sunset. "Gala" performances were given at the
160 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
opera, and theatres, restaurants, and wine shops
remained open all night. The chief object of the
regicides was to make people forget the poor souls
so ruthlessly butchered, and, for a time, it probably
succeeded. At any rate no one dared to display
anything but satisfaction at the sudden change of
regime, or betray the disgust and horror which
all decent-minded citizens must have felt at the
ghastly outrage which had preceded it.
So ended the Servian tragedy, which for cold-
blooded brutality has seldom been equalled in the
darkest ages of the past.
The present King of Servia (a grandson of the
famous Kara George) is now sixty years of age.
Of late years Peter I. has resided chiefly in Paris
and Greneva, although he much preferred life in the
former city to the rustic simplicity of Switzerland.
While in Paris an American bar near the Eue du
Helder was the favourite resort of Prince Kara-
georgevitch, and here he might be seen almost any
afternoon seated on a high stool and sipping
cocktails in rather queer company of both sexes.
Up to the time of Peter's accession his life had
been solely one of pleasure, or as much of it as
his slender means could procure. His favourite
amusement was gambling, his literature the Gil
Bias and yellow-backed novels ; in short, the man
differed in no respect from any other lazy, pleasure-
loving " Boulevardier." But unlike many of the
latter, who generally run to seed and a stomach
after the forties, King Peter is a spare, military-
looking man, with sharp features, grey moustache,
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 161
and restless eyes. He used to look like a
" Rastaqouere," and his utter incapability to fill
an exalted and important position is shown by
certain events which occurred when news of the
murders reached Paris. The Temps is a serious,
matter-of-fact journal, but it thus describes how
Karageorgevitch celebrated his accession to the
Servian throne :
"Last night," says the Temps, "they were
expecting Prince Kara at the Bar du Helder. The
company composed of elegant men with eye-
glasses screwed into their eyes, and of women in
light dresses with sparkling jewels was tremulous
with excitement. Sprawling upon a stool, the pro-
prietor of the place, a friend of the Prince, was
holding a reception over the counter. All her friends
had come to present their homage, and a touching
idea! the whole saloon was adorned with little
Servian flags, which fluttered in an atmosphere
of champagne cocktails. Every moment a new
arrival came to congratulate the mistress of the
house : ' G-ood day, Princess ! ' . . . Towards
evening the Prince arrived, pallid with excitement,
with a bristling moustache and an open hand. All
rose in one movement of enthusiasm, and the
unanimous cry of ' Vive Kara ! Vive la Serbie ! '
greeted his entry."
A dinner party followed, given by the newly
proclaimed monarch to his distinguished associates
at a cafe near the Madeleine, and the company
did not break up until the small hours. Thus
did Peter I. embark upon a new and responsible
11
162 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
career ; but the superficial, almost childish charac-
ter of the man is indicated by the fact that his
first thought on hearing of his accession was to
rush off and order a gorgeous crown from a
jeweller in the Rue de la Paix !
The members of the present monarch's family are
neither more intelligent nor attractive than their
august parent, whose wife, a Montenegrin princess,
died some years ago. The Crown Prince is a
reckless, headstrong youth, whose riotous habits
have already rendered him rather unpopular, the
Crown Princess what Americans call a " homely "-
looking girl, with sallow features, and a figure not
improved by a primitive taste in gowns. Princess
Helene is, indeed, painfully unattractive, but, like
most plain women, imagines that her charms are
irresistible an innocent illusion which, let us
hope, may long continue. I frequently saw both
her Highness and the Crown Prince driving or
riding about the capital, but never their father,
who seldom leaves the Palace, unless it be to at-
tend the Skupshtina or perform other state duties.
Some say that Peter would cheerfully abdicate
to-morrow, for "the fierce light that beats upon a
throne" is by no means suited to his Bohemian
temperament, and the formality and restraint of
a court are as distasteful to him as the per-
petual police surveillance which is needed for his
protection. In the early days of his reign the
king's chief amusement was to wander about the
capital, incognito, and, like a modern Haroun Al
Raschid, hear what his subjects said about him,
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 163
but, for obvious reasons, tbis practice was
soon discontinued. Tbe King is absolutely
devoid of firmness. Upon his accession he pro-
claimed that the punishment of the regicides
should be his first consideration, and yet on
reaching Belgrade he was hypnotised into a
subjection as abject as that shown by his subjects.
In one case only did he show determination the
razing of the old Konak to the ground, which was
carried out by his orders immediately after the
coronation, and notwithstanding the opposition of
Maschin, who wished the building to remain as
the record of " a glorious deed accomplished by
Servian patriots ! "
The installation was hardly a success, for his
people soon discovered that Peter's protracted
residence in Lutetia had sent them a sovereign but
slightly acquainted with the Servian language,
which he speaks like a foreigner. Belgrade was
crowded for the occasion, but there was no en-
thusiasm, and nobody seemed to care whether a
Karageorgevitch or one of the regicides occupied
the throne now that the legitimate ruler had been
removed. The following day two peasants were
gazing into a shop window, where portraits of
Peter I. were exposed for sale.
"Who is that?" said one.
" That is the new King," was the reply.
" But why did they kill the last one ? "
" I do not know; perhaps because he was not
liked by the army."
"But supposing the army does not like this one? "
164 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
" Well ! They will kill him too ! " And this
expressed the feeling of the general public at the
time.
It would also appear to be the King's opinion,
for the measures taken for his protection are as
elaborate as those which guard the Tsar of Russia.
Not only have sentries around the Palace been
trebled, but every night a cavalry regiment is kept
under arms in the vicinity. Moreover, the sub-
terranean passage which used to lead from the
old Konak to a place of safety (and which
Alexander I. rashly had bricked up), has now been
hastily reopened. The restless nights of Peter I.
are therefore solaced by the thought that, in case
of a sudden attack, there is always a bolt-hole
through which he may perchance reach Austrian
territory, and thence return in safety to the Rue
du Helder, and his beloved Paris ! For signs are
not wanting of treason in the land. Only a week
after his arrival Peter sustained a severe shock in
connection with the Jubilee stamp which was
struck in commemoration of his coronation. The
stamp bears the heads of the present ruler and
his ancestor "Black George," and at first sight
the clever device of some revolutionary artist is
unnoticeable. But turn it upside down and the
gashed and ghastly features of the murdered King
stand out with unmistakable clearness just as
they appeared when Alexander and his consort
were discovered in the grey dawn of that summer's
morning in the gardens of the old "Konak."
Needless to state, the issue was at once prohibited.
CORONATION STAMP OF PETE:: I.
(The reversed stamp shows the face of the murdered King Alexander.)
''o fact page 164.
THE TRAGEDY AND AFTER 165
Under present conditions Belgrade is an im-
possible place to live in, for even foreigners are
subjected to the most vexatious police regulations,
the Press is muzzled, and harmless citizens are
imprisoned for months together on mere suspicion
of ill-favour towards the reigning dynasty. The
special correspondent of a leading Vienna journal
told me that he had twice been imprisoned for
publishing the most moderate article on the
internal policy of Servia, and had since taken up
his residence at Semlin (a couple of miles away,
in Austrian territory), preferring to travel to and
fro every day to the risk of another possible
sojourn in a foul Servian gaol. The secret police
is as active and indiscriminate here as it ever
was in Petersburg, and freedom of speech is as
restricted as it has ever been in Eussia. Indeed
the sale of any article which may recall the
memory of the late King and Queen is strictly
forbidden, and I had the greatest difficulty in
obtaining the portraits of their late Majesties
which appear in this volume. The bookseller
from whom I purchased them stood in fear and
trembling, and with one eye on the door, lest some
mouchard should walk in ; and I had to repair to
the same place at night and with the utmost
secrecy to inspect a portion of the late King's
library which this loyal tradesman had secured
at the public sale of his Majesty's effects. Closely-
written notes on the margins of the more serious
works showed what an earnest student Alexander
must have been. Many of the volumes were
166 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
English, and it was interesting to note that the
most numerous were those of Carlyle and Herbert
Spencer, and in light literature the novels of Sir
Conan Doyle and Hall Caine.
That King Peter's days are numbered is the
general opinion in Belgrade and especially in the
provinces, where the army is by no means uni-
versally loyal. A distinguished general I met in
one of the provincial towns confidently predicted
that the King must either be assassinated or
deposed within two or three years. "And then
who will reign? " I asked, and was informed that
a very strong party was in favour of a German
ruler Prince Francis Joseph of Battenberg, who
was married in May, 1897, to a Montenegrin
princess, but who at present has no children.
A natural son of Prince Milan Milan Cristich
who resides in Italy, is the last hope of the
house of Obrenovitch, but he is a weakly, delicate
lad, and in any case it is hardly likely that an
illegitimate heir to the crown would ever be
tolerated by the Servian nation.
CHAPTEK XIII
"THE GABDEN OP THE BALKANS"
SERVIA has been aptly christened "The Poor Man's
Paradise," for we travelled from end to end of the
country without encountering a single beggar,
while the agricultural labourer seemed almost as
affluent as a small farmer in England. But
Servians have a prettier name for their native
land: "The Garden of the Balkans," which it
undoubtedly is, being the most picturesque and
fertile of all the Balkan States. The farther you
roam inland from the flat, marshy banks of the
Danube the richer becomes the soil and more
beautiful the scenery, although this is not, like
Bosnia, a land of comfort and security. Here you
must rough it, sometimes severely, away from the
railway, and some of the country roads are not
over-safe at night-time, as we ourselves were fated
to discover. But this was a mere accident, and
the reader could probably explore the wildest parts
of this State for an indefinite period without
meeting with a similar experience, and with far
less danger to life and property than a trip through
Greece or Sicily would entail.
In spring-time Servia is an idyllic place to travel
167
168 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
in, especially for those weary of the beaten tracks
of Europe, but I should add that dirt and dis-
comfort reign almost everywhere throughout the
provinces, and those who are squeamish in the
matter of cuisine and clean sheets will do well
to defer their visit until they can travel with Cook's
"coupons" which time, in view of the feverish
quest of the English tourist for new playgrounds,
can scarcely be far distant. If you have travelled
from London to, say, Eastbourne, you are already
familiar with the line from Belgrade to Kragu-
jevatz, our first stage on the way to the Bulgarian
frontier, for the train sped through a country
watered by clear streams and broken by occasional
glimpses of some stately mansion, surrounded by
picturesque lawns and woodland, for all the world
like a landscape in England. And many an
English railway company would do well to sub-
stitute the luxurious corridor-cars in which we
travelled for the comfortless carriages still in use,
notwithstanding the mysterious tragedies which
have rendered them, of late, unpleasantly notorious.
On the other hand, in Servia you travel very
slowly, and I was constantly reminded of Mark
Twain's journey through Texas when the famous
humourist implored an official to remove the cow-
catcher from the front of the engine and place
it in rear of the guard's van in case the cattle
should climb in and attack the passengers ! But
no one is ever in a hurry here, and punctuality
can be dispensed with by those who travel for
journalistic purposes !
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 169
It was difficult to get away from Belgrade where,
as in Kussia, hospitality is rather overdone, and
the passing guest is finally compelled to resort
to subterfuge before he is allowed to depart in
peace. But our stay in the capital was very
enjoyable, for although King Peter sternly refused
to grant me an audience (which decision was
perhaps due to the fact that I had occasionally
seen His Majesty in the Eue du Helder !)
invitations poured in from elsewhere, and the
friends we made assured us that they earnestly
desired the friendship of the English Govern-
ment, although they dared not openly proclaim
the fact. The terrorism which Maschin and his
colleagues have spread throughout the land
was indicated one day when I was walking
arm-in-arm with a prominent member of the
Skupshtina who had shown us some hospi-
tality. This man had always denounced the
regicides, and eulogised my country, but when
Colonel Maschin, suddenly emerging from a side
street, encountered us on the Teratsia, my
friend dropped my arm as though I had sud-
denly developed symptoms of bubonic plague.
" You must pardon me," said he, when Maschin,
whose eagle eye had rapidly taken in the situation,
had disappeared, "but he does not like English-
men ! " I made no reply, but silently marvelled
at the meek submission of the Servian racet, and
wondered what an Irishman would have done
under similar circumstances !
Another incident which occurred during our stay
170 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
in Belgrade serves to show the bitter hatred of King
Peter and his immediate entourage for England.
A photographer had invited me to inspect his
collection of Servian views, and I was looking
over the latter when a young subaltern in the
Guards entered the studio to make an appointment
for a sitting with the artist. The latter having
left the room for a moment, we conversed in
French, with which language I am so familiar that
the stranger mistook my nationality, until I dis-
closed it and inquired where I could find the
British charge d'affaires.
" I know neither the house nor the man," was
the curt reply, and abruptly turning on his heel
my military friend left the shop without fulfilling
the object of his visit.
Presently the photographer returned. " Do you
know that gentleman?" he inquired. "That is
A , who only returned yesterday from Paris,
where he was compelled to go for a time
on account of his atrocious conduct on the
night of the murders. Poor Queen Draga's dead
body Ah ! I see you know the rest," said
the man ; adding, with a laugh, " No wonder he
bolted on hearing you were an Englishman ! "
Even the saddest occurrence generally has its
ludicrous side, and it was impossible to help
smiling at the speaker's account of his doings
on that fatal night. " Bullets were flying like
hail," said the little man, his face lengthening
at the mere thought; "and imagine my feelings
at seeing them spattering on the walls all round
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 171
this beautiful glass studio, which was only
just finished, and had cost me a fortune to
build!"
A pleasant journey of a few hours brought us
to Kragujevatz, for, as I have said, Servia has
little to learn in the art of railway travelling.
The smallest comforts of travellers are seen to,
and the tiniest stations embowered in flowers
and greenery, with a restaurant and vine-
trellised arbours where you may sit out on
summer nights, smoke and drink coffee, and
await your train in placid content. Each car
contains a map of the district you are travelling
through a plan which saves much confusion
and might be advantageously adopted on English
trains. Lastly, first-class fares in Servia are so
cheap that even officers of the army, who are
miserably paid, seldom travel second class. A
good hour was allowed for dejeuner at Lapovo
where a side line to Kragujevatz leaves the
main track from Belgrade to Sofia. The meal
was served in a garden in much-needed coolness
and shade, for my pocket thermometer registered
71 (in the month of April ! ). A cloudless sky,
the fragrance from some beds of violets and
narcissi, and drowsy hum of insects, rendered the
meal an idyllic one, although it was composed
chiefly of " Kalbsbraten," fruit, and thin Servian
wine, which latter daily aroused Mackenzie's ire
and indignation.
" Well, this has been a wonderfully cheap
trip," I remarked, during breakfast, to the Ur-
172 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
banite. " But you must remember that we have
always drunk the wines of the country ! "
" Remember ! " muttered the Scot, with sup-
pressed irony. " Great heavens, man ! do you
think I am ever likely to forget it ? "
But my friend recovered his complacency under
the soothing influence of Turkish coffee and a
cigar. For the most confirmed grouser would
have felt at peace with the world in that shady
arbour set in the midst of greenery and flowers,
while, to enhance the Arcadian surroundings, a
peasant in a neighbouring meadow was playing,
while tending his flocks, an old-fashioned lute.
Only one thing was out of the picture, and that
was Fritz, a native of Heidelberg, in frayed and
greasy suit of sables, who ministered to our wants
and informed me that within a year over a
hundred of his compatriots had settled down as
waiters in Servia where wages are higher than
even in England. But this fact ceased to surprise
me when I had travelled through the Balkans and
met German emigrants in every town, and almost
every village. On the other hand, I doubt
whether there are half a dozen Englishmen (in
all) in this land of plenty, so replete with
golden opportunities for the man of energy and
small capital.
" You are always pondering in England what
to do with your sons," said an Austrian merchant
to me one day in Belgrade, " Why not send them
to Servia with a capital of, say, ^6300, and I will
guarantee that they double it within three years.
FRITZ."
a lwto by Author.
*face page 172.
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 173
Land, and plenty of it, is to be had for the
asking, and every facility would be given by the
Government to English enterprise, which I
can assure you is sadly needed to develop this
country."
Kragujevatz is a quiet, sleepy place, not unlike
an English country town, with its cobbled market-
place from which diverge half a dozen narrow
streets so atrociously paved that a very short stroll
suggested rest and a pair of carpet slippers ! The
place is usually the picture of stagnation, but on
market-days it wakes up, and the thoroughfares
are then blocked with flocks and herds, and huge
waggons piled up with produce swarming in from
all parts of the district. Nearly one-third of the
country immediately around this town is farmed
by Austrians, whose numbers are yearly increasing ;
and no wonder, for land is to be had almost for
the asking, and yet is of a kind that when
" tickled with a hoe laughs with a harvest."
Our travels through Servia extended as far as
the Turkish frontier and thence back to the
railway at Nisch roughly speaking, two hundred
miles through a region so fertile that I ceased
to wonder at the conclusion of the trip that
paupers have no business here. Fifty francs will
purchase a plot of land that will keep a man going
for the rest of his natural life, and so it is from
Belgrade to three points of the compass south,
east, and west. Servia is an agricultural El
Dorado, and if the untutored peasant can now
make a living by antediluvian methods, what
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might not be accomplished with capital and
machinery ? I doubt whether there is at present
a steam-plough throughout the whole country,
and yet I met at least half a dozen farmers at
Kragujevatz with incomes ranging from .300 to
500 a year. Every season there are two crops
of hay, wheat, and barley; while maize, oats,
hemp, and tobacco grow like weeds. In pig-
breeding alone there are millions to be made, and
the rearing of horses and cattle on a large scale
would be equally lucrative.
And who is skimming the cream of all this?
The Germans ! Not only as agriculturists,
for they own more than half the shops in
Kragujevatz, stores for the sale of all kinds of
goods farming implements, wearing apparel,
saddlery, groceries, and even tobacco-pipes from
the Fatherland. I searched in vain throughout
Servia for goods from other countries, but nearly
all imported articles bore the now too familiar
legend " Made in Germany " !
Kragujevatz is the headquarters of an Army
Corps, the officers of which rendered our short
stay here a very agreeable one. And I here dis-
covered that the regicides are regarded with as
much mistrust and aversion by provincial garrisons
as by the citizens of Belgrade, which fact caused
me to wonder that some combined movement had
not been organised to overthrow them. Such
a plan could scarcely fail to succeed, yet
Maschin's hypnotic influence had apparently re-
strained even General B , the Commander of
AT THE WELL.
A RAILWAY STATION
Photo by Author.
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 175
Kragujevatz, and one of the bravest of men, from
attempting to carry it out.
The G-eneral permitted me to visit all the
military establishments under his command, and
also furnished me with some facts regarding the
Servian Army which considerably modified the
poor opinion I had formed of the latter in
Belgrade. For here work, and not show, is the
order of the day, and these officers had something
better to do than to masquerade about the cafes
of the town in spurs and gold lace, playing cards
and drinking bad champagne with Viennese
cocottes. The garrison of Kragujevatz consisted of
about four thousand men (or one-third of the
population), but so admirably was discipline main-
tained that one scarcely realised the fact save
when moving artillery, the clatter of cavalry
and tramp of soldiers marching to the exercise
ground aroused one at dawn ^on week-days.
The men looked smart and well-equipped, but
their fagged, worn-out appearance confirmed a
statement made to me by a major of hussars that
ever since the disastrous war with Bulgaria they
had been worked off their legs. Nevertheless, the
Servian Army is now twice as efficient and well-
organised as it was in '86, although in my opinion
(and judging from what I afterwards saw) they
will never rival the Bulgarians.
I witnessed a field-day at Kragujevatz, and the
manoeuvres of the cavalry and artillery would have
compared favourably (on a small scale) with those
of any great European Power. But the line
176 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
regiments lacked smartness and dash, and had
evidently, as my friend termed it, been " drilled to
death." The same mistake has, I fancy, been
made of recent years in France, although the
Servian private is better housed and far better
fed than the French Piou Piou. The barracks
at Kragujevatz, for instance, were models of
cleanliness and comfort, and even then they were
inferior to those I afterwards visited at Nisch.
But the regimental bands were really excruciating,
as I found that day, when compelled to stand for
nearly an hour within a few yards of one, by the
saluting base.
A dinner at the cavalry barracks wound up a
pleasant day, and I have seldom visited a cheerier
or more hospitable mess than that of the
" Parachin Hussars." But it was irritating to
hear the English Army discussed (as, for some
occult reason, it generally is on the Continent) as
though it were about on a par with those of
Belgium or Switzerland. Foreigners generally
acknowledge the supremacy of our navy, but our
land forces, notwithstanding their glorious history,
are generally regarded abroad with utter indiffe-
rence, born no doubt of ignorance, but none the
less galling on that account.
Thus the following remark, made to me by an
artillery officer during the evening, was expressed
sincerely and only with friendly intent: " What
a pity," said he, " that we were not with you in
South Africa ! We would have wiped out the
Boers in three months ! But then your army is
so small ! "
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 177
And perhaps it is (numerically) compared even
with that of Servia. For the latter now numbers
180,000, which, with 90,000 Keserves of the 1st
and 70,000 of the 2nd class, make up the for-
midable total of 430,000 men. Every man in
Servia must join the colours for two years, after
which he is drafted into the Eeserves up till
the age of forty-five.
There is an arsenal at Kragujevatz, where
nearly one thousand hands were formerly em-
ployed, but since the Bulgarian campaign heavy
guns and rifles have been imported, and Kragu-
jevatz now turns out military requisites of all
kinds and a certain amount of ammunition, but
very few weapons. There is no question that,
given an ally, this country could render a good
account of herself at the present time but that
ally is wanting. At present, Eussia is almost as
cordially detested here as Bulgaria (which says a
great deal), for while the latter utterly crushed
Servia by force of arms eleven years ago,
she has always been despised by the Eussians,
rightly or wrongly, for cowardice on the field of
battle.
As General B remarked : " Every Servian
is a soldier and every soldier a Chauvinist," and
this is probably true until war is declared.
Then, as events have proved (at any rate within
the past thirty years), the warlike ardour of the
Servian perceptibly diminishes in proportion to
the gradual approach of his foe ! Nevertheless,
in 1901 the maintenance of Servia's army cost
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178 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
her nearly .700,000 out of a budget of about
3,000,000.
Our inn at Kragujevatz "TheTakova" was
a stuccoed and imposing edifice externally, but it
proved a whited sepulchre, as filthy and verminous
as a Siberian posthouse. Our meals were served
in a long, bare restaurant, where we discussed
unsavoury and greasy repasts to the discordant
groans of a string band composed of tawdrily clad
and much-berouged Austrian ladies. Electricity
has not yet reached this town, and though the
streets are lighted with gas we retired to rest in
our murky bedroom with a farthing dip. The
Michael Ulitza is the chief street and fashion-
able promenade, where on fine afternoons, judging
from the quaintly attired ladies of the town, one
might have been living in the days of the great
Napoleon ! The few exceptions were amongst the
wives and daughters of officers of the garrison who
had not passed their entire existence in Kragu-
jevatz, and whose gowns were therefore a little in
advance of the early Victorian era ! The shops,
even in the principal street, are very uninterest-
ing, for the traveller will find no curios in Servia.
Stores for the sale of farming implements and
groceries predominate, and it was painful to see
the rubbish foisted by Germany upon a gullible
peasantry. Sunlight soap was the only English
article which seemed to have reached this be-
nighted region, where I endeavoured to pur-
chase a bottle of brandy for medicinal purposes.
The best I could get was contained in a wired
"THE GARDEN OF THE BALKANS" 179
and gaily labelled flask bearing the signature of
some French firm, and I only discovered on reach-
ing the inn that the plausible shopman had
swindled me. For " Cognac " had been spelt
" KONIAK " by the local manufacturer !
Next to grocers, hairdressers seemed to pre-
dominate, and the Michael Ulitza was a perfect
avenue of gaily-striped barber's poles. But a word
of advice ! Take your own razors to Servia, or
indeed anywhere else in the Balkans, where
shaving brushes are unknown, and the operator
invariably uses a hot and grimy hand to lather
the face of his victim !
CHAPTEK XIV
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT
THERE is a dull, drab look about most Servian
towns, which seems out of place in a country
so nearly adjoining the bright and gorgeous East.
Kragujevatz, however, was more lively in this
respect than the other places we visited,
on account of its numerous cafds with gaily
striped awnings, and other establishments for
the sale of refreshments, chiefly consisting of the
local wines and " Slivovitch." My companion
has already spoken somewhat disparagingly of
the former, which, as produced at present, are
perhaps better than no wine at all, and all is
said. But Servian vintages could certainly be
made as wholesome and popular as those of
France and Germany with proper care, for there
is no lack of the raw material grapes, both white
and black, and of excellent flavour. The nume-
rous cellars at Kragujevatz were more suggestive
of Spain or Italy than the Balkans cool, dark
places, cunningly contrived above-ground, where
you could step in from the street and quench your
thirst on a hot day with a pint of red or white
180
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 181
" Kragujevatz " grown within gunshot of the
town, and drawn, like ale, from the wood, by a
rosy-cheeked waitress. But these wines are
absolutely pure, and for that very reason unpalat-
able to those accustomed to the doctored brands
of civilisation. We found them almost undrink-
able for the simple reason that they are produced
by primeval methods ; and yet there must be
millions of money going begging in this particular
branch of industry, for the simple reason that
only the unsophisticated peasant exploits it. The
sour, but sound, white wine of Kragujevatz is
now sold on the spot at eightpence a quart (retail)
in old hock-bottles imported from Germany, and
at a handsome profit. Only rich Servians drink
the Hungarian Tisch-Wein, for it costs a franc
a pint, and yet it is infinitely inferior to the
product of their own vineyards, but, being
adulterated, is pleasanter to the palate. There
is no doubt that, with care and modern methods,
Kragujevatz could be made an important wine-
producing district. Even now a considerable
amount of Servian wine finds its way to France
for purposes of adulteration, and many a
chdteau brand, sold at exorbitant prices in
Parisian restaurants, is partly composed of grapes
grown east of the Adriatic. But I fancy more
wine goes into Bordeaux than is ever sent out.
California alone exports thousands of gallons
yearly, and I once dined with a French skipper
on the point of sailing from San Francisco with
his vessel laden down with a cargo which had
182 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
it not been exported for more aristocratic purposes
would have been labelled " Zinfandel." " How
can you blame our wine-growers ? " said my
friend, " when my entire country, transformed
into one huge vineyard, could not possibly supply
the demands of the world for red and white
Bordeaux and Burgundy ? " Water in Servia is
never safe and frequently very nasty, so local
mineral waters are sold even in " Mehanas," as
the smaller country inns are called. They are
usually dull, vapid beverages, not unlike Vichy
water which has been left open for a week or so,
but it is better to suffer momentary inconvenience
than risk an attack of typhoid fever. And should
the reader ever visit this country he will do well
to stick to the natural spring of " Lomnitchka "
which can be bought everywhere and which is
perhaps less nasty than any other local spring
which is not saying much ! On the other hand,
you can generally get good home-brewed ale
that of Yagodina being the one most favoured
by the military, generally good judges in this
respect. Schweppe's soda-water, Apollinaris, and
almost any mineral waters may be procured
in Belgrade, but rarely elsewhere throughout
Servia.
As regards languages, the traveller only ac-
quainted with English or French meets with
endless difficulties and annoyances in the
provinces. A knowledge of Eussian smoothes
the way, but German was spoken almost every-
where, even in the tiniest villages, where Russian,
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 183
although it resembles the Servian tongue, was
often useless and occasionally misunderstood.
The second town we visited was Nisch in the
fertile valley of Morava. Nisch may be called
the Chicago of Servia, for here are the principal
pork-curing establishments of the country, and
before the place was reached we passed hundreds
of cattle-trucks packed with squealing swine
travelling to their doom, or returning from it
in the shape of pork packed in specially con-
structed ice waggons. This animal should figure
in the national arms of Servia, for he has been
the backbone of the country for generations, and
is exported everywhere, even to the United
Kingdom, where I have no doubt his hams are
occasionally sold as prime " Yorkshire." The
Servian pig is a scraggy, wolfish-looking beast
of unsavoury appearance, very inferior in every
way to our carefully tended and ponderous English
porkers. The meat, too, is badly cured, salt
and stringy, but there was little else to be got in
the way of food at the country inns but black
bread rendered more or less palatable by our
private store of jam and sardines. " Kaimak,"
a kind of clotted cream, is sometimes to be had,
and is said to be delicious when properly made,
but it was generally served on plates of such
doubtful cleanliness that I never had the courage
to try it. In the river districts we fared really
well, for fish was always plentiful and good, and
with the addition of "Paprika " (a kind of native
pepper largely consumed throughout the Balkans)
184 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
made a substantial and appetising meal. Sturgeon
and trout were the best for culinary purposes. I
am now speaking only of the fare at " Mehanas,"
for in the provincial towns mutton and veal were
always procurable, although the meat was
invariably tough, greasy, and underdone. The
soup was always atrocious, until we were lucky
enough to find a solitary case of "Bovril" and
add it to our slender stock of portable provisions.
Here, as in Russia, a dram commences every meal,
and in Servia " Slivovitch," or plum-brandy, is
generally substituted for vodka. Every Servian
housewife can make "Slivovitch" as easily as
her English prototype can produce currant or
elderberry wine. "Komitsa" is another home-
made liqueur, made of grape-skins, and is about
as nasty a compound as I have ever tasted. Both
are drunk out of tiny, long-necked bottles, which
hold about an ordinary liqueur glass full, and which
I never saw anywhere but in Servia. Wherever
we went in the Balkans the coffee was delicious
but only served in thimblefuls a la Turque.
No one seemed to be able to produce it as French
caf6 noir or au lait.
I have already said that unless the visitor
is prepared to " rough it," Servia is a good place
to avoid, and I speak as one who has had his
full share of tough travel. Belgrade of course
was luxury itself, but on leaving this every hotel
and "Mehana" seemed to be worse than its
predecessor. It reminded me of a bather, who tries
tepid water before venturing into cold, and following
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 185
this simile, Kragujevatz represented the former,
and Pirot (the last town we stayed at before
leaving Servia) an ice-flecked Serpentine. Nisch
was bad enough, for the Hotel d' Orient was not
only unspeakably filthy but a den of thieves, where
we were subjected to every annoyance and extor-
tion short of being stripped and thrown bodily
into the street. The so-called restaurant was
dusty and comfortless, meals were served on filth-
encrusted plates, while my bedroom contained a
truckle bed with sheets which had evidently been
previously occupied by guests of doubtful cleanli-
ness. I have fared better in many a Siberian
posthouse than in the Hotel d' Orient at Nisch.
There is a large garrison here, the officers of
which took their meals at our hotel, but they
were a rude and rowdy lot, very different to our
hospitable friends at Kragujevatz. As usual,
every man's tunic was plastered with decorations,
and one beardless boy displayed no less than three
medals with clasps, which he must have gained
at a rather early age seeing that over nineteen
years had elapsed since the last Servian war !
Be this as it may, I have seldom come across
such boors as these, and a notably uncouth
Siberian regiment of Cossacks, with which I once
stayed on the Chinese frontier, could have taught
them a lesson in manners. More than once I
had to restrain Mackenzie from retaliating when
derogatory remarks were made, in a loud tone,
about England. However, the laugh was on our
side when one evening the commanding officer
186 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
arrived, resplendent in full uniform, to partake
of dinner with his wife. The Colonel's majestic
entry was greeted with a respectful and general
salute (by all but ourselves), but was somewhat
marred when a leg of lamb was served and he
and his worthy spouse proceeded to carve por-
tions from the joint, and transfer them to their
mouths without the customary intervention of a
plate. "The Colonel seems hungry!" I quietly
remarked to my neighbour, a plethoric major,
and the withering glance which met the observa-
tion amply atoned for previous insults !
No one was more amused at this than a
jolly old "pope," or priest, who sat opposite, and
who, being a stranger in the town, had witnessed
the behaviour of his military compatriots with
ill-concealed disgust. We travelled on for a short
distance the next day with this worthy prelate,
and found him an entertaining companion and
a pleasant contrast to most priests of the Greek
Church whom I have had the misfortune to meet
in Siberia where the village pastor is often
a drunkard, and generally as rapacious as the
local Shylock. Such men are unknown in
European Eussia, where the clergy of the Ortho-
dox faith are justly renowned for their intelligence
and refinement. Father Vladimir, our Servian
friend, was of humble origin, but had made the
most of his time and opportunities during a
youth passed in Moscow where he had graduated
for the Church. An excellent raconteur, the
Father would have made a name in any European
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 187
capital as an orator, but as he graphically
remarked, "Pigs make a poor audience, and my
parishioners are little better, intellectually speaking,
and not half as useful, as the swine they breed ! "
All creeds are tolerated in Servia, and I found
this Servian cleric far more tolerant than his
Eussian brethren. But nearly every one here is
of the Orthodox Greek Church, Mahometans
coming next in very limited numbers, and
finally Roman Catholics and Jews, who number
less than twenty thousand, all told, in a population
of about two and a half millions. The Father
seemed to lead a comfortable existence, being
possessed of a prosperous farm and vineyard which
eked out the slender income he derived from the
Church. But, like every one else, he bewailed the
absence of foreign capital with so many millions
of acres running to waste. At present Servia
produces about one hundredth part of the cereals
which could be obtained with a moderate outlay.
An English syndicate with, say, 100,000 acres of
land around Nisch would realise colossal profits
in a very short space of time, for splendid roads
render communication easy with all the principal
towns. This district, for instance, could supply
the country east and west of it with milk,
butter, and cheese by rail at infinitesimal prices
and still realise enormous profits. Milk and
butter are now only purchased by Servians, who
get their cheese abroad, for the local product is
sour and flavourless for the simple reason that it
is badly made. Modern methods would soon put
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cheeses on the market cheaper and infinitely
better than those now obtained from abroad.
" The Germans know all this," added the priest ;
" and you may be sure will lose no time before
they get to work and overrun the country. But
we in Servia would infinitely prefer to welcome
Englishmen and their money for obvious reasons!
And agriculture is not the only bait offered here
to capitalists, for the mineral wealth of Servia
though yet undeveloped has been proved by
prospectors of recent years to be very considerable.
Gold, silver, and iron are known to have been
extensively worked by the Romans, and in later
times gold-dust has been gathered for centuries
by peasants in the valley of the Timok. Recent
operations have proved that lead, copper, sulphur,
and arsenic exist, and coal, although of rather
poor quality, is found in many places. All
minerals are the property of the State, which
would gladly permit them to be worked for a
very small royalty.
Like most popes, our friend was married, and
spoke affectionately of his " little wife " at home
who, by the way, came to meet her husband on
arrival at his village, and turned out to be a person
of colossal proportions, with the face of a pugilist.
The lady regarded us with some mistrust, and
did not endorse the cordial invitation extended
to us by her lord and master. By the advice
of the latter I afterwards attended service at Nisch
Cathedral, where the music was said to be very
fine, but I found it execrable. No organ is used
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 189
in the Greek Church, and in Eussia the marvel-
lously trained bass voices atone for it. I once
entered St. Isaac's Cathedral, in Petersburg, during
a festival and can never forget the weird, almost
unearthly beauty of the chants and responses.
Nisch is one of the oldest cities in Servia, and
has a population of about twenty-five thousand,
mostly (to paraphrase Carlyle) thieves or that, at
any rate, was our experience. Although this town
lies on the direct route from Paris to Constanti-
nople, it remains much the same as it was three
centuries ago. Mosques, minarets, and crazy
wooden dwellings, muddy unpaved streets, Servian
men in homespun and sheepskins, their women
in brightly-coloured garments of white or blue
cloth worked with embroidery of Eussian design,
here and there the fez and yashmak, for a few
Mahometans still reside here. Dust everywhere
except on rainy days and dust so fine that
it worms its way into a watch-glass, and renders
your eyes sore and hair gritty for days. This
cannot, therefore, be called either an attractive
or interesting place. In summer-time it may be
different, for then there is no lack of greenery,
and the Eoyal Palace, with its spacious gardens,
was once the favourite residence of Queen Draga,
who came here every summer to escape the
hot weather in Belgrade. For Nisch stands on
a vast plain where there is always a breeze,
pleasant enough as a July zephyr, but distinctly
otherwise when it comes in the shape of a
wintry blizzard, and sleet. Nevertheless, not-
190 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
withstanding the dirt, dust, and general dis-
comfort, Nisch was more attractive in my eyes
than the commonplace towns of Northern Servia.
Market-days here were especially interesting,
chiefly by reason of the mixed nationalities who
attend them : Bulgarians, Albanians, Greeks,
Tziganes, and even Montenegrins, the only ones
we saw after leaving that country, for Prince
Nicholas's subjects seldom wander far from their
beloved mountains. Nisch was also remarkable
for the fact that I saw more drunkenness here
in one day than throughout the entire journey
out from London and back again. At night-time
most of it was centred in a third-rate dancing
saloon immediately opposite the hotel, where the
fun became fast and furious towards the small
hours, and sleep was rendered impossible by the
jangle of a piano-organ, and stamping of feet
across the way. The Servian does not display
the usual signs of intoxication, such as singing or
shouting, but gives vent to low wails, like a dog
baying at the moon, and the effect, at night-time,
is most weird and uncanny.
I had almost forgotten one object of interest,
the Tower of Skulls, for which this place is
famous, but this is now a mere name for a
column of bricks and clay about twelve feet high
where niches once occupied by the heads are the
only traces left of this Turkish trophy, gruesome
enough when seen by Lamartine, early in the last
century. The sight was then a sickening one,
for many of the skulls were furnished with hair
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 191
and hundreds of grinning rows of teeth added to
the horror of the spectacle. The story connected
with the place is a romantic one, and goes to
prove that Servian warriors of olden days were
anything but the poltroons they are said to have
become in modern warfare. One Stefan Sindielitch,
commander of a brave little band, after stoutly
defending an outpost near Nisch was defeated
by overwhelming odds, and sooner than surrender
exploded the powder magazine, killing himself,
his gallant followers, and an even greater number
of the enemy. The Pasha, infuriated at the loss
of his men, resolved to punish the Christian
population by collecting the heads of their
vanquished ones, and erecting this ghastly
monument now barely visible for the wreaths
which have been placed on it. A few years ago
a pretty chapel was erected over this spot by
order of the late King Alexander, and the collection
of grinning skulls which once formed the tower
have now been burned.
From Nisch we travelled in country carts
through some of the most fertile country in the
world to Prokuplie, a quaint old town, which
might have flown bodily over from England and
settled down in this dark corner of Europe. It
is evening as we rattle over the cobbled market-
place to the inn, outside which villagers sit
smoking and drinking red wine after the day's
work. Church bells are chiming softly, and,
across the square, lights twinkle from curtained
casements into the quiet dusk. From a side-
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street come the clatter of closing shutters, the
creak of a crawling waggon, and the distant
laughter of children at play. Only a ruined
minaret near the inn and the jargon of strange
tongues remind me that this is not some sleepy
old market town in distant Kent or Sussex !
We noticed, a few miles from here, a village re-
markable for the unusual neatness of its dwellings
and the fertile, well-farmed lands surrounding
them. This I ascertained was Alexandrof, a
settlement composed solely of Hungarian emi-
grants from the " Banat." Germans are there-
fore not the only foreigners who are "making
hay while the sun shines" in this land of endless
resources.
There is much sameness about Servian travel,
so it will be unnecessary to detail the events,
commonplace for the most part, which occurred
for three or four days after leaving Prokuplie.
Suffice it to say that we drove through a picturesque,
well-populated country, but that nearing the
Turkish frontier smiling villages, trim gardens,
and cultivated lands disappeared, and we reached
a grey and sterile region with human habitations
few and far between. The people here seemed
less friendly. We had been warned not to travel
by night near the frontier ; but this is sometimes
difficult when villages are twenty or thirty miles
apart. Anyway, we kept revolvers handy, though
I have little faith in that gimcrack weapon when
used against more than a couple of sturdy and
resolute assailants. A double - barrelled pistol,
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 193
even a poker or stout blackthorn are infinitely
preferable.
In this district is a place called Eopitza, where
we rested for a few hours before proceeding to
the frontier town, twenty miles distant. The
" Mehana," which constitutes Eopitza, (there
is no other habitation for a radius of fifteen
miles) contained as tough a crowd of ruffians as it
has ever been my lot to encounter, and these
were a startling contrast to the mild and meek-
eyed peasantry we had hitherto met with.
Kopitza has an evil reputation, for it is the
favourite meeting-place of thieves, smugglers,
and shady characters from all parts of the Balkans.
Servians, Albanians, Bulgarians, and even Greeks
were collected in the squalid little inn, also an
elderly Turk in a fez and seedy frock-coat, who
spoke a few words of French and urged me to
pass the night there. Failing this, the old
villain quietly disappeared, and so effectively plied
our driver with " Slivovitch " that he could not sit
up on the box until sunset. It was therefore dark
before we could set out, along a narrow road, hewn
for the first few miles through dense pine forest.
But our game little team dashed along with a
merry clash of bells, and must have covered about
a mile, when there came a violent lurch, followed
by a crash, and I found myself in the dusty road,
within an inch or so of unpleasantly active iron
heels. The driver had been hurled by the shock
clean over his horses' heads, and lay motionless,
but calling loudly for plum-brandy! Fortunately
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my companion, like myself, was uninjured, and
we set to work to repair the damage and assist
the plunging and terrified ponies to regain their
legs. A pine-tree which had fallen across the
track was the cause of the disaster, but the carriage
was luckily intact and only a trace was broken,
which I hastened to repair with the aid of rope
and a jack-knife while Mackenzie held the lantern.
Then a curious thing happened. " Look behind
you ! " suddenly cried my friend, and I turned
hastily to discover perhaps twenty silent, shadowy
forms, which had apparently sprung out of the earth
around us. There was no "Your money or your
life," business about this strange band, but its
methods were quite as effectual. "You will give
us two hundred dinar as,* and we will help you
shift that tree," said the spokesman, in Servian;
and I instantly recognised the voice as one I had
heard that afternoon in the " Mehana " at Ropitza.
Resistance was, of course, useless, for a match
was kindled by the speaker ostensibly to light
a cigarette, but probably to reveal the gleam of
firearms in every man's belt. They numbered
more than twenty, we only three, and one of the
latter half-stupefied by drink and terror. There
was nothing for it, therefore, but to pay up and
look pleasant ; and, having removed the barrier
(obviously placed there by themselves), the robbers
vanished as rapidly and silently as they had
appeared upon the scene. Happily the situation
had a certain grim humour to atone for our
* About 8.
A TOUGH CROWD AT ROPITZA.
Photo by Author.
face prge 194.
AN UNPLEASANT INCIDENT 195
monetary loss, and it is consolatory to reflect that
the slightest resistance on our part would certainly
have converted the farce into a drama. For
we afterwards ascertained that a dozen persons
had been waylaid and robbed (one of them being
murdered) on this road within the past year. But
I should like to meet that elderly Turk again,
within reach of an English police-station, or even
under similar conditions, with half a dozen trusty
and well-armed companions, in the depths of that
Servian pine-forest !
CHAPTER XV
THE LAND OP UNREST
A BRIEF pilgrimage (on wheels) of eight days safely
ended where it had commenced, at Nisch. The
" Orient-Express " runs through here, twice a
week, from Paris to Constantinople (and vice versa),
and this luxurious conveyance landed us in Sofia
within a few hours. It was on a bright sunlit
morning that we boarded the train. A week in
Servian wilds had left us grimy and travel-stained,
and we entered with some diffidence a palatial
dining-car, where about a score of well-dressed
men and women fresh from Paris were seated
at breakfast. And what a breakfast ! After tough
pork, greasy " Paprika," dirty plates, and the
usual repellent surroundings ! Only once have I
enjoyed a meal as much, and that was on board
an Amercian Revenue cutter, in the Arctic
Ocean, off the coast of Siberia. We had lived
for several months on seal-meat (eaten raw and
otherwise), and the savoury dish of canned
mutton then set before me still lingers in my
memory ! But in this world everything is com-
parative, and to-day the Omelette aux Truffes
196
THE LAND OF UNREST 197
prepared by an artist contrasted just as exquisitely
with Servian fare, although even the latter would
have been deemed delicious on that miserable
land journey from France to America ! " You
must suffer to enjoy," said the philosophical Mac,
as we discussed our coffee and a cigar in a
bright and cosy Fumoir, and no truer words
were ever spoken. For only those who have
undergone severe and continuous hardships can
truly realise the blessed meaning of the word
civilisation.
The line from Nisch to Sofia is wretchedly laid,
but passes through some of the finest scenery in
the world ; notably the desolate gorges of the
Nichava Valley. In places huge boulders almost
meet overhead, blotting out the sunshine, as we
skirt a foaming, roaring torrent at unpleasantly
close quarters. So massive are the towering
crags around that they dwarf the world-famed
" Orient-Express " into the semblance of a toy-
railway. The mountains begin to recede as we
reach a little frontier town, with its ruined castle
overlooking a picturesque collection of red-roofed,
garden-girt houses, and a few minutes later we
have entered Bulgarian territory. Slava-Bogh*
to Servia !
The examination of passports at Tzaribrod
occasions far less fuss and annoyance than we
encountered on entering the latter country. With
this exception one might be in Eussia, which
country everything around us recalls. Only one
:;: Serb = Goodbye.
198 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
thing is missing : the characteristic odour of
smoke and leather which assails the nostrils
from end to end of the Tsar's dominions. On
the other hand, the uniforms are absolutely iden-
tical, and some officers who joined us here might
have stepped into the train at Moscow or KiefE.
These were pleasant, sociable fellows, and I may
add that throughout Bulgaria I never met an
officer of any branch of the service who did not,
at any rate, behave like a gentleman. Leaving
Tzaribrod we enter another valley of rocks to
finally emerge upon a dreary and monotonous
plain, which is pointed out to me, with some
pride, by our military friends as Slivnitsa a
name strictly tabooed in the country we have
just left, for here, as the reader is already aware,
the Servians were utterly routed in 1885. "We
could have driven them back much sooner," says
my informant quietly, and with the air of one
stating a simple fact, "but we allowed them to
advance almost to within sight of Sofia in order
to render their defeat more crushing and com-
plete ! "
After the deprecatory remarks of the garrison
at Kragujevatz, it was pleasant to note the ad-
miration of these men for the British Army, nor
was I surprised to find that the Eussian reverses
in the Far Bast have considerably diminished the
respect once inspired by the army of the Great
White Tsar in this portion of the Balkans. Thus
a remark which I made upon the similarity of the
Russian and Bulgarian uniforms met with any-
To face page 198.
THE NISCHAVA VALLEY. Photo by Aratigelovitch, Nisch.
THE LAND OF UNREST 199
thing but approval. " They may resemble each
other," said a grey-haired colonel, who, while
consuming innumerable cigarettes, had hitherto
remained silent ; ' ' but I can assure you that our
methods are entirely different ! "
That inevitable topic in the Near East, Mace-
donia, was of course touched upon, and I was
eagerly questioned upon the probable attitude of
England in the event of a crisis. Like all military
men I afterwards met in Sofia (and travelling
through the country to the Shipka Pass), our
fellow-travellers seemed convinced that the Mace-
donian question must eventually be settled by
force of arms, and that, in that case, Bulgaria was
the country to do it. The opinion of the Great
Powers on the question did not seem to occur to
this nation of fire-eaters, who nevertheless would
probably render a good account of themselves in
the event of hostilities with Turkey. At first I
was inclined to smile inwardly at the confident
tone in which our companions spoke of a possible
war with the Turks. But when I had become
acquainted with the practical methods of the
Bulgarian Army, its magnificent artillery and no
less efficient cavalry and line, I smiled no longer.
For Bulgaria has already become an important
factor in Eastern events which may one day
have to be seriously reckoned with. I also learnt
that a projected alliance with that powerful neigh-
bour, Kumania, had lately engrossed the atten-
tion of Sofia politicians, and would willingly have
heard more of this ; but unfortunately at this
200 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
point the journey ended and the "Orient-Express "
clattered into the handsome G-are at Sofia, having
accomplished the journey from Paris in under
forty-eight hours.
The capital of Bulgaria occupies the same site
as the squalid poverty-stricken town once governed
by the Porte. No mushroom city in Western
America ever sprang so quickly into a prosperous
being from the ashes of filth and a corrupt ad-
ministration. Twenty years ago the mean-looking
buildings and foul, dark streets of Sofia rendered
the place a nest of filth and disease, and its rapid
conversion into a modern city of fine buildings,
broad, well-paved streets, and pleasant parks and
gardens, is one of which Bulgarians may well feel
proud. Since the opening of the railway Sofia has
progressed by leaps and bounds. The new Palace
and " Sobranie," or House of Parliament, would
grace any European capital, and so would the
hotels, theatres, restaurants, street cars, and
electric light. Everything here is more up-to-date
than in Belgrade ; French and German are spoken
in shops and hotels, and you may walk on smooth
asphalt instead of painful cobbles. Living is
absurdly cheap a leg of mutton costs tenpence,
meat is only threepence a pound, and twelve
delicious apples can be bought for one penny, and
other fruit in season as cheaply. Sofia has been
called a "little Brussels," and it certainly resembles
the latter, although on a bright day its busy streets,
alive with Eastern colour, grey, time-worn mosques,
and the snowy peak of Mount Vitosch, backed by
'o face page 200.
THE GRAND BOULEVAKD,
SOFIA.
Photo by Author.
THE LAND OF UNREST 201
a sky of sapphire, render it infinitely more novel
and picturesque. Also there is a prosperous,
business-like air about the people, which forms a
striking contrast to the dawdling, ca/e-haunting
citizens of Belgrade. Not that these establish-
ments do not almost outnumber those in King
Peter's capital, and from about four o'clock in the
afternoon until seven they are generally so crowded
that it is almost impossible to find a seat. A caf6
in Paris is the usual resting-place after business
hours not so here, where only few customers come
for relaxation in the shape of a glance at the
papers or game of dominoes. The majority are
here for a different purpose, for almost every im-
portant political conspiracy, from the assassination
of Stambuloff to the abduction of Prince Alexander,
has been hatched in these establishments. Per-
sonally I would sooner reside in Sofia than in any
other Balkan city (with the exception of Bukarest),
were it not for its normal state of political unrest,
which, although interesting enough to the casual
traveller, would after a time become intolerable
to any permanent resident afflicted with nerves.
For the close connection between politics and
bloodshed is anything but agreeable to the peaceful
stranger from Western Europe. Thus Stambuloff,*
* " On the evening of July 15, 1895, as Stambuloff was
driving home from the Union Club with an old friend, three
men leapt into the street, with yataghans and a revolver in
their hands. Before the Premier's old servant had had time
to fire, the assassins had cut his master down and were hacking
his prostrate body with their knives as it lay on the roadway.
202 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
after dining quietly at his club, was hacked to
pieces just outside his own house in a fashionable
thoroughfare, and during our stay here a member
of the Macedonian Committee was shot dead at
midday in the public gardens, where the incident
created less excitement than a cab accident in
Piccadilly. Indeed the place was crowded with
nurses and children, but they continued to prome-
nade and play about as though nothing had
happened. These political "executions" are of
weekly occurrence in Sofia, though you may walk
through the darkest and loneliest streets in the
small hours without fear of molestation. A famous
Macedonian leader told me that this city contains
more police for its size than any capital in the
world. I met him by appointment in a brightly-
lit cafe, which is eyed askance by the authorities
as a favourite resort of socialists. Here my friend
pointed out at least a dozen plain-clothes detec-
tives, who had come with no apparent object,
for political intolerance is now, in Bulgaria, a
thing of the past. I frequently heard Prince
Ferdinand openly discussed in terms which sur-
prised me ; but secret societies flourish here, as
was plainly shown by the following incident which
At the first shot the three murderers fled, and the police who
were present made no attempt to arrest them. Their unfortu-
nate victim was taken home to die. Death came as a relief,
for both his arms had been cut to pieces, one eye had been
half gouged out and his forehead bore the marks of fifteen
wounds. Three days later the ablest of Bulgaria's sons
breathed his last." ("The Story of the Nations," by W.
Miller.)
THE LAND OF UNREST 203
occurred one night in the cafe in question. Several
friends of my host had joined our table, and one of
these a florid, middle-aged person, full of jokes
and laughter left us early in the evening, to keep
an appointment. " He will not laugh long," said
my neighbour, in a low tone, alluding to the
individual who had departed. Knowing my com-
pany I discreetly changed the conversation, but
shortly afterwards I heard of the death of our
merry friend, who was found at dawn a few days
later in a street off the principal boulevard with a
bullet in his brain ! I recollect this poor fellow
had once been in England, where he had picked up
a few slang phrases, one of which he constantly
made use of on the evening in question: "Now
we sha'n't be long ! " In his case the words were
indeed prophetic ! *
Prince Ferdinand is certainly not popular, which
* "In private life, the average Bulgarian is an excellent
fellow honest, hard-working, and hospitable. It is in the
political arena that he still displays, beneath the thin veneer of
twenty years' civilisation, the effect of five centuries of Turkish
rule. To "remove" a political opponent is accordingly still
regarded as an ordinary and recognised party weapon, and the
license of language in the party press exceeds all decent
bounds. The extent to which party feeling is carried may
be proved by the fact that the hall-porter of my hotel solemnly
rebuked me for desiring to see M. Petkoff, the editor of the
Svoboda, the leading Opposition paper, which, as he said, "it
is better not to read." And when I suggested that that
gentleman should visit me, I was told by one of his staff that
it was advisable for him not to go to the hotel. It will be
seen from this that the Bulgarians take their politics very
seriously." (From W. Miller's "Travels in the Near East.")
204 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
is partly owing to the fact that he is away for
more than two-thirds of the year, and that even
when in Bulgaria he chiefly resides in one of his
country palaces some say from dread of assassi-
nation, which, in view of the fate of most Balkan
sovereigns, seems probable. That the Prince's
numerous trips to London, Paris, or Monte Carlo
are not favourably viewed by his people is scarcely
to be wondered at, for the royal traveller has
expensive tastes (his marriage alone cost 130,000),
and while on these erratic journeys His Highness 's
expenses run to about 100 a day. The absurd
ostentation of the Bulgarian Court, where more
formalities exist than even in Vienna or Peters-
burg, also causes much annoyance amongst all
classes, but the Prince played a clever card when
he recently visited England ostensibly to discuss
the annexation of Macedonia. Radicals aver that
the journey was one of pleasure, but at any rate
the bait took, and the people acclaimed a future
King on the return of their ruler. The latter is no
longer the ardent Russophile he was ; but this
change of front is not, as some may suppose,
connected with the Japanese victories in the Far
East, but because his son, little Prince Boris, did
not receive the usual decoration upon being made
honorary colonel of the Russian "Regiment of
Minsk." Scandal says that the Sofia photo-
graphers have lost a fortune by this omission, for
Prince Ferdinand is as lavish a patron of the
camera as his august cousin in Berlin.
There is no doubt that Prince Ferdinand's rule
THE LAND OP UNREST 205
in Bulgaria hangs on a very slender thread, and his
Eoyal Highness has been compelled to work the
" Macedonian boom " for all it is worth to retain
even the lukewarm loyalty of his subjects. This
was not always so, for Stambuloff discountenanced
the foolish extravagance which now causes so
much friction between this ruler and his people,
not only because it rendered the former the
laughing-stock of Europe, but because the latter
invariably have to pay the piper. Little Prince
Boris (who is said to be an amiable, attractive
boy) is never allowed to take a short drive without
a troop of cavalry in attendance, and is being
taught to sacrifice everything in life to the empty
exigences of the " etiquette" so dear to his
pretentious sire. When in Bulgaria I never heard
a good word said of Prince Ferdinand, although
his deposed predecessor was everywhere mentioned
with affectionate regret.
The reigning Prince is not a clever man, which
is curious seeing that his mother is (or was) one of
the brightest women in Europe, but her son is
endowed with a certain amount of cunning which,
under the circumstances, may further his projects
even better than true statesmanship. Stambuloff,
one of the greatest men Bulgaria has ever produced,
almost despised him, although the present Premier
affects undying loyalty and humours his every
whim. Columns of praise have been lavished upon
His Highness of late in the press of Western
Europe, but as a German correspondent here
remarked: " They do not know him as I do!"
206 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Since I was in Sofia the question of converting
Bulgaria into a kingdom has been brought before
the Powers, and more or less favourably received.
Most Bulgarians I met scout the idea, but
Ferdinand does not seem to consider the incli-
nations of his people on this important subject,
although the latter may one day prove a nasty
stumbling-block to his overwhelming conceit and
ambition. Unfortunately the Prince lacks one
important quality with which Nature has so
lavishly endowed the King of England tact ; and
this deficiency is a continual cause of trouble
and dissension amongst the courtiers (or rather
flatterers) by whom the ruler of Bulgaria is sur-
rounded. Nor does a fickle, irritable disposition
increase his popularity, for most people strongly
object to being warmly welcomed at Court one day
and snubbed, for no apparent reason, on the next.
The correspondent of a great London daily has
cause to remember a certain breakfast at the
Prince's hunting lodge at Ehodope a few months
ago when, under the genial influence of champagne
and good fellowship, one of his ministers toasted
the royal host as " King of Macedonia," much to
the latter 's delight and self-gratification. But the
Englishman was unlucky enough to report this
fact (not having received instructions to the
contrary), and the entree to the Palace is now
barred to one who was once received not only as
a guest, but a privileged friend. Some subjects
are better passed over, but I may remark that,
although a stickler for etiquette, Prince Ferdinand
BULGARIAN PEASANTS.
Photo by Author.
face page 206.
THE LAND OF UNREST 207
can at times become so Bohemian in his mode of
life that he is apt to forget that walls have ears,
and that absolute secrecy is impossible in a capital
of this size.
The Prince was no doubt handicapped in having
to succeed a man of such charming personality
as the first Prince of Bulgaria. His victory over
the Servians at Slivnitza established him as a
hero, and as such he will always be remembered.
Prince Alexander was no diplomat, but his per-
sonal bravery has never been questioned, and
women adored him, for he was as much at home
in the " Boudoir " as on the battlefield. Un-
fortunately, in those days the will of Eussia was
supreme and incontrovertible. The downfall of
Alexander was decreed by the Tsar, and, as a
matter of course, came to pass. But his memory
will live for ever in the hearts of his adopted
people.
But whoever their ruler may be, these same
people, as Americans say, are " all right," although
they have realised, since the Treaty of Berlin, that
Russia is an infinitely harder taskmaster than the
indolent, easy-going Turk. And it says much for
the national grit of Bulgaria that she has generally
held her own against the intrigues and threats of
the Powers that be at Petersburg.
When we were here the Macedonian business
was the burning question of the hour, and there
seemed to be as much dissension between the
so-called " leaders " as that which existed amongst
the heads of the "Paris Commune" in 1871.
208
Boris Sarafoff is no longer taken seriously, even
by his own countrymen, and General Tzontchefi
is generally regarded as his welcome successor,
although many others lay claim to this distinction.
It is, however, an open secret that Tzontcheff has
the firm support of Royalty, and the General's views
regarding the state of affairs may therefore be taken
as expressing those of the Government. Indeed,
Tzontcheff was removed by special order from his
command at Widin to Sofia in order to devote
closer attention to Macedonian matters. It was
only with the greatest difficulty that I obtained
an audience, for the General was up to his eyes
in work and has been so persistently mis-stated
by journalists that he was naturally chary of
receiving me. We met in a low, whitewashed
apartment, which is used as a committee-room and
the publishing office of the Reforme, a journal
almost exclusively devoted to Macedonian affairs.
Tzontcheff is a dapper, dark-bearded man of
middle age, with a piercing eye and quick,
decisive manner, indicative of much resource and
mental energy. M. Gologanoff, editor of the
Reforme, and Colonel Yankoff (for whose capture
alive or dead the Ottoman Government had
recently offered 2,000) were also present. The
inevitable cigarettes and coffee having been dis-
cussed, I managed to turn the conversation into
the required channel, by alluding to news which
had only been received that morning of a serious
affray between armed Servians and Turkish troops
near the border. The General speaks French
THE LAND OF UNREST 209
imperfectly, and the following statement was
therefore taken down, word for word, in my
presence by M. Gologanoff :
11 The so-called reforms in Macedonia have
entirely failed to improve the condition of affairs.
Hilmy Pasha is absolute ruler of the country. The
civil agents of Eussia and Austria have practically
no authority, and (perhaps for political reasons)
exercise no control. Turkish officials collect taxes,
administer their own ideas of justice, and fill the
prisons with innocent victims just as they did
before the new regime, and I can safely assert that
anarchy and bloodshed have increased since its
establishment. Moreover, the Turkish Govern-
ment loses no opportunity of fostering religious and
racial feuds which would otherwise not exist. It
does not hinder, but encourages, hostile bands of
Greeks and Servians to cross their frontiers and
lay waste Bulgarian villages, its policy being to
decimate the Bulgarian population for its own
ends. I know of towns in Macedonia where Greek
Committees exist (with the connivance of Turkish
officials) for the sole purpose of murdering promi-
nent Bulgarians. After the Salonika and Monastir
murders not one in twenty of the assassins was
captured for obvious reasons. For the object of
the Ottoman Government is twofold : to enfeeble
the Christian element by racial wars, and to prove
to the outer world that Macedonians are utterly
incapable of self-government and unworthy of
European sympathy.
"As for the gendarmerie, what can it do ? Take
14
210 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
the Province of Seres (under the French), which
has eight districts with ten officers in all. In
each district are 100 to 130 towns and villages.
Thus you have, say, 1,000 centres of population
under the control of only eight men, six of whom
cannot speak the native language ! Drama (the
British section) has the smallest area of all, but
how can a handful of officers at these points know
what is going on in the interior of the country,
especially when their information is usually de-
rived from those who wish to maintain a state of
disorder the Turks themselves ? How can they
redress the grievances of natives, when complaints
(however urgent) must first be submitted to the
Chief of the District, thence be despatched to
Hilmy Pasha, and finally be sent to the Civil
Agent, by which time they are probably cast aside
and forgotten in favour of more recent affairs ?
And even when a delinquent is brought to justice
he is seldom, if ever, punished. Take the case of
the district of Gorna-Djoumaya, under the French.
Here villages were pillaged and burnt, men beaten
to death, and women outraged. All this was duly
reported and sworn to by French officers, and what
was the result ? Sali Pasha, the military com-
mander and chief instigator of the atrocities, was
tried, found guilty, and removed to the town of
Seres, where he now occupies a more lucrative
post than before !
" The situation is now more critical than ever
by reason of the extensive military preparations
being made by Turkey in Macedonia. Large
THE LAND OF UNREST 211
bodies of troops and quantities of war material
are arriving daily in the * Vilayet ' of Adrianople
from Asia Minor, and the Macedonian reserves
have been partially mobilised. The object is
probably to intimidate Bulgaria, and prevent her
further interference in Macedonia, but the result
may be to endanger the peace of the Balkans.
For the influx of Turkish soldiers means further
persecutions, which may drive the Macedonians
to open revolt ; and this can only end in wholesale
massacre as of the Armenians. In this case
Bulgaria would be compelled to act, and a confla-
gration would ensue which might set Europe ablaze.
"A remedy? It is simple enough: * effective
reforms under the control of all the European
Powers.' I do not mean a * Gendarmerie,' which
is an absolute farce ! The only satisfactory solu-
tion of the Macedonian question is one which
appeared in one of your London papers some weeks
ago, as having been suggested by a Liberal member
of your Parliament at a Macedonian Conference.
It was simply this : * The appointment of a Euro-
pean Governor for Macedonia and Adrianople, in-
dependent of the Sultan, and responsible to all the
Great Powers of Europe.' Such a scheme as this
would very soon prove its efficiency, and would
meet with universal acclamation throughout Bul-
garia and, I imagine, throughout the civilised
world!"
But personally I should imagine that this is
very doubtful, seeing that even in Sofia opinions
varied considerably as to the most practical solu-
212 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
tion of the difficulty. It was confusion worse con-
founded. General Tzontcheff's ulterior aim was
undoubtedly a Bulgarian autonomy of Macedonia,
and formal annexation to the Principality. Sand-
ansky, another leader, declared himself the only
legal representative of the " Macedonians." His
object was the establishment of an independent
State to be included into a Balkan Confederation.
And yet again I heard of a " Macedonian Com-
mittee" which, regardless of the fact that Macedonia
contains at least a dozen different nationalities,
wished to establish Bulgar as the universal language
of the State before attempting further measures.
The power of the once famous and influential Boris
Sarafoff seemed to have entirely waned. I used to
see him daily at the " Grand Cafe " drinking and
smoking till the small hours, surrounded by a little
coterie of "toadies," and glaring defiance at the
men who have supplanted him.
Here, too, one evening we met some of the
military friends with whom we had travelled from
Tzaribrod, and arranged to witness a review of
the troops which took place the day before our
departure. And my eyes were indeed opened by
that imposing spectacle of several thousand men
under arms, comprising a battalion of Guards,
several regiments of cavalry and infantry, and
two batteries of artillery. Here again, judging
from the uniforms, this formidable force might
have formed part of the Eussian Army, especially
the line regiments with their flat, white caps,
high boots, and pea-soup coloured overcoats which
THE LAND OF UNREST 213
throughout the Tsar's Empire are worn alike
by soldier and convict. But, as my friend the
Colonel had truly remarked, the resemblance be-
tween the Bulgarian and Russian armies is con-
fined to outward adornment, for not only are these
officers better educated and more efficient as re-
gards their military duties, but over 30% of their
men can read and write. A French officer who
was present that day told me that the Bulgarian
artillery was fully equal in every respect to that of
his own country. This gentleman had resided here
for some time in order to make a special study of
the army, and had found its organisation almost
perfect in every way, although the commissariat
and transport departments were not as satisfac-
tory as other branches of the service. I visited
some huge barracks newly erected near the railway
station at Sofia, where six thousand men could be
accommodated with ease, and found the dormitories,
sanitary arrangements, and training and recreation-
rooms quite as good as, if not better, than any
we have in England. On my return home I was
asked by an English General if Prince Ferdinand
could put one hundred thousand men into the
field at a month's notice, and he seemed incre-
dulous when I told him that in that space of time
Bulgaria could mobilise a well-equipped and effi-
cient force of half a million men. Nevertheless,
this is a fact. And let us not forget that even
twenty years ago the Bulgarians, after routing one
hundred thousand Servians like dust before a gale,
could have marched right on to Belgrade and
214 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
occupied that place if Austria and other Powers
had not intervened. And twenty years makes a
considerable difference to even a small nation
which, during that time, is straining every nerve
and expending every available copper to increase
the efficiency of her army. When I was at Sofia
France had just secured the whole of an " order "
for new and formidable batteries of quick-firing
guns, notwithstanding pertinacious bids from
Germany. For these alone the Creusot works
are to receive over a million sterling !
I found Bulgarians of all classes, if less hospitable,
more serious and better read than Servians. The
former are also more up-to-date as regards the
treatment of the Jews, who in Sofia, at any rate,
enjoy the same privileges as in that earthly para-
dise of the modern Israelite England. And when
even our own country is gradually being com-
pelled to bow before the Semitic golden calf, surely
little Bulgaria may be pardoned for following suit.
Personally I can never understand the common
prejudice against Jews, for I have invariably found
them (in all parts of the world) more charitable,
and generally cleverer and more entertaining than
Christians. Only in Poland do I object to this
much-maligned race, but many of their own creed
in England share my opinion. In Bulgaria the
Jews are mostly of Spanish origin, and come from
the same stock as those we met at Mostar and
Sarajevo.
The remainder of this population of about seventy
thousand is very mixed, and you hear German,
THE LAND OF UNREST 215
Kussian, Italian, and Greek spoken on all sides as
well as the native language. The Turks now
number under two thousand here, and only one
mosque now exists, the others being used for
secular purposes. This was not done to impress
Mahometans with a sense of their inferiority
after the emancipation, but merely because the
latter were not sufficiently numerous to require
more than one place of worship. For Mahometans
in Sofia are treated exactly like Bulgarian subjects,
and most of them aver that they are so con-
tented here that nothing in the world would induce
them to return to their own distressful country.
The " Hotel de Bulgarie " an excellent establish-
ment where we stayed overlooks the public
gardens, and when a military band was the
attraction I frequently saw Christian and Moslem
strolling about on the friendliest terms. The hotel
also adjoins the Palace, a fine building in the style
of the Tuileries, surrounded by beautiful gardens.
But as a Bulgarian journalist remarked, it always
looks as if it were "to let," and indeed the blinds
which are generally lowered for two-thirds of the
year, give one that impression. Under the guid-
ance of my friend I also visited the House of Par-
liament, which cost over 70,000, and which is
indeed a contrast to the ramshackle Skupshtina
at Belgrade.
The aforementioned journalist, Monsieur B
(I suppress the name for obvious reasons), had run
a newspaper here for several years and therefore
proved a reliable guide. Forty-eight hours sufficed
216 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
to exhaust the sights and pleasures of Belgrade,
but I could willingly have passed as many days
in Sofia, the place is so bright and attractive, or
at any rate seemed so in the brilliant weather
which lasted uninterruptedly during our stay.
You may walk about the streets here all day and
never feel weary, they are so full of life and colour,
although, as in Japan, picturesque native costumes
are gradually giving way to broadcloth and tweeds.
This quaint mixture of the latest European
fashions and Oriental costumes are the first things
which strike the stranger on arrival in Sofia. But
he soon discovers that this is a land of contradic-
tions. For instance, the man who drove us to our
hotel from the station was an essentially modern
Bulgar who, as far as dress was concerned, would
have walked unnoticed up Eegent Street, and who
was as loquacious and full of information as a
Maltese guide. Indeed he was up-to-date on every
subject, from the newest style of motor-car to
Mr. Chamberlain's fancy in orchids. And yet
his wiry little pair of ponies were adorned with
necklets of blue beads as amulets against the
" Evil Eye," any allusion to which was strongly
resented by their driver.
Sofia is formed by three separate districts : the
modern city, which has the Palace for a hub, and
where the Legations and better classes of all
nationalities reside ; the old Turkish quarter with
its unpaved, narrow streets and dark, wooden
dwellings, now rapidly disappearing to make way
for bricks and mortar ; and the outer portions of the
THE LAND OF UNREST 217
capital, composed of straggling roads, and houses
of various dimensions, chiefly occupied by the
middle classes. Here dwelt my friend B in a
pretty little villa, whither I accompanied him
after our wanderings. But my host and his
beautiful wife (pretty women are as numerous here
as they are rare in Servia) had to lay the cloth for
supper, their domestic having left the house at a
moment's notice. " The third in ten days,"
sighed poor Madame despairingly, for it would
seem that it is even more difficult to procure
servants here than in Belgrade, and even when
obtained the aggressive conduct of the Bulgarian
handmaiden renders her a doubtful blessing. For
instance, this young person had left in a huff be-
cause she had not been formally introduced by her
mistress to some callers during the day ! Ap-
parently the only way to keep a servant in Sofia
is to let her wages fall in arrears, but this plan
can scarcely be called a satisfactory one. Kecently,
however, an agency has been started to enlist the
services of German girls, much to the delight of
the ladies of Sofia, who now, for the first time,
see a way out of their domestic dilemmas.
Belgrade was preferable to Sofia in one respect
there was always plenty to do in the evening.
But in Sofia after dark there are no amusements
whatsoever. An occasional performance by a
Dramatic Society, a military band twice a week,
and two or three third-rate cafe chantants where
both artistes and refreshments were execrable,
formed the only recreations of the place. Every
218 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
one here is too deeply engrossed in politics to
waste valuable time on theatres, and the Bulgarian
is made of sterner stuff than his frivolous, pleasure-
loving neighbour. This is partly shown by the
large proportion of schools and educational
establishments throughout the country, which
even now number more than twice those of Servia.
Sofia has hitherto lacked a University, but a fine
building is now being erected for this purpose,
although Prince Ferdinand strongly disapproved
at first of this institution, which will no doubt
introduce the dangerous " student " element
which has already worked such havoc in Eussia.
I now speak of schools and "gymnasia" for the
middle and lower classes, for rich Bulgarians
generally send their children to Western Europe
to be educated. The educational movement is
greatly assisted by the founding of public libraries
which are now met with in most provincial towns,
and the press is making great strides throughout
the country. Sofia alone has nearly a score of
daily and weekly publications one or two of them
illustrated and the latter, though poor produc-
tions, are creditable enough when we consider the
age (or rather the youth) of this go-ahead little
country.
It is also satisfactory to note the important
reforms which have taken place of late years in
the general management of Bulgarian penal
establishments. As British delegate to the Paris
Penal Congress of 1895, I was able to realise what
dens of cruelty and disease these were under
THE LAND OF UNREST 210
Turkish rule, and even now the remoter districts
are provided with prisons where the sanitary
arrangements are infinitely worse than those of
the worst Siberian gaols. In the larger towns,
however, convicts are now well cared for and
enjoy a much more liberal diet than in England.
But the supply of labour is utterly inadequate
(as in most Eussian prisons), and men are de-
tained sometimes for many months before being
brought up for trial two defects for which there
can now be no excuse. Murder is still nominally
punished by death, but the sentence is rarely
carried out.
Having painted Sofia in colours so attractive
that it may allure my readers, I should mention
one drawback connected with this city, and that
is its deplorable drainage, which often causes
serious epidemics. Otherwise, at any time but
summer and early autumn, the climate is healthy
and exhilarating. But Rome was not built in a
day, and the sewage question is now occupying
the serious attention of the medical authorities,
so that in time one may be able to visit this
capital without being subjected to sickening odours
(even in the best hotels) and the consequent risk
of serious illness.
CHAPTER XVI
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS
THE time had arrived for our departure from Sofia.
I awoke at daybreak (for, as usual, the train left
at an unearthly hour in the morning) and gazed
from my warm and comfortable bedroom upon
a wintry scene a Christmas card designed by
Nature. The previous day had resembled Cal-
cutta in July ; but I noticed that the shady spot
in the public gardens where we had then discussed
cool drinks was now concealed by a carpet of
snow. My snug, white bed presented a tempting
contrast to the cold, cheerless streets, but I aroused
Mackenzie and we emerged from the portals of the
Hotel de Bulgarie, entered a fiacre (converted into
a sleigh since the previous evening) and set out
for the railway station, en route for Plevna and
the Shipka Pass.
As a matter of course, we had to await the
arrival of the train for nearly an hour, pacing
briskly up and down a draughty and fireless wait-
ing-room. There is absolutely no need for this
enforced period of discomfort, for the purchase
2-20
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 221
of a ticket and registration of baggage occupies
only a few minutes. But in Bulgaria custom has
decreed that the traveller shall be conveyed to the
railway station at least an hour before the sche-
duled time of departure, although no one seems
able to explain why he should undergo this
needless discomfort. "Everyone does it," was
the only reply I could get and with this I had
to be content, although raging inwardly at the
folly of local habits. On the morning in question
we reached the station at a quarter before 7 a.m.,
and our train steamed leisurely (and punctually)
into Sofia at something past eight. Another
half-hour would have afforded ample time for
breakfast (which was unobtainable at the hour
of our departure), and fortunately a restaurant-
car was available, or we should have had to fast
until the evening. Wherefore is it wise to be
provided with a private stock of provisions when
travelling in the Balkans ; and we found meat
lozenges the best and most portable means of
staving off the pangs of hunger. Another excellent
thing on this kind of journey is " Carnyl," a patent
food invented by Dr. Yorke Davies, for it is
strengthening, easily prepared, and never palls
upon the palate. I found it invaluable during
a dog-sled journey of several months in Arctic
Siberia, and even at home it makes an excellent
dish for breakfast or lunch.
Not so very long ago the journey from Sofia
to Plevna entailed some discomfort, for it had
to be made in a conveyance locally known as a
222 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
" Phaeton," a little box of torture on wheels, as
unlike the English vehicle of the same name as
can well be. The Bulgarian article is an open
carriage drawn by three or four horses abreast, and
it is generally unprovided with a hood, so that
the occupant is exposed to a scorching sunshine,
drenched, or frozen, as the case may be. Bul-
garians do not (like the Eussians) understand
the art of posting, and I have driven from end to
end of Siberia (before the days of the railway)
and experienced less annoyance than during our
comparatively short trips through the Balkans.
The cattle here, however, are better than even the
game and wiry little Siberian post-horses which
is high praise but the Bulgarian Jehu is very
inferior in every way to the Russian yemshtchik,
and makes a free use of his whip which would
horrify the latter.
Our experience of travel in a " Phaeton,"
however, was reserved for a later portion of the
voyage, and as far as Plevna we travelled by the
recently constructed railway ; a dreary line laid
through gloomy gorges and across monotonous
plains. The restaurant-car attached to the train
was dirty, and the food and service both primitive,
not being under the same management as the
well-appointed " Orient-Express," but the same
day landed us in Plevna, a sleepy little town,
which now shows few traces of Osman Pasha's
gallant resistance. There is no hotel here, but
the landlord of a wineshop gave us a rough
shakedown, and offered us relics of the siege in
face page 322.
A BULGARIAN PEASANT.
Photo by Author.
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 223
the shape of spurious bullets and fragments of
shells. I believe they may still be purchased
at Waterloo !
Plevna, which lies in a hollow surrounded by
low hills, appears to have no natural defences,
and how it held out so long must ever remain
a mystery. Nevertheless, the place would prob-
ably never have fallen when it did had it not
been for the assistance rendered by the Kumanian
allies a fact which, at the time, was scarcely
appreciated in England. Our host had fought
with the invaders in the famous battle of Sep-
tember 7, 1877, when a force of 135,000 Russians
was repulsed by an infinitely smaller garrison of
Turks with a loss of 18,000 men. The old
" Chevalier Garde " had served as orderly on the
Russian Head Quarters Staff and was therefore
able to furnish some interesting details anent the
capitulation and Osman Pasha, for whom he pro-
fessed unbounded admiration. " I can see him
now," he said, " that marvellous man, refusing
to yield up his sword to the Prince of Rumania
(whom he regarded as a rebel), and handing it
to our General as though he were granting a
favour !"
" General Stroukoff," added the old Guardsman,
was the first to enter the Pasha's presence, and
I accompanied him. We found Osman in a squalid
hovel with a mud floor, lit by a broken window
stuffed up with bits of rag. So poorly was the
place furnished that he had to sit on a wooden
bench resting his back against the grimy wall.
224 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
The cold was intense, for only a handful of damp
wood shavings spluttered in a rusty stove. Every
one was shivering save the hero of Plevna who,
however, was deadly pale, partly Jrom exhaustion
and partly from physical pain for his leg was
being bandaged, the foot resting on an empty
cartridge box. The dressing of his wound must
have caused the sufferer acute agony, but he coolly
smoked a cigarette, and watched the surgeons
at work as though another person had been under-
going the operation. Osman was shabbily attired
in undress uniform, and wore no decorations,
although no man in Europe had justly received
more. I -don't think the Pasha was much more
than forty years of age at that time, but he looked
twenty years older. When Stroukoff entered,
Osman rose from his bench with great difficulty
and put out his hand."
" Mon General, you are wounded; I pray you
be seated," said Stroukoff in French, declining
a proffered seat in the presence of so illustrious
a captive. "I am here," he added, "by order
of General Ganetsky, to congratulate your Excel-
lency on the brilliant defence of Plevna. But I
regret to inform you that the Grand Duke can
only accept an unconditional surrender."
For a few moments Osman was silent, and
appeared to be pondering deeply ; then
" I am entirely at the disposal of His Imperial
Highness," he said, in so low a whisper that the
words were scarcely audible.
"It is the will of God, your Excellency,"
225
rejoined Stroukoff, a veteran of many campaigns,
yet not unmoved by the pathetic appearance of
the speaker.
Half an hour later General Ganetsky arrived,
a brusque but amiable old soldier, who warmly
greeted Osman and unceremoniously seated him-
self beside him. For several minutes Ganetsky
could only speak of the splendid achievements
of the Turkish troops.
" Colossal ! " he kept repeating. " Nothing has
ever been seen like it." But his congratulations
seemed to weary the Pasha, who received them
coldly and in silence. Stroukoff, ever tactful,
endeavoured to shorten the interview, and drew
out his watch with a significant gesture.
" Excellency," he murmured, "it is past four
o'clock."
"Ah! true," replied Ganetsky; then turning
to the bowed and shrunken figure beside him,
he demanded the formal surrender of the city.
Without another word Osman turned towards
his Chief of Staff, and, wearily raising his
hand, pointed towards the door. Adil-Pasha
saluted and then slowly withdrew, followed by
Stroukoff and some Eumanian officers. The
final order for disarmament had been given, but it
was not carried out without considerable diffi-
culty, for at first Osman's troops, now reduced
to mere ghosts by disease and starvation, stub-
bornly refused to lay down their arms. That
evening General SkobeleS arrived to pay his
respects to the Pasha, who received him with more
15
226 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
cordiality than he had displayed towards any
other Russian emissary. Thus fell Plevna, after
a siege of four months, and with it were captured
no less than 40,000 men and 77 guns. " But we
should not have done so well without the Ruma-
nians," added the narrator. " They bore the
brunt of the decisive battle, and captured the
Gravitza Redoubt. Heaven only knows how
many they left there ! "
During our stay here rain fell in torrents and
a lowering glass and watery sky looked as though
the downpour might last for a week. Plevna is
not a cheerful place even in sunshine, and gloomy
weather made it unbearably dreary and mono-
tonous, especially as our only means of killing
time was by means of an object, ambitiously
described by its owner as a billiard-table, which
stood in the middle of the wineshop. Later on,
at Tirnova, we found another, so I presume this
is the article generally turned out by the Bul-
garian Burroughes and Watts, although billiards
is hardly the name for a game which is played
without cues or pockets, and which consists in
knocking down a row of wooden pins with an iron
top. Anyhow it served our purpose for awhile
and we passed the remainder of that dismal end-
less day drinking coffee, smoking innumerable
cigarettes and listening to our host's reminiscences
which were related in a monotonous undertone, to
which the moaning of the wind and ceaseless
patter of rain against roof and window-pane
formed an appropriate accompaniment.
,'
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 227
" If it goes on like this," said the landlord, when
we retired to rest (on a wooden bench), " the floods
will be out and you may be detained here for a
week ! "
But fortunately this gloomy prediction was
never fulfilled, for I awoke to find the sun blazing
into my eyes, while out in the open the drab,
sodden hills of yesterday now appeared green
and smiling under a cloudless sky. There was
time for a ramble round the outskirts of the
town, but as I have said, a few grass-grown
mounds once honeycombed with guns are now
the sole mementoes of the great struggle which
involved so much suffering and loss of life.
Here, as everywhere else in Bulgaria, the
peasantry looked prosperous and well-to-do; and
well they may in such a land of milk and honey.
It is a paradise of greenery and vegetation, which
is strange, seeing that with the exception of the
Danube, the Principality does not possess a single
river worthy of the name. In summer most of the
streams run dry, but autumn and early spring
bring an abundant downfall, which is perhaps
fortunate, for without rain the Province would
become another Sahara. The soil is everywhere
excellent, and if properly cultivated would yield
the richest crops. As it is, the people not only
supply their own wants, but furnish a considerable
export of produce in fruit and cereals. And yet
agriculture is conducted here as primitively as in
Servia, and the implements in use are those of ten
centuries ago.
228 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
From Plevna we travelled on to Tirnova (the
ancient capital of Bulgaria), a comparatively
short but tedious journey on account of the
delay at the junction of Gornea-Orehovitza, where
the traveller must leave the train proceeding to
Rustchuk, on the Danube, and take a branch line
which runs south to his destination. From here
we caught our first glimpse of the Stara-Planina,
or Balkan range, and the scenery gradually
increased in grandeur until we reached, towards
sunset, the ancient capital of the Bulgarian Tsars,
assuredly one of the most picturesque and interest-
ing places in Europe. I am fairly well acquainted
with three-quarters of this globe and can safely
say that I have never been so favourably im-
pressed, at first sight, with any city in the
world.
Tirnova is built on a cliff, some 500 feet high,
and from below the houses seem almost to over-
hang each other, so steep is the declivity upon
which they stand. Everything has an Oriental
aspect, and there is the usual lavish display of
colour in walls and fa9ades, toned down, how-
ever, by the storms of centuries, and harmonised
by weather-beaten woodwork and overhanging
eaves of Turkish design. Numerous arcades and
balconies line the principal street, and viewed from
the rocky summit the town might be built on an
island (for the broad and rushing river Yantra here
describes almost a circle), an island composed of
gardens and greenery, save where luxuriant vegeta-
tion has disappeared under bricks and mortar. In
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 229
one respect, however, distance lends enchantment,
for as we toiled up the hill from the railway
station and crossed a new iron bridge which spans
the river at a dizzy height, certain odours, obviously
not of Araby, were wafted across from the town.
But a long and varied experience of strange
races has taught me that some people prefer their
native home to have its characteristic smell, and,
in this case, the inhabitants of Tirnova must be
well satisfied. And anyway, this was a discom-
fort speedily forgotten in the interest afforded by
the tortuous old streets, or rather alleys, formed
by gabled, one-storied houses of great age. Some
were shops places for the sale of Sheffield and
Manchester goods, cheap agricultural implements
(as usual, made in Germany), and that vulgar
curse of the twentieth century, the picture post-
card. But everything else here is so purely
Eastern that one could scarcely realise that the
Cross has now effaced the Crescent in Bulgaria,
although a blue plaque bearing the words "Batten-
berg Ulitza " in the main thoroughfare clearly
showed that Ottoman rule is now at an end. In a
side street not sixty yards long, leading out of the
" Battenberg," I counted no less than eleven brass
plates indicating that the owner of the house was
a lawyer. Physicians (of a sort) seemed to be
almost as numerous, and I was unable to obtain
an explanation of this strange coincidence in a
town of under twenty thousand souls.
Notwithstanding this formidable array of legal
talent there seemed to be little doing here in the
230 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
way of trade, and Tirnova had an air of stagna-
tion, notwithstanding the prosperous look of its
inhabitants. Curs, pigs, and poultry strolled about
the grass-grown streets and into the open doorway
of our inn, the " H6tel Royal," which for dirt and
discomfort surpassed anything I had seen since
leaving the Adriatic. There was another hotel,
but a selection of either as a residence recalled the
darkie when questioned as to the choice of two
roads "Whichebber one you travels, Boss, I
guess you'll be d d sorry you did not take the
other ! " For one thing the " Royal" was infested
with rats, the presence of which, in unusual
numbers, successfully murdered sleep that night ;
but wakefulness on this occasion was opportune,
for towards dawn it disclosed a gentleman in
peasant garb tampering with our baggage. The
intruder explained that he had got into the room
by mistake, which, seeing that the door was locked
and he lived four miles away, did not say much for
his resource or intellect. But that miserable night
was almost atoned for by the view from the inn at
sunset : an outlook over leagues of verdure and
fertility which in the dusk became an ocean of
mist, stretching away to the snowy peaks of the
Balkans, now flushed with tints of mauve and
rose, now fading to a silvery grey, as night crept
over the world. You could have dropped a pebble
from our wooden balcony into the swift, shallow
waters of the Yantra, eight hundred feet below.
Presently a chime of bells tinkled across the
valley from a distant church, and at the sound
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 231
women digging in the gardens below gathered
up their implements and clambered painfully
homewards up the hillside. So steep were
these strips of cultivation, that, in one instance,
a man had roped himself to the trunk of a tree
in order to weed his tiny garden in safety. The
nearest approach to this place which I have ever
seen was at Yezdi Ghast in Persia, where the
inhabitants had to be hoisted up to their houses
in wicker baskets from the level of the desert
three hundred feet below.* But notwithstanding
the romantic surroundings of Tirnova truth com-
pels me to add that here (as at Yezdi Ghast)
sewage could plainly be seen coursing on every
side down the slopes of the mountain.
Although a railway is available very few
strangers find their way here, for Tirnova is far
out of the beaten track of travel, and has not
yet been pictorially advertised. By the way, I
often wonder who is responsible for the attractive
works of art, depicting health and pleasure resorts,
which adorn our London hoardings and railway
stations ! The dullest and dreariest seaside town
is now transformed into an oasis of winter warmth
and sunshine, and the writer was once gulled by
one of these pleasant fictions into visiting the
so-called " English Kiviera " in the month of
December, but never again ! At any rate, so
remote is Tirnova that I was much surprised
to find an American here (the only other inmate
* See " A Bide to India," by the same author. (Chapman &
Hall.)
232 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
of the "Royal") who had made himself as com-
fortable as our comfortless inn would permit, by
annexing the dining-room sofa as a sleeping-place,
and concocting a cocktail, which he called a
" Turn-over," out of local and primitive in-
gredients. The inventor of this subtle beverage
hailed from Chicago, and was now engaged
in a survey of the country between here and
Sofia, with a view to obtaining a concession
from the Government for breeding and farming
purposes. Steam power, he averred, would
shortly revolutionise the Balkans and draw the
attention of the world to this portion of Europe,
which, although teeming with agricultural wealth,
has hitherto lain as fallow, from a modern point
of view, as an African desert. " We have got
to hustle and get ahead of these Germans ! " said
my friend ; and it would be well if that sentiment
were more often expressed (and carried out) in
England 1
We remained two days here a stay which I
would gladly have prolonged, if only for one
reason this being that I have a passion for
" curios " of all kinds, from prayer- wheels to
Indian scalps, and Tirnova is one of the few
places remaining in Europe where you may still
pick up a genuine bargain. When travelling from
Pekin to Paris by land in '87 I bought a tiny cup
of cracked china from a wayside beggar for
twopence (or about 500 "cash") and am now
offered J620 for it, which has given me a taste
in this direction not that this will prob-
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 233
ably ever happen again, although I have no
doubt that if a connoisseur kept his eyes open
in Tirnova he would find something well worth
having in the shape of old silver, porcelain, or
brass. Some of the steel work inlaid with gold
was especially fine, and only lack of room prevented
my investing in an entire armoury which was
offered at an absurdly low price. Perhaps the best
thing I saw at Tirnova was a small prayer-carpet
of great age and marvellous texture, which had
mysteriously drifted here from Teheran. And
the sum asked for this little gem was exactly
one-twentieth part of what I paid for a similar
one in the Persian capital some years ago.
This ancient capital offers countless attractions
to the archaeologist and student of history, and
the " Church of the Forty Martyrs," which dates
from the . thirteenth century, is still in perfect
preservation, notwithstanding the troublous times
it has witnessed, and the fact that during the
Turkish occupation it was converted into a
mosque. Another building well worth seeing is
the Metropolitan Church (of Byzantine architec-
ture), a small but beautiful edifice with subterranean
dungeons where unfortunate captives were formerly
immured for years together, in semi-darkness.
The principal portal of this church is made of
copper, and in clear weather its silvery dome
can be seen shining like a diamond for miles away.
But it would need volumes accurately to set forth
the varied charms of Tirnova, and, in these rough
notes of travel, my object is less to describe the
234 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Balkan States as they were in the dark ages than
as they are at the present day. Unfortunately
this place cannot at present be seen in comfort,
not only because the accommodation is atrocious,
but here you are always either climbing a hill, or
descending it, and as this is a veritable " Castle
of the Winds " (it is always blowing a gale from
somewhere) the operation becomes a laborious and
sometimes a painful one.
Schools (for all classes) are as numerous here
as lawyers, and the same thing applies to the
entire Principality which, within the past thirty
years, has developed an almost perfect educational
system. In 1879 there was only one gymnasium
in Bulgaria worthy of the name, but to-day there
are nearly five thousand of all kinds, from village
schools to technical colleges. Besides these there
are two agricultural colleges ; one at Eustchuk (on
the Danube) and the other at Sadowa, near Philip-
popolis which is one more proof, if any were needed,
of Bulgarian enterprise. And it is well to note,
while surveying the progress of this country since
her emancipation, that there is not at present a
single foreigner in the service of the State.
Bulgaria, according to reliable statistics, can
show a school attendance of 9*1 per cent, of the
whole population, Servia has 4-2 per cent., Rumania
6'2 per cent., and for Greece the figure is 3*7 per
cent. In 1900, 92 per cent, of the male city
inhabitants between the ages of ten and twenty
could read and write, and 74 per cent, of the
female, while 68 per cent, of the male and 18 per
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 235
cent, of the female rural population were similarly
advanced.
There was little to do here after dark, and the
dining-room of the " Royal " appeared to be the
favourite lounge in the evening a long, cheerless
apartment, dimly lit with kerosene lamps where
people met to discuss the events of the day, and
listen to the wheezings of an asthmatic gramophone.
Supper was served & la mode de Vienne towards
nine o'clock; and two hours later every one had
retired and only the cry of the watchman was heard
in the dark and silent streets. And if the nights
are dull here, the days must pass with maddening
monotony, although there is plenty of sport to be
obtained in the neighbourhood without trouble or
expense. Bears, wild-boar, and red and roe deer
abound at an easy distance, and the chance of
bagging a chamois, now so rare in other parts of
Europe, would probably attract many sportsmen
from England if they only knew that a journey
of four days would probably ensure his capture.
Wolves are as common as cats in a London
square, and wildfowl of all kinds abound, eagles
in the mountains and snipe and wild duck below.
Woodcock is common in November, and quail used
to be until some enterprising people took to catch-
ing them for export. Fishing is very poor here,
owing to the scarcity of rivers of any size. But
all who come here for sport or otherwise must
be prepared to "rough it" in the true sense of
that often misused term. I have fared better
in Persian Jchans than at the " Hotel Koyal," and
236 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
yet the bill was of dimensions which would have
ensured a day of luxury at a Ritz hotel. Fortu-
nately the Bulgarian currency exactly resembles
the French, or there is no knowing to what
extent the unfortunate traveller might be fleeced.
But a lev is a franc, a stotinka a centime, all
over the country, and the most rapacious landlord
can make them no more !
On a bright April morning we left for the Shipka
Pass a drive of about thirty-five miles along
pleasant country roads as smooth as asphalt. I
only saw one motor-car throughout the Balkans
until we reached Bukarest, and yet a delightful
trip could be made from the latter city to the sea
by the way we had come, for the high-roads are
everywhere well adapted to rubber tyres. Petrol
would be the only difficulty, but this could be
sent on beforehand to convenient places en route.
On this occasion our conveyance was a " Phaeton."
with a vicious little team of ponies harnessed
three abreast, which tore along at such a break-
neck pace that the vehicle swayed and jerked
in all directions, like a miniature barouche, with
a monkey inside, drawn by dogs round a circus
ring ! Distance made no difference to this little
troika, which pulled up late in the evening at
the town of Gabrova on the northern side of the
Shipka just as fresh as when they started at early
dawn. I noticed that before starting, our driver
made the sign of the cross as he mounted the box,
and this custom seemed universal in these parts.
We took a midday meal at Drenova a quaint
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 237
old village rendered more picturesque by gay
flags and banners which waved in the streets on
the occasion of a public holiday. A long proces-
sion of school children passed the wineshop in
which we discussed a frugal lunch and a flask
of " Euxineograd," which is at present the only
palatable vintage in Bulgaria. Each child carried
a small tree, and I gathered that these were
to be planted at a spot outside the town. This
yearly custom was originated by the Minister
of Agriculture in order to promote the growth
of timber in this treeless portion of the country,
the shrubs having been imported for the occasion
from a considerable distance. This explanation
may or may not have been correct, but it
would seem rather superfluous to worry about a
scarcity of wood in a region which yields such
a harvest that the grain is often left to rot
from sheer lack of transport ! Besides, other
parts of this country have thousands of square
miles of forest of valuable timber, as yet un-
touched. I may, therefore, have misunderstood
my informant. Anyhow, Mackenzie obtained
some capital views of the quaint ceremony with
the bioscope, which seemed to create more fear
than amusement amongst the little ones.
If Tirnova was the most beautiful, Gabrova
was undoubtedly the quaintest city we saw
throughout our wanderings in the Balkans. It
reminded me of an illustration from the " Arabian
Nights." The day following our arrival was
bright and summer-like, which enhanced the
238 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
picturesque appearance of the dark, narrow
streets, and vine-trellised houses, so dilapidated
that they appeared to be rolling about in all
directions like ships in a storm. Many centuries
must .have elapsed since these were built, for
from some of the buildings you could almost
step from the first storey into the street with-
out risk of injury, while in many of the walls
great gaps appeared, disclosing glimpses of a
squalid interior. In places the roofs almost
met overhead, blotting out the sunshine and
deepening the gloom of the street below. Our
" Phaeton " had to crawl at a snail's pace to the
inn, for it was market-day, and the streets were
rendered almost impassable by carts, cattle, and
a surging crowd of Bulgars who occasionally
wrenched our ponies' bridles, with a sulky stare
at the driver, when the team brushed them
accidentally aside. All wore native dress, the
women in bright, garish colours, with sequins
and ribbons in their coarse, black hair, the men
in homespun and sandals with the JcalpaJc a
cylindrical cap of black or grey sheepskin as a
head-covering. Only a few loungers, sitting at
little tables outside the cafe in the market-place,
wore frock-coat and fez, both generally the worse
for wear. Their nationality was a mystery, also
their occupation, for they appeared to smoke,
play cards, and drink coffee without interval for
rest and refreshment throughout the livelong day,
and most of the night. On the other hand, the
market-place and bazaar were beehives of in-
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 239
dustry and animation. The Yantra is here
spanned by three quaint old stone bridges, and
rushes through Gabrova with a roar which is
heard all over the town. Along its banks are
several tanneries, the chief industry of this place
and its twelve thousand inhabitants, and there
are also several prosperous cloth factories, for
this is one of the principal wool markets in the
country. As at Tirnova the fa$ade of every home
was gaily painted, but partly concealed by the
vines which trailed over the houses and across
the streets, and which, in summer-time, must
convert the latter into avenues of grapes and
greenery. We put up at the Hotel Paskaleff,
which so far resembled a Persian caravanserai
that the dozen rooms it contained surrounded
a stable yard, and nothing was procurable in
the way of food. We therefore repaired to a
shabby little restaurant over the way with a
signboard bearing the legend " Au Lion de
Bulgarie " in faded gold letters. Smoking in the
doorway, in his shirt-sleeves, was the landlord
(once a lieutenant in the Russian Army), who
led us up a rickety ladder and into a comfortless
room with a dusty, rat-holed floor, which had
gradually subsided into a perilous angle. This
was the dining-room, said the man proudly, "In
which General Skobeleff had often partaken of
meals, and millions of roubles had changed hands,
at cards, between young dandies of the Imperial
Guard." " Pity you did not borrow a bit and
make a new floor," said Mackenzie. But, any-
240 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
how, our host's campaigning days had taught him
the art of cooking, and he served up as tender a
beefsteak as I had eaten since leaving London,
although the potatoes rather resembled the con-
sistency of the shells once so numerous in this
neighbourhood. It was bitterly cold (for Bul-
garians have yet to learn how to warm their
houses), and we therefore dined hastily, and
returned to the inn to prepare for departure at
dawn on the morrow. Upon leaving we were pre-
sented to Madame, a Bulgarian lady who, during
the war, had tended and eventually led the lieu-
tenant to the altar. The latter, although an exile,
was still a staunch Eussian patriot. Tears came
into his eyes whenever he spoke of Skobeleff. " If
only my General had been in Kuropatkin's place ! "
were his last words, "where would the Japanese
be now?"
G-abrova possesses proportionately as many
colleges and schools as Tirnova ; indeed the
Bulgarian language was first taught here in 1835,
and the first grammar was published in the same
language at about the same period. An English
traveller, Mr. James Samuelson, visited the
principal gymnasium here a few years ago, and
was somewhat surprised to find that in some
branches, especially chemistry, geography, and
physical science, the students of the Gabrova
gymnasium excelled the pupils in nine out of
ten schools of a similar grade in England.
My original intention was to cross the Shipka
Pass to the village of that name on the southern
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 241
side of the mountain, and to drive thence to
Philippopolis, from here to Varna by rail and
across the Black Sea to Kumania being a short
and easy journey. But I learnt at Gabrova that
a fairly good road which used to lead over the
mountains was now quite impracticable on wheels
and that a considerable portion of the way to
Shipka must be accomplished on horseback. This
method would have entailed endless difficulties on
account of our baggage, and hearing that a heavy
fall of snow had recently detained the mail
carriers for several days en route I resolved to
return the same way from the summit, and travel
to Bukarest by land. Even as it was we had
some difficulty, on account of snowdrifts, in
approaching the peak of Mount Saint Nicholas,
captured by the Russians after a stubborn de-
fence by their gallant foes. A Bulgarian mail
carrier we met near the spot told us that his
trip of under ten miles from Shipka had oc-
cupied nearly two days, and indeed it looked as
though another two or three miles would settle
both horse and rider. The man was armed
to the teeth, for this district is about the only
one left in Bulgaria where you may not travel
in absolute security, so far as brigands are con-
cerned. Only the preceding year one of these
messengers had been robbed and left for dead
by a gang of footpads.
The Shipka Pass is nearly 5,000 feet above
sea-level, and it took us several hours to reach the
summit, for the road was very rough and in places
16
242 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
partly broken away. From here there is a mag-
nificent view, and this is perhaps the only object
to be gained in ascending the fatal Pass where,
in 1877, almost as many perished from blinding
blizzards and the ferocious cold as from shot
and shell. We visited the granite obelisk
and little burial-ground which mark the last
resting-place of many a brave Russian and
Bulgarian, and faintly realised as we toiled wearily
up to the rocky peak what a similar ascent must
have meant under a hail of shell and shrapnel.
From here you may discern to the north the
Danube river a tiny thread of silver over a
hundred miles away and, southward, the pretty
red-roofed village of Shipka, nestling in gardens
and fruit orchards, in the centre of a vast forest
of rose-trees. The town of Kazanlik, hard by,
furnishes the most costly attar of roses in the
world, and I was told that 60 oz. of the essence
is worth 100.*
So powerful is the scent of the roses in summer-
time that it extends for many miles around,
and may be smelt at the very summit of the
mountain. Everything around the spot, the cosy
homesteads in the valley, the teams of oxen
ploughing in the fields, and tinkling cow-bells,
now wore an air of rustic peace and prosperity,
and yet it seemed only yesterday that the eyes of
* In 1884 the export of this product was valued at 80,000.
In England alone one wholesale perfumer pays a Kazanlik
firm about 3,000 a year for the essence. (Eeport of Consul-
General Jones on the trade of Eastern Eoumelia, 1886.)
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 243
Europe were turned with horror upon the tragedies
enacted here. One must visit the place to
thoroughly realise the almost insuperable obstacles
which, during that terrible winter, impeded the
progress of the Russians across the Balkans,
especially as regards artillery. For the mountain
paths were mere slopes of ice, several inches thick,
over which it was quite impossible to transport
heavy guns by means of horses, and men were
therefore utilised for this purpose. This operation
was so laborious and lengthy that sixty hours were
occupied in dragging the first field-piece to the
summit, a distance of under six versts, or about
four and a half miles ! And the descents which
had to be made while crossing from one ridge to
another were even harder than clambering upwards
over this slippery, insecure surface. For here the
guns had to be lowered by ropes twisted round
tree-trunks and boulders a primitive method
which caused many accidents and some loss of
life. How many perished during that desperate
struggle will never be known. But all the way
from Tirnova, graves marked by stone monuments,
rough wooden crosses, or green mounds (where
numbers of the dead were hurriedly thrown into
huge trenches), are always somewhere visible in
the landscape.
Our driver had crossed the Balkans with Skobe-
leff, whom, like most of the people about here, he
appeared to regard as a demi-god. " The Eussians
will come again," he confidently averred, " and
this time they will remain on the Bosphorus."
244 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
The man also pointed out a building in the far
distance, with a gilt dome and crosses. "Under
that monastery," he said mysteriously, " you
may walk for miles through vaults crammed with
arms and ammunition. Every year the most
modern weapons are brought there from Russia.
By and by the Tsar will return never fear he
will return and drive the Turks where they should
have been driven in 1878 into Asia." Strange
to say, this anecdote was repeated to me in all
seriousness in Gabrova, but it is probably a fable
which has gradually come to be accepted as a fact
by a credulous peasantry.
Evening saw us once more in Gabrova, and
while we sat and smoked after supper outside
a vine-trellised ca/6, reports reached us of a
tragedy which had just occurred in a neighbour-
ing house. A young girl, the daughter of a rich
merchant, had taken poison in consequence of an
unhappy love affair, and was not expected to live
through the night. This sad expectation was
realised, for poor " Maritza," whose photograph I
was enabled to obtain, died at dawn. The gay
Lothario responsible for her death was vainly
searched for by an infuriated crowd, which would
probably have made short work of him had he not
prudently disappeared.
We drove back to Tirnova next day in pouring
rain and a roaring gale which once nearly blew the
light " Phaeton " bodily over. Night came on and
we were still ten miles from our destination,
when, while galloping helter-skelter through a
PLEVNA AND THE SHIPKA PASS 245
village in the darkness there was a sudden crash
and our " Phaeton " was on its side at last. "Foot-
pads ! " was my first thought, with a lively recollec-
tion of our Servian adventure, but on this occasion
nothing more dangerous than a pig-trough left in
the middle of the road had brought us to grief.
Nothing was broken beyond easy repair, and we
drove into Tirnova, drenched and shivering with
cold, in the early hours of the morning. Nearly
an hour was then passed in a pitiless downpour
endeavouring to awaken the inmates of the "Boyal
Hotel." But by the time the door was unbarred
the day was dawning, and, as the train left at 5 a.m.,
we drove off to the railway station without alighting,
followed by the curses of a dishevelled and angry
landlord.
The same day we reached Eustchuk, on the
Danube, the waters of which to-day appeared
rather less dull and turbid than usual in the
sunshine. This is now a fine city of thirty
thousand inhabitants as modern in every way
as Sofia, although when Melton Prior, of the
Illustrated London News, and I were here in '77
the place was a collection of hovels. But
Rustchuk is now a convenient place of de-
parture for every point of the compass, and is
yearly increasing in commercial importance.
Here we bade farewell to Bulgaria, and with
some regret. For apart from its interest as a
new country with a great political and social
future, I found the Bulgarians infinitely more
attractive than any people with whom we had as
246 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
yet come in contact. This country will not stand
still not a year, nay, not even a month passes,
that important reforms and improvements do not
occur in her government, and the efficiency of
her formidable army. It was suggested to me
while travelling through Rumania that an alliance
may one day take place between the latter country
and Bulgaria, and in this case even a Great Power,
in the event of hostilities, would surely find her
hands full.
A glance at the statistics of Bulgaria will show
how far she surpasses neighbouring countries in
energy and enterprise. What with factories,
cultivated land, horse and cattle breeding, mines,
exploited forests, public works, and compulsory
education, the Budget is already in proportion
to the progress of the country. Greece and
Servia no doubt have budgets nearly equal to
that of Bulgaria, but their public debts are
far greater with smaller territories and popula-
tions, and consequently less wealth. The public
debt here amounts to 78 francs per head, that of
Russia is more than double this amount. In 1880
the exports and imports of Bulgaria amounted to
only 32 millions. In 1904 they had risen to 390
millions ! and are still yearly increasing. These
facts speak for themselves.
o face page 246.
MARITZA.
From a Photo.
: B:
CHAPTEB XVII
THE CITY OF PLEASURE
THERE are few countries in the less civilised
portions of this globe which do not possess their
"Paris," or some town so called on account of its
resemblance to the French capital which resem-
blance generally exists solely in the imagination of
the inhabitants. Thus Saigon is called by French
colonists the " Paris of the Far East," by reason,
I suppose, of its solitary boulevard of mangy trees
and two or three garish cafSs ; but why Batavia,
with its hideous streets and ill-smelling canals, or
Irkutsk (that gloomy dust-trap in Eastern Siberia)
should ever have been likened to the fairest city on
earth is beyond my comprehension. Bukarest is
also called the " Paris of the Balkans," but here,
at any rate, there is some reason for the simile, for
I do not know of a more attractive little city in
Europe or elsewhere. This may indeed be called,
without fear of exaggeration, a miniature Paris,
but amongst Rumanians Bukarest is more gene-
rally known as the " City of Pleasure," a name
equally suitable, and one which the native word
"Bucuresci" literally implies. For the first
247
248 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
things that strike a stranger here are the brightness
and gaiety of the streets and lavish display of
wealth, not only in the daily life of the people but
in public and private buildings, hotels, and shops.
And it soon dawns upon a visitor that he will have
to pay Monte Carlo prices for everything he buys,
be it a riviere of diamonds or a mutton chop.
Petersburg has been called the most luxurious
capital in Europe, but there a veil is drawn over
the dazzling splendours of the Court, and Midas
squanders his millions within four walls. The
Eussian capital gives the impression (outwardly,
at least) of a poverty-stricken city, whereas you
must explore the most remote quarters of Bukarest
(there are no slums) to realise that people of modest
means exist. When I was here in the eighties I
paid twenty-five francs for a pint of inferior cham-
pagne, and prices appear to have increased rather
than diminished since that period, notwithstanding
the increased facilities of communication. On this
occasion, the fare I paid for a fiacre to the hotel
from the railway station was about double that
which I should have given the driver of that most
costly vehicle in the world, the New York hansom.
But here the cabs are smarter and better turned-
out than two-thirds of the private carriages in
London or Paris, and, without numbers, would
never be taken for public conveyances at all. A
stranger is apt to be startled by the rapidity with
which his fiacre gallops away the moment he has
taken his seat for the driver is never told where
to go, but guided by touching his left or right
A STREET IN BUKAREST. Photo by Author.
face page 248.
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 249
arm as the case may be. Every cab you see is
drawn by magnificent horses, while the driver
wears a blue velvet coat embroidered with gold
lace, rather suggestive of a Lord Mayor's show, but
gay and pleasing to the eye. Most of these cab-
drivers are of Eussian nationality, and belong to a
sect proscribed in their own country the " Skoptsi,"
a number of whom I found exiled near Yakutsk in
Northern Siberia on my way from Paris to New
York.
The principal street here (or " Calea Yictoriei ")
is an avenue of palatial buildings, for fabulous sums
have been spent on the city in recent years, and
much of it wasted in useless display. The post
office, for instance, is unquestionably the finest in
the world, architecturally speaking, but its marble
halls generally seemed deserted, for they are ten
times too large for the business transacted. The
Palace, on the other hand, is a comparatively
modest building, so near the street that you may
see into the royal apartments, and participate
(from a distance) in any state or private function
which may be in progress ! For the Court here is
as informal as that of Sofia is the reverse. Queen
Elizabeth is chiefly responsible for this laxity, for
Her Majesty's unconventional views are only
equalled by the kindliness and tact which have
rendered " Carmen Sylva " the idol of her people.
King Carol the First does not share this popularity,
especially amongst the nobility, which resents
German methods and manners. Some of the
* See " Paris to New York by Land," by the same author.
250 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
" Boiards " would eagerly acclaim a Rumanian
ruler ; but the country, on the whole, is loyal, and
the Hohenzollern dynasty therefore seems likely
to flourish for an indefinite period, especially as
the heir-apparent (a nephew of the present ruler),
who married Princess Marie of Coburg, is liked by
all for his personal charm and sterling qualities.
Rumanians resent the inclusion of their country
with the so-called " Balkan States," to which they
consider themselves, and not without reason, some-
what superior. The contrast even with Sofia was
striking, and on the Sunday of our arrival the sunlit
and busy boulevards, crowded cafes, and military
music recalled a summer's day in Paris. There is
no trace here of Eastern rule in the past mosques
and minarets, dim bazaars, and veiled ladies
have vanished to give place to palatial hotels,
Parisian shops, and the latest creations of Worth
and Redfern. The Latin races may have their
faults, but few will deny that they are the plea-
santest people to live amongst !
The H6tel Splendide, one of a score of equally
luxurious establishments in this city of about
300,000 souls, is considered the best, and here
we took up our abode, but not for long, having
been warned that a prolonged residence would
tax a millionaire's resources. Two days were
quite sufficient to prove this fact, but those
forty-eight hours were certainly the pleasantest,
if not the most profitable, throughout the whole
journey. An Irish gentleman travelling in whisky
who, judging from his normal condition, must
A RUMANIAN LADY.
From a Photo.
page 250.
V
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 251
have been an excellent judge of that product,
was staying at our hotel. In his opinion the
chief charm of Bukarest lay in the fact that " you
need never go to bed," and although, in this
respect, I did not share my friend's enthusiasm,
the Eumanian capital has almost limitless
attractions for the pleasure-seeker. Dine at the
Restaurant Capsa (where the cuisine rivals that
at Paillard's) in dress-clothes and go on to the
opera, or partake of sausages and lager-beer in
tweeds at Frascati's, and drop into a music or
dancing hall, and you are pretty sure, either way,
to be amused. From dawn till dusk the cafds are
ablaze with electric light, also other establishments
which shall be nameless, for this is certainly the
most immoral city in the world, now that one in
the New World, which ran it very close in this
respect, has ceased to exist. And yet a lady can
walk alone at night in the streets without fear of
insult, for Rumanians are the most polite people
in the world, and a stranger here meets with
nothing but courtesy, even in the lower quarters
which we occasionally visited in order to hear the
" Tziganes " play and sing a very different per-
formance to that of the so-called "Hungarians"
in London restaurants. Only the genuine gipsy
can do justice to the weird, barbaric melodies of
his people certainly not the red-coated impostor
who frequently hails from Berlin or Hamburg!
It was only in the outskirts of the city that we
had any difficulty in making ourselves under-
stood, for everywhere French is spoken almost
252 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
as frequently as Rumanian. Russian is never
heard in this Latin island in a Slavonian sea,
and streets and shops are no longer designated
in cryptic letters, but words of plain meaning.
"Toiletta di Dama," "Facultalea di Medecina,"
and " Carta Postala," are some which caught my
eye, and which show the close affinity between
Rumanian and the French and Italian languages.
Other boulevards here, almost as fine as the
Calea Yictoriei, are the Carol I. and Calea
Elizabeth, where, during the season, the street
cars pass with difficulty through carriages, cabs,
and even automobiles. For motoring is now the
rage here, and one morning I noticed a crowd
surrounding a large "Panhard" which, judging
from the amount of baggage and provisions, was
being prepared for a long and arduous journey.
Presently a chauffeur and two passengers took
their places, and drove off: amidst the cheers of
the crowd. The owner of the car, a Rumanian
prince, intended, if possible, to reach Teheran in
Persia, via Constantinople and Asia Minor an
adventurous trip which (being acquainted with
those countries) I fear was never accomplished,
especially as it was the hasty result of a bet only
made late on the previous night at the Jockey
Club ! The stakes were <5,000 a mere nothing for
Bukarest, where there is higher play at the Jockey
than even the Yacht Club in Petersburg. But
Rumanians of all classes are passionately fond
of gambling of any kind, and the reader may
have noticed that whenever a prodigious sum has
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 253
been won (or lost) at Monte Carlo, the player is
generally a Kussian or a native of this country.
We came in for the fag end of the season (which
is in winter) here, but the " Chaussee," or Hyde
Park, was crowded on fine afternoons, and the
Crown Princess's victoria, with its showy liveries
and outriders, was still to be seen with its fair
occupant, generally gowned in white, with the
pretty Rumanian embroidery which has lately
found its way to Paris. " Capsa's " was the fashion-
able resort for afternoon tea, and here towards
five o'clock you would generally find as many
well-dressed men and women as at Eumpelmayer's
or Colombin's in Paris. Rumanian women are
generally blessed with more than their share of
good looks, and have also the unconscious charm
of manner which seems only natural to the fair
sex east of the Danube. Some one has said
that the woman of Bukarest combines the beauty
of the Hungarian, the grace of the Austrian, and
the wit of her French sister ; and he was not far
wrong. Moreover, her voice is generally low and
melodious, and one could enjoy tea and a cigarette
at "Capsa's" without being under the impression
that the place was a parrot-house. Nearly all spoke
the national language interspersed with French
words and expressions a kind of jargon which
was evidently confined to ultra-smart circles.
Unmarried girls here are brought up as strictly
as in France, but, on the other hand, marital
infidelity is very common. Divorces are there-
fore frequent, but do not, as in other countries,
254 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
ostracise a divorcee. I was presented to a young
and charming lady who had three divorced
husbands living, and was about to be married to
a fourth; and this is not an unusual occurrence.*
The frivolity (to use no worse term) of the
Rumanian woman is probably due to the fact
that those of the upper classes live in a perpetual
round of gaiety which leaves little time for serious
pursuits or studies of any kind. There was a book-
shop every ten yards along the Calea Victoriei,
but it generally chiefly contained trashy Rumanian
French and English novels. On the other hand,
there are some excellent libraries, almost ex-
clusively patronised by the middle classes. Ru-
mania has two fine universities, one in Bukarest,
and the other in Jassy, but, at present, most young
men (and women) who can afford it complete
their studies in Paris, Vienna, or Berlin, the first-
named city being chiefly frequented by law and
medical students. Some of them never return to
their own country, but remain in Paris, to become
celebrities in the world of science and letters.
Amongst these are Jean de Mitty, now a famous
writer on the Matin, the painter Simonidy, and
Pal, the originator of the "Artistic poster" in
France. Madame de Nuovina, the gifted soprano
of the Opera Comique, is also a Rumanian.
Notwithstanding their superficial, pleasure-
loving nature Rumanians are almost as morbid as
the French. While at " Capsa's " one afternoon I
saw a funeral pass that of a young girl the
* A divorced couple here can never re-marry.
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 255
daughter of a famous politician of the hour. In
a moment every table was deserted, and the
fashionable crowd, chattering and laughing the
moment before, were congregated at the doorway
silently watching the gloomy procession. The
coffin was, as usual, open, and I caught a glimpse
of pale, drawn features amidst a mass of white
flowers. As the cortege passed the men un-
covered, as in France, although this is not usual
in the Orthodox Church. Rumanians are as
strict and devout as Eussians in their religious
observances, but it would be better if they
sacrificed a little religion to the care and welfare
of their domestic animals. A branch of the
S.P.C.A. is sadly needed in Bukarest, although
I never saw a case of cruelty in the provinces.
There, on the contrary, horses and dogs appeared
to be treated with more kindness than children.
The Rumanian almost excels the Servian Army
in the splendour and variety of its uniforms, and
on a Sunday the streets presented a brilliant sight
with the black or scarlet hussars plastered with gold
lace and the chocolate and dark blue of the artillery
and line. These people are proud of their army,
and rightly so, seeing that it is the third most
efficient force in Europe. When, in 1877, Prince
Carol led his Rumanians across the Danube to win
undying fame before Plevna, the forces at his
disposal numbered under 35,000 men. To-day
his army consists of 65,000 men and nearly 400
guns (on a peace footing), the active army with
reserves 200,000, the territorial militia 150,000
256 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
and the Levee en Masse (men between thirty-six
and forty-six years of age) 200,000 a total force
of some half a million men ! And all this has
been accomplished since the proclamation of
independence in 1877 or in under thirty years.
The expense of keeping up a force of this kind in
a country with a population of about six millions
is of course enormous, but not a penny of the
expenditure is grudged by the nation. Stay-at-
home politicians never seem to consider what
effect a military combination between this kingdom
and her neighbour Bulgaria might have, at any
moment, upon the condition of affairs in the Near
East, although I frequently heard its possibility
discussed amongst military men in both capitals.
Moreover, the fortifications of the Rumanian
frontiers and capital are now as perfect as skill
and money have been able to render them, and
any attack on the Russian side has been specially
guarded against. It is therefore unlikely that
Rumania will ever again be made a cat's-paw by the
Tsar. Her sons do not forget that thousands of
their countrymen sleep side by side with vanquished
Turks outside the walls of Plevna, and that for
this their reward was the loss of the rich province
of Bessarabia (given them after the Crimean War),
and the acquisition in exchange of the worthless
steppes and marshes of the Dobrudja.*
But the prominent position of Rumania as a
* Eeport of H.I.H. the Grand Duke Nicholas : " Les resul-
tata brillants obtenus a Plevna furent dus, en grande partie
a la cooperation de la brave armee roumaine."
<
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 257
military power, is not the only blessing which has
been conferred upon his adopted country by the
King and his beloved consort. Before the days
of '66, when Prince Charles of Hohenzollern-
Sigmaringen left a crack Prussian regiment of
cavalry to assume the reins of Government at
Bukarest, the people here were almost as oppressed
and poverty-stricken as the serfs across the fron-
tier. Prince Carol found a land ruled by wealthy
and unscrupulous nobles, tenacious of their rights,
and indifferent to the sufferings of the poor, who
were not even permitted to cultivate miserable
strips of land save under the most restricted
conditions. The petty official was then almost
as great a curse here as the Tchinovnik in Eussia.
The first act of the Prince, therefore, was to re-
organise the then insignificant army, the second
to provide the peasants with small holdings a
drastic measure which rendered him very un-
popular amongst the aristocracy. But inch by
inch the wedge of reform was inserted, with
the result that the Kingdom of Eumania is now
practically a constitutional State. Disaffection
and oppression no longer exist, and even the
humblest peasant has a voice in the government
of his country. Agriculture is as yet in its
infancy, from a scientific point of view, but nearly
half of Eumania is now under cultivation, whereas
thirty years ago less than a quarter was farmed.
And although machinery and steam power are
as yet only employed to a minor extent, the
production of maize per head is only inferior to
17
258 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
that of the United States. Mr. Alfred Stead,
an English traveller who has made a special study
of the subject, writes :
" It is as a wheat-exporting nation that Rumania
ranks largest. A comparison with the exports of
the United States is instructive. To the 47*16
millions of double quintals of wheat of the United
States, Rumania exported (1900) 8-15 millions ;
to the 3-25 millions of rye, 1-67 millions ; to the
26*29 millions of maize, 7*12 millions ; a total
export of 16*94 millions as against the 76*70
millions of the United States. The quantity of
cereals exported has trebled in twenty-three years,
and the future contains enormous increases.
Even in 1898 nearly ten millions sterling worth
of corn was exported. The Government is not
behindhand in taking measures to encourage the
export, and erected in 1892, in Galatz and Braila,
the Danubian deep-sea ports, warehouses, grain-
elevators and granaries to the number of forty-
eight, valued at 720,000 and with a capacity of
750,000 tons. Since then further improvements
have been carried out and others are in con-
templation."
Although the industrial products of Rumania
are at present very limited, she is said to possess
extensive mineral resources, but save with regard
to coal the country has as yet been only super-
ficially surveyed in this direction. Gold and silver
have been found and even worked in a primitive
fashion, and at present more cannot be said on
this subject. There can be no doubt, however,
THE CITY OF PLEASURE 259
that the petroleum fields here are, or will be, the
richest in the world, for every day fresh deposits
are being discovered in the various districts. The
manager of some wells at Campina (not many
hours by rail from the capital) told me that his
daily output of oil from one spring was estimated
at about 1,200, and this is by no means one of
the richest oil fields. Petroleum here is superior
in quality to that obtained in the Caucasus, and
is naturally exported to Western Europe with more
ease and rapidity. At Kustendje, on the Black Sea,
large tanks have been erected by the Government,
and there are modern facilities for expeditiously
shipping the oil destined for the Mediterranean
and the Far East.*
You must travel leisurely through this new and
progressive kingdom to appreciate the changes
and improvements wrought by its ruler during
the past thirty years. We made only a flying
visit to Sinaia, a fashionable resort with luxurious
villas and beautiful gardens, clustering around the
palace where Carmen Sylva generally passes the
summer months, away from the dust and turmoil
of the city, amidst her books and flowers. No one
who can afford to leave the capital remains there
after the month of May, for the heat then becomes
oppressive, and epidemics often occur. From
Sinaia we went on to Jassy, through a fertile
country as green as an emerald, and past pleasant
* The Kumanian petroleum fields are not included in the
Standard Oil Trust.
260 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
country towns and picturesque villages, some of
the latter surrounded by vineyards, for they make
wines here as wholesome and palatable as those of
Bulgaria and Servia are the reverse, and a Bordeaux
firm lately acquired an extensive tract of land for
this purpose.
But Rumania becomes less attractive as you near
its northern border, for here the landscape resembles
that portion of the great sullen Empire which
looms across the river Pruth dirty drab huts,
bleak wind-swept plains, and half-starved, shiver-
ing cattle. Goodbye to the neat white home-
steads and fertile fields and gardens of Southern
Rumania ! Before me lies Russia, the land of
mystery, gloom, and death. At Jassy Mackenzie
leaves me to return to England, for, while at
Bukarest, a friendly hint from the Russian Em-
bassy warned me that, under present conditions,
the presence of a bioscope artist in a disturbed
city might produce unpleasant results, not only
to the operator but also to myself !
CHAPTBK XVIII
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA
ODESSA E08TOV-ON-THE-DON
You must travel with a man for an extended period,
and in strange lands, to thoroughly appreciate his
society especially when he has left you to finish
the trip alone. My friend Mackenzie was an
admirable travelling companion (I never wish for
a better), but I should probably have regretted
the departure that day of a criminal lunatic,
had he been of my own nationality, for, amidst
strange people and gloomy surroundings, there
is always a certain comfort to be derived from
hearing your own language. And you might
as well search for a nugget in a London paving-
stone as for an Englishman in the frontier town
of Jassy. The latter may be a charming resi-
dence in bright and sunny weather, but the woolly
skies and persistent drizzle which accompanied
my short stay rendered the place as gloomy
as an Arctic settlement. In other parts of Ku-
mania towns and villages are rendered doubly
attractive by the clean-looking, picturesque national
261
262 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
costume, the light-coloured serge or flannel with
neat blue and red embroidery, which is worn by
both sexes. Perhaps the sense of depression I
experienced here was partly owing to the fact
that at Jassy the peasants resembled peram-
bulating masses of rags little better than the
moujik in his filth and furs just over the
border. Indeed, outwardly, Jassy might well be
taken for a Bussian town, for although its modern
portion has fine buildings and asphalt streets,
the remainder of the city is chiefly composed of
wood and corrugated iron. Gipsies and Jews
appeared to swarm here, and in the poorer quarters
every third man I met in the streets had the
pendulous lip and drooping eyelids of the chosen
race. For there is plenty of money to be made here,
and a considerable trade in leather and cereals, to
say nothing of some large tobacco factories. The
population of Jassy, now figured at about eighty
thousand, is therefore yearly increasing.
All that day I splashed about disconsolately in
the rain, and at sunset sat down to a frugal meal
with the landlord of the inn a loquacious per-
sonage, who expressed surprise on hearing of my
destination. " Of course you go on business ? "
he said ; adding that under present conditions even
the proverbially insane Englishman would scarcely
visit Russia for pleasure. My host insisted on
calling for a bottle of " Cotnari," a Rumanian
vintage of which I partook sparingly, for during
its consumption we were joined by a Russian
gentleman suddenly and suspiciously summoned
A RUSSIAN GIPSY. From a Photo.
face page 2Ca.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 263
by the landlord on the plea of conviviality. The
stranger was a pale, hungry-looking personage, clad
in broadcloth and frayed linen, who carried an
ebony walking-stick, plastered from end to end
with the silver monograms of his friends (a
favourite custom amongst the Russian nobility),
which this unmistakable mouchard had copied
to suggest intimacy with the aristocracy. I
recognised the type in an instant (thanks to a
twelve years' experience of the secret police), and
remained on my guard. " What was I doing in
Jassy ? " " When was I going to Russia ? " " Did
I know Maxim Gorky ? " " Was I known to
General Trepoff ? " To these and numberless
other questions (most of them trivial and childish)
I had to reply and at the same time to keep my
temper, not only that night, but the next day.
For my friend was awaiting me in the hall at
9 a.m. and never left me until the train steamed
out of the railway station, where the cringing
respect shown him by the officials only confirmed
my suspicions. It is difficult to say with what
object this man was stationed at Jassy, or why,
when we reached the frontier, he again appeared
at my carriage window such an obviously foolish
proceeding that I could scarcely refrain from
laughing outright. The Tsar's watch-dog now
asked to see my passport (which he read upside
down), returned it to me, and finally disappeared,
having put himself to much inconvenience for no
apparent object. Millions of roubles are expended
by the Russian Government on these men. The
264 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
hotels in every large city throughout the Empire
swarm with them, and it is no exaggeration to
say that (even before the revolution) every
stranger who stayed at the Hotel de France in
Petersburg or " Slavianski Bazar " in Moscow
was watched, down to the English tourists landed
for a few hours from the pleasure yacht Argonaut.
Why this is done I cannot attempt to explain, but
I merely state it as an indisputable fact. In
England there is a popular belief that these secret
agents are endowed with abnormal sagacity and
cunning, whereas they are generally (and especially
in Southern Russia) most illiterate and ignorant
men. For instance, two years ago, an English
sailor landed at Taganrog and travelled leisurely
through the country, using an old temperance
certificate as a passport ! And the fraud was only
discovered at the British Consulate in Odessa,
where I heard of the incident. During the recent
revolutionary crisis there has naturally been more
cause for espionage, which is, however, generally
conducted in such an open and bungling fashion
as to defeat its own object.
Anyhow, I can safely assert that I had to con-
tend with more worry and vexation during the
thirty days' trip from Eumania to the Caucasus
than throughout my many journeys in Siberia.
Trouble began at Ungheni, where the railway
station bristled with police, and the minute
examination of our baggage detained the train
for five hours. The most trivial objects were eyed
by the lynx-eyed officials in a manner which, under
AT UNGHENI.
From a Photo.
ce page 264.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 265
pleasanter circumstances, would have been amus-
ing, for toilet requisites, ladies' glove-boxes, and
even a concertina were gravely removed for closer
inspection to an inner room, the instrument being
actually cut open to see if it contained Socialistic
literature ! For the same reason books, of any
kind or language, and music were ruthlessly
seized; but I luckily possessed a letter recently
received from the Governor of Petersburg, and
this fact and a knowledge of the Eussian language
saved rny journals. It was solely a police inspec-
tion, for no duty was exacted. A passport was
not sufficient, for every traveller was rigidly cross-
examined as to his antecedents and business in
the country. Finally, two gendarmes barred the
way for some time before I could leave the station
and kill time by visiting the adjoining village
the usual straggling street of hovels, rendered
more squalid by the newly whitewashed walls and
golden domes of a brand-new church. A dull,
grey afternoon harmonised with the depressing
aspect of the rickety mud-huts and their ragged
inmates. Scraggy pigs and curs wandered in and
out of the murky little shop where I bought some
cigarettes. The place looked the picture of gloom
and desolation, and I was glad to return to my
brightly-lit compartment and pass the remaining
hours of delay in slumber.
Odessa is certainly the pleasantest, if not the
most interesting, city in Russia, but the vile
weather which had pursued me ever since leaving
Bukarest culminated here in a drenching down-
266 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
pour, with the cheerful addition of a dense sea
fog. On the arrival of the train a line regiment
was drawn up outside the station, having been
hastily called out to a disturbance in a neighbouring
town ; and if I have ever seen misery personified
it was in that line of grey, sodden figures, devoid
of all trace of martial bearing, standing motionless
in the rain, with pallid faces and downcast eyes.
Near them a glittering group of officers, chatting
and smoking cigarettes, looked gay and uncon-
cerned ; but champagne and vodka had not cheered
the departure of their men, who looked less like
soldiers than a gang of convicts bound for the
city gaol !
While in Odessa I was subjected to an incessant
police espionage which fully equalled my experi-
ences on the frontier. I have put up, as a rule,
with this annoyance with equanimity (every
traveller in Russia must do so), but here it was
impossible to leave the hotel for an hour without
being shadowed by an agent of the police. This,
as I had a mission of some delicacy (if not peril)
to perform, rendered the attentions of my plain-
clothes friend the more objectionable. The brother
of a political exile whom I found immured at
Sredni-Kolymsk, in Arctic Siberia, resides in
Odessa, and my object was primarily to obtain his
views (as a prominent Socialist) on the political
situation in Russia for publication in the West-
minster Gazette ; and secondly, to fulfil a promise
I had made to the unhappy exile to seek out his
relative and deliver a certain message, whenever
A BRIDE OF "LITTLE RUSSIA.
From a Photo.
t page 266.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 267
the opportunity occurred. I need not describe, in
detail, the ruses and risks which had to be
resorted to and run in order to accomplish my
mission. Sufficient that it was eventually accom-
plished, chiefly by the aid of "palm oil," and that
I found the object of my search living in a
secluded suburb of the city. To my surprise he
ridiculed the precautions I had taken, and assured
me that although spies were more numerous than
ever, the police had lately displayed a tolerance
hitherto unknown in the annals of Russia. This
was verified in a fashionable cafe, which I visited
with my friend A , where politics were openly
discussed in a manner which a year ago would
have consigned the speakers for life to a fortress or
Siberia. Again, in former days every one upon
entering a post office was legally compelled to
remove his hat, as a mark of respect towards the
portraits of T.I.M. the Tsar and Tsarina, which
invariably adorn its walls. Now, to my surprise,
nearly all remained covered, and not a word was
said. Here the Jewish element predominates, but
I found in many other Russian cities the same
discontent and unrest (amongst all classes) that
existed in Odessa. And, perhaps oddly enough,
the most desperate revolutionaries I met were
generally either officers or Government officials.
The Terrorists were, however, in the minority,
and even A (a prominent Anarchist), deprecated
the use of bombs and bloodshed, although he
heartily approved of the "execution" of the late
Grand Duke Serge. For the latter was partly
268 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
responsible for the exile of my friend's brother to
Sredni-Kolymsk, that little hell of darkness, cold,
and famine in Arctic Siberia where I had found
him, almost bereft of reason, while travelling by
land from Paris to New York.
While I was in Odessa, the manager of the
Hotel Bristol repeatedly warned his guests to
avoid Government offices and public buildings,
and it was not oversafe to walk anywhere in the
streets, an official and two policemen having been
shot down on the principal boulevard within a
fortnight of my arrival, during the busiest hours
of the day. Indeed, it was extraordinary how
little excitement was caused by tragic events of
this kind probably because of their frequency. I
myself witnessed the attempted assassination of a
late chief of police, which occurrence indirectly
released me from a mauvais quart d'heure in a
police court, for at the time I had just been
requested by a constable to accompany him to
headquarters for carrying a " Kodak " without
special permission. The afternoon was bright and
sunny, and the " Deribasovka," a fashionable
thoroughfare, crowded with people. Suddenly the
report of a pistol, closely followed by another,
caused a number of people to rush to the spot
where an elderly man in the official uniform of
grey and scarlet had fallen to the ground. My ,
policeman, now heedless of cameras, also made off
like a flash of lightning to render assistance, and
I discreetly and rapidly followed his example in
the opposite direction. I heard later that the
PEASANTS OF " LITTLE RUSSIA."
From a Photo.
e page 268.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 269
wounded man eventually recovered, and the
would-be assassin escaped a sequel of such
frequent occurrence that there may have been
some truth in A 's assertion that many of the
police were actually in league with the extreme
revolutionary party.
In a time of peace Odessa is by no means a dull
place, for there is plenty of sport in the neigh-
bourhood, and the fairly numerous English Colony
passes a pleasurable existence, what with shooting,
yachting, and other outdoor amusements, social
entertainments, the opera, and excellent theatres
and music-halls. The Nikolaievsky Boulevard,
overlooking the harbour, is one of the finest in
Europe, with its magnificent buildings and shady
trees and gardens ; and here I used to sit and
smoke of a morning, looking down on the crowded
wharves and busy roadstead, the scene of the tragic
Potemkin episode. The Black Sea, by the way,
is as aptly described as the White, for in the
latter case ice, and in the other enormous depth,
render each title literally appropriate. The former,
a tideless lake, becomes very unhealthy in the
spring-time, for masses of weed then become de-
tached from the ocean bed to drift in and rot in
putrid heaps on the sea-shore. Bathing is there-
fore only possible when the spring gales have
washed away all this refuse. Furious storms,
which often occasion much loss of life, are not
confined to the winter-time, for I have experienced
bad weather at all seasons of the year, when cross-
ing the Black Sea.
270 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
I had intended to proceed from here to Baku,
in the Caucasus, by sea, but found communication
with Batoum had been suspended owing to the
disturbed state of the latter port. Maxim Gorky
had only recently arrived at Yalta in the Crimea ;
but I was advised to abandon a projected visit
to the great patriot-author, which might have
resulted in my expulsion across the frontier.
So I travelled by land to my destination vid
Elizavetgrad and Rostov-on-the-Don, through a
pleasant and fertile country, where smiling
villages and a clean and contented peasantry
present a cheerful contrast to the poverty-stricken
provinces and paupers of the North. Elizavet-
grad is the chief town of this prosperous district,
where agriculture is carried on after the most
approved and modern methods. A large factory
here for modern steam machinery is owned by an
Englishman who, fifteen years ago, was clerk
in a mercantile house in Odessa and is now a
millionaire. Cloudless weather had now succeeded
the rain and mists of the past few days, and blue
skies and brilliant sunshine rendered this the
pleasantest portion of my journey through Russia.
The railways here are slow and deliberate in their
movements, but the cheapness of travel is
extraordinary in view of the luxury of the first-
class cars, and splendour of the restaurants
even at the smaller stations, where you may
generally partake of an excellent meal amidst
spotless linen, flowers and gilt candelabra, with
sable-clad, white-tied waiters in attendance.
A DON COSSACK.
From a Photc.
: page 270.
- "x/WV\:
ro face page 271.
A COSSACK'S WIFE,
From a Photo.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 271
Lunch or dinner do not consist here, as they
often do in England, of stale sandwiches and
fly-blown buns, for there are generally half a
dozen entries to select from, and an hour is always
allowed for the midday and evening meals, which
averts a deal of ill-temper and indigestion. At
Znamenka, a pretty little " Miastietchka " (which
signifies something between a town and a village),
my dinner consisted of fresh caviar, soup, sterlet
and a partridge, beautifully cooked and served,
and at a cost of only two roubles, or about four
shillings, including coffee and a bottle of Crimean
claret. This is the centre of one of the richest
agricultural districts in the South, and the plat-
form was crowded with peasants returning to
their homes from a market held that day. Furs
and sheepskins had been discarded in the warm
spring weather, and the men wore the red
shirt and velvet caftan, the women the gaily
embroidered bodice and skirts of Bessarabia, where
the national costume is perhaps the prettiest
in Russia. Some were dancing to the merry
strains of a concertina at the end of a platform,
others had gathered around a little girl of about
fourteen years old, who wore a silver medal with
white and red ribbon which she had received for
tending the sick and wounded during the siege
of Port Arthur. And every one, from station
officials to ragged beggars in the roadway (and
with the exception of myself), appeared to be
nibbling pea-nuts, until closer scrutiny disclosed
that they were the seeds of the sunflower, one of
272 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
the most profitable harvests in Russia. Thousands
of acres of these are cultivated, and the seeds
are sold at an enormous profit in the shops
and streets. I found them as tasteless as bits
of wood, and quite as indigestible but so inor-
dinate is the craving for them, especially amongst
the peasantry, that most of the latter had tiny
niches in their front teeth, worn away by the
continual friction with the hard and gritty
substance. But whether the fact was due to
the sunshine or sunflowers, everybody seemed
happy and contented, save a few Jews and
" Tchinovniks " who are the curse of these
agricultural districts the former with their usury
and dramshops, the latter by reason of the extor-
tion which the much - coveted Government
" Rosette " enables them to practise with im-
punity. Nothing can be done here (I might say
throughout Russia) without first greasing the
palms of these gentry, but they are hypocritical
rogues, and bribes must be offered with a certain
amount of tact, and as if the donor never doubted
the honour and integrity of the recipient. One
of the favourite methods (employed by Mr. S ,
an Englishman I met in the train) is to pur-
posely lose at cards or other games of chance. A
lengthened residence in Odessa had made S
proficient in the art of " squaring " the local
" Tchinovnik," although he was somewhat stag-
gered when the latter, while transacting some
business, offered to toss him, heads or tails, for
a costly marble mantelpiece, imported at great
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 273
expense from Italy and, as usual, was allowed
to win it !
My countryman was returning to Rostov, where
he has (or had) a large business in the sale of
agricultural implements, for the farmers of
Southern Russia only employ the most modern
machinery and implements. Yet notwithstanding
these improved methods of tilling the land, and
the improved social conditions arising therefrom,
S told me that the peasantry of the southern
districts are almost as ignorant and superstitious
at the present time as they were in the reign
of the Empress Catherine. On the other hand,
the moujik of Bessarabia and Little Russia is
a big, warm-hearted baby, occasionally addicted
to vodka, but hospitable to a fault. You have
only to enter his dwelling (infinitely cleaner and
more comfortable than that of his northern
brother) to be made free of the house and all it
contains in the shape of eatables, even though
the latter be restricted to salt fish, black bread,
and a barrel or two of " Agourtsi."* And yet in
moments of anger this same good-natured boor
can display an unbridled ferocity which, in the
event of a general uprising, would probably amaze
and horrify the civilised world.
The superstition which prevails here amongst
the peasantry is unequalled even in the remotest
parts of Siberia. I recollect once entering a
traktir on the outskirts of Rostov and remark-
ing to the proprietor (while idly watching the
* Cucumbers steeped in brine.
18
274 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
gyrations of a flock of pigeons), that no man
could partake daily of one of these birds for three
consecutive weeks a physical impossibility which
has been proved in England by numerous attempts
and inevitable failures. " Of course not," was the
reply. "They are sacred birds."* And S
told me of other local superstitions, which he had
observed during his journeys on business in the
interior and which savour of the dark ages. Per-
haps the most curious is the universal belief in the
existence of a "Damovoi," a gnome-like vision
which is supposed to inhabit every dwelling and
render it agreeable or otherwise for the inmates.
The " Damovoi's " costume is black or yellow, but
he has invariably a long, grey beard, flaxen hair,
and red, gleaming eyes. The remains of supper
are always left on the table for the "Damovoi's"
refreshment during the night, and his comfort and
well-being enter into all the domestic arrange-
ments, for if ignored in any way he takes a
speedy revenge by bringing some disaster upon the
household. Again, over the door of every building,
house or stable, there is nearly always a cross
rudely scrawled in red or white paint for no
witch or evil spirit can possibly enter under that
sacred emblem. In parts of Bessarabia also it
is considered very unlucky to meet a " pope " or
priest upon the road ; but a sure way to avert
misfortune is to wait until the holy man has
* Throughout Russia the pigeon is regarded as sacred on
account of its similarity to the symbol of the Third Person of
the Trinity.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 275
passed and then to walk for some distance to the
right or left, crossways, behind him. But I could
fill a chapter with the quaint and numerous
customs practised in this part of Russia and of
which Mr. S possessed an endless store. In
Siberia I have rarely come across such instances,
chiefly because I had not the time (or inclination)
to study the subject. But I remember once
calling upon a lady at Tomsk during a storm, and
at the first clap of thunder she suddenly became
silent and preoccupied. Attributing this to alarm,
I essayed to reassure her. " Oh ! I am not
frightened," said my hostess, after a long pause.
" I was merely trying to recall the features of six
bald-headed acquaintances. It averts the light-
ning ! " Women are generally more given to
superstition than the opposite sex, but S
informed me that, in Southern Russia, the reverse
is the case.
Long and tedious hours at length bring us to
Bkaterinoslav, the Birmingham of Southern Russia,
late in the day, and we pass through a ring of fire
formed by its blazing ironworks. These are
owned chiefly by Germans and Belgians, and the
fact that land here has almost trebled in value
within the past decade is largely due to the influx
of foreign capital.
Shortly after leaving Ekaterinoslav we cross the
River Dnieper, upon the brown waters of which,
notwithstanding the sultry weather, ice-blocks are
still floating, and early next morning drink tea at
Taganrog, a dreary-looking town overlooking the
276 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
Sea of Azov. Taganrog looks a miserable place
and does not belie its appearance, for in summer
the town is swept by dust-storms of Saharan force
and density, while in winter intense cold and fogs
occasion much sickness. Up till now the scanty
supply of water here has been the cause of frequent
epidemics, for only rich people can afford to pur-
chase the precious fluid, at about a shilling for a
small cask, while the poor have to depend solely on
condensed sea- water and the turgid river Don for a
supply. Leaving this the train skirts for a while
the flat and dismal sea-shore, with here and there
a fisherman's shanty lost in a wilderness of yellow
sand dunes and wiry grass. Inland the sullen grey
steppes roll away like huge Atlantic breakers to
the horizon, across a landscape as desolate as the
ocean itself, save for the occasional gleam of a
stagnant pool rotting in a fringe of rushes or
a momentary glimpse of some wild bird, hovering,
like a restless spirit, over the wilderness. But
towards midday there appears far ahead a blur of
brown, with golden domes gleaming faintly above
it, between the cheerless horizon and cold grey
sky. " Eostov-on-the-Don ! " says S cheerfully,
with a sigh of relief and a few minutes later we
have reached our destination.
CHAPTEE XIX
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA (continued)
IN THE CAUCASUS
A GLARY, dusty town of unpaved straggling streets,
ankle-deep in mire after rain, a nucleus of fine
stone buildings, surrounded by others in a state
of transition between corrugated iron and bricks
and mortar, such is Eostov-on-the-Don. The
place had, up till the time of my visit, remained
the most loyal and orderly of Eussian cities,
although even here the schools were closed, and
a public gathering of students had recently been
dispersed by Cossacks with an occasional volley
and a free use of the nagaiJca.
There was, therefore, a certain amount of
incident, although I was not sorry when my
enforced stay of two days here came to an end,
for this is a very uninteresting city save from
a commercial point of view. Eostov is at present
cut off from the sea by the sand-banks of the
river Don, but when the latter has been dredged
sufficiently to admit large vessels (and when the
country has quieted down !) this will probably
277
278 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
become one of the most important trading centres
in Eussia. But this laborious and expensive
scheme, which has long been discussed, has not
yet been commenced. Outwardly the chief im-
ports and exports of this port appeared to be
agricultural implements and cigarettes. Nearly
two-thirds of the shops along the " Bolshaya
Sadovaya," or main street, contained the former
(chiefly, I was glad to note, of English manu-
facture, for in this particular branch America
appeared to come in a bad second and Germany
for once in a way nowhere).* The cigarettes of
Messrs. Asmoloff, who have large works here, find
their way to all parts of Asia; indeed, I found
them even at Yakutsk, in Arctic Siberia, which
Kussians still call " the end of the world." The
Eussian papirosh is to my mind far superior
to the Turkish or Egyptian, and it has always
been a source of wonder to me why they are
not more popular in England, for their flavour,
compared to other brands, is delicious and their
price infinitesimal. The reason may be that
thousands of boxes purporting to contain Eussian
cigarettes are annually sent to this country from
Hamburg, and are very rightly condemned by the
luckless buyers as unsmokeable rubbish. As a
matter of fact, however, I believe there is only
one place in London where a real Eussian
cigarette may be procured, a small shop (where
* There is a duty on all imported agricultural machinery
except reaping machines, which, for some reason, cannot be
made in Russia,
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 279
fresh caviar is also sold) in Rupert Street, Soho,
and of which the owner is special purveyor to
the Russian Embassy.
There is a palatial hotel, newly built and
towering, in Rostov, but it is a whited sepulchre.
S directed me to the " Grand," an old but
respectable hostelry, but which reminded me
somewhat of one of our old coaching inns, and
where the cuisine was excellent. The sanitary
arrangements were of course deplorable, and
the accommodation almost as bad. The wash-
stand in my room was the usual contrivance
used in Russia, by which you press a treadle with
your foot and a tiny jet of water dribbles from
a tap above the basin. Sometimes it spurts
violently out (according to the quantity of fluid
in the reservoir) and wets your clothes. In any
case, by this method it takes quite a quarter
of an hour to wash the hands and face and
if you want hot water it is generally produced
in a tumbler ! In some places you can have
a bath, but this is no light undertaking, for in
an hotel the order entails as many preparations
as a dangerous surgical operation. When pressed
for time, it is generally preferable to go to a
public establishment and wash a la Russe, but
these places are not overclean in the provinces,
although in the capital and Moscow they are
as clean and luxurious as any London
" Hamrnam."
The good news that a train would leave for
Baku on the evening of the second day came
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as a pleasant surprise, for a week's detention here
had seemed likely. I quickly made my way to
the police office to obtain my passport, which
was handed me with the polite intimation that
although there was no objection to my travelling
as far as Vladikavkas, I must on no account pro-
ceed as far as Baku. Argument was useless (it
always is with the Eussian police), and I therefore
withdrew, with fervent expressions of gratitude,
but firmly resolved to reach the proscribed city, if
this were any way possible. Before leaving Rostov
I despatched many letters to the Westminster
G-azette and friends in England, but for obvious
reasons only a few of these ever reached their
destination.
The railway station that evening swarmed with
soldiers, for our train carried two line battalions
from the province of Orel (which Russians pro-
nounce " Arreeol"), and the troubled state of the
Caucasus was evident from the large number of
troops of all denominations which continued to
pour into that country during my brief stay.
During the two days' run to Vladikavkas I had as
travelling companion a colonel of artillery. "I
was shot in Manchuria, and now I am asked to
shoot my own countrymen ! ' said he; "how
long is all this going to last ? " I must have had
that question put to me fully fifty times a day
between Odessa and the Austrian frontier, and
by all sorts and conditions of men !
The journey of two days from Rostov to Vladi-
kavkas was dull and tedious, especially as in the
H -
16
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 281
hurry of departure I had forgotten to bring away
any light literature. The speed was slower than
usual, so much so that at times a fast walker could
have kept up with the train, although the engine
was one capable of running fifty miles an hour.
But all Russians have a rooted antipathy to fast
railway travel, and apparently even object to saving
time if one may judge by an incident which
occurred some years ago when I was travelling
across the Caucasus from Batoum to Baku. We
had reached a tunnel, at the entrance of which the
train had pulled up for at least twenty minutes.
" There is something wrong ? " I remarked to a
fellow-passenger. " Oh, no," he replied, " we are
only making up the time! This tunnel was
recently made to avoid a long detour round a
range of hills, and as it now cuts off several miles,
a short delay is necessary so as to fit in with the
scheduled time." " But surely we should save
time by going on," I urged, not unnaturally.
" Perhaps so," said my friend, placidly lighting a
cigarette. " But then, you see, they would have
to alter all the time-tables ! "
Nevertheless, I still maintain that if a man is
not in a hurry, he can travel more comfortably by
rail in Russia than in any other country in the
world. Even the cars on this remote Caucasian
line were beautifully fitted up by day, and at night
were converted into luxurious sleeping apartments.
The dim light furnished by two wax candles was
the only drawback; but a further supply could
always be obtained from a polite and attentive
282 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
guard. On the other hand, an English lady would
perhaps find this line rather inconvenient, for some
of the first-class " sleepers " were indiscriminately
occupied by both sexes, although all other Russian
railways provide special accommodation for the
convenience of dames seules.
Of course we stopped everywhere, the first morn-
ing at Tikhonitzka, where tea was served, but the
Colonel preferred to make an early breakfast off
vodka, some black bread, and spring onions!
I was travelling with an invading army, for the
restaurant swarmed with soldiers in summer
uniform (white linen caps and tunics), and Cossacks
of the district bristling with knives and silver cart-
ridge belts, and wearing long, dark skirts and huge
astrakan bonnets which almost concealed their
faces. The stations were so isolated as to seem
like islands set in this ocean of steppes, and were
all of one pattern iron-roofed, brick buildings
with an engine shed at one end, and at the other
a dusty strip of garden with a well, like an
Egyptian "Shadoof," in the centre. The town
was generally miles away, and as the train started
the Cossacks mounted their small shaggy ponies,
which had hitherto wandered freely round the
place like human beings, and galloped home-
wards like the wind, yelling like fiends as they
scoured across the grassy plains. Armavir was
one of the few towns closely adjoining the railway,
and the heat during the day having been tropical,
it was pleasant to alight here in the cool of the
evening. This is a typical Cossack town, not-
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 283
withstanding its rural and peaceful appearance,
and it is surrounded by rich grazing grounds, well
stocked with herds of sleek, well-fed cattle. Beyond
this we entered the mountainous Kuban district,
called after the river of that name, and from here
onwards we are in Switzerland, or might well be,
judging from the scenery on either side of the
line.
Vladikavkas is a town of four thousand in-
habitants, which stands in a green and fertile
valley, backed by the snowy peak of Mount
Kasbek and the wild, precipitous ranges of the
Caucasus. People Chamonix with hundreds of
rough-looking louts in grey rags and rusty boots
(the Eussian line), and many more lithe, sinister-
looking blackguards in dark skirts and astrakan
bonnets (the Cossacks), and the place is before
you. And here, perhaps more than elsewhere,
the latter are the terror of the place, for they
acknowledge but one master their "Ataman,"
the Tsar and display a contempt for the gold-
laced, dram-drinking Eussian officer, which is,
perhaps, occasionally deserved. It is a mistake,
however, to gauge the Cossack's valour by his
warlike exterior, for, as a general rule, a more
abject poltroon does not exist in action, although
in a crowd of unarmed men and defenceless
women his services with revolver and whip are
invaluable. " Duck-stealers " they were derisively
called during the riot at Warsaw; but this is an
injustice, for while I was in Vladikavkas a gang
of them looted a jeweller's shop and got clean away
284 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
with 5,000 roubles. Few people in England are
aware that the term " Cossack" is a very compre-
hensive one, given to numberless races living
between the Baltic Sea and Pacific Ocean. Thus
the Cossacks of Eastern Siberia are mostly emi-
grants, inoffensive tillers of the soil, who only
desire a quiet and peaceable existence, but who
during warfare are provided with a horse and a rifle
by the Government and made to fight. They
thus become " Cossacks " in name only, for they
differ as much from the wild, lawless hordes of the
Don and Black Sea as a ploughboy in the English
shires from a Greek brigand. The Siberian Cos-
sacks, unlike others, are not exempt from taxation,
and do not carry a nagaika the terrible instru-
ment which is wielded with such deadly purpose in
European cities, but which would be useless in their
sparsely populated country. Also the Siberian
Cossack is generally a better man in every respect
than the swaggering bullies of the Caucasus. I
speak from experience, for had it not been for
the indomitable pluck and energy of one Stepan
Bastorguyeff , who accompanied us from Yakutsk to
America by land, my entire expedition would have
perished. Yet Stepan was a (Siberian) Cossack.
The train I had come by remained a whole
day here before proceeding to Baku, but nothing
I could say or do would persuade the authorities
to permit me to resume the journey. "In a
few days, perhaps," was the only consolation
I could get from the chief of police, so I sadly
took leave of the little colonel and drove to the
ice page 284.
THE DABIEL GORGE.
CAUCASUS.
Photo by Ragazinsky, Vladikavkaz.
'CJiCiG JS'.A''l *??
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 285
inn, and here I found a stranded German journalist
in the same plight as myself.
Sinister news, he said, had arrived that day
from Baku a bank had been blown up with a
dynamite bomb and several people killed ; but
there had been nothing to report during the five
days my colleague had been detained here. At
first he was a cheery, sociable fellow, a Teutonic
Mark Tapley, who was evidently accustomed to
cast his bread upon the waters with the firm
belief that it would eventually be restored in
the shape of buttered toast. But as time wore
on, my friend's hopes sank with it, and after
repeated applications to the police to be allowed
to proceed to the scene of action, the discomfited
Herr one morning incontinently lowered his
colours, took his ticket for Eostov, and left me
alone to face the situation. " You will never
see Baku," were his last words ; but this prophecy
was fortunately not fulfilled. For I eventually
reached the place in question, not, however,
before a sojourn of four days had thoroughly
sickened me of Vladikavkas.
There is a good post-road from here across the
mountains to Tiflis, and here I thought was
perhaps an opportunity to evade the authorities
and travel to the Caspian via the latter town,
whence a drive of only two days would have brought
me to Baku. But my scheme collapsed like a
house of cards on hearing that- post-horses could
only be procured from a Government station, and
that podarojnas (or the necessary permits to
286 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
use horses) were not being issued at present. So
there was nothing to do but wait, and exercise
patience, of which virtue I am not entirely devoid,
thanks to previous experiences of Siberian travel.
In summer Vladikavkas is said to be so
beautiful that tourists flock there from all parts
of the world, but the day after my arrival the
fine weather broke up, and the rain came down
in sheets, and without an interval, until I left
the place three days later. There was no going
out, for my wardrobe was very limited, and
the long, weary days were passed at the inn,
sadly surveying the deserted sloppy streets and
dense curtain of mist which obscured even the
trees and houses over the way. As for the
mountains, I never saw them until I passed here
on the way back from Baku.
Vladikavkas is famous for its beautiful silver
work, and one morning I braved the downpour
and entered a jeweller's shop not far from the
hotel in order to purchase a cigarette case as a
souvenir. The Armenian who owned the place
spoke English fluently, and told me that, not-
withstanding the garrison, the Cossacks practically
governed Vladikavkas and the villages around
it. He produced a revolver, and said that none
of his compatriots here dared to move with-
out one. Only the previous evening some Cos-
sacks had broken into his shop and threatened
to kill him unless they were paid 1,000 roubles,
which sum he was compelled to hand over the
counter. The preceding week an Armenian and
287
his wife were attacked just outside the town,
and were both mercilessly flogged because no
money was found upon them, the woman being
subjected to the vilest outrages. There was no
redress, for the police, when applied to for
assistance, simply refused to interfere. This man
probably spoke the truth, for I afterwards heard
at Baku from a credible source that the Armenian
massacre there (which occurred a few weeks before
my visit) was the work of Kuban Cossacks, dis-
guised as Persians, who had. been sent there for
the purpose by the Eussian Government. And
that very night I was awakened by loud cries
for help outside the hotel, and saw an inanimate
form borne away by three policemen surrounded
by Cossacks who appeared to be directing the
proceedings. The next morning the jeweller
informed me that the victim was an Armenian
who had been robbed and nearly murdered.
When I mentioned the incident to the landlord,
he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. " What
can you do against Cossacks ? " was his remark,
and the fact did not seem to strike him, or any
one else here, that a garrison of five thousand disci-
plined men could, within twenty-four hours, have
cleared the town of these cowardly blackguards.
A journey of two days, generally accomplished,
under normal conditions, in half the time, landed
me in Baku, the first four hours being passed
in an open truck under a tarpaulin. Whether this
was a joke on the part of the authorities or whether
it was done to impress me with a sense of their
288 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
power and importance I shall never know. At any
rate I reached Baku, which after all was my primary
object, and having done so, speedily recognised
the fact that I might just as well have stayed
away. Not that there was not enough excitement
and bloodshed to gladden the heart of an
American newspaper man, for during my stay
of four days here a bomb exploded within a
few yards of my hotel, a bank manager was
stabbed, and five Armenians were shot in the
native quarter. The petroleum city was prac-
tically in a state of siege, and five separate con-
flagrations in various parts of the town were visible
from the roof of my hotel. All this was interesting
enough had I been able to impart the news
to those eagerly awaiting it in England. This,
however, was impossible, for the wires were
inaccessible to all but Government officials, and
private letters were despatched " at the risk
of the sender," which generally means, in Kussia,
that after being read they will be consigned
to the waste-paper basket. I then applied to the
police for permission to take photographs, and
this favour, also, was politely but firmly declined.
So I strolled about the town aimlessly for three
days, regretting the time and trouble I had
expended in reaching it. For Baku, apart from
its tragic associations, is utterly devoid of interest.
Besides, I had been here before, and knew the
place only too well, with its incessant gales and
clouds of dust, the former so violent that the very
name of the place is derived from the Persian
A CAUCASIAN BRIDE.
(Note the length of gloves.)
Ftom a Photo.
> face page 289.
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 289
words, "Bak," the wind, and " Kubeda," beaten.
Only sixty years ago a tumble-down Persian
settlement occupied the spot, which now consists
of handsome stone buildings, well-paved streets,
warehouses and shops. The place has, like
Odessa, a mixed population, in which Russians
and Tartars predominate, but French, Germans,
Italians, and a few English are also met with,
most of the Europeans being employed in the
petroleum trade, profitable enough to those at
a distance, but distinctly unpleasant to residents
here. The wells are fully three miles away, but
even tablecloths and napkins are saturated with
the odour of the oil and the very food has a
faint, sickly flavour of naphtha. " Bathe in the
Caspian," said an English engineer I met here,
"and the smell will cling to you for a week ! " And
I bathed in the hotel with much the same result !
Anyway, I clearly realised at the end of four
days that there was nothing to be done here, for
a newspaper correspondent without an available
wire or post office is as effete and helpless as a
man without limbs. At first I thought of returning
via Tiflis, but the line to that place was closed,
apparently for an indefinite period, as several
miles of rail had been torn up. So I finally
resolved to retrace my steps vid Rostov and Kieff
to Warsaw, arriving at the latter city on the eve
of its first serious riot and in time to witness
the ruthless slaughter of over one hundred inno-
cent victims men, women, and children by the
soldiers of the Tsar.
19
CHAPTER XX
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA (continued)
A RIOT IN WAE8AW
CRASH ! Bang ! Smash ! I awaken with a start
to my surroundings in a luxurious bedroom, all
rosy chintz, and white and gold furniture, and
wonder whether a violent earthquake has shaken
the world, for the whole massive building seems
to tremble, for a few seconds, under the shock
of the ^concussion. But almost simultaneously
a German waiter enters, cool and imperturbable,
with the morning roll and caf6 au lait.
11 Another bomb, Monsieur," he remarks, as
unconcernedly as though he were criticising the
weather. "It sounds as if this one were in the
Jewish quarter that makes the third this week,
and there will probably be some more to-day ! "
I had arrived in Warsaw the previous evening
to find the city in a state of ferment and the
wildest rumours abroad. Even at Kieff the mail-
cart had been brought to the train by a heavy
escort of cavalry, and I had found the railway
station here surrounded by troops. One- third
290
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 291
of our train had been composed of prison cars
occupied by a regiment of the line under orders
for this place. Everything looked as if a row
was imminent, and before many hours were
over.
" They say there are two thousand bombs in
the city ! " was my greeting from the gold-laced
porter at the Hotel Bristol, the gilded and usually
crowded halls of which I found deserted save by
a few Press correspondents and business men
and even these wore an air of apprehensive unrest.
" Anything may happen to-morrow a public holi-
day," said the editor of a leading Warsaw journal ;
" but there will be no bloodshed if it can possibly
be avoided." But he added that the most trifling
incident in the crowd a chance word or blow
might lead to scenes of slaughter too terrible to
contemplate. For on the Sunday preceding the
massacres there were all the makings of a row
on both sides the soldiers were sulky at having
to patrol the hot, dusty streets on a day of rest ;
the people were goaded into an irritable frame of
mind by vexatious police restrictions and the
wholesale arrests which had recently occurred
here and at Lodz. Moreover, the sudden arrival
of three regiments of Don Cossacks was not cal-
culated to mend matters, for these gentlemen are
less handy with smooth words than the nagaika.
It was reported that the Governor- General had
issued strict orders that shot and steel were only
to be used as a means of defence and as an
absolutely last resource. This may, or may not,
292 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
have been correct. Anyway, twelve rounds of
ball cartridge were issued to each man, and it
is calculated that on the fatal day there were
no fewer than sixty thousand troops under arms
in and around the city. It is true, an ukase
of the Tsar proclaiming religious tolerance had
arrived that morning, but most people regarded
it as a mere artifice to quiet the people and tide
over this critical time, which it probably was.
The bomb explosion, which occurred at six
o'clock on that bright May morning, was
quickly followed by the clatter of cavalry and
tramp of troops on the wood pavement, and this
continued unceasingly throughout the whole of
that day and the following night. I rose, and
dressed quickly, during which operation two
policemen entered my room, and without a word
of excuse or explanation closed the shutters. In
the entrance hall I was agreeably surprised to
find an old friend Stanhope, of the New York
Herald and we set out together, while there
was yet time, for the telegraph office, a report
having just come in that the Town Hall would
surely be wrecked by dynamite at midday. It
was now only 8 a.m.
The military display was in itself worth the
journey from London to witness, and the blue
sky and dazzling sunshine, church bells, regimental
music, and spectacular appearance of thousands
of glittering uniforms, ever on the move, was
anything but suggestive of the ghastly tragedies
which were so soon to follow. Indeed, the only
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 293
sombre figures in that brilliant assemblage were
Jews of the hideous Polish type, with rusty black
skirts and corkscrew ringlets, who wandered aim-
lessly through the crowd with a look of nervous
expectation on their pale, crafty faces. Up till
10 a.m. street cars and cabs were running ; after
that hour the streets resembled a desert, although
either pavement of the Krakovskaya, or principal
thoroughfare, was densely crowded with people
whose anxious looks contrasted oddly with their
gay holiday attire. About eleven o'clock some
workmen overturned a droshJci, the driver of which
had been bribed to convey a fare to the railway
station. Both men were rather severely handled,
but nothing of further importance occurred.
Every courtyard in the principal streets was now
occupied by the soldiery. At noon congregations
left the churches to swell the multitudes on the
Krakovskaya. Warsaw was now like a beleaguered
city. Not a meal was to be had for love or money
save at a certain French restaurant, where
Stanhope and I were taken by the American
Consul to clandestinely partake of breakfast under
the anxious eye of the trembling proprietor, whose
house would have been promptly attacked had the
fact transpired. Then I returned to the Moskov-
skaya, where bodies of troops were still moving
ever on the march chiefly dense masses of men in
the hideous grey coats of the Russian line, relieved
by occasional glimpses of colour as a squadron of
lancers or the Grodno hussars, in their smart
green tunics and magenta overalls, came clattering
294 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
by. And all this while the crowd looked on in
silent and sulky apathy, although the Don Cossacks,
armed with whips and mounted on their shaggy
ponies, occasionally called forth uncomplimentary
remarks. Near the Hotel Bristol a street boy's
facetiousness went too far, and like lightning a
swarthy ruffian reined up, and I saw the lad jump
in the air with a shrill scream of pain as the
cruel nagaika curled round his body with a crack
like a pistol-shot. Had this occurred in the poorer
quarters of the city the man would have been torn
to pieces.
The heat was terrific, and early in the afternoon
I returned to the hotel for a few minutes' rest
in the cool marble lounge of the " Bristol." Some
cavalry officers had come in from the sweltering,
dusty streets, for the same purpose, and one of
them was showing an empty bomb, taken by the
police on the previous night, to his comrades.
These infernal machines were facetiously termed
Mandarines in Warsaw, but their shape in no-
wise resembled an orange. The one I handled
was about six inches long and four in diameter,
with a thin paper partition in the centre dividing
two compartments one of which, when charged,
contained muriatic acid, and the other nitro-
glycerine. In the latter a leaden ball was placed, so
that when the missile was thrown with violence and
struck the ground at either end, the ball broke
through the paper, the chemicals met, and an
explosion ensued. The cost of each was about 15
roubles or <! 10s. and ten thousand were said to
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 295
have been distributed for use throughout Warsaw,
but subsequent events proved this report to be
grossly exaggerated.
The time was now drawing near for the monster
demonstration which, consisting of thirty thousand
men, was announced to start from the poorer
quarters at 4 p.m., parade several parts of the
city, and finally march past the Governor's palace
and down the Krakovskaya. But the hours went
by and not a soul appeared. My only means of
obtaining information was through my friend
the Eussian editor, who sat in his office throughout
the day watching events in Warsaw and meta-
phorically feeling the revolutionary pulse of Lodz
by telephone. About 3 p.m. he passed me, white
and breathless, in the street, crying out that
important news had come at last. A fight had
occurred in the Jerusalemski Street, near the
Vienna Railway Station fifty already reported
killed and wounded, women and men. It took me
quite half an hour to reach the place in question
through a struggling, panic-stricken mob, but here
I found a compact wall of infantry blocking up
the thoroughfare as far as the eye could see.
What happened here will never be known ; but
it is safe to assume that in the Jerusalemski
affair at least sixty people were killed on the spot.
At any rate, it was officially announced that over
a score of wounded succumbed in the hospitals
next day. This riot is said to have been started
by a shot fired into the troops from a window,
but it is just as likely that this body of workmen
296 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
were carrying red flags (which had been strictly
forbidden) and that this provoked a military
attack.
From this time indiscriminate murder was let
loose, and news of fresh conflicts and disasters
kept coming in every hour. At six o'clock about
twenty students and workmen (and two or three
women) were shot down in the Sosnovaulitza.
From Praga (a suburb just across the Vistula) we
learnt, at seven o'clock, that men, women, and
children had been shot down en masse by the
Lithuanian Regiment. Here over thirty-six
people are said to have been killed, most of them
poor, harmless beings who had idly strolled out
to witness, and not join in, the manifestation.
These were the two principal encounters of the
day, but there is no doubt that many others
occurred in the various suburbs, and that the
official report of the casualties issued by the
authorities were far below the actual figures.
Warsaw is a large city, and posted, as most of
us were, on the Krakovskaya, it was impossible to
know what was going on in the suburbs. But it
is a significant fact that, although the Krakovskaya
was specially selected by the various Socialist
committees for their most important parade, not
a single workman appeared all day near the street
in question ! Couple this with the fact that sixty
thousand troops (to say nothing of police) were
engaged in maintaining order all over Warsaw
and its outskirts, and I fancy the Govern-
ment reports as to the number of killed and
AN HOUR BEFORE THE RIOT.
WARSAW.
From a Photo.
GRAVES OF VICTIMS KILLED IN THE WARSAW RIOT. From a
ace page 296,
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 297
wounded that day in Warsaw may safely be dis-
credited.
The Praga business over, there was a lull, at any
rate in the Krakovskaya, which was now cleared
of civilians and solely occupied by ambulance
carts, squadrons of cavalry, and Cossacks. Occa-
sionally the latter would gallop wildly off, with
unearthly yells and a cracking of whips, and we
knew that more bloodshed would shortly be in
progress. But all that day the most level-headed
people were in a state of doubt and nervous
excitement, and it was difficult to substantiate
the wild reports which kept pouring in from all
parts of the city.
From eight o'clock until ten in the evening
there was little doing, and I strolled down the
street to the Governor's palace, which I found
surrounded by Cossacks seated around their
camp fires. But approaching too near the build-
ing, I was quickly covered with a rifle and
ordered to clear out, which I did, fully expecting
to be followed by half an ounce of lead, for many
people were shot that night on the flimsiest pretext.
We were wondering at the " Bristol " what had
become of all the threatened bombs, when one
of the latter burst in a street close by, killing
three Cossacks and a policeman. And this, so
far as I know, was the final tragedy of the day,
and occurred at about half-past ten in the
evening.
Towards midnight the streets were quiet and
deserted but for the eternal challenge of sentries
298 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
and tramp of armed men. While smoking a cigar
in the moonlit street outside the hotel, a rumble of
wheels was heard on the wood pavement, and a
rough country cart appeared, drawn by an old
white horse and escorted by soldiers with fixed
bayonets. " Some of the dead from Praga," said
a man beside me, and curiosity impelled me to
follow the weird cortege into the courtyard of a
low, yellow building the police office across the
street, where it was halted by the corporal in
charge. A rouble to the latter enabled me to
examine the vehicle more closely also its mys-
terious contents : a shapeless, bulging burthen,
secured by ropes stretched over a coarse tarpaulin.
There were four bodies three men and a woman
huddled together in wet and dirty straw : one a
smooth-faced student in grey uniform, the others
two respectably dressed men perhaps artisans.
Presently the flickering lantern revealed the
woman a girl of about sixteen, slim and fair-
haired. " She was pretty," says the corporal, as
the frail little body is carried past us in its white
serge dress with mauve ribbons now discoloured
at the throat and wrists. Shot through the
heart ! Ye gods ! What can such a child as this
have had to do with politics? The corporal guessed
my thoughts. " Poor little thing," he muttered,
not unkindly ; "I saw it done, but it was an acci-
dent ! They got her in the back while she was
running away. Heaven rest her soul ! "
The mortuary was one hurriedly improvised
for the occasion underground and lit by an
THE RED FLAG IN RUSSIA 299
electric lamp suspended from the rafters, and here
the dead lay side by side in semi-darkness and an
unspeakably foul atmosphere, notwithstanding the
carbolic acid which had been freely sprinkled
about the floor. Men and women lay almost
over one another in the confined space, dressed
in the clothes in which they had met their end a
few hours before, but both sexes were stripped to
the waist, their upper garments being rolled across
the hips. Some were shockingly disfigured, having
been clubbed to death with the butt ends of rifles,
but many of the women who had been shot in the
back while trying to reach a place of safety had no
visible wounds. The victims appeared to be chiefly
poor people, and only a few were of the upper
class one of them a woman, who had evidently
put on her smartest clothes and jewelry for the
festive occasion destined to end so tragically.
The work of identification was to take place early
the next morning, but by this time I had seen
horrors enough, and had no desire to attend that
harrowing ordeal. I have had to witness other
ghastly scenes in the darkest recesses of the Tsar's
great Empire, but the recollection of that dark
cellar, with its rows of upturned staring faces, will
haunt me to my dying day.
There is little more to tell, for two days after
the events above recorded I was on my way
to the Austrian frontier. During the journey,
while passing the town of Lodz, a " parting shot "
was fired at the train, the bullet passing through
an adjoining compartment, within an inch of its
300 THROUGH SAVAGE EUROPE
solitary occupant. But Buda Pest was eventually
reached in safety, and here, once more within the
commonplace but comfortable realms of civilisa-
tion, my wanderings " Through Savage Europe "
are at an end.
THE END.
TJNW1N BBOTHER8, LIMITED, THE GEESHAM PEESS, WOKING AND LONDON.
Siberia:
A Record of Travel, Climbing, and Exploration.
BY SAMUEL TURNER, F.R.G.S.
WITH A PREFACE BY BARON HEYKING.
With more than 100 Illustrations, and with 2 Maps.
Demv Svo, cloth, 21/- net.
THE materials for this book were gathered during a journey in
Siberia in 1903. Helped by over 100 merchants (Siberian,
Russian, Danish and English) the writer was able to collect much
information, and observe the present social and industrial condition
of the country. The trade and country life of the mixed races of
Siberia is described, and valuable information is given about their
chief industry (dairy produce), which goes far to dissipate the
common idea that Siberia is snow-bound, and to show that it is now
one of the leading agricultural countries in the world.
The author describes his unaccompanied climbs in the mountains
which he discovered in the Kutunski Belki range in the Altai, about
800 miles off the Great Siberian Railway line from a point about
2,500 miles beyond Moscow. He made a winter journey of 1,600
miles on sledge, drosky, and horseback, 250 miles of this journey
being through country which has never been penetrated by any
other European even in summer. He also describes 40 miles of
what was probably the most difficult winter exploration that has
ever been undertaken, proving that even the rigour of a Siberian
winter cannot keep a true mountaineer from scaling unknown peaks.
The volume is elaborately illustrated from photographs by the
author.
' ' To the trader and to the explorer, and to many who are neither, but who
love to read books of travel and to venture in imagination into wild places of the
earth, this book is heartily to be commended. It is lively, entertaining, in-
structive. It throws fresh light on the Empire of the Czars. Above all, it is a
record of British pluck." Scotsman.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
John Chinaman at Home
BY THE REV. E. J. HARDY,
Author of " How to be Happy though Married " ; lately Chaplain
to H.M. Forces in Hong Kong.
With 36 Illustrations. Demy Svo, cloth, 10/6 net.
CONTENTS.
Hong Kong ; Tientsin and Peking ; Canton ; On the
West River ; Swatow, Amoy, Foochow ; Up the Yangtze ;
Village Life ; Topsy-turvy ; Some Chinese Characteristics ;
Chinese Food ; Medicine and Surgery ; Chinese Clothes ;
Houses and Gardens ; Chinese Servants ; Betrothal and
Marriage ; Death and Burial ; Mourning ; Education in
China; Boys in China; Girls and Women; Chinese Manners ;
Government in China ; Punishments ; Chinese Soldiers ; The
Religions of China ; Outside and Inside a Temple ; New
Year's Day ; Monks and Priests ; Spirits ; Feng shiu and
other Superstitions ; Missionaries ; as the Chinese See Us.
The reader will not be bored with politics or the " future
of China," for the book only treats of the common every-day
things of the Chinese which seem so peculiar to us. These
are described and, when possible, explained. Anecdotes are
freely used to illustrate.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNVVIN.
In Search of 1 Dorado:
A Wanderer's Experiences.
BY ALEXANDER MACDONALD, F.R.G.S.
With 32 Illustrations. Large crown Svo, 5/- net.
READERS with a taste for adventure will find this book a
storehouse of good things, for in the course of various
mineralogical expeditions the author has roughed it in many remote
quarters of the globe, and a large share of strange and thrilling
experiences has fallen to his lot. At the same time he possesses
a literary skill with which few travellers are gifted.
The episodes in his career which the book relates fall under
three heads. In Part I., " The Frozen North," he gives some vivid
sketches of rough and tumble life in the Klondyke region ; Part II.,
"Under the Southern Cross," describes his adventures while pro-
specting for gold in Western Australia ; Part III., " Promiscuous
Wanderings," tells of his experiences in the Queensland Back
Blocks, in the Opal Fields of New South Wales, in British New
Guinea, in the Gum Land of Wangeri, New Zealand, and with the
Pearlers of Western Australia.
" It was with a secret joy that we sat up till the small hours of
the morning to finish Mr. Alexander Macdonald's new book, ' In
Search of El Dorado : A Wanderer's Experiences.' The author's
wanderings have led him all over the world, digging for gold, silver,
opals, and gum. The wonderful characters are vividly drawn, and
his two companions, Mac and Stewart, are men one would like to
shake hands with. . . . We can conscientiously say that we have
had as much pleasure from this book as from the half dozen best
novels of the year." Bystander.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
Demy 9vo, cloth, 10/6 net.
The Age of the Earth, and
other Geological Studies
BY W. J. SOLLAS, LL.D., D.Sc., F.R.S.
Professor of Geology in the University of Oxford.
Illustrated.
THIS volume, while written by one of the foremost of
English geologists, will be found interesting and attractive
by the reader who has no special knowledge of the science.
The essay which gives the book its title sets forth the bearing of
the doctrine of evolution on geological speculation, and par-
ticularly on the vexed question of our planet's antiquity. The
subjects of the other studies include the following : The Figure
of the Earth, and the Origin of the Ocean ; Geologies and
Deluges ; the Volcanoes of the Lipari Isles ; the History and
Structure of a Coral Reef ; the Origin and Formation of Flints;
the Evolution of Freshwater Animals ; and the Influence of
Oxford on Geology.
" They range over a great variety of subjects, including many which are
of sufficiently wide interest to bring the geologist into sympathetic touch with
the general reader. What educated man can fail to be interested in such
subjects, for instance, as the age of the earth, the building of coral islands,
the cause of volcanic action, or the Deluge ? Of all these matters the
Professor discourses pleasantly and well, writing with command of much
scientific learning, yet always readably, sometimes with brilliancy of diction,
and occasionally with a touch of humour." A thcnceum.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.
31579
CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
University of California, San Diego
DATE DUE
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